#bruce with tears in his eyes: my babies
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ghost-bxrd · 10 months ago
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"You're a kid whos mom was obsessed with a cult, and when you were just 12, she sacrificed you. You end in hell and expected to be tortured for eternity, but turns out the demon wanted a child of his own"
by WRITING PROMPTs
Maybe Bruce?
Aweee now, just imagine!
These cultists? Totally an accident that they for the ritual right. Jason doesn’t die so much as he just seem to kind of vanish into smoke and—
wtf.
Ok.
There’s- there’s a whole child.
Right at Bruce feet. All of a sudden.
A human child.
In hell.
And look, they couldn’t have chosen a worse demon to send a sacrifice to because Bruce? He’s a protector of children.
Because there’s something that so many story and demonology books get wrong.
Hell is for the bad people to be punished for all eternity.
And Bruce? And all the other demons populating hell? Well, they exist solely for one reason:
To punish sinners for the crimes they committed in life.
It’s a jail. Bruce and his fellow demons are the jailers. They don’t guard the doors of hell because they don’t want anybody to get in, they’re guarding them so nobody gets out.
But children, children have no business being in this place of torture and agony. Not ever. There’s a whole ass system in place to keep the good souls from accidentally wandering where they shouldn’t be.
So Bruce sees this tiny, starved child crying and screaming and— fuck. This is a Dick situation, isn’t it? He needs to go to earth. Again. And drag some people down to damnation all early and piss off death again. But you know what? Tough shit. They want a demon? They’re gonna get one.
(Jason is soon introduced to another strange human after he mysteriously pops back up on earth. His name is Richard “Dick” Grayson, and his teeth are too sharp and his pupils look almost reptilian in the right light, but he takes Jason to a big ass house with a real strange butler and lots of food.
Jason thinks he’s seen the weird Brucie guy who introduces himself as Dick’s dad somewhere before… but Jason is cool with not looking a gift horse in the mouth. After all, what are the chances he’ll fall into another cult’s hands so soon after the last?)
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peerlesshamster · 6 months ago
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Okay hear me out.
Red Hood, Gotham's favorite crime lord, being called son by Brucie Wayne who is (for the first time by mistake) incredibly high and walking around Gotham like he doesn't know he's a high risk kidnappee.
The street might seem empty but Red Hood knows there's multiples eyes watching from the shadows, windows and any single space that can fit a person, he knows his Gotham well. And he knows it'd be impossible to silence so many witnesses of Gotham's Prince calling him his baby and whining "my jaylad please come home".
Of course next day social media is exploding with pictures of Red Hood carrying a happy looking Bruce Wayne on his shoulder to his bike, even a sequence of pictures before that showing how he went from looking pathetic and on the verge of tears to look like all his wishes were fulfilled next to a resigned looking criminal. #RedHoodIsJasonTodd? tag is trending on twitter #WayneIsBatmansEx alongside.
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dyslexicandakeyboard · 7 months ago
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Bruce would have interesting ways to discipline his kids.
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Bruce: Listen to me, Damian! You can not steal my car and drive across country to visit Jon.
Damian: Then why do I know how to drive! And my mommy says I can! You don't own me!
Bruce: Young man, when you are under my roof you will follow my-
Damian: No I don't.
Bruce: If that's how it's gonna be. *Draws a circle around Damian* Stay there for five minutes.
Damian: D-d-d-daddy?
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Dick: *swinging from the chandelier that has been pass down in Bruce's family for generations* I'm gonna swing from the chan-
Bruce: Get down here this instant!
Dick: I'm not doing anything.
Bruce: Richard Grayson
Dick: You're not my dad!
Bruce: *brings out a bag of m&ms*
Dick: What are you doing? Those are mine?
Bruce: *opens it slowly*
Dick: Bruce?
Bruce:*eats one*
Dick: STOP, I'm coming down. Don't eat them!
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Jason: You can't make me. I'm not going to the party.
Bruce: *head vein throbbing* This is important. You can't skip this event.
Jason: *shrugs* You'll have to carry me.
Bruce: *takes a deep breath and walks away*
Jason: ahah, baby.
Bruce: *comes back with a bottle of castor oil and a spoon*
Jason: You sick sick man. Fine I'll go.
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Bruce: Tim you disappoint me.
Tim: I didn't think it would blow up the Batcave. Or make mustard gas. Or create a sinkhole.
Bruce: *sighs* I have no choice. You going on a nature retreat.
Tim: Bruce!
Bruce: Over two weekends. With the Boy Scouts.
Tim: *tears glisten in his eyes* Bruce...
Bruce: As a junior member.
Tim:
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Bonus
Alfred: Right! That's it, Master Bruce. *Pours a spoon of castor oil8
Bruce:
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dancewithdeath11 · 21 days ago
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Keep It Down
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: Trying to not wake anyone up while staying over for the holidays…
Warnings: Intense feels, trying to stay quiet, hand over mouth, Smut 18+, literally just pp in vv moment, petnames (Ma (ofc, this is Jaybird we’re talkin’ about), baby), crying but…in the hot way?, obsessed with this concept ngl. Yes, I got lazy at the end, don’t judge.. :(
Word count: 1k
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It was all quiet pants and silent tears. 
The holidays had rolled around and the two of you were staying at Wayne Manor for the week. A classic Gotham storm raged outside, snow gently falling as lightning flashed through the closed curtains of Jason’s room. Thunder shook the house, momentarily deafening what was happening. 
You and Jason were always recklessly in love. So, no wonder you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves for more than a day. The only problem was volume. And shit, could Jason make you lose your voice moaning and crying out his name. On the other hand, it would be sucky to be caught by one of his brothers, let alone Alfred or Bruce… 
“Gotta stay quiet, baby.. Can you do that for me?” Was what he murmured in your ear before you got started. 
He was slow, loving with his slow but deep thrusts. His dick hitting that spot within you that made your back arch and nails drag down his back, leaving angry red streaks in their wake. Fuck, he knew how to make your head spin. 
Tears streaked down your cheeks, shallow breaths leaving your parted lips. Jason ate it up, kissing and nipping along your neck. Tasting your skin and groaning into your neck to keep his own noises to a minimum. Calloused hands gripping your thighs to haul them up around his waist to get a better angle. The whine you let out was quickly muffled by his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss. “Shhh.. I know, ma, I know..” He mumbled against your mouth. 
As he had your lips captured, his hands moved up. Pulling you up into an arch by your waist before wrapping his arms around. Shoving his arms between you and the bed. Chest to chest, arms hugging your middle like he was scared you’d slip away. When he finally pulled away to breathe, his forehead dropped to your shoulder. Hot breath fanning across your skin making a shiver run up your spine. 
“Oh shit…” You breathed, hand coming up to drag through his dark hair. Gripping with shaky fingers, lightly tugging, making Jason practically growl into your skin. Brows pinched in pleasure as tears fell back into your hairline. Every roll of his hips takes your breath away and makes you tremble. His fingers dug into your back as he squeezed you tighter. 
Fire.. that's what you felt. Crawling beneath your skin, licking at your core making your stomach flip. Pushing you closer and closer to your high with every thrust, sharp breath, and moan. Trying to keep quiet. Desperately. But it was so difficult with how overwhelming it was. The thrill of accidentally being too loud. Passionate tenderness that made your head spin and tears prick your eyes. In a vulnerable state of intense pleasure and connection. All while your loving boyfriend whispered sweet nothings into your skin. “That’s it, ma..I’ve got you.. Just let go, I’ve got you..” 
Flushed and blissed out, your head pressed back to the pillows. Whimpering an, “Oh my god..” into the darkness of the room. Maybe a little too loud than you should’ve… 
Jason was quick to remedy your loss of volume control. His hand coming up to cover your mouth, his other arm still securely holding you to him. While he loved how wrecked you sounded, he didn’t want to get caught..You breathed harshly through your nose as you let out a ragged moan that got muffled by his palm. “Baby, baby.. Gotta keep it down..” He murmured, voice laced with desire.
Despite his words, he picked up the pace a little, rocking against you with more intensity. Hitting harder, somehow it felt deeper too. Eyes squeezed shut as you tried to focus on your pleasure and keep your moans down. 
Pressing closer, practically suffocating you with his weight. Draping himself over you like a protective blanket made up of over two hundred pounds of muscle. His hand left your mouth to grip the pillow next to your head. His head dropping once more, groaning right into your ear. “C’mon, ma..” You were so close…
You choked and pressed your face to his neck. Letting out a strangle moan you muffle against his skin. Finally reaching that peak. It wasn’t fast and strong like it usually would be. The kind that would have you moaning shamelessly and crying out his name. No.. This twisted your spine and burned through your veins. Making you choke on your own air and hold your breath. Crashing over your body like waves on an ocean shore. Tensing as you gripped him where you could. Pawing desperately at his skin for purchase as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. 
Then you let out a sob of raw pleasure, still muffled against his skin. Shaking as you rode out your high. Thighs trembling around his waist as your body pulsed with the aftershocks. He slowed down for a moment, cooing softly in your ear and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 
When you finally calmed down enough, he took your chin in hand, “Yeah..?” He mumbled to you. Seeking permission, seeing if he could be selfish now. Chase his pleasure. All you could do was tighten your legs around his waist again and nod weakly. Arms pulling him closer once more. “Yeah..” He quickly sought out your lips, locking you in a deep and needy kiss as he picked up the pace again. 
Panting and pressing as deep as he could. His groans went straight into your mouth as he chased his release. He wasn’t far behind. His hips stuttered before he let out a strangled moan, “Baby..” he grumbled against your lips. Giving a few short thrusts as he finished. Jason finally broke the kiss with a heavy sigh. A string of saliva connected you still before he licked his lips. “Fuck, you did so good for me..” He praised softly as he caressed your cheek. Thumbs wiping away the tears. 
“Fuck yeah, I did..” You gave a tired smirk. He paused before he gave a slow smirk of his own. 
“As if, you were loud as hell.”
“Shut up…”
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brucedefender4eva · 3 days ago
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There was a tumblr post on here and I can’t remember who it was from but I do remember the general gist.
It was basically about Bruce going “Brucie mode” and therefore making it impossible for people to be or stay mad at him. Just flash those beautiful blue eyes at someone and they’re ready to do his bidding
——
Jason: You were monitoring me?! What the fuck Bruce! I told you-
Bruce: *zoning out and not in the mood to be yelled at*
Jason: -and… what are you doing? Hey! Don’t you dare go-
Bruce: *already in Brucie mode* Why are you yelling at me Jay? Did I do something wrong?
Jason: *unable to stay angry* Fuck you Dad
——
Dick: Stop that
Bruce: *not a single thought behind his eyes, smiling brightly* Stop what chum?
Dick: Fuck you!
Bruce: *smile faltering, eyes getting glassy as tears start to build up* W-what? What did I do Dickie? Why are you mad at me? *voice wobbling*
Dick: Fuckkkk *hugs Bruce, mentally cursing himself out* Nothing Dad, nothing at all
——
Tim: B, you need to sign this stack of papers for… the uh… investors…
Bruce: *holding up a steaming cup of Tim’s favorite coffee, smiling in that boyish way everyone loves* Timmy you work so hard! I made this for you *eyes sparkling earnestly*
Tim: *looking between the coffee and the paperwork Bruce has been putting off for the past week* I- Bruce you gotta sign these. The board is on my ass and you aren’t helping
Bruce: *frowning and slowly lowering the cup* Oh… sorry I thought we could hang out today…
Tim: *already giving in* Fuck it, let’s go watch a movie Dad
——
Alfred: Master Bruce
Bruce: *completely ignoring him and posting on Twitter or Instagram while lying on a cot in the Batcave*
Alfred: Master Bruce please. It is imperative that we clean your scrapes and bruises before you get an infection
Bruce: *whining and looking up at Alfred with puppy dog eyes* Aflie, can’t it wait? Can’t I have a sandwich first? Pretty please?
Alfred: *flashbacks to baby Bruce* I… I suppose. What would you like on your sandwich my boy.
——
Damian: …
Bruce: …
Damian: Why do you do this Baba?
Bruce: *shrugs* Why not? Sooner or later you’ll understand the great power I have over people.
Damian: I see… I shall study this method of manipulation more.
——
Bonus
Clark: M-mister Wayne this is really inappropriate *blushing bright red and trying to adjust his glasses*
Bruce: *currently seated on Clark’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck, titling his head like a lost puppy* Why do ya mean reporter man? I thought that this was supposed to be a very… intimate interview. Do you want me to move?
Clark: No! Ehem… n-no mister Wayne. I’m simply… getting used to it *Clark’s hand flexes from where it’s gripping Bruce’s surprisingly small waist*
Bruce: *playing with the baby hairs on Clark’s neck, a seductive smile on his face as he drops his voice and leans in closer* Yeah? That’s good. I think I really like doing intimate interviews with you. But, the study isn’t the best place to have it. Why don’t we… go up to my bedroom for more privacy?
Clark: *throws Bruce over his shoulders and bounds up the stairs, Bruce is laughing loudly*
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acid-ixx · 3 months ago
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to you, my greatest passion (soft yandere! batfam x traumatized! reader oneshot)
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
tw: allusions to stockholm syndrome, flawed relationship (they have no concept of boundaries) and mild descriptions of injuries and torture (not by the batfam). read until the end for an author's note. happy 4k followers to me :)) uh leave comments if u like this type of analysis and want to see more. i had no direction for writing this. please don't let this flop huhu i might delete this since i don't like it
as much as i love my angst, we all need something soft at times, and moments with yan!batfam with a reader who is absolutely fucking broken from their past that the mere implication that someone could love them is enough to let them melt into whoever's chest they lay upon that night.
just, hurt/comfort. one that heals the soul in its overly possessive embrace. the same way chapped lips peck softly on your cheeks, muscled arms caress your fragile, shivering body, and legs tangle upon yours in a cacophony of warm, cozy blankets.
where as the longer time passes in the manor, the more you learn to love. to let go of the painful memories your tormenters left you. to allow past scars to heal into a mere visage of what once was streaks coated in blood. your family acts as your new abductors, yes, but how could you hold your freedom against them when it is them that comfort you from drowning through the deepest depths of your nightmares?
nightmares of the past, of the knives that break through your already gashed skin, or the ropes that burn through bruises and laceration— every time you wake up crying, with tears running down your cheeks and a pained cry; a recollection of the torture you were subject to, it is them that come running to your room not a moment after.
it's bruce's tall, domineering form that crumbles into soft, snug pillows for you. your father arms that punches criminals into prison become the shoulder you lean on. calloused fingers rub your cheeks, wiping away your tears, holding your face in his palms like you're the most fragile thing on earth— and you are. every time he looks at your dampened eyes and sniffling nose, he gets reminded of how lonely he was as a child, who lost his parent too young to the cruelty of the world, of gotham and her unyielding coldness. and when he reminisces, he begins to cage you in his arms a tad bit tighter, begins to comfort you longer and softer than he has ever done with anyone else, as if he is reassuring himself. it is with you that his vulnerability, that fear of loss becomes all too stronger. and every time you cry a bit longer, your hold on his sleeves becoming unyielding, does bruce become crueler in his pursuit of fighting crime, a lesson to himself that the people he punishes are those with hands capable enough to harm you, his precious, his pearl that glints throughout the moonlight.
whenever your father is unavailable, it's dick who runs to you, with all the intention to provide you comfort. it's him who calls you his baby bird, as he reassures you that you're no burden in his eyes every time you scream in terror as your sleep. it's him who loves to drown you in his affection, always near, always close, never far and never too much. physically, he's the most doting to a fault. tender, yet tight were his hugs. his kisses to your cheeks and your forehead always linger, as if hesitant to release itself from its rightful place. it's a testiment to how much he loves you, how he's incapable of separating himself from you. god, he loves you so much he wishes he'd just melt right into your skin, so that you actually finally realize how you're the most important thing in the world to him. you, his baby bird. if he had met you sooner, quite earlier, right after his parent's have died, then maybe he could've managed his anger better, could've learned to cope with you through the battles you both fought. it's with you that dick feel unbearably euphoric, ready to spill his love to the point where tears consume his eyes and his head laid on your chest refuses to detach itself.
jason isn't familiar with what warmth feels like, not anymore. but when he sees your hapless state, he sees a reflection of himself in that abandoned warehouse. broken, defiled, hurt. with nothing to comfort you from the cold other than the ropes that burn through your skin and the adrenaline that runs through your veins. he forgots what solace feels like, what it means, but through your shared trauma does jason learn. he learns to talk to you, with you, learns to pinpoint each and every emotion he felt at the time, what you felt inside that putrid basement. he learns to manage his grief because he doesn't want to anger himself looking at you, at just how much justice can only serve so many. the longer you talk to jason, the more he becomes softer, yet hungrier. he learns how to hold you in a way a brother learns to hold his baby sibling for the first time when conceived. he relearns the warmth he felt, like when he was finally able to be good enough to be the successor to the title of robin, when he felt you drool on his chest when you trusted him enough to sleep in his room. yet this time that feeling was accompanied with that ominous, distracting essence. one that makes jason's knuckles crack and have him prepare his guns, as he discovers that you can never truly erase the past. and even though it might take years for him to be your ideal brother, he could at least be your sole protector.
then there's tim, who never truly had the opportunity to develop that deeper sense of love he wanted to feel until he was officially adopted into the wayne family right after his parents' death. don't get him wrong, he loves his mom and dad, and so does he loves his current family— but it's obsession that drives him nonetheless. the need to prove himself, to gather information about everyone to know who they truly are; beyond that there's nothing more than shallowness, a neverending hole he can't satisfy. but with you? oh god, you. to tim, you're his everything. you devour his being whole. with you, there's always something new. the need to track every single thing about you leads him into this cycle of want and need that coagulates into desire, into drive. every time you smile, or laugh, or frown, he gains newer intel about you, one he loops into the deepest crevices of his brain at a constant, you are his constant. but staying right behind you can only do so much. and as he sits right beside you in bed, awkwardly comforting you through the ways he mirrored off from his brothers: a sloppy kiss to your knuckles, a joke cracked here and there, and wiping your eyes and nose with his sleeves; tim learns that stalking can only do so much. he learns what it feels like to be needed for emotional connection and nothing else and that only further motivates him to be perfect for you, and to be with you, his sibling, more often than to simply live right under your nose.
and damian, your baby brother, who's unsurprisingly the one who sleeps in your room, or has you sleep in his room, the most. damian tells himself he's incapable of love, of showing it or reciprocating it. but for you, he tries, and like jason, he learns. he discovers just how depraved both of you are when it comes to love. it enlightens you both and it makes damian feel a deeper sense of connection with you than anyone else. with you, he feels like a child: vulnerable, yet uncaring and free, like the true meaning of being a robin, one the soars through the skies with no grandfather or mother or league to watch your every step as their successor. all the times you cry, he silently sobs with you, holding your cheeks down to his level with scarred palms. silent, yet comforting, he'd allow his smaller form to simply become your teddy bear whilst he whispers consolations. about how strong his older sibling is, how precious you are for being comfortable with him to speak of your problems, how you're everything to damian just as he wishes to be the world for you. it makes you think you're more immature that him, it makes him grateful that he has you. even though he doesn't say it, he shows through actions just how truly important you are whenever he draws a sword towards his enemies, thinking about you and his unsaid promises.
nights where you're reminded of that solitary confinement, of the darkness that creeps into your vision and the voices that pierce through your ears. nights where you feel you've exhausted yourself of hope, where what was once warmth that hugs your heart is now that frigid, yet burning spikes that penetrates into the confidence that you'll somehow, someday, run away from that hellhole— those were nights you thought you'd never live with proper sleep. but as one or two of them holds you in their embrace whenever your nightmares consume your being, you're slowly allowing your established walls to fall apart, all for the mere implication of their love.
who would save you, if not for them? their hushed whispers of consolation, hands that wrap around your figure, and fingers that knead your cheeks provide you that deep sated comfort you always wanted. the sleeves they use to wipe away both saltine liquid and snot, to slowly silence your blubbering rambles, your inconsolable crying; it's warmer than the basement you used to be locked in as a child, with dripping faucets the only source of your water— they saved you once before, who's to say they won't save you a thousand times more?
every time you feel like crying, every time that familiar faulty tap in your eyes begins to dampen against ashen skin, it's them that asks you if you're alright. even if you grit your teeth, even if you seeth or bite or beat or punch or kick, to punish yourself, to cope through the trauma, to not feel nothing.
every time pain begins to sear through your skin, it's your grandfather, father, brothers and sisters that huddle around you and tell you 'you're safe here, in the manor, with us'.
every time they spend hours, ditching patrol nights, cooking your comfort food, reading your favorite books, watching movies for hours, ignoring your assigned sleep schedule, kissing your scarred hands gently, reverently, cuddling your form against their strong ones as a silent promise that with them, there's nothing to harm you no more— you'd feel lighter every time, a tad happier, even. slowly, but surely, melting against the confines of your adorned cage and the embrace of your loving captors.
every time they help you heal, it makes you forgive, and it makes you forget their prior kidnapping in return of building new memories with them, in a safer haven, with nobody to hurt you any longer, with nobody to bash your head against concrete walls, to punish you. you who is underserving of the circumstances bought upon you back then.
safe, a word you thought you'll never feel, a word you didn't even know existed in the crevices of your heart. but it is with them that you slowly start to associate safe with family.
the family that you've come to love and cherish in your own imperfect ways, the same way a stray dog becomes too loyal to a passerby when given bones for leftovers every day.
but you're not an animal, and you're not a pavlovian dog meant to be conditioned. no, you're their baby, their love, their treasure and their only one. the love they feed you exceeds beyond leftovers. only you can devour them wholly, the same way they cloak your world in the love that fills that neverending pit in your heart.
you're not biologically related to any of them in any way, too. yet it was all a matter of coincidence that they stumbled upon you.
but really, past is past.
then is then.
now it's just you and them.
it's you, with them.
just your family. overbearing, overprotective, overpowering.
but nothing is always over to you. their love isn't too much. how could you tell yourself it's too much? not when you were never given a basis of what is too much. how is one too much when you were never even given enough?
trust is built upon a foundation of connecting with others who can relate with you one way or another, who can see past through your flaws and mistakes— it's a bond that precedes mere acquaintanceship.
you might've met them later than everyone else, but it's you that completes them.
you're the puzzle that completes the family photographs, the goal for bruce to continue his legacy as batman and to ward off all evil, the inspiration for dick to be that aspiring hero everyone sees him to be, the reason jason begins to reform himself for your sake, the purpose for tim's endless pursuit of knowledge, the muse for damian's painting, the subject for his love he thought was no more, the ambition for steph's prolongation despite her countless of failures, the motivation for barbara to seek out all the criminals who have harmed you, the influence for cass to be stronger to protect you, the catalyst for duke to use his metahuman abilities for good, to take out those who walk in broad daylight, as if they weren't involved in your past tortures.
you're everything that they are.
their sunshine and moonlight, their companionship and loneliness, their pain and pleasure, their yin and yan.
their greatest passion.
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a/n: hii guys erm. this is so sudden and also counts as a rant but yk... i feel like quitting this blog but at the same time not. it's just, i feel like writing has been more of an obligation than anything else. it doesn't help the fact that i've only been getting interaction if i were to actually produce something good. beyond that, it feels like people are expecting more of me. i get it, updates are sporadic, they appear in the blink of an eye when you least expect it, but at the same time it's just hard juggling what i want to write and what i feel like i need to write. this blog was primarily to post about my thoughts and to talk to people but lately, every time i open this app to write, i feel these plethora of thoughts and expectations telling me that if i don't do well enough then people would merely ignore whatever i post or it's just bad by standards. and yes i'm grateful for all the people supporting my writing, but at the same time i'm lead to a cycle of me losing my motivation to continue writing. ugh idk what im doing anymore help :((
tl;dr: will i stop writing? no, but at the same time i don't know. someday, i may deactivate this account out of impulse if i feel too much, or not. it depends hehe.
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incorrectbatfam · 1 year ago
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Bruce is a cat owner with his kids. He'll hold one up and go, with happy tears in his eyes, "I found this one in a dumpster with rabies, hissing at me and trying to claw my eyes out."
Bruce, picking up Dick: I adopted this one from the circus.
Bruce, picking up Jason: I found this one scratching my car.
Bruce, picking up Tim: This one showed up on my doorstep with those big eyes.
Bruce, picking up Damian: Talia re-homed this one to me.
Bruce, picking up Cass: I found this poor thing wandering around in the cold.
Bruce, picking up Duke: This one's my newest foster.
Bruce, picking up Steph: And this one's a dog but I love her nonetheless.
Alfred: How are you holding them all at once?
Bruce: Don't talk to me or my fur babies ever again.
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ahqkas · 6 days ago
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♯ I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO MY DAD . . . for teaching me everything he knows ( dick grayson & jason todd as dads ! )
— fem!reader as mom, fluff, not edited, based on this req.!!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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. . . DICK GRAYSON !
dick was always great with kids; his natural warmth, patience, and humor made him a magnet for them, even before he became a father. he often thought back to his days as robin, remembering how bruce wayne took him in and gave him stability, and he wanted to offer that same feeling ( and definitely more ) to his children.
when you two first talked about having kids, he was equal parts excited and nervous about it. dick worried about balancing family life with his vigilante responsibilities, but he couldn’t wait to start a family with you. he knew that no matter what, you’d face it together
your first child, a boy, inherits your husband’s bright energy and natural charisma. from the moment your son was born, dick was a hands-on dad. midnight feedings? no problem. diaper changes? a breeze ( well, almost ). he approached fatherhood the same way he approached everything else—with passion and a healthy dose of humor
he’s not just the dad who builds the coolest blanket forts or makes pancakes shaped like bats; he’s the dad who listens, encourages, and shows up, no matter how tired he might be after a long night of patrol. even when exhaustion clings to him like a second skin, his kids come first. if his son wants to show him the new drawing he made, dick will sit down and marvel at it as if it belongs in a gallery. if his daughter has a nightmare, he’s at her bedside in seconds, stroking her hair and whispering how she’s okay and nothing’s gonna hurt her while he’s here until she drifts back to sleep
he’s the dad who remembers every detail about his kids’ lives—their favorite bedtime stories, their least favorite vegetables, the songs that make them smile—and makes sure they feel seen and heard every single day. when he’s with them, he’s fully present, setting aside his worries about blüdhaven or the weight of his world. to them, he’s not nightwing; he’s just dad, their safe place, the person they know will always be there no matter what
he teaches your son how to ride a bike, holding the seat steady as those wobbly first attempts make an appearance. “you’ve got this!” dick encourages his son, jogging beside him. when the first scrape happens—knees meeting pavement in a blur of surprise and pain—he’s there in an instant, crouching down with the kind of gentle urgency only a dad can master
his strong arms wrap around his son in a hug that says, i’ve got you, even as tears well up in the young eyes. he’s quick with jokes to soothe the sting, brushing dirt and pebbles off tiny palms. “hey, you know what? you’re officially a biker now. all the pros have scars to prove it.”
it doesn’t matter if he’s running on just a few hours of sleep or if his legs are sore from the night before. he’ll stay on that sidewalk all afternoon if it means helping his son find the courage to get back on the bike
when your daughter is born, it’s as if a new light ignites in dick’s heart, one that’s softer and warmer than anything he’s ever felt before. from the moment he holds her—tiny, delicate, and swaddled in pastel pink—he’s utterly smitten by the baby. his breath catches in his throat as her little fingers curl instinctively around one of his. it’s the smallest thing, but to him, it’s everything. he gazes at her with an awe that rivals the first time he stood under a gotham sunrise after a long patrol as robin
every little thing she does—every yawn, every sleepy coo, even the way she scrunches her nose—melts him completely. he’s the first to volunteer for late-night feedings, cradling her against his chest while whispering soft lullabies. “it’s okay, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, as if the sound of it alone could shield her from the world
she’s the spitting image of you, but she’s got dick’s sense of curiosity and mischief. as she grows, it’s clear she’s a daddy’s girl through and through. dick spoils her with affection, often carrying her on his shoulders or letting her “style” his hair, even if it means showing up to patrol with hair ties
she’s the one who always convinces him to stay for “just one more bedtime story,” and dick can never say no to those puppy eyes. he does all the voices, acting out scenes with a dramatic flair that leaves her giggling uncontrollably
family movie nights are a regular occurrence. dick lets the kids pick the movie, even if it means sitting through the same animated film for the fifth time. he doesn’t mind—he’s just happy to have everyone snuggled up together
. . . JASON TODD !
jason never thought he’d be a dad. gotham wasn’t kind to kids, and in his darker moments, he felt like it had swallowed the boy he used to be whole. he worried his own traumas—nights spent cold and hungry on the streets, the ache of betrayal, the sting of abandonment—might cast shadows over the kind of father he’d want to be. how could he teach love and trust when his world had been built on survival and second chances?
the thought of holding a child, so small and fragile, scared him more than any villain ever could. what if he didn’t have it in him to be the kind of dad they deserved? what if his sharp edges cut too deep, or worse, he failed to protect them from the city that had failed him? jason had spent so long fighting his way through life that the idea of creating a safe, warm space for someone else felt like trying to plant flowers in a wasteland. and yet, the thought of building something good—something untouchable by gotham’s darkness—stirred a longing in him he couldn’t ignore.
when you told him you were pregnant with your first child, he was stunned silent for a solid minute. then came the slight tremble in his hands as he cradled your face and whispered, “we’re really doing this?” you swore you saw tears in his eyes, though he’d deny it later
he threw himself into preparing for fatherhood. between patrols, you’d catch him reading baby books, jotting down notes in that same serious way he planned missions. ( “what the hell is a diaper genie, baby? is it a genie for diapers, or does it genie them away?” )
when your first daughter was born, jason held her for the first time with an awe. he whispered promises to her, things like, “you’ll never go through what i did,” and “i’m gonna give you the world, princess.”
jason’s daughters own him. his rough, serious ide of personality melts into a puddle of mush when they so much as giggle at him. one pouty face, and he’s done for
when they’re little, he becomes a human jungle gym. they’ll climb all over him, pull on his hair, and stick stickers all over his face while he sits patiently, letting them “decorate” him. ( “you’re turning me into a unicorn, huh? cool. just don’t let your mom take pictures—too late? figures.” )
as they grow, he keeps a close eye on everything, from their friends to the neighborhoods they walk through. he’s not overbearing but has serious dad-radar. if they so much as mention a creepy guy or a mean teacher, he’s all, “do i need to handle this? no? you sure? okay, but say the word.”
by age eight, they’ve both mastered basic self-defense, thanks to “daddy’s fun time karate sessions.” he makes it a game—lots of laughter and encouragement—but underneath it, he’s deadly serious
when they’re older, he teaches them how to change a tire, handle their own money, and, much to your exasperation, how to throw a punch. ( “jason, they don’t need to know how to disarm a grown man at ten years old!” “baby, it’s gotham. yes, they do.” )
he’s the kind of dad who makes pancake breakfasts on weekends, complete with smiley faces and way too much syrup
on father’s day, his daughters surprise him with handmade cards every year. jason’s tough demeanor cracks every time he reads their scrawled messages: “daddy, you’re my hero.”
and jason as a father to teenage girls? lord, help us all.
when his eldest goes on her first date, he plays it cool—for all of two seconds. he grills the poor kid with subtle threats hidden behind a charming smile. ( “so, you like my daughter? good. treat her right, or you’ll have a real bad night. understand?” )
you have to remind him not to tail them when they go out. “jason, they’ll know you’re following them.” “i’ll stay a block behind. they’ll never see me.”
but despite his overprotectiveness, he’s their anchor during tough times. when they experience their first heartbreaks, he is there with hugs, ice cream, and the kind of pep talks that make them laugh through their tears. “anyone who doesn’t see how amazing you are isn’t worth crying over. you’re the todd girl. we don’t settle for less.”
deep down, jason worries about failing them. he knows what it’s like to lose everything, and the thought of his girls experiencing even a fraction of that makes his stomach churn
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ihrthoney · 1 month ago
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typing this laying in bed forcing myself to sleep but my brain wants to write so headcanon format it is.
thinking about ak!jason who has no idea that after his ‘death’ that you went insane looking for him. but you were no detective, you weren’t in the police field, you were just jason todd’s girlfriend.
but you damn well did everything you could, from begging bruce, to sneaking into offices, looking for nightwing, anything.
you taught yourself to use a gun to search places alone. jason would scold you for doing such a thing for him but you didn’t care, not when you knew he was alive.
you didn’t know.. but your gut feeling told you he was. a body was never found, nothing. you refused to believe it.
“you didn’t find anything? no pieces of his suit? no blood? nothing!?” you screamed and cried at batman, desperate, grieving.
“i’ve looked-“
“no! you didn’t! because if you did look everywhere you would’ve found something! all this technology and you still couldn’t track the location?”
“it’s not that simple.”
“right, because you aren’t the greatest detective in the world”
you tried to distract yourself with work but it was no use, not when you came home opening the spare bedroom door to your mess of a room. papers everywhere, maps, pictures, you would’ve seemed insane to any normal person.
you were exhausted, too many dreams of him in front of you but that’s all it was. dreams.
one night, you felt someone push your hair behind your ear. instantly, like jason taught you, you grabbed the knife under your pillow and went to slash at the intruder but the knife made a thud as it hit the floor.
a hand, gently, wraps around your wrist.
you blink your eyes awake, taking in the person in your home.
jason.
no. it’s another dream.
“you’ve gotta be quicker than that, sweetheart.”
you don’t speak, still taking in what’s going on. the light from the moon just barley shows his face.
“hey don’t cry baby, it’s okay.”
you back away, unable to take another hallucination.
“no.. this isn’t real. you can’t be here. i haven’t found you yet.”
“i’m right here, baby.”
shaking your head, you back into the corner of your bed, making yourself as small as you can.
“no, i have to find him. i have to find jason!”
“look at me, sweet girl.”
you can’t tear your face from your arms, so he softly pulls your face up with both hands, wiping your tears,
“i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere ever again.”
the closer he is, the more you notice the difference in his features.
the j on his face, the scars, but his eyes,
his sweet beautiful eyes still look at you with love.
“i’m so sorry.” you give in, real or not, you hug him.
he hates it, after everything he’s been through he can’t take the affection. but for you? for you he’d do anything.
so he lets you cry into him, squeezing him tight, even if he can’t be the jason you loved, he holds you all the same.
sobbing into his chest, “i tried so hard to find you”
“i know you did sweetheart, i saw the room. but it wasn’t your job to find me.”
“don’t say that, you’re the love of my life. i would rather die than stop looking.”
“you did good.”
“i didn’t. you still had to find me.”
“i’d climb out of my grave and crawl back home to you, i’ll always find you.”
“please don’t let this be a dream.”
“i’m right here.”
he holds you until the sun rises, rocking back and forth slightly. he’ll tell you about it all later, for now, he just wants you close.
edit: i will be making this into a fic later ;p
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demonic0angel · 1 month ago
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OWO, you take prompts? How about this?
Danny was born a premature and with a heart defect. The Fenton's try to make a clone so they can get his heart transplanted without fear of organ rejection. But they end up making a full on baby and don't have it in them to kill another version of their son just to save their original boy. Danny ends up pulling through and the clone gets filed as a twin that no one noticed was still in when Maddie was in the hospital. So Maddie "had him at home" and went back so he could be medically examined. The new parents feel ashamed of what they initially were going to do and give the child to a cousin who couldn't conceive.
Tim Drake doesn't know he's adopted until a DNA test reveals that the 'Meta' running around Gotham is his 'twin brother'. And the babies he has, that he does babysitting gigs with, are his twin's 'children'.
(I don’t exactly take prompts, but I don’t mind if you send them. Also, I’m going to assume that the twin’s “children” are Dan and Dani, since that seems to be what people prefer.)
“… are you serious?” Tim asked through the phone.
“Yep,” Dick said, sounding like a mixture of amusement and concern, “How do you feel about it?”
Tim thought about it and then responded, “I guess it makes sense why my parents neglected me so much, since I’m adopted.”
“Awww, baby bird…”
“I’m fine, Dick,” Tim said. He picked Dante and set him on a baby chair. Said child stared at him with electric blue eyes, scowling with his pudgy cheeks as if he wanted to tear Tim apart with his nonexistent teeth. Tim rubbed his chubby cheek with a finger before moving away, still holding the phone to his ear as he picked up the other baby.
Dick continued, “Yeah… also, Bruce says that he’s sorry that he checked your blood without telling you.”
Tim snorted, “No, he didn’t.” Bruce was never sorry for that kind of stuff.
Dick sighed. “Yeah, I lied. Sorry. But he did look guilty! He didn’t want to tell you at first, but Jason convinced him so I’m the one telling you right now.”
Tim hummed, picking up little Ella, who was stubbornly holding onto a small cardboard box. Tim let her hold it and placed her onto the baby chair next to her brother, who immediately reached out for her. It was kinda funny seeing how clingy he was compared to his sister.
“We have more information too. We tracked down the new meta and we’ve been looking into his routes. We suspect that he’s living around here, in Bristol,” Dick said. “We think he’s living in an apartment, at XXX on XXXX street, possibly with a roommate named Jazz.”
Tim paused, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was in the same building, babysitting a bunch of kids on the same street, who also lived with another woman named Jazz. “Uhh. What else?”
“We think he lives on the third floor and possibly also works at a pizza delivery place? Or maybe a fast food restaurant? He’s been flying back and forth between two places besides the apartment.”
Tim began to sweat. “Uh… anything else?”
“There’s a high chance that his name is Danny Nightingale, and Jasmine Nightingale is in on the fact that he’s a meta.”
Fuck.
Tim looked at his niece and nephew with a new light, eyes wide. Ella beamed at him, giggling while Dante just glared.
Welp. At least Bruce would be happy to be a grandfather now. Even if it was to Tim’s secret meta twin brother.
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alisonwritesimagines · 3 months ago
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If Bruce and Batmom Divorced ~Bruce Wayne Imagine~
Summary: The final straw was Bruce officially cheating on you.
Author’s Note: I saw a TikTok about a comic of Catwoman having Bruce’s daughter and I thought of the angst between Batmom and Bruce.
This is not canon to the Batmom Universe
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: Mentions of divorce, angst, cheating
Do not repost this anywhere!
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You were a smart person after living with Bruce Wayne who is also Batman. You learned his tricks and gadgets while being his wife. So when you left without word the day after finding out Selina was pregnant with Bruce’s child, everyone grew into a panic.
“It’s like she just disappeared,” Tim said in disbelief.
“Now I know how she felt when I left the mansion,” Dick says.
“Where could she have gone?” Jason asked.
“Alfred, are you sure she didn’t say anything to you before she left?” Cassandra asked him with a sad and desperate look.
“If you think, she would disappear without telling me, you’re wrong. I do know where she is however, she asked me not to say anything. She only gave it to me for emergencies.”
“Then tell us, Alfred! We won’t tell Bruce,” Stephanie begged.
“I’m afraid I cannot do such thing. Not until she calls me and tells me that she is ready.”
Selina had showed up to your doorstep one afternoon and told you the news of her being pregnant with Bruce's child. You spend the first hour in shock before gathering your stuff that you had packed and left without saying goodbye.
It broke everyone when you left. Even Bruce.
Bruce would rather kill Joker and all the villains if it meant keeping you with him. He would murder every single person with bad in them if it meant he could have you with him. But what he did that finally broke you would never change your mind.
Then came the day when you finally showed up. But with a surprise.
"Mom?" Dick asked in shock.
"Hi honey," you smiled softly. Dick engulfed you into a quick hug before looking at you.
"Are you okay? How are you?" Dick asked.
"I'm okay. I'm doing well," you tell him. "Is Bruce home?"
"Yeah. He's home."
"I need to talk to him," you tell him.
"Yeah. Okay."
You followed Dick inside the manor and found Bruce sitting at the dining room table with Alfred and Damien.
"Ummi!" Damien said the moment he saw you.
He rushed over and hugged you tightly before realizing your condition.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's okay sweetie."
"It's good to see you Ms. Y/n," Alfred said, giving you a hug as well.
"I need to talk to Bruce really quickly. Alone," you tell everyone.
Everyone rushed out of the room so you two could be alone.
"Y/n-"
"I don't want to hear you talk Bruce. I am here to have you sign these," you say as you took out the divorce papers from your purse; "And I am here to let the kids know that I am okay."
"Y/n, can we talk about this? Is the baby mine?" Bruce asked referring to your pregnant bump.
"It's yours. But I don't need you for them. I am going to raise this child alone and we do not need you. You are having a child with Selina so if you want to be a father, go be that child's father because you have no right to be in my life anymore," you tell him.
"I put up with so much with you. And I am done. I am exhausted and being away from you for the past four months made me feel so free and relaxed. I have a good home now and it's in a good city and good neighborhood. I just want you to sign these papers, and let me go."
"I don't want to let you go. I don't want to lose you," Bruce said, looking up at you with tears in his eyes.
"Bruce. You lost me when you went to Selina after you told me you wouldn't go back to her," you tell him, tearing up as well.
"At least let me give you alimony so you don't have to work anymore. If I am going to lose you, at least let me do something good for you one last time," Bruce begged.
"Fine. But I don't want contact with you. I'll talk to the kids gladly and they are more than welcome to visit me or live with me but I am done with you Bruce. Until our child asks about you and wants to see you, then I will tell them about you and that they can visit you with the other kids as supervision. But for now, I don't want anything to do with you," you tell him.
"Y/n-"
"You can mail the paperwork to my lawyer," you tell Bruce before walking out. You found Damien and Dick standing by the door after you opened it. You gave them a hug and a kiss on the cheek before walking out. You looked over at Alfred and gave him a small nod.
Alfred walked over to the two boys and handed Dick a piece of paper.
"If you kids want to visit her," Alfred tells them before walking off.
Damien rushed out after you. He wrapped his arms around you, stopping your tracks.
“Don’t leave me Ummi. Please.”
“I’m sorry Damien. Alfred gave my address to you kids so if you want to visit me, you can. But I need to go right now,” you tell your son. Damien nodded before letting you go. You kissed his head once more before getting into your car and driving off.
----
Bruce never interacted with you again after that day. He knew where you lived due to following the kids over to visit you. But he never went down to talk to you. He knew that you were stubborn and that you were holding your ground on not wanting to see him again. He just wished that he could take everything back to have you back in his arms.
The years went on and the kids began to grow up and move out of the house. That was until he got a knock on the door one day.
A girl who looked too much like you stood in front of him as she stared up at him. She couldn’t be older than ten.
"Are you Bruce Wayne?" She asked him.
"Yes I am."
"Hi! I'm Ella. I'm your daughter," she introduced.
"Ella," Bruce sighed in awe. He kneeled down to her height so he can look at her better. "Where's your mother?"
"She doesn't know I'm here. Which reminds me. I need to call her to tell her that I'm okay and that I'm sorry for running away to find you," Ella tells him.
"She will definitely have a heart attack. Come on," Bruce said, holding her hand.
He watched as Ella talked on the phone with you before she looked up at him.
"Mama wants to talk to you," she said, handing the phone over to him.
"Hi, Y/n."
"Is she okay? Is my baby okay?" You asked.
"She's okay. I got her."
"I don't know how on Earth she managed to get to you! I know I said I never wanted to see you again but please bring her back home. We can talk about her seeing you every weekend or something," you tell Bruce.
"Of course."
"I know you know where I live. Just come over with her please. Now," you say.
"I will."
Bruce took Ella back home where you waited for them.
"You young lady are grounded!" You sternly tell your daughter.
"But mom-"
"No buts. Go to your room!" You ordered her. Ella hugged her father before running to her room.
"Y/n-"
"Thank you for bringing her home safely. I can drop her off every weekend if you're not busy for her to see you," you tell Bruce.
"If you think that's best for her."
"She’s been asking to meet you,” you tell him. Bruce stayed silent for a moment.
“How are you?”
“Fine. How are you and Selina? Have you two been raising your child together nicely?” You asked him.
“We aren’t together. She put the child up for adoption,” Bruce explains.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“And I’m sorry for everything. Are you happy?” Bruce asked you.
“I’ve been better.”
“You know, I never stopped thinking about you.”
You stared at him for a moment.
“I’ll drop her off next weekend after she’s grounded. You can have her for the weekend as well as Father’s Day. I’ll have my lawyer draft up a new custody agreement,” you tell Bruce.
“You could always come with her,” Bruce said.
“No. Like I said years ago Bruce. I’m done with you. I can forgive you. But you also proved to me that you will never love me as much as I loved you,” you tell him.
“I’m sorry Y/n. For everything,” Bruce said before walking out of your home.
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yourmidnightlover · 10 months ago
Text
the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
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you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
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the-daydreaming-show · 10 months ago
Text
❝never a tear, baby of mine❞ — Jason Todd
dick's version
Jason was a quiet kid. So quiet and calm that he didn't was totally a child, more was like a mini adult.
NOTE:
This is like REALLY late, because I had problems with my internet and the power on me going out, so I apologize for that.
As always, thanks to our beta reader: @igotmessymind.
And wiht no further ado, I hope you find wait worth it, I apologize again and that you for reading!!
XOXO ELLA.
This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that I have create. I hope you enjoy!!!
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.
WARNINGS: Mentions of child neglect; Jason (not his actual) mom death.
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Contrary to popular belief, Dick was always the son who kept you and Bruce on the edge of your seats. 
People were always surprised when you told them this. Probably, because with those blue eyes and adorable dimples, your eldest son knew how to fool people so easily. But the boy had grown up in the circus and had more energy than a thunderbolt. You couldn't count the times you found him hanging from the ceiling lamps, practicing his pirouettes. He was the reason there was a strict rule at Wayne Manor about not taking your feet off the ground without adult supervision.
Jason, your baby, he was easy. People were shocked at this statement as well.
People expected him to be a little savage whenever you guys made a public appearance, whether it was at a gala or going to the market.
Yes. You had to keep him from talking to the press, because he had a habit of being verbally deadly, but other than that he was always the calmest of kids. But other than that, he never left his calm character at all times when being in public and in private as well. 
This unfounded popular belief probably had something to do with the boy being taken off the streets by you and your husband. Literally.
Your husband kidnapped a child from an alley in Gotham on a given winter night.
Mmmh, maybe Bruce was your most chaotic boy and not Dick like you thought.
You weren't in the batcave that night, so Alfred was the one supervising the computer. But when it got particularly late, just before the sun began to rise, you woke up to find that your husband still wasn't sleeping clinging to your waist like he usually did. So you decided to go downstairs to see what was going on.
You meet Alfred, waiting with a tray with three cups of freshly brewed tea.
“Are we expecting someone, Alfred?”  you asked as you approached the man preparing everything with elegance.
“That's right, Miss” the man said, looking up with amused eyes “Master Bruce has found company on tonight's patrol” he gave you the look of a father disappointed but not surprised by his son's actions. But before you could say more or ask questions, the sound of the Batmobile in the distance made you approach the platform where the car typically parked.
Bruce jumped out of the car, in his Batman suit, without any injuries that you could see, then leaned over to help a small body out of the vehicle. He was a boy, skinny to the bone, in your eyes, dressed inappropriately for the weather, and looking around with startled eyes. You looked at your husband in confusion, Bruce could practically see the question mark on your forehead. So he walked over to you, while the boy was too gawking at the cave to notice that you guys were talking to the side.
“¿Did you kidnap a child again?” you asked in a worried whisper.
“No” Bruce defended himself, pulling off the hood of his suit so that you could see all of his beautiful face in front of you. “His name is Jason” he explained to you while they both looked at the boy for a moment. Jason had stepped away from the Batmobile to look down at the edge of the platform at the void below you, his cheeks against the metal of the railings. (You were mentally grateful to have convinced Bruce to put those railings all over the cave, after that Dick started spending more time there years ago). “And I found him trying to steal the tires from the Batmobile. He was alone, and he told me that he intended to sell it to buy food” he told you, and you instinctively looked at said car.
That beastly car had almost been desecrated by the little hands of a hungry child, who didn't seem at all affected by the idea of almost robbing THE Batman. You found the situation amusing.
“Really?”, you asked your husband, smiling amused. 
All while Jason was looking fascinated at the ceiling of the cave and wondering: ¿Where did the lights hang from?. He couldn't see the roof of the place.
“Yeah. And he almost got away with it.” Bruce seemed almost proud of the boy's actions, and you couldn't feel the same way. Press your lips together in an attempt not to laugh out loud. 
“¿And how does all that explain your kidnapping him?” you asked teasingly, to which Bruce rolled his eyes in exoneration and giggled impishly at it.
“You are Bruce Wayne's wife” the boy's voice made them both look at him, but the boy was not intimidated and kept talking. “Which makes sense, because if Bruce Wayne is Batman, obviously his wife will know.” he said, more like a thought out loud than a conversation with you. “My mom used to say that she would die from one of the shoes you put up and that they showed on TV, but in the end she died from the drugs, not your shoes” he explained naturally. To which you threw your head back a bit in surprise at such a natural statement about something that must have been very sad. Looking at your husband and his eyes told you it was the first time he heard about this. “I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Wayne.” the boy apologized quickly, suddenly very aware that he was talking to two of the richest people in Gotham (and the world as well) “B told me I could spend the night here. But don't worry tomorrow, in the morning I'll leave without causing any problems” he quickly explained to you.
You looked at your husband again, and he left a memory in his mind for you to see as an explanation. He showed you how he had found the boy, how Bruce had talked him into agreeing to let him buy something to eat and then offered him a place to sleep, because the boy admitted that he was all alone. With a dead mother and a father who was in prison, the boy lived on the streets of Gotham, surviving as best he could. Jason hadn't trusted him at first, which was understandable. Who knew what he had seen living on the streets of a city like Gotham. So Bruce did the only thing he could think of to gain the boy's trust, so he could get him to safety, as he took off his mask. And Jason, faced with such a show of honesty, agreed to get on the Batmobile to return with Bruce to the cave. (Or, Bruce put the boy in the car before he could get over the shock of the news. It depends on how you look at it.)
“Oh honey. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all, we have plenty of space available” you assured him with a sweet smile to which the boy smiled back. It was true, since Dick had moved in with the Titans, there was too much empty space for your liking. “Come, sit down and have some tea, it will help with the cold” you said, pointing up the stairs to the main platform of the cave.
“Cool!” the boy exclaimed as they started walking. Bruce instinctively reached for your hand, not wanting you to stray too far from him, just because.
Then Jason ate a dozen of Alfred's cookies, drank all his tea, and at the end, Bruce let him touch the batcomputer, watching the boy's fascination with all the buttons. (Of course, the latter was under your and Bruce's watch. You didn't want the boy to activate some self-destruct protocol or something). He played with the satellite map for a while, showing you the places he had been and the school he used to go to before his mother died. Then he started to yawn, and you were sure the sun should have risen outside by that point.
“Well, it's time to go up” you said when you saw him yawn widely for the third time. “Come on” you stood up from your seat next to him to offer him your hand. The boy frowned at you, severely confused.
“¿Up where?” he asked, looking at your hand suspiciously, but rising to take it and follow you nonetheless. You had that effect on him. You were so pretty, and warm, and kind that he thought to himself, there was no way you were real, surely all of this must be a cruel hallucination of some kind.
“Up home, Jay” you told her as you turned to be greeted by a Bruce who had already come out of his suit and was waiting for them both on the stairs to the elevator. “We're below Wayne Manor” you explained, thinking that he was confused as to what was above your heads and why they would go there.
“Will you let me sleep in your mansion?!” the surprised boy asked. There was definitely something wrong there, there was no way two of the richest people in the city would let him sleep in his house, in one of his beds, with expensive mattresses and even more expensive sheets. Impossible.
“Of course” you said with a sweet smile, “We have many empty rooms and now one of them is yours”
“Your room is ready, young Jason.” Alfred told him, joining the walk to the elevator. “Though maybe an extra cookie or two was left in the room by accident. I hope that's not a problem for you” he said, smiling complacently, at which the boy laughed mischievously. You gave him a look that Alfred pretended not to catch, and they all went on their way while.
“I didn't think you would let me sleep at your house.” the boy admitted shyly, looking at his shoes, once again thinking aloud.
It took you a second to realize that Jason had thought she'd leave him sleeping in the cave, like a stray dog, and it broke your heart. You promised yourself to do everything you could to make that little boy feel like he deserved nothing less than the best in the world.
Jason didn't leave the mansion after that day. 
Social Services didn't put up much resistance to the adoption, for two reasons. Firstly, you and Bruce already had a pretty good record of adopting and raising Dick. And second, stirring up the issue too much would show how they hadn't looked for Jason after he had run away from his last home. From what you've seen, his file only contains basic information leading up to the fact that he was supposed to be in foster care with 10-15 other kids, but clearly they've been on the streets for quite some time. And Jason seemed to have adjusted quickly when the caseworker came to visit for the first few weeks, at least to her standards. But in your eyes, the child was far from having adapted to the idea of being part of the family.
Jason gets up early, before everyone else in the house.
You had learned from the experience with Dick that establishing a strict bedtime schedule was important in the long run. So you knew he was sleeping because you watched him before you went to sleep yourself. So the boy sleeps well and you could confirm it. He had admitted to you that it had been difficult in the early days to sleep at night because he could never really be asleep while living on the streets. Something about the heavy blankets over him made him fall asleep peacefully. His lights went out before he could even finish laying his head on the pillow. Of course, this one you had invested a lot of money in more blankets for the child, which was the only thing that Jason had allowed to be bought for his room.
He assured you that the room was fine as is, and it did not need to be changed. What you'd called bullshit all along, because there was no way a kid would like a room that was the closest thing to a blank page. But you hadn't pushed him, waited until he was more comfortable in the new  environment. 
So the boy was sleeping in a guest room he didn't want to make entirely his own. He was up before anyone else in the house, even Alfred. He would get ready and go down to breakfast alone. He got what he needed by scaling the counter and cabinets if necessary, leaving Alfred to clean up the marks on his slippers. This until Jason overheard him, after which he started taking off his sneakers before climbing up to find the cereal. He ate breakfast in silence, looking out the kitchen window at the patio, then washed everything he had used by hand, even though there is a state-of-the-art dishwasher in the kitchen. He then left the kitchen and got lost in the mansion. 
Bruce found him in the mansion's library a couple of times. Jason said that he was trying to practice his reading, since he hadn't been to school since before her mom died because he had to take care of her when her dad was arrested. Your husband offered his help, but the boy refused. And since Jay realized that his hideout had been discovered, he began to roam the mansion, picking random rooms to hide in during the day when you and Bruce began to keep him company in the library. 
The child hides and avoids both of you. You at first thought that was a repeat of Dick's first few months, that Jason was mad at the world. Consequently, you would expect anger and yelling anytime you ran into Jason around the mansion. You mentally braced yourself for the thought of all that chaos again, how he would sneak out of school when he started once the holidays were over and the whole package was over. 
This time, you were ready and prepared to help him with that rage. You won't let it consume you like Dick did for a long time because you didn't know how to handle it. This time you will do well.
But Jason's eyes would light up when you or your husband greeted him in the mornings after meeting him at the house. He clung to the hands of one or both of you every time you went out into the street. He would hug your waist when you hid him from the paparazzi in the park. (You had a no-photos rule for your kids, only official photos approved by you and your husband, so you and the paparazzi didn't have the best relationship in the world.) He let you guys hug him and look at him without problem. He never initiates affection, but he clung to it when it was given to him, both from you and from Bruce, or Alfred even.
So you were confused, to say the least.
However, you had learned your lesson with Dick. There were situations in which you had to be active and aggressive to help your children. So you talked to Bruce and you both decided it was time to talk to Jason about this peculiar pattern.
Then Alfred told you that if they both faced him at the same time, it would be too intimidating for the boy, causing him to shut down more than help.
Blessings be Alfred. He has always been the smartest in the house (don't tell that to Bruce).
Like every night, Jason had already gotten ready and tucked themselves into bed. Also, he had offered to help Alfred with the cleaning like every day, but the butler had refused as he did a lot lately. So he decided to do the whole night routine without bothering you: he brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, got into bed and read a book, like you usually offer to do. It cost him less than before, but still some words were complicated. 
You arrived shortly after he had finished reading his fourth story of the night and had accidentally gotten hooked on reading another one. You knocked on the door softly as you opened it.
“Oh, you're already in bed,” you commented, surprised that the boy had done everything himself. Usually, he lets you help with all of this without a problem, so you're disappointed that he won't let you help him.
“Yes, and I just read one story,” he said, quickly trying to hide that he had disobeyed the one-story rule. Jason didn't want you to be angry. He knew you wouldn't hurt him, but he feared your disappointment more than your fury.
“Really?”, you asked excitedly. You knew how hard he had worked to improve his reading these past few weeks to prepare for school. “That's amazing, honey,” you told him as you closed the door softly and walked to sit next to him. Jason smiled happily at your tone of pure joy and pride in his accomplishment.
“Yes,” Jason said as he closed the book and left it on the nightstand, excited to tell you about his progress, “I still have a hard time with some words. But I will fix it before school starts.” He made it clear to you right away, so don't worry.
The truth is that Jason didn't want to bother. Not you, not Alfred, not Bruce. In his mind, that was the way to be a good son. That was what his parents had taught him.
Willis Todd hated it when Jason was in the way. He always ran into him around the house (although that was probably beer-related), and that ended badly for Jason. So Jason learned quickly to stay out of the way so as not to be in the way, not in the sight of his parents, because that was good. His mother never said anything against that arrangement, so he always assumed she agreed.
When his dad left, disappearing without any notice (Jason eventually found out on the streets that he had been arrested and sent to prison), it became difficult for his mom not to see him since she had to do everything. But she was too high to notice half the time. And the other half, when she was aware of him, she wasn't aggressive towards him, she went from hugging him lovingly to crying on her shoulder. As if Catherine were the child and Jason was the father, she was comforting. Then she didn't get up after one dose, and the police came after he called an elderly woman who lived next door to her to ask her to call an ambulance. Then they put him in a couple of foster homes. But no one paid much attention to him, and it wasn't worth putting up with the other children, especially the older ones, who enjoyed tormenting him for being smaller. So he ended up on the street, taking care of himself. It was more natural for him to depend on himself alone than to let them take care of him.
“Well,” you said, settling next to him against the headboard, “but there's no need for that. That's why you're going to school — to learn,” you explained as you ran your hand through his curls. “It's okay if you don't know everything before that.”
“But I don't want to be behind the rest of my classmates, they surely already know how to read very well,” he explained regretfully, somewhat embarrassed.
Only once had his parents been called to the school he had gone to in Park Row. The teacher meant well, for sure. But telling her father that Jason seemed to need a little more help than usual with his reading and that it would be a good idea to move him to a school with a special program for kids like him only made her father see it. And that was never something good. He didn't want you to feel upset with him for that, either. 
“It doesn't matter what other children know or don't know, Jason,” you assured him lovingly. “It matters that you learn without fear of not knowing. It's not a bad thing to not know how to do something that's hard for you to do, sometimes,” you tried to explain, and the boy nodded slowly, processing the information you had given him.
Jason thought for a moment, absorbing what you said, but he was not sure how to respond in a way that would make you happy but not be a nuisance to your daily life. But you didn't let him get to a question because you asked him one in return.
“Jason, my dear,” you called, breaking the boy from his thoughts, who looked at you with big, blue eyes. So precious your baby was. “I have a very important question for you, and I need you to answer me honestly,” you asked him seriously, to which the boy adjusted himself with a worried frown to face you more.
It reminded you of Bruce, who made the same gestures when you talked to him seriously.
Your heart tightened with pride at how your two boys, Dick and Jason, were beginning to imitate Bruce so soon after meeting him. Despite all of his doubts, he was someone the kids immediately looked to as an example. You reminded him repeatedly, despite his complaints, because he needed to be reminded that being Batman wasn't the only way he could make a difference to people. He did it every day in his home, with your children, and with you.
“Yes, Mrs. Wayne - Sorry, y/n,” he corrected himself quickly, but you thought nothing of it despite the way he cringed in place at his own mistake.
“Jay, do you like being here with me, with Bruce, and with Alfred? Are you happy being part of this family?” you asked a little fearfully, sounding as soft as possible so that it didn't feel like an interrogation.
Jason was stunned. His blue eyes looked at you in confusion: Why would you ask such a question? Of course, he was happy, Jason had everything he could need to survive and the company of you and Bruce. Why would you think he wasn't happy with you?
You saw the confusion painted on his face the moment you asked, so you decided to elaborate a little more on the situation.
“You see, Bruce and I have noticed that you don't seem to be around the house much even though you're here. You even get up to have breakfast alone. It seems like you are hiding from us, Jay. Which is why Bruce and I are worried” you began to explain in a soft tone, “Did something happen? Is there something bothering you?
“No, there's nothing that bothers me,” Jason assured quickly, so worried about the situation. “I just don't want to be in the middle,” the boy explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Which made your heart break, and you wondered why he would believe that.
Would there have been any comments from you or Bruce?
Or something you guys did that gave Jason that impression?
Whatever it was, it needed a solution because it couldn't be further from the truth. Personally, you had missed having a child in the house, and so had Bruce, despite his attempt to pretend that Dick's departure hadn't bothered him.
Your husband and eldest son had a very ugly fight before he went to live in the Teen Titans Tower. He had arranged for you and Alfred to serve as intermediates. But that didn't change your oldest son's decision to move out of the house. A lot of his stuff was still at Wayne Manor, but he wasn't, which made it a little depressing for you.
“Why do you think you're in the middle?” you asked sadly.
“Well, I know it bothers adults when kids are all over them needing things and asking questions. So I try not to be too intense with you because I am very grateful because now I am part of the family.” Jason shrugged as he looked at his hands, trying to remove his cuticles. A nervous habit that you had noticed.
Unsure of what to do, you played it safe and hugged Jason over the shoulder with one arm, holding him close to you, while with your other free hand, you stopped the suggestion of pinching your cuticles by taking his hand and caressing his plasma instead.
You thought for a moment about how you could handle the whole situation without the need to abruptly destroy the belief system and give it a crisis. You also didn't want all of this to sound like a reprimand for believing something that couldn't be further from the truth, because it wasn't his fault. But you weren't going to leave things like that.
“You know, Jay. Bruce and I are not like other adults," you started feeling a little like Mean Girls' mom and her 'I'm not a regular mom, I'm a cool mom', which made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept going. “We love having you around. Dick got us used to that, you know, so we’d love for you to get in the middle as much as you like Jay,” you explained, and the boy looked at you with wide eyes, a gleam of hope in them.
“Really?” he asked doubtfully.
“Really serious,” you assured him with a smile, which Jason couldn’t help but quickly spread. “Besides, you can always know without a doubt that as long as you are in the middle of your father and mine, you will never have to worry about anything. Because you will be safe and sound,” you assured him gently, moving a hair from his forehead and then kissing the area lovingly.
“I like that,” Jason whispered, as if the thought had escaped him, looking at you with stars in his eyes. He really liked that idea.
Jason ran down the stairs while you calmly entered the house with bags of clothes in hand. Alfred was behind you with more bags and resigned to the fact that you had once again bought extra clothes for the whole family. Yes, you also bought him a couple of new sweaters, the kind he liked, but he insisted they were too expensive.
You didn't finish passing through the living room towards the stairs when Jason ran up and hugged your waist without thinking twice. Now, at thirteen years old, it would probably be time for you to start asking him to take care of the force with which he threw himself into his arms whenever he saw you. But the truth is that you didn't want him to. If you two fell, so be it, but you would never ask Jason to walk away. Not after what it was like the first time your son was in the house.
“Hello, sweet boy,” you said to Jason while hugging as best you could with the bags in your arms. “I got you another one of those hoodies that you said you liked. I got it in red, I thought that color would look good on you”.
Jason didn't stop hugging your waist as the three of you went upstairs to leave the bags so he could try on what you had bought him. Nor when, after trying everything on and being satisfied with his new clothes, you went back downstairs to have tea and eat cookies in the library. Not even when the two of them left there to greet Bruce when he arrived late from the Wayne Enterprise, and he received the same hug, but with more balance than you. Dick arrived, and Jason was still clinging to your waist until all sat down to eat dinner.
“Was I like that?” Dick asked in a mocking whisper to Alfred.
“Was?” mocked back the butler “Master Dick, you are still exactly like that”
𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @poppyalice2001 @lafrone @voodoo-writer @lilvampirina @astrial @maliagurl @kazhaelfuhghi @poppyalice2001 @totallynotme420 @calsjack @igotmessymind @pato-spoiler-27 @urminebutidontwantyou @cluelessteam
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months ago
Note
hi can you do a bruce wayne fic where readers back is pressed to his chest and he’s fucking her so hard and rough while also rubbing and occasionally slapping her clit and reader is just so far gone in pleasure? thank you so so much!! 💗💗
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
NSFW
I don't have a title for this, it's just... pure filth.
Basically just Bruce fucking out his frustration <3
Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 😚
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Your brain was mush and all of your nerve endings were on fire as a breathtaking euphoria flooded your veins, fogging all your senses.
Bruce had been on edge lately, having to deal with not only the idiots at Wayne Enterprises but also Scarecrow running rampant in Gotham at the most inconvenient times, it seemed.
He had come home with a scowl on his face, stomping into the Manor and snatching you away from your cozy spot on the couch, dragging you to the bedroom.
The room was hot, filled with the smell of sex, and you could swear you could see the windows fogging up from the corner of your eye.
Bruce was underneath you, panting and sweating, one arm firmly pressed between your exposed tits right up against your sternum, with the hand wrapped around your throat while is cock was nestled deep inside of you, pouding you into tomorrow, it felt like.
Every thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, and his other hand between your thighs rubbing your puffy clit made you see stars.
You cried out for him, grasping onto whatever part you could reach to ground yourself. Bruce was fucking all of his frustration and tension into you, grunting on your ear, using the hand around your neck as leverage to pull you back down on his dick.
You couldn't keep track of how many orgasms he'd pulled out of you already, but you knew this wasn't the last one.
Tears of ecstasy pricked in the corners of your eyes and your head fell back against his strong shoulder, your bones melting into jelly.
"B-..Bruce, I can't-" You heaved, trying to get some oxygen in your lungs.
"Just one more for me, yeah, honey? I need this... I'll treat you so good after... please.." he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you clenched around him.
You were reduced to moans and mewls, trying to keep yourself from slipping away.
Your skin felt clammy and shiver ran through you when the tip of his cock ever so slightly nudged your cervix.
"God, yes.." Bruce moaned through clenched teeth.
His hand left your clit, a whine falling from your lips at the loss of stimulation.
His hand came down between your thighs, landing a slap on your bundle of nerves.
You squealed, your eyes widneding at the new sensation. It was a delicious mix of pleasure and twinge of pain that had your legs shaking.
"Oh shit... please do that again!" You begged through heavy breaths.
Bruce chuckled breathlessly, continuing to give your clit small slaps, grunting when your cunt constricted around him. Your nth orgasm was bubbling up in your belly, euphoria gnawing on your bones.
"I'm gonna-... fuck!" You mewled, your whole body convulsing as the coil in your stomach snapped, and you came around him.
A moan got caught in his throat, and with a few hard thrusts, Bruce spilled inside of you, filling your sore pussy with his cum.
He slacked against the bed, taking you with him.
Rolling you over so you were comfortably resting on your side, he wrapped his arms around you and littered sweet kisses all over your shoulder and neck.
"I'm sorry, baby... I needed to get it out. I love you." He murmured into your skin, making you let out a sleepy giggle.
"I'd love a bath..." you mumbled, your face pressed halfway into a pillow.
"Whatever you want, my love."
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
I know it's short, I'm sorry 😭
More of my works -> 💫
《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog
Lmk if you want to be added/removed 😚🩷
DC taglist is currently Bale!Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and Dick Grayson.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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imtryingbuck · 4 months ago
Text
Choices
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. past Bucky x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers
Summary: Steve’s in a relationship with reader and Bucky and goes back to Peggy when he comes back he regrets it
Word count: 1,963
Warnings: angst. stupid Steve. pregnancy. fluff. swearing.
Masterlist
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Walking into the wooden area that Bruce had the portal set up for Steve to take back the stones, hand in hand with both Bucky and Steve you noticed the brunette giving glances to the blonde to your left, when you gave him a questioning look he just smiled. A smile that looked forced and didn’t reach his eyes.
You should have realised something was wrong when Bucky whispered in your ear to go and talk to Sam whilst he spoke to Steve, you should have noticed the hushed argument between your two boyfriends but you were distracted by Bruce’s explanation of the portal and Sam’s million questions.
You should have realised something was wrong when Steve kissed you deeply or when Bucky only gave him a quick kiss before stepping back to be behind you instead.
Or that his last words before he disappeared back into the past was ‘I love you’ to you and your other boyfriend.
“Bruce where is he?” You asked nervously as he hadn’t returned.
“I-I‘m not sure”
Looking at Bucky who refused to look at you, finding the twig he was kicking lightly with his foot more interesting. “Buck? Bucky where is he?”
“I-Y/n/n-“
“Bucky”
At Sam’s voice you both turned to face where your closest friend was looking, on a stone bench sat an old man that was most definitely not there to begin with. Sam slowly walked over to the man leaving his friends behind.
“He’s gone back…back to Peggy”
“N-no-no he wouldn’t! James…he-he wouldn’t do that!”
“Baby he’s already done it, I’m so sorry” he hates the way your eyes filled with tears and the way you clutched at your chest.
“B-but why? Did I do something wrong? Was I not good enough for him? It’s my fault Buck, it’s my fault he went back to her and left you”
“God no baby! Baby he didn’t leave because of you I promise you that, I-I don’t know why he left us but we’re not alone we still have each other, right?”
“W-what? You still want to be with me now that St-he’s left”
“Of course I do, I love you just as much as I love him”
“I love you Bucky”
Though you meant every possible meaning of those words you couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for Steve abandoning the brunette in front of you, the same one he fought so hard to save, protect and defended. Steve cried in your arms when he confessed he had feelings not only for you but his longest friend, he was so confused and ashamed, not of his sexuality but at the fact that he was in love with two people at the same time. When you whispered to him that you had fallen for both super soldiers he blushed and gave you the most shyest smile you had ever seen. And unknown to the pair of you, the other missing piece of your hearts was standing outside of Steve’s office. Bucky’s heart soared when he heard his two loves saying that they loved him back.
It took a few weeks after the confessions before you three started dating, none of your friends-family was bothered as long as you were all happy. 
And yes even though Steve hadn’t left Bucky behind in a world where he was still learning how to operate in on his own because he had you and of course Sam but it still upset you, he left the pair of you for some woman who he kissed once, some woman who had moved on with her life - marriage and all, the same woman who had a niece that he kissed a few times. It made no sense to you.
“Baby…Y/n-“
“I need to talk to him, I need to understand why he left us for a woman who told him to move on and be happy, she told him that Buck! I was right there when she said it!”
“I know doll but-shit”
You were already out of his grasp and was walking over to Sam and the old version of your former boyfriend, your feet faltering when you saw Steve handing the shield over to Sam. Shaking your head you stood next to Sam, eyes slanting as you got a proper look at Steve.
“Y/n/n-“
“Are you happy?”
“What?”
“Did she make you happy? Did you have a great life? Did you even think about me and Bucky?”
“Of course I thought about you and Buck, doll you both mean the world to me”
“Did she make you happy?” You repeated the same question.
“Yes” he answered hesitantly with his eyes closed.
“Did you have a great life?”
“Doll-“
“Did you Steven, yes or no?”
He hesitated once again before answering “yes”.
“Good. Good. Well goodbye Steven” 
“Y/n-“ Steve tries to stop you from backing away by reaching out for your hand, with a shake of your head you move away and walk towards Bucky who took your hand in his as soon as you reached him.
Heading back to the home you three once shared not knowing how empty the place was going to feel now it was just the two of you.
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The bed felt bigger and colder now that Steve wasn’t cuddled up on the right side of the bed - his side. Every night without fail you three would lay in bed all snuggled up and one by one you said ‘I love you’ Bucky always went first, then you and then Steve but now that he wasn’t lying next to you, you both waited with bated breath for his response which never came.
You found yourself calling out for Steve whenever you heard the front door open and close, only to find Bucky standing there with a frown etched on his face. He was the same though, one day he walked into the kitchen where you were, saying “Stevie, remind me to pick up milk. Steve-shit. Y/n I’m sorry”.
Of course neither one could blame each other, Steve had been a huge part of your day to day life. You both understood that this new life of yours would take time to get used to.
Since he had left you both for Peggy you both started questioning yourselves, wondering if the other was going to leave next. Not that you told each other your worries and doubts, terrified of coming across as needy, insecure. Beyond terrified of thinking that the other would only stay because you had mentioned it.
As the months went by and the seasons changed so had you and Bucky.
Three months after Steve had left, you had settled down in to bed waiting patiently for Bucky to finish his nightly routine, you frowned lightly when you didn’t hear any noise or movements coming from the joint bathroom.
“Buck? Have you fell asleep on the toilet…again? Bucky?” There wasn’t even a grumble of a response, not like last time when he had gone into the bathroom to do his nightly routine and Steve ended up going to check on him, the blonde bit his lip to stop himself from laughing he went back into the bed room to get Y/n, going back into the bathroom together they saw Bucky in his pjs sitting on the toilet fast asleep. It was lucky that Steve also had the serum because he was able to carry Bucky to bed.
Getting out of bed you went to check on him, frowning when you saw him standing in front of the mirror holding something in his hands. “Buck?”
“I-I found this” this being Steve’s razor. “I-he left us Y/n/n”
“I know bub, I know.” Your heart ached when he turned to face you with tears in his eyes. Seeing Bucky cry was something that always tugged painfully at your heart, he had gone through so much pain in his long life it wasn’t fair for him to be still going through it all because Steve decided he wanted a fantasy instead.
“I-it isn’t fair baby”
Finally getting Bucky to put the razor down after twenty minutes of trying, you managed to get him into bed, he clung to your body tightly whispering how much he loves you. He fell asleep hearing your voice softly telling him how much he means to you, how much love you have for him.
You decided it was time to move out of the apartment and find somewhere new to call home after that night. It wasn’t long until you both found a forever home. Plus you needed to find a bigger place as you had found out that you were pregnant two weeks prior.
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For five years you and Bucky lived in the perfect haven, a four bedroom cottage with a few acres of land behind it that Bucky absolutely loved tending to. Bucky had built his own greenhouse with the help from Sam, he was so proud of everything he had grew in there ranging from cucumbers to tomatoes to potatoes and everything in between, the chillies however weren’t turning out like he wanted which made him a little defeated.
He loved his greenhouse. It became his happy place.
Whilst you and Bucky were getting your four year old twins sons and one year old daughter ready for a fun day of activities Sam was standing at his front door staring at someone who he thought he would never see again.
“What are you doing here?”
“Are Y/n and Bucky here?”
“No. Again what are you doing here?”
“W-where are they?”
“Steve, what are you doing back?”
Sighing, looking down whilst placing his hands on his hips “I made a mistake okay, I went to our apartment and someone else answered told me that they had been living there for four years, so I came here”
“Why? You can’t really expect to leave your partners whilst living a fantasy just to come back five years later.”
“It was a mistake, I miss them, it’s them I love”
“But you didn’t love them enough to stay, right?” Sam retorts, wanting to laugh at the man who didn’t just abandon his partners he claims to love but also him.
“I-I made a mistake okay Sam! Just tell me where they are so I can explain to them”
“I don’t think thats a good idea”
“Why not?” The blond snapped.
“Because they’ve moved on from you Steve, they moved on.”
“B-but I can make it right between us, please Sam”
“You can’t just show up and-“
“Please Sam!”
“Fine, but just remember that I did tell you that they’ve moved on.” Sam told him the address and slammed the door in the man’s face, rushing to grab his phone to ring his friends.
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The car pulled to a slow stop outside the gate, checking the number on the mailbox he got out of the car he had “borrowed”. His heart twitched at hearing children’s laughter ringing out in the summer evening, walking up the driveway his heart dropped at the scene in front of him.
Due to both Bucky and your phones being inside neither one received the many miss calls or messages from Sam to warn you both about the man who broke both of your hearts was on his way to yours, you didn’t know that he was standing at the side of the house watching you and Bucky playing happily with your children.
Steve smiled sadly seeing what he had missed out on for a fantasy like Sam had said. Slowly walking back to the car a few stray tears fell from his eyes.
He only had himself to blame for his heart aching the way it did by making the worst choice of his life.
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama
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hanasnx · 11 months ago
Note
bruce trying to explain to dick and jason that the young woman they saw in the manor is his 19 yo situationship !!
PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+
BRUCE WAYNE cuffs his last link, and straightens out the sleeve of his dress shirt.
"I'm not sneaking around." JASON TODD insists, as if it should be obvious and he's disgusted Bruce would imply such a thing. A resentful smile replaces it as he claps a harsh hand on the back of DICK GRAYSON. "Birdie here was just helping me out, he told me you'd be gone by now. Didn't know you kept my copy." He raises the book into view and wiggles it.
"Of course, I would. It has all your annotations." Bruce replies calmly, and Jason's expression drops subtly. Bruce approaches you and adjusts the blanket you held so you'd be more covered up. "Why don't you go freshen up? The car's waiting." Your cheeks heat even more than before, you're sure he can see the color bloom on them and spread to your forehead. He's not the least bit interested in your nightgown that the boys commented on, instead keeping warm and rough hands on your shoulders protectively.
"Hold on a sec', who is this?" Jason has the need to be combative, especially after the flash of vulnerability he displayed. He gestures to you with the book. "Getting younger every year, aren't they, Bruce?" A wolfish grin spreads onto his lips, his canines glinting in the firelight and you frown at his rude implications, talking about you like you're not even there.
"She's my date for tonight." Bruce replies coolly, and you glance between them, puzzled over how he keeps such a level head around someone intent to get under his skin. You were alone five minutes with Jason and he'd managed to annoy you. Bruce somehow senses your unease, and meets your gaze, a soft glow in his eyes.
"Yeah, Bruce, I'm with Jason here. She looks younger than us." Dick has joined in on the conversation that apparently does not include you. "Are you sure that's the kind of statement you wanna make?"
"This conversation is over." A harder tone takes root within Bruce's voice as he commands, and you've had enough.
"Hello? Why are you all talking like I'm not here?" you demand, looking between their expressions of varying shock. "I'm the Ice Princess of Gotham, goddamnit, I won't be ignored!"
A snicker breaks out from Jason, who pats Dick's arm with the back of his hand. "Damn, the kindergartner's got a mouth on her." Dick does not engage in the banter, batting Jason's hand away with a scolding, "Jason."
"I'm tired of this!" you declare, and bunch up the blanket, rolling it up and tearing at it with your claws before throwing it to the ground. "I hope you have fun going to whatever-it-is by your-self, Bruce. I'm going to spend my time with people more civilized." you hiss, proudly sticking your nose in the air as you go to the exit.
"Tell 'em, baby! You go, girl!" Jason jeers after you, "A little more ass next time, that nightgown's too long."
Dick has the urge to shove Jason into the fire, but now that they're adults it's not as feasible as when they grew up around each other. "You're a piece of shit, you know that?" he tells him, but it's more or less tired.
Jason side-eyes him with a shrug. "I knew she couldn't handle it. I'm a tough pill to swallow, and a little princess like that needed some humbling."
"Who says? Jesus, Jason, you think everyone needs to be taken down a peg."
"So, Bruce, what were you celebrating tonight? Her sweet sixteen?" That grin stretches back onto Jason's countenance as he interrogates his former mentor. "Finally sick of pussy your age?"
"She was a distraction." Bruce answers, passing through the two boys. All of the polite inhibition from before is lowered, the playboy veil gone now that you've left the room. All that's left now is Batman, and he opens the window. Dick and Jason's eye follow his back as the cold night air hits them. "Penguin and Batman are at odds, and if Bruce Wayne is the center of controversy, the tabloids don't even notice the dealings of a vigilante." He watches you enter a cab in a huff, your longcoat thrown over your nightgown and heels, and drive off. He turns to Jason, and tips his head toward the open window. "I'm assuming this is how you got in, so out you go."
"This is the fourth story, Bruce."
"So you'll have no trouble."
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