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bia-wayne-west · 3 months

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Damian is going to have a little sister [Damian Wayne x Pregnant! Batmom]

Summary: You take a pregnancy test and find out you are pregnant. You will have a little girl. Bruce, Alfred and their other three children are happy, except Demian. Your fourth baby is jealous of the new member of the family.

Personagens: Bruce Wayne [Batman], Damian Wayne [Robin], Dick Grayson [Nightwing], Jason Todd [Red hood], Tim Drake [Red Robin] and Reader [You]

Word count: 1,366

Warnings: jealousy, fear of abandonment and pregnancy.

A / N: Hi. I planned this fanfiction months ago, but I only had time to write today. I always imagined what it would be like if Batmom got pregnant. Demian would probably be jealous and wouldn't admit it. So, I decided to write about it.

I hope you like the imagine

Remember that I am a Brazilian girl. I am not fluent in English and I am still learning. I apologize if I have any errors. Feel free to correct me.

Go and read my other stories on my MASTERLIST.

REQUEST ARE OPEN. Do not be shy. Ask as many imagines as you want.

The test in your hands had two blue lines and your face had a huge smile. You had some suspicions, but you never imagined that after eight years of marriage, you would have a baby in your womb.

You thought you must be sterile because you had never been pregnant before, and even though the doctors said you were healthy, you didn't believe them. The test in your hand was proof that you were going to have five babies now.

You left the bathroom, putting the test in your pants pocket. The first person you saw when you left the master suite was Alfred. He will just come out of one of the guest rooms.

You ran to the butler you considered your second father. Alfred looked at you, thinking you were going to ask for something.

“Alfred, I'm pregnant!” You said it quickly, not having the courage to repeat it. The old man in front of you looked at you with wide eyes. After five seconds, he smiled at you.

It was difficult to make Alfred smile. He always maintained his serious appearance.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne. It’s great news.” Alfred said.

You showed the butler the pregnancy test. He congratulated her again and left, with the excuse that he had to clean Timothy's room. You could see a big smile on Alfred's face as he walked down the stairs to the second floor.

You remembered that Bruce was on the Wayne Enterprise, running some errands and that he wouldn't be back until after 8pm. Dick and Jason went to Wally West's house to play basketball. Timothy was at school.

Demian was the only one at home. He was probably in his room or in the garden with Titus.

You walked to the room that had the 'Do Not Enter' sign. You knocked on the door a few times, hearing your son's voice telling you that you could come in.

“Hi, my love.” You said to Damian, who was playing videogame. He was sitting on the bed. The boy smiled at you.

"Hi mommy. Did something happen?" He questioned, his eyes anxious.

You sat on the bed too, watching your son continue to play his game, but he was paying attention to you. .

“I have something new to tell you. I found out today, so only you and Alfred know about it.” You said, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the pregnancy test to show Damian.

The boy looked at the object curiously, until he realized what it really was. He looked at you in amazement, as if he thought it was just a joke.

"You are pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yes." After you nodded, you saw him give you a sad smile.

“I think this is amazing news, Mom,” Damian said. He no longer looked you in the eye, focusing his attention on the television while he played.

"Are you okay, darling?" You questioned, moving closer to Damian.

The boy just nodded, and didn't look at you anymore. Then, you realized that he didn't like the news, and preferred to leave him alone. You knew Damian didn't like expressing his feelings.

"If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen" You said, leaving your son's room and walking down the hallway.

As soon as Bruce arrived and you told him you were pregnant, he had the best reaction possible. Your husband was extremely happy and excited. And Dick, Jason and Tim also loved having a new little brother.

The weeks passed very quickly, and soon became months, and suddenly, you were seven months pregnant. You had already done all the ultrasounds and discovered that you were having your first daughter. You were excited to have a little princess, and Jason and Dick started teasing Bruce about how he really was a girl's daddy.

Everyone in your family seemed to be happy, except Damian. He never said out loud that he hated the baby, but you could see that he stopped wanting to spend time with you. The boy spent more time in his room or in the Batcave, avoiding being close to you. Bruce said the boy would accept that he would have a sister after the baby was born, but you knew you had to have a talk with Damian.

You walked slowly down to the clock that hid the entrance to the Batcave. It was difficult to walk with swollen feet. You knew that Bruce was on patrol, but that he left Damian on the Batcomputer. As soon as you got out of the elevator, you saw your son look at you, but quickly turn away. You walked over to Damian, giving him a gentle smile. The boy didn't look at you again.

"Hello, my dear." You said.

He didn't answer you, and started pretending to type on the keyboard.

"I wanted to talk to you a little."

Damian just grumbled.

"I know you're sad about my pregnancy." You said. "But you know that in two months there will be a baby here."

He continued ignoring you.

"If it's because of your father, you know Bruce loves all his children equally." You commented. "And that no baby in this world will make your father love you less."

Damian finally turned around, looking at you. He had red eyes, looking like he was going to cry.

"It's not about my father." He said. "Is you!" He exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"You know!" He roared. "You were the first person who liked me, even though you knew I was Bruce's biological son and that I was conceived when he was drugged by Talia." Damian continued speaking. "And now, you will have your own daughter. Who has your blood and Bruce's"

You looked at him, surprised.

"Are you afraid I'm going to leave you aside?" You wanted to know.

"My brothers don't seem to see what's going to happen. That you and Bruce are going to love the baby more than we do." He started to cry. "I love you and my dad, and I know that now you will have your own family."

You said, walking over to your son. You held him by the shoulders, making him face you.

"Damian, that will never happen!" You exclaimed. "You, Dick, Jason and Tim never stopped being my kids, my little birds."

He looked away, looking embarrassed.

"I thought you wouldn't treat me like your son anymore" He said.

"It's normal for you to be jealous and afraid of losing all the attention you receive, but I want you to know that our relationship will never change." You commented. "Now that the problem has been resolved, do you want to go upstairs so we can make some cupcakes together?"

Damian quickly got up from the chair he was in, and threw himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. He placed his head on your chest, and surprisingly, you felt him caressing your belly for the first time. You lowered your head to look at your son, smiling at him.

"Yes, I want to go make cupcakes, Mommy." He said, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe his tear-stained face.

You and Damian went up to the house, leaving the Batcave. He started talking to you again, saying that he had had a brief fight with Jon Kent, but that they had already made up. He also told you that he was doing a literature project for school in a group, and that it was very easy.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen, you grabbed all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and started mixing the cupcake batter, while Damian mixed the frosting. He told you that he wanted to color the cupcakes green and red, so you grabbed the food coloring from the pantry, letting him make the frosting any color he wanted.

Once the more than twenty cupcakes were ready, you and Damian sat on the counter while eating, talking excitedly about how the last few months had been when Damian had avoided you.

"Mother?" He caught your attention. "It'll be good to be a big brother."

You gave him a huge smile, and then kissed your son's cheek.

#imagine #insert reader #fanfiction #fluffy #fic #cute #you #dc comics #dc #batman #batkids #damian wayne #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batkids x reader #batkids x batmom #you x batman

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lycheeloving · 3 months

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yandere!Bruce tries to keep you away from his vigilante life "for your own good", but you disagree <3

#the fake text website fucked up my formatting ✌️😔 might try to fix that later #update: used a different website and fixed the formatting 👍#yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere!batfamily #batfam x reader #yandere batfam #reader insert #yandere #x reader #lycheewritings #platonic yandere #yandere bruce wayne #yandere texting

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not-another-robin · 3 months

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Edit o'clock...

#narsposting #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #mighty mouse #self insert #dc oc

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waynewifey · 9 months

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aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

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empresskylo · 2 years

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It's Raining Vengeance - Ch. 6

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman x Female!Reader Series Summary: (Based on The Batman 2022) It happened a while ago: the day you stumbled into the batman. And ever since, he seemed to pop up exactly when you needed him. You thought it was stupid to try and be his friend. He thought it was dangerous to let you in. Both of you did it anyway. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.5k+ Note: this chapter is… ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) #smut

series masterlist | main masterlist | AO3

Bruce tossed and turned all night, barely getting any sleep. This was a regular occurrence, he never had a refreshing night's sleep. And with his thoughts tied up with you and the fundraiser, he struggled more than usual.

At around 4:30 am he figured he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep again so he decided to get up. It was early, the sun wasn’t even out yet; he was up before Alfred, even.

He hadn’t cleaned up like Alfred told him to last night, instead, he crashed into his bed still sweaty and with his face covered in makeup.

If Bruce Wayne was to make a rare appearance today, he’d have to shower.

He sulked to his bathroom, all the window blinds shut tight as he walked in the dark.

He had really messed up this time. His fists clenched together as he replayed the night with you back in his head.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he act fucking normal?

He pictured that moment where your lips almost touched his. He had wanted to crash his to yours so badly, but even being socially deranged, he knew kissing someone who didn’t feel that way about you was wrong. And he didn’t want to completely ruin his chances of winning your friendship back.

He slid off his clothes, eyeing the scars along his chest in the mirror, and sighed. He stepped into the hot shower and soaked his body.

His mind fell back to when you had your arms tightly wrapped around him as he sped through the city. He had never wanted someone so close to him before. It was strange, but he almost felt at peace when you clung to him.

When he had carried you back to your apartment the night you had stumbled into a group of mobsters, his arms slid under your thigh and waist like he was always meant to hold you like that. He remembered how his hands were burning through his gloves, his mind racing on how he was cradling you, pulling your body against his.

He felt himself begin to grow aroused in the shower.

Then he remembered how you had begun to strip out of your wet clothes, forgetting he was there. It was understandable, the way he crept silently through the shadows made it hard for anyone to know when he was near. He had watched the curve of your body and you pushed your pants off, giving him just a slight glimpse of your black underwear.

Ashamed, he reached down and gripped his growing erection.

You laid back on your couch, your damp hair sprawled against your shoulders, your shirt hiking up to reveal your thighs. He had watched as you tenderly glided your fingers down your calf to feel the bruises that were forming.

Bruce wondered what it would feel like to run his hands up your leg. To let his hands linger on your thighs, squeezing them.

He hadn’t even realized he began to stroke himself until he felt himself grunting in his throat.

He remembered how you had tried to hit him, and the way he effortlessly caught your wrist. What would it be like to trap your wrists above your head, placing kisses on your neck, feeling you squirm beneath him?

His hand leaned out against the shower wall, his eyes pressing shut.

He pictured you in that skimpy outfit, the way your legs looked in those heels. He heard your laugh play in his head.

His hand began to move faster.

All the times you had been caught in his gaze as he stood in silence while you waited for his reply. How he almost felt like he couldn’t speak as he watched you.

He thought about the time when you first met and the way he towered over you. You hadn’t run. You weren’t afraid.

He remembered how he felt when he first studied your shadowed face on that roof, the wind rushing through your hair, leaving a sweet scent of lavender in his nose. The way your pink lips were slightly parted in shock at his appearance. He imagined how they might look after roughly kissing you, plump and swollen.

A moan fell out of Bruce’s mouth, his breathing heavy and unsteady.

He wondered what it would feel like to lay on top of you with your hardened nipples pressed against him. How you might moan beneath him.

What it would feel like to be inside you.

“Y/N”, Bruce breathed out. He climaxed, grunting loudly as he kept stroking himself to extend the high. His mouth hung open as he groaned, imagining you moaning along with him as he made you orgasm.

His breathing was loud as he came down. His head hung low, the water pounding against his neck and back.

This wasn’t what friends were supposed to do. You weren’t supposed to think of your friends like that. You weren’t supposed to picture them while you jerk off.

And yet he just did. Just as he’s done many nights before this.

Bruce opened his eyes, the pictures of you flooding out of his mind.

–

You laid in your dark bedroom, eyes staring at the ceiling. You knew you’d forgive Bruce—I mean, you already had. You were fighting against what you knew was wrong and right. You knew you should feel violated by him watching you, so why didn’t you? Why did it make you start to heat up when he had told you? The way his voice was dark and low as he questioned you about the strange man. Was he jealous?

You felt your hand glide down to your panties in a sinful act.

Friends don’t stalk friends to check upon them. No, they come to knock on their door or shoot them a text.

It scared you, the way you began to think about Batman. You hadn’t even seen his full-face or his body under the armor, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You closed your eyes.

He was a bit odd in the way he interacted with you. When he was fighting crime, he was strong and confident. But when it came to having a conversation, he faltered. It made you blush to think about how he might actually be a shy person out of the suit.

You picture his lips from earlier, the way they were slightly parted and so close to yours. You could feel his warm breath against your face. You wanted to kiss him. Wished he had closed the gap. But you knew he couldn’t feel the same. You were just some journalist who kept getting in his way. And he was The Batman!

You imagined yourself reaching out to touch his jaw, feeling his stubble against your fingertips.

You began rubbing circles over your underwear.

How he might grunt like he always does at your touch. You imagined running your hand down his bodied suit, wanting to feel the goosebumps against his skin. And how he’d watch you so intently as you did, his glare sending shivers down your spine.

You snaked your hand underneath your underwear now, sliding your finger between your folds.

And if he kissed you, you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your moan. The way he’d overpower you so easily, pushing you hard against that brick wall.

You wondered what it might be like to torture him, to have that kind of power over him, just the sight of your exposed skin making him go feral.

Oh, how a muscular brute like him must be in bed.

You slid a finger inside of yourself, your heat already dripping wet.

You wanted him. Wanted him on top of you. Inside of you. Wanted him to fuck you so hard that you lost your breath.

You pumped your fingers in and out, rocking your hips forward as you did.

You imagined his lips around your swollen nipple, gently sucking and biting. His other hand sliding up to grab your breast, his throat audibly groaning as he did.

You moaned into your silent room, your hand sliding up to squeeze your breast over your t-shirt.

What if he was a gentle lover, making you look up at him as he pleasured you.

But then you imagined what it would be like if he flipped you over without warning, making you take him as he slammed you into your mattress. You wanted to know what his voice sounded like as he told you how much he had been wanting this. You’d beg and plead for him to let you come. His hand sliding to your clit to help you reach your high.

Your fingers moved faster, imagining they were his, and he’d curl them inside you, your juices soaking his hand.

You came as your hips rocked up against your hand, your breath getting lost in your throat. Your free hand gripped your sheets, your head flying back in pleasure.

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh reality of his absence hitting you.

He’d never feel that way about you.

Not with the way he looked; tall, muscular, intimidating. He probably had tons of girls clawing at him. So why would he bother with you?

Ch. 7

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kimjun · 11 months

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Y/N: We need to get through this locked door. Bruce, give me your credit card.

Bruce: Here.

Y/N, pocketing it: Thanks. Jason kick down the door.

#reader insert #x reader #incorrect quotes #dc x y/n #jason todd x reader #dcu #dick grayson #bruce wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne #dc incorrect quotes #jason todd x y/n #jason x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #dick grayson x reader #batfamily #batfam x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian x reader

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nouearth · 9 months

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an internship at wayne interprises.

bruce wayne x m!reader headcanons.

part ii.

warnings: smut, perverted!bruce, short!male reader, shy!male reader, blowjob (reader giving), slight dubcon (?).

notes: i had bale!bruce in mind only because he looks so... good in a suit (and without one).

—to the surprise of his employees, bruce had become more present in his meetings since you started interning at wayne enterprises. previously, his inputs were typically made over phone calls, then finalized by lucius fox.

—but upon seeing you for the first time, he became smitten rather quickly.

—every day, you stood in the corner, clearly nervous and intimidated by the group of businessmen and women as they debated over decisions you couldn’t care less about. but you were always attentive, efficient in your answers on days where they happened to value your input.

—and on those days, bruce would watch the way you shift on your weight onto either sides of your feet, out of nervousness, but also because your feet ached. he would make a mental note to bring—no—demand a chair for you next time.

—then, he would find himself fixated on the most intricate details of you. the way you took in the lower lip with a small bite and licked them when you interacted with a businessman, a sign of intimidation bruce would decipher. it made his heart beat faster, watching you become so flushed at the simplest socialization.

—he wonders if he could have such of an effect on you. bruce never had a chance to introduce himself to you properly because lucius would always send you out to make some phone calls and arrange another meeting.

—it was extremely annoying, but at least he could admire the way your ass fit in those pants on your way out.

—bruce would shamefully touch himself to that brisk image under the conference table.

—you were like a piece of art under him. he would study you in silence, noting how you would look up at everyone because you were the shortest man in the room, even with insoles in your shoes. and those eyes—frightened and inexperienced—it became one of bruce’s favorite features about you.

—a sick part of him delighted in how timid you were, and he would imagine what it would be like if it was just you and him—alone.

—would you have bitten your lip like that? maybe even harder—until it drew blood—because he was the owner of wayne enterprises? how frightened would you be when bruce towered over you? even more so when he demanded for you to get on your knees and-

—it was inappropriate, bruce would guilt himself. an employee, let alone one that recently graduated university, it was unthinkable to even imagine himself with you.

—he tried to convince himself that he simply found you handsome, that was all to it. a fleeting crush.

—but overnight, you’ve become a perpetual thought.

—it became a routine for bruce to awaken in the middle of the night with an erection. and if he wasn’t stirred awake, he was kept up all night with—you guessed it—an erection.

—on the first night of many, bruce would visit your instagram, and he would then thank the lord for having your account public. you were never an outgoing person, so all you did was post your hobbies.

—and while he would love to learn more about your personality through your feed, what was more important was the situation in his briefs—tightening the more he thought about you, looked at you.

—luckily, your most recent post included a selfie, so he didn’t have to scroll very far one-handed.

—what bruce found endearing was that he could still pick apart your quiet personality from your smile—still timid and inexperienced, like how he met you—and he fondled himself to that.

—bruce would massage himself through his briefs, groping a handful of his bulge as he grew harder in his palm, gazing deep into those eyes he yearned to look into.

—your lips were parted in the photo, only by a bit, and he would imagine how they would look around his cock, specifically the head. upon examining the photo closer, a peek of your tongue could be seen, and bruce’s erection would throb.

—how would your tongue feel? would you be daring enough to even tease him with licks?

—and in that moment, he would wonder if you’ve ever done anything like that before.

—he remembered the way you interacted with people, especially with men. you would always avoid eye contact, stumble on your words when you were called upon—he concluded that you were completely inexperienced.

—and that drove him wilder.

—by then, bruce has completely stripped himself. no longer was he palming his thick cock, but stroking himself to your photo. it was shameful, bruce would admit—the lengths he would go through for arousal. but he couldn’t help it. the thought of you, completely innocent and bare before him, was a recurring image that would ink into his brain.

—he liked to imagine that you only touched your cock, because you were scared of touching yourself elsewhere. you had a dildo somewhere under your bed, but it was only used once because you were intimidated, just like how you were intimidated by the men in office earlier today—akin to a deer in headlights.

—not only that, you were intimidated by your greed. people have always said that bigger was better, right? though, you couldn’t have possibly agreed because a mere centimeter of the large phallic toy made you quit with a whimper.

—the stories in his head would run absolutely feral, and vulgar lust would quickly overcome the feeling of guilt.

—cock whore, bruce would go on to muttering himself, slapping his thick, sticky cock on the screen of his phone, specifically on your cheek and lips—a pathetic simulation of what it would look like to have his dick on you. his pre-cum would stain your cheeks, and the heavy weight of his cock and balls would part your mouth open wider than it was in the photo.

—bruce would want to make one out of you—a cock whore. though only his, because he never liked sharing. he would relish in the thought of you on your knees, looking up at him and batting your faint eyelashes as you were overwhelmed at the sheer size of his cock.

—you would be hesitant, doubtful that you could even take him in your mouth. but you would muster up the courage, comforted by bruce’s support, and do so anyways—clumsily and sloppily as his cock would push drool out of your untrained mouth.

—that’s it, fuck…

—in reality, bruce would start you off slow, gentle cascading strokes to your head as he would settle his palm to the back of it and guide you with gentle pushes and tugs.

—but in bruce’s fictional scenario, he would show no mercy.

—intimidation, the fear in your eyes made him high when he would pull his cock out, swinging heavily before it would be shoved into your innocent mouth without warning, cramping reluctancy down your throat until you would then cough out a choke.

—see? just gotta work your pretty mouth open. nothing to be scared of, hm?

—god, you’re such a good boy. bruce would add onto his mutters as he kneeled on his bed, phone laid flat between his thighs as he jerked himself over your photo. it was just like he wanted—you looking up at him with those eyes. for a brief moment, they looked pleading, desperate for him to come on your face.

—how would you want it? bruce would wonder out loud, a familiar pool of pleasure bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he worked himself harder.

—would you want your first experience with another man’s cock to be concluded by throating down a rush of thick cum? or would you prefer him to paint your handsome face white, shooting all over you until you were dripping wet in warm stick.

—you would be indecisive, bruce expected it.

—so, bruce would take it upon himself to make the decision.

—bruce would hunch forward over the phone when the meter of his rapture filled to the very brim. one arm would be used to support his position as he fucked into his tight fist, desperate and crazed at the thought of you taking him and his cum.

—it wouldn’t be long until bruce would finally come all over his phone with a guttural moan, shooting thick ropes of cum all over your face until the screen had become a sheer blanket of sticky glue.

—face, it is.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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hanasnx · 27 days

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MINORS DNI 18+

BRUCE WAYNE leaves you sloppy. His unmatched endurance and stamina ensure your exhaustion, showing you exactly what a sex toy feels like. Manhandled into every position before your brain even had time to process where he wants you to go, those massive hands gripping your hair and your hip to yank you back onto his cock. It fills you up like no other, and pulls out your brains along with it. Sweaty, and panting hard, he leaves you in the mess on the bed. Your makeup is smeared and running, your hair a rat’s nest, and your pussy pulsing with the after effects of every cruel orgasm he drew from you. You’re sore and you’re positive you didn’t even do anything, a blur of buzzing pleasure and euphoria. Unable to think about anything else other than him and what he's just reduced you to. Some animal desperate for release, mewling and begging for him.

#ch: bruce #bruce wayne thought #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #reader insert

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raineydays411 · 9 months

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My Fathers' Daughter pt 13

Hello everyone! Can I just say thank you to everyone for the love and support! Thank you everyone for sticking by me while I took a break. Thank you everyone for the kind messages and ideas. I'm the type of person that needs positive reassurance so really, it's you guys that are the reason I returned to writing.

For the first time in months you felt at peace.

Ironically, it was when you were shoved in a stinky backseat of a dirty taxi. But you were in a stinky taxi with people you truly love.

And Dopinder.

But even he's better than being in that house right now. Anything truly is.

"Hey" A soft voice breaks your thoughts, you turn from where you're looking out the window.

Peter was gazing at you with concern in his eyes. He had his own reservations about coming to get you, that's why Wade had decided to kidnap him. But seeing you, practically throw yourself into him and cry?! He didn't need any more convincing than that.

One thing Y/n Stark does not do is let people see her cry.

"Are you okay?" He asks, knowing that you're not but he knows that you won't tell him if he doesn't ask.

You take a look into his eyes, seeing concern. Then from the corner of your eye you see Wade turn his head an inch, trying to subtly listen in without giving away the fact that he cares about you.

"I'm.." You pause, feeling a knot in your throat, " I'm just really craving a burger."

"What the dick?!" Wade screams from the front, startling all of you in the car, and causing Dopinder to swerve, " We came here for emotional support goddamn it, let us support your emotions!!"

You chuckle at the outburst, mood momentarily lifting, " You can support me by getting me something to eat outside this taxi. It reeks back here...no offense Dopi"

"Non taken Ms. Stark, I am well aware of the unpleasant scents in the back."

Dopinder makes a stop at what looks like a local burger joint in the city , allowing you and Peter to take a breath of fresh air.

Or at least as fresh as Gotham city air could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Manor, Christine and Bruce are having a long overdue conversation about you and her relationship.

" I just don't understand where everything went so wrong" Christine cried, face held in her hands," I just don't"

"Perhaps when you stopped visiting her when we adopted Dick" Bruce said in a semi sarcastic semi serious voice.

Christine shot a glare to her husband, " I'm glad you find the destruction of my relationship with my daughter funny Bruce, I really do."

Bruce sighs from where he's standing, " I don't find it amusing one bit, but Christine you have to admit this situation is your fault."

"I know it is! Believe me I know" Christine shouts, " These last few months, all I've been reminded is that it's my fault!"

"But where is your accountability?" Bruce asks, " I don't hold what you did against you because it's not my place. The kids don't because quite frankly, this hasn't affected them except for Cassie who thinks you're replacing her, and Damian, who sees you sad and believes Y/n is the sole cause of it."

Christine sighs, the few months you have been in the home, she has noticed Cassie's jealousy towards you and the resentment for the situation. She's done her best to reassure her that she has enough love for the two of you girls, but she still insisted on being as far away from you as possible. Damian...Damian is young and perceptive but difficult so she isn't so worried about him.

"If Y/n just spent time with them--"

"It isn't her responsibility to reassure your children that she isn't taking you away from them. Hell Christine, it isn't her responsibility to make anything easier for you." Bruce says impatiently, " I have been holding my tongue because you're my wife above anything and I am on your side. But being a husband and on your side means that I have a responsibility to tell you when you are wrong."

"Then tell me Bruce, tell me what I'm doing wrong. Please beacause every move I make, I just mess things up." Christine cries, genuienly asking for her husbands help

Bruce looks Christine in the eye, " Well first, you have to stop forcing your motherhood on that poor girl"

He holds a hand up before Christine can say anything, " I know that biologically you are her mother, but you know as well as I do that biological relation has no meaning."

Christine nods, allowing Bruce to continue

"The child you knew is not the young lady you want to get to know." Bruce says sternly, " She has life experiences that you were not a part of, and most of all she's not looking for a mother, Christine she has one. It's just not you."

Christine bursts into tears, the weight of that statement hitting her heart. Bruce gathers her in his arms.

"You need to get to know Y/n not as the child you left behind but as Y/n. That's what all of us need to do."

Christine weeps silently in her husbands chest, truly absorbing his words.

She knows he's right. He usually is.

But it hurts her. She truly has to acknowledge the one thing she has ever been ashamed about. The one thing that she has been repressing and repressing all these years.

That she abandoned you.

She abandoned you. She abandoned you when you were six and she didn't show up to the mothers day dance.

She abandoned you when you were eight and she promise dthat she would take you to get your ears pierced and she didn't show up because of a phone call.

And she abandoned you when you were nine, and she adopted Dick.

"What I don't think I understand is why?" Bruce asked quietly.

All these years, she said it was because she was needed more at the manor rather than in New York. But why did she really?

"Why?" Christine repeats quietly, " I..."

Why did she? What on earth possessed her to do the one thing she promised she'd never do the day you were born.

"I don't know." She says, " I.. spent years, hiding this huge secret from you. Years taking back and forth trips from here to New York, pretending she didn't exist or pretending like you didn't. I just..."

Bruce hums, urging her to continue

" And seeing the disappointment every time I left and didn't take her or disappointment from Tony that I didn't choose them. " She teared up, she hadn't even thought about the pain she put that man through, " Then it was the disappointment from Dick everytime I left. It got too.."

"Too hard." Bruce finished for Christine,

" Yeah," Christine sighed, " I just wanted to stop all the lying and the double lives, but by the time it became too much...it was too deep and I was scared I'd lose it all."

Bruce stayed quiet holding his wife, "I would've hoped that you had enough faith in me to tell me"

Christine scoffed, " Please, do you really believe that at that time you would've forgiven me? Before Damian?"

Bruce sighed, " I guess not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the conversation between Bruce and Christine went on, the kids were having one of their own.

"I don't understand what's so good about her anyway" Cass mumbles, " All she's done since she's been here is cause trouble"

"Yeah like any of us made Ma's life easy since we got here?" Jason spits back defending you, " Dick you didn't even talk to Ma because of your fight with Bruce, I died, Tim didn't even consider her a mother for years, Damian..is damian and hated her for months, plus is a product of Bruce cheating, and you Cass, you almost killed her before you became family."

Everyone stayed silent as Jason basically read them to filth.

"Why?" Damian asks quietly, " Why does everyone like that girl so much?"

"She's just had a hard go of it Damian, just like all of us." Dick said softly, " Think about how you felt when your mother stopped coming around. When you came here and didn't know anyone."

Damian stayed quiet.

"I know you love Mom, I do too" Dick continued, " But the hostility towards Y/n has to end. From all of us."

They stood quiet, letting the words sink in.

"I have been quite pleasant towards her actually" Jason said smugly

"Yeah cause you think with your dick and not your brain" Tim said smartly, only to receive a slap on the back of his head.

"That's my sister you fucking idiot" Jason says angrily.

Dick smiled, glad that at least one person was truly and genuinely on your side in this house, even if it's not him.

" How about we take her out?" Dick says, " Both her and Mom need some space, there's no point in her staying in that room all day and night."

Jason nods," Yeah, that's actually a good idea."

The two oldest sons rise, about to head to you room when Damian speaks up

"You won't find her there."

The boys pause and look at him

"What did you do to her you demon?" Jason says suspiciously

Damian rolls his eyes, " I've done nothing of the sort, but I saw her sneak out and leave in a taxi with an Indian man, a man in a red suit and unfortunate looking face, and a teenager in hello kitty sleeping pants."

Silence.

"Okay, if you're having a stroke please let me know so I can take you to the hospital." Tim said looking concerned.

Damian rolled his eyes again, " She left."

Jason was already barging into your room not even bothering to knock, seeing your room empty and the window open.

"Fuck."

Dick raced in after him seeing the empty room

"Well fuck."

They look at eachother, wondering who was going to tell their mother that you were gone but it was actually Damian that suggested

"Perhaps we should go after her? Mother and Father seemed rather preoccupied at the moment."

Jason looked at Dick and said, " She couldn't have gotten too far."

"Well, it has been a couple hours since she left." Damian adds

"Hours?!" Dick shouts, " Damian why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't like her." Damian rolls his eyes.

"Where's Y/n?" a voice asks

All heads turned to the doorway, seeing their father standing there.

"Um... about that."

"Find her, and you all better hope she's okay."

Everyone scrambled, either to put their suits on or to just make it out of the house.

He said that with his Batman voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back with you and the red team, as Wade took to calling you all, you all were eating burgers in the parking lot of the now closed burger joint.

" So are you going to tell us what happend or what?" Wade ask with food falling from his stuffed mouth.

You and Peter look on with disgust.

"What?" Wade asks, " Go on and tell us about your mommy issues."

You roll your eyes and look away, missing the look Peter gives to Wade for being to crass.

You get lost in thought, the argument still fresh on your mind.

It made you so angry.

Why? Why did she hide those emails?

The one thing you wanted most in this whole situation was to go home. You missed your father, your mother, the team. Your family.

Instead, she made you believe that your father just forgot about you and your family didn't miss you.

While you knew logically that was impossible, you still stood up late at night because of the doubts creeping in. You cried, longing to hear your father croon rock music while he was tinkering with something, or the soft voice of your mother as she handled some business. You missed the smell of the training room and the sound of Steve teasing whoever he chose to tourture train that day. You missed FRIDAY. The tech. Your life.

"What happened in there" Peter asked softly.

You maintain eye contact with him for about a second before looking away, feeling ashamed with your emotional state.

"I couldn't take it anymore" You said softly, "These people...they weren't... they weren't mean to me or anything but I didn't belong there."

You take a pause then continue, " It's like... I had no purpose there. You know? At home, I help dad with whatever he needs, I helped mom with the business, hell I could just take a step outside. But here? I'm either in my room or being snuck out by Jason for a few hours. I can't go into a room without killing the happy family vibe they have going on. I'm just..."

You choke up, the knot in your throat growing, "I'm just a reminder of the past. Of the life she didn't want."

Peter's eyes soften even more, he reached out a comforting hand.

"I have to be there, while she and her family are happy then I walk in and it's like I'm either a ghost or a pest." You cry tears falling from your eye, " I feel so unwanted. I've never felt this way in my life."

"Didn't your mom abandon you?" Wade asks, getting an elbow to the side by Dopinder.

That comment causes you to cry more, but before Peter can make a move Wade actually pulls you in a hug.

"Alright Alright" Wade says, " Look kid, obviously you're happy there, so how about we go find those asshole that are looking for you and take them out ourselves?"

You sniff and look up at him, " What?"

"Yeah. That's the whole reason you're here. So lets kill those motherfucker and you can go home and forget this shit hole of a city. Seriously it's disgusting here."

You chuckle wetly, " It is gross here. I thought New york was bad"

The four of you laugh, the mood finally lifting.

But good moments never last forever.

Peter's head jerks up, face shifting from amusement to concern

"Guys there's something wro-" Peter gets cut off.

"How about we make it easier for you, now you don't have to look for us." A voice says, you aren't able to see it before you feel Wades body jerk and suddenly there's a pain in your arm.

You look down and see a dart, and you're barely able to make out the blue and red dots on the building across the street before darkness consumes you and you hit the ground.

#marvel x reader #avengers x teen!reader #reader insert #marvel #dc comics x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #deadpool #wade wilson #peter parker #marvel comics #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader

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