#bruce wayne x reader
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mellotunekitty · 2 days ago
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hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with them messaging s/o or coming into their apartment late at night to come to bed and the boys are like “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” and s/o messages back or says after sort of wake up “I can sleep” and they fall back asleep 😂. When s/o does properly wake up hours later, s/o pulls their man in for morning cuddle, but then their mind starts working and they ask seriously, “… did you want to talk about something last night or was I dreaming it?” Or for messaging, s/o remembers and gives their boyfriend a call and is happy to be talking to them and they ask the same question over the phone “I thought I dreamt it, but I just noticed you message me and I sent that back… I was exhausted and in a deep sleep. Did you still want to talk?”? Basically s/o isn’t very good to interact with or function when they’re tired 😂? (It’s all good people staying up all night for their love of their life, but what about a s/o who’s never able too?. They fall asleep in bed and then are woken up by their boyfriend sneaking in. They frequently pass out after their boyfriend sneaks into their bed. S/o Hair a mess. “What?… oh… zzzz” would be how the boys identity probably stayed a secret for the longest time. Wouldn’t even notice the blurry mask and spandex suits in their tired state).
omg yes, as a sleepy person, i LOVE this idea!!!
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Batboys x Sleepy gn!reader
Bruce Wayne
Being home late meant low chances of having an actual conversation with you. He needed help setting up the gala for tomorrow and you guys were supposed to plan it tonight
“My love, wake up for a minute. We have to set the plans, remember.” 
You sat up for a moment, sitting next to him in bed to help him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long seeing as you almost immediately fell asleep on his shoulder. 
He just sighed and put his laptop away, figuring you guys could plan it later or just use what you had. 
It was a bit funny though, seeing you so out of it trying to stay awake and focus on the plans. 
“And I think we should serve lemonade with the… darling? Are you listening?” “Hm? Yeah…” 
Dick Grayson 
He usually came home to you sleeping after patrol, so he figured he’d have to wake you up if he wanted to discuss tomorrow's date plans.
“Babe? Hey, wake up, I gotta talk to you…” 
It works…for a few seconds. You woke up, but mumbled something incoherent before falling back asleep. 
Dick just chuckled and shrugged it off, figuring he could just talk to you in the morning. The date wasn’t until later anyway, and sleeping beside you seemed more appealing at the moment.
“It’s okay… I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” 
Jason Todd
Poor Jason couldn’t sleep at all. He tried everything from warm drinks to meditation, but nothing seemed to work. So, he called you. 
“Hey, y/n? Yeah, uhm… can I come over?” 
He got a half mumbled ‘yeah’ before heading over. Of course when he did, you were tucked in, all cute and sleepy. 
Jay slipped in next to you, snuggling against you and had the easiest time falling asleep. However, in the morning, you looked shocked, not remembering him coming in. 
“...when did you even get here?!” 
Tim Drake
It was always a 50/50 with Tim. Either he slept anytime, anywhere, or he couldn’t sleep at all. Tonight, he couldn’t sleep. So, he called you. 
“Hey, baby, I can’t sleep. Can we just uhh… talk for a while?” 
He got all warm and gushy when he heard your muffled little ‘yes’ from under your blankets. 
But he quickly realized you weren’t the best person to talk to when you were tired. You couldn’t hold a conversation at all and eventually, he found out that you sleep talk. It was a pleasant surprise to him.
“What are you saying now, hm?” “The banana… lost my hat.” “Oh, yeah, I bet.” 
Damian Wayne
The second you opened your eyes when he walked into the room as Robin, he thought he had completely blown his cover. Apparently, he didn’t. 
“Go back to bed… you don’t see anything.” 
He was shocked it actually worked, but he shouldn’t have been too surprised. He knew you’d take any and every opportunity to sleep. 
Damian hastily got out of his Robin suit and got into pajamas, sliding into bed next to you. It was a bit of a funny thought to him, the fact that you didn’t even question Robin being in your room… right? 
“I had a weird dream last night.” “About?” “I dreamt that Robin was in my room.”  
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weebumochi · 1 day ago
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THE ANTICIPATED PART TWOOOOOOO AND IT WAS AMAZINF U WRITE HIM ABSOLUTELY AMAZING HES SO SOFT AND ATTENTIVE AND SWEET AND AGHHH I WIDH HE WAS REAL ILY AND UR WORK SMMM
Sugar on the Rim vol. II
bruce wayne x afab!reader
aka the billionaires new friend
part one
warnings: heavily implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), smut, oral fem!receiving, nervous but enthusiastically consenting reader
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You’d tried to calm your nerves but they couldn’t be helped.
You’re anxious about everything, all of it. What he wants you to do, what he’s expecting you do, whether it’ll hurt, whether you’re ready.
You think you trust Bruce, but you also know that these things are different for men and women. You don’t necessarily expect that he’ll have a mind for what you’ll need, but honestly, neither do you. You don’t know what to do to make this easier for yourself—you don’t know what to do at all. 
You bought the lingerie, you’ve got it on under your clothes and it feels like a costume. You can’t tell if that aids or worsens the anxiety. 
You’re fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and you wish you could quit it, you’re radiating enough nervous energy as it is, you don’t need to be sending him visual cues on top of it. 
Bruce holds your free hand in his as he guides you through the manor, you think it’s a different section than you’ve seen before. His hand engulfs yours unfairly as he leads, but the touch of his skin is so warm and inviting that you can’t tell if your hand is still shaking under it. If it is, he pretends not to notice.
He guides you up the stairs and into a corridor and then another before you arrive at a set of double doors. You’ve never seen double doors on the inside of a house before.
He lets you in ahead of him, and you have a distinct thought that you’re glad he can’t see the look of awe on your face as you walk in. His bedroom has an entire living room inside of it, and altogether it’s bigger than your whole apartment. A maroon couch and matching chairs surround a grand fireplace at the front of the room and the resulting glow from the active embers has the area shrouded in a warm light ahead of the shadows filling the rest.
You glance past the seating at his bed; large and proud. It’s definitely bigger than a king sized, with an overhead canopy and streams of dark burgundy curtains draping down from the corners. There’s another set of closed double doors past the bed, you imagine leading to the bathroom.
The end of the room displays a large window seat that looks like it’s never been used, and vast tinted windows. You look up to find the ceiling higher than you’ve ever seen in a bedroom with a very expensive chandelier hanging over it all.
He takes your arm, steering you out of your wonderment and leads you towards the couch rather than the bed, gesturing for you to sit down with him. You do, quietly glad when he positions himself so that you’re close to each other but not pressed right up against you. He’s able to relax his body more than you’re able to fake it on yourself, and you think your thoughts must be vibrating out of you by now.    
One hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other nudges your cheek towards him. “Hey, nothing’s happening right now. No need to be nervous.”
You nod blankly, but your thoughts are running wild with everything that you very much are nervous about.
He takes your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb. 
“You’ve got to relax,” he coos, “Remember what I said?”
You take a breath, “You’re not going to throw me in the deep end.”
“Exactly,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Just wanna make you feel good, right?”
You nod, easing your posture.
He looks you in the eye, “You gonna let me?”
You hum, nodding again.
“Good girl,” he purrs, pulling away.
You quickly find that the distance is not at all what you want, and you decide to push forward—as forward as you can—sitting up again to peel your jacket off. He watches you move with a look in his eyes, you take it for intrigue but it may just as well be something akin to pride. Pride in you? He’s openly flirted, kissed you, and straight up propositioned you for sex—but sure, he’s proud of you for taking your jacket off.
Your nerves transition into insecurity before you can catch them, and you’re starting to feel a little stupid, like a child playing pretend.
You watch tentatively as he tilts his head at you, running his own assessments of your actions. 
“Will you come sit on my lap?” he asks you after a moment. 
You suddenly become acutely aware of the amount of air in your lungs. This feels like a big request and you’re not even sure how to take his meaning. Does he want you to sit sideways? Your back to his front? Or fully straddle him? 
He wants whatever you want, he’d said. What do you want?
You glance down at his thighs, covered by fabric more expensive than you can imagine. Positive confirmation rings through your head immediately, willing you to push yourself forward a little more. 
You reposition yourself over him, straddling his lap in spite of your nerves.
Again, he looks pleased. Happy even. One of his hands comes to stroke soothing patterns across your lower back, the other resting on your waist. 
He makes sure to catch your gaze, “You’ll tell me if you want to stop.” 
He follows when your eyes stray, “Yes?”
“Yes.”
He places a tender kiss on your cheekbone, “How did shopping go?”
“Um, good. It was good. One of the sales girls helped me,” your breath is shaky as he kisses your jawline.
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
“I, uh, I just went to this little boutique up on third street,” he places another kiss on the column of your throat as you talk. “Um, it took longer than I thought it would. There were so many choices.”
His hands come up to soothe over your ribs, pulling you a little closer as they do. He hums for you to keep talking, his kisses continuing to lower until they’re down to your collarbone, though they remain relatively chaste.
“I—I didn’t really know what to look for,” you admit, breath shaky as you exhale. 
“But you like it?”
“Yeah, I—I do.”
He hums, smiling against your skin. His fingers inch under the seam of your shirt, caressing your waist. “Can I take this off?”
You nod timidly, trying not to seem so on edge with anticipation. You’re not confident that he can’t see right through you.  
He presses another chaste kiss to your neck upon receival of the permission, and your shirt begins to come off slowly, his hands skimming every new bit of skin revealed. As he pulls it over your head, he glances down at the baby pink bralette you’d picked out for yourself.
He groans quietly as he takes in the sight, “Oh, pretty girl. Beautiful girl,” He noses at your chest, leaving little kisses where his lips make contact with your skin, “Look at you. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Your stomach flutters as his hair tickles your cheek. His hands roam up your sides, stopping to stroke placid circles along the sides of your breasts.
His touch makes its way around your back, expertly undoing your bra clasp without a second thought. Your bra hangs forward a bit off your shoulders, but he leaves the work of entirely removing it to you. And you do, with more confidence than you’d imagined yourself mustering.
He immediately shows his appreciation, kissing and caressing your chest with lover-like admiration. Your head falls back involuntarily as he noses at your soft skin.
He’s breathing heavy when he pulls back, humming low and deep before lifting you up off his lap to stand. The sudden shift has you a bit thrown off, working to catch up as he kneels down in front of you and repeats his earlier process with your skirt—kissing your thighs and tugging the fabric down bit by bit.
When it’s discarded on the floor you stand only left in your underwear, the lace practically illuminated against your skin.
He looks up at you from his place on the floor and smiles as he takes in the sight of your body. His hands find your hips as he asks you, “Has anyone ever seen you like this before?”
You hesitate for half a second before answering truthfully.
His smile grows, “No, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” 
He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s nodding, “Yeah, I know.”
As he rises to stand he scoops you up by the back of your thighs and lifts you in the air with no discernable effort. Now at face level with him, you get a bit bolder and lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back, pleased, beginning to walk the two of you over towards the bed.
He sets you down gently atop the soft mattress, kisses pushing you backwards to lie back on the bed. He scoops your wrists up and leisurely moves your arms up above your head. His grip is benign as he releases one hand in favor of holding your jaw. Your kiss is deep and controlled on his part, but in a way that makes you feel light in the head. You like the cloudy-sensation very much.
After a while, he pulls back to look at you with clouded eyes. 
He practically purrs, “You’re such a kind girl. So sweet to everyone, all the time. Will you let me be sweet to you?”
Your breath is shaky as you nod, attempts at hiding your anticipation failing.
He nods back at you with a faux-sympathy across his face. “Let me hear you say it.”
You force air into your lungs, giving you the willpower to speak the words. “Will you touch me? Please?”
The corners of his lips turn up, “Of course, sweet girl.”
He nips at your jaw as his hands travel down, petting the inside of your thighs with a touch so feather light it almost tickles.
Your knee jerks inward towards his hand, your body desperately seeking out more of this new sensation. He obliges, tracing his touch back up, up, up until his hand dips under the lace trim of your panties, skimming over your clit. Your hips flinch back away from him momentarily in surprise, only to press back forward a second later.
He actually laughs at the action, like it’s endearing. You feel a little silly for it, but you’re not given much time to dwell as he persists, brushing against you with a bit more pressure.
He tilts his head, watching your expression carefully with a remarkably pleased look on his own face. “How’s that, sweet girl?”
You nod, beside yourself. “Feels good,” you whimper. “Feels really good..”
You don’t necessarily mean to, but your hips grind up against his touch, your body too mesmerized with the sensation to remember to be embarrassed.
He’s certainly not complaining about it though, his quiet coos encouraging you to chase the feeling. 
He lets you grind up against his hand, taking in the needy look on your face with contentment.
“Poor girl,” he tuts. “Just need somebody to take care of you, huh?”
That makes your cheeks burn, but your attention finds itself more concerned with the urge to squeeze your thighs together.
You whine when he pulls his hand back out of your underwear, only for him to stand resolute in his actions. 
“Not yet, sweet thing,” he hums, pressing you back down to the bed with a light but firm touch when you try to sit up. 
He hushes you gently, murmuring for you to be patient as he shifts his position over you. 
He starts to move down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. The sensation of his lips tracing down your stomach has you feeling butterflies.
By the time he reaches your waistline you’re borderline dizzy from the anticipation, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the ache.
He pauses there for a moment, torturously, and noses at the seam of your panties. A whine from you has him chuckling and finally moving to where you need him.
He kisses your clit over your underwear and you’re fighting thoughts of embarrassment over how sure you are he can taste how wet you are over the fabric.
It doesn’t seem to be enough for him though, as he tugs your panties down slowly, kissing your thighs as he goes.
Bruce’s hands hold onto your waist as he eats you out, holding you in place with an easy grip. 
You squirm against the feel of his tongue and you can’t quite figure out what to do with your hands. You almost wish he’d made you keep them above your head but really you’re not sure you’d be able to keep it together if he had. You’re not sure you’re keeping it together now.
He groans against your pussy, and one of your hands flies to grip his hair without permission from your brain. If you’re being honest with yourself though, your brain isn’t really the one calling the shots anymore.
You gasp when he licks a bold stripe, “Bruce—”
He groans again, briefly breaking away from you. “Oh, say that again.”
You sigh out, “Bruce, please.” 
He makes a pleased hum. “Good girl,” he murmurs before diving back in. 
He complies with your pleas generously, giving you more. He’s gradual but resolute as he inserts two fingers into you, giving you the time to adjust. But he’d evidently done a very thorough job prepping you for it, you’re so wet that the initial entry doesn’t sting like you’d expected. No, rather the first thing you register is closer to pleasure. A lot closer.
He begins to pump in and out of you at he continues to suck at your clit, and somewhere during you have a distinct thought of “oh this is it.”
You let out a little gasp and for once, you break out of your own head and just relish in the way his fingers curl inside you.
The way your thighs squeeze around him as you come, doesn’t hinder him one bit, only has him applying his ministrations with more intent. It doesn’t take long for the trembling of your body to give way to full on shaking, your body stuttering beneath him.
He continues working at you the entire way through your orgasm, until you’re flinching from overstimulation. 
He gives you one more lick before looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Y’taste sweet too, you know that?”
You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks as he starts to move back up to face-level, kissing the high point of your cheekbone.  
He pulls down on your bottom lip, your slick wet against your mouth.
You open without question, a clouding urge to please him the only thing running through your mind. 
He grumbles a low, pleased sound as you do, moving his hand only to provide room for him to kiss you again.
He sits back up over you and starts unbuttoning his shirt and you realize only now that he’s still fully dressed. 
He glances down to his belt as he undoes the buttons. 
“Will you help me out, sweet girl?”
You blink a couple times before registering the request, still overwhelmed by how quickly and skillfully he’d made you come. 
You struggle a bit to push yourself up into a sitting position, but he supports you by your waist, nipping along your jaw as encouragement.
Your hands shake as you undo the clasp, and while you’re still very much eager, if not moreso, you’re suddenly confronted with the very real possibility that you’re about to have your limits pushed. He ate you out and did a damn good job, stands to reason that he’d want you to return the favor.
So it takes you by surprise when he’s nudging you back against the pillows, removing his pants himself.
He keeps you occupied with an intense kiss as he does, and the distraction so smooth it’s almost like it’s rehearsed. 
You follow his lead easily, though surprised by his lack of desire to get his fill too.
He drapes himself over you nicely, his size easily dwarfing you out. He’s quick to block your chin from tilting down, gently bringing your face back up to meet his. 
He shakes his head lightly, murmuring, “Don’t worry about that. I got you.”
You are worried about it, but you trust Bruce, you know you do now.
You feel the weight of his cock against your stomach, at this exact moment, feeling like not much more than a daunting task.
“S’alright, sweet girl,” he lulls, brushing your hair back. “Okay?”
As heavy as the simple question is, you don’t need to think about it before you’re nodding and moving your hand to hold onto his bicep.
He peppers kisses all over your face as he starts to push in, effectively starting to distract you from the pain of the stretch. He hushes your whines soothingly and kneads at your waist with confident hands.
Your arms lock around his shoulders on instinct, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to convince yourself he’s almost all the way in, but you know you’ve got aways to go.
He pauses halfway, imploring you to open your eyes so he can check up on you properly.
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he softly urges.
You will yourself to blink up at him and try to take on the challenge of both him and his gaze. Surely, an impossible task.
But you manage shaky eye contact that occasionally gives way to glancing down at his lips. 
It doesn’t feel good yet, but it only makes you more eager to keep going.
“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a breath. “You can keep going.”
He waits to find that reassurance in your eyes before he continues to push in, bestowing you a deep kiss in reward for your bravery.
Once he’s nearly bottomed out he waits a moment, then begins to rock in and out slowly, letting you get used to a starter of the sensation.
He brushes your hair back, weaving through the strands. “There we go,” he coos as you look down between you. “Doing so good.”
Your gasp is louder than they had been before, and closer to a sigh now. 
He’s fucking you gently, with a decorum that exceeds what you’d earlier told yourself you were stupid for hoping for.
It doesn’t take long at all for his movement to start to feel really good and your grip around his shoulders comes around to a different kind of intensity.
He noses against your jaw, applying kisses whenever  convenient. “‘S that feel good, sweet girl? Hm?”
He hits a particularly deep spot in you immediately after and it makes you borderline squeak. He huffs out a laugh that’s nothing short of affectionate. 
“Yeah?”
He then attacks that spot with extra intention, hitting it absolutely expertly every time. He speeds up a little, lips latched onto your neck as he fucks you nice and deep.
He drops a hand down between you and starts rubbing circles onto your clit with a pace that makes you want to scream.
You can’t help the moan you release when he teeths at your neck, clearly aiming to drive you crazy. But damn if he isn’t going about it the right way.
His circles pick up pace and you can be sure you’re leaving nail marks on his back. He seems to only get more encouraged by your sounds, working you closer and closer to the edge with every whimper.
He finally lets you over after a minute of shamelessly relishing in your moans, himself following close after.
He continues moving in and out of you until you’ve both completely finished, slowly coming to a stop. 
You get a moment to catch your breath before he pulls out delicately. You don’t even realize he’s moved before he’s got his boxers back on and is halfway to the bathroom.
You’re a little alarmed by the sudden shift in proximity, though you guess that’s the playboy experience, isn’t it? After a second you hear water running and assume he’s taking a shower.
You push yourself to sit up fully, minding your achy thighs, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You glance at the foot of the bed where your underwear lies, then back over by the couch where the rest of your clothes lay discarded. You briefly contemplate how quickly you can get your clothes back on when the bathroom doors open again.
You glance up at Bruce, dazed, who looks surprised himself to see you sitting up. As he makes his way back to the bed you notice the supplies he has in tow and your brain begins to slowly start turning its gears again.
You don’t realize the glass of water in his hand is for you until he’s pushed it into your palm. 
His other hand carries a wet wash cloth that you, again, aren’t able to register the purpose for until it’s in action. 
“Drink,” he tells you as he spreads your knees apart gently, wiping away the mess between your legs with a notable amount of compassion for your sensitivity.
You do, gulping a few as he finishes, tossing the rag in a hamper before setting your glass down on the side table.
Your eyes return to the end of the bed and you nearly decide to get up, but he’s still standing so close to you, you’re not sure this is the right time.
You seem caught halfway between decisions now, you know you do. You’d honestly preferred when you thought he’d just ditched you for a shower because at least then this part wouldn’t be so awkward.
He watches you closely as you deliberate and seems to draw a conclusion about your hesitation rather quickly. His brow pinches as he processes, tilting his head at you. 
“You’ve got to be joking,” he says, bewildered. “Right?”
“I—” you falter, looking to the couch and back to him again. “No?”
He stares at you for a moment with an expression you can’t define.
“Lay down.”
You don’t have a second to process before he’s climbing back in bed too, pulling you down to lay your head on the pillow.
He pulls the covers over you and splays an arm over your waist, clearly firm in his decision for you to stay.
Your eyes are heavy and his bed is so comfortable, it’s difficult for you to even consider either of you wanting you to leave now.
Maybe you’ll just sleep for a little while, get some of your energy back. 
The way he traces soft patterns across your stomach certainly encourages the idea and doesn’t give you much power to resist.
You let your eyes flutter shut to the feather-light touch and listen to the steady deepness of his breaths.
Well, this isn’t so bad either.
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librababe99 · 2 days ago
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When They're All Home
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Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne x Wife Reader, Batkids, Batfamily goodness WC: 910 words Summary: Surrounded by laughter and love, you cherish this fleeting moment of peace, knowing your family is finally home—even if just for tonight.
A/N: Hello! It's been a few weeks since I've last posted. I was feeling very burnt out with writing and didn't feel like I was providing the quality you all deserve. School and life also really started to pick up for me.... Buttttt I hope that this little fluffy one shot makes up for my absence!
| Masterlist |
The halls of Wayne Manor were bustling in a way that hadn’t happened in ages. The grand old house seemed to come alive with the unmistakable hum of voices, footsteps, and laughter—yes, even laughter. The rare symphony of the entire Wayne family being home at once.
You paused at the top of the grand staircase, gazing down as everyone settled in, a soft smile gracing your lips. Bruce came up behind you, placing a warm hand on your back, and for a moment, the two of you watched in contented silence.
“They’re all here,” you murmured, a soft warmth filling your chest. It didn’t happen often, not with the unique and sometimes complicated lives they each led. But tonight? Tonight, they were all home.
“Feels like the old days, doesn’t it?” Bruce whispered back, his deep voice low and gentle in your ear.
“Better,” you replied, eyes still taking in the sight below. Dick was laughing, arm around Tim’s shoulder as he animatedly recounted a story. Jason was by the window, looking like he might want to bolt but staying all the same, an amused smirk as he watched his brothers. Damian, his usual stoic self, pretended not to care but stuck close to you, his hand brushing yours as he leaned on the banister. Even Alfred was here, his dignified smile softened by the rare moment of togetherness.
“I just can’t believe they’re all here. All of them under one roof again.” You leaned into Bruce, letting yourself feel the happiness that filled your heart as you saw each of your boys together.
Downstairs, Dick was the first to catch sight of you both, his grin brightening as he waved you over. “Hey! Are you guys just gonna stand there all night, or are you going to come down and join us?”
Bruce smirked, giving you a look. “Duty calls.”
Hand in hand, the two of you descended the stairs, and as soon as you hit the landing, Dick pulled you both into a bear hug, one arm slung over each of you. "Glad you two decided to grace us with your presence,” he teased.
“Oh, we wouldn't miss this for the world,” you replied, hugging him back tightly. "I’m so glad you’re all here. It feels like…home.”
Jason scoffed from his spot by the window. “Getting sentimental already, huh?” But the hint of a smile softened his usual bravado.
You walked over, gently taking his hand. “If I didn’t know better, Jason, I’d say you missed us.”
He rolled his eyes, but the way he squeezed your hand back let you know he felt it, too. “Don’t push your luck…Ma.”
Your heart skipped, warmth spreading as you smiled at him. “Noted, Jason.”
The evening passed in a blur of laughter, memories, and everyone catching up on life. Tim and Damian found themselves in a surprising truce as they argued over strategy in one of their favorite board games. Dick made a dramatic performance of acting out stories from his latest missions, keeping everyone in stitches. Even Jason relaxed, offering up a few quips that had everyone laughing.
After dinner, you found yourself in the kitchen, tidying up while everyone was in the living room. You paused, leaning against the counter, letting the warmth of the night settle over you. They weren’t all your biological kids, but they were yours all the same. Your family, each of them so different yet so loved.
Bruce walked in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m perfect,” you said, reaching up to lace your fingers through his. “I just… I love them so much, Bruce. Seeing them all together like this makes me feel…” You trailed off, unsure if there was even a word for how full your heart felt.
He gave you a rare, gentle smile. “They love you too. More than you know.” And then, after a pause, he added, “You’re the reason they’re all here. You’re what brought us all together.”
You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” Bruce said, pulling you into his arms. “They’re home because of you.”
The two of you lingered in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until you heard Tim’s voice call from the living room. “Are you two planning on hiding in there all night, or are we actually going to watch this movie, Mom?”
With a laugh, you and Bruce rejoined the group, taking your place among them. As the evening wore on, the boys began to drift off one by one, settling into the manor’s rooms or simply crashing on the couches. Jason fell asleep in an armchair, Damian nestled himself into a corner of the sofa with a book, and Dick was sprawled on the floor next to Tim, both of them talking quietly until their voices faded into the night.
When you and Bruce finally retired to your room, you glanced out the door one last time, your heart so full it ached.
“They’ll be off saving the world again tomorrow,” you murmured as you slipped under the covers, feeling Bruce’s arm wrap around you.
“But tonight, they’re home,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. And with that, you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the comfort of knowing that, for this one night, you had your whole family right where they belonged.
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Thank U
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violenc, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bruce Wayne/Batman (Christian Bale version)
Summary: you try to thank the vigilante who saved your life.
In the same universe as Home Sweet Home
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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‘To Batman’ 
No, that sounds ridiculous. All of this is just absurd. You don’t really think this will go anywhere but you just need to get the thoughts out. After a sleepless night, you need to put it somewhere before it boils over inside of you. 
You need to thank the man who saved you. If that’s what he is. He seems inhuman with all that he does for Gotham. 
‘My hero’ 
Ugh. New page. 
‘Hi. 
You don’t know me, but you saved my life. I know I’m not the only one and I hope I’m not the only one to say thanks. That’s what this is. I know it isn’t much but I’m not sure how else to do this. 
If you don’t remember me, that’s okay. I was walking home and there was a man following me. Then two. Then three. Then you were there. 
And just as quick, you were gone and so were they. I didn’t get the chance to thank you but I got home safe. Because of you. 
Batman. My hero. 
I owe you my life. 
Stay safe. 
Just another Gotham citizen.’ 
You reread the letter and cringe. What are you doing? You’re crazy. Is this pick-me energy? 
Ugh. You just can’t get over it. Your heart races every time the scene plays out in your head. Those men, their footfalls echoing yours, getting closer and closer, penning you in as they came at you from all sides. 
Your shoulders rose as you shrunk down and braced yourself for a heedless fight. Then the sudden flapping, the crash and crunch of violence, the shadows at battle against the brick wall as you stood by helplessly. Then the silence and his grizzled command. 
‘Go home.’ 
You ran all the way there. You didn’t look back or stop. And you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. The dregs of adrenaline are still in you. 
Fatigue finally sets in as the sun rises. You fold up the letter and slide it into and envelope. You don’t expect this to go well. You don’t know what you’re doing. 
You’re in the same clothes as the night before. You feel like you’ve been frozen. That night fogs around you like a cloud. So close... it could’ve been so much worse. You could have been another news story. Another body in and alley. 
You walk down to the precinct. You stare at the doors for a while before you make yourself enter. The last time you went there, the only time, they wouldn’t even file a report about the man who sleeps outside your apartment door. He went away though... just a few days later. 
You go up to the counter. 
“Hi, erm, I need to get this to Commissioner Gordon.” You say. 
The uniformed officer doesn’t look up. He laughs.  
“It’s just a letter,” you plead. 
“Girl, you’re wasting everyone’s time right now,” the man doesn’t look away from the computer screen. 
“Please,” you hold the envelope through the little gap under the thick plastic window. 
“What’s this? A love letter?” He scoffs. 
“Joe, don’t be a dick,” another officer approaches and takes the letter. “I’ll give it to him.” 
“Oh, thank you so much,” you preen. 
“Don’t know if he’ll read it,” he mutters. 
“He just needs to look on the outside,” you point. 
He flips the envelope and reads your writing; ‘Batman, c/o Commissioner Gordon’. He tilts his head as he looks up at you. He shrugs. 
“Whatever, it’s a reason to stretch my legs,” he wiggles the letter between his fingers. “Have a good day, ma’am.” 
“Thanks, officer.” 
You turn and scurry out of the precinct. You don’t think the caped crusader will ever see that letter but at least you tried. It might not help you sleep at night, but it will be one less thing keeping you awake. 
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thewitchblue · 8 hours ago
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You were a ray of sunshine in the Batfamily's life. You loved the children and Bruce with your entire heart, and everyone took notice. You loved each of the family members differently but equally intensely. No kid ever felt unloved by you.
You softly hum as you trace Damian's face. He always struggled to sleep. He struggled to relax enough even with sleep medication aiding him most nights. Until you start humming softly and draw patterns on his face lightly. His entire body physically relaxes as his eyes flutter shut, his breathing evening out after a minute. His face subconsciously leans into your soothing touch.
With a tender smile on your face and a gentle forehead kiss, you moved onto the next Batboy who struggles with sleep: Dick. You knock your secret knock with a smile on your face. You had a soft spot for Dick the second the kid lost his parents. How could you possibly not when his small body shook so badly in your arms? He had the same tormented look Bruce used to have before your loving family formed.
You hear a soft but excited "come in" from Dick, who seemed to have still been getting ready for bed. He loved it when you told him stories above all else. You told him thousands of your stories, but he was always excited to listen to you talk about the moment you adopted him. You'd tell him about how much you loved him as you reminisced on the first time he called you mom. How your heart had never been so full of love and adoration for your kid. He wasn't an easy kid, but you loved him deeply, and you reminded him constantly.
Dick gives you a warm smile as you set down his nighttime tea: always chamomile with lemon and sugar cubes on the side. It had to be sugar cubes, as the packets tasted weird to him.
"What story do you want tonight, sweetheart?"
He surprised you, honestly, when he asked to hear about how you met Bruce. You chuckle softly.
"It was a rainy Thursday night. We both became vigilantes the same day and met during our nightly adventures. We looked at each other for a long time before we heard police sirens and ran towards it. I must have saved his life hundreds of times that night. We have been close together ever since."
Dick cuddles into his bed and looks at you with wide eyes. He was always excited to hear this story. With a look of adoration, he murmurs,
"And you give us a hard time about our recklessness."
You roll your eyes but can't fight the fond smile off your face. You gently play with Dick's hair, continuing your tale,
"I'm not the one charging into burning buildings nightly without superpowers, darling.
Dick and Bruce adored your moral compass more than anything. You always did what was right no matter how hard it was to do. You saved thousands of lives throughout the time you were a vigilante with Bruce. He called you rash every night because of the way you handled being a superhero, but you see the endangered people and never hesitate. You are immune to damage of all types, so it was easy to run into the thick of danger to save everybody from a burning building or from the Joker's psychopathic game. Joker was angry when he found out you couldn't get hurt. You don't even feel pain because of your powers. You weren't a fun target to him, so he gave up.
"I wish I could've met younger you. I love seeing my mom being a casual badass."
You laugh softly, giving him a cheek kiss as a goodnight. Batboy number 3 was Jason. Jason took after your personality more than the rest and defends you even when it's just reporters talking bad about you. You taught him how to love and accept being loved, despite everything. You taught him to look for the best in everyone because their stories often run deeper than the surface.
You can hear his excited steps as he lets you in. He held up the newest book he wanted to share with you. You read to him every night, as he finds your voice soothes him.
He drags you to his bedside and climbs into his bed. You kissed his forehead before starting to read the book. He knows he could listen to Audiobooks, but he found it was you that soothed him. He found the narrators of Audiobooks often annoying or dramatic, but you read the exact way he wants you to and at the perfect speed.
He was soon drifting off as well, your hand holding his and squeezing morse code messages into his hand. You kissed the tip of his nose gently before moving on.
By the time you were done with all the children, Bruce was back. You grabbed the first aid kid you keep in your shared room. Bruce must've had an easier night because his injuries weren't nearly as life-threatening as usual.
He hissed through his teeth as you cleaned his wounds, but you murmured reassuring words and held his hand with your free hand.
"Just a few more, baby. You're doing so good, my hero."
He squeezed your hand when you were done. His exhausted smile was still so full of love for you.
"We're so lucky to have you in our lives."
He kissed your cheek gently. He loved you deeply, even when it was hard for him to express it. Love truthfully scared him ever since his parents' deaths, but you were the ray of sunshine in his darkest of nights.
"I'm lucky to have my little army of heroes. I love you and the kids."
He gave a tired hum of acknowledgement.
"We all love you too."
Alfred, appearing as silently as ever at the doorway of the bedroom, said,
"Master Wayne, if you don't marry her, I will."
You laugh at Bruce's shocked expression. He whipped around to face Alfred, who was staring at him with a look that was so serious you couldn't help but smirk at. While you'd love to marry Bruce, you knew it wasn't that simple for him. He struggles with the idea of having a loving wife waiting for him. He doesn't feel like he deserves it at the moment, and you respect that. You will continue to be the mother of his children and the warm presence in his life. You voice your thoughts,
"Alfred, I don't need to marry Bruce to be part of the family."
Alfred raised an eyebrow at Bruce, but Bruce was in another place.
"That much is clear, but I still want you officially part of the family. You're the glue holding everyone together."
You smile at the duo. Family is so much deeper than blood, and you continue to prove it to the Bat family every day. You ruffle Bruce's hair gently.
"I'd never say no to my boys."
Bruce took Alfred's advice on your anniversary. He proposed in front of the entire family, which inevitably ended in a dog pile of hugs from all your boys and a sweet kiss from Bruce.
Bruce, your private and loving fiancée, confirmed the engagement to the world the next day, holding up your hand and giving it a gentle kiss. He held your engagement hand everywhere he went, the rest of the Bat family fighting to hold your other hand, eventually scheduling who holds your other hand in an endless cycle.
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weebumochi · 6 hours ago
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it only JUST became november but it’s christmas cheer season according to me
thinking about your first christmas as a family after bruce adopts dick grayson.
bruce is nervous because every christmas since becoming batman has been piss poor. there’s been no big dinners because it’s just been himself and alfred for so long. gifts were exchanged not on christmas morning but left on beds and desks and in elevator shafts because the holidays were such a strange time for the two of them without thomas and martha around. sometimes it was easier to give each other the space. alfred always left the fireplace on for when bruce would get home from holiday patrol, perhaps with a cup of hot cocoa just the way he liked it left on the hearth, always suspiciously steaming as if alfred had stayed up until bruce got back to leave it there.
then you come along and there’s dinner again, and sometimes bruce is even home some of the day to celebrate with you. the tree comes out of storage and you add a novelty ornament to it every year because the others are all for show and it just doesn’t make the tower feel like home. bruce bakes with you, stealing fudge from your mixing bowl. you almost (almost!) get to send him off with tinsel around his cowl ears and jingle bells on his belt. warmth is returning to gotham in december with you around.
but then dick comes along and everything is different! bruce doesn’t really realize it until he takes dick out shopping for a winter coat and an employee gives dick a candy cane on the way out, but it’s going to be christmas soon and he hasn’t planned anything. he’s been fine with the way things are for so long that he hadn’t realized that dick is still young, that christmas is still something to look forward to, that he’s a father now.
you walk in one day and bruce is stringing lights around the fireplace with dick running around the tree, wrapping it in ribbon and tinsel. bruce hoists dick up to put the star on the tree and they both nearly knock the whole thing over. dick hangs christmas wreaths in the batcave, super glues a bright red rudolph nose on the hood of the batmobile, builds gingerbread houses with little gingerbread bruce and you holding hands while gingerbread dick beats a gingerbread bad guy with a peppermint carved into a batarang. it sits very proudly in the kitchen. you’ve never seen bruce so flustered before. alfred has never seen the tower so badly decorated. he loves it.
on patrol, you lament about how cold dick must be in his robin costume and force him into leg warmers and a sweater, even as he whines about how it’s never bothered him before. bruce watches as you tug a hat over dick’s hair, tucking the little black strands underneath and placing your warm hands to dick’s flushed cheeks. you warn them both that if they don’t stay warm, you’ll be restricting their vigilante privileges. the boys just share a look because they know you really mean it.
you worry so much when they’re out together. try as you might to pretend to be asleep once bruce settles in beside you, you always sneak out of bed to check on dick before returning to your room. bruce pretends he’s too exhausted to notice and just pulls you closer.
dick gets you two out of the tower, too! bruce takes you both ice skating in gotham square, stumbling around on his skates like a 6′1, beefy newborn dear as you and dick skate circles around him and laugh (you really don’t mean to embarrass him so bad that he skates over to a bench and pouts for ten minutes, but you and dick convince him to skate between the two of you until he can stand on his own).
the snow in gotham is dirty, but that doesn’t stop dick from initiating snowball fights with you when you go out past the city lines. bruce takes the two of you to an old family friend’s estate and catches you two from the window pelting each other with handfuls of snow like your lives depended on it, and you bet your asses he’s coming for blood when he meets you both out there. none of you are dressed for getting covered in snow and alfred gives a very stern talking to you three by the front door when you get home.
and when christmas morning comes, bruce feels his heart clench as dick throws himself on top of you and bruce’s sleeping bodies in bed, begging you both to get up so he can open presents already. alfred stands by the bedroom door with this fond look on his face, mumbling something about how “familiar” this all was.
dick loves every single gift you guys give him. he runs off to his room to play with his new toys and video games the minute you let him. by the end of dinner, dick is passed out on the couch with a full stomach, so bruce laughs and takes a few pictures to tease him before scooping him up to take him to bed. it isn’t until dick is tucked under his sheets that it really hits him: he loves this kid. he’s got a family now. he’s going to do everything in his power to protect it. he gets misty-eyed at the thought that it’s his turn now, something that seemed so far out of his mind ten years ago.
he’s still kneeling by dick’s bedside when you come in and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair, “dick left us a gift. wanna come see?”
it’s a little foreign to him when bruce first sees it. he’d seen it maybe a few times at christmas parties at boarding school, almost always managing to evade getting dragged underneath it save for the few times he’d been given a sloppy, eggnog-spiked kiss by a classmate.
you stand under the mistletoe hanging from the lowest arch in the house (probably the only one dick could reasonably reach), giggling conspiratorially.
“was this your idea?” he accuses, slinking closer to the plant but not quite giving in just yet.
“dick wanted me to tell him about some christmas traditions and picked this one out. he’s never had a traditional christmas before, ya know?”
“and did he already get his kiss?”
“a big, embarrassing one right on the forehead from me AND alfred. he’s had his fill of this tradition, I think.”
bruce can’t help but laugh. he’s so full of warm food and joy. he’s happy dick’s happy. he’s happy you’re happy. he’s so happy. “can’t say the same for myself.” he cups his hands on either side of your throat and grins, breath scented from the candy cane he’d been sucking on after dinner. he kisses you and the mint passes to your tongue, a cool contrast to the feverishness of his mouth. he hadn’t felt this warm in years.
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nihtscada · 3 days ago
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sometimes I feel like most DC fans only like batfam stuff and occasionally the superfam idk
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weebumochi · 1 day ago
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aghhhh i love it when ppl write for him
nsfw bruce headcanons !
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— with all of his past playboy tendencies, i'm like 99% sure he isn't as rough as tumblr dc smut community makes him out to be. bruce craves genuine love and slow, firmly yearning love making though he'd never openly admit that.
— actually a big yapper during sex? like always gruffing and complaining about something very mandain while like... pulling out your third orgasm?
— literally spends half the night murmuring about logistics or some board meeting as he’s tugging your knees up, pushing you down into the mattress, each word rumbling low and delicious, barely making sense because he's burried into your clit.
— overstimulates you on 'accident', he's just firmly convinced he knows exactly what you're able to handle and to what extent as well. though he'll stop if you say ofc
— likes to loosen up on the dom part of it sometimes, especially when he comes home after a long patrol. in those nights, he’s all grit and quiet murmurs, his usual control slipping as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, half-rough and completely vulnerable, every lingering kiss a reminder of how deeply he needs this, needs you.
— really likes to takes his time, doesn't matter how many cases he has on his deck, when he's with you he's as patient as it possibly gets. it's just to silently show you how special and loved you are and because he simply enjoys it.
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thebigbadbatswife · 2 days ago
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Sticking Noses Where They Don't Belong
Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Previous Part - Internal Conflict
Summary - The batfamily starts to dig into Bruce’s personal life.
Warnings - Mentions of canon typical violence, implied/referenced character death and mention of injuries. If I missed anything, lmk!
Taglist - Taglist at the end of the fic, reminder that this is the only taglist I have. If you would like to be added/removed feel free to message me!
A/N - I know it's been another long break between updates, inspiration has been lacking, but good news is that the next part should be up toward the end of this month or at the very start of next month!
Word Count - 1.6k
Sunlight streamed into the clocktower through the large clockface. Gears turned as the pendulum swung back and forth. The ticking filled the silence that hung over the three people crowded in front of the computer screen. On the screen were a list of different files. All of them included various evidence and documents that pertained to different cases that Bruce had worked on solo. 
They were all alphabetically listed and most of them had a tick next to them. An indication of a successfully closed case. The ones that didn’t either had [OPEN] next to their names, for the ones that were still being actively looked in to. While others had a cross. An indication of a case that had run cold and was no longer a priority, for the time being. All of the cold cases could be counted on one hand because of the effort Bruce had always put into them. Doing his best to make sure no stone was left unturned. Even if that meant weeks or months of sleepless nights and neglecting everything else.
Barbara, as well as Dick and Tim, were familiar with all of them except one. It had been hidden to them at first. It was hiding as a subcategory within one of the completed files. It would have gone completely unnoticed unless someone was purposely looking for it. Which they hadn’t been until Tim had spotted the incredible small arrow.
Within that subcategory was a single folder. It was marked with a bat symbol and had a lock on it. They had already made several attempts to get into the case file. Their final attempt warning them that another failed attempt would send out an alert and lock the system down. 
The only reason they had even gone looking into the folders in the first place was because of Tim. He had seen Superman bring back an unconscious Bruce, stating Harley was the cause for the state that he was in. Several days later, once Bruce was awake and talking, he had overheard the conversation he had shared with Superman. He had been asking about someone. Whoever it was, they had been with him when got injured and that had led him to wondering if there was a case that none of them knew about. 
“What about the case it’s attached to?” Dick asked. “Could there be any connection?”
“Maybe, let’s see,” Barbara replied. She backed out of the subcategory and opened up the file it was attached to. 
Even if they weren’t working closely with Bruce, just the name would have them knowing the exact contents. Everyone in Gotham, and even outside of Gotham, knew. It had circulated in the news and online circles for months. 
CASEFILE - SLAUGHTERHOUSE 
They had all seen a lot of things in their line of work that had made their stomachs churn, but this case was one of the worse. In terms of blood, guts and gore, that was. Describing it as gruesome felt like an understatement.
The night had started with a breakout at Arkham. Joker had been silent for months so, in a way, it had been expected. The months leading up to it being the calm before the storm. And like every time he got out, it had been all hands on deck. 
They had started out by checking all of his usual haunts. As crazy as he was, he still remained a creature of habit. Well, most of the time anyway. And there were a lot of his various safehouses scattered across the city. 
It was in the funhouse in the abandoned amusement park that they had finally found a clue. Signs of a struggle. Blood on the floor, a couple of teeth and a smear of that makeup the clown was so fond of. It hadn’t taken the World’s Greatest Detective to figure out who had attacked him so brazenly. 
Harley Quinn. 
She had vanished shortly after her very, very violent, breakup with Joker. A breakup that had almost taken half the city with it. Bruce had spent months looking for her afterwards, concerned of another attack from her considering her ex was still alive and he was sure she would do whatever she had to in order to lure him out.
By the time that Bruce had found out where she was headed with him, it had been too late. At the exact moment that he had run into the slaughterhouse, Harley had shoved Joker into the one of the machines. Over the sounds of the machines running, his screams had been heard, echoing through the building until they fell silent for good.
Harley had managed to escape and disappear while Bruce had emptied his stomach of what little he had eaten before the news of the Arkham breakout. But not before she had made a mess of the Gotham Zoo in order to steal the two hyenas kept there. 
No one had seen her since. Well, until a few days ago when Clark had brought back an unconscious and injured Bruce and Diana had dropped off an unconscious Harley, right on Arkham’s doorstep. While the hyenas had been sent to a sanctuary. 
“We know that Harley’s involved with whatever is on that file. The question is who was with Bruce? It wasn’t Clark or Diana. He wouldn’t ask for their help with dealing with Harley and we know, from the conversation Tim overheard, that he wasn’t by himself. So who was with him?” Dick said, thinking aloud. 
They stood there for a while, trying to think of who could have been with him that night. All they had was a long list of people he wouldn’t work with outside of League duties, for various reasons and excuses. 
“What about one of the League’s newest member?” Tim piped up. “You know, the last set of people they inducted in. It’s been a while since they last did it so the list shouldn’t be too long.” 
“It’s worth a shot,” Dick agreed.
Tim had been correct. The list wasn’t very long. A total of six people had joined during the last induction. Atom. Black Lightning. Doctor Fate. Blue Beetle. Zatanna. And you.
Your file stood out amongst the rest. It was completely neutral. Just facts. None of the comments or remarks or observations that Bruce usually included. It was completely devoid of them. Which was suspicious. Really suspicious. 
It wasn’t the only thing that stood you. There was no personal details anywhere. Not even a remark about your identity, like he had once done during his early years and had first met Selina or run into Riddler. In the boxes that should have had that information there was just question marks. It didn’t even look like there was an attempt to look into you and find out who you were. Which didn’t sound like Bruce at all. Not with his level of paranoia. Especially when it came to strangers. And even more so when those strangers were being considered for the Justice League.
Dick quirked an eyebrow and leant forward onto the desk, as if that would show him something that wasn’t there. The only information there was were the things that you had done before and after joining the League and your skill set. So it wasn’t like he had forgotten to upload things to the secure cloud that Barbara’s system and the Batcomputer shared. 
“Unless he saved the rest of the information locally, this doesn’t make any sense,”  Barbara muttered.
As they got to the very end of the file, there was one tiny that only served to confuse them further. 
Would make a good addition to the Justice League.
“He never does something without a reason. Even if it’s a really bad reason,” Tim trailed off. If there was one thing that Bruce was good at, it was making bad decisions and backing them up with an even worse defence.
With their search through Bruce’s files ending in what they had all considered to be somewhat of a failure, Dick decided to grab his suit and headed for the Watchtower. Maybe he would find some answers there. Or he would just end up with more questions. That was a running theme when it came to Bruce. 
The Watchtower was quiet for the most part. The only Leaguers he ran into were Red Tornado and Hal. He thought about asking them before deciding against it. The last thing that he needed was for it to get back to Bruce about what he and the others were up to. That would certainly bring their investigation to an end if it did.
As Dick was headed toward where he knew Bruce’s lab was, he overheard a couple of voices. Bruce’s and a woman’s. They were hushed. Doing their best to not be overheard. They were also muffled thanks to the closed door. Which made it impossible to make out what was being said.
He continued to creep along the hallway, while also doing his best to not look super suspicious at the same time. He froze when the door opened. You walked out with Bruce at your side. The pace was a slow one. The way that you were holding your side showed that you were very clearly injured. Bruce stayed close to you. Not close enough that he was touching you, but close enough that if you stumbled or something he could easily catch you long before you hit the floor.
Dick watched as the two of you walked down the hallway and he decided to head back the way that he had come from. He still had more questions than answers, but if Bruce caught on to their little investigation they wouldn’t get any answers full stop. For now, he could at least report his findings to the others and they could continue digging deeper at a later date.
*
Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @x-ratedhimbo @sketchiethebear @wandalfnation
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electric-guitarz · 13 hours ago
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Joker!Reader: Can I rizz you up? Batman: Uh...yeah, sure..? Joker!Reader: Batman: Joker..? Joker!Reader on their knees and tugging bats cape Joker!Reader: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
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e-nonsense · 3 days ago
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every now and then i stumble onto a bruce fic
By the Fireplace
BRUCE WAYNE X READER
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MDNI wc: 1.2K summary: Finally snapping the sexual tension between you and your best friend. warnings: alcohol comsumption, dry humping a/n: It's not perfect but it's also nearing midnight so i don't care. Enjoy!!
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It‘s been a relaxing evening so far, hanging out with your long time best friend in his lounge by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, and some deep talk. Bruce will never openly admit it, but he feels like you are the only one who understands him. While being slightly drunk, it‘s easier to relax and shut his mind off. Especially sitting beside you on the comfortable couch; he wants to stay like that forever.
The shared comfortable silence almost makes him fall asleep, but his mind can‘t seem to find complete peace beside you. Even when his head is leaning against the top of your head, he can‘t seem to fully relax yet.
You feel almost the same. You do feel relaxed, safe even, but something keeps stirring inside of you when you are so close to him. Ignoring it and taking another sip of your drink, you watch the fireplace crackle contentedly in front of you.
Bruce sighs out beside you, indicating his tiredness after talking about everything and nothing for hours.
»Want a refill?«
He leans off of you for the first time in probably half an hour and reaches for the whiskey bottle by the coffee table. You shrug and sit up more, letting him fill your glass with the dark liquid.
His movements are slightly disoriented, but he manages to get all the liquid into your glass, and then get more for himself. With a low hum, Bruce sips on his drink, eventually leaning back on the couch. His once perfectly put together appearance became more dishevelled, some strands of hair sticking out in different directions while his tie is resting somewhere in the room; long forgotten.
You also take another quick sip, already used to the bitterness and set it aside for now.
»So… I think it‘s time to go, isn‘t it?«
The time on your phone shows that it‘s well past one am, but Bruce thinks otherwise. A small whine leaves him, completely uncharacteristic normally, but very on point in his drunken state.
»C‘mon, you‘ve only been here for what… two hours?«
He sways on his spot as he leans up and turns to face you fully.
It‘s not exactly true, you‘ve been in his living room for six hours by now, talking nonsense with each other. Gossiping, mostly.
But with your intoxicated brains it‘s hard to tell anymore. So, logically, you sigh out and give in. How could you resist your best of bestest friend anyway?
»A few more minutes, then...«
And that‘s how easily you can make him smile again. It‘s crooked and his eyes are mostly unfocused, but he is satisfied with your easy compliance. And tonight, he seems to be bolder with his actions.
»C‘mere… please,« sighing out, he opens his arms and almost tackles you down with his hug, »such a good friend.« He mumbles against your shoulder, basically squeezing you tight with his arms. If it wouldn‘t been the alcohol, you would‘ve pushed him away by now and pretend to find the physical affection cringe. Not that he does it a lot, only rarely when he is sure you are both absolutely alone.
A second after, you hug him back and sigh out in relaxation. You both melt together into one not too long after, refusing to let go of the other while basking in the comfort.
»I‘m definitely sleeping here tonight.«
You are not sure if you refer to his arms or couch, not caring at this point. He takes your words seriously and squeezes you lightly, almost making your breath hitch.
»Mhm… damn right, you will.«
His voice drops lower, getting into a low whisper as he keeps you close to his chest, refusing to let go of the comfort and sweet scent of you.
Even though you didn‘t mean your words at first, you find yourself quickly accepting the fact that this night will be spend here. Hell, you wouldn‘t mind falling asleep right now like this.
A small groan leaves him and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck, searching for more warmth and most importantly your scent. He needs to make sure you are actually still there and not just a silly imagination he came up with.
Following his actions, you wrap you arms tighter around his neck, shifting to press closer. Your clouded brain can‘t help it, neither does his own and soon enough, your limbs are tangled with the other in a more chaotic way. Thanks to Bruce‘s master-brain, he finds a more comfortable position and lets you straddle his lap.
Finally seated, you both relax and simply enjoy the presence of the other. You don‘t know what changed exactly, but in the next minute he is all over you.
Hands groping gently at your curves and fats, lips tracing your skin down your neck and shoulder. Your shirt seems to be in the way, but he is also too lazy to tug it off just yet.
Your brain catches up on what‘s happening and by the time he already started, you can‘t just stop. Acting by logic and pure desire, you give into the act and tangle your fingers into his hair, guiding his head around a little.
Soon, the room fills his soft grunts and your heavy breathing. His hips desperatly jerk up and try to get friction, but it‘s harder in this position when his chest is pressed against yours and you are also pressed completely against him. Deciding you have enough of the friction that‘s barely even there, you lean him back into the back rest and do it your own way.
Hips grinding and sliding against his crotch earns a groan from both of you. The new friction feels more intense and delicious, soon getting breathless from it. His hands settle on your thighs and the small of your back, guiding you in a steady rythm.
Due to the effect of the alcohol, it‘s actually more sloppy than anything, but you both couldn‘t care less. It‘s sloppy, messy, hungry, whatever; you both need this.
Your heavy breaths turn into small whimpers, getting him riled even more than he already is. And then it happens, the final knot snapping without warning. You never came so fast before, maybe it‘s your intoxicated brain, maybe it‘s just Bruce alone, but it feels heavenly either way.
Your hips stutter and thighs shake on either side of him, and for a moment he stills too. A primal groan leaves him before he grabs onto your hips and continues, the pace faster and rougher. His brain immediately went to mush the second he realised what happened.
»Oh, yeah— s‘ good f‘ me… just like that, a little longer,« Bruce mutters under his breath, sucking new marks against the exposed skin of your neck and suddenly drags your hips painfully slow against him, trying to draw out as many needy sounds from you and milk out as many possible aftershocks from you at the same time.
The way he does it is enough to draw a second orgasm out of you, but your body simply gives out. A few final trembles and jerks, then you slump limp onto him.
Sighing out deeply, he caresses over your back and settles back comfortably with you. Your brain shuts off at the same time and are on the brink of falling asleep until he speaks up, voice low and dangerous.
»That‘s not all, doll… gonna stay the whole night, aren‘t ya?«
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←MASTERLIST
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I'm thinking a couple of different Bruce Wayne wedding thoughts right now
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One is Alfred getting ordained online so that he can marry the two of you in a private ceremony
The other one is marriage of convenience with Bruce that takes place at a drive through in Vegas
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magicbystarlight · 1 day ago
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My Omega — Part Three
Alpha!Bruca Wayne x Reader
Part One Part Two
Summary: You had no other choice but to visit the Mating Match Services Department. You didn’t expect it to follow you home.
Warnings: 18+, dark fic, sparring, angst. Minors DNI.
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No, the beast inside him hissed as your back smacked against the mat once again. It clawed at the bars of its enclosure, demanding release with your delayed breath. Bruce shut it out. One second. Two. A deep inhale. The wind had been knocked out of you, that’s all. You were back on your feet in seconds, leg kicking at his undefended stomach. 
Training had become a part of your daily routine. He wanted, needed, you to be able to defend yourself. The Alpha hated it. There was no need for you to know how to throw punches. No need for you to learn how to take a few yourself. He was your protector. He was the Batman. He would keep you safe.
Bruce knew he couldn’t.
The blow landed with less power than you’d intended and he caught your foot before it’d retreated fully. He expected you to try to tug it free, but you surprise him as you push it forward and leverage your weight to make him lose balance. It’s enough to recover your foot from his grasp. The gleam of victory is short lived. Bruce rushed forward, tackling you to the ground beneath him. No amount of hip thrusts could dislodge him. When your nails began to scrape at his skin, your wrists were imprisoned above your head.
Were he anyone else, you might’ve been able to escape. 
Your body relaxed in surrender beneath him. His fingers uncurled around your wrist.
The beast rattled against its bars again.
Your head rose to leave the softest of kisses at the corner of his lips. But his blood burned and the air thickened in his lungs. Breath, warm and inviting, fanned across his jaw. The beast growled, salavating at the memory of your taste. Your lips hovered below his ear. He could almost hear the words that you must have wanted to say. A plea to ease the ache he smelled growing between your thighs. The beast purred. My omega. My omega.
The whisper was featherlight.
"I forgive you."
The earth moved beneath him. His back hit the floor hard enough that his breath stagnated. His mind couldn’t process. I forgive you. Forgive him? She forgave him? For what? Pinning her down? The sparring lessons? The life he’d trapped her in?
You were on top of him, thighs straddling his waist. Divine in black clothes with hair braided and tied out of the way. Sweat clung to every inch of exposed skin. Instict led his palms to grasp your hips. Your eyes, god, your eyes. He knew their color. Knew how they looked terrified. Awed. Blissful. But not whatever they were now. This was new. You leaned down, fingers brushing his cheek. "It wasn't your fault," you whispered, "but I forgive you for it all the same." Your lips pressed against his for a moment. And then they were gone. His hands fell from your legs and you slipped away.
His lungs burned as he gasped his first breath.
The news broke late afternoon Friday. Every phone, computer, tablet, and television taken over by shaky footage of Joker turning himself in. The chaos of the Asylum interjected with maniacal laughter.
Gordon hadn't needed to turn on the Bat Signal. Batman had been waiting there. The crowd outside Arkham was held just behind its gates, the road leading in lined with haphazardly placed barricades. Bruce couldn't hear the shouts and jeers and pleas over the sound of the bike, but he could guess their fears, whatever they were, were justified. 
He was led down the familiar path to the visitor area for patients not trusted to meet anyone face-to-face. The last time he'd been here was speaking with Riddler, trying to sniff out any information on how Joker had escaped. The metal shade rose, revealing the marred face he'd memorized from his nightmares. It smiled. 
"Good to see ya, Bats."
The laughter plucked at taut nerves. "How do we reverse it?"
“What? No foreplay? Bet your Omega loooooves foreplay.” Batman gave no response, but his clenched jaw was answer enough. “Oh, they do, huh? Between old friends, tell me: boy, girl, something in between?”
“How do we reverse it?”
Joker’s tongue clicked and his eyes rolled. “You know, I thought you’d be more fun after getting laid.”
Batman turned his back. This was a waste of time. More games. 
Joker snickered. “If there was a way to reverse it, would you actually do it?”
Batman hit the button, the buzz muted in the cell. “In a heartbeat.”
“Even if it means hurting your little Omega?”
Bruce's breathing staggered. Not you. Not you. “What do you mean?”
“It was a nasty little thing I worked up. Taken quite the toll on this city. A few human rights violations and what not. But everyone’s adjusted. And those Omegas—they’re down right happy, aren’t they? After that bond kicks in, of course. Can you, haha, can you imagine the sort of psychological damage it would do to them to rip that happiness away and leave ‘em with only the trauma?”
The door creaked as it slid open.
“It was bad, wasn’t it? What you did to your sweet Omega. That’s what happens when you try to fight it. Made that trait especially, haha, especially for you.”
Joker’s laughter followed Bruce even as the door separated them. Over the buzz of the officers, the roar of his engine. It rang in his ears as he eased into his bed—your bed—watching your chest rise and fall as your head rested against the ball you’d made of his shirt.
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Don’t take my sunshine away.
Part 4
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Warning ⚠️; Blood, murder, mental breakdown
Pairing; Bruce Wayne/Male Reader
Summary; Ra’s al Ghul is in Gotham, escaping Batman, Nightwing and Robin only to face you and you have to face the ugly truth when you realize someone stole Jason’s body.
~~~~~~~~~~~
To say you hated Ra’s al Ghul and his league would be a euphemism. Bruce was still marked by his time among them, his flesh still covered in scars and his sleep with nightmares. Not only that but Ra’s had more than once been a pain in your ass. He and his daughter, both were on your list of most hated people.
Thankfully, Bruce always knew how to reassure you and make you safe when they were around. After all, Thalia was his ex from before Bruce and you fell in love and she always was flirting with him. You trusted Bruce and knew he was faithful no matter his past, but Thalia easily got on your nerves by going after your husband.
And that week you could only remember your hate and disgust of them as Ra’s was spotted with his assassins. Dick came to help the second he heard the news. Every night, Bruce went out with the boys trying to find and catch him. The thought of Tim facing a master assassin filled you with dread and fear. What if you were to lose another son?
No.
Bruce would never let something like that happen again. He wouldn't let Tim get hurt. After losing Jason and almost you and Tim, Bruce had changed. He still was against killing but had become more reckless, marking the worst kind of criminal with his sigil. They would often die in jail.
It had deepened the rift between Bruce and Clark, leading to many disagreements and altercations between the two heroes. You had always stood by Bruce, telling him he was doing the right thing.
And now you could only wonder if it was the reason behind Ra’s presence in the city.
That morning when the boys came back from patrol, you could see on their faces that Ra’s had once more escaped their grasp. You welcomed them back with open arms and the first aid kit ready. Thankfully only Bruce needed some care, the boys were fine but upset and you understood them.
Once they were tucked into bed and you were alone with Bruce in yours, your husband broke down. You held him in your arms as he held you for dear life. You whispered sweet words in his ear, caressing his hair and kissing his face. You were careful around his injuries and bruises, not wanting to cause more pain. Once Bruce had calmed down, he stayed in your embrace as he explained himself.
Ra’s didn't target him that night, instead, he went after Tim and Dick. Bruce was still shaking up, body shaking as the adrenaline slowly disappeared and the reality hit him. You held your husband tighter.
- “But nothing happened to them, Bruce. They don't have a single scratch on them, you protected them from Ra’s. You are a good dad.” You told him, your voice barely a whisper as you dried his cheeks. “Do you hear me? You are a good dad and you kept our kids safe and I know you will always bring them back home.”
Bruce had smiled weakly, thanking you. You two cuddled more and you admired him under the morning light. So many scars and bruises and you knew each of them by heart. You could even name what or who caused them.
You stayed awake, watching over Bruce as he slept in your arms. His head rested on your chest as he listened to your heartbeat before falling asleep. You kept brushing his hair with your fingers, making sure no nightmare disturbed him.
Of course, nothing could stay calm forever.
The following night, you couldn't sleep at all. Bruce’s story kept replaying in your head and how everything could have gone wrong. You also wondered why Ra’s had targeted the kids. It wasn't in his nature to go for the weakest, so why did he?
You sat in the living room, facing the cheminee as you drank some tea while thinking about everything when you heard the floor cracking. You immediately knew it wasn't Alfred, the butler would have announced himself sooner and Bruce definitely was still out.
You froze in fear as you heard Ra’s voice filling the room.
- “Looks like Bruce left you alone, defenceless… at my mercy.”
- “I am anything but defenceless, Ra’s.” You spat back as you slowly got up before turning around to face the assassin.
Ra’s stood tall wrapped in greenish clothes. Your eyes immediately found his sword and you felt fear slowly crawl inside your heart. Bruce had taught you how to defend yourself and you knew how to use a gun, but against Ra’s? You stood no chance of getting out alive.
Your only comfort was that Bruce would avenge you and soon you would be reunited with Jason.
- “What do you want?” You asked, voice colder than ice. “Why did you try to hurt my kids?”
- “So many questions and yet none are the right ones.” Ra’s mocked Ashe approached you. You moved, keeping a safe distance from him, making the other man smile. “Bruce taught you well.”
- “Just like he taught our sons. You won't get away with killing me, Ra’s. If Bruce doesn't avenge me, I know my children will.”
It only made Ra’s chuckles as he shook his head. You two walked around the room, still facing each other. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, hoping it wouldn't be an agonizing death.
- “I see where Jason got it all, not from Bruce, but you. He really is his papa’s son.” Ra’s said almost mockingly.
His words enraged you. Not only was the fucker talking as if Jason was still alive, but also as if he knew your son. Never would Jason stay around people like Ra, if he was alive you knew he would come back to you and Bruce.
So how dare he speak of Jason? How dare he act as if your son was still alive?
- “Shut up! You speak as if you knew my son as if he was still alive. He is dead so keep his name out of your filthy mouth!” You snapped.
- “Are you sure about it?” Ra’s asked, smirking.
It was too much for you.
The disrespect, the mockery and the cruelty of his words made you see red. You didn't think twice and raced toward Ra’s. The man was too surprised by your reaction and you were able to land a punch.
You two fell on the ground, thrashing around and trying to dominate the other. You bit and scratched Ra’s when he had you pinned down. The snake got a few punches on you as well and you felt your mouth filling with blood.
You had managed to throw away his sword and it got stuck under the sofa. Ra’s hands grabbed your neck and you managed to hit him in the balls with your knees. No matter the pain, Ra’s didn't let go and you began running out of air. Lungs burning, you felt your sight get blurry as the assassin was about tonl break your neck. You closed your eyes, awaiting death.
To your biggest shame, you screamed when you heard a gunshot and warm blood splattered all over your face. You fell on the ground with Ra’s in a loud thud, gasping for air as you crawled away. Two strong hands grasped your shoulders and you tensed until you heard Alfred’s voice.
- “Master (Y/N), thank God you are fine. Here, let me help you.” The soft voice of Alfred was enough to calm your nerves as he cleaned your face from the blood. “Why didn't you call for me? Ah! You two are really made for each other, aren't you!”
- “Alfred? Alfred! W-what happened? Ra’s al Ghul, he…” you tried to speak, but your throat hurt like hell.
- “Dead. Thankfully I didn't touch you when I shot his head, but what a mess I made. It will take me hours before getting all that blood off the floor.”
You opened your eyes and looked around. You quickly found Ra’s body lying on the floor in a poodle of blood, half his head missing. Heart racing in your chest, you shivered at the thought of what would have happened if Alfred hadn't shown up.
- “Alfred, you need to…” You began, voice shaking as the butler helped you up before sitting you on the sofa.
- “Already done. Master Bruce and the children are coming back and I have already told the police about the break-in.”
You nodded feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. You kept your eyes on Ra’s body as if he was going to come back to life. His words kept repeating in your head, filling you with doubt.
Before long Bruce and the boys were back and you melted in your husband’s arms as he held you tightly just like Tim. Dick covered Ra’s corpse, making sure you couldn't see it anymore. He stayed behind you, a silent support once the police arrived.
Gordon was at lost for words and you couldn't explain to him the full story. You stayed on the story of the break-in and that you didn't know him, and could not understand why that man tried to kill you. Thankfully Gordon didn't suspect anything and believed you. After all, Gotham was a hellhole so such things weren't out of the ordinary.
But once the police were gone with Ra’s body, you explained the whole story to your family. You kept quiet about how you had accepted your demise and emphasized how Ra’s said Jason was still alive even tho it was impossible.
Just like you, Bruce and Dick were outraged at the thought, denying the possibility. Only Tim believed it. There were so many weird things they saw and fought about, could it really be impossible for Ra’s to have brought Jason back to life?
The idea that that assassin had played Frankenstein with your son terrified you and you almost threw up on the spot. Bruce chastised Tim, but Dick got on his side.
What if…
What if…
The simple possibility was enough for you to need confirmation that Jason was still resting in peace. With the three of you against him, Bruce had no other choice but to agree to dig up Jason’s tomb. It was disgusting, horrible and needed.
You were all silent as you went to Jason’s last resting place carrying each a shovel. It didn't take you long before his coffin was in sight. You almost had a panic attack and it only thanks to Bruce and Tim if you didn't. They held you as Dick opened the coffin and froze before looking at you.
- “It's empty. Its.…” Dick said, voice shaking as you gasped for air. “Jason…”
- “Dick, stop it!” Bruce snapped and got up, walking toward the opened grave. “That unnecessary cruel and…”
You felt your heart drop as you saw Bruce froze and just knew. You got up on shaking legs and ran up to see. Bruce grabbed you, trying to stop you, but you said it. The coffin was dirty and, worse, completely empty. You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks.
- “Where is he? Where is my son?” You screamed, fingers digging in Bruce’s arms as your own body protested in pain. “Who took? Where is my baby?”
- “Easy my love, easy. We are going to find the truth, we are going to find Jason okay? Please calm down my love.” Bruce whispered in your neck as he held you tightly.
You collapsed in Bruce's arms, crying and clinging to him. The boys were talking but you understood nothing. Only your husband's sweet voice reached you even tho you couldn't calm down. The thought that someone had stolen Jason’s body horrified you and you wondered why. Why steal him? Why not let him rest in peace?
But Bruce’s promises were enough to comfort you and you knew your husband would do everything and anything to find back your son. Whoever did it was in for a beating, because such a crime wouldn't be left unpunished.
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weebumochi · 7 hours ago
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YAYYYYYY AS SOMEONE MUSIC OBSESSED THIS MADE ME SO HAPPYYYY I DID A LITTLE MENTAL HOORAY WHEN I SAW THIS ILY ‼️
FIRST OF ALL
I luv your writing omg
Now second, if you want-tho
Concept were Bruce makes a playlist for his partner
LIKE-
pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: fluff, established relationship. words: 983.
a/n: you are so galaxy brained for this one. I'll also be writing these concepts more like headcanons/blurbs just because it's a bit easier to do (and way more fun ngl)
also! I've plugged this playlist before on clean slate but I just have to plug it again because OP captures what I imagine bruce's taste is PERFECTLY with the grunge and nu metal
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now, battinson's bruce definitely doesn't set out with the intention to make you a playlist... at first
bruce is one of those people that has to have music on while they work so he'll be fixing up the batmobile or working out when a song comes on shuffle and he just. starts thinking about you. whether the lyrics express his feelings or he just thinks you'd like the sound, he'll quietly make a note about it and the list just naturally grows on its own
I think bruce is into alt rock and metal—branching into the subgenres a bit as he's feeling out his taste—so expect a lot of music of that vein
(I do like the idea that bruce has also retained some of his parents' music taste which consists of oldies from the 50's and 60's ;-;; he has a lot of respect for jazz and swing and the occasional sappy love song)
for some reason I can't see bruce making you a digital playlist, like I really see him putting in the effort to make you a cd LMAO and he'll scribble on the face of it something like "for you" or "songs you might like" or something unintentionally cheesy so that you can pop it into your car stereo and listen to it in surround sound. he will try to make you something more portable at your behest BUT he insists you have something physical too. not to be soft but he's really adamant about you getting to hold the physical and audial amalgamation of his feelings for you
he is sooooooooo eager to hear your thoughts on the songs too!! I know I said bruce doesn't really set out to make you a playlist but I swear on bruce's electric guitar that that man spends hours combing over every lyric, every singer, and the order of the songs to make sure that it's flawless before he even THINKS about presenting it to you. and you know this loser will still try to be cool about it like leaving it in your vicinity and telling you to check it out whenever you get a chance
there are very few things I think bruce is readily prepped to info dump about but of those few things, cars and music are by far at the top of the list. you'll ask him about one of the songs he put on the playlist and he'll give you the drummer's entire life story just to explain the breakdown during one (1) part of the song
(something something sharing an experience intimately with the one you love something something carrying an arrangement of sounds and words and feelings around with you forever that reach back as far as one moment in one band member's life that resulted in one verse that now perfectly encompasses the love you feel-)
he really does try not to be too bothered if you don't end up liking it but like I said, dude's agonized over every possible aspect of this playlist and even if he doesn't want to show it, he ABSOLUTELY wants you to like it..... he'll very obviously watch you like a hawk when you come to give him your thoughts on it, hanging onto every word
if you like it he is OVER the moon about it. he'll get to work right away on a new one (though he won't tell you) and try to aim for a different vibe so that you have playlists for every mood like he does
(you cannot tell me bruce doesn't have playlists for every mood. he 100% has one just to get him pumped to leave the house for patrol lmao)
he appreciates if you're honest about not liking it too! while music is something very dear to him, there are so many other things that you two can share. it doesn't have to end there. he'll also probably try to make you a playlist of music you gravitate toward more, even if it's out of his comfort zone
if he knows you're lying about liking it he will be crushed. please don't lie abt ur feelings, you can tell him the truth and he'll find a rooftop and cry on it handle it like the adult he is
jk jk but no seriously, if you don't end up liking his song choices or maybe you both just don't share the same music taste at all, it's ok!!! bruce strikes me as the kind of guy who sticks very strictly to his favorite genre and isn't super comfortable branching out but music is a window into his soul, so why can't it also be a window into yours?
he will 100% ask you about your favorite artists and add their music to his usual rotation until he GETS comfortable with it (esp if you're hanging out with him in the batcave. he will hear you get excited and start singing along and laugh under his breath ;-; he might even sing along with you, but you didn't hear that from me)
we also know that bruce has a fucking electric GUITAR and he probably only plays it in his downtime when no one is around, but if you ask him to play for you, he'll... consider it
I headcanon that he wasn't trained in guitar, he just sort of played by ear for years and taught himself until he got decent at it, so he does worry that you won't be impressed by it. but whether you know how to play yourself or not, he would really appreciate any encouragement on your end and probably play for you more unprompted after the fact
(and maybe one day he might write you a song of your own...?)
(there's a box under his bed of failed songwriting attempts from when he was a teenager that will never see the light of day)
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thewitchblue · 23 hours ago
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"Y/N can you maybe, I don't know, not turn into Bruce's dead mother in the middle of an argument?"
Alfred asked with a raised eyebrow. Bruce's mother shrugged, but amusement and mischief shimmered in her eyes. Bruce was speechless.
His mother changed back to her original form: you. You're a shape-shifter, and abuse the shit out of your abilities, mostly for the good of the people. Not today. You smirked at Alfred before turning into him.
"Master Bruce, perhaps you need some time to destress. I can call Y/N to assist."
Bruce still looked haunted. Of course, he knew when he started dating his partner that they were a shape-shifter, but he never expected to see them transform into his dead mother in the middle of an argument over an empty milk carton. Then again, you rarely argued with him.
The children behind him were wheezing with laughter, some crying, and most of them struggling to breathe. The real Alfred clears his throat, but even he is struggling to hold his laughter in. Who can blame them? The scene is so unhinged and outlandish.
You never hid your shapeshifting. They know, the public knows, the press knows. It was no secret. If a reporter leaves you fuming mad, you simply turn into their family members and stare at them with blazing eyes. Your baleful gaze seemed to terrify Gotham as a whole. Your kids applauded every time they see you come their way. It takes the pressure off them when you turn into an actual bear and roar in the face of some poor civilian.
Bruce has seen you transform into just about everything your mind could possibly imagine. Ranging from becoming a second Batman and chasing down confused criminals to a pine tree to fight Ivy in a "plant war," as they call it.
Alfred held an amused glint in his eye as he looked into his own eyes. The real Alfred said,
"Master Bruce, I believe you have a troublemaker on your hands. I will take my leave so Batman can handle them."
Bruce seemed to come to his senses again and he was not happy. He grumbled and pulled you into his arms.
"Never do that again. I wasn't even the one who emptied the carton. Jason did."
Jason scoffed and raised to his defence,
"You know I would never, you Bat Bitch. If it fucked you over, it would be a different story."
Bruce rolled his eyes. He should have known Jason would defend himself. The rest are more likely to take the fall than Jason.
"Maybe it was Dick or Tim. I only caught a glimpse."
You laugh and hit his arm,
"That's bullshit and you know it. Jason is built like a brick house, Bruce. There is zero chance you'd confuse him with Dick and certainly not our little Timmy."
Bruce sighed. He can't pin it on Damian or any of the girls, either. They are too tiny. Dick adds fuel to the fire by saying,
"Hey, I'm a brick house."
You scoff. With raised eyebrows, you look him up and down.
"Dick, you are the twink of the family."
The children watched with amusement as Dick tries to defend himself.
"Twinks are scrawny! I'm muscular."
You snort. He's muscular, but he's not Jason. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Bruce trying to sneak away. Abruptly, you turn to face Bruce. He paused, mid-step with a guilty look. You turn into his dad this time and say with a deep voice,
"Don't try to run away. Come to papa."
Bruce narrows his eyes. He thought he'd be safe from this after marrying you, but evidently, that is not the case. Nobody is safe from the menace that you are. He says,
"You're lucky I love you."
You melt back into your original skin with a grin. With a wink, you reply,
"And you're lucky that I love you. As well as our children who are trying to escape."
Everyone scatters from that point on. Your appearance angrily alternates between various dead family members. Nobody owned up to drinking all the milk, but they all knew it was Bruce.
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