#bruce wayne x reader angst

[c1nnam00n]

how it feels trying to find a fanfic/imagine about a fandom that’s dead and dry

[imaginedisish]

I Want You To Love Me (Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello friends!!! Here is the Bruce Wayne fic I promised!! This is a combination of the last two Bruce x Reader requests I got (reader finding his journal/a big fight with Bruce), so I hope you guys enjoy!! I based this on “I Want You To Love Me,” by Fiona Apple. It felt like it fit. Next post will most likely be chapter two of “Two Weeks,” (my Din Djarin chaptered fic). Also, lmk if you want a part 2 of this with smut. See you guys soon!

Summary: You and Bruce get into your biggest fight yet, which leads you to find something you shouldn’t have seen. 

Warnings: Major mutual pining, lots of angst but eventual fluff. Cursing most likely, mentions of gun shots/wounds/blood/typical cannon violence. Probably some grammatical errors I didn’t catch. 

Word Count: 3,095

The rain violently tapped against the window, threatening to break through the glass and flood the room. You almost wish it would. At least that would stop Bruce’s unwavering tirade on your supposedly irresponsible and dangerous behavior. 

You had gotten a bit too close to one of the Penguin’s bodyguards during a bust at the Iceberg Lounge. You thought you were helping Bruce, keeping the guards off him as he went in for the Penguin. You underestimated their strength and overestimated yours. 

And then, suddenly, as if out of nothing, you were dripping blood. You hadn’t even felt the stinging pain stemming from your waist until a few minutes after the shot had rung out.

You didn’t mean to get shot. That obviously was not a part of your plan. But, it happened. Luckily, the wound was completely external, and only just barely brushed up against you. Alfred was able to patch you up in seconds. It had cost you the mission, but you were simply thankful to be alive. 

Bruce, on the other hand, was unfathomably mad. This was easily the angriest you had ever seen him. Once Alfred closed your wound, Bruce began his assault on your decision-making skills.

“What made you think that was gonna work?” He spits, his brows furrowing as he walks towards you. You watch Alfred back out of the bedroom out of the corner of your eye. You push yourself to sit up against the headboard of Bruce’s bed, grabbing at your side as the wound continues to sting. 

You inhale deeply, shutting your eyes, mincing your words in a way to avoid further persecution from Bruce. “I thought I could take them,” You explain, your voice shaky in a mixture of pain and fear. “I guess I was wrong.” 

Bruce shakes his head as he reaches the foot of the bed. “You guess you were wrong?” He scoffs, his fingers gripping tightly around the footboard, his hands forming fists as his knuckles turn white. “That’s the understatement of the year.” His eyes refuse to break away from yours, ripping into your soul, judging you for the crimes you seemingly committed. 

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes as Bruce’s relentless words fill your brain. He was right. He was forced to stop what he was doing to save you. The Penguin got away, and you were left with less leverage and strength than you had started the day with. You had completely ruined the mission. It was all your fault. 

“I-I’m sorry,” You choke. You pull your knees into your chest, clutching them tightly inside your arms. “I didn’t mean to-,” 

He cuts you off immediately. “But you did, and it cost us everything,” He shouts. He finally breaks his eye contact with you, his head hanging in between his shoulders. You knew this was serious, but not this serious. This was about something else, and you weren’t going to allow him to project his stresses and fears onto you. 

“It happened, and it’s over. We’re going to be fine,” You say, letting go of your legs to swing them around to the side of the bed. You place your feet on the wooden floors below, standing up and walking to Bruce’s side. “We’ll keep moving for-,”

He cuts you off again, his eyes opening as his head turns towards you to meet your gaze. “We?” His voice is harsh and heavy. “There’s no we anymore.”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. His words repeat over and over again in your head. This was far too overwhelming for you to handle, especially at a time like this. You blink just once and an army of tears storm down your cheeks. 

“There stopped being an us when…” He trails off, as if he’s gauging whether he should say what’s on his mind. “When your brother died.” 

You’re immediately brought back to election night. Your brother had just been elected mayor of Gotham. You had convinced Bruce to take the night off, despite his pleas to attend the celebration as Batman, lurking in the shadows. He gave into you, as he so often did, and you both spent the night as civilians. 

And then, all hell broke loose. You watched your brother get shot, and from the wings of the stage, you were unable to do anything. 

What Bruce didn’t realize was that you blamed yourself. Bruce had been right, and had you listened to him, your brother wouldn’t be dead. 

That was the last straw, the thing that set you off. Bruce could attack your abilities, criticize your intelligence, but he could not blame the death of your brother on you. You figured the man who had been your best friend for your entire life would never say something so rude, so aggressive. He took it a step too far, and you weren’t going to let him win now. 

You turn away from him and walk towards the door. You pause, turning to face him, hoping he could redeem himself. “So you’re really blaming all this on me?” You ask, your voice cold, laden with anger. 

Bruce is silent. He doesn’t look at you. He keeps his hands pressed against the footboard of his bed, his back facing you. His silence is deafening. It says more than enough. 

“Wow,” You mutter, forcing your legs to move back towards Bruce. You wanted him to hear you, to see how upset he made you. You stumble as you walk, having forgotten about your injury, and as if by instinct, Bruce rushes over to you. He grabs a hold of your wrist, and you try your best to wiggle out of his grasp, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Why are you helping me?” You question, resentment bursting in each word that falls from your lips. “Aren’t I your problem?”

“No,” He barely whispers, as if he didn’t want you to hear him. His words shock you. If it wasn’t you, then what was it? What was making him act this way towards you?

He guides you through the dark, wooden door of his room and out to the hallway. After a few steps, Bruce stops, and twists the knob of a closed door. The room inside is massive, but not as large as Bruce’s. There’s a canopy bed in the center, dawned in white sheets. Most of the walls are covered in wooden bookshelves, and the ones that aren’t reveal the room to be a pale green. 

It was beautiful, as if it was made for you. 

Once he’s sure you’ve got your footing, he lets go of your wrist. You hate to admit it, but you instantly miss the contact of his skin on yours. It’s a feeling you’ve done your best to fight, a feeling that you’ve pushed down over the years. 

You shove the thoughts to the back of your head and wobble over to the bed. You sit down on the plush mattress. It’s far more comfortable than you had anticipated, and you feel like you’re practically melting into the sheets.

But still, despite the room that’s clearly been made to match your tastes, the warm comforter, and Bruce’s denial that you’re to blame, his words continued to plague you. 

There stopped being an us when your brother died…

You couldn’t hold back anymore. “If I’m not your problem,” You start, immediately regretting saying anything at all. But there’s no backing down now, you have to commit to the role you’ve given yourself. “Then what is? What’s going on?” 

Bruce is silent again. His hands press down into the pockets of his sweatpants as he stares down at his feet. He isn’t going to tell you. He isn’t going to say a single word. You watch him take shallow breaths, one right after another. He finally looks up at you, running a hand through the bangs that lined his forehead. 

But again, he doesn’t say a word. 

He turns towards the door and grabs the knob. His steps are heavy, as if his mind is struggling to control his body. He’s unsure of himself. It’s clear that part of him wants to stay, to apologize, to make things right, while the other part of him is forever trapped in the revolving door of making Gotham a better place. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, forcing him to stop for just a split second. But you already know the answer. There’s a brief moment of silence, where all you can hear is the faint sound of the central air whirling in the hidden vents of the tower. You wonder what else is hiding in this place.

“Out,” He says curtly. You could’ve guessed that. 

And then he was gone. 

——————————————————————————————————————

You’re starting to get restless sitting in the room by yourself. You aren’t tired, especially not when Bruce is out by himself. Sure, you messed up every now and again, but most of the time you were an asset to Bruce. You remember him saying once that he was shocked that he had ever done the Gotham Project without you. All of that was over now, though. 

You decided you’d wait for him in the cave. You needed to finish the discussion. There was no way that this was how things were going to end. And so, you push yourself out of bed, clutching your wound in the process. You were surprised at the lack of pain as you walked towards the door and out into the hallway. The stairs weren’t too much of a problem either. 

“You should really be in bed,” Alfred mutters. You turn your head to face him and smile softly. “Master Bruce asked me to make sure you don’t move a muscle. He’s quite worried about your condition.” 

“I’m fine, really,” You ensure, turning towards the stairs down to the cave. “I’m just gonna head down for a bit.” Alfred nods in response, and you carefully start down the stairs. 

You immediately notice that Bruce’s suit and bike are gone. You knew that it was Batman and not Bruce that had left, but this confirmed it. You had silently hoped that he had just gone for a ride to blow off some steam, but you knew that wasn’t the case. That would never be the case for him. You took a deep breath, hoping that he’d be alright by himself. 

You shuffle against the cold ground, and you make a mental note to wear shoes next time you’re down here. You wondered how Bruce spent so much time in the cave. It was uncomfortable, freezing, and rather unwelcoming. 

Bruce had left his music on. I Want You To Love Me by Fiona Apple reverberates against the uninsulated walls of the room. 

I've waited many years

Every print I left upon the track

Has led me here

And next year it'll be clear

This was only leading me to that

And by that time

I hope that you love me

You Love me

After a few moments of walking around the cave, you finally sit down in a swivel chair in front of a desk. You look down to see a notebook, and you open it up. You start to read through the pages, each filled with data and logs regarding the missions you and Bruce have gone on. It doesn’t seem to be a personal journal, so you continue on. 

But you were completely wrong. 

You hit a less statistical entry. It started normal, discussing this last night out, but then quickly turned into something else entirely. 

It was about you. You know you shouldn’t read it, but you can’t help it. If he won’t tell you what’s going on, you needed to find out for yourself. And so, you started to read the page:

I don’t know what to do. I have to keep her safe. She’s all I have left. If she ends up like her brother, I won’t be able to live with myself. 

She got shot tonight, and it was my fault. I didn’t have her back, and if I just stayed a little closer to her the whole thing could have been avoided. I was so angry with myself that I took it out on her…I made her think it was her fault.  But it wasn’t, none of this ever has been. This, and all of it, is on me. 

I need to get her away from all this. I should’ve never let her join the project. She’s going to be another casualty, another thing I can’t control. The second her brother died, I should have told her to leave me, to leave Gotham. Keeping her here would be selfish. It doesn’t matter that I want her to stay with me, or that she thinks she wants to stay. She deserves to be happy, to live a life that means something. 

I didn’t even know how to speak to her tonight. Her sitting in my bed, bleeding out, it was too much to handle. This is it, this is the last straw.

I can’t tell her how I feel, especially not now. It’s too late for that. And this hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt before.

But I love her, more than words can say. 

You blink away the tears in your eyes and they roll down your cheeks. You were shocked, but it all made sense now. His cold and callous attitude, his silence, the comment about your brother.  None of it was rooted in hating you or blaming you. It was rooted in loving you. 

Your breaths are shallow and uncontrollable. You feel like you’ve just ran a mile, like you hiked up a mountain and then proceeded to fall down the other side of it. Those were the words you had been waiting to hear for years. Your tears drip softly down your cheeks, dropping to the pages of the journal below. 

The sound of a motorcycle screeching off in the distance, followed by the sound of the garage being pulled up, rips you from your thoughts. Your head whips over towards the noise, and you watch as Bruce enters the cave. 

He notices you and your tears immediately, quickly parking his bike and taking off his helmet. He rushes over to you, kneeling down to your level, his hands firmly grasping your thighs in an attempt to comfort you. 

“Hey,” He whispers, his demeanor completely different from before. “I’m so sorry,” He says, repeating the words as if he’s afraid you can’t hear them. 

Bruce turns his head towards the desk and sees the journal. You watch him carefully, noting the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows harshly. He studies the journal a bit more closely, and his eyes widen as he realizes what page you’ve landed on. 

You take a deep breath, ready to apologize as firmly and intensely as you possibly can. You wipe your tears away. “Listen, I didn’t mean-,”

“I love you,” He cuts you off. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest. You’re shocked at his kindness. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter. “You deserve to hear it from me.” 

“Bruce, I-,”

He cuts you off again, “But you need to leave. I can’t lose you too.” You can see the tears welling up in his eyes. There’s a soft, bittersweet smile playing upon his lips as his fights back his tears. “I love you so much, you have no idea…” He trails off, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. He sniffles a bit, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. 

“I love you too, Bruce,” You whisper. “But I’m not leaving,” You say firmly, bringing a hand up to his cheek to swipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb. 

His hands leave your thighs and he stands up. You shiver at the lack of contact, instantly being reminded of the frigid temperature of the cave. You stand up and follow him as he walks over towards the other side of the room. He’s pacing nervously, unsure of what to do or say next. 

“You’re not supposed to love me,” He says, his back to you as he rests his hands against an open spot on a table. 

You shake your head. “I’ve loved you since we first met, Bruce,” You say, apprehensively taking a step closer to him. “And you aren’t going to lose me, I promise.”

He whips around to face you, his eyes red from exhaustion and crying. “You can’t promise that, you know you can’t.” He takes a step towards you, his hand coming up to rest on the nape of your neck. The touch sends chills down your spine. It was something you had wanted to feel for so long. “If I can’t protect you, then-,”

You cut him off this time, “I can protect myself,” You say, shivering as Bruce’s other hand snakes around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. You were just inches away from his face, from his lips. The tension was palpable. “I’m staying. It’s not up for debate.” Your words are final, unwavering, firm. You’re not quite sure how you were able to get them out, given how Bruce continues to close the space between you and him. 

“Why do you want this?” He questions, his breath brushing against your cheek. He looks at you in disbelief. “You could live wherever you want, I’d make sure of that.”

You smile softly. “Because it wouldn’t be living without you.” 

And with that, his lips come crashing down onto yours. The tension resolves itself, melting away as he pushes himself closer to you, as if being flush against you just wasn’t enough. Bruce’s hand makes its way under your shirt, his fingers trailing across the skin of your back. 

His lips part from yours, but his arms keep you pressed against his chest. He pulls you in tighter as his head burrows into the crook of your neck. He’s savoring you, cherishing you, as if in seconds you’ll turn to dust, disappear into nothing. 

His lips brush against your ears. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” He whispers. 

“Me too.”

And now you had it.

And I know none of this'll matter in the long run

But I know a sound is still a sound around no-one

And while I'm in this body I want somebody to want

And I want what I want

And I want you to love me

[simpforfandoms]

to be loved

please send in requests, it’s like the only way I have actual motivation to write. wrote this in an hour after writing a six page essay. sorry I haven’t been active

summary: you want to be lost in him, but not in this way.

pairing: bruce wayne x reader (no pronouns used (at least I don’t think))

genre: angst no comfort because in real life that doesn’t happen.

warnings: no editing

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

“You’re being so much like your father”

“My father was a good man.”

“Oh please, your father was a corrupt business man!”

The conversation is now a full blown argument. It wasn’t about getting your point across. It wasn’t about trying to state your mind. No it was a competition. Who could respond quicker? Who could hurt the other person more? Who would win? No more educated statements, only rash insults.

“Don’t you dare talk about my father that way!” He yells walking toward you, as to challenge you.

You shake your head at his tactics, “Everyone told me you got the worst qualities from your father. The self absorbness, the playboy facade, and the way you can never see when to give up. That you would never make a good husband” You scoff in disbelief. “And I defended you! Never noticing your red flags because you hid them so well!” You cry out

“Oh you want to present yourself as a victim to make yourself feel better? You and I both know you chose this life” He screams at you.

In every argument you have ever had, never once had he screamed at you. In all the rage and frustration, your beloved and devoted husband had never ever been as mad at you as he was now. His eyes were hardened and no matter how deep you looked into them you could find not a once of love. The very realization of this made you sick to your stomach, and you instantly feel tears well. Whether they were from shock, frustration, or sadness, you didn’t know. In truth, you knew you had no right to be upset at his words. You’re the one who started the argument. But some selfish part of you did want to play the victim. Deep down you knew there was truth to his words, not that you’d ever admit it.

“You wanted it until you didn’t.” He states much calmer than before. You assume this is probably because he noticed your tears or maybe it was because he just wanted to stop the yelling.

You shake your head rapidly, as if to stop the tears, “What choice did I have? I wanted you! Not the Batman. And when you told me that you couldn’t- No that you wouldn’t give up the mask, I understood, I really did. And when things started getting tough I was there for you because I love you. And to love you means to love every part of you including Batman. But now it seems you’re consumed by it, him. The man I fell in love with is no longer there. It’s just a shell of a man that once was. I don’t recognize you anymore. I look at you and all I see him”

You look him in the eyes to see anything, anything at all, but you see nothing but a mask. A mask he was putting on. You sigh. Maybe this is the end of it all. You didn’t want it to be. You love him. Hell, you had given your whole life to him. You didn’t go out and explore the world, unlike Bruce who left you for a 7 year journey. But you never once dated anyone else during that time. Remaining faithful. Because you loved him and couldn’t betray him like that even if you were on a break. When he said he had to leave to do something important, you promised him that you would be there when he came back with open arms. You’d know him since you were children, dated since you were teenagers, married since you were adults. Never once have you dared to look at another man. Bruce was the only man for you. You were sure of it. But sometimes you wondered what life would be like if you hadn’t waited for him all those years ago. You often get postcards from your old friends exploring the world. Each and everyone you read with a pinge of envy. Envious that they got to live their life while you’re here in Gotham, still with your Highschool sweet heart. Maybe that’s why you never went to any of the stupid highschool reunions. You knew they would judge you for being in the same spot and relationship you were in all those years ago. They would ask you what have you done? And you wouldn’t know how to respond. Truth is you’ve done nothing with your life but Bruce. He was your whole life. Your whole goddamn universe. But somewhere alone the line you got tired of it. Tired of it all. You felt stuck. And that’s the worse feeling in the whole world. A third wheel in your own relationship. You can’t just leave him because throughout the years it became a kind of codependency. He couldn’t function without you, and you without him. But you can’t do it anymore. It deteriorating you. Can’t he see your sunken eyes from staying up all night waiting for him? Your callused hands from stitching his wounds? Your biten lips from biting them every-time he goes out in fear he might not return? You love him with all your heart but sometimes love just isn’t enough.

He lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. He loves you. He knows that. He knows you better than anyone, but yet he doesn’t know what you want him to do. Perhaps he should do what he wants to do. But what he wants to do is run out and go punch some unsuspecting criminals to blow off steam. What good would that do if when he gets back you might not be there? However this is Bruce Wayne we’re talking about. The Bruce Wayne that is afraid. Afraid that even if he does try to talk it out you’ll admit something that will be harder to swallow than you just leaving unannounced. He wouldn’t know how’d he handle it if you ever blatantly told him you were leaving and why. He can stand you leaving without closure because then at least he can still have hope. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had to accept the truth. That it’s his fault that you’re leaving. So he did what he does best. Leave to go punch some bad guys.

You scoff through tears in disbelief, he had turned away from you to go on patrol. Typical Bruce. You wanted him to fight. To argue. To reassure you that everything was going to be alright. That he still loved you. That he cared. But he doesn’t. Instead he gets into the Batmobile and drives off. You don’t know why you expected more from him. You had almost yelled after him. But you didn’t. Now no amount of words can fix what’s already broken. It’s time you let go of this broken ship before it takes you down with it.

…

When Bruce gets back he’s not surprised that all of your stuff is gone. He anticipated it. But yet it still hurts. A part of him had hoped that you would be waiting when he got home. Opened armed and ready for his apology, like you had done so many times before. This time was different though. You had pulled your heart and soul out to him and he ignored you. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You finally came to your senses that you deserved better. Bruce let’s out a weak smile at the thought of you finally being happy in all the way he couldn’t make you. Your crinkled eyes as you smiled. Your laugh that you thought was the ugliest thing, but the most beautiful thing to him. You deserved to be like that all the time. You deserve it all, he thinks. He is taken back to the harsh reality of the situation by a soft knock. He can’t help the way his heart leaps at the thought that it might be you. But then he opens the door and sees Alfred. His hope instantly fading.

“Master Bruce, I brought you some sleeping tea. As I imagine that it might be hard for you to sleep.” That’s all Alfred says, and places the the tea tray on the bedside table.

Nothing more nothing less. That’s what everyone loves about Alfred. He knows not to bring up you gone because he knows Bruce isn’t ready to talk about it. But he’ll bring him tea to silently let him know that he’s knows and he’s there. Bruce wonders if he had done the same for you. Well comforted you as you were leaving. Reassured you that you’d be okay. He’s glad that Alfred brought him some tea so he can go to sleep where his dreams with you reside. Bruce can’t help but feel the ache in the top of his stomach at the thought of you. Guilt? Sadness? Anger? Perhaps all three. He’s mad at himself for not fighting for you when he had the chance. Guilt for not giving up the stupid Batman. He knew you would do it for him. Had he said the word you would do anything for him. If he had told you to stay you would’ve. Guilt for keeping you in a this relationship for so long when you deserved so much better. His subconscious knew that he couldn’t keep you trapped in a relationship with him forever. So he let you go. He loves you, and you him. But like they always say if you love something you have to let it go. But letting you go it is better than losing the love completely if he continued to drain you. It would grow to become a even more resentful marriage than it already was. At least now there was still love left, and cherished memories not ruined by hate and anguish.

[nouearth]

my favorite scent is you.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).

wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.

notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.

“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”

It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.

Just a little more, and you’ll break free.

It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.

“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”

“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”

“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”

Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”

“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 

“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”

“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”

“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.

“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.

“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”

“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”

“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 

“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 

“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.

You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 

He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.

“Let me take care of you now.”

You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.

Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.

I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…

Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?

You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.

Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.

“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”

The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.

Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…

The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 

As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.

Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.

Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.

After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.

“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.

White musk.

The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.

Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.

“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.

“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.

I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.

He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.

Again, as he throbbed.

And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 

Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.

The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).

His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.

“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.

He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.

Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”

Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.

What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.

Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.

I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.

He was close.

Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.

Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 

“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.

Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.

Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 

“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.

I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.

He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.

Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.

Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.

Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.

“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 

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

[mischieveousmayhem]

Ummi, come back

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mention of death

Synopsis: All he wants is his mom, without her he is falling apart.

a/n: pretty short, my requests are open.

THE MASTERLIST

—

Damian Wayne, a tough kid.

He gets it from his father of course.

But lately he feels like he hasn't been so tough. Which is okay right? Even the toughest people have weaknesses. But this felt worse then any weakness.

It's been a week since he saw the suffering of his dearest mother. He just needed some of her soothing words, or to break down in her warm, comforting embrace. Although if she was here, he wouldn't need that. If she was here, they would probably be on the couch watching some of her favorite movies, or baking cookies with his fellow brothers.

Y/N wasn't his real mom though. Talia was.

But that didn't matter to you or him. That reason being because you treated him better than Talia ever would.

Even though he didn't like you at first, he learned to love you. You had the sweetest heart ever and you cared for him and his fellow brothers like they were your own kids. Scratch that. They were your real kids even if it wasn't biologically. Blood wasn't what made them your children, it was the memories and love.

Secretly Damian was a mama's boy and whenever you two were alone he would show that. Without his mother he is so lost. Of course he has his father, Bruce. But nothing can replace a mother's tender, delicate love.

So alone he sat, in the garden, watching the sunset. In his hands was a picture of your family. You, Bruce, and the boys. The photo was taken at the first dinner after you and Bruce got married. It was so chaotic, but none of you would have changed it for the world because it was one of the families happiest moments. But lately there has been no happiness. You were their ray of sunshine, you gave the boys everything they could ask for to make them happy.

The sunset, the thing that reminds him of his mother. It was beautiful, just like you. But the thing that really made him get reminded of you was the fact you used to sit on this bench together and watch the sunset.

His eyes are red and puffy. Not to mention he is still crying while watching it, missing you so much.

"Oh Ummi," He spoke, "Come back."

[angelltheninth]

Maybe a bit dark and angsty so no pressure but can you write Bruce, Jason, Dick, Clark and Oliver saving their girlfriend from a hostage situation?

A bit on the darker side yeah but nothing I can't write.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayon, Clark Kent, Oliver Queen x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, injuries, hostage situation, happy ending

A/N: Come on, you knew I was gonna make this into a fluffier post.

BRUCE

Is calm while saving you, he doesn't want to give anything away in regards to your relationship. He does flinch a tiny bit when you specifically are threatened, others may not have noticed it but you did. He brushed it off by pretending he was reaching for a weapon but when he helps you up you feel his hand shaking a little. Unbeknownst to others he brushes your cheeks in comfort when he's checking you for injuries.

JASON

Gets very aggressive and reckless when he sees that you're one of the people taken hostage. This is on brand for him so the criminals don't think twice about his behavior. It costs him a few extra punches and bruises because he's not really looking at them, he's looking at you. Afterwards, when you're home you try scolding him for his reckless actions only for him to pull you into a kiss, whining about how scared he was of losing you.

DICK

Tries to find a way to get you out as safely as possible without there being much of a fight. With so many people in the same place there could be injured civilians very easily. When he's told to drop his batons, and you're the one being held by the villain, he does so. It makes you scared, it makes you almost call out his name. He can see how scared you are for him so as soon as one of the bad guys is close to him he takes them down, uses their weapon and rescues you. You're crying but its okay, he's here, you're both okay now.

CLARK

Could easily takes care of the bad guys. They're just human, it's easy for him. He does try to negotiate once, telling them to let everyone go. Once one of them grabs you and point a gun towards you he's done talking. You don't even hear the gun go off, you feel strong arms around you carrying you to safety and eventually being joined by other hostages. You thank him for his rescue, your hand lingering on his a moment too long, his thumb brushing over the ring on your finger before he flies off into the sky.

OLIVER

Keeps a distance so he can take his shots. He scans your face to make sure you're not hurt. One, two, three, four, five arrows from the rooftop and one up close to the jackass who had the guts to threaten you. The moment you're home he's kissing you hard, not even out of his costume, making sure you're really okay. You don't mind if he does a more thorough check do you? To be on the safe side of course, no other motives. Whatsoever.

[c-nstantine]

sense of normalcy

description: Jason & Black!Batmom in four stages of his life

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, death, mommy issues, grieving, talks about Jason's death a lot

Jason: Age 12

Bruce had warned Alfred that there would be a guest joining him and of course, Alfred told Y/N. She was more than excited to have someone visiting the manor. It had been lonely since Dick struck out on his own. He visited but it wasn't the same as having a kid running around the manor. 

"Who might you be?" Y/N said approaching the boy who Bruce helped out of the Batmobile. He was rather lean for his height but his eyes looked like they sparkled as if the world never did him wrong. Y/N felt a pang in her heart and she looked towards Bruce who avoided her gaze.

"Jason Todd. You're on TV." He recognized the woman from the TVs that were on display in the stores that he passed as he walked down the street. Alfred had rushed back upstairs to fix the young boy something to eat.

"Sometimes, how would you like to stay with Bruce and me?" She had already decided that he would stay. She couldn't let the boy go back to whatever back alley Bruce found him on. 

"I'd love to," The boy's eyes twinkled once more as he smiled at Y/N.

Jason: Age 16

Jason was a good kid. He promised Y/N that he would be a good kid. He got good grades, and he excelled at English. Entering his teenage years, he only grew closer and more protective of Y/N but Y/N still saw him as the lean little boy who tried to steal the hubcaps off of the Batmobile. 

"Why is my son here?" Y/N asked, not even bothering to sit in the principal's chair. Her son had not a scratch on his face but he did have a bruised knuckle that definitely wasn't from patrol.

"He got into a fight, Mrs. Wayne," The principal of Gotham Academy said a bit smugly. Jason hated it here. He loved the teachers and learning but the kids were assholes. Not all of them, but the ones who thought he didn't belong because he wasn't born to the money. Kids could be cruel.

"Jason?" Y/N tilted her head towards her son, softening her gaze.

"He was making fun of me for being adopted and my accent," Jason spoke differently than the preppy kids of Gotham Academy but Y/N always encouraged him to speak how he wanted. His words were a part of him and he shouldn't have to change it for anyone.

"So my son was being bullied and he defended himself. Does that sound good to you, Principal Paulette?" Y/N gave the fakest smile known to the man while brushing faux loc behind her ear. 

"It sounds perfect, Mrs. Wayne," Principal Paulette simply groaned. 

"C'mon, Jason. We're getting ice cream." She smiled and waved for her son to follow her out of the office.

-

"Bruce is gonna be upset you're rewarding me," Jason said mixing his bowl of scooped chocolate chip ice cream together until it became the consistency of soft serve. He couldn't meet her eye yet. He felt like he had disappointed her and that maybe she regretted keeping him. What he didn't know is that he could never do anything that would make her not love him.

"You know I'll always love you, right? No matter what those kids say," Y/N said reaching over the table to ruffle his hair. He styled every morning with an absurd amount of gel but it didn't look like him.

"I know, ma, I know," He heard the words and wanted to believe them but he already decided that he'd leave and find his real mother. In his mind, she wouldn't miss him anyway, right?

"Good 'cause you my baby boy," She said with a bright smile.

-

He was in pain and cold. His mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. The faint beeping of the bombs was heard in the background and tears fell from his eyes as he realized this was his end. This was it. He was gonna meet the great big man in the sky and he didn't get to say goodbye to Y/N. He could die with disappointing Bruce but Y/N. Y/N had never seen him as more than a boy because that's what he was. He was just a child who didn't get to say goodbye to his mom. 

Jason: Deceased

Y/N was pacing a hole in the carpet. She stood in the study of Wayne Manor waiting here something, anything, back from Bruce. He hadn't contacted her since he left to find Jason and that was days ago.

"You said he'd come back," She said as Bruce walked through the grandfather clock entrance of the study. She noticed there was no Jason, she could hear his laughter like he normally did when he returned from a night out.

"Y/N," Bruce could see his wife about cry right in front of them. She tried to blink away tears so that they wouldn't fall down her brown cheeks. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping with Jason missing.

"You went to go get him. Where is he?" Y/N asked again with a bit more authority. 

"Honey, sit down. Alfred, bring her some tea," Bruce was trying to put the words together but Y/N simply fell apart on the couch. 

"No, don't tell me that, "She knew exactly what that meant, "He was just a baby," She whispered as Bruce held her in his arms. 

Jason: Age 22

"Ma?" Jason called for her as she was putting Martha and Alfred down for a nap. Y/N walked out of the nursery and closed the door behind her. His mom had aged a little since she took him home but not too much. Sure she had grey hairs mixed into her silk press but she was still the exact same woman who loved him at first sight.

"Yeah, Jason," She looked up at her son with a bright smile. Jason now towered her but he'd always be her baby boy. 

"I'm sorry," Jason said quickly. He had been holding it in since he died. He never told anyone but in the last moments before his death, he regretted not telling Y/N he loved her more and how much he'd miss her.

"What are you sorry for?" Y/N asked tilting her head slightly. 

"I'm sorry for leaving that night. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you," Jason's voice cracked as he moved to hug his mom. He didn't know how much pain one decision could cause.

"Oh, baby," She said rubbing his back. She felt tears coming to her eyes as she felt his on her cheek. 

"I'm sorry, ma, I'm so sorry," He muttered over and over again. His face had flushed red against her brown skin. Bruce had seen the moment but decided it was best for him not to interfere but he was happy to see Jason working through his emotions.

"You're here now and that's all I've ever wanted, okay? How about some ice cream?" Y/N said pulling away gently. Ice cream was one of her biggest pregnancy cravings so now they have a lifetime of Bluebell in their deep freezer.

"Yeah, ma," Jason spoke with a small smile. He was finally back to a sense of normalcy. 

[kurorama]

Under Wraps

Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader

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

WC: 1.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fingers clenched on their own as you felt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

anyways that was that….

[ynscrazylife]

THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

//

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

//

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

[millyhelp]

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ

☣NSFW ⚛18+ ☹angst ☼fluff ☠dark cencent

Oneshots

☼Focus

☣⚛Hypnotized (Brazilian!Reader)

☣⚛☼Better than him (friends to lovers)

☼Doctor!reader

☹☼Christmas dream

☼Que Dios te bendiga (Latin!Reader)

☼Dumb girlfriend

☼☣⚛Kiss of the sun.

☹It all fell down.

Headcanons

☹☼How would he react if he found out you were pregnant?

☼First time seeing snow (Brazilian!Reader)

☣⚛☹☼Frat!Jason thoughts

Jason AU's

☣⚛☹☼CEO!Jason ◇ ◇

☣⚛☹☼Ex!Jason ◇ Just pretend (coming soon...)

☣⚛☹☼Pirate!Jason ◇

☼Brazilian!Jason (video)

Smut promps ☣⚛

(list one) ↴

12. “Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know about this.”

22. “I’ll be gentle, baby. Don’t worry.”

39. “What the fuck? Do that again. I liked it.”

24. “I never knew you liked being spanked.”

20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”

26. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Midnight conversations.

Forgiveness

Cure

Series.

Back to you masterlist.

Oneshot

Coming soon...

Headcanons

Coming soon...

Dick AU's

Dilf!Dick ↴

☣⚛☹☼DILF!Dick Grayson

☼Jhonny Grayson (physical appearance)

☼Other guy

☣⚛Lock the door

☼Sweet Mornings

Smut Promps ☣⚛

(list one) ↴

14. “If I have to pull over, you’ll be walking funny for the next week.” and 10. “Clothes. Off. Now.”

15. “Could you be any wetter?”

38. “Quit eyefucking me and get over here so you can actually fuck me!” and 45. “How are you so oblivious?  I’m trying to tell you I’m fucking horny!”

35. “Ooh, you’re not wearing any underwear. Trying to tell me something?” 21. “Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

[c1nnam00n]

me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines

[xoxo-mylove]

Missing Something You've Never Had

(Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Batmom!Reader x Batboys)

*NOT EDITED*

Word count: 5,162

Synopsis: You walk in to your home to find your family looking a t you like a stranger. Your family’s counterparts discover the life they could have had and you severely miss your version of the batboys.

Warnings: Angst, LOTS and lots of angst, self-hate, Bruce Wayne’s destructive thoughts, parental issues, mommy issues and hell daddy issues too, very sad in general, I’m sorry in advance, fluff toward the end

(*A/N: I lied in my last post lol I definitely was not writing but I finished this very sad batmom one-shot that I hope will make up for it before going into this new year! I won’t guarantee another one-shot soon but I will promise you it will be an Al Ghul!Reader! So be on the lookout!! Anyway, keep in mind this Bruce is very much canon Bruce Wayne who is allergic to affection. I hope you enjoy lovelies)

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Coming back from work and seeing your family look at you like you were an alien was definitely...shocking. And yet right there they were. 

After not seeing your family in the kitchen once you arrived home. you immediately went down to the Batcave.

Walking down the steps and approaching your husband with a smile you didn’t even hear Barry’s shout  ‘Wait Y/N!’ before you embraced your love and felt him stiffen under your touch.

It seems that your action ensued silence over the room and you slowly let Bruce go and looked around the room to see your boys looking at you with obvious shock underneath their cowls and masks.

 Damian looks at you with an expression you haven’t been faced with since when he first arrived at the manor. Your baby boy looking at you with suspicion and contempt was staggering. This was the first crack that formed in your heart.

Then there was Tim. Your Tim, looking at you with a guarded appearance and eyes screaming caution. Like you weren’t supposed to be there. Your boy who would immediately come to you after his night out and seek a hug. Now it was like he was looking through you, creating yet another crack in your heart.

Next was Jason whose face added to your heartbreak when he merely glanced at you. Not even sparing you an extra look as if you weren’t someone on his radar. Your Jay-bird looking at you with such indifference and lack of love.

And your first son. Your oldest looking at you with no love but concern. Not concerned for you but for his brothers. As if your mere presence was disrupting something. As if there is no reason you should be there.

No reason.

You glance back at Bruce to see him looking at you with that stare. The guarded batman stare. Now you feel dizzy. Quickly glancing towards Barry not wanting to see your Bruce looking at you like that, you face Barry with widened eyes and a flushed face. 

Barry looking at you with genuine sympathy says the words that confirmed all your worst fears. “This isn't your family Y/N. They’re from a different universe” 

God, you're going to be sick.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

After seeing your shocked face and the uncomfortable, suffocating silence in the room Barry took you back inside the manor to explain to you and Alfred what happened. Leaving your fa- leaving them in the cave.

Apparently, Barry had a run-in with reverse Flash and somehow your family was sucked into a wormhole transporting them into another universe while taking a version of your family in that universe here. in your universe..... It was all very confusing and devastating to hear and you shed a few tears.

You had to have asked Barry a dozen questions about this other universe about where they could be, how this happened, and most importantly, how you were going to get them back. Barry told you that he and the league are figuring it out and will find them and you believe him.

So here you are sitting at dinner with a different version of your family in silence. It actually makes you want to cry.

Right now the boys would be telling you and Bruce about their day and catching you both up on their lives. Instead, they’re looking down at their plates while awkwardly glancing at you and hurriedly glancing away once you make eye contact with them. 

It’s horrible.

And don't even get started on Bruce, that man has made a point to not even glance at you the entire duration of dinner. Just sitting there with a blank face and clearing his throat every few minutes.

It’s horrible.

Having enough of the silence (felt like knives in your back not being able to talk to your family) you clear your throat and immediately all their eyes shoot towards you.

Flushing from the attention your smile hesitantly chooses to try and talk to them instead of silence. They are still your family. They’re still your boys and husband. You’re just not their person right now. And until you can see your family again (you will see them again) you still care for these people and will do anything to make sure they are comfortable in their home.

“I- I know this is- well this situation we are in is very.... umm well it’s very”

“Weird” Dick blurts out before he can stop himself, earning a look from Bruce whose attention has been solely on you since you opened your mouth.

“Yes, Hon- I mean yes, Dick It’s very weird. But this is--- no matter what universe you all are from it’s still your home. And I don’t want you guys to be uncomfortable in your own home so if you have any questions just.... well just ask.”

the silence stretches out between you all before you hear a voice from your left.

“What exactly are you to us- I mean what are you to them?” Tim asks.

The question itself was easy to answer before but now in front of the boys who you know have got through horrible and traumatic things just the same as yours. You don’t know how they will react especially Bruce, Mr. Idontdesrvelove. (Though he’s gotten so much better with you and the kids)

“Well, I'm your guy’s mom.”

Silence. Deafening silence and then Alfred thankfully arrives, saving you from the conversation you know you’ll have to have at some point. But not today. Not when it’s so fresh. 

“Miss Y/N, you do have an early day tomorrow so I think it’s all time we retire to bed. I'm sure you all are especially tired from your night.” Alfred says with a sympathetic tone you are so grateful for.

“Of course” You stand up from your chair drawing attention to you once again.

You face your......you face the boys and smile softly and bid them goodnight. Hoping that when you wake up that this is all a bad dream and Bruce will be snoring in the bed and you hear your kid's voices outside the door.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Bruce’s POV

This is all very uncomfortable. Bruce has a wife whom he’s never met in his life and who is the mother to his children.

Bruce watches you walk up the stairs to a bed that they share or he shares with you. The other him.

Ever since you hugged him in the Batcave and looked at him with eyes so tender and full of love Bruce couldn't help but feel a small amount of jealousy of....the other him. He has it all. He has children and a wife. Who loves him. He must not be as fucked up as he is. Your Bruce probably still has his parents or didn't witness their murder and has healthy coping issues. Yeah, he's envious of this other him.

Bruce looks to his kids to see them also confused staring at you. Is this what your kids have as a mother? Someone to go to for that soft and soothing guidance. How he remembers his mother was to him. He’s not just envious of the other Bruce but envious for his children. His rampant thoughts are stopped when Alfred- your Alfred speaks again. 

“master...Master Bruce, I've set you up in the spare room by master Jason’s. It is ready for you to retire in whenever you see fit. Boys your rooms are... well they  are ready for you but if this manor is different ill be happy to show you the way.”

“Don't worry Alfred this manor is the same as ours” Jason speaks up for the first time since arriving.

“Very well boys if you need me I'll be in the kitchen preparing tea for Miss Y/N” Alfred takes his leave and the boys instantly start up their conversations.

“This is freaky..” Tim says while glancing at his Bruce and brothers.

“Yeah. We have a...mother in this universe” Dick hesitantly says, like saying the word ‘mother’ is all but confusing to him.

“yeah, I probably don’t get snuffed by Joker in this one” Jason offers sarcastically. Bruce closes his eyes at this and leans back in his chair. He saw Jason’s Robin costume. Identical to the one in their Batcave. Maybe this universe isn’t as good as he thought if your Bruce still couldn’t save Jason from his fate.

Damian ever the blunt kid speaks Bruce's thoughts, “Tch, I don't think so Todd. I saw your infamous Robin costume. Identical to the one in our universe” He says snidely. 

“Yeah, me too evil spawn. It’s called a joke.” Jason responds while rolling his eyes.

“Boys. Enough” Bruce says with a firm tone that stops all conversation.

“Let’s go to the sitting room we have a lot to discuss.” Bruce stands up and leaves the kitchen hearing the sound of footsteps and disgruntled murmurs trailing after him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Bruces POV

The boys and he have been talking about how to get back to their universe for a while. Bruce has made it a point to not bring up you in the conversation. Silence just ensues and awkward answers when you are brought up.

Talking with Dick about using the Batcave to contact this universes League and help get home he sees Damian get up off the chair and stride to a cabinet filled with...CDs? Damian grabs four of them and hesitantly grabs another looking at it for a second before putting it underneath the other four and walking back to the couch.

“I found CDs that have our names on them.” He announces effectively stopping all conversation and capturing all of our attention.

The silence stretches out before Dick speaks up, “Should we watch them.” When everyone is still silent he hurriedly explains himself “Well, I just mean are you curious about how the other versions of us live. Especially with Y/N”

It's silent again until suddenly Jason stands up ripping the CDs from Damian's hands (making him scramble up to get them back before Dick scolds him) and puts one in effectively shutting everyone up and their attention is drawn to the TV.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Dick’s POV

This whole day has been extremely weird and uncomfortable. Especially uncomfortable to know that another version of him has another mom. And yet as he watches the home video play out the feeling of uncomfortableness leaves and jealousy replaces it.

He watches Bruce and you record yourself making him his birthday breakfast. Something that sounds so simple and normal it makes Dick’s heart break a little.

“BRUCE STAWP!” You squeal dodging the whipped cream he tries to get on your face. “What? You can do it to me but I can’t do it to you?” your Bruce asks with a smile and whip cream plopped on his nose. “Yes, it is fair because I am the one making our son's birthday breakfast,” You say looking into the camera with a big beautiful smile. The boys and Bruce see your Bruce pick up the camera and record you putting the finishing touches on your Dick’s pancakes. “It’s six a.m love, the kid is still drooling right now” They hear Bruce say behind the camera.“Still Bruce, we need to sing happy birthday first thing in the morning!” your say with a childish whine. While balancing the tray of breakfast food and smiley pancakes in a tray.

Dick feels his throat close up and the need to run away while watching the video. This love that he sees you have for your Dick and the care your Bruce is showing is something he has never experienced since living with Bruce and yet misses. Can you miss something you’ve never had? Because this is definitely how he feels. Dick remembers the touch and love of a mother and watching this just reminds him of the feeling.

The boys watch as Bruce records you opening the door to your Dick’s room and see little dick sleeping with drool on his pillow.“God, he’s going to be embarrassed when he’s older and watches this video” they hear Bruce say with a quiet laugh. You turn and give him a fake stern look and crouch down by Dick’s bed and softly shake him awake. Your Dick slowly opens his eyes and focuses on you. His face instantly lit up and a smile breaks out on his face. “Mom!” he yells out happily pulling the covers back while you set the tray on his lap. Giving him a kiss on the cheek good morning. They hear Bruce laugh and tell Dick happy birthday while giving him an affectionate head shake. The boys and Bruce watch Dick and the two of you sing ‘Happy Birthday’, eat pancakes together, laugh and smile, and basically be a family. The video ends with Dick taking the camera from Bruce and whispering into the lens saying, “This is the best Birthday ever!” with a cheesy smile on his face.

Dick is uncharacteristically silent while everybody looks at him. He finally stands up and takes his CD out putting someone else’s in drawing their attention back to the TV. 

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Damian’s POV

This whole thing is ridiculous. Everyone is getting all sappy over a single woman who none of them know. Damian sees this as stupid and it quite frankly makes him angry. He already has a mother. he doesn't need to listen and watch himself with a strange woman. 

And yet just like Dick, the anger turns to sadness and he also becomes jealous. Watching another version of himself receive the love and attention that Damian has only seen in movies and read in books. And yet as he watches him and his siblings fight to open presents he is reminded that he is just a kid.

Who just wants a family.

“Everyone! Everyone!” Video you calls out to your children currently fighting for presents. “Because this is Damian’s first Christmas with us he will be opening the first gift,” you say in a tone that makes all your children concede and watch Damian open one of his gifts. As you hand your Damian a gift wrapped in Christmas Robin wrapping and a black bow he immediately dives in and opens it to find a collar. Confused he looks at you and at his father to see you both smiling at him, chuckling. Your Damian watches you leave the room and come back in with a black kitten with white paws in your arms. Damian lets out a loud gasp and runs to you taking the cat in his arms. The camera zooms in on his blinding smile and his small whisper of “Thank you Ummi” to you. The boys and Damian watch as you give him a big kiss on his forehead and Bruce giving him a big hug.

The silence stretches out between the group because everyone knows that in their universe Damian doesn't receive Alfred the cat in such a memorable and sweet way.

Damian especially is just staring at the screen yearning for that motherly love. And a bad thought crosses his mind of what if they just stayed here. Damn the consequences. He wishes for this mom.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Tim’s POV

Tim’s always been curious and once he saw you giving an affectionate hug to Bruce and the pain that went across your face when his brothers and he looked at you with indifference.

 Watching his brother's faces while they watched their home videos he was a little scared of his.

 His mother has always been distant and he’s never really experienced motherly love but watching you in the home videos, he’s scared to see you with him and be consumed with jealousy like his brothers. Scared to watch you love a version of himself and not experience that love. 

And yet he watches his video and is filled with that feeling anyway.

“Hellooo whoever is watching this home video!” you say with a smile. “It’s probably us sweetheart,” Bruce says popping into the frame. You hurriedly move the camera away from him and talk to the camera. “Ignore him. But today we are at Tim’s school watching him graduate!” you say with a happy squeal and turn the camera to zoom in on Tims's figure clad in his cap and gown, oblivious to your recording him. “Tim is graduating with high honors and receiving multiple awards tonight” the boys and Bruce listen to your Bruce say in an obviously proud tone. The boys watch as multiple names are called and you both politely clapping for every student. And once you hear Tim’s name you both go ballistic. While as ballistic as your Bruce could go by whistling and clapping louder than ever with a proud grin. But for you, you're screaming at the top of your lungs, on the verge of sobbing, shouting “My baby boy!” earning looks from bystanders and laughs from your husband. The video ends with your Bruce recording you giving your Tim the biggest hug and kiss on the cheek while he smiles a bashful smile and celebrates with you and his dad.

Tim’s thoughts run rampant so much that he needs to lie down. He’s never felt this bitter and angry. His Bruce didn't come to his graduation and he’s watching everything he’s ever wanted happen on screen.

 It's not right and it's not fair. 

Why does your family get you and they don’t?

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Jason’s POV

He already knows what’s going to be on that CD. He knows how he’ll react and he knows that he mentally can’t do that right now. He can’t watch something that he died for (a mother's love) play out in front of him.

He won't do it. 

“I’m going to bed” Jason suddenly announces. It's suffocating in the living room and he can’t deal with looking at anybody’s face any longer.

He doesn't stick around for an answer he just goes up to his...other his’s room. He expects to see a room identical to his but once he opens the door he sees a completely different room.

This one looks lived in. Like someone uses it. In his universe, he rarely goes into his childhood room. Too many memories and too many feelings he rather not face. But this room. There are recent pictures of him. Multiple pictures of him and his... family all happy together.

He hurriedly looks away and strips himself of his extra gear and lies on his..or his bed in silence. He feels uncomfortable very weird.

He turns on his side prepared to close his eyes and hopefully not wake up for a long time when he sees it. On his bedside table is a framed photo of you and him. He’s in front of you smiling a cheesy bright smile (missing teeth prominent in the photo) dressed in a Peter Pan costume. Your arms are wrapped around his neck with a beautiful grin on your face dressed in a Tinker bell costume. 

It’s so stupid but it makes him smile like a fool because at least a version of himself finally received the love of a mother. 

Something he’s yearned for all his life before joker was to have a mother in his life and the thought that he gets that in a different universe is what makes it easy for him to close his eyes and sleep that night.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Bruce’s POV

Jason just left and the suffocating silence returns. 

Bruce sees Dick slowly rise from the couch and tell everybody to go to bed and something about talking more in the morning. He hears his sons rise from the couch sleepily making their way into their rooms and feels Dick linger by the doorway.

“Bruce are....are you going to bed?” he hears the hesitance in his voice and he wonders if Dick was going to ask him a different question but stopped himself. 

Isn’t that the relationship they have? Unable to communicate and ask each other what's wrong.

It’s all his fault.

If he wasn’t so scared he could have found Y/N in his life and his family would have been different.

He would have been different.

he finally finds words to answer his son, “I think...I think I'm going to stay up a little while longer.” he says while turning his profile to him.

Bruce hears him whisper a soft “okay” and walks off into his room for the night. He waits until he hears the door close, to get up off the couch and grab the CD labeled ‘Wedding’.

The mere title makes his stomach drop but he’s always been one to emotionally scar himself. He sits back down to watch the video play out. He releases a strangled sigh when he sees himself in a suit and tie.

“What does the Groom to be have to say on this lovely day” a voice Bruce recognizes as Clark says. He sees himself looking at the camera dressed to impress with a small smile on his face rolling his eyes at his friend's tone. “I'm very happy today Clark” the lucky him responds. “Oh yeah! Why might that be you think?” Your Bruce sighs, “Because I'm getting married to the love of my life Clark.” Bruce hears your Clark release an annoying ‘awwww’ that makes your bruce roll his eyes and shoo him off. He watches the video for a while and he sees the whole league there. He sees his friends as Bruce Wayne and Batman all together for you and your Bruce. He watches your friends and your Bruces friends leave sweet heartfelt messages that you both probably watched later. Alfred's message is what makes his throat constrict. “I’ve known Master Bruce since he was a little boy and I can't tell you how happy it makes me to be able to see him finally share his life with the most graceful woman on this planet. Someone who continues to amaze me with her beautiful character and who I think of as a daughter. I am unbelievably happy that my boy has met you and is going to spend the rest of his life with you. I love you both very much.” With tears building in his eyes, he sees Clark open the door to see you in a white dress with a brilliant smile. When you open your mouth to speak is when the video starts to buffer and stop. 

Bruce sits up in his seat praying that the video starts to work again when it completely pauses on your face. 

The video stopped working. 

And maybe that is the breaking point but the tears fall and he drops his head into his hands. Shoulders shaking and gasping for breath he cries. He cries because of the life he could’ve lived. The person he could have lived it with.

He cries for the mother his kids could have had and the presence that could have helped them through their lives. His kids. His wonderful kids deserved that and he hates himself for not giving that to them.

He also hates himself for not letting himself have that.

He doesn't know how but he eventually gets up off the couch and walks to the extra room by Jason’s. He passes your room on the way and just stands in front of it. This is the room you share with him. The other him. 

He wonders what it feels like to sleep in another person's arms for years. He never knew he could want something like that. 

He doesn't sleep that night. Not even a little bit.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Y/N’s POV

Waking up today felt like a dream for you. You closed your eyes relishing in the warmth you expected to be there only to feel cold.

Your eyes snap open. Oh yeah, he’s not here. 

They’re not here. And yet they are. They are all inside the manor in their rooms but they are not yours. They are not your boys or husband. They are versions of your kids and best friend.

But that doesn't mean you can be weird to them you scold yourself.

This is weird to them too. This woman they’ve never met in their lives claiming to be their mother and wife. You’d be freaked out too.

Right there in your bed, you swear to at least talk to your kids. Even though they are not your kids you could never not love any version of them. Getting ready for the day you walk downstairs to see them all inside the kitchen. 

Immediately all their eyes draw to you and you smile at them softly. “Good Morning,” you say to them all, failing to catch Bruce’s eyes. You hear soft greetings back while getting your coffee ready. 

“I’ve warmed up the car for you Miss Y/N” you hear Alfred say.

“Oh thank you! I'll be leaving in a few,” you reply back gratefully. You never wake up early enough to do it yourself. Bruce usually does it for you during the cold months.

“Where are you going?” you hear five different voices say all at once. You turn around to see them all looking expectantly at you. 

Shocked that they’ve said more than three words to you. It takes you a while to reply. 

“Oh, I um I'm going to work in early today, I'm an architect.” The silence and surprise in their eyes is kind of insulting. They must notice you take offense because Dick hurriedly tries to explain their shock.

“Not in an offensive way course. You seem very smart. It’s just being an architect in Gotham City. How do you find work?" he asks.

“Oh well, I usually deal with orphanages and hospitals in the city. And because it’s Gotham those are the most important buildings,” you say with a sad like chuckle.

“so you are not a vigilante?” Damian suddenly asks. The question receives looks from his brothers and father but a laugh just escapes you.

“Oh god no, the only vigilante work I do is cardio and that is enough in itself,” you say with a smart smile. They all give chuckles probably humoring you. Before you're hit with the reminder of leaving for your job 

“Shoot it’s seven! I- I gotta go but call if you need anything and.. and if you guys find anything out.” You look to see them all give you a nod and bid you goodbye before you are out the door.

Progress? hopefully.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Bruce’s POV

It’s been hours since you left and now he and the kids are at league headquarters trying to get back home. And bring your family home. Even though they may not want to leave. As selfish as it is he wants to stay. Even though he knows he’s not yours he would love to feel an ounce of what it's like to be loved by you. 

But because he knows you are deserving of the love back he knows he has to get your Bruce back. 

Your Barry has been going on and on about the plan he has to travel through the speed force successfully bringing this universe’s bat family back and then taking Bruce’s back to their universe. Everyone crowds around to see him do it. With his boys at his side, he watches the blinding red light zoom back and forth before eventually disappearing.

His family, the league members, and himself wait silently staring out waiting for Barry to come back. To come back with their lucky counterparts.

Bruce holds his breath when he sees Barry coming back and releases it when he sees Barry....with your family. He sees the exact version of his family all release breaths of relief and immediately look for someone.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who they are looking for.

Finally, it seems like they spot Bruce and his kids cause they all simultaneously tense up and guard their expressions. It’s staggering how alike they both look at that moment but they both know only one of them has you.

 That’s what makes them different.

They all silently watch your family embrace their friends in the league before they walk to Bruce and his children.

It’s that awkward silence again before your Bruce speaks to him.

“How is she?” Three simple words that will stick with Bruce forever.

“She’s okay. The last time we saw her she was just leaving for work.”

Your Bruce just gives him a nod and walks off. Telling his sons he’ll be waiting in the car. Bruce imagines he’s antsy to see you. He would want to speed home if he knew he had someone like you waiting for him.

He’s about to walk back to your Barry to finally go home when your Damian speaks up, “You imbeciles better not have caused any heartache to my mother. Or I will personally ask Allen to take me ba-”

“OKAY! That’s enough of you Damian. Go wait in the car with Dad.” Dick says with his hand pointed to the black car.

“But I wa-”

“Go.” This time it’s Jason and Tim telling him and Damian just rolls his eyes and walks to the car muttering insults under his breath.

Your boys turn back to face Him and his kids, and Dick tries to start up a conversation but it’s too awkward talking to another version of yourself so they bid Bruce and his family goodbye, and they watch them walk to their car. Back home to you.

And once they safely arrive back in their universe it’s weird because they know what they're missing. What they could have had.

You.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Y/N’s POV

Walking into your home your not expecting to be bombarded with hugs.

Not. At. All. 

Still expecting for the other version of your family to be home or in the cave.

But you feel multiple familiar arms wrap around your waist and shoulders and you instantly know they’re home. 

You almost cry out of relief when they all scream ‘MOM!’ and squeeze you extra tight.

“AHHH my baby birds! I missed you!” You squeal out wrapping your arms (or trying to) all around your boys, kissing them all over their faces, and smothering them in your arms. You feel them loosen up and get a good look at all their faces and the tears start building in your eyes. Gods, you missed them so much. The horrible thought of never seeing them again had you going throughout your day feeling horrible.

You caress the cheeks and kiss all their forehead until they're begging you to stop. and trying to escape. You look down to see Damian still cuddled up to your side and almost melt, you kiss him on the head once more.

You hear all your kids talking at once trying to listen when you see him behind them. You smile with tears running down your cheeks and your kids part away from you and you run toward your husband, crying into his chest and hugging him with all your might. You feel your Bruce instantly wrap his arms tight around your waist and tuck his head into your neck. 

“I- I missed you... I missed you so much. So much” you say through tears.

“I know sweetheart. Me too. Me too.” You hear him whisper into your neck and pull his face back.

You look up to see him analyzing every aspect of your face, looking at you like you’re not real. 

You instantly wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him and it finally hits you that they are home. That he’s home.

And you can finally breathe again.

BROOO I definitely got carried away lol. AHHH BUT I LOVE IT SO WHO CARES! I've had this in my drafts for months and I'm so excited to finally be posting it. I hope you all ENJOYED! LOVE YOU LOTS! Feedback is always appreciated!! <333

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

Words: 2577

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt (this is will make sense if you read it), probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

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IF THERE IS A WANT FOR A PART 2, I WILL DO ONE, IF NOT, THEN THIS STAYS AS A ONE-SHOT!

I mention Y/N goes to a church to pray, it is described more as a Christian or Catholic one (I really don't know the difference and I apologize) as she lights a candle before she prays. If you wish to skip that part, it starts with "Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral." and ends with "Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out.". I do also mention that the reader themselves aren't very religious (but grew up with it so reverted back to old practices to see if it helped)

Alfred is also dead in this (don't ask why he just is) so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

 I feel like I should mention:

Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

7:25 AM

The kids watched as Y/N was silent as she put the plate down in front of Bruce's empty seat. They all noted how fake her smile looked as she looked up at them. "Alright, I will see you kids later!"

They all watched as she walked out of the dining room and once they knew she was out of earshot, they started talking.

"Did she eat anything?"

It was Jason, he had been the last down (well...outside of Tim) so he only saw her putting the plates down and ushering them to eat.

Dick shook his head, he had seen her the entire time she made breakfast. Fully clothed, which was unusual as she usually just made breakfast in her pajamas with her hair occasionally brushed. But not today. Today her hair was done, makeup was on, she was dressed as if she was working.

But everyone in that house knew she was still off after what happened, even though it had been 3 months since the incident.

Damian flicked at his food, "Ummi was supposed to take me to school today."

Dick smiled at Damian, "I can, Dami. Mom is just...preoccupied."

Damian hmphed and continued to play with his food. Dick was concerned for his younger brother. He knew that while he himself was close with the woman he had allowed to become his mother, Damian was so much more as she was really the only person who never got mad at him or made fun of him when he didn't understand something.

Jason abruptly stood, "Since mom isn't here, I'm just gonna go."

Dick raised a brow, "Really Jason? You're just gonna leave after--"

"Hey, we've been over this before Dick. I come because mom asks me to." He shrugged as he put his jacket on, "Plus, I'm going to follow her."

Stephanie snorted, "She'll kill you when she catches you."

"If she catches me. If."

Steph hummed, "My bets are on she will. Y/N is always on the lookout, especially after..." She faded and looked down, regret piling up inside her as she thought of what she was about to say.

"Either way, tell us what you find Jason."

He nodded to Dick's request before heading out the side door in the kitchen. Dick tapped his hand on the table for a minute before speaking; "I'm gonna go check on dad, Damian go get everything ready and I'll meet you at the entryway, alright?"

The eldest stood, placing a gentle hand on the youngest shoulder before heading to the stairs. Dick was concerned. He had never seen his mother so...shut off. Pretending like everything was alright even though everyone who saw her could tell that she was so close to jumping off of a bridge.

The closest that he had seen her to this was back when Jason died and she broke up with Bruce. But even then, she didn't avoid things that she had already planned. Even then, she stayed committed to things.

Plus, Dick knew she had no plans today. Well...no plans except for the fact that beforehand this would have been her due date. And he knew that that was most likely what had off-set her so badly.

Dick didn't even knock before opening the door to Bruce's study. He was even speaking before his father even looked up from his computer. "Have you talked to mom?"

Bruce raised a brow, "What?"

"Mom." Dick crossed his arms, "When was the last time you and her had a real conversation?"

Bruce shrugged, "I'm not sure." He looked at Dick oddly, "What are you going on about?"

Dick let out a hard sigh, "You two are married, it is your job to take care of her. Goddammit Bruce!" He threw his hands up in anger, "You know what? Nevermind, I'm not...I'm not even going to try."

He angrily turned and walked out of the room. He didn't even understand why he even thought that talking to Bruce would help. He just walked down the stairs and remembered his promise to get Damian to school. Trying to hide the anxiety he had that he didn't know what exactly his mom was doing.

--------

9:09 AM

Jason watched Y/N walk out of the convenience store all the way in Blüdhaven. From where he was, he couldn't see what she had bought, but the moment he saw her go into the store, he had messaged Tim to watch her bank account. To watch what she was purchasing. Something felt...off as he watched her.

Jason knew that after the...accident, Y/N had been hard to reach. To talk to. He knew that she and Bruce hadn't been sleeping in the same bed since that argument he had accidently heard them having around 3 weeks after everything happened. So 4 weeks ago.

Granted...from what he had heard, it wasn't even a fight that they had had. Mostly just words being thrown at the other. Words that Jason never thought that he would hear either one say to the other. Words that he never told any of his siblings that he heard. All out of fear that one of them would panic. And while sure, he had a disdain for Tim and Damian, that didn't mean he would ever let either of them know what he had heard.

Jason wasn't sure how long he had been watching her just sit in the car before Tim finally texted him a list of what Y/N had bought in the past week. And considering Jason had seen her previous bank records for a week, it was a sure red mark with how short it was.

Tim

In the past week she's gotten a lot of sleeping pills. That's basically all that she has gotten. That plus energy and pain pills. Duke is thinking she's self-medicating again

Jason sighed as he pocketed his phone when he saw his mom driving out of the parking lot. He kept a safe distance behind her as he followed her on her drive back to Gotham.

--------

12:15 PM

Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral. Trying not to make a misstep and fall as well as trying not to draw attention to herself. She closed the umbrella over her head as she walked in. Placing it in the small holder, she brushed the front of her outfit as her heels clicked on the ground when she walked down the long hall.

Last time she was there was for her mothers funeral last year. Last time she had walked up and grabbed the larger candle to dip down and light the smaller one. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kneeled, words swimming through her head and mumbling off her lips.

She herself was never very religious, but having grown up that way, she wondered if praying like she did as a child would work. Praying that things would get better and that she would get better.

She shakily did the cross on her before standing and wiping the tears that had silently fallen away from her cheeks. She turned and started to make her way out of the church when she heard a voice call out her name:

"Mrs. Wayne! We were not expecting you here today, is everything alright?"

Y/N slowly turned to face one of the Nuns, a small, fake, smile on her face. "Oh yes, everything is alright Sister. Just came here to pray for a moment. I haven't in such a long time."

The nun nodded, "Very well, I hope the Good Lord hears your prayer and makes it happen."

Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out. She grabbed her umbrella before opening the door and walking out. She practically ran back to her car, wanting to get in before anyone saw her out.

But Cass and Steph did. They watched her speed back to her car as they sat in the cafe across the way. Stephanie shook her head, "She never goes there. Especially not since her mothers deaths."

Cass nodded as Steph continued; "Something is seriously going on with Y/N. Maybe something else has happened that we don't know."

"She's been deteriorating for the past 4 weeks."

Steph raised a bow and inquired, "4 weeks?" Cass nodded, "Huh...weird, that's around a week after she came home from the hospital." She grabbed her phone and started typing in the groupchat that only held the kids (Damian not included):

Steph

when did Bruce disappear for a few days after Y/N came home?"

It didn't take long for Tim to respond

logs say he left 35 hours after she got home and came back 83 hours later why?

Cass

She's been slowly getting worse sense then

Jason

I overheard them arguing around 3 weeks after everything happened and I know they haven't been sleeping in the same room since then. And I'm not sure how important this is; but Tim checked her bank account and she bought different pills so me, him, and Duke think she's medicating again. Or that she's going to start again.

Cass and Steph looked at each other, concern and worry was on their faces as they read Jason's last message. Something started unnerving them as they thought of the things she could possibly do if she was going to start medicating again.

----

3:25 PM

Y/N looked at her body in the mirror. Her hands came to lay on her stomach. Just like she did before. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared at her flatter stomach. She breathed shakily as her hands fell down to her sides.

Why?

Was all she ever asked.

Why me? Why did this happen to me?

She was so confused. She had always been good. Done everything to be a good person. But yet she still had that happen to her. Was she just not meant to be a mother?

Of course...she was one. She was a mother to 4 amazing boys and 1 beautiful girl. But still...it was different. Yes, those 5 children were hers, but that one. That singular one that she had carried for nearly 7 months had meant so much to her. Especially after being told time and time again it wouldn't happen.

It wasn't even the first time it had happened. She had had miscarriages before...but that wasn't what it was this time. The kidnapping. Bruce and the kids had found her after 2 days. The emergency c-section to save the baby.

But she knew. Of course she knew. She knew it had died.

Her baby girl. She had died before she even got the chance to live.

Y/N shakily breathed as she grabbed one of the bottles from the counter. She had thought it was the pain medication. But it hadn't been.

Sleeping meds.

Ever since it happened she had hardly been able to sleep. Nightmares of what happened still plagued her mind. Bruce yelling at her still echoed in her brain. Those...twisted words he said echoed inside of her.

She had popped a few in her mouth before dry-swallowing them and getting into the bath she had started earlier. The hot water felt like it was searing her skin, but she didn't care. She wondered if maybe she did this enough, whoever was above would forgive her of her sins and let her keep a pregnancy.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed in the water before it became difficult to keep her head above water. Her body just felt so heavy. She wondered what pain meds she had grabbed at the store. She couldn’t remember them making her feel this way before. After a few moments of struggling to keep her head up, she felt her body sink down and under the water. But even as she felt water rush into her nose and fill her lungs, she couldn't bring herself to move and get out.

She just accepted her fate.

----

3:30 PM

Bruce sat in his office, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. Something was telling him to check on Y/N. See if she was alright. He knew she had returned around 20 minutes ago, the security cameras had caught her walking in.

He carefully stood from his desk and walked out of his office. He walked down the oddly quiet halls of the manor. A small feeling of pain and guilt started to eat at him as he got closer to the guest room she had been staying in. He knew she was struggling. He knew that she needed him today. But he just...couldn't.

He was selfish. He knew this.

He knew he was so goddamn selfish. Caring about his own feelings rather than helping his wife. She had been the one to physically go through everything. She had been the one to bear that trauma.

He had been so incredibly selfish since she had come home from the hospital. He had even begun to wonder why she even stayed in the manor.

But as he opened the door to the guest room, unrest settled inside him as he saw she wasn't there but the bathroom door was open. It was silent. He had known his wife long enough to know she never was silent in the bathroom. She almost always had music playing.

He pushed the bedroom door further open as he walked further in. Anxiety started to reach a breaking point as he walked into the bathroom.

And time felt like it moved in slow-motion as he saw her state. Her knees bent out of the water, her head under. He saw the three bottles of pills on the counter. He saw the open one read sleep on them. He ran over to the tub, grabbing under her arms and pulling her out.

He bent down, trying to listen for a heartbeat. He felt like his own heart stopped as he heard nothing. Not even a faint thump of one. He quickly moved to her side and started CPR.

Everything still felt like it was moving slower than it was as he pushed down on her sternum. Tears gathered in his eyes as he repeatedly slammed down onto her. As he breathed into her mouth. He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he finally had gotten the CPR to work. She began to cough profusely, water spluttering everywhere. He sobbed as he heard her shallow breaths break through the air.

He heard the noise of Dick's voice breaking. "Mom?"

He looked at him, seeing both him and Damian staring at the scene in front of them. Staring as their father held their mother in his arms. As tears fell from his eyes, he pleaded for them to call 911.

It was with shaky hands that Dick did it. His words sounded choked back, he kept stuttering. Trying to say what he was supposed to but his mind was running at a million miles and and half a mile a second at the same time. Everything felt fuzzy and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

[yu-huuuu]

Damian smiled as you stroked the unruly locks on his head.

He knew the purpose of your touch wasn't to mess up his hair; that's why he didn't complain.

"Do you have everything?" you asked as you bent down to fix his uniform shirt. Today, he was going to school; the holidays had ended, marking the start of a new day at school.

Damian pretended to grimace, "You talk as if I were a little kid, sister."

Your small laugh made him undo his fake grimace, making him smile again.

"Well, it's better if you go, young man," you suggested before playfully pinching his nose, "you wouldn't want to be late like last time."

At your words, Damian huffed as a blush of embarrassment covered his slightly chubby cheeks, "That time was Dick's fault, not mine."

You hummed, “Whatever you say”.

"Sister!"

Your laughter was the last thing he heard as he ran off to where he knew Alfred was waiting to take him to school, feeling in his chest the strange and warm bubble of happiness that was becoming increasingly familiar.

…

Damian woke up. The sunlight streaming through the windows warmed his cold face.

He slowly got up. His tired eyes scanned your room, which, despite the sunlight streaming through your window, still looked gloomy.

He missed you so much that sometimes he would enter your room to sleep. Your scent, which always comforted him, had disappeared a long time ago.

Last night, he had a nightmare, or rather a memory, of when he found your lifeless body, and with nowhere else to go, he went to your room, enveloped his body in your sheets, and pressed his face into one of your pillows, trying to capture your scent to calm himself.

But it was impossible.

And he cried, cried as silently as he could. Keeping silent was easy. A long time ago, when his mother punished him and the pain of the blows wouldn't leave him, he simply let the pain of the bruises flow silently.

He had gained practice in doing that, but he had lost it a little because of you. You had spoiled him by letting him cry so loudly around you when everything was too much for him.

Damian didn't want to get out of your bed; he wanted to stay here. But he knew that if he didn't go down, Alfred would come up to see how he was, and honestly, he didn't want to answer any of the old butler's questions.

He stroked your empty spot one last time, hoping for some reason it would feel warm, but instead, it felt eerily cold, just as cold as your corpse.

a small part of the chapter that was published today haha!

wanna read it? Sure! below are the links of the story 👇🏼

Quotev & Wattpad

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 2

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5030 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

(6 Months Later)

Dick Grayson looked up at the Carr family home from his car, apprehensive to open the door just yet. It was a nice home, and from the research Dick did, a nice family lived there too.

His eyes trailed to the apartment situated above the garage, imagining the people who were inside. How were they going to react when he told them what he was there for? Scratch that, how were they going to react when they saw him?

'Should I go take a nap or are you going to man up and go inside at some point?' Oracle's sarcastic voice came through the car's bluetooth.

Dick clenched his hands around the steering wheel. Barbara - newly named Oracle - was right. It didn't matter what his friends were going to say. He needed their help, and he needed to man up.

Dick finally unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. 'I'll call you when I'm done,' he said, then ended the call before Barbara could sneak in another witty remark.

He made haste running up the Carr's driveway, then up the stairs to the apartment above the garage. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he heard laughter and lively chatter that made him pause. An overwhelming sense of guilt and shame and longing surged through him. Was he really going to break up the joy beyond the door? Once upon a time he would've been glad for a party, for a break from work and his vigilante duties.

His mind flashed back to that first party him and his friends had in Mount Justice. It was Wally's birthday and he had been lapping up all the attention, especially from M'gann, who had made him a cake and had in fact organised the whole party. This was before Wally realised him and Artemis were meant to be, same with Connor and M'gann.

But Y/N had known, had even pointed it out to Dick as they sat in the corner just the two of them, watching everything play out.

'They're all so thick,' Y/N said, taking a sip of her lemonade, trying to hide her knowing smile.

'How so?' Dick asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Can you not see?' She grabbed Dick's chin and guided him to look at Connor and M'gann interacting awkwardly but in a cute way, then Wally and Artemis "fighting", matching wit for wit with every snarky comment they threw at each other. 'Connor and M'gann are so into each other, and you could cut the emotional tension between Wally and Artemis it's so thick. They are all crushing hard.'

Dick watched the two couples interact a little longer and realised Y/N was right. 'Well would you look at that,' he said, turning back to Y/N. 'You're quite the observer, aren't you?'

Y/N chuckled. 'Dick, we've been best friends for three years now. If you're just figuring that out now, then you're just as thick as the rest of our friends.'

'Hey! I am not!'

'Are to.'

'Am. Not!'

'Are. To!'

The two fell into hysterical laughter, gripping onto one another so they didn't fall to the ground.

Y/N's smile came to him then, and the longing in his chest ached even more. She was more than likely beyond the door too, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. He suddenly had the thought that he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't possibly ask them - couldn't ask her - to help him. Not after what he'd done...

Before he could chicken out completely, he forced himself to knock lightly on the door.

'I'll get it,' M'gann's sweet voice called out to whoever she was with, and Dick prepared himself as he heard her walk to the door.

M'gann opened the door, and she was smiling, the remnants of laughter twinkling in her eyes. She was in her human form, but it had changed since the last time Dick saw her. Her ginger hair was now cropped just under her ears, and her features were sharper, more refined than that of a young adolescent. She wore a flattering white blouse and casual jeans, not bothering for shoes in her own home.

She was grown up. In just two years?

Her brown eyes locked with Dick's blue ones, and immediately her smile dropped as shock froze her face.

Dick offered her a small smile 'Hi, M'gann,' he said softly.

'Dick...' was all she could manage as she continued to look at him, eyes raking over him as if she were imagining things. 'What are you doing here?'

'Honey, who is it?'

Dick's guilt deepened at the sound of Connor's voice. The Superboy himself came to the door when M'gann didn't answer, and stopped in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on Dick. But he didn't stay shocked for long.

Connor furrowed his eyebrows and stepped up behind M'gann, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. 'What are you doing here?' he asked icily, eyes solely focussed on Dick.

It hurt to see such distrust in his old friend's eyes, but Dick somewhat expected that. 'Nice to see you too, Connor,' he said, slipping into his casual, carefree persona easily. If there was one thing Dick was really good at, it was putting on a mask. 'I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd swing by. It's been a while.'

'Why don't you answer my question first before you start acting like nothing is wrong,' Connor suggested, his voice taking a deep threatening tone.

'Connor, please,' M'gann said, seemingly getting over her initial shock. She placed her left hand over Connor's on her shoulder, and that's when Dick saw the shiny diamond ring on her finger. 'He's our friend.'

Dick didn't think his guilt could worsen at those three words.

M'gann opened the door wider and offered him a small smile. 'Come in, Dick. We'd love for you to join us.'

Dick flashed her a grateful smile. 'Thanks,' he said as he ducked through the doorway. He then looked from M'gann to Connor and back again. 'Congratulations, by the way.'

M'gann looked confused for a moment, then a joyful twinkle flashed in her eyes as she looked to her ring, a soft smile gracing her features. 'Thank you, Dick,' she said. 'That's what we're actually celebrating. Come on, there is food and drinks this way.'

M'gann walked back towards the party, but Connor and Dick remained in the entrance, staring at one another.

Dick took Connor in. Because of his clone genetics, Connor never actually aged. Not physically anyways. He'd changed ever so slightly from when Dick first broke him out of Cadmus, only growing a centimetre or two every year or so. His muscles had toned more having entered his theoretical twenties, and but his face still held onto those baby features he'd had since being replicated as a teenaged Superman.

Dick sized himself up against Connor and shockingly found that, for the first time, they were looking at each other eye to eye.

Connor seemed to scan Dick, too, coming to the same conclusion that Dick had changed too since they last saw each other. Dick waited for Connor to say something, but when Connor was done he gave Dick a stone cold grimace then turned to follow M'gann.

'What a warm reunion,' Dick mumbled under breath as he followed Connor down the hallway.

The hallway opened into an open-floor plan that held the kitchen, the dinning room and the lounge. Dick expected a few more people to be waiting for them, but he only spotted Kaldur lounging on the couch, drink in hand. Being the vigilant person he was, Kaldur immediately recognised Dick and placed his drink on the coffee table as he stood up.

'Dick,' he said, teal eyes wide with surprise.

'Hey, Kaldur,' Dick greeted awkwardly, ready for the same cold treatment as Connor.

Instead, Kaldur's face broke into a warm smile as he manoeuvred around the furniture to make his way to Dick. 'Old friend,' he said as he embraced Dick. 'It has been too long.'

'It sure has, buddy,' Dick responded, returning his friend's embrace.

Kaldur released him, but kept his hand on Dick's shoulder as he scanned over him. 'Look at you! You seem to be healthy and strong.'

It was true. Dick had noticed he'd muscled up a little more since leaving the team, though still keeping towards the leaner side of muscular. He certainly wasn't has bulk as Connor, or Kaldur for that fact, who Dick noted also had more muscles and toned features. Kaldur certainly filled out the black button-up he wore. But, as it was with Connor, Dick was happy to see him looking directly in Kaldur's eyes as they spoke, not from slightly below as it had been since they were children.

'Thanks man,' Dick said. 'Been working out. I see you've been doing the same, Aquaman.'

'My King left some large shoes to fill,' Kladur admitted humbly. 'But thank you.'

'So you know of Kaldur's promotion, but couldn't contact him to say congrats when it happened?' Connor interjected from his place in the kitchen.

M'gann scolded him as she placed some plates on the dining table, but the mood had already changed to tense and quiet.

'Connor's right,' Dick admitted, addressing his three friends. 'I'm sorry. These past two years... I should've stayed in contact. I wanted to. But every time I went to, I convinced myself that you didn't want to hear from me. That it would be better to leave you all be while I try to figure out myself again.'

'Oh Dick,' M'gann started, walking around the table to pull him into a hug. 'Of course we wanted to hear from you. You're our friend and we missed you. But we understand that after Wally died, you had to take a break from everything.'

M'gann pulled away and then pointed an accusatory finger at him, looking extremely cross with him. 'But if you ever do anything like that again, I swear I will hunt you down and kick your sorry ass into another universe. Understood?'

Dick nodded vigorously. 'U-Understood.'

M'gann's sweet demeanour returned and she walked back to the table to continue setting it. The three men looked at her quietly as she went about her work, until Dick turned to Connor and said, 'Your fiancée is scary.'

Dick expected another glare from the Superboy, but he was gladly surprised when the dark-haired boy nodded in agreement, face slightly pale. 'You got that right.' He then shook himself out of his frozen state of fear to help his fiancée dish out their meal.

'Give him time,' Kaldur said quietly to Dick. 'You know how Connor can be with expressing his emotions.'

'Well, he's not as emotionally constipated as he once was, I'll give him that,' Dick said. 'Unfortunately, I don't think I have time.'

'What do you mean?' Kaldur asked.

Dick went to explain but quickly decided against it. Kaldur was in the Justice League now. Dick couldn't really explain what he was planning to do. Not yet, anyway.

'Forget I said anything,' Dick said instead, flashing his charming smile and wrapping an arm around his old friend's shoulders. 'For now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed. How is it being Atlantis' new champion, first starters...'

For the next hour, it was like old times. The four of them ate and laughed and swapped stories about what Dick had missed in the last two years. They recalled some of the good times they all shared when they were on the team, and Dick convinced himself for a brief moment that they could all stay like this. Happy, carefree, young.

But Dick had come to Connor and M'gann for a reason.

Once they'd had enough of dessert, Connor offered to wash up and Dick saw his chance.

'I'll help wipe up,' Dick offered, taking his and Kaldur's plates to the sink while Connor filled the sink with soap and water. Dick waited until M'gann and Kaldur were in deep conversation over on the couch that Dick decided to broach his intended subject. 'So, how is the team going?'

'The team is doing okay,' Connor answered flatly, never lifting his eyes from his work with the plates in the sink. 'I just try to help M'gann as best as I can. We're down a few numbers since your old man decided to take half of the Justice League and our team with him in his little stunt.'

Dick winced. He recalled getting the call from Tim about it about five months ago. It had been an orchestrated walk out from over half the Justice League and their protégés, all of them wanting to go back to their vigilante ways as the League and the team had become somewhat irrelevant. Those that remained never saw it coming.

'I'm sorry about that,' he apologised, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Just felt appropriate.

Connor looked at him briefly, hands pausing in the sink as he did, and then released a sigh of defeat. 'Don't be sorry, Dick. It's not like you had anything to do with it.'

'No,' Dick agreed, 'but I should've been there at least. I should've reached out to see if you were okay. We started this team together, I shouldn't have just left it all to you.'

'Well, I know the rest of the team would really appreciate it if you came back now,' Connor said, his tone hopeful. 'That is, if you're ready to come back.'

Dick's heart lurched at the thought of going back to the team, both with want and terror. He liked Barbara, he really did. But, if he were being honest, he'd missed being a part of something bigger than himself and his own agendas.

'Connor,' Dick started softly, looking to see M'gann and Kaldur still locked in deep conversation before continuing, 'I would love to come back. Please know that. But you should know I haven't just been idly moving about the place the last two years. I've been conducting undercover missions of my own with Barbara in relation to the meta-human trafficking crisis.'

Connor's eyes widened and Dick saw he was about to raise his voice so leaned in close and hurriedly whispered, 'Keep your voice down, please.'

Connor took a second to register what Dick had said before whispering harshly, 'What do you mean you've been working on your own? You should've come to us if you were getting involved.'

'First of all, I just said I had Barbara helping me, and secondly because the team and the Justice League are full of public figures now. The missions wouldn't work if they got involved. But I've actually come here to ask you for your help on a mission, Connor.'

'Me?! Why would I-'

'Let me explain. First of all, it'll be you, me, Artemis-'

'You've pulled Artemis into this too?! Where the hell has she been, anyway?'

'Would you stop interrupting me for one second?' Dick hissed, wiping up a plate or two before returning to the conversation. 'As I was saying, from our intel, Markovia's Princess Tara has been found dead. Killed by a meta human supposedly, and I have a sneaky suspicion someone has been testing on people with the meta gene, turning them into extreme versions of their meta abilities. I need your help to find out who. As I said before, I've convinced Artemis to help already, and I was looking to you, Jefferson, and Y/N to make up the rest of the team.'

Dick looked around the room, looking at how empty the couches were around M'gann and Kaldur and sudden thought struck him. 'Speaking of which, where is Y/N?' he asked. 'I would've thought she'd be here celebrating the good news.'

He'd forgotten to keep quiet that time, and so Kaldur and M'gann looked at him alongside Connor, all looking as if Dick had sprouted three heads.

'What?' Dick asked, patting around his face. 'Do I have sauce on my face?'

'You don't know?' M'gann asked, sounding almost on the brink of tears.

That's when Dick realised something was majorly wrong, and his gut twisted with fear. 'Know what? Where's Y/N?'

'Y/N, she...' Kaldur started, then took a deep breath before continuing, 'Y/N left the team, Dick.'

'What?' Dick said, almost dropping the plate he held. 'What do you mean she left?'

'She left about six months ago,' Connor answered, washing up the last plate and emptying the sink. 'Before everyone else left. She felt like she wasn't doing enough with us anymore, so she just... left.'

'I've sent her plenty of messages,' M'gann said, 'but she hasn't answered any of them. And I can't sense her at all in the country. Even the Watchtower couldn't find her.'

Dick couldn't believe this. Y/N was gone? 'So Wonder Woman doesn't even know where she is?'

'Wonder Woman has been busy running the Justice League since Batman resigned,' Kaldur answered. 'Even if she did know where her daughter was, I don't think she'd like us to know, and I would have to agree.'

'Why?' Dick asked, suddenly very angry at Kaldur for not being as concerned as he was about Y/N. 'Do you know where she is?'

Kaldur shook his head. 'Regrettably, no. But when we last spoke, she sounded like she didn't want to be found. That she would come back to us when she was ready. I think we should respect that.'

Dick shook his head in disbelief. 'No, that's not like Y/N. She wouldn't just leave anywhere without telling anyone.'

'What, you mean like you?' Connor asked, and that cold stare was back.

'I mean she is loyal and empathetic. Surely she would know how her absence would affect the team,' Dick continued, ignoring the personal dig.

'She was loyal, Dick,' Connor countered. 'She was loyal, and stuck around with M'gann, Kaldur and I until the team got back on its feet. She held the team together when we were on the brink of falling apart. But you wouldn't know that because you weren't here.'

Dick wanted to argue but found that he couldn't. What he had thought was the best for the team turned out to be the complete opposite. He could sense it now; his relationships with his oldest friends were no longer as they were.

'You were gone for two years,' Connor continued. 'You'd be surprised as to how much a person can change in that time.'

The day Dick left flashed in his mind, and he recalled the pain in Y/N's eyes when he left her behind. He remembered how she'd held it together, but he knew she would probably cry about it later because she'd done it some many times before, always going to him to cry on his shoulder.

But he wasn't there that time. He'd left her all alone to dry her tears.

You're my best friend. Always have been. Always will be...

Dick looked to his friends again, but they could barely meet his eyes. Kaldur was disappointed, Connor was angry, and M'gann was just sad. An apology bubbled up in Dick's throat, but he didn't think it was sufficient enough for what he had done to them.

'I have to find her, then,' Dick said into the quiet room, and finally they all looked to him.

'Did you not just hear Kaldur?' Connor asked. 'We should leave her alone like she wants.'

'We don't necessarily know that,' Dick countered. 'Besides, this isn't about bringing her back. This is about me making things right with her.'

'But what if Kaldur is right?' M'gann argued. 'What if she doesn't want to be found. Maybe the right thing to do is leave her alone?'

Dick shook his head. 'She's my best friend, M'gann. I can't accept that she wouldn't want to see us ever again.'

'Maybe she doesn't want to see you, have you considered that?' Kaldur asked, his voice taking on a protective demeanour. 'The bottom line is, Dick, that you left her behind without a second thought. And she respected that, even if it killed her inside knowing that you would rather abandon her - abandon us - than face the pain of losing Wally together. She missed you every single day, and yet she still fought and trained and guided the team without faltering. And now, when she finally finds the courage to do what's best for her for once, you want to shame her for it?'

Anger surged through Dick, fiery and hot. 'I am not shaming her for anything. Do you not think I didn't think of you all every single day?'

'If you did, you didn't do anything about it, did you?' Connor mumbled, but Dick heard him just fine.

'Look, if you guys don't want to help me find her, fine,' Dick said, looking at all three friends pointedly. 'But I will find her. Because she needs to know that she was right. That I was wrong to leave and I am a terrible best friend.'

His expression softened as he looked down at his hands, imagining how long ago him and Y/N would link their pinkies. How simple friendships were back then.

'If she never comes back,' he continued, quieter this time, 'then I won't blame her. But best friends don't give up on each other.'

It was quiet for what felt like an eternity. Until Kaldur walked up to Dick and grabbed his shoulder comfortingly.

'You may be a terrible best friend,' Kaldur said, a small smile warming his face. 'But that doesn't mean your heart isn't in the right place.'

'Thanks, Kaldur,' Dick said, patting Kaldur's hand upon his shoulder.

Kaldur dropped his hand and the four of them sat down on the couches. 'Y/N didn't tell me where she was going,' Kaldur started, 'just that she needed to find out who she was again.'

'I don't follow,' Dick said.

Kaldur chuckled. 'Don't worry, I said the same thing to her when she told me. But she also said something along the lines of, "I need to find out where I've come from to find out where I will go.".'

'What the hell does that mean?' Connor asked.

'Again, not sure. But when I asked her the same question, she said she had to go back to her roots,' Kaldur elaborated. 'Something to do with where it all started. And her mother...'

Dick contemplated all of Kaldur's recollections, juggling each statement over one another to try and make sense. It was so vague, but Dick could sense there was a blatant truth staring right at them if they just looked hard enough.

Where it all began... Where she's been... Her mother...

The answer hit Dick like a brick wall.

'Themyscira,' he said softly, then more confidently. 'She's gone to Themyscira.'

'The Island of the Amazons?' M'gann asked. 'Are you sure?'

Dick nodded. 'It has to be. That's where Wonder Woman is from, and Y/N mentioned all the time when we were kids how much she wanted to go visit it one day.'

'But isn't it hidden?' Connor interjected. 'I mean, that's why they haven't gone back right? Anyone who leaves the island can never find it again.'

'Wonder Woman must've had something to help her remember,' Kaldur offered. 'Or at least guide her back home. I would suggest we go ask her, but again, I doubt she would tell us anything.'

It was like nothing had changed. The four of them had slipped back into theorising and planning and bantering as if no time had passed, as if no one had left or been promoted. It warmed Dick's heart at the thought that they all wanted to help find Y/N, even bring her home.

But Dick shook his head in dismissal. 'You guys don't have to worry yourselves over this. It sounds like I'm part of the reason she left in the first place, so it's my responsibility to find her and make this right on my own.'

'While I agree that this is partially your fault,' Connor said, earning a slight slap from M'gann beside him that he barely flinched at, 'Y/N's our friend too. The least we can do is help you find her.'

Dick smiled gratefully at his friend, who gave him a nod in return which was a start. 'Okay then...' Dick brought his watch up in front of his chest, clicked a few buttons before bringing up a large holographic screen with Barbara on it. 'Can you see us, Babs?'

'In quality HD, as well,' Barbara replied with a witty smile. 'Now, what can Oracle do for you?'

'We're trying to find Themyscira,' Dick explained. 'But it's not on any maps that we know of. Anything in any history records? Sailor sightings while out at sea?'

'You're asking me to find a mythical island from greek mythology that is meant to be hidden from Man's World and is forgotten by any who leave it?' Barbara asked incredulously, but then began typing ferociously on her end. 'Yeah, sure. No problem.'

Dick and the others waited in silence as Barbara worked her magic, files and maps and illustrations of the island popping up all over the screen around her face. After a minute or two, she spoke again.

'Okay,' she began, 'according to maps, you're right, the place doesn't exist. Even old sailors from Ancient Greece don't have any records of the place. However, I did find some similar tales being published in short stories of greek mythology and sailing journals. And all of them mention a couple of times sailing near what has now become the mouth of the modern Terme River in what we now know as Turkey, and having a strange sensation wash over them about danger. Each and every one of them have been convinced there is danger ahead and have turned away.'

'But they're just stories,' Kaldur argued. 'How can you be sure that what they speak of is the Island of the Amazons?'

'Ease up, Aquaman. I'm getting there.' A few more clicks and taps and Barbara brought up a picture of a very odd looking fish. 'Do you recognise that at all?'

Kaldur stared at the fish for a moment, contemplating its odd structure. 'I don't recognise it as a species,' Kaldur said. 'But I do recognise parts of it. It is like... different fish species have been spliced up and put back together to form this.'

'Exactly,' Barbara said, tap and clicking fervently again. 'This is a fish that has been found not near Turkey but close enough, and on multiple occasions. Now, if we isolate all these fish types... and then map out where each species usually resides... then find the crossover point for all of them...'

Dick watched diligently as Barbara isolated the fishes, highlight on the world map which species resided where, then drew lines horizontally and vertically, then zoomed in on the section the two lines crossed over.

'And there you have it,' Barbara offered proudly. 'The mouth to the Terme River in Turkey. You're welcome.'

'That makes sense,' M'gann said, looking up at the map, intrigued. 'If Themyscira is supposedly this pocket of space no human can find, then it makes sense that sea creatures of different genetic combinations would be able to breed there in peace, more than likely living there except for the stray pod or two that wander off into the open ocean.'

'I would have to agree,' Kaldur said, fascinated by it all as well. 'Who knows how many sea creatures live in harmony there.'

'Well, I'll be sure to find out when I get there,' Dick said as he stood up. 'Thanks Babs.'

'Any time,' she said, then the call ended.

'Wait, you're leaving now?' M'gann asked as Dick made his way to the front door.

'This cannot wait, M'gann,' Dick insisted, opening the front door. 'I have to speak with her as soon as possible.'

'Hey.' Dick was forced to stop when Connor grabbed him by his bicep, bringing the two of them close enough Dick could feel Connor's breath on his cheek.

'Are you really doing this for Y/N's sake, or for yours?' Connor asked in a hushed voice. 'Because whatever mission you think you need her for, I can assure you it cannot be more important than your friendship. Do you understand?'

Dick didn't quite understood what he meant, but he nodded anyways, and Connor let him go.

M'gann and Kaldur stepped up beside Connor as Dick made his way down the apartment stairs and back to the car. M'gann wrapped her arms around Connor's waist as he embraced her with one arm over her shoulder.

'Good luck, old friend,' Kaldur called out. 'May your journey be safe and successful.'

Dick chuckled as he waved farewell. 'I know you've always been well-spoken, but is it now a job requirement as Aquaman to sound like Gandalf?'

Kaldur pulled a face that Dick and M'gann laughed at, and Connor cracked a smile at the slight burn. Before he could psyche himself out of it, Dick hopped in the car and took off towards Wayne Manor.

'Call Alfred Pennyworth,' Dick spoke loud and clear, and the car immediately began ringing.

After a few rings, Alfred promptly answered the phone. 'Master Dick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'Hey, Alfred. Is the Batwing free at the moment?'

'I've just given it a deep clean now. Why?'

'Excellent. Could you please prepare it for take off by the time I reach the Manor? I have a little excursion I have to go on.'

'Will that excursion bring the Batwing back in one piece, Master Dick?'

'...I'll be there in twenty.'

Dick promptly ended the call, not waiting to hear a scolding from Alfred. Those were never fun.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to expect when he went to Themyscira. But Steve Trevor did it once, surely it could be done again.

Either way, it was a risk Dick was willing to take to get his best friend back.

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

Tag list:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @tyrannosaurexrex1300 | @lunaizhere

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Snapdragon - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Snapdragon (Antirrhinum) - Meaning: Presumption, deception

Summary: Reader thinks her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, is cheating on her. Bruce tries to figure out how to tell her about his nighttime activities.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1864

Warnings: Suspected infidelity, angst, discussion of insecurities, a little bit of gaslighting/misdirection from Bruce, Alfred is a sassy bitch, Bruce is a mopey bastard, cliffhanger ending

Day 12 takes a sharp turn back into angst! I wrote this with the Christian Bale Batman and Michael Caine Alfred in mind, but use any Batman/Alfred you fancy. Also, sorry for the cliffhanger.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! ❤️

Bruce was cheating on you, you knew it. He hadn’t spent the night at your place in weeks, was texting you back at odd hours at night, and whenever you did manage to pin him down for a date he seemed disengaged, preoccupied, like he would rather be elsewhere. 

Dating Gotham’s Prince was difficult enough as it was, press following you everywhere and your face showing up in supermarket tabloids — you were just a regular person, you didn’t come from money or rub elbows with Gotham’s social elite, you had a regular boring desk job to pay the bills. 

You met Bruce by accident one day when you were on your way into work. You weren’t paying attention and almost walked into oncoming traffic, but Bruce had caught your arm just as you stepped off the curb, spilling your coffee. You’d turned, ready to give him such a tongue-lashing, but a motorcyclist zipped by at an ungodly speed right where you’d been about to step. Bruce then offered to replace your coffee and escort you to the office (“For your own safety,” he’d insisted with a  devilish smirk that you couldn’t say no to). 

You’d been dating ever since, almost a year now, which surprised most of the press. Numerous gossip sites were speculating about how you’d managed to keep Bruce’s interest for that long, but you’d learned to tune all their shit out. 

The insecurity you felt now stemmed from Bruce’s own behavior, not the latest expulsion of bile from the gossipmongers online. You’d texted Bruce to meet you at your place after work, only receiving a thumbs-up emoji back. 

You weren’t worth a real response. You weren’t worth his honesty. You weren’t worth him.

Shaking that insidious voice out of your head, you decided you needed a drink. In the middle of pouring yourself a glass of wine (box wine, another reminder of the insurmountable differences between you and Bruce) a knock sounded at the door. 

Looking through the peep hole, you saw a large bouquet of flowers held in front of a tired-looking Bruce. You opened the door and let him in, accepting the flowers and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” Bruce said, lingering near your cheek and stepping closer, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You tensed in his grasp, and he immediately let go, lifting your chin with a finger so you had to look him in the eye. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

Looking into his baby blues was a little too much to handle, so you simply nodded and moved away from him. 

“Yeah, just gonna get these in water,” you said, lifting the bouquet slightly. Fishing the one vase you owned out of the cupboard, you filled it at the sink. Bruce followed your movements, hands in his pants pockets while he watched. 

“I’ve only got a few minutes, unfortunately, but I was hoping you were free this Friday for a proper date,” he offered, smiling in his charming way. You only hummed your response, focusing on rearranging the flowers so they looked nice in the vase.

You had a speech prepared, known exactly what you wanted to say to him to get him to confess that he was cheating. Now that he was here, however, your well-formulated hypothesis was harder and harder to grasp. Like smoke, it dissipated the more you tried to catch it. 

“You sure everything’s okay? You seem tense,” Bruce observed. That was your cue, and you knew you had to take it before he got any closer. Once he had his hands on you, every rational thought would flee and you’d be at his mercy. 

“Are you cheating on me?” you asked, fighting to keep your composure. You’d never been good at confrontation, so you figured the best way to handle this was firm, direct, like ripping off a band-aid. You tried to put on a confident air even though your insides were practically liquifying with nerves. 

Bruce sighed, “We talked about this, you can’t believe anything you read on those sites. They’re just in it for the clicks-”

“I’m not-! I didn’t get it off the internet, it’s just…you’ve been distant lately, and I can’t think of any explanation other than you found someone more…in your league,” you explained, wrapping your arms around you in an effort to comfort yourself. The insecurities you felt earlier were slipping into your words, despite your best efforts to shove them aside.

Bruce softened, took a step toward where you were standing in your kitchen. When you didn’t flinch away, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “Babe, you are in my league. Hell, you’re way above my league, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” 

“I don’t either,” you said, “but this isn’t coming from an external source, it’s what I’ve noticed when it’s just the two of us. You seem distracted, like you don’t want to be in the moment with me. And it’s a rare occurrence that you text me back before midnight, if at all.” 

Bruce’s hands stroked down your arms, warming your skin. He leaned down into your eye line. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know you were feeling that way, I’ll be better about being present with you, I promise. There’s just been a lot going on at work and it’s been…busy, I’ve been busy, you know?” 

You nodded, “I know.” 

“But,” he said, unhooking your hands from where they’d been holding your elbows, “Now that I know, we can fix it. I’m gonna do better. Thank you for telling me.” 

You let him unfold your arms and bring them up around his shoulders, resting them there and bringing his hands to your lower back. He kept his grasp loose until, against your better judgment, you tightened your arms and pulled him into a hug. He returned your embrace, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

When he held you like this it was easy, too easy, to forget your stupid insecurities and let yourself trust him. In his embrace, every imperfection you nitpicked about yourself ceased to exist. He was a safe space — well, until recently. 

Bruce said your name quietly to get your attention. You looked up at him. 

“I love you,” he said, the look on his face betraying the heartbreaking truth of his statement. 

You pushed up on your toes and kissed his lips quickly — any slower and you’d completely melt into him. 

“I love you too, Bruce.” 

________

Later that night…

Bruce was well and truly fucked. He’d known it was only a matter of time before you noticed his odd behavior, the late hours, the preoccupation and distractibility. Fuck! 

He and Alfred had rules, dammit, and he should’ve followed them. 

No more than five dates or two months, whichever comes first. 

They’re never allowed to roam the house unsupervised. 

Most importantly, keep feelings out of it. Sex and companionship, nothing more and nothing less. 

But it was different with you. You’d…surprised him, which he didn’t think was possible anymore. You were funny and gorgeous — not his usual type, but still enchanting — and a little spiky, which only intrigued him more. For the first time, Bruce wanted to get to know someone on a deeper level. Maybe it was age, or he was finally ready to admit he wasn’t an island, or maybe he was just sick of the endless line of vapid, waifish model-types he usually dated, but whatever the reason you came into his life at exactly the right time and you were…perfect. 

What was the old saying, nothing good can stay? The truth of that statement weighed on him as he pulled off the suit, tossing the pieces haphazardly all over the cave, leaving a trail to where he eventually settled in his computer chair. 

“Y’know, sir, while kevlar is good at stopping bullets it does rather badly when left unattended on a damp cave floor,” Alfred scolded gently, bending to pick up the pieces of Batman. Bruce only grunted at his butler, pulling up the dossier he’d been preparing on the Joker. The last few weeks it looked like the psychopath had reemerged, which is why he’d been so preoccupied. Gotham barely survived the last scrape with that psychopath, so Batman had been doggedly hunting him after the sun went down. 

“Did you stop by her place, then?” Alfred asked, referring to you. “She seemed rather insistent on it.”

Bruce paused, then sighed and turned to face Alfred. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.” 

“Not exactly an incorrect assumption,” Alfred joked. Bruce flashed him a glare, but the butler didn’t notice. “Well, we knew this was coming didn’t we? Once you started breaking the rules for her, it was only a matter of time.” 

Bruce internally groaned, not wanting to admit Alfred was right. “I just wish I knew what to do. She’s the first person in a long time that I’ve actually wanted to have around. Present company excluded, of course.” 

“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “You’ve arrived at a crossroads, if you don’t mind me saying. You either tell her, or you don’t.” 

“How do I know if I should tell her?” 

“That answer lies in how much you trust her to keep your secret.” 

“And how do I know that I won’t lose her even if I tell her?” Bruce asked, voicing his biggest fear. Painting a target on your back as well as his, and then being shoved out of your life. 

Alfred laid a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder, like he always did when sharing a hard life lesson. “You don’t, Master Wayne.” 

The hand left his shoulder and Bruce turned back around, each man now going about their usual business. A few quick incident reports later Bruce made his way upstairs to his bedroom, hoping with how tired his body was that sleep would claim him quickly. 

No such luck.

Instead, he tossed and turned, going over every possible outcome of the inevitable conversation.

Option 1: He tells you about Batman, you accept it, and the two of you make it work. This, of course, was the ideal scenario so he knew that wouldn’t be the outcome. Nothing in his life worked out ideally. 

Option 2: He tells you about Batman, you freak out and break up with him, and you become a huge liability. Giving you that knowledge would be like handing you a grenade with the pin pulled out — if you held onto it, you were both safe, but if you let go…Kaboom. And how long could you hold onto a secret that big, that dangerous?

The last option was that he doesn’t tell you, you continue to assume he’s cheating on you, and you break up with him eventually. He loses you, but you remain unaware and therefore safe — from his enemies, from prosecution, from whatever else came from being Batman's girlfriend. 

Around three in the morning Bruce’s mind was made up, his next steps planned, and resolve steely, but he waited until half-past five (a more normal wake-up time) to text you. 

‘Dinner at my place tonight. We need to talk.’