#bruce wayne x reader drabble

[snowluvvie]

₊˚⊹ ♡ . JUST SHOW UP AND BE PRETTY.

“Mr. and Mrs. Robertson are the ones whose daughter just went off to college… she’s a hospitality major, I think… or maybe it was nursing—argh!” You drop your head into your hands, your notecards crinkling at the edges before you toss them down onto the dresser, giving up on your studying. “I’m never gonna be able to remember all this.”

Bruce rounds the corner, shrugging on his shirt casually. He isn’t even dressed, and the gala starts in twenty minutes.

“No one expects you to.” He hums placidly.

“You’re the CEO, it’s gonna look bad if I’m with you and I don’t know anyone’s names.” A frown starts to tug your mouth downwards, your teeth digging into your bottom lip anxiously.

As he finishes buttoning his shirt, looking entirely too handsome in plain, crisp white, Bruce crosses the room and joins you in front of his dresser. He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your lips in an attempt to smooth your growing frown. You lean into his touch automatically, his hand warm against your skin.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t work. Tonight’s supposed to be fun—at least a little, I’d hoped.” The baritone of his voice is so soothing, your concerns practically melt at the first comforting word that leaves his mouth. Bruce has always had a way of doing that, of saying things with such resolute calmness that they had to be true.

“Just don’t wanna embarrass you.” You mumble, though you knew he had already suspected as much.

Bruce lets out a slow, quiet sigh, his hand drifting down to rest on the crook of your neck. He tugs you gently forward, and you let him, as he makes you turn to face the mirror. You’re in the cobalt blue gown he picked out, throat and ears studded with matching sapphires. As you look in the mirror, your eyes don’t stay trained on your own reflection for long—rather, they flick to Bruce, who’s looming over you like some overly handsome and comforting phantom. He squeezes your neck reassuringly.

“Look at yourself. How could you embarrass me when you look like this?”

Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your mouth start to tip up into a small smile. Bruce catches it and grins, flashing his teeth in a way that’s equally as intoxicating every time he does it. Secretly, you spend most of your time together trying to coax those from him.

He dips his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, and you shudder lightly at his breath against your skin. “Just be there, and be next to me, and be gorgeous. Everyone will love you.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes start to drift shut, lulled by his voice in your ear, like he’s hypnotizing you. You nod numbly, suddenly very agreeable with whatever he had to say. He lets out a small, deep laugh into your ear, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he pulls back from you.

“We’re gonna be late.” You point out, a whine at the edge of your voice from the sudden absence of him against you.

“Yes, definitely.” He replies.

[axstoria]

Bruce Wayne kisses like you're the last thread of sanity holding him to this world. He'll cradle your face in his hands, lips making long, languidly slow movements over your own. By the end of it, you're pushed against some kind of furniture and panting, while he's already leaving to pull on his cowl. It hurts to see him go, yet you know that he'll be home again to kiss you senseless until the world makes sense.

Richard Grayson kisses like he'll be dead tomorrow. Little pecks along your cheek, forehead, neck—anywhere he can get those plush lips on. He'll kiss you until you're both breathless, chests heaving and faces flushed. He'll love you until the day he dies, and he makes sure that you know that. Every day, he spends like it's his last, and every day, he makes sure to give you so many kisses, you're drowning in his love.

Jason Todd kisses like he doesn't know how. Sure, he's had a few hookups, especially during his early days as Red Hood, but he's never kissed a person like you. He loves you, it's as simple as that. With others, he is rough and fast, not knowing how to slow down and just enjoy the presence of the person beneath him. With you, all he can do is be gentle, because you're the only person who has stayed and loved him as the broken man he is.

Tim Drake kisses you like he's trying to study you. He'll nip at your neck and jaw just to see how you react, just to grin to himself as he observes the way you melt into him when his lips meet yours. He'll let his hands wander to see what makes you relax, what makes your lips stutter against his. He enjoys every interaction like you are his subject and he is the scientist. He needs to know everything. Knowledge calls for him in his blood, and you, his love, are the doorway to it.

AgedUp!Damian Wayne kisses expensively. He starts at your jaw, making soft motions towards your lips until he finally claims them with his own. His wide hands hold you in place by the waist and his dark hair tickles your skin. He'll take his time, loving on you the way you deserve. He knows just how to kiss you like he knows just how to kill a man. He kisses soft and slow, because why would he have to rush? He has his beloved in his arms, whispering his name against his lips; what more could he want?

[uramakimochi]

Batboys scenario:

YOU LOOSE CONTROL OF YOUR POWERS WHILE SLEEPING.

WARNINGS: Just fluff, no use of Y/N. Inspired by this thought of mine. R can fly but it's not explicitly said whether they're a Super/Kent or an alien. This should be gender neutral enough for everyone^^

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

BRUCE

Bruce entered the room with a yawn that he tried to cover with his hand, while slowly rotating his neck and chest to make his bones crack loudly.

The only thing he wanted to do was get into bed with you, hold you close and sleep forever. But he knew that all the love and devotion he felt for you would never be enough to free him from his duties as a vigilante, so the only thing he could do was enjoy to the fullest those moments that life allowed him to spend with you. One of which was a good rest together.

Bruce loved sleeping with you. There was no better feeling for him than coming home late after a patrol and hiding under the covers, wrapping his mighty arms around you and pulling you against his sturdy body, falling asleep lulled by your body heat.

But before he could already imagine how he would spend a beautiful night next to you, he had to stop on the threshold of the door when his eyes fell on the double bed. Or rather, who was above of it.

Because yes, you were there, exactly where he expected to find you, but you were not on the bed. You were literally floating above it, like a bee on a flower.

Bruce smiled amusedly, because honestly that was nothing new. That was something that often happened when you were asleep: entering the world of dreams was as if your powers merged with them and not being able to control them of your own will, sometimes you happened to rise into the air in the middle of the night. Sometimes you slipped away from Bruce's arms, but other times you even took him up with you.

But Bruce didn't care, he was used to it. And he would never blame you because that was just who you were. And he would always love you, for every virtue and every flaw.

So he approached you silently until he was at your side. Meanwhile, you continued to float above his head as if nothing had happened, clutching the pillow under one arm and your eyelids fluttering every now and then, surely because of the dream you were living in your mind.

"Sweetheart" he murmured softly, reaching up to gently pull the blanket that covered your body and that was floating with you. "Wake up my love"

After a few seconds you squinted and then finally opened your eyes in the darkness.

"Mhh" you moaned and your eyes landed on your husband's face. "Bruce... Hi, what is it?"

Bruce smiled comfortingly, moving his hand to your arm.

"Forgive me, i didn't mean to disturb you" he replied, running his warm palm back and forth along your arm. "You're floating again"

It was at that moment that despite your tiredness you realized how low his face was compared to yours and you pressed your lips together. "Oh..."

Your body slowly returned down to rest on the soft mattress and you adjusted your position to cover yourself, finally looking at your husband from below, as it was supposed to be.

"Thank you" you gave him an embarrassed smile. "Sorry"

He leaned down to kiss your forehead and then walked around the bed to his side, sitting on the edge to take off his shoes and lie down under the covers.

"You have nothing to apologize for, i always tell you that" he reassured you as he lay down and you wasted no time in snuggling into his side. "You know i don't really care if you sleep mid air. I'd just prefer to fall sleep with you in my arms sometimes"

"I know, but i hate when it happens" you replied with a small pout.

You felt his strong arm wrap around your shoulders to hold you close and you closed your eyes, resting your head on his bicep, ready to go back to sleep. "Because i like falling asleep in your arms too"

Bruce smiled again, tilting his head to kiss your forehead one more time and watched you fall asleep again within minutes, lulled by his warmth and his sweet caresses that you had missed that night.

"I know my love"

DICK

Dick was the most affectionate of the boys and this meant that at every opportunity he would stick to you like a mussel and he wasn't afraid to show it. Whether it was for a simple nap together, when you were cooking or cleaning the house, while he was watching tv with you, in the shower, when you went out... You name it. He was always glued to you. And during the night he was no exception.

Even when the temperatures were the highest he would close his arms around your body and hold you to his chest as if you were a stuffed animal that comforted him from his nightmares. And you, somehow, always managed to fall asleep, no matter how glued he was to you.

But Dick was like that and there were just a few times that you told him to let go because that was just the way he showed his affection and you appreciated him for it.

And the fact that your boyfriend was clingy meant that whatever happened to you... Well, he was there to suffer it too.

Specifically, i'm talking about when your superpowers got out of control and while that almost never happened when you were awake, the same couldn't be said for when you were asleep. Because when you were dreaming it was like your body and mind were letting go and often it happened that without realizing it you found yourself floating in the middle of the night.

Now, Dick was used to your powers and all, but the first time he witnessed your 'sleepwalking flight' he felt a little taken aback. But he remembers it like it was yesterday.

Imagine the scene.

You and Dick were fast asleep (he was even snoring and almost drooling on your head) and of course his strong arms were around your body from behind you, holding you to his chest in a firm warm and affectionate hug even in your sleep.

At a certain point however, he had to open his eyes, awakened by that horrible feeling of a dry throat that screamed at him to get a fresh glass of water to quench his thirst. So Dick rubbed a hand over his eyes to wake up and reluctantly let go of your body to turn on the other side and get out of bed. But when he stretched his legs towards the floor...

Dick's eyes widened and he felt like his breath was taken away for a fraction of a second when he realized he wasn't lying on his soft bed but floating right above it, blanket included.

"Oh fuc- Woahh!"

And before he could react, he fell down with a cry. Luckily his fall was softened by the bed itself, but that didn't stop him from rolling onto the floor with a heavy thud. That and his scream were enough to wake you up too and after you woke up with a start, abruptly interrupting your dream, you fell too but your trajectory allowed you to land on the matress unlike your boyfriend.

Dick still sitting on the floor, groaned in pain and then he sharply turned to you.

"Baby!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What was that??"

The lamp on your nightstand turned on and then he heard you get off the bed and walk quickly to his side and then he saw you crouch down in front of him.

"Oh my god Dickie i'm so sorry!" you looked at him worriedly, placing one hand on his cheek and the other on his head, making him tilt it to see if there were any bruises. "Are you hurt??"

Dick waved a hand with a small, pained smile. "Nah, i'm fine. I've been through worse. Just... What just happened?"

You let out a small sigh and let yourself fall backwards, sitting on the floor. "My powers. It happens to me sometimes when i'm sleeping, especially when i'm having particularly weird dreams or nightmares. My parents told me i've been doing it since i was little"

He nodded in understanding. "Oh. I see"

You looked down, feeling sorry and embarrassed by what had happened.

"Forgive me, i forgot to tell you. I didn't mean for you to get hurt, honey. Are you sure you're really okay?"

Dick nodded again, forgetting the pain to give you his classic dazzling smile. "It's okay, sweetheart, really. These are things i have to get used to if i want to be with someone with superpowers"

And you giggled fondly, leaning forward to give him a couple of affectionate kisses on the temple.

"I guess that's the price you have to pay for clinging to me all the time, huh?" you murmured against his skin and he placed his hands on your waist to keep you close to him.

"I guess it is"

JASON

Jason was big and bulky but he was a light sleeper and since he was also very protective of you, he was always alert in case something happened during the night.

In fact, the slow movement of his arm that was rising against his will was enough to disturb him from his sleep. Jason opened his eyes but did not worry about being possessed by some strange demon. He sighed when he saw what was happening next to him. Or rather, above him.

"Babyyy" he moaned with a heavy yawn, but he received no response from you who were still sound asleep.

Immediately the hand of his arm that was rising and sliding from its position around your back, reached out to grab your wrist before you could rise too high for him to reach while still lying down. When you felt his warm palm touch you, you woke up too and when you opened your eyes you saw Jason dragging you down towards him, making you return to his side in the same place where you had fallen asleep a few hours ago.

"Where did you think you were going mh?" your boyfriend asked, his voice still thick with sleep, wrapping his muscular arm around your back (again) and pulling you close.

"Sorry" you muttered slightly embarrassed in the darkness of the room, snuggling against his shoulder.

It wasn't that you were new to floating during the night, but it wasn't something you were always proud of in his presence.

"'S okay" he replied, tilting his head to nuzzle yours and plant a kiss on it, while he closed his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. "But if you want to go for a fly, at least let's do it together"

And you smiled, closing your eyes as well while your hand automatically went to rest on his chest.

"Sure"

TIM

Tim wasn't known for being a big sleeper. And you hated more than anything to be the one ruining the few hours of sleep he could afford, disturbing him with your powers when you started floating in the middle of the night without your control.

But Tim was a sweet soul and he always reassured you by telling you that it was not a bother for him if he slept in the air rather than on the bed. He would sleep anywhere, even on the floor and even for just five minutes, just to be with you.

"Are you really sure it's not a problem for you?" you asked again, looking at your boyfriend with uncertain eyes.

Tim lifted his head from your chest, returning your gaze with a sleepy one, already half asleep mostly thanks to the effect of your hand caressing his hair, while the other was resting on his back.

His arms dangled in the air falling on both sides of your body, while his legs remained comfortably resting on yours. Luckily Tim, even though he was well trained, didn't have a body as large as Jason or Bruce, otherwise he would have fallen to the ground.

"Babe" he replied and his exasperated look gave way to a slight smile. "For the umpteenth time, yes. It's not a problem"

"But what if you move and fall to the floor? Or what if I move and make you fall to the floor?"

"We're not that high up" Tim sighed, glancing at the bed below you and then looking back at you. "You're talking to Red Robin, if i fall i can handle it"

"But-"

Tim shushed you by leaning in to give you a small kiss on the lips and of course you returned it, letting yourself go and forgetting your worries for a few seconds, while your hand in his hair slid down to his cheek.

"No more 'buts'. I promise you nothing will happen" he continued when he pulled away. "And you know i don't sleep much anyway, so if i were to fall i'd notice"

"Hmm" you muttered still uncertain. "Okay... If you're sure"

Tim gave you a smile and settled more comfortably, resting his head back on your chest and closing his eyes. One of your hands caressed his back with your fingertips and you rested your chin on his hair.

"But please, wake me up if something happens" you added and you felt him nod slowly against you.

"Mh, will do. 'Night babe"

"Goodnight Timmy"

DAMIAN

You and Damian were sleeping peacefully in your bed, him in front of you with an arm on your shoulders pulling you against his body and your arms tightly wrapped around his slim waist, while one of your legs was trapped between his.

Damian had fallen asleep lulled by your breaths against his collarbone, but like Jason he was always alert during sleep, no matter what time it was. In fact, when he suddenly felt your bodies start to rise in the air he slowly opened his eyes but he didn't panic or get scared, knowing perfectly well what was happening. And above all who was making it happen.

Damian laid his eyes on you with a loving gaze, admiring you despite the darkness. He found it funny that despite your intertwined bodies were literally floating a couple of meters away from the bed, you continued to sleep deeply as if nothing had happened. He even saw your lips curve upwards and he also smiled tenderly in turn, wondering who knows what you were dreaming of to smile like that.

Damian then noticed that you and him were getting closer and closer to the ceiling as you floated upwards. But before your head or his could hit it, he raised an arm to rest his hand against the ceiling, stopping the movement in mid-air. The other hand that was on your shoulders instead, slid up until it reached your head, covering it with his palm in a protective way.

Oh if you had been awake to see it your heart would have fluttered with joy and Damian knew that too. He cared for you in every way, both with the little things and the more heroic ones, as he had learned in his life as Robin.

Due to the impact of his palm against the ceiling it was as if your body bounced like a balloon and went back down, continuing to drag Damian with you until you finally stopped in mid-air. He reached out to your face to stroke your forehead with his thumb.

"Beloved" he murmured.

Just hearing him call your name once, accompanied by the lovely feeling of his finger rubbing against your skin, woke you up. You squeezed your eyes and then opened them, looking at your boyfriend with the typical expression of a child just disturbed from his nap.

"Mmh, what is it Dami?"

Damian gave you a smile while continuing to caress you, while you felt your eyelids still drooping from tiredness.

"You're doing it again" he simply said.

There was silence for a few seconds. And then without saying anything both of your bodies began to descend, until you gently rested on the bed again. Damian felt you wiggle in his arms while you tried to get comfortable against him and even closer if possible, looking for his body heat.

"Sorry" you muttered, pressing your face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. "I promise i won't do it again... 'Swear..."

And a few seconds later your breathing against his skin became heavier. You had fallen asleep again, without any difficulty.

Damian's emerald eyes looked at you amused while his hand found its favorite place on the back of your head, his fingers caressing you affectionately. Because that wasn't the first time you told him you wouldn't do it again and he knew it wouldn't be the last either.

"I count on it beloved"

DUKE (i added him too because i felt bad leaving him out😔)

The alarm clock on his nightstand went off and he reached out to turn it off. When Duke opened his eyes and turned to you with a sleepy smile, he thought he would find your angelic still sleeping face to greet him. But his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he noticed that you were not on your side of the bed.

"Uh... Weird" he thought.

Because he was usually the first one of you to wake up and it always took him a good few minutes to get you out of bed. Could that be the first time you had gotten up before him and had already made breakfast? Was it perhaps a special day?

Duke smiled amusedly, but then he noticed another detail. Your pillow was in its right place, but the large blanket you shared was gone.

"That's why i was cold last night..." the man muttered, after realizing that he had spent the rest of the night without a blanket. But why?

A familiar yawn from above his head caught his attention and Duke looked up. And when he saw your body floating above the bed, his heart skipped a beat.

You stirred, awakened by your boyfriend's alarm clock and the famous missing large blanket slipped from your body, falling onto the bed beneath you. You then turned to look down at him with a sweet, innocent smile.

"Good morning"

Duke let out a small, scared cry and jumped up from the bed. "L-Love! What are you doing up there!?"

You looked at him in confusion and lowered your head, finally noticing the distance from your side of the bed. "Oh... Oh crap!"

With his heart still pounding, Duke watched you calmly slide down until you were back on the ground. You then gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Um, surprise?"

Duke walked over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Are you okay??" he asked still scared, looking you up and down. "I thought you were... Possessed or something!"

You chuckled, waving a hand. "What are you talking about, Duke? It was just my powers"

He seemed to relax. He knew about your powers, but he never expected to see something like that.

"Oh..." then he sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. It was unexpected, you almost gave me a heart attack"

You gave him a sorry smile, taking his hand to comfort him.

"I'm sorry, i didn't mean to scare you. I completely forgot to tell you that sometimes while i sleep i lose control of my powers and start flying. It's been happening to me since i was little. Imagine what would happen if i slept in the open air"

He also finally laughed and he hugged you and you felt his body relax under your palms.

"How about i make breakfast to make up for it, mh?" you then asked and he nodded with a big smile.

"I'd really like that"

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU GOT A GIRL ?

summary : in which Tim's brothers find out he not only has a girlfriend but she's actually real and attractive and idk dating HIM of all people ???

Tim Drake is a busy man , his family knew that I meant come on ?? The kid is Red Robin, juggling Wayne Enterprises , solving cases, and not mention he attends college.

Not in a million years would they guess he of all of them would have a girlfriend and that he of all of them would have a functional relationship before any if them.

It started subtle at first - he'd finish patrol early , not really a big deal since they'd all assume he was busy with school and just had to go home.

Well truns out he was going home just not to do work just to simply have dinner with you.

The next sign was that he had a picture of you at the back of his phone - it's encased safely behind the clear casing . Dick saw it at first and shrugged it off, thinking it was a kpop idol or some model Tim liked alot - nope it was just him being in love with you and just showing it off.

Tim unironically smells better ? Damian doesn't know how to place it - its not that Tim ever smelled bad or had bad hygiene it's just that he's been particularly very into it as of late - he literally even has a skin care routine now but Damian writes it off as Tim being curious or weird.

Tim also starts dressing classier too like he wears good slacks or nice baggy jeans with fitted tops - showing off his slim but muscular figure as of late - he even asked Jason to borrow one of his old leather jackets and hey - Jason didn't mind lending his brother one - he just thought Tim was getting into the grunge style like him. Nope, it turns out Tim overheard you saying guys in leather jackets were hot, so of course, he had to get the real thing.

Flash forward to like a year and a half down the line and one day all three of them were talking about how Tim was glowing up and getting himself in shape .

Dick : " you know Tim's been idk dressing up as of late ".

Damian : " smh it's like he's pathetically trying to impress someone "

Jason : " I thought he was just idk changing his style ?"

Dick : " you think ? Plus he's been ending patrol early lately"

Damian : " he's a nerd Grayson , knowing him he gets home earlier to study or what not ".

Jason : *cackling* " and he wonders why he can't get a girlfriend "

*Tim who just walked in and overheard jason* : " I literally have a girlfriend. What do you mean ?"

Pin drop silence . Everyone stares at him, eye wide and then they burst out cackling.

Jason : " Timmy boy a blow up sex doll doesn't count a girlfriend"

Dick : *laughing* " Tim the day you get a girlfriend is the day the world would end"

Damian : " Timothy, that's the best joke you have ever uttered."

Tim scowls at them , " I LITERALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHES A REAL PERSON"

Damian *still laughing* : " Alright Timothy, let's meet your so-called very real girlfriend."

Flash forward to two hours later and they're at a local Lego shop at the mall , the batboys are all confused .

Jason : " Tim, when we said a real girl, we didn't mean a Lego woman figure"

Tim just rolled his eyes - annoyed because he can't fathom why they didn't think he can't have a girlfriend .

Not even two minutes passed, and you bolted out of the store and engulfed Tim in a big hug and began kissing him all over his face. Tim wore a big , smug smile as he wrapped his hand around your waist and pressed you a forehead kiss.

Dick's mouth is too the floor , Jason's eyes just widen so big you'd swear his eyes will roll out and Damian looks like he's gonna hurl.

Damian : " I think - I think I going to die "

Jason *still in shock* : " There is no way this is real - literally no way I've got to be imagining shit "

Dick : " Someone pinch me " *Damian pinches him hard* " OUCH WHAT THE FUCK"

Jason points at you and then at Tim , " Miss is he holding you hostage -"

Tim rolls his eyes , " SHES MY GIRLFRIEND"

Damian tuts , " She's too hot to be with the likes of you she should date someone better "

Dick : " Like me -"

Shutting him down immediately, Tim : " Fuck no"

You awkwardly laughing , " So you're Tim's brothers ?"

Jason : " unfortunately ". *dick nudges him hard* " OW WTF"

You : " It's nice to meet you all I'm Tim's girlfriend "

Dick : " yeah that's the part we are all processing"

Damian : " Are you sure you're not talking about another tim?"

Tim , scowling : " Shut the fuck up demon she said she's my girlfriend so can yall stop being so annoying now "

You : " They didn't think you'd have a girlfriend ?"

Tim : " no and I don't know why especially since they themselves don't have one either "

Jason : " in my offense I died -"

Dick : " Pack it up. It's been 4 years since you came back. You got no excuse "

Jason : " I know the man who has fumbled every relationship he touches is not talking "

Damian : " This is all pointless. Love is stupid and worthless"

As the both continue to bicker back and forth, you turn to Tim with a wide grin , " Who do you think is worse ?"

Tim , pulling you in closer , : " Definitely Bruce "

*in a very far distance*

You laugh as you grab his hand and left him off somewhere , " Let's go get milkshakes".

Bruce *sneezes* : " Someone is trash talking me "

ty for reading !!!

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BRUCE was sprawled out on his bed, black sheets barely covering his naked body, his bulky thigh nudging its way out under and out of them when it got too hot. He kept his hand behind his head, half-lidded eyes never leaving your form as he watched you carefully.

“Again.”

You stood near his side of the bed, one leg propped up on it, naked except for one of Bruce's white button up shirts, the upper four buttons undone, courtesy of yours truly (Bruce Wayne). Your hand follows the skin of your leg from your calves, to your knees up, up to your thigh where your fingers hook under your simple sheer tights. Slowly, you begin to pull them down your leg, and Bruce's eyes follow the movement religiously. His lips part when your skin reappears under the delicate barrier, the act almost hypnotizing. 

Bruce inhales sharply when your whole leg gets exposed to him, and his eyes immediately trail up to your face, smiling lazily, a faint dimple showing “Again,” 

You roll your eyes playfully, biting back a smile, and yet you do as he says, somehow also getting worked up over this. You stare unabashedly at his chest, the way it rises and falls with each breath. Your eyes travel lower, down to his happy trail, and Bruce, ever so observant, notices this, and readjusts his hips slightly, making the sheet shift the slightest bit. When your eyes snap up to his, he raises his eyebrow in challenge. You huff, fingers beginning to work again, pulling the tights up your leg this time, slowly though, never rushing this. 

But you still wanted to fuck with him a little. So when you pull the tights just past your knee you stop completely and watch in amusement as Bruce’s gaze snaps up to yours immediately, eyes narrowing playfully, “That was the best part, and you ruined it,” he complains in a gruff voice, and you grin, “I know.”

He clicks his tongue as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, skimming his fingers over your skin, barely touching you as he went to resume your work, “I'll just have to do it for you then,” his fingers pull the tights up your pretty thigh, and he bites his lip when his work is done, hands now properly touching your skin over your tights, running them up and down your thigh appreciatively. 

“You’re insatiable.” you say as you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back the slightest bit, and Bruce groans lowly from the tug, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. He then looks up at you innocently, humming as if he was agreeing with you. 

Suddenly his hand wraps around your waist, and he tugs you closer, and you gasp when you fall on his lap,  tights long forgotten as he studies your face, grabbing your ass in both hands and lifting you up so you could prop your knees on either side of him, “I can't help it.” he confessed, before claiming your lips with his.

Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair as you kiss him back. Somehow the sheet was still bunched around his waist, covering his hard cock, and yet you waste no time and roll your hips against him. Bruce moans against your lips, his hold on you tightening.  His hands knead the skin of your ass, as he pulls away and starts pressing kisses down your jaw. You reward him with another roll of your hips, your pussy meeting his cock through the fabric, and he raises his hips the slightest bit, nudging your clit in the process. He hisses when you whimper, his hands now trailing up your bare back under your (his) shirt. “Sweet girl..”

Bruce’s kisses turn more filthy, now pressing open-mouthed kisses on your lips, panting against your mouth for just a second as he pulls away, and your tongue darts out to lick a line across his lips. His eyes turn dark, “Let me fuck you again.” he whispers against your lips, hand coming up to hold your face, thumb and pointer finger digging into each of your cheeks softly.

“I think you can do better than that.” You bite your lip when he rolls his eyes quickly, a smile tugging his lips up, “I can feel you dripping through the sheets, and you want me to beg?” he huffs out a chuckle, and you gasp in faux offense. You turn to look away from him teasingly but he tilts your head back to him with a tut.

You shake off his hold on your face, and in turn take both his cheeks in your palms, eyes dancing across his. Rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, you lean in to whisper against his ear, “Want to fuck me in them?”

Satisfaction pools inside your belly when you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows harshly, and he groans, dropping his head to bite down at your shoulder teasingly. “Yes. Please.”

You grin, moving to stand up, not before Bruce swats your ass playfully. You shoot him an unconvincing glare, and he just shrugs, leaning back with his palms supporting his weight, eyes never trailing up and down your form. “Don't rip them this time.”

Bruce smiles. “I won't.”

Later, when you find yourself panting against the floor-to-ceiling window of his room, the glass foggy as you press your cheek against it to look at Bruce over your shoulder, whimpering when he pulls out of you, his hand pulling the cheek of your ass taut to watch his cum drip out of your pussy, your eyes catch sight of your ripped tights, your pussy and most of your ass free from the material in a perfect circle. You swallow down your whimper when he shoves two fingers inside your puffy cunt, pushing his cum back inside you, “You lied,” you somehow manage to utter.

Bruce's eyes snap up to yours, his eyebrows furrowing momentarily, sweat dripping down his temple, but then he notices. Sees where you're looking. His eyes glint devilishly, and he gives you the most shit eating grin you've ever seen, “Guess I did.”

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[faesdreaming]

cardinal concept

yandere platonic batfam with a resurrected reader

a/n: because as much as i love neglected reader, dead (then alive again) reader just has so much potential

the dynamic duo, batman and robin. bruce wayne and dick grayson. then, you came along; a result of bruce’s irresponsible coupling with a young woman he’d long since forgotten about. you grow up in the nastier parts of gotham with your mother, where you’re forces to grow up faster and become more mature, until she has an accident.

after you’re mother’s untimely death, you find yourself under his care. bruce is hesitant and unsure, he’s already struggled with raising dick. he doesn’t want to fail you too. he dances around telling about batman until you happen upon the batcave, at your insistence and a few instances of you following them, he relents and lets you join.

suddenly, it’s batman, robin, and cardinal.

bruce is initially unsure what to do with you, even after you become cardinal. unlike with dick, who needed to become robin lest he go down a darker road, you’re only cardinal because of him. it draws out an agonizing guilt, causing bruce to practically coddle you. but you’re emotionally intelligent, in a way bruce isn’t, you’re able to communicate with soft words and gentle reasoning instead of shouting matches and tearful pouting like your brother. you’re his angel, his sweet, understanding angel. it reminds him of his own mother. you’re kind, empathetic disposition is everything bruce needs in his life. because yes, to him, your brother needs his guidance. but bruce needs yours.

as for dick his relationship is with you as simple as this: he’s the big brother and you’re the little sibling. you can fight and argue, but you two always make up and head off to snuggle or play. you’re bond grows stronger the more time you spend on patrol— having each other’s back, getting into trouble with batman— or at school— although you’re in a younger grade, you still see your big brother at school and go to him when you have problems— or at home— snuggled up, watching a movie and eating snacks provided by alfred— you two are extremely close.

you’re little of family of four— including alfred, of course— is tight-knit. you fight and argue but always make up and you’re always there for each other.

until dick becomes nightwing and a scruffy teen named jason todd joins you. as close as you are with your older brother and father, you bond with him far quicker. maybe it’s because of how close you are in age, or maybe it’s because of your shared past experiences.

the family dynamics shift and change, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. dick grows more distant, going off with the titans. but that’s to be expected, he’s grown up now. you still visit him, of course. and he still pops by to see you. bruce, you notice, softens, almost. he’s grown accustomed to parenthood. jason is your favourite change, though. a sibling close in age, but still younger, so can justify (playfully) bossing him around. your family isn’t perfect, but it’s yours and you love it.

then, jason and bruce start fighting. dick goes off world. a fight with bane leaves you injured and out of commission. it’s just a rough patch, you tell yourself. until, suddenly, jason’s birth mother contacts him. something’s off about it. you want to tell your dad, however, jason is adamant you shouldn’t. reluctantly, you don’t, opting to go along with him just in case.

your gut, as it turns out, was right. you’re injured and unable to do much as the joker captures you and jason. you’re helpless to watch as your brother, your sweet baby brother, is beaten mercilessly with a crowbar. your voice is hoarse from screaming during your own beating and your body is sore, but despite it all, you still rasp out pleas to let your brother go. one child will be effective enough. the joker can spare one. of course, in his cruelty, he doesn’t.

you’re left aching, battered, and bruised. the ticking of the bomb serves as the count to your death. jason, brave jason, tries to gather enough strength to get up. and maybe, just maybe, he could escape if he weren’t focused on trying to save you. he won’t listen to your pleas for him to go, to leave you behind. he’s adamant upon accompanying you to your doom.

you hear the final ticks. with all the strength you have left, you move towards him. you cannot save yourself. you cannot save him. all you can do is die beside him. pressing your forehead to his, the last thing you see is your little brother’s face before the final tick sounds and the ensuing explosion consumes you.

and that’s the end of it, your journey, your life. you’re buried alongside your brother in a sombre ceremony, your uniform cased in glass as a memorial to bruce’s failures. he becomes angrier, loses himself. he’s lost two of his children and is fighting with his only remaining one. dick, is utterly furious, with himself and bruce. he blames bruce. for letting his precious siblings die, for starting them all of this heroic crusade. he blames himself for not being there, for being distant with you and jason.

alas, time marches forwards and batman needs a new robin, in the form of one tim drake. he’s a clever kid, one way too smart for his own good. one you used to babysit while his rich parents were away to earn some extra cash. it wasn’t right, leaving him with no one his age to play with. so, when you could, you’d come over. you’d soothe his loneliness. and for that, he’s forever grateful.

your influence continues beyond your death. for you life has impacted so many. barbara gordan, for example, who viewed you akin to a little sister. who fought alongside you as batgirl. you were loved by many as (Y/N) Wayne. your friends and family still hold candles for you. even as they accept your lose, they never stop fully grieving for you and the lost potential brimming inside you. then, there are those who you impacted as cardinal. as a hero, you saved numerous lives, including that of one stephanie brown, who will forever feel indebted to you and strives to become just like you.

the justice league, who knew you as one of the first sidekicks, who functioned like extended family, mourn deeply for your loss and offer sympathies to your father and brother. they will remember you and your tenacity, carrying on their pursuit of justice with you in mind. certainly villains, such as poison ivy and even harley quinn, are enraged with the joker. while you could occasionally be a pain, you were their favourite kiddie hero. and of course the likes of selina kyle and talia al ghul, your father’s paramours, women who became like family to you.

cardinal will be forever immortalized in the hearts of heroes and villains alike, your legacy of compassion and kindness living on in memories transformed into stories, your death a testament to sacrifice and love and heroism— except, that isn’t how it ends, is it? no. your story doesn’t end with your death, it’s how it begins.

and your real story begins by waking in the constricting confined of your casket, bursting out with inhuman strength, fueled by the adrenaline boost, and digging your way out of your grave, the cool mud giving way to harsh ground until you break through the service. that night, that stormy gotham eve, is the day you are reborn.

you flee then wander the streets of gotham until you regain your mind. you remember, you remember everything and you, you don’t want to go back. not to your family, not to your friends, not the life you once knew. you were given a new life. and this life, you would live for yourself.

sans your old attachments, you live encumbered, untroubled by past woes. yet, you seem to forget your festering memory, the mark you’ve left on people. you forget that while you may be willing to leave your old life behind, they aren’t as willing to let you go. especially when they learn you’re within reach.

[hanasnx]

need bruce wayne to fuck me in the mating press position. like he just thinks i need an attitude adjustment and a good fucking will most definitely do the trick. and because he’s so big there’s nowhere for me to go. i’m crying because of how hard he’s fucking me and he’s just like “is this not what you wanted? 🥰

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

“Relax,” the deep reverb of BRUCE WAYNE’s command sends a shiver down your spine. You clutch onto his rotator cuff a little tighter, and a tremor of effort shakes your thighs from the base. Two large hands keep your knees pinned to your ears. A brutal pace is interrupted, leisurely rolling his hips into you while you catch your breath.

“I can’t…” you begin, defeated, “I can’t do any more,”

“You can.” his tone leaves no room for argument even if it’s encouraging, “Take deep breaths.” As he instructs, he sheaths fully. An indomitable length is reintroduced to your walls, filling them to the brim and knocking the wind right out of you. As he rears his hips, you inhale like he said to. Gradually, he picks up the pace, adjusting your body for you accordingly while your hands slide to his chest. Perfectly sculpted and chiseled, you explore it to give new sensation to focus on while a thick cock makes a mess of your insides. “You’re not trying to quit on me, are you?” It’s a playfully coy comment, pricking his brow down at you while you chew on your bottom lip. “Where’s my big strong girl now?”

“I said I was sorry!” You hadn’t. Your pitiful plea only makes him snicker, a rumbling noise. A poor attitude from earlier didn’t follow you into the bedroom, laying on your back for him while you whimper at his body piling onto yours, quite literally drilling into you while you’re pinned.

[ahqkas]

Hello! ^^

First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.

♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.

( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.

he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.

“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.

bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”

alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”

he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )

the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.

alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”

DICK GRAYSON

dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.

( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.

“dick!”

“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.

“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )

dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.

one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.

JASON TODD

jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.

( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.

“jay!”

before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.

“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”

“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )

jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”

he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”

TIM DRAKE

tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.

( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.

suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.

“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”

“no promises.” )

your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.

he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[sugary-strawberry-shortcake]

“Take It Off.” (Yandere Older Brother!Damian x Sister!YN)

A/N: if any of you want to be included in a taglist for my series 'Reverse Bloom‘ feel free to just tell me. in the next few days I’ll make a separate taglist post too.🩷

Damian didn’t understand it at first. Why something so small—so ridiculously insignificant—would make his skin itch.

A pink ribbon. Soft. Loose. Curled into her hair like something innocent.

But when she wore it, the world changed. People stared longer. Teachers smiled differently. Boys laughed too loud around her locker. They didn’t see her as Y/N Wayne—sweet, shy, quiet. Pure. They saw something else.

Something they wanted to reach for.

And that wasn’t allowed.

She didn’t understand. Of course she didn’t. She was always naïve like that—always thinking she could make friends in a city that breaks everyone. She still smiled like she didn’t know how this world worked. Like she hadn’t died in it once already.

And now that he remembered?

He couldn’t unsee it.

The photo of her corpse on the slab. Her hair matted. Her wrists bruised. Her ribbon cut and discarded on the floor.

So when she walked in with it again—smiling, soft, stupidly sweet—his control snapped.

She was his blood. His sister. The only other biological child of Bruce Wayne. She was his responsibility. His to protect. His to watch over. His to keep safe when the rest of the world failed.

If she wanted attention, she should’ve asked for his. Or the family’s. Not the world’s.

He was trained to defend.

They were not.

She didn’t get to offer herself up to the public like that. Not when she was already the only delicate thing left in this house. And if that meant taking the ribbon, the smile, the freedom from her—then so be it.

She didn’t understand yet.

But she would.

The car door shut behind her with a soft click, the leather seats still warm from the morning sun.

YN settled in quietly, brushing her fingers through her hair—just enough to fluff it a little. The pink ribbon rested neatly near her temple, tied in a small bow, the ends tucked into her curls.

It was a delicate thing.

Soft. Feminine. Innocent.

And Damian had been staring at it since the moment she stepped out of the house.

The car pulled away from the curb.

Neither of them spoke.

Until—

“Take it off.”

She blinked, glancing at him. “What?”

He didn’t look at her. His voice stayed flat.

“The ribbon. Take it off.”

Her hand hovered near it. “…Why?”

“You don’t need a reason. Just do it.”

She frowned. “It’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s drawing attention.”

“And?”

Damian finally turned his head toward her, green eyes sharp.

“You know what kind of attention.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You can’t control how people look at me, Damian.”

“I can control how you present yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

He leaned slightly forward. “You think boys at that school aren’t already staring at you every time you walk through the hall?”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do.”

“You’re not my father,” she snapped.

“No,” he said, “but I’m stronger. Smarter. Faster. And unlike you, I understand what people are capable of.”

She glared at him, chin tilted. “You’re overreacting.”

“And you’re being reckless.”

“I’m wearing a ribbon.”

“A ribbon you don’t need,” he hissed, voice low and simmering.

Then—before she could flinch or pull away—his hand moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

She let out a startled gasp as his fingers curled into the fabric near her temple, not yanking—not quite—but firm, unyielding.

“Damian—”

She lifted her hand to stop him, but he was already there.

His other hand caught her wrist—easily. Her arm was like paper in his grip. His heart clenched. She was small. Frail. Soft in ways that didn’t belong in a world like Gotham. In a world he lived in.

And he knew it.

He had trained for war.

She could barely lift a textbook.

“Let go,” she whispered.

“Then stop acting like you’re not mine to protect.”

She froze.

His fingers slipped the ribbon from her hair. She tried to jerk back—not to fight, not really, just to reclaim a little space.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t loosen his hold until the ribbon was curled in his palm.

He looked at it.

Then looked at her.

Her hair was mussed now, the curl loosened where the ribbon had been. She looked younger. Smaller.

He hated that she looked upset.

He hated more that she still didn’t understand.

“Don’t wear things that make people look at you like that,” he said softly. “I won’t allow it.”

She stared at him, cheeks flushed, breathing tight.“You don’t get to decide what I wear.” He didn’t answer.

He just slipped the ribbon into his pocket and leaned back in his seat.

She turned toward the window, shoulders trembling with quiet frustration.

And neither of them said another word for the rest of the ride.

She never asked for the ribbon back.

And he never returned it.

Authors note:

my first drabble of a singular member. Will probably do a few more. If you have any requests feel free to tell them to me.:)

[starvales]

a/n : a small contribution to bruce wayne x gn!neglected!reader bcs i love these kinds of stories. the reader is bruce’s child (younger than dick, older than jason ((reader not specified if biological or adopted)) and is in their mid-twenties.

“After all these years, of neglect and ignorance and dismissals, why should I do anything for you? You don’t know anything about me!”

“I know everything about you. Your full name, your birthday, your qualifications—”

You cut him off.

“—If you know me so well, tell me something about me that isn’t projected on a screen in your man-cave.” You slam a specific folder onto the strategy table and snatch the contents inside.

“Tell me something about me that isn’t public knowledge—” Throwing the few and sparse pages at your father, you don’t falter at his stare while he does nothing to stop you.

You remembered praying for a day like this, begging every night against your bed. A day where your father spared you a glance, for even a second. And what did it take?

“For fuck’s sake, tell me something about me that isn’t on a piece of flimsy paper tucked away in an old manila folder gathering dust!”

Almost two decades of complete familial solitude and a favour that apparently only you could fulfil.

One of the pages fall in front of Bruce and he gently takes it into his hold. There’s a picture of you at the top left, barely hanging on by a cheap paper clip. The you in the portrait is staring mechanically at the camera, staring back soullessly at him.

You’re… fifteen in this photo, he thinks.

“Sure, you know my birthday. But what was the flavour of my cake for my first birthday that was celebrated in the manor? I wouldn’t know, because I didn’t have one, let alone anyone to celebrate with.”

You’re seven years old, sitting in front of a sloppy attempt at a cupcake in a cold kitchen, because you couldn’t reach the switches to turn on the heating or lights.

“You know my list of achievements and qualifications— But goddamnit Bruce, why did you not come to any of my award ceremonies or graduations?”

You’re sixteen, graduating high school early with high honours, thinking that maybe, just maybe, your family will show up. You end up walking back to the manor in the dark.

You’re twenty one, graduating gotham university with a doctorate in engineering. The only difference with this graduation, you drive yourself home.

“I was busy and you know that,” Bruce states. States instead of says, because you know he doesn’t know how to speak to you.

“No, I didn’t know that. Wanna know why?”

You round the table, clenching your fists and grinding your teeth, you got right in his face and spat venom.

“Because you didn’t have the decency to tell me yourself.”

[snowluvvie]

₊˚⊹♡ secretarial work is supposed to be simple—not always easy, but simple. working in BRUCE WAYNE’s office is anything but simple. chasing the man around, your heels tapping insistently against the tile as you practically beg him to attend the meetings he scheduled. clucking your tongue at him and reminding him countless times to sign the documents you left on his desk, but it’s no use. he’s preoccupied, his dark eyes always seemingly elsewhere, like he always manages to find something more important to think about—more important than running his billion dollar corporation. you’re constantly sitting at your desk, rubbing your eyes in frustration, like you’re babysitting instead of working at Wayne Enterprises. and the cherry on top of it all: Bruce has the sheer audacity to call you distracting. he ignores your nagging in favor of dragging a hand up and down your leg, scratching his nails against your tights. you’re asking him to sign something for the sixth time and he’s bending you over his desk, pushing you down by the back of your neck, asking “this paperwork? which ones, hm? show me.” your face inches away from the wood, nose brushing the papers you’d left there earlier.

[axstoria]

Being in love with Bruce Wayne is like hugging shards of glass.

He's a deep lover. He'll lather you in diamonds and jewels, hold you in front of the mirror, and call you beautiful while kissing your neck and ear and everywhere his lips can reach.

Bruce is a charitable man. He'll meet your parents and friends, acting all sweet and kind. When he finds out that your best friend needs a job, he'll hire them on the spot to ensure that you don't lose this important figure in your life. He donates to causes that you like and makes sure that the restoration fund for that museum you visit on the weekends stays up and running.

He's a good father. Over time, he'll introduce you to all his children (a few of which give you forced smiles, because who are you to be dating their dad?). The kids grow to love you, or tolerate you as best they can.

He's a forgetful man. Not in the sense that he doesn't remember important dates or anniversaries, but he finds the line between his time as Bruce and his time as Batman to be more strict than he would like. Romantic dinners were turned into patrols, leaving you alone in the manor, comforted only by a disgruntled butler. He raised that boy better than this.

He's a passionate man. His work as Bruce Wayne and Batman will overshadow his love for you at times. He'll hole himself up in his office instead of coming to bed like you wanted. He'll work himself until the breaking point and push you away and hurt you.

He's a lonely man. He'll beg you to stay, offering empty promises. No, he won't quit being Batman, even if you tell him you want to end the relationship. His crusade means too much to him. He'll fight until the day he dies, and if he has to be loveless again because of it, so be it.

Bruce Wayne is a playboy. He'll catch your eye at galas, a new woman on his arm each time. You don't miss the hint of longing in his gaze, and he doesn't miss the fury in yours. He'll never say sorry and you both know it.

Loving Bruce Wayne is like killing yourself slowly, from the inside out, leaving anyone who dares to fall tumbling into the endless void that is the Dark Knight.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

New Side

Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

MDNI

wc: 3.1 K warnings: 18+, established relationship, thigh riding, p in v, creampie, tits play, possessive!Bruce, overstimulation (?), hairpulling, cnc (?), praise, sweet aftercare, no y/n used, petnames such as "sweetheart" summary: After being hesitant about your suggestion, he finally gives in and tries a different way to release his pent up frustration. a/n: This is a little different from what I usually write and I am deeply ashamed of it, I honestly think I will never post this so,,,, have fun! if you don't like it, please scroll, idk if this is cringe or not,,,,, Also, sorry for only posting smut drabbles about Bruce, but I am also writing a series about him with way less smut → ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗

Usually, Bruce doesn‘t let his frustration and annoyance show that easily around you, preferring to keep it to himself, and later on punch the life out of a poor punching bag. But tonight, there was no punching bag avaible, being stuck in a hotel room for the night until you can both fly back to the Manor. Luckily, the gala hadn‘t brought as much difficulties, it was the planning and organising that gave him a constant headache. Bruce couldn‘t allow to get dissatisfied reporters, who complain about his slight change of tone during the thousands of questions they tend to ask. It felt especially difficult last evening, which resulted in him growing quiet on the way back to the hotel room, an upcoming headache threating to attack him soon enough.

Of course, you notice every little twitch and light exhale of irritation, trying to think of something to make him feel better afterwards. Not wanting to add onto his weariness, you go about your usual night routine before settling into bed beside him. Bruce lays back against the bed frame, having his tablet in hands to check up on the news and possible new cases waiting for him. As you take him in, you scoot closer to his side under the blanket, shoulder pressing into his. Without second thought, his arm wrap over you shoulders, pulling you into his side.

»You know, about that idea I once proposed… now‘s the perfect time.« You muse gently, your lips lightly trailing against his bare shoulder, eyes focused on his side profile. He gives a short grunt back, unsure if he acknowledged your words or not. After a brief silence, he speaks up too, eyes not straying from his display.

»I remember.«

He muses back and lets out a quiet sigh, relaxing his muscles a fraction under your light touch.

»So? You don‘t wanna try?« Another silence stretches between the you both, the only sound being the light pecks you leave across his shoulder at your side. After what feels like an eternity for you, he speaks up, his voice measured and eyes carrying a hint of curiosity.

»I don‘t want to hurt you. Besides, I can just wait until we get back, I don‘t have a punching bag for nothing.«

Right. He is hesitant again — not because he doesn‘t want to try something new — but because he can‘t, and won‘t, allow himself to hurt you during a pleasureable time. But with that look you give him, the way you bat your eyelashes at him oh, so sweetly, lips tracing gentle paths against his shoulder —

No. Surely, not.

»Please? I wanna try. I really do.«

Yes. A hundred percent, whatever you ask him to.

»Are you sure you wanna try that? I tend to get… intense when I am tired out.« He prods again, not entirely convinced of it yet and wants to be as sure as he can be before possibly agreeing.

»Very sure. Besides, we haven‘t had some action for quite a while.«

You answer back and lift your head off of his shoulder, face being at level with his own. The sheets rustle over you as Bruce finally lays his tablet away and shifts to face you better.

»Okay… but we‘ll start slow. And I want a safe word between us.«

The fact that he considers it all and starts to get more engaged in the discussion feels like a little success. But thinking of a safe word gets a little difficult at first, having to try to find a word that you usually don‘t say when he is balls deep inside you.

»Pineapple? Or just apple? It‘s shorter.«

Bruce nods after a small consideration, seeming satsified with the suggestion. »Apple it is.«

Oh god. Did he just agree? Are you going to— okay… this is totally fine, he isn‘t being absolutely hot for no reason at all. His hand brushes along your upper arm, eyes raking subtly over your form before settling back on your face; taking in the soft light glowing over you face.

Without any further words, you take the first initiative and settle yourself over his lap, straddling one of his thighs. A small sigh leaves him, relaxing his body and settling his hands on your hips.

»Comfy?« His voice husky and quiet, eyes settling on the way your panties shine under your big shirt. You feel his warm palms rake higher up your hips, tugging the material of your shirt up. He sees your light nod to his question, feeling the faint warmth of your core against his bare thigh.

The air around you both grows more intimate again, the only source of light being the warm lamp above the bed, and the soft glow from the LED lights around the ceiling of hotel room.

With a soft hitch of your breath, a familiar shiver runs down your spine once your hips start grinding against his thigh. Using his chest to lean your hands on, breaths growing heavier. Bruce encourages you, hands controlling your movements to make sure you get proper friction.

»That‘s it...« He murmurs softly, eyes locked on the way your lacy panties rub against his bare thigh, as he is clad in boxers. In this moment, he realises he could watch this scene for hours, if not days straight. The way your hips fit so perfectly into his hands, how easily you give yourself to him without second thought… his eyes are already hazy, the only thing on his mind is your pretty cunt.

The grinding starts to grow easier with how slick you are, the wetness soaking through the thin material and right against his rough skin. »Look at you...« his words reach your ears, your core clenching at his rough voice, »you are a mess, and it‘s all because of me, hm?«

You shiver as his thumb traces over your wetness, gently rubbing against you. The added friction causes your eyes to close tightly, trying to restrain a small whimper. His eyes stay glued on you, clearly devouring every little sound and reaction you give.

It is only a matter of time until he loses his patience and decides you are worked up enough, the way your slick covers his thigh is enough to make him groan. Your hips stutter and pause, too focused on the way his fingers rub you just right, the tight circles against your core make your heart race. Bruce sees it as a sign to take charge again, swiftly moving you to lay on your back, his broad form hovering over you. The loss of his warm hand leaves you frowning up at him, his own mind growing frenzied with the way you stare up at him.

»Be good for me, sweetheart...«

The words roll off his tongue easily, making your body relax again and be patient. Your eyes drink in the way his muscles flex under his movements, landing on his throbbing and slick cock. The pair of boxers get discarded to the floor and he focuses his attention back to you. Finally, able to get relief, Bruce wastes no time to lean down on you, his lips finding your nipple and sucking on it shamelessly.

Your back arches off the bed with a soft gasp, not a moment later, his hands strip the panties off of you and settles between your legs. The needy suckle and nibbles on your perky breasts makes you want to shy away, but his hands hold you down, set firmly on your waist. A low growl leaves him, his lips travelling to the other breast, »Be still… wanna feel you.« One hand leaves your waist, instead kneading at your chest, thumb circling around your nipple.

The room spins around you and you are only able to focus on the gentle sucks and kneading of your breasts, trying to stay as still as possible for him. Your breathing gets heavier, chest burning with desire and arousal. Bruce doesn‘t let up, pressing his sensitive tip against your entrance and exhales heavily against you.

A soft grunt leaves him once he pushes in, able to get a smooth entry without needing much adjustment. Your slick is enough to make him fit perfectly, not needing any more prep than that.

»Taking me so well, aren‘t ya?« He mutters out as he leans back, settling deeper into you. His cock stretches you out so well, fitting and pressing into you in all the right places. Your fingers dig into the sheets underneath you, holding in your breath to hold back any screams. His burning gaze stays focused on your face, waiting for you to adjust and be ready before he can shut his mind off and take responsibility later.

The first thrust takes your breath away again, a sharp exhale leaving you. His eyes lock on yours as he slowly starts up, building a gentle pace at first. The only thing he can focus on is how snug you are, the way your eyes can‘t even focus on him properly — that‘s when his control slips for the first time. His hips snap harder against you, hitting you deeper with less gentleness behind his actions.

You feel the deep strokes up your spine, your jaw going slack as your mind goes blank. The pace is a delicious mix between rough and steady, big hands holding your hips down in a vice grip. Soft grunts leave him as he feels your cunt clench tightly around him, his brow pinching in pleasure and focus. A sharp gasp leaves you once he angles his hips again, able to hit your sweet spot over and over again. Warmth spreads over your lower stomach, down to your thighs, making you melt back into the mattress. After a few deep thrusts, your thighs tremble at his sides and he knows you are close.

»C‘mon, sweetie… doin‘ so good, jus‘ a little longer,« He breathes out between thrusts, angling one of your legs up to reach deeper. Despite wanting to hold out longer for him, you release and orgasm before him. Soft moans and whimpers fill his ears as he watches you come undone for him, watching your chest heave as he slowly eases out of you, hands rubbing along your sides.

Your mind is still reeling, spinning and unable to calm down even after he pulled out. You clench and squeeze around nothing, eyes trying to open and find him again. Meanwhile, Bruce watches the way the white cream slowly eases out, the sight enough to make him cum on the spot. He manages to reel himself back in and wait until you seem ready for more.

Your breath comes back and you feel reliefed, but a small spark forms in your abdomen once you see how he looks at you. Seated back on his knees, keeping a hand wrapped around his length to keep himself hard.

»Ready for more?« He shifts and keeps his eyes trained on you, waiting for your answer before continuing. But the only thing you can manage to do is nod, staying still on the bed.

»Use your words. I wanna be sure.« His small command makes your brain clear up, finally speaking up, albeit still hazy.

»I want more,« »Yeah, you want more, don‘t you? Want me.«

A new warmth spreads through your abdomen, able to feel your legs tingle in anticipation again. His hands guide you to roll onto your stomach, one arm snaking around your shoulders to keep you leaned up. Another shiver runs through your spine as you feel his hard length press against your backside, feeling the light slickness of it from earlier.

The side of your neck gets covered in soft kisses, travelling from your neck to your shoulder. A low grunt escapes him as he lines up and pushes in without further warning, not even waiting for you to get used to him before he starts moving in a slow pace. The stretch feels like it is ripping you apart by your seams, a burning pleasure creeping all over your body. It‘s difficult to keep in your sounds in when he is dragging himself in and out of you so slowly but deliciously, panting heavily under him.

Bruce feels you growing weaker under him and gives him a push, laying you back on the mattress and instead grabs a fist full of your hair to keep your head up. His pace quickens, getting harder and rougher like before. Due to the position, it feels like his cock is rearranging your insides without a care in the world, leaving you pinned underneath him.

There is nothing you can do but take, take, and take, unable to squirm away or even yell for his name. The wind keeps getting knocked from your lungs with every new thrust, small helpless whimpers leaving your lips.

»Jus‘ like that… takin‘ me so well,« His gravelly voice sounds from behind, tightening his grip on your hair before letting go and instead pushing his index finger into your mouth. »Suck.«

A light whine leaves you before taking his digit between your lips, starting to suck and have some sort of distraction from his careless pace. He feels the way your tongue swirls around his finger, his other hand keeping a strong grip on your hip. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, muffled moans coming from your side. Heavy pants leave the both of you, quickly making your head spin again as you suck harder on his finger.

You grow closer to the edge, gasping at the familiar but intense sensation. Bruce notices but won‘t let up, instead speeds up and forces himself harder into you. A small squeal leaves you and try to squirm, but his weight presses into you a little more, keeping you trapped under him.

It feels like your stomach gets ripped apart as you topple over the edge, eyes squeezing shut, body trembling under him as needy whimpers leave you.

»My girl, c‘mon— take it.« He pants out over you, locking his arm around your shoulders again to keep you from squirming away while he hammers into you. He is not nearly done with you, still needing to release.

Your breath catches before you grow quiet under him, jaw going slack as you start to feel overwhelmed. He never just kept going after one of you had orgasmed, and it seems like he finally got the idea of it. Mentally, you are praising him for just continuing, finally putting himself first and chasing his release.

His hips continue to snap into you with a relentless pace, soft pants brushing against your ear from behind. Light growls and grunts leave him while he keeps going, a light sweat forming over his brow.

»Take it, just a bit more— « You hear him barely grunt out, leaning back up and pushing a hand on your middle back to push you down into the mattress.

»‘s too much,« You try to warn him, feeling yourself edging closer to your limit, but it seems like he won‘t let up soon enough.

»I know, sweetheart, just— a bit more for me.« His hips pause briefly before he picks his pace up again, making you groan and shiver under him. You clench hard around him, unable to do anything but to lay there and take him, feeling like he is ripping and shredding you apart.

»Please, stop—«

He doesn‘t listen, instead keeps hold of your hips again and speeds his pace again. You groan, grabbing onto the sheets to try and have some support.

»Take it. I know you can.« Finally, his hips seem to stutter as he grows close to the edge, burrying his head to the crook of your neck. Only a few more thrusts and you feel his hot cum spurt into you, filling you up to the brim. His hips finally still and he groans out in satisfaction, trying to catch his breath. A low whine leaves form your side, legs trembling under him.

His head swims in the haze of the sweet pleasure, being still burried deep inside as he comes down from it. You are about to shift in silent request for him to lay off of you, but he already leans off your body and carefully eases out of you. Another bigger amount of cum oozes out of you, watching as your sensitive cunt clenches around nothing and slowly gets covered in the white mess. Once he finally snaps back and doesn‘t focus on the sight, his hand rubs gently along your spine.

»You okay? I‘ll clean you up in no time, hm?« His voice is way softer than before, genuine worry and gentleness shining through. You notice him getting off the bed and retreat into the bathroom for a moment, closing your eyes and trying not to doze off while waiting for him.

Soon enough, he is back by your side and gently makes you lay on your back again, laying a water bottle and a bottle of lotion you usually use, beside him. His hands gently start to clean up the sticky and hot mess between your legs with a damp towel, making sure to keep his touch as light as possible.

»Feel okay?« He checks in again, eyes going over your features as he lets go from you.

You give him a nod back, too tired to speak up, or let along move. Bruce understands, a faint smile gracing his lips as he goes away to get rid of the towel, before sitting back on the bed beside you. He takes the bottle of lotion and takes a little into his hands to rub it along your thighs and legs. Your muscles relax more, making you sigh softly and grow pliant. The gentle massage makes you feel like in you are heaven, getting to be treated so gently in contrast to the previous moments. A while goes by until you can finally lean back against the headboard, getting to drink a few sips of water until you feel yourself getting more tired. Bruce, ever the observant, notices your fatigue, but also feels his own eyes starting to grow heavier.

He shifts you around to spoon you from behind, tucking you both in as tightly into the blankets as possible before his nose nestles into the side of your neck. With a deep exhale, his own form relaxes into you.

Your heartbeat steadies, breaths becoming even and light as you fall into a restful sleep. He manages to stay awake and listen to your calm breaths, and steady heartbeat under his palm, until he also drifts off; falling into a deep sleep.

←MASTERLIST

taglist₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆. @143637-hrrm @dollyure @ibreathesmut @dreamzaremyrealityy @aceoffates

[nxtaliaistyping]

Thinking about Bruce Wayne fucking the disobedience out of you

18+ nsfw, fem reader, spanking, rough sex

Knowing that Bruce Wayne was Batman was a luxury that few people had, and he reminded you of it daily. How it’s a risk for you to know, it’s a risk for him to be dating you in the first place. So the one thing he asks of you, is to listen to him. All he wants is for you to be safe, and he knows what’s best for you.

So when you’re standing there in your stupidly attractive outfit, having followed Bruce…no, followed Batman, into the warehouse he’d thought a rising drug gang was utilizing, he was pissed beyond belief.

Jaw clenched, visible at the cut-off of his cowl, he grabs your arm and pulls you over to some nearby wooden crates, throwing you over them so your ass is practically hanging out the short skirt.

“I told you. I told you never to follow me. And you didn’t fucking listen.” He growls, the voice he usually saves for criminals he needs to scare a confession out of now being directed at you.

No matter how much you whimper that you’re sorry, clearly it’s falling on deaf ears as he pulls your skirt up and spanks you. Hard.

“Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson. A lesson to actually listen.”

He strikes again and again, hard ones too. Your ass feels bruised and aching, as your frame jolts with each spank. Clenching your thighs together offers you little relief, all that’s left is to cling to the crate for dear life and hope to god some criminal doesn’t wander in to see the bat spanking you like a naughty child.

The truth is, Bruce had found evidence that the gang had moved their base of operations, meaning this area was truly abandoned. But he figures you don’t need to know that, maybe the fear and anxiety at being seen will further drive home the lesson he’s attempting to teach.

Just when you’re about to cry out that you can’t take anymore, he rips your underwear off with sheer brute strength right before fiddling with the crotch of his suit. You don’t dare turn to try and see what he’s doing, fearing more punishment.

But the feeling of his cock tapping against your ass tells you what is about to happen, as you arch your back wantonly.

“This isn’t a reward, do you hear me?” He grunts out, before sliding into you quickly, setting a rough pace without giving you time to adjust. You grip the crate tighter, eyes rolling back at the harsh rhythm.

Little moans and whines are fucked out of you with each thrust. All of them are music to Bruce’s ears, despite his annoyance at your behaviour. Still he keeps railing you like he hates you, forcing his cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your stomach. The heat rushes to your core, clenching around him.

“I’m gonna cum in this pussy…gonna take you home leaking and wanting.” He states, speeding up to clearly chase his release. “If you’d have just been a good girl like I wanted, I’d have ate you out when I got back. I’d have made you gush around my tongue like I always do. But no. You had to pull a stunt like this.”

When he cums, he does so with an almost animalistic growl, marking you from the inside with his hot seed. You feel it fill you up, but you also feel the burning need that comes with not being able to orgasm. Whimpering as he pulls out, he picks you up bridal style before walking you to the batmobile and placing you in the passenger side. At least he didn’t place you in the back, restrained where the criminals usually go.

As he drives back, you feel his release seep out of your used cunt, surely staining the seats. But you don’t say anything, just trying to keep your thighs tightly pressed together. The whole time, it's silent, until he eventually cracks once he gets you home safe. Telling you how worried he was, how you're the best, purest thing in his life, how he needs to protect you no matter what.

And if he goes back on his word and makes you cum all over his thick callous fingers...well he just can't resist <3

[fear-is-truth]

Headcanon that sugar daddy Bruce Wayne after spending the night together and taking your virginity takes you on an extravagant shopping spree, also buys you an expensive gift, a gift for giving him the gift of your virginity.

warning ; mentions of sex. loss of virginity. mdni

BRUCE WAYNE has developed a taste for exclusivity. after all, he operates in a society where rarity is synonymous with value and wealth is measured in access rather than numbers. it’s for the same reason that he hadn’t hesitated when you let slip breathlessly, that no man had ever touched you before. bruce would never be so callow as to covet you for that alone, of course. but the prospect of guiding you through something so intimate and profoundly uncharted had awakened something in him all the same—an inevitability, perhaps. for all his restraint and discipline, bruce wayne is still a man.

the first breach had stung, a flash of medicinal discomfort that wasn’t totally unexpected. then came the languid, yet insistent burn, stretching your tight and untrained cunt around him. and finally, the undoing—a dizzying descent into pleasure. the morning after, you still wear the evidence of him. a dull (but not unpleasant) throb between your legs, a residual echo of the stretch and fullness he subjected you to last night.

and now, the spoils of your surrender unfold before you in the form of a private shopping spree—couture ateliers emptied for your pleasure, glass jewelry cases unlocked with a mere nod of his head. his credit card rests between his fingers like an afterthought, as you wander through rows of silk-lined mannequins and racks heavy with cashmere. bruce doesn’t bother with price tags, only watches you with silent amusement when you hesitate before a mirror, as if you haven’t grasped the concept of there is no budget. cute girl.

back at the manor, he lounges in an armchair, watching as lace and silk sculpt to your frame, as you turn beneath the glow of chandelier light, fabric slipping over your skin like water. but he’s impatient, when it comes to you. the clothes are exquisite, but he prefers you without them. soon enough, the luxury he’s wrapped you in lies discarded on the floor, and he’s between your legs again, spreading you open with hands still warm from fastening diamonds around your throat.

[totallynotashieldagent]

Hanahaki & The Bat Boys

Bruce Wayne:

When it happens for the first time, he makes himself believe that it's an attack by Poison Ivy. He ignores the symptoms and the reality of the situation. He tries every remedy under the sun except confession. And surgery? That's off the table too. He'd rather die than have the flowers removed. Because the removal would mean to forget you. To forget the love he has for you. The love his body has manifested for you.

But confessing is also not in the cards.

Confessing would mean to put you in danger. To ruin your peace with his unnecessary, unneeded love. You're just a friend. Right? That's how you see him anyway. At least, that's what he's told himself.

He truly believes you deserve better than a broken man like him. But the Hanahaki gets worse day after day after day- He's coughing up petals during patrol, during board meetings of WE, he's trying his best to hide it. To do anything but tell you.

He's constantly in pain and gets bedridden. His children are worried but he is a man who never shares so they don't know what to do.

It's months of suffering until Alfred has had enough and brings you to the Manor. Leaving you in his room with a stern sort it out, Master Bruce or else.

He denies. He coughs and denies, the petals cover his bed. You stay beside him, holding his hand. Begging him to just tell you who he loves so you can help him confess to whoever it is.

It takes a while but he simply snaps and yells between coughing fits that it's you! That it's always been you.

Dick Grayson:

It starts like a common cold. He's in bed for a day, and then fine again, but the tickle in the back of his throat doesn't leave. And during work, he coughs a bright red petal into his hand.

Every alarm bell goes off in his head and he knows the answer is simple. However, he can't bring himself to confess. How could he? You're beautiful, brilliant, carefree. You're the sun and he's the damaged circus boy turned vigilante. His issues have issues and how could he possibly subject you to them?

It gets worse as the weeks pass and he distances himself from you. The texts lessen, the hangouts almost dwindle to none.

He thinks about confessing. He almost tries it too. A few times. But every time he gets close enough for it, something happens to break the moment. So, he takes it as the universe's sign that it's just not meant to be.

Whilst Bruce begs him to confess, he doesn't. He opts for the surgery. It's the hardest decision he's ever had to make and he regrets it as soon as he wakes up in the hospital bed. You're there- of course you're there- But when you hug him, he feels nothing. His heart feels cold. Dead.

You're still the sun but he can't feel the warmth anymore.

Jason Todd:

It comes out of nowhere. There is no precursor and one morning, he simply wakes up coughing violently. Red, blue, pink petals everywhere. In his bed, on the floor, in the sink- There's no escaping them.

He knows it's you. Of course it's you. He's just surprised that it took this long for it to happen to him.

Confession is off the table. Surgery? Dick would never let him.

So he resorts to drinking, picking fights, getting reckless and going harder in fights, showing up places without all his armour. It's like he's taunting death to take him before the Hanahaki does. But it's just his luck that he universe is never on his side.

The Lazarus in his system keeps healing him. He is stuck in an endless cycle of pain. His throat is raw and the petals seem to trail behind him.

It gets worse and worse until the red isn't of the petals. No. it's his blood. If it had been anyone else, they would've died twice over. But it's Jason and death isn't his friend. So, he lays in bed, healing and coughing until you end up coming to check on him because Roy is busy one day.

His confession is accidental. He thought you were a dream when you cleaned him up and helped him into bed again. He whispers his love and assumes that you're just a trick of his mind. He realizes what he's done when he awakens, able to breathe once more after months.

Tim Drake:

He knows its coming before even the first petal arrives. He's so acutely aware of his symptoms and has been keeping track of everything for a while now, so, when the first flower is coughed out, he's simply fascinated by it.

He keeps every single flower he coughs up, documenting them, labeling the type, the date, the size. Everything.

Confessing or surgery doesn't even come to him. He's so focused on seeing what a human body is capable of. The flowers pile up next to the coffee and energy drinks. His utility belt has new spaces for the petals he coughs up during patrol.

It's not until when Dick points out to him that this will kill him that he stops obsessing over the disease and starts obsesseing over you again.

He writes and rewrites and then rewrites a script for his confession. He never gets a chance to do it himself because you come across the many discarded ways of saying I love you when you're looking something up on his laptop.

He doesn't even realize what has happened until he sees that he hasn't coughed a flower in a while.

Damian Wayne:

Panic. That's all that consumes him. Plain and utter panic. The petals are a sign of weakness and he curses himself for falling so low. He's the Dark Heir, the Son of Batman! He can't possibly be a victim of his disgusting sickness!

He demands for doctors from across the world. He goes back to the mountains to his grandfather to purge himself from it all. He trains until his feet bleed, he fights until his knuckles split open.

But confession? Never. He will never stoop so low. However, surgery? Also no. He'd rather carve out his lungs than forget the love his body has conjured up for you.

No matter how far he goes, how desperately he trains, how much he runs himself ragged, the petals don't stop. But at least the daily Lazarus Tea helps him control it enough to ignore it.

He refuses to answer your letters when he's in the mountains. He demands that they be burned upon arrival but then gets angry when his order is followed through because your words, no matter what, are- will always be important to him.

He wants so badly to come back and tell you everything. To fall to his knees, to bow to you and tell you that you're the reason for his suffering. But can't. He could never.

There are too many dangers for being the son of the Demon's Head. And while Bruce may take you with open arms, he knew that no one would ever be good enough for his mother.

He'd rather endure suffering until he dies than let his mother or grandfather hurt you because he fell for a normal girl, and they have already decided his destiny for him.

. . . . Drabble Masterlist.