#batman x fem!reader

[v333ngeance]

18+ MDNI

having sex with bruce wayne for the first time was the most mind-blowing experience you’ve ever had in your life 

and one of the main reasons was because of how experienced this man was— which to you, was not a shocker 

he knew what to do— how to kiss to swallow your sounds, where to touch to feel your body arch on his, what to say to get you going. especially the last part 

“spread your legs more. uh huh, just like that”

“arch that back for me, thaaaat’s my girl. always listenin’ to me”

“takin’ me so well, sweetheart. like you were made for it”

his praises, his voice, his touch— everything about him just made you moan his name louder and crave more of him. 

bruce gave you another deep thrust of his cock, a groan escaping his lips while a whimper left yours. his cock was huge, so much so that every inch and vein was felt and memorized by your pussy, slightly fluttering around to accommodate his length in you 

and once you did, his hips would pick up the pace. that slow drag of his cock that he was giving you before was now replaced by a brutal speed that had small “mph!mph!mph!” sounds leave your lips with each loud thrust 

and when i say loud, im talking about how lewd they were— sharp skin slaps leaving his thrusts that sound downright pornographic

another groan would escape bruce’s lips, his hands gripping more tightly onto your hips and his mind practically dizzy from how warm and tight you were around him. 

“fuck, you feel amazing” he panted. “so” thrust. “fucking.” thrust. “amazing” thrust. 

his lips immediately capture yours in a heated, open- mouthed kiss that had both of you swallowing sounds from each other. you moaned when he bit your bottom lip, clenching tight around his cock for only a second— a second that made his cock twitch and a sharp inhale escape his lips 

there, his pace got more erratic. messy. unpredictable. the kind that showed how bruce thomas wayne, the most powerful man in all of gotham, was now pussy whipped from you. and the filthy whispers he was murmuring on your lips were the kind that showed just how close to the edge he was

“my pretty fucking girl, squeezin’ me like she doesn’t wanna let go— fuuuck. wanna feel her clench all over me when she cums, yeah? you think— shit— you think you can do that for me?”

and how could you refuse? not when he was asking so nicely

one more thrust and your orgasm washed all over him, the buzz so intense you felt your body sink more into the bed. your lips kept murmuring bruce’s name in a chant from how dazed you were 

and of course, bruce pulls out just in time for his own orgasm. spilling all over your lower stomach with thick, white loads of cum and breaking the kiss to let out groans of your name in the crook of your neck

when the aftershocks finally faded off, he’d pick his head up and meet his gaze with yours, pants leaving both his and your lips 

slowly, bruce placed a gentle kiss on your lips. slow enough for you to still catch your breath, slow enough for you to kiss him back in the same manner and slow enough for you to hear his murmurs of “are you okay?” and “do you need anything?” before he’d start on his phenomenal aftercare 

best. night. ever 

not proofread in the slightest (i wrote this at 4 am…) also we gonna lock in for kinktober so no more smut until i start 💔

©𝐕𝟑𝟑𝟑𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, all rights reserved

[patientofarkhamasylum]

bruce wayne x wife!reader ⸝⸝⸝ bruce is really, really in love w you <3 fluff, suggestive-ish (wc: 531)

bruce wayne has known you for a long time now. he’s memorized you in every light, every season, every quiet little state of being. still, sometimes, you hit him like something brand new.

one morning, you’re sitting at the kitchen island in one of his shirts, half awake, eating strawberries straight from the carton. bruce stops in the doorway.

you glance up eventually. “what?”

“nothing,” he says.

“you’ve been standing there forever.”

he walks over, bends down, and kisses your temple like that explains anything.

you watch him suspiciously as he pulls away to pour his coffee. “you’re being weird.”

“you’re very beautiful.”

the way he says it is so solemn that you nearly laugh. “you’re just now figuring that out?”

“no.” he looks at you again, softer this time. “but knowing and getting used to it are apparently two very different things.”

you have to look away before he catches your shy smile. which is ridiculous, really. you’re capable of facing gotham’s worst and keeping its best-kept secret, but one painfully sincere compliment from your husband is enough to crack your composure.

♡⸝⸝

at galas, he’s somehow worse.

he’s already seen you get ready. he was the one who zipped up the dress while you fastened your earrings in the mirror. yet halfway through the evening, without fail, he looks up from an important conversation and finds you across the room.

you’re laughing at something he can’t hear, and his attention drifts further from the person in front of him with every second he watches. then your eyes meet his, and he doesn’t stand a chance.

his expression betrays him just enough for you to catch the exact moment he loses the thread of what he’s saying. you give him a second to recover, but he never quite does. taking pity on him, you cross the floor to put him out of his misery.

when you reach him, you adjust his tie. “close your mouth, handsome.”

“it’s not—”

“it was a little,” you correct, entirely too pleased with yourself.

he lets it go, too distracted by your perfume and how close you’re standing to remember whatever excuse he was about to give anyway.

♡⸝⸝

but it’s in bed, with all of his attention fixed on you, that you undo him completely.

you’re tangled together, everything warm and unhurried, when bruce stops mid-breath, his hands going still against your skin.

you open your eyes. “what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, his thumb finds your jaw, tracing it slowly, and the question dies between you. your heart does something stupid because he’s forgotten to be careful with his face. he’s looking at you like he still can’t believe the world made someone like you and then, for reasons he may never understand, let him keep you.

his thumb lingers at the curve of your face before he leans down and presses his mouth to the place where your neck meets your shoulder. you breathe his name into the dark and pull him closer.

afterward, he stays there, his forehead resting against yours while you both catch your breath. when his eyes open again, he’s still looking at you with that same wonder.

navi | m.list | © 2026 patientofarkhamasylum. all rights reserved.

[llovelygood]

Bruce Wayne loves to call you his wife.

“My wife”. His wife. You. His.

Those two words just taste too sweet in his mouth and roll perfectly on his tongue. 

He uses that term on those cozy mornings, when his body still aches, the sunlight is barely welcomed into the room, and your naked bodies are touching. The word “wife” comes out of his mouth like a sigh, like a secret poorly kept, right above your lips. Because it is not a secret that Bruce is devoted to you entirely; everyone knows, but there are people who simply choose to ignore it.

That’s Bruce’s favorite moment to call you his—whenever someone seems to not understand the term “his wife”.

It usually happens in galas. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, forever the best dressed, will always talk to everyone in the room. Bruce will be the one greeting new people while you will be starting simple conversations with the ones you had already met in previous galas.

Most people know their place—Mrs. Wayne is clearly off the market—but there is always at least one man who tries to shoot his shot. And Bruce Wayne always notices.

He notices when the man steps closer and invades your personal space. Not close enough for you to feel his breath, but at an uncomfortable distance that is considered inappropriate. 

You’re never a damsel in distress; you know how to deal with people and you’re quick to remind them of their place. But, for your husband, this is the best part of the night, so you let him mark his territory.

He walks towards you and the man, positioning himself to your left, and his right hand lands in your lower back. Bruce’s smile is somehow arrogant, full of pride and satisfaction. And it is in that moment when he finally gets to say his favourite words.

“I’ve seen you’ve finally met my wife.”

Bruce’s voice is polite and professional, but the word “wife” in particular is territorial, and your husband uses it like a trophy. 

Yes, he is the lucky one to have you and be married to you. And you could fall to your knees right in that moment, but you stay there, with a satisfied smile, enjoying your husband's touch and watching how the man apologizes and moves on to another person. 

You love being Bruce Wayne’s wife and he loves it even more.

A/N: Tomorrow I have my very last exam and I need to pass, so wish me luck. Follow for more :3

Bruce Wayne taglist: @princesstrunkz @currentblasphemy @planetevermore @astraeasworld @andraax2 @dlthl

[1nsignia]

requested 18+ mdni, bruce wayne

—————————————————————————

yesterday, you and bruce had an argument. nothing major, just a slight one. and today he was apologizing to you— in his own way

“bruce! slow— fuuuuck, slow down!”

you’ll be damned if he slowed down. your mind was dizzy from bruce’s mouth practically leeched on your cunt, his tongue lapping your clit at a pace that made breathless gasps of his name leave your gaped lips, almost seeing stars in your vision. 

his large arms were hooked under your legs and pulled you closer, making sure you didn’t move an inch and that your legs were still spread while he got to work

“im so sorry for the other day” bruce murmured, his tongue not stopping for a second and way too focused on how good you tasted. “wasn’t in my right mind, mm”

he moaned a low sound of pleasure from how good you tasted, burying his face in between your legs more and applying more pressure with both his tongue and the tip of his nose. that sent a buzz through your body, a moan immediately leaving your lips before you could control yourself

bruce’s blabbers didn’t stop and in fact, only grew with each second of suffocating his face in your pussy, apologizing while talking about how good you tasted at the same time. 

and all your efforts of trying to at least be stubborn all went down the drain the moment your orgasm washed into his mouth, so intense it had you arching your back more to his mouth.

even as you soaked his chin and mouth, bruce didn't stop for a second and licked every drop of your mess with a victory smirk hiding between your legs

damn you, bruce wayne

—————————————————————————

and now back to your daily programmmm (ill admit my brain blanked when i was writing this)

main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @starl1ghtgr4yson @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae

@darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore @chickenchickenpie @fanofthebatfam @sillygayfreak @tskdeion @potatoheartsyou @faepoetry @theall-seeingone @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @goobfeels @jtoddsbaby @lovee-potions @milforyou @aaliyahhh-12 (tags are open)

©1nsignia— please do not steal, repost or reuse my work

[megafangirlcentral]

Bruce Wayne, Father of Seven

If you had told Bruce Wayne five years ago that he’d officially be married to the woman of his dreams, he would say there’s no way.

If you were to tell him that not only was he married but he also finally got to experience the baby stage of having children, he’d tell you to get out and stop trying to mess with him. Yet here he is, finally experiencing the stage of a child’s life he never got to with his other children.

Who knew that the best way for Bruce Wayne to settle down was to be nap trapped by a twelve pound three month old. It hasn’t been easy for anyone in the family, it was the biggest adjustment the both of you had to face. Having six children and bypassing the baby stage made it even harder. By the time each child came into your lives, they could already talk, walk, and basically survive without the both of you constantly hovering over them.

However the minute little Martha was conceived, the life you knew was over.

“Bruce I’m telling you, that’s a second a line.”

“It could be a faulty test, an evaporation line.”

“For the world’s greatest detective, your deduction skills need to be brushed up on. You watched me pee on four other tests. All of which confirmed that there’s a fetus,” you sighed and set the last of the pregnancy test on the sink counter before turning to him.

“What’re we going to do? We have no idea how to take care of a baby”

“We will figure it out. We always do.” He replied and pulled you in for a hug.

“A baby.” You say again still in disbelief.

“Our baby,” he confirms and rubs your back.

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that this baby is going to be loved and that they’ll have to learn to survive in a house with six older siblings,” he replied softly with a teasing tone. You laughed and hugged him a bit tighter.

Since then the two of you did figure it out. Well… as much as you could. Bruce panicked a bit when you heard the heartbeat for the first time. Instead of talking it out like he knows he should’ve, he used Batman.

“Are you and Bruce fighting?” Dick asked one day as he came to Wayne Enterprises to have lunch with you.

“What? No, why would you say that?” You replied as you shuffled papers around at your desk so he could set the food he brought down.

“He’s been more stressed than usual. Swearing that our patrols haven’t been enough. That we’re not getting enough done.” Dick replies as he flopped in the chair across from you.

You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh. “We’re not fighting but he is stressed. I’ll talk to him about it”

You and Bruce did talk about it later that day. It was honestly more like you chewing him out.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, you’re pushing the kids too hard.”

“I’m trying to make everything go smoothly so when you’ll need me further in the pregnancy I can be there”

“Gotham’s always going to need you Bruce but it can survive without Batman. It’s not like there’s not at-least six other vigilantes that can keep watch in your place.” You say a bit teasingly.

He grumbles, a sign he’s not impressed.

“We should tell the kids. I’d rather they hear it from us than figure it out on their own”

“You’re barely nine weeks along, we should wait.”

“I’m two months along, and luckily the first trimester has been good to me. I want to tell the kids.”

“Okay”

Cue trying to gather all your children before patrol and trying to make sure everyone is in Gotham for the announcement. This was a much harder task than you thought it’d be but you succeeded.

In front of you and Bruce, all dressed in their uniforms stood Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian.

“Right, so before everyone gets going for patrol. I want to tell you all something important.”

“Are you dying?” The question came from Jason followed by a “Are you sick?” From Tim.

“No and No. I’m pregnant.” You say, figuring the best way to get it over with was just to say it outright.

It was quiet for a bit then the yelling came,

“Pregnant?! You guys are having a baby?” Jason reacted first

“I knew Bruce was acting weird when I went to see you last week!” Dick yelled over Jason.

“Congratulations mom! How far along are you?” Cass, comes up to hug you and then Bruce.

“Congrats you two,” Duke came up next and gave you both a half hug.

“Does this mean we all have to help orrr?” Tim asked next.

After the initial shock went down, the boys gave their congratulations, all except Damian who just stood there silent.

“Dami? You alright?” You asked softly approaching him.

“I’m fine mother, congratulations to you and father,” he says a little harsh before turning away.

It took a lot of encouragement and reassurance for Damian to finally come around to the idea of being a big brother.

The rest of your pregnancy was relatively easy going if you consider always having a bodyguard in the forms of your husband, sons, and daughter, easy going. Everyone hovered but it was out of love.

When you finally went into labor, everyone lost their minds. Bruce, for once lost his cool.

“We need to get you to the hospital. Your water broke.”

“Bruce my contractions aren’t even consistent right now. We have time.” You argued.

That argument didn’t last long as baby Wayne was just as impatient as their father.

Less than three hours later in a private suite at Gotham General, your sweet baby girl Martha Alice Wayne was born. Bruce cried when he heard her cry. He cried again when he cut the umbilical cord and held her for the first time.

“She’s perfect” he whispered as he held her to his chest.

“She is. Bruce Wayne officially a father to two girls now. How’s it feel?”

“Unreal, I don’t have any idea what I’m doing but having her in my arms just feels right”

Since that day in the hospital when Martha was born, Bruce felt like a whole new person. Which is how now, even after the more lack of sleep than usual, the millions of dirty diapers, the tantrums, and spit up, Bruce does his best to enjoy every second of it.

Even if that means being nap trapped and screamed at by a three month old.

A.N: I literally couldn’t get this out of my head since I went on a Batman rereading spree. DC give him a tiny baby now. I can definitely see myself making more fics on this in particular, especially with Bruce and processing his feelings and Damian’s reaction. Hope you guys liked it! Love ya

[bat1nsignia]

drabble #17! 18+ mdni, bruce wayne

—————————————————————————

normally, if someone ever came back from an event or gala as prestigious as the ones you and bruce often go to, they would be knocked the fuck out and drained from all the social interactions and boredom

dont’t get me wrong, both you and bruce do get tired from them. but tonight said otherwise. 

because here you were, lying on your stomach and arching your back, your dress rolled up to your waist so bruce could feel the warmth and flesh of your ass pressing on his hips. the rhythmic, deep pace of his cock stuffing your pussy did nothing but make you whine and claw your manicured nails on the leather seats of the limo, feeling the cold metal of his belt meet with your ass and your necklace bounce on your chest

“take it baby, take all of me”

“gonna leave this limo all filled up with my cum, yeah? you want that? you’re gonna have to speak louder, dear” “keep that ass up for me, sweetheart”

was bruce fucking you in the back of the limo with the partition rolled up? yes. were you two loud? also yes. and did the driver hear anything? with the headphones that were blasting music in his ears, he didn’t even know that the richest and most powerful couple in all of gotham were getting the seats dirty

“gorgeous” he groaned, giving you another deep thrust and feeling his grip on your waist tighten. “absolutely gorgeous”  bruce’s tie was thrown somewhere in the limo, the first few buttons of his collar were undone and the sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, his armani belt unbuckled and hanging from the belt loops of his pants

“couldn’t focus at that damn gala with you lookin’ like that” you felt bruce’s large hands slither under your dress to squeeze your boobs and pinch your nipples, making your body immediately jerk and his name leaving your stuffed mouth with a moan

“all i could think about was bending you over. your dress —hah— ripped in shreds, your body under my touch and squeezin’ my cock dry with that pretty cunt, just like now” 

your sounds were muffled from the panties stuffed in your lipstick-smudged mouth thanks to bruce, spreading your legs more and arching your back to take more of his length— as if its entirety wasn’t already buried in you bruce leaned forward to bury his lipstick-covered face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume that had been clouding his senses all night as his chest was pressed to your back, groaning on your skin. “my gorgeous wife—” thrust. “my wife—” thrust. “mine” thrust.

his tip pressed on a spot that felt so good it made your pussy flutter— almost clenching more than it already was— over his cock, a choked groan of your name leaving his lips and his pace now speeding up and getting irratic to chase the high that was approaching both you and him

the gala may have ended, but the fun was about to start

—————————————————————————

masterlist!

(a/n: if asia asks, asia gets <3 little long for a drabble but we ball. im so shocked as to how i never wrote this for bruce.... good thing thats changed)

main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @st4rl1ghtgrays0n @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae @darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore (tags are open)

©bat1nsignia— please do not steal, repost or reuse my work.

[pluvoia]

if there’s one thing you’ve learned from being BRUCE WAYNE’S girlfriend— it’s that older men do it right.

bruce worships you like you’re his religion. lips dancing across your skin with the reverence of a thousand suns, bruce’s affections are never of grandiose stature (because if bruce’s specialty is anything when it comes to things he truly cares about, it’s subtlety); but his love is never to be doubted.

he makes a point to wake you up every morning with his lips pressed to yours; goes out of his way to help you dress for a gala, and never turns down the opportunity to just talk— because loving you, for all its glory, should best be demonstrated through mundanity.

his hands find your waist easily in public events; clinging, holding, consoling.

sturdy fingers thread through your hair or down your spine, tracing veins and beauty marks like a painfully tender game of connect the dots.

and god— the way he makes love to you? it’s as if the stars have aligned and everything has allowed for your souls to intertwine so tightly, bruce would have to traverse the seven seas should he find someone that could even begin to rival the love he feels for you. every thrust, every gasp, every furrow of his brows as he drives in and out and in again of you— done with purpose, done with such devotion, it almost scares him. because bruce has never loved someone this tenderly before— his entire world has shifted on its head because of you—! and that is something so impossibly foreign to gotham’s most important, it is horrifying.

but bruce welcomes the scare, so long as he gets to hold you in his arms as his cock plunges further into your soaked cunt; so long as he gets to spill into you, burying himself and his cum into your womb; so long as you’re rendered speechless by time he’s finished with you, peppering kisses along your hairline and jaw as if to seal the deal.

bruce wayne has taught you that, while older men do it right— only one older man will complete you; through his mind, body, and soul.

© PLUVOiA - masterlist.

[trowneyy]

𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐍

• bruce wayne

{summary} He thinks he’s slipping. You think he’s hotter. Obviously, you’re right.

{content} bruce wayne x reader, established relationship, fluff, soft intimacy, domestic moment, body image insecurity

You weren’t even supposed to be in the bedroom yet.

You were looking for your phone.

Instead, you stop dead in the doorway.

Bruce is standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, hair still slightly damp like he just got out of the shower. One hand is braced on the dresser, the other… hovering over his stomach, pressing lightly, then pulling away like he doesn’t like what he feels.

His expression?

Critical. Focused. Annoyed.

“…Great,” he mutters.

You raise a brow, leaning against the frame. “Wow. Who pissed you off this time?”

He doesn’t turn around immediately.

“…Me,” he says flatly.

That gets your attention.

You step inside, slower now. “That sounds dramatic. Should I be concerned?”

Now he glances at you through the mirror.

“Probably not,” he says. “Unless you’ve developed strong opinions about poor discipline.”

You snort. “Oh, I have plenty of those. Just not about you.”

He gestures vaguely at himself, like the answer should be obvious.

“This,” he says.

You look.

And look a little longer than necessary, just to make a point.

“…Yeah,” you say.

His jaw tightens. “Yeah.”

You hum, walking closer, circling slightly so you’re not just another reflection behind him.

“Yeah,” you repeat, “you look good.”

He exhales sharply through his nose. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that thing where you pretend—”

You reach out and poke his side.

He stops mid-sentence.

“First of all,” you say, completely ignoring his complaint, “rude. Second—what ‘thing’?”

“That,” he gestures again, more annoyed now, “where you act like there’s no difference.”

You tilt your head, considering him.

“There is a difference.”

He nods once, like finally, finally—

“Yeah,” you continue, “you’re hotter.”

Silence.

He turns his head, actually looking at you now.

“…You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You step right into his space now, no hesitation, your hand sliding lightly across his stomach—not critical, not analyzing, just there.

His breath catches, subtle but there.

“You feel nice,” you say casually.

“…Nice,” he repeats, like the word personally offended him.

“Mhm.” You nod. “Very. Ten out of ten. Would absolutely ignore responsibilities to touch again.”

He lets out a quiet, disbelieving huff. “That’s not helping.”

“It is,” you argue. “You just don’t like the method.”

He shakes his head, stepping back half a pace—until his back nearly hits the dresser.

“I’ve lost definition,” he says. “I’m slower. I should’ve noticed sooner.”

There it is.

You soften—but only a little.

Instead of arguing, you step closer again, closing that half-step distance like it never existed.

“Bruce.”

He doesn’t answer.

Your hand slides up his chest, steady, grounding.

“You know what I see?”

He gives you a look. “Apparently something fictional.”

You roll your eyes and—without warning—lean in and press a kiss to his collarbone.

He freezes.

Another one, just above it.

“I see someone who hasn’t slept properly in weeks,” you murmur.

A kiss to his shoulder.

“Someone who’s been carrying half the city on his back.”

Your fingers curl lightly against his side.

“And someone who still looks—unfairly—good doing it.”

He exhales, slower this time.

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

“You’re allowed to change,” you say. “You’re not a statue.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

He hesitates.

And that hesitation says everything.

You sigh softly, but there’s no frustration in it—just understanding.

“C’mere.”

You don’t wait for permission. You take his hand and guide it—gently—back to his own stomach where he was just criticizing himself.

He tenses at first.

“Feel that?” you ask.

“I know what it feels like.”

“Yeah,” you say, your hand covering his, pressing it there just a little more firmly, “but you’re feeling it like it’s a problem.”

You shift closer, your other arm sliding around his waist.

“I’m feeling it like it’s you.”

He goes quiet.

Your thumb brushes lightly over his knuckles.

“And I like you,” you add, softer now.

He watches you for a second—really watches you this time, like he’s trying to decide if he believes you.

“…You’re biased,” he says.

You grin. “Hopelessly.”

That finally cracks something.

A small smile. Barely there, but real.

You take advantage of it immediately, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips—light, teasing.

“Also,” you add, not moving far, “for the record?”

He hums faintly.

“You’re hot.”

He shakes his head, but there’s no heat in it anymore.

“…You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” you say, backing him lightly against the dresser now, hands still on him, “you’re smiling.”

He pauses.

Realizes.

And—yeah.

He is.

You soften again, just a little, your forehead brushing his.

“Stop picking fights with yourself,” you murmur. “You’re on my team.”

His hand comes up then, settling at your waist, grounding himself there.

“…Stay?” he asks quietly.

You huff a small laugh. “Wasn’t planning on leaving.”

And this time, when he glances toward the mirror—

He doesn’t look annoyed.

He just looks… less harsh.

Which, for Bruce, is basically progress.