Bruce Wayne x period!reader ‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊‧
synopsis: you have a painful period, but he comforts you
warnings: light intimacy, menstrual pain, medication, distress
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I curled in slightly at the sound of the door opening and closing. It was 7pm, the same time he came home from long parties he’d rather not be at.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred began, but Bruce sighed and took off his suit coat.
“Not now, Alfred… I’ve got a migraine.” He explained as he glanced at me on the sofa. He noticed something might have been wrong, but Alfred interrupted.
“I can assure you, you’ll be quite angry if I don’t tell you,” Alfred said.
Bruce took the silence as an answer to finally listen. He loosened his tie as Alfred explained, “She’s gotten her period.”
I sat up. “Alfred!” my cheeks bloom red.
Bruce glanced at me, not embarrassed like I was, but he smirked a little. “That explains the fight this morning.”
Yes, me and Bruce did fight about the sheets and the bed-making… about the washing and the time spent doing it. It wasn’t a big deal to him—he was just tired. But he apologized nonetheless… he always did.
Alfred spoke up. “I gave her every painkiller I could access and yet she’s still uncomfortable.”
Bruce sighed and shook his head. “I’ve got it, Alfred. Thank you.”
Alfred left me and him alone in the living room. Bruce grabbed the remote from the sofa near my feet and turned it off, sitting down next to me.
He could feel the heat and pain coming off me. He patted his lap. “Come here, sweetheart.”
I scooted slowly from my position and onto his lap. He gently guided me down without touching any sensitive spots. He kissed my lips shortly. “Why didn’t you say you’re having your period?”
“Because you were angry this morning,” I said.
He sighed and rubbed his eye with his hand, tired. “Baby, I’m not going to take it out on you if you tell me you’re having a period.” He seemed exaggerated but kind.
“You just have that grumpy look on your face.” I smiled a little, teasing.
He managed to smile, a tired one. He chuckled and shook his head, his hand resting on my hip gently as his thumb rubbed my hip bone. “Does that make me unapproachable? I thought you said it was hot.”
“It is… not when you’re mad at me.”
He shook his head. “That was a lie.” He kissed me on my lips, slow and intimate.
But he felt the tension in my body, the one I was almost perfect at hiding. He pulled back and kissed my forehead. “Cramps?” He already knew.
I nodded, even though I didn’t need to. He nodded and rubbed my lower stomach, gently putting his rough hand on my bare skin. The small swell of my lower abdomen hurt and he could tell.
“Sweetheart,” he said, not as a question but in a way that showed how concerned he was.
He rocked me gently. “Did Alfred make you a hot water bottle?”
I shook my head a little. Bruce smiled and shook his head. “Did you even ask?”
I saw he was angry… I shook my head to answer his question and I could see how annoyed he was.
“If you’re in pain, for heaven’s sake, ask for help!” He didn’t snap, but he expressed his testimony to my pain.
I curled into him. “I just didn’t want to be a bother.”
“You think you’ll be a bother… you’re bleeding out of your control and you’re worried about that?” He laughed and rubbed my back gently as I curled in. “You’re beautiful but… insane.”
Later that night, when he was trying to get me in bed, I had a problem. It wasn’t important—at least I didn’t think he thought so—but I made a bigger deal.
I was physically uncomfortable and he understood that much. “What’s wrong?” He noticed I wouldn’t get in bed, biting my nail.
“I want to change the sheets…” I said.
He watched me. Confused, yes. Batman was confused. “What’s wrong with these? They’re clean.”
“They’re just uncomfortable.” He heard the shaking in my voice.
He approached me, not wanting to overstep. “Sweetheart, what’s really wrong?”
I looked up at him for a second. “I’m just really uncomfortable… and in pain.”
He rubbed my lower back. “I can get Alfred to get you a heating pad?” he asked gently.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and started to cry. He didn’t ask any more questions—he kissed the top of my head and called for Alfred. It wasn’t long before the butler arrived, and Bruce asked for the exact thing I needed.
“Sheets still bothering you?” he asked finally.
I shook my head.
I was too much in pain to even care now. He chuckled a little and shook his head, taking off his shirt as he always did before bed. “I thought so,” he said affectionately.
Though he would have never let me be uncomfortable. Once Alfred arrived with a heating pad, he gave it to Bruce. “Does she need anything else?” Alfred asked.
“No, thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said as he walked back toward me in bed.
Alfred left.
Leaving me and Bruce alone again. Bruce turned off the lamp beside his bed and put the heat against my stomach. “Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled me against him gently.
“Ow…” I said quietly, but curled against him.
He shushed me gently and kissed my head again. “Wake me up if you need me.”
I was able to sleep through some of the night. The sound of the clock ticking helped me fall into a deep sleep. Bruce snoring every couple moments comforted me.
But I was woken up by a sharp cramp in my stomach. I shot up. “Aah!”.
I cried out at the pain and gasped.
Bruce shot up as well, alert. He didn’t waste time turning on the lamp, though the dim light shining through the manor windows was enough. “Damn it,” he said, but he wasn’t angry.
He was worried—worried about how much pain my period was causing me. “Hey… breathe.” He rubbed my leg.
I winced and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. “It woke me up.”
He nodded. “Alfred?!” he shouted for him.
The hall light shined underneath the door and footsteps were heard. The door opened slowly, Alfred in his robe.
“Yes, Master Bruce?”
Bruce, holding onto my arm gently as I clutched my stomach. “I need 500 mg of acetaminophen, please.”
Alfred nodded, understanding the situation, and wandered off down the hall. Bruce gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Is it worse?”
I shook my head. “But it still hurts.”
“I know, baby,” he said softly.
I leaned forward and held my stomach with my arms. Bruce pulled me closer to him. “Try to relax,” he whispered.
Alfred returned with a glass of water and two pills in his palm. Without hesitation, I took the pills and Bruce gently guided me to lay back against him. He put his large hand against my stomach and sighed, thanking Alfred silently.
He rocked me gently, and as I began to close my eyes, he smiled—more relieved the pain wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t rest. And I fell into that deep sleep again.
In the morning he made sure I woke up with a warm bath started. He had already showered, smelling fresh—that woodsy smell he knew I loved—as he walked toward the bed as I stirred and stretched.
He smiled down at me, his grey-streaked hair damp and over his forehead. “I have a bath ready for you,” he said quietly.
I smiled tiredly and sat up slowly. “I’m sorry about keeping you awake.”
He helped me out of bed slowly. “I was awake.” He lied. He kissed the top of my head, my messy hair.
He helped me into the bathroom. A knock at the doorframe made Bruce turn his head. It was Alfred. “Breakfast?” Alfred said.
Bruce smiled slightly. “Yes. She’s having a bath first.”
Alfred nodded before leaving. Bruce helped me out of my shirt and my shorts. He was gentle taking off the rest of my clothes, kissing my shoulder as he lowered me into the warm water. He soaked my hair gently and kissed my cheek. “How’s the pain?”
“Better than last night.” He could tell it was still bothering me. Maybe I felt like a bother or maybe I felt too tired to tell the truth.
He eyed me and gave a half smile. He helped me wash up and dry off, getting me into clean clothes before putting on a shirt himself. But he didn’t miss the quick glance I gave him. He smirked and kissed my head again. “Keep your pretty little mind to yourself,” he teased.
I smiled a little and touched his hand before he put product in his hair. It was a slow day today… and he was okay with that. He led me downstairs, my steps slow—maybe I was tired or maybe I had lied to him.
He sat me down on the sofa and rubbed my hair before standing and walking toward Alfred in the kitchen. “Make her something warm,” he said simply. Alfred nodded.
He grabbed the Midol from the counter and gave me two pills. Gently he kissed my lips before I took them, thanking him. He took care of me until my period ended… not just when it got better, but when it ended completely. Batman took care of his girl.
