Telling Bruce Wayne he’s going to be a grandfather? Surprisingly easy.
Telling the rest of the family they're about to become uncles and aunts?
A completely different challenge.
Dick Grayson and Kory Anders take a quiet moment to share their news with the people they love most—that they’re going to be parents for the first time. For once, the Wayne family has a moment of peace, of joy, of something like normal.
And in the quiet aftermath, Koriand’r has a heart-to-heart with Bruce Wayne—about the past, the future, and what it means if the Dark Knight truly wants to be part of his granddaughter’s life.
Part Three of Beloved, Our Little Star.
Dick Grayson hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time. Telling Bruce had been one thing, but telling everyone else? That was different. Even though the family had been patching things up over the years, there were still cracks. Not the deep, gaping kind from before, when no one spoke and everyone walked on eggshells, but the quieter, persistent kind. Still, they talked now. Maybe not perfectly. Maybe not like a family that belongs on the cover of a magazine. But they talked. And maybe that’s why this felt so big—because for once, he wasn’t going to carry it alone.
This time, he wasn’t just revealing a new mission or another trauma tucked in the folds of his history. He was going to tell them something different.
He was going to be a father.
With Kory.
The same woman he once almost married over fourteen years ago. The woman he once pictured as a young family with. Maybe they were doing it now—just... under different circumstances. They weren’t dating. Not officially. They weren’t a couple, or engaged, or anything that came with labels. They were... together, just not defined. Lovers. Friends. Something in between.
All Dick knew was that every time she looked at him, he came back to her bed, and she let him stay.
And maybe that was enough now. Maybe at thirty-four, he didn’t need the old narrative—marriage, white picket fences, a life modeled after the parents he lost. Maybe now, he was happy just knowing that when he knocked, Kory opened the door.
He watched her now, radiant as ever. Loose pants, an oversized T-shirt, and wild auburn hair falling past her shoulders. She looked beautiful—she always did—but lately, it was something else. Her beauty seemed to grow, shift with time, soft and glowing. Maybe it was the way her stomach had begun to curve ever so slightly. Just yesterday, she'd sent him a profile picture, asking if she looked “bloated.” He hadn’t said a word. Just smiled. And when he got to her apartment, they’d both ended up quietly, giddily overwhelmed.
Still, Dick could tell Kory was nervous. It wasn’t always in the words—it was in the way she moved, in the little winces she tried to hide. Tamaranean biology didn’t work like Earth’s, but with a half-human child growing inside her, everything was... unpredictable. Watching her throw up that morning had unsettled him. Maybe it was the lack of sunlight. Maybe it was the human DNA.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Bruce Wayne is a good dad, he absolutely refuses to endanger his children in his mission. He’s got a strict 18 years or older rule applies to all of his babies. Super cute fic
Bruce stared blankly at the screen at the front of the room. This meeting had gone on forever and he felt like his brain had started to liquefy. Steve and Tony were taking turns droning on and he was ready to strangle Clint if the archer didn’t stop asking inane questions.
He caught Natasha’s eye and the spy rolled her eyes dramatically before turning to flip a rubber band at Clint. Bruce knew that it wasn’t just the staff meeting. He missed you. He’d gotten used to being around you all the time but, now that you were drowning in work, it felt like ages since he’d done more than text you.
It worried him, if he was honest. It didn’t take him long to learn that you dealt with all your trauma by not dealing with it. You buried it all in distractions and ignored all the warning lights. That was your superpower. Compartmentalizing at the speed of sound.
When his phone buzzed quietly, he tapped the screen and smirked to himself. You’d sent him a picture. A screenshot of a tweet, apparently
“Christ,” he murmured, chuckling to himself. “Bruce, look at Nudes on your own time,” Tony said, sipping coffee. “It’s not, it’s a tweet,” Bruce protested. “Speaking of nudes,” Natasha says, pouncing on the opportunity to derail the meeting, “When are we gonna meet this girl, Banner?”
“Tony has met her,” Bruce reminded. “Yeah,” Clint said, “But I wanna meet her. I wanna know what she’d diagnose me with.” Bruce sighed, “If it’ll get this meeting over with I’ll text her and see if she can come out tonight for a minute but... It’s getting up on the end of term.” Tony winced, “Yeah, I don’t miss those days.” Bruce sighed, “Yeah. She’s worn the fuck out by the time she gets home.”
He pulls out his phone anyway and pulls up his text conversation with you.
Hey, baby?
It takes a few minutes but you text him back.
Hey handsome! You okay?
Fine, sweetheart. Everythings fine. Do you have time to go out tonight? Everyone really wants to meet you.
Bruce is dimly aware of the meeting flowing around him. He can see you smiling a little and his heart warms.
Just as long as no one minds if I’m scruffy looking. And on call.
Bruce smiles. He doesn’t care if you're “scruffy” or on call. As long as he can see you on more than a video chat.
No one is going to mind, Y/N. We’ve all seen bad days.
Then I’ll be there. I miss you.
I miss you too, baby.
Gotta go. Class.
___________
When you walked into the bar, you looked like you’d had a day. Your jeans were torn and your hoodie was old. Clearly at some point during the day, you’d had a change of clothes. Usually your work clothes were neat. Professional. As a general rule, you avoided looking scruffy at all when you went out in public if you could. Still though. You were cute.
You leaned on the bar, hefting your backpack up on your shoulder a little more firmly and ordering a drink and he made his way to your side unobtrusively, “Come here often?” he said, voice warm. You turned, irritated for just a second until you realized it was Bruce. He caught you, chuckling as your lips crashed into his and your arms twined around his neck. When you pulled away he smiled softly, “Long day?” he asked. You nod, “Two changes of clothes later and one client trying to walk all the way the fuck to Jersey, I’m free.” He cuddles you gently and kisses you again, telling the bartender to put your drink on his tab. “Bruce,” you scold gently. He just smiles, “What? I can afford it. It’s just a couple drinks.” You give him a look and he kisses your forehead. He knows you don’t like it when he pays for things for you. He likes that you don’t ask him for things. But he adores doing things for you. “Thank you,” you say, kissing his jaw. He pulls your hair out and takes your backpack to set it at your feet. It’s heavy and he almost drops it. “Sorry,” you tell him, “I usually pack up in the morning and don’t get home until 9 or after.” Bruce just kisses your head and starts the introductions.
Nat watches you curiously for a moment. Steve asks a ton of questions and Tony, being Tony, grills you for information about things like whether or not Bruce snores. When your work phone rings you sigh, “Hold that thought. The Panicky rookies beckon,” you tell them. You pick up the phone and attach headphones so you can listen and also look things up, “Y/N,” you say.
Bruce can tell just from the look on your face that this is probably something you’ve answered before. “Of course she has pain. She has COPD and smokes a pack and a half of cigarettes a day,” you say. “No. DO NOT. Absofuckinglutely not. Do not give her the money to buy more.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Look. We go through this several times a week. Her blood pressure is better than mine. She’s just mad that the doctor she saw at the urgent care told her to stop smoking. Tell her that if she can walk to the ER she does not need to be there. Also remind her that her blood pressure is GOING to be high if she makes you take it when she comes in from chain-smoking... Okay. Yes. That’s fine. She can take her anxiety PRN in the next hour. Encourage her to do that and lay down. Yup. Okay. Make sure you put all this in the shift report for Dr. Meyers. Bye.”
You hang up the phone and your cheeks color, “Sorry, I’m our on-call until 4am.” Clint snorted, “So basically you’re babysitting over the phone?” You nod, “That’s a pretty accurate assessment,” you tell them. Steve smiles a little, “How long have you been doing jobs like this?” he asked. You shrug, “Since I was 21 so... about 6 years now. My first job was as a tech in a dementia ward.” Bruce smiles a little, “So a lack of orientation to reality is your specialty?” You shrug, “I’m just familiar with it... You just gotta go with it. If a dementia patient tells you the sky is green, you tell them it’s a lovely shade, isn’t it? If they ask to talk to their mom whose been dead 50 years, you distract them. If you can’t, put them on the phone with a nurse who has the best mom voice.” Natasha smiles a little as she watches you take a sip of your drink. “Why’d you stop working in the dementia ward?” Tony asked.
“Because my dumb ass thought that working with kids would be less heartbreaking... So I did that for a while,” you say. Clint winces, “Yeah... Kids suck.” You laugh, “No joke. I still have a scar on my ribs from getting stabbed with a hunk of metal door.” Steve choked and Tony thumped him on the back, “Seriously?” he sputtered. You nod. “Is it a full moon?” you ask Bruce idly, snuggling into his side. “Yes,” Natasha answered.
“Fuck me running,” you groan and sigh. “Why?” Bruce asked. “It’s a pretty good metric for how many calls I’m gonna get,” you answer. Tony scoffed, “That’s an old wives tale.”
“I’m gonna get a minimum of 4 calls and 3 text messages,” you shoot back, “On the TL ward we have 4 schizophrenics, 2 with BPD, and various and sundry other disorders. At least one that’s in the early stages of Alzheimer's... I’m gonna get calls. And that’s not to mention my client in the community.” Clint whistled softly, “Jesus. How do you organize all that?”
“Luck,” you answer smirking, “Luck and postie notes.”
Bruce gently redirects the conversation, for which you’re grateful. You’re used to the endless questions. People treat your job like a super-secret thing. Like they’re getting insider information. People don’t understand what you do. Or why you do it. You guess even superheroes get curious. Bruce's fingers find the sore spot on the back of your neck and you relax against him. It had been a long day and you want to go home and go to bed. But, until 4am, you have to stay awake. You know technically you can sleep on call but you also know that if you sleep, you’ll sleep right through the phone calls. You listen to the chatter, comforted by the warmth of being tucked into Bruce’s side. Listening to the rumble of his voice. He’s happy. You can tell. And that makes you happy.
He deserves it. You look up at him adoringly and even Tony feels himself melt a little. When Bruce looks down at you and kisses you softly Clint “Aww’s” out loud and you blush. “Grotesquely cute,” Tony mutters, making Natasha and Steve both smack him. Bruce brushes hair out of your eyes, “I better get you home, huh?” he said. “I’m okay if you want to stay,” you say yawning, “I have to be on call until 4am anyway.” He smiled, “Can you stay awake that long?” he asked. “Yeah. It’s just gonna take coffee.”
He tutted softly and picked up your bag, “Well,” she said, “You have a coffee maker at home. Let’s go.”
Bruce let you drive to the cabin. He liked it when you drove. It gave him the chance to relax and enjoy the view. Enjoy watching you, your hair flowing in the light breeze. It made him happy.
You followed the winding roads through the mountains. It was amazing and breathtaking but the feeling of Bruce's gentle hand stroking your thigh was what had you distracted. You couldn’t look at him without blushing furiously.
He had your panties in his pocket. And his hand was circling ever so slightly higher on your thigh. Soft, lazy, aimless caresses. Your heart was pounding in your ears. For someone that didn’t think he had very much experience, he was really good at making your head turn. You glanced at Bruce and your cheeks turned red, “Too much?” he asked, his hand stilling. You swallow hard but shake your head, “I thought you said you weren’t experienced,” you said smiling a little before turning back to watch the road. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about things,” he said smiling a little. “I spend a lot of time thinking about you,” he admitted. You bite your lip to keep from smiling. Bruce didn’t caress any hight on your thigh, careful not to be overwhelming, but he didn’t stop stroking the silky skin either.
He liked this. The heat he felt on your skin and the knowledge that you were burning for him the way he burnt for you. It put to bed insecurities that he never voiced. The worry that you didn’t really find him physically attractive. He knew you did, but that didn’t stop the anxiety that gnawed at him sometimes when he felt you get overwhelmed and pull away. He knew it was stupid. That’s partly why he never mentioned it. Any time you were with him, no one else existed for you. There was no flirting, not even accidentally. Your hand was never far from his and if he was separated from you for any reason, you looked for him. He knew. He was a safe place. Your place to hide. A soft place to fall. But the moment when your skin flushed and you cried his name softly as he brought you to pieces in his arms... He was proud of that. Proud of you for trusting him. For letting him take care of you the way he knew you needed him to.
When you pulled down the drive to the cabin and parked the jeep, you pulled him into a soft kiss. “It’s beautiful,” you murmur, “I love it.” Bruce carded his fingers through your windblown hair and grinned, “Not as beautiful as you, though.” He knows it’s cheesy but it’s worth the eye roll and the giggle in spite of yourself. He kisses your nose and lets you wiggle out of the jeep. Together you get the bags inside and Bruce pulls you into his arms gently. For a moment, he gets lost in the warmth and the colors flowing in your irises. It still catches him by surprise some times. He hopes that never stops. When you stand on your toes to be kissed, he obliges happily. You toy with the hair at the nape of his neck as he kisses you back and he shivers pleasantly.
“Where were we?” he asked, smirking. You blush and bite your lip, pulling him back towards the bedroom, “You put my panties in your pocket,” you answer quietly. Bruce smirked, “I do remember that” he teased. In the bedroom, his fingers find the hem of your tank top and he pauses, waiting for permission. You nod and help him get it off of you before you start working the buttons on his shirt. He doesn’t stop you. He knows how much you love his body, because it’s his and he’s yours. He stays very still and just lets himself enjoy your soft hands on his skin. The press of your lips on his shoulders and chest. “That’s so nice,” he sighed, relaxing under your touches. He only stopped you to lay you on the bed. A big soft bed, just like he promised. You look up at him, wide-eyed and he can see the anxiety bubbling just under the surface. “Shh,” he soothes, kissing your nose. “We have all the time in the world, baby. There’s no rush. The champagne isn’t even chilled yet,” that makes you smile and he caresses the ticklish spot on your side to make you giggle and he chuckles. “Bruce?” you murmur. “Hmm?” he answers, caressing your bare tummy, making you shiver. “How are you so patient about everything?” you ask. He grins and cuddles you close. He’d love to get you naked. Make you come until you’re a puddle a satisfied, boneless, lazy witch. But he can be patient. You’ve only been in the cabin for 30 minutes. “Good things take time, baby girl,” he says lovingly. “I know that this is important to you. That for you, it’s almost tantamount to getting married. Loving me that much, trusting me enough to even get this far,” he smiles when you nuzzle his chest. “Baby, I can wait. You need time and that’s okay. You’re the best thing in my life,” he continued, “I just... the one thing that bothers me ever, is how... anxious you get when we have to stop.” He tilts your chin up, “I’m sorry that anyone ever made you feel like you’re doing something wrong. You’re allowed to say no. I don’t care if we’re in the middle of making love. Too much is too much. If you need me to stop, we’ll stop.”
He covers your face in kisses until you giggle and pins you underneath him playfully. He pins your wrists over your head gently and grins, “You understand me? Right?” he asks. You nod, blushing and he chuckles, “Good,” he said. Bruce kisses you and licks gently into your mouth, coaxing you into deeper kisses. He wants this. Anything you can give. He desperately wants this intimacy, the feel of the silk of your skin. He can feel the fire starting to burn and the heat sweeping over your skin. When you wiggle to sit up, he lets go of your wrists and moves off of you to let you up. He tries not to stare but he can’t help it. You’re taking off your bra and he’s very, very eager for that. Your cheeks color and he moves slowly. Caressing the soft skin cautiously. He groans in pleasure and you shiver as his fingers ghost over your nipples, “So perfect,” he praises, “So fucking pretty.” You look up at him and give him a shy smile, “Oh?” He nods and kisses your lips softly, “Lie back for me?” he requests. “Why?” you ask softly. “Because,” he answers, “I want you comfortable while I admire every bit of you.” He smiles as you do as he asks, “Good girl,” he soothes, kissing you tenderly and starting to kiss along your jaw and down your neck.
He keeps himself in check. He’s never been allowed to get you this naked before. There’s nothing between you but the cotton of your skirt and his pants. When you reach for his hips and you pause at the button, asking him for permission, he blushes but nods. He realizes you probably feel a little too exposed. That you want to level the playing field a little. It’s fair, he decides. He helps you take his slacks off and hides his face in your breasts for a moment, basking in the feel of the softness and silk. He groans and sighs, “Oh, sweetheart,” he praises, “Please.” He sucks a soft mark into your right breast as he kisses down your body to nuzzle your belly. He finds the hem of your skirt and strokes your calf, “Baby?” he asked softly. “Yeah?” you pant. Your skin feels too tight and you need him to keep touching you. You can feel how wet you are and it’s making you self conscious. “Let me make you come again?” he asked, “Please?” You bite your lip and he waits, kissing your stomach tenderly. “I want you to feel good about this,” he encourages, “And... I want to show off. Just a little.” You laugh and card your fingers through his hair, “When do I get to show off for you, though?”
He looks up at you with a soft smile, “After we make love,” he said softly, “After we get to come apart together.” Your cheeks color and he chuckles, “Baby, I’m a big boy. I’m more worried about you than I am me. Especially after I watched you come for me earlier.” He tickles your side and grins when you giggle, “It’s my job,” he reassured, “My favorite job. To take care of you like you deserve... To love you the way you love me.”
You can’t resist him when he’s like this. He’s so fucking cute. He loves you and you can practically feel it. You don’t know what it is, about this place. This moment. It’s perfect. Looking into Bruce’s face, you know he feels it too. “Bruce,” you start. He laces his fingers through yours and kisses your fingers, “I think,” you say, exhaling slowly, “I- I.” It’s absurdly hard to get the words out. He waits, trying not to hold his breath. Trying not to think ahead too far. “Make love to me?” you blurt out. He nods seriously, claiming your lips in a kiss that leaves you breathless and dizzy as he pulls your skirt off and his boxers, pushing it all to the floor. When he pulls away to admire you, you smile up at him nervously and he caressed your cheek, “Remember,” he murmured, “We can stop.” You nod and he fumbles for a condom out of the drawer where he put them. He hadn’t expected to need them right now. Not tonight in the dusky twilight air. The fading orange light making you glow with an unearthly light.
You felt like magic under his hands. You crackled with energy and heat as he parted your thighs carefully. You’d talked about this with him before. Why it had such significance. It wasn’t the puritanical Christian idea of virginity he’d learned as a kid. It wasn’t anything like that. For you, it was a need for security. For trust. Feeling a soul deep connection with another human being before you gave them your body. It was a promise. An expression of love you only wanted to give to one person. Bruce was nervous. Trembling hands and shaking breath. He wanted you so much. To make sure you were comfortable and safe.
He kept it slow as he brought you off on his fingers first, careful to take the opportunity to stretch you a little to help you avoid pain. He heaps you with reassurances and praises as he brings you down a little and rolls the condom over his throbbing prick. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, kissing your nose. You nod, “I’m ready,” you answer, breathless. “I love you so much,” you tell him, “I want this. I want it with you.” Bruce is unexpectedly overwhelmed, tears welling up. You’re giving him this moment. All of your love. With no conditions. Handing him your heart and soul. Trusting him to protect them. You wipe the tears away and pull him down for a kiss. He pushes into you carefully as he kisses you. Going slowly so he doesn’t hurt you. You gasp softly at the sensation and he pauses, “Okay?” he pants. You nod, “I- yes.” you answer, hiding your face in his shoulder. When he’s all the way inside you, he stops. Giving you time to adjust, “You feel so good,” he murmured, “So good.” He waits until you nod before he starts moving. When he starts moving he touches your clit softly, eager to bring you to bliss again. To make you come for him as he comes for you. “Fuck,” you pant, arching into him, “Bruce- I- Oh god.” He knows you’re close. Moments away. and for that, he’s thankful. It’s been so long he’s struggling to hold back. He could have come the second he was inside you if he hadn’t stopped. When you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulder, he lets go and comes with you, saying your name. You look up at him, eyes shining with his favorite galaxy of colors and emotional tears. “Bruce,” you say, kissing him. He wipes the tears away and cuddles you for a moment as he softens inside you. He loved you so much he wanted to scream it from the rooftops. Ask you to marry him. Start talking about baby names. He soothes you softly, kissing and petting as he disengages from you. “Wait here,” he says, going to get a washcloth and take care of the condom.
He’s careful, mindful that you might be sore as he cleans you up. He kisses your thigh softly and smiles. The room is dark now but, he doesn’t mind. He just wants to pull you close. Cover you in thick soft blankets and hold you tight. It wasn’t exactly champagne and smooth talk but somehow, he wouldn’t change it for the world. You’d been so honest and so sweet. Trusting. “I love you,” he said softly as you nuzzle into his chest sleepily. “I love you, too,” you yawn, starting to fall asleep. Comfortably tired and secure in Bruce’s arms. You hadn’t expected it to be so easy. You never expected to love anyone this much, but here you were. It felt like heaven.
