summary: Gotham never sleeps. and neither do the vigilantes that protect the city dutifully. You, an orphan meta-human with a clumsy knowledge about your abilities and a mentor that scooped you up from the streets of Gotham, vow to find your purpose amongst them. Along the way, you find a complication named Damian Wayne.
updates on fridays
2024 masterlist
2025 masterlist
Chapter One: The Boy in the Cave
Chapter Two: Mutual
Chapter Three: Relucant Allies
Chapter Four: Birds of Prey
Chapter Five: Of a Feather
Chapter Six: A Reunion and a Departure
Chapter Seven: Titans
Chapter Eight: Lady in Red
Chapter Nine: al Ghuls
Chapter Ten: Wayne
Chapter Eleven: Leucochloridium Paradoxum
Chapter Twelve: Summit
Chapter Thirteen: Close one Door, Another will Open
𝄞. 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: with the sudden information that your boyfriend luke is leaving camp, it leaves you feeling as confused as ever. based off this request
bf!luke x fem!reader soft, angsty smut wc: ~1.8k
warnings: +18 content read under your own risk!, p in v, unprotected (i think everyone gets it now but repeat it after me, wrap before you tap it), angst, use of pet/nick names (baby & sweetheart), kissing (obviously…), use of y/n once, mentioning of possible cheating once (fake, just self-doubt. cheating free page here!), aftercare… always
enjoy!
The situation didn’t feel as warm, comforting—that feeling lacked even after attempts of gaining that feeling again.
And it was because of one reason, and one reason only.
Your wonderful boyfriend Luke stopped by your cabin around the time of the campfire so the cabin would be cleared out.
Your siblings finding a spot around the campfire, humming and laughing along to the music the Apollo kids played on their instruments. A moment where everything—all the problems of being a demi-god, all of the harsh training just to keep your life, sort of disappeared for a couple of hours.
Luke walked into your cabin, the usual way his eyes sparkled dulled like there was no real thought behind them.
You sat up from your bed, earphones that connected to the cassette player laid frozen next to you.
“Luke?”
His eyebrows perked up just in the tiniest bit. He strolled over, and as Luke came closer you noticed—
“What’s wrong, baby?”
You put your hand on his forearm, feeling the prominent veins and tension in his arms even though he let out a drawled breath.
“I’m leaving camp.” Luke announced, almost like he was choking it out but had a great way of masking his own feelings.
That’s how you found yourself there, Luke balls deep into you, fully bottomed out.
A muffled high-pitched sound covered by the palm of his hand as he rolled his hips against yours to try and get more depth in.
Luke clutched onto your hip with his right hand almost too tight, just enough to leave the faintest bruise—a mark that he was here.
“Take it, baby. I know you want to.” He groaned into your neck, his hot breath right by your ear sending you into another universe.
Luke’s left hand fell down to your waist, caressing the soft skin with a few squeezes.
In some ways, you knew this was wrong. Your boyfriend had just dropped a bomb and left you to deal with it later.
A part of you wanted him to pull out and talk. What was it all coming from? Why the sudden departure?
Maybe it was a part of the reason why it felt like Luke wasn’t present all the time. At first, cheating came to mind but it shortly passed by.
Impossible, almost the entire camp knew how madly in love he was with you. From him always breaking the rules and sticking by your side at lunch or dinner to sneaking into the woods late at night for just a glimpse of your skin—more than your arms and legs.
It was like Luke craved you, and although PDA wasn’t your most favourite thing, it was safe to say that everyone knew he was yours.
Luke’s movements were just right. Not too slow but not too fast, but hard enough to hit the best spots in the right place.
His lips placed open lip kisses from your collarbone to the dip of your shoulder and to your jawline. Softly and slowly, he moved.
Like he was trying to remember every part of you for the last time.
“I love you—Gods, I love you.” Luke mumbled into your throat like he was spitting out words.
Your hands clasped around his biceps, desperate to pull him closer, to feel him into your stomach.
A certain harsher grind of the hips elicited a moan out of you as you bit into his shoulder, gripping onto his hair with your hands.
Luke’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of your walls around his dick, so tight and warm.
He finally lifted his head from your chest area, his eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, watching in delight as your head tilted back because of his constant soft thrusts.
Luke easily closed the distance like he did thousands of times—something he’d gotten so used to, more than he realised.
He pressed his hungry lips to yours, a soft desperation to have the chance to explore.
Your fingers curled, pulling slightly on his curls making him whimper quietly but enough to set you going.
The constant rotation of hearing his sounds to clutching tighter around his cock and his response with holding on tighter to your hips and going in deeper sent you almost off the edge and into a spiral of overstimulation.
Your gasps and his soft groans. The feel of his warm, strong hands holding you tight and feeling almost safe.
You still couldn’t shake off the feeling of something bad happening—something to do with Luke.
What was so important that he had to leave so soon? So in a rush?
“Why—why do you h-have to go?” You panted and mumbled against his lips but he only cut you off.
His lips bit onto your bottom lip softly in an attempt to silence you and not go into any details.
“Shhh, baby. It’s alright,” Luke hummed, a small vibration going through you.
“You feel so good—“ a mixture of a moan and curses fell out of his mouth.
He separated his lips from yours, a short strand of salvia between you two. “You’re so good. ‘You close?” Luke rasped by your ear.
You nodded quickly, almost embarrassingly.
“Good, so good, sweetheart.”
Luke’s hand fell down in between your bodies, a groan escaping his mouth as he saw the mixture of your arousal and him deep inside of you, unrelentlessly thrusting his hips in a softer way than usual.
His fingers felt your clit, applying a soft pressure to it and rubbing circles to bring you closer to your unraveling.
Your fingernails dug into his biceps with a slight chock.
The feel of his calloused fingers after countless years of sword fighting and training rubbing on your sensitive spot and his dick hard, and still throbbing inside of you—
It was safe to stay you a bit more than a little overstimulated.
“Luke—I’m gonna-“ you struggled to pull your words together.
Luke applied more kisses to your skin, now in the valley of your breasts, loving every part of them while softly playing with one in his left palm. “I know baby, just a little bit— mm… longer. I want to do it together.”
It didn’t take him much longer till Luke couldn’t handle it anymore.
The knot in your stomach snapped as you let out an unrestrained moan of pleasure mixed with his sharp, drawn-out groans that were almost pornographic.
The mixture of your arousal and both your cum, Luke lifted his finger from your clit, still rolling his hips into you but deeper than before—like he was trying to stuff you up.
“I love you, I love you, I lov—“ he continued to say with his eyes closed, hands gripping tightly onto whatever he could get them on.
Your eyes fluttered closed, your lips opened just slightly to be able to say:
“So why won’t you stay?”
His pace slowed almost immediately, hands close to limp like dead weight. Luke didn’t lift his gaze—too afraid to meet yours.
He took a beat to respond, like he was drafting his response carefully. “It’s for the best, sweetheart.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, face scrunching up slightly while your lips turned into a pout. “What do you mean?”
Luke didn’t respond.
“Luke…” you paused, shifting in your spot, still aware of the hot liquid of mixture inside you and going down your thighs while his cock stayed still, twitching ever so slightly.
“What did you get yourself into—?”
Luke pulled out a bit quicker than you'd like, definitely not how it’s normally like.
“Let me clean you up.” He told up without another word, avoiding your gaze while making his way to the bathrooms in the middle of your cabin.
You were just glad that no one could come in at that moment.
Either too busy with the fire or too busy with trying to get the cabin door to open since Luke did something strange to keep it locked.
You sat there for less than a minute before he came back again, a wet towel in his hand, himself looking cleaned already.
Luke came close, wiping your thighs and more, gently kissing over the spots he wiped. The coldness of the wet towel sends shivers down your spine.
In the meantime, you thought deeply.
You couldn’t shake off the feeling.
You opened your mouth to say something again but Luke cut you off—looking like it was on purpose.
“I’ll get you some clothes.” His eyes met yours for a slight second before moving to your clothes drawers and picking out a comfy outfit.
In the second you met his gaze again, you could feel the guilt, embarrassment, melancholy—anger in his eyes. A sugarcoat to how he truly feels.
You wish you could speak up—
Maybe it’s all one sick joke, maybe next morning you’ll wake up to Luke by your side like nothing happened.
When he came back, he dressed you up and all quickly—all already fixed up himself.
The bed dipped under his weight again, going behind you to spoon you. His left hand rested underneath your boob in a comfortable position like always, while his other carefully massaged your skin.
Luke placed an open mouth kiss to the dip of your neck, lingering in the spot.
“I love you, y/n. Don’t forget it.”
You couldn’t deny that you spent a couple more hours after that staring at your wall, polaroids and pictures of your friends and family—a lot with Luke included.
Especially the time Luke took you on a date on your first anniversary to the beach. It wasn’t too big or meaningful but hey—he did manage to get no one else access to the beach in the duration of your date.
Your heart ached weirdly.
Sleep came like it was out of place, like the hands around you were a placeholder.
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you looked to the wall but realised all the polaroids—all the memories, were gone.
Disappeared. Vanished.
But probably it was just because you weren’t in your room anymore.
You woke up on a silk bed, cuff around your right hand and left leg to keep you staying still.
Panic reached your lungs in an instant, the unknowing of where you were or who you were captured by.
Until, the door opened softly.
Your eyes widened, small tears coming to your eyes. Luke walked over to you, seeing you chained on the bed like it was all planned.
“Luke…?” You muttered.
He smiled, almost looking wickedly.
Luke ran a hand through your hair, caressing your skull gently.
“Hi baby, I’m happy to see you’re awake.”
The cuffs rattled against your skin as you tried to escape them. “Luke—where the fuck am I? What did you do?”
Luke shushed you again, “it’s okay. Everything will be okay now that you’re here.”
“Welcome to the Princess Andromeda, sweetheart.”
masterlist
hi lovelies!!! i hope you didn’t forget about me (🥲) i apologise for not being that active when it comes to writing, a lot has happened in the past few months and i honestly forgot about my love for writing.
i apologise for any mistakes, its almost midnight and i don’t usually reread/edit my works so please correct me if i’m wrong or something is misspelt, etc.
(edit: wtf every time I add three pics, the whole format fucks up when I post. Bomboclat.) Maybe a oneshot, maybe a series, we'll see
Content: Red Hood & Spider person!reader, gender neutral reader, Batfamily included
Dynamics: potential Jason x Reader?, vigilante & vigilante, cat and mouse
Word count: 874
"Now, what in the hell is that?" Jason groaned exasperated, his mask's voice modulator garbling his gruff voice.
He had been on patrol for two hours too many at this point, his eyes were stinging with fatigue. He was prepared to call it a night, turn in, maybe eat whatever leftover takeout was in his fridge and pass out asleep. Those plans had to be put on hold when you appeared, clad in a Spandex suit of red and blue, your mask hiding your identity, swinging from what looked like webs.- between skyscrapers with such reckless abandonment, as if Gotham is your personal playground.
Jason's eyes follow your form as you run along the roof of a moving train, swooping under a bridge and through to the main street with acrobatic prowess, that even Dick would be jealous of, and unnatural speed. Great, a meta on top of the whole shitty sundae, how else were you moving like Roadrunner on crack? He could hear B's voice in the back of his mind, Jason was going to have to confront you, wasn't he?
He groaned again, even more exasperated, he really needed to pick a better hobby than vigilantism. Having to deal daily with the dumb and the dumbest, rogues with their stupid schemes, and now, wannabe vigilantes really puts a damper on one's already soured mood. However, Jason was obligated to make sure you weren't some kid in over your head and also try to dissuade you from patrolling Gotham- which was thoroughly taken care of by him and his family.
As he set off to pursue you however, grappling hook in hand, he quickly became aware of the skill needed to move the way you did. He was struggling to keep up. Jason huffed and sprinted forward in an explosive burst of athleticism, gaining on you.
"Cuz' all I need is a beauty and a beat who can make my life complete!" Jason's brows furrowed in bewilderment under his mask, were you singing?
"It's all 'bout you, when the music makes you move. Baby, do it like you do-" oh my god, you actually were, and you were singing Justin Bieber of all things. Who the hell still listens to shit like that?
He watched in exhaustion as you stopped on a rooftop to dance a little to the beat before running off again across the skyline of Gotham. How did you have so much energy at the fuck-ass crack of dawn? You definitely were on something. Jason tapped his gauntlet, sending the cave a non-priority alert for help; he could already sense that he wasn't going to be able to deal with you without having an aneurysm.
Your singing and the headphones that you were listening to music with masked the sound of his approach. He resisted the urge to sigh when you began to rock your body to the beat. He didn't get paid enough to deal with this shit. He tapped your shoulder, trying to get your attention- which, of course, resulted in you screaming bloody murder in surprise.
You turned and he finally got a good look at your get-up, animated black lenses like bug eyes which narrowed with your expression underneath, fitted and reinforced material, and he could see an interface designed into the wrist, sleek and high-tech. This definitely wasn't the suit of an amateur, no, whoever built this had funds and material.
You pried off your headphones, "Holy jesus- fuck- What's wrong with you, you spooky bastard?!"
Jason was not going to entertain that remark. "What are you doing out here?" He walked closer, using his height to intimidate.
You edged away. "Don't- don't do it," Jason warned, recognising a runner when he saw one.
Like a startled cat, you began skeddaddling away. "Dammit!" Jason let out a growl of annoyance and began taking after you, "Why are you running!?"
"Why are you chasing me?!" You shouted back, sliding down the tilted roof of the building and leaping across the street to the adjacent building. Yeah, no way he was doing that without breaking his neck.
By the time he managed to hook his grappling hook around the building's railing and swing over, you're way ahead of him, disappearing into the Gotham night. Just as Nightwing finally arrives on the scene.
"You took your damn time," Jason gritted out, frustrated and pride mildly hurt at this defeat.
Dick whistles lowly, tilting his head teasingly, "You let em' go? That isn't like you, little wing."
Jason shoved his brother's shoulder, "Shut up, I didn't. It's a damn meta, they're all slippery bastards."
"Sounds like excuses," Dick grinned, flashing his pearly whites just to annoy Jason. It was working.
"You try it, they've got better acrobatic moves than you." Jason snapped.
That caught Dick's attention, "Wait, what? Not just some newbie, huh, they're trained?"
Jason sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck in irritation, "Trained and funded."
"Huh." Dick's expression morphed into something delightfully intrigued with his growing interest. "Well, at least you can say that tonight wasn't boring."
Again with the overwhelming optimism, Jason had had enough of smart alecks for tonight. "I'm going home."
"Sweet dreams, baby brother!" Dick received a middle finger in response.
A/N; i just started watching invincibles instead of studying for my final exams🥲 anyaways! Enjoy :P
You knew you were different the moment your mom left you at age eight to live with hotshot playboy millionaire Bruce Wayne.
And the moment you realized you could change atoms.
The moment you turned your bedroom lamp into a pile of pink crystals.
That was a pretty good hint.
unfortunately, your life didn’t exactly get easier after that.
at age 14 you became atom eve
Your “family” didn’t notice you, actually, that’s not true. neglect requires noticing somebody first.
damian communicated by pulling out one of his many knives when he’s annoyed at you, and jason was “dead”. Dick was in blüdhaven cass and steph didnt dislike you but they didn’t exactly try. And don’t even get me started on tim.
Your “family” didn’t notice when you sneak out.
Or that youre atom eve.
You might know their secret which isnt a secret really, seriously, for “world’s greatest detective” you found out after 2 weeks that he’s Batman!
But they dont know your secret.
At least not yet, they weren’t dumb just neglectful
Your school life was alright..
Nothing special.
You had two friends you trusted with your whole life, mark and amber
Mark, who was also a superhero
Invincible
Which is a misleading considering how often you had to save his ass on every fight.
Pathetic, really.
Still your bond is pretty tight because both of yours parents are “heroes”
Thought marks dad wasn’t exactly winning father of the year. And yours is a Emo furry who cosplays…fun.
I mean bruce would try
KEYWORD: TRY
he tried to talk to you… ask you how school was normal father talk but its always awkward… not like when hes with cass, hell even that brat of a child, damian..
sure sometimes you miss the fatherly love you never got.
Fathers day was the worse days of all really.
Sometimes even jason joined, they never told you he was alive or that he was the king of crime red hood but people dont tell you lots of things… like movie night… and cass ballet recital.. and when they go to park.
You find out after and they always say some half assed excuse like “we didn’t think you would want to go.” Or your favorite “we didn’t find you” which is a blatant lie.
you vent to mark all the time, but hell, even he doesn’t get it. His mother is one hell of a woman and even his father wasn’t absent unlike yours, alfred was different more formal which is alright. he’d brings you dinner when its family dinner night which you dont join because conversations always quiet down when you come.
you got ready for school late because you helped gotham as the one and only atom eve. (Best hero in your humble opinion)
you strapped your bag over your shoulder as you headed downstairs to get alfreds delicious food. he never fails to disappoint, his waffles tastes like they were hand crafted by the gods themselves, as you reached the kitchen. You hear a person scoff as you turn around.
“Ptff, eating breakfast like a pig. we are late for school.”
“Yeah? I also eat 10 year old brats for breakfast.”
Damian looked unmused as he scoffed “pfft. I could kill you in under a minute, y/n.”
you looked at him.. its not that you dont believe him no you do. its just hes so painfully annoying all the time so serious like bruce, like father like son i guess
Also does this guy scoff during every sentence? or does he only do that to you?
You grabbed your bag and followed the demon (which he probably is.)
the car drive there was awkward, they didn’t say anything because you were there.
timothy. god, you hated his ass he was a cocky pretentious asshole. you would’ve said it to his face but hes always busy. Honestly, it’s shocking that he didn’t skip school today. Soon enough you stand at the front gates of gotham prep.. which is also a school for pretentious assholes which fits poor ol’ timothy perfectly!
you walked in as mark flaked to you
“Y/N!”
“Mark.”
“Amazing night last night, saw the news. i was grounded”
You stared at him.
You were waited for mark that night. He didnt come.
“I was waiting for you. give me a heads up next time.”
“Yeah, yeah, my bad”
“Can i come to your house tonight?”
“Jesus, if you wanna meet the demon brat and that arrogant asshole, then sure.”
“So thats a yes?”
“Thats a yes.”
As you leaned whispering something to mark “joker planned bombs all over the city last night, heard B talking about it.. wanna join? me and you only.”
Mark perked up “Hell yeah!”
You smiled.
“Dick is in blüdhaven, jasons in crime alley, im pretty sure D and T are doing their nightly thing with B so it’ll just be you me and alfred.” You we’re glad they Patrol early “And im pretty sure hes gonna bake some cookies tonight”
as marks eyes light up like a kid on Christmas day when he heard cookies
“Really!”
“fat ass!” You jokingly jabbed your elbow with his side
“cant blame a guy for wanting to eat! Those cookies are gold on earth!” Mark defended himself.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.”
“You know what I mean!”
You sigh
“yeah yeah—” As the bell rings “time for math”
you and mark groan in unison.
math was a terror. the teacher couldn’t teach for shit. you had a pop quiz which you didnt even revise for because you were too busy saving people.
you and mark cheated off each other, which is basically dumb and dumber.
After a hell of a school day you went home of course no one greeted you. Of course.
Well except alfred
“miss y/n, welcome back”
“Thanks, Alfred. mark is coming over. can you bake cookies tonight?”
“Of course, miss y/n.”
mark is going to geek out, as he always does.
“Miss y/n!”
You heard Alfred yell your name
“COMING!” It knew it was mark
“Y/n!”
“Mark!”
You hugged like a couple who haven’t seen each other in years. even though you saw each other this morning.
As I’ve said before, you two were tight.
mark immediately took two cookies as you lead to your room “well, mark. i know you didnt come to my house to study.” As you shut the door behind you
“lets cut to the fun part.”
“I hope you do realize we should study.”
“Boring, the joker is waiting up on bats. Let’s take the show.”
—
Fighting the joker really wasn’t easy.
“YOU SHOULD BE ON MY SIDE!”
The Joker laughed as he dodged another one of your pink constructs.
“WE CAN TEAR DOWN THE OLD POWER STRUCTURE!”
You launched another blast.
“BUILD A NEW ORDER!”
“Oh my god, shut up!”
You threw three constructs at once.
He somehow dodged all three.
What is he? A flying Grayson?
“I mean look at the costume they’ve got you in!” Joker continued, pointing dramatically at you. “Talk about pandering to gender roles!”
You looked down at your suit.
Then back at him. “I designed my own costume!”
Mark snorted beside you.
“And I thought your whole thing was stand-up comedy!”
Joker nodded solemnly. “And I was an actor.”
“BUT ENOUGH POLITICS!”
Before he could continue, Mark shot forward.
WHAM.
Joker hit the pavement.
Hard.
“Ow,” you muttered.
Invincible grinned.
“Got him.”
You quickly trapped Joker in a giant pink sphere construct.
The clown pressed his face against the barrier.
“You know, this is why nobody likes superheroes.”
“You put bombs hospitals man, you are bored as hell if you do that.”
You and Mark exchanged a look.
“Arkham?”
“Arkham.”
The joker was probably going to escape by tomorrow.
But that was tomorrow’s problem.
Tonight was for flying.
For a few hours it was just you and Mark soaring above Gotham.
Eventually Mark checked his phone.
“Oh crap.”
“What?”
“Chemistry exam tomorrow.”
You groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“You should study.” Mark pointed at you.
“I should head home.”
“Yeah.”
Then flew off.
You watched him disappear into the night sky.
Then sighed. you should probably go home. dinner was probably over.
Not that anyone would’ve noticed if you missed it.
Like usual.
—
Sneaking through your window was easy.
The moment you changed out of your costume there was a knock at your door.
“Knock knock!” It was stephanie.
You blinked.
“Coming.”
You opened the door halfway.
“What?”
“Family dinner. Bruce wants you downstairs.”
You stared.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Well.
That was a first.
The walk downstairs felt weird.
Like you were walking into a trap.
This mansion was so stupidly big that sometimes you forgot how much empty space was actually inside it.
The second you stepped into the dining room every conversation stopped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.
Great.
Alfred set a plate in front of you.
Mashed potatoes.
You started eating.
Then somebody coughed. you look up. ah, dick.
“So, Y/N. How was school today?”
“It was normal.”
“Any friends?”
“Yeah.”
Damian scoffed. “I see her in the halls. One friend. How pathetic.”
You froze.
Tim laughed.
That bowlcut son of a bitch did not just laugh.
“Shut up, Damian.”
“Excuse me?”
“Shut up. I’m not repeating myself, asshole.”
Damian stood up immediately.
“You—”
Before you and Damian can fight Bruce raised a hand.
“Y/N. Don’t speak to your younger brother that way.”
You stared.
Of course he’s on Damian’s side.
“He started it.”
“He’s a child.”
“Bullshit!”
Every eye snapped to you.
“He’s killed more people than I can count. He can survive me telling him to eat shit.”
“ENOUGH!”
Bruce’s voice cut through the room.
“Go to your room.”
You laughed bitterly.
“Seriously?”
“Now. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”
Tim muttered something.
“The reason we don’t invite her anywhere.”
Maybe he was right?
Your chair scraped against the floor. “Fine.”
Your voice sounded small. you hated it, you didn’t wanna cry you would be proving them right.
You turned around before anyone could see your eyes.
You didn’t go to your room like hell you were staying here.
You put your costume back on.
Then flew.
The city blurred beneath you. Cold air hit your face.
It helped.
Eventually you ended up outside Mark’s house.
His bedroom window was open.
You landed on the roof.
You were about to call his name.
Then you looked inside.
Mark and amber were making out.
Your stomach dropped.
Oh.
You looked away.
“Good for you, Mark.”
You didn’t blame him. How could you? he didn’t know that you liked him, you never told him. Now you don’t plan on it
That wasn’t his fault tho.
It still hurts though.
Maybe you’d patrol for a while.
It wasn’t like anyone at home was waiting for you.
A/N: i promise i like tim drake i just hate his bowlcut🥹
word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!
CW: family fluff, pregnancy
NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol
Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.
You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.
The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.
”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.
”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”
”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.
“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.
“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.
“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.
Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.
“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”
“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.
You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.
The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.
“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”
“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.
“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.
You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”
Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.
“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.
“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.
“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”
And sure enough he was right.
“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.
“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.
“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.
“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.
“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.
“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.
You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.
“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.
You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”
“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.
Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”
“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.
“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”
“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”
A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.
“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.
“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.
“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.
“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.
You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.
“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.
“Not it!”
“Not it!”
Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.
Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.
“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”
“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.
You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.
“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.
You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.
“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.
“No,” you immediately said.
“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.
Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”
“Language!” You scolded him.
“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.
“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”
“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.
“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.
“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.
“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.
“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.
Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.
“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.
“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.
“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.
“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”
Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”
“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.
Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.
Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.
OHH okay! Thank you for answering my question! Then, if you can, how would bat boys(or kyle lol) flirting with Mc, who at the end of the convo reveals that they have a kid(like 5yo) and would completely understand if they didn't wanted to take this further?
OR! OR OR OROR-
Imagine Mc is Bruce's daughter who was not involved in bat business and went abroad, hiding from the media with their partner, living their best life when all of the sudden, batfam visits and they both look at Mc and the baby in their arms and everyone's like "WDYM YOU HAVE A BABY AND WE NEVER KNEW- WDYM IT'S BEEN 3 MONTHS???" (basically the case that, you never showed the sighs of Pregnant went to labor and suddenly you have a kid you didn't even know existed til last minute. And in your panic and stress forgot to inform them but this is just what I think would happen you don't have to use it lol)
you don't have to do this lol, ty for taking time to read this<3 HAVE A GREAT DQYY!!
BATBOYS REACTING TO YOU HAVING A KID
pairing: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x Reader (seperated)
summary: Batboys flirt with you until they realise you have a small child
warnings: none
a/n: I didn't put Damian Wayne in here, I thought it felt a bit off, so I added Bruce to it! Thank you for the request, I chose the first option you described, but I'll maybe consider writing something for the second option. This is a little different from my usual format, but I made sure this still looks pretty and can be understandable. Thank you again and also have a great day!!!
BRUCE WAYNE
He saw you before, once, when he was Damian's dog out for a walk at the park nearby. At first, he didn't plan on flirting with you when Titus walked over and sniffed at your bag.
At first he was afraid you'd get scared when a Great Dane came your way and curiously sniffed at your handbag, but you didn't budge a muscle at him.
So, of course, Bruce came over to pick up the dog and hopefully not make you freak out. With a light jog, he quickly put the leash back on Titus, already looking sheepish at the situation.
"Sorry about him, he didn't scare you, did he?", but you seemed even amused at this. Maybe he underestimated you.
Soon enough, you got into a conversation, petted Titus gently, becoming even more fund of this big animal.
Bruce sat down beside you on the bench and kept talking to you, thinking you have a charming and kind personality. He'd be damned soon enough, he knows it.
That's how he started flirting with you; it started with subtle compliments until he couldn't help himself anymore. His nice words became progressively more direct, but still respectful as ever. All in all, he was sure he already got your heart.
That was until a small kid came up to you with a big smile, hands a bit dirty from the playing in the mud. That small human couldn't be older than five years old. He was confused for a moment as he watched the interaction between the two of you, eventually realising that is your kid.
God, he felt guilty. You were probably happily married with someone way better than him and just kept up with his flirting so you wouldn't come off as rude. Once the child went back to playing with the other group of kids on the playground, he tried his best to keep his embarrassment aside.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a kid. Well... I have four of my own, so..." He really doesn't know what to say. But you still remain kind and sweet, even though he was shamelessly flirting wtih you a second ago.
With a kind smile, you wave him off; "Oh, don't you worry. It was nice talking to you anyway. And you have kids of your own? How old are they?"
And that's how he continued talking to you, getting back to good terms and his embarrassment long forgotten. Seems like you both do have more in common than it seemed. Bruce couldn't be more happy than to keep talking to you and spend time, but you eventually parted ways after a longer while, with each other's phone numbers exchanged.
DICK GRAYSON
He was out with Damian to get ice cream when he saw you in the line, hoping he can get some quick excuse to talk with you alone. Yeah, Damian will annoy him for days about it and tell on him, but who cares? That's a one chance oppurtunity he's got there and he will use it.
Dick got Damian away by getting him into a cool book and supply store nearby, making his own way to you.
He didn't want to come off as too desperate or obvious, 'accidently' cutting you in line so he can strike a conversation with you in that way. You responded kindly to his small accident, waving him off politely.
The conversation started with him introducing himself shortly after, getting to know the basics about each other before he starts basically showering you with compliments. But he was trying to come off as subtle and charming as possible, which came naturally for him.
His light-hearted jokes and loving words seemed to work on you, so he didn't mind keeping this up while getting to know you more. Now with ice cream cones in your hands, you settled onto a table inside the cool shop and continued talking.
You got into more conversation once you sat down together and enjoyed the ice cream together, getting to know the other a little more once he stopped overflowing you with compliments.
But he got a bit confused when you got up to get another portion of ice cream, in a small cup with a sweet waffle in it. Curiously, he just had to ask you about it.
"Another ice cream?" It was more of a mutter to himself, but you still heard it when you sat down across from him again. "Oh, just for my son. He's playing there right now, but he told me to get him some ice cream aswell." You gesture towards the playground next to the ice cream shop, making him search for a small kid that could be yours.
Why didn't he notice earlier? It was so obvious now that he knows, why would someone get ice cream next to a playground anyway? He really tries to not think too much of it and get back on track, but he also didn't want to get into such a situation at all. But of course nothing ever goes his way.
Damian is next to him out of nowhere, asking him to go home. He probably got some books from that store he was just now, judging by the plastic bag in his hand.
"Is that your kid? You guys have the same nose. Cute." You smile sweetly at them, completely unaware of them being brothers. Dick shoots a pleading look to Damian, hoping he'll play along.
"Uh, yeah... that's Damian." Dick chuckles nervously and gets up from the chair, putting his hand on his shoulder. Damian looks more awkward than before, keeping his glare on you.
With the final excuse of Damian being tired, he gets out of the shop and hurries home, ignoring all the questions and annoyed remarks from Damian. He knows he probably should've been more careful, but now he just feels guilty for leaving so quickly and lying.
Eventually, he thought more about the situation. A kid doesn't sound so bad after all. So, without wasting any more time he made his way to the shop again, hoping you'll be there again, even when a few days have passed already.
JASON TODD
In all honesty, he wasn't fond of kids at the start. But it quickly changed when he was patrolling as Red Hood and just had to protect the kids in Crime Alley and at the area where he grew up in.
He met you in the local library, having spotted you at the romance section and he really didn't want to disturb you searching for a book at the moment.
He eventually got his courage and walked to the same section, trying to not come off as intimidating. It didn't work, you almost immediately got to the section next to it to search for... 'children books'? Whatever, he doesn't judge.
Jason tries to ignore you as he searches a book for himself, keeping his eyes on the shelf.
Days have passed and he spots you in the same section more often. It was interesting to him, how you just appeared there out of nowhere a few days back and now he wants to get to know you. Something like this never happened before, maybe he should just ignore it as well.
Finally, he got his courage up and decided to talk to you. With a book of his own in hand, he gets up to you, hoping he won't scare you away or become awkward all of a sudden in front of you.
He asks you about what books you recommend to him in the romance section and he is actually surprised to see how kindly you respond to him. But ignoring the small surprise, he just listens and nods along. Phrases as, "Oh, really? Yeah, I've also heard that one's good.", or "I've read that actually...", and a lot of "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."
He was really sweet to you as well, actually hoping you'll see him here more often whenever you visit the library for more books to read for your kid. And of course, Jason made sure to visit the place more often just to see you and read the books you recommended to him.
Eventually, he got to ask you out for a coffee date. But you declined, explaining you can't leave you kid alone for a longer time and apologise sincerely to him over and over again.
A kid? He was speechless for a moment before his heartbeat speeds up again. What the hell should he do? Is he even allowed to ask you out? After a brief explanation of your situation with your child, he relaxes and feels more hopeful again. In reality, he wants to keep seeing you and meet the kid. He's been told he is good with them after all.
And the day came when you introduced Jason to your daughter. It was a peaceful evening spent at your apartment with you three spending time together with some board games. Your daughter soon grew on him and she was actually more than sad when he had to leave for the night.
So, basically it's hard to tell who Jason is more fond of. Of course he adores you for who you are but your kid is just another ray of sunshine.
TIM DRAKE
Tim rarely got out for his own enjoyment but he is glad he did so that one time, because now he has someone to crush on. As stupid as it sounds, it's also true.
When he first saw you, he didn't think much about it. Just a regular person who also likes comics and other 'nerdy' stuff. But when he saw you reach for the same comic he actually wanted for a longer while, that's when he had to go up to you and talk. Not that he'd do that to every other person, but it seemeed like a good idea at the time.
You were so sweet to him, you even offered to let him have it, but he quickly declined and instead settled on a casual date to show you his collection. But there was this problem...
After a week of texting together and even sharing a few flirty comments, he was sure this could work out. Until you mentioned your son.
At first, he thought you might be joking, but he soon found out that you were honest and he tried to not come off as a total douche since he has no idea about kids.
You both settled on just going for walks for now and you even went with your sweet little kid together. Tim was unsure of the situation and made sure to set boundaries and find out if you even want to keep seeing each other. Of course, for once, whatever God there is, listened to him.
He got more comfortable around your son and found out that most comics are for him. A six-year-old reading comics about aliens and complex alien-politics? Well... he wasn't better at his age.
Soon, they both became really good friends and even better friends with you. Although he was still hesitant to make a move on you.
Either way, he is also happy with just helping you out and being close friends, even when the kid manages to impress him with his immense knoweledge about comics.
Uhh any chance you can make a new Talia x fem reader fic?
If you can if not it’s good thanks.
It All Comes Down To This
── ⋆⋅*⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅*⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅*⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Talia Al Ghul x Reader x Bruce Wayne
Summary | Reader finally goes into labor, Bruce and Talia are there to make the experience as painless as possible
Words | 1.7k
tags | ecstatic birth (orgasmic birth), overstimulation, massage kink, pregnancy kink, use of "sweet girl" "beloved" "ly Liya (my night)" "ly Faris (my knight)" "Darling" "babygirl",
Notes | So while most orgasmic births aren't your partner basically helping you masturbate through birth, some orgasmic births are like that. Although most are just about making sure you are as relaxed as possible during the birthing process, to focus on Oxytocin production.
Masterlist
Ra's and Talia had started noticing the signs before you did. The former having had nearly six millennia of medical knowledge and training, the signs that you would be going to labor soon were blaring.
Damian had dropped once more, settling low in your pelvis, rather than up near your ribs where he had been resting for the last couple months, and you had a noticeable uptake in energy. It was quite comical, to watch you running around barking orders at the random assassin who failed to evade your sights, making demands about fixing the decor, or yelling about the occasional blood splatter on the stone.
So it was no surprise that on the day Bruce arrived in Nanda Parbat, intent on being with you and Talia during the birth (much to Ra's amusement), you went into labor. It was like your body, like Damian could sense Bruce's arrival and wanted to meet his father.
He found you and Talia in one of the many fresh water springs that flowed through the temple. Your head resting on her shoulder as she gently swayed the two of you through the water, her arms wrapped around your waist keeping you upright.
"Hello Beloved," Talia greets without looking up, her gaze focused entirely on you as you both rocked slowly.
"Mmm," Releasing a sharp inhale, your eyes fluttered weakly, looking over at Bruce, "Hi,"
Bruce smiles softly, shedding his suit jacket and shoes before sinking into the water with the both of you, his fingers reaching out to gently brush the hair out of your face, "Hi sweet girl, how are you feeling?"
You hummed quietly, leaning into his touch, "Kinda fuzzy, doesn't hurt yet. Contractions are still too far apart."
"Okay. It's good that it doesn't hurt, you'll tell us if that changes right?"
"Mhm," Your eyes fluttered drowsily again, nuzzling his hand once more before leaning back into Talia once more.
You had been asleep when your water broke. The only reason you even noticed was because Talia had felt it and woke you, carrying you to the spring, so you were, rightfully, exhausted.
"Gets some rest, sweet girl, you're going to need it. We'll be right here." Bruce murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead, before his eyes flickered to Talia for a moment as he leaned down to kiss her too.
The duos relationship had been strained before that trip to Gotham to announce your pregnancy, and in the last couple months leading up to today, they had been slowly repairing said relationship. Apparently, bonding over your pregnant partner was the best medicine for an estranged relationship.
You had a feeling it was because Talia was slowly becoming less fanatic in her devotion to Ra's; and Bruce, with the help of you and his sons, were slowly breaking through his unending desire to sacrifice himself, realizing that he has family that cares for him.
You hissed as a contraction ripples through you, the water slashing slightly as you moved instinctively. Talia's hand slipping into yours as she slowly rocks you, Bruce's hands settling low on your belly, gently massaging your pelvis.
"Contractions starting up again?" Bruce asks, his fingers rubbing your hips, carefully digging in with just enough pressure to feel good without hurting.
"They are approximately ten minutes apart, beloved." Talia recounts, letting you squeeze her hand as she continues rocking you, trying to get the tension to bleed out of your body and get you to relax.
Releasing a shuddered sigh, you opened your eyes to look at them, "Mmm, I really want a cheese burger." You pause when you say that, furrowing your brow. That wasn't what you intended to say but it was the truth none the less. "I didn't mean to say that."
Bruce chuckles lightly, guiding his hands to settle lower along your abdomen over the swell of your belly, "You can have whatever you want after we're done, yeah? I'll get you as many cheese burgers as you want."
"Mmm... okay." Nodding weakly, you rested your head back against Talia's shoulder once more, peering up at him weakly.
"Does it hurt, beloved?" Talia questions, squeezing your hand lightly as she shifted her grip on you, allowing Bruce to stabilize your hips while she began massaging your shoulders.
"Not quite, it...it's more of an ache. As if my hips are ablaze and my whole body is sensitive. I can feel...every point of contact, every ripple of the water against my skin." You mutter, letting out a low hum as Talia's fingers dig into your shoulders, digging into a particularly stiff knot.
You missed the look Talia shared with Bruce over your shoulder as little noises spilled from your lips the longer her fingers dig into your shoulders. Though you felt it when Bruce's fingers continued circling as they inched down your abdomen.
"Wha-"
"Shh, don't worry about it sweet girl. We're gonna take care of you. Make you feel good, we won't let you hurt." Bruce cooed, his fingers inching down to your core, finding you swollen clit easily.
"Did you know, beloved, that in many cultures, birth is seen as one of the most pleasureable things a woman can go through." Talia recounted, holding you as you shuddered beneath Bruce's fingers. "They see it as a gift. These cultures are often inclined to encourage the female orgasm."
Inhaling sharply as another contraction ripped through you, Bruce took that as a challenge, rubbing quick determined circles along your clit. His free hand holding your hip loosely as you tremble from the mixed sensations flowing through you.
"Ly Liya, ly Faris, please," You whimpered, gripping both of them the best you could as electricity shot up your spine, and it wasn't the painful electricity you hadn't been experiencing early. A pleasureable heat pooling low in your belly as the water rippled with the roll of your hips.
"Shh, no need to beg, sweet girl. We'll give you everything you need." Bruce promised, letting his fingers speed up in junction with your noises. That pool of heat coiling tighter and tighter. Your thighs trembling as a second contraction followed the first, pulling with it the waves of pleasure that your lovers lit beneath your skin.
Your hand shot up to clutch Talia's bicep as she held you in her arms, her fingers slowly sliding down your shoulders to brush along the edges of your nipples. A whine tearing itself from your throat as the first of many orgasms ravaged your body, instinctively bearing down as your muscles tensed.
"There we go Darling," Talia coos, nuzzling her nose against your hairline, pressing a kiss along your temple. "Doesn't that feel better? Pleasure overcoming pain."
"Please..."
Talia coos again softly, tightening her arms around your torso as you writhed beneath Bruce's hands. Your head braced against her shoulder, lips trembling against her cool skin as your own seemed to grow warmer, your breath growing labored. Contractions growing closer together as the aid of orgasms pushed Damian down.
You whimpered as Bruce kissed you abruptly, "We're almost there, sweet girl. I can feel him crowning, just a little bit more."
"Listen to your body, beloved. Push only when you feel ready." Talia orders, the weight of her words rocking through you, pulling at the edges of your vows, making your shudder and nod weakly. "Good girl. So good for me, you always listen so well. Ever so obedient."
"Isn't she just?" Bruce laughs softly, pressing another kiss against your lips, shushing you quietly when you tried to follow his lips as he pulled away. "Shh, I'm right here babygirl, I'm not going anywhere."
"Ah!" A choked moan spilled from your lips as you arched against them, vision going white as another orgasm tore from your body, bring a barrage of contractions with it that had you crying out, clutching Talia tightly as you bore down.
Bruce shifted slightly, adjusting your body just enough to guide you carefully, his fingers never stopping in their mission to bring you nothing but pleasure, "I can see his head. We're so close babygirl, you're so close. Just a few more pushes."
"Please...please..." You weren't sure exactly what you were begging for. Perhaps more, perhaps to escape the burning pleasure that sank deep into your bones as your lovers gave you all their attention, perhaps to end the searing pain that hid behind pleasure and threatened to take over if their hands ever stopped. "Ngh~"
You could feel Talia's thighs pressed against yours, Bruce's knees separating your own just enough to stabilize you as you cried out, tears dripping down your cheeks, panting as you slumped against them.
Endless praises spilled from Talia's lips, her fingers running through your hair as you panted. Eyes fluttering as you leaned back into her arms, feeling her brush tears away from your cheeks.
Bruce stood across from you, water dripping down his arms as he held the baby, held Damian, alive and real, brushing water from little cheeks that squirmed and wriggled as little lungs raised and lowered weakly. His gaze locked on little eyes that flinched away from the water, fascinated and adoring, lifting only to look at you with the same proud and loving gaze.
"You did so good babygirl." The utter praise and affection in Bruce's voice as he cupped your cheek, leaning his forehead against your own, cradling you in his arms, a smile so wide you had never seen it before on his face but never wanted to see it leave. "Do you want to hold him, or just float? We'll do whatever you want."
You knew, in the back of your mind, that the moment Bruce had arrived, Ra's was likely standing outside the door, waiting for the moment to greet his heir, to greet his grandson and the new blood to the Al Ghul name. That he would be more than willing to take Damian and leave the three of you to bask in each other, but despite the exhaustion, and despite the echoes of pain that lingered in your muscles, you reached out, waving for him to hand you Damian, so you could feel his skin pressed against yours and revel in the reality that this was real, that your baby was alive and well.
word count: 1.5k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!
REQUEST: “when I read in your guidelines that you had chronic pain, I was ecstatic - that's exactly the ask I've been wanting to leave for weeks, a batboys x reader where the reader has chronic pain (I have endometriosis and fibromyalgia). Maybe how the boys take care of and accommodate reader's needs?"
CW: miscarriage, infertility, endometriosis, mention of blood (menstrual)
NOTES: march is endometriosis awareness month and as someone also in the process of being diagnosed with endo, i really wanted to take some time out of my busy uni schedule to write this one and post it this month. if you've requested something and i haven't answered to your request yet, it means i'm still in the process of writing it, i'll eventually get through my inbox haha but in the meantime i hope you enjoy this one. i mostly based the headcanons on my personal experience as well as some more commonly known facts about endo. also i'm more comfortable writing about the batboys with the reader being batmom, sorry if this wasn't exactly what was expected but i just can't see dick, jason, tim and damian as a romantic partner like they are my children frl frl. i was going with headcanons at first but then it turned too much into a story idk it's a little weirdly made but i think still nice to read?
You grew up always wanting a big family, with a few children running around your house, but your dreams were shattered when you were diagnosed with endometriosis after having a miscarriage. The screams and sobs that came out of your body when the doctor told you that carrying a pregnancy (if you were able to get pregnant at all) would be pretty risky haunted Bruce for a long time. A year later, you tried to get pregnant by IVF, but this didn’t work either and you had completely given up on the idea of pregnancy, there was only so much heartbreak you could take. When Bruce and you witnessed the death of the Flying Graysons, Bruce at first was reluctant to suggest to you the idea of adopting their son Dick. After the failed in vitro attempt and your mutual decision to stop trying to get pregnant, you hadn’t really spoken about adoption and he wasn’t sure this was something you’d be open to, so your husband was pretty surprised when you were the one to suggest to adopt Dick. As the years went by, more and more children joined the Wayne Manor and your dream of having a big family with a few children running around your house came to life.
Living with endometriosis was no easy feat. Some days you were in so much pain you couldn’t even get out of bed. You were physically and mentally exhausted for at least a week every month, and even though your job allowed you to work from home, your sixty year old male boss who had no understanding of women’s health eventually fired you. When that happened, Bruce was about ready to march into that old man’s office and get you your job back, but you decided to instead appreciate the privilege you were given by being married to a billionaire CEO and become a stay-at-home wife. Shortly after your diagnostic, Bruce started a charity to fund medical research for women’s health, particularly for conditions touching the reproductive system like endometriosis and PCOS, so once you were out of your old job, you decided that there was no better way to spend your time than by getting involved with the charity.
You were lucky to have an understanding husband who was constantly at your beck and call. Whenever your period was about to start and your endometriosis symptoms worsened, he would do simple things like drawing you a hot bath to help soothe your muscles and shorten his night patrols as Batman so he could come back to bed earlier and serve as your personal heating pad. He would rub CBD oil on your joints and your lower back to relieve some pain and it goes without saying that he tracked your periods not only to anticipate the times when he needs to be more at home than work to care for you but also when you’re more comfortable to have sex, seeing as dyspareunia (painful intercourse) was one of your most unwanted symptoms. It surprised him at first, he didn’t know this was a possible thing, but the two of you worked together to find positions that were more comfortable and less painful for you, and he didn’t take any offence if you needed to stop mid session. After all, Bruce only had your comfort at the forefront of his mind and always reassured you whenever you felt inferior for not being able to have intercourse with your husband.
Alfred read up on ways to improve life with endometriosis through your diet and made sure you never ran out of raspberry leaf tea which helped with your pelvic pain a little. He started incorporating omega-3 fatty acids in your meals and had you snacking on vegetables and trail mix in between. As the kids started appearing in your life, they each happily took the role of being your personal cuddly heating pad until they became teenagers and went through that phase where getting hugs and kisses from your mother was too cringy for them (except for Jason, the hottest furnace out of your kids and the biggest Mama’s boy). Dick, your little flexible acrobat, helped you do 30 minutes long yoga sessions every day to help reduce your pain and increase your energy levels. Tim made sure you were drinking enough water – “Well Mom, the studies say that you need to drink five tall glasses of water per day, so drink up!” – and he was always staying up to date with medical magazines and research to find new ways to improve your life.
When Bruce and Dick returned from one of their patrols with a German Shepherd dog and nobody had claimed him after an ad was put in the paper, Bruce decided to have Ace trained to help you with your anxiety and depression spells that came during your premenstrual period. The big dog was an addition to the family that you never had thought of but you were more than pleased to have him. When your husband was at work and your boys were at school, Ace would jump in your bed and lay his head on your belly or let you cuddle him for as long as you wanted, always there to soothe you and keep your belly warm.
Damian’s arrival in your life had not been easy. It opened old wounds, and for a moment there you had convinced yourself that your husband would have a moment of clarity and leave you to be with someone who could give him biological children. After talking it out through the night and Bruce reassuring you over and over again that he wasn’t going to leave you and that he was more than happy with the family you had together, he realised that maybe you hadn’t really come to terms with your fertility problems. A week later, he suggested that you see a therapist to help you with the psychological load that came with your condition and that you should also join a group for people with endometriosis who would better understand your pain and struggle. At first you were reluctant, thinking Bruce had had enough and wanted to relieve himself from the burden of supporting you, but your kids made you see that this would be beneficial for everyone, that you can never have too many support systems and the lived experiences of other people with endometriosis could also help your family find better ways to help and support you.
Once Damian warmed up to you, which took more than a few months, he was basically fighting Jason to be your personal cuddly heating pad. He loved your motherly affection and his favourite way to pass time was watching your favourite sitcom in your bed with you and Ace. One time, you unexpectedly started bleeding during the night and left a pretty big red stain on your white sheets. After making sure you were comfortable in your hot bath, Bruce gathered your bedsheets and went to bring them to the laundry room. It just so happened that Damian was getting out of his bedroom at the same time as his father and when he saw the blood on the sheets, he immediately assumed the worst and jumped on Bruce, ready to avenge you. Damian knew that you had menstruations every month, that they were the cause for your pain, but he didn’t know that they caused you to bleed this much. Thankfully, Tim, who knew you were supposed to be on your period soon, was coming up to your room to bring you your first water bottle of the day and managed to pull small Damian off of Bruce. While your third son took care of bringing the sheets to the laundry room downstairs, your husband guided Damian through your bedroom and made him stop in the doorway of the adjacent bathroom, where they could see your head poking out of the bathtub, your eyes closed as you tried to let the warm water and your favourite Leonard Cohen album soothe you. “See,” he leaned down to Damian’s height and gently told him, “Mom’s doing alright. Well, as alright as she can when she’s on her period, but she’s alive. She loses a lot of blood when she’s on her period, that’s one of the reasons why she’s so tired.”
After every laparoscopy, you'd wake up to find Bruce and your boys in your room, sat there waiting to bring you back home from the hospital. Everyone was at your beck and call, the boys mostly helped you get out of bed and walk each day to improve your blood flow. Tim was even more insisting with your water intake to prevent dehydration and everyone ate your post laparoscopy diet of plain rice and broiled chicken to avoid upsetting your stomach the first two days after the surgery so you wouldn’t feel alone in your boring diet. When you weren't out of bed doing your daily walk with one of your kids, they were all knocking at your bedroom door every fifteen minutes, making sure you were comfortable and didn’t need anything else. Bruce, who had mastered the art of bandage through his Batman activities, checked on your incision every morning and every night for any infection or if it had opened up, then cleaned it with soapy water and applied some gauze over it to prevent it rubbing against your clothes.
And every month you found yourself crying at least once, overwhelmed with how grateful you were to have a strong and loving support system helping you live with your condition.
YAN! DAMIAN WAYNE x TSUNDERE! STARK! READER (PART ONE)
(Excerpt from my private fic Sun&Moon)
TW/CW: OP! Reader, “Mary Sue!” Reader, Soft Yandere Vibes. Aged Up! Damian. Damian Wayne falls harder. The last scene is literally ripped straight out of Honkai Impact 3rd’s Meteoric Salvation cutscene with some changes. Reader is GN, but gets their hands perfectly manicured.
SPIN OFF TO THIS FIC
[ NEXT PART ]
Gotham Visions Academy.
You were practically destined to walk these halls. Born into wealth, surrounded by privilege, and backed by a network of names that opened doors before you even learned to knock. Your talents? Curated, polished, and paid for—every lesson, every skill, another line on your father’s invoice. And your intellect? At least that wasn’t bought. That, you were lucky enough to inherit. A gift among many from Daddy Dearest.
You were practically made to be fawned over. Worshipped. Adored.
And that you were.
Top of your class, heir to the Stark legacy, smarter than the ones who tried to impress you, and sharper than the ones who feared you. You walked through Gotham Visions Academy with the kind of ease that came with too many accolades and not enough real challenges.
Everyone wanted something from you—your notes, your secrets, your attention.
Everyone . . . except him.
Damian Wayne.
The only person in the school who treated you like you were just another student. Or worse—like you were beneath his time.
It was infuriating.
Which is probably why your heart started acting . . . weird whenever you saw him.
You didn’t like him. Obviously. You barely tolerated him. And today was no different.
You turned the corner toward your locker, only to find him already there, arms folded, back leaning lazily against the metal as if gravity itself catered to him. His eyes were focused somewhere in the middle distance, calculating and unreadable—like he was trying to decide whether or not to set the world on fire.
You stopped walking, your nose wrinkling.
“. . . Tch. You again?”
He didn’t even flinch.
“Still mistaking oxygen for entitlement, I see,” Damian said flatly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Must be exhausting.”
You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, the hem of your coat brushing his leg on purpose.
“Excuse me for breathing in my own hallway.”
Your own hallway you spoke. Yes. You owned the hallway. Courtesy of your father wanting you to have more privacy.
He didn’t move. Just raised a brow and continued watching you with that stupid, smug expression. The one that said he didn’t need to try to get under your skin. He already lived there.
You reached into your locker, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were suddenly a little shakier than usual. Probably from the air conditioning. Obviously. Not because he was standing close enough for you to feel the warmth of him at your back.
You refused to turn around.
“You’re always here,” you muttered. “What, are you stalking me now?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replied smoothly. “You just happen to be impossible to avoid. Like a pregnant mosquito.”
You snapped the locker door shut with unnecessary force.
“At least I don’t look like a sleep-deprived Bond villain.”
“Wouldn’t you have to know what a villain looks like?” Damian asked, voice calm. “Or are you too busy pretending your father isn’t building half of them?”
Your lips parted in offense, but you didn’t fire back right away. The air between you thinned, stretched taut with something unspoken. Something both of you refused to name.
Because you knew. Just like he did. The late-night disappearances. The bruised knuckles. The matching shadows under your eyes. You both wore the same kind of silence, wrapped in different armor.
But neither of you said a word.
Because to acknowledge it would mean crossing a line. And if you crossed it—you didn’t know if either of you would stop.
“…You’re such a jerk,” you muttered instead, turning to walk away.
“And yet,” he called after you, “you keep finding excuses to talk to me.”
You paused. Just for a second.
Then you tossed your hair over your shoulder and kept walking, cheeks burning in spite of yourself.
“I-it’s not like I care, okay?! I just didn’t want your brooding face ruining my locker’s aesthetic!”
Damian didn’t respond. But you swore—just barely—you heard the faintest sound of him exhaling through a laugh.
Not that you cared.
You absolutely didn’t.
Probably.
You were intolerable.
A parasite of privilege, feeding off your father’s name, trailing arrogance like a perfume that suffocated every room you entered.
You didn’t just hold yourself above others—you reminded them of it. Every time you laughed too loudly at someone’s mistake, every time your perfectly manicured hand fluttered dismissively toward a classmate mid-sentence. It wasn’t even direct, half the time. Just those pointed glances. The offhand remarks. The carefully veiled cruelty that only someone trained to see it would notice.
He noticed.
He saw the way you mocked people who couldn’t keep up. The way you turned charm into a weapon, laced with venom, wrapped in satin. And worst of all—you smiled while doing it. Like it meant nothing. Like the world owed you attention, and anyone who didn’t give it willingly deserved to be broken.
You were everything he’d been taught to despise. Spoiled. Sharp-tongued. Useless outside your reputation.
And yet somehow, you had the nerve to act like he was beneath you.
Every time you rolled your eyes at him in class. Every smug remark. Every insult disguised as banter.
You looked at him like he was the one wasting your time.
And he hated it.
He hated you.
Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Now, high above the docks, crouched on a corroded metal beam overlooking a shipment yard drowned in fog, he replayed the most recent encounter in his head. Your voice—cutting and too proud—echoed in his skull. Some throwaway line about him having “resting brooding face” or being a “sleep deprived Bond villain.”
He’d ignored it at the time. But it stuck anyway. Like you always did. Like a thorn he hadn’t bothered to pluck.
A gust of wind tugged at his cape, the cold stinging his cheeks beneath the cowl. His comm crackled to life just as he reached for the binoculars at his hip.
“Robin.”
Bruce’s voice—gravel and steel. Urgent.
“New intel. Bomb planted in the West End docks. Clock’s ticking—thirty minutes at most.”
Damian’s grip tightened.
“Copy that.”
He leapt from the beam, landing with a practiced thud on the rooftop below. The metal groaned beneath his boots as he moved.
Thirty minutes. Enough time if he was fast. Precise. Perfect.
He needed to focus. Forget you. Forget the way your voice made his chest tighten with something unnamable. Forget the way you watched him like you knew something about him—something he hadn’t even admitted to himself.
This wasn’t about you.
This was Gotham.
And people were going to die if he didn’t move.
Still, as the city blurred around him in streaks of smoke and steel, your voice wouldn’t shut up in his head.
Typical. Even in silence, you were loud.
The wind roared in his ears as he landed hard on the rooftop overlooking the West End loading yard. From up here, the city was a mess of metal veins and dim orange haze. Below, shipping containers were scattered like broken teeth, and in the center of it all—there it was. The bomb.
Sleek. Pale. Otherworldly.
Like something pulled from a dream that had never been meant to exist.
Even from this distance, Damian could feel it humming.
“I have eyes on the device.” His voice was clipped as he tapped the comm.
“It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. This isn’t WayneTech. Not even League tech.”
A pause. Then Batman’s voice, heavy and grim.
“It’s Aetherial Arbor energy. Prototype. Stolen off-world. That thing goes off, it takes half the district with it.”
Damian narrowed his eyes.
“How do I disarm it?”
Another silence. Then—
“You don’t.”
“Your suit can’t handle the radiation field. No one’s can. Not unless it was designed by Stark.”
He clenched his jaw.
Of course.
“Then tell him to get down here.”
But Bruce didn’t answer.
Instead, someone else landed in the clearing below him—loud, intentional. Not a graceful drop from the shadows, but a debut. A gleaming figure in white and rose-gold armor, light glinting off polished plating as they rose from a crouch and faced the bomb.
Damian’s blood went cold.
“. . .No,” he whispered.
Because it was you.
The headpiece slid back, revealing a familiar smirk—tight with fear, but cocky enough to mask it. Your white suit hugged close to your frame, the glow of the chest reactor casting its light across your features. Your hair fluttered behind you in the breeze like you’d been pulled straight out of some myth.
But it wasn’t the suit that stunned him.
It was the expression.
You looked . . . calm. Like you were finally exactly where you were meant to be.
“Don’t worry, Gotham,” you said aloud, voice broadcast through the suit’s external mic. “Daddy’s not coming tonight. But his favorite heir is.”
Damian’s heart kicked in his chest.
The others on the comm were stunned into silence. Even Batman.
You stepped forward, scanning the device. Your voice dropped in pitch, switching to private comms.
“Bomb’s already too unstable. I can’t shut it down from here. Gonna have to fly it out. Somewhere empty. Somewhere safe.”
“No,” Bruce’s voice snapped. “Negative. You’re not authorized—”
“Respectfully?” you cut in, already lifting the bomb with magnetic tethers. “Too bad.”
You blasted upward in a sharp burst of light, rocketing into the sky with the pulsing heart of catastrophe cradled in your arms. The feedback nearly blew out Damian’s earpiece, but he didn’t care.
He was already running.
He leapt from the rooftop, following the streak of white and gold through the clouds, heart slamming against his ribs.
“Don’t be stupid,” he hissed into the comm. “This isn’t about theatrics. Drop it and disengage.”
Your voice came through, soft. Distant. But raw.
“ . . . If I let it fall, someone else picks up the pieces. I’m tired of pieces.”
You were crying, maybe. Or smiling. He couldn’t tell. There was static now.
“I want to make something beautiful out of this world, Damian. Even if I only get to do it once.”
Honestly whatever you want , but also how did their relationship develop? Or how bout instead of her having Damian, what about after Damian and Bruce and just her having another kid w her beloved? Up to you honestly! Some smut would be nice if you want to tho.
Beloved, My Beloved
── ⋆⋅*⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅*⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅*⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Talia Al Ghul x Pregnant!Reader x Bruce Wayne
Summary | Pregnancy hormones are awful to deal with on their own. Sometimes, you need more help than you can get by yourself. (Or, Talia finally tells Bruce he has a son and what happens after.)
Words | 4k
tags | Biting kink, praise kink, pregnancy kink, use of "beloved" "my darling" "my liya (my night)" "sweet thing" "good girl", oral sex (fem receiving), threesome (FFM), p in v.
Notes | I kinda wish Talia had at least told Bruce he had a son, even if he wasn't allowed to see him. Or, if she didn't tell him Damian was his, she could have mentioned she had a child. It would have made it much easier for Talia to hide Damian in the event of an uprising if Bruce had an idea he existed in any way shape or form. Because he absolutely would have been ready to take care of Talia's child if she needed to hide it. Regardless of it if was his or not.
Note 2. I might turn this into a mini series because I absolutely want to explore how Talia and the Reader met, why Talia picked her to surrogate, and how the dynamic changes with Damian being 2% the reader. Especially because we know Talia's weakness has and always will be family. So expanding that to a wife who is fanatically loyal to her, I have a feeling she would do anything for her to make her happy.
Note 3. Art by Francis Manapul, I found on Pinterest.
Kinktober Day 23: Biting & Praise kink
Masterlist kinktober2025 previous next
"Beloved, why do you cry so? What can I do to make it better?" Talia asked, worry lacing her words as she brushed your hair out of your face with one hand, the other rubbing your belly softly.
Shaking your head, you sniffled quietly, burying your face in the pillows. You couldn't understand why you were so upset. Before this, you had been having a fantastic day. Talia had taken you on a stroll through the eastern garden, the guard had watched you while she was busy meeting with someone, leaving you to swim. But sometime between you swimming and her returning to fetch you, you hadn't been able to stop crying.
The maids had taken the time to bathe and dress you, though your hair still spilled out over the pillows in a wet mess of curls. Not that it mattered when your own tears were probably contributing to more wetness to your pillows.
"Beloved, my darling, please. What can I do? What will it take to dry those tears?" She pleaded, feeling her own frustration rising. Not with you, but with herself for not knowing what to do to soothe you. Her mind flickered momentarily to Bruce, and how he would know how to soothe you, or at the very least, come up with a plan to calm you. "Is that it? Do you wish to see my darling Bruce? To be within his arms and let him comfort you?"
"My Liya," You sob, looking up at her, nuzzling into her hand as she brushes more hair out of your face, "I don't know. I feel so very strange. My heart aches for someone I have never met. Yearns for a voice I have never heard. And you are here, with me. And I fear it is not enough."
Talia's gaze softens, tilting her head slightly as she observes you, taking in your genuine distress, "What can I do? Would seeing him make you feel better? Would meeting him quell your tears? Because I can arrange that. I can summon him here, or take you to see him. I'm sure... I'm sure my father would understand."
"Can we?" Your voice is quiet and fearful that she might take the offer away. Or that it wasn't worth the effort to interrupt Ra's. That perhaps your comfort wasn't as paramount to her as you believed it to be.
She nods, reaching for a rope nearby, "If that is what you wish, then we shall try. The worst that could happen is he say no. But at least we would have tried."
Sniffling softly, you nod, wiping your tears on the pillow once more, and push to sit up, letting her pull you into her arms once the bell has been rung. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you buried your face in her shoulder, leaning your weight into her as she rubbed your back softly.
"Hush, my darling. Everything will be alright soon enough." She coos, nuzzling your hair lightly.
A soft knock echoed on the door before it opened and a maid stepped inside, lingering by the door, "Alert my father, tell him we wish to speak with him as soon as possible." The maid nodded, dipping her head before scurrying out of the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.
"Hah-aw," You muffle a yawn in the side of her neck, your eyes heavy now that you were no longer sobbing. The rubbing on your back lulling you into a sleepy state.
"Sleep, beloved. I will have your answer in the morning." She murmurs, gently lying you back amongst the pillows once more, taking care to arrange them in a supportive manner around you. Humming quietly, you nodded, letting your eyes close as you curled up, allowing her to pull a blanket atop you, falling asleep as the door clicked shut behind her.
******************
"Come along, beloved." Talia purred, gently pulling your hand as she guided you through the halls.
"You are certain he said it was alright for us to leave?" You question, though you don't pull away from her, obediently following her to the courtyard.
"Yes, beloved. I have cleared it with my father. He knows where we are going, to whom we are meeting with, how long we intend to be there." She says, stopping for a moment to pull you into her arms, looking down at you, "You have nothing to worry about, beloved. I will let nothing happen to you. Least of all my father. Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you. I will always trust you. You above all." You answer, reaching up to cup the side of her face, leaning into her touch.
She smirks, running her tongue over her teeth for a moment, "Good girl. Now, come along. We are only allowed to be away from the temple for 48 hours. 32 of which will be spent on the plane."
Nodding, you followed behind her, allowing her to lead you into the courtyard, ignoring the guards as you passed on the way to the plane. She nodded to the guard as you stepped onto the plane, and you watched them return the nod before making their way inside, likely to tell Ra's you had departed and your time begun.
"Sit, beloved." She knelt down beside you as you sat, carefully testing each and every strap and buckle as she took the time to fasten you into your seat, ensuring nothing would happen to you in the event of a potential crash. "I suppose that will have to do."
She sank into the seat beside you, fastening her own seat belts before taking your hand in hers, bringing your joined hands to her lips, "In a few short hours, we shall land in Gotham, and you will finally meet our Beloved. And he will love you as I do. On that I swear."
"I believe you." You return, squeezing her hand lightly. Resting your head on the headrest, you closed your eyes, listening to her hum softly.
‐--------------‐-----------------
"Beloved, my darling, wake up. We have arrived." Talia coos, running her fingers through your hair as you stir, nuzzling into her hand. "Don't you want to greet our Beloved?"
Nodding sleepily, you let her pull you to your feet, leaning heavily into her as she wraps a large winter coat around you, her fingers moving over the fastenings, "Is this really necessary? It's summer."
Her lips quirk up, nodding lightly, "Our Beloved has warned that one of his rogues, a Mr Freeze, has been particularly rampant and difficult to catch as of late. Most of Gotham is under complete snow fall and I would not risk you catching a cold while out of the Temple."
"Why do I have a feeling this, Mr Freeze, will end up collected and dealt with before we leave?" You ask rhetorically, making her smirk, her eyes gleaming with murderous intent. Shaking your head with smile, you tucked close to her side, laying your head on her shoulder as her arms tightened around your waist.
"Let's go meet our Beloved, my darling." She responds, guiding you off the plane towards a car waiting for you on the street below. An older man standing beside it with an unreadable expression. Talia's expression closed off and guarded, "Alfred."
"Miss Talia, and guest." He greets, opening the car door without further word. Her grip on you tightens as she aids you into the car, sliding in behind you despite the expectation for her to enter through the other door. "The Master saw fit to meet you both at the Manor as you shall be safest there. Shall I expect to find guards stationed?"
"Yes, though we only intend to stay the night. We shall be gone post breakfast." She answers, her voice tight. You could sense some tension there, though there was also an underlying trust between the two of them. After all, Alfred's purpose was to protect Bruce and the Wayne Family, and Talia's own interest lied in protecting you and her family, which included Bruce.
Your palm sliding into hers, linking your fingers together as you laid your head on her shoulder, squeezing softly. Her gaze softened slightly as she turned to bury her face in your hair, though her gaze remained fixed on Alfred throughout the remainder of the drive to the manor.
The ride was silent but not necessarily uncomfortably so. There was no words that needed said between the three of you. Alfred had nothing to say to either of you, nor you to him. It was obvious he wasn't thrilled to have Talia in Gotham, or more importantly, anywhere near the manor. Nor was Talia thrilled that Alfred was sent to pick the two of you up, instead of Bruce coming himself.
Arriving at the manor took longer than expected, though the fact that you managed to stay awake that long was perhaps more shocking. Talia slid out of the car the moment it stopped, helping you out, careful to mind your belly without giving away your secret.
"The Master is expecting you in the sitting room. Shall I guide you there?" It wasn't a request. It was a thinly veiled threat, almost begging you to give him a reason to be weary of you.
Talia nodded once, her arms tight around you, eyes sweeping over the scenery with every step until they locked on Bruce, standing beside the fireplace.
"You may go Alfred."
"Very well sir. As you wish." Alfred bowed his head, stepping out of the room and closing the French doors behind him, giving the three of you privacy.
"Talia," Bruce greeted, his eyes flickering to you for a moment before looking back at her.
"Beloved." She responded in equal measure, refusing to betray the slight nerves settling in her bones.
His eyes flickered to you once more, sweeping over your figure as he set his glass on the mantle, stepping away from the fireplace, "Why are you here? Who is she?"
"My wife." Talia's grip tightened, shifting to almost push you behind her, something Bruce immediately noticed.
"I won't hurt her. Not unless she attacks me first." Bruce regarded, stepping closer, tilting his head as he observed the dynamic between you. "Though i have a feeling that wont happen. What are you hiding from me, Talia?"
She let out a sigh, nuzzling her nose against your neck lightly, "My beloved, our beloved, carries a surprise. One of which, I would have preferred to keep hidden, but she insisted."
"Enough mind games. Answer me." Bruce demanded, pushing into your personal space, easily within grabbing distance.
You glanced at Talia, almost seeking her permission, and when she nodded, you let her help you out of your coat, dropping it on the back of one of the couches. Catching the sharp inhale of breath Bruce took the moment he spotted you belly.
Damian had finally dropped since your last spout in the courtyard gardens, and you finally looked as pregnant as you were. Something Talia was immensely proud of. You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind, piecing together who you were, and why you were here from the slivers of information he had.
"That is impossible." He snaps, glaring at Talia, making her push you farther behind you.
"Not entirely." She responds, unwaveringly, "I have had access to your DNA on more than one occasion and we both you intercourse is not required for life."
"So it's mine. You're not even going to attempt to pretend it isnt."
They way Bruce said it, as if the baby growing inside you, as if Damian was a nothing more than a thing, an object, brought tears to your eyes. Despite your best attempts to quell them, they festered a whine in your throat. Because, to your nonsensical, hormone ravaged, pregnancy brain, that he was saying he didn't want to have a claim to the baby. That he did want you.
The second the first noise left your throat, and tears began to spill, Talia's gaze immediately softened, shushing you gently and pulling you back into her arms, "Shh, shh, beloved. Dry your tears."
Bruce looked conflicted for a moment, mentally waring with himself on what to do. He was still angry with Talia, rightfully so, but he couldnt deny that he still held a shadow of affection for her, and a sense of responsibility for you. He let out a sigh before stepping closer to you, crouching down beside Talia, reaching for your hand, "Oh, sweet thing, do not cry for me. I am not worth your tears."
Tears streamed down your face as they both attempted to console you. The two of them guiding you to the couch so you didn't collapse as you sobbed. Talia settling in behind you and Bruce sank to his knees in front of you.
"Oh, sweet thing, there is no need for tears. What can I do?" Bruce soothed, reaching up to caress your face with one hand, letting you cling to his other one. "You've come all this way. Just to meet me. To show me. To tell me your secret. And I push you away. I'm so sorry, sweet thing. How very rude of me."
You sniffled, nuzzling into his hand weakly as Talia gently rubbed your belly, her hands roaming over the stretched expanse, pressing her chest against your back, "Breathe beloved. There's no need for tears. Our beloved is right here. He's on his knees for you." She purrs, her lips brushing the side of your jaw as she peppered kisses along the expanse of your neck. "He looks so wonderful when he's on his knees, doesn't he?"
Your tears slowly started to dry up as you nodded, leaning back into her grasp, looking down at Bruce as he wipes your tears, "You like me on my knees, don't you sweetheart? Pretty thing like you, no wonder Talia snatched you up when she had the chance. I mean, just look at that pretty belly of yours."
If you had known that Talia's beloved Bruce had a pregnancy kink, you would have asked to see him sooner. Though you had a feeling that had you asked to visit him sooner, Ra's and subsequently Talia, would not have allowed it.
You sniffled quietly, nuzzling into his hand, closing your eyes for a moment to take in that you were here, that Bruce was here, consoling you. Opening them to look down at Bruce when Damian saw fit to kick him in the chest, the angle just right for it to connect through the skin, letting him feel the tiny strength, the way Damian practically yelled at Bruce to console you properly and get his head out of his ass.
Bruce's eyes snapped to your belly, feeling the kick, a look you couldn't describe sliding over his face as he seemed to take in that you were really pregnant. This wasn't simply a ploy sent by Ra's to throw him off his game. No, you were real, sitting here in front of him, really truly pregnant, and carrying his baby.
"Oh, sweet thing, I can only imagine how difficult this has been. But you've done so well. Taking such good care of our baby, letting them grow strong." Bruce praises, and you can feel Talia shiver against your back, her arms tightening, Bruce's gaze catching the shiver with a small smirk.
"He," Talia cuts in, trying to distract from her shiver. "Damian. His name is to be Damian."
"He," Bruce nods, letting his hand fall from your face to stroke your belly, "You've been so perfect, letting out little prince grow strong. He's not even born and I can tell he'll give everyone a headache."
A cat-like keen escapes your throat as his hands ran over your stomach. Talia threading her finger with yours, holding your arms back as Bruce's smirk widens.
"Do you like that, sweetheart? Letting Talia and I take care of you? I bet you want for nothing. Everyone always at your beck and call, ready to please you. I bet Talia pleases you often." He purrs, his hands moving lower, running over you waist and hips.
"Quite often. Our darling is quite voracious with her wants." Talia comments, nipping at your neck lightly, letting you feel her teeth against your skin.
Bruce laughs, "Of course she is. Sweet thing like her? Deserves to stuffed nice and full all the time. There's no reason for thoughts in that pretty little head. That what we're for."
Needy whines spilled from your lips, attempting to roll your hips as Bruce gripped them tight, "She is such a greedy thing, isn't she, beloved? Nothing keeps her satisfied long." Talia teases, pulling you hands behind your back to hold them together in one hand between you, her other hand coming up to gently hold your throat, tipping your head back against her shoulder.
"I'm sure we can rectify that." Bruce announces, his hands running over your thighs now.
Talia continues drawing kisses and love bites across your neck with a wicked grin, watching you attempt to roll your hips against Bruce as he slowly takes time to unwrap you, pulling away your pallu like it was wrapping paper and you were a gift.
"Sweetheart, you are a gift." Bruce's words made you realize you had said the last part out loud, making him smile lightly. His gaze flickering to Talia for a moment before he leaned forward, one hand sliding under your chin to pull you closer, drawing you into a kiss.
A pleasant noise echoed through the room and you couldn't tell who made it, too focused on the way Bruce's body felt against yours. Unable to touch him and uncaring, as long as he remained pressed up against you.
"Now will you let me open my gift?" Bruce purrs, his smirk widening when you nodded vehemently, "Good girl, now lift your hips."
Talia aided you in lifting your hips, allowing Bruce to pull your petticoat off, leaving you in only your bodice and panties, leaning back against Talia's chest as her hands roamed your body.
Sweet little noises spilled out of you as Bruce pressed kisses along the insides of your thighs, trailing them from your knee to the edge of your panties, refusing to give in to where you needed him most. His hands shifting to press your legs open, letting him settle between them.
"Such a pretty girl, can't believe you came all this way just to meet me." Bruce praises, his teeth scrapping against your inner thigh, his mouth stilling when you let out a shaky moan, "Oh, sweetheart, did you like that? Do you want me to take a bite?"
You howl when he bites down on your thigh, soothing the bite with his tongue, repeating the motion a few more times, leaving a mosaic of little red bite marks all over your thighs, "I see you've found her soft spot. Our Beloved sure does enjoy being marked up." Talia commends, tilting your head back more, allowing her to cover you with her own love bites and she unlaces your bodice, pulling the fabric down to tie your hands together.
"Fuck, so fucking pretty." Bruce groans, lifting his head away from your thighs for a moment to trail kisses over your chest, stabilizing his hands on your belly, rubbing it softly.
"Please," They both shushed you when you pleaded for something, though you weren't entirely sure what you were pleading for. Talia's hand sliding up to cover your eyes, simply resting your head on her shoulder.
"Don't think, just feel." Talia orders, with that tone that demands obedience, and it's like a switch. Your mind shutting off, leaving you to only feel, making her grin, "Good girl, always so obedient for me. You honor your vows well."
Your vows were simple; both your vows to the League and your vows to her. They both played on your obedience and loyalty. Of course, your vows to her outweighed your vows to the League, something you were certain Ra's had not accounted for when he agreed to let you marry his daughter. Her orders would always outweigh his to you.
"Relax, just feel." She coos, feeling your hips jolt when Bruce settles between them once more.
Weak breathy sounds filling the air as Bruce finally approached where you needed him, running his tongue along the gusset of your panties, his fingers hooking in the waistband, pulling them down.
"Come now Beloved, it isn't fair to leave only her exposed." Talia taunts, reminding you that both Bruce and her were fully dressed.
Bruce huffs a laugh, but you can hear the rustling of fabric as he begins to strip, and you wish, for a moment, that you could see it, though you knew better than to disobey Talia, "Is that better, beloved." The way Bruce says beloved is taunting, not quite making a mockery of the word, but definitely making fun of her constant use of the term.
"Quite."
Whimpers follow as you stiffen slightly, feeling Bruce run the head of his cock through your folds. Your body relaxing as Talia runs her hands over your skin, the two of them so close, taking care of you so well, that it makes your skin buzz with satisfaction.
A symphony of sounds echo as Bruce pushes in, gripping your hips tightly as he begins to rock his hips with shallow thrusts, "Don't hold back, beloved. You won't hurt her. She's more than capable of taking more than that." Talia mutters, her eyes fixed on the two of you.
He glances at her for a moment, judging the validity of her words, paired with the needy whines leaving you and nods, his grip tightening as he forgoes giving you time to adjust to instead set a blinding pace that has you crying out.
"Ah-ngh!" Your hands gripped Talia's pallu in an attempt to cling to something. Arching against her as electrical pulse shot through you, heat building beneath your skin like fire in your veins. Each of Bruce's thrust brushing against that warm gummy spot that had you seeing stars.
A loud keen ripped out of you as he shifts his hips just right to hammer your cervix. Every brush against it sending another way of pleasure through you that only added to the pressure building in your belly. Your body trembling beneath their hands as the spring coiled tighter and tighter, bringing you to the edge.
Talia's free hand slipping between you to rub circles against your clit, "Cum for us, beloved." She whispers against your ear, holding you as you fell apart between them.
White spots flooded your vision as you cried out, the sound becoming muffled by Bruce's mouth as he kissed you, swallowing the sound. Your body seizing and trembling in their arms as your lungs burned.
"Breathe, sweet thing," Bruce cooed, letting you go with one final peck of your lips, happily accepting you when Talia gently pushed you into his arms, sliding out from behind you.
Bruce wrapped his arms around you, remaining inside you as he tucked your head into his chest. Both of you watching as Talia stepped away for a moment, dripping a handkerchief in to the vase of water nearby, filling a glass as well before returning to your side. Offering the glass to Bruce to aid you in drinking as she carefully cleaned you up. Tossing the soiled fabric away, she sat beside you, leaning into your side, thoroughly sandwiching you between them.
"Rest now, beloved. We still have many more hours to remain before we must leave." Talia murmured, running her fingers through your hair. While you slept, she and Bruce would need to talk.
platonic batfam x neglected! (gender neutral; not specified) reader
warning: i know nothing about college applications or how college even works (junior), possibly OOC, i probably made a promise about adding something and forgot to add it so sorry!!!
.ᐟ — you, (name) (last name) Wayne are the most average person.
wordcount: 3,551
a.n. /// this is ending one, a more realistic approach to how an actual person would react to the neglect... sorry it took so long, school has been kicking my ass (2-3 months in btw)... PSAT, drivers permit, marching band, chem, math, the list goes on...
part 1 . . . part 2 . . .
You had a nice day out— especially after a group of exams. The study was rigorous; by the end, you wanted nothing more than just to put yourself in a coffin. Instead, you decided to go out with friends on a cold night in Boston. To a cafe, a catch-up night.
You'd turned your phone off, wanting to enjoy the moment rather than being distracted by notifications.
With friends, you took a circular table near the window seat, facing the street. You were having fun, listening to stories your friends were telling. From sibling fights to silly, petty dramas between family members.
You wish you had a story to tell about family.
"Order for…" the barista looks at the large order of goods, "(Name) (last name)?"
"Oh," You slowly start to get up, "I'll get them!" beginning to walk towards the counter. You needed a slight moment ot just… get away. Just a few minutes.
(Truth is, it hurts to talk about family. (Name) (last name) Wayne is insanely jealous when it comes to family.)
Picking up the tray, you start to walk back to your group, while admiring the decoration of the cafe. It was cute, a cozy feeling. Indoor plants in some corners, large sofas surrounding a coffee table, and people enjoying small talk or working.
Eyes glance over to a corner of the place: people picking out books to read, Cassandra waiting at a table, commissioned paintings on the walls—
You stop, almost spilling everything on the tray. You look over your shoulder again. Cassandra. Cassandra Cain, sort-of-maybe-daughter to Bruce Wayne. Your mouth gapes open slightly.
What the hell is she doing here?!
Before Cassandra even gazes upon you, you turn around and flee to your friends.
"What took you so long?" One of them giggled, saying a quick 'Thank you, (naaaame)!' before taking their coffee. The others chide in with agreements, slipping money to you in exchange for their coffees.
You awkwardly laugh, "Oh, didn't want to spill anything!" You grab your drink, putting it against your lips and taking a big gulp.
"You've never told us about your family, y'know?" One of the boys says. A girl nudges him, "What?! I'm right!"
She tuts, before looking at you with soft eyes, "We don't mean to intrude, if you don't want to tell us, it's fine! We're just a bit curious, is all!" She moves in closer to the table, whispering: "Since you're… Like, Wayne's kid…"
You put the drink down, chuckling a little, "I mean, I'm cool with tell you guys."
(No, the hell I'm not. You think in exasperation, Why the hell did I say that?)
"So there's Alfred, the butler of practically the entire house, and like a grandpa to me." You earn a bit of 'aw's from your friends, "He makes arugably the best food, and spoiled me with it!"
"There's Duke—"
"New adoptee, right?"
You shake your head, "Nah, just temporarily at the manor for a while. Fostering, type thing." The others nod.
"Anyways, Duke is pretty awesome. A year younger. He's pretty funny and fun to hang around; good at puzzles and stuff. I think you guys would get along with him really well." You pause. How would you address the others?
"Um, Dick… he's there! Nice, takes people places, you know the whole 'I love family!' thing.
Tim is pretty busy, being CEO or whatever he is for W.E., kinda addicted to staying awake.
Damian is a bit of a menace, but he's alright for a rude kid. He likes animals and art. I think.
Cassandra does dance, ballet. I've seen her a few times; she's really good at it."
You ignore the feeling that someone is staring at you, focusing on your friends.
You get to your dorm quite late. You were lucky enough not to have a roommate, rather getting one of those single-person dorms.
After closing the door behind you and slipping off your shoes, you fall onto your bed. You rummage in your jacket pockets before taking out your phone. You turn it on.
Notifications start to pour in from Instagram, TikTok, emails, messages, and everywhere.
You press on the emails. Eyes scanning over the names. You pause at two of the emails, both coming around the same time.
Your heart stutters at the sender.
Dick motherfucking Grayson and Jason motherfucking Todd.
I saw you on Boston University's Instagram account! I tried contacting you, but your old number wasn't letting me through. Why didn't you tell me about your number changing? Anyways, congrats! We should celebrate together, you know, hang out! Let me know~
From,
Richard Wayne
Was wondering where you're at. We haven't seen each other in a long time. Wanna know what's going on in your life, catch-up, y'know? You probably look so grown-up now.
Jason T.
What the hell. How did they remember this email? Did they even know this email?
You sit up, switching from one email to the other. The words are blurring and turning into one. You swipe out of the app and close your phone.
Sleep. Sleep will fix this. The phone is thrown across the room, and the blanket is pulled over outside clothing.
The next morning— luckily a weekend— you wake up slowly, the first rays of the sun filter through the window.
Your half-asleep mind first reminds you of being outside with your friends yesterday, the coffee, the talks. You smile softly as you groggily look at the clothes you slept in.
Then, the emails are reminded next. Your mood sours.
How Jason and Dick emailed you like they've never left contact with you, how they want to "hang out" seemingly forgetting the lost promises of "I'll go with you somewhere, next time, okay?"
(Every time someone would say that, you would know in your heart that they would forget. Mainly Dick. Especially Dick. He had the Bruce, Tim, and the Titans, and any other thing he's in. They would always be more important than you.
Jason forgot about you after he came back. The few times he was in the manor, he didn't even try to do something with you. Hell, he wouldn't even come to greet you. It was as if the only reason he came to the manor was to make Bruce's life hell, and yours too. You missed the old Jason.)
You stumble over to where your phone is. It lay near the closet door, its screen illuminating new messages. After all, you have a life outside of the Wayne family. And probably the only life, since you weren't truly a Wayne; it was just by name.
God, were you always this depressive?
You shake your head, crouching down to your phone. You hesitantly pick it up, face ID recognizing you and opening it up.
"I need to text Duke about this…," you mutter, still crouched. You quickly swipe into your messages to see multiple numbers trying to get you to respond to them. And two of them were ones you didn't want to see.
Your father — Bruce Wayne, and Tim Drake. How they even knew your new number was beyond you.
(You always kept their numbers saved, because maybe they would reach out. You didn't want that anymore.)
Bruce Wayne: Hey, kiddo, heard you got into Boston University. Congrats. Why didn't you tell me?
sent 4:30 am
Tim Drake: Hey, (name), haven't seen you in a while, what's the happs?
sent 4:56 am
Your heart drops further when you see Duke's recent texts.
Duke: Hello, this is Damian. I wanted to say congrats on your new educational pursuit. Father must be very proud.
sent yesterday, 10:09 pm
Duke: I would like to apologize for my past actions. It was not fair what I had done to you. It may not seem much, after all, you've been having to deal with my behaviours for the past few years. I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you.
sent yesterday 10:11 pm | deleted for Duke Thomas
Groaning, you start to text Duke back.
You: Duke, wtf.
Duke: ?
You: why the hell is everyone texting me all of a sudden?
Duke: idk, dick asked for your number on the family gc but i gave them the email u dont use
You: So, i didn't want you to give them ANYTHING about me. But whatever. Tell Damian i forgive him or whatever
Duke: oops, sorry… mkay, any reason to tell him orrrrrrrrrrrrrr
You: well, he is younger… an assassin child at that. I accept his apology cause it looks like he actually means it. he's a baby with no sense of direction, at the end of the day.
You: Also if you meet with the others, tell them to leave me alone. they can talk to me when i come over for vacations, which i doubt ill even come.
Duke: r u sure…? you've been wanting to reconnect with them for a while…
You: that was in the past, ive moved on and don't want them holding me back emotionally anymore.
Duke: okay, sorry about that…
You: its fine.
Fingers press on Alfred's contact. You start a call.
"Mx. (Name)?"
"Alfred."
"Mx. (Name) has informed me that they are not interested in talking with you at the moment." Alfred starts, "They believe they would benefit from focusing on their studies as of right now, rather than on other issues."
Bruce's eyes focus onto Alfred's face in the dark of the Batcave. "What?"
Alfred looks at him with a face Bruce can't quite place, "Mx. (Name) wants to focus on what they are doing, and reccomend that you do the same. They will talk to you when they are ready. Please relay this message to the others, is also what they said."
Calloused hanfs drop away from the keyboard, "Why would they say that?" he murmurs, "I'd thought… they would want to reconcile after so many years…"
"They do not wish to." Alfred starts to walk away, "Safe patrol, Master Bruce."
The Wayne takes out his phone and presses on your contact.
Bruce Wayne: Is there a specific reason as to why you do not wish to talk to me?
message not received
Bruce Wayne: (Name)?
message not received
Five— six children, and he couldn't manage to have a good relationship with any of them. A failure of a father, really.
A gasp echoes through the living area. Heads snap towards the voice, ready to jump into action for whatever happened.
"(Name) blocked me on Gmail!" Dick stares at his phone with wide eyes, "I didn't even know that was possible!"
Everyone sighs, not expecting such a trivial matter.
"They blocked me on messages and Gmail. I don't know how they found my stalker account on TikTok and Insta, but they blocked me on that too." Tim mutters, eyes already slinking back to the laptop in front of him.
Steph sits up from the couch, raising her right hand, "Oh, Oh! I saw them in Boston a few days ago!" Cass nods.
"They were with friends at a cafe." She pauses, "I was gonna say hi to them, but Cass said no."
"We do not know them well enough to interfere talking between their friends."
Dick sits up straighter, "You should've told me! I would've come so fast…" he whines, his gaze still on your contact information. "I'll just text them on—"
"They've probably already blocked you." Tim remarks, "I'm pretty sure they've blocked all of us on any accounts and numbers."
"You never know!" Dick insists instead, furiously typing on his phone. A few minutes later and his posture deflates. "You're right. They blocked me on social media too…"
"I think…" Three sets of eyes go to Cassandra, "We should take the hint and leave them alone. It is clear that is what they want."
Dick shakes his head, "They're our sibling, we have to connect with them," he claims.
Cass frowns, "We should not go past their boundaries if that is what they want. We must respect them."
The older man gets up, his eyes furrowed as though he was going to say something. His face in a scowl. Ultimately, Dick leaves it at that, muttering a 'whatever' before leaving the room. Tim watches from the corner of his eye as the oldest leaves.
"I do not believe I said anything wrong," Cass says with confusion, "No?"
Tim disagrees, "No. You didn't. Dick is just a bit… nosy."
'And I am too.'
(In the end, after a long day of contemplating, Dick doesn't try to contact you again. You'll come around when you want to, even Dick hopes that you'll do it now.)
Was wondering where you're at. We haven't seen each other in a long time. Wanna know what's going on in your life, catch-up, y'know? You probably look so grown-up now.
I saw you got into BU, congrats. At least someone in this family will be a college graduate, haha.
Jason T.
Jason sits in his dingy apartment, a blanket over his lap as he reads a book. Every so often, his eyes would wander over to his phone, sitting in front of him on the coffee table, screen up. His hopes are high for a notification from you.
He keeps reading. Jason's mind takes the words on the pages, no processing what the words are saying. He rereads that page. He still doesn't understand, so he rereads a second time—
Ding! Jason reaches for the phone with speed, unlocking it with face ID. A smile playing on his face.
Please just leave me alone. I do not want to talk to you. Take the hint!
Jason's heart drops at the email; any sense of good mood leaves him. He was hoping— he thought you would want to reconnect. The two of you used to be so… close-knit together.
(Jason remembers attending your extracurriculars, remembers you saying good-bye to him before patrol, and remembers the way you tried to mediate between him and the others.
Eyes that held innocence, and hands that felt soft as a pillow.
That's the past, and Jason can't do anything to go back.)
He puts his phone down and goes back to reading. If you don't want to, that's fine. Jason will not force you to be siblings— friends again.
(He ends up patrolling his area. Fighting crime till his heart raced and his hands sweat under the gloves. Jason will get over your rejection, he will. He's rejected you, so it's his turn to be rejected.)
"(Name) says they forgive you," Duke says out of the blue one day, sitting at the counter with cereal in his hand.
Damian blinks. Far too early in the morning for his brain to be functioning, "Excuse me?"
Duke chuckles, restating himself, "(Name) says they forgive you."
The younger boy lets the words process in his head before a small smile plays at his lips, and his posture straightens up, "Really?" he whispers silently. As if afraid that someone might see this soft moment.
"Yep," Duke pops, "They said they'll be glad to talk to you about stuff. I'll send their number to you, ya?"
Damian nods, "Yes, I would appreciate that…"
Duke finishes his cereal before reaching out his hand to tousle the boy, "You did the right think," he starts as he puts the bowl into the sink, "They've been wanting to connect with you for a long time now."
"I am glad that they are willing to give me a chance at redemption."
Duke smiles at him, glancing at the clock, "Better get going now, Signal doesn't wait for anything!"
"Good patrol, Thomas."
(The first time Damain texts you, he feels his giddy feeling in the chest. As if something were roaming around in his ribcage, tickling him.
You reply kindly, asking how his day has been going and how school is.
He responds with the same amount of enthusiasm a child his age should have.
Damain apologizes again, and you accept the apology again.
Now, every time the two of you text, his mood lightens up. Posture is getting lazy rather than the strict-straight back he learned to have. Damian appreciates your presence. He adores your presence.)
You came for Christmas break, rather than staying in the dormitory. Your friends had asked you to come, but you didn't want to intrude on family time.
The visit was… awkward to say the least. There were the 'hello's and the 'how are you doing's. Unlike when you lived in the manor, however, everyone seemed very into your business.
"How's college going?" Bruce asks one day during breakfast, or atleast breakfast time for the manor.
You glance at him from your phone, "Good."
"Any classes you like?"
"Um… foundations of education is going good, I guess."
Bruce hums, "Mind telling me what that's about?"
You check the clock, "I gotta go, I promised Damian something."
(You used to be so young, following Bruce around. The man recalls. From his office to the Batcave. What he wouldn't do for you to do that now.)
"Do you want to join me in the Batcave?" Tim mumbles in your general area.
You squint at him, "Huh?"
He takes in a deep breath, "Do you want to join me in the Batcave? I have some questions."
The phone slips from your hand and onto your lap, "Uh, the Batcave is lowkey cold, so…"
"There's a heater there."
You stare at him, "Alright, sure, I guess." You shrug, getting up from the couch in the living room.
He ends up going to patrol just a few minutes later, leaving you in the Batcave.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't think I had patrol today—"
You wave it off, simply lying: "It's cool, I guess. I have something to do anyway." You did not have anything to do.
(Tim leaves the Batcave, guilty as ever. He doesn't want to do what he did in the past. He really doesn't, but duty calls. He hopes you will forgive him like you used to when you were younger.)
Dick waltzes into your room, "Want to go to the Zoo?"
You sit up on your bed, "Not particularly, no."
His smile falters a bit, "Come on! Sibling bonding time!"
"I'm a bit busy with catch-up work right now… sorry."
"You can do that later, can't you?"
You shake your head, "I want to get it done with fast."
(Dick remembers how you used to bug him to teach you gymnastics. But it feels like he's the one doing the bugging, now. How the tables have turned...)
"Jason?" You say with confusion, trying to focus on the figure in the dark.
The lights flick on in the kitchen, Red Hood standing at the counter with a box in hand, "Yeah, that's me."
"Oh, okay, cool." You start to walk away before a forced cough calls you.
Jason clears his throat, "I made you cookies," he gestures at a big box sitting in front of him, "The ones you like."
You raise both eyebrows, "Thanks."
"Yeah."
A silence falls between the two of you, eyes wandering around the kitchen. Jason starts, "I guess I should be going."
"Yeah."
(As Jason leaves, he takes a glance back at you. You always loved these types of cookies--- straight up loaded with sugar. You would also share them with him. Will you share these?)
"What're you drawing this time?" You ask with your mouth full of cookies.
Damain scratches furiously in his sketchpad, "Nothing."
You roll your eyes, reaching across the table to pick up his pad right out of his hands. "Hey!" he yells.
There, on the white sheet, lay a picture of… you. Smooth and rigid lines mix to create your facial features, and harsher pencil density to outline. You can't help but laugh, "Damian! This is so cute!"
His face turns a bright red, "Give that back, this instant, or Alfred shall be informed about this… bullying."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you're talented." You wink, "Also, give me the paper when you're done. I have to show my friends the talent my sibling holds, no?"
"How's the break going for you?" Duke asks, lying on your room's floor.
You sigh, turning around on your chair to face him, "It's awkward."
"Everyone's all of a sudden really interested in what I do and stuff. It's annoying. Besides Damian."
Duke shrugs, "It's to be expected."
"Nuh-uh, it feels weird."
"They're trying to build something with you."
"Well, I want to focus on myself right now."
Alfred sets a plate in front of you, "I believe this break is treating you well?"
"Thanks, Alfie!" you take a bite of the food, "And I guess."
He raises an eyebrow.
"It's just awkward. I'm in the spotlight after so long."
"I believe that it's for the best."
"I don't like it."
"You must give them a chance."
You huff, "I will after I'm settled."
You made a goal. Graduate, become a teacher, live in an apartment and have fun teaching.
And it is what you will do. Any other issues will have to wait. You were your main priority.
You understand that they're trying to fix the past, but they don't seem to understand that it will take time. Time that you don't have. Time that is going towards your occupation.
So when you're done, you will also try. But they have to try in the meantime. After all, you've been trying your whole life.
It's their turn. You're no longer the child who followed for praise and recognition.
Summary: Mrs. Wayne offers to babysit her friend’s baby for the weekend, and the whole family falls in love with her.
Tags/Warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship (married), baby fever bruce, suggestive at the end, slight angst (implication of infertility), not proofread at all
W/C: 1.1k (something short and sweet)
Notes: make bruce a girl dad dc also consider this my thank you post for 100 followers!
“Why is she looking at me like that?”
“She’s intrigued by you, Damian. It’s not every day she sees a grumpy 12-year-old.”
You watch Damian stare down a bubbly and slightly slobbery baby as if she’s personally offended him.
When he squints his eyes at her, almost like a challenge, all she does is laugh and clap her messy hands. She squeals and reaches out for Damian, but he moves back as if she can reach him.
You laugh at the exchange, “Damian, calm down. She won’t hurt you, she barely knows her own name.”
He huffs out a sigh, and sinks into his seat. A slight embarrassment-induced blush appears on his face.
You reach out and tuck her few wisps of hair behind her ear, “Oh, don’t pay him any mind. He’s like his father, grumpy, but he cares.”
She smiles which showcases her two top teeth, and you smile back at her. You kiss all over her face, and she begins to squeal.
“What’s a baby doing here?”
“When were you pregnant?”
“You got pregnant with his kid, willingly?”
“When was she pregnant in the past nine months? Dumbass”
You roll your eyes and turn around to see the boys entering the room in their own special way.
“For the record, it’s not my baby.” You state that as you take her out of her high chair, her legs kick in the air.
She sticks her hand in her mouth as her eyes widen at the sight of new people. She begins huffing in excitement.
You take her hands in yours and make her wave at them.
Dick immediately pulls a chair up next to you and fawns over her. He speaks in a soft tone, “Hi, what’s your name? You’re so adorable!”
A wide smile forms on your face, “Her name is Liliana, she’s 9 months old, and I’m babysitting her while her parents go to Greece for their anniversary.”
You pick her up and place her close to your face, “And Dick is right, you are so adorable!”
Jason stands behind Dick and speaks in a questioning tone, “Why are you babysitting her?” He catches his tone, “Sorry, no offense.”
You breathe out a laugh and adjust Liliana so she’s sitting on your lap, “It’s okay, Jay. I just thought it would be fun! She could brighten up the place!”
She giggles at that and reaches one hand out for Jason. He kneels and takes her hand, and gently shakes it.
He speaks uncharacteristically softly, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
You smile fondly at that and look towards Tim, “Do you have anything to say to her?”
Tim jokingly rolls his eyes and scoots close to her, “My name’s Tim, and I’m better than the other ones.”
Damian throws a napkin at his head at that, and Tim snaps his head towards him. But before the boys can begin arguing, Bruce walks into the kitchen.
The boys slump in their seats, and you excitedly turn towards him with her in your lap. You hold up her arms, “Look at her!”
A faint smile appears on his face as he gently brushes his pointer finger on her cheek. She smiles widely and grips his finger with her tiny hand.
The boys stare in confusion at the sudden softness of his actions.
He gently asks, “You’re strong, aren’t you?”
She laughs and flaps her hand that isn’t holding Bruce’s finger. He smiles softly at her and moves to pull a seat next to you (attempting to not let go of her finger).
He looks up to you, “Did you kidnap her?”
You laugh earnestly at his dry humor, “No, Valerie’s going to Greece for her 10 year anniversary and I offered to babysit this little one!”
Bruce nods and reluctantly removes his finger from her hand. He drapes his arm behind your chair to pull the two of you closer.
Jason stares at her, “She is really cute, I’ll admit.”
They all silently admire her until Tim asks, “Okay not being weird, ‘cause this isn’t weird, but like… Did you guys ever want a kid of your own?”
Dick laughs, “I think they have enough of us.”
Tim rolls his eyes and Jason gently elbows him.
You laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Your smile drifts slightly, “Well, I mean. Dick’s right, we have you guys!”
Bruce gazes at you tenderly and he moves his hand to rest on your shoulder. You continue speaking, a solemn tone overtaking your previous happy tone.
“We tried, but y’know, life just happens. Sometimes…things just don’t go as planned.”
You take a deep breath and hold on to Liliana’s hands. She looks up at you, inquisitively.
You shrug your shoulders and look towards Bruce who gently squeezes your shoulder. You smile, attempting to brighten the mood, “But, it’s okay! I have you guys, and I’m glad I don’t have to change dirty diapers.”
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿.
After nearly half an hour of back-and-forth, you reluctantly agree to let the boys watch Liliana while you take a shower.
When you finish, you slowly walk down the stairs to what sounds like an episode of Bluey.
A smile forms on your face when you get down to the family room entrance and see the boys attempting to make Liliana smile.
She sits on the sofa with Jason, keeping a protective hand on her back. Dick sits in front of her, playing peekaboo, while Tim sits next to him, recording the whole ordeal.
Damian, despite his protests, sits next to her on the couch and helps to find a show that she’ll love.
He flips through shows and gauges her reaction to certain characters. He finally decides on Little Bear based on the sound of her squeals.
While you watch them, Bruce comes up behind you and wraps his arm around you. You tilt your head so he can peck the side of your neck.
You melt into him, “You think you’d be good with a baby?”
He hums, “Maybe, I know you would be.”
You smile, “You would be good also, I saw the way you were looking at her. Maybe Bruce Wayne was destined to be a girl dad.”
He breathes out a laugh, “You wanna put that to the test?”
You bite the inside of your lip as your face flushes at his words.
You turn to him and stare into his eyes, “Do you want to put that to the test?”
He smiles and picks you up bridal style, and your laughing is heard from all the way down the hall.
Hiii can I request a Jason x reader where the reader faints at a party or one of Bruce’s galas and everyone is freaking out but it just turns out she’s pregnant? 🩷🩷🩷 thank youuuu
The Gala Incident
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requests are open
dividers by @cafekitsune
You've been to enough Wayne Galas to know the rhythm of them. Arrive fashionably late (Jason's preference, not yours), endure exactly forty-five minutes of small talk with Gotham's elite (your limit, not his), find Bruce to make an appearance (mandatory), and then hide in a corner with appetizers until it's socially acceptable to leave.
Tonight is not going according to plan.
For one thing, the smell of the hors d'oeuvres is making your stomach turn. For another, the room feels approximately eight thousand degrees despite the October chill outside. And for a third, you've had to excuse yourself to the bathroom twice in the last hour.
"You okay?" Jason murmurs in your ear, his hand warm on the small of your back. He looks unfairly good in his suit, tailored perfectly, making him look less like a crime lord and more like he actually belongs among Gotham's wealthy elite.
"Fine," you say, which is a lie. You've been feeling off for days. tired, nauseous, emotional over the strangest things. Yesterday, you cried because Jason came home with the wrong brand of coffee creamer.
"You've been saying that all week," he says, eyes narrowing. "And you barely touched dinner."
"The salmon was too..." You stop, swallowing hard as another wave of nausea hits. "It smelled weird."
"It smelled like salmon."
"Exactly. Weird."
Jason looks like he wants to argue, but Dick appears at his elbow with two champagne flutes. "There you are! I've been looking for you guys. Bruce wants a family photo and... hey, you look pale."
"I'm fine," you insist, taking the champagne glass on autopilot. The smell hits you immediately.. sharp, acidic, wrong. Your stomach revolts.
"Whoa, hey." Jason takes the glass from your hand before you drop it. "Maybe we should get you some air."
"I'm fine." But even as you say it, the room starts to tilt. The chandelier above you seems too bright, the conversation around you too loud. Your vision goes spotty at the edges.
"Babe?" Jason's voice sounds far away. "Babe, look at me."
You try. You really do. But the floor is rushing up to meet you, and then everything goes black.
You wake up to chaos.
"—call Dr. Thompkins—"
"—is she breathing—"
"—someone get Bruce—"
"—EVERYONE SHUT UP!"
That last one is Jason, his voice sharp with panic. You're on the floor, you realize, your head in someone's lap. Jason's lap, based on the expensive suit fabric under your cheek.
"Hey," he says, and his voice is gentler now, shaking. "Hey, there you are. Stay with me, okay? Don't close your eyes."
"M'okay," you mumble, trying to sit up. Bad idea. Your head spins and your stomach lurches.
"Don't move." Jason's hand is in your hair, keeping you still. "Someone's getting a doctor."
You force your eyes open properly and immediately wish you hadn't. You're surrounded by concerned faces, Dick hovering anxiously, Tim on his phone, probably calling every medical professional in Gotham, Damian looking uncharacteristically worried, and Bruce pushing through the crowd with Dr. Leslie Thompkins in tow.
"I fainted," you say unnecessarily. "At a Wayne Gala. That's so embarrassing."
"That's what you're worried about?" Jason's hand is shaking in your hair. "You just collapsed. You could have hit your head, you could have—"
"But I didn't." You reach up to touch his face, trying to reassure him. He looks terrified, all the color drained from his face. "Jason, I'm okay. I just... I've been feeling a little off lately."
"Define 'off,'" Dr. Thompkins says, kneeling beside you with her medical bag. She's been the Wayne family doctor for decades, has patched up more vigilante injuries than she probably cares to count. "Any pain? Dizziness? Nausea?"
"All of the above?" you admit. "And I've been really tired. And emotional. I cried at a cat food commercial yesterday."
"The one with the kitten?" Dick asks. "That one is pretty sad."
"It was about senior cats finding homes," you say. "I sobbed for twenty minutes."
Jason is staring at you like you've grown a second head. "You didn't tell me any of this."
"I thought I was just stressed." You let Dr. Thompkins check your pulse, your blood pressure, shine a light in your eyes. "Work's been busy, and you've been dealing with that thing in Crime Alley—"
"I don't care about Crime Alley right now. I care about you." He says it fiercely, and you can see the fear underneath the anger. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"
"Because you worry," you say softly. "You worry so much already."
"Of course I worry. You're—" He stops, jaw clenching. "You're everything."
Dr. Thompkins is watching you both with an expression you can't quite read. "When was your last period?" she asks casually.
You blink. "What?"
"Your last menstrual period. When was it?"
"I—" You try to think back. "I don't know. A few weeks ago? Maybe... six weeks?"
The room goes very quiet.
"Oh my god," Dick says.
"Holy shit," Tim adds.
Damian just stares.
Jason has gone completely still, his hand frozen in your hair. "Six weeks."
"Maybe seven?" You're trying to do math in your head, but everything feels fuzzy. "I haven't really been tracking it. I'm usually pretty irregular when I'm stressed, and—" You stop, the implications finally catching up to you. "Oh."
"Oh," Dr. Thompkins agrees, a small smile playing at her lips. "Combined with the fatigue, nausea, emotional sensitivity, and fainting spell... I think we should run a test."
"A test," you repeat stupidly.
"A pregnancy test," she clarifies, and the word seems to echo in the sudden silence.
Pregnant.
You might be pregnant.
You and Jason might be having a baby.
"I need—" You try to sit up again, and this time Jason helps you, his movements careful and mechanical. "I need to take a test."
"I have one in my bag," Dr. Thompkins says. "Always prepared for situations like this. Bruce, is there somewhere private?"
"My study," Bruce says immediately. He's been quiet this whole time, watching with that unreadable expression he gets. "Third floor, first door on the left."
Jason helps you stand, his arm around your waist like he's afraid you'll collapse again. Maybe you will. Your legs feel like jelly and your mind is racing.
Pregnant. You might be pregnant with Jason Todd's baby.
The walk to Bruce's study is a blur. Dr. Thompkins walks ahead, Dick and Tim trailing behind like anxious ducks, Damian muttering something about "another Todd" that you don't have the energy to process.
Jason hasn't said a word.
In the study, Dr. Thompkins hands you a small box. "Bathroom's through there," she says, pointing to a door you hadn't noticed. "Take your time."
You look at Jason. He's staring at the box in your hands like it might explode.
"Come with me?" you ask quietly.
He nods, still not speaking, and follows you into the bathroom.
It's awkward, taking a pregnancy test in Bruce Wayne's private bathroom while your boyfriend watches. You follow the instructions with shaking hands, set the test on the counter, and then you both stare at it.
"Three minutes," you say, reading the box. "We have to wait three minutes."
Jason makes a sound that might be acknowledgment.
"Are you—" You turn to look at him. "Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" He laughs, but it sounds slightly hysterical. "I don't know. Are you okay?"
"I don't know either." You lean back against the counter. "This wasn't... we weren't planning this."
"No." He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the careful styling. "We weren't."
"If it's positive—" You stop, not sure how to finish that sentence.
"If it's positive," Jason says slowly, "then we're having a baby."
"Yeah."
"A whole baby. A tiny person."
"That's typically how it works."
He's quiet for a moment, then: "Are you scared?"
"Terrified," you admit. "Are you?"
"Fucking petrified." He moves closer, taking your hands. "I died once. Came back wrong. Spent years being angry and violent and doing things I'm not proud of. I'm not exactly father material."
"Jason—"
"But if you are pregnant," he continues, his grip tightening on your hands, "if we're really doing this, then I'm in. Completely in. Because you're not doing this alone, and this kid, our kid, they're going to know they're wanted. They're going to know they're loved."
Your eyes are burning. "You really mean that?"
"I've never meant anything more." He pulls you closer, pressing his forehead to yours. "I'm scared as hell, but I'm also... if you are pregnant, I'm happy. Is that crazy?"
"No." You're crying now, tears streaming down your face. "I'm happy too. Scared, but happy."
"We should probably check the test," Jason says, but neither of you moves.
"Probably."
"I'm terrified of looking."
"Me too."
You stand there for another moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing in sync. Then, at the same time, you both turn to look at the test on the counter.
Two lines.
Very clearly, unmistakably, two pink lines.
"Oh my god," you whisper.
"Oh my god," Jason repeats.
"We're having a baby."
"We're having a baby." He says it like he's testing out the words, seeing how they fit. Then, louder, with a growing smile: "We're having a baby!"
He picks you up, spinning you around, and you're both laughing and crying at the same time. When he sets you down, he kisses you, deep and thorough and full of promise.
"I love you," he says against your lips. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." You cup his face, memorizing this moment. "We're really doing this?"
"We're really doing this." He grins, and it's that rare, genuine smile that makes your heart skip. "Holy shit, we're having a baby."
There's a knock on the bathroom door. "Everything okay in there?" Dr. Thompkins calls.
You open the door to find the entire family crowded in the study: Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, and even Alfred, who must have been summoned at some point.
"Well?" Dick asks, practically bouncing with anticipation.
Jason wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "We're pregnant," he announces, and his voice cracks on the words.
The room erupts.
Dick literally screams, launching himself at Jason for a hug that nearly knocks you both over. Tim is grinning so wide it must hurt. Damian looks torn between horror and something that might be excitement. Bruce... Bruce is smiling, a real, genuine smile that makes him look years younger.
"Congratulations," he says, pulling you both into a hug. "I'm so happy for you."
"I'm going to be an uncle!" Dick is still screaming. "I'm going to be the best uncle! Tim, we're going to be uncles!"
"I'm already planning the nursery security system," Tim says seriously. "And a background check protocol for potential babysitters."
"The child will need proper training from an early age," Damian adds. "I suppose I can make time in my schedule to ensure they're not completely incompetent."
"That's very generous of you, demon spawn," Jason says dryly, but he's smiling.
Alfred appears with a tray of tea and water. "Congratulations are in order," he says warmly. "Though I must insist you sit down, miss. You've had quite a shock."
You let Jason guide you to the couch, suddenly aware of how shaky your legs still are. He sits beside you, his hand never leaving yours.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks quietly while the others chatter excitedly around you. "Do you need anything? Water? Food? A hospital?"
"I'm okay." You squeeze his hand. "Better than okay. I'm pregnant."
"You're pregnant," he repeats, like he still can't quite believe it. His hand moves to your stomach, resting there gently. "There's a baby in there. Our baby."
"About the size of a lentil right now, if I'm doing the math right."
"A lentil," he says, wonderstruck. "That's so small."
"They'll get bigger."
"Yeah." His thumb strokes your stomach through the fabric of your dress. "They will."
Dr. Thompkins appears with some pamphlets. "I'll want to see you in my office next week for a proper examination and blood work. In the meantime, start taking prenatal vitamins, get plenty of rest, and call me if you have any concerns. No alcohol, no caffeine—"
"That explains why the coffee tasted wrong," you murmur.
"—and take it easy. Fainting can be normal in the first trimester, but I want to keep an eye on you." She smiles. "Congratulations to you both."
"Thank you," Jason says, still staring at your stomach like he can see through to the tiny cluster of cells that's apparently making you both parents.
The rest of the evening is a blur. You never make it back to the gala, Bruce makes excuses for you, and nobody questions it. Instead, you stay in the study, surrounded by the family, drinking tea and fielding a million questions and listening to Dick and Tim argue about godfather rights.
"I'm the oldest," Dick insists. "I have seniority."
"I'm the smartest," Tim counters. "I can teach them practical skills."
"I am the only one with the discipline to raise a child properly," Damian adds.
"Nobody's raising this child except us," Jason says, but he's smiling. "But if we're talking godparents..." He looks at Dick. "You're loud, irresponsible, and you let Damian use your car as target practice last month."
"That was ONE time!"
"You're in," Jason finishes, and Dick practically tackles him with another hug.
"What about me?" Tim asks.
"You once stayed awake for seventy-two hours straight working on a case. You're not allowed to babysit until you learn what sleep is." Jason pauses. "But yeah, you're in too."
"I suppose I can serve as well," Damian says with an air of great sacrifice. "Though I expect the child to address me with appropriate respect."
"They're going to call you Uncle Dami and you're going to deal with it," Jason says.
For once, Damian doesn't argue.
Bruce appears at Jason's shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Jason tenses slightly, but nods. They step away, speaking in low voices near the window. You can't hear what they're saying, but you watch Jason's shoulders gradually relax, watch something soft cross his face. When Bruce pulls him into a hug, Jason hugs back.
When they return, Jason's eyes are suspiciously bright.
"You okay?" you ask.
"Yeah." He sits beside you, pulling you close. "Bruce just... he said he's proud of me. Said I'm going to be a good father."
Your heart clenches. "You are. You're going to be an amazing father."
"I'm going to try." He kisses your temple. "I'm going to try so hard."
"I know you will."
It's past midnight when Alfred finally insists you both go home and rest. Jason doesn't want to leave, convinced you might faint again, or something worse might happen, but Dr. Thompkins assures him you're stable and just need sleep.
The ride home is quiet. Jason drives with one hand on the wheel and one hand on your thigh, like he needs the physical contact to believe this is real.
"We're having a baby," you say into the silence.
"We are," he agrees.
"We're going to need a bigger apartment."
"We'll find one."
"And a crib. And diapers. Oh god, so many diapers."
"We'll figure it out."
"What if I'm a terrible mother?"
Jason pulls over, right there in the middle of the street, and turns to look at you. "You're going to be an incredible mother. You're kind, patient, smart, and you put up with me on a daily basis. That alone proves you can handle anything."
"What if you're a terrible father?"
"Then you'll tell me, and I'll do better." He takes your hand. "We're going to make mistakes. Probably a lot of them. But we're going to love this kid with everything we have, and we're going to figure it out together. Okay?"
"Okay." You bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. "Together."
"Together."
When you get home, Jason immediately starts googling everything about pregnancy. What to expect, what foods to avoid, what vitamins you need, symptoms to watch for. He makes a list of baby books to order, creates a spreadsheet of potential names (which you'll probably never use, but it's adorable that he's trying), and sets reminders to make sure you take your prenatal vitamins.
"Jason," you say finally, watching him from the bed where you've collapsed in exhaustion. "Come here."
He looks up from his laptop. "I'm almost done. I just need to finish reading about first trimester development—"
"Jason. Come here."
He sets the laptop aside and climbs into bed with you. You curl into his side, his arm coming around you automatically.
"We have nine months to figure all this out," you remind him. "Tonight, let's just... be happy."
"I am happy." His hand finds your stomach again, resting there like it belongs. "I'm so happy I don't know what to do with it."
"Kiss me," you suggest. "That's a good start."
So he does. He kisses you soft and slow and sweet, and when he pulls back, he's smiling.
"I love you," he says. "Both of you."
"We love you too."
You fall asleep like that, Jason's hand on your stomach, his voice soft in your ear as he talks to the baby that's barely bigger than a lentil. He tells them about the family they're going to have, the uncle who will spoil them rotten, the grandfather who will teach them everything he knows, the butler who will sneak them cookies.
He tells them about their mother, about how strong and beautiful and perfect she is.
And he promises them, voice thick with emotion, that they will always be safe. Always be loved. Always be wanted.
It's the best promise you've ever heard him make.
Bonus : Seven Months Later
"I can't believe you're making me go to another Wayne Gala," you groan, trying to find a comfortable position. At seven months pregnant, comfortable is a relative term.
"It's the last one before the baby comes," Jason says, helping you with your shoes because you can't reach your feet anymore. "Bruce promised it would be quick."
"Bruce's definition of quick and mine are very different."
"We'll stay for an hour. Two tops." He stands, offering his hand to help you up. "Besides, everyone wants to see you. Dick's been asking about the baby every single day."
"Dick's been shopping for baby clothes every single day," you correct. "We have more clothes than the baby could wear in a year."
"That's what I told him." Jason's hand goes to your stomach, something he does constantly now. The baby kicks in response, and his face lights up like it does every single time. "Hey there, little one. You ready for your first gala?"
"They better not decide to make an appearance tonight," you mutter. "I did not spend an hour on my hair just to go into labor."
"If you go into labor, your hair will be the least of our concerns."
The gala is exactly as tedious as you remember, except now you have a convenient excuse to sit down. Jason doesn't leave your side, bringing you water and snacks and glaring at anyone who gets too close.
"You're being overprotective," you tell him.
"You fainted at the last gala we attended," he reminds you. "I'm allowed to be cautious."
"That was seven months ago!"
"And I'm never going to forget the feeling of catching you as you collapsed." He squeezes your hand. "So yeah, I'm being overprotective. Deal with it."
Dick appears with a wrapped present. "I know we're supposed to wait for the baby shower, but I couldn't help myself."
"Dick, you just bought them a bouncer yesterday," you say.
"This is different! This is special!" He's practically vibrating with excitement. "Open it!"
It's a tiny leather jacket, replica of the one Jason wears as Red Hood.
"Absolutely not," Jason says immediately.
"It's adorable!" you counter, holding it up. "Look at the little zippers!"
"Our child is not wearing a Red Hood jacket."
"Our child is going to look amazing in a Red Hood jacket."
You're still arguing about it when Bruce finds you, a rare smile on his face. "How are you feeling?"
"Large," you say honestly. "Very, very large."
"You look beautiful," he says, and it's so sincere that you want to cry. Pregnancy hormones are no joke. "Jason's been telling me about the nursery. Sounds like you've got everything ready."
"As ready as we can be." Jason's hand is on your stomach again. "Though I keep thinking of things we forgot. What if we need—"
"You'll be fine," Bruce interrupts gently. "You're going to be wonderful parents. Both of you."
Later, after you've made your rounds and satisfied everyone's need to touch your stomach (why do people think that's okay?), you and Jason escape to the balcony for some air.
"Seven months ago, I fainted right over there," you say, pointing to the ballroom. "And now look at us."
"Now we're about to be parents." Jason wraps his arms around you from behind, his hands cradling your stomach. "Best fainting spell ever."
"I don't recommend it as a pregnancy announcement method."
"No, probably not." He kisses your neck. "But I wouldn't change a thing."
The baby kicks hard, and you both feel it. Jason laughs, the sound full of joy and wonder.
"I can't wait to meet them," he says.
"Two more months."
"Two more months," he agrees. "And then everything changes."
"Everything already changed," you say, turning in his arms to kiss him. "The moment we saw those two pink lines."
"Yeah," he says softly. "It really did."
And as you stand there on the balcony of Wayne Manor, seven months pregnant with Jason Todd's baby, surrounded by a family that loves you both, you can't help but think that fainting at a gala was the best thing that ever happened to you.
Well. Second best.
The best is sleeping in Jason's arms every night and kicking your ribs every day.
