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alienguts · 1 month

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To a Man's Heart (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce keeps forgetting to eat.

Warnings: None unless food counts

Request?: No

A/N: It turns out that I don't like to describe people eating.

Y/N and Bruce had been together for so long that they knew each other inside and out. Every little habit and quirk was accounted for and as soon as something was off, they knew something was wrong.

But there was one thing that Y/N just could not fully understand: how it was possible for Bruce, one of the most ripped and athletic men she’d ever met, to go without food for so long. She’d known guys who played sports in high school who never stopped eating, but there were times when she’d seen Bruce eat three bites of a sandwich in an entire day before heading out on patrol.

It was roughly 8pm when Y/N descended the steps into the Cave, her slippered feet softly clanking against the steel. Bruce had told her earlier that day that he wasn’t planning to go out on patrol and had sent the boys instead, but she still didn’t expect to find him at the computer in deep concentration. She almost hoped that he wouldn’t notice her almost creeping up behind him, but of course nothing got past Bruce, even without all of his detective equipment.

“What’re you doing down here?” he asked as he turned around in his chair to see her.

“Just checking up on you,” she said as she made her way across to him. “I know you’re usually quiet but I never heard from you all night.”

He smiled warmly and held his arms out to her so she could climb into his lap. “Sorry, I’ve just been so engrossed in this case I forgot to go back upstairs.”

Y/N let herself be pulled into his warm chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder, not realising how much she’d missed his touch after not seeing him all day. He wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her arms and shoulders. She felt like she was just about to drift off to sleep when a low growling sound snapped her out of her daze.

Not again.

“Bruce, when was the last time you ate something?” she asked as she pulled herself up to look at him.

“What?” Bruce asked, as if it was a ridiculous thing for her to ask him.

“When was the last time you ate something?” she asked again, slower.

He was quiet for a second, the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to remember. “Maybe around noon? I’ve spent more time working than thinking about food, Y/N.”

Y/N let go of him and stood up before grabbing his hands and tugging on them. “C’mon, we’re gonna get you something to eat,” she said. She could feel him trying to resist, but he knew better than to try to stop her from getting him to take care of him.

Bruce let her pull him to his feet, his joints stretching out from sitting down for so long, and followed her back up the stairs to the Manor. The warmth of the study hit both as soon as the hidden door slid open and light from the sun filtered into the doorway. Even though it was only 8 ‘o clock, it was still light out and birds were singing outside.

After spending all day underground in the Cave, Bruce welcomed the quiet of the Manor and could feel himself relaxing with each step they both took through the study. The hum of electronics slowly faded out of earshot as they made their way out of the study and towards the kitchen, their footsteps echoing around them.

Once they’d reached the kitchen, Y/N guided Bruce to sit at the table before going to the fridge and opening it.

“What’re you in the mood for?” she asked as she studied the fridge’s contents.

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he said and got up to stand behind her. “You know I’m not picky.”

“Bruce, I already had dinner.”

The fridge was relatively bare, considering that it was the day before she and Alfred did the grocery shopping and they had a full house of vigilantes to feed. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on an almost empty pack of bacon, along with some leftover lettuce and tomatoes.

“I could make you a BLT,” she offered, looking over her shoulder at Bruce.

He leaned down to softly kiss the top of her head. “BLT sounds wonderful,” he said.

Even though she usually insisted that Bruce not help her in the kitchen, Y/N let him slice the tomatoes and lettuce for her while she cooked the bacon. She knew Alfred wouldn’t be happy if there was a small kitchen fire and she wasn’t willing to take the chance. Thankfully, he’d managed to do it without cutting himself or making too much of a mess.

Clearly some of his swordsmanship translates to the kitchen, Y/N thought as she assembled the sandwich and plated up. They sat side-by-side at the table, and as soon as Y/N gave Bruce his plate, he took one half of the sandwich and handed the other half to her.

“No, Bruce, it’s yours,” she said as she tried to push his hand away.

“You should eat something too,” he said before taking a bite of his half.

“I already ate, you have it.”

He shrugged and continued to eat, almost wolfing the sandwich down. Obviously he was hungrier than he’d thought before.

“Is it okay?” Y/N asked. “I know I’m not as good a cook as Alfred is.”

“It’s delicious,” Bruce said, giving her a warm smile. “You are a good cook, miles better than I could ever be.”

“It’s just a sandwich Bruce,” she said bashfully, “how hard can it be to get right?”

“Trust me, I would know,” he said through his last bite. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s kind of my job to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Well, I’d say you’re doing a great job,” Bruce said as he stood up to put his plate in the sink. “What would I do without you?”

“Same as you did before, leave whatever Alfred makes you go cold.”

Bruce laughed and came back to the table to gather Y/N in his arms.

“See, this is why I married you,” he said as he gently pulled her to stand. “You make me food, and you make me laugh.”

Y/N returned his hug and buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent and letting him take over her senses.

“You’ve been sitting at that computer all day,” she said when she lifted her head up. “You needed a break.”

He hummed in agreement. “I think I’m gonna call it a day,” he said. “This case isn’t that urgent and the boys are dealing with patrol.”

“Does that mean you’ll come watch a movie with me?” Y/N asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Bruce smiled and leaned down to gently kiss her forehead. “Yes it does,” he said. “Just don’t be surprised if I fall asleep on you.”

Y/N let go of him and took his hand again to lead him to the living room. “I don’t mind if you fall asleep, at least I get to spend some time with you.”

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #batman x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom #batmom!reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #dc x you #dc x reader #x reader #self ship #female reader #*my writing

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

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Through the Fire

Jason Todd x batmom!reader

Jason’s death broke you almost beyond repair, sending you into a dark pit that you struggled to claw yourself from. But what about your baby boy? What about what happened to him? And could you ever save him like you should have done years ago?

Warnings: ANGST, lots about Jason’s death, kidnapping, Jason needs a hug, references to Damian’s conception, I repeat shit tons of angst, reader wants to die for a while, swearing, descriptions of scars, insults thrown at reader, references to murder

WC: 1.7k

A/N: I realise I took this in a different direction than what the request actually was but I hope you still like it!

Minors DNI

You didn’t think being a mother was ever in your life plan, it wasn’t like you didn’t want children, you just never expected it to happen. Then, a little bird named Dick trotted into your life, bringing along with him a man who you knew was your soulmate. And a few years later, things got even better.

A boy, barely 11 years-old, tried to steal the tires off of the bat-mobile. And less than 24 hours later, he became a Wayne. Life was good, for a while. You did your best to provide your boys with as normal a life as possible given the circumstances and they seemed to flourish. That is until Jason was a month shy of his 14th birthday.

You remember that night in vivid detail like a horrible nightmare you couldn’t escape. Bruce had been silent on the coms after the explosion making a deep sense of unease settle in your gut. You remember little Jason’s bright yellow cape saturated with red, the fabric wrapped tightly around your son’s body, shielding you from the horror.

Bruce made eye-contact with you and you knew, you knew your little jay-bird had been ripped from you before his life could even really begin. The scream that echoed through the cave as you fell to your knees still haunts Alfred and Bruce to this day. The utter despair and rage of a mother who lost their baby rattling their bones.

For a long time, you blamed Bruce. Once Jason had been buried beneath his favourite tree on the grounds, you stopped speaking to your husband. You moved to the other side of the manor, refusing to eat or even sleep. You wanted so badly to be with your boy again and you wished every day that you had been the one who died, not him.

The appearance of Tim saved you. That smart little boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer wormed his way into your heart. He helped gather the pieces of your heart and stick them back together, even if there were a few shards that lay with your Jason.

Bruce welcomed you home with open arms and you both were finally able to grieve together. You became a united front once more, able to face any situation with the knowledge that you weren’t alone.

But nothing could have prepared you for this.

With a pained groan, your mind emerged from the darkness of unconsciousness. Your eyelids felt heavier than normal as you struggled to open them but eventually, you were successful. As far as you could tell from the dim light streaming through the windows, you were in an abandoned apartment. It stank of stale urine and cigarettes.

You huffed and glanced down to find that you had been tied to an old dining chair. Your gaze lifted to the door which was only a few feet in front of you. If you could bounce on the seat with enough force, you might be able to shatter the old wood and make a run for it.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” The deep voice that spoke from the darkness further into the apartment startled you but you regained your composure quickly, after all this wasn’t your first rodeo.

“What do you want? Money? Leverage?” The man chuckled and you saw the shadow of his figure move. From what you could tell, he was huge.

“No, we just need to have a little conversation without Mr Wayne meddling.” Your stomach dropped. Who the fuck was this guy? But before you could retort, he stepped from the shadows.

The red of his helmet was what struck you first. The metal was smooth save for the white slits for his eyes, even to you who had faced the Joker head on, it was incredibly intimidating. Then emerged the maroon bat on his chest so like the symbol your husband sported. Then the two guns strapped to his thighs.

Anger rushed through your veins before you could stop it. “Red Hood.” You spat.

“Very good!” He replied sarcastically. “I’m glad I made an impression.” He walked casually over to you, his goliath body towering over you. The old floorboards creaked under his weight as he moved with the grace of a man who had spent his whole life being a soldier.

Your face remained stern as he approached, not showing even a lick of emotion. Your husband’s words echoed through your mind. “Do not show your fear, give them nothing.”

“You’ve already killed more than 20 people in Gotham, I don’t think that’s a great impression to give.”

“20 people that you know of.” He snarked, a thick Gothomite accent slipping through his carefully crafted facade. “It isn’t like your beloved husband is doing much to clean up the streets.”

He walked casually behind where you were bound and tugged on your restraints. You flinched as the rope dug into your plush stomach. “I mean he couldn’t even kill the son of a bitch that murdered your precious ‘baby bird’.” He hissed, voice full of raw hatred.

Ice ran through your veins. You couldn’t answer him, too shocked that he knew of Bruce’s double life. “I mean what kind of a man replaces his son less than a year after he was beaten to death with a crowbar! And you know what makes it even worse?” His face was now right beside yours, his mask pressed against your ear as he whispered his next words. “You let him.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about!” You crumbled, you couldn’t help it. The pain of Jason’s death was all-too-present in your lives. “I died the same day he did.”

“And yet you’re still breathing.” He moved away, turning his back to you. “And I know why, it’s because you weren’t really his mother. You just took him in as a little pet project because you were a bored housewife with no one to nag since your Brucie was out fucking other women. If you were really my mother, you would have killed yourself a long time ago.”

A gloved hand reached up and undid the hidden clasp in his helmet. The metal fell away easily, revealing a mop of pitch black hair that covered the back of his pale neck. “Poor Mrs Wayne, stuck in that big house all alone with so much love to give but no one to give it to. Jesus Christ, no wonder Dick left, you are so stifling.”

He huffed through his nose as if this whole thing was one big cosmic joke before Red Hood finally turned to face you once more. “Well mommy, how does it feel to know that your jay-bird is a murderer?”

“Oh god.” You whimpered as you took him in. Jason’s face was covered with the silvery lines of old scars, including a large one that curled up from the corner of his lip all the way up his cheek, giving him a snarled smile. His eyes were no longer the soft hazel that they once were but now an almost supernatural green. A slash of white cut through his dark hair.

He was so different but he was still Jason. “My baby.” Tears quickly rolled down your full cheeks. “You’re alive.” You didn’t fight against your bonds anymore, you couldn’t. It felt like your body was shutting down as shock set it.

Jason scoffed at your tears. “Oh so now you wanna start crying? Fucking pathetic.” He rolled his eyes.

“My boy, my boy.” You cried. He was alive, all this time he was alive and you hadn’t found him. Guilt settled heavily in your gut and suddenly it was like it was 5 years ago. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re just sorry that now you have to face the consequences of your actions.” You shook your head. “Or are you sorry that you weren’t a better mommy?” He asked mockingly.

“I’m so sorry Jason. I’m sorry. I love you so much.” You were in near hysterics now. “I love you.”

But evidently, that was the wrong thing to say because with an explosive amount of power, Jason threw his helmet at the far wall. The metal dented upon impact, shattering the cheap drywall. “No you don’t! You never did!” He blazed with an anger you had never seen before.

“I do. You were the best thing to happen to me Jason. You’re my baby. I’ll love you forever.” And for a split second, you saw the rage melt away and what was left was that scared little kid who just needed a guiding hand.

“Fuck you! You’re just a fucking trophy wife who can’t even keep her husband in her own bed!” He screamed into your face but you did not flinch.

“I love you.” You repeated, your tone unwavering.

“You aren’t even my real mother!” His face was red with emotion, just the same way it used to when he was upset or frustrated.

“I love you.”

“I don’t love you!” He shouted back but his eyes could no longer meet yours and his hands were shaking.

“I love you.” Your voice was soft now, just barely a whisper but you knew he heard you. He shot forward, slipping a knife from some hidden pocket into his palm. The ropes that held you fell away just as he collapsed into your arms.

You did not hesitate, you wrapped him up as tightly as you could, Jason’s head falling to the crook of your neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. “I love you my Jason.” Tears soaked through your shirt as he sobbed, his huge chest heaving with his pain.

“I was so scared. I just wanted you and you weren’t there. There was so much fire and blood.” Thick arms wound around your waist, squeezing you harshly. “I wanted my mommy.”

“I’m here now. I’m never letting you go again, never.”

He nuzzled further into you and you almost didn’t catch his quiet “I love you momma.”

“I love you more.”

And that’s where Dick found you hours later, kneeling on the dirty floor of a condemned building, Red Hood asleep in your arms as you sang him a lullaby.

Anon request: 3.The boys did something wrong and she punish them by (whatever you want to do) and one of the replies, “you’re not My Mom!”

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ljh-writing-blog · 1 year

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Batmom #2 - Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson was and is a force of nature. Brought to Bruce, and by extension yourself, as a child of only eight years old through suffering and death you felt yourself a kindred spirit. You were at Haley’s Circus that night, Bruce thought it would be a wonderful date. The night ended in tragedy, a stunt “gone wrong”. You only hoped the energies of the oldest Flying Graysons were at rest.

The worst part of the night was feeling everyone’s fear in the tent. Dick’s fear stood out to you, it was the strongest and you felt the immediate need to rid it from his small self. You didn’t hesitate to jump out of the stands and find him in the chaos. You made Bruce pull some strings so you could take him home, you didn’t care how but the boy was coming with you. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, leave him alone to some foster facility for however long it would take to find him placement. You would convince Bruce to take him in, if he didn’t you’d find your own apartment and care for him yourself. Diana always wanted more girl time and you knew she loved kids. All these contingencies ran through your head as you held him close, picking him up and taking him out of the tent. Taking him away from the horror and blood that stained the tent that night.

Bruce wasn’t the best father, truthfully he wasn’t much of a father in the early years. Alfred had been a big help and you stepped up to fill the mother figure role in his life. You stopped fighting crime on the daily, only joining the battle field when absolutely necessary. You had a few shifts at the Watchtower weekly but made sure they were while Dick was at school. You refused to let him sit in his grief alone, it wasn’t healthy. At times you overwhelmed him, he was so full of desolation and rage your love made him sick. He reminded you constantly you weren’t his mother, “My mother is dead! You’re just an expensive wanna-be replacement!” His words damaged your heart at times but you never let it show, not to him at least. Alfred spent many nights baking and drinking tea with you while you both discussed the day’s events. Sometimes it was just a few tears you both pretended not to notice, others it was much more difficult. The first year had been the hardest for all of you.

You weren’t sure if Dick finding the Batcave’s Grandfather Clock entrance was the worst thing that ever happened to your family or the best: it brought your boys closer, you and Bruce started talking again, it allowed Dick to move past his anger and grief, it also allowed him to embrace his trapeze skills and think of them positively instead of the negative left behind. Your son becoming Robin was probably the best thing for his mental health at the time. But it also brought bruises, cuts, concussions, forged doctors notes, and small bouts of what Bruce called a “Napoleon Complex”. It brought pain and death right back to your doorstep in ways you never thought possible.

When Dick found out you were a superhero, with what he liked to refer to as magic, he went crazy. He demanded a talent show and to see you in your suit. You indulged if only to see his smiles, he could light up a room with his grin. Using your mutation to lift him in the air sure wasn’t what he was expecting but it was definitely cool. Once you donned your suit Dick recognized you, his next request filled you with dread. “Y/N your powers are so cool! Can you show me my deepest fear? It’d be really cool to know…” He began rambling as you felt a pit form in your stomach. You never want to use those parts of your powers on anyone you love, especially the boy you live for. Bruce, who had been watching your little fashion show, recognized you tensing up and took over the conversation. “That’s enough for today, Chum. Your mother has had a long day and she’s very tired.” It was the first time Dick hadn’t objected to you being referred to as his mother. That day started a new chapter for your family.

Dick Grayson is a force of nature but you couldn’t imagine your eldest son any other way.

#batboys #batman #batmom imagine #batmom reader #batmom x bruce wayne #batmom!reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #child!dick grayson #batfam x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom #the batman #batfam x reader #batmom x justice league #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #scarlet witch batmom #batmom2

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

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RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

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clangrogu · 3 months

Text

DC x Reader Fic Recs

It Got Worse by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, F!Reader, Wayne!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bruce is overprotective)

Office Crushes by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, SFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega!Reader, Plus size!Reader, Slight angst, Protective!Clark)

Playground Chaos by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, GN!Reader, SFW)

At the Stitches by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, Black Widow!Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader has magic)

To the Paparazzi by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slight angst, Body shaming, Mild swearing, COVID-19 mentions)

Keep the Doors Locked by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader F!Reader, NSFW, Smut, Getting walked in on, Bi!reader mention)

Just a Couple More Minutes by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slightly Suggestive)

Illegal by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Batmom!Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implication of smut, Puberty mentions)

What Is A Mother, But The Woman Who Loves Us Most? by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

I Have Too Many Children by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implications of sex)

I’ve Finally Found Something For My Shelf by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me" by @allysunny (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bale!Bruce Wayne)

A New Beginning by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Plus size!Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

Slumber Party by @bippot (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader is kidnapped and kinda traumatised, Canon typical violence, Minor injuries)

Now or Never by @whirlybirbs (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Mild depiction of injuries, Reader is a retired hero)

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lilylovelyxo · 1 year

Text

*Batboys lost a present from Bruce to their Mom*

Collective groaning

Damian panicked: “What are we gonna do?”

Dick: “Uh, okay. What can we do? We, uh, we put a different ring in the box and voilà.”

Tim: “We don’t have another ring, Dick.”

Jason: “Okay, so, we, uh, we, we stage a burglary and in the struggle we stab Bruce. But just a little, and Mom is so glad he’s alive that she forgets about the anniversary.”

Damian: “I mean, I love that, but maybe for some other time.

Jason: “Christmas.”

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

Note

well fuck the biological mom— she’s just there to get money for her new kids? wtf

can we get her reaction to all of the kids barreling in? i want to see her being so uncomfortable because not only is batmom a mom but she’s a better mom than she could ever be🤧

You new what they were doing. You weren't stupid. You could hear them all outside the doors- so much for years of stealth training.

Or maybe, you'd hoped they were there. And so they appeared. It didn't matter. What mattered was that the noise and the cheerful bickering took up the empty space.

It filled the chasm between you and the woman in the straight-backed chair, taken aback by how many children there were. And the way that they fussed over you.

Jason refilled your tea and Dick scolded Bruce for not putting your feet up properly. Steph and Tim demanded that you show them your seed starters so they could figure out where to put them. Damian reminded you that you promised to take him shopping... even if you hadn't. And Cass simply contented herself with sitting next to the sofa and fixing your mother with a stare designed to make her squirm. Unreadable. But how dare anyone say you weren't a parent. And Duke, well. He didn't really know what to do so he decided to post up. If Jason went for her throat Dick was going to need extra hands to pull him off.

"My kids," you explain, ruffling Cass's hair affectionately. "Bruce keeps bringing them home."

"I see-" She broke off. Blinking. Wrapping her mind around things- around the fact that you had a full life. Kids. A spouse. "Do they- I mean do they know?"

"That ma's a certified badass?" Jason said, "Yeah."

"Yeah," the rest of them chorus, ready to close ranks. To ice her out. Company manners or no. No one was going to mess with their Cavalry.

"Enough-" Bruce started.

"Let them stay, Bruce?" you ask. It felt better. Having them there. You didn't know if you were ready for them to know more details but- having them where you knew they were safe helped. Knowing that they were willing to do this for you. It helped. "They already know- at least most of the story. As much as they need to know for this."

And one by one, aside from Cass, who's still sitting on the floor where you can stroke her hair- idly raiding it for her after she handed you a couple hair ties- they took seats. And accepted tea from Alfred. Who'd slipped in and discreetly made his presence known.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #batmom!reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert

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ynscrazylife · 8 months

Text

alrighty so, for my batmom is a widow from the red room thing, what should batmom’s code name be? black bat? bat widow?

#dc #marvel #dc marvel crossover #marvel dc crossover #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batmom #batmom!reader

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charlotteking23 · 2 months

Note

Hi, I don't know if you're taking requests, but here's one. Imagine that Bruce somehow ends up becoming a child again and this leaves his children a little desperate for fear of Y/N and Alfred's reaction, and during this time that Bruce stays in his child form one thing becomes very noticeable is that Bruce simply doesn't leave his wife's side (Y/N) and this somehow ends up making the boys, especially Damian, jealous and in the end everything is resolved.

Kisses♡ (by the way, I love your writing and I'm sorry if I'm a little confused, it's because English isn't my first language)

Little Bruce

Bruce Wayne x Y/n (batmom)

"Hey Bruce what does this do?", Here we go again Jason decided to use another machine zapping it accidentally at Bruce. " Jason, Why do you always do this didn't you learn from the age swap machine", Dick scold Jason again.

Dad are you okay, Tim said reaching towards the the oversized clothes that were on the floor. "Hi", A little boy suddenly came out of the clothes and waved.

immediately the boys started screaming and panicking. " oh no, what are Mom and Alfred going to say?", Tim said fearing for their reaction, already imagining it. "That's what you worried about not that he's butt-naked", Jason said covering his eyes, no one should ever see their dad naked.

"It's your fault stupid", Damian said looking shocked at his father being a child. "Okay, everyone calm down one of us has to tell Mom and Alfred so I vote for Jason", Dick said holding Bruce in his arms. Both Damian and Tim were okay with it, "why me?", Jason whined complaining how it wasn't fair but all he got was Are you kidding me looks from his brothers and even little Bruce.

Time skip

"Hey, kids and extra kid- who is that"? Y/n stared at her kids in shock counting them and making sure she wasn't seeing things. Wait a second that child looks like Bruce. " Mom please don't be mad but I accidentally zap Bruce to a little kid", Jason finishes saying in one breath, waiting to see his mother's reaction.

Alfred was so shocked he dropped a teacup, looking at Bruce reminding him of the past. "WHAT!, you all are grounded for 1 month", Y/n said angrily taking little Bruce out of Dick's arms.

The kids started to help more with taking care of little Bruce. But no matter what he didn't leave Y/n side always hugging her or holding her hand. Little Bruce wouldn't even sleep in the spare bedroom instead slept in his and Y/n rooms.

if you asked any of the boys who were upset with this change they would immediately say Damian. Damian was a momma boy who always got along the most with his Ummi.

"Ummi, Little dad/Bruce is staring out at me with hatred, I request if should kick him out", Damian said glaring back at the little boy. "Dami, we can't do that, he's just a little boy and your father", Y/n said protesting giving little Bruce a hug.

"Mom, it's kinda weird to call a little kid my father", Jason looking at little Bruce making funny faces at him and making him laugh. One thing for sure little Bruce was much happier than adult Bruce. "I guess you're right, it is kinda weird calling him my husband as well", Y/n said side eyeing little Bruce.

While Y/n looked for a doctor to make little Bruce into an adult Bruce, the kids babysat little Bruce. Jason was in charge of entertainment, making sure Bruce was happy because nobody wanted to deal with a crying Bruce. Alfred as usual was in charge of the meals having to expand his cooking to fit Master Little Bruce's appetite. Dick made sure to clean all the messes even the toilets to help Alfred. Tim Made sure little Bruce took his daily naps, reading stories to him, leading to Tim falling asleep. Damian all together decided not to help, because of his strong dislike towards little Bruce.

Y/n had found out about Damian's jealousy towards little Bruce. " Damian I promised you will never be replaced by anyone", Y/n said putting her pinky out for a pinky promise. what surprised me was all her kids felt like this as well, even though they didn't show. "kids I didn't mean to make you feel as if you were being replaced, come on let's hug this out." Y/n even made Alfred join in the hug.

Y/n did end up finding a doctor/mad scientist and he was able to fix Bruce. But the kids decided to take pictures and videos of little Bruce to use as leverage against adult Bruce.

"So what happened when I was Little Bruce, you guys seemed to call me", Bruce said lying in bed and hugging his wife while reading a book. It's a long story I will tell you tomorrow but heads up the kids took embarrassing photos of you when you were little Bruce", Y/n covering herself in the covers. " Oh man", Bruce said slapping his forehead and sighing deeply, while Y/n laughed at his reaction. "I missed you Y/n", Bruce said kissing her lips. "I missed you too little Bruce", Y/n said letting go of the kiss with a teasing grin.

#batman #batfam x reader #batfam x batmom #batmom #batmom imagine #batmom imagines #batmom!reader #bruce wayne #batfamily #batman and robin #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson #damian wayne #damian al ghul #tim drake #jason todd #little bruce

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sporadically-writing · 2 years

Conversation

Damian: All of your existences are confusing.

The Batfam: How so?

Damian: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you upsets me.

#batmom!reader #batsibling!reader #batsiblings #batfam x reader #dc x reader #batman x reader #incorrect quotes

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the-daydreaming-show · 3 months

Text

❝never a tear, baby of mine❞ — Jason Todd

dick's version

Jason was a quiet kid. So quiet and calm that he didn't was totally a child, more was like a mini adult.

NOTE:

This is like REALLY late, because I had problems with my internet and the power on me going out, so I apologize for that.

As always, thanks to our beta reader: @igotmessymind.

And wiht no further ado, I hope you find wait worth it, I apologize again and that you for reading!!

XOXO ELLA.

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that I have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Mentions of child neglect; Jason (not his actual) mom death.

Contrary to popular belief, Dick was always the son who kept you and Bruce on the edge of your seats.

People were always surprised when you told them this. Probably, because with those blue eyes and adorable dimples, your eldest son knew how to fool people so easily. But the boy had grown up in the circus and had more energy than a thunderbolt. You couldn't count the times you found him hanging from the ceiling lamps, practicing his pirouettes. He was the reason there was a strict rule at Wayne Manor about not taking your feet off the ground without adult supervision.

Jason, your baby, he was easy. People were shocked at this statement as well.

People expected him to be a little savage whenever you guys made a public appearance, whether it was at a gala or going to the market.

Yes. You had to keep him from talking to the press, because he had a habit of being verbally deadly, but other than that he was always the calmest of kids. But other than that, he never left his calm character at all times when being in public and in private as well.

This unfounded popular belief probably had something to do with the boy being taken off the streets by you and your husband. Literally.

Your husband kidnapped a child from an alley in Gotham on a given winter night.

Mmmh, maybe Bruce was your most chaotic boy and not Dick like you thought.

You weren't in the batcave that night, so Alfred was the one supervising the computer. But when it got particularly late, just before the sun began to rise, you woke up to find that your husband still wasn't sleeping clinging to your waist like he usually did. So you decided to go downstairs to see what was going on.

You meet Alfred, waiting with a tray with three cups of freshly brewed tea.

“Are we expecting someone, Alfred?” you asked as you approached the man preparing everything with elegance.

“That's right, Miss” the man said, looking up with amused eyes “Master Bruce has found company on tonight's patrol” he gave you the look of a father disappointed but not surprised by his son's actions. But before you could say more or ask questions, the sound of the Batmobile in the distance made you approach the platform where the car typically parked.

Bruce jumped out of the car, in his Batman suit, without any injuries that you could see, then leaned over to help a small body out of the vehicle. He was a boy, skinny to the bone, in your eyes, dressed inappropriately for the weather, and looking around with startled eyes. You looked at your husband in confusion, Bruce could practically see the question mark on your forehead. So he walked over to you, while the boy was too gawking at the cave to notice that you guys were talking to the side.

“¿Did you kidnap a child again?” you asked in a worried whisper.

“No” Bruce defended himself, pulling off the hood of his suit so that you could see all of his beautiful face in front of you. “His name is Jason” he explained to you while they both looked at the boy for a moment. Jason had stepped away from the Batmobile to look down at the edge of the platform at the void below you, his cheeks against the metal of the railings. (You were mentally grateful to have convinced Bruce to put those railings all over the cave, after that Dick started spending more time there years ago). “And I found him trying to steal the tires from the Batmobile. He was alone, and he told me that he intended to sell it to buy food” he told you, and you instinctively looked at said car.

That beastly car had almost been desecrated by the little hands of a hungry child, who didn't seem at all affected by the idea of almost robbing THE Batman. You found the situation amusing.

“Really?”, you asked your husband, smiling amused.

All while Jason was looking fascinated at the ceiling of the cave and wondering: ¿Where did the lights hang from?. He couldn't see the roof of the place.

“Yeah. And he almost got away with it.” Bruce seemed almost proud of the boy's actions, and you couldn't feel the same way. Press your lips together in an attempt not to laugh out loud.

“¿And how does all that explain your kidnapping him?” you asked teasingly, to which Bruce rolled his eyes in exoneration and giggled impishly at it.

“You are Bruce Wayne's wife” the boy's voice made them both look at him, but the boy was not intimidated and kept talking. “Which makes sense, because if Bruce Wayne is Batman, obviously his wife will know.” he said, more like a thought out loud than a conversation with you. “My mom used to say that she would die from one of the shoes you put up and that they showed on TV, but in the end she died from the drugs, not your shoes” he explained naturally. To which you threw your head back a bit in surprise at such a natural statement about something that must have been very sad. Looking at your husband and his eyes told you it was the first time he heard about this. “I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Wayne.” the boy apologized quickly, suddenly very aware that he was talking to two of the richest people in Gotham (and the world as well) “B told me I could spend the night here. But don't worry tomorrow, in the morning I'll leave without causing any problems” he quickly explained to you.

You looked at your husband again, and he left a memory in his mind for you to see as an explanation. He showed you how he had found the boy, how Bruce had talked him into agreeing to let him buy something to eat and then offered him a place to sleep, because the boy admitted that he was all alone. With a dead mother and a father who was in prison, the boy lived on the streets of Gotham, surviving as best he could. Jason hadn't trusted him at first, which was understandable. Who knew what he had seen living on the streets of a city like Gotham. So Bruce did the only thing he could think of to gain the boy's trust, so he could get him to safety, as he took off his mask. And Jason, faced with such a show of honesty, agreed to get on the Batmobile to return with Bruce to the cave. (Or, Bruce put the boy in the car before he could get over the shock of the news. It depends on how you look at it.)

“Oh honey. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all, we have plenty of space available” you assured him with a sweet smile to which the boy smiled back. It was true, since Dick had moved in with the Titans, there was too much empty space for your liking. “Come, sit down and have some tea, it will help with the cold” you said, pointing up the stairs to the main platform of the cave.

“Cool!” the boy exclaimed as they started walking. Bruce instinctively reached for your hand, not wanting you to stray too far from him, just because.

Then Jason ate a dozen of Alfred's cookies, drank all his tea, and at the end, Bruce let him touch the batcomputer, watching the boy's fascination with all the buttons. (Of course, the latter was under your and Bruce's watch. You didn't want the boy to activate some self-destruct protocol or something). He played with the satellite map for a while, showing you the places he had been and the school he used to go to before his mother died. Then he started to yawn, and you were sure the sun should have risen outside by that point.

“Well, it's time to go up” you said when you saw him yawn widely for the third time. “Come on” you stood up from your seat next to him to offer him your hand. The boy frowned at you, severely confused.

“¿Up where?” he asked, looking at your hand suspiciously, but rising to take it and follow you nonetheless. You had that effect on him. You were so pretty, and warm, and kind that he thought to himself, there was no way you were real, surely all of this must be a cruel hallucination of some kind.

“Up home, Jay” you told her as you turned to be greeted by a Bruce who had already come out of his suit and was waiting for them both on the stairs to the elevator. “We're below Wayne Manor” you explained, thinking that he was confused as to what was above your heads and why they would go there.

“Will you let me sleep in your mansion?!” the surprised boy asked. There was definitely something wrong there, there was no way two of the richest people in the city would let him sleep in his house, in one of his beds, with expensive mattresses and even more expensive sheets. Impossible.

“Of course” you said with a sweet smile, “We have many empty rooms and now one of them is yours”

“Your room is ready, young Jason.” Alfred told him, joining the walk to the elevator. “Though maybe an extra cookie or two was left in the room by accident. I hope that's not a problem for you” he said, smiling complacently, at which the boy laughed mischievously. You gave him a look that Alfred pretended not to catch, and they all went on their way while.

“I didn't think you would let me sleep at your house.” the boy admitted shyly, looking at his shoes, once again thinking aloud.

It took you a second to realize that Jason had thought she'd leave him sleeping in the cave, like a stray dog, and it broke your heart. You promised yourself to do everything you could to make that little boy feel like he deserved nothing less than the best in the world.

Jason didn't leave the mansion after that day.

Social Services didn't put up much resistance to the adoption, for two reasons. Firstly, you and Bruce already had a pretty good record of adopting and raising Dick. And second, stirring up the issue too much would show how they hadn't looked for Jason after he had run away from his last home. From what you've seen, his file only contains basic information leading up to the fact that he was supposed to be in foster care with 10-15 other kids, but clearly they've been on the streets for quite some time. And Jason seemed to have adjusted quickly when the caseworker came to visit for the first few weeks, at least to her standards. But in your eyes, the child was far from having adapted to the idea of being part of the family.

Jason gets up early, before everyone else in the house.

You had learned from the experience with Dick that establishing a strict bedtime schedule was important in the long run. So you knew he was sleeping because you watched him before you went to sleep yourself. So the boy sleeps well and you could confirm it. He had admitted to you that it had been difficult in the early days to sleep at night because he could never really be asleep while living on the streets. Something about the heavy blankets over him made him fall asleep peacefully. His lights went out before he could even finish laying his head on the pillow. Of course, this one you had invested a lot of money in more blankets for the child, which was the only thing that Jason had allowed to be bought for his room.

He assured you that the room was fine as is, and it did not need to be changed. What you'd called bullshit all along, because there was no way a kid would like a room that was the closest thing to a blank page. But you hadn't pushed him, waited until he was more comfortable in the new environment.

So the boy was sleeping in a guest room he didn't want to make entirely his own. He was up before anyone else in the house, even Alfred. He would get ready and go down to breakfast alone. He got what he needed by scaling the counter and cabinets if necessary, leaving Alfred to clean up the marks on his slippers. This until Jason overheard him, after which he started taking off his sneakers before climbing up to find the cereal. He ate breakfast in silence, looking out the kitchen window at the patio, then washed everything he had used by hand, even though there is a state-of-the-art dishwasher in the kitchen. He then left the kitchen and got lost in the mansion.

Bruce found him in the mansion's library a couple of times. Jason said that he was trying to practice his reading, since he hadn't been to school since before her mom died because he had to take care of her when her dad was arrested. Your husband offered his help, but the boy refused. And since Jay realized that his hideout had been discovered, he began to roam the mansion, picking random rooms to hide in during the day when you and Bruce began to keep him company in the library.

The child hides and avoids both of you. You at first thought that was a repeat of Dick's first few months, that Jason was mad at the world. Consequently, you would expect anger and yelling anytime you ran into Jason around the mansion. You mentally braced yourself for the thought of all that chaos again, how he would sneak out of school when he started once the holidays were over and the whole package was over.

This time, you were ready and prepared to help him with that rage. You won't let it consume you like Dick did for a long time because you didn't know how to handle it. This time you will do well.

But Jason's eyes would light up when you or your husband greeted him in the mornings after meeting him at the house. He clung to the hands of one or both of you every time you went out into the street. He would hug your waist when you hid him from the paparazzi in the park. (You had a no-photos rule for your kids, only official photos approved by you and your husband, so you and the paparazzi didn't have the best relationship in the world.) He let you guys hug him and look at him without problem. He never initiates affection, but he clung to it when it was given to him, both from you and from Bruce, or Alfred even.

So you were confused, to say the least.

However, you had learned your lesson with Dick. There were situations in which you had to be active and aggressive to help your children. So you talked to Bruce and you both decided it was time to talk to Jason about this peculiar pattern.

Then Alfred told you that if they both faced him at the same time, it would be too intimidating for the boy, causing him to shut down more than help.

Blessings be Alfred. He has always been the smartest in the house (don't tell that to Bruce).

Like every night, Jason had already gotten ready and tucked themselves into bed. Also, he had offered to help Alfred with the cleaning like every day, but the butler had refused as he did a lot lately. So he decided to do the whole night routine without bothering you: he brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, got into bed and read a book, like you usually offer to do. It cost him less than before, but still some words were complicated.

You arrived shortly after he had finished reading his fourth story of the night and had accidentally gotten hooked on reading another one. You knocked on the door softly as you opened it.

“Oh, you're already in bed,” you commented, surprised that the boy had done everything himself. Usually, he lets you help with all of this without a problem, so you're disappointed that he won't let you help him.

“Yes, and I just read one story,” he said, quickly trying to hide that he had disobeyed the one-story rule. Jason didn't want you to be angry. He knew you wouldn't hurt him, but he feared your disappointment more than your fury.

“Really?”, you asked excitedly. You knew how hard he had worked to improve his reading these past few weeks to prepare for school. “That's amazing, honey,” you told him as you closed the door softly and walked to sit next to him. Jason smiled happily at your tone of pure joy and pride in his accomplishment.

“Yes,” Jason said as he closed the book and left it on the nightstand, excited to tell you about his progress, “I still have a hard time with some words. But I will fix it before school starts.” He made it clear to you right away, so don't worry.

The truth is that Jason didn't want to bother. Not you, not Alfred, not Bruce. In his mind, that was the way to be a good son. That was what his parents had taught him.

Willis Todd hated it when Jason was in the way. He always ran into him around the house (although that was probably beer-related), and that ended badly for Jason. So Jason learned quickly to stay out of the way so as not to be in the way, not in the sight of his parents, because that was good. His mother never said anything against that arrangement, so he always assumed she agreed.

When his dad left, disappearing without any notice (Jason eventually found out on the streets that he had been arrested and sent to prison), it became difficult for his mom not to see him since she had to do everything. But she was too high to notice half the time. And the other half, when she was aware of him, she wasn't aggressive towards him, she went from hugging him lovingly to crying on her shoulder. As if Catherine were the child and Jason was the father, she was comforting. Then she didn't get up after one dose, and the police came after he called an elderly woman who lived next door to her to ask her to call an ambulance. Then they put him in a couple of foster homes. But no one paid much attention to him, and it wasn't worth putting up with the other children, especially the older ones, who enjoyed tormenting him for being smaller. So he ended up on the street, taking care of himself. It was more natural for him to depend on himself alone than to let them take care of him.

“Well,” you said, settling next to him against the headboard, “but there's no need for that. That's why you're going to school — to learn,” you explained as you ran your hand through his curls. “It's okay if you don't know everything before that.”

“But I don't want to be behind the rest of my classmates, they surely already know how to read very well,” he explained regretfully, somewhat embarrassed.

Only once had his parents been called to the school he had gone to in Park Row. The teacher meant well, for sure. But telling her father that Jason seemed to need a little more help than usual with his reading and that it would be a good idea to move him to a school with a special program for kids like him only made her father see it. And that was never something good. He didn't want you to feel upset with him for that, either.

“It doesn't matter what other children know or don't know, Jason,” you assured him lovingly. “It matters that you learn without fear of not knowing. It's not a bad thing to not know how to do something that's hard for you to do, sometimes,” you tried to explain, and the boy nodded slowly, processing the information you had given him.

Jason thought for a moment, absorbing what you said, but he was not sure how to respond in a way that would make you happy but not be a nuisance to your daily life. But you didn't let him get to a question because you asked him one in return.

“Jason, my dear,” you called, breaking the boy from his thoughts, who looked at you with big, blue eyes. So precious your baby was. “I have a very important question for you, and I need you to answer me honestly,” you asked him seriously, to which the boy adjusted himself with a worried frown to face you more.

It reminded you of Bruce, who made the same gestures when you talked to him seriously.

Your heart tightened with pride at how your two boys, Dick and Jason, were beginning to imitate Bruce so soon after meeting him. Despite all of his doubts, he was someone the kids immediately looked to as an example. You reminded him repeatedly, despite his complaints, because he needed to be reminded that being Batman wasn't the only way he could make a difference to people. He did it every day in his home, with your children, and with you.

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne - Sorry, y/n,” he corrected himself quickly, but you thought nothing of it despite the way he cringed in place at his own mistake.

“Jay, do you like being here with me, with Bruce, and with Alfred? Are you happy being part of this family?” you asked a little fearfully, sounding as soft as possible so that it didn't feel like an interrogation.

Jason was stunned. His blue eyes looked at you in confusion: Why would you ask such a question? Of course, he was happy, Jason had everything he could need to survive and the company of you and Bruce. Why would you think he wasn't happy with you?

You saw the confusion painted on his face the moment you asked, so you decided to elaborate a little more on the situation.

“You see, Bruce and I have noticed that you don't seem to be around the house much even though you're here. You even get up to have breakfast alone. It seems like you are hiding from us, Jay. Which is why Bruce and I are worried” you began to explain in a soft tone, “Did something happen? Is there something bothering you?

“No, there's nothing that bothers me,” Jason assured quickly, so worried about the situation. “I just don't want to be in the middle,” the boy explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Which made your heart break, and you wondered why he would believe that.

Would there have been any comments from you or Bruce?

Or something you guys did that gave Jason that impression?

Whatever it was, it needed a solution because it couldn't be further from the truth. Personally, you had missed having a child in the house, and so had Bruce, despite his attempt to pretend that Dick's departure hadn't bothered him.

Your husband and eldest son had a very ugly fight before he went to live in the Teen Titans Tower. He had arranged for you and Alfred to serve as intermediates. But that didn't change your oldest son's decision to move out of the house. A lot of his stuff was still at Wayne Manor, but he wasn't, which made it a little depressing for you.

“Why do you think you're in the middle?” you asked sadly.

“Well, I know it bothers adults when kids are all over them needing things and asking questions. So I try not to be too intense with you because I am very grateful because now I am part of the family.” Jason shrugged as he looked at his hands, trying to remove his cuticles. A nervous habit that you had noticed.

Unsure of what to do, you played it safe and hugged Jason over the shoulder with one arm, holding him close to you, while with your other free hand, you stopped the suggestion of pinching your cuticles by taking his hand and caressing his plasma instead.

You thought for a moment about how you could handle the whole situation without the need to abruptly destroy the belief system and give it a crisis. You also didn't want all of this to sound like a reprimand for believing something that couldn't be further from the truth, because it wasn't his fault. But you weren't going to leave things like that.

“You know, Jay. Bruce and I are not like other adults," you started feeling a little like Mean Girls' mom and her 'I'm not a regular mom, I'm a cool mom', which made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept going. “We love having you around. Dick got us used to that, you know, so we’d love for you to get in the middle as much as you like Jay,” you explained, and the boy looked at you with wide eyes, a gleam of hope in them.

“Really?” he asked doubtfully.

“Really serious,” you assured him with a smile, which Jason couldn’t help but quickly spread. “Besides, you can always know without a doubt that as long as you are in the middle of your father and mine, you will never have to worry about anything. Because you will be safe and sound,” you assured him gently, moving a hair from his forehead and then kissing the area lovingly.

“I like that,” Jason whispered, as if the thought had escaped him, looking at you with stars in his eyes. He really liked that idea.

Jason ran down the stairs while you calmly entered the house with bags of clothes in hand. Alfred was behind you with more bags and resigned to the fact that you had once again bought extra clothes for the whole family. Yes, you also bought him a couple of new sweaters, the kind he liked, but he insisted they were too expensive.

You didn't finish passing through the living room towards the stairs when Jason ran up and hugged your waist without thinking twice. Now, at thirteen years old, it would probably be time for you to start asking him to take care of the force with which he threw himself into his arms whenever he saw you. But the truth is that you didn't want him to. If you two fell, so be it, but you would never ask Jason to walk away. Not after what it was like the first time your son was in the house.

“Hello, sweet boy,” you said to Jason while hugging as best you could with the bags in your arms. “I got you another one of those hoodies that you said you liked. I got it in red, I thought that color would look good on you”.

Jason didn't stop hugging your waist as the three of you went upstairs to leave the bags so he could try on what you had bought him. Nor when, after trying everything on and being satisfied with his new clothes, you went back downstairs to have tea and eat cookies in the library. Not even when the two of them left there to greet Bruce when he arrived late from the Wayne Enterprise, and he received the same hug, but with more balance than you. Dick arrived, and Jason was still clinging to your waist until all sat down to eat dinner.

“Was I like that?” Dick asked in a mocking whisper to Alfred.

“Was?” mocked back the butler “Master Dick, you are still exactly like that”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @poppyalice2001 @lafrone @voodoo-writer @lilvampirina @astrial @maliagurl @kazhaelfuhghi @poppyalice2001 @totallynotme420 @calsjack @igotmessymind @pato-spoiler-27 @urminebutidontwantyou @cluelessteam

#batfamily x reader #jason todd x batmom #batmom #tim drake x batmom #batmom!reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson x batmom #scarletwitch!batmom!reader #scarletwitch!reader #batman x scarletwitch

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 8 months

Text

One Bad Day....Betrayal on Both Sides

Day 4 Betrayal for @ailesswhumptober's event

This moodboard is part of my One Bad Day.... series and examines what happens just after Part One of the story. Sometimes betrayal is all about perspective.....

#ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober #betrayal #moodboard #one bad day....#batman #bruce wayne #batmom #batmom!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #batman x batmom #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd #red hood

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

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Not How His Monday Was Supposed to Go

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

The new Wayne Enterprises board member has had enough of Bruce’s shit.

Warnings: Bruce is a bit of an asshole and a pig, mention of a family member needing surgery, swearing, reader is a girlboss, Bruce is low-key a sub, implied smut

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

When you agreed to act as your father’s representative for Wayne Enterprises as he recovered from surgery, you certainly weren’t expecting the CEO of the company to stroll in three hours late, dark purple bruises littering his muscular neck, dark shades perched on the end of his nose, suit and hair ruffled.

You huffed as he crumpled into the stupidly expensive chair at the head of the table, only four seats down from you. You had to admit he was a very handsome man, with broad shoulders and dark hair that seemed to curl perfectly around his sculpted face. He gave an air of intimidation but his bright blue eyes made him seem approachable. “So what’d I miss?”

And suddenly your attraction to the man was gone.

Every meeting that followed, Bruce would strut into the room several hours late, one time he was already there when everyone arrived but he was asleep and still wearing the same clothes as the day before. Most times, he wouldn’t even show up, but when he did, he wouldn’t contribute anything meaningful to the conversation, simply giving generic anecdotes that related to the women he had seduced.

The most aggravating thing was, you knew how intelligent he could be. Sometimes it would just slip out. He would say something profound and incredibly smart but he would quickly catch himself and wave it off with some half-hearted comment like “or whatever the senator told me last night. Though I could have heard her wrong, her mouth was quite full”. It irked you to no end, especially being the only woman serving on the board.

As the weeks dragged on and your father’s health was improving, your own mental health was going completely downhill and by the time your last day arrived, you were done with this alpha male bullshit that Bruce loved to instigate. So, as your final meeting ended, which Bruce conveniently didn’t attend, you stormed off, ready to give the man a piece of your mind.

Your heels clacked on the polished floor leading to the massive corner office he had claimed for himself. As you neared the huge dark gray doors, you paused for a moment, pulling down your pencil skinny so it sat lower down your plump thighs instead of bunching up, and making sure you didn’t have any of those dreaded button gaps around your considerable bust.

Taking in one last deep breath, trying to will yourself not to straggle the man right as you saw him, you gave a firm knock to the door and walked in.

Your boss was hunched over his desk, intently staring at what appeared to be blueprints. His dark Armani suit jacket was off and hanging over the back of his chair, leaving him in only a white button-up that stretched across the bulk of his muscles.

“Mr Wayne.” He glanced up from his work and a brief look of shock flashed across his face before he steeled his expression once more.

He muttered your name as he pushed his work to the side. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” The words were polite but his tone was anything but. He sounded like a typical frat boy who felt entitled to your attentions and affections. Your face fell into a scowl.

The door shut behind you with a slam, but you did not flinch. “Mr Wayne, this visit will be anything except a pleasure.” You strode forward with all the confidence in the world, anger swirling around you. “I have sat in that boardroom for weeks watching as you indulged men far below your moral and social standing. You have let them run wild, making a fool out of not only themselves but of you and your business.”

Bruce sat back in his chair, eyes wide as he watched you get closer and closer. “And I have had enough. I can see right through you Mr Wayne. You’re a smart man, you’re compassionate and generous, and yet you still act like these worms, pretend to be like them for some dumbass reason.”

You planted your hands onto his desk and loomed over the CEO. “So no matter what you do outside of this office that might redeem your flimsy character, you still let shit like this happen here and that makes you just as bad as those little boys. Fuck you Mr Wayne. Next time I see you, I will kick you in the nuts so hard your kids will feel it.”

And with that you turned and strode out like a conquering hero before realising you forgot something. You stuck your head back into his office. “Oh and go to all your meetings like a goddamn adult.” The door slammed shut on a bewildered looking Bruce who’s pants suddenly seemed a couple sizes too small.

“Wait wait wait. So the first time mom talked to you she cussed you out and threatened to assault you!” Tim exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. Dick and Jason seemed both amused and disgusted while Damian just looked at his father with immeasurable disappointment. Bruce smirked as he watched his boys have a simultaneous meltdown. The question had been a simple one, how did their parents meet, but it seems like they weren’t ready for the answer

“Yep.” He said proudly. “And let me tell you, it was the sexiest thing she’s ever done.”

“Ugh!”

“Gross!”

“Y’all are nasty!”

“Don’t talk about our mother like that!” They all screamed at once and, like usual, came to protect your honour. But Bruce just chuckled.

“She was a powerful woman, what can I say?”

“Was?” You cooed suddenly over his shoulder. “Who’s the one running Wayne Enterprises now?” Your sharp nails dragged along the skin top of his chest where his tight shirt didn’t cover. He shivered under your touch, his entire body going to mush.

You looked up from your now boneless husband to your sons. “Your father was a real piece of work when I first met him but I fixed him up real good.” You purred and pressed the tips of your nails into his skin.

Jason was the first to break, surprisingly. “Jesus Christ!” He cried out, slapping his hands over his ears. Then, they toppled like dominos.

Dick was positively green, Tim had a vein in his neck that looked like it was about to burst and Damian was glaring at the floor. “Go on boys, get out of here before I teach your father another lesson.” In a collective pile, they tumbled from the room, scrambling to get as far away as possible.

Bruce turned swiftly as soon as the boys were out of earshot and grabbed your hips to tug you down onto the chair with him. “Come on, Mrs Wayne, tell me how bad I’ve been.”

Request: Meets her at Wayne Co, she’s a new board member and have a few words for playboy Bruce who misses many meetings

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