Bruce Wayne X F!reader - Blog Posts

What Makes a Woman?

Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

Summary: Bruce learns some things from living with a woman for the first time.

Notes: talks about periods, so it is an afab reader. Fluff, slight NSFW, teeny bit of angst and brief mention of violence. This is post Dick, pre Jason because I like that age range for Bruce. But Dick doesn't actually make an appearance. Just making fun of Bruce and his rich bachelor boy ways. Bruce drinks his respect women juice every morning for breakfast.

Masterlist

Bruce, for all his worldly experience, has never lived with a woman. Sure, he's brought plenty of them home for a night, even vacationed with them, but that's different. Any woman, anyone who’s lived with a woman could tell you that it's different. But Bruce didn't know that, because he's never lived with a woman before.

This thought had never occurred to you until now. Why would it? You're not oblivious to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich playboy. You know he's experienced when it comes to women - in other realms. Not to mention he's also a father, there being plenty of unique situations that go along with that title. You know he's lived with wealth, you also know he's lived in the desert and most likely a multitude of other foreign places he hasn't told you about yet. Which is why you're staring at him blank faced right now. Because due to all of this, not once had it crossed your mind that one situation Bruce Wayne was not experienced in, was living with women. Such a simple, mundane thing that you had to laugh.

"What?" Bruce is giving you an adorable offended look, which only makes you snicker more. Clearly, his inexperience in this field is something that never crossed his mind either.

"Nothing," you soothe, "it's just, well, it's part of living with a woman, Bruce. We have a lot of hair. Have you ever owned a dog?"

"You're making fun of me, I can tell." His voice is serious but his eyebrows are raised playfully.

"No! I'm just warning you now, so that you aren't alarmed when you start finding it in your ass crack."

Bruce laughs out loud and turns away, leaving you to your business.

"I know how much you appreciate being prepared," you call after him. You can hear that he's still chuckling to himself.

"You are right about that," he replies. "And now I certainly am, thank you."

You smile to yourself, still laughing, and go back to what you were doing before Bruce came in and started questioning you. You're sitting on the floor next to the shower, pulling hair out of the drain. Judging by his concerned and slightly disgusted face when he walked in, Bruce did not in a million years expect to see his partner pulling a wad of hair and gunk out of his shower.

"Why don't you ask Alfred to pour something down and clear it out?"

"Do you see how thick this is?" You held up a chunk of hair. Bruce winced. "It's not going to dissolve that easily. Besides, I wanna take a shower now. It's clogging up the drain and I don't wanna stand in a lake."

"That's what's been clogging the drain? I thought there was a problem with the plumbing," the disgust is renewed on his face.

"You didn't think to look?"

"Why would I? I was just going to call someone to fix it."

"Oh my god."

That's when realization dawned on you. Bruce didn't have sisters, he's never had a serious girlfriend before you, he hasn't even lived with his mom since he was eight. It's been him, Alfred, and Dick. In fact, now that you think about it, both Alfred and Dick have lived longer with a woman than Bruce. The idea that a wad of girl hair could truly catch Batman off guard and also bring a look of revulsion to his face admittedly delighted you. What else could you surprise him with?

...

"What is this?" Bruce's voice reaches you from the bedroom. You're in the closet, deciding what to wear for the day.

"What is what?" You call back.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him approach and lean against the door frame. He's smirking - usually a bad sign. Bruce holds up a notebook. It's your period tracking journal. You tell him as much.

"I can see that," he continues, "but what is this." He holds the book open and points to a specific entry. Your face reddens and you snatch the book away from him.

"Have you ever heard of privacy?"

But his smirk only grows into a full grin. "You log our sex?"

"You're supposed to," you defend. "I log almost all of my activity, Bruce. It's for accuracy."

"Ohhh, accuracy. Okay." He walks towards you. "Don't worry, I know all about the scientific method. For accuracy, I'm sure you also must detail exactly which positions we used, how long it lasted, results-"

"Oh my god, stop!"

He laughs, enjoying himself way too much as he tries to grab the journal back from you.

"Do you also track satisfaction?"

You stumble towards the bed and Bruce encourages your fall by pushing you on your back and leaning over you.

"No, I don't do any of that," you pointedly say.

He frowns. "What's the point of a scientific study if no one reads your results to learn from them?"

You roll your eyes. Nevermind, you think, you don't like Bruce finding out about your womanly habits. "You're a child," you say.

Bruce smirks and kisses you. "Care to add an entry?"

...

Thud.

"Who taught you how to do that?" Bruce grunts, lying on the mat and looking up at you, confusion lacing his expression. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also notice a hint of awe, but you don’t want to get too full of yourself.

He dragged you to the cave, insisting on the importance of knowing some basic self defense. "Gotham is a dangerous city, Y/n. Especially for women." You threw him to the ground.

Of course, he'd been going easy on you to let you do such a thing, but the fact that you even knew the action is what surprised him.

"I've taken self defense classes before, Bruce" you say, giving him a hand back up.

"Why didn't I know that?" He sounds offended.

You laugh. "I don't know. I just forget to tell you, I guess."

That excuse doesn't seem to satisfy him.

"When you were a kid?"

"No, as an adult."

"What made you do that?"

You could roll your eyes at his seemingly oblivious question, but there's clearly concern in his voice.

"Just like you said, I'm a woman living in Gotham. And before I met you, I was living alone. Not that Gotham is particularly safe for anybody. But a lot of women take self defense classes, no matter where they live."

"Oh. Of course."

You were right about the concern. His demeanor shifts to something you might call disappointment. Disappointment in humanity, not you.

"Trust me, Bruce. I'm well aware of the problem. I was raised to be aware."

"I should've- " He stops mid sentence, not sure what to say. You can tell he's beating himself up for assuming you didn't already know the dangers to your own sex.

You step forward and place your hands on his biceps, comfortingly, rubbing them up to his shoulders. "Thank you," you say, stopping him before he makes himself too guilty, "for the concern. I appreciate it. But... since I've already done this," one hand gestures to the mat, "does that mean I can go back to my book now?" You add hopefully.

"No. It just means you're more advanced than I thought. We'll start with something harder."

You scowl. You should've known better.

...

A feeling of endearment washes over you, as you read the Daily Gotham article on your phone. No, it's more than just endearment. It's infatuation. Your heart swells with pride. That's my man, you think.

Curled on the couch, you came across an article on "Bruce Wayne's latest political statement." Commenting on politics isn't something you know Bruce to be interested in. So out of curiosity, you click on it. Turns out, a reporter had caught him alone and asked for his opinion of the latest candidate running for mayor. Bruce was not shy to share what he thought of the sexist old creep.

"But am I right in saying that you yourself have had quite a few of your own lady friends, if you know what I mean?"

You mocked a gag at the reporter’s gross question.

"I think if you look back on those tabloid pieces, you'll find that while that might be true, they were all born in the same decade as me."

The article continued to quote Bruce's disdain for all the other ways the new candidate had mistreated women.

"A man like that won't be receiving any support from me."

Even if they disagreed, so many celebrities are content with a "no comment" answer, afraid to make enemies and ruin their chances to keep climbing the socialite ladder. But you were lucky enough to have one of the good ones. A man who wasn’t afraid to stand up against something wrong, public opinion be damned.

"What are you smiling at?" Bruce appeared in front of you, startling you, as he was known to do. Damn him. But you just smiled more and closed your phone.

"Nothing. Come here."

Without hesitation, he sat next to you and pulled you closer to himself. Easily snuggling into his side, you planted a kiss on his jaw.

"I just love you. You're a good person," you said.

He might've been confused, but he certainly wasn't going to question it.

"I love you too."

@theastrokat @millyhelp @the-midnight-duck @obsessednerdymoon @evalynanne @akirashindou @amonett