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folk-ever-lore · 2 years

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isekai

Bridgette groaned as she hit the ground. This akuma was taking everything out of her and Chat Noir. It’s powers were like something out of a comic book, perhaps something that one of the Gotham Rogues would have out of the DC comic books.

Bridgette - Ladybug - looked at her partner. “We can’t do this without a bit of luck, can we?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We definitely can’t do this without a lucky charm. I’m betting on a knife this time, M’Lady, you’ve had a spoon and a fork after all.”

“Haha,” she laughed sarcastically. “Very funny. LUCKY CHARM!”

A swirling portal of red and black opened up above them, forming from the miraculous ladybugs.

“Huh? That’s weird. I don’t think anything like that has happened before." Chat Noir said right before two figures, two people , fell to the ground in front of them.

***

Jason and Marinette were on patrol for the night - or rather Red Hood and Ladybird, two of Gotham's many vigilantes were. It wasn’t odd for them to be patrolling together, in fact they almost always patrolled together. The only times they didn’t was when one of them was either injured or needed elsewhere for the night. When they’d first started dating patrolling together it had been a bit weird, but now Gotham was used to seeing their resident ex-crime lord and one of Gotham’s rare Batman accepted metas patrolling together.

They’d just finished stopping a robbery when a red and black swirling circle opened up beneath them. A portal maybe?

They fell through it, falling onto a sidewalk a moment later.

This clearly wasn’t Gotham. The sun was out for starters. Marinette looked around as she stood up to see if there was anything recognisable in the nearby area. Was that the Eiffel Tower? And who were those strange people dressed up like animals?

“What the fuck was that?” Jason asked rather pointedly.

Marinette stared at CatBoy and SpotsGirl, “And who the fuck are they? Paris doesn’t have superheroes.”

CatBoy huffed, “Well obviously Paris does have superheroes. We’re right here. Ladybug and Chat Noir at your service.”

Jason ignored the young ‘supers’, “Are we sure this is actually Paris? It’s too bright, even for the City of Light, and it feels more cartoonish than usual.”

“I noticed that too. The whole place feels off.” Marinette confirmed for her boyfriend partner. “Want me to take a quick fly around to get a better idea of this not-Paris place?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Marinette shot up into the air to survey the area, leaving Jason alone to entertain the kids.

CatBoy - Chat Noir - spoke up, “Who are you? Who’s that?”

“Red Hood. She’s Ladybird.” He said gruffly.

SpotsGirl, he refused to call her Ladybug, snorted, “What? Like the characters from the comics?”

What comics, he mentally asked himself. “No. Like the ex-crime lord and Superman’s daughter.”

“Yeah, as I said,” SpotsGirl laughed, “like the DC comics. Jason Todd and Marinette Kent right?”

“How do yo-”

“Don’t worry,” said SpotsGirl with a reassuring tone to her voice. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of by naming your hero personas after some fictional superheroes. After all, RedBird is like my OTP.”

Marinette floated down from above after finishing her assessment of the city. “Kid, neither me or Hood over there are fictional. We’re real life vigilantes from Gotham.” She spoke gently, taking time to take care of the young girl’s thoughts and feelings.

SpotsGirl shook her head furiously, “Gotham isn’t real. It’s a fictional city in the DCEU. I can prove it, let me google it.”

When the young girl showed the results to the couple they couldn’t believe their eyes. “What the actual fuck?” Jason muttered. “Is this some sort of alternative universe?”

Marinette shrugged, “That would explain a lot of what I saw. This version of Paris still gives off major cartoon vibes.”

Jason groaned, “Just our luck. We go to a universe where our home doesn’t exist.”

“We don’t exist here,” Marinette blanked as the realisation came to her. “We’re fictional here. Ain’t that right kiddo?”

When they got no response they turned to look for the young superheroes. “Where are they?” Jason muttered, “The little shits tell us we aren’t real here only to disappear?”

Marinette shrugged in return, “Well apparently they are the local superheroes around here, maybe they had a villain to fight.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” he replied.

“Want me to fly us to them?”

“If you’re up for it.”

“Seriously Hood?” She lamented, “We got sent to a different universe, I’m not injured.”

“OK then.”

And that was that. It didn’t take them long to find the kids.

As Marinette touched down on the floor Jason couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Turns out they did have to go off to fight a villain.”

“Yeah,” she said, “but WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Marinette gestured to the villain of the day. “And why do they look like a mix between Ivy and the Joker?”

SpotsGirl, who must have noticed the yelling, had made her way over to the Gotham duo. “That’s cause the villain is based on Ivy, Hawky really isn’t the most creative. He’s used one of the same akumas over one hundred times now.”

Jason shrugged, “To be fair to this Hawky, most of the villains in Gotham don’t change their shit up much either.”

“That still doesn’t explain why it kinda looks like the Joker,” Marinette stated.

“Oh, right,” SpotsGirl nodded. “Hawky is either colorblind or makes every akuma ugly in the hopes that it’ll damage our eyes enough that he can steal our miraculous.”

“Honestly, valid. One time when Ladybird was insulting Riddler he just admitted that the green was an attempt to blind us.”

Marinette frowned. It couldn’t be. Could it? “Hey Hood, aren’t the miraculous the names of the weird Green Lantern rings like jewellery in the show Dick watches with Mar’i?”

Jason blinked at her for a few seconds, “Huh. I think you’re right.”

“So we’re fictional here? But in our world SpotsGirl and CatBoy are the fictional ones? You gotta be shitting me.”

“Could you stop calling us that?” SpotsGirl Ladybug asked politely as she fought off one of Joker!Ivy’s plants.

Marinette winced, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Ladybug waved them off. “But some help with the akuma would be nice, if possible.”

“Sure.”

***

“So let me get this straight-” Marinette started before she was cut off.

Jason snorted, “You can’t do anything straight.”

“Well neither can you,” she stuck her tongue out at him. “You’d just broken up with Roy when we met.”

“Yeah, well you had a crush on Cass when we met.”

“Yet I still ended up with you,” she retorted. “Anyway, let me run this bi you, this dude has the butterfly miraculous and he uses it to turn ordinary civilians who are feeling negative emotions into mind controlled supervillains?”

Chat Noir nodded, “Yep, unfortunately. It’s very annoying. The whole city has been held as emotional hostages for years.”

“Years?” Ladybug nodded at Red Hood’s words. “Damn. That’s gonna seriously damage people’s development.”

“It already has,” Ladybug informed the vigilantes, “that’s why we were hoping you could help us for however long you’re trapped here. As we saw earlier you clearly won’t go back with a miraculous cure like all other lucky charms do.”

Marinette and Jason shared a quick glance before agreeing. “Maybe the magic will send us home after he’s been defeated.”

“Hopefully,” Jason agreed with his girlfriend. “But what can you tell us about akumas?”

“We haven’t watched many episodes of your show. Mar’i prefers watching them with Dick.” Marinette states casually.

Ladybug nods, “There’s been many types of akumas in the past. It'd be impossible to name them all, but the Ladyblog should have videos from nearly all of them on.”

It may take all night, maybe more, but Ladybug and Chat Noir start their run down on akumas.

“What do you mean a mime sliced the Eiffel Tower in half?” Marinette demanded, “That's fucking crazy."

“Some pigeon guy was akumatized how many times?” Jason asked.

Chat Noir shrugged, “Honestly, I’m not too sure. I gave up counting after one hundred.”

“You gotta be shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“Santa? Was a villain? Now that just sounds like some sort of crazy cartoon bullshit to me.”

“Well according to you this is a cartoon,” Ladybug huffed.

“I refuse to acknowledge that someone here also weaponized nightmares,” Jason muttered under his breath.

“Also?” Chat Noir inquired.

Marinette nodded sadly, “Scarecrow is a bitch.”

“He definitely was in the comics,” agreed Ladybug, in a cheeky attempt to get back at them for the cartoon comment from earlier.

***

Marinette and Jason had been in Paris for a couple months. Unless there was a major akuma attack they mainly worked behind the scenes in order to figure out how Hawkmoth was. It was helpful to have Marinette fly after the de-evilized butterflies. What that meant was that they were pretty close to having definitely proof on Hawkmoth’s identity.

Which was why it was rather concerning when Bridgette got sick. How were they meant to defeat the supervillain, who they were pretty damn sure was Gabriel Agreste, without their Ladybug?

Adrien was at school when the akuma alert went off which meant he had to find some sort of excuse to get away. But Marinette and Jason had been taking care of a sick Bridgette who was in no state to fight.

“Take them,” Bridgette pulled the earrings from her ears and handed them to Marinette. “You look enough like me to pass as me. Hawky won’t know a thing.”

Marinette gasped, “But they’re yours. I can’t just use them.”

“Yes you can,” the sick girl insisted. “There has to be a Ladybug in order to reverse the damage, and I can’t fight like this. Please Marinette. You have to.”

Marinette groaned, “Just until you’re better. Okay?”

“Okay.”

When she transformed, Marinette’s first course of action was to head towards the akuma attack, because she totally hadn’t missed being in a fight since she’d come to this weird, cartoonish world.

As she ran along rooftops she used her yoyo to message Chat Noir. She figured just sending hi it's ladybird today would be enough. He’d get the message and no one would be able to figure out what it meant.

When Ladybird dropped down, in a suit identical to Ladybug’s, she couldn’t help but grimace at the akuma. “What the FUCK is that color scheme?” She yelled at Reflekta.

The pink clad supervillain stared at the fill in superhero. “Who are you and what have you done with Ladybug?”

Ladybird smirked, “I’m Hawkmoth’s downfall. Who are you?”

Reflekta looked down at Ladybird, “I’m-”

“Well I’m cunning, ultra charming Chat Noir.”

Ladybird snorted, “Sure, kitty, keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey,” he squealed. “I’m charming.”

“Sure.” She nodded over towards Reflekta, “Come on. We have an akuma to defeat.”

***

By the time Bridgette was better they’d got definite proof of Hawkmoth’s identify.

“Sorry Adrien,” Marinette cringed as they met on the Eiffel Tower. “It’s definitely him.”

The boy sighed, “We already knew it was. Now we can stop him.”

“Together?” Bridgette asked tentatively.

“Together,” they all echoed.

***

CRASH!

Ladybird crashed through Hawkmoth’s window, Red Hood in her arms with his guns out. While Ladybug and Chat Noir were fighting against Mr. Pigeon again they were weakening the actual enemy.

“Hi Hawky,” she grinned. “Or should I call you Gabe if that’s easier for you?”

“Who are you?” The supervillain demanded, withdrawing the sword from his cane as he spoke.

“I’m the person who replaced Ladybug the day your akuma asked about Ladybug being replaced, and this is Red Ho-” Marinette glanced down at his sword, “What the fuck, that’s hilarious. That’s like one of those pathetic fencing swords.”

Hawkmoth frowned, “It’s a noble sport.”

Jason laughed as he took a few warming shots, each getting closer to the villain’s head. “Sure it is.” None of the shots before had been intended to hit - when Jason aimed towards the villain’s left leg, he gracefully moved out the way just in time and brought his surprisingly sharp baby sword down on Jason’s arm with a carve to his arch. Blood dripped from Jason’s arm to the floor.

It was all Marinette and her super hearing could hear. Drip, drip, drip. Drip, drip. Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip. Drip. Drip, drip, drip. Although she theoretically knew that Jason had endured much worse, hell he’d even died, that didn't stop her from worrying about him.

Ladybird's eyes glowed red as she glared at him. She desperately wanted to ‘accidentally’ burn some of his face as she delayed for time to give the final duo of their group of four a chance to arrive. “Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t burn your face off right now,” she demanded.

“Because if you kill me all the bombs I have set up in here will go off killing you too,” he informed them with a look of great pride in his face.

Jason snorted, “Been there, done that. Minus ten out of ten, would not recommend dying.”

Marinette ignored her boyfriend’s terrible sense of humour and smirked, “We got Adrien to disable those ages ago. He was more than happy to comply.”

“He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“Actually,” Chat Noir started as he and Ladybug descended from the elevator, “I would definitely betray you.”

“You? What?” Hawkmoth asked, clearly rather confused and frozen in shock. “Adrien?”

“That’s me,” the cat dressed superhero replied as he landed right in front of his father. “I’ll be taking those, thank you very much,” he said as he snatched the remaining miraculous from the man in front.

“For something I’ve been waiting for the past couple of years, that was rather anticlimactic,” Ladybug stated with a hint of laughter, enriching her voice.

“Speak for yourself,” Jason huffed with a slight grin on his face. “But a little healing cure would be rather nice around now. Don’t you think?”

“Course,” Bridgette replied unsteadily as she threw her lucky charm into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

***

Five months. It had been five months since Hawkmoth had been defeated and sent to jail. It had been five months since villains had stopped terrorising Paris on a near daily basis. It had been five months since Bridgette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Lahiffe (formerly Agreste) had said goodbye as their friends flowed red and were transported back to their own dimension.

Although Adrien hadn’t formerly been allowed to read comics, he and his girlfriend Bridgette had been binge reading all the DC comics together. The Red Hood or Ladybird issues were their favourites. But it wasn’t until the latest Ladybird comic came out that they had spotted a small Easter Egg in the background. At the end of the issue Red Hood and Ladybird had clearly retired to their apartment after stopping one of the Joker’s more nefarious plots and they were watching TV.

Or more specifically, they were watching a TV show about Bridgette and Adrien (more Ladybug and Chat Noir but who cares). As they saw themselves in the image, the couple couldn’t help but smile. Their friends remembered them.

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allysunny · 1 month

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I'm the Lucky One

Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Drunk!Fem!Reader

Synopsys: You got a bit too drunk at the club tonight. Luckily, your husband is quick to come to the rescue and take care of you.

Words: 3.2k words

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and being drunk of course, drunken speeches, just a lot of fluff and a bit of crack, reader is mentioned to be quite a bit drunk. Some suggestive themes, cursing and vulgar language (not on Bruce's side). Just a fluffy, funny fic, really.

A/N: Hey everyone!!!! So, I got hammered last night and I was wondering how nice it would be if I had Bruce taking care of me,, so I wrote this. It was hilarious, I got home and got my keyboard and my tablet and just started typing away as I sobered up.

I love this man so much I wish he was the one taking care of me omg... Anyway I hope you guys like this! It's just a small fic, something short, I wanted it to be short and sweet <3

“You’re literally the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”

“Am I, now?”

“You are. Holy fuck. I think I'm in love with you.”

Bruce chuckled softly at your words as he helped you down the stairs of the club you found yourself in. His arm was steadily wrapped around your waist, his other one reaching for the limo door.

It was a lovely night in Gotham, and you had decided to go out with your friends.

“It’ll be fine, Bruce, we’re just celebrating Maggie’s return with a couple of drinks and that’s it. No need to worry,” you had told him, punctuating your statement with a kiss on his cheek. Bruce had believed you. sort of. He'd told Maggie to warn him should you go overboard with the drinks, and two hours later, he was getting a call from her about how you were fucking plastered.

“Are you single, by any chance?” You asked, turning to him with an extremely serious expression. Bruce cocked an eyebrow and held you steadily, both hands on your hips, preventing you from swaying as obviously as you were. “There’s no way you are. You're far too hot. Fuck, you really are one handsome fucker. Look at his jawline – “ You reached to touch his face and Bruce softly caught your hand, bringing it down next to the other one and releasing it once he understood you would not try to touch him again.

“How about we get in the car, huh?” He asked, opening the door before him, and making sure you got in without tripping or falling or hurting yourself – a miraculous feat in itself.

“What a gentleman, holy fuck,” you slurred, shaking your head, “Mister, not only are you the hottest man I've ever seen, you’re also a gentleman. You're the whole package. You know, I think I'm in love with you. I’m so in love with you, it’s actually insane. Holy shit.”

“Well, we have been married for a couple of years. I'd expect you to at least like me.” He replied nonchalantly.

Next to him, your jaw dropped. Your mouth hung wide open, and you blinked repeatedly, staring at the man in front of you. You didn’t seem to notice the car was already in motion, Alfred looking amusedly at you through the front mirror.

“We are?” You asked, blinking a few more times, much to Bruce’s delight.

“We are.”

“We’re married!?”

“For almost three years now. Happiest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The information took a while to settle in your brain. You turned your head comically slow to the side, and stared through the window, Gotham’s city lights blinding and eternal. Then, you turned to him again. There was no way the handsome man before you was your husband, was he? He was wearing a lovely dark blue sweater polo, and dark pants. His hair was combed back, but there seemed to be no product on it. He looked effortlessly perfect, and it was hard for you to just believe he was yours. I mean, how could a man like this belong to you?

Bruce seemed to read your mind, because he took your hand in his and turned it in his palm, showcasing the pretty gold band around your ring finger. Your eyes widened even more as he showed you his own, and you looked from his hand to yours, trying to put the pieces together.

“We are married.”

“We are.”

“Holy fuck. You're my husband.”

“And you’re my wife.” The phrase was said with a soft smile that often accompanied whatever words Bruce said about you – after all, he was whipped.

You stared at him for a while longer, before bringing your hand up to your arm and pinching it.

“Are you sure this isn't a dream?”

“I’m sure. We're here, honey,” he said, looking out of the window. The car ride had felt like an eternity to you, but maybe that was simply because your notion of time was warped. In only a few minutes, Alfred had parked in front of Wayne Manor and Bruce was leaving the limo to help you out.

“C’mon, hold my hand,” he said, extending his arm to you. You looked at him, at his shiny hair and beautiful eyes and giggled like a schoolgirl in live – which was exactly how you felt. You took his hand and did your best to maneuver your way out of the limo. Unfortunately, your head had other plans. You stood up far too quickly and your head began to spin, causing Bruce to hold onto you tighter. He pressed you against him to keep you from falling, but your body swayed from side to side before catching on itself. You tripped and were quite sure that’d be your end, when you felt Bruce’s hands steading you.

“Where are you going?” He joked, turning you to face him. You gazed into his eyes, and he chuckled at the confusion and laziness laced in yours. You had a dazed look to yourself, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed.

“Think you can walk on your own?” Bruce asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.

“Where are we going? Where are you taking me?” You asked, looking around. Once you caught sight of Wayne Manor, you chuckled, pointing at it like an excited child. “There’s no way. That’s where we live? We live in a freaking castle!? Can this day get any better!?”

The man before you just smiled and shook his head. Whatever you’d drunk had worked you up pretty well. He bent over slightly and scooped you up in his arms, earning a giggle out of you.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, swinging your legs slightly, before you realised just how nauseous all the motions made you, and decided to stop. “What're you doing?”

“I’m taking my lovely wife to bed, because she’s unwell.” Was his response as he crossed the threshold of your shared home, Alfred following close behind.

“Should I prepare a bath, Master Wayne?” The butler asked, glancing over at your figure, now far too busy gaping at the magnitude of your home.

“Yes please, Alfred. I'll try to get her out of these clothes.”

“Very well, sir.”

Alfred moved to your shared bedroom, and Bruce followed, albeit slower. He was afraid moving too quickly would cause you to feel sick, and the last thing he wanted, was you vomiting. Not because he didn't want your puke all over his floor or anything – simply because seeing you in pain or discomfort caused him an ache that was too big to even describe.

Once he reached your bedroom, he placed you on top of your shared bed, holding you closely.

“I’m gonna let go of your arms to take off your shoes. Think you can manage not to fall?”

“Why you letting go of me, handsome?” You pouted. It was adorable really, and it took every ounce of control in Bruce’s body not to claim your lips with his own. He wasn't going to take advantage of you, not when you were intoxicated and not thinking straight.

“It’s just for a while. Let's get you out of this dress, okay? And won’t it be nice to take off your shoes?”

“Yeeeeeeeah,” you whined, wiggling your legs in front of him. “They’re hurting me so bad. Why did I choose to wear heels?”

“Well, you said you looked, and I quote, really fucking hot in them.”

“Shit. I bet I did.” You chuckled. For a few seconds, you lost balance and fell backwards on your bed, laughing loudly. Bruce looked at you and just sighed, trying his best to avoid your legs as you kicked and wiggled around, before finally being able to take off your high heel shoes.

“Master Wayne, the Madame's bath is ready,” came Alfred’s voice as he returned from the bathroom.

“Thank you, Alfred. Feel free to retire for the night.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Yeah, I'll take care of her. Just go get some sleep.”

“Very well, then. Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Alfred.”

“Goodnight, miss.”

“Goooooooood niiiiiiiiiight!” You laughed loudly.

“On second thought, could you please get her something to eat? A toast would be nice, something light. I can’t possibly give her medication on an empty stomach.”

“Right away, sir.”

Alfred left the room, and you rolled around on the bed, unknowingly scrambling away from Bruce’s body.

“Honey, please stop moving. The quicker we do this, the quicker you can go to bed. Don't you want that? To get some rest? Get into your comfy pyjamas, get under your blankets?” He tried bargaining with you, but he knew it would be heard in the state you were in. It was like getting a hyperactive child to go to bed.

“Nope,” you popped the “p” with a grin, and quickly sat up, eyeing your husband with a knowing grin. “I want a kiss from you.”

“Bath first. Kisses later.”

“No, kisses now. I want a kiss from my husband. You are my husband, right?”

“I am.”

“Okay then, kiss me.”

“I can’t. You're not feeling well, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.” Bruce explained calmly.

“So, you don’t love me.” The seriousness in your voice stopped Bruce in his tracks. What?

“Honey, I do love you. That’s why I'm telling you to go to sleep. Right now, you need to get some rest. The sooner, the better.”

“You don’t love me,” your lip wobbled almost comically, and large tears welled up in your eyes. Instead of being annoyed, Bruce found it somewhat endearing. He could never find you irritating, no matter what the context was. To him, you’d always be the most important person in the world, no matter how you found yourself. “You don't love me, and you don’t wanna kiss me. Is that it? Is our marriage a fraud? Did you even ever love me?”

“Darling, I do love you. Come on, let’s get you in the tub, is that okay?”

“You don’t love me anymore,” you leaned your head backwards as tears rolled down your cheeks, and Bruce was quick to move next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms. You cuddled against him almost instantly, pressing your face against his neck and wrapping your arms around his middle. Bruce soothed you with soft words of reassurance. Yes, he did love you. Very much. You were the light of his life, and he worried so, so much about you. He never wanted to see you in pain. That was why he was being so bossy, because he just wanted you to feel better. All of this because he loved you immensely.

After a while, you looked up at him, bottom lip jutting out.

“So you love me?”

“Incredibly so.”

“Kiss me?”

“Just once. And then, bath.”

You nodded eagerly, tilting your head upwards and making kissy motions with your lips. Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement and leaned down, giving you a soft peck.

“There. Now, bath.”

“What!? That wasn't a kiss! You barely touched me! I want a real one,” you whined again, pushing away and looking at him with a scandalised expression. “A big one. And then bath. Pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“You’re so lucky I love you,” Bruce mumbled before cupping your cheek and tilting your head upwards so he could kiss you. This time it was longer, his tongue darted out to explore your lower lip and he could still taste the alcohol you’ve had at the club. You melted instantly into his touch, humming, and pulling him closer. However, the moment you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away and tutted.

“No. Time for a bath now. Okay?” Bruce caressed your cheek softly and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“You're a really good kisser. I want one more, c’mon.”

“No, we agreed on one kiss. Now you need a bath. After that, and only if you’re good, I'll kiss you some more. Okay?”

You gave him the dreamiest smile he thinks he’s ever seen, and sat up almost immediately, bringing your hands to your head shortly after. “'s spinning…” you mumbled.

“I know, honey. Let me take care of you, alright?”

“Alright.”

Bruce picked you up in his arms once again and brought you to the en-suite bathroom. he sat you down on top of the toilet lid, carefully helping you remove your dress and underwear and pressing kisses against the exposed skin every so often to make you smile. After you were naked, he removed your makeup and helped you inside the bathtub, where you laid back and sighed in relief. Bruce was quite sure you were getting to the drowsy state of your drunkenness, so he didn't force you to talk or tire yourself out even more. All he wanted was for you to feel good.

He helped you bathe, lathering up soap and rubbing soothing circles on your arms, legs and whole body so you could wash the day off you. Once he started washing your thighs, you turned your head to him and gave him a cheeky smile, to which he replied, “Not tonight, you need to rest”, and that was the end of it. This handsome man who happened to be a really good kisser (and apparently your husband) seemed to know what he was doing, so no matter how much you wanted him to touch you somewhere else, you’d agree with what he was saying. After all, he was right, you were already feeling much better.

Once you were done, Bruce wrapped you around in a fluffy towel, carefully drying you off. The fluffy fabric was soft against your skin, and you smiled as Bruce applied body lotion on your body. Even if you were tired and couldn't do it yourself, he would always do it for you. He did promise you forever, in sickness and in health. And he supposes in intoxication and sobriety as well.

When he sat you back down on your bed, you were wearing your pajamas and your eyes were threatening to close.

“How about you stay here while I get something for you to drink?” He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You frowned. Why was he leaving? And why was he getting you a drink? You didn't want any drinks. Drinks had made you feel like this. You wanted the handsome man to kiss you some more. Fuck, he really was a good kisser. Maybe you could convince him to kiss you in your –

“Honey? You hear me?”

“Why are you going? Don’t go. I don’t want any drinks. My stomach is hurting,” you chided softly.

“I’m getting you something for your stomach, okay? It'll make you feel better. Do you trust me?”

“I do. I think I trust you with all my life, you know. You've been so kind to me.”

Bruce smiled at your words and kissed the top of your head, whispering “I’ll be right back”.

Almost as if on cue, Alfred knocked on the door of your shared bedroom and walked in after Bruce opened it for him. He handed the Wayne heir a small plate and offered you a sympathetic smile before leaving the room.

“Hey honey, think you can eat some of this?” Bruce asked, returning to your side.

You looked at the plate in front of you and at the sheets in your bed.

“I'm not gonna eat in bed.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just wash the sheets later.”

“No, that’s – ewwww! No, I don’t wanna eat in bed. C'mon, help me up.”

Bruce only had a few seconds to remove the plate from in front of you when you threw the covers back and tried to stand up on your own, failing miserably and having to clutch onto his arm.

“I’ll do it there,” you pointed towards your vanity and Bruce nodded. He'd always comply.

Once you sat down and busied yourself with your toast, Bruce hurried towards the bathroom. He prepared a glass of water and some pain relievers to prevent a potential headache. Once he returned, you were already up on wobbly legs, doing your best to make it to the bathroom bu yourself.

“Hey – hey,” Bruce put down the glass and pill, immediately rushing for you. “Why are you up?”

“Look, you’re super fine and I totally wanna do you,” you slurred, “But you’re helping me far too much and I don’t wanna bother you. You've been like a babysitter, and I'm not a baby, and I can walk on my own because I am a strong independent woman, and I don’t need your super strong arms to carry me, even though I really like it when you do that because you’re so hot. I’ll walk on my own.”

Bruce smiled at your words. You'd always been one to dote on him and compliment him. He was used to flattery, sure, but he always knew you meant every word you said, they weren't just empty phrases to get you on his good graces. He brought you closer by the waist and caressed your cheek.

“I know you’re a strong independent woman.”

“I am.”

“And I know you can do it by yourself.”

“I can. I can do it by myself.”

“I know. But let me help you.” He kissed you softly and you sighed against his lips. There was really no argument here, was it? It wasn't a hard choice. You let Bruce help you as you walked towards the bathroom. He turned around while you peed (not like he hadn't seen you like that before, he just wanted to give you some privacy), and steadied you while you washed your hands and made your way back to bed.

Once you were comfortably sitting down (again), he brought the glass of water and the pill to you, which you took with no complaints.

“There’s my lovely girl. It’ll help you feel better in the morning.”

“Okay,” you nodded, placing the glass on the bedside table next to you. “Are you gonna go now?”

“Why would I? I'm going to bed too.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Here.”

“We sleep together? In the same bed?”

Bruce walked around the bed so he could lay down on his side, and you followed suit, although much slower.

“Every night.”

You sighed and turned to face him, a silly smile playing on your lips as your eyes fluttered close.

“I can’t believe I'm this lucky. I'm married to a really hot gentleman, my house is super big, and I get to sleep with you every night. This is the dream.”

Bruce chuckled and wrapped one arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. And something in your subconscious mind must’ve recognised his touch because you molded yourself against him, leg wrapping around his waist and head resting just under his chin. You mumbled something incoherent under your breath and were out within seconds.

Bruce could only smile. He knew tomorrow morning you might have the worst of headaches, of nauseas, and he would be more than happy to spend his day catering to you, holding back your hair if you puked, and nursing you back to full health. You were the love of his life, and you’d already done so much for him, bringing life and colour back to his once bleak existence, teaching him what true love was like, and turning his house into a home, a safe space he could always return to.

He pressed a kiss on top of your head and squeezed you tighter, whispering four words in the quiet night.

“I’m the lucky one.”

A/N: And that's it!! I hope you guys enjoyed this. I love this man so much, I wish it was him taking care of me instead of myself. Would not have tripped and swayed so much yesterday if I had his strong arms around me fr. Anyway, I love alcohol, I have zero regrets and I even got to write a Bruce fic. Win-win!

Have an amazing day, y'all!!! <3

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