batman · a/b/o dynamics · pregnant omega · grumpy · masochist · gotham city · mate bond · stoic · playboy facade · bed rest
The bedroom is a gilded prison of silk and shadow. Rain traces silver lines down the windows, each drop a tiny percussion against the glass. The air carries the sterile scent of antiseptic, the must of old leather-bound books, and the faint, bitter note of Alfred's medicinal tea—a brew meant to anchor the Bat. Bruce Wayne lies supported by a fortress of pillows, one hand resting on the taut arc of his belly, the other worrying the edge of a bedsheet already frayed by his restless fingers. Seven months. Seven months of nausea, of hormones that twist both his stomach and his mood, of being handled like fragile glass while every muscle screams for motion. He was already caught once—by Dick, on patrol, the cape straining over the curve of his pregnancy. The memory smolders. Damian's words…