Bruce Wayne X Ex Wife Reader - Tumblr Posts

A/N: I think you guys liked this blurb so I’ll make you another. But also please check out my fanbook, the art is so pretty.

You can see the options here!

Part 1 Here! / This is Part 2 / Part 3 Here! / part 4 Here!

Anyway, thinking about Ex-wife bat mom who wanted to leave her marriage behind but never wanted to leave the kids, and wanted to stay involved, but she couldn’t because Bruce didn’t really want her around his family and so she resigns herself to watching them from the tabloids and social media posts, and is only able to reconnect with her oldest children when they turn 18.

You’re smiling as you enters the elevator at your apartment building, there’s a paper bag in your hand from the grocery store with some new cereal brand you think Dick might like, and a Times magazine Barbara would want.

“What floor?” your elevator companion asks, and taking a glance at him for the first time you’re taken aback.

He looks so much like Jason.

Noticing you’ve been quiet for too long, you clearly your throat, and feign contemplation. “Um, 12 please.”

“Penthouse, nice.” The stranger remarks.

“It’s overrated.” The penthouse suite Bruce let you have in the divorce is little consolation for all the weekends you could have seen your kids.

You both stand in silence, and you try not to make your long glances too obvious. If Jason was still here he’d probably be just as old as the boy standing next to you. You can’t imagine practical Jason Todd with a tattoo wrapped around his neck like that though, maybe one of those hearts with ‘Mom’ written inside them if he was trying to stick it to Bruce.

“Is there something on my face?” the stranger asks. You feel heat rise to your face, you can’t believe he caught you staring.

“Oh it’s nothing, you just um, you look like my son.” You give an awkward laugh, and the universe must feel pity for you because the elevator doors slide open. There’s an awkward laugh on the tip of your tongue, a farewell, but a large hand stops the elevator door at the last minute. The stranger’s gaze flickers from you to the ground, his mouth trembling.

“Ma, it’s me,” your heart stops in your chest. “It’s Jason.”

The paper bag crashes to the ground, and before you can even doubt what he’s said, before you can consider that this man is a con artist or a grifter who’s stalked you, you wrap your arms around him.

Your face is in his neck, he’s so much taller than you now, and when you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek your lips graze against a spot on his tattoo where the word ‘Mom’ can be seen hidden in the design.

You usher him into the apartment, scooping the bag with the creased magazine and center cereal box, plucking tea and cookies from the cabinet.

“I wasn’t going to approach you, and I don’t want anything from you,” he promises. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

You have to turn away from him to hide the tears from forming in your eyes. It’s really Jason. Your Jason.

“It’s okay Jason, I know you’re a good boy.” Even dressed in a leather jacket with a suspicious bulge on the bag of his trousers at the waist band, you know his hearts always been in the right place.

“You divorced Bruce?” He asks, and you nod. Pouring tea into two matching cups.

“Was it because of me?”

It’s a question you’ve never anticipated, or thought to ask yourself.

“No,” you decide. “We had the same problems before you…before you went away.” Jason dying just made them more apparent. The way Bruce would never let you in, not even in your grief. The way you or your children would always be second to the city he devoted his life to bettering.

The way he hated himself for being the way he is, and the way you being near him made it worse.

Jason nods, thanking you for the glass of tea. There’s a lopsided smile arched on his mouth as he takes a deep breath in.

“This is my favorite,” he tells you.

You smile back. All these years later and he still loves earl grey, he even adds a generous amount of milk and sugar, and for a second it feels like he’s still that 12 year old boy and nothing has changed at all.

“I’m glad you’re back.”