DC Comics X Reader Oneshots and series

Batfam X Batmom!Reader- Protectiveness

Taking cover behind a fallen metal crate, you barely dodged the thousands of rounds of bullets that aimed at you. Your black cape was not so lucky, the bottom was shredded by the bullets beyond recognition. Whipping out two batarangs, you jumped to the next crate and threw them at two of the guns aimed at you, making them useless.

"Only three more remaining, (Y/H/NH)," Damian stated, landing next to you. "Those buffoons will be distracted by Nightwing and Black Bat in one minute, then we'll strike."

"Good to know I'm in the loop," you grunted, clasping your arm as you scooched away from the edge. "Dammit."

"What is it?" he asked, looking over to your arm.

"I'm fine," you reassured him, ripping a ruined piece of your cape off and tieing it around your wound. "Let's get this over with and we'll finish watching Jurassic Park."

Damian smirked, pulling out his grappling hook, "Shall we?"

You nodded, grabbing your own, "We shall."

Once the bullets were redirected away from you, you and Damian quickly shot your grappling hooks, soaring to the three men who armed the guns. Your eyes widened as you saw one of them turn to you, aiming the gun at Damian.

"Look out!" you screamed, pushing Damian out of the way.

As soon as you felt the bullets tear through your body, you lost your grip on the grappling hook. Screams and shouts from your family could be heard as you fell to the ground, taking out the gunmen as fast as they could to reach you safely. You didn't know when you landed on the concrete floor, the overwhelming pain clouded your every thought. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't move your arms to cover your wounds.

"(Y/N)," Bruce said, landing next to you.

You tried to reply, but blood had filled your mouth, incoherent noises escaping from you. More members of your family landed next to you, frantically contacting Alfred to send in the Bat Wing. You shut your eyes, the sounds of their shouts slowly fading away as you finally lost consciousness.

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"I can go to the bathroom by myself!" you grumbled, watching your sons fuss over nothing.

"What if you fell?" Damian questioned you, opening the bathroom door. "You would injure yourself even more."

"I'm in a wheelchair," you deadpanned, "and your father is the one who is supposed to help me with this, not you."

"Bruce is busy," Dick said from behind you, gripping the handles to the wheelchair, "and we're the only ones home."

"You can't blame us for worrying," Jason said, leaning up against the wall, "you flatlined on us a couple times. Things like that scare people."

"We just want to make sure you're safe," Tim stated. "You mean a lot to us."

"I know that, but please tone down the protectiveness down a bit," you said, rubbing your eyes. "Now can I go to the bathroom?"

The boys nodded and Dick wheeled you into the bathroom, shutting the door. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you looked up to Dick.

"I know I'm your mother figure, but I think this is too much. I can do this myself," you informed him, gesturing to the bar on the wall. "There's a bar on the wall for a reason."

"I'm just wheeling you to the toilet," he said, parking the wheelchair. "Give them some slack, they're only doing what they think is best for you."

"I know that, Dick, but it's a little infuriating when they think I can't go to the bathroom on my own," you huffed, pressing a switch to collapse one of the arm rests on the wheelchair. "It has been two weeks since the accident and it's just-"

"Frustrating?" Dick asked, receiving a nod from you. "Okay, how about you go to the bathroom and then we do something fun. Maybe we could watch a movie or play a board game or something."

"We both know a board game will do more harm than good," you sighed, rubbing your eye.

"I actually bought this new game," Dick started, "where you put this thing in your mouth and you have to read a sentence. Then your partner tries to guess what you're saying."

You pondered for a moment, thinking of every scenario that could result in a fight, "Fine, but if anyone tries to stab someone the game is over."

"I'll take away Damian and Jason's knives before we start."

-----------------------

"How was your time with the boys?" Bruce asked, climbing into bed.

"Tiring," you answered, snuggling closer to him. "They were freaking out over every little thing I did."

"Next time I'll stay home," he mumbled, gently wrapping his arms around you.

"You better," you yawned, grasping his hand. "The boys established a new family game."

"Should I be worried?"

"Only the amount of spit that's involved in the game," you chuckled, recalling when Damian accidentally spat out the mouthpiece while talking. "You should join in the next time we play."

"Maybe I will."

"You're playing."

"As you wish, Darling."