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ktficworld · 8 months

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Lies and Lavish

Chapter 1: introduction

Pairing: soft dark! Andy Barber x reader, soft dark! Steve Rogers x reader, soft dark! Clark Kent x reader, soft dark! Bucky x reader, soft dark! Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You finally pull your head out of your studies and go to your long time friend's wedding to relax. And it's going to be alright, even if the infamous five brothers tend to linger around you a little too long, even when you share a past with one of them, even if their darkness is slowly approaching you. It's going to be okay, right?

Warnings: angst, mutual pining, manhandling, violence (by reader)

A/n: phew, it's finally here. Let me know what you think and please reblog it. It give ke motivation.

The wind whistled in the air mingling with the horns and roars of the cars, more expensive than your soul.

You sighed at the gigantic iron gate before you as the straps of your backpack dug into your shoulder. You were really second guessing your visit but the thought of your friend made you shake your head. After all, it was your childhood best friend wedding, even if it was to Ransom Drysdale. How did she managed to win that throttle? You would never know. But then again, not everybody's life revolved around school and sleep.

You glanced at the two additional bags you brought. Your backpack had essentials and your books. Even though, you came to relax, you'd still squeeze in some study. Business was no easy major and your finals were four months away.

You gripped your trolley bags and meekly shuffled towards the gate and entered the Drysdale estate through a smaller door-like gate. You sighed and looked around for any worker or someone who could help you with this maze.

Honk.

You jumped, clutching your racing heart as the loud noise pulled you out of your reverie. You began turning your head to glare at the motherfucker who almost gave you a heart attack, when an oh-so familiar voice called out your name.

"Luna! Come here."

You caught a glimpse of a Rolls Royce with a familiar sticker before you turned to beam at your friend, Alaïa. She waved at you with a megawatt smile and you thanked your lucky stars for working today as you dragged the bags and yourself towards her.

"Hi Alaïa, oh god! I can't believe you are getting married. Congratulations!" You said while intertwining your hands with hers, bouncing giddily.

"Thanks sis and gimme this," She pulled the bag off from your shoulders and deposited it on the nearby trolley bag. She glanced around and beckoned someone to where you were standing. "Leo, can you put these bags in the guest room I set up. Thank you." She politely ordered and off went your bags.

"Wow, Alaïa. You're living like a queen, huh?" You said, distracted by the large man taking away your luggage.

"Well, perks of marrying a rich man."

At that your smile faltered. You gradually dragged your gaze back to her. "Listen, Alaïa, you know I don't beat around the bush so I'm just gonna ask you. Are you okay with Ransom bringing more wives in the future?"

That was the new normal now. Apparently, 50 percent divorce rate was too alarming for the governments around the world. Add the loneliness statistics and now getting a divorce was nearly impossible. However, those who had the money to keep multiple partners, were allowed. Yes, polygamy was now legal. But the financially dependent partner had no say in this arrangement and that was why you feared for Alaïa.

Alaïa grimaced. "I know you're blunt. But you don't have to put it like that and don't worry. Ransom has promised to stay with me and only me."

They meant nothing. You were promised too. "But Alaïa, people change. What if he just said that to trap you? What will you do when he brings home some bimbo twenty years younger than him?"

People do change sometimes, even overnight. Or maybe they just hide their true face so perfectly that you couldn't see past those roses and sweet nothings.

Alaïa's lips tugged upwards into a half, bitter smile. "You think I'm a gold digger, don't ya?"

You gasped at the accusation. "God, no. And even if you were a gold digger, there's nothing wrong with it in this economy. The golden days are long gone. I'm just concerned about you, Alaïa."

"Hmmm, I know you only want the best for me. And I was just teasing you. I have signed the open marriage arrangement."

You heaved a sigh of relief but couldn't help thinking that somebody had definitely shamed her with that tag. "You scared me. It's great Ransom offered you that. Maybe, he is actually really committed to you." There were men and women who would allow the courtesy of an open marriage to their financially dependent partner, in case they marry again. So, if Ransom was really risking his fragile male ego, then he really meant it in your opinion.

"Yeah, maybe we can find you a committed one or two here. Look, their eyes are already wandering over you." She said with way too much enthusiasm and pointed behind you where few men were eyeing you with interest.

You whipped your head back to your friend, now accompanied with a sharp glare. "Absolutely not! I don't plan on marrying. Ever. And especially not to those dogs lolling their tongue."

Alaïa laughed at your little outburst and hooked her arm with yours. "I'm joking. Now, come on. Let's get you to Harlan." And began leading you inside the mansion.

But you planted your feet on the ground, causing her to stagger back to you. "Why would I meet Harlan?" You asked, bewildered.

She looked at you sheepishly. "I may have bragged about your writing and business skills way too much. Because as soon as I said you were coming today, he instructed me to bring you straight to his office."

What did your friend tell him that Harlan Thrombey wanted to meet you? And not just meet you but meet you straight away? It annoyed you nonetheless. "Alaïa, but-"

"No if and buts. You are going to the office right now." She declared and dragged your whining body with her.

"Harlan, look who's here." Alaïa announced as she pushed open the large doors.

You stood beside her and smiled at Harlan when his eyes lit up. "Oh, Luna. Welcome dear. I have heard a lot about you." He said with a good-natured smile.

"I don't know what she has told you but I'm definitely not what you think." You said, stepping towards him.

Harlan huffed out a chuckle. "I call it nonsense. I have seen you work, I have seen your articles. You are an asset to have-"

"How are you doing, Harlan?" A dark baritone voice called from behind as the doors flung open, sending shivers down your spine.

You gazed back and your breath hitched in your throat. In walked The Five Brothers, the richest and most dangerous people in the world. If one percent of the world's population ruled the 99 percent, then they ruled the hundred percent of it. They had unimaginable power, both legally and illegally.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company." The eldest, Andy Barber said. You didn't catch the intrigue in his voice.

Because among them was him. He was the last one to come in, your eyes locked for a second and an emotion you couldn't decipher passed through his eyes before he completely disregarded you and returned to his nonchalant attitude.

And why would he care? You meant nothing to him. Or he wouldn't have left the way he did. It was just a second of eye contact but for you it felt like eternity as the bittersweet memories flashed before your eyes. They were tainted by the black cloud of reality but for you, they meant everything. Because even if you were a mere lay for him. You liked that bastard. Loved even, if you allowed yourself that pain.

"Luna, I didn't know he'd come. I'm sorry." Alaïa said but you were already too out of your mind to care about her words.

You were drowning. Drowning in pain, in the memories, in the abandonment after swearing to never love, seeing your parents example. Only to open your heart to that asshole and have it smashed into a billion pieces.

Your lungs were bursting and tears were prickling your eyes. You didn't want to cry over that fucker, never, not again. But your breath was already coming out in short puffs and it was getting difficult to remain discreet. You were going to cry, you couldn't help it.

"Harlan, my head is hurting like crazy. I think coming here in this scorching heat caused it. Can we talk at night?" You blurted out as you released a shuddery breath, unshed tears bluring your vision.

Harlan's eyes softened and he gave you a compassionate smile. "Of course, dear. Take care of yourself."

You nodded with a wry smile and turned to leave. Attempting to bypass the large men that had engulfed the entire study.

There was no furniture at the door, no plants but you still gasped as your feet hit something, disbalancing you as you fell. However, before you could fall, a pair of strong arms caught you. You knew who caught you, you knew that scent too well. You looked up to glare at him. He made you fall.

"Woah, babe. I know women fall head over heels for me but I didn't mean it literally." He chuckled and you screwed your eyes shut to stop yourself from slapping the fuck out of him.

"Maybe you are way too sick. Should I escort you to your room?" He said and you snapped your gazes up at him.

You wanted to squirm out of his hold. Maybe stomp on his feet. You wanted to run away but the bruising grip around your waist didn't allow you the courtesy. His signet ring digging into your skin, as if pleading to agree, to hear whatever he wanted to say or do.

"Please." You whispered, you didn't know what you were asking. To tell you the truth and finally give you closure or to not break your heart again.

You squealed as he collected you in his arms. Promptly trapping you.

"Yeah, Bruce just go and drop her. Don't mess around here, okay." Andy said with a sigh.

"Of course, brother. Why would I do that now?" Bruce said with feigned innocence, causing all of his brothers to scoff.

He turned to Alaïa and stared at her expectantly. "Oh, third floor, last room on the left side." She hastily informed.

He nodded with his charming smile and dashed out the door. But you knew he wasn't taking you to your room.

"Bruce put me down." You said with calm firmness. Finally getting a hold of your emotions.

"No." He said with an attitude as he marched up the stairs, the forcing rocking you hard in his arms as you clutched his shoulders.

"Bruce, I said let me go and don't give me that attitude."

No answer.

"BRUCE LET ME DOWN." You were suddenly pushed into a dark corridor. His entire weight pinned you down to keep you from squirming away.

His head whipped to the right side, inky hair cascading over his forehead as your slap echoed in the hollow corridor. He did not move his head, did not bat an eye, hell! He looked like he wasn't even breathing.

You snapped his face to the left as you hit him again and again. You knew it was wrong. You knew he wasn't feeling more than a pat on his cheeks as you were no match for his strength but you still did it. Once, twice, thrice. You did it till tears rolling down your cheeks blurred your vision, till your hands hurt and shook, till they were covered by larger ones.

You wanted to cry on his shoulder, like how you did when you didn't get the expected result but you refrained from it. And leaned against the wall instead.

"Want to hit me again? Go ahead." Bruce whispered, his thumbs soothing your aching palms. There was emotion in his voice now, the care that he lacked before.

"You left," You said through sobs. "You left after we lost our virginity together!"

"I did. But I never wanted to leave you. I had to." He replied, his voice cracking in the end.

"That is not a good fucking excuse, Bruce Wayne." You bit back and tried to wriggle out of his hold but you were further pressed into the fall when he caught onto your escape plan.

"I'm not making any excuses Luna. I had no choice, we had no choice! They were so close to uncovering our identity. We would have been done for."

"Who they? What they? Bruce do you seriously give this explanation to every single woman you fuck and abandon? When you take their virginity or sack a married woman? You are a pathetic excuse of a man, Bruce." You were just his practice. Someone he lost his virginity to, nothing more, nothing less. You were done. You didn't want any closure, any explanation if this was what you were getting. You wanted him out of your sight and life. Even if it meant leaving your best friend's wedding.

"I swear on my dead mother's grave I didn't want to leave, Luna!" Bruce roared and you finally halted, coming down from your hysteria. You looked at him as you both heaved.

He swore on his mother. The mother who he loved dearly. Who was kicked out on the streets with his other four brothers by their father and mistress, throwing them out of the life of luxury to beg on the streets. The one who died in front of him in a car accident when he was just eight.

Bruce told you all this when he was too drunk or too sleepy to care. So you weren't relying on gossip here.

Now you listened to him as he took a deep breath. "Do you think I like it? Moving from one place to another on a day's notice? Working minimum wage jobs even though we were far more capable? Changing identities like clothes? Do you think we liked living in fear? I had a red dot on my forehead, Luna. Heck! Maybe I still do and when I say I didn't have the time to even say goodbye, I mean it. And no, I didn't sleep with married women, didn't take anyone's virginity. All hook ups were consensual and I don't give anyone any excuse or explanation."

"Is this really the truth?" You asked, exhausted and relaxed at the same time.

"It is, Luna. I never wanted to leave you. I-missed you." He whispered and gingerly touched his forehead with yours and when you didn't jerk away, he released a shuddery breath.

"I don't forgive you." You whispered back, touching his stubbled jaw. God, his warmth, he still used that aftershave. It brought back so many memories.

"You don't have to."

"Are you asking for it?"

"Yes."

To your dismay, a hope bloomed in your heart that maybe, you would be able to forgive him with time and rekindle the unsaid. However, you quickly crushed that desire. You were worlds apart now. You were still grinding your ass to study and get a good job while he was one of the richest men in the world. You didn't belong here. He did.

You slid your head from his forehead to his chest as he buried his head into your hair. You let a few more tears fall off your eyes as a pang of headache hit you. It was great while it lasted.

"Bruce-oh! You know her?" A surprised voice startled you as Bruce tensed underneath your hold.

He sucked in a deep breath and whirled around so quickly it gave you whiplash, his tall stature shielding you completely. "And now why would I tell you, shorty? Were you stalking me?" He said with a sardonic smirk as you gaped at him.

This was not the sensible, careful and vulnerable Bruce. This was the rude, condescending and arrogant rich asshole everybody knew him as. Granted he always had a bad temper with an even worse mouth but this was not him. Maybe he changed overtime.

Bucky didn't even bat an eye over his height's judgement and said. "No, I wasn't stalking you. You were taking too long so Steve told me to check if you were behaving. Now who is she?" Bucky's mouth also turned upwards, his almost green eyes twinkling with mischief as his chocolate hair fell over his forehead. Even if Bucky was on the shorter side, it did nothing to deter his beauty.

Your thoughts were interpreted by the loud snort of Bruce. "Come on, Buck. You are becoming such a pet of our Stevie. I don't know what treats he gives you but they sure look worth it. And as for her?" Bruce turned to you, head cocked with a raised eyebrow.

You sidestepped Bruce and came face to face with Bucky. You told him your name. "People call me Luna, I'm his friend from college."

Bucky let out a breathy chuckle. "Honey, he changed colleges like clothes. You'd have to be more specific."

"Very first college, Buck. You know." Bruce said nonchalantly and your head snapped to glare at him. You were half upset when you thought his brothers didn't know about you but as Bucky's flicked over you and your cheeks heated up. You wanted them to forget about you.

You glanced at Bucky with an awkward smile as realisation dawned on him and his mouth curved in a o shape. He stuck out his hand for you with a warm smile. "Don't worry, doll face. Only I and Bruce know about you and his… friendship." You shook it.

"Bruce, I didn't know she was such a beauty. You should have told us. We would have taken her with us." You and Bucky laughed. However, Bruce only narrowed his eyes and his jaw ticked.

"I should escort her to her room." Bucky said.

"But that's my duty."

"No, Harlan wants to discuss AI so he needs you. Plus, I have a message to deliver to, doll face."

Bruce huffed and nodded reluctantly. All three of you went to the stairs before diverging. However, you still felt Bruce's eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and found him looking longingly at you. You gave him a smile before he disappeared down the stairs.

"So what is the message you have to deliver, Mr. Barnes?" You ask in a whisper.

Bucky suddenly hooked his arm in your and pulled you towards him, making your breath hitch at the closeness as his heady scent made you dizzy.

"It's Bucky Alaïa wants you to meet her in the garden at 5. She wants you to meet Ransom." He whispered back in your ear and you gulped as it sounded like a dark lullaby to your brain.

"O-okay." You stammeredq out as your room finally arrived.

"Bye, bye, doll face." Bucky rasped close to your face and you were almost disappointed that you arrived so quickly.

Now that Bucky had left, his words registered in your brain. Why the fuck did Alaïa want you to meet Ransom? Was she planning on making you a mistress? You should really stop reading those reddit stories.

You dressed into a black, long dress after taking a nice shower and scrubbing away all the dirt and sweat. After shower feeling was the best feeling.

You gilded down the stairs, stepping into the bustling living room. You promptly avoided all of the people and made a beeline for the door leading to the garden. But you stumbled forward, almost falling to the ground as someone had just stepped on your dress. Perfect!

You turned around and your scathing words died an untimely death on your tongue as your eyes landed on the burly man. A phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as his brows were furrowed in concentration and frustration, his pink lips jutting out as his blonde hair made his blue eyes shine even brighter.

Steve Rogers. Even if he looked a tid bit more approachable than his twin, he still wasn't someone to mess with. And if you cussed at him, well then you could say goodbye to your career.

You sighed and tentatively stepped closer to him. Gingerly, you touched his bicep.

"Hey, stay away from him!" A coarse, deep voice thundered, making you shriek away from Steve as it left you shaking with fear.

This caught Steve's attention as he looked at you and then at his right. "Clark, where are your manners? Yelling at a lady? And for no reason?"

Clark hissed but you weren't able to look at him. "Shit, brother. I wasn't yelling at her. The man behind you, he has a knife."

You furrowed your brows and turned behind to a worker holding a knife with a deer caught in headlights look.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him as he quickly stuttered out. "This is to open a package." And tossed the knife to a nearby worker who disappeared to the storage room.

Steve sighed heavily. "Clark, I can defend myself, you know that right? Why do you overreact so much? And did you not see her?" And pointed at you.

Clark replied after a beat of silence. "I genuinely didn't. I'm sorry…" He started walking towards you but you only recoiled into Steve with each step he took.

You didn't want his apology, at least not right now. You were far too shaken to think coherently.

Steve sighed and coiled an arm around your clinging form and caressed your side. "Clark, not right now. She's far too shaken up to not cry or scream at you. Try again, later."

"But, brother-"

"Leave." He said through gritted teeth.

Clark's footsteps faded away as you involuntarily hid in his chest, his earthy scent grounding you as he shushed you. "Hey, doll. It's okay, it's alright. He won't hurt you, no one would. It was just a misunderstanding, stop shaking babydoll." He cooed.

His soft deep voice relaxed you but as soon as the fear was gone, embarrassment burnt your cheeks as you stepped away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… " You rasped. Did you just rub yourself on The Steve Rogers like a needy kitten?

"Don't say that, doll. My brother caused it so I must fix it."

"Thank you and-" You yelped as you descended down the floor. His foot was still on your dress. Great!

You braced yourself for the impact but bounced in two strong arms as your hands flew to his forearms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was standing on your dress." He said when you snapped your eyes open.

You were swimming in his blue gaze of concern and sincerity. "Yeah, that's what I was trying to say."

"What's your name, doll? Hmmm?" He asked after brought you back to your feet. Your eyes fluttered as his knuckles ran softly over your cheek.

You told him your name.

"Doll is much better, suits you well. Where were you going, anyway?" He quietly asked.

"I-um, I was going to meet Ransom."

"Oh, I was going to meet him as well. Let's go together."

"No, thank you." You politely declined.

"Come with me." He said and dragged you towards the garden.

You talked with Ransom till seven, he wasn't at all like the media projected him. Maybe he changed for Alaïa as he was really committed and determined to do things right. They had your blessings to put your feelings into words.

After Steve dragged you to the garden. He was courteous enough to let you talk to your friend and Ransom privately before he joined.

Then you went to finally meet Harlan and had the overdue talk. He wanted to discuss the latest trends in the writing industry and how to incorporate it in his company's branding. So, that it could appeal to younger audience.

It was a long and draining conversation and you deeply sighed, leaning against the wooden door of Harlan's office. You were finally going to the garden, which you wanted to revisit since you stepped foot in it.

"Miss?"

You gasped at the voice and started for the stairs but Clark's body blocked your path, pushing you against the door.

"I didn't want to scare you." He said, genuinely remorseful.

"You are doing that right now." You snapped and he put up his hands in surrender.

"It's not intentional, I swear."

It might not be. The brothers were tall, except Bucky but Clark was a beast. His biceps were larger than your hand and he practically dwarfed you with his sheer shadow. His eyes were also blue but they had a brown sprinkled in them. He had a little beard with a moustache that made him look even more intimidating and sexy. You had never seen a man who looked this sexy in a moustache.

"Well then be more mindful." You bit back.

He nodded and snaked his hand behind him and pulled out a rose. And not just any rose but a black rose. Where he found it you had no idea but it mesmerized you nonetheless. It was something you had only seen on television and seeing it in real life left you agape.

He offered the rose to you. "I'm sorry, princess." He whispered, the nickname heating up your cheeks.

You gingerly took the rose and let a giddy smile tug on your lips. "Okay, I forgive you. Just remember you are way bigger and stronger than most people. Use your strength wisely." He nodded with a bunny smile and you smiled back before heading to the garden.

You loudly and walked into the garden in peace. Walking in the open at night was another level of tranquillity that you didn't get very often, thanks to your dorm in the concrete jungle.

You twirled the rose in your hand, halting at nearby flowers. You bit your lips wanting to pluck some and put them in a vase. Even though they wouldn't last forever, the contrast would still look appealing.

But you didn't have the permission of any of the Drysdale.

"Couldn't sleep?" A dark baritone voice said from behind.

You flinched and turned around to be greeted by Andy Barber, wearing a simple white tee and sweats. A silver chain peeking through the collar as a smirk danced across his bearded cheeks.

"Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Barber."

"The feeling is mutual, miss. How's your headache now?" He raised a brow.

You told him your name and nickname. "And it's much better now, thanks for asking."

"Hmmm, Luna, so fitting for the person and the setting," He erased the distance between you two in two long strides and glanced at you. "I couldn't blame you. The night is beautiful."

"But the garden is even more beautiful." You said as he glanced at you.

"Indeed."

"I don't get to dwell in the greenery much." You resumed your walking.

"How so?" He followed.

"It's just study, sleep and sometimes relax for me."

"What are you studying?"

"Business, last year."

"Internship."

"Freelance." You said with a shake of your head. Andy somehow liked your presence and so did you. He was like the ocean.

"And won't you ask me about my work?" He teased as you were back behind the bushes of colourful roses.

"I know everything about that, Mr. Barber."

"It's Andy, darling," He said and only then did you notice the distance, or lack thereof between you and him. "And so confident about it, darling?"

You swallowed through your smile. "Well, everybody knows about how your work is going. So I'm pretty confident."

He chuckled. "I like it. Tell me more."

You resisted the urge to narrow your eyes as he seemed way too interested in a mere student and you have also grown tired.

"A black rose?" He voiced suddenly, lifting your hand to examine the item.

"Yes, isn't it unique?"

"That it is. Who gave you this?" He demanded softly.

You hesitated before speaking. "Mr. Kent."

"Who?" Andy asked as if you had told him the answer to the Bermuda Triangle mystery.

"Mr. Kent " You squealed as his thumb brushed the underside of your hand.

"Why?"

"Because he accidentally scared me by screaming."

He huffed out a chuckle. "Typical of Clark," He walked closer to you, ceasing the distance between you two completely. You averted your eyes as the tension grew. "It'll look better with some companions."

His hand went above your head and you gasped as he presented you red, yellow, white and light pink roses.

"Andy, you don't have the permission for that." You breathed and shook your head.

"Oh honey, I have all the permission you need." He said and handed you the roses. "Take them, they'll look good together."

You nodded. "Ah, actually I'm feeling sleepy and I'm kinda an insomniac, so it's an opportunity I can't miss. We'll resume our conversation tomorrow." You lied.

He pondered over your words, making you nervous before he smiled and nodded. "Of course, sleep is important. Especially to a beauty like you."

You offered a parting smile and walked away. You hugged yourself as a chill ran down your spine. It was not because of the cold night but the gaze that bore into you and the dark aura that clung to you, you couldn't shake it off even when you tried.

You felt something would change drastically, what and how. You didn't know.

Taglist: @goldenharrysworld , @magnificentsaladllama , @iloveavengers , @charmed-asylum , @moonstruckbirdie

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neutron-stars-collision · 9 months

Text

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Epilogue - Always You

Chapter 20; Masterlist Summary: One December evening, Vengeance climbs into your apartment through the window. That's regular occurrence by now. What isn't regular, is the conversation you share. Warnings: 18+ (sorry, the gremlin in my brain insisted I describe some of that), swearing. Author's Notes: So, this is the official farewell. This epilogue turned out to be kind of an 'evening in the life of', but I think I needed that. Even if only just to say goodbye to those two. It's 6k of headcanons and fluff, so I hope you enjoy 💕 Once again, thanks for sticking around ✨ A playlist will follow bc of course I have that too. Feel free to let me know what you think? Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5

(gif credit: @1038276637)

No amount of thinking and consideration could have ever prepared you for the reality of being Bruce Wayne’s partner. Or girlfriend, a term you had sometimes relished teasing him with. If only to get that same deadpan look, complemented by a pink blush on his cheeks and one sentence reply.

Always the same: “You’re much more than that to me”. Every time the answer made you blush too, overwhelmed with love and hopefulness like never before. Because, as it quickly turned out, Bruce treated this seriously, daily putting in work to make sure whatever you had would survive.

And it did, at least until the rain showers had been replaced by snowfall, and the white coat covering most of Gotham almost made up for the plummeting temperatures. Long enough for you to get used to the idea that a solo night at your place did not mean loneliness. It did not even mean that you would be alone for that much longer, for, as it happened, Bruce’s patrol now sometimes led to your apartment instead of the Terminus. It was a substitute for the nights when you opted to stay at your place instead of perusing the Tower. All the heads-up he would give would be a quick text sent between the hours when you were likely still awake. But it was all you needed, instantly perking up at the idea.

That night was like that, as you were informed by a message on the burner phone: “I’ll come by after 2”. Easy fate to achieve - waiting for Bruce until 2 am. Although, the slow passage of time made you groan for the umpteenth time as you found it still to be only 1 am. An hour. A whole bloody hour. Your head dropped onto the table with a dull thud. The waiting for him was the worst part of it all, perhaps only next to the constant anxiety that filled your veins whenever Bruce was playing the part of Batman. Mostly because you never knew whether waiting up on him in the cave would be to get that desired kiss and help him with the amour or whether it would entail cleaning the wounds and bandaging the cuts. You already had a fair share of both. And there was no point guessing which you preferred.

Your favourite nights, by a large margin, were those when Bruce stayed home. Or at least stayed long enough to go to bed with you. Those were the nights of discoveries and enlightenment, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Always wanting more. Luckily now, you did not have to deny yourself what you had become addicted to. And the list was growing exponentially. Like the fact that after that first night when you had confessed your feelings for Bruce, the three words had only gained power. Enough so that when you whispered them at just the right time, with Bruce still buried deep inside you and inching towards his release - they were all the trigger he needed. All sense of control seemed to disappear as soon as you reminded him you loved him. And for that, the affection only grew.

You knew that was very much mutual.

The other discovery, which had led to many sleepless lonely nights, spent squirming under the covers, was that once Bruce had understood that he truly was the best you ever had, a new level of confidence was unlocked. Some might even call it smugness. But you could not possibly mind a bit of cockiness when it got you a man who would tease you with his fingers and mouth till you were a whimpering mess. And then, only then, he would lean in close, let his mouth brush your heated cheek and the shell of your ear, and whisper: “Come for me”. A request. A command even. You had no choice but to obey. Not that you didn’t want to. By now, the exact way he had spoken had become a go-to soundtrack to all your daydreams. A weak substitute for when you were apart.

It was still better than nothing.

Glancing at the watch to check the time, you were easily brought back from the pleasant recollections. It was almost 2 am. Not long now. You did not need a mirror to confirm your mouth stretched into a dumb smile. The reaction was involuntary at this point, transforming you into that type of lovesick individual you always scoffed at. The irony was infuriating. Feeling the tell-tale shiver of anticipation, you made one final lap of the flat. Smoothing out the bedsheets (even though neither of you cared about it), taking out the short-rimmed tumbler (in case he did want that whiskey you offered before Halloween) and dragging a hand through your hair to detangle any knots (even though he had seen you with bed-hair and mascara stains on your cheeks). Only then you could say you were ready.

And right on time, too, for before long, you heard the familiar light knock upon the window frame. A smile broke out on your face as you crossed the room to unlatch the window and stepped back. This part always made you laugh. You knew why Bruce deemed the window a better way of entering your apartment, but it was still a strange spectacle to witness. Using the grappling hook, he would lift himself to the level of your building and gracefully slip in. The only downside? The melting snow created puddles on your floor. This time you were prepared, a sweeping mop in hand.

The first glimpse you caught was a smile under the cowl. A look so strange for Mr Vengeance himself, yet something you had grown accustomed to. You returned the expression with ease, watching as he jumped in feet first through the window frame and landed on your floor with a quiet groan. That, too, was a sign – this night had been rough. Before you could process the realization, Bruce strengthened up and took off the cowl. As always, that first shared glance made you shiver. The smudged black makeup was smeared around his eyes, hair messy and unkempt, begging you to arrange it. There was no reason to wait.

“Hello, you” you closed the remaining gap and placed your hand on his shoulder.

The material felt cold and made you shiver as you rose on your toes to level with him. Bruce’s eyes traced your every move as he wound his arm around your waist, keeping you close and secure.

“Hey,” the whisper you got in return was the last thing you let him say before you crashed your mouth into his with a satisfied hum.

The coldness of his lips did nothing to stifle the spark of fire slowly building in your veins. As always. Carefully you let your tongue trace his bottom lip, prodding at the seam till Bruce opened his mouth, inviting you in. The familiarity of the feeling was enough to let you drop the remaining weight from your shoulders and sink into him, tasting and consuming all you could. All that he was willing to give you.

Bruce responded in kind to the tempo you had set, caressing your tongue with his and lightly nipping at your bottom lip. He felt like home. Even with the melting snow dripping onto your clothes and the hard edges of the armour digging between your ribs. The need to continue was stronger than anything else. Until neither of you could get deep enough breaths to continue.

You drew back with a quiet whine, frustration adding spikes to the warmth in your chest. The blue of Bruce’s eyes staring back at you smoothed the feeling, instantly making you notice the glimmer in his gaze. The love that was no longer a secret between you. It was impossible to escape the blush blooming on your cheeks and the pick-up in your heart rate. Ignoring the urge to hide from his perceptive stare, you returned to the task at hand.

One assessing look was enough as you raised your hand to cup his cheek and then up to comb through the hair falling into his eyes. You carefully brushed it away from his forehead, barely managing not to drown in the grateful look you got awarded. The only way of avoiding the shame of losing your mind and doing something utterly stupid like falling to your knees before Bruce, you grabbed the mop and pushed it onto his chest with a simple instruction:

“Now mop the floor” you eyed the growing puddle at your feet with a critical eye, adding, “You’ve made a mess” without waiting for a reply, you turned away towards the kitchen.

Just in time to hear the answer.

“Yes, ma’am” you did not need to see him to know he was smiling.

Approaching the counter, you opened the cupboard and eyed the contents. It was too late for a meal, but when Bruce visited, you would always share a drink before retiring to your bedroom. It was only a question of choice. What suited him better on this particular December night?

“What’s your poison tonight?” you asked and turned to face Bruce, finding him leaning the mop on the wall and the floors shiny and swept (naturally), “Coffee? Tea? Whiskey?” the first two had been staples on the menu, the last one was an inside joke.

An option you always gave him for the sake of it. And also, because you were yet to see Bruce Wayne relax with an alcoholic drink in his hand. Early on, he had told you he did not indulge in that too often, seldom, in fact, because alcohol did not exactly help the difficult thoughts springing in his mind at every possible chance. You knew the feeling too well, so you never pushed. But maybe-

“You know what?” Bruce’s question interjected your internal monologue as he eyed the tumbler you had taken out earlier, “Maybe it’s time. At last,” raising his head to meet your searching gaze, Bruce grinned.

Even now, when smiles no longer were rare, you still treasured each one. Mostly because they lit up Bruce’s beautiful face like nothing else, throwing everything into perspective. It was a point of personal pride you made him smile like that.

Without waiting for Bruce to change his mind, you took the bottle off the shelf and grabbed a second glass to fill. Two ice cubs per drink clinked in the tumblers as you poured the rich brown liquid and turned to hand it to him.

“Cheers,” raising yours to toast, you sent him another pleased smile.

You did not need to discuss the arrangement, wordlessly taking a sip from the glass and placing it back on the counter to free your hands for the next step in the routine. Bruce mirrored your moves, patiently waiting for you to start taking off the armour pieces. By now, the process was almost second nature. You did not need his directions, easily following the straps and buckles to undo them. Each plating would end up on one of your chairs, a dark heap covered with the cloak. Only once Bruce was left with the black thermals, you drifted to the sofa and fell against each other on the cushions. Multiple points of contact at every spot. Calves, knees, thighs, hips, and shoulders. At the least.

At first, you did not talk, quietly soaking in the calm. It quickly became evident that Bruce valued his peace, and each nightly escapade was enough to drain his battery. Both physically and mentally. That is why when he returned home or to your place the priority was letting him rest. Usually, you would put the tv on as background noise, but tonight as soon as you turned your head to look at Bruce, the remote control was frozen in your hand.

Suddenly it struck you. The strangeness of the moment in its entirety. It was nothing you could have foreseen, not in a million years. And yet, it made perfect sense.

You must have stared for too long because the next thing you registered was Bruce looking back at you with an incredulous glim in his eyes. He arched an eyebrow, his hand landing on your knee to gently stroke the skin beneath your pyjama pants. A question followed:

“What’s that look for?” the curiosity in his tone made you smile, barely resisting the urge to hide your face in the crook of his neck to avoid being stared at.

Especially by someone who could see through each wall you ever tried to raise. By now, you never even tried anymore, aware that it was pointless. Bruce (somehow) wanted all of you, so that is what he got. You could only hope he would never change his mind.

“It’s a lot to take in,” shrugging with one shoulder, the one not tucked against his side, you chose the safest answer.

All the while knowing Bruce would not let that be the end of that conversation. You only had to wait approximately 10 seconds for the follow-up question.

“What is?” you had to admit he was good at this.

Interrogation techniques that somehow fit right in the dynamic between you. And made it impossible for you to hide from him. While the thought had been terrifying once, it was almost easy to get used to. Almost being the keyword there.

“Oh, you know” feigning nonchalance, you chose to pace your answer, taking your time with the reveal, while watching him closely, “Having Vengeance in my living room” was the most obvious of hang-ups, something you did not think you could get accustomed to. Each time you saw tv coverage of Batman or had your work colleagues develop a piece on the vigilante, the thrill of realization felt like something new, something you had never experienced before. Now, you let your gaze stray to the half-empty tumbler in his hand, adding another layer to the confession, “Serving whiskey to Bruce Wayne” lifting your eyes to catch the growing smile on his face, you allowed the fondness seep into your tone. The feeling was almost drowning out the disbelief that still tinted your vowels. You never expected to get rid of that either, “Having that same Bruce Wayne as my boyfriend…” it was strange to let the term roll off your tongue this freely, but the strangeness could not contend with the happiness you could see in his eyes. It was enough to make you grin, the conclusion to the speech coming up effortlessly, “Never once saw that coming” no lies were to be found there, “I need to stare a little longer to make sure you won’t disappear on me now” the excuse was flimsy, but it had the intended effect.

Bruce smiled and pulled you closer again, your body falling against his chest like always. The warmth of the embrace kept the chill from settling in your bones. His arms tightened around your waist as he rested his chin on your head and let out a content sigh.

“I won’t” there was no need to question him, all sense of doubt disappearing like melting snow when he added, “I like you too much,”

It was both what he said and how he said it. Like it was no big deal. Like the admission did not cost him anything. Like the character evolution you had witnessed in Bruce was something he was proud of. Something he took joy in if only because it mattered to you.

That was a little difficult to get used to.

So much so that instead of facing the affectionate admissions head-on, you chose to go for a joke, using it as a protective veil:

“Damn, never imagined Bruce Wayne would be such a softie” you lightly swatted him across the chest, not expecting the delighted giggle that would erupt from your throat when he caught your hand in his and squeezed it.

“I’m not” it took one look at Bruce, registering the slight pout and the petulance in his eyes, to make you abandon the pretence.

You dove in for a kiss, pressing your mouth against his in a quick, firm peck balancing just on the right sight of not being too greedy. Or distracting for the conversation you were still hoping to have with Bruce.

“Sure, babe” you placed another kiss on the apple of his cheek, slightly tinted pink, and changed the topic, “So, how’s Gotham? Any hot goss I should know about?” you bated your eyelashes as a complimentary show of begging.

Not that Bruce would otherwise deny you the answers. He never did that, which quickly made you the second most informed individual in the city. After the Batman, of course.

Bruce shifted slightly - a sign you had come to associate with the conversation taking a more serious turn. Placing a comforting hand on his knee, you waited as he gathered his thoughts and replied:

“There’s some talk of the Penguin putting most of his resources into bringing back the drops business” you frowned, already knowing what a mess would result from such a move. Although, unfortunately, it sounded plausible, “I’ve got addresses to scout that might be their new labs” Bruce glanced at you, awaiting a comment.

And potentially wordlessly asking whether you wanted to accompany him during the recon. It was something you did together, from time to time. An unusual way of spending time and a first-hand opportunity to gather information for work. And if the pleasant side-effect were the heated kisses shared in the shadowed alleys, then it was nobody’s business but yours.

You already knew it was a yes if he asked.

“That’s probably something you should share with Gordon” instead of voicing that, you chose to offer him reasoning.

The close cooperation between them was still a surprising development. But it was getting stronger and sometimes made you wonder whether the GCPD lieutenant would not be the very next person to learn Vengeance’s identity. So far, Bruce denied it, but you knew better than to take his word for granted. After all, decisions changed.

“And I will. But once I’m sure there’s truth in what I’ve been told,” Bruce shrugged, a brief hint of petulance in his tone making you grin.

Bruce Wayne also did not seem to change. Not completely.

You could never let a chance like that pass you by. Shifting yet again to sit up on your knees and face him, you dropped your voice a notch, giving it an appropriately seductive timbre:

“Good boy” before Bruce could react, you patted his head and dragged your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands.

That was another key phrase of your relationship. The magical two words, if used correctly, gave you complete control over Bruce. As it turned out, the Wayne heir was incredibly susceptible to praise. You could never have too much fun with that knowledge.

You watched with growing satisfaction at how he shuddered, the two words already having an impact. Bruce blushed, and his eyes darkened almost imperceptibly. To anyone else, the reactions would have been difficult to discern from the poker face he had slipped back on. But it was much harder to fool you.

Bruce knew as much. He shrugged off your hand with unnecessary care and turned to glare at you. The twitching corner of his mouth was an easy giveaway.

“Careful there,” the warning in his voice was another trick taken straight from the toolbox.

You already knew what this was. The rules of the game were familiar by now. You did not have to fake the heat blooming in your face at the tone Bruce had implemented. All you had to do was give him your brightest smile and amp the innocent flicker in your eyes to fit the intent. That was always fun.

“Or what?” enjoying the way his eyes followed your every move, you placed your hand on his chest, pressing it flat against the fabric to feel the heartbeat, “You’re going to jump me?” as the question left your lips, your fingers begun tracing their path up the length of his thigh.

More often than not, that was how those precious nights between you began. With a ridiculous conversation and increasingly risky touch, getting rid of the remaining inhibitions. Not that there were many left.

You could see Bruce ponder the assumption, using the ball you had placed in his court. The decision was strictly up to him. You liked to remind him from time to time that you both could share the control equally. And that whatever he chose did not change anything for you. You were there for the long run.

“I’d love to” he reached out to brush the stray hair from your forehead, eyes showing hints of remorse that spoiled the answer before he gave it, “Not tonight though, sorry” it was impossible to miss the subtle wince on his face as Bruce shifted on the sofa.

That told you all you needed to know. Your hand stopped all its wandering, resting atop his thigh and tracing lazy circles over the black fabric. You knew that before you both went to bed, you would need to take out the ointments bought specifically for evenings like that and ask Bruce to take off his shirt. And it was alright. Fine, even. Because seeing Bruce Wayne shirtless was a perk of every kind of evening. Full stop.

Hoping the convey the feelings through the softness of your gaze, you allowed yourself one last joke. One final tease to satisfy the need and drag that shy smile out of its confines.

“You’ll pay for your crimes soon enough” Bruce let out a breathless laugh, and you felt like the luckiest being on the planet.

Yeah, you never saw this coming.

***

It was well past 4 am when you finally turned off the ceiling lights in your bedroom and joined Bruce on the bed. Sometimes that part, the brief conversations whispered with your heads resting against the headboard, felt almost like the domestic future you never expected to have. Like the word, which began with an m and ended with an e. You were still too scared to say it out loud or even in the quiet of your mind.

Ignoring the thought now, you quietly settled against the pillows and turned to stare at Bruce. He looked as if he belonged there, nestled underneath your woollen quilt with his damp, dark hair falling in strands over his forehead. Your heart throbbed in your chest. It was almost too good to be true. Fearing another wave of feelings you could not control, you broke the silence with whatever sentence you could think of:

“You know there’s this gala Réal is hosting before Christmas…” admittedly, it was something you had wanted to bring up to Bruce.

It has been on your mind since the mayor’s announcement via press release weeks back. After the election and everything else that followed, she had taken decisive steps to fix the city. One of them was inviting the elites and the journalists to the charity gala this December. Although you were sceptical about the effects, the intents alone were admirable.

You knew Bruce had received an invite. But if that were not common knowledge, the myriad of emotions passing through his face at the reminder would have been the giveaway. You could easily discern discomfort, uncertainty, and fear among them. Without thinking about it, you took hold of his hand resting on the covers and squeezed it. That was a common way of assuring Bruce that you were there, of offering him comfort when he would not ask for it first. After what felt like hours of silence, Bruce let out a tortured sigh and replied:

“Yes, of course. It’s only every other day that Alfred reminds me I should show up” from that dejected tone alone, you could recognize that it was a touchy subject.

And that Bruce had already made up his mind about doing everything he could not to go. Unfortunately for him, with this case and with many others you were on Alfred’s side. You made a quick mental note to mention it to the butler the next time you saw him.

“Well, you should” as soon as you spoke, Bruce sent you a glare and let out another pained groan. His penchant for dramatics was something you never expected but was incredibly happy to discover, always making you laugh, “I know, I know, but… I mean, I’ll be there” once the bit of information was out, you winced. It was a stupid thing to add. While it was true, the fact was entirely unnecessary. For obvious reasons, “Obviously we can’t go together… which I don’t mind, by the way,” nervous laughter broke through the surface as you unconsciously moved away from Bruce and fixed your gaze on the swirling patterns of the duvet “I knew what I was getting myself into with you, so…”

And you did know. You never expected to ramble around Gotham’s public events holding onto Bruce’s arm. It was not even something you actively yearned for, finding the desired happiness and peace in those quiet private moments instead. It was another case of your mouth having a mind of its own and an incontrollable want to fill the gaps between reasonable sentences with bullshit. It was far from the first time that had happened.

Maybe that was why what Bruce said next did not surprise you but only made the pricks of conscience worse.

“I’m sorry” the apology was filled with enough sincerity to make your heart ache.

You knew that he meant it. In his eyes, something as silly as keeping your relationship secret was another way of letting you down. Of not being enough for you. It was another thing to nag him in the quiet of his mind when there were no distractions. You knew what that was like all too well. Before Bruce could drown in the spiral of his own making, you leaned in to cup his face and spoke:

“No, Bruce, I… I love you” the admission was an easy thing to say these days, falling from your lips like the tears you had once shed over it, “Nothing changes that. Plus, there’s an exciting potential in taking some time away from the other guests by perusing the bathroom” you wiggled your eyebrows comically, delighted to see him smile “It’s just a suggestion,”

It felt like a relief when Bruce grinned and gave you a forehead kiss.

“I’ll think about it. I promise” giving his hand another squeeze, you accepted the truce and made sure to meet his gaze. The tone Bruce used told you that was only just the beginning, “You’re not the only one who didn’t see this coming” slightly changing the grip on your hand, Bruce caressed your knuckles in broad, repetitive strokes.

The shyness in his eyes was familiar by now. Although, still, his openness could surprise you. Like just now. With an admission that he had no obligation to make yet seemed eager to anyway. You tightened the hold on his hand and asked:

“Yeah?” wincing at the wavering voice, you could hardly conceal the surprise in your gaze.

Because that was a line of conversation, you never expected him to follow. At least not tonight. But it did not make you any less curious, always happy to get another glimpse into the workings of Bruce’s mind and heart. Those were utterly precious. It was pointless to even think about getting rid of the gaping mouth and the dazed eyes.

Judging by Bruce’s smile, there was no need to try either.

“Yep,” he nodded and raised his arm in an invitation, soon followed by words, “Come here” you did not hesitate in scooting closer and letting Bruce pull you to rest with your back against his chest. You could feel him nosing along the tendons in your neck, voice slightly muffled yet still audible “You’re absolutely terrifying” you could picture his gleeful smile with your eyes closed.

The joy in his tone felt infectious. It was easy to say he meant it. That being called terrifying was one of the highest honours Bruce could bestow on you. You leant into the lingering kiss he pressed to the nape of your neck and breathed out the reply:

“That’s a new one, but I’ll take it” stringing together the words and ignoring the fire torched in your lower stomach from something as simple as his lips on your neck were too difficult a feat to achieve.

It became apparent as soon as you became aware of your breathless voice and heard Bruce’s low chuckle resonating through your body. It was a sound you came to like, very much. It meant he was finding you amusing and decidedly good enough. It was something to shove in the face of struggling self-confidence that could always try a little more.

“You’re terrifying because, with you, I can’t hide behind the cowl and pretend I don’t exist” the sincerity of the statement was enough to make your heart trip over itself in your chest.

Without thinking, you raised your clasped hands to your mouth and kissed his knuckles. A few days old scrapes scratched the skin of your lips. It felt real.

“Is that a good thing?” you had to ask, even if only to prolong the fragile moment.

Because no matter how much you enjoyed the loudest of nights and the blatant confessions, poignancy was something else entirely. Something you would always chase after if it stepped into your sights. Like just now.

“Yes, because you make me braver” Bruce did not hesitate, his grip around your waist tightening just a little bit as he continued, “I’m pretty sure you know this, but you’re the only person that gets to see me. The real Bruce Wayne as he’s supposed to be” you did know that which did not make the knowledge feel any less groundbreaking “It’s just that I know I’m not enough. For you-” it was once he started saying utter bullshit, that you had to interject.

That was not acceptable. Not on your watch. Gently peeling Bruce’s arms from your waist, you turned in his lap to straddle his hips and placed your hands on his shoulders. He did not expect that. You could tell as much from the hitch in his breathing and the widening eyes. Bruce still took it in his stride, steadying you with his arm around your shoulders, the other hand tracing invisible pathways along your thigh. You knew he was struck into silence, unable to do anything but wait on your next call. Something about the power you possessed over him was intoxicating if you did as much as stop and think about it.

Most days, you simply did not.

“You’re really dumb, but that’s okay” without hesitation, you cupped his cheek and carded your fingers through his unruly hair, smiling like an idiot. Because in the end, it was quite simple, you were astonished Bruce did not know it just yet. You waited for his blue eyes to meet yours and whispered, “You’re everything to me,”

It was an easy synonym to the familiar I love you, and to the less apparent I don’t want to imagine my life without you. It was the only way you could tell him the extent of his importance. The only way you could try to without dissolving into tears or doing something stupid like asking him to marry you. You did not think that would be quite the right time for it.

Bruce’s answering smile, softened by the persisting edges of disbelief, told you that you made the right call. He understood. As always. Unlike your very first kiss, you moved simultaneously, colliding somewhere in between with strangled gasps. Your tongues met in an electrizing touch, igniting the fire in your veins and making you fall against him with a whimper. Bruce swallowed the sound, his fingers buried into your hair as his tongue traced the sharper edges of your canines. As if he did not have the inside of your mouth memorized by now.

You could only step into the dance, letting him set the pace. His warmth overwhelmed your body as you kissed his lips with the hunger and thirst of a dying woman. Because that was the next best thing you could think of to show him you meant it. Because the pressure of his mouth against yours and the taste of his tongue sometimes were the only things that felt real. Real enough to make you believe hope could persist. That it had a place within your reality. With each kiss, each confession, and each day that passed with Bruce, hope slowly replaced the longing that used to fill your heart. You could only trust that one day it would be eradicated.

Your kiss stretched until it was nearly impossible to breathe. Then, and only then, you nipped at Bruce’s lower lip and softened the bite with the swipe of your tongue before parting. His eyes looked beautiful when nearly swallowed by the gaping black of his blown-out pupils. And it was all your doing. You always took pleasure in the seconds just after the kiss, the few ticks of the clock when Bruce had to forcibly shake himself awake from the spell you had put him under. You could see it in the slight shake of his head, clearing the daze in his eyes and the deep breath he took before even trying to speak.

You rested your forehead against his, the pounding heart slowing down. Until everything that was left was a pleasant hum of the passion coursing in your veins. There was no need to act on it, so you let yourself exist and bask in the warmth of Bruce’s body against yours. When he finally spoke, you were almost composed:

“See? Terrifying” happiness shone in his blue eyes as Bruce raised his hand to let his fingers trace the edges of your features.

It was impossible not to lean into his touch, greedily taking every ounce of tenderness Bruce would offer. He always took that additional second to brush the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, soothing the kiss-bruised skin. You could hardly stop the satisfied purr that rose in your throat.

Instead, you tried to focus on the sentiment. On how much it must have meant for Bruce to admit. Without needing to think about it too hard, you knew you understood the feeling. That the myriad of emotions swirling in your chest could be summarized with one response. One that Bruce would see through easily. One that would show him that you have this in common, too.

You leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek and whispered the reply:

“Quite right, too,” the unspoken meaning shone through the gaps between the vowels, highlighted by the slight waver of your voice.

When Bruce tipped your chin and met your gaze, you knew you made the right choice. Another ounce of hope replaced the longing. Another heavy sigh became unanchored and took flight within the safety of his eyes.

As the snow covered the city outside, you became aware of two things. 1) It was good to be seen if the gaze that pierced through your soul was kind. 2) Bruce Wayne could be many things, but above all that, he was yours. And that was enough.

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imagine--if · 2 years

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hi! can you do a bruce wayne x reader fic where reader calls bruce pretty and he ends up blushing? just a whole lot of fluff? tysm i love ur writing <3

A/N: He’s pretty as hecc 😍 just LoOk At HiS mOoDy LiL fACe 😂💕

Pairing: Battinson x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Fluff 🖤

Words: 242

At this moment, he's completely unguarded, as he leans against your side, burying himself into your warmth with a small, relieved sigh. Bruce always gets like this after being Batman for the night, somehow convinced that you've been hurt or a little too vulnerable for the hours he hasn't been with you. But you're completely unharmed, of course, and smile softly as you brush your fingers through his dark locks that curtain and shape his face perfectly.

"Bruce," you speak up quietly, your fingers tracing his jawline as they come away from his hair, and he hums, refusing to move from his cuddled up position by your side. "Bruce, baby, look at me."

And so he does, earnest, deep brown eyes gazing into yours in tired attentiveness. Your smile grows as you rest your forehead against his, returning the embrace properly.

"You're so pretty."

Bruce's eyes widen a fraction at the compliment, his cheeks tinting a light pink in his newly flustered state. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, a small, bashful smile tugging at his lips.

"Not as pretty as you," he mumbles so softly you almost miss it, and grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook. He lets out a large breath, pulling you into his lap and cradling you as if you're the most precious thing in the world... and, to Bruce Wayne, that's exactly what you are.

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sinnah8 · 2 years

Text

Remember That final

Bruce Wayne x f! reader

An- I didn't want to leave you guys on a cliff hanger and I don't really have any ideas for this so I will end this on a good note. Enjoy loves<3

masterlist | ask

you gasped for air as you wake up to see Bruce next to you. All you remembered was getting hit with something and now you're laying on a hospital bed.

"What the hell" you looked to see Bruce sitting down right next to you. You tried to get up but pain flooded your body "Don't get up, let me grab the nurse" you were beyond confused "Bruce hold on what the Fuck is going on right now!?!" Bruce completely ignored you and went to go find the nurse.

The nurse gave you ibuprofen and told you to rest up. Bruce hadn't left your side "I think you have other important things too, like saving Gotham" you scoffed. Bruce coldly staring you down, of course, he is not saying a single word to you.

Months without contact and he's just standing there not saying a word to you. You chuckle to yourself and Bruce turns to you "Do you even have a reason to be here". Bruce looked at you blankly and suddenly spoke up "y/n I care about you more than I care for myself and I know what I did was a dick move. But I didn't want you to die in my vain and seeing you helpless and near death just made my reason more valid than it should be." The picture was clear, Bruce cared more than he should and you would've been left for dead without him.

Everything clicked and you lifted yourself up and gave Bruce a hug. "I'm so sorry for being selfish Bruce" you sobbed, Bruce shook his head and lifted your chin, and kisses you.

finally, you bother were reunited, Now it's all a blur.

#dc fanfic #dccomics #battinson x reader #battinson #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #battinson x y/n #the batman 2022 #the batman #fanfic #dc #the batman x reader #battinson x female reader

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iridescentprose · 1 year

Text

Gotham Nights—Battinson x catwoman reader

summary; the aftermath of an interrogation gone a bit too far.

warnings; mentions of bloody knuckles, an unconscious body; a hint of floof

song; monsters (acoustic reverb version)—ruelle

author's note; happy fall.

The low, yet incessant humming of the generator in the background did little to ease the groans coming from the barely conscious body in the corner of the room. Stubbornly, you massaged the bloody nubs that coated your knuckles.

A pair of black boots approached you, offering a piece of torn, bloody fabric. Your eyes went to the body in the corner. The shoulder of his buttoned down shirt had been missing. You looked back at the cloth in your partner's hands.

It was better than nothing.

Reluctantly, you took it and applied pressure to the wounds on your hands before wrapping it intricately around your fingers. By no means you couldn't get it to stay wrapped around your fingers - the wounds too big to keep it secure.

A hand settled on top of yours just before you could give up. Your partner crouched before you, gently taking the torn fabric. Without any warning, he wordlessly took your injured hand and began to wrap it firmly. Weaving the fabric between and around your fingers, you winced in pain. Fresh wounds were always tender to the touch.

"So, what are you going to do with him?" You dared to ask as he worked on fastening the knot.

"I'm taking him to the police," he replied almost instantly, cinching the knot firmly. He did another knot for good measure. You gritted your teeth as pain prickled throughout your hand.

"The police?"

"I trust them. Some of them."

You begged to differ. The body in the corner was a petty thief layered in sheep's clothing - a closet drophead who had connections in the underground that stretched beneath the city like roots that infiltrated the government, the police department, and even the poor. Those same roots put a chokehold on those closest to you—pulling them down further and further to the ground until they were no longer there. Until their minds were far off - hung up on addiction, murder, and greed.

"I don't," You said, running your fingers over the makeshift bandage as he finished wrapping your hand. You balled it into a fist, making the tight cinch loose. "Everyone's corrupt—"

He grabbed your hand, not forcefully but enough to ease your anger.

"Not everyone," he said, fastening the "bandage" once more before looking at you.

You scoffed lightly and shook your head in amusement, a brief smile breaking through. "I know you're not corrupt."

"How do you know that?"

"Because actions speak louder than words." You looked down at your bandaged hand sitting in his gloved one. Despite the conversation being laced with frustration and debate, he had been nothing but gentle. His thumb lightly settled across your knuckles, his fingers curling around your palm gently. There was a mutual understanding between the two of you. Your curious suspicions about his trust in the some of the police department had already been answered.

Actions speak louder than words.

You both did little to break eye contact before a soft 'thud' in the corner brought you both back to reality. The body's boot kicked the generator one final time before it went still.

"He's dead," You said. A part of you hoped your observation was wrong as Vengeance stood to check his pulse. You knew very well you had caused too much damage before the real questions had yet to be asked.

"Unconscious," he reported a few moments after, causing you to sigh in relief. Vengeance removed his fingers from the Body's neck before he crouched down to sit him up.

You watched quietly as you nursed your hand, your fingers lightly massaging over the wounds. Your festering anger simmered down and was slowly being replaced with curiosity as Vengeance tied to the ropes around the Body's chest tighter so he couldn't escape when the police arrived.

You weren't sure if you had made the situation worse by knocking him unconscious, but the monstrous deed of revenge had been done...and for the sake of the person you trusted, you didn't feel guilty about it.

After all, you were just as much of a monster as he was in the eyes of Gotham.

#battinson x reader #the batman 2022 x reader #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #batman reader insert #battinson x you #battison x y/n #the batman #battinson #the batman x you #batman #battinson x female reader #dceu dc fanfiction

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years

Text

Patience (8)

Summary: After a day out with Bruce you find yourself sick and unable to care for Gabe. Thankfully Bruce offered his help right away.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

Rating: G

Warnings: fluff, kissing, Bruce playing with Gabe, Reader has the flu

Patience Masterlist

“That’s me,” you said, blinking at the newspaper. You sneezed. “Sorry,” you mumbled. Alfred gave you a little smile.

“Yes, that’s indeed you and Master Wayne,” Alfred said as he picked up the plate he had brought you earlier.

Yesterday had been great. After court Bruce had taken you out to lunch at a restaurant outside of Gotham. Your first official date, he had joked. You could still see his small smile in front of you. After lunch you and him had walked through the park, hand in hand for an hour before you had to make your way back to the tower. Bruce hadn’t let go of your hand the whole day, keeping you close to him.

He seemed to always be observing his surroundings, like he was just waiting for something to happen and you noticed how he visibly relaxed once you were back at the tower. Gabe had already been asleep by then. So you and Bruce had watched a movie. At least you thought you had, having fallen asleep halfway through. You woke up in your own bed halfway through the night, feeling exhausted, your throat achy.

While you were making yourself some tea you had run into Alfred, wondering what he was doing up so early. He had taken one look at you, his hand gently pressed against your forehead before he walked you back to bed, telling you that you had a fever and should sleep. You had protested but fallen asleep before Alfred had left your room.

So here you were, with Bruce’ tablet in your lap, scrolling yourself through the internet only to find a picture of Bruce and you inside the court building yesterday. It was… kinda cute? Like… Bruce kissing your forehead in a moment you both thought weren’t watched was not the worst they could have printed.

“Can you get the original?” you asked Alfred. He nodded with a small grin.

“Of course. I will be back with tea later. Try to get some sleep.”

“What about Gabe? I… I miss him,” you added with a frown.

“Gabe is in good hands. Master Wayne took over from Dory an hour ago.”

“Bruce is watching him?” you asked surprised.

“He is indeed,” Alfred nodded, giving her a quick wink before he left the room.

“Gabe,” Bruce whispered. He was kneeling on the floor of Gabe’s new room while Gabe was crawling to the other side of the room. The room he wanted to surprise you with. You didn’t know about it. Bruce had instructed Alfred to take care of the renovation of his old bedroom. The room he grew up in. It was across the hall from Bruce bedroom, the master bedroom. And… he had this big plan for yesterday. To ask you if you maybe wanted to…

Bruce wanted you closer. He wanted to touch you all the damn time. He wanted to spend every minute with you and Gabe. And he knew asking you to… move in with him, into his room, was a step that was probably in the future and not now but… He dreamed of you. He dreamed of you in his bed, in his arms. He dreamed of waking up next to you.

The way you and Gabe had changed him ever since moving into this tower… He felt… He had a reason, a real reason to come home. He ate more. He slept more. He didn’t let Batman command his whole life. He was just… He was just Bruce when he was with you.

But he had to tell you. About Batman. He felt bad keeping things from you. Yes, his first and biggest priority was to keep you and Gabe safe. And… while he argued that telling you could potentially put you in danger, Alfred had said one thing he hadn’t stopped thinking about.

“Do you think lying to the woman you love is a good idea?”

Love.

He… never had been in love. At least… not like this.

Of course Bruce had been with some people before. But… it never lasted for more than a couple of weeks, because he grew bored quickly and he never really felt like he could let somebody in. Getting to know someone when they already think they knew all about him was… complicated. All his life in all his relationships he had to ask himself the question, do they want me for me or for my name and fortune?

He didn’t ask himself this question with you for one moment. You were… almost subborningly making sure you were never a charity case. You took care of your son and made sure the renovations of the tower you had planned were happening. You worked for your money. He couldn’t even count the nights he had found you asleep in the living room over sketches or your laptop. You had… a great eye for the architecture of this old building, keeping some of the… what did you call it? Dracula vibes in here while giving everything else a way overdue update. He hadn’t seen anything yet, just the plans, but he was looking forward to seeing the end result.

Earlier last week you had gotten another offer to design the office building of a children’s charity in downtown Gotham. The CEO knew you from your old job and Bruce had never been prouder.

“GAH!” Gabe crawled towards Bruce quickly on the soft green carpet.

“Oh nooooo help I’m beeing attaacked,” Bruce said dramatically, letting himself fall on his back as Gabe climbed over him, his tiny hand grabbing Bruce’s nose almost painfully. But he just smiled.

“Gah!” Gabe said again and grinned widely.

“Yes. Gah,” Bruce agreed and chuckled before he pulled Gabe in his arms.

“Do you like your new room? I thought of Bats first, but Uncle Alfred said it would be a little too obvious,” Bruce asked and Gabe looked at him. “You like the Elephants?” Bruce got up from the floor, holding Gabe against his chest as he walked over to the wall that was painted with all kinds of animals.

“I liked Elephants when I was younger. My mom always said we would go to see them all the way in South Africa one day,” Bruce hummed. Gabe reached a hand out against Bruce forehead. He just looked at him before his hand grabbed some of Bruce hair and pulled. Hard.

“Okay. Message received. I need a haircut,” Bruce joked, easing his hair out of Gabe’s hand.

“Come on. I think it’s time for a new diaper and then a snack?” Bruce asked and Gabe clapped his little hands. Bruce smiled.

You blinked your eyes open when you heard the door opening.

“Hey,” Bruce said quietly.

“Hey…” you groaned back.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Surprisingly? Better than this morning. The fever already broke. I don’t know what Alfred gave me, but it definitely helped,” you smiled tiredly. You noticed that it was already dark outside. You had slept through most of the day.

“Yeah. I remember he called it healthy juice when I was a kid. I still don’t know what’s in there,” he chuckled. You smiled.

“I missed you today. Being sick sucks,” you sighed. His eyes softened.

“We missed you too. I had a surprise for you today,” he said as he walked over.

“You did?”

He nodded.

“What was it?”

He shook his head.

“I’m gonna show you when you’re better.”

“That’s just mean,” you pouted and Bruce smiled.

“Or more of a reason to get better quickly,” he winked, and sat down on your bed.

“Don’t come any closer, I don't want you to get sick.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head.

“No. I… You… Someone needs to take care of Gabe. And I know you have Alfred and Dory. And… probably a day job, even though I never really saw you working but.. Gabe… He loves you, you know? Maybe you could…”

“I love him too. I already cleared my schedule to be here until you’re better.”

“You… You have a schedule?” you grinned and he looked offended for one small moment before he laughed.

“No… Not really.”

“I… I have something for you. Alfred helped me with it,” you said.

Bruce frowned, but kept coming closer until he could take your hand. You raised an eyebrow in warning but he just shook his head with a small smile.

“I… I’m pretty sure you saw the Globe this morning?” you asked and he sighed.

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t even know how they got that picture. Though it only was a question of when they would get one.”

“True. And… It’s a nice picture. It’s…. It’s the first picture of us together.”

Bruce smiled.

“I didn’t see it this way. You are handling this much better than I imagined.”

“I’m on some witchy drug provided by your british butler. Wait till I’m not sick, I’m sure I will freak out at some point,” you joked. Bruce squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he mumbled and you sighed.

“Yeah. Yeah me too,” you smiled softly as he kissed the back of your hand.

“So… The picture…” you mumbled, reaching for the frame Alfred had gotten you with the picture. You smiled shyly as you gave it to him and waited for his reaction.

“I know it’s not much. But… Even though it’s a paparazzi shot, I really like it…”

Bruce finally looked up at you, and you could see his small smile, his eyes watery.

“I love it,” he whispered and before you could stop him he kissed you softly.

Taglist:

@kiwi-the-first / @phoenixhalliwell / @ciniluv / @blue-aconite / @daryldixonstorm / @paperflowerlace / @savannah-elliott / @stuckybarton / @uncle-eggy / @blackwidownat2814 / @girlofchaos / @rintheemolion / @some-lovely-day / @tangledlove27

#my fic #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x fem!reader #battinson #battinson x female reader #robert pattinson #the batman 2022 #fanfiction #fanfic

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ali-r3n · 2 years

Text

After solving one of the Riddler’s games that Bruce was stuck on, the Reclusive Billionaire kisses you.

“You’re a genius.”

#battinson x reader #battinson imagine #battinson x y/n #battinson x you #battinson x female reader #battinson x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x fem!reader #battinson x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you

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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year

Text

Bruce Wanye’s S/O Having a ✨Southern Accent✨

• What you have to know about the *Southern Accent* is that there’s different versions of it

• There’s the tired one where all the syllables run together, the angry one (similar to the tired one) where it’s just the aggressive loss of syllables mixed with very personal threats, there’s the lack of accent when you’re in certain situations depending on the accents you grew up around, the sweet accent when talking to your elders, that kind of thing

• Depending on how strong the accent is, he’s not going to notice at first

• Like depending on my situation I have no accent or start sounding like a good ole’ southern girl

• When you’re in a meeting he probably doesn’t notice cause you’re not using that good ole southern accent

• Get tired though and you’re throwing syllables together he’s never heard

• You’re in the Batcave looking at footage of Joker

• “I on’t eve-n know what kinda mess this is”

• “Man-ee probly knocked his head fallin inta *that* acid

• He’s doing double takes

• “What did you say?”

• “I said this man’s dumber than a Florida man on 75”

• “What?”

• “HE’S A DUMBASS BRUCE- D U M B A S S“

• That’s when he starts noticing the accent more

• He thinks it’s hilarious when you come back from a long day at work and start off not worrying about annunciations

• “I think imma die fore’ the end-a this”

• He’s tried to copy the accent before

• Bless his heart

• Poor boy couldn’t do it if the world was at stake

• He just sounds like a northern boy struggling

• When you and Clark get going, no one understands you two

• Poor Diana tries to keep up but she just can’t

• Bruce just won’t

• He and the rest of the people there just sit back and watch

• Flash thinks that you have learned to just talk in the speed force

• Nope

• The times where he thinks it’s the funniest is in traffic

• That’s where every southerner starts mouthing off

• “GOOD LORD WHAT IS THIS PERSON DOIN- LORD I HADN’T SEEN A DUMBASS THIS BAD SINCE EVE ATE THAT FRUIT”

• “Sweet merciful Lord- WHAT IS HE DOIN? MOVE”

• “In all my days, I ain ever seen this”

• “I ain ever in my life”

• “I ain ever”

• It just gets shorter and shorter

• He just appreciates it

• He’s always grown up with Alfred being very proper so this is a good change

• Please call him Darlin

• He’ll die

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #justice league x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x (hero) reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #battinson x y/n #battinson x female reader #battinson x reader #battinson x you

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ktficworld · 9 months

Text

Lies and Lavish

"You finally pull your head out of your studies and go to your long time friend's wedding to relax. And it's going to be alright, even if the infamous five brothers tend to linger around you a little too long, even when you share a past with one of them, even if their darkness is slowly approaching you. It's going to be okay, right?"

Coming soon to your nearest dashboard.

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neutron-stars-collision · 10 months

Text

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 20 - In the glow of the moon

Chapter 19; Masterlist Summary: Some conversations cannot be avoided. Especially when it is Bruce, who becomes impatient... Warnings: Swearing; angst. Too much talking. Author's Notes: Alas, we've made it. This is where the story ends *sniffles*. While I've got a short epilogue in mind, it's going to be more of a post scriptum, so I'm treating this as the conclusion to the journey. And what a journey it had been! 🥺 It only took me a year and a half to finish the series, but I'm so glad I did. Those idiots did not make it easy, but I'll sure miss them. This chapter is a long overdue punchline some of you had been waiting for. I hope it meets your expectations. Thank you for reading, waiting and supporting me in the very rocky process. You all made it much easier to convince my brain it was worth continuing 💕 And thank you, Shet, for dealing with my whining, doubts and endless drama - always grateful for you! Hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think? Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5 (let me know if you wanted to be removed/added).

(gif credit: @1038276637)

In the morning, you dared believe the universe must have a soft spot for you within its core. As soon as your eyes opened, your gaze noted two things. One, Bruce was gone. Two, there was a note with his handwriting on your bedside table.

Without letting your mind run away with the first fact, undoubtedly working itself into a spiral like no other you rolled over to pick up the page. The contents were simple: “Sorry I’m gone. The hospital called to say Alfred had been signed out, so I went to pick him up. See you soon.”

The spark of relief drowned out everything else as you dropped the paper onto the covers and smiled at the ceiling. Everything was still fucked. But this was something. Something that could take your mind off the reality. It was easy to admit that one thought. You missed Alfred. Missed his clever blue-grey eyes that saw through your bullshit. Maybe it was what you needed… Maybe.

The thought was a motivator to drag you out of bed and into the closet, absentmindedly searching for anything you could wear. The first proper wake-up of the morning came when you entered the ensuite and found yourself facing the mirror. Finding mussed hair and a red bruise on your neck. A few more below, scattered like flares across your body. Drawing attention to what happened. Making it impossible for you to deny it, even before yourself. A wave of shame rolled in your stomach, erasing the budding hunger. You turned your head the other way and never looked back until you were ready to leave the bathroom.

It was cold enough for a turtleneck, anyway.

The distraction kicked in as soon as you made your way downstairs. A chorus of voices could be heard coming from the kitchen. A sound you had not heard in the tower since the explosion. A quiet sigh of relief was all the noise you made as you headed into the room. Eager to see what was going on. Having reached the doorway, you peered inside. Bruce was the first one you saw, leaning against the kitchen counter with a timid yet bright smile. He seemed happy. Lighter than when you had first met him.

Another dangerous thought you did not want to entertain. Your gaze slipped over Bruce to settle on Alfred. He was leaning heavily on his cane, but no bandages were in sight anymore. Only a fading yellowish bruise and darker circles underneath his eyes. Dory was talking with him animatedly, her hands gesticulating broadly. A grin broke out on your face as you stepped through the threshold, immediately drawing attention to your arrival. All three pairs of eyes landed on you. Without meaning to, you met Bruce’s gaze first. The look in his eyes shifted, but his face was still open. As if he was happy to see you. Even after the previous night. You never had the time to pull that revelation apart.

“Glad to see you join us, darling” Alfred crossed the remaining space towards you with a bright smile.

Affection filled the caverns of your heart, making it impossible to get rid of that one feeling. The one that reminded you that you had not felt this welcomed anywhere in a very long time. That this, the three of them, almost felt like the home you had lost twenty years ago. You swallowed past the lump in your throat to reply, a cheeky smile masking the emotions tearing through your chest:

“Pardon me, I didn’t know we’ll be having a kitchen party” an answering scoff from Bruce was enough of a validation for the weak joke, “It’s good to see you back, Alfred” you met the butler’s gaze with a fond look of your own, not hiding just how much you had meant it.

You knew he understood, instantly adjusting his stance to open his arms and invite you in for a hug with a quiet croon:

“Oh, c’mere,” you did not need to be asked twice, returning the embrace with care, mindful of his lingering frailty.

But Alfred’s hug was everything but frail, instantly making you sink into the comforting touch you did not know you had missed. After a beat, aware of the company and the prolonged silence, you pulled back, squeezing his arms one last time. Over Pennyworth’s shoulder, you caught Bruce’s gaze again. The softness in his eyes was replaced with something more tender. Almost as if seeing you close to Alfred meant much more to him than he could say. You sent him a small smile as the butler spoke again:

“I see my boy at least had the decency to invite you to stay for longer” the older man threw a pointed look over his shoulder at Bruce before setting his piercing gaze back on you.

You did wonder whether the blush on your cheeks was as telling as you worried it might be. Because there was no escape from it.

“Of course, I-” Bruce’s offended rebuttal was never meant to be heard.

Only because you feared what he might say and whether you could mitigate the effects without the scene dissolving into chaos. You threw Bruce an apologetic smile and interrupted him with faux chirpiness:

“He did. At least until everything settles down in the city,” the apologetic note was not easily eradicated from your voice.

Because no matter what, you still felt like perhaps you were a nuisance to them. Like maybe you should have disappeared a long time ago and never bothered them again. But then Bruce was the one to ask… And the previous night, he seemed happy with you staying… You barely resisted shaking your head against the barrage of thoughts as Alfred remarked:

“Well, we’re certainly not short on space” he glanced at Dory as if awaiting her approval.

You followed his gaze only to see the older woman smile at you warmly. Giving her blessing with your favourite question of the morning:

“Coffee?” she raised the mug to accentuate the gesture.

“From you? Always” there was no need to think as you flashed her your brightest grin and joined the woman by the counter.

Perhaps it was alright for you to stay. Just a little longer.

***

The illusion of peace lasted approximately 32 hours and 27 minutes. It shattered in the afternoon of the second day of Alfred’s return as Dory left the dining room table, leaving you alone with the older man. As if he had been waiting for the occasion to arise, Pennyworth instantly settled his heavy gaze on your face. You got as far as awkwardly clearing your throat before he launched the first question:

“How are you doing?” you knew the nonchalance in his tone was only a means of keeping you calm.

And making you stay at the table, despite the alarm bells in your head urging you to run away. Because hell knew Alfred was damn good at seeing through your bullshit. Unfortunately.

“I’m good,” you pasted what you hoped was a convincing smile.

Hoping it would be enough to deter him. Foolishly.

Alfred leaned forward, putting more weight onto his forearms as he levelled you with another long look:

“Are you?” your heart stumbled in your chest as if begging to say: No, I’m not; he paused, seemingly to find the right words before driving another striking blow, “Because it took me a little over a day to see that things are not exactly easy between you” you could see the tactful turn.

The exact moment when Alfred noticed he needed to be gentle with you. When he saw your fragility and discovered the cause without you needing to say it aloud. That need to run and hide only grew stronger.

“Well… we get on just fine” you shrugged, aware that it was a futile attempt on your side.

It wasn’t a lie. Even after that night, things were fine. As in, Bruce talked to you, still shared his work updates, and checked in on you throughout the day. But he kept his distance. And you tried your best not to dwell on the fact fearing the heartbreak that would follow if you did.

“I know that you do,” compassion in Alfred’s eyes told you he noticed it too, “But I also know Bruce. And I can see that he’s desperately trying to fix something, but he doesn’t know where to start” the hint of hurt in his face was enough to crack your heart.

It was one thing to know you had been hurting Bruce. Another to hear it from someone else. Someone who knew him more than you. A wave of shame threatened to drown you as you gasped quietly and trained your gaze on the table. A lone tear slipped from the corner of your eye and dropped onto the cloth. There would be no more pretending.

“What do you want me to say?” the hysterical note crept into your voice as you heard yourself spill confessions you never dared put into words, “I’m scared, Alfred. Always had been. Because there are feelings that I can’t get rid of no matter what I do” more tears rolled down your cheeks as the desperation you had tried stifling reared its head “I don’t want to hurt him, but…” you trailed off, your voice breaking under the weight of emotions.

But that was it. The truth was spoken for the first time and somehow more terrifying. You knew how it sounded. How utterly pathetic it was to be afraid of the thing many were willing to die for. But you could not help it.

“You’re also hurting yourself, though” Alfred’s gentle statement was enough to make you look up.

You fixed your red-rimmed eyes on his face, resisting the sudden urge to scoff. He was right, but that did not change anything. After twenty years of hurting, what was some more? An eternity? Easy. Much easier than whatever was going on right now.

“That’s inevitable” you could only shrug, staring at him blankly.

Because that’s just the thing. It’s inevitable. There is no outcome where you could have this and walk away unscathed. No such variant of the reality.

From the disbelief on Alfred’s face, you knew he disagreed.

“What if it doesn’t have to be like that?” you opened your mouth to protest, but he did not let you speak just yet, “What if you could have everything you wanted and be happy?” the conviction in his eyes was something you wished you could share.

But you couldn’t. It sounded like a fable, a tale too good to be true. It sounded like your childhood before.

“I don’t think that’s possible” you levelled him with a resigned look and brushed the drying tears from your cheeks.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to burrow underneath the covers and disappear from the world until the morning. Only Alfred had one more thing to say…

“I beg to differ” with his tone urging you to listen, you fell quiet as he continued, “I can’t tell you what to do or think, but… You make him happy” his gaze softened as your heart panged, barely able to sit idly for much longer, “And I know that’s mutual” though there was no need, you nodded weakly, confirming the correct assumption “Love is terrifying, but it’s also worth the pain” unable to withstand the vulnerable moment, you closed your eyes, hiding the pain he could find there; he hit the metaphorical bullseye “Don’t let the fear take it away from you” as Alfred finished the speech you let out a long exhale.

As if sensing you were barely holding on, he stood up from the table and left the dining room. But not without reaching out to squeeze your shoulder first. Only once you were alone did you let the tears flow freely.

You desperately wanted him to be right.

***

Only two days later, things came to a head with the most unexpected beginning. Although it was late, you were still busy with work, reading up on different witness accounts of the aftermath of the flooding. While you were still officially off work for another week, you wanted to make sure you had something to write about as soon as you could. And as much as you wanted to, Riddler’s case was off-limits. The decision was difficult to accept, but it was a no-brainer. You could not write about events that hit so close to home and expect it to be unbiased. And any good at all.

So, with a heavy heart, you began a quest to find something new. To your utmost surprise – Bruce offered to help. And help he did, sharing various stories he has heard during his patrols, dropping hints towards the whispers passed around in the dark. You were more grateful than you knew how to express.

Glancing at the clock in the upper corner of the laptop screen, you groaned at the late hour. Perhaps it was time to finish for the night… Perhaps you could- You never got to end the thought as sudden feedback sound rang out in the study. Its whine made you startle, head snapping up in rapt attention at whatever would follow. That was familiar. A memory from what felt like ages ago. It took you another moment to catch up and recognise the song. The subtle strumming was almost indistinguishable. And then…

You got up before you knew what you were doing. Like a siren call leading sailors to their demise, the increasing volume of the music dragged you down the stairs. Once you got closer, you could hear him sing. Quietly, as if he never wanted anyone to have heard him, but still. His low, gravelly voice was enough to increase the cadence of your heartbeat and make you pick up the pace.

‘You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world’

You knew the lyrics well enough to feel the familiar tension fill your chest when you reached the study and held your breath upon the sight.

‘I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special’

Bruce had his back to you, the broad plane of his shoulders covered with a washed-out black t-shirt. Body hunched over the guitar. Without seeing his face, you knew that his eyes were closed. As the volume grew, his strumming got angrier. Dexterous fingers hit each note as they were supposed to. The pain in his voice perfected the picture and made you tighten your grip on the railing. It was terrifying to think about the song choice and what it meant. Whether it meant anything at all.

The longer you stayed, frozen by the sight, the more you knew you should have never given in to the pull. Because now you could not walk away. Not without talking to Bruce. Even if only just about the music. The longing got almost unbearable.

The guitar’s tone slowed; the riff returned to its gentle opening. Bringing the number to a close. Bruce’s voice turned smooth, rolling over your torn heart like a soothing balm. But only just so. Before you realised it, a solitary tear had rolled down your cheek. You whispered the closing lyrics alongside him:

‘What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

I don't belong here’

Bruce finished the song with a long exhale. For a moment, you contemplated running back up the stairs like you had never been there. But you could not move. Your mouth opened on its own accord:

“You’ve got a beautiful voice” you winced as Bruce flinched, his body tensing as he turned to face you with a shock evident on his face; still, you trudged on and added, “But that was a rather gloomy choice, don’t you think?” an unconvincing smile graced your face.

Because you knew Bruce would see beneath the mask. He would notice the drying tear on your cheek and the pain in your eyes. That one look would be enough for him to tear you apart.

“It felt accurate” Bruce shrugged, his façade drawn up and ready to hide all hints of emotion.

But you could see him look at you, gaze searching and assessing. Noticing everything there was to see. Like he always did. Unable to withstand eye contact much longer, you let your gaze roam as well. Slipping over his forearms and hands, still carefully holding the instrument. As if he expected you to leave so he could continue. But it was not that easy.

“If you’re a creep, then I’m a weirdo” you gathered enough courage to look back up at him, finding Bruce still gazing back; it was enough of an encouragement to make you drop the nonchalance, a veiled confession ready on your tongue “Kindred freaks and all,”

For the first time since he looked at you, you saw Bruce’s mask slip. A flash of surprise passed through his blue eyes and, then, something more tender. The aching chasm in your chest grew wider as you stepped down from the landing and took a step closer to him. The movement woke him up. Bruce took off the guitar strap from around his neck and placed the instrument back on the stand. Silence echoed in the vast room.

“I didn’t think you’d hear me play” when he raised his head again, part of that wall hiding him from you was gone.

In its place, you could see wary curiosity. As if Bruce did not expect to see you tonight or have this conversation. As if you caught him by surprise. For some reason, the idea settled with heavy guilt in your stomach. Because maybe you were trespassing, bothering him with your presence when he would rather be alone. You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat and whispered:

“I’m sorry” your body had half made up its mind to turn around on your hell and march up the stairs.

Like you should have done when he finished the song. A goodbye was ready on your lips before Bruce spoke, making you freeze:

“Did you mean it?” the cautious tone arrested your attention.

As did the fleeting hope in his eyes. Gone so fast you assumed you had imagined it. Your heart skipped a beat as you understood what Bruce was asking. There was only one thing it could be. As if eager to spite you, your mind readily offered the memory. A sentence blurted out in a moment of passion. Your undoing, as it seemed. Heat filled your cheeks as you felt yourself shake. Panic took over; its job was simple – you couldn’t admit it. Not yet. Ideally never. So, you did what you do best.

“Mean what?” a confused smile was ready on your lips, masking the descending terror with a weak attempt at deflection, “The line just now? I-”

You should have known better. Bruce interrupted your pathetic one-woman play with a simple injection:

“You know what I mean” frustration rolled off him in waves, making him clench his hands into tight fists as Bruce stared at you with growing desperation.

Urging you to drop the act. But it was too late. The cold panic had settled, freezing you on the hardwood floors. Freezing your mind on that one thought – you couldn’t tell him. He can’t know.

“Bruce, I’ve no-” you tried again, without the foreign smile and bullshit nonchalance.

In your head, a pleading chorus was rising in volume. Drop it. Please drop it. But Bruce did not want to listen. He took a step closer, briefly reaching out his hand before letting fall back down. As if he wanted to touch you but soon realised that would not do.

“Please, just- Don’t lie to me” his voice broke on the last word, pain squeezing your heart like a vice; it only got worse when Bruce added, “I don’t think I can do this anymore” he glanced at you almost passively.

Almost as if he had not just crushed your heart in the palm of his hand with that one sentence. Cold fear rose in your throat as you took a step forward, voice wavering as you asked the only question you could:

“Do what?” even though you knew.

You could feel it in your bones. Bruce was done with this. With you. You could even guess why. And if that was it, the end, then you could not blame him, only yourself. A new wave of tears rose in your eyes as you waited for Bruce to cut the cord and end your suffering.

“This,” he vaguely waved his hand at the space between you before turning to pace the room, restless energy permeating every cell of his body, “It hurts too much to pretend. And- I mean, it’s pretty obvious. You must know by now” what? The question painted itself in the crease between your eyebrows as Bruce glanced at you with passion in his gaze, begging you to understand, “It’s not like I’m good at hiding it anyway” the following scoff was self-directed, as if Bruce was angry with his actions, or lack of them, as well.

But none of that explained what he meant. The bewilderment was evident on your face. You could tell Bruce saw it because he let out a long frustrated sigh. He stopped pacing, eyes trained on the floor as if taking part in a heated debate you were no part of. You reminded yourself to breathe, still frozen in your spot with no pointers towards where it was going. What was going to happen next. You opened and closed your mouth in a question that never quite came and went back to staring helplessly at Bruce. Fully aware of the pained look in your eyes and the shaking in your hands.

Later, you could pinpoint the moment he snapped. When the silence became too much to bear, and Bruce rushed in to fill it with words. More words than you had ever heard him say, unprompted. He walked back towards you, eyes wide and awake despite the late hour. But nothing you could see in his face warned you of what was coming:

“I know I’m new to this whole thing, but… I think I’m in love with you” oh. Oh. The breath hitched in your chest. The sincerity of his confession was the reason why you swayed on your feet, only just managing to grasp the railing before you fell at his feet – literary and figuratively; before you could process what Bruce had said and what it meant, he trudged on, seemingly unable to stop now that he began talking “Hell, I know I am, because nothing has ever torn me apart and put me back together all at once. No one else, but you” remembering to breathe, Bruce took a greedy inhale as his eyes met yours; the blue of his irises was set ablaze with that emotion you could never quite decipher. Until now, “I’m tired of pretending this is fine when it’s anything but. Nights like that last one are the worst because, for a moment, I get to feel what we could have, but then you- You leave, and it hurts twice as much because I know what I’m missing. What I’ll probably never have unless it’s with you” tears rolled down your cheeks as you stared, feeling the fear and love wage war in your heart. It was almost impossible to understand what was going on. And why the pain in his eyes only seemed to grow with each confession, the words dropping heavily onto the space between you, staining the floorboards with blood and despair. Yet still, Bruce’s next words slashed your heart anew, “And sometimes, I think… I think that maybe you’re the same” he looked at you again, the unasked question evident on his face.

A question you could not answer. The fear had won, claiming reign over your head and heart as you stared back. Still too frozen to move. Still unable to understand what had just happened. Bruce loved you. He was in love with you. He reciprocated, even though he did not know it. Fuck. All at once, you wanted to howl - be it from joy or pain, you could not decide. What now?

Your thoughts rushed a hundred miles per hour, spiralling and panicking. Worrying about every single what-if you could think of. All your mouth could form was a plea:

“Bruce, please- Don’t-” you did not even know what you were begging for.

Mercy, mostly. But with every second passing, you began to understand there was no way out of this. For better or for worse.

As if reading your feverish thoughts, Bruce closed the gap between you and reached out a careful hand, letting his fingers skim down the length of your forearm. Immediately, he had drawn attention to the chill you could feel settling in your bones as goosebumps followed his tentative touch. The sole-minded focus was still in his eyes:

“I swear I’ll leave you alone, detach myself from whatever is going on between us, if you’ll tell me I’m wrong” softening his voice a notch, Bruce searched your face, looking for the answers himself, “Tell me you don’t think of me like that and I’ll let it go. I promise” his hand clasped around yours, squeezing your palm as a reassurance that he meant it “Just tell me- Tell me you don’t love me” there, simple.

Or not so simple at all. A shudder went through your body as Bruce repeated the cursed word. Now it was entirely in your hands. The weight was resting on your shoulders, waiting for you to choose. For a second, you considered taking the way out that was still there. Faint and going against every promise you had made to yourself, but it still existed. You could deny everything, tell him he had it all wrong, lie and flee the scene with only the price of Bruce’s wounded heart on your conscience. But you couldn’t. Could not make yourself consider it beyond the basic set of assumptions and potentials.

Instead, you could only offer him an incomprehensible stutter, a collection of sounds paired with the colour draining from your face:

“I can’t- I-” the desire to run was still there, growing stronger with each second Bruce had spent staring at you.

He must have read it in your eyes for the moment you turned on your heel, body poised to run up the stairs, his arms were around you in a second. Caging you with your back pressed to his chest. Your shocked gasp was the only sound you could make.

“Don’t run away from me now,” Bruce’s plea was whispered right into your ear, making you shiver, “Please” only once you had the time to breathe, you noticed how lose his hold was; it would not take much to free yourself, should you want to “I’ve got you” the reassurance got through the white noise in your ears, making you relax.

Even if just by a fraction. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath at your back, the wisps of air across the back of your neck and cheek. One of his hands traced small circles on your arm, slowing your heart rate to a manageable pace. That was it. You couldn’t run from it anymore. You took a deep breath before you spoke:

“I’m so scared,” the admission was easy enough to utter.

A fragment of truth you owed Bruce. The reason for everything, as he would come to understand very soon. His embrace tightened slightly as he pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. It was almost enough to quieten the panic.

“I know, my love. Trust me. I know” the gratitude at his understanding was quickly overshadowed by the nickname he used.

The heart stuttered in your chest, unable to process it. My love. Two words that had never been aimed at you; have never related to you. A term of endearment you had come to envy in the quiet of your heart, yearning for something you never expected to have. But here it was, within your reach. If only you were brave enough to take it.

You closed your eyes, willing the courage to fill your veins as you pressed your back to Bruce’s chest. He wouldn’t hurt you. The statement filled your head like a mantra as you slowly forced more words out:

“You see me. The real me and it’s scary because what if you come to hate me? I don’t think I could survive that” it all came out in a rush of breath, leaving you gasping.

But it was out there. The truth for Bruce to hear and take in. The bravery was draining the energy from your body as you waited for a reply, a comment – anything at all. Anything to show you he understood.

He did not disappoint, offering you another gentle squeeze before speaking:

“I could never hate you” the certainty in Bruce’s voice was what you later considered as the thing that tipped the scales.

Because, for once, you pushed against the denial and believed him. After all, Bruce was the one with more to lose. The first to reach out. To come clean before you. Goddamn it, if he was brave enough, maybe you could be too… Maybe.

Cold shivers ran through your body as you tried to give voice to the words that had been choking you for days. If not weeks. You never thought to keep track and were too busy keeping them in. Despite everything. Perhaps there was no better time than now.

You squeezed Bruce’s hand to assure him you were not running away and turned in the embrace. It was better that way. Proper. You met his boundless gaze, now filled only with hope and the feeling you had recognised as the love he spoke of. It was enough. With a shaking voice, you released the confession from the prison you had made for it:

“Christ, I- I- I love you” the words came out wavered, and your breath stuttered with each syllable, but the light in his eyes was a reason to go on, “So fucking much it kills me” now that you started, the admissions did not seem to stop, slipping through your lips in a steady stream, slowly gaining speed “I’ve no idea when it happened, only that now you’re all I can think about. Every day, I go crazy because of you. Because I want you so much, I don’t know what to do with all those feelings. Sometimes it feels as though they’re going to tear my heart apart” running out of steam, you swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in your throat; it felt like a fraction of the weight had been lifted, now drowning in the blue gaze that did not stray away from your face. There was one last thing to add, a conclusion stating the obvious “But I’m still afraid,” the cursed punchline you did not seem able to shake off.

Only now, once the words were out, you allowed yourself to look back at Bruce. His shy smile acted like a magnet, drawing out your helpless twist of mouth. Your eyes followed the line of his nose (slightly crooked to the right) up to his eyes. Instantly drowning within the depths of blue irises filled with affection. Almost as if what you revealed did not change anything for him. As if, somehow, it would be alright. He would try rather than run away from you and your complex feelings no one seemed to fully comprehend. Not even you yourself. Too lost in his eyes, you only noticed he had reached up to touch you when you felt the gentle thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. Caressing your skin and quelling the worries.

“Of what?” Bruce’s simple question acted like the needed push in the right direction.

A reason to put into words and label what you never dwelled on. But now, you had no choice but to piece it apart. Even if only because Bruce deserved it from you. He earned an attempt at trying from you. Because, when faced with the reality that he felt the same, you knew you could not deny it anymore. It was terrifying. And oh, so hopeful. You let the feelings in his eyes anchor you in the moment as you spoke:

“That you’re going to leave. Or something takes you away from me” you could see the recognition pass through his face, making the addition nearly redundant “I don’t have a great track record with love” still, the sad scoff could not be kept in.

There was something freeing in seeing the knowing look on Bruce’s face. In knowing that he understood the feeling, perhaps better than anyone else ever could. That, no matter what happened next, you were placing your heart in the palm of someone who gets it. That you had fallen for that same boy you felt a kinship with days after your childhood ended. It was almost poetic.

“I don’t plan on leaving” when Bruce gave voice to the affirmation, you wanted to believe him.

Because he said it before. Every time you let your insecurities win. You clenched your teeth against the denial bubbling beneath the surface and asked a question:

“Why?” hoping he would know what you meant.

It was the only way you knew of asking him why you were the one to make him care. Why you? Bruce only smiled in response, leaning in to kiss your forehead before effortlessly meeting your gaze and baring his heart. Again.

“Because you’re incredible, beautiful, smart, and you see me. You see Bruce Wayne where everybody else sees a symbol, an idea of who I am” the sincerity of his words made your heart seem too big for your chest, each beat threatening to be the one that would make it implode, “Only you see me as I am” as did the gratitude and love in his gaze.

Showing you that the feeling was mutual. You saw Bruce just as he saw you. Like no one else did. The discovery was enough to make you sure – it was worth it.

Aware of the likely sparks in your eyes and the foolishly lovesick look on your face, you cleared your throat and whispered a question:

“Can I kiss you?” you did not know why it felt necessary to ask when you never did before.

When it was probably a given, considering everything he just said. The only thing you were sure of was that you had to let him know. Had to show how much it meant to hear him say it.

Bruce’s fond smile was an answer enough, but he still brushed away your concerns.

“You don’t have to ask” leaning in, he nudged your nose with his and waited for your decisive move.

After all, it was you who had asked. Getting onto your tiptoes, you returned the playful nudge and placed your hands on his shoulders. From then on, everything was a reflex and acting on well-practised instincts. Your eyes closed as you leaned in, slotting your lips over his in a tender kiss. Bruce responded immediately, tightening his hold over your waist and opening his mouth underneath your tentative tongue. The kiss quickly turned heated, drawing out a muffled gasp from your throat and a half-stifled whine from his. Your fingers tangled in the hair on the nape of his neck as you gently sank your teeth into his bottom lip. Enough so to make Bruce groan and pull you closer.

That long-buried, sentimental part of your brain could tell this kiss tasted different. More carefree, unrestrained. Nothing stopped you from tracing the confessions on his skin as your tongue whispered words only Bruce could hear. You did not think anyone ever kissed you quite like that. Like it was the only thing he wanted to do until the end of time. Like the time spent caressing your lips and body was his holy ritual and never a waste of time. Like it mattered enough to be something Bruce devoted his attention to. Until you broke the contact to catch a breath, you were only his, and he was yours. Then, as your eyes met again, wearing matching infatuated looks, the kiss became a promise of more to come. You noted his blushing cheeks and offered a remark:

“I like what you called me, by the way” from the way Bruce’s eyes lit up instantly, you knew it was no slip of the tongue.

Even more so, it was a reason for your heart to beat faster. He meant it.

“My love?” his gaze traced the movement of your tongue, licking your drying lips.

And collecting the remains of the taste of his kiss. A pleasant shiver ran through your body as Bruce repeated the endearment. You could get used to it.

“Yeah, that’s new” you nodded, not even trying to school your features and erase the hope blooming there.

Bruce smiled, drawing out a gasp from your lips as his fingers crept beneath your shirt, lightly touching the skin on your waist. It almost distracted you from his next words.

“It can stay if you want,” without needing Bruce to elaborate, you knew what it meant; the feeling only grew stronger as he added, “If you’ll stay,” a meaningful pause signing off the conditional.

If. You still had a choice. At least, Bruce seemed to think so. What he did not know was that you had already decided. Or that your heart has chosen for you. There was no alternative there. But the slightest bit of uncertainty in his eyes told you he needed an answer:

“I’ll try to” the honest reply was a perfect opening for another question, one that you had been holding back for a while, “Are you mine?”

It was the final assurance you needed from Bruce if only to convince your head it was safe to give him your heart, body, and soul. For as long as he was willing to have them. For as long as he would have you.

Bruce used his unoccupied hand to squeeze your palm as he lowered his head to catch your eye. You had no doubt he caught the nerves lurking there; impossible to be exiled entirely. Unknowingly, you held your breath, waiting for his answer as if the world depended on it.

“If you’re mine,” Bruce’s reply was simple, bringing out your chuckle at the banter you had fallen into.

The joy was reciprocated, too, if the creases at the corners of his eyes were anything to go by. Not for the first time since you had met, you had been struck by a thought, a recognition that he was beautiful. The sharp features and striking eyes always pulled you in and made it impossible to look away. To stray your eyes from his. To find anyone else worth looking at. At this moment, in the dark gothic study, lit up only by the fireplace and the lamp, you knew it was always a lost cause. You had lost a long time ago.

Instead of replying, you kissed him quickly, relishing in the sharp gasp you got in return. When you parted, an answer was easy to conjure:

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one willing to put up with this” upon Bruce’s questioning look, you motioned at the meagre space between you, highlighting the truth he might have missed.

That there was no competition there. Only Bruce was willing to endure you for this long and in this way. He was the only one wanting your love and loving you back. You were not quite ready to piece apart why (or how) that could be.

“I’ve always been told I’m relentless” the cheeky uptick of Bruce’s mouth was a hypnotizing sight.

You did not miss the telling glimmer in his eye or the smooth move which resulted in your body being pulled closer to his. Almost flush against his chest. It was impossible to deny your brain’s desire to offer you a recap of every moment you had shared which had begun in that way. And to stifle the shiver and the knowledge that, if the universe were gracious, you would have many more coming. The reminder was enough to make you smile and return the playful smirk:

“Good for me” struck with sudden weariness and feeling the rapidly dropping adrenaline, you tugged Bruce’s hand and wordlessly led him towards the sofa; only once you had fallen onto the cushions with a sigh and curled up next to him, you asked the question “What happens now?”

You knew Bruce would get what you meant. He always did.

You felt him shift, one arm coming up to rest around your shoulders, drawing you closer. The other hand was placed on your knee, providing gentle warmth and helping you stay present with him. It was almost too easy to let go and fall back on his constant support to keep you grounded. The doubts were still there, rising and falling like the natural ebb and flow of the tide, lapping at the edges of your conscience. You suspected they would probably always be there, somewhere. Ready to take over at the tiniest chance of something going wrong. The best you could do was hope that would never happen.

As if sensing your mental chatter getting louder, Bruce leaned in to leave a trail of kisses on the shell of your ear and nuzzled your temple. The resulting sigh was effortless on your part. As always.

“We try not to fuck it up” he had his answer ready, eyes trained on you and waiting for whatever might come up.

You had to admit it sounded simple. Almost doable. But…

“And if we do?” you turned to catch his eyes with what you knew to be a wild gaze.

You needed Bruce to say it. To promise he would fight for whatever you were to become. It had to work. Please. You already knew you would be willing to sacrifice a lot for this fragile thing between you. It was already a fact.

A fact Bruce could undoubtedly see in your gaze, for the confidence bled into his voice as he replied:

“Then we’ll try harder” he grabbed your hand, which restlessly picked at the loose thread on the hem of your shirt and squeezed it.

On a reflex, you threaded your fingers through his and pressed your palms together. You had no choice but to trust him. To do the unimaginable and place your heart in his hands, surrendering control in the process. You swallowed past the fear in your throat and pressed your mouth to the corner of his lips. It felt like an apt conclusion to the conversation long overdue.

A little later, once another kiss had ended, and a new one had not yet begun, you raised your head from its comfortable placement on Bruce’s shoulder and fixed your gaze on the black and white guitar resting on its stand. An in-direct reason you had the conversation in the first place. You briefly contemplated sending a thank-you letter to the manufacturer but were struck with a better idea.

“Bruce?” taking pleasure in how his name rolled off your tongue, you marvelled at the rare peacefulness of the moment.

There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to do. Nothing, but feeling the low rumble of his voice as Bruce hummed.

“Mm?” he kept tracing letters onto the skin of your arm, leaving you to guess their meaning on your own.

Sometimes you were willing to bet he was repeating the confessions he just spoke of. The thought drew an involuntary smile onto your face.

“Play me something” you met his gaze with that same affectionate look in your eyes.

There was no need to specify the request - you knew Bruce would choose well. He only grinned at you in response and disentangled from your embrace to stand up and pick up the instrument. You watched his forearms flex, tendons dancing beneath the pale skin as Bruce placed the strap around his neck and bowed over the guitar. His eyes closed in concentration, but he was not tense. It was a far cry from how you found him over an hour before.

With a breath trapped in your chest, you awaited the first notes. When he began the rhythmic strumming, a fond chuckle escaped your lips. You had to admit Bruce was nothing, if not predictable. Humming the chorus alongside him, you met his questioning gaze. You smiled, mouthing the words that were no longer forbidden. Love you. Sweetheart.

“Something in the way, huh?” the laugh spilling through the gaps between the vowels.

“What? You did not specify” teasing edge you would have never even imagined becoming so accustomed to.

“I knew I didn’t have to,” and then, just to see him roll his eyes with that enamoured exasperation “Babe,”

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ladyelissarose · 1 year

Text

“The Secrets Of Gotham-Unmasked” Warnings: plot twist, guns mentioned, lots of angst, violence, be prepared to read this long-awaited chapter!!! Thank you for being so patient and supportive!

Chp. 31

Bruce’s POV

The ceremony was almost over as the time ticked to ‘8:45’, and the ceremony finished at ‘9:00’.

‘Thank god this is almost over.. I’m so sick of all of these hypocrites. I’d rather have my ass kicked in an alley than sit here.. for real.’

By then he knew Y/n wouldn’t be there anymore, she should be getting to the sea wall by now, or at least he thought. The last speaker of the night was Mackenzie, but right now it was Gordon who was finishing his,

“I will never understand why good people are taken from us, people that only wanted good for the city, who put everyone else but themselves first. And that’s exactly who Detective Y/l/n was, and I sincerely hope, that everyone of you can learn from her, so we can live in a safe city. Thank you.”

Silence followed Gordon as he left the podium, all that could be heard was the flashing of cameras and a few mumblings here and there. Gordon approached Bruce and patted his shoulder before he passed him from where he sat and left he room to have some privacy. He walked into a waiting room and locked the door, and sat on a couch that was there. Gordon mainly left only because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand in the same room as Mackenzie as he spoke with hypocrisy and lies, he had already been threatened by a few men to not say anything and if he did they’d kill him, so he had to forcefully choose his words and actions wisely. His thoughts ran through every cell in his brain of trying to find a way to say something or find help,

‘I need to get help somehow, it’s too risky to leave to find or call Chief, the Mayor wouldn’t necessarily understand or react as fast as I need.. what do I do? What should I do?’

Y/n’s POV

Y/n made a hole in the wall and through a frame to watch Gordon as he sat on the couch holding his head and sighing deeply, as if he was aggravated. She felt terrible through it all but had already come to the conclusion of what she should do, so she made her next move when she walked out of the small space she was in, and walked into the room hiding her face,

‘Please don’t shoot me Boss.’

Gordon’s POV

Though he was deep in thought his senses were still on HIGH alert, so of course Gordon heard the soft steps that were approaching him, making him sit up and draw his gun out on whom he thought was one of Mackenzies goons or someone else coming to hurt him like they had threatened earlier. Instead he stood in front of an uninvited guest, standing in front of him in a defensive stance,

‘I don’t care who you are you’re going down-‘

Gordon’s finger landed on the trigger and was about to pull it when the suited up person who was Y/n which he didn’t know said in a desperate tone raising her hands,

“Hold on! Hold on!”

Instantly Gordon put his finger off the trigger bit still held it in a vulnerable position, in case he changed his mind, and he asked in a serious tone filled with a certain rage and confusion,

“What do you mean hold on?!”

Y/n then attempted to move her hand to her mask to pull it off but Gordon thought she was going to pull out a weapon so he screamed at her as he put his finger back on the trigger,

“Don’t move! Put your hands up or I’ll-“

“Hold on don’t shoot! Wait!! Wait!-“

Gordon began to grow nervous as he stepped closer and became more convinced within himself to pull the trigger without a second thought of who the person was, so he began to confess,

“Listen I don’t know what you want I didn’t say anything, so if you move a step closer I’ll shoot you-“

“Gordon, listen to me-“

“Why?!-“

“Because then you’ll kill the only person that has a chance to save you, then I’ll really end up in a casket.”

And that’s when it clicked for Gordon,

‘Y/n? I knew it.’

Gordon then dropped his weapon and put it back on his belt as he said in a sarcastic tone with a hint of pain,

“Mother fucker.. you’re alive?”

Y/n brought her hand slowly to her face and pulled off her mask revealing her face as she shook her head slowly saying in a guilty voice,

“yeah.. I am, I-I never died, I’m so sorry.”

Gordon gestured ‘no’ with his head as he let out a deep breath with a small chuckle that shook his shoulders,

“As much as I want to stay mad at you I can’t, there’s no reason kid.”

Y/n let out a tiny crooked smile saying calmly but truthfully,

“You’re a good cop boss, regardless of how everyone else is, you know?”

“And you’re a good person Y/n, just like your father, never giving up no matter what.”

They both stood in silence for a couple of seconds as they took in the comfortable and familiar presence of each other until Gordon said suddenly,

“Come here and give me a hug kid.”

Y/n’s face grew a megawatt smile as she sprinted to him and embraced him tightly, she felt a few tears escape her eyes as she put forth between sniffles,

“I really wanted to tell you but I couldn’t, not when I knew it could cost you everything. I had to keep you safe, even if that meant I couldn’t tell you about me. But either way, I’ll always have your back boss.”

“I know partner, I know. Thanks for coming back.”

Calling her partner caused that old warmth to deep into her chest again, like a muscle memory of what used to be so often a long time ago,

“I’ll always come back.. I have to, especially when there’s still good people around here that need help, like you. Now, I got a plan to take them down, but we can’t be here, we have to go. I’ll tell you on the way, just follow me.”

Gordon took her extended arm as she led them both out of the room through a secret lonely hall and they were soon on their way to the seawall. The place where their plan would take place, where secrets would be unmasked and discovered, the truth would finally be told, and justice would come to serve.

Batman’s POV

The wind hit against his mask harshly as a storm was beginning to take place that very night, he could smell the incoming rain with the mixture of the pollution of the city, he could hear the distant sounds of the cars from high roads near by but it didn’t block the subtle thunders that rumbled in the sky announcing its storms’ soon arrival. His heart beat wildly against his chest and his head began to hurt for how hard he was thinking, or more clearly, overthinking. He knew the plan, and understood the fact that he’d be able to execute it, but the fact of how things could go sideways so unexpectedly scared him, especially when he knew that the love of his life was a part of this plan. Y/n Y/l/n, soon to be Y/n Wayne, was the main subject to this, she’d be the one to be exposed in order to catch her offenders red handed. Bruce trusted his fiancée, but didn’t trust what destiny held for them, no matter how the fought to change it, he’d do anything to make things right, but life is never fair. And now, the Batman stands on the seawall in the darkest corner filled with shadows, waiting for their coming, and as much as he hated it, he was unfortunately their backup. But it was for his safety, the RedHood was most likely going to be out tonight, hunting for him to take him as bait for his wicked boss, Professor Strange. So Alfred and Saunders had suggested that he’d stay behind a little, unless things got out of hand then of course he’d spring out and take them down. There was no way he was leaving Y/n on her own completely. Soon he heard the sound of oncoming cars, most likely their guests,

‘This is it.. now where are you Y/n, you should be around here any minute now.’

The beginning of the plan was for Y/n to be coming on to them as soon as Mackenzie and his men got off their vehicles and traded their drops and cash for the false evidence with the corrupt feds. But Batman couldn’t see any sign of her anywhere, causing his skin to crawl with worry and anticipation,

‘Come on Y/n, where are you? Don’t let them get away, only you can do this-‘

“Did you think the shadows would be too dark for me to find you?”

A soft but firm voice rumbled like an echo through the darkness Batman stood in, but he knew all to well who it was, so he called out to him,

“Jason Todd.”

Batman turned around to see Jason Todd in all his glory, Jason held a large, dark grey pistol in his left hand, and held the long, infamous crowbar in his right hand. Though RedHood wore a mask, Batman knew he was smirking behind it as he said,

“So Bats.. Wanna start now, or now?”

Y/n’s POV

Y/n sped her way down the road on her bike after she dropped Gordon off with his car at a near by place that was close to the seawall, she didn’t want him there directly, it was to dangerous for him, even more when he was threatened to not approach Mackenzie’s vendetta. She had already debriefed him about the plan and told him how she was hoping and expecting it to go down, she also expressed how terrified she was, but Gordon being the father-figure he was for Y/n, he reassured her that there was nothing to worry about, that if she had come this far, it was because there was nothing in her way to stop her now. She had arrived at her hiding spot, where she’d get a clear view of what was about to take place, she could feel a familiar presence there, hiding in the distance waiting for their imaginative plan finally come to life. Y/n crept closer before taking out her brothers X-Noculars that had come in handy, she looked through them to get a better look at Mackenzie and the men that arrived with him,

‘Alright.. step on is done: arrive. Now we must wait for the feds to come here to.. though I see Mackenzie didn’t bring much company, it’s just him, William Kenzie, and a couple other goons.. hey- that’s the silent man.. daaaamn, wonder what he’s up to now, who’s side is he really on?’

Y/n watched from where she was as 3 black SUVs began to show up,

‘That’s gotta be the Feds, alright.. we’re almost there.’

Lights taps of the soft, falling rain began to make a small rhythmic noise on her leather jacket, signaling that soon she’d probably be soaked, but that was the last thing on her mind, as Mackenzies goons caught her attention when they started to bring out her white casket, that had the money and everything they needed for the trading. She watched with anticipation as the Feds began to leave their vehicle with a box in their hands. The silent man and William Kenzie walked towards them carrying the casket. William Kenzie was wearing all black while the silent man wore the same plus his mask to which you could only see his eyes. Y/n’s hands began to shake as she saw them communicating, by this point she should of gone and intervened, but she was paralyzed in fear, not knowing or remembering what to do. Until she remembered who this was for, for her father was whom she had fought for this whole time, for his legacy and name.

‘Whether this goes down the right or wrong way.. I’m doing this for you dad, for mom.. yeah.. for me too. Let’s do this.’

The Silent Mans POV

The Silent Man helped Kenzie carry the casket towards the feds, he knew what was about to happen next, and his heart was more than ready to jump in on it, he had been waiting for his entire life, to finally see the walls coming down.

‘We’re almost there.. I’m doing this for my wife.. and our little Jr., justice for them.’

The Feds signaled them both to put it down and open it, as they placed it gently on the ground they could see that it was getting a little wet, the rain was beginning to fall faster, much to The Silent Mans dismay. As much as The Silent Man was brave and had seen shit back and forth, it didn’t stop him from naturally being terrified of the future, even if they had plans on how to gear it, life could be a bitch anyways and hit them like a train of bricks. Hearing his heartbeat in his ears and feeling the rush of boiling blood that flowed in his body almost made him miss the order the Feds gave them when they said,

“Open the casket, I need to see your side of the payment first.”

Kenzie immediately messed with the locks code and opened it to reveal the wads of cash and ridiculous amount of packages of drops. The main Fed walked up to the casket slowly and grabbed a bundle of cash into his hand and he let his fingers brush through it to see if it was indeed real, then he reached for a package of drops to do the same, his actions made Mackenzie scoff,

“It’s all real Sir, let’s just get this over with, take it all.”

The Fed shook his head and began to stand saying,

“It is all indeed real, Bock Mackenzie. And you wanted to give me this in trade for?-“

“For the evidence you processed for Y/n Y/l/n. For her case. Remember?”

The Fed smiled triumphantly as he reached for the box from the other Fed he was with, and handed it to the Silent Man, gesturing him to give it to Mackenzie, and with a deep tone of certainty and calamity he said,

“Give it to him, Agent.”

Before anyone could register what the Fed has said, the Silent Man took a gun out of the box he was holding and pointed it at Mackenzie shouting,

“Federal Agents!! Drop your weapons and step away from your vehicle!!”

Y/n’s POV

In the spilt moment a tall person came into view as well shouting,

“GCPD Drop the weapons- WAIT WHAAAT?!”

It was Y/n that had finally come to her destined moment, to only realize,

‘The Feds were playing us the entire time!!! The Silent Man was an undercover agent!!! What?!?’

Mackenzie’s POV

In seconds more Feds came into view as they surrounded Mackenzie and his men, making Bock angry to have fallen for the Silent Mans schemes so easily,

‘It was a fucking set up!! I knew this guy was from somewhere! Stupid priest had him working for us the entire time and we all didn’t even know!’

Y/n’s POV

Y/n pulled down her mask to let Mackenzie see the face of the person he had been after this whole time but never was able to get her gripped into his red painted hands, she eyed him with fury, as she spoke,

“Get on your knees Mackenzie, we’re turning you in.”

Mackenzies eyes went wide at seeing her face, oh the desire he had to have had gotten her sooner, he knew she’d be able to pull it all off, but that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy either, so Mackenzie smirked and scoffed,

“You seriously think I’m going down that easily?”

“Try me.”

“Bet. RAIN GUN FIRE!!”

Y/n turned in that split second and screamed,

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!!”

BANGBANGBANGBANG!!!!!!!

If they all had thought that the bright, striking lightning of the skies were bright, the now non-stop fire of their guns made their eyes go blind. The Silent Man dragged Y/n with him to hide behind the SUVs the Feds came in and he ordered her as the bullets flew everywhere trying to get them,

“Mackenzies doing this to buy him time to escape-“

“We can’t let him go!-“

“I know! Come on, I know where he’s going to hide, he had a whole escape plan ready for just in case-“

Y/n stopped him before he could move and asked with doubt in her features,

“You don’t think he’ll change it now that he knows you were never on his side??!”

The Silent Mans eyed bored into hers as he thought about her last question, she could be right, but he didn’t know, he shook that thought away with a new question,

“Ok, I’m not sure about your last one, but we either way need to find a way around all of this-“

VRRROOOOOMMMMM! SCREEEEECH!!

Bullets bounced off a black, roaring Challenger that looked all to familiar in Y/n’s eyes, her smiled beamed brightly as the Silent Man shouted over the bullets and men shouting,

“WHO’S THAT!”

Y/n didn’t waste a second more as she grabbed the Silent Mans arm and pulled him with her as the door was opened for them, so she told him,

“Thats my ride come on!!”

The door blocked the flying bullets so they were able to get in the Batmobile safely, once the door was closed Y/n turned to see the driver as she had expected Bruce aka Batman, but instead it was,

“Uncle G!? What the heck-“

“I know what you’re going to say, but Batguy is a little busy-“

“What do you mean busy??”

“RedHood showed up here.”

Y/n groaned in worry as she could imagine how Bruce must be struggling to fight with this kid who’s only mission was to kill. The Silent Man then commented,

“I thought they’d hold him off until later. At least that’s what the Professor had said-“

Uncle G was speeding away from the scene but almost braked when he heard another voice in the car, he hadn’t realized that Y/n had brought a guest,

“And who the hell are you!!!-“

“Uncle G this is the Silent Man I was telling you about, he’s a good guy, actually a Federal Agent! Now tell me where Mackenzie was going to be. Direct us.”

The Silent Man crowned at the nickname she gave him, but shrugged it off as he adjusted himself in his seat. Y/n was squished in the middle between the men, it was a tight fit but manageable for this time only. Though Y/n’s jacket was held from the hood by the Silent Man so she wouldn’t be completely out of grip or reach sense Saunders was speeding like a crazy man taking directions to find Mackenzie. By this time the rain poured more heavily and the thunder roared so loudly it was almost intimidating to think what the skies were capable of.

Batman’s POV

Taking and giving hits, Batman had already knocked out the gun from the RedHoods hands and tossed it into the sea that was behind them, wanting to not risk the fact that the trigger could be pulled and either of them could be seriously injured, if not killed. Hearing loud shoutings and multiple gunshots from the distance which was where Y/n was suppose to be only made Batman stomach turn and stab in pain, but he couldn’t run from the problem he was in now. Batman could tell that the serum was stronger this time and had more severe control of this boys mind, even though he fought like a man, The RedHood, Jason Todd, who was actually Y/b/n Y/l/n, was still just a young man, only 17. The whole time they fought Batman tried to communicate with him,

“Jason this isn’t you! Let go!”

Taking a sharp breath in Jason shouted back as he swung the crowbar onto Batman’s ribs, hearing a couple of cracks in the process,

“Shut up old man! I’m never leaving!!!”

Batman received more hits to the head and back with the crowbar, but he returned it with harsh kicks to RedHoods legs and sides, trying to make him go down, but Jason Todd didn’t let up, he was a war machine at this point. Soon the hits from Jason Todd we’re getting more fierce and hurtful, which was making Batman angry and his body started to demand the adrenaline he needed to not give up. Batman wasn’t angry at Jason Todd, or the RedHood, but he was angry because of what monsters in this world were capable of making, creating, and changing.

Someone so innocent and open to save a dark world was now someone that needed saving from this dark world and its vengeance to get back at something no one had control of, something he couldn’t change. Batman could also feel the fury that was coming out of the RedHoods strikes, but he didn’t want to fight the RedHood, he wanted to save him. So, in the next move that was made to strike the Batman in the face, the RedHoods wrist was caught and pulled back behind him, making him shout in pain. Jason thought he’d be able to twist his way out of the Batman’s grip, but that only made him sprain his own wrist.

“AHHHHH!!!!”

Taking the RedHoods moment of distraction from pain, Batman grabbed the RedHoods mask and yanked it off as he pushed him away from him, leaving him only holding the RedHoods crowbar and mask. His back hit the cold, wet pavement on the floor, grunting in pain the RedHood laid there for a few seconds until he said,

“You really want to see my naked face before you die huh?”

The Batman scoffed in disbelief,

‘You just won’t give up huh? Then show me what you got, son.’

As the RedHood laid on the floor the Batman walked up to him slowly, determined to get him furious, so he could wear him out, and inject him. High adrenaline was the only way the antidote would spread into his system more rapidly, saving his life quicker. And Batman, knew just how to get Jason Todd angry, furious, full of rage. Standing over him now the Batman said in his gravely voice,

“Me or you? Y/b/n Y/l/n...”

The RedHoods colored orbs shot up to look at his opponent, and darkness filled them in mere seconds, in a raspy voice, the RedHood said,

“You’re a dead man.”

#batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #the batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #the batman #battinson x you #battinson fanfiction #battinson x reader #battinson x y/n #battinson x female reader #jason todd x reader #batman angst #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne and jason todd #bruce wayne angst

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imagine--if · 2 years

Note

Could you do a short drabble/blurb that's full of fluff for Battinson? Maybe he just gets an ounce more confidence and takes the lead in telling his girl how pwetty she is 😍

A/N: Can do, enjoy!! He's so precious, I love him 🖤

Pairing: Battinson x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Fluff 🥰

Words: 234

There are still slight smudges of dark makeup around his eyes as he engulfs you in a hug, a long, shaky, relieved breath leaving him as you hug him back. The nights as Batman are needed, but they're so long when he knows you're at the Manor, waiting for him so patiently.

He pulls away enough to look at you properly, staring in lovestruck awe. You're so beautiful, so unique... Gotham doesn't deserve you. Hell, he doesn't deserve you, but here you are. Bruce has to keep going, keep living, to protect you. For you.

His hand makes its way to your face, fingers brushing your cheek so delicately, as he leans in and rests his forehead against yours, his dark gaze melting into your own.

"I missed you," Bruce admits quietly, shyly, and you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as he continues. "You look so... angelic."

"I missed you too," you mumble back, pressing your lips against his briefly, to which he instinctively chases your lips with a soft whine.

"I can't live without you," Bruce whispers, his expression clouded with usually hidden vulnerability as his hold on you tightens desperately. "Say you'll never leave me. Please."

You run your fingers through his hair, quietly gushing him as he leans into your touch, sighing contentedly at your response as a tired smile tugs at his lips.

"I'll never leave you. Ever."

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Friends with Benefits with Bruce Wayne

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, one-night stand, hickies, creampie, slight angst, friends with benefits, stress release, mutual pining

A/N: I'm writing a Jason fic yesterday and I was struck with Battinson inspiration. Take it.

Just one night of sex, that was all it was supposed to be with Bruce. He was stressed and you could see it was eating him up, making him sloppy, you wanted to help him release some of that stress. Just one time. Turned into two, then three, and... who knows what time this was.

"H-Hey, Bruce! Ah! Slow down!" He wasn't, Bruce just grunted, getting closer to you as he locked his arms around you as best he could from behind. Another warm spurt of cum flooded your insides, making your body shake and give up on you, going limp in his arms. "Too... too much." You mumbled into the pillow you were gripping with your remaining strength.

"Was it?" His smugness was evident in his voice, and his smile as he nuzzled against the marked skin of your back. A kiss here, a lick there, a little bite on your neck, an imprint of his hands on your hips and thighs, and neck.

You exhaled a shaky breath when he pulled out a bit, not all the way just yet, it felt too good having his cock inside you and he knew it, "Bruce, this is the tenth night you visited me. I need to rest." Part of you didn't want to have rest, part of you wanted to keep him here longer, but another part of you thought it was selfish. Bruce didn't belong to you, Batman didn't belong to you, his heart didn't belong to you, it all belonged to Gotham. The only thing that did belong to you was his cock for a couple of hours a night, when he felt high from adrenaline and stress.

Your pussy clenched around his tip, getting a few more drops of cum from his balls. His limp cock rubbed against your thighs, smearing them with his release and yours, "Thank you." You knew that meant. It meant he wasn't staying tonight. If he was he wouldn't say a word to you, he'd just pull you against him and fall asleep. Those were better nights. "Do you want me to..." His fingers passed through your pussy folds, circling your opening.

Despite your twitch you knew that keeping him here would only hurt more, "You have a city to go back to Bruce. I'll be here when you need me." There was a hint of dejectedness seeping into your voice that you desperately tried to avoid.

Without another word he nodded and started putting his suit back on, slowly, like he was waiting for something that never happened.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Same time." He was already one leg out the window when he paused to look back at you, "Or, I could take you out for drinks first, if you prefer." Not even giving you a chance to reply he blended back into the night, the only evidence he was here being the mess between your legs and on your bed.

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peachinthenight · 1 year

Text

Embers

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Rated: M

Read on AO3

Warnings: PiV smut, oral (f receiving), bruce being a mcr fan

Summary: Every day, you learn more and more about your boyfriend. Today, you learn he is quite a musician. 3.5k words

You had an awful day at work, and you were glad to be back at home. To your surprise, instead of silence, you were greeted by the sound of a piano. It sounded like it was being played live. You didn’t even know there was a piano in Wayne Tower. The sound took you into a room you had never been in before. There were several rooms you had never gone in before.

The master bedroom had been untouched since Martha and Thomas’ passing. Martha had a room dedicated to her hobbies. Sewing, knitting, and crocheting, while Thomas had an office he used.

And while you were never explicitly told not to go into them, you’ve never seen anyone go into those rooms, so you took that as a silent rule that they were off-limits. You didn’t mind though, you sympathized with Bruce’s grief. They weren’t just rooms, they were memorials. The sound of the piano led you to one of these rooms, in a desolate hallway away from the room you shared with Bruce. The door was ajar, and you couldn’t help your curiosity. You peeked.

The room was a study, with bookcases lining the walls, going right up to the high ceilings. There was a rich mahogany desk, a small sitting area around a fireplace.

And a grand piano. With your boyfriend sitting on the piano bench, playing almost… passionately.

The song was familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

His long fingers move effortlessly across the keys as if he’s played this song a hundred times before.

You open the door more and enter the room, but Bruce is so focused on playing, he doesn’t even notice you.

Usually, he is astute, and you’ve never gotten the drop on Bruce before.

The floors creak beneath you, yet he still doesn’t notice.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been tempting to try and scare Bruce. You knew you’d be able to do it. You were now standing right behind him, and he didn’t notice. But there was something about how he moved and how his fingers glided across the keys. The way he was completely absorbed in playing the emotional song. As the sound of the rich piano filled the air, you realized something.

Your nerd ass boyfriend was playing a piano rendition of Helena by My Chemical Romance. A smile played on your lips. God. You were so in love with him.

It was clear this song meant something to him. You knew that music was deeply personal for Bruce, and this seemed to be no different.

Finally, the song reaches its beautiful end. Bruce’s fingers trail away from the keys, and his head turns slightly towards you, he lets out a breath. You can’t tell if he’s startled by your presence or not.

“Hey,” he greets quietly.

“Hi,” you greeted, approaching his side. He looks back at the piano. You put your hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know you could play.”

He chuckles and nods slowly, “I play. I play when I’m stressed.” His fingers tap on the top of the piano idly, thumbing a few keys. “You can sit… if you’d like?” He gestures to the empty spot on the piano bench.

Bruce was a fairly large man, but you had no problems invading his personal space. You slid into the spot next to him. Leg against leg, shoulder against shoulder.

“You’re stressed?” You asked, and then internally cringed. You couldn’t believe that just left your mouth. Of course, he’s stressed.

“I am,” he sighs, letting out a breath of frustration. “Someone keeps leaving bombs around Gotham.” He rubs his thumb over the piano key.

Bruce stares at the floor, and then turns to look over at you, his mouth turning up into a small smile, “It’s nice to have you here, though.”

You take one of his hands, and you lace your fingers with his. You brought the back of his hand up to your lips, and you gave his hand a soft kiss.

“I’ll always be here for you,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes. Bruce’s pale face had a bit of color in his cheeks now.

A simple kiss to his hand was enough to leave Veangence himself flustered. You’d never say this to his face, but Bruce was so cute.

“How long have you played the piano?” You asked.

“A while." He tore his eyes from yours, and he looked back at the grand piano the two of you were sitting at. “My mom used to teach me when I was young.” As he speaks, he plays some idle notes on the black and white keys, nothing coherent, just simple notes. "It's helpful for when I'm working through something, you know?"

“Yeah,” you said. Everyone needed a way to work through their emotions. You thought that Bruce’s way was dressing up as a bat and beating up criminals, but it seemed like there were still layers of Bruce to uncover. Perhaps the piano was a way for him to feel close to his mother. Or maybe it was just something to do. "She must have been talented," you commented, unsure of what else to say.

Bruce nodded, “Very.” His voice is soft, but his tone reflects his affection for his parents. He took a breath as he let his fingers rest on the piano again, “You play anything?”

“No.” You responded. “Well. I played cello for a few years in high school but— I wasn’t really good at it,” you chuckled. “Plus they’re an expensive instrument.”

Bruce gave you a smile. “The cello is an interesting choice,” he commented. “What do you like about it?” He was genuinely curious about what his girlfriend was interested in, even if it was just an offhand comment.

“I was enthralled by the deep and melancholic sound of it,” you told him, reaching out and pressing a white key on the piano. It was silent for a few moments, and you remembered an experience as a child. Your father had won tickets to the orchestra, and your mother wasn’t able to take off, so your dad took you. You could remember dressing up in a pretty dress, your father trying his best at styling your hair. You could remember the beautiful music and the pretty musicians. You could remember being in awe of it all.

“Also when I was a kid, my family went to the Gotham Orchestra and the cello player was really cute,” you said as fragments of the memory played in your head. “Had a bit of a schoolgirl crush.”

Bruce laid his head on your shoulder. “You have a thing for musicians?”

“Apparently,” you responded, a smile on your lips.

Bruce chuckled. “That’s good to know.”

Another several moments pass, and Bruce turns to you. Your eyes go from the smooth black-and-white keys of the piano to Bruce’s stunning blue eyes.

“I love you,” he blurted out. He looked surprised that he even said it. You laughed.

“I love you too,” you said, leaning in to press a tender kiss against his lips. Bruce turned his body more towards you, he put his hand against the case of the piano.

Bruce’s lips linger against yours, even after the two of you parted.

The taste of your lips, your smell, every part of you seems to have an effect on him. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s falling down a rabbit hole of feelings and emotions and he can't stop himself. He wants to tell you he loves you again and again.

And so he does.

“I love you,” he said again.

You delicately touch his jaw, gently holding it in your hand, as if he were made of glass.

“I love you more,” you said, a giddy feeling rising up in your chest as if you were a young girl with your first crush.

Bruce smiled at you, an almost boyish smile. “Oh yeah?” He responded, a teasing look in his eyes, which flicked down to look at your lips, then back up to your eyes. “I’m not so sure about that,” He trails off, taking deep breaths as he struggles to focus, his blue eyes watching your lips, wanting them again.

His intensity caused your heartbeat to quicken, hammering hard against your chest. Even after living with him, he still made you nervous in the best way.

“I am,” you respond.

Bruce leaned down, bringing his lips down to yours, firm and eager. His mouth moved onto her like a man in a desert, greedy for any type of moisture, and he wants to devour her.

The world around him faded into nothing, and all he can focus on is you. Your taste on his lips, and the way you sound with his hands on you, the two of them lost in the other. He held you close and only wants to get closer. He only wants to be here in this moment, with you.

His kiss invoked a feeling inside of you, so passionate that it made you want to burst. He tilts your head back, his large hand on your jaw, the tips of his fingers in your hair. Your lips part for him, his tongue slipping into your mouth, stealing away your breath. You’re completely lost in the moment, lost in the way he touched you, the way he kissed you. The way the ends of his hair tickled your face as he kissed you.

You bumped into the keyboard, your arm pressing down on a few keys, pulling you out of the moment, out of the kiss. You broke the kiss off to look at the piano, but Bruce guides your head back to him, back to his lips.

Bruce just can’t get enough of you. His lips move from your lips to your cheek, then your jaw. He leaves a trail of kisses to your neck. Bruce whispers your name with reverence.

“Bruce,” you said, your voice an octave higher than normal. “I—I want to hear another song,” you whispered to him. You wanted to know everything about Bruce. You wanted to know more about this room you’ve never been in; you wanted to know more about his skill in playing piano. Bruce’s kisses pause for a moment before he stands up.

“I’ll play you a song later,” he murmured, effortlessly lifting you up into his arms. “I want you,” he said. You were glad that he was holding you because you were feeling weak in the knees.

“Promise?” You smiled.

“What? About the song?” Bruce asked as he carried you off to your shared bedroom. “Yeah, I promise,” he took in a deep breath of your scent.

Bruce sat on the bed and held you in his lap. You thanked god for those sweatpants that he just loved wearing. You could feel every inch of his hardness against your thigh.

“I haven’t even showered yet,” you warned him, leaning into him.

“I don’t care,” Bruce responded, his voice huskier than normal. His hands trailed down to hold your hips.

You take his bottom lip between your teeth, giving it a playful nip before pulling back.

Bruce looks completely enthralled by you.

He is.

Bruce maneuvers you into a lying down position on the bed. “Close your eyes,” he told you.

You raised an eyebrow but did as he said, closing your eyes.

It was quiet for several agonizing moments, before you felt Bruce’s hands on your body, gently removing your clothes. You moved around, helping him in removing your clothes. You wanted to open your eyes, to see him, with his kiss-swollen lips and his eyes dark with lust, but you resisted.

Bruce removed everything but your underwear.

“Can I—” you began.

“No,” Bruce responded, his hands on your legs, moving them around and spreading them apart, so he could slide between them. You felt the weight of him settle between your legs, his hands on either side of your shoulders. He dipped down and started a trail of kisses from your neck, down to your collarbone. His tongue darted out to lick around your collarbone. He took a moment to suck at the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving a hickey. You laughed, your hands going into his hair.

“I’ll pay you back tenfold,” you warned him. You could feel him smile against your skin.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he rasped out.

Bruce continued his worship of your body, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue twirling around the bud while his other hand plucked at your other breast. His hips lightly ground into yours, seeking out some sort of reprieve from the aching between his legs. Your hands go into his hair, tangling your fingers in his messy dark locks. You let out a soft sigh as his mouth began to pay attention to your other nipple. Your body felt several degrees hotter, and it only increased as Bruce began to kiss down further. Down your abdomen, and finally, his face was level with your cunt. He guided your legs to rest on his bare shoulders.

“All this for me?” He asked, using his index finger to rub the wet spot in your underwear. Your breath hitched, and your pussy clenched. Heat coiled in your abdomen at what was to come.

“All yours,” you said, finally opening your eyes.

Bruce kissed your thigh and then kissed your clothed pussy. He happily pressed his nose against the wet spot, breathing your scent in. Bruce always thought that the smell of your needy cunt was the best scent he had ever experienced. Helooked almost pensive for a moment, before easily ripping your underwear.

“Bruce!” You gasped.

“I’ll buy you more,” he whispered, sliding a finger into your aching folds. “I’ll buy you anything you want,” he said with a happy sigh. He tossed aside the torn underwear.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you breathed out, tugging on his hair.

“You’re complaining?” He rubbed at your clit with his thumb.

“No,” you responded, tugging more on his hair. “It was hot.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” he murmured.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest. “That’s not an invitation to— oh fuck.”

His tongue began to lap at your folds, effectively ending your train of thought. Bruce knew how to play your body like it was an instrument. After nearly two years, Bruce had figured out where to lick, where to rub or pinch to make you squirm and moan. An upside to dating a detective, you suppose.

His fingers parted your lips, and you could feel his index finger twitching inside of you. He slid another digit in. You bit down a moan. Bruce pulled back. “Alfred isn’t home,” he purred. He kissed your thigh again. “Be loud,” he nearly begged. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Gotta earn it, big boy,” you breathed.

You heard him chuckle against your thigh, before diving back in, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

It was a challenge, and oh did Bruce love a good challenge.

Bruce slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace. You felt fuzzy as he angled his fingers just right to hit the spot inside of you that made you sing. You felt like a string, being pulled so tight, you were about to snap.

“Bruce,” you groaned. “Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.” You chanted. Bruce ate pussy like it was the last time he’d ever be able to taste you. Desperate to savor you. And it was very possible that it could be. Bruce had his eyes closed, as if he was experiencing euphoria just from your taste, your moans. Your body twitched and jerked, and Bruce used his strong arm to hold down your hips as he sucked on your clit. He moaned against your sensitive folds. You rolled your hips, eager to find your release.

Finally, you found release, your back arching off of the bed as shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you. You sobbed out his name, your body arching off of the bed as you felt your orgasm hit you. Bruce continued teasing your clit as you rode the shockwaves of pleasure.

And you finally relaxed, the tension leaving your body, something that Bruce noticed.

“You must have really needed that,” he mused, removing his fingers and crawling up your body to kiss you, his lips still wet with your slick.

Your breaths were ragged, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He looked like the cat that caught the canary.

“You look impressed with yourself,” you breathed out.

“I am,” he said, adjusting himself so he could easily remove his pants. “I should have timed that. Couldn’t have been longer than three minutes.” He sounded so pleased with himself, it caused a laugh to bubble up from your chest.

“Thank you,” you said, watching his cock spring out of his pants. The tip was an angry red, wet with precum.

“For?”

“The orgasm. I really did need it.”

“I plan on giving you another. I still haven’t heard you screaming my name.”

You sat up, and reached down, taking his length into your hand. He let out a shaky breath.

“All this for me?” You asked, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips. You spread the precum around the tip using your thumb, not taking your eyes off his face.

“All yours,” Bruce responded, reaching over to the bedside table, and grabbing a condom. “I need to be inside of you, right now,” Bruce said, moving your hands. He ripped into the aluminum foil of the condom and slid it onto his length. You opened your legs wider for him.

“Then what are you waiting for?” You asked, your hands on his shoulders as he leaned over you.

Bruce growled, leaning down to kiss you as he slowly entered you. He let out a series of little gasps and growls as he bottomed out. “So wet,” he breathed out. “So wet, all for me,” he said right in your ear, his warm breath fanning over your ear and neck. His hair fell in his face. “I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he admitted as he began to move.

“That’s okay,” you whined. “I just wanna watch you come,” you said, brushing his hair out of his face.

It was almost too much for Bruce. The way your slick, velvety walls fluttered around him with each thrust was already sending Bruce to the edge, but he was holding back. He wanted to enjoy this, and not blow his load immediately.

You could swear that Bruce was made for you. He slotted so perfectly between his legs. His cock was the perfect size

Your chest was pressing up against his. Bruce’s lips just barely brushed against yours with each movement of his hips. Your hands found their way back to his hair, tangling your fingers in his dark hair, holding him close to you. The wet noises echoed through the room, only barely drowned out by Bruce’s soft whimpers. You could feel his heart through his chest, beating wildly, only for you. He dips down, licking a stripe down your chest, he enjoyed the salty taste of your sweat. His movement was languid, each snap of his hips was made with purpose.

“Bruce,” you whined, lifting up your hips. “Faster,” you begged. Bruce leaned down and quieted you with a kiss. He didn’t listen to you, still lazily fucking you. He propped himself above you, his chest brushing against yours, while his free hand reached down to rub at your swollen nub. You watched as Bruce’s eyes slipped close in pleasure. You were charmed as you watched him. His lips slightly parted, breathing in your air. Each movement of his hips pulled a noise out of Bruce. He growled your name, causing you to clench around him. You noticed that Bruce’s thrusts were getting sloppier.

“Please—” he begged. “I need you to come again,” he choked out. "Need to feel you— fuck.”

“I’m close,” you panted out. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t stop. He kept up his sloppy but steady pace his heart hammering in his chest.

“Bruce!” You keened as your toes curled and your back arched into him. Your body was tingling as your orgasm swept through you. Bruce let out a whine, and he soon followed. His body jerked, and you could feel him twitching inside of you as he came. He laid his head on your shoulder as he caught his breath.

“I love you,” he whispered breathily.

“I love you more,” you said with a grin. He smiled in response. Bruce took in a breath as he pulled out of you, and disposed of the condom in the nearby bin.

“I’ll let you win this one. You know. Because I love you,” he said as he laid back down, pulling your sweaty bodies together.

You let out a thoughtful hum as you relaxed into him.

“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Bruce asked his lips against your cheek.

“Spending time with my boyfriend, hopefully.”

“What a coincidence,” Bruce murmured. “Because I was hoping to spend more time with my girlfriend.”

Even with the blackout curtains, you could still see his bright eyes. You felt bubbly in your chest, and you smiled brightly at him.

Bruce’s breath hitched as he gazed at your bright smile.

This, he decided, was certainly worth living for.

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #dc x reader #reader insert #female reader smut #Bruce Wayne smut #battinson x reader #peach's writing

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years

Text

Patience (11)

Summary: Gabe says another word that leaves Bruce speechless. And then Bruce is finally taking you on...a... "date" 😏

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Rating: E

Warnings: domestic fluff, Bruce attempts to cook, smut (unprotected sex)

A/N: back after another break. This chapter is sponsored by Covid. 0/10 would recommend.

Patience Masterlist

You did not see much of Bruce until the next afternoon.

He took Gabe out for a “walk” that lasted four hours while you worked on a new work project. You found Bruce, Alfred and Gabe later sitting on the living room floor while Alfred watched Bruce and Gabe do one of the animal puzzles you had bought a couple weeks ago.

Gabe was obsessed with animals. His second word had been kitty and you had been lowkey worried Bruce would run off and buy one for him when he told you about it.

He hadn’t. At least not yet.

While Bruce seemed closed off and… sometimes even rude to the outside, you knew it was all just a mask.

Much like the mask he put on every night to fight for his city.

He looked up at you and gave you a small smile. You walked over to them, sitting down next to Bruce who put his arm around you and kissed your temple.

You caught Alfred’s eyes, your cheeks warming up at being caught to which he only smiled.

“We are leaving in an hour,” Bruce whispered against your ear. You watched Gabe use Alfred’s hands to pull him up on his feet and take a couple of steps.

“Where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise,” Bruce mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“So what should I wear?” you turned your head to look at him and the look he gave you made you shiver. He leaned in, his breath brushing over your ear.

“Something I can strip you out of quickly,” he whispered and you closed your eyes, as he kissed you behind your ear. You shook your head, taking a deep breath before you opened your eyes and found Alfred smirking at you both.

You rolled your eyes before you opened your arms for Gabe to walk to you.

Instead he chose to walk over to Bruce, climbing into his lab on his shaky little legs with a giggle.

You pouted with a sigh as Bruce put his hand on Gabe’s back before he began to tickle him, earning a screeching laughter from your little boy.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaa DADA!” Gabe giggled and you grinned as Bruce went still.

“What did he just….” Alfred whispered.

“Dada!” Gabe grabbed some of Bruce's hair and pulled a little at it, while Bruce looked at Gabe and then at you, his expression something between shock and awe.

“He’s been saying it for a couple days. I was waiting for you to catch it,” you smiled and Bruce closed his eyes. You nodded at Alfred who got up to give you some privacy, leaving you, Gabe and Bruce alone. You put your arm around Gabe, who’s little hand was now on Bruce nose, making Bruce open his eyes.

“Bruce you are the closest thing to a father he has. You take care of him. You love him…”

“I do. I never thought…. Children were not something that I saw in my future. But having Gabe and you here… it feels right. I want this. All of this.”

“Well then, Dad…” you teased and for a moment you thought you saw his eyes watering. You leaned in, first kissing Gabe’s cheek before you brushed your lips over Bruce’s “spend some time with… with your son while I get dressed,” you smiled. Bruce released you, helping you up but not without kissing the back of your hand before you left the room.

There was a knock on your door a little later and you flattened the fabric of the dress you had put on before you opened the door.

Bruce was standing behind it, wearing black slacks and a white shirt.

“You look… beautiful,” he gave you a smile.

“Thank you,” you smiled, feeling shy all of the sudden.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

You stopped at Gabe’s room on your way out, finding Alfred reading him a bedtime story.

“I love you baby,” you whispered, giving him a kiss on his forehead.

“You will call if something happens? Or if something is wrong? Or if…” you looked at Alfred who nodded.

“I will call you when I think I need to. Don’t forget I have some experience…” he nodded towards Bruce and you smiled.

“Of course. It’s just… It’s… weird.”

“I know. But he’ll be perfectly safe.”

You sighed, before you nodded. Bruce took your hand.

“See you tomorrow,” Bruce said and Alfred winked.

“Good night,” he wished as you and Bruce walked out.

You drove for almost two hours until Bruce parked the car near a lake in the woods. The sun was just setting down. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen another house on your way here.

You were truly alone here.

You and Bruce.

Even your cell phone did not have any reception. You had panicked for a moment, until Bruce had told you that Alfred had the number of the landline where you would be staying.

And now you could see where you would be staying exactly.

It was a lake house, far away from any civilization. It was completely out of glass, giving you a full panorama of the breathtaking view of the lake and the woods.

“Ready?” Bruce asked and you turned your head to look at him as he held his hand out for you to take. You walked over to him, crossing your arms behind his neck as you got on your tiptoes to kiss him. He hummed against your lips, and you felt his hands on your back as he pulled you closer.

His lips lingered, deepening the kiss until you almost felt dizzy. He held you against him, not parting from your lips as he began to walk you towards the door.

“I… I wanted to cook for you but…” he mumbled and you frowned, looking up at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You can… cook? Like really cook?” you asked, trying not to sound too judgemental. He chuckled.

“I can read how to make Mac & Cheese,” he said and your heart swelled before you kissed him again.

“You’re cute,” you said and he shook his head, finally getting the door open. He let you walk through it, the lights getting on automatically the farther you walked inside. The door clicked close behind you and you turned around to find Bruce looking at you.

“So…. dinner?” you asked with a teasing smile.

He shook his head slowly before he walked towards you.

“Dinner can wait. I need to have you. Now.”

“Bruce…” you gasped, your eyes flying open. Slowly you became aware of your surroundings, the soft mattress you were laying on, the sky outside showing that it must be very early morning. Lips on your naked shoulder, a warm body behind you. A hand on your lower stomach, another hand on your left breast.

You didn’t know when you had fallen asleep last night… or this early morning.

The both of you had made most of the hours you got to spend alone, exploring each other’s bodies until you both had your fill, dinner long forgotten when you finally fell asleep.

“Good morning…” he whispered against your ear as he slowly fucked into you from behind.

“Mmmmmorning…” you hummed, wiggling against him, making him groan as he slipped deeper inside of you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked and you smiled sleepily before you nodded.

“Good,” he hummed, kissing up your neck while he continued to slowly move inside of you.

“Are you hungry?” he asked and you chuckled, turning your head so you could look at him. His hair standing up in all directions, his eyes soft as he looked at you.

“Not yet,” you smiled before you kissed him.

“Good,” he mumbled against your lips, before he turned you around so you were lying beneath him.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

You were sitting on the kitchen counter wearing Bruce shirt a while later, while he read out the descriptions for the Mac & Cheese he brought. You still couldn’t believe that he really went to a store to buy this just so he could cook it for you. Or… try to cook it.

He was standing at the stove, his boxer shorts resting just beneath his hip bones while you ate dry cornflakes, your legs crossed as you made no intention of helping him.

He wouldn’t let you.

“Bruce?” you asked and he looked over his shoulder.

“Did you ever cook anything in your life?”

“.... No?”

“I could teach you if you want to.”

“I want to do this for you,” he mumbled, looking away again and you smiled softly. You jumped off the counter, hugging him from behind.

He tensed for a moment before he relaxed against you.

“I… I love you Bruce,” you said quietly, kissing his back. You felt him stop, before he turned in your arms, one of his hands tilting your chin up so he could look at you.

“Say that again?” he whispered and you smiled.

“I love you Bruce Wayne.”

He kissed you then, smiling against your lips.

“I love you too.”

Taglist:

#my fic #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x fem!reader #battinson x female reader #robert pattinson #battinson #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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