writeoffside

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part six

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem! reader - 6/?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

summary: Continuation of Documents and Destinies — Ciphers, early mornings, meetings and new assistant. Bruce's days are turning upside down and everything is going another direction that he had planned. His assistant is here to save the day, though.

warnings: none

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: yes yes yes i know i'm taking my absolute best time publishing all chapters... i may have or may have not been writing another fanfic for another fandom, which is doing far pretty good! but ofc battinson is here, i love him <3 hope ur gonna like this

Bruce finally descends the steps down. Coming down, where Alfred is sitting at a table nearby. As he goes down, he is still shirtless. Fresh from the shower. He tugs his shirt on as he nears the man.

As he neared Alfred, he noticed the paper he had in front of him. He immediately recognized the picture on top of it. It was the cipher, which he had printed yesterday. Bruce eyed the page, coming from behind Alfred. He noticed that he had already wrote in new letters, filling in the empty gaps with newly discovered symbols and letters he hadn't seen or noticed before.

“Some fresh berries there…” Alfred said without looking up, motioning to the little old-fashioned bowl next to him, full of berries. Blueberries and raspberries peeking out

As he steps closer, Bruce squints as the sun hits his eyes. He looks up at the sun and shakes his head, pulling out a pair of black dark sunglasses onto his face.

"What are you doing?" he mutters, picking up the small bowl of berries. Popping a few into his mouth.

Alfred takes a deep breath, "just reminiscing about my days in the Circus. This is actually quite... elusive."

His finger grip the edges of the paper as he lifts it off the table, in front of him. Staring down at the decripthed parts, which newly added letters.

Bruce furrows his brows as he notices the additional letters, "where did you get those o's?"

Bruce then leans closer to the man and the paper in front of him. Pointing at the paper, where the letters are penciled in with a bright white colour.

Alfred kisses his teeth and leans back, his pen now pointing down at the other page he also has. It was a frozen screen-shot of Bruce's eyelenses, from where he stared down at the letter sent to him. Where the riddle laid and so did the answer. He lies still.

"He lies still is only a partial key. It only gives us H, E, L, I, S and T... So I'm looking for any double symbols to start, trying letters, see where it leads..." Alfred then points his pen at the letters he added onto the other page, in his hands.

"That's interesting," the younger man says, staring down at the page through his black sunglasses.

The sound of a heels clicking pulls both of them from the staring at the cipher.

They both turn towards the sound in an unison. An older woman, Dory, stood at the doorway.

"Mr. Pennyworth," she said.

"Yes, Dory?" he politely answered the woman.

"The accountants are here," she replied again, her voice firm and calm.

“See them in, please, Dory,” he said with a short nod. He started folding the cipher page neatly before tucking it under other papers. Alfred glanced down at the cipher and the frozen image from Bruce’s lenses for a brief moment and then turned back.

Dory nodded politely and her heels echoed again as she walked off, leaving the two men in the enormous towering room in a deep silence once more.

Alfred then stood up, taking the other papers with him. Bruce plopped few more berries into his mouth.

"Also, Bruce... Your assistant is there as well. I called her this morning," Alfred turned to the younger man, whose eyes widened beneath the dark glasses. You both had called together last night, he had asked you if you had made up your mind about the position, and true to Angus' words, you said yes. Alfred then asked you, the most polite way, if you could come to work the next early morning, as some accountants are coming in for a meeting. He very obviously knew Bruce wouldn't have the documents which were much needed for the meeting itself to go smooth. Or even to have the meeting happen.

"Alfred."

Alfred did not say anything back and just walked towards the doorway, where the older woman stood a few moments before. Bruce shakes his head and mutters something under his nose.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder, "also, you could’ve dressed formally.”

Bruce looked down at himself, at how he was dressed. He had a black shirt, loose black pants. Very comfortable to him.

“It’s my house,” he said simply, shaking his head. Moving just behind the older man. Alfred sighed at his words.

They turned through the doorway, into the room, where muted conversation and the quiet rustling of paper was heard through the slightly opened doors, from where the light was peeking through.

Alfred entered first, Bruce just behind him. There were two men, accountants, who were seated. One was an older man with brown, but greying hair, staring at the other man seated next to him. The other one was also an older man, a bald one with what looked like reading glasses perched on top of his nose. He had the urge to snap at the the men, as they sat. It wasn't like he allowed the two men to sit on his chairs. In his home. Then Bruce’s gaze moved past them.

He saw you.

And his breath hitched.

You stood with perfect posture. Standing next to the older woman, Dory. Speaking with her with a soft smile. Sleek black tights were tight around your legs, a very short skirt and a brown sweater-jacket that clung softly to your shape. Your heels were sharp and dark. You looked different from before.

Bruce didn't even give a spare glance to the men who were sitting and moved from behind Alfred. Straight towards you. The two men noticed Bruce and abruptly stood up. Both of them quickly straightening their suits. Ready to shake the man's hand. But he moved straight towards you, as if he had tunnel vision pointed straight at you.

"Mr. Wayne—"

Both of the men started to greet him. Scrambling to their feet from the chairs they were so comfortably sitting on at. Bruce then walked right past them, his glasses-hidden eyes pointed on you, as you were speaking with Dory. Then you turned just as he neared closer.

You tilted your head, a small greeting smile on your lips, "good morning, Mr. Wayne.”

He stopped right in front of you, his sunglasses reflected your image. His jaw worked once, and then again. Like he was about to say something, and then changed his mind.

"Morning."

His voice rumbled deep from his chest. Dory chuckled and turned away, leaving you and Bruce alone. The two accountants hovered behind Bruce, standing by the table, still with their hands outstretched. Confusion and awkwardness painting itself onto their faces. Both of them waiting for acknowledgment, now glancing at each other in confused silence.

Alfred came closer to the accountants. Outstretching his own hand to them, introducing himself to the two confused older men.

"First day duties?" Bruce asked you, voice low.

You smiled up at the man, "of course. Thank you so much for—"

"Don't thank me. You deserve it," Bruce cut you off.

Then you did something. You reached out and touched his arm. Just a gentle, guiding hand on just upper his elbow, your fingertips brushing the fabric of his shirt.

Your touch sent a spark through the skin beneath his clothes. His mind went completely empty, blank. Muscles tight beneath his shirt, he was all but frozen, caught off guard. It felt as if a wildfire started in deep of his chest.

With the same confidence as before, you turned gently, your fingers on his upper elbow, guiding him towards the two accountants. Then your fingers slipped away and he felt as if the entire world disappeared. He followed you without a word and with no doubt in his mind.

As you and Bruce reached the table, the two accountants quickly straightened again, clearing their throats awkwardly. Both of them reaching their hands forward towards the man in black.

“Mr. Wayne, it’s an absolute honor. We’ve recieved your response to the files that we've sent over and—” the bald man started enthusiastically speaking. His hand then clasped around Bruce's and in a firm grip, he shook it so quickly. His arm still felt tingly, from where you've touched him.

The bald man let go of Bruce's hand and then the other man reached for it. Shaking it with the same enthusiasm as the other one did, his finger digging into his hand. The man was treating him like he had met a king, a some kind of hero. Bruce felt an urge to roll his eyes at him. The man then launched himself into talking about a summary of the files, which, Bruce did not even read. Nor did he even see them. So, he just nodded along. Alfred was the one, who sent the response back. Who replied to them and who had hosted this meeting under Bruce's name. The bald man spoke about a sort of a long-term project, which Alfred quickly took a lead in and spoke instead of Bruce. Thankfully.

You all sat at the table, The two accountants on the right side of the table, while Alfred sat right opposite them. Bruce sat beside him and you were sat about two seats down from Bruce, keeping your distance, but listening every word.

Bruce was sat in the chair very comfortably, leaned back slightly, one arm rested along the edge of the table, the other on his knee. His sunglasses remained on, staring at the two men in front of him. But his attention was just partially on their speaking, his eyes glided few times towards you beneath the dark glasses.

"—some of it is routed through different layers and companies. Many were sent in under names we’ve never seen before. This has been going on for years," the bald man slid a file over to Alfred. Bruce wasn't listening, the words just flew over his head.

The accountants resumed their report again. They were growing more confident now that the focus had shifted to the two of them.

"—we have gone through the newer updates, which were recently added. There are few gaps in them, which indicates that they weren't—" the brown-greying man chimed into the conversation.

But even as the room moved on, Bruce’s thoughts didn’t. He could still feel where your fingers had touched his arm. Just a slight short touch.

The accountants had asked few more questions. Alfred had offered them answers and slid them over pages, documents and other informations printed on the white sheets.

"We’ll finalize the report and send a full breakdown by the end of the week,” the bald man said.

“And just... Just use a secure line,” Bruce said, already rising from his seat, which made both of the accountants quickly stand up as well.

“Yes, of course,” the bald nodded many times and quickly, "thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne.”

The men gathered their things and once again reached Bruce to shake his hand. He uninterestingly shook their hands, then they shook hands with Alfred. Both of the men did not even flicker their gaze over to you, not even interested in shaking a hand with you. Then both of the men exited the room, offering polite nods to Dory, who opened the door for them.

"You handled them well, Alfred," muttured Bruce as he watched the doors click close behind the two men.

“Well, you do not like meetings.”

Bruce's expression barely moved, but something flickered on his face. He sighed loudly, "I don’t like wasting time,” he said.

"Well, Mr. Wayne,” you said, tone even, teasing but not unprofessional, "so, what do you say? Am I a good assistant?"

Before Bruce could open his mouth and answer, a voice from behind him spoke, cutting him off.

"You were brilliant," Alfred spoke with the softest voice, "if you didn't get the files for me. I'd be lost there."

Bruce’s gaze flickered to Alfred, then back to you. A beat of silence passed before he spoke, "you did all of them?”

You nodded once, "yes. Last night. I pulled the latest archives we had. Half of their documents were out of date, actually. As well misfiled.”

"You are brilliant," Alfred repeated once again. A big smile adoring his older features.

Bruce stopped. He narrowed his eyes at you and then at Alfred, and then he spoke what nobody expected, "what if she worked out the cipher?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Alfred choked. Actually choked. Nearly falling over.

He coughed into his sleeve, eyebrows shooting upward as he turned to fully face Bruce, "What? What are you talking about? The cipher? The one—"

"Yes, Alfred."

“I said she was brilliant, yes, and she is,” Alfred shook his head, "but that doesn’t mean you hand her the murderer's bloody cipher like it’s a Crossword from the Gazette!”

You looked between the two men, eyes wide and confusion all over your face, "what are we talking about?”

"—she wouldn't say a thing," Bruce chirped in, his voice steady.

"How are you so sure?" Alfred narrowed his eyes and raised his voice a bit.

Your brows furrowed, still confused, "I really don’t know what’s going on..."

Alfred muttered under his breath, still baffled, “Bruce. Stop this nonsense…”

Bruce turned fully now, sunglasses catching the ceiling light. He raised his hand and his finger pointed straight you, "you are going to follow me. Now.”

You glanced at Alfred, whose lips were parted as if he still wanted to protest or say something against this whole situation. Then you looked back at Bruce, whose expression was unreadable underneath the glasses.

"Alright..." you muttured, your heels clicking as you moved towards Bruce, who was stalking through the opened doors.

You and Bruce walked to the room, where both the men were before. Where the printed papers laid on the table. Alfred was just behind you, as well stalking to the room, where the papers were.

Bruce took out the papers and put them in front of you. One where the cioher was and one where the answer to the riddle was. It was bright red, and there was scrawny writing on the paper.

“I trust you.” He finally looked at you, "and I need your eyes. You are clever."

You heard Alfred mutter something under his nose, but you stepped closer to the table, where the papers were laid out. You reached for it, your fingers brushing against the edge of the paper. Your eyes squinting down at the cipher.

"We have H, E, L, S and T. And this is the cipher," he pointed at the paper with his finger.

"Remove all other symbols,” you said certainly, your finger tracking the many symbols on the paper in front fo you.

Alfred made a small scoffing sound behind you, "what?”

You didn’t even look back at the man who spoke, "yeah. Just remove them. The ones we already have, H, E, L, S, T, they’re forming a word. The rest are just a noise around it. The message is in a plain sight.”

Alfred took a step forward, “but if we remove the rest—”

“We’ll see it,” you cut in, not letting the man speak his words, because you knew you were in fact right, "the answer is already here. He just wants you to be distracted by the rest of it, you know?"

Bruce's gaze was sharp on the paper in front of him.

"Wait here,” he said suddenly and then he turned on his heels and strode out of the room, leaving you with confused Alfred.

Alfred gave you one last, wide-eyed look and followed, hurrying after him with short, but pretty quick steps, leaning against his cane.

You stood in the middle of the room beside the table, where the cipher half-written with random letters laid. The known symbols spelling something that you couldn't figure out amongst all the other symbols. You looked down again. Furrowing your brows as you looked over it again.

You didn’t sit. You felt odd in this room, you didn't feel like sitting. You just waited, standing there, you looked around as well. There was an electric guitar on the floor near a huge speaker, that amused you. A bowl of berries was there as well. And a huge chandelier hanging above. The dining room itself was huge, the ceiling high above you. The decoration was aesthetically appealing to the whole tower.

Then, after you don't even know how long; you heard both of them walking back. Their footsteps echoing louder and louder until they reappeared in the doorway behind you.

And before you could even say a word to them, Alfred came straight to you. Or at you.

He grabbed you, his arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders, lifting you a little off balance, his voice breathless as he suddenly loudly exclaimed.

“You are... Bloody hell, you are fucking brilliant!” his arms wrapped around you so tightly.

You froze for second. Absolutely stunned. Alfred Pennyworth, the man who was so polite and professional, when you first met him when you had your meeting, was now hugging you and as well unprofessionally cussing.

Your arms came slowly up. You hugged him back awkwardly, patting his back. An awkward, a bit confused smile on your face. Unsure what to do in the moment.

"Um... Thank you?" you didn't sound so sure what to say.

"Alfred," Bruce's deep voice came from behind the two of you. Low and amused sounding.

Alfred finally let go of you, glancing back at Bruce. Alfred awkwardly coughed into his arm and turned away from you, pink colour rising to his ears quickly. There was a faint grin tugging at the edge of Bruce’s lips. He was amused of this whole situation. Then what took you by a surprise was the chuckle he let out.

Bruce Wayne actually chuckled.

"What does it say?" you asked the two men. They exchanged a glance, unsure if to tell you.

"Drive," Bruce muttured.

"Oh..." you trailed off, confused on what it means, "also what is... this? Why did you need to solve this cipher?"

Bruce stopped. His heart nearly skipped a bit. Alfred next to him casted him a glance. His eyes widened a bit more than before. Bruce turned his head to the direction of Alfred, facing him, his jaw shifting slightly. He then swallowed and turned his head towards you.

“A killer left this,” he finally said, those words made you drop your mouth, "at a crime scene yesterday.”

You blinked, realized what he meant, "at the mayor's place?”

He nodded once, his eyes not moving from you. You shook your head, mouth dropped slightly. Taking it all in. But something hung in your mind and you just had to ask the man.

"Why do you have that, though?"

At those words, nearly everything stilled. Quieten down. Everything froze, everyone froze.

Alfred turned slowly towards the younger man with his eyes wide. He didn’t speak, didn't utter a word. He stared at the younger man, as if he waited for an answer as well. Bruce didn’t flinch at your question. He didn't look away, didn't advert his gaze. His face was unreadable underneath the pair of glasses. But his silence was loud. You furrowed your brows at the two men, confusion rising even higher now. The older man then sighed, realizing that if he didn't intervene, the younger man wouldn't do as well. The younger man knew he wouldn't get the words out himself.

“She should know,” Alfred said under his breath, his eyes digging into the younger man's profile, "she already saw this," he pointed to the papers on the table.

"But—"

"And she is your assistant after all, Bruce," Alfred added, his eyes keeping themselves on the younger man. A small shift in his jaw as he stared ahead at you through the dark shades. Then, his mouth parted just slightly and then closed, as if he was calculating what he wanted to say. Preparing the right sentence, the right words. Then, his mouth opened and the words left it.

"The card, which the riddle was in, was addressed to me," Bruce finally spoke.

"To you?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Yes. On the card was written who it was for," he replied again, his voice low.

"But... But in the news, they said that it was addressed to the Batman..." you trailed off at the last words, your mind working.

Then as if it clicked in the right place, your eyes widened. You didn't speak, you didn't ask anything else after that. Your eyes flickered from Alfred and then to Bruce. You were nearly at loss of words. You couldn't believe this absolute nonsense that he was telling you. He was not being serious. You didn't know if you should listen and believe or just defeat the sound of his voice and believe that it's all just made up. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel possible. It sounded like a dream, a more of a nightmare.

"Mr. Wayne—" you started but you were cut off by his voice.

"Bruce," he cut you off.

"Bruce. What— Whatare you trying to tell me?" you corrected the name and tried to ask the man with an awkward laugh. You feel like you knew what he was trying to tell you, but you just had to ask. To get the actual words from his mouth. To hear what you were curdently wrapping your mind and thoughts around.

"You do know what I'm trying to tell you," Bruce reached up and slid his dark glasses off, his eyes finally meeting yours. He folded them and gripped them in his hand.

"You're..." you trailed off again, his eyes boring into yours, now glasses-free ones.

"The Batman."

Your breath got caught in your throat. You stood still, staring at the dark-haired man in black in front of you with no expression in your face. You did not know what to show, what to say. You were lost in your own thoughts. You felt overwhelmed. The emotions were flooding in your chest, you felt like you just gained a new emotion. Yo tried to organize it all in your head, but nothing could move into the right position.

"You're joking," you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. You step backwards and look around the room and then back at the man in front of you.

He simply stares back at you. His expression doesn't change.

"You're being serious..." you say after a few moments. The silence pressed tighter around you. Alfred was shaking his head, staring at the younger dark-haired man in black.

You think of what to say next. You have questions flooding your mind like a storm from every corner of your mind. You have hundreds of them. But one specific one escapes your lips.

"So... Are you killing me next because I know?" you said it too quickly, nearly stumbling over your own words.

“What—”

“No! Why would we—”

Both of the men spoke at once. Alfred’s voice sounded out with urgency. As if he was the scared one. Bruce’s voice sounded nearly as confused and nearly disgusted with the idea. They both looked confused. The confusion literally writing itself onto their faces. Both of their expressions in alarms.

"Don't be ridiculous—" Bruce breathed out, but Alfred cut him off.

"Absolutely not. That's not how this works. I am alive, am I not?" Alfred said, his voice a bit raised. As if he wanted you to believe him, to let you trust him on this.

"Okay," there was a beat of a silence.

"It's... Um? A lot of to take in. I really have no idea what to say," you finally admitted, you had questions. Many of them, but you didn't know if you wanted to hear the actual answers.

"I know," Bruce said, slightly nodding his head.

"What do I do now? Now that I know you're... Him?" you did not want to say the name out loud, it didn't felt right at this moment.

"You can help us. You're brilliant, as I've said," Alfred smiled at you, his fingers tapping against the wood on his cane.

"Okay," you replied after a few seconds.

"Okay?" Bruce rasped out.

"Yes. I'll help," you replied and nodded, staring at the dark-haired man. The older man, Alfred, smiled at you, his smile lines visible on his older face near his cheeks.

"I'll have to speak with Gordon. I've got an idea where this leads us next," Bruce spoke and glanced over his shoulder at a clock on the wall behind him. It was definitely a bit older one, dust collecting on top of it.

Then he turns back, staring at Alfred who is about to speak, "I have to speak with Dory about a thing or two that the accountants have mentioned. I'll leave you two."

Then he bid you a goodnight and a smile and waddles to the doorway and disappeared through them. The sounds of his footsteps disappearing as well, going deeper into the never ending house's hallways.

Then a two words broke the silence when the footsteps are no longer heard.

"Go home," the younger dark-haired man said quietly.

"What?" you blinked, raising your eyebrow upwards

"Go home," he repeated.

"I'm going to to Gordon in a few. We'll have a look on something. I have an idea what the cipher mean," his words ringed out in the room. His gaze lingering on your face.

"Alright, but if you—"

"Please," he whispered gently, softly. A small plea.

"Okay."

His gaze dropped for a fraction of a second, then returned to yours. He stepped forward, "stay safe… please.”

Those words slipped through you, down deep into your heart. Stitching themselves with a red string. Your eyes softened and you gave him a small smile.

"Goodbye, Bruce."

You gave him a short nod and walked just around him. The smell of your perfume hitting his nose as your figure just passed by his side. Your heels clicking against the floors, sound echoing through the whole room. He stayed frozen, staring ahead. He watched your shadow disappear with you through the doorway, leaving the same way Alfred did.

He knew where this could lead him, he is falling. Not into a dark hole. Not a cold one. It was is different. It is colourful. It is something soft, warm. Something he had not felt before. The scent of your perfume lingered under his nose, the sound of your voice lingered in his ears, the image of you lingered in his mind. He was slowly driving himself insane. He had a mirder to solve, to find who had so disgustingly and maniacally killed the mayor and he could not turn his mind away from a person he knew for such a small amount of time.

He wasn't really ready to hit the end of the hole he was falling into. He did not know how it would feel, what it would bring. It wasn't a crime fighting, it wasn't solving murders, it wasn't brooding in the dark night dressed as a known crime fighter of Gotham. It was something new to him. Unknown.

He wasn't ready to hit the bottom and become something, or someone, so different than he is now.

The thought terrified him.

thank you sooo much for reading! comments and feedback are always appreciated!

give it some love if u liked it thank u <3

[writeoffside]

Do you write for Tenet's Neil. I'd love to read your Neil fic. Xoxo

ohh, i'd love to write for neil!! i can try to write something, i'll give tenet a rewatch and come up with something!! he's such an underrated character omg

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part five

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem! reader - 5/?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

summary: Continuation of Documents and Destinies — The night took a different turn for Bruce. The mayor got killed, he was called to check out the crime scene. The murderer has left something for him. This night is just a beginning of something much bigger.

warnings: violence, swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: i'm baaack with another part! we hit 100 kudos on ao3, thank u lots! :) i'm sorry if the chapters are coming out at such a slow pace, i've got tons of things going on and ofc i always try to update in between them! i lovee writing! <3 enjoyYYY hope u like it !!

The night took a hard turn for Bruce. The lighting symbol in the night, with a silhouette of a bat, was indeed a calling from his fellow ally and a so-called friend, Gordon.

There has been a murder. A big one according to the words that left Gordon's mouth as he arrived to the roof of an old building, where the light sat.

A quick drive to a big mansion in upper city, swarmed with paparazzi outside made Bruce question everything, what he was about to experience.

He and Gordon entered from the back doors, hidden from the sight of paparazzi and news reporters, who were standing and watching outside, waiting for anything to happen or anyone to speak out.

They both walked up the stairs up to the room. Meeting by few other officers, exchanging a professional nods inbetween each other. As they finally near the room, he suddenly gets stopped by a firm palm on his chest. Stopping him from entering and cutting him away from Gordon, who already entered.

"Woah, woah, woah... Police action," the police officer proudly says, pushing his palm against the hard chest-plate.

Gordon turns on his heels, muttering something under his breath as he leans closer to the officer

"He's with me, officer."

Gordon says to the officer, who keeps his hand on the towering man in armor.

"Are you kidding me, sir?" The officer turns back to Gordon, his eyes full of disbelief or even disgust, "you gonna let him in here?"

Bruce stares daggers into him, his eyes not elaving the officer in front of him. As if his gaze could freeze him. He watches, his eyes steady.

"Martinez," Gordon hisses at the officer, leaning closer to his side, "let him through."

With a shake of head, the officer, Martinez, unpleasantly puts his hand down from his chest. Moving out of the way in the doorframe.

Bruce—Batman, stares down at the man, his eyes watching every move the smaller looking officer, comparing to him, makes. The disgusted face he makes as he puts his arm down from holding him.

"Goddamn freak!" The officer mutters, loud enough to be hear by the Vengeance himself, a scowl on his face as he watches the two of them enter the crime scene.

Here he lays, on the leather couch, his arms stretched on the arm-rests. One of his hands in a paper bag. A man is on his side, holding a small torch to keep light on the certain parts of the body. Inspecting it.

The body's head is wickedly covered in a grey duct tape.

He walks closer, right behind Gordon. The lieutenant asks something the man, that is currently inspecting the head of the body. The man looks up, his eyes quickly flickering to the towering man behind Gordon. His shoulders tensing as he looks at the other man, who now walks around the body of the victim, who was murdered.

"Detective?" Gordon asks the man, whose attention was on the towering man in black, with the pointed ears. His gaze flickers back to his coworker and he breathes out.

The man now describes everything what they got so far from the body.

"All this blood is from the head?" Gordon asks as he takes a look at the taped head of the man. His eyes moving around, taking it all in.

"No," the man mutters and moves away from his head, moving towards the paper bag covered hand. He moves towards the hand, but is met with the solid statue of Batman. His frame blocking his path, then he mutters, "excuse me..."

"Most of it is from his hand," he nods towards the hand, slowly reaching for the paperbag with gloved hands. He pulls off the paper bag and then grabs the dead man's wrist, lifting his hand.

Which is missing a thumb.

Gordon takes his little light and shines it onto the raised hand with a disgusted scowl on his face as he examines the missing space on the pale hand.

"He was alive when it was cut off," a deep rough voice speaks out from behind the two.

They both look at the towering dark mam, who's now looking at the raised pale thumb-missing wrist.

"Ecchymosis," he nods at the hand. Detective looks back at the pale hand that he's holding. His brows furrowing.

A loud chipper of camera's flashes and taking pictures can be heard as the men examines the dead body. Looking at the possible causes, motives or anything helpful. Batman then moves away, walking towards a spot of blood on the floor, his eye narrowing as he looks at the small patch of blood. Which is to him, oddly shaped.

A photographer comes from behind him, snapping a few photos of the weird blood spot on the floor.

Batman moves around the room aimlessly, looking at all spots and spaces around to take it all in. To find something.

The detective holds out something to Gordon in his white gloved hands. A green envelope.

Gordon takes it from detective's hands and opens the envelope. Pulling out a kids-like birthday card. A big-eyed blue owl, with a friendly looking skeleton on the front.

Above them is written;

'FROM YOUR SECRET FRIEND'

'WHOO?'

Gordon reads it out loud and opens it slowly. His brows furrowing as he notices the weird symbols on the other side, his eyes then turn to the page with normal letters and words.

"Let's play a game. Just me and you..." He reads out loud the printed in writing on the side, his eyes then once again turn to the other side, "What does a liar do when he's dead?"

Batman laggardly steps forward to the two men. The detective reaches for something on a table near, his arms reaching for a long paper with unknown drawn symbols.

"Any of this mean anything to you?" Gordon's gaze flickers up to meet the bat's eyes. His gaze flips and looks at the symbols on the paper.

"What's going on here?" Another voice suddenly sounds out. A smaller looking man comes into the room. Gordon's gaze wanders to him, his shoulders dropping as he notices him.

"I asked him to come, Pete," Gordon nods his head towards the towering dark man, who stands by his side.

"This is a crime scene!" The smaller man exclaims with high pitched voice. He stalks forward to them angrily, poiting at each of them, "it's Mitchell for Christ's sakes! I got the press downstairs!"

"This is way over the line!" The man points his finger at the masked man, standing by the detective.

Gordon then holds out the green envelope for the man to see.

'To The Batman'

"Wait... He's involved in this?" The chubby man once again loudly exclaims, his arms swinging in the air as he scowls at his coworker in front of him. He shakes his head quickly, "No, He's not involved—"

"How do you know?" The chubby man raised his high pitched voice, "he's a goddamn vigilante! He can be a suspect!"

The two coworkers start to argue between each other. Pointing and raising voices at each other as they argue over the third one.

"He lies still."

The third one says. His back turned to him, cape hiding his form from both of them. He steadily turns around.

"The riddle," Gordon turns back to his coworker, raising the now opened card, "What does a liar do when he's dead? He lies still."

The chubby man's mouth drops, his brows furrowing and making his forehead look scrunched. The glasses on his nose dropping lower as he puts his hands on his chubby hips. With a sigh, he takes a few steps forward, his gaze flickering to the taped head of Don Mitchell, seated stiffly on the couch.

"Oh, Jesus..." He breathes out, looking at the body. His head then turns towards the man on his left, his scowl deepening as he says to the man; "this must be your favorite day of the year... Happy fucking halloween!"

Another officer comes into the room, asking for the commissioner. With another deep breath, the man is quickly stalking to Gordon, pointing anegily at the vigilante, "I want him out of here... Now!"

Then he's on his heels, leaving the room with the officer, who called for him.

Gordon shakes his head and walks towards the towering dark man and whispers to him, "C'mon..."

Without another word, they're both turning away from the crime scene, leaving the room. But at the door, Batman suddenly stops. His gaze falling to a little blood spot. A bloody footprint. Small. Child-like.

He stays frozen, his eyes on the small red footprint on the wooden floor. Gordon then walks forward towards the man.

"Yeah... Kid found him," he rasps out. Batman's head turns, his gaze falling onto the face with glasses and mustache by him. He nudges him to walk away, his body turning as they leave the room.

They walk through the wooden hallway together. Then Batman stops, once again, at another door. It's open ajar, a little boy sitting on a kids sozed bed in red clothing, a pumpkin bucket on the table nearby, with candies peeking out. He's hunched over, his legs swinging, not touching the floor. Batman watches. Bruce watches. His heart does this weird thing, as if it's about to explode, like it's been somehow touched. He seems himself. He sees the little boy he once was. His parents death flashes in front of his eyes, bringing the memories back, which were pushed far away in his mind. The history repeating itself.

The little kid's head rises, as if he heard the Batman's thoughts from there. His little eyes flicker to the side, to the towering man in armor with pointed ears. His head rises as he looks at him.

"We really gotta go, man," Gordon suddenly appears at his side, pulling him out of his thoughts and staring. He takes a last look at the little boy and then turns around, leaving with Gordon.

Through the windows, he can see the crowd around the commissioner who they met few moments ago. The paparazzi and news reporters from before, now swarmed around him as if he was Saint. Microphones everywhere, cameras flashing, recording every single word leaving that man's mouth.

Gordon and Batman parts their paths once they're out. Gordon leaves towards the crowd, pushing his way through to stand by the man speaking. Batman leaving to the alleyway a few streets away, hidden inbetween the shadows of the buildings. A quick chance in the alley, he's now someone else. A hoodie, bomber jacket, and pair of cargo pants. His hair disheveled on his head. He feels different. He is someone else now. As if the mask made him different person. It did. But to him, it was like someone totally else.

He mounts the motorbike he hid in the alleyway and starts it, roaring into life. It's lights flickering on. The machine roaring and shaking as it comes to life. He slips on the helmet and then he's off.

Ripping through the dark night of the Gotham City.

"That's insane."

You're sitting on your couch in your small living room. Your legs pulled to your chest on the couch, a big thick dark red colored blanket over your lower body. Your friend, Angus, is sat on a kitchen chair, which he's dragged into the living room. A bottle of beer sat in his lap, his hair disheveled and his blouse unbuttoned on the top. His socked feet are propped on the small table in front of him.

"I'm not even joking," you exclaim loudly, an open-mouthed smile on your face as you tell your friend the story of what happened to you few hours ago.

"God, I wish that was me," he sighs out loud, his head dramatically dropping down, his eyes closing.

"No, you don't! What if he didn't show up? Do you realize I was about to be—"

"I know! I know!" He exclaims loudly, his hands shooting up in surrender, his head shooting up. His beer spilling dew drops as his hands hang in the air.

"But it was Bat-fucking-man!" He whispered, his wonderlike expression on his face. As a child who woke up on a Christmas morning, finding a cookie bitten and presents under the tree. His expression then suddenly changes, his brows furrowing, a frown coming onto his face.

"What?" You ask him, noticing his sudden change.

"Do you think he's hot under that mask?"

You both burst out laughing, your hands coming to your face, eyes screwing shut as you laugh. Angus' beer nearly drops as he leans forward. His head dropping and his legs kicking against the table.

"Don't— Don't you fucking kick my table!" You yell out at your friend, your hand easily slapping the back of his head as he is leaned forward with his head dropped, "do you know how much this cost? How long it took me to set it up?"

"I fucking set it up!" His body shoots up, his hand coming up towards the back of his head, where you slapped him. His hand holding it as he dramatically moves away from you in a painful manner.

"Okay, okay. Calm down," he breathes out, cluthing his chest at the side, where his heart is, "both of us!"

A brief moment of silence come over the atmosphere of the room. Soft breathing and the sound of city sounding in the room. The TV playing in the background quietly, some channel playing. Angus slowly leans back onto his chair, his head falling to the side.

"I gotta ask... How did the interview go? How'd your prince treat you?" He asks sheepishly, smirk on his face, his dimples showing. The beer in his hand now sat in between his legs, empty.

You nearly feel blush form on your cheeks at mention of the interview. Your mind suddenly fogs and his charming shy smile appears. The slight shy, awkward boy in front of you, standing, asking you if you want anything. The way he spoke about you. The way he—

Your name sounds out. Angus is staring at you, leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, blue wide eyes on you, and of course, his stupid grin.

"You're whipped for that man!" He quipped in, his loud giggles echoing around the living room.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you hug the blanket around yourself, trying to mask the warmth creeping up your neck. “I am not,” you disagree with your friend.

“It was a normal meeting, okay? He just… offered me a job," you groan, burying your face in your hands for a second before looking back at him. Your eyes meeting his.

"Woah, no shit. He wouldn't just kick you out."

You chuckle at that, "he wants me to be his... assistant. He said he needed someone he could trust.” You tell him.

Angus eyes you for a moment, then leans in slightly. “And? What then? What did you say?”

"I told him I needed to think about it.”

Angus blinks at that, "think about it? Are you insane? That’s Bruce fucking Wayne. Billionaire, genius, Gotham’s prince or whatever... Your prince!"

"I know! I know! It was just... quick turn of events?" You whispered the last part, looking up at your friend, who's sat on the chair before you.

"Quick turn of events? Oh, girl!" He facepalms his forehead, his head dropping backwards. A groan escaping his mouth.

"Just... Just accept it or whatever," he mutters as his hand moves down his face, while his head is still dropped backwards.

It's not like you weren't sure if to accept the job. You were sure about the job, it's one of the best. Especially in a city like this one. People would kill for this job. And for the most of them, it would cost a big fortnute just to get a meeting with Bruce Wayne.

It wasn’t the job itself that had you hesitating. It was everything that came with it. Everythign what came after accepting the job. Bruce Wayne wasn’t just any employer. He was the kind of an employer, the kind of a man whose name alone carried weight, whose presence could shift the balance of an entire room. All gazes on him. All ears on him.

Angus let out another exaggerated groan, rubbing his temples as if your indecision physically pained him. “You’re thinking too much. Just say yes. You want to say yes.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Of course, I do. But—”

“But what?” He whispered-yelled, then he groaned again, dramatically throwing his hands up, "listen, do you think Bruce Wayne just wants you for no reason? He sees what he wants and he takes it.”

He jabbed a finger in your direction, "and you! You are over here questioning the opportunity of a lifetime like a total idiot.”

“Wow, thanks,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms, leaning backwards with a sigh.

"Jeez, girl! Can you stop?" Angus groaned, grabbing the bottle in front of him and sipping from it. Rolling his eyes as he does so.

"I know how it sounds, but y'know! Think about it! Bruce Wayne doesn’t personally offer jobs to people like me. He has assistants, managers, some important people! He probably has a whole team for that. So why did he do it himself? Why me?” You groaned, pressing your palms against your face as you thought about it.

Angus tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair, his expression shifting from exasperation to something more thoughtful.

"Okay, fine. Maybe it is weird that he handled it personally. But maybe... Just maybe, it’s because you’re actually good at what you do. You know?" He nodded at you, the ends of his hair falling in front of his face. His cheeks slightly redish, or more of a soft pink.

You stayed silent after that, thinking about your next words. You thought about his words and it took a while for it to click. To completely understand it all. Before you could answer him, he took his own turn in talking once again.

"Girl, you work your ass off. You’re smart. You’re capable. Of nearly everything! Why is it so hard for you to believe that Bruce Wayne saw that and decided he wanted you?” Angus spoke out, his voice soft.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come. Because… he was right. Of course he was.

You were going to say yes.

You knew that from the first minute of when you were in the room with Bruce Wayne. The silence stretched into a comfortable one, just a brief of the moment of the silence was comforting until Angus let out a loud unusual gasp.

"Can you not—"

"They fucking killed the mayor!"

You both spoke at the same time, but you quickly ahut your mouth when those words left his mouth. Your head snapped upwards towards the TV, the reporters were currently standing outside a very luxurious looking house, which tons of policemen behind them. Speaking straight into the camera. You quickly turned around and looked for the TV remote to increase the volume.

Angus snatched the remote before you could, increasing the volume as fast as he could. Then the reporter's voice filled the room.

Your stomach twisted as the camera panned towards the luxurious hotel-looking house, police tape stretched across the front of the mayor’s estate. Officers moved in and out of the house. The flashing red and blue lights from the squad cars reflected off the rain-slicked pavement and also behind the reporter.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the screen.

"—Mayor Don Mitchell Jr. His body was discovered in his home late this evening, and sources confirm that the crime scene is disturbing. Officials have yet to release a statement, but police presence has increased around the city as the investigation unfolds—"

"—We’re getting reports that a message was left at the scene for The Batman. While GCPD has not confirmed this detail. No suspects have been identified at this time—"

Both of you are staring at the screen, the reporter's words filling the room with details of what they've seen and gotten so far. Angus shifted on the chair beside you, tapping his fingers anxiously. His eyes not moving from the screen of TV.

"That's brutal," Angus says, his eyes then finally moving from the screen, flickering straight to yours.

You both knew how Gotham worked. When things like this happened, they didn’t happen in isolation. There was always something bigger lurking beneath the surface.

And this was just the beginning.

i hope u enjoyed this! thank u milion times for reading! comments and feedback is always soso appreciated :)

give it some love if u liked it thank u <3

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part four

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 4/?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

summary: Continuation of Documents and Destinies — Your job is gone. Or is it? Bruce Wayne has another trick up his sleeve, which leads you two to meet once again. Late night meeting ends with another fight in the dark underground of Gotham City.

warnings: violence, swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: a quick pause. i know it's been few months but here is another chapterrrr!!!! so sorrry for keeping u waiting lol enjOYYYY :DD

Weekends are the relaxing days of the week. Or that's what most of people say.

So, why were you perched on top of your kitchen counter, staring blankly at the paper full of words at seven o'clock in the morning? In front of you, on the dining table, were sprawled multiple folders, papers and other items. One of your knees is bend and your chin is put on top of it. The other one is hanging off the counter. Your eyes are hooded with dark colored circles underneath them. Tired from the previous night, which has ended pretty early for you. Considering your friends have left the lounge at nearly three in the morning, you're pretty much questioning if they're even awake at this hour.

The weather outside has changed much since yesterday. The soft breeze has turned into full day rain, with temperature going down. The singular coat turned into multiple layers and the heels into boots. Gotham's weather is definitely something else. Nothing predictable.

The fruit tea —which you have no idea you had in your kitchen cabinet— is sitting next to you with its steam going up, warming the space around you. The smell is probably the nicest thing amongst the dark space around you.

The words on the paper are blurry and you are no longer understanding the sentences written there. Your mind is stuck somewhere else. Far away.

The quietness of the apartment is interrupted with a sudden ringing of your phone.

Your head shots up as the sound rings out. You look around to spot the ringing phone, which is nowhere nearby. You jump off the counter and walk towards your bedroom, where it most likely is on top of your nightstand, still charging it's battery from the previous night. It's most likely been on hundred percent for past few hours but that doesn't matter to you. The phone itself is not something expensive, or rather modern. It's living on its last few years. Who knows if months or weeks. The screen is cracked, the storage is full. You don't even know what is keeping up the storage full. The camera quality is nothing good.

But it's yours. And it's usable.

The ringing stops as you enter the bedroom and a ping! sound comes through, meaning they now have send you a message. Another ping! sound comes through as you near the phone.

You finally get to the phone and plug it off the charger to pick it up.

'one missed call from ANGIE'

You read the missed call notification on your screen. Then swipe up to see the other two messages which were left.

'ANGIE - pls come to the coffee shop at 5th avenue !!!!! the one where they serve grass tasting matcha'

'ANGIE - ASAP !!!! idc if you're sleeping'

"Do you realize that it's not even eight yet?" You mutter as you slide into the booth in the coffee shop your friend called you to meet at.

"And do you realize that you no longer need to work?" He grins at you as you sit down opposite him. His hair is sticking to sides, his glasses perched on top of his nose.

That sentence sparks an interest and your eyes meets his blue ones.

"What?" You laugh out as you reach for the tea and croissant, that he's ordered for you before you arrived.

"Well, your prince charming, the one who's 'just a client', has bought our work building... And the whole company," he grins widens, his glasses sliding even lower on his nose.

"Bruce Wayne has bought our shit-ass company?" Your jaw drops as you process his words, "am I now fucking jobless?"

"Well, kind of? You don't have the job, but the man has given every single one of us double of our salary." He shrugs and takes his tea, and sips it.

Your hands come down against the table, your jaw dropping and eyes widening, "are you fucking joking?"

Few people from the nearby tables turn to you with nasty look on their faces, some of them shushing you. Angie looks at them at mouths them a little 'sorry!'

"What... What am I supposed to do now? Just sit at home and… watch some shitty show with my doubled salary in my bank account?" You whisper-shout at the man in front of you.

Angie smirks, clearly enjoying your spiraling reaction. “Well, you could always be watching that TV show with no money, but now you got twice your paycheck," he leans back into the booth chair, "But no, seriously, we all got personal emails this morning. Some of us are being reassigned. Others are being let go. And then there’s you, princess."

"What's up with me?" You roll your eyes.

Angie leans forward, lowering his voice. “You’ve been specifically asked to attend a meeting. With him.”

Your jaw drops at that.

Angie chuckles, "Doesn't it seem like maybe your little client has been paying more attention to you than you realized?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands.

"Yeah, because that’s exactly what I need in my life. A brooding, mysterious billionaire with a secret agenda. Sounds super cool.” You groan once again, staring at the friend. He's grinning, twirling the little cup of tea in his hand.

Before Angie can respond with another sneaky remark, your phone vibrates on the table. Both of you glance at the screen.

'Wayne Enterprises. Meeting Confirmation: 4 PM. Wayne Tower.'

You stop breathing and your heart skips a beat. It's all coming crashing onto you.

You lift your head back up and glance at the friend in front of you, who's now grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Don't even—"

"Oh, girl!" He giggles like a stupid school girl.

You stand in your bedroom, staring at your wardrobe as the gravity of the situation sinks in. Meeting Bruce Wayne wasn’t something you had mentally prepared for when you rolled out of bed this morning.

"This is fucking ridiculous,” you mutter, flipping through hangers of blouses, blazers, skirts and different types of clothing you have there. You can't seem to pick one out.

You groan and pull out the sleek white button-down shirt. Then you bend down to pick out the trousers. Jeans are rather long and the ends of it are tearing, as you've stepped on it multiple times than you can count. You rather pick a high-waisted black trousers. Basic ones. But good ones. Few of accessories to add and the coat with boots, as the Gotham's weather is never predictable.

While you dress up, you're thinking of the times you've met Bruce. Twice. Once when he asked for the archive keys, the time when he drove you home, and when he returned them.

"Okay, alright," you give yourself a once-over in the mirror. Looking at yourself from all sides.

You quickly grab your bag and slide in a few essentials, which will be most likely needed in the meeting. Grabbing your coat and slipping on your boots, you're walking out of the apartment and going down the building.

You tightened your grip on your bag and step out of your apartment building, bracing yourself against the gust of wind that whipped through. The rain fell in a steady, relentless rhythm, bouncing off the concrete. You sigh and pop open your umbrella, its frame creaking against the force of the wind. Making your way to the subway station, a few blocks away, to get to the Wayne Tower.

By the time you reached the subway entrance, your boots were damp. You descended the stairs, the sounds of the city fading into the muffled roar of the subway below the city.

A distant rumble signaled the arrival of the train. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, watching as the train emerged from the dark tunnel in a blur of graffiti-streaked silver. The brakes screeched, and the doors hissed open.

The time went by quickly. You had a seat thankfully, so you didn't have to stand the whole ride.

The train slowed again, the automated voice announcing your stop. You straightened up, gripping the pole until the train came to a complete halt. The doors slid open, you jumped through the mass of people and went up the stairs, out of the subway station.

You adjusted your umbrella, taking a steadying breath as Wayne Tower came into view, its gleaming facade towering above the rest of the city like a fortress.

Each step toward the building felt heavier than the last.

"That's... it," you whispered to yourself as you eyes the towering building in front of you.

You walked up the stairs to the entrance door and the warmth of Wayne Tower’s lobby enveloped you immediately. A stark contrast to the damp chill outside

You push the silver button to ring the doorbell to be let inside.

The speaker crackled, then buzzed, before a voice broke through. An older voice.

"Hello. May I help you?" The older voice with an english accent spoke through.

"I—I’m heading to Wayne Tower for a meeting. To meet Mr. Wayne," you say to the man.

A brief pause comes. Then the voice is back, "Of course. We've been expecting you."

The ringbell buzzes and the doors in front of you automatically open, letting you in. You push through, murmuring a quiet “thank you” into the intercom.

The warmth of Wayne Tower’s lobby enveloped you immediately, a stark contrast to the damp chill outside. The scent of polished marble and subtle, expensive air freshener filled your senses, and for a moment, you simply stood there, taking it all in. It all felt so much different.

You shaked off your umbrella on a mat near the entrance, folded it, and tucked it under your arm.

"Good afternoon, miss," a voice comes from in front of you. You lift your head and you're met with much older man, his silver hair neatly combed.

He spoke your name, "I presume?” he asked, his British accent precise and dignified.

You nod with a small smile, "Yes, that’s me.”

He inclined his head in greeting, a small smile softening on his older face, "my name is Alfred Pennyworth. I’m Mr. Wayne’s butler. I'll personally escort you to his office, miss.”

"Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth,” you said as you walk towards him to stand by his side.

"Alfred, if you please,” he corrected kindly, gesturing toward the elevator. “Shall we?

You followed him toward the waiting elevator, its doors gleaming like polished chrome. He stepped inside first, holding a hand at the door as you entered. With a smooth motion, he pressed the button for a certain floor. Then the elevator began to ascend up.

"I hope the weather hasn’t made your journey too unpleasant?” He spoke, trying to make a small talk.

You let out a soft laugh at that, "It’s Gotham—it wouldn’t feel right if it wasn't raining, sir."

"Indeed," Alfred’s lips twitched into a little smile.

When the elevator finally came to a smooth stop, Alfred gestured for you to step out first. You thanked him and walked out, looking up at the marvelous hallways that you stood in.

You walked along the long hallways with Alfred by your side. As he reached certain doors, he paused and turned back to you, "this is it, miss."

"Thank you, Alfred,” you said, your voice quieter now.

He gave you a small nod and took his own steps to leave you alone to face this. You sigh as the man walks away and you look up at the dark wooden doors.

You raise your hand and knock. In a moment, a quiet 'come in!' comes through and you push the door open.

The office was massive yet somehow intimate. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the rain soaked skyline as the rain drops onto the window. The city sprawled out below like a sea. Bruce Wayne stood near the windows, his silhouette sharp against the gray rainy light outside.

At the sound of the doors opening, he turned. His piercing blue eyes found yours instantly, and a faint, unreadable smile tugged at his lips.

He spoke your name, his voice smooth and welcoming. “I’m glad you could make it."

“Mr. Wayne,” you said, offering a polite smile as you stepped inside. Closing the big heavy door behind you.

"Come, sit. Um- Can I get you something? Coffee, tea?” He gestured to the leather chair in front of his table and mumbled.

He wasn’t the boy, that everyone got him for. No grand gestures, no effortless charm that swept people off their feet the second they see him. No boyish smirks or remarks.

Instead, he seemed quieter, even hesitant, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate these interactions. As if this, this kind of meeting, wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable with.

"I'm- I'm not good at this. I don't usually do these... meetings," he said with a sigh.

"We've met before," you chuckle as you follow his lead, settling onto the leather chair as he sits on the edge of a matching chair on the other side of the wooden table.

"Under different circumstances," he says and rests his forearms on his knees, his fingers lacing together. His eyes running around the room, not on you. He was looking nearly nervous.

For another brief moment, the room was quiet. Apart for the steady patter of rain against the windows. Bruce seemed to be searching for the right words to start this conversation.

“I know this is… unusual," he began, his voice soft, almost apologetic. “Calling you here like this. Unexpectedly."

You softly smile at that.

"When I bou— acquired your company,” he began, quickly switching the words to more formal ones, his voice steady but soft, “I wasn't buying for money, for more growth. Those people, they know what they're doing. The power they hold, the company does."

You blinked at that. Caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity in his tone.

Caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity of his words.

"Carmine Falcone wanted to buy it first."

Your jaw nearly falls at that. Your eyebrows shot up. That name sent a chill down your spine.

"Falcone wanted to buy the company?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce nodded, "he saw an opportunity to use it for money. Acquiring a legitimate business would have given him a perfect front. Especially with one which has files about the whole entire city."

"So, you bought it,” you said, the pieces clicking together. “To stop him?"

"Yes..." Bruce admitted, his gaze wandering back to you finally, "but that’s not the only reason. When I looked into the company, I saw potential—not just in the business itself, but in the people. In you.”

"In me?"

A chuckle escaped him, something faint but genuine. His head tilted just enough to let a small, fleeting smile form, "your work stood out to me. The way you managed files, streamlined processes, and handled everything with precision—it wasn’t just good. It was exceptional actually. And when I realized what Falcone could do with those same systems…” He trailed off, sighing and shaking his head. “I knew I had to step in.”

It all felt surreal at this moment.

"So, now what?” you asked, your heart beating. “You saved the company. What do you want from me?"

Bruce’s lips curved into a faint smile, "I need someone I can trust and someone who knows the work, who understands the systems there. I want you to be my assistant—not just to help manage files and projects, but to make sure everything runs the way it’s supposed to, you know?"

You feel like you may faint at any moment now if he continues.

"You think... That I can do that?" you mutter, eyes leaving his, looking down at your feet.

"I know you can."

“I... I need to think about it,” you said after a few seconds.

Bruce nodded, his expression softening. “Of course, how much time you need. And… thank you.

He stood up and you did as well. Standing, he extended his hand. You hesitated only for a second before shaking it. His grip was firm but careful, lingering just long enough to convey something deeper than words. He walked you to the door, the two of you moving in silence, nearly awkwardly. As you stepped out into the hallway, you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on you.

Then you both part your ways. His gaze stays on you as you leave. His eyes trailing on your figure as you walk down the hallway.

Deep in his chest, his heart is beating louder than before. And he deeply knows, he only wants to hear yes from you. You're perfect. There is no other discussion.

The cold wind blews in your face as you walk on the streets. The whistling of the wind sounds around as you make your way back onto the station.

The meeting was brief and quick. Your mind is unfocused unfortunately. You're thinking about all different alternatives of accepting this position. What if you say no? What are you going to lose? If you say yes, what are you going to achieve? Or even lose?

It needs to sit in your head for a while to see the right point. The right path.

Your steps sound as you step down the stairs down to the station, clicking your card against the panel to let you through.

You walk towards your stop, where you wait for the old train to come rush past to get you home. The cold breeze under the city in the tunells fly over the people. You hug yourself in your coat as you wait.

The sudden sound of the train hissing in the distance gets you out of the daydream you were stuck in. Daydream about the infamous so-called prince, Bruce Wayne.

The train halts to a stop and the doors screetch as they open. People in the train walks out and then you try to make your way inside through the leaving crowd.

The train is kind of empty by now. Just few people sitting in the dirty seats, some standing.

A group of teenagers stand furtner down the train. They all have painted faces; like skeletons, or clowns. You cannot place it. But they seem no better than any other wannabe gangsters in the city.

As your eyes flickers to them, one of them is already staring at you. A younger one, his face pained only on one half. He looks like the youngest of the group, he looks scared. The white and red smears contrast sharply against his skin, his eyes filled with something between hesitation and fear.

As you stare at each other for a brief moment, one of his buddies notice the eye contact. He nudges his buddies by shoulders and snickers. You quickly look away, gripping the strap of your bag tighter.

You're happy that the meeting with Mr. Wayne was sooner than the Halloween event in the city started. During the night of Halloween everyone is outside in the streets, in masks, celebrating. One of the few nights where you can come into a store, face covered in mask, and nobody would a bat an eye. Gotham’s streets become a blur of masks and costumes, a perfect cover for those with ill intentions.

That's why crimes go up dramatically during this certain day.

The automated voice annouces your stop, you get up and hold onto the pole until the train comes to total stop. The doors open and you're already walking out.

They're as well.

From your peripheral vision, you can see the group exists from the doors few seats down. You clutch at your bag as you walk away from the train.

You're walking faster than usually. The station there is empty. Only you and the group behind you. You quickly make your way towards the stairs to get out. The station is nearly empty, eerily quiet aside from the faint hum of flickering overhead lights

You're suddenly yanked backwards. They snatched you by the strap of your bag. Stumbling backwards, you face the group of men with painted faces.

Without second thought, you turn around and run.

The younger boy stays put, his buddies starts to run. You see a man by his side shake him and most likely yell at him.

You're running, cluthing your bag and umbrella. Your steps echoing as you run on the station platform's damp floor.

Then it comes, one of the man reaches you. And his hands come to contact with your back, pushing you forwards. Hard. You spin around, barely catching yourself before you fall. You fall down at the damp floor of the station. You were nearly at the exit. Your knee scratches against the floor and your head thumps against the ground. A pained hiss leaves you.

"Fucking bitch!" One of the men roars as he arrives next to the man, that pushed you. He has a scowl on his face as he drags the young boy by his hood.

He pushes him forward towards you by the hood. He looks down at you, his eyes wide open as he stares at you. His wide eyes filled with something that almost looks like regret.

"Show her, man!" one of the buddies says as they push the younger boy. You move yourself up to sit, crowded by the man, sitting on the damp floor against the wall. Nowhere to run.

In the quiet of the station, there is suddenly a loud noise. A thumping of boots. Steps.

The younger bot turns around, eyeing the dark tunnell where the sound comes from. Some of the other men also turns around towards the sound. Some of them asking each other questions about it.

The sound is terrifying.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack of the man.

One of the men steps up in front of the group. Unzipping his jacket and pulling up a long machete.

The sound is closer, the steps echoing even louder as it comes closer.

You wish you could stand up and run now. But some of the men are still turned towards you, keeping you seated.

You don't see the tunnel from where the noise is coming from. But you know the person mist have finally showed to the light. The men are suddenly chuckling and laughing at the person. The younger boy quickly turns his head to look down at you, scared, and then he turns back.

"The hell are you supposed to be?"

The man with machete raises his voice to call out to the approaching figure. The person doesn't answer. By the sound of his steps, he's closer than ever.

The man with machete steps forward and swings his arm. Trying to hit him with the weapon.

What a stupid move.

The man is now laying on the floor, beaten up in a matter of few seconds. The machete clatters to the ground, its owner now writhing in pain. Bloodied face. You see him laying on the floor through the group of men in front of you.

"I'm vengeance."

The person finally speaks. His voice hard, deep and husky. A man. He stands up back to his high. Towering the group of face painted men. Some of them muttering and cussing as the man stands before them. You hug yourself closer to the wall, cluthing your bag and umbrella. Taking a deep breath as you watch the group and the man.

Panic seizes the group of men. The group suddenly moves forwards, attacking the man. They're all fighting. Your eyes widen as the men you feared fall to the floor in blink of an eye. The younger boy quickly leaps to the side, away from the fight. His eyes apologetically flicker to yours. His eyes glistening, as he keeps his gaze on yours. You nearly feel bad for him.

The man in black fights all of them. Most of them already on the ground, shaking in pain or fear.

A gunshot rings out.

The bullet flickers off the armor, that the man is wearing. He quickly stalks towards the man with the gun. His arm reaching out, he grasps him by the neck. Smashing his whole body against the nearest pole, a sudden wave of electric shooting out of his hand or a weapon. You cannot tell from your position on the floor. The man yells in pain and then the electricity stops. The man pushes him off the pole and he slides down on the damp floor. A pained groan leaving him.

The pained men, who were laying on the floor then slowly, but steadily stand up. Every one of them on different side of the station platform. Thrown there like a doll. They all mutter something inbetween each other and then they nod to each other. Then they're off running out of the station, Their footsteps fade into the distance, the last of them disappearing into the night. The younger boy hesitates for a second, his gaze flickering between you and the figure clad in black.

You gulp as the men scrabble away, leaving you alone with the man in dark armor. You now finally notice the cape and the black pointed ears. The symbol of a bat in middle of hos chest and the amount of weaponry on his armor. The pointed bat-like ears perched on top of the black leather helmet mask. The cape blowing behind him.

"Please don't hurt me," you whisper quickly. The weight of his gaze pins you in place against the wall.

The man turns his whole body to you, his eyes flickering to yours. His shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath and then he steps forward. The boots making a weird sound on the damp floor, as he stops.

"I won't hurt you," he tells you, coming closer to your sitting form on the floor.

His hand raised towards you, "come on."

You look down at his outstretched hand and then back up at his face. You sigh and clasp your smaller hand onto his gloved up. He helps you stand up effortlessly.

You finally stand on your shaken knees, his bigger body towering above you. His head hung low as his eyes watch you.

"Thank... Thank you," you stutter out as you put your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes flicking to his. He's standing steadily in front of you. As he hears your answer, he nods.

"Go home," The rough deep voice sounds out again. His feet moving as he steps away from you without turning his back.

You breathe out a soft puff of breath and nod, "yeah, that's where I was headed."

You then take a step forward towards him, your eyes not leaving his. You have something on your mind. You open your mouth and then close it without saying what you wanted to say.

You walk past him. A sigh coming out of you as you make your way towards the stairs which lead you out of the station. As you're reaching the stairs, you turn your head to the side, to catch a quick glimpse of the man again. When your head is turned, and your eye sfell on the place, where he stood few moments ago, you don't see him anymore. The spot is empty, the station is quiet once again. As if he was never there. As if he left without a single trace in the world. By a blink of an eye. He's suddenly gone.

You're wondering how such a bigger person, fully dressed up in armor and cloak, strapped weapons for combat, can leave without a single trace or a single sound. Like a feather.

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

eeekk here is the fourth part i hope you liked it even if it was shorter !!! we're finally moving up with the actual movie yipp

thank you for reading :)))

give it some love if u liked it thank u <3

[writeoffside]

hi i am still alive and still writing i just kind of got lost in reading other fanfictions.... and kind of forgot to write my own !!! documents and destinies next part today i promise

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part three

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 3/?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

summary: Continuation of part one and two of documents and destinies — You both have different views, different lifestyles, you're two completely different people. You finally seem to get closer with your co-workers but the night seem to take it all away from you the same exact day. Bruce also finds himself getting closer, but to you. Even hurt, he thinks of you.

warnings: swearing, usual violence, drugs, mentioned of medical conditions

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: part thrEee!! i hope ur gonna be fine with my picks for this chapter :) if someone is more of a partaaayyyy type, im sorry </3

He was, once again, limping back home. His usual confident stride of a walk was replaced with a noticeable limp. He was dragging his leg and there was a particular pain in his side, a sharp one. His suit was dirty, the wet clothes full of dirt and blood sticked to his skin. It hung heavy on him. His knees were bucking as he held himself on his trembling legs.

He slid off the bike cautiously, cursing to himself for not taking the car tonight. His movements were labored and limped. 

Cluthing his side as he tried to stand steady on his buckled knees. He slowly approached the table in the centre of the cave and pulled the nearest chair. With no thoughts he collapsed down onto it, crashing against the table next to him. Crashing his hurt sides against the edge of the table with a loud thud, making some things fall off it.

"Damn it! Fuck!" He shouted as he quickly cluthed his aching side. A impact shot a sharp jolting paint through his whole, already bruised and aching, body. 

He tried to adjust his position on the chair, to be further from the table but every move of his body seemed to make the pain even worse than it actually was. 

A pained gasp left his lips as he reached for the small medical kit with supplies on the table. As he reached forward for it, another shot of pain jolted through his body, making his arm crash against the kit and push it off the table. The sharp pain shooting through his body made it difficult to take care of his own injuries by himself.

"Damn it all," he breathed out, frustration in his voice. His fist dropping onto the table with a loud sound.

Other items fell from the table — paperworks, books, gadgets and medical supplies what he needed at that moment.

He cursed under his breath and shut his eyes with a ragged breath. He leaned forward to retrieve the fallen objects, with one hand cluthing his bruised side. A gasps coming out of his lips as he leans downward.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened wide and the butler himself entered the cave. His eyes widened at the sight of his young master, leaning down, holding his side, dirty and bloody with half of his items on the floor.

"Bruce! You're injured and you're trying to handle all this yourself?" Alfred become frustrated as well, coming quickly to his side, holding his shoulder. His voice sharp but full of concern.

"I can manage this myself." Bruce muttered under his breath, leaning back up against the chair, teeth baring out as another pain shoots throughout his body. His palm digging into his side as he cluthes it as hardest as he can. 

Alfred quickly shakes his head and picks up the fallen medicak supplies from the floor. Gathering all the needed items and putting them back up. He quickly tried to get ahold of Bruce and sit him comfortably back into the chair, without him sliding off it.

Alfred carefully unfastened the parts of the suit. The particular hard part was the cowl this time. A pained groans and gasps were coming out of his lips as Alfred held the cowl in his head. A demanding 'stop, stop, stop it!' were coming out of Bruce's lips when he tried to pull it off. He winced as the cowl started to slip up his face.

"Stay still," Alfred muttured strictly as Bruce kept whining, "This is not time for you to be stubborn. You've been through worse." 

His breaths were pained and ragged through his nose, his teeth biting his lower lip as the cowl slowly slid up. With Alfred's careful hands, the cowl was finally removed with a loud growl coming. out of Bruce's chest. 

He worked on the rest of the suit, along with the cape. He worked quickly but gently to totally minimize Bruce's discomfort and pain. 

As he was finally out of the suit, he slumped back into the chair, throwing his head back. The relief was palpable, even though the pain remained in his body. 

As the time went by, Alfed worked on his wounds and injuries. His steady, practiced hands were carefully working on each wound he brought tonight home. The pain was intense, but the presence of the butler and his skilled doctoring skills helped to ease it. 

From tending and cleaning the wounds, stitching few ones and helping with other ones. He worked in silence as he doesn't want to argue with the young master anymore. His movements of hands were cautious and precise as he worked. 

"Stay still, Bruce."

Bruce groaned and then nodded, "I'm sorry..." His voice now softer than before.

"It's not about being sorry. It's about taking care of yourself and knowing when to accept help from others as well. We all have limits at some point, even you. You cannot help others if you cannot help yourself, Bruce." Alfred's gaze softened and he looked up from his work.

Bruce sighed as he leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes as he did so. Letting Alfred's words sink in. Despite his own decision of being the night's vigilante, he was beginning to feel the weight of his own limitations. The events fo tonight did really take a toll on him and he knows he can expect even worse in the future.

After a while, Alfred finished tending the wounds and injuries. He stood back with groan and grabbed his cane, keeping a stern eye on the young master, who's draped over the chair.

"There. You're done," Alfred said, leaning himself against the cane. He turned around and began to clean up the medical supplies he used, which are scattered around the table. Putting the items back to their place and closing the medical kit. 

With a soft smile, he was on his heels, turning around, on his way to the elevator. The sound of his footsteps and the cane hitting the floor slowly disappeared as he entered the elevator. 

Bruce relaxed against the chair, dropping his head back as he draped his body over it. The cave, which was filled with pained groans and chaos moments ago, was now calm and quiet. The only sound were the bats in the highs of the cave and faint sound of his machineries, and gadgets somewhere in the distance of the cave.

His breaths were slow, the rhytmic rise and fall giving a small comfort to the body. Trying to focus on the sound of his breathing as he tried to relax. 

In the quietness of the cave, his thoughts drifted to the events before. The mission was supposed to go smoothly— hide in the shadows of the old abandoned factory, that there were meeting at, listen to the information, and then come into the scene. It has been more brutal than he anticipated. They noticed him as they met up, the flickering light showing his presence making the thugs call out for the help, who were watching over them. Taking him out without second thought.

His thoughts once again drifted, not to the events of tonight. But to the events from few nights ago. 

To you. 

The night's events had been intense and brutal, but the presence of you lingered in his mind. A spot of light shining amongst the darkness.

He recalled the brief interaction, when he came to your office to return the archives. The surprised expression you had on your face, which then turned into a beaming smile. There was something about you. The way you had reacted to the unexpected kindness he had showed you. 

The memory of your smile. The memory of your voice. He felt the corner of his twitch upwards as his mind raced around you.

The night where he took you home, in his arms and his car. The way you looked so vulnerable in your sleep. When you woke up, how your words were mixed with embarrassment and gratitude. 

He also knew that he felt disappointed with himself as well. 

For sitting, perched, on top of buildings, watching you. Keep an eye on your figure as you walked home. Just like tonight. 

Before all that action happened.

Those were brief moments of Bruce's life, where he felt like a human. Moment of normalcy in his life otherwise of the shadows he hid in. 

His actions, while he was with you has been a reminder of his human side of existence he has. A side that he doesn't usually show. Which he keeps for himself. A one, which is often behind the shadow of the dominant side of his role as the dark knight of Gotham, The Batman.

Work has been usually quiet today. There wasn't many paperworks to work on. Not many emails to send and check. It has been smooth today. 

You had everything done under a great time, leaving some time to actually get some coffee for yourself during the day. 

It was Friday and you couldn't be more glad how free the friday felt apart from the other ones. With no much to do, the day has actually passed quickly.

With a last folder in your bag, you're locking the door of the office behind yourself. Your heels click against the floor as you walk the long hallways of the building towards the exit, ready to go home.

Just as you were about to open the exit door, a voice called out your name.

It was Fabia, from accounting section, her smile warm and inviting. She quickly walked towards you and with quick breath she started.

"I was just wondering, if you were free tonight? The other girls and I are heading out for drinks tonight. And you're, like, totally welcome to join us!" She chirped with a smile. 

You stop and think for a brief moment but then a smile comes onto your face, "Oh, I'd love to join along!" 

"Yay! Great! I have got your number, so I'll add you to the groupchat, that we have with other girls! Just text us when you get home, so we can make sure you're all set!" Fabia enthusiastically said, clasping her hands together as she spoke.

"Will do. Thank you!" You nodded with a smile and waved her a goodbye as you opened the door and left the building towards the nearest subway.

As you walked towards the subway, you felt a sense of anticipation for the evening coming ahead. It was a nice gesture from your colleague and a chance to meet other ones and unwind with them.

The walk to the subway was quick. This time there wasn't a seat available, so you stood the whole way home. 

The train rocked to stop at your stop and you finally hopped off, ascending the steps out of the subway station, right towards the path home.

The second you were home, you pulled out your phone to the notification of being added to a groupchat. After a quick text to the group, to confirm your plans, the girls were already texting about the best bars and fine time to go. 

You took your time under the hot comforting embrace of shower. Helping to wash away the day of work. You lingered under the shower for few more moments, savoring the relaxation the warm water brought to you.

Once it was over, you stepped out and made your way to your room to plan the outfit of the evening.

In your bedroom, you laid out mix of skirts, dresses, pants, flowy tops, shirts, blouses and different types of clothes onto the ned. You ran your fingers over the various types of fabrics and let your eyes wander on the different colors.

After trying on different sets of outfits, you finally found the one. You firstly tried on a light blue jeans with a dark blue flowy top with a set of black pointy shoes you own. You felt like it wasn't the point you hoped for, so you tried different one. (outfit 1)

The second outfit you considered was a white corset top with a black mini skirt, with a nice tights and a good thrifted belt you had. It looked worthy a night out! But as you were picking it, the girls groupchat erupted with ideas of all being in black. (outfit 2)

Then the third idea came over you and that's the one you actually went with. It was a short black mini dress, with multiple different sewings and see through sides. The skirt was flowy and it was matched with a black belt around your figure. You paired it with two black high-heeled boots. with some dark tights. (outfit 3) 

It was perfect for a Friday night out. Comfortable, flattering and you looked hot! You decided that this was the right one and then moved onto the next step.

You sat in front of the little mirror you had propped on your desk in your room. You decided on more of a natural makeup than a heavy one. A one which enhanced your features just right. 

As you stepped back, you were pleased with yourself and your look.

The cold breeze of Gotham City biting at your exposed skin. You stood just outside of your apartment, waiting for the girls to pick you up to start the night.

Your arms were sneaked around your waist as you held yourself tight. Shivering slightly as the wind blows at some point. Pointlessly cursing yourself for not taking a jacket or coat.

The streets were relatively quiet. The distant sound of sirens could be heard, reminder of the never quite resting city. The hum of traffic from streets ahead and occasionally a sound of a cars honking. 

The girls were running late. 

The last message came around ten or fifteen minutes before, saying that they're around the corner. Shifting from one foot to other, you impatiently waited for the familiar headlights of their car to appear somewhere nearby. 

Finally, after what felt like ages, a bright headlights of a car pulled to the curb, where you were standing.

A sleek off-black car puled to the side, the window slid down and the familiar faces popped out. A loud chatter from the girls inside could be heard as the window rolled down and as well the loud banging of the radio.

Fabia was at the passenger seat, enthusiastically waving at her with a beaming smile. 

She shouted your name and you quickly walked towards the car, "Get it!" She exclaimed with a grin.

You hurriedly ran around the car, into the backseat where other girls were. You opened the door and slid inside. All the girls beamed at your sight. You were greeted with their excited welcoming, and even more excited chatter about the night ahead. Some girls even gawked at your look, which then came with a huge burst of genuine compliments thrown at you. 

From the passenger seat, Fabia turned around and gave you a sad smile, "I'm so sorry if we had you waiting so long! Marla's boyfriend insisted on driving us, because apparently we wouldn't be able to drive ourselves back home!" She quickly turned her gaze at the driver, who gave her an apologetic smile with a shrug of his shoulders.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you spoke, "No worries! At least we have someone to stay sober to get us home." You joked with a smile.

As the car got into a movement and drove off, the chatter began once again. 

"So... Take a wild guess, where we're going tonight!" One of the girls, Denise, piped into the conversation. Her and Marla were the ones who took care of which bar, you were heading tonight. 

"Probably the corner one, where you two keep going to... You seriously gotta find a new one!" A new blonde girl spoke, her name was Deanna. You haven't met her yet, only walked past her few times in the building. 

A loud laughter came from Marla and Denise at her response. They both clapped their hands as they laughed, making Deanna roll her eyes.

"Nah! You're not gonna believe this. We're not going to just some bar! We're going to the fucking Iceberg Lounge!" Marla beamed loudly as she slapped her knees. Toothy grin coming onto her face as she watched other girls. 

"We managed to snag a spot tonight, apparently it's gonna be packed tonight!" She giggled loudly, "also because Denise slept with one of the fuckers working there." She pushed an elbow into the girl next to her, making Denise hide her face into her hands and groan loudly. 

You couldn't help but feel nervousness grow throughout your whole body. The Iceberg Lounge was one of the infamous bars in the Gotham City. Frequented by the Gotham's infamous elites and even more infamously mentioned figures along the highs of the city. It wasn't the kind of a bar, you had expected to be going to tonight. But the nervousness started to settle down and a thrill started to go up, soon enough, you were laughing and grinning with the girls. Talking about the upcoming night.

"It's gonna be insane!" Fabia spoke with a loud open-mouthed laugh as she looked back towards the girls pushed on each others on the backseats of the car.

It was nothing like you expected. The night just began and you were already on your third drink. The dance floor was packed, the bar crowded with men and women, and blasting techno music sounded throughout the whole building.

The flashing lights, the loud music, it all felt distant and unfamiliar. Like you didn't belong here. It felt like you were watching from behind a glass wall, taking it all in but not quite understanding it all.

You were sitting with the girls in one booth around a round table. All of them laughing,  already in a deep conversation over multiple different topics. Fabia and another girl which you didn't recognize were draped over the table, giggling and talking about the hookups they saw and are planning to go home with tonight. 

"See that buffy by the bar? He's mine tonight!" The girl you didn't recognize pointed across the room towards the bar, where it was crowded by different groups. 

Fabia let her eyes rank over the bar until she spotted the man that the girl mentioned. Her hand coming up to her mouth as she let out couple of giggles. 

Deanna was hanging out at the dancefloor with an unknown man, swaying her hips and hold her drink in the air. A bright smile on her face as she danced with him to the beat of the music.

You remained quiet, swirling the ice in your drink with the straw as your gaze wandered around the people in the crowd. You were excited to finally go out with the girls but you were expecting something different. The infamous bar felt different to her than the other ones in the city. This one was alive. Too alive.

You made up a small excuse in your mind, that you would use to step out of the bar to get some of the fresh air. And maybe catch a nearest taxi to get home. 

Just as you felt that it was the right time to use it, Marla and Denise returned to the booth. Both tipsy with another drinks in each hand. Denise had returned with another trophy, not a drink, but a unfamiliar man. Her arm was linked through his as she grinned. 

"Heyyyy!" She slurred out with a tipsy laugh, "look who we found!" She exclaimed loudly with a toothy grin, pulling the guy towards the table. 

The man was unknown and unfamiliar to you. He was tall compared to Denise and other girls. He had a nice tonned brown skin with a set of locks on his head. A dark mustache under his nose and a stuble across his lower face. He had an earing peeking out from his ear. He was casually wearing a black tank top with what looked a dark green cargo pants. 

"Look what I got you, girls!" He slurred, his voice thick. A small plastic bags hit the centre of table with a soft thud blocked out with the blaring music. It's content sliding out of the opened side— tiny brightly redish orange colored pills.

The girls around the table errupted into gaspa and then laughter, everyone reaching for the bags as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Some of the girls let out a squeak of excitement as they pulled out the contents. 

For a moment, everything around you seemed to stop, to freeze. Your stomach tightened as you watched others take the pills with excitement. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest as you stred at the girls and at the bags on the table.

Your mind was racing. Your thoughts drifting in between each other as you watched the scene in front of you. Everyone was in like a slow motion. You watched as the girls had their own drops pills and use them. 

"Oh my god, Denise!" The unknown girl squeaked loudly as she pulled out the tiny pills out of the small plastic bag.

You didn't belong here.

This was not the night you expected. This wasn't the ideal night. It was supposed to be girls night out, dancing, few drinks, having fun. Not pills, drugs, finding men to fuck and reckless decisions to be made.

Your third drink was shaking in your hand. It was already making your mind swim, and the sight of drugs seemed to make it even worse.

Denise kissed the guy and giggled as she let him to sit in the booth with other girls. He sat with a smug smirk and his amrms were crossed on his chest as he watched the girls take the drops. 

Marla took one bag and then looked over to you, a smug expression on her face and she waved the bag in front of your face, "You want one, babe? This is the party beginning! This will get the night gooooing!" She exclaimed loudly as she waved the bag.

"No. I'm good." You gave her a soft smile and shook your head. Your mouth is dry. The pressure of the night is getting to you. 

You glaced around the table, Denise was leaning against the unknown man with her own drops and drink in her hands. The man staring down at her with a smirk, as his hand held her thigh. Marla was talking with Fabia and the unknown girl, laughing at something one of them said. Few more girls were sat around the table, which you didn't recognize. You were wondering if Deanna was doing this as well. She seemed happy on the dancefloor few minutes ago.

"I- I think I need some fresh air, excuse me..." You muttured, putting your drink on the table with a fake smile. Standing up from the booth.

Marla seemed to waved her off with no thoughts, too engrossed and high to even ntoice the tightness and fakeness in your voice, "Yeah, go ahead! We'll be there." 

With no other word muttered, you're pushing through the crowd, slipping away from the girls. The thudding techno music seeming to be more distant with each step you took. The noise of the music, the annoying people, the sweaty bodies, the blurry faces, it all melted away the second you reached the door. 

The cold breeze flung around you as you finally stepped out into the night. The distant sounds of the city being alive brought you back to the reality that you much belonged to. 

For a moment, you just stood there. Letting the cold air fly against you. Letting the chill of the cool night clear your head. 

As you stood there, breathing, taking it all in. You couldn't shake off the feeling that somebody was watching you, the feeling lingering in the back of your mind. You looked behind yourself, nothing. Just the doors you came from. In front of you another building, some rooms had their lights on, some not. Anybody could be watching you, it's Gotham. What can you expect?

You stood there, outside the Iceberg Lounge, where all your friends were. Having the nights of their lives, laughing, dancing, having fun. And doing drugs. 

Part of you wanted to just turn around and leave, go home, leave the night behind yourself. But the other part told you to stay. There was a voice telling you to stay. That you're gonna be the odd one in the group. The one who's not having fun. The one who couldn't keep up with their friends. Yet that part made your stomach turn. You didn't want to go back, sit at that table and watch your friends take various types of drugs. 

Evereyone else around seemed so in with the night and with everything happening there, ready for whatever might come. And there you were, feeling out of place. Like you didn't belong there.

As you stood there, your eye caught on the building ahead of you. Something in the shadows. A small movement. Quick and deliberate. Your eyes darted up and stared. Waiting for it to move once again. You waited, waited and waited. It was gone... Or maybe it wasn't even there at the first place.

You quickly shook your head, snickering to yourself. You're in literal Gotham! Paranoia of the shadows was just part of living there.

Your phone buzzed. A message came through.

"girl where did u go???? we're gonna be up all night! u sure u don't wanna stay and join the fun?" 

Fabia texted you. Then couple of emojis came through. You sighed as you stared at the message. You wanted to have fun tonight, but this wasn't how you wanted it go. You glanced up to the sky with a sigh and thought about your options. 

You sighed and looked back down, typing a response.

"Hey! I'm heading home. Not really feeling it tonight :( You guys have fun though!" 

You sent the message, relieved with your decision. With no other thought, you turned your phone and started walking towards the nearest subway. As you walked, you couldn't shake off the feeling that there were eyes blaring through your back. Watching your every move from the shadows. 

Far above you, there he was perched on the building, in the shadows that your eyes pierced at few moments before.

His keen eyes watching your every move since you stepped out of the Iceberg Lounge. He watched as you walked down the stairs to the subway station at the end of the street. 

As you were no more in his sight, he was satisfied with himself, knowing you were now safe. Out of the Gotham's dark ways full of danger.

He turned and disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving no trace behind as he made his way to his next mission into an old abandoned factory at the side of the Gotham. 

PART ONE

PART TWO

thank u for readinggg :)

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part two

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 2/?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

summary: Continuation of part one of documents and destinies — The mentioned visitor comes to give you another visit after he comes in to return the files he had borrowed few days ago, both of you unaware to the forming interest inbetween the two of you

warnings: none - just swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: part two finally woooo!!!! i loved writing angus so much, he is so silly:D i hope ur gonna like this chapter :))))

He couldn't stop thinking about that day. It's been nearly five days since he last saw you, as well for the first time.

He couldn't shake that whole moment from his thoughts. He imagined that little awkward wave you both gave to each other. The little smiles you threw. The whole interaction with you. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

He had work to do. He's read throughout the whole files he borrowed. Made copies of them, which he then gave to Alfred to check through them as well. Even as he was working, he couldn't stop his thoughts to wander to that interaction.

"Bruce?" A familiar voice sounded in the cave, pulling Bruce out of his thoughts. Alfred stepped out of the elevator and walked towards his hunched over frame.

"I was wondering if you've—" He stopped himself as he came to stand by Bruce. His eyes catching a certain video on one of the monitors in front of them, playing with the reddish filter over. The video was replaying on a loop. It was clearly a video from Bruce's eye lenses... Which held the interaction.

The screen showed the video where you stood in front of him. Your coat and bag drapped in your grasp and little smile plastered on your face. The video replayed the shared awkwardness you both had.

Bruce didn't even bother to look over at Alfred, who stood next to him. He didn't turn away from the monitors in front of him. He takes a step closer and observes the video in front of him. A hum makes its way from him as he watches the recording play.

Bruce finally shuts off the video and sighs as he does so. The memory stays in his head— the hesitant smiles, the eye contacts you've both had, awkward little waves... It plays over, over and over again. He remains silent, his eyes still glued to the monitor, where the video was shown before.

"Alfred," he finally breathed out as he turned his head to the side to look at his butler, who is standing there and leaning against the cane he holds.

"Maybe... Maybe it's time for a break, Bruce," he tells him as he puts a gentle reassuring hand onto his shoulder and squeezes. His body stiffening quickly at the touch.

A deep hum comes out of his chest and he stands up back onto his height. His eyes fixated on the monitors in front of him.

With no other word uttered, he's swiftly walking away from the butler, towards the elevator hidden in the darkness of the cave. His steps thumping against the hard floor as he walks away. Leaving his butler behind.

As the elevator escalates, the butler takes a step closer to the computers, monitors and more equipment on the table. He eyes the little folder icon on the monitor, which hides away the bright red colored video from the nights before.

He sighs as he reaches for the touchpad of the computer and moves the cursor towards the file what's sat on the screen. He presses the button and the screen lights up, the footage looping back to the beginning of the choosen clip.

There it is.

The screen is lit up with the clip that the young master has replayed countless of times in the past few days. The video doesn't hold the blackness sides of the cowl he wears during the nights. It's not through the eyes of the Vengeance.

But through the eyes of Bruce.

There is a woman, standing by his car, in front of an old apartment building. Her face was shined on by the glow of the city lights, a soft and genuine smile adoring her face.

The butler smiled at the sight. The footage followed all her movements. The way the lingered on her, the way his eyes followed her, how his focus was only on her, it didn't move nor shift. The footage showed how Bruce didn't watch with the cold stare what he had reserved for the criminals or the nights of work. It showed the brighter side.

There wasn't a fight, a crime scene, a chase with the criminals, no action. Just a moment of Bruce's real life, the shared intimate moment filled with the awkwardness and adoration inbetween each other. His usual cold behavior and confidence was replaced by this... Nearly shy, boyish behavior.

Alfred knew that under the footage, there was a smile hidden. A genuine one, not a one given to the cameras. A rare one.

He couldn't quite remember when was the last time Bruce has genuinely smiled like that, especially with a presence of someone else. It was an unique moment to be treasured.

The video played, the red colors shining onto the butler's face as he watched the video play. The woman tilts her head, her arms holding her things even tighter as another chuckle escapes her lips.

Then he heard it. Bruce's breathy laugh sounded in the video, as his head hangs down, his eyes adverting from the woman. The awkwardness breaking into something even more. It sounded natural, genuine. He knew Bruce for nearly his whole life, he knew that it was hard and and difficult for him to open up, let anyone in and hear him out. But this moment, it has changed everything, it was like Bruce was someone else. He had taken that one step that Alfred had always pushed him to take.

A smile tugs onto his lips as he watches the woman slowly take steps backwards, her cheeks brightly colored with a pink color. He couldn't believe that this was his Brice, talking to someone else than him and the common rich men and women he has to speak with other times.

The video ends with Bruce's hand in the view as he waves to the woman, who is already in the building.

It feels different one. The cave feels different. Alfred feels different. It's the same but also different... Everything seemed different at the moment.

The Prince of Gotham, Gotham's Billionaire, the one always hidden in his tower, no emotions showed on his pale face. The straight put answers with no hint of emotions in his voice, to this moment of shared awkward little smiles and conversations.

It was perfect.

With a final look at the footage, Alfred moved towards the elevator that Bruce took some moments ago. A sigh, once again, escapes his lips as he leans onto the cane he holds. His steps echoing in the cave.

He steps into the elevator and leans his back against the wall of it. The elevator began to rise as he pushed the button. The cave disappeared beneath the shadows and darkness as he was carried upstairs to the soft lights of the tower.

Alfred finally saw a different side of the young master. A different path. A one where the the young boy could step out of the way of darkness, where he hides within it, into a something softer, warmer. Something real.

Something human.

"Ring! Ring! Wake up, princess!" a voice pulls you out of the dreamy slumber you fell into. Work has been so exhausting the whole day. The amount of paperworks you had to check through, give to others, run around the building to get old ones, new ones. The amount of papers you've seen today is absurd.

Angus is standing infront of you. His wide toothy white smile on his face. The blonde hair slicked back with two straids falling on the side. Round glasses are perched on top of his nose. He's wearing a pastel brown suit jacket and a brighter pastel colored suit pants. A white button up underneath, with a black suit-tie with goldenish stripes peeking out.

"Fuck... What time is it?" you murmured out, pulling your head up from the table. Scretching your arms into the air as you lean back into the chair. Your hands fumbling over the mess of paperworks on the table, trying to find the hidden phone burried underneath all of them.

"It's nearly seven... But that's not the point, princess. You were supposed to send out the emails for the marketing shit that our boss is having... Like, two hours ago?" He leaned onto the doorframe and put his hand onto his side as he eyed you.

Two half-lidded blinking eyes stared back at him. Not awake enough to process the things he's saying.

You hummed as you slid away from the table on the chair. You spun around once and turned back to him and stared at the blonde man.

"And... I really need you to send out those emails! At the end of the day, at least, so we can finally finalize the last parts of the marketing thing! You know how angry Daniel gets if the—" He kept going, oblivious to the fact that the girl hasn't been listening to him for the whole time.

"Yeah! Got it! But first, let me just sleep for like... Five more minutes? I'll get back to it, Angie." You yawned and leaned your head onto the headrest of the chair. Your eyes closing. The weight of the whole day was coming back onto you, the exhaustion taking over once again.

There was a long pause between you, until it was interrupted by Angus clearing his throat awkwardly into the moment.

"Also," he began saying as he walked into the office and halfly sat onto your desk. His voice and tone sounding different than moments ago.

"Why the fuck did Bruce Wayne take you home few days ago?"

Your eyes snapped open at that sentence. Your whole body shooting up from the chair, making it slide back into the wall behind you. Your stomach twisted and heart skipped a beat.

Your hands went up to your head as you stared back at him with widened eyes. Your hands cluthing at your hair as you vividly remembered the night before. The night you met Bruce Wayne. The night he literally drove you home.

"Girl, don't look at me that way! That man literally picked you up bridal style, asked where exactly you lived and then he proceeded to walk out with you in his arms like in some fucking rom-com!" He threw his hands up into the air, his toothy smile back on his face as he spoke loudly.

"You saw that..." You mumbled as you turned around and walked around the office with your hands on your head. You couldn't believe the fact, that he carried you! In bridal style! And Into his car!

"Yeah, I fucking did! What the hell is going on in your damned life?" He spoke as he watched you pace around the office.

"Also, since when are you two on a fucking first-name and get-carried-home-like-a-fucking-disney-princess basis with the Gotham's billionaire prince?" His grin widened even more. Clearly enjoying this situation than you.

You rubbed your eyes hardly as you processed what he was currently saying to you. You weren't even hundred percent sure why he needed those archive files, let alone sure why he literally decided to personally carry you home. It didn't make any sense to you at the moment.

"I guess, he just felt bad leaving me alone asleep down there? He was just a client, he was there for work!" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to play it off while your thoughts were screaming and rumbling in your head.

"Right. Sure! That fucking explains why he was so kind enough to ask where you live and scoop you up like a damn damsel in distress. Jesus Christ!" He raised his voice as he threw his hands into air once again, "totally normal worker-client relationship stuff, yeah!"

"Okay, listen! I fell asleep, he picked me up, I don't know else I promise! When I woke up I was already in his car." You groaned as you walked back to your chair and fell into it, sliding even further against the wall.

"C'mon, princess! Bruce Wayne doesn't just show up out of nowhere and carry people home for fun!" He scoffed as he leaned towards you on top of your desk, that he's currently sat on top of.

You groaned once more and laid back into the chair, "Can we not? Please? I'm too tired for this."

Another scoff came out of Angus and he jumped off the desk and walked over to be in front of you, "Oh no, princess. I need answers! You don't just fall asleep at work and then wake up being carried by the Gotham's Prince, girl." He chuckled as he leans onto the side of her desk.

"Oh my god." He suddenly whispered. His mouth dropping open and hands coming to hold himself against the desk behind him.

"Are you secretly dating Bruce Wayne?"

The question came the most unexpected. His whole stance was stoic like he suddenly came to realization. Like a chikd discovering that it was their parents putting money under their pillow, not a tooth fairy. His eyes widened and mouth dropped.

"What the fuck?" You opened your eyes and started laughing loudly. Your hands coming in front of your mouth as you let out all your laughter.

"Okay, sorry, I just don't get it! But some of us wake up with fucking paperworks sticked to our faces or keyboard marks all over our faces. You wake up in car of a billionaire!" His eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he spoke. His hands gesturing around in the air.

"Do you realize how insane you sound, Angie?" You cannot comprehend all the wild theories coming out of mouth. He's fully in his own world with those theories.

"No, listen! What if he's testing you out for a new job at some high position at the Wayne Enterprises? No, no, no... Maybe, he's planning to make you his new secret muse! Or maybe, he thinks you're, like, the best new face of Vogue couple cover! Like... Imagine the headlines; The billionaire Bruce Wayne in relationship with an unknown girl—"

"I will pretend I never heard what just left your mouth." You breathe out as you slide your chair to him, pushing at his knees to get him off your desk. Your hands slapping his thighs.

"Sorry, princess. But there's no chance, that we're done talking about this!" He finally jumps off the desk and walks around towards the door, he touches the door frame and takes a last look at you with that toothy grin of his... And then he's gone.

The office is quiet once again. Some of the paperworks ended up crumbled as he was sat atop of. With an exhausting sigh, she drops her head against the desk and it lads with a thump!

It was late now. The office has gone even more quiet than usually. You were packing up, shoving the paperworks, files and the dark-purple colored folder into your bag. Already excited to go run through the door and go straight home, leave the day behind.

As you put the final folder into your bag a soft knock came from the doorway.

Your head snapped up to see the person. Your breath suddenly getting caught in your throat as you recognized the man, who just knocked on the office doorframe.

Standing there is the devil himself, Bruce Wayne.

He stood there, his arm up at the place of the doorframe, where he knocked onto few seconds before. As you looked at him, you could see his posture was different than last time. Less professional. His presense wasn't commanding and calm, but more of a hesitant one. His eyes scanning around the office and then landing back onto you.

He was wearing a white button-up shirt with a matching tie, underneath a dark buttoned suit vest. On top of it was a brown leather jacket. It was so much different outfit than the last time you saw him. His pants were baggier, but not as baggy as others wear. The top of his shoes were peeking out from the bottom of his pants.

You slowly stood up back to your height and blinked at the sight.

"Mr. Wayne— What... What are you doing here?" You stammered out with a quick clear of throat. Shifting on your weight slightly as you eyed the visitor.

"I'm about to return these," he said, mentioning his chin towards the files in his arms, "I borrowed them few days ago... From archives."

Your eyes flickered down to the files and realization came over you. He had actually taken some of the files home from the archives, probably already taken copies of them. You still wondered why he needed those archive files, when they haven't been updated nor opened in years.

"Oh! Those files! Thank you, Mr. Wayne!" you spoke as you flicked him a soft smile and walked over to take the files from his hands.

As you walked to him, he slowly entered the office, his gaze flickering around as if he was trying to find something interesting to gawk at other than you. But he couldn't find anything else, his gaze flickered back onto you and his eyes burned holes into yours.

"So," you began as you reached for the files, "did you find what you needed in them?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you." He paused and let go of the files as you took them from his hands. As the files fell right into your hands, the dust went flying around. Your face scrunching up as the dusk flew around.

"These are, like, ancient! Right?" A chuckle escaped your lips as you rambled, "I mean, woah. How are they still holding up? Looks like they would turn into dust as well!" You rambled more as you held onto the files.

His lips quirked into a little soft smile, his gaze on you, watching your every move. He leaned onto his leg as he stood in front of you.

"Yeah," he said softly, after a longer pause, he added "Are you embarrassed?"

Your heart felt like it stopped for a brief moment as those words left his mouth. Your eyes widened and your fingers gripped the dusty yellow papered files. "W-What? No. Why would I—" You stuttered out and then sighed, "Okay, maybe a little bit."

He raised an eyebrow at that, the faint smirk coming onto his face with a hint of amusement in it, "because of the files?"

A chuckle came out of your mouth at that, your mind was racing at this conversation, unsure what to say and what to not say. You could feel the color heating up on your cheeks. Your eyes moving everywhere but at him.

"I just didn't expect you to literally, you know! Carry me out of archives and then drive me home!" you said, your vocie mixed with embarrassment and awkwardness. It came flooding at you, the embarrassment of him, Bruce fucking Wayne, lifting you and carrying you like some helpless little figure, while you were asleep!

Your fingers were fumbling with the ends of the files and papers sticking out of them. Trying to distract yourself from this snd save yourself from another embarrassment. Your heart was pounding hardly in your chest, you hoped he couldn't hear it.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"You were exhausted." He said, almost in shy manner, "I couldn't just leave you there, asleep by yourself in the archives."

You chuckled nervously and shifted on your legs, "Still, I don't usually wake up to be driven home in billionaire's car!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips.

He let out a soft laugh as well, "Well, you looked exhausted. I didn't want to wake you up and tell you to walk back... You needed the rest."

You felt a wave of relief come over you.

"Well. Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you said softly, "I was mortified when I woke up in your car, but... I appreciate it. Thank you." You smiled up at him, your eyes meeting his.

His gaze was soft, a little smile on his lips, his eyes held yours as he stared down. Then, with a small nod of his head, he said, "You don't need to be embarrassed. It's the least I could do. You work hard."

"I guess I do, Mr. Wayne. Maybe, you know... I should leave the office at time, huh?" You chuckled at that, smile plastered on your face.

"That would be nice," Bruce nods with a chuckle. Both of you shared a soft laugh. Both of you genuinely smiling at each other. The tension between them easing.

"I should get going." He says with a sigh as he stands back straight. His hands coming to his jacket to straight it out. His eyes leaving yours.

You smiled and nodded with a little 'yeah, me too.'

It felt surreal at that moment. You and Bruce Wayne talking once again. You knew that Angus will storm into your office once again and ask tons of questions about this.

As he leaves, he gives you a small glance and a small smile. And then he's gone. Not in your sight anymore. Your hands are sweaty against the files and you feel like your legs are wobbly. The sound of his footsteps fading down the hallfway as he leaves.

Another realization came drawing over you, his voice. His tone. The softness of his voice today, not demanding like the last time. Today it was near, of a shy one. A slight hesitation in his voice. That send a warmth all over your body, your cheeks gaining the redish colour once again. Flushed all over again.

You, finally, forced yourself to move. You turned around and dropped the dusty files onto your desk, sighing as you did so. The dust flying everywhere around the office. You slumped into your chair, sliding few steps back, staring blankly at the files he returned. It felt strange. He was just a client. He was there for work.

Right?

With a quick glance around your office, you stood up and pushed the chair back to its place. Grabbing your back and slinging it over your shoulder with a huff. There was no point of staying there longer, processing the day. You can do that home!

The building was already quiet, The only loud thing at the moment was your own mind. Your thoughts racing each other.

You stepped out of the office, locking it behind yourself. Your steps were wuick as you left the building into the cold breeze, it felt nice though. Cooling down the redness in her cheeks. Pulling the coat tighter around you as you walk down the pavement towards the nearest entrance of subway.

Your steps were quick, the heels clicking with each step you take. Almost hurriedly. Your thoughts were everything as you processed the day.

You walked around the entrance of the subway, nearly colliding with another man coming out of the entrance. You neay fall into him, making him let out an angry 'Watch where you go, damnit!"

A soft apology leaves your lips as you descend the stairs down to the subway. You fumble with the subway card as you tap it absentmindedly before you go through the turnstile. You go to the side where you would be getting on in few minutes. You lean against one of the cold pillars on the station as you wait. The station is pretty quiet for the night, not many people there.

The screech of an incoming train snaps you out of your racing thoughts. You quickly push yourself off the pillar and come to stand at the end of the line, waiting for the train to srrive at its position. Quickly pushing the button to open the doors as you move inside. Thankfully found a seat alone. You plump down onto it with a sigh as you lean yourself onto it. The doors close with a loud sound and the train moves, leaving into the dark tunnels of underground Gotham.

By the time the train reached your stopc, you were hurriedly out. Walking straight to your apartment.

Unknown to the man following your every step, perched on top of one of the buildings in the darkness, invisible in the shadows of Gotham.

To you the day ended, ready to sleep it all off. But for him, it just began.

NOTE FOR OUTFITS :)

what angus is wearing >>> angus' outfit

what bruce is wearing >>> bruce's outfit (with less baggier pants though)

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

part twooooo is here:) i hope you like as much as i did writing it! sorry for the wait xx

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

[writeoffside]

⋆˙⟡ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

˚୨୧⋆｡ all my writings are linked below under each category!

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒...

SILENCE HAS OVERTAKEN - Harry doesn’t trust himself by talking to you , he wants to keep you safe but it really isn’t helping any of you.

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍!𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 / 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒...

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES - An unexpected visitor comes to your work to check out the history of his company, which leads you both to a tense search for the much needed files… Which is pretty tiring for you.

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part two

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part three

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part four

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part five

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part six

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒...

soon to come! :)

currently only writing for categories above!

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ requests are currently CLOSED!

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 1/?

summary: An unexpected visitor comes to your work to check out the history of his company, which leads you both to a tense search for the much needed files… Which is pretty tiring for you.

warnings: none - just swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: working on part 2 now hihihi

The time went slowly when you were stuck in the office. The uncountable amount of times you've checked the clock is absurd. 

Papers are all over the table, every single document staring at you back. The highly reflective colored highlighters sitting at the side of your desk. Nearly at their lowest as they've been used so many times in the past few hours. The documents are full of names, places, words, numbers and other symbols. Some names are unknown to you, some familiar. 

A sigh escapes your lips, turning to the side to look at the clock on the other side of the room.

It was finally reaching the time you were mostly looking forward to. 

5:58, the clock read. 

"Thank god," you whispered out to yourself. Slowly gathering all the papers from your table and closing the work laptop in front of you. All the papers are quickly gathered on top of each other and put into a dark purple-colored folder. The color is slowly ripped around the edges of the folder as it has been in use for a very long time. A white — now dark pastel brown like color sticker is in the middle of it. The sticker is pulled at the edges,

but still stays on. Your name written on top of it, written with a dark blue pen. You don't have the heart to switch the folder with a new one. It holds too many memories. 

In a quick time, all of the things you've had on your table are safely packed and put inside your bag. All the documents are starting to overflow your folder, which ends up taking the whole space in your bag. You know well that your shoulder is going to be hurting pretty badly when you come back home with the bag draped over it. 

Your boss had barged inside your office just a few days ago with multiple folders on top of each other in his hands. When he dropped them all onto your table, it felt like the table itself would drop as well and break down just there. 

He started talking about how he needs the documents to be checked, corrected, and put out into mails, then returned... And more instructions were flying onto you from his mouth. Which you've totally ignored, but gave him a nod as you pretended to listen to his instructions. The amount of documents there could be counted into hundreds and hundreds.

Now, thankfully, you were about to just go home and enjoy your night by yourself!

Or so you have thought.

As you were about to move your chair back to the table and make your way out of your office, a knock sounded on your door. Which sounded completely different from the knock your boss' usually gives you on your office door.

With a deep sigh, you made your way towards the door and pushed it open. The person who was standing behind the door was someone that nobody in the entire building would expect.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

"Daniel's not here," you quickly muttered out the first thing that came to your mind. Mentally slapping yourself for such an answer. Of course, your boss wouldn't be there... In your office.

"I'm not here for Mr. Meyer... The receptionist told me that you are the only one in the building with the keys to the archive. Is that so?" He asked lowly and looked back to the hallway that he most likely came from. 

"Oh! Yeah... I am the only one with the keys," you chirped, backing away from the door and walking back into your office, "I was just about to go home, but thankfully, you caught me just at the right time!" You laughed your sentence off awkwardly. He remained silent and with no other expression. His stoic' expression remained unchanged.

You opened the drawers of the cabinet, which was near the table and fumbled with the drawer, which keep the keys safe. Finally opening it and pulling out the set of keys that could open the multiple doors of the archive. The keys rattled with a sound as you picked them up from the drawer. 

Then in just a moment, you closed the drawers, stood back straight, and looked over to Mr. Wayne, who was still standing outside of the office. Now fidgeting with his fingers, with his head hung low. He stood here, waiting, with no intention to move inside the office to retrieve the keys himself from you.

He was wearing a dark set of brown pants, which weren't skinny nor baggy. A white pastel-like blouse underneath a matching dark brown jacket with its front opened. The little cufflinks with 'W' could be seen on the cuffs of the blouse. His shoes were peeking out from the bottom of the pants. His dark hair was falling into his face and his pale white skin was showing off.

You shuffled back outside and closed the door of your office. Your belongings still inside as you'll have to take the keys back and lock them up back into the drawer after you come back from the archives.  

"Okay... We can go now, this way! Down the stairs and then to the archive doors," you told him as he looked up to meet your eyes. His expression still hasn't changed since he knocked on your door. 

Both of you made your way towards the staircase with no words uttered between each of you. The steps echoed around as both of you walked down. The sound of your heels hitting the stairs echoed down the staircase. 

"If I may ask, Mr. Wayne... Why do you need to go to the archives? Is there something wrong with the documents we've sent back to the Enterprises? We can—" You were quickly cut off by his husky voice.

"No. There's no problem with the documents we've received," his voice cut your rambling quickly, "I've found something else... In the older documents. What my father might still have stored down there, in your archives... I need to check them out for certain reasons," he informed you as you reached the end of the stairs and started walking through the long, hardly lit, hallway. 

The walk to the archives felt endless.

The sound of your heels hitting the tiled floor started to echo around the hallway once again. His walk was steady and his steps were long. The awkward silence felt like it grew with each step you both took. You had to walk even quicker than before, to catch up next to him. 

"Here it is," you told him as both of you stopped in front of locked doors with a black bold writing on it 'ARCHIVES' and a smaller text underneath which said; 'RESTRICTED AREA; NO ADMITTANCE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' 

The keys jiggled as you looked through them to find the right one for the first door. The key had a little red cover on it with a little black bold number one, '1' written on it. Meaning that it's for the first door of the archives.

You unlocked the first door and turned to Mr. Wayne to let him in first. With a nod, he entered the room and walked deeper into the room. 

"Your father's documents are stored in the more 'locked up' side of the archives, the much more important side," you told him as you closed the door behind you. The room is filled with drawers, shelves and boxes full of important documents, the scent of old paper making its way to your nose.

You quickly make your way towards him, where he's standing by door with '2' written on it and some smaller text underneath it, which you don't care to read as you've been there multiple times before.

You unlock the door and let him in first again. Closing the door after the two of you. You look over as you see him stalk over to the next door at the end of the current archive room. 

God, this man has no patience.

"What's up with your father's documents, though? They've been checked, even multiple times and on different occasions... And your father, he used to—" You started rambling to him as you approached him but you were, once again, quickly cut off by him.

"I know. But I have to check something on them. For personal reasons and also to check up on our history, the Wayne Enterprises' history, with others... I know what I'm doing," he snaps back at you sternly, now looking straight at you, into your eyes. His brows furrowed. 

The tone that he spoke to you in, was no close to respectful, nor close to being polite. A scoff wanted to make its way out of your mouth, but you rather kept it shut. Your lips press into a thin line as you watch him look back at the door he waits for.

You unlocked the third door and let him in first again. He stops and looks over at you for a split of a moment and then he's turning his body away from you and heading inside, leaving you standing by the door alone. 

With another sigh, you make your way inside, closing the door after you. 

You made your way towards him, where he was standing. He was standing by the drawers with a big red 'W' written on the label, peeking from the side of the drawers. All of the drawers marked with red 'W' contained all the documents from the Wayne's. 

"You can... Um, check the documents you need. Just put them back into their place, where they were placed before," you told him as you watched him open the first set of archive drawers to check through them.

A few minutes went by, he put out about five files out onto a table next to him. He went through every single document and file, flipping through every page he came across. 

"Who's this?" He suddenly asked. His finger stopped at a certain part of the document he was reading at the moment. 

You stood up from the very much uncomfortable chair that you were sitting on. You made your way towards him and looked over to the documents that he was holding.

He lowered the documents to your height and his finger hovered above a certain name.

Scott Starkey.

His name was crossed out with a black marker. In every sentence, his name was mentioned.

You looked up to meet his eyes and then back down at the name, "He used to be close with your father. He worked hard to reach a position as your father had... Or at least one close to him. He was so ambitious and hungry for success as he, your father, had," you started telling him. Bruce's eyes stayed on you.

"His ambition to get to that position literally consumed him and morphed it all into one huge obsession. He fought against his own limitations. He didn't know when to stop... His friendship with your father started to tear, he couldn't understand why your father had achieved so much so effortlessly. His admiration turned into resentment, anger, and total hatred against him," you told him as you looked up to meet his furrowed expression. His stance was now noticeably different, he was standing straight as he listened to you.

"He dug so deep into your father's personal life. Scott started to spread your father's secrets and things about his personal life, your father's reputation wasn't going to end well for him, or anyone in the Wayne Enterprises if he would have continued," you sighed as you stopped for a moment.

"What happened to him?" Bruce suddenly rasped out into the silence with his question. He looked into your eyes and then down at the documents, which he was holding in his hands. A deep frown on his face after hearing thr backstory from you.

"I don't really know..." you mumbled out to him. Your mind going blank now. They never told anyone what had actually happened to him, he just left everything behind and never came back.

He completely disappeared.

Bruce hummed and closed the file quickly. The dust flew into the air. Floating around the two of you. The files haven't been opened for a long time now. 

A cough made its way out of you from the dust. You waved your hand around to get the dust away from your face.

Meanwhile, Bruce turned his body away and opened the next drawer, and took out the first file of documents, reading and listing through them. His brows were furrowed in concentration, eyes running over all the words, numbers, and symbols written on the paperwork.

You went back to sit in the chair you sat in moments prior. You didn't take your phone down there, so you've got no idea what the time currently is. But you know one thing and that is that you should have been home for at least an hour now. Not at work, sitting in the archives, on the most uncomfortable chair ever, and with the Bruce fucking Wayne.

You try to sit comfortably on it as you watch him go through another opened file, which is more of a yellowish color. Must be an older one than the other ones. 

As you watch him closely, you can feel your eyelids getting heavier. Your head slowly falls forward, hanging lowly. Your eyelids flutter shut and you can feel yourself drifting away into the darkness.

The sound of traffic and the rhythmic hum of a car wakes you up. 

You slowly come to your senses and open your eyes to see the road of Gotham City, full of traffic, in front of you. The rain is falling against the car.

The car. You're in a car. 

Your head quickly shoots up to look at your surroundings. You blink a few times as the very unknown and unfamiliar surroundings come into focus. 

You're seated in an unknown car in the passenger seat, with a seatbelt on. The interior of the car is black and looks way more luxurious than your car does. 

You look to the side and you finally see the driver of the car. 

Bruce Wayne is sitting at the driver's side, holding the steering wheel. His side profile is up to your eyes as you watch him from your seat. 

His eyes suddenly flicker to yours and you can see a slight hint of a smirk coming up on his face. And then it's quickly gone.

"You're awake," he says, his eyes returning to the road ahead. 

"Where... Where am I? I was at the archives. Where are my things?" you groggily ask as you push yourself away from the window that you were leaning against the moments before.

"Wait! The keys! I didn't put them back, didn't lock the doors! Oh my god, Daniel's gonna kill me!" The realization suddenly comes onto you and dawns slowly. You recall your last moments when you were at the archives; sitting in the chair, slowly falling asleep while he checked through the files. 

Bruce sighed softly at your rambling, "I locked all three doors. As well put the keys into their place and locked your office," you looked over to him once again as he talked, "your things are in the backseat, don't worry."

You slowly looked over to the backseat and saw your coat and your bag on the seat, with the dark purple folder peeking out. You smiled to yourself. 

Then the silence filled the car they were in for a brief moment.

"Thank you... For taking care of the things and taking me with you," you said to him after a few brief moments. 

You see him give you a small nod, his gaze never moving from the road and traffic ahead. His hands turn the wheel to the side as the car moves to the left. You recognize the street you're driving through.

"Wait— How'd you know where I live?" You ask him as you watch the buildings and cars go by through the window. 

"A friend of yours told me… Angus?" He answered, his eyes flickering to yours for a moment. His expression is much softer than back in the archives.

"Oh! Angus, yeah..." you sigh as you lean back into the seat, the tiredness creeping back onto you. 

You watch the buildings go by and then another turn comes. Then you see your apartment building just a few buildings away from where you're right now.

"This is me," you point out to the building you're nearly at. The building looks like any other ordinary building in Gotham.

Bruce nods as he slows the car down and parks near the curb, in front of your building entrance.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door of the car. Your feet meets the pavement and you stand up. Your body aching from the sleep.

You softly close the front door behind you and make your way toward the back door to get your things out. 

You're met with Bruce standing by the other side of the car, with your long coat and bag in his arms. He walks around the back of the car and hands you the items.

"Thank you," you utter to him softly, taking the items from his grasp, "for everything you've done for me today. Means a lot," you smile up at him.

You're so sure that you saw the corners of his mouth turn a bit upwards. A smile wanting to creep up onto his face. 

"No problem," he says after a long pause. He nods his head and leans against the back of his car, his arms folded over his chest, and closely watches you stand. 

His tone was steady but his eyes and posture said differently. His eyes held a hint of something even more. A very subtle, small smile coming up onto his face couldn't even be seen. 

An awkward silence took over your small conversation. 

You shuffled from side to side on your feet, looking down to the ground before meeting his eyes once again.

"So... Well, I should probably... I should probably head in," you say with a small smile to him, clutching your bag and coat to your chest.

"Oh, yeah... Of course!" He quickly replied with a shake of his head. As he pushed himself off the car.

You gave him another shy smile and turned yourself around to leave, walking up the stairs to the entrance of the apartment building. As you reached for the door, you looked back and lifted a hesitant hand to give an awkward wave to him.

Turning back and opening the door to the building. Your steps finally met the surface of the tiled floor of your apartment building's first floor.

You take a quick glance over your shoulder and catch your eyes with him once again. 

Then he lifts his hand as well, and a very hesitant wave comes back to you. A smile plastered on his face. His smile grows as he watches you disappear into the apartment building. A warm feeling spreading through his chest. 

With a final glance at the building, he walks around and gets back into his car. The childish smile not leaving his face at all. 

The whole ride back is quiet. But he can hear his heart beat so loudly inside of his chest. As he drives, he can only think of one certain thing. His mind is stuck. 

He only thinks of you.

PART TWO

bruce wayne fic is here! i'm so obsessed with battinson hahahah

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

[writeoffside]

battinson loversss!!

i have something planned for u guysss !!!! 🌞

ITS POSTEDD

HERE !! called documents and destinies :)

[writeoffside]

SILENCE HAS OVERTAKEN

♯ harry styles x fem!reader - angst / sad

summary: Harry doesn’t trust himself by talking to you , he wants to keep you safe but it really isn’t helping any of you.

warnings: arguing, swearing, nightmares, kissing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: first post on here, enjoy !!

The days had gone by since the last ‘i love you’ has been spoken between the two so-called lovers. The silence has taken over the sweet and loving house they used to call a home. It has no longer been a home. For neither one of them.

The uncomfortable silence during the dinners everynight was heavy. The only sound during this time could only be the knives and forks sounds scraping over the plates. Neither one of them even bothered to start a talk, not even a small one.

Everytime he finished his food, he would drop his cutlery on the side and leave the table without a word. Not even bothering to say a little ‘thank you’ for preparing the table, making the food or anything.

All the nights were terrible. Terrible couldn’t even be the word to describe how unpleasant the nights were. 

When he would leave the dining room, he would mostly go to his room or his studio and lock himself there. After locking himself away from everything, the uncomfortable silence would take over the house again. 

It was all just silence.

“Harry! C'mon! Are you fucking mental?” The screams echoed around the house. There was no more of silence. Only the sounds of screaming, yelling, swearing and throwing words around.

“Me? Fucking me? Y/n, you’re the one who started this shit!” I screamed loudly, hitting the top of the counter with my palm. Hissing the moment my hand met with the cold surface of the countertop. 

I had enough of this shit and all this arguing.

“Y/n! For fuck’s sake! You've been saying all this shit for so damn long! Don't you think that you’re the main problem there?” I yelled back at her, my last sentence echoing around the house. My eyes burning into hers as my knuckles turn white from gripping the side of the counter. 

“Fuck you, Harry! You've been locking yourself away from me for weeks now and when I wanna talk to you for a damn minute, you start all this!” She throws her hands in the air, pointing at me and her. 

Between us. 

I see a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly wipes it off with end of her sleeves. Her eyes are fully watery and her hands are shaking as she stands there in front of me. 

“Screw you, Y/n! Fuck you seriously! This is all your fault. If you wouldn’t be there, everything would have been fucking fine! Don't you see that you're the problem between us? Hell... I don’t know what else to say! Fucking hell!” I yell out. My hands are now digging into sides of my head as i close my eyes, my teeth biting into my lower lips as I manage to draw out blood—

I suddenly jolt awake. A gasp coming out of me. My hands gripping the sheets as I sit up, eyes flying open. 

Shaky breaths coming out as I try to catch my breath from the dream… No, a nightmare I've just had. 

Sweat drips down my naked back, as I sit and breathe. Closing my eyes and digging the palms into my eyes as I take deep breaths and try to stbilize myself. My heart beats quickly.

This isn’t the first night I've had this exact same nightmare. It has been happening for weeks now. 

And it's all my fault.

I push the sheets off my legs and stand up. My whole legs feel like they are about to break down just there. I cannot even stand straight.

The world is spinning around me as I try to stand. I breathe out as I collapse back onto the bed.

I sit at the edge of the bed, hands holding the sides as I lean myself over and close my eyes. I suck in a breath and let my eyes close for a brief moment. 

I sit still. The only sound I can overhear is my breathing and quiet ringing in my ears. 

My head feels like it will explode anytime soon.

“Fuckin’ hell…” I mumble under my breath as I once again try to stand up. My body swaying a bit, my feet waddling over the cold floor. My head spins when I reach towards the handle and pull it to open. 

Then I'm suddenly met with a person standing right in front of me. 

Their eyes wide opened as they stare back at me in shock. Their mouth drops a little when their eyes make a full eye contact with mine. My hands start to sweat as I hold the handle of the door. 

“Harry…” She mumbles out into the darkness of our house. The voice coming out soft and calming to my ears. She stands still and she doesn’t reach her hand to brush my cheek like she usually does, or doesn’t lean in to plant a little kiss against my cheek or right on my lips. She just stands still, her eyes deeply looking into mine. 

It feels like I've been staring into them for hours, falling into them. 

“Hey...” I whisper out, my voice coming out raspy. I lean myself against the doorframe, hand leaving the door handle and I cross my arms over each other against my chest. My legs still feeling wobbly and I feel like i'm about to break down just there and fall down right in front of her. But i stay still. 

“What... What are you doing here? It's late…” I mumble out, my eyes holding the eye contact, deeply staring into her orbs. 

We haven’t spoken for days now. I haven’t talked to her in multiple days in a row. I haven’t looked into her eyes. I did nothing. 

Absolutely nothing for her.

She shifts from one leg to other, clearly uncomfortable. My stare stays put on her as I await for her to answer. My eyelids feel heavy but I keep them up just to see her beautiful face. I wouldn't want to miss a second. 

I haven’t appreciate her in days. I haven't seen her, haven’t complimented her, haven’t kissed her… 

I've done nothing. 

“You've… Um... You've been doing something in your sleep," she says, her stare shifting away from mine. Turning her head to look into the hallway, ignoring my hard stare. 

She sways a bit, back and forth slowly.

“What?” I question her and shift a bit on my legs. Already slowly growing anxious over this conversation... I haven't spoken to her in weeks and this must be our first conversation in such a long time.. In middle of a night, her standing in her night pajamas and me leaning onto a doorframe with just a pajama pants. Sweat still dripping down my back from the usual nightmare.

“You've been screaming a lot in your sleep lately... Especially my name, Harry," she answers quietly , her voice so small that you couldn't even properly hear her if I wasn't that close to her. 

My stomach turns as she answers.

“Oh…” This was the answer she probably wasn’t expecting to hear. 

“Oh?” She repeats my answer and turns her head back towards to me. Her eyes coming back to mine as we stare at each other.

I missed the nights we used to sleep next to each other, when I could hug you, kiss you, tell you how much I love you. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you in any possible way. I don’t want to continue our relationship like this. I want us back.

I wanted to say to her. Wanted her to hear how it’s tearing me by being like this. Away from everything. Away from her. 

“Harry," she whispers to me, tearing me away from my thoughts. She breathes out a small breath as I stare down at her. 

“I'm sorry..” My words come out in a broken whisper. A breeze runs down my back. The hairs on my neck and arms stand up. And then it comes.

I suddenly break down.

I take a step towards her smaller frame and push myself against her. My arms sneak around her body and pulling her against me. My face falls against her crook of her neck and I hunch myself, letting my body collapse. Taking her scent in. 

I tighten my hold against her body and hug her the way I never did. My face lays against her neck as I breathe out.

I feel her shoulders move and then i feel it. Her smaller hands on my back as she holds me back. Her head moves a bit and I can feel a small kiss being planted on top of my head. 

Tears run down my cheeks and sobs fill the silence in the house. My body aches and shakes against hers. My eyes are shut and tears run down like waterfalls. 

My legs feel like they’re about to break against the hard wooden floor and fall down with my whole body. Shaking as I stand against her and the silence is fully overtaken by my cries and sobs.

“Shhh... It's okay. Let it out," she mumbles against my hair. I start to shake my head, disagreeing quickly to her.

“No... No, Y/n. It's not okay.. I was, no, I am a fucking idiot! I'm- I'm sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking. I don't know…” I stutter my words out, pulling my head away from the crook of her neck. My eyes running all over face.

“I was scared? I didn’t know what to do," I take a step away from her, my voice shaking as I spill my truth out to her, “I wasn’t thinking! I didn’t want to hurt you," i tell her with broken voice. 

“Hurt me? Harry, what do you mean?” She asks in her soft tone. Her sleepy but adorably beautiful and blown out eyes look straight into mine. Her eyes are searching for something in my eyes. She can see that I'm scared. 

She can see the fear in me.

“No, no, no…” I mumble out, my eyes shutting as I walk back into my room. My hands fly upwards to start gripping the side of my head, “You.. You don’t understand, Y/n. you won’t understand it," I cry out as I walk around my room stressfully.  

“Harry. I'll try to understand," she answers and walks towards me. Then she slowly and softly touches my cheek. Holding her palm against my cheek. Her eyes finding my teary ones.

“I just… Don't want you to get hurt because of me," I whisper to her, looking into her eyes. Finding the much needed comfort in them. My tears are stained on my cheeks and some are still trying to escape the hold of my eyes. 

“Harry... I want to help you. But, you need to explain to me what has been going on with you lately. You lock yourself away from everything and don’t even say a single word for days," she says, looking into my eyes and putting both of her palms against my cheeks. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes for few moments. 

I take a deep breathe and answer, “I know... I am just scared. I keep having this dream. Every damn night. And it scares me, fucking terrifies me," I open my eyes looking straight at her, “I don’t want to hurt you, or loose you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I feel so fucking bad for ignoring you, it has been tearing me," I breathe out, putting my hand over her hand on my cheek. 

My voices shakes through my answer. My vision is blurry from all the crying and I cannot form my sentences without stuttering or sobbing in between the words. All the fear is going on me as I talk more and tell her all the truth what has been holding me for past few weeks. 

“I snap a lot... in the dream. And I don’t want it to happen in reality as well. I snap and I say something that I would never say, never," I say, my voice shaking and my hands trembling, “sometimes I don’t wake up and it end up worse. I snap at you and I end up doing something what I would never plan on doing to you,” I whisper the last part, my eyes closing as my voice tremble. I tremble uncontrollably as I tell her the truth. 

“Harry... is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” She whispers, her eyes searching in mine as we stare into each others eyes deeply, "why didn't you tell me? I would try everything I could to help you, or at least try to help you," she moves her hand to my hair, gently holding me. My lips are slightly parted and I take deep steady breaths. 

My eyes close for a moment and I put my forehead against hers. Our breaths matching each others.

“I love you so so much, sweetheart," i whisper into the silence, “so fucking much,” the words spill themselves into the darkness of the room we’re standing in. 

“I love you too, Harry… so much.” she whispers back, “but you don’t have to be scared. you won’t hurt me, i know you too well..."

Then I feel it.

I feel her soft lips against mine. She kisses me against my lips for the first time in the weeks. Slowly leaning in, I kiss her back deeply. Showing her all the love i’ve been holding back. Her lips are like made for me. Our lips collide together as we quietly kiss in the darkness of the night. Her hands slide from my cheek to the nape of my neck and she pulls me closer.

“You don’t have to hide now, Harry. You wouldn’t hurt me. I'm here and always will be," she whispers to me. Her voice soft and quiet, like a dream.

“I'm so fucking sorry for locking myself away. For not being there for you... I'm so sorry. I love you so fucking much," I pull away slowly, my eyes fluttering open.

“Just... If you’re going through something… anytime, please tell me," her words get to me. 

“I will, I will... My love," I whisper to her. Tears, once again, forming in my eyes. 

The two lovers found themselves slowly rebuilding the connection between each other, what they both have thought that they've lost. The silence has been finally broken by the lover's confessions of his unspoken fears. 

my first writing on here! (don't ask me why my first ever writing was a sad one hahaha) hopefully you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it! :)

give it some love if u liked it !! yayyy