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neonovember · 1 year

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Hi babes!

Could you possibly write a battinson x sunshine vigilante!reader where the reader is just an absolute sweetheart in and out of the suit. Like she's super sweet to literally everyone she meets but she's also a badass vigilante. Maybe her and Gordon are close friends and that's how Pattinson meets her and he is just absolutely lovestruck when he meets her for the first time. Like a love at first site kind of thing, he's just absolutely whipped and enamored by the reader. Maybe written from Batsy's pov.

Much love babes

thank you so much anon for sending this prompt! I know this is super duper late, but it was a wonderful idea I truly wanted to do it justice. I made the reader a little morally grey cause I think it would be a little different, so I hope you enjoy darling! Feel free to send in any of your requests and asks and even if it takes time I’ll make sure it's done. (who I write for)

Carved in stone

pairings: bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of drug trafficking, morally grey!characters, Gotham itself (its a warning alright), mentions of loss and grief, and a hint of touch!starved bruce if you turn it upside down and squint.

word count: 4.6K

The darkness that surrounds Bruce as he steps into his cave is one that he embraces like an old friend. The light that shines from every frosted window of the Manor stabs his eyes with an insistent twinge akin to a razor blade that had been left to rot on a windowsill during one of Gotham's thunderstorms.

There is a child-like fear in the air of the glacier cave sheathed in its darkness, the kind that materialises into green monsters and pale ghosts in the thin veil of nightmares. The kind that causes your parents to check under your bed, behind your clothing rack, in your closet.

Places where shadows and darkness would settle and make a home for itself. For most children, that gripping fear would outgrow itself over the years, replaced instead with reaching the 5th bar on the playground, failing driving tests, and falling in love for the first time. That was life, but Bruce Wayne was hardly a normal child. He had surpassed his pupils years before they had even begun to walk on two feet, and yet, that gripping fear of the dark still sprouted open deep within his stomach every time.

He has to shake it off of himself, as he reaches for his seat in front of the blaring screens projected from his desk. What he had found was too important to be tainted by the pathetic fears he allowed into his mind. Placing the contacts into the surveillance reader, Bruce combs through the hours of footage captured by the camera placed over his pupil.

He had been trailing a shipment of drugs and armed artillery that was masked as a children's book delivery that had frequently made its route through Gotham's city streets. You didn't need to be Batman to know that it wasn’t the next edition of Captain fuckin’ Underpants being delivered to the underfunded children's orphanage. No, greed had taken over any sliver of humanity within Gotham governors long before the barrel of murders rocked through the suburban neighbourhoods and left hundreds orphaned.

He could hunt those killers down, but the crooked thug that had massacred his family was something Bruce would never be able to make it right.

The irony burnt a hole through the veil of what was left of him.

Gordon had been no help in tracking those marked vans down, whispering under the guise of the moonlight one night atop Gotham PD’S rooftop that it made his officers nervous. ‘Jittery and anxious’. Especially after so many of their dear brothers in blue ended up neck-deep in the underground crime syndicate they were meant to investigate, only to have their heads on a stick at the bottom of Miller Harbour.

Oh yes, Bruce knew all too well how greed had the habit of seeping into the morals of even the most respectable men, corruption had a way of appealing like salvation when you had no choice. That's what Gordan had said, and Batman laughed at that, shook his head and spit out in venom,

“There is always a choice, Gordon”

So it was up to Bruce now, the vigilante sheathed in darkness to uncover every small detail that could lead him to where these vans were heading too. This was different however, there was an unsettling itch behind his eyes, something pressing into his mind, begging him to see. And it isn't until he catches the flash of silver from the corner of the warehouse that he notices that someone else has been watching them too. Clicking on the magnified frame, Bruce leans in to try and decipher the glimpse of a face turned to the side, obscured by a black hooded cape that seemed to camouflage them into the darkness. The facial recognition software embedded in Bruce's computer pulled up nothing, not even a single trace of a face like theirs, obscured as it was.

Someone that lived in the shadows as Bruce did, someone who made it a home for themselves.

Bruce needed to find out who they were.

Now suddenly, Bruce has an actual reason to go to Gordan.

You rip off the latex body suit that enabled you to glide through the air, and shove your face into a navy hoodie in the backseat of your car parked outside the GCPD parking lot. It wasn’t safe but you had no choice, anonymity wasn’t pretty, and it sure isn’t easy.

But what you had found tonight, trailing after those marked vans that drove down the streets of Gotham like they fucking owned the place, was too sensitive to hold onto any longer than you had to.

Your eyes strain and survey the dark city streets filled with drop heads stumbling around and the thugs that fucked with them, for that same marked van charging towards you. You knew they wouldn’t dare come within the vicinity of the police department, and most importantly, you were smart enough to not leave even a hint of a trail.

It was irrational, but you knew enough of this life to know not to bet on rationality to keep you alive. You have to force yourself to shake it off before slamming the car door behind you and marching towards Gordan's office.

Officers decked out in uniform, glance at you twice before recognition fills their features, barking out hushed hellos and waves of acknowledgement towards you with confused faces as you walk through the department walls. You couldn’t blame them, your dark makeup had smudged from the humid air of rainfall and fog, and the incessant itch of your eye didn’t make it any better, even your cover outfit was washed in a deep midnight black.

They were used to seeing you in bright colours and skirts every time you met with Gordan to transfer any knowledge you had gathered the night before during your vigilance. Usually, you would wait until the next morning, when the mask of your pedestrian outfit and a sunshine smile would keep any questioning looks from the Officers around you at bay. To them, you were just a friend of Gordan who happened to actually like the last few pieces of Old Gotham.

It wasn’t like you were putting on a facade, despite the incriminating outfit you wore now, you loved the colour as much as a child loves colouring outside the lines, your home itself was true to that. A true reflection of the warmth and sunshine you radiated, filled with potted plants hanging from ceilings and in corners, dyed pane windows that reflected warm hues of orange and yellow when the sun set over your studio apartment.

But that didn't mean you would let crime syndicates tear through your home, and this couldn’t wait until the next morning, no, no it was too personal, and oh how you loved mixing pleasure and business.

You couldn’t wait until you got their jaws crushed beneath your boot, watch their blood run through the city streets until it washed away all the crime, and the filth was clean.

You had a special hatred for people who exploited children, using them as a cover to transport drugs and arms had motivated you enough to spend the entire 3 nights straight documenting their every move, where their vans lead to and from when they would start their daily route of drug trafficking. It was imprinted into your brain, an obsession you would have to pretend was for the good of peace to Gordon, and not for your own twisted vengeance.

You don’t knock as you charge through the office doors of Gordon's chief floor, your connection to Gotham City’s Police commissioner gives you free clearance of the department, and your baked honey biscuits were good enough to bribe even the stone-cold assistant parked outside Gordan's office anyway.

You shut the door with an even loud ruckus, causing Gordan to sigh as he rummaged through papers stained with smoke scattered across his desk.

“Now what do I owe the pleasure of having Ms Sunshine in my office this goddamn late in the night?” Gordan says, not even having to look up to know it’s your loud boots against the hallway floors.

“Gordan” You reply, marching towards his desk until you are standing across from him.

“Yes?” Gordan replies, still skimming through the backlog of case files and police reports that seemed to double every night.

“Gordan.” You reply again, this time with an edge of urgency in your tone, and it’s sharp enough to cause Gordan to flicker his focus towards you.

“Those vans I was telling you about? The ones I’ve been trailing since August? I’ve finally found something, the cold must have loosened them up a bit because they got pretty fucking lazy” You start before Gordan cuts you off with a half-hearted sigh.

“You’ve been on them for months now Sunny, every bit of information you’ve squeezed out of them has led us to dead ends. Every time we’ve found a trail to their hideouts it’s packed up and shut down by the time we arrive.” Gordan replies before you shake your head quickly

“No, listen, Gordan, we’ve been looking at it the wrong way” You press on, but Gordan shakes his head

“I can’t afford the manpower Sunny, you know how my men have been feeling lately, the whole department is just holding their breath. Fucking restless, you damn near scared me marching in like that”.

You grit your teeth as you mutter under your breath, Gordan wasn’t listening to you, you didn’t need his men, they were all cowardly corrupt assholes on a power trip anyway. You just needed him, and he wasn’t listening.

“Sometimes you won’t always get to win every battle alright? It doesn’t work that way for us, you gotta save it for the big ones, the ones that are so bad you can’t even see them yet. You start putting your heart into it like you're doing right now? You’re gonna lose yourself along the way”

“They’re using fucking kids Gordan” You bark out when he begins another speech, you can’t help it. Gordans acting as if this is some small drug bust in a crack house. It’s way bigger than that, more sinister, it always is.

Gordan looks towards you wide-eyed, eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to talk before closing it again.

You see that as a guide to continue,

“We’ve been seein’ those vans' as transporting the drugs through the cover of the orphanage, but they’re only using it to get to the warehouse. We can never find the drugs on them because it never was, they’re using the goddamn kids to traffick it, Gordan, fucking middle schoolers”.

“Jesus Christ”

“Okay, alright-uh” Gordon mutters under his breath as he gathers the paperwork strewn in front of him. He reaches into an unmarked drawer, pulls out a white card, and scribbles a mix of numbers onto it you had never seen before.

“Take this-” Gordon begins, motioning to hand you the card before you shake your head

“Gordan-”

“Take this, and meet me tomorrow, please” Gordon pleads, looking up at you, you wait a bit before nodding and taking the card from his palm.

“Come at the same time, but maybe next time you come barging in you at least change first” Gordon groans, knowing the litany of questions he was bound to get hounded for the second you left.

You roll your eyes, “I did” You mutter under your breath before saying Gordan's name again

“Thank you, Gordon, seriously, you're the only hope I have left in Gotham you know, the only one who actually cares what happens to this goddamn city,” You say

“I’m sure that’ll change soon Sunny” Gordan hides a smile, nodding towards you, before you leave his office quickly. You are too absorbed with the hidden message Gordan had said just before you left, to notice Gordans secretary staring into your back, what did he mean?

You ruminate over it as you pass the officers and down the precinct stairs, piling into your car and driving through backlit streets illuminated by just the moon in the sky and the sound of bats.

The visions of the cries of children fill your nights and leave you restless in the morning. You know you shouldn't, but you spend the break of dawn surveying the barren city streets for any sign of their presence, and when your obsession leaves you coming up empty you pull over and step out into the harbour bay.

You stare off into the Miller manor, watching the violent waves of the river crash into each other. Some people had an unrelenting fear of the ocean, of what may lay in its depths, but you had grown to fall in love with its beauty.

It was simple in its destruction, washing away the dirt and filth of the world. You had wished to escape in it, swim down to the bottom where you would lay for eternity, let the waves crash into you and take you away from it all.

You spent the entire morning standing there, blinking back hot tears and the brick that formed in your throat when you began to think too much of what you had lost.

You went home, for the first time since yesterday, and slept until you forgot.

-- -

Decked out in a light-coloured skirt and your face free from the dark black eyeshadow streaming down your face, you marched into the police department once again.

This time the officers greeted you with a genuine smile, seeming to forget about the events of yesterday, and were even more elated when you uncovered the Tupperware filled with the cookies you had made. You figured food would make them forget about it all but it seemed Gordan had beat you to it.

Opening the door to Gordan's office, you can't help but let out a chuckle when you see the commissioner in the same position you had stormed into last night. Gordon perks up at the noise, rolling his eyes before collecting the papers into a neat file and walking towards you.

Gordan begins to say something before a loud commotion muffled his reply, you reach for your gun fitted into the holster on your waist, and shift your body to point it towards the door of Gordan’s office.

It begins to shake as the loud sound of metal on wood gets increasingly closer and you can't decipher it until it stops at the front of Gordans office to understand what it is.

Footsteps.

Your eyes catch the door handle and begin to turn slowly, and you take a tentative step closer to the door, forming into a defensive stance with your gun pointed straight ahead and your finger dangerously close to the trigger.

The door opens much like it had before, with a loud bang, and you aim your gun towards the darkness that follows.

“Wait!” Gordon screams towards you, but you don't dare to take your eyes off the dark figure missing your perfect shots. There is a release of compartments before the figure uncovers itself, and there he is, in all his beautiful and dark glory:

Batman.

Batman’s POV

“What the hell Gordon?” You murmur, the glow of the table lamp illuminates your features, highlighting every dip and curve and line and Bruce can’t help but stare.

“Listen, please put your gun down Sunny, I invited him alright? Because there is no one in this precinct who can help you half as much as he could'' Gordon says, and Bruce catches your scrutinising gaze that seems to penetrate him through his cowl.

He raises his eyebrows as if testing the waters to see if you'll really do it, but you sheath your gun back into the holster hidden under that patterned skirt that's got Bruce thinking thoughts he shouldn’t.

“Uh, I think this conversation is better equipped somewhere more..discrete. Follow me” Gordon coughs, before opening the office doors. Bruce follows the dark patterned shirt of Gordon back from a short distance, you by his side, the heat emanating from you causes Bruce to step further away.

Bruce moves like he knows the ins and outs of the building, his shoulders tense, and his eyes always searching, but his body moves fluidly through the halls like muscle memory etched into him and you can't stop staring. Bruce catches your eyes once, his cobalt blues stare right back at you with no hesitation, a flicker of recognition flashes over his eyes and Bruce begins to piece the face that's got his heart stopping and his hands reaching all at once.

You shift your eyes to the wainscotting lining the walls of the precinct, and Bruce's chest burns with a desperate need to see you seeing him. Bruce didn't know what overcame him, it seemed like the fear of the dark was replaced with the fear of never seeing you again. Bruce didn't even know your name, just Sunny. Bruce wanted to see how it would taste on his tongue, speaking your name and having your reply.

“You sure you know your way ‘round this building Gordan?” You sigh, as it seemed you both were through endless hallways

“We’re here” Gordon replies, before pushing a lever door that opens into the precinct rooftop.

Bruce steps out into the rooftop courtyard, the cold chill of the night breeze does nothing to the burning hot in his stomach, but your visibility shivers and Bruce has to stop himself from covering you with his own damn cape.

Gordan passes you his worn-out leather jacket and you take it gingerly before he nods to Bruce in understanding moving to the far end of the roof.

You step towards the edge of the roof, knuckles turning white as you grip the handrail and Bruce watches you gaze out into the sky-scraping towers of Gotham City, glistening under the pale moonlit sky.

“It doesn't look so bad from up here you know?” You murmur, and Bruce's eyes flicker from the city streets below to your gaze.

Bruce shakes his head “No, no it doesn't”

“But then, doesn't everything get uglier up close?” You continue, your gaze flickering back to the city skyline

“No, not everything” Bruce replies in a whisper, but it's loud enough to hear and you shift your gaze back to Bruce

“You were there, weren't you?” Bruce says, the recognition hit him the second you stared off into the city, that same dip in the cheek, that same mark on your jaw. You were sheathed in the cover of the warehouse darkness then, and adorned an outfit akin to what Bruce was wearing now, but it was you the entire time.

“I suppose it was, but how were you there, Batman?” You reply, eyes flickering down to Bruce's tall stature,

“Been trailing them for weeks, but every single thread of their trail-” Bruce says

“Is a loose end” You murmur, and Bruce nods in agreement.

“I know it may look like it isn't, but I've been after them for even longer, and it’s like this has become my entire life now you know? If they can’t be stopped, if I can't stop them then’”

“What’s the point” Bruce replies

You nod thoughtfully, it was why you had barely slept in the last month, barely ate, this vengeance, this thirst for justice, it consumed you. And now it seemed you had met someone who was consumed by it too.

“How did this” You gesture between Bruce and Gordan “alliance even form” You question, it didn't really hit you then but this was the known vigilante that had been plastered on the front of newspapers across Gotham, now standing, comfortably on GCPD’s rooftop.

Bruce hides a chuckle, shaking his head “It’s a long story, but you see that light projector there” Bruce gestures his chin to the signal hidden near the edge of the rooftop, tilted to the sky.

“It’s a distress signal, carved out in a bat wing, and whenever Gordan turns it on, I always come, no matter what”. Bruce says

“I’m not foolish, these people we're both after, aren't the normal crooks and pickpocketing gangs, and together we can put an end to all of this, and I know you I haven’t made the best defence compared to the hundreds of newspapers calling for my head, but I care, I care about Gotham-

“I know, Batman” You stop Bruce mid-way through his erratic tangent, reigning him back in with that heavenly voice of yours.

“Bruce” He replies, after a heated silence, and a flash of recognition fills you.

How could you not have pieced it before? You don’t know if Bruce sees the surprise in your eyes but it dissolves right back into the space between you.

“Bruce” You nod, his name taste sweet on you tongue and it has him yearning to hear it again.

“I thought I would be scared if I ever came face to face with Batman, but, all I feel, all I really feel is understanding. I know you, Bruce, I know you because I see myself in you. This long life of fighting, of putting your everything in your purpose. It gives you a reason to survive in this hellscape, but it also fucking destroys you.” You say, eyes searching Bruce’s .

“How did you get into this life?” Bruce says

“I know from this darn skirt that is yellow of all things it may not look like it but I’ve been fighting the plague of crime and greed that had taken over this city for years”

“First with the power of books that could lead me to become something those rich fucks needed and then with my fists after this city took something from me it had no right to. And honestly? I’m surprised I hadn’t run into you sooner”

“Don't say sorry because I’ve hated that word ever since it happened” You reply

Bruce nods, his grip on the rooftop rial tightening as he stares off into the city skyline, Bruce wore his loss like a tattoo imprinted on his forehead, anyone could see what the violence of this city had done to him without having to read the hundreds of newspapers detailing his parent's gruesome death.

But you, at first glance seemed like a damn tourist in this city, unfazed by the crime and death that seems suffocating to Bruce, radiating a kind of glow and kindness Bruce had long forgotten exists.

“And for the record, I don’t read the newspaper” You reply, causing Bruce to let out a chuckle

“Oh yeah? You’re too prestigious for ink on paper?” Bruce replies

“No, not really, I just like to get my news first hand, as an observer. My uniform may not be as prestigious as yours, but it gets the job done and is a hell of a lot more discreet” You reply, a smile pulling at your cheek.

“Discreet is definitely the word to call it, couldn't even decipher your face in a damn near million-dollar computer” Bruce replies

You look at him in confusion, but he simply shrugs in response and before you can let out a reply, Gordon comes back into view from whatever dark corner he had ventured to.

“Now that you have acquainted yourselves, why don't we find a way to take those sick fuckers down” Gordan replies, and Bruce catches the delighted expression that forms over your features. You nod enthusiastically towards Gordon's words, interjecting pieces of information that even Bruce himself had not acquired. Bruce watches you in your element, formulating a plan with a million other plans B’s, that same unstoppable desire to protect this city that drives Bruce to put on that cape each day, and it’s like Bruce is falling in love.

“So we’ll hit them from the orphanage rather than from it, hopefully, their lack of diligence continues in our favour, Batsy, you okay?” You reply, eyeing him in worry as Bruce stares back with a glazed expression before snapping back at the sound of your nickname.

“Batsy? Now that's a good one” Gordon chuckles

Batman eyes you in question to which you reply with a shrug

“Batman is too long, and I figured if you're gonna be callin’ me Sunny, I’ve got to give you a nickname too, right?” You justify, and Bruce fails to hide the smile that erupts across his face at the mention of him calling you Sunny.

“He’s smiling Gordan!” I made Batman smile!” You giggle, shaking Gordan's shoulders, and if Bruce could he would bottle that sound and keep it forever.

“That's definitely a first, isn't it Batsy” Gordon replies, and Bruce simply shakes his head

“Can we get back to what’s important here?” Bruce replies, but the smile in his voice is clear as ever, and you don’t know why but it fills you with a burst of joy in a place that had remained empty ever since your sister had left.

“Mhm” You reply, and Gordan shares a knowing look towards Bruce as if to say “I’ve found you out”, and for some strange reason Bruce wants him to, he wants the entire world to know he's completely enamoured and enthralled by you the second he stepped into Gordan's office.

“Alright, whilst you both were arguing over costumes, I got a distress alert from one of the squad cars surveying the area near the orphanage. One of the vans seems to be making some sort of detour, we’ve got to hit them now, I don't know when they will be this unprotected” Gordon replies.

“I’ve got a car waiting for me, so Sunny, you’ll ride with Batsy” Gordon replies, and Bruce doesn't have a hard time seeing the smile hidden behind Gordan's stern face.

Bruce bristles at the mention of having you so close to him in such an enclosed space, fearing you would protest out of fear of him and all the other insecurities Bruce had burdened. But you nod and smile towards him, and it's like every doubt, every worry is dissipated, and every anxious thought sounds so stupid because nothing else matters but you.

And so, just like moments before Bruce walks side by side with you down the endless corridors of the Gotham Police precinct, but now, with the heart scorching desire to follow you down a hundred endless corridors, to dampen the burn in his chest with your silken soft voice.

Bruce didn't believe in prophecies, or soulmates that transcended time and space, but right now it was as if you both were meant to be. A sacred bond that was carved into stone long before Bruce had started to lose himself in his own purpose, long before the fear of darkness had seized him all those years ago.

Bruce had thought you made a home in the darkness within you, but it was so different now. You embraced this darkness, this thirst like a mother embracing a child, carved it into you like a relic, until it transformed within you to become the light Bruce had been blinding himself to.

And Bruce pleaded for the first time, he begged to the midnight sky for the first time since he cried out for God to will the loss of his parents to be erased. Bruce was left with the bitter taste of a silent sky then, but now he’s on his knees, begging that you would make a home for him too.

Bruce wanted to take the darkness you carried, wanted to uncover it from your skin and bones until all that was left was the illuminating glow Bruce knew he would ruin. But he didn't care, for the second first time today, Bruce wanted to be selfish, and have you all to himself.

Wanted to feel your touch hold him until the burn of your absence was stamped away, wanted you to uncover his cowl and run your fingers through his hair, wanted to curl into your body and under your skin at night, wanted everything.

Bruce wanted it all.

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