#christianbalefanatic

[christianbalefanatic]

Christian Bale attends the premiere of Velvet Goldmine at the Village East Cinema in New York, New York (October 26, 1998)

Re: Christian Bale as Arthur Stuart in Velvet Goldmine (1998) dir. Todd Haynes

#icon #movies #celeb #hollywood #drama #film #actor #christian bale #christianbalefanatic gif #New York new york #new york premiere #velvet goldmine #1998 #arthur stuart #todd Haynes #1990s #1990s actors #1990s icons #1990s hollywood #1990s films #1990s movies #1990s movie premieres #christianbalefanatic #christianbalefanatic edit

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Thirteen

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warnings: Panic attack symptoms. Angst. Everyone’s fucked up. Well, almost everyone.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, claudiahxrdy , @christianbalefanatic, @librarianafterdark​,  @rosegxoxo​, @lilizia​, @t0uch-starved-h0e​, @barikawho​

Author’s Note: I apologize for the long wait. 

Previous

Never in a million years did Demetria ever think she would wind up in this situation.

She stared at the suitcase, rubbing her chest and silently begging her body to give her a break tonight. She cursed herself for not locking Bruce out of his own room and instead choosing one of the guest rooms. 

A million different scenarios played in her head. All contained the same concerns, Bruce, her mom and brother’s safety, and her own safety. 

He should’ve ran after her and promised her everything was ok even though she knew it wouldn’t be. But he didn’t. He left her and her overwhelmed state to fend for themselves. 

“Care for some company?” 

Demetria turned her head to see Rachel poking her head in, a sympathetic smile on her face. She nodded her head as the brunette closed the door behind her. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Demetria snorted. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I’ve got all night.” She eyed the suitcase. “I don’t know your timeline though.” 

“A moment of weakness. No matter how many times I try, I can’t seem to go through with it.” She glanced up at Rachel. “You’re the sane one in this situation. What should I do?” 

Rachel cracked a tiny smile. “What do you want to do?” 

“I want him to realize he’s not doing anyone any favors by revealing himself, but you and I both know he’s not going to listen either one of us.” 

“He’s stubborn that way.” 

Demetria eyed her engagement ring, twisting it. “Makes me question a lot of things.” 

“Such as?” 

Tears began to pool in Demetria’s eyes as she realized what it was she was about to say. It was the question that plagued her mind throughout their relationship and into their engagement, but had continuously pushed back as far as she could. 

“Why ask me to marry him?” she finally said. 

Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “There’s something you need to know. Long before you came, Bruce wanted him and I to be together.”

Demetria couldn’t move. A calm confession had managed to knock the absolute shit out of her.

“I told him I couldn’t because of Batman, but that when the city no longer needed him that maybe we could,” Rachel continued. 

Demetria blinked and somewhere in the silence that fell between the two women, realized it was her turn to say something and that Rachel had been waiting on baited breath for some sort of reaction. 

So, she started with a deep breath. “Wow, ok. This…explains a lot.” She glanced up. “I’m not mad. Not that I would have any right to be. I just…I’m processing a lot of information right now and I...” 

Maybe this why Bruce went after her. She was Harvey’s best friend and he must’ve assumed something romantic was going on. Maybe that was why he went to lengths to keep their relationship quiet. Maybe he wanted to show-

“Its been over since he met you,” Rachel said. “After that lunch, he asked me about you. I told him you were off limits. I said that if he messed with you, Harvey would ruin him. That’s how he figured out you were at Harvey’s fundraiser. He came for you.” 

She ran her hand through her hair. “How do I not know he wasn’t with me to try to-.” 

“I told him I was in love with Harvey and that nothing was gonna change my mind and that if that was a problem, he needed to deal with it alone without hurting you.” She paused, smiling a bit. “Then he said he was outside your apartment, making sure you were ok. I realized he took time out of his Batman patrol to check in on you. He also said that if I ever hurt you he’d let me kill him myself.” 

A tiny smile played out on Demetria’s lips. “Time to make good on your promise then,” she said, motioning to the door. 

“He loves you so much that losing you scares him an when he’s scared, he pushes away,” Rachel assured. “He knows you can do better. But I know you’re exactly what he needs.” 

Demetria opened her mouth when Rachel cut her off again. “If he goes through with it, I will take care of you and your family’s protection. I know a lot of people who owe me favors. Just promise me you won’t leave him. You’re his one hope for a normal life.” 

Demetria shut her eyes, letting the tears fall. “Ok.” 

Rachel put a gentle hand on Demetria’s forearm. “Go to him, ok?” 

She went to leave when Demetria said, “Rachel?”

The brunette turned to see Demetria smiling at her. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her. “If Harvey hurts you, just know I’ll murder him.” 

Rachel laughed. “I’ll hold to you it.” 

======================================================

After wiping her tears, Demetria made her way to their bedroom where Bruce stood, looking out the window. 

The sound of the door closing behind her grabbed his attention. He turned to her, their eyes meeting for a moment before she made her way to her nightstand. 

Her throat started locking in when she grabbed her medicine and opened the cap. She popped the pill in her mouth and made her way to the bathroom, filling up a crystal glass with water from the sink and then taking a large sip. 

Setting the glass back down, she closed the bathroom door and went back to her nightstand where she pulled out her notebook and a pen. 

“Ok, I need you to tell me what areas need to be cleared out in this apartment so Alfred and I can take care of it,” she said. 

Bruce just stared at her. Demetria exhaled softly. “Babe, we have so many goddamn rooms and only so little time so please, for once tonight, help me out here.” 

“What’re you doing?” he asked. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She looked down at the notebook. “Ok, so guest room four is clear. I know that after-.” 

Bruce then took the notebook and pen from her, throwing it off to the side. He gently grabbed her forearms. “I need you to leave in the morning.” 

“Bruce-.” 

“I don’t want you here while this goes down.” 

She tilted her head, glaring at him. “So now I’m being considered?” 

His face softened. “What?”

“Why didn’t you consider me in this decision?”

“I told you I did.”

“Don’t lie to me. Why didn’t you consider me in this decision?”

“Demetria…”

“You considered what you were gonna do with me. What you didn’t consider is how this would impact me.”

“Rachel knows people who are gonna protect you.”

“Lawyers can protect in a court. What about outside of that?”

She took another step. “What about my mom and my brother? You don’t think people are gonna come after them?”

The silence was deafening.

“There are a lot of people who want to kill you for what you’ve done,” she went on. “A handful of those people think that killing you won’t be enough and that’s when they’ll come after everyone associated with you.”

“You don’t think I didn’t think about that?” Bruce retorted. “You don’t think that haunts me?” 

“I don’t because you won’t talk to me!” she told him. “You just keep pushing me away.”

She wiped the tears away. “You want to make this easy on me? Tell me you don’t love me. Say it and I’ll go. I’ll leave and when I’m asked why, I’ll tell them you said it.” 

Bruce’s blank expression made her wonder if he was contemplating. She pulled her lips back, nodding her head. “Go ahead. Say it. Say it.”

Bruce took a step forward to her. She didn’t move. “Say it, Bruce.” 

He held her face in his hands as she closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself to lose him, her whole heart. The world, the future she had romanticized because of him, ready to leave in flash. 

“I love you, Demetria.” 

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman #bruce wayne imagine #Christian Bale #christian bale x reader #batman x reader #batman imagine #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #batman #batman fanfiction #the joker

[minaofmayhem]

IMAGINE #50 - Better than reading

Wow, my 50th imagine, I still can’t believe it! ❤️ Here we go with a cute but smutty moment with Christian in a library, thanks for asking! Enjoy @christianbalefanatic and thanks for asking ! 😍

Summary : You work at the public library. Being a great bookworm, your work is very important to you. The problem is that it sometimes takes up a lot of your time. Christian, your boyfriend, decides to surprise you…

Pairing : Christian Bale x Reader

Warnings : fluff, strong langage, smut and unprotected sex 🔥

Tag list : @kittenlittle24​ ; @christianbalefanatic​

"Christian, where are you taking me?" you say as you follow him as best you can, trotting between the shelves covered in books. 

"Follow me, you'll see," Christian replies as he continues on his way to the library's reserve. But what is he up to? 

These places are not unknown to you since you have been working here for two years now. Two wonderful years of organizing, filing and sharing your passion for books and reading. A job that, it is true, takes a lot of your time. It must also be said that Mrs. Clarence, the boss, imposed particularly strict working hours, to the great displeasure of Christian, your boyfriend, who wanted to spend more time with you.

And obviously, to counter this problem, he had found a solution. He had suddenly shown up ten minutes before, when you were supposed to be putting away the newly arrived books. You thought it was a simple visit to see you, but it was clear that he had other plans...

The race stopped at the doorway to the storeroom. Christian opens the door and you rush inside together. He stands against the door for a moment, watching for any sound that would indicate another staff member had followed you. 

"If you wanted a particular book, all you had to do was ask the librarian." You hear Christian chuckle. Certain that you are finally alone, he closes the lock and turns back to you.

"What if it's not a book I want, but the librarian?". His voice suddenly becomes suave and his eyes darken. You swallow, finally understanding what he has in mind.  

"What's going on sweetheart?", Christian steps forward, caressing your cheek gently. 

"Christian, we can't do this here!", you enjoy the touch of his finger on your skin but you can only resist. "If anyone hears us or if Mrs. Clarence catches us, I..."

"Shh...", he puts a finger to your lips before leaning in to whisper to you. "Everyone else is busy, it's just you and me...so let's make this good and quick"

A shiver of pleasure runs through you as Christian pushes you against the shelf behind you. You swallow again, feeling the desire gradually rise in you. Christian slides his head into your neck to place several sensual kisses while his hands continue to caress your arms, up and down.

"Chris..." you moan, wanting to say his name, but unable to continue as you feel his tongue titillate your earlobe, your sensitive spot.

"Relax my darling...", he whispers against your skin, his breath triggering a new wave of shivers. 

"But...what if...what if someone...finds out that...", you again don't have time to finish your sentence. Christian intensifies his kisses that go lower and lower, down to the birth of your chest. He then lifts his head, flashing a naughty smile on his handsome face.

"This will only get more exciting." And without warning, he reaches down to pull up the sides of your dress to reach your panties. Defeated, you bite your lip, unable to resist longer to this torture. Each time, Christian was able to make you flinch just by his caresses and his kisses. With a glance, you look at the door, hoping with all your heart that nobody will have the idea to come to rush in the reserve at this moment. Normally, this room was only accessible for the staff and for the moment, Mrs. Clarence was absent, at least until closing time. That gave you some time. 

"Oh," another moan escapes your lips as you feel Christian's fingers touch the tips of your labia, searching for your clit. Lost in thought, you hadn't even realized he'd already removed your panties. To make it easier, Christian takes your leg and rests your calf on his shoulder, giving him better access to your privacy. To keep from falling, you grab one of the boards from the shelf behind you. 

"Mmh...I know one who's more than happy to see me," he says, still looking naughty, feeling with his fingers how ready you are for him. His fingers caress your lips, back and forth, and it's torture. Your head tilts back, bumping into another board. 

"Oh yeah..." your fingers slip into Christian's hair as you feel him replace his fingers with his tongue. "Oh yeah...like that." Christian is busy trying to give you as much pleasure as possible, he knows he doesn't have much time. Your fingers, clinging to the board, are slowly starting to give way as well, and it's getting harder and harder to stand. 

"Chris...baby...", you whisper as best you can between two moans, trying to get his attention. 

Christian finishes by giving you one last lick before pulling away. He seems to understand your message because he puts your leg back on the ground, allowing you to regain your balance. He stands up to be at your level and finally captures your lips for a sweet kiss. Taking advantage of this moment, you move your hands down to the zipper of his pants, already feeling the huge bulge. 

"I think...you are also very happy to see me," you say as you tease against his lips, continuing to kiss him more and more sensually. Christian giggles, grabbing your face to intensify your kiss. Skillfully and without looking, you undo the button on his pants and let them slide to his feet. And there, you notice with surprise, that he is not wearing underwear! You laugh, amused by this funny situation. Christian detaches himself, not understanding why you start to laugh. He suddenly realizes the reason.

"I was in too much of a hurry to come and see you, I forgot to put on underpants". You both laugh before regaining your seriousness. Your hands automatically go to his already hard member. First some caresses, at the base until the end, before making more precise movements. Christian moans under your caresses but suddenly, he stops you in your momentum.  

"We don't have much time unfortunately...but let's save it for tonight, what do you say?", for only answer you address him a naughty smile, in a hurry to be already tonight to show him all the extent of your talent. Christian takes your face in his hands and kisses you tenderly one last time before scanning the room in search of an ideal place. He finally finds it and takes your hand to lead you to a more secluded corner, away from the door. 

"I can't hold on much longer...I want you". 

"Then take me", you answer, determined to satisfy the burning desire that has been burning you since he brought you here. Everything you feared when you entered seems to have finally disappeared.  

"Bend over", with his hand, he helps you to position yourself against other shelves, bigger and more solid. Both of your hands grab two boards at the same height while you place your right foot on the second board from the bottom, making it easier to get in. Christian moves closer, lifting your dress to your hips. He positions himself behind you too, taking her member in his hand. He also takes the opportunity to spank your asscheek, which makes you moan.

"I can't take it anymore Christian...", you moan, checking one last time that you are well hung. He then strokes his glans against your entrance and between your wet lips. 

"Oh yes," he leans in to whisper in the hollow of your ear.

"Please...I want you...now," Christian slides his member in again to torture you before slowly entering you, making sure not to hurt you. This position is not unfamiliar to you but he is always careful and gentle.  He comes out to enter once more, checking to make sure you're ready enough. 

"God...you're so tight," he groans as he feels a sensation of pleasure wash over him. His words and caresses are enough to turn you on more and more. 

"Go ahead baby..." you scream in pleasure, hoping no one heard you. You join a movement of pelvis to your words to encourage Christian to start his cadence. Getting the message, he puts his hands on your hips and starts to move, first slowly and then faster, remembering that unfortunately you only have a few minutes to enjoy this moment. 

"Oh yes...go on...", your breathing is jerky and you hold on as best you can to the shelf but the sensations you feel are so pleasant that it is hard to hold on. 

"You like that, don't you..." he groans too, admiring your body from this angle. He places one of his feet back, causing him to push further inside you. A scream escapes you, more audible than the others, and Christian puts his hand over your mouth to keep it quiet. The sensations you feel increase tenfold, and you begin to feel that familiar, pleasurable sensation come to life in the pit of your stomach.

"Keep going...I'll soon..."

"Cum for me honey, go ahead, let it out," Christian says, almost out of breath and determined to give you maximum pleasure. Your face bows, your forehead butting against the shelf board and you bite your lip violently to remain discreet. 

"Yes...Yes...", you moan more and more, feeling that vague sensation start to get clearer and clearer until it produces an explosion of extraordinary sensations. Your legs tremble and it becomes difficult for you not to fall under the effect of this orgasm.

"That's it baby...cum for me," Christian says as he speeds up his strokes to give you maximum pleasure until the end. You still feel that pulse spreading for a few moments before it disappears but leaving a feeling of well-being spreading through your veins. Satisfied and proud, Christian continues his movements until he reaches his own deliverance in a last blow, adding a deep and guttural moan. 

"God..." he cries out as he regains his senses. Slowly, he pulls back, also helping you back to a normal position. 

"Oh my god...", your legs hurt a little but it was worth it. Christian grabs you by the arm to take you in his arms, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"I love you you know," you whisper against the skin of his chest, dropping a kiss in turn.

"I love you too." You stay in each other's arms for a moment, enjoying this moment of well-being and love.

"(X/Y)! Where are you?", Mrs. Clarence's shrill, screeching voice is suddenly heard in the hallway, behind the storeroom door.

"Shit...my boss!", you exclaim silently, immediately pulling your dress down. Still as quietly as possible, you gesture to Christian that it is past time for him to put his clothes back on and especially to stay hidden. 

"(X/Y)!", the voice rings out once again. Advancing cautiously between the shelves, you recover your small panties in the passage and slip them on at full speed. You also redo your hair, hoping that your little escapade will go unnoticed, before opening the door, in a last breath.

"Yes Mrs. Clarence." 

"Ah here you are at last. What were you doing in the storeroom?"

"Oh, I...I was looking for a book but...I couldn't find it," you really hope that lie will pass. Mrs. Clarence is not the type to be fooled. She looks at you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"Is everything okay? Are your cheeks all red?" she adds, continuing to look at you warily. It's impossible not to blush even more at such a remark.

"Oh that's nothing, I had to move some boxes that were particularly heavy...". 

"Very well," she said after a few more seconds of very uncomfortable silence. "Hurry up, a student needs some information". And with that, she leaves again in the library. Relieved, you let out a deep relief. Behind you, Christian gently opens the door, having made sure that the way was clear. 

"We got lucky," you murmur as you urge him out of the storeroom. 

"Quick, go through the emergency door before she sees you." Christian laughs, with an amused look, before placing a kiss on your cheek. 

"See you later my pretty librarian...Be ready for round two".

#Christian Bale #christian bale imagine #christian bale x reader #imagine50

[allysunny]

Are you still taking bale requests - particularly bruce wayne? Let me know - I might have a couple ideas - christianbalefanatic

Hello!!!!

I'm currently taking requests for my 200 Followers Event! If you want to, you can just hop over there and request something from the lists.

If not, then that's okay! My regular requests are ALSO open, but please keep in mind that I'm currently prioritising the Event requests, since, well, the event is taking place. But I will always answer every request I have, even if it takes a bit of time! Just that at the moment, I'm tending to my Event ones. Hope that helps!

#༊*·˚ allysunny's antics #bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne x reader

[gravitykills]

cant post anything w/o christianbalefanatic stealing the entire post. 😐 altho they changed the caption to have capitals so like basically saying im illiterate

#if it gets more notes than mine ill kill myself

[kiernanshayemckay]

Christian Bale as John Preston in Equilibrium (2002) dir. Kurt Wimmer (my edit)

#my edit #christianbalefanatic #hollywood #icon #celeb #actor #christianbalefanatic edit #ksmckay edit #young christian bale #christian bale #equilibrium #John Preston #kurt wimmer #2002 #early 2000s #2000s actors #2000s hollywood #2000s movies #2000s icons #2000s films #2000s

[spilledkauffie]

Dark Knight and Deep Bruises

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Female!Reader Word Count: 3.3k T/W: FLUFF, mentions/descriptions of bruises, cuts + injuries A/N: Bruce Wayne's finacée was captured by one of Gotham's crime lords, hoping that they'd get some info out of her about the Batman because she works closely with the Gotham Police; Bruce sets out a manhunt for your captor and a search & rescue for you, but he didn’t expected you to turn up on your own.

for anon ❤︎ (I made reader a fiancée, I hope that was okay)

Bruce Wayne taglist // @christianbalefanatic

The Wayne manor’s lights hadn’t gone out, it had been almost a week since they were last turned off, and all of Gotham knew why. Bruce Wayne’s fiancée was missing, captured last week, allegedly right off the streets in mid-day by a notorious crime lord. The city was blaming it on the lack of security, but Bruce was blaming himself, knowing they only struck when Batman wasn’t on the prowl. What was more odd was that there was no warrant, it would have put Bruce’s mind at ease if he knew all they wanted was an exorbitant amount of money from him, and you were safe, but that wasn’t the case. There were no announcements, sightings, threat videos, or warrants, for nearly a week…

“They couldn’t have vanished into thin air,” Bruce said agitated as the police came back with their nightly report of nothing, “she has to be somewhere.”

“We’re trying our best Mr. Wayne,” one officer assured him, as they gave a sympathetic nod, before leaving the foyer and closing the front door behind them.

Bruce watched as the cars pulled away, crossing an arm over his chest, he put a hand to his forehead rubbing tensely. He replayed the day you were captured over again in his head, as he did every few hours; you had told him you were going into the city, he offered to go with you, but you said it was a surprise for the wedding. Knowing you were going alone, he offered for Alfred to take you, that was when you reminded him he needed Alfred to take him to a business meeting. So, Bruce gave you theLamborghini keys, knowing it was your favourite… It was then that Alfred entered the room, informing him that the hospitals hadn’t had any new patients that matched your description.

“How could I let this happen, Alfred?” Bruce asked, voice near a whisper as he could barely deal his own guilt.

“Sir, this is not your fault,” Alfred came closer yet, missing you greatly. He was distressed over your capture, but the last thing he wanted was for Bruce to blame himself further, when it was the city's fault in his eyes, “why wouldn’t someone say something if they saw a young lady being abducted? The city failed you.”

“But I failed her,” Bruce finally met Alfred’s gaze, his voice more broken now than angry, “even Batman failed her. I’ve searched everywhere, every night.”

“Sir-” Alfred began, but a very aggressive knock at the door drew both of their gaze towards the front of the foyer. For a moment neither were sure they’d actually heard anything amidst their talking, until it came again.

Bruce rushed to the door, desperately hoping it was good news. What he found was your body, unconscious, lying across the top step. You were in the same clothes you’d worn the day he lost you, only pieces were ripped and torn away, revealing bruises and cuts which were scattered across your body, your shoes were missing, and there was a note, obviously placed in your hand. Taking the note quickly, assuming it might have some information as to your captor or the state you were in all it read was: “she didn’t have what we needed, hope you don’t mind a bruised bride over a blushing one.”

“Alfred!” Bruce yelled in urgency, over his shoulder as he fisted the note in his hand, more preoccupied with picking you up as gently as he could after checking your vital signs.

“Heavens-” Alfred muttered, seeing the state you were in, as Bruce carried you like a bride into the house as gently as he could, your limbs and head hung in a macabre way, but he managed to give you support the very best he could.

“She’s unconscious, I think they drugged her,” Bruce announced, walking into the manor as Alfred locked the front doors, “turn on the maximum security system, have this note scanned for anything and everything,” the note exchanged hands, “I’m taking her to the cave for treatment, try to get something for the pain in her before she wakes up.”

“Yes, Sir,” Alfred nodded, immediately headed to see out his requests.

Bruce hurriedly, but cautiously, made his way down to the cave, the lift couldn’t move fast enough. On the way down, he looked you over, a million thoughts ran through his mind of what could have happened, there was a fresh cut on your forehead; he observed that your head must’ve been pulled backwards with the way the blood path was dried back into your hairline. Your feet were in a terrible state, scrapes on the bottom, toes bruised, and ankles swollen. Your elbows and wrists were in a near similar condition. He noted your nail polish was cracked, remembering how it was only a week ago that you were fanning your fingers out, showing him the colour and how nicely it went with the ring. Glancing to your finger, he saw the ring still around it, the centre diamond cracked.

The moment the lift opened, he found the medical table he was used to lying on while Alfred helped with stitches. Laying you softly onto the surface, he’d barely gotten his arms out from under you when you jolted back to an upright position. Getting off the table, your hands defensively grasped Bruce’s biceps when he tried to keep his arms near you as a barrier so you wouldn’t fall over.

“No!” you squeezed your eyes closed and screamed at the top of your lungs, which wasn’t all that loud, he could tell you’d been screaming for days with how hoarse your voice was, “I don’t know! I don’t know I swear!” Trying to shake yourself away from him, you shook your head violently, so much so that it concerned Bruce that you’d only further injure yourself.

“Hey, hey,” Bruce said gently, but loud enough for you to hear him, “it’s me.”

You took a sharp exhale, freezing all movement as you met his eyes. You looked him over, to make sure it was really him, Your hands still tightly gripping to him, “B-Bruce?” you spoke at a level that sounded like a whisper with your sore throat.

“Yeah,” Bruce nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempted smile, but his eyebrows furrowed; it was hard enough seeing you this way unconscious, he hadn’t even begun to prepare for seeing you this way awake and aware, “it’s me, you’re safe, you’re okay, I got you.”

“Bruce,” you took deep breaths, unblinking as the drugs began to wear off slowly.

Tears instantly pooled in your eyes, a quiver came to your lips as the pain came back, slowly but surely into full force. You felt every ache, sting, bruise, and pulse that shot instantly back into your senses. Squeezing your eyes shut again, this time with eyebrows knitting together out of pain, you let out a desperate whimper of pain. Your body fell back into a limp state, unable to support yourself, as best you could. Practically falling into his arms, you let your head fall against his shoulder. Hearing you cry out of sheer pain, Bruce took immediate action, cradling you again, before setting you on the table.

“I got you,” he repeated, staying close to the table so you wouldn’t have to reach far.

Moving your hands shakily up around his neck, he felt you stop trying to hold yourself up or even in good posture; you put all the weight on top of his shoulders, and he was more than happy to support you. As you turned to nuzzle a little against his neck, he softly touched your back.

“I was so scared-” you started, but cut yourself off with a cry, before continuing, “I thought- I thought they were going to kill me. It hurt-hurts so much!”

Bruce clenched his jaw and wanted to hug you as tight as possible, but he refrained knowing it would only cause you more pain.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again, I promise,” Bruce said, throat tight as he tried to hold back his own choking tears. When you pulled back, he kept his hands at your side. You looked so tired, he was worried you might pass out from the pain, “let’s get you something for the pain, okay?”

Nodding, he left your side only for a brief moment. The tears streamed down your cheek, you silently suffered, somewhat used to the pain having endured it for days previously. Bruce returned with both a drink, pills and a shot. You took the previous quickly, but it was the shot you were most nervous about.

“It’ll help with the internal healing,” Bruce explained when you asked, “hopefully to help you recover quicker, or at least until we get you to a hospital.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

He tried to find the least bruised spot on you, but it was harder than he thought, which only fueled his anger towards your captors. When he found a spot, he asked if you were ready, taking a few deep breaths, you nodded, closing your eyes. Bruce did it as quickly as possible, you pressed your lips together and gave a few whimpers feeling the pain enhance momentarily.

“I know,” Bruce dipped to press his forehead gently against yours, free hand caressing the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking at your jawline, “I know, I’m sorry; it’s almost over.”

You gave a heavy exhale, bringing your hand up to hold his wrist for comfort. The shot was done, and he set the needle aside, bringing his other hand to hold your face softly, as he kissed your forehead.

“We’ve got to get you out of these clothes, I need to treat your cuts and bruises,” he said tenderly, knowing that you didn’t want to do anything at the moment, but it was urgent that he treat them.

Slowly, you shakily reached for the buttons of your blouse, “I’ve got it,” Bruce said, touching your hands to let you know to just relax as best you could, “I got your favourite robe,” he said in the meantime.

Looking over to the folded robes, you stroked it with your fingertips, “always so soft,” you managed, tears falling down onto Bruce’s hands, “I’m sorry,” your voice went hoarse again.

“You don’t need to apologise for anything,” Bruce shook his head, staring hardly at the buttons, knowing that if he met your eyes he might break down too, “if anyone has something to be sorry for-”

“Bruce,” you swallowed, touching his hands, “this wasn’t your fault.”

Looking up, you could tell he was near tears himself, but there was rage, a look you’d seen before, “if I hadn’t let you go alone, none of this would have happened.” “I asked to go alone,” you countered, dropping your hands as he slipped the blouse off you and made a pile on the floor next to him of your clothes, he had no response, but he was still blaming himself. Helping you out of the rest, Bruce wrapped you in the robe, hoping it’d warm up your body temperature.

When the throbbing had stopped coursing all across your body, Bruce got to work on the injuries. They still hurt you, but it was better with the medicine. Seeing a wide cut across your thigh, he decided to start there. Lifting the robe up just on one side, he brought over a kit that had sufficient enough items to help.

“You look tired,” you commented, watching him wipe your skin gingerly enough that you barely felt it.

Smiling to himself he had to chuckle, “you’re worried about me right now?” The silence that came after worried him; looking up he saw your bottom lip quivering as you tried to hold back more tears. Bruce stepped closer, pausing with the wound, “does it still hurt?”

“I was really scared I’d never see you again,” you admit through hiccups of tears.

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Bruce brought you close to him, “I don’t want you worrying about me, okay?” He met your eyes with a soft smile, “you’re here and that’s all that matters to me.” He didn’t feel the need to tell you about any plans of revenge to redeem his value to himself.

Agreeing, you tried to wipe away your own tears, but gave an “ow,” when the salty tears met your open hand cuts and scrapes. Bruce opened his hand waiting for you to place yours in it, when you did, he gave them a close look and then searched the kit for what he was looking for.

“I know you want to know-,” you started.

“Only when you’re ready to talk about it,” Bruce raised his eyebrows tilting his head as he lifted his head, letting you know there was no pressure to talk.

Stooping down so you wouldn’t have to lift your hands, Bruce added a little bit of alcohol to the cloth, “this might hurt,” he advised, you thought you could handle it, but when you felt the sting, you instinctually pulled back a little, “I’m sorry, I know,” he soothingly rubbed your palms, avoiding any areas of pain.

“It’s okay,” you said softly.

“It’s not,” he sighed, “I never should have let you go alone.”

You thought of saying something, but opted to stay quiet. Grabbing a stool, he tended to your feet, as gently as he possibly could, quickly removing his hands when you jolted or whimpered. He kissed the inside of your calf as he applied cream to your ankles, it stung for a moment, but soon felt chilly, in order to stop the swelling from getting any worse. You reached a hand to his hair, and shakily combed through it.

“They wanted to know about Batman,” you said suddenly, placing your hands in your lap.

Bruce immediately looked up, “they- what?”

You sniffled, nodding, “they thought I’d know something about him since- since I sometimes work with the police. They said they’d let me go if I gave them any information I had. But I didn’t tell them anything, I promise, I told them I didn’t know, I’d never met him.”

Bruce needed a moment; he stayed silent as he left you and went to a nearby table where he had set out all the things he’d been using to tend to you. Clenching his fists, he subtly pressed them into the table’s top, turning the knuckles white.

“Bruce, you couldn’t control that they-”

“But it was because of me,” he turned to you, voice calmer than you expected, but there was a look you knew well when he set his vengeance on someone.

You looked down, starting to cry again, this time as a mixture of things. Bruce was soon at your side again, swiping a tear away with his thumb as you lifted your head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough, I blame myself, because I’m supposed to protect you, no matter what and I couldn’t. You are my whole life, my whole world; I could lose all this,” he gestured around, “but if I have you, I have everything I need. And I let those criminals touch you, that I cannot leave alone. I love you, and I’m never going to let this happen again; if I had my way you'd never feel so much as a papercut again.”

“I thought you didn’t want to make me cry more,” you tried to hide your face, but he held it in his hands, so you reached around his arms to wipe your eyes with the fluffy sleeve of the robe.

Bruce simply stared at you. You once again rested your hands on his wrists, giving a deep sigh. He ghosted his thumb against your bottom lip, noticing a cut. It wasn’t fresh, but it was still there, “how bad does that hurt? Be honest.”

You sniffled, “not too bad,” looking up through your damp eyelashes.

Bruce dipped cautiously to place a feathery kiss to your lips, lingering to see if you’d respond, when you leaned forward to press yours against his, he took that as your sign. Shifting his hand to the back of your head for support, he deepened the kiss, dipping deeper and pressing a little harder. You slipped your hands to his chest, allowing him to get closer. His opposite hand slid to the base of your neck.

“Ow,” you suddenly pulled back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bruce says, looking to where his hand was, noticing a bruise right under it, “I missed that one.”

“It’s really tender,” you admit with a strained voice as he brings over more medicine.

“Okay, I just need to-”

“Wait-wait,” you take his hand in both of yours, softly laughing, feeling like a child who’s watching a parent pull out a splinter, fussing over it before they even touch it.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks, trying not to laugh, even though you were.

“Yeah, just, hang on,” you meet his gaze with a smile, “I just need to prepare for it, I’m a little more aware now.”

Bruce waited, “do you want a popsicle? I always liked getting them at the doctor’s. Not a fan of orange though”

You only giggled harder, not even noticing that he was already touching the bruise with the medicine.

“I’m serious, it tastes like cough medicine,” Bruce said even more serious, “I hate cough medicine, why does it make you cough even more when you take it?”

“Bruce, wait don’t-”

“It’s already done,” he pulled back a little, “but I’d still like to take a look at your back, just to make sure I didn’t miss any.”

“Oh,” you dropped your head, forehead touching his again, before you straightened up, shifting the robe down your arms, exposing your back, as Bruce made his way around you, “sure you still want to marry me, after seeing me like this?” You tried to smile, “it’s not very pretty.”

“I’d marry you anytime, anywhere, no matter what you looked like,” Bruce says in the most serious tone, kissing the nape of your neck, making your shiver a little, “after all, you’re the one marrying the guy who dresses up like a bat.”

You smile, looking down to your wedding ring covered in specks of red, despite the condition you could still see it shining in the dim light of the cave. You wanted to start crying again, just seeing it and remembering how much you loved him.

“We’ll get you both cleaned up,” Bruce kissed the side of your neck from behind, “how are you feeling?”

You sniffled, as he made his way back in front of you, “bruised, but not broken,” you whispered, lifting your head high, feeling a world better than when you first woke up.

“That’s my girl,” Bruce whispered back, stroking your cheek.

“I’m gonna be okay?” you asked.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he answered, “everything’s going to be okay again.”

Mouthing ‘okay,’ you sighed, “I’m really tired.”

“Let’s get you back upstairs and to bed then,” Bruce suggested and you agreed.

“I don’t know if I can walk yet,” you admitted, almost embarrassed.

“I wouldn’t let you if you could,” Bruce said with a smile, moving to pick you up like the bride you were.

The lift began to take the two of you to the ground level again. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you breathed in his cologne, having missed it, and him.

“Bruce,” you spoke, looking up, “I know-I know you want to catch them but…”

Tensing for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to expect next, he was making no promises to drop it, or to let the police handle it.

“But will you stay with me tonight?”

Feeling you grip your fingers against him a little more, he kissed your forehead, “always,” he met your gaze for a moment, “if you ask, I’ll always stay.”

#spilledkauffie #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne oneshot #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fluff #batman x reader #batman x you #batman fluff #batman fic #batman fanfiction #batman fandom #bale!batman fic #bale!batman fanfic #bale!batman #christian bale

[meshlasolus]

Family Ties

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Bruce Wayne request: Are you taking requests for bruce wayne? Bale or Affleck? Bale preferred? How about dating and getting engaged and bruce wayne had to meet your parents and family? -@christianbalefanatic

Thank you so much for this, I absolutely loved writing it and may have gotten carried away!

"Business meetings are not scary," he said, glancing over at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"They should be, at least compared to this."

Bruce sighed, turning around and meeting you face to face. You were stunning, as always. It was effortless for you. He felt that he was somehow incapable of making a good impression in comparison to you, which was purely silly.

"It's just my parents, Bats," he smiled when you pulled out the nickname. You felt maybe it would ease his senses, make him less of a mad man. You'd never seen him so stressed about what his hair looked like.

"It's not necessarily your mother I'm worried for, but I've heard some stories about your dad. What happened to that one ex boyfriend of yours again?" He teased. You rolled you eyes knowing he probably remembered it way worse than you had explained. One of your old boyfriends cheated on you, so your father decided it might be a good idea to burn all the stuff he left at your apartment at a neighborhood bbq. He was furious of course, but your father thought well of his work.

"He was a jerk, and he deserved what he got. You have been nothing but good to me, he won't have a problem with you," you carefully adjusted his tie, which had been crooked from all the times he yanked on it for dear life. "And besides, I already got the ring, it's not like he's gonna grill you about your intentions."

Bruce sighed again. He knew you were right, but he couldn't afford to mess this up. First impressions are important, and considering he'd never met your folks until now... he was terrified. You were already engaged for crying out loud, and yet he was going on a tirade about how he might not he accepted warmly.

"Does your dad own a shotgun?" He asked suddenly.

"What? No, Bruce... no."

Now he was just being ridiculous.

"I can't believe Batman is afraid of my father," you chuckled, taking off into the room to find your shoes. It was just about time to leave, and Alfred had kindly prepared the Lamborghini this evening. That man was a Saint, especially for putting up with Bruce all day before you got home.

"I'm not afraid... I just don't want to be the son in law he doesn't like having around."

You opened the door to Alfred in the hallway, and he had the keys in his hand. You took them kindly, and kissed his cheek, thanking him for his help.

"Do you even remember who you are? Bruce just talk about your life, what you do for a living. Maybe throw in some stuff about football," you told him as you walked down the hallway, your hips swaying with every quick step you took.

"Football?"

You could hear the look on his face.

"Hush, my dad likes football," you told him, pushing him into the garage before you so he didn't have any reason to turn back now.

He got into the car first, watching as you joined him. Normally he opened the door for you, but you pushed him away, knowing he would use anything he could to stall.

The drive was mostly silent, but comfortable, with Bruce's hand resting on its place at your thigh, with you hand laid upon his. The gentle squeezes you felt told you how nervous he was. He literally face deadly situations every night, faught off men that had the ability to kill him with one stroke, but he was scared of a little evening visit with your family.

By the time you arrived, the sun had nearly set. He'd never been to this area of Gotham before, but rather liked it. It was very quaint, with homes down the block that reminded him of the suburbs from his favorite childhood movies. He took your hand in his, and came to the door with a gift for your parents in hand. He followed every rule in the book, hoping it would pay off.

You knocked on the door, waiting for an answer, and felt Bruce's hand start to shake. Poor little baby boy. He's probably never done this before.

"Hey," you got his attention, raising and lowering your hand in a motion to tell him "breathe."

He let out the breath he was holding and put on his best smile when your mother opened the door.

"Darling it's so good to see you," she said pulling you in for a hug. "Oh, and you must be Bruce. Honey, he's even more handsome in person."

You laughed at her antics, seeing how she was taking him all in. Your mother was nothing if not supportive of everything you did. How proud she was at the woman you grew up to be, and this man you'd brought to meet her. She liked him already.

"Oh boy it's cold out here... come in, come in!" She huddled you both inside, and immediately you could smell your dad's cooking. He loved to make food for people, and you'd bet that of all the fancy restaurants Bruce had ever been to, he would appreciate this meal even more. Your dad never pursued a career in the kitchen, but he sure knew what he was doing.

"That smells really good," he whispered in your ear as you came through to the dining room.

"Wait till you taste it."

Your father stood at the stove, and when he turned around with a broad smile on his face, Bruce instantly relaxed. Your father was so happy to see you. It had been a while since you were able to visit. Phone calls were frequent, but in person was so much better.

"There's my girl," he came up and wrapped you in a hug, but when he saw Bruve standing there awkwardly he pulled back, offering a warm handshake which Bruce gladly took. "And the famous Mr. Wayne."

"Please, call me Bruce," he said. He felt his first impressions had gone rather well as of now, but he still had to get through the night.

🦇

Dinner was a success, at least in your opinion. You were sure Bruce would come out of this night with great triumph, and be able to rest peacefully tonight at the thought of both your parents being fond of him.

Those thoughts washed down the drain when your father spoke up. "I was hoping I could have a word with you Bruce, alone if that's alright with you."

'Oh no.'

You looked over into his eyes and he froze. His poor face... like a terrified little boy. How on earth could your father be so intimidating that the Batman cowered in fear?

"Here sweetie, let's give them some room," your mother was quick to usher you from the sitting room, and back to the dining room area. You were still eavesdropping, a skill you learned from good ole mom. There were subtle indents in the wall that made ot perfect for listening in on 'manly interactions' which turned out to often be pathetic small talk and mentions of sports. You weren't particularly a fan of football, which your father loved, but you hoped Bruce would somehow pull something together incase it was brought up. You knew you were right to warn your fiancée about such a common topic of interest... your dad couldn't go a night without sports talk.

"Really? I can never get seats that close to the 50, it drives me nuts."

"They sell fast, pretty much as soon as they're available," Bruce chuckled, keeping his hand steady by gripping the arm of the chair more firmly. "And don't even get me started on baseball tickets...."

"Oh boy... I don't even remember the last time I went to a game where I wasn't in the nosebleeds."

"Well, I have pulled some strings a few times."

Your father was so excited at the mention of being below the second stands in a stadium. He had always taken you as a kid, but the good tickets were alwayd outrageously expensive, or they just sold out really fast. Gotham sure loved baseball.

"One time I needed to put together a birth present for a certain someone," he nodded to the doorway to the dining room, and though I couldn't see, I of course knew he was talking about me. I remembered the day he surprised me, it was wonderful. "I called in a few favors, got seats behind home dugout."

"That's gotta be insane."

Your dad was like a kid on Christmas morning. You didn't think he could have been any more happy in company if it were one of his lifelong friends.

"If you'd like to go sometime, I wouldn't mind pulling a few more strings," he said, cracking a charming smile. You knew he'd already won over your father, now he was just showing off. Bruce was never braggy, but he did sometimes get carried away.

"I wouldn't want to impose..." you father shook his head but Bruce wasn't having it.

"Nonsense, it would be fun. I'll call and see what I can get set up, no problem."

That was the golden ticket right there. Your dad never had a son to go to sports games with, and though he took you to plenty baseball events in your life, it simoly wasn't the same, because it wasn't something you were passionate about. It was simply an occasional thing you enjoyed.

You peeked your head around the corner to see them whispering to each other, and then shaking hands. You were so proud.

On the car ride home, Bruce was beaming. You knew that your dad had to have told him something wonderful for such a reaction to be written on his features.

"So what did my dad have to say?"

"You mean the part where you couldn't hear?" He asked. Your look of being caught off guard made him chuckle. "He told me that he'd lived in a house with you both long enough to know when you were eavesdropping."

"I can't believe he knew all these years and never said anything."

Bruce placed his hand high on your thigh, stroking circles with his thumb.

"He did have something else to say, you know," he paused and watched as you glanced up to meet his awaiting eyes. "He told me that he's never seen you so happy as when you were with me."

Bingo. That was the best thing Bruce could have expected to hear that evening and he heard it straight from the man that he feared. You were brining Bruce into your family now, he was apart of it.

You were grateful for the love you shared, and that you had the opportunity to have him in your life.

#the joker #gotham #gotham imagine #batman #batman imagine #batmom #batman x reader #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne

[c-nstantine]

Winter Wonderland

Description: Winter at the Manor

Warnings: None

Word Count: 300, it's short and sweet

"Wake up, Bruce!" Y/N said shaking her husband awake. The manor was rarely quiet bur today it was beautiful. Blanket soft pillowy snow covered the manor grounds. Light flurries still fell from the sky.

"Why? What's on fire? What's wrong?" Bruce rolled out of bed immediately ready to fight any dangers that may come. Y/N giggled at the quickness of her husband. Bruce looked at Y/N with a bit of relaxedness knowing that everything was okay.

"It's snowing, "Y/N said coaxing her husband back into bed.

"It's Gotham. It's either snowing or raining." Bruce grumbled. He ducked his head under the covers. Laying his head on his wife's stomach, Bruce allowed Y/N to stroke his hair.

"Yeah, but all the kids are in the house. That hasn't happened in a while." Y/N gleamed with the possibility of all her kids being home with such beautiful scenery.

Dick came home from Bludhaven to get more leads on a case. Jason came home for his favorite dessert from Alfred. Tim, Cass, and Duke lived in the manor but they tended to stay out with their friends more often. Damian just returned from a trip with Jon Kent.

-

"If I see one person without a hat, gloves, and coat on while outside, I will tell Alfred. Do I make myself clear?" Y/N said adjusting Damian's scarf. Even Titus and Ace had little dog booties to protect their feet from the cold.

"Yes, ma'am," spoke a chorus of kids.

"Fifty dollars for whoever manages to hit Bruce with a snowball." Y/N likes to incite chaos every once in awhile. It helped keep Bruce on his toes.

-

"Y/N, is there any particular reason I got pelted with snowballs?"Bruce had flakes of snow stuck in his hair. His face was beet red and his nose looked like Rudolph. Laughing could be heard from outside the manor.

"Nope, you should take a shower, though. You smell like outside." Y/N responded as Bruce tried to kiss her. She quickly dodged his lips and patted his cheeks.

"I wonder why."

"Me too,"

Bruce Wayne x Reader Tags: @christianbalefanatic

Batmom Tags: @ultraxavbo

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x black!reader #bruce x reader #x black!reader #batmom #batfam #batfam fic #black!batmom #c-nstantine

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Smiles

Requested by: @christianbalefanatic

Summary: The handful of moments that helped shape your relationship with Bruce Wayne interlaced with the one that solidified it.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader

Word Count: 3,798

Warnings/Disclaimers: There is a segment where Batman goes into a burning building. Other than that, none.

A/N: I seriously don’t know what happened here. My brain took this and ran. And to think this is version two. Got 1k words into the first version before I decided I hated it and started over. I hope I went in the right direction with this. Enjoy!

Masterlist

“Alfred?”

The grandfatherly gentleman’s head whipped around to see you standing at the top of the stairs.

“What is all this?”

You knew already. A retired Batsuit protected by multiple layers of bulletproof glass in the cool cave littered with computers and gadgets would generally be more than enough, but it felt like you needed verbal validation from another source.

—

Your freshly brewed beverage was scalding to the point where its warmth traveled well into the ceramic handle, keeping your fingers comfortable as you traversed the abnormally cold halls. You were going to have to scold your coworker Dean for messing with the thermostat again. On the way to your cubicle, you nudged the back of said employee’s chair and shot him a lighthearted glare as he spun around to see who disturbed him. The larger man grinned apologetically as you glided down the aisle towards your cubicle.

Chattering traveling down the hall caught your attention before you had a chance to take your seat. With the normal quiet shattered, your coworkers’ curiosities peaked, all poking their heads from their stations like groundhogs. That was when you first saw the billionaire CEO. Bruce Wayne was walking through your floor with a gaggle of board members in his wake. As if seeing the group like it was their own shadow, your fellow employees ducked down to their work, keeping up a dutiful appearance while they were really just eavesdropping.

You, however, remained out in the open, transfixed by the sight. Mr. Wayne was certainly impressive. An expertly tailored suit swaddled him effortlessly. His hair was impeccably neat and out of his face. But there was something off about him. To anyone else, the smile he wore would have appeared genuine, a sign of interest in the conversation. To you? No. The way the corners of his mouth curled up… It was strained with effort. You swung into your chair just as he glanced your way, narrowly avoiding eye contact with each other.

—

Alfred was out of his seat before you could say another word. Other than calling out your name, he wasn’t sure what to do. It was clear this was a first for him.

He cleared his throat of the gurgling anxiety threatening to boil over. “Is everything alright?” he tried to ask as though this was a completely normal situation. “It is fairly late. Should you not be in bed?”

You just stood there, staring down at the butler incredulously.

—

It had been months since the first time you saw Mr. Wayne in person, and now you were locked in a handshake with him at the annual employee gala. Strangely enough, you had started finding him on your floor more often since that day. Other than catching the glances thrown your way, you hadn’t had any interactions with the man before this evening.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne,” you introduced yourself to the playboy for the first time.

He chuckled as he cordially shook your hand with his unexpectedly calloused fingers. “The pleasure is mine. And please, ‘Bruce’ is fine.”

Although his smile was mostly authentic, his eyes were analytically curious. The eye contact was nearly unnerving as he put together the puzzle pieces of your personality without a word. With a firm squeeze, the handshake ended. His lips parted a moment before they were pulled into a smile, one that actually reached his eyes. It was such a minuscule glimpse behind the mask, and it left you wanting more.

“I hear from your supervisor that you have settled into your position well. Your work is superb,” he complimented.

“I wouldn’t say that, si—” You cleared your throat as he raised a brow at the respective term and corrected, “Bruce. I’m just good with numbers.”

Bruce plucked a couple of champagne glasses from a passing server and offered you one which you gratefully accepted. It would give you something to distract your eyes or hide behind if need be.

“Is that all? Surely there must be more to it. You saved the company hundreds of thousands. That’s no small feat.”

There was that smile, again, this one more flirtatious in nature.

—

“Alfred,” you warned. “I’m not a child.”

The butler sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He waved for you to come down. “I suppose there is no hiding it anymore.”

Gingerly making your way down the icy steps, you cursed at yourself for not wearing socks to bed or at least not having put some on when you decided to traverse the manor to search for your absent boyfriend. Alfred met you at the landing. You took the hand he offered so as not to slip on the final steps.

“So Bruce is—”

“Batman, yes,” he finished for you.

—

Despite the tabloids dubbing your employer-employee relationship a “scandalous affair” and your coworkers’ warnings, when Bruce asked you to move in with him, you accepted. Sure, you had some second thoughts. Who wouldn’t? Living together is a huge step in any relationship. But when he showed up at your doorstep, insisting on helping you move himself, dressed deliciously in casual clothing you only saw in the mornings after staying the night, your anxiety vanished.

It didn’t take long to finish packing. Your apartment was tiny enough. Most of the furnishings stayed, and you had many of your things sealed in cardboard already. All that was left was the essentials which you took care of while Bruce shouldered the heavier boxes. You joined him at the SUV the moment you finished.

The ride back to the manor was accompanied by a soft silence. Not that either of you needed to utter a word. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other threaded with yours, Bruce’s unhindered smile grew with every glance thrown your way. He must have been just as excited as you, or maybe it was the enjoyable weather.

You loved the city but still preferred the open air. The trees racing alongside in a menagerie of reds and yellows just as beautiful as any Monet painting warmed your soul despite the chilly wind cascading through the open window. Your calm joy was infectious. Bruce’s normally rigid shoulders were relaxed. Mostly. Apprehension still hid behind those blue irises.

The curtain of foliage parted all too soon to reveal the Wayne Estate where an eager Alfred was already waiting out front for your arrival. His face was full of muted mirth as he nonchalantly slid the boxes out of your hands. The unwavering pep in his step as he brought your things inside was certainly welcoming. The older gentleman had never been shy about expressing to you his elation in his master finding who made him happy. This was just another way of him showing it.

—

“I apologize for not speaking of this sooner. You have every right to know. Master Wayne feared what may come of your involvement.”

Alfred led you to the chair he had just occupied that sat before an obnoxiously large series of computer screens.

“Did he ever plan to tell me about any of this?” You gestured to all the electronics in the room as you leaned on the side of the control panel, refusing to sit down just yet.

“It is something he has put some thought into. When we have discussed it, he believes you’re not ready…” he trailed off as he looked down to the floor defeatedly.

Picking at your nails absentmindedly, you huffed a soft laugh. “Or maybe he’s the one not ready.”

His shoulders shook with a chuckle. “I do believe that is more accurate.”

—

You groaned as you rolled over blearily to shut off the blaring alarm intruding on your sleep. Unlike your boyfriend, you still had an obligation to arrive at work on time. Your efforts to follow through and swing your legs off the bed were thwarted by a pair of arms sneaking around your waist to pull you back from the edge.

“Stay,” came a muffled, gravely voice pressed into your shoulder.

Snickering, you plucked at his fingers for your freedom. “I have work today.”

“No,” Bruce whined and tightened his grip. “Call in.”

“As tempting as it is, I can’t do that.” You rolled in his arms to face him.

“Yes, you can. Especially if I approve it,” he rebutted, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“You of all people know I would never take advantage of that.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck. “But the bed will get cold without you.”

“Says the walking furnace.”

He chuckled into your skin and finally released you. “Fine! You can go if you’re just going to make fun of me,” he pouted. He was unable to hide his smirk.

“I’ll see you at lunch, you goof,” you laughed and planted a kiss on his cheek.

—

“Would you like a tour, or would you prefer to wait for Master Wayne?”

You feigned considering the options. “I think I’ll wait. Should make him do it since he couldn’t be bothered to tell me about this.”

“An excellent choice, I must say.” Alfred tempered his grin. “I will prepare us tea for the time being.”

“That sounds lovely. Thank you.”

You plopped down in the chair as the butler made his way up the stairs. Spinning around in the chair, you took in the monitors stacked and rising high up to the ceiling. A handful displayed random bits of data (or what looked random to you) while the rest acted as surveillance over the city — street corners, warehouses, piers, storefronts, bars. It seemed like he had nearly everything covered. Nearly. There was something missing.

—

The knife clicked on the cutting board as you finished chopping up the carrots and celery for a quick and easy shepherd’s pie, its rhythmic sound lulling you into an almost meditative state. It was one of the nights where you beat Bruce home and you forced Alfred, much to his dismay, to take a break for once. Meaning, you got to display the cooking skills you had and make the boys meals they rarely had. You were so far gone in your ministrations, you never heard the kitchen door swing open.

Done with the vegetables, you placed the knife in the sink and darted to the stove to stir the potatoes in an attempt to keep them from boiling over. When you were satisfied the frothy water was under control, you flipped on the burner for the skillet, dropping a drizzle of oil into the pan. As you turned to the refrigerator to grab the ground beef, you caught a flicker of movement in the corner of your eye.

Bruce chuckled at your skittered jump. You were less than amused, feeling as though your heart leapt out of your throat. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a half dopey smirk plastered on his face like he had just been lost in thought. Although it was the newest smile you had seen, it had quickly become one of your favorites.

“I was wondering when you would notice,” Bruce chortled as he pushed himself away from the door only to lean on the kitchen island.

“I didn’t expect you back quite this early,” you countered, quickly returning to your task to hide your uncontrollable grin.

A quiet shuffle sounded behind you.

“With you cooking? I had to.”

You carefully scooped the veggies into the skillet.

“And how did you find out? Alfred tattled on me, didn’t he?” you scoffed in mock offense.

You could feel Bruce’s eyes on you as you tried to focus on sautéing the food.

“Not this time, no,” he laughed.

Giving the vegetables one more good toss, you opened up the package of meat and gently placed it in the pan.

“Then please tell me, Sherlock, just how did you know I would choose tonight to cook?”

You moved to the sink to quickly wash your hands, turning just enough to see him creeping up. His suit jacket was draped over the island counter.

“Well…” He snaked his arms around your waist, pressing into your backside while you reached for a towel to dry your hands. “Based on previous behaviors, you like to keep yourself busy and tend to wind up here when you are done at work early.”

“Fair enough,” you snickered and shooed him away with the towel so you could tend to the pan. “And as sweet as it is, you’re not helping.” You looked over your shoulder, catching Bruce mid sleeve roll.

“Why not?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Alfred banned you from cooking after last time, remember?” you chided playfully.

“The potatoes weren’t that burnt,” he protested.

“Black and inedible.”

Bruce threw his hands up to withdraw his argument. “Alright, alright. It wasn’t great, but that was one time.”

“One time of turning potatoes into charcoal, yeah,” you laughed, breaking up bits of meat just beginning to brown.

“Oh?” His hands found purchase on your waist, and he nuzzled his face into your hair. “What other atrocities have I committed in this sanctioned space?”

“Burnt cookies, fried rice with uncooked rice, grease fire—”

“Okay, I get it,” he guffawed. With a kiss to your temple, he released you and made his way to the door. “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

Turning down the heat a tad, you threw one last smirked comment over your shoulder. “Just because you can’t cook, doesn’t mean I don’t want your company in the kitchen.”

Just as you were about to place your attention back to the stove, you were able to catch the soft grin on Bruce’s face.

—

Alfred returned rather quickly, almost as though most of it was prepared ahead of time. Knowing him, it probably was. He graciously poured you a cup and joined you in reviewing the monitors. The silence was warm and comforting. The tea may have helped with that, but part of you thought the company did too. How many nights had Alfred been down here all alone doing nothing but surveillance?

Wait…

“Alfred… Where are all the people?”

A breath caught in his throat as he took a closer look. There were a few screens where a handful of people were visible, but for the most part, the cameras’ fields of view were void of life. While it was a little after two in the morning, Gotham rarely, if ever, slept. There was always something happening, and it usually wasn’t great.

Leaning forward, the butler pressed a button and spoke into a microphone you hadn’t noticed before. “Sir, there is a lack of movement in the blocks surrounding the First Bank of Gotham.”

Bru— Batman responded immediately, “Any signs of guards patrolling the building?”

“None, sir. Neither inside or outside.”

“Interesting. I’ll check it out.”

—

Curled on the sofa with a procured book from the library shelf, you read in solitude as you awaited Bruce’s return from the office. Well, you tried to read. It was another night nearing midnight, and he still wasn’t home. As time wore on, the text gradually faded in and out alongside your focus.

A clearing of a throat started you out of your stupor. You pushed yourself up to peer over the back of the couch. It was Alfred.

The sympathetic look on his face with an equally kind voice put you at ease immediately. “Master Wayne won’t return for a few more hours.”

“That new contract must be a doozy for it to take this long,” you breathed sleepily.

“Yes, he is working quite diligently. Perhaps, retiring to bed would be advisable?”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t mind. Tomorrow is Saturday anyways. Great day to sleep in.”

“Of course” He gifted you with that familiar, guarded smile. “I shall leave you to it, then.”

Huh. So that’s where Bruce got it from.

—

The Batmobile skidded to a halt around the back of the now burning building. It was one thing to rob a bank, but did the perpetrators really need that much grandiose? Were they really attempting to steal money, or were they trying to make a statement?

Oh, what were you thinking? This is Gotham. It was both.

Fire and glittering glass had erupted from the building shortly after Alfred contacted Batman. Now that he was on the scene, he immediately swung into action. Quite literally, actually. A grappling hook shot out, anchoring to a gargoyle on the roof, when the Batmobile’s roof slid open. Nerves skittered along your skin at the thought of him actually going inside that raging inferno.

Like he was reading your mind (or maybe he just understood the nervous look on your face that you didn’t bother with hiding), Alfred moved to the keyboard and began clacking away. After a few protesting beeps of error, one of the monitors lit up with feed from inside the bank. He flipped through surveillance cameras, most of which had fallen into static from the intense heat, attempting to locate any sign of life.

One flickered to life. It was of the vestibule. The cameras here were high enough to escape the explosion, and with another swap, one was the perfect vantage point to spot a lone security guard limping towards the door they hadn’t yet realized was blocked.

“Sir, there is a single civilian in the lobby. I am unable to locate any others.”

“I’m on my way. No signs of the perpetrators.”

You couldn’t help but gawk at how calm Batman was in this situation.

“I will inform you the moment I see otherwise.”

The Dark Knight swooped into the field of view, reaching the security guard in no time at all. They spooked when his hand fell on their shoulder but straightened a bit when they realized who had come to their aid. Gripping what was probably a dislocated arm, they shook their head though answering a question. Then, Batman picked them up, swaddling them both in his cape and launched out the glassless window.

A quick change to the outside cameras showed the two having landed safely on the sidewalk where the GCPD were just arriving with the fire department and paramedics in tow. Alfred dashed back through the inside feed again. Still, there was no one else to be found. Back to the view of the sidewalk, Batman gingerly passed the guard to the police and paramedics before utilizing his grappling hook once again to extract himself from any interrogations. He narrowly avoided the chaos from emerging onlookers, settling into the Batmobile with little pause before speeding away.

You didn’t have to wait long for the iconic vehicle to return, its rumbled echoes filling the cave and alerting you to its presence before even seeing it roll into a screeching halt only an hour after the bank incident. The doors slid open as the engine died down.

“Alfred, I need you to run a scan on this,” Batman greeted and stepped out. “It may help us identify the ones who attacked—”

The vigilante froze, mouth agape, when he looked up to find you sitting in his chair with Alfred standing beside you.

“Of course, Master Wayne,” the butler wasted no time in answering him, quickly striding across the room to retrieve the object Batman had pulled from his utility belt. “In the meantime, I believe you have more important things to attend to.”

Without even needing to motion to you as he spoke, Alfred plucked the item out of the gloved hand before disappearing to a connected room. With him gone, the only sounds to be heard were the clicks and beeps of the computer nearby. The masked man had yet to say a word to you.

“So,” you started, noticing the way his hands clenched and released at your voice. “You want to tell me about all of this, Bruce?”

His shoulders slumped, and he slowly reached up to remove his cowl. “I did plan on telling you…” he replied quietly.

His now visible aquatic eyes were soft, wavering cautiously as he gauged your reaction. The soot on his face revealed where the cowl had protected him with sharp lines. You stood, finding a towel on a counter close by, and brought it to him. Bruce’s hand twitched like he was going to take it from you, but you never gave him the chance. There was no hesitation in your movements as you reached up to clean his face.

“When?” you breathed.

Your ministrations were gentle, your gaze just as sympathetic. However, you didn’t break eye contact with him even for a moment. He needed to know just how worried you were.

“I…” He looked as sheepish as a scolded puppy. “I hadn’t figured that out yet.”

The statement hit you harder than it should have. You tried to choke down the laugh bubbling in your throat. It didn’t work. All it served was earning you well-deserved raised brow from the man you were giggling at.

“Batman, the impossibly always prepared Batman, did not have a fully realized plan?”

Bruce sighed your name with a frown. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, taking in a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself.

He merely huffed and pulled your towel-clad hand away. You hadn’t realized his face was clean by now.

“I should have told you sooner. I just… Couldn’t… Couldn’t find—”

“Couldn’t find the appropriate moment?” you stopped him, unable to watch him uncharacteristically flounder like this. “I guess I get it… There really isn’t ever a right time to say, ‘Guess what, I’m the masked vigilante you see on the news at least once a week.’”

What tension he had left in his shoulders vanished. He cupped your face, the leather-like material of his gloves not entirely uncomfortable.

“I— I didn’t want to lose you either…”

His voice was laced with desperation. You could see just how difficult all of this was for him. He wasn’t used to fully opening up. What you had seen after he asked you to move in was the tiniest sliver of what you were witnessing now.

“Bruce…” You placed your hands over his to keep them in place. “Maybe I haven’t done a good job expressing myself either. You should know I would not have left you and will never over you being Batman. If anything, you’re stuck with me even more so now. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

With that, a grin spread across the Dark Knight’s face. It was the purest, most unadulterated smile you had ever seen. It reached his eyes, making them sparkle with the light of entire galaxies. The metaphorical mask had melted, never to be worn for you again.

Tag list: @christianbalefanatic

#bruce can’t cook #i stand by that head cannon #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #batman x you #batman x reader #bruce wayne oneshot #batman oneshot #bruce wayne fluff #batman fluff #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfic #batman fanfiction #batman fanfic

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being nervous to attend Christian Bale’s movie premiere.

“Are you sure that you want me there?” You said, holding onto Christian’s hand while in the back of the black car that was bringing the both of you to the grand red carpet.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, giving your hand a squeeze. “Are you feeling nervous?”

“Very,” You admitted. “Nervous. Anxious. Terrified. Take your pick.”

“Okay, let’s take a breath. Can you take the scenic route please?” He asked to the driver who flicked up the turn signal, turning away from the most direct route. With his seatbelt around him, Christian turned to look at you. Eye to eye. “What are you feeling anxious about?”

“What if I trip?” You said, voicing your fears. “Or embarrass you somehow? Oh god, what if I spill my drink on whoever sits in front of me? I don’t want to insult an actress!”

“You’ve never embarrassed me before,” Christian said, trying not to laugh. You could see his upper lip twitching. But he was holding it together. Thank god, you wouldn’t have done well if he had started laughing. “And have you ever spilt your drink on someone before?”

“Well no but - there’s a first time for everything!”

“I will hold onto you, you won’t trip,” He assured. “You’ve never embarrassed me before. Unless you decide to throw a cream pie in my face in front of everyone, I think it’s impossible. And I will hold onto your drink when you aren’t drinking it, how does that sound?”

“Like you really want me to come with you,” You admitted.

“Of course I do.”

Four hours later, you were in the same car. Same seats. Same driver. Same streets. But heading back the way that you had come. “So, did I embarrass you?” Christian asked playfully.

“No embarrassment at all,” You sighed, happily.

Requested by: @christianbalefanatic​

#Christian Bale #Christian Bale x reader #Christian Bale imagines #celebrity #celebrity imagines #request #imagines #x reader #christianb

[christianbalefanatic]

Behind the Scenes of American Psycho (1999)

Re: Christian Bale as Patrick Bateman in American Psycho (2000) dir. Mary Harron 

(christianbalefanatic edit)

#christian bale #celeb #movies #film #hollywood #icon #actor #drama #christianbalefanatic #my edit #american psycho #patrick bateman #mary harron #2000 #1999 #2000s #2000s movies #2000s films #2000s actors #2000s icons #early 2000s #2000s hollywood #behind the scenes

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Twelve

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: Angst. Pure angst. Cursing.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, claudiahxrdy , @christianbalefanatic, @librarianafterdark​,  @rosegxoxo​

Author’s Note: This chapter is dedicated to the anon who wrote me and said they got so into reading this series that apparently, their mom whoop their ass. I apologize for past and any future ass whooping.

A silence was shared between Demetria and Alfred as they waited on bated breath for Bruce’s return.

Demetria twirled the pendant of her necklace as Alfred checked his watch every few minutes or so. The old man’s eyes shifted to the young woman.

“What exactly did Master Wayne tell you about the night his parents were murdered?” Alfred questioned.

She thought for a moment. “Just that they were leaving the theater when some guy from the mafia shot them down in an alley,” she recalled. “He told me the name but it’s escaping me at the moment.”

“Did he ever tell you that it was Gordon who found him?”

She shook her head. Alfred went on. “Gordon called me that night and told me he had Bruce in his office. He offered to bring Bruce to his house and then drop him off in the morning. I assured I could pick up. When I arrived, Gordon was with Bruce in his office. Another officer said Gordon wouldn’t let anyone else near him. Made sure he knew that that boy was safe with him. I suppose he might’ve forgotten that, but I can assure you, Bruce hasn’t.”

The weight of the situation felt clearer. It also made sense to Demetria as to why Gordon was Batman’s confidant. Bruce trusted Gordon.

The grumble of the platform rising down to the Batcave broke the silence, the two watching intensely.

Bruce kept his eyes to the ground, rolling his motorcycle to where he kept his other transports. Demetria and Alfred watched his every move when the old man gently nudged Demetria.

“I’m going to let you handle this one,” he whispered.

She gave a nod. The old man turned to Bruce. “I’ll meet you back at the penthouse, Master Wayne.”

Alfred was met with silence. Demetria mouthed “thank you” as the old man gave her a reassuring smile.

She turned her attention to Bruce, watching as he made his way to the desk. He leaned over the desk table, his head hung low.

Her heart fell to her stomach and she wondered if she was up for this challenge. She made her way toward him. What seemed so natural felt so awkward. She feared being clingy or overtaking his space, but still yearned to show love and support.

“Bruce,” she spoke up. She stood behind him, but gave him enough space as to not crowd him.  “This isn’t your fault.”

He didn’t look at her. “Joker wouldn’t exist without Batman.”

“Given Gotham’s history, I kind of doubt that.”

He turned to her as she flashed an apologetic smile. She took his hand in hers, quietly surprised he accepted it. “You knew when you took this on that there were going to be days like these. Unfortunately, this one was personal and I get it. I meant it when I said I’m here for you. But that doesn’t mean I’m also going to sit here and let you blame yourself.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “And I don’t think Gordon would want you to blame yourself either.”

He pulled her to him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. His forehead rest against hers as he melted in her arms and touch. There was something about the way Demetria would touch or hold him that brought out a vulnerability in him that he had pushed away since the death of his parents. She knew how to make him feel a peace he had sworn he’d never feel again.

“I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled, loud enough for Demetria to listen.

She pulled back and held his cheek in her hand.

“Don’t say that, ok?” she said. “I’m serious, Bruce. I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. If you don’t want me saying it, I don’t want you saying it. Understood?”

He nodded, taking her hand off his cheek and gently pressing his lips inside the palm of her hand.

“I need to be alone,” he told her gently. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

She nodded understandingly. “You get home safe as well, ok?”

“I promise.”

================

She turned on the shower when she heard her cell ring. She looked to see the caller ID. 

She contemplated answering, but given what happened hours earlier declining it didn’t sit well with her. She turned off the shower and answered. “What Harvey?”

“I need to see you. Can you come down here so we can talk?”

She sighed. “I’ll send you upstairs. It’s safer up here. Bruce isn’t home.”

“I don’t-.”

“If you’re not gonna listen to me, then stop wasting my time because it already cost you a life today.”

Her tone was laced with a kind of venom she had never used on him before. She was surprised he didn’t yell at her or even hang up, indicating whatever it was had to be serious.

“Please let the front desk let me up,” he sighed.

“Fine.”

She hung up and dialed the front desk. After informing the front desk to let Harvey through, she set the phone down on the bathroom counter. She changed into black sweatpants and a grey turtleneck.

“Heads up, Harvey is coming in for a moment,” she informed Alfred as she walked past the kitchen.

“I assume I shouldn’t offer him tea or water?” the old man remarked.

She smiled before opening the door to see Harvey standing there. “What do you want?”

“Can we talk inside please?” he asked, a slight annoyance in his tone.

“We can go out on the balcony.”

She motioned for him to follow her. She led him outside and then turned to him again.

“You were right.” he sighed. “You were right and I’m sorry.”

Her eyes met the ground, lips pursed back. “I know you are. But I also know you enough to know there’s a favor you’re about to ask me so let’s just skip right to it.”

“I need to keep Rachel safe and she says this is the safest place in the city,” he said. “While I’m not completely convinced she’s safe here given what happened last time she was here and what happened to you at the party, I have to trust her. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but I trust you more than I trust anyone right now.”

“Is it because no one else is around or did you finally get your head out of your ass?”

Impatience filled the sigh he let out. “Demetria-.”

“Gordon’s dead because you and the mayor just had to have your little parade-.”

“The Joker is coming for Rachel.”

Demetria stepped back, her anger subsiding to shock.

Harvey shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “One is his goons was disguised as an office at the memorial. His name plate said Dawes.”

It was her turn to sigh. “Oh shit.”

“I need you to promise me you won’t let her out of your sight,” he pleaded.

She nodded her head. “Of course. Whatever it takes.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Does she know?”

“I told her.”

“Ok. Yeah. She’s good here.”

He went to make his way out, when Demetria said,“Harvey?”

He turned around.

“Do you remember what you told my dad the first night the three of us had dinner? He asked you why you wanted to stay in Gotham, and you told him it was because you wanted to give the city hope for a better, safer future. That’s what he liked about you, the fact you actually cared and you meant it.”

She paused. “When that Harvey comes back, let me know.”

With that, she walked past him and into her room. She grabbed her cell phone and texted Bruce.

Call me when you can.

=====================================

Demetria stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom when she heard the distant sound of voices from the other side of the door.

Not only did Rachel arrive, but it sounded as though Bruce had as well.

Demetria changed into black flared yoga pants and a matching zip up hoodie.

Walking out of the bedroom, she noticed Bruce and Rachel confined to the back corner of the living room. While normally she didn’t bat an eye to their close relationship, something about this moment felt oddly intimate and that her presence was bound to ruin it.

“Everything alright?” Demetria spoke up.

Bruce opened his mouth to respond when Rachel beat him to the punch. “Bruce, has something he needs to discuss with you.”

She motioned to Bruce, whose eyes fixated on the floor. “You need to be have this conversation with her,” she lectured him.

“If this is about him being Batman, I already know,” Demetria reassured.

“It’s not that,” Bruce said, looking up. He turned to Rachel for moment before turning to Demetria. “I am turning myself in tomorrow.”

Six words formed a punched that knocked her out in seconds. Her mouth fell open slightly, body frozen still.

“Thats it?” she questioned, her voice low. “You’re not gonna discuss with it me? I don’t get a say in this?”

“There’s nothing to say, Demetria. I already made up my mind. What else is there to discuss?”

Once again, his words packed a punch, this time in the gut. She was beginning not to recognize her own fiancé.

“You’re kidding me, right?,” she scoffed. “What about the fact that the city wants your head because they think you’re responsible? What about the fact that The Joker could come after Alfred or Lucius or Rachel or me just for being associated with you. You turn yourself in, you put your love ones in danger.”

“Demetria-.”

“NO!”

The room fell to an immediate, harsh silence. It was a kind vitriol neither Bruce nor Rachel had seen from Demetria. Even Demetria was taken back by her tone. But she stayed firm, even as her heart raced and stomach churned. The young woman shook as she pointed a finger at Bruce.

“I am sick of being talked down to by men, especially by the ones who are supposed to have my back!” she screamed.

The rage and fury inside her made her dizzy, but she persisted. She had to.

“What don’t you get?! He won’t stop even if you turn yourself in. He will not stop even if he has full control of the entire city. He won’t stop because he has nothing to lose, unlike you. You will lose everything. You reveal yourself, you lose your life. You lose Alfred, you lose Rachel, you lose the city. Investors will pull out of Wayne Enterprises. Funding for your charities, including the orphanage is gone. Everything you fought for, your parents fought for is gone.”

“What about you?” he inquired. “Do I lose you?”

Hot tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t answer. Any strength she had left was gone, unavailable to be used.

Bruce gave a nod.  “My decision is made.”

That was it. The final twist of the knife. She was about to turn when she when she felt him grab her hand.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” she seethed, poisonous venom laced in her tone.

Bruce’s eyes stayed on her, almost pleading. Demetria tried to pull away but he pulled back. Rachel, having seen enough, pulled his hand away.

Demetria’s face softened to Rachel, giving her a thankful nod. She went into their shared bedroom, slamming the door and locking it.

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #christian bale x reader #christian bale #batman x reader #batman imagine #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman #the joker

[cinebration]

Confirmation (John Preston x Reader) [Request]

If you are taking requests for Christian Bale how about one with John Preston realizing he has feelings for you after he defeats the rulers of Libria, a totalitarian city-state wear feelings were prohibited and many people still don’t understand how to feel such is the case with the reader… he senses that he is drawn to her and her to him… he finally gets the nerve to approach you and see if you feel the same - Maybe a kiss but you know better…A total fluff piece, what do you think?—Requested by @christianbalefanatic​

Warnings: mention of blood

Gif Source: filmfanatic

Overlooking the conflagrations igniting across the city like flares marking beacons, John Preston felt something radiating out from his chest. He glanced down, suddenly afraid he had been hit by a stray bullet, though he had not felt any impact.

No blood seeped through his white coat, the material as pristine as ever despite the bloodbath he had left in his destructive wake.

What, then, was the curious sensation unfurling within him? He probed at it gently, struggling to understand the new feeling.

That’s what it was, though—a feeling. An emotion he couldn’t place, couldn’t understand with his stunted emotional faculties.

He gazed back over Libria, hearing the shouts and cries of revolution reverberating through the streets, bouncing off the brutalist architecture. Was it pride, perhaps? Or a deep-seated sense of satisfaction? He couldn’t be sure.

Yet as he stood above it all, having been arbiter of the new change unfolding through the concrete streets, he thought not about the liberation occurring at his feet but of a person, someone he hadn’t expected to think of in that moment. It wasn’t Mary and her stern eyes or his own wife being led to the chamber. It wasn’t Partridge with his understanding gaze and the Yeats poetry collection in his hands.

It was you.

Strange that he should think of you in a moment like this. You worked in the same building as him, at one of those desks in front of him with the same exact layout as everyone else’s. You didn’t wear Grammaton black but dusty gray, the material cut exactly to your figure but in such a way that nothing was overly emphasized. It was the same uniform all the women wore and the non-Grammaton Cleric men, albeit with slight adjustments.

You wore your hair pulled back in a sharp bun as all the other women with long hair did, one unrecognizable head among a sea of heads with little buns perched atop the skull. John found himself wondering if you ever experienced a headache, an even stranger thought than merely thinking of you. After all, the hair seemed to be pulled so tight from your skull, twisted so tightly into the bun, you had to experience something, no?

Experience something.

John turned away from the window and slowly made his way through the sweeping halls as rebels rushed through the building, sweeping past him with not so much a look in his direction, too concerned with their own paths of destruction and freedom to care that he had done his part and opened the way to them.

He descended the steps, carefully sidestepping the corpses of the helmeted guards, and crossed the large plaza, deaf to the shouts ringing off the concrete city and the crackling of flames spreading out from the Prozium distribution centers.

Experience something.

You would soon be off the emotion-suppressant, as would everyone else in the city with the distribution centers so thoroughly destroyed. You would be experiencing emotion, proper sensation, for the first time.

And John wanted to be there for it, to watch you come apart and rebuild yourself anew from the riot of feelings that would sweep back to their rightful place.

Why? Why did he want to witness it, what should be an intimate and private moment reserved for yourself alone? Why intrude on such a beautiful thing?

Because he had been alone when he had experienced it, and that moment in such quiet solitude had done more damage to him than the emotions themselves. Unable to cry out and turn to someone to express his confusion and terror, he had instead been isolated, forced to keep silent. Even his own children, whom had been free of Prozium for much longer than he, had had each other to hold up.

He had been alone.

John ascended the small flight of steps in your tenement building to your door. Each door looked the same, painted gray with black metal fastenings on the wood indicating apartment number. John stopped before the one marked 6G and rapped his knuckles firmly against it.

His heart thudded in his chest, his palms sweaty in his gloves. He tore them from his hands, stuffed them in a pocket. The collar felt too tight around his neck, constricting air and blood flow. Sweat prickled along his forehead.

He had been calmer fighting his fellow Clerics than he did waiting for you to answer your door.

It swung open a fraction, your face appearing in the gap between frame and door. You frowned at him, your gaze sweeping over his face and uniform before resettling on him.

“Cleric Preston?”

The sound of your voice made his heart trip against his ribs, his breath hitching. Swallowing thickly, John nodded and struggled to dredge up words past his throat. Now that he was standing before you, he realized he didn’t know what to say.

The ratta-tatta of gunfire sounded up the street, audible even from inside the building. You glanced down the hallway toward the window, mild concern flickering across your beautiful features. A faint crease appeared between your eyebrows, almost nonexistent.

John wanted to rub his thumb over it, feel the way your skin and muscles reacted to his touch.

His mouth went dry.

“It’s over,” he managed to say. The words emerged on a shaky exhale.

“What is?”

“The oppression.”

He expected you to ask him what he meant by oppression, but you nodded slowly instead and stepped aside, widening the door to allow him to pass through. He hesitated, then entered your apartment.

It looked exactly like his, down to the layout. It unnerved him to be in what felt like his own home, an eerie replica that sent out reverberations of sameness and otherness simultaneously. How would you change the apartment after Prozium wore off? How would he change his?

“You look like you have been through chaos,” you said, wandering in after him. You changed direction, headed into the kitchen to pour some water into glasses.

“I have,” he mumbled, unsure what to do now that he was inside your home.

You handed him a glass and took a seat on the stiff, gray couch. He followed suit, perching himself on the cushion’s edge, unable to relax. His leg jittered under his left elbow, the water in his glass no longer as placid as it had been in your hands.

“You’re hurt.”

His tongue darted out to the cut on his lip, a twinge of pain lancing through the sensitive flesh there. “I know.”

You shook your head and gestured to your own neck, indicating with a finger an inch-long slice. “You’ve bled on your collar a bit.”

“Oh.” He reached up, gingerly felt the wound. It no longer wept blood, but it hurt to the touch, raw.

“Why are you here, Cleric?”

John glanced up from the blood on his fingertips and met your unblinking gaze. The directness of it unnerved him, forced him to look away as he swallowed thickly again. He loosened his collar, trying to find more air, to feel less sticky and hot. He could understand now why Prozium had its merits, how he had never experienced such anxiety before in his life nor felt its effects ravage his body.

“I’ve known you for years,” he managed to say.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking.”

He glanced up in confusion.

“We haven’t spoken much, Cleric. You have your job, I have mine. Not much causes us to cross paths.”

But I have seen the back of your head for years, seen the way you sit at your desk and carry yourself. Not once have you gotten up from your desk and crossed the room that I didn’t watch you to catch a glimpse of your profile.

“I would expect the savior of the revolution to be elsewhere at this time,” you added, speaking into the glass as you sipped the water.

“The…” He stared at you, blinking slowly as he struggled to process the meaning of your statement.

“We all have our parts to play.”

Gaping at you, the pieces clicked into place so suddenly and sharply that he nearly flinched in surprise. “You stopped taking Prozium.”

“Like you did.”

“How long?”

“Long enough.” You set the glass down. “So I ask you again: Why are you here?”

He swallowed thickly again, gulped greedily at the glass to lubricate his dry mouth and scratchy throat. Staring down at his hands clutching the cup, he started, “I was thinking of you…”

“Thinking of me?”

He jerked his head in a nod. “I thought…that you would be reeling from the Prozium withdrawals.”

“And you wanted to what?”

“To…to help you through it.”

You nodded. “That was noble of you. But it seems I’m the one who has to help you through yours.”

“What?”

You reached out and swept your fingertips across his slick brow. They came away shiny with sweat, beads of it rolling down your fingers. John cringed at the sight of it, then wondered what exactly cringing meant.

“You’re here,” you murmured, “because you want to know if I have been thinking of you.”

His breath caught again, not least of all because you had entered his personal space.

Then your lips were on his, gently kissing him and sending a shock through his system. He almost couldn’t respond, paralyzed by the sparks that flew down his nerves.

You pulled back just as his mind began to make sense of it, a soft smile tugging at your mouth. “Muddies the brain, doesn’t it?”

He could only manage a jumpy nod.

“I have thought of you. I never could’ve imagined that all of this would happen.” You gestured vaguely at the window in your living room toward the commotion confined outdoors. “I thought I’d have to live with a dream of you rather than experience the real thing.” Your fingertips ghosted along his jaw.

“This isn’t a dream,” he whispered back. It was nearly a question, perhaps some reassurance for him rather than reassurance for you.

“Doesn’t that make you…happy?”

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “Yes, I think that’s it.”

You leaned forward, ghosting over his mouth with yours, and asked, “Let’s confirm it, shall we?”

#John Preston x Reader #John Preston #John Preston imagine #Christian Bale x Reader #Christian Bale #Christian Bale imagine #Equilibrium #Equilibrium (2002) #requests

[minaofmayhem]

CHRISTIAN BALE MASTERLIST

Here are all my stories and imagines about the beautiful Christian Bale.Enjoy 💕

HIMSELF

#6 - Proud of you 

You are an actress and you win the Oscars for the leading role for your new movie. You are with your husband Christian to enjoy this special night.

#14 - Foreign Country 

It’s summer and this year, Christian decided to make a surprise for your vacations. He organized a little surprise for you...

#15 - The in-laws 

You meet Christian’s parents for the first time and you are quite stressed...

#16 - Barbecue 

You are at a barbecue party with some friends and Christian decides to make a great announcement...

#20 - Bowling alley 

If you want to have fun, you only need bowling alley…and Christian Bale! 

#25 - Birthday Party - (smut)

One of your friend invite you at a party and this is the perfect moment to conclude something that crossed your mind a few moments ago…

#26 - The Couch - (smut)

Christian is working so hard these days, preparing himself for his next role, but you have the perfect idea to relax him…

#27 - Baby shower 

You organized a baby shower to celebrate the coming of your future baby but a little incident happen and you panic. Luckily, Christian is here to comfort you.

#28 - The lake 

Summer camp near the lake, terrifying stories around the fire while eating marshmallows, friends and of course, your crush…Will you get his attention and his heart ?

#50 - Better than reading

You work at the public library. Being a great bookworm, your work is very important to you. The problem is that it sometimes takes up a lot of your time. Christian, your boyfriend, decides to surprise you…

MOVIES

Bruce Wayne/Dark Knight Trilogy

#24 - Cabin - (smut)

Tired of your husband’s absences, he knows he has to make amends so he plans a little trip on the Wayne’s cabine for your wedding’s anniversary.

TAG LIST

Let me know if you want to join the team 😀

@kittenlittle24​ ; @christianbalefanatic​

#Christian Bale #christian bale masterlist #masterlist

[kiernanshayemckay]

Christian Bale photographed by Robert Erdmann for GQ (2001)

#christian bale #Robert Erdmann #gq #gq magazine #2001 #2000s #early 2000s #2000s actors #2000s icons #2000s hollywood #young christian bale #bale head #my edit #christianbalefanatic