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dorminchu · 2 years

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The Gentle Hum of Anxiety [Part 1]

03/03/22: Revised for pacing/exposition's sake.

Fandom: James Bond Characters: Lyutsifer Safin, Madeleine Swann Relationships: Lyutsifer Safin & Madeleine Swann, Lyutsifer Safin/Madeleine Swann Warnings: None, for now. Rating: T Genre: Angst/Romance Summary: In his hands, the mask can only ever be a tool to inspire fear; she hangs it on her office wall as a declaration of war. [AU]

[Ao3 Link]

A mashup of No Time to Die and my own continuity in Insult to Injury that doesn't quite reveal the plot of the latter; however, the names Phidian and Barlett both come from the film On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Shout-out to the IRL buddy who reads these Bond fics over, who also recommended the Bruce Timm comic that inspired this alternate take on Safin and Madeleine's reunion. You're the real MVP.

I swiped a good chunk of the dialogue from NTTD's script, but I promise it will diverge pretty hard by the next chapter. Fic title comes from the aptly-named track to The Social Network.

After so many years spent looking over her shoulder, between Oxford and the Sorbonne, she is out of her father's shadow with a doctorate, and her pride. Ironic, that she should retreat into perhaps the last place anyone would think to search—a five-hour drive from the old cabin in Altaussee. Hiding in plain sight, away from SPECTRE and men in suits that follow her down the street on foot, in unmarked cars. There are no strange calls to her burner phone, nor the tidy one-room apartment out in Sölden.

Contrasting her previous job at a smaller, friendlier clinic in Belgium, the Hoffler Klinik is stark and modern, carved into the summit of the Gaislachkogel as like an effigy.

Madeleine reinvents herself. Always amiciable with her clients and the staff. Only her secretary Sophia insists upon inviting her out to dinner every other week on the pretense of rote, easy socialization. Madeleine is leery but not prone to improprieties. Sophia is old enough to be her mother and all of her friends are around the same age. She, like Madeleine, keeps no pictures on her desk. Madeleine will be twenty-six in ten months. She has colleagues, not friends. Affairs, once in a blue moon, when she cannot stand the immaculate quiet of her livingspace. A false name and appropriate lodgings at a hotel, and come next morning no one is the wiser.

"I always see you upstairs," says the man working behind the juice bar. He's wearing a tag that says Phidian. "What brings you down here, Dr Swann?"

It's another sunny afternoon. Diamonds by Rihanna is playing on the speakers. The sound reverberates off the wall-length windows, adjacent to the bar. If she turns her head just so the snowcaps turn blinding.

"I thought that I would try something a little different today."

Ordinarily, she is content to confine herself within the office during lunch-hours; through glass, the rotation of coworkers and patients becomes a private exhibition. But even that gets rote after a while.

Phidian nods. "Oh, uh. Now that you're here, there's something you might want to know." Madeleine glances up. "I know we, uh, don't talk much."

"There is no need."

"Well, just between you and me I think you should know. There was this woman came by the other day. Older, dyed orange hair. You know her?"

Madeleine pauses. “Ms. Bartlett? Her husband is one of my clients.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Your name came up.”

“Something terrible?”

“Well, uh, she said your office is like a funeral home.”

Madeleine blinks. “Sorry?”

“Hey, I’m just paraphrasing. She didn’t have a problem with you.”

Madeleine permits a dry smile. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

And Madeleine takes some time out of her day, over the following week, to rearrange her furnishings to appear more lively. She gets a vase and flowers. Opens the blinds to let some sun in; the entire wall is a window. Her efforts go unnoticed by clientele who want to talk about their poor life choices instead of her tasteful choice in decor, and definitely don’t want to squint against the sun in their eyes.

Cut to a week later, and Madeleine is left sulking at her desk. No one can have it all, but it doesn’t sting any less.

Her latest client, Safin, is more of a mystery. She asks Sophia what he does for a living and the phrase independent contractor rings a bell; possbly ex-military? According to Sophia he requested her specifically, which is a little flattering. Her primary clientele these days are businessmen looking for easy outs or settlements. Substance abuse is common. There is the occasional issue with a spouse. Sometimes all-of-the-above.

The last military figure she was in contact with was her father; though they haven’t spoken since she graduated Oxford.

The pager on her desk beeps. Sophia. The patient has arrived. Madeleine catches sight of the man through the windows. All in black, contrasting the muted greys and blues of the Klinik’s walls. He’s talking to Sophia, but looks over in the direction of her office and his eyes rest on her. Even at a distance, there is something about his expression that gives her pause.

“Send him in.”

Stepping into her office, this man is in every sense an antithesis. Black coat buttoned up to his throat, gloves, boots—her attention holds briefly upon the grisly scarring across his face.

“Safin, is it?” He nods politely. Her attention falls next to the dark wooden box under his arm. “And this?”

“A memory box.” His voice comes as if from a dead throat. Madeleine falters. His black eyes flicker to the naked surface of the desk, then her face. “If I may?”

“Of course.” He sets it down gently. “Have a seat and we’ll begin.”

He crosses the space in a few strides, though his gait drags slightly against the polished floor on every other step. Could be a simple physical deformity, as with the scarring. The result of injuries sustained in combat. But there is a litheness to his movements. As he takes a seat, his eyes shift around the room. There is a mod table in the center of the floor; on its face, a white ceramic bowl of nondescript pink candies that hasn't been touched in a week. A vase of Digitalis purpurea rests on a tasteful end-table to the right of her desk. Hanging on the wall behind her head, the analog clock, ticking down. He reinitiates eye-contact.

“You’re very attractive for a psychotherapist. Must be dangerous for your clients.”

It is stated plainly, without any sentiment. His eyes are fixed on her face. Madeleine pauses. “They are usually more of a danger to themselves.”

He holds her gaze for a few seconds more. Then looks past her, unaffected by shame.

“Foxgloves. Beautiful.” His tone brightens. “Did you choose them?”

Madeleine, despite herself, smiles. “Yes, I find them friendly.”

“You know,“ he leans forward slightly, as if disclosing something pertinent, “if you eat them, they can cause your heart to just…” he wavers in place but it is not unmindful or unmediated “…stop.

His sense of amusement is like a small boy’s. Madeleine, half-amused herself, concedes, “Then, I’ll make sure not to.” His eyes keep their shine but he resumes his initial, reserved posture. The silence holds. He isn't looking away. She says, “Do you know a lot about flowers?”

“My father had a garden. He taught me.” A crease forms in his brow. “He died when I was young, but my interest… remained.”

Madeleine nods, empathetic. “It’s difficult to lose a parent, especially at a young age.”

“Yes. Death has a particular effect on children.” He inclines his head slightly. “Doesn’t it?”

Something tugs at the back of her mind. She relaxes her shoulders voluntarily. “What effect did it have on you?”

“Profound.” His attention on her now is direct. There is no impatience in his tone, only quiet deliberation. “But, I saved a life once. I think that had more of an effect.”

“Why is that?”

“Saving someone’s life connects you to them forever. The same as taking it. They belong to you.”

The silence is suffocating. It swallows her whole.

Safin averts his eyes first. “I’m… not very good at talking about myself. So, I brought…” he motions to the desk with a gloved hand, “I thought it might interest you.”

Madeleine shrugs. “Sometimes objects can me more evocative than memories.”

There is a light in his eyes like a wolverine’s.

She looks down at the box. Polished wood. She opens the lid, and—

Her breath catches.

The lid falls with a dull clatter.

Her vision blurs. Blinking back tears. Her throat tightens.

When she looks up he is there, still. A dark smear against the sunshine resolves into the familiar, human shape.

“I never forgot your eyes under the ice. They needed me.” The tone is without any trace of joy, or humor. It could, in less stringent care, be mistaken for sympathy. “It is a shock to see them so many years later. They still need me. I am rather… taken by them.”

She cannot simply scramble for her father’s Beretta 92 under the cabinet. She clutches the box in white-knuckled hands. Residual shock gives way to the sound of blood in her ears. The little girl in front of her father, flushed hands clenched around the metal gun, whispering, l'homme masqué, il m'a sauvé la vie.

The sight of her own teardrop upon the porcelain causes her to look up. Faced again with the sum of countless nightmares—to a child, he has always been intangible, a timeless boogeyman. His name is Lyutsifer Safin. He is thirty-four. His hands rest idle on his knees while he takes in the breadth of her reaction, but the eyes look past her into a place she cannot yet reach.

“You murdered my mother.”

Safin’s expression darkens. “And your father killed my entire family.” His shoulders lift and fall. “Parents.”

It is his impudence that breaks the spell. Her lip curls, baring teeth. “A box and a theater mask. After all these years, that is your idea of intimidation?”

He frowns. “You never saw my face. I feared you would not recognise me.”

“I am not a little girl anymore,” she says coldly. As if the words alone are acerbic, enough to scar him twice over. “Or did you think I could be cowed by the mere sight of you?”

Safin looks at her for all the world like she is being pedantic. She scoffs and shoves the lid closed. Her hands are trembling. She cannot call security. If he has found her here, he will find her again. She cannot fold. She swallows past the bile rising in her throat.

I never forgot you, either.

“I did not think we would ever meet again.” Safin holds her gaze without blinking. “After all this time, you come into my life, to invade the only place I may have any peace. Why?”

“My own curiosity. Nothing more.”

“You would make a mockery of me for curiosity’s sake?”

He frowns. “We understand each other well enough. There is no need for mockery.”

She should have emptied the clip into his head, seventeen years ago. But she was not her father then, or now. Her weapon of choice is poise. “If you are here as an outpatient, then you understand that, no matter your background, cooperation is necessary if I am to determine the root of your… condition.”

On the last word, something surfaces in his eyes. Like the disturbance of silt under a riverbed, churning up the decay beneath. His hand draws a fist against the opposite palm, but his voice is unmoved. “If that is your wish.”

The silence holds. His eyes are easier to read. Venomous. Madeleine swallows dryly. “There is nothing else you would like to discuss?”

“I think not.”

“Then you will return promptly next week. We will discuss this further.”

“Of course, Dr Swann.”

He stands, poised to leave. No fleeting words to further tear into her psyche. He simply turns and walks out of her office. Through the window she watches him exchange a few words with the secretary while her heart hammers against her ribs. He glances back; her heart is in her throat. His figure retreats, vanishing from sight. No longer just a half-remembered dream.

Madeleine draws the blinds. Her hands shake. Sitting at her desk in a sunless room, head between her knees. She could call in sick and it wouldn’t be a lie. There is no small chance that he will be waiting for her to balk, flee and do—God knows what. The fact that he agreed to a second meeting is a sign, but of what, it is too early to say. If she plays her cards right, he will have no choice but to trust her word.

Much like the residue of human entrails and blood against wood, or your grandmother’s suede armchair, there are some stains you cannot scrub out.

She stows the memory box in her drawer after some consideration.

#madeleine swann #ruby bartlett #phidian #lyutsifer safin #mr. white gets namechecked #pre-spectre #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #no time to die spoilers #honestly this is STILL about as romantic as manhunter (1986)... we've come full circle #sorry for the repost I was miffed with the adhd like flow of scene transitions and exposition #pretend phidian is played by... idk mid 2000s paul dano #I am running on four hours of sleep as I post this but I will get more #might rewatch tdk & tdkr... for the mood yknow?

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herradhighpriestess · 3 years

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Deliberate Exchange

Chapter Ten: The Woman Made of Money

As Elka stared down at her burnt hand which throbbed in time with her heartbeat, back in the maze of the Gotham City sewers, Esau scoured street footage in search of Bane fleeing with the financial ice queen. It would end up taking him hours to zoom in on the plates and expand his search. As he started the search process, back in the missing, moving truck, Elka stifled a yawn with her good hand before she spoke.

“That’s good,” she said tiredly, “will you be stopping at the store first? I need some kind of antibiotic cream and gauze.”

“There’s a shopping center coming up, but first I’m going to need you to understand a few things before you get out of this truck.”

“And what is it that I need to grasp?” She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice but her aching palm enhanced her every sense.

Bane ignored her tone as he spoke. “I’m going to allow you out of the truck without your word that you will not draw attention to yourself or run. No unnecessary conversation with anyone unless it is to only match courtesy.”

“Anything else?” Elka asked shaking her head and held up her unburned hand before he could reply. “I’m not going to do anything.”

Neither of them exchanged further words as he continued at a good traffic-free pace to the parking lot of the big-box retailer.

“Are you ready?” he asked as he put the truck in park and pulled a blue hat with a professional football team’s logo from behind the seat and handed it to her. “Put this on.”

He watched her tuck her hair under the cap as he continued. “I’m not going to be able to accompany you,” he murmured and passed her a battered watch. “You have ten minutes, I don’t want to threaten you, but I need to understand that you’re going to be back in nine.”

Elka nodded and pushed open the heavy passenger side door. She slipped the money he handed her in his pocket, as he watched her walk away, she counted out the bills to find forty-four dollars.

The store was too bright from the combination of the white paint on every wall and fluorescent lighting overhead. She maneuvered the blue plastic cart through the wide aisles and got what she perceived, as necessary.

The check stand was devoid of people and Elka was glad to get back to the truck, her fatigue was overwhelming, and the vivid lighting and gaudy colors of the stuffed shelves had made her nauseous.

Bane let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding when she reappeared through the automatic doors. He pushed open the door and let the seat fall forward so she could put the bags on the floorboard. He watched her sort through the bags and set aside a soda, bottle of water, tube of burn ointment and roll of cotton gauze.

“It’s not much further,” he said in an assuring tone once they were settled with the large engine idling. The heater was old and took a few minutes for her to feel her chills lift. Before he left the parking lot, he plucked the gauze from her shaky unburned hand and applied a thick layer of translucent ointment before loosely wrapping her hand in the post-surgical wrap.

“Not much further,” he repeated as Elka nodded wordlessly and drank deeply from the cold water.

The hotel was sprawling and painted in warm tones and boasted a South Western theme. “I’m going to park in the garage,” he said and turned into the five-story structure adding. “I need you to stay here while I get the room key, there’s a lot of potential witnesses in there.”

“But I went to that store,” she rebutted.

“No one pays attention in those stores, but I need your attention now.”

“You have it,” she said and turned her eyes towards him.

“You need to tell me that you’re going to stay put until I return.”

“I promise,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Elka I need you to be serious.”

“I am, I’ll be right here when you get back,” she said and patted the seat with her good hand.

Bane nodded satisfactorily and she watched in rapt fascination as he efficiently unloaded a syringe into the large muscle of his thigh and slipped his mask free. He looked over at she stared at his transformation as he slipped into a button-down silk shirt and pulled a coordinating tie into a neat double-Windsor knot. “I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention,” he said as her expression showed how much she was enjoying the makeover.

He spared her a final glance and walked quickly to the check-in desk. He was relieved to find a hotel staffer that was expedient, and he was soon returning to the truck with a royal blue electronic key.

He hid his relief when he saw Elka in the same spot when he returned. “Room 808,” he said as he opened her door.

Bane loaded up the lion’s share of their baggage and they found the elevator to the fourth floor and quickly walked across the parking lot.

Elka followed Bane up the hotel’s nondescript staircase and watched him slide the plastic room key into the card reader of room 808. He pulled down on the pewter handle when the light blinked green three times in rapid succession.

Elka blew out a hard breath which was louder than she intended. Bane turned and looked at her when her sigh sounded loudly.

“It’s safe here,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. Elka felt the warmth from his fingertips through her clothes and forced a tight smile.

Bane held open the door and watched her look around the spacious suite, surprised that behind the nondescript door and benign keycard was such a vast wall-to-wall carpeted vision of a room.

“This is amazing,” she said as she dropped a paper shopping bag on a low table in the tiled entryway of the suite and walked across the carpet of the living room that was dominated by a wood burning fireplace.

Bane hung back in the doorway as she walked into the large bedroom that had soft lighting and smooth satin bedding in deep, warm colors that celebrated the birth of autumn. She didn’t offer a verbal comment on the bedroom and instead slipped into the bathroom that boasted stacks of folded high thread count towels and matching bathmats.

She felt her lips curve into a smile as her eyes fell upon a large woven basket that was adorned with a large gold bow and filled with bath oils, floral soaps, and other botanical bath products.

Elka was in the middle of twisting off the cap of a rose scented bottle of bubble bath when Bane’s voice echoed in the open bathroom. His soft words broke her away from deeply inhaling the delicate scent of the exotic and designer blush pink gel.

“How are you feeling?”

She shrugged before replying and glanced again at her watch. “I think it’s about time for something stronger to drink than coffee.”

He smiled at her continued forced enthusiasm and watched her twist the bottle closed and replace it gingerly with the other tubes of floral lotion and smoothing body creams. Elka slowly walked towards him and he casually stepped over to block her path. She gave a half-hearted attempt to push past him, not thinking that being so close to him would mean being wrapped up in the intoxicating aroma of his warm skin.

“Can I get past?”

“No.”

“Please?”

He leaned closer to her; his breath hot along the line of her jaw as she turned her face away from him.

“No.”

Bane prevented any forward progress and she avoided his eyes while memorizing the feel of his shirt under her fingertips. She opened her mouth to speak and then imagined what she would sound like, she feared the naked vulnerability.

There was no way past him. “What then?”

“Did you notice that bed’s a lot roomier than the sleeping bag?”

“I hadn’t really noticed that,” she lied and shifted nervously in front of his looming frame.

“Take your time cleaning up, take a long bath and then come to bed.”

“You don’t just have sleeping on your mind right now do you?”

“You know, you never did tell me how many times you and your…. husband shared, the martial bed.”

Elka ran her unscathed hand through her hair and couldn’t keep the startled expression from filling her face. “I didn’t keep a tally,” she said as she shook her head and sat heavily on the edge of the bathtub, finding she couldn’t breathe standing so close to him.

“An average then, about how many times a week Elka?”

“I don’t know, not a lot.”

“I’m trying to be patient Elka, how often?”

“We didn’t okay, didn’t past a few times okay, we had an arrangement.”

Bane couldn’t keep his own surprised expression under wraps at her words and didn’t have to wait long for her to elaborate. She tried to appear casual as she attempted to explain her marriage.

“I did get pregnant when Cal and I had a bit too much to drink at that stupid gala. He was running for his first seat on the bench after the previous conservative judge had passed from a sudden heart attack. An unwanted pregnancy or bastard child wouldn’t do it for Cal, and he thinks abortion is the absolutely worst thing imaginable. We don’t really like each other much but,” Elka trailed off as Bane’s gaze seemed to see inside to the very chambers of her rapidly beating heart.

“But what Elka?” he murmured from the doorway, fighting the urge to cross to her, kneel in front of her and promise a better arrangement, something real.

“We don’t see eye to eye on much, but we got married for the sake of optics. It was a lovely wedding, but I miscarried ten days after we moved into the penthouse.”

She snorted back a laugh and shook her head. “I was writing out the thank-you cards for the wedding gifts and was in the intensive care unit six hours later, lost the baby and the ability to ever conceive again.”

“I’m sorry Elka,” he finally whispered.

“Don’t be,” she said quickly. “It was really for the best, after that, Calvin and I just agreed to carry on socially as husband and wife but essentially live our own lives, being discreet when it comes to matters that could potentially cause embarrassment.”

“He’s discreet with his lovers?”

Elka shrugged, “as much as he can be, I guess, he hasn’t been rocked by any scandals.”

“How about you?”

“What?”

“Do you have any discreet lovers?”

Elka chuckled, “no, nothing like that.”

“You don’t long for someone? A partner, companion?”

Bane sharpened his gaze as his words fell on her ears. She blushed under the sharp intensity from his eyes.

“I guess, I just, never met that kind of person,” she said slowly and looked down at her feet.

“It’s a delicious feeling when you do meet that person,” he whispered and walked slowly towards her and knelt at her feet. Bane listened to the hitch in her breathing when he placed a hand on either side of the tub’s ledge, trapping her in place.

Her pulse quickened at his close proximity and she was unable to keep from raising her unburned hand to press against his chest.

At her touch, Bane’s head turned into a raging, frothing sea of emotions, he managed to keep it reined in and dropped a hand to close around her wrist. Elka bit back a gasp as he pressed his lips to her smooth palm, his voice was a warm, tickling on her skin. “May I be that person for you Elka? The one to keep you safe and fulfill your….needs?”

“That’s a lot to absorb,” she forced herself to say without a scoff as his hands landed on her hips and squeezed urgently.

“Do I repulse you that much?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“What is it then?” he asked as he grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles gently. She held her breath as he didn’t release her, instead he moved her hand down the front of his body, landing on his growing rigidity.

“Don’t I make you feel safe? Don’t I make your body feel good?”

“He does make you feel safe,” she thought to herself. Elka’s mind was activity churning and urgently added, “he will keep you safe and you might grow to crave his touch, but above else you’ll be alive.”

“Yes,” she whispered raggedly, resignation making her limbs feel cement laden.

Bane leaned back and looked at her, she tried to make her tone light despite her inner feelings, fears, and emotions. “Yes?” he parroted.

“Yes.”

“Take some time to clean-up, we can talk more later. Would you like dinner from room service too?”

“Yes, please,” she said with embarrassing enthusiasm, “spaghetti and meatballs or any kind of pasta.”

Bane traced his fingertips along her culinary inspired smile, “it’ll be waiting for you,” he whispered and kissed her forehead leaving her to fill the tub and adorn the hot, flowing water with botanical bath foams and oils.

He ordered the food as she soaked in the perfumed water, adding a rare ribeye and baked potato for himself. He longed to join her; a jolt shot to his core every time he heard the water splash along her wet, naked skin.

Bane forced himself to sit on the edge of the firm king mattress and wait in excruciating physical want and need until he simultaneously heard the water begin to drain from the tub and the quick knock on the door with their piping hot room service dinner.

Elka came out of the bathroom to find a plate of spaghetti covered with a thick red sauce and plump meatballs waiting for her. They ate in a comfortable silence; she was surprised at how hungry she was and was soon dragging her bread across the sauce-covered plate to soak up the olive oil and garlic remnants.

Bane smiled at her dinner appreciation and sliced his steak into thick ribbons that leeched blood into his neat pile of seasonal vegetables. He picked up the remote control and aimed it at the flat screen television, the channel was preset to the news and they were both met with the tail end of Chief Justice Calvin Green’s plea for the return of his beloved missing wife.

“Can you please turn that off or change the channel?”

Bane wisely didn’t tease or offer a verbal comment, he clicked the arrow up button and soon the screen was filled with a popular cop movie and its infamous car chase scene in full high definition.

Bane watched her suppress a yawn with the back of her bandaged hand.

“Come lay down.”

Elka put her plate aside and brushed breadcrumbs off her lap. She felt her nerves idiotically embarrassing her.

He came around the side of the bed and pulled back the linen, “let me make you feel good.”

Elka kicked off her shoes and slipped under the covers. Bane felt himself grow hard enough to be uncomfortable behind his zipper as she rolled onto her side, facing away from him.

He slid across the mattress until he could smooth his hand down her outer arm and slip to settle on her waist.

He squeezed her side and nuzzled his face in the back of her neck, inhaling deeply and catching a light floral scent from the hotel’s shampoo.

Bane pressed his lips against her head and their collective respiratory rate increased as his fingertips reached the top of her panties. He dipped his fingertips lower and brushed against the thin layer of fabric that covered her femininity.

Elka squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a slow-building blush as he slid his hand down the front of the thin fabric of her panties to cup a hand against her warm intimacy. Elka gasped at the sudden feel of his intimate touch. An involuntarily moan escaped her lips as Bane started to probe her delicate folds with his fingertips.

“Turn over,” he demanded huskily and watched conflicting thoughts wash across her face as he traced his fingertips along her, one fingertip came to rest against her clit and began to tease the nerve cluster. Her blush flared to life as she felt a rush of wetness under his touch, but she couldn’t seem to drop her gaze. He increased his gentle rhythm on her nerve center until he felt it start to harden under his caress.

Bane never stopped touching her as he shifted and insinuated himself further between her thighs as he rested more of his lower body against hers.

Elka felt her body betray her as her pelvis lifted into his touch, Bane dropped his head and buried his face against her neck. He could hear her breath increasing as she tried to keep from squeezing her thighs tightly around his waist.

As she tried to shake her head and not focus on the growing heaviness that had started in her lower belly and only bloomed further under his attention, he dropped his free hand to his zipper and freed his hardening cock.

Elka didn’t fight him as he pulled her sweatpants down the sides of her thighs. She found a strangled gasp tear its way from her throat as he curled his fingertips around the top of her panties and pulled the fabric free from her body.

He let his fingertips dance from her hips to the inside of her thighs and push them further apart. Bane growled with feral delight as her femininity was exposed to his gaze and he lowered his mouth to the apex at the top of her thighs.

Elka found herself only able to speak in low moans as she felt Bane’s mouth and tongue tickle and explore her wet and delicate folds. He found himself relishing in the sounds he was able to manifest from his varying touches and caresses.

Elka’s thighs began to shake as she neared release and Bane finally had to give into his body’s growing and unrelenting need. He rose up and kept the majority of his weight on his elbows as he let his engorged and painfully erect cock tease at her wet opening.

Elka looked down and felt a rush of wetness when her eyes found his stiffness. She looked back up and met his eyes as she let him push her thighs further apart and allowed him to rub his rigid length flush against her body.

Bane’s cock grew hard until it ached against the inside of her thigh as he ran a fingertip across her slick folds and the cluster of nerves that hardened under his touch and forced a low cry from her.

“Tell me you want me,” Bane rasped in a thickened voice

His voice found her as he increased the rhythm of his fingertip on her swollen, sensitive clit. “Tell me.”

Elka gave the barest of nods as he traced the rough pads of his fingertips down the side of her face. “I want you,” she gasped breathlessly as he dropped his head and caught one of her hardening nipples in his mouth.

She was only capable of gasping and giving a low moan when he eased his entire length inside of her. Elka felt the sudden fullness as her body struggled to accommodate him, she felt his strength and power as he shifted and started to move in a slow and even rhythm supporting most of his weight on his elbows.

He continued moving at a gentle rhythm, his body aching for release. Each time he sheathed himself into her his body begged for him to climax. While Bane willed his control to hold fast, he resumed the slow circles against her sensitive nub of flesh.

Elka felt near overwhelmed at the feel of his body sliding in and out of her and the feelings he was creating with his touch. She felt herself tumble into a chasm of electric bliss as her climax took over her body and soon Bane fell into the well of ecstasy after her.

She felt his body slowly lose its rigidity and he withdrew.

“Are you okay?” Bane asked in a strained voice, still riding out the post-coital wave of pleasure. Elka nodded, her ability to articulate words momentarily hobbled as the remnants of her orgasmic explosion electrically jumped in her lower belly and shot throughout her limbs.

“So,” Bane said softly, kissing the tip of her nose, “where would you like to go for our first date?”

Elka’s lips broke into a genuine smile as he added. “It can’t be in public or anywhere but this room for now.”

Bane rejoiced inside at her small laugh and flash of sparkle in her eyes, “then, right here I guess,” she said patting the top of the mattress.

Elka felt a sudden rise in her embarrassment when he brushed his fingertips through her hair. She felt a tremble when his rough fingers started at her scalp and slid to the ends of her silken strands as he dropped his head and whispered above her lips. “We can still enjoy the evening here, another dinner from room service.”

She watched the muscle next to his eye twitch before he blew out a heavy breath and reached for his mask he had left within arm’s reach. Elka watched him affix his mask back in place before what she could see of his expression turned solemn, “there’s something sensitive I need to ask you.”

Elka surprised him with a scoff, “what could I possibly be shocked at by anymore?”

“I need all of your attention right now,” he said with no inflection to his voice, the lack of tone killed her laughter.

“You have it.”

“If what you said about your husband and marriage are true, why assign a number for dating? Why five?”

Elka shrugged, “it sounded like a good number. Not too prudish or slutty.”

He laughed genuinely, “what about finding the pictures and stating that he was cheating?” he asked, squeezing her tighter. “You could’ve told me the truth in the first place.”

Elka shrugged, “it’s a habit I guess, I wrote and memorized the script.”

“Did you alter the truth on anything else you said?”

“I sense you have something specific in mind,” she whispered and shifted against him, feeling his softening cock pressed to the inside of her thigh.

“Did you withhold the truth about taking a lover?”

“I have not slept with anyone since that open bar gala.”

Bane tried to keep the relief off his face, he felt the truth in her words and in her body. “In your alternative version of the truth, you said it was five dates until intimacy.”

Elka nodded and he continued.

“How long until he earned your heart?”

“He’s never had that,” she said strongly.

“Has anyone?”

Elka ignored his question, “what about you? How many have your shared your life and love with?”

“I can’t recall a single feature of any face,” Bane said immediately. “There hasn’t been anyone who has held a shred of meaning or value.” His frontal lobe tried to paint a mural of Talia’s face behind his eyes, tried to insist that he loved the woman he nearly lost his life in Pena Dura for. “I do not love that woman,” he seethed to his mind on a wash of chilly darkness.

“No one?” she whispered and pressed her unburned palm over his heart.

Bane wordlessly dropped his head to the curve of her neck, “could you love me?” She grew still as his whispered words filled her ear, “be only mine?”

He raised his face to scrutinize her, he could nearly see how his questions had shaken her, starkly and suddenly exposed her. Elka felt further vulnerability nearly swallow her whole, she couldn’t look away from him. Bane wanted her to speak and pressed her further with his uncomfortable questions.

“Have you Elka, have you given anyone your heart?”

Biting her lower lip, she took a small breath and shook her head. “No.”

“No?” he asked with genuine astonishment.

“No,” she repeated on an exhale and felt a shudder pass through her under his heavy gaze.

It seemed a long time until he spoke, before he did, he slid his hand to the back of her head and cradled her skull. He wove his fingertips in her hair and pulled her as close as he could.

“That makes me very happy to hear Elka,” he murmured against the crown of her head. The strands of her hair rubbing against the titanium mesh front of his mask.

As she let herself get wrapped up in Bane’s embrace, back in the sewer system all hell was breaking loose. Esau had rounded up everyone when he found Bane missing along with the abducted financial whore and he had eyes moving out in every direction.

The other highly paid men gathered around Esau as he pulled up the last known coordinates that Bane’s satellite phone had pinged.

What no one knew made the search-and-destroy mission to find Bane and Elka start in the completely wrong direction. Bane had attached his sat phone to the large wheel of a large semi heading out of the big-box retailer parking lot. Esau was currently tracking the large commercial eighteen-wheeler as it headed to the heart of the Midwest and the company’s headquarters.

As the brightly painted truck merged onto the highway, back in the penthouse suite, Judge Calvin Green awoke with a platinum blonde tucked against his side. He frowned for a minute and rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember the blonde’s name, where he met her and how much he’d had to drink.

As Calvin yawned deeply and felt nausea settle over him, back in the spacious hotel room, Elka let her body relax under his touch and Bane’s hands which roamed along the peaks and valleys of her bare skin.

“I want your heart,” Bane whispered against her warm skin. “I want you to give me all of your love.”

He watched emotions fill her eyes as she tried to look away.

“Talk to me,” he demanded in the wake of her silence, trailing his fingertips along her jawline.

Elka shook her head, “it’s just a lot to take in, it’s overwhelming.”

Bane watched her expression shift as she added, “it’s not like it even matters what I have to say though.”

“Why do you say that?”

Elka frowned at him, still so aware of his warm embrace and being pressed against his body. “Well, you already told me that I wouldn’t be returning to my previous life.”

Before Bane could speak, she quickly lifted her hand and placed her fingers against the mesh front of his mask. “I’m not saying I want to return to my life before, I’m just asking for some patience while I work through….accepting this.”

Elka left her fingertips on the front of his mask as he stared down at her wordlessly for what seemed like a long time.

He captured her hand and squeezed it urgently. “We started in fear, but I’ll do anything you need in order for you to feel comfortable with me and your new life.”

Elka felt a blush fill her face and spread down her neck and chest at the intensity of his gaze, she cleared her throat but couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.

“Anything,” Bane repeated as dropped his head to the flushed skin at the curve of her neck.

Elka spoke while Bane’s hot exhale through the front of his mask teased along her skin. “The things you say, how can you?”

“What do you mean, how can I?” he asked lifting his head to look at her.

She found herself stumbling over her words and unable to form a coherent sentence.

She felt her self-consciousness fill and wash over her and tried to move out of his formidable embrace.

“No,” Bane said in a dangerous tone and pulled her impossibly close.

He felt the panic surging throughout her limbs as she dropped her chin and desperately tried to ignore the weight of his body and his hot exhale as he put his fingers under her chin and lifted firmly. Elka squeezed her eyes shut. “Do not turn away from me,” Bane whispered raggedly, keeping her solidly locked in his arms.

“Talk to me,” he reiterated urgently, watching distress fill her face. She shook her head slightly, refusing to open her eyes and look at him. “I just don’t know if I trust you entirely, I’m afraid of you,” she admitted in a low tone.

Bane slightly relaxed his hold on her, allowing her to take a deeper breath. He took a moment to revel in the remnants of her taste on his lips and the scent of her nearly overwhelming his ability to speak.

“I regret the pain I’ve caused you, the fear I’ve created in here,” he murmured, brushing his fingertips along her closed eyelids, “and in here,” he added laying his palm on the warm skin above her rapidly beating heart.

“How can I take away your fear? “Gain your trust?” Bane added when she remained silent. He was relieved she had opened her eyes as she regarded him guardedly.

Elka willed herself to relax in his strong embrace, she pushed out a slow exhale and met his eyes.

“I honestly don’t know if there’s some sort of starting place at this point, but I do know that I’d like to trust you,” she said and continued in the blush of a whisper. “I’d like to stop being afraid.”

Bane absorbed the wash of her vulnerable words as she added, “can we just stay like this for a while, talk more later?”

“Yes,” he murmured and watched a modicum of relief bleed into her eyes. Bane shifted them both until he could pull her body back, molded to the front of his, “there’ll be plenty of time for us to talk.”

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mlmxreader · 8 months

Text

Our Little Game | Bane x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Bane: Hiya! Hope alls well 🖤. May I please give you a request to use the following prompts for big tiddy Bane X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Off ya go, bugger off"+"Don't roll your eyes at me" (Idk, I wanna see a sassy reader with this man 😆) Thank you very much 🖤! 🐍anon

summary: Bane loves you, he just doesn't love your smart mouth.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

By all means, Bane had attempted to be quiet when he snuck into your home in the middle of the night; the dogs greeted him warmly, wagging their tails and trying to lick his hands and his mask, making him laugh softly as he pushed them aside gently.

He shook his head fondly, leaving his boots by the door he had come through before he carefully and expertly made his way through to your bedroom; he made sure to lock the door behind him, swallowing thickly as he crept towards the bed. To his shock, you were wide awake; he had hoped to surprise you, but seeing you awake, it made for a better surprise.

At least if you were awake, you wouldn’t have told him to shove his surprise where the sun didn’t shine; but you didn’t notice he was there with your earphones in and staring at the laptop screen. You were watching something, but he couldn’t see what. He checked his phone, and sent you a text telling you to look away from the screen; when you looked at your phone, it only took a few seconds before your gaze snapped over to Bane; you scoffed.

“I’m watching something,” you told him with a shake of your head. “I’ve been dying to watch it for over a year, so please, fuck off, my love.”

“You’re not even happy to see me,” Bane teased, waiting for you to move over before he clambered on the bed beside you, his arm around your shoulders as he leaned in slightly. “And I put in so much effort.”

“Well, try again tomorrow,” you said seriously. “Off ya go, bugger off, now. Let me watch my thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Watch your mouth, little one.”

“First, don’t roll your eyes at me,” you huffed. “Second, it’s your own fault.”

Bane growled under his breath, grabbing your laptop and gently setting it on the floor before he straddled your waist; his mask felt suffocating, knowing that he could never kiss you like a normal man. He could never bite down and leave his mark all over you for everyone in Gotham to see; for everyone to look at each mark and know that you belonged to Bane, and only Bane.

His mask felt suffocating, knowing that he was limited with what he could do. But he tutted as he shook his head, pinning your arms above your head as he tilted his head to the side; darkness was on his side, as it meant that you couldn’t predict his next move, rendering that smart mouth silent for once.

He let out a soft breath, holding onto your throat with his other hand but not daring to apply any pressure; the line between teasing and threatening increasingly blurred as you licked your lips, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh no, I’ve been caught,” you laughed, sarcasm would only make things worse. “What ever shall I do? Surrender to the big, bad man who broke the Bat’s back?”

Bane shrugged. “You could do that - it would be much easier for us both, little one.”

“I don’t think so, big guy,” you whispered, grinning. You wrenched your hands free from his grip, knowing that it was never exactly a hard grip to begin with. “What are you gonna do? Gag me?”

“I’m considering it,” Bane admitted with a nod. “More and more each time you open that smart mouth.”

You hummed, shaking your head with disappointment. “You won’t muzzle me. You like my smart mouth too much.”

He hated that you were right, sighing heavily as he sat back a little. “Your mouth will be the end of me, my love.”

You shrugged, laughing softly. “You love it, really.”

He sighed heavily. You were right, he hated to admit it, but you were right. He had to find a way to shut you up somehow, so he did the only thing he could think of - and gently, expertly, pressed his mask against your mouth. He felt your hot breath against the metal coming through to his skin, and could tell that you were kissing him back.

Smugly, Bane laughed under his breath as his hands trailed down, grabbing your thighs as he leaned in a little more; it was the best he could do, although he wished that he could kiss you properly. Actually feel your lips on his and taste them. But when you wrapped your arms around him, your hands at the back of his neck, he found he stopped caring; when he pulled back, he brought you with him, lying you down on the bed without even meaning to.

“Is that it?” You asked, raising a brow. “Please tell me there’s more.”

He sighed heavily, wishing he didn’t love you so much. No one else would have gotten away with such backchat, with constantly poking him and chipping away at him until he took the bait; but you knew that Bane would never hurt you, you knew he would never treat you badly.

So you flaunted the fact that you were so immune to his violence, so immune to being killed for things he had killed his henchmen for even thinking. You danced with danger, and every time, you came out on stop.

“Can I watch my thing?” You asked. “C’mon, all you gotta do is bugger off for a bit!”

He grumbled, a long breath leaving him as he fondly shook his head. “What’s the matter? You can’t finish what you started?”

You grinned at him, shaking your head. “You should know better than that, big guy.”

He pressed his hand to your throat again, able to feel your easy and steady pulse. Anyone else’s heart would have been racing like a rabbit’s - but not yours. You knew Bane too well, you knew the game you were playing and the dance you were doing.

He hated that smart mouth of yours, he really did, that smart mouth would undoubtedly get you into trouble one day - but for now, he could laugh softly, and he could keep playing your game.

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dauntless-gothamite · 1 year

Text

Master of Shadows [1/?]

Fandom: DC (Nolanverse; Batman Comics) Pairing: Bane x Fem! Reader Summary: You are a tailor that works for Oswald Cobblepot, also known as the Penguin, who tasks you with making clothes for the abnormally large man who has recently arrived in Gotham, Bane. While working with Bane, you see an opportunity to escape the Penguin, something you have wanted for years, and if you play your cards right, you may just gain your freedom and bond with the handsome man in the mask along the way. A/N: working on another series before finishing Prove Them Wrong is a terrible idea, but I haven’t been able to get this story out of my head. In later chapters I may attempt to write smut for the first time (chapters will be marked as such if there is smut included and I may add *s so people can skip over it, but I’m still undecided on that at the moment).

“Shit,” you swear under your breath as blood pools in a bubble on your skin, painting the finger you’d just pricked with a needle a warm red. You weave the needle into the fabric and leave it dangling before standing up to search for a bandage and curse the Penguin for the millionth time that day. You walk across the room to where the first-aid kit hangs on the wall from an old, rusty nail, take it down, and rifle through the supplies, tossing aside painkillers, tweezers, a thermometer, and sterile gloves, heart sinking as you realize you didn’t replenish the gauze and band-aids after the last time you’d accidentally hurt yourself. With a groan and much internal dread, you exit the room and descend the creaky wooden stairs to search for a band-aid.

At the bottom of the staircase, just as you’re about to dart into the bathroom down the hall to the right, the doorway to Oswald Cobblepot’s office swings open, revealing your boss, dwarfed as he stands beside someone you had never seen before. The first thing you notice about the unfamiliar person is how big they are; their arms are bulging with muscle and you could see his thigh muscles straining against his cargo pants. The second thing you notice about them was the mask covering the lower half of their face and the slight metallic hiss it seemed to make.

You’re about to tell your boss you’re only down here to get a band-aid, but he speaks first. “Aha! If it isn’t just the person I was hoping to see!” He beckons you over to his office and leads you to one of the plush velvet chairs in front of his desk before walking around to sit behind it. “Take a seat. You too, big man,” he says. The man he’d been standing with before you’d entered the room sat in the chair next to you, and the chair creaked with the effort of supporting him. “This is the tailor I was telling you about!” Cobblepot says, pointing to you with a wide smile. “She makes all my suits, which is why I’m the most dapper man around!” You immediately freeze in your seat. If Cobblepot is acting excited about anything other than a visit from his beloved Edward Nygma, it was most certainly bad news, and as much as you want to stay far away from whatever “it” is, it seems like you’re right in the middle of it.

“Y/N, meet Bane,” Cobblepot says with grandeur. You look at the man sitting next to you warily. “Bane only just arrived in Gotham last week, and as the king of this city, I like to know who the big players are, and I think this man is going to bring something new to Gotham that can benefit my circle of friends and colleagues greatly…well I suppose it would be more accurate to say he is going to remove something from Gotham.” Bane nods curtly and crosses his arms, clearly growing tired of the Penguin’s little speech. “Alright, so now to the point of you, little tailor. Well you see, Bane here is a large guy, he has some trouble finding comfortable clothes. So I need you to take his measurements and make a few things for him; I’ll let him specify what they are exactly.” Cobblepot stands and makes for the door to escort you and Bane out of his office, but you don’t move. “Y/N, don’t keep me waiting!” Cobblepot snaps.

Crossing your own arms as you rise from the chair, you take a step towards your boss. “Before I begin working on this…special project,” you start, eyes darting over to Bane before sliding back to Cobblepot. “I want to address the matter of compensation. Making clothes for Bane will require significantly more material as well as more time than your clothes do. With an increased cost of production, the pay should be higher, yes?” you ask, raising a brow as Cobblepot’s own eyebrows slant in anger.

“You are in no position to be making demands, you little-” he snaps before cutting himself off, remembering he has company.

“I also need more band-aids for the first aid kit,” you say, refusing to back down. Cobblepot nods and sends you a withering glare that tells you you’re going to regret opening your mouth before escorting you and Bane to the bottom of the stairwell you had descended not long ago.

“Go take his measurements and compile a list of anything you need that you don’t already have; I’ll have it picked up this evening. And remember my navy and purple suit with the yellow accents needs to be done for tomorrow evening’s function!”

“Yes, boss,” you sigh as he makes his way back into his office and you lead Bane up the stairs.

–

“Stand here please,” you direct Bane as you grab a stepstool, measuring tape, notebook, and pen from around the room. “So, what will I be making for you?” you ask as you flip to a clean page of the notebook.

“The first thing I need is a coat,” he answers, and you take in the sound of his voice for the first time. It has a slight lilting quality but sounds menacing all the same, and the mask gives it a tinny undertone.

You nod and step onto the stool to begin measuring his muscled back over the tight black shirt he wears. “Can you tell me more about the kind of coat you want while I measure?” you ask, using his back to support the notepad as you write down his measurements. He looks over his shoulder at you, glancing down to where you’re writing, but he doesn’t comment.

“I care about functionality,” he starts. “It seems it can get quite cold here in the wintertime,” he continues, and you move around to his front side and ask him to hold his arms straight out to the sides and measure his chest. He looks down at you as you work, and you write down more measurements. Pulling the stool around, you kneel to measure his waist, listening as he finishes describing the coat he wants. You can’t help but notice his stomach is a bit softer than the rest of him, though there is still certainly muscle there, and it brings you a sense of comfort, reassuring you that the man you’re alone with is human. A very large, strong human who could probably kill you faster than you could blink, but human nonetheless.

You stand on the stool to measure his height; he’d mentioned wanting a bit of a longer coat, and just as you’re about to write the measurement down–using his body for support, which he had continued to say nothing about–the door bursts open and a man with reddish-brown hair and a five o’clock shadow shouts “Bane!” Your head snaps up, and you’re about to reprimand him for storming in when your weight tips the stool and you fall. You brace for the impact of the hard floor, but it never comes. Instead, you find yourself in Bane’s arms.

“Thanks,” you blush, and he nods as he sets you down.

“Barsad,” he says, turning to the man who had just stormed in. “I told you I would be out until after dark and not to disturb me. What is it?” Barsad looks between you and Bane, hesitating, but Bane waves him on.

“We have a date problem back at…well, you know. The woman bribed one of the guards, I suspect Ollie, and he let her go.” Your ears perk up at that as you continue to wind the measuring tape back around the round track you keep it on. “And the event is in an hour and a half.”

“Do you still have the dress?” Bane asks, glancing over at you.

“We do; it would be a bit difficult to transport,” Barsad explains. “What are you thinking, boss?”

“This one,” Bane says, nodding to you, is a tailor, so if we took her, she could make a few adjustments on the dress and she could stand in as the date.”

“Hold on,” you say, unable to stand by quietly despite your better judgement. “If I’m possibly going to some mystery event, I’d like to know what it is,” you say, crossing your arms.

“That is none of your concern,” the man, Barsad, says dismissively, about to continue speaking, when Bane holds a hand up and silences him.

“Under normal circumstances, I would agree with you, but this woman is someone we are doing business with, so we will play nice for the time being. And if she is to perform the part well, she should know what she will be doing.”

“I am right here!” you say, causing both men to look at you.

With a deep exhale, Barsad says, “I need someone to take as a plus one to a party tonight, a fancy one.”

You hesitate, wheels spinning in your mind. You know getting involved with whatever these men have going on is a bad idea, but you’re already employed by one of Gotham’s most notorious criminals, so you doubt it can really get much worse. Decision made, you speak up once more. “You wouldn’t happen to be talking about the party at Wayne Manor, would you?” you ask.

“Clever,” Bane says, but you get the feeling he is being condescending, so you send a glare his way. “But you are correct, that is the event.”

“Well…I have always wanted to see the inside of the place,” you admit. “And I’ve been dying to get out of this building for ages!” Bane looks at you in a way you can’t quite decipher, but you brush it aside.

“So it is settled,” Barsad says. “Now, about this dress we-” he starts.

“I think I have something that might be better than whatever the hell it is you have planned,” you say, cutting him off. “No offense, of course,” you add, looking him up and down and noting that his fashion sense isn’t as bad as you’d expected. You stride over to a closet in the back corner of the room, put in the code for the lock you keep on it, and open it, revealing a small collection of couture dresses fit for the finest galas in Gotham. You slide the dresses around, scooting hangers left and right, until you find the dress you were looking for. It is a silk and tulle grey floor-length dress with a fitted bodice that has a plunging v-neck and sheer long sleeves. At the waist, the dress flares out slightly, and there are both white and black pearls sewn into the dress at the waist. “How’s this for a dress?” you ask with a smirk, satisfied when both mens’ eyebrows shoot up and Barsad gives you a wide smile.

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bubblyani · 4 years

Text

Bail Out : 07

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 07: Apologies & Decisions

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault. However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne, surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 10k +

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Swearing and (Surprise!!)

Author’s Note: Haha Long Chapter, Yay! Needed a small break, but I’m back. Hopefully I can post weekly again. Gonna work hard for that cause I love writing this so much. Enjoy!

CHAPTER LIST HERE

In your head, gratitude morphed into the form of Alfred Pennyworth almost a million times whilst you stood before the stainless steel letterboxes in the apartment building lobby. Aside from graciously stopping by an ATM machine, Alfred was considerately patient when you took the opportunity to grab a carton of milk and a few envelops as well. This, when it came to your assigned duties as a roommate and friend, Alfred Pennyworth was your savior for the night.

Inserting the money filled envelop into the specified box, you prayed the farewell party would be a success. “Oh! Señora Hernandez...” you muttered to yourself with a soft chuckle, “ I almost died for you today”.

Given her previous call of concern, you expected Allison to show you what real dramatic worrying was all about. Instead, you did find her, sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

Though she sloppily slept on her side, with her mouth open, she managed to carry it adorably, all the whole the light of the television washed over her figure. Smiling, you entrusted your tip toes to guide you to and from the bedroom, only to bring a throw blanket for your friend. Covering her with it, you were suddenly fully appreciative of all the little joys that were presented to all in life. You were grateful, once again.

Speaking of gratitude, the phone vibrated, sending signals to your face, tempting you to smile from ear to ear as you opened the text from Bruce Wayne, your savior, the object of your desire:

Can’t sleep.

You chuckled, biting your lower lip. All the sudden, it came to realization how those two simple words carried so much more weight with all the variety of meaning. There entailed softness, excitement, a smile that would not wash off your face, and a sudden throbbing inside full of possibilities. Turning the television off, you floated over to your bedroom as your fingers expertly formed a reply:

Well I can. In fact, think I’ll take a sick day tomorrow.

Considering you hardly take any days off, this was a certainly bold move indeed. If almost getting killed by strangulation and bleeding doesn’t suffice as valid reasons, then what would?

Kicking your shoes off, you sank into bed, exhausted to do anything else but to stare at the screen longingly as he responded:

You deserve it

You may have been in your lonesome in your room, yet you had never felt this shy. Even the simplest of words suddenly tempted you to smile your troubles away. Heavens, you could literally hear his voice in your head. That voice of his, so kind, so soothing, rousing in every way. Greed suddenly begged to crawl its way back into your head, so you could long for him passionately. More importantly, greed even offered to bring in desire along, all so you would be free to long for his heavenly lips on yours once again. You missed them already, even a few minutes later. Finally, a new drug addicts frustration was relatable to you. The memory of that wonderful first kiss, it felt powerful enough to inject you with intoxication, forcing your eyelids to grow heavy as you proceeded to type:

Th-

Except your heart seemed more inclined to sink into that memory once more, releasing you from any form of control as you sank into that intoxication.

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

As your eyelids slowly managed to open a few millimetres, it was clear that the intoxication had vanished. However, it managed to carry you over to witness the golden rays of morning. Opening them fully, you found a figure similar to Allison standing before you.

“Ali?” You mumbled sleepily, “Wha-?”

Pausing, you realized you had difficulty moving your lips freely, for your phone rested on your face.

Not only that, you also discovered how your roommate was stood there with her phone, dressed in her work clothes and a rather mischievous smile. Your seemingly goofy confused expression brought Allison hearty laughter.

“Oh my-!” She kept laughing, “You should have seen your face, Sweetie!”

She added, as the shutter sounds played rapidly from her phone, possibly from taking photos. Groaning with with chuckle, you turned away from her to the side, your phone sliding off your face as you covered it shyly.

“Shit! I should have gotten a video…” You heard her say, recovering from her laughter, until she gasped, “Wait! aren’t you working today?”

“Taking a day off” your tone remained muffled with your face pressed against the pillow. Putting her phone away, Allison chuckled.

“Oooooh…” as she rubbed her hands together, “Someone had a wild night last night?” “Mmm….You could say that” Clapping her hands together, Allison began, “Alright sweetie, Imma head out” she said, heading out of your room, “ So I’LL DIG THAT DIRT ON YA LATER…” her voice echoed, followed by naughty laughter as the apartment door closed shut behind her.

Silence. With complete silence finally being in your ownership, you slowly sat up. You stretched, you yawned, all before you sleepily waddled over to the bathroom. Gasping loudly as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, did you truly realize the intensity of your injuries from last night.

Body getting sweaty with panic, you quickly stripped yourself from the hoodie, leaning on the sink as you observed your neck. It was simply a canvas, filled with the detailed colors of smothering, strangle marks evident in their dark maroon. You shuddered loudly, for a split second, it did not seem to look like your own. You felt disgusted, you felt sorry for yourself. Studying your right wrist, the wrapped bandage was another reminder, of the pain and the struggle for your life, all the while you almost bumped heads with the Grim Reaper, who came in the form of Alpha. Under the fluorescent light, you appeared lifeless. You needed a bath, you needed a proper hot meal.

“Sweetie…looks like I messed up the times. I have the night shift toni-”

Allison’s voice crashed in to the bathroom, stopping the very moment she caught the sight of you turning to her with surprise.

“Hey! Wassup?”

You blurted over-enthusiastically. Standing in just your tank top and leggings, you quickly found yourself covering your neck. However, given her furrowed eyebrows, Allison was not amused. In fact, she was quite far from it.

“What the hell are those?”

She inquired, pointing directly at your neck. You shrugged innocently. “Nothing...” You murmured. Pressing her lips together, she quickly dropped her handbag down, which alarmed you. For that move was nothing new to you. She was simply angered.

“Sweetie, I can fucking see them…” Allison yelled with frustration, “What the hell is going on?” She added, voice shaken soon after.

Being your trusted friend for simply ages, Allison Hughs was certainly no fool. You sighed heavily, not knowing where to even begin. With your hands on your hips, amidst the speedy heartbeat, you offered a somber reply:

“You’re gonna need to sit down for this”

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

“So let me get this straight...” Allison finally began, whilst sitting on one of the dinner chairs, “According to the police guy, Erik Henderson could be trying to KILL YOU?” She yelled, her frustration translated into rage, “And you’re JUST SITTING HERE DOING NOTHING?”

Truthfully, you did not blame her. How else would a friend respond when you finally decide to dump every trouble you encountered since that fateful Friday night? Getting up on her feet, Allison was clearly furious, “I mean, what were you think-”

“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, do I Ali?” you cut her off, with your own frustration. As soon as you broke out, you noticed the anger in her eyes slowly vanish. Standing before her with your arms folded, you sighed, “Say I step up and make my accusations…” you continued, “It’s just my word against his…No legit proof” scoffing could not be helped, “…and none of the perps will talk, no matter what” a sigh passed your lips once more, “He’s one bad, rich man!”.

Rubbing your forehead nervously, it finally dawned on you on the ferocity of your situation. You finally realized how powerless you really were. That foul hearted man had certainly had you trapped in the box of corporate power, and there were little holes of justice poked for you to truly breathe.

“Sweetie…”

You looked over to Allison, “As twisted as all this is, you can’t just go on like this, not without telling me…” she said, voice growing emotional with her hands on her chest, “I mean…” she paused, for her voice broke, “…what if something had happened to you?” she inquired softly, her hand slithering over to her mouth. That very moment was when sheer guilt washed over you in a flash. How selfish were you truly to leave everyone in the dark this way? But your intention was never that. A nuisance was what you clearly did not wish to impose on anyone. If Lillian ever knew, she would surely be hurt. Your shoulders loosened while your arms rested on your sides.

“I’m sorry…” you said, shyly looking down. A few seconds of silence was adequate for you to walk over to her, confirm your apology as you gently stroked her shoulder. It was certainly adequate for Allison to succumb to it, until she willfully brought you in for a hug, pressing her face against your tummy. Allison truly defined a true friend. “But I was always fine…” you began, “I mean, Batman saved m-” “BATMAN!!” Allison cried out, her face lighting up as she pushed you back gently, “Oh bless that man for saving you!” She said, bringing her hands together in a prayer stance, before she clapped excitedly. You chuckled, relieved to find her in a better mood now. But of course you were not foolish. Revealing your story did not exactly entail revealing the entire truth about Batman. For now, he was merely a hero who saved you every single time. “But wait…” Allison paused, “Where were you when I called you, then? The police? The hospital?” Shaking your head, it came to your realization there was no other fitting lie to replace the original. “Uhh…with Bruce Wayne...” You answered shyly. It did not take long for Allison’s jaw to drop. Concern hit you hard like a bullet. Could she possibly connect the missing dots? “Wait…so you…him….” Allison began, getting up in an instant. With a gasp, her eyes widened: “DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM? Suddenly it was your jaw’s turn to drop. “WHAT?” You yelled, “NO NO!!!” Shaking your head frantically, you backed away, “WHY would you-” “I mean, you were gone for so long, I assumed you had sex with hi-” “Ali, could you stop saying the S-word please?” You blurted out, covering your ears as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks with fervor. The heat grew intense, as if an explosion were to occur was a result. Why on earth would you act this way? And Allison seemed to find it quite amusing. “Why?” She mocked, “Sweetie, why you suddenly so prude-” Pausing, she smiled widely, as if she just realized.

“Ha!” She scoffed, “You really like him, don’t you?” she inquired, “You’re serious…” as she looked at you with amazement. Your immediate response was clearly to laugh nervously and uncontrollably. Yet as each second passed, the continuous confident glance of your friend, clearly steered you towards the similar direction of realization, as you stopped laughing. It all seemed so clear.

“Yeah…” you breathed, nodding, “I do…I guess” you admitted, smiling softly by the thought of the very man being mentioned. It was true. Every reminiscent of your confession to Bruce last night, and the blessed kiss that followed, it was a symbol of rebirth on loop. And you felt at peace. Squealing with excitement, Allison jumped up and down whilst clapping.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” She said, grabbing your hands, “So? So? You guys are finally a couple or something?”

That simple question. Funny how it surprisingly shooed away the smile on your face. Funny how suddenly that peace was disrupted. For that question led you to another realization. The realization that taught you the gravity of it all. The gravity of the harsh reality that shattered all forms of hope. Allison appeared confused the moment you simply headed back to your room, only to close it shut and scream your frustrations out in the fittest way possible:

“FUUUUUCK!”

Simply put, you kissed your boss. Fantastic.

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

Allison Hughs certainly had quite the morning dealing with you. And the following stage was indeed no different. Laying on her side on the bed, she could only continuously shake her head with complete disbelief watching you pace from one corner to the other in your bedroom. And you knew of that, you noticed it clearly. Though you were caught in a tangled mess. Being a corporate woman, you handled conflicts and issues in a professional manner. Therefore, this was simply an embarrassment.

“Oh god! oh god! oh god-” you went. “I don’t understand what the big deal is, Sweetie“ Allison said coolly.

“Oh Shit! No no no” Your concern still continued as you kept muttering to yourself. “So you guys kissed...And?”

Allison pointed out, as she incited more groans from you, “Okay! Let’s say you guys do start dating…So what?” Allison posed the inquiry, sitting up finally with a smile, “Personally I think it’s hot” she grinned mischievously, while bringing her knees to her chest, as her mind wandered, “Imagine…” she began dreamily, “...getting it on with Mr.Wayne in his office at Wayne Tower...” A sensual tone exited from her, “....No one there to eavesdrop your sexy encounter because the doors locked-”

“Oh yeah...it’s all so tempting until you REALIZE this is REAL LIFE...with CONSEQUENCES!” You spat out frustratingly, before covering your face “...shit! I kissed Bruce Wayne...” Muffled tone emphasized your frustration. Funny how you were blind to all this last night.

“Sweetie! if you like the guy, what the fuck is wrong?”

Allison’s innocent inquiry forced you to look up. You were touched. She really did care for you. However you also sensed her naiveté. And life did not carry on the way one hoped it would. You were finally on the smack bottom of reality. Deeply breathing, You grew calmer.

“Ali, it’s not like I’m falling for a colleague, that’s different. THIS IS Bruce Wayne…” you scoffed, “I mean...dating my EMPLOYER BRUCE WAYNE! It’s just the worst timing. It’s bad enough I punched Henderson, but NOW THIS?? If I do this…” you continued, “I’m bringing Wayne Enterprises down with me…Just think of all the horrible rumors” sighing heavily, you began rummaging the bed for your phone.

“Sweetie, Who cares?”

“I HAVE TO CARE, ALI!” You looked back at her, pausing by your own loud reply, “This is not a fantasy…” you said softly, grabbing the phone, “This is real life…” your tone brimming with sadness.

Breathing deeply, Allison stared at the wall with realization, “…for a second I forgot you’re the acting Head…Shit” she muttered, “Real life problems…” she said, breathing heavily, “…definitely not easy…”

With the phone pressed against your ear, You were finally relieved to see Allison finally understand.

“Greg? Hey!” you began as the call was answered, “No! No! I’m better” you said, shaking your head, “Listen, I’m coming by later to office, okay?”

Allison looked at you confusingly as you finally hung up. You jolted when your phone vibrated in your hand. It was him:

Hope you slept in today.

“Thought you were taking the day off” you heard Allison begin. Your heart could not help but clench when you forcibly swiped the message off your lock screen. The first grueling step.

“Well…” you said, looking up, “I guess I need a distraction from this nightmare”

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

(Few days later)

The sounds of the television echoed throughout the Wayne Penthouse. All the while Alfred Pennyworth continued to set the dinner table for one. The evening news played, images of the variety of criminals courtesy of Gotham’s underbelly, captured and arrested taking main stage as the news reporters presented their usual reports. With the appetizing yet comforting meal served in fashionable white crockery, the butler finally sat on the sofa when the elevator door quickly opened with a ding! The old man smiled, especially when his wrinkled eyes caught the sight of Bruce Wayne enter.

“Another successful arrest…” He began, pointing at the screen, “Thanks to you, sir” he added with a teasing tone. However, the younger man did not acknowledge. Clad in his jeans and leather jacket, Bruce quietly made his way towards the bedroom. Alfred sighed in silence. Fourth night. This probably was the fourth night his young master had acted this way. And the fourth consecutive night he barely touched his dinner, even after his nightly duties. Not to mention, the fourth night of absolute silence. And by this very moment, Pennyworth simply had reached his limits.

“Something’s been bothering you, Master Wayne!”

Alfred began loudly, forcing Bruce to halt, “I can tell…” he added, walking towards the paused man. Tired, Bruce turned back.

“What are you talking about, Alfred?” He inquired with possible denial. Alfred’s eyebrows furrowed: “I’ve raised you since you were an infant…to know when you’re fibbing, Sir…”

The moment the words left Alfred’s lips, an invisible force urged Bruce to sink into the nearest armchair. Bending forward, Bruce covered his eyes before letting out a heavy sigh.

“It’s just that…” he paused, “…it’s her…” taking his hands away, he looked at the old man. Given the nature of their relationship, it was more than sufficient information for the both of them to understand what exactly was being discussed here. And who.

Nodding slowly, Alfred made his way to the counter:

“Think it’s time to open up that Whiskey you’ve been saving, Master Wayne”

He said, who did not notice the subtle sad smile that appeared on Bruce’s face during.

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

Performance Appraisals : the review of employees performance and the overall contribution to the company. In other words, the busiest time of the year for the HR Department. It was certainly the most perfect distraction from the nightmare you had identified as reality. Which mainly was the situation between you and Bruce Wayne.

Forget him.

Your fingers, they were shamed, they were strictly forbidden from traveling anywhere near his name on your phone screen to form any sort of replies to his countless messages.

I suppose work is keeping you quite busy, huh?

Messages that kept coming:

Is everything alright?

With much enthusiasm and concern:

You know, I’m here if you need me. What’s going on?

In other words, you had made the horrid, difficult decision to forbid yourself of thinking about him. Let alone hope for any possible future with him.

Forget him.

You welcomed late night, early morning assignments, deadlines, work meetings. you volunteered on behalf of everyone, all the to the point they all began to wonder about your sanity. And it did not matter to you. Fully immersed, you made sure the only free time you were gifted with, was only to sleep. Just for one vital goal:

Forget him.

Physically and mentally, you were quicker and more reflexive than ever before. It seemed quite essential to do so, especially when you were more prone to accidentally encounter the man you wished to avoid with all your heart. And it was quite the challenge to avoid him, considering the fact he surprisingly was present at work every day.

However, those efforts were tested, and Lucius Fox was responsible. Little did you expect to submit a report to the CEO all the sudden, only to find Bruce Wayne sitting in his office conversing with him during. Though sheer panic came over, you remembered politely offering your greetings to both. As much as the sight of him brought a sense of comfort to a part of you, the strength of your will assisted in forcing you out of the office in time to recover yourself in the elevator.

Truthfully, you were no fool. You knew who he was, and you could appreciate him. If you were any other woman, heaven knew how much you would treasure him with all your heart. With no shame and no boundaries. Heaven knew the infinite amount of love you would give to him.

But you were you, and you were desperately full of bad luck. You were at the risk of being called out as the Senior HR Manager entangled with the owner of Wayne Enterprises, possibly sleeping with him as well. It was not what you were deserved to be called as, but it would be rumored and fabricated as such. Life was never kind to women. It still is not.

Forget him : Two words that you kept telling yourself. They were what you had to believe in, even though you truthfully missed him every single time. It was the pill you had to swallow every single moment your body would be in cold sweats deprived of his touch. That wonderfully innocent touch you were gifted with one night, being in his arms as you kissed him with all the love. You were not happy with this, that was the plain truth. In fact, the self-hate and disappointed increased by tenfolds.

Forget him

You prayed you would bore him. You prayed he would move on. You prayed to see him smile, alongside a wonderfully appropriate woman, someone that he could walk hand in hand with. You prayed he would be happy with no shame or regrets. Dying of jealousy would be inevitable for you, but at least you would be at peace. All because you truly cared for him, because you truly loved him. And thus, there you were, immersed in the distraction, your life consistently on fast pace , like a dance remix track on loop.

However, one early morning, a particular phone call suddenly managed to force your life to hit pause.

“Miss, Please come”

Alfred Pennyworth said, his voice laced with a tone close to sadness, something you had never heard before:

“It’s about Master Wayne”

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

The manner you scrambled in to the elevator, “Forget him” was certainly the last thing you could ever do, for Bruce Wayne was all that you could think of at the moment. Was he hurt? Injured? Or something worse? The few seconds taken for the elevator to reach the Penthouse felt like an eternity, thus driving you beyond patience as your foot tapped nervously. Your heart was beating at a new pace of its own, speed so deadly you feared you might even explode. Hunger or thirst had come second in your needs this morning. The moment the elevator opened, the tapping of your foot joined the exact speed of your heart. You literally jumped out:

“ALFRED!” You cried, “ Alfred…where is h-”

You paused, eyes widening with confusion. The worry and panic birthed in you suddenly seemed quite wasteful. Especially when you found Bruce Wayne casually standing next to the sofa chair alongside Alfred, being at their safest and calmest. That very moment, did you realize how overdramatic your behavior might have seemed, which caused nothing but sheer awkwardness in the room. It was clearly intensified when you noticed the mess of a state you were in. Dashing out of your own apartment so fast, you had forgotten to tuck in your shirt, while your hair remained loose and inhibited. With a proud smile, Alfred looked at his master:

“I told you so…” the butler said, beginning to walk away from him. You grew confused.

“Told?-” you paused, “Wait!” you exclaimed, looking at Bruce. Confusion morphed into instant anger. Could this possibly be another cheap ploy to see you? By playing with your emotions? You were in disbelief, as you pointed at him accusingly:

“Did you put Alfred up to this?”

“It was purely my doing, Miss”

Your eyes widened once more when Alfred answered with confidence. Panting to recover your breath, you looked at the older man walking over to you.

“I only did the needful…cause no one else did…” he said, shooting you a look before looking over at Bruce, “I’ve made you some, if you excuse me”

You chuckled in disbelief. It appeared that someone was clearly compelled to take decisive action on behalf on both of you, as a proper adult. And his name was Alfred Pennyworth.

“Thank you, Alfred” Bruce said, to which the butler nodded in acknowledgement before leaving the area.

All your dire efforts in the past few days seemed moot, when finally you were back to square one, as you had this standing right before you. Dressed in such simple attire such as a crisp white shirt and black pants, Bruce Wayne still managed to break your defenses, leaving you breathless once more. He was the physical embodiment of the dewy grass in the early morning. Simply cooling and refreshing. The mere thought of being alone in a room with Bruce Wayne would have been your version of heaven a few days ago. Truthfully, temptation frantically begged you to run into his arms, only to just remain there for an eternity. And heaven knows what else it would urge you to do with a man such as he was.

But you could not. You should not. Not when you constantly felt as you were being trialed by morality. You despised it.

The room reeked of silence, to the point it was simply unbearable. The fact he did not seem cross made it worse for you. An explanation was needed by him. You could not disagree on that. Taking a few steps towards him, you inhaled deeply, especially when he looked at you with a gentle yearning:

“I-”

The phone rang frantically in your bag, making you jump. With a deep sigh, you took it out. Immediately, you looked over to Bruce:

“It’s Officer Blake…”

You said, knowing information of much importance was to be received. It was a call not to be ignored. With his nod of agreement, you put the call on speaker phone.

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

With a reasonably stacked file in hand, Officer John Blake sat comfortably at the rooftop of the Police Station. It was a cloudy morning as he looked over the Gotham city with his phone pressed to his ear. This call, was certainly the precinct walls need not eavesdrop to.

“Officer Blake!”

The woman known publicly as ‘The Bruiser’ answered, “ I really hope you’re calling to bring me good news” John could not help but chuckle by her response, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ma’am” he said, “But I promise to give you something better than ‘I’ve got nuthin’” Opening the file with one hand, he continued, “The shooter from last time…” “… Mr. Slender?” “Who?” John asked confusingly. The woman laughed nervously from the other side of the line. “Sorry…” she said, “…that was what I called him in my head…” “Makes sense…” John nodded, proceeding to smile when he saw a woman walking over to him. It was Nina Langdon. With her loose red hair brushed to the side, she quickly perched next to John, offering him a coffee cup, labeled “Commons Café”. Putting the call on speaker, John handed the phone to Nina as he went through the file whilst taking a quick sip of the hot beverage:

“His name is Emilio Cruz, or thats what it says in the system...” He said, as the coffee warmed his throat, “No priors, and…” sighing, John shook his head, “…there’s very little detail about him. He barely talked during the interrogation. And before we knew it, Henderson’s men got him out again”

The woman exhaled deeply. John did not blame her. For even Nina did not seem pleased.

“So he’s a free man again…”

“Technically yes, there’s not much the police can do right now” John answered, looking through the file, “The CCTVs near the bodega were blocked the moment shots were fired, so we couldn’t make out the other people involved.”

The woman expressed her response with silence. Blake felt guilt clenching him hard. His distress was evident. And for a second, he did not even have the heart to look at Nina. Gripping the file tighter, his voice suddenly grew louder:

“Ma’am…” John began, “…I know this seems like a dead end, but it’s not. I won’t let it” he said, “I’ll do my best to open a case against Henderson, and you will have to come in every once in a while for questioning”

“Of course…anything you need, Officer”

The woman answered instantly. Her voice rife with enthusiasm and relief.

Finally hanging up, John quickly took in another long sip for comfort.

“You’re doing the right thing, John” Nina spoke, the warmth in her voice seemingly much stronger than the beverage. As he looked into her eyes, John knew he got the morale boost he so needed to carry with this mission.

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

Putting the phone away, you let out a heavy sigh. You were filled with such suspense during the call that your forced you to sit down. As he stood with his hands in his trouser pockets, Bruce watched you silently. After almost escaping death, a partial hope formed within you, that perhaps your life would finally be spared and intruded. Truthfully, how far could someone really go for murder? But now, upon hearing the sombre tone of Officer Blake, another reality dawned on you. One where you might have to keep your eyes wide open. Open for ‘Emilio’ and for ‘Alpha’. Feigning a chuckle, you slowly got up, barely looking at the man.

“Guess I still got a target on my head…heheh”

You said, looking down. But the moment your eyes traced his footsteps growing closer, you cleared your throat, “..right-”

“You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?”

You tensed, when Bruce Wayne finally brought up the elephant in the room. Turning your head up slowly, your eyes finally met his. His eyes, they were far from displeased. However, you did manage to catch a glimpse of sadness in them. As if he was let down. As this was not expected. Not from some such as yourself. You felt so ashamed.

“Mr.Wayne-”

“Bruce” he corrected, with a soft smile. Shushing yourself embarrassingly, you held your hands together for forgiveness, “Force of habit….” You muttered shyly. As your hands were engaged in a silent wrestling match of it’s own, you took a deep breath:

“I’m really sorry…” you began softly, “…truly…for everything, Bruce”

His name, simply unbelievable how it rolled out of your lips so beautifully. And more importantly, how you managed to involuntarily smile whenever it did. As you smiled, you felt your body relax, enabling you to admire those handsome features he owned. For a split second, you were overjoyed to implant your gaze at him. Your eyes, they indulged in the details as he grew closer. The brunette hair parted on the side and brushed back seemed so delectable, your fingers suppressed their desire to run through it with frenzy. The high cheekbones and the lines on the sides of his mouth seemingly majestic, distracting you until it was clear he stood merely a few centimeters away from your face, bending his head, high hopes to steal a long-awaited kiss.

Except you looked down. With a deep breath, you put your hands on your hips before looking up with a serious expression:

“I am a woman...” you began, “....who takes her job very seriously…” You stated confidently, “And…” you chuckled, pointing at him, “…you being you...and me being me…” you said, pointing at yourself, “I just…” you paused, “…this ...is this right?” You inquired, “…Us? I mean…” taking another breath, you smiled, “Are you sure you want this?”

Beating around the bush just to inquire the ethics of a relationship. Was this over dramatic? Bruce however, did not flinch. Instead, he smiled.

“I think you should ask the question yourself...” he said, his voice softer than velvet, “... do you want this?” He said, passing the ball over to you, which you held with such reluctance. You sighed:

“Don’t do this, Bruce-”

However you shut up the moment he cupped your face with both hands. He was not amused. He seemed highly convincing:

“You’re the one who kissed me” he stated, his warmth breath falling on your face, “…you’re the one who drove me insane… from the very moment I saw you”

Breathless, you tried your hardest not to be. But it was difficult, especially when his velvet voice soothed your wounded soul.

“Well, to be fair…” you began in a witty tone, “…you weren’t entirely innocent yourself” you said, smiling. Bruce shot you an amused glance. Breathing deeply, you sighed, “You have no idea how wild you drove me” you added with sincerity: “And you kissed me back, mind you”

You said. Chuckling together, the atmosphere seemed to grow normal and comfortable. Truthfully, you missed that dearly.

“I just hope you understand, I’m in a really screwed up place…” you said sadly, “…you being my boss and all…” you stated, for that was simply the truth. Bruce smiled gently.

“Well, until things get unscrewed…” he began, “I will wait for you…”

“I wish you won’t…” you said, reminded of the kindness you felt in him on the very first day you met him. Instead of a defying reply, his lips landed on your forehead, kissing it gently to send a rush of warmth though you. As simple as it was, yet it called out for many of your frustrations to come out of the shadows. And it simply caused you to long for him even more. Forget him? It would be a herculean task indeed.

“But don’t make me suffer for too long” he teased, muttering on to your forehead before looking at you. With a chuckle, you tilted your head:

“See? I don’t want to be a burden to you…”

“You’re not-”

“Master Wayne!”

Alfred’s voice emerged out of nowhere, forcing Bruce to release you from his grasp. The older man walked over briskly, “Pardon the intrusion but…”

“And that’s my queue to leave…” you announced, unwilling to intrude on pressing matters.

“Best if you stay as well, Miss”

Alfred certainly had other plans, as he turned on the television to GCN Breaking News. Complete surprise was the default mood as you all watched Erik Henderson standing before Henderson Incorporated surrounded by news reporters. His smug expression was as flashy as the tile of the news frame that read:

Wayne Enterprises: Guilty of Intellectual Property Breach?

Bruce’s phone began to ring continuously, however he silenced it as Henderson began to speak to the press:

“Henderson Incorporated has been robbed of our dignity. And I demand Bruce Wayne to step forward and address this. He may be able to protect thugs in his own company like ‘the Bruiser’ but, we will not rest until this issue is resolved”

Folding your arms worriedly, you wondered if you were actually a fatal curse brought upon to destroy Wayne Enterprises, and Bruce Wayne himself.

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

An Emergency Management Meeting was called. Being Lillian’s backup, it was imperative for you to participate from HR. Henderson’s surprising stunt had definitely caused quite the stir that a swarm of reporters waited outside Wayne Enterprises when you finally arrived. Thus, entering the building itself was a dire task with you bombarded with questions:

“Bruiser! Bruiser! Over here!” “What are your thoughts regarding the claims made by Erik Henderson?” “Do you feel partially responsible for all this?” “Have you been in contact with Bruce Wayne?” “Do you regret attacking Henderson?”

Those unanswered questions echoed in your head, sitting alongside the other Heads and members at the conference room. The group collectively clamored with questions, growing louder when Lucius Fox and Bruce Wayne arrived and took their seats. But as soon as Fox stood up, silence fell on all of them.

“Members of the Management” he began, his voice booming across “As we all know, Erik Henderson has made certain unsavory claims about Wayne Enterprises”

“What the hell is this devil up to?” Kline from Accounting certainly had no time to be formal, while the others heavily buzzed in agreement.

“He’s claiming Wayne Enterprises has stolen the…” Fox paused, as he read the file in hand, “…blueprints of their Main Server” he added with raised eyebrows. As if what he heard was unimaginable.

“That’s preposterous!” Kline cried out, leading the crowd to continue their clamour.

Slight relief washed over you. When you expected the Heads to show their aggression towards you for your previous blunder, they somehow surprised you with complete solidarity instead. Perhaps that company dinner helped. And it was certainly a relief that the Board of Directors were not involved. They did not need to be. Heaven knows the chaos they would make, and the blame they might impose on you. Thank goodness for Fox. You looked over at Bruce, who sat on the other corner of the table. Looking at Fox with seriousness, he seemed to be deep in thought. Maybe he was.

“Regardless of the minor details, this is simply utter nonsense” Fox said.

“But Mr. Fox, we cannot take this lying down” Ted Hawthorne pointed out, sitting beside his Head in Legal with a concerned expression, “The Board of Directors will definitely have questions. And Henderson will not hesitate to press charges…”

“Exactly…” Fox said, “..so before this drags on to court, I suggest we meet Henderson’s team in private, resolving this as peacefully as possible”

“Henderson is asking for me”

All turned towards Bruce’s direction as his voice pierced through, “I will go.”

Your heart clenched. As valiant as he was, this was not the time to be Batman. He could not take on this endeavour all on his own.

“You’re going to need us, Mr Wayne” Ted said, “Henderson’s Team is like a pack of wolves, you’re going to need reinforcements if this is gonna be resolved.”

“Thank you” Bruce nodded at him.

And so, whilst the Management continued to plan out their strategy before the fated meeting, you could not help but continuously glance over at Bruce. A sudden urge came over you to speak to him. Was he prepared with this? Will everything be alright? As he kept himself busy listening to the Legal Team, you were descending down on a personal spiral of regrets. Which included getting this entire company in trouble in the first place.

All because of a drunken punch in the face.

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

“What the damn HELL?”

Lillian Foster’s enraged voice filled your ears through the phone. In complete disbelief yourself, you could not help but laugh while walking out of the ladies washroom. You could not resist sharing the news with your Boss.

“Yeah! my thoughts exactly…” you said, bending to toss the used tissue to the trash bin. Lillian sighed heavily.

“I swear, that man Henderson is going off the rails” her voice kept you in good company strolling through the HR floor, “So…He thinks we had a spy stealing a Blueprint?”

“So…you remember Caleb saying he went for an Interview at Hendersons before joining Wayne?” you recalled, walking over to your office,“And that was like TWO years ago” you stressed, locking the door behind you, “And now suddenly it’s a matter of company safety for Henderson? He’s unbelievable…” you scoffed, standing by the window blinders , opening it slightly to watch the staff outside, “Anyways, How is the baby?” your voice quickly changing to an affectionate one.

“Thankfully loves her mama…I could sleep for a few straight hours finally”

Nodding, your eyes seemed occupied once you caught the glimpse of Clara Bennett. Sitting in her lonesome in one of the smaller meeting rooms, she seemed to be far from her usual self. Down in the dumps, more like.

“So, what are you gonna do about the Offer?”

Your focus returned immediately upon Lillian’s query. Nervousness began to form.

“What offer?” you blurted out with feigned surprise. Your boss chuckled.

“Don’t play dumb with me, young lady …” she said, “I bet you already got Hudson’s email …I heard from a contact”

With a deep sigh, you made your way to your computer. Lillian seemed patient with your silence, as she cooed her crying baby lovingly. You opened your inbox with trepidation, clicking on that fateful email titled:

Job Offer for General Manager -Hudsons Solutions

Hudsons Solutions, possibly the best HR Specialist Company in Gotham city. It was known to only hire only the best in the field, providing excellent services to all major companies and businesses. The fact that Clara Bennett herself was not a permanent staffer there was a clear example of their elite status.

Therefore, it was quite the surprise when they offered you a job. You remember going for the interview two years ago. It was an impulse decision after a bad day. But never did you think they would get back with a green light. This email was a blessing. Yet, you were reluctant to even consider it.

“So…how does it look?”

Lillian inquired as you looked at the email. You sighed with an involuntary smile, “It’s everything I hoped it would be…“ you said, “...the working hours, the pay, the benefits…” You added, feeling a sense of excitement the more you read it , “But” you paused, “… after the Bruiser incident… would they choose me?” You wondered, your fingers grazing over the mouse.

“The fact they sent this after the incident, clearly shows they want you no matter what”

Funny how you still were brimming with confusion, even with Good News staring at you in the face. “I really don’t know what to do, Lillian” you admitted, crossing your legs, “But…Hudsons is my dream place to work”

“Heheh…I’m really gonna miss you if you go…”

You chuckled, “Well, Why don’t you come along with me?”

“Don’t tempt me. I might…”

Lillian said, with laughter breaking out between both.

Truthfully, you were surrendered by fear. It finally was evident that you possibly may fear of letting go. Imagining the possibility of leaving the company that was your home for a decade. The thought of it seemed heartbreaking. It was never hell. But you always longed to get better. However, if you did strive and take the daring step, would that not help you in every way imaginable? With Bruce Wayne, for example?

Then again, if the Billionaire ends up never being invested as you were, would it regretful to leave behind a trustworthy workplace?

“You were born to do great things, honey. I hope you make a good decision”

Hanging up, a huge weight landed on your chest with more queries. But at the same time, you had a thirst that needed quenching. And a sudden urge to check on a friend.

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Gently knocking on the small meeting room door, you surprised Clara with two paper cups of steaming coffee. And to your sheer relief, her face lit up soon after.

“Thanks...” she said, taking one cup, “…you already know my order” she added with surprise. You smiled.

“That happens when you come to the HR Department at Wayne Enterprises…you remember your coffee order” you chuckled, sitting in front of her. Finally, after a few of consulting, it was finally Clara’s last week. But that could not possibly be the reason for her blue expression, “You doing okay?” You inquired.

Looking up from her coffee, Clara appeared quizzical, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not saying I miss you poking on our business but…” you said ,shaking your head, “It’s just that…you’ve been unusually quiet these days” you stated, shrugging, “Just wanted to see if you’re okay”

Ever since the night you were almost killed, you were too distracted by being distracted ,to fully notice how Clara exuded a different energy at work. She spoke less and she smiled rarely. Holding onto her coffee, she sighed: “I’m sorry. It’s just that-” she paused, smiling, “Never mind..”

“What?” You asked quickly, only to stop yourself, “I mean- you don’t have to-if you don’t want to…” you said, unwilling to cause trouble by slowly getting up, “I can just-”

“No, I want to” Clara said, urging you to sit down once again. Taking a deep breath, she looked at you, “So…I’ve been seeing this guy”

“Ooh…” You began excitedly with a smile, “….someone tamed Ms. Bennett’s heart. Spicy!-Sorry…” you bowed your head embarrassingly upon seeing Clara’s look.

Taking another sip, she continued: “Anyways, We went out a couple of times. And he wasn’t shy on telling me how much he liked me”

“So he’s an expressive one, that’s rare” you noted, nodding before drinking your coffee. Clara chuckled.

“Yeah, I like him, I do” She added, “But, I was scared to admit it for some reason”, you swore you felt your smile fade upon hearing it, “And when I finally summed up the courage to tell him…” Clara smiled sadly, “…he didn’t seem that interested anymore. He had moved on”

“Oh Clara…” you breathed. She shrugged.

“Guess he figured I wasn’t as invested as he was…” she said, “…which was NOT true…I was just late to the party. I just didn’t…do it right…” she added, her fist clenching tightly. You sighed deeply.

“That just sucks…really, I’m so sorry”

Clara chuckled amusingly, "Why you getting so upset?”

The sadness was evident on your face, you may not have seen it. Yet you felt it. Coming to realization, you pressed your lips. She was right, why were you so upset? Could it that it was a clear reminder of someone else you knew? Yourself? Your future? Bruce?

“Me?” You feigned your disbelief, “ I just-” you paused, “ I guess I can understand when you like someone…and the challenges that come with it” Indeed, you could empathize to the core. More than ever. Along with the what would smother you. In every way.

"Ah well…what to do” the consultant replied, leaning forward “ All I can tell you is this: If you really care for someone…” she added seriously, slowly tapping her fingers on the table, “….like or love or whatever, better act on it… fast” she stressed, finally leaning back once again, “Cause very few people will be patient in life. And Life IS short so….” Getting up, you were left with some of your own pondering as she left.

Work proceeded as usual, going on until you managed to look through the glass window to the glittery Gotham skyline that evening. Unease remained in you throughout the entire day with one person in mind: Bruce Wayne. 8 hours since they left for questioning, and there were no news. The number of texts you sent were still left unanswered. So, this is what it feels like, you thought.

Perhaps Alfred. Being his confidant, he may have contacted him. Making your way out of the Wayne Tower, you knew where to head over to.

But all was made simply made convenient for you, when you found Alfred Pennyworth standing by the Rolls Royce, in front of the Tower, seemingly waiting for you.

“Master Wayne insisted” he said, before you could even question. And without any objection, you nodded to let him drive you home.

As the vehicle cruised through the city, you were quiet. It could not be helped. A certain form of guilt had occupied you, forcing you to do so. However, when Alfred’s eyes greeted you from the rear view mirror, you knew you were compelled to speak: “Any news from Bruce?” You inquired.

“Not at the moment, No” the butler answered with politeness. Sighing was inevitable at this point, as you looked through the window.

“I hope they’re not in trouble” you muttered.

“It’s Master Wayne, miss” Alfred said, “He will figure it out somehow” The reassurance he offered, filled you with comfort. But simultaneously that guilt within you grew larger like a tumor, reminding you of the indirect cruelty you had inflicted on both men.

“Alfred…” You began with a deep breath, “I’m sorry….” You continued, “…for avoiding you both…” sighing soon after, “This situation…its not easy for me…”

“We are all bound by responsibility, that I understand, Miss” Alfred replied, as he continued to drive, “But one thing is for certain. In all my life, I have never seen Master Wayne wanting so much to be happy with someone…” he insisted “…and by someone… I mean you, Miss”

He may be the trusted Butler in the Wayne family, but given his tone, you also heard the concern of a father, watching over his son with affection. That strong concern pierced through your heart and remained with a memorable pain.

As you sat on your bed that night, rubbing hand cream, you recalled all the moments that clearly urged you to reflect: Lillian, Clara and Alfred. All three of them, involuntarily shedding light on the path you possibly should journey in. And in the end of the day, you were the one to decide, to take that daring step. Was Bruce alright? You wondered still. Given the time now, it seemed impossible to imagine Henderson’s legal team to wear them out with accusations at this hour. It was simply ludicrous.

Your heart skipped a beat when the phone vibrated. But the moment you glanced upon it, you chuckled lightly, for you guessed it wrong. It was Clara.

Thanks for today. I felt much better unloading on you.

Smiling warmly, you were relieved. Such a sheer pity she would leave soon. It was certainly a rollercoaster ride of emotion knowing her. However, it all worked out well in the end. You formed a reply:

Yay! Glad I could help.

Would you be truly fortunate enough to receive a text from Bruce instead? At least one word, just to hint all was well. Sleeping seemed unimaginable to you now. For all you could imagine doing was to blankly stare at the screen, drown oneself in the blue light until his name would appear at some point. You were patient.

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(5:30 am )

Dawn peacefully greeted your eyes when they slowly opened. Exhaustion finally had sent you to deep slumber, you appeared to have rested in fetal position, cradling your phone as if it was the most precious object. The reason for it, you had an important one. But, as you glanced upon the screen, the efforts still seemed moot.

With a glass of water in hand, you quietly paced around the apartment in your oversized t-shirt. Morning lights in shades of blue and gray had fallen over every object and corner of the premises. The blue hour, as it was called, was possibly your favorite moment of the day. Regardless of what time you may sleep, your eyes would always open to be greeted by the blue hour. Perhaps your body was hopelessly besotted with it, therefore efforts to wake up seemed nonexistent anymore. You were thankful, for it was the apt moment to indulge in peace, the beauty before the bustle of the streets grew loud, before your roommate woke up. The blue hour was indeed your own, special hour.

Gulping down the entire water, you kept the glass in the sink with a sigh. He never managed to leave your thoughts every single minute. It was inconceivable to imagine how one could think of someone always, but it seemed you could, at least once a minute. For no matter how many attempts arise, he managed to stealthily conceal himself in some undiscoverable corner of your heart. You asked for nothing much, all you really longed for was to confirm his safety, his company’s safety.

The doorbell rang, suddenly waking you up from your pondering. The fact it rang so early in the day, had you quite suspicious. Could it be another attack? Right here in your home? With a deep breath, you tip toed over to the door. Your heart evidently beating out of your chest as you pressed your ear against the door.

“Y-Yes?” You inquired softly.

“It’s me”

That familiar voice. It suddenly provided you with the amount of life your body truly needed. Brimming with relief, you swore you almost felt your eyes water with tears. Overjoyed, you quickly opened the door wide to find Bruce Wayne standing there. Still dressed in his suit and tie, he certainly wore an extra exhausted look as he entered:

“Hey, sorry for barging in like th-”

He paused. He had to. Especially when you ran into him for a tight embrace.

“I-I didn’t go to war, you know” Bruce began, confusingly.

“Doesn’t matter…you’re here now” you replied, with warmth. Heartbeat began to increase the moment you felt his own arms tightly hold you back, to bring you closer. This very moment was when you realized this probably was the very first you shared an embrace. And truthfully, you certainly were pleased with the result. In fact, you were euphoric. His body, you found home in it, with its warmth and it’s safety, framing your own body with such care as your face rested on the crook of his neck. Bruce finally sighed:

“But it did feel like war” he breathed gently. You chuckled.

“Well, Welcome home, soldier ” you whispered teasingly.

Pulling away was torturous. If only you could stay like this forever. Nature certainly was on your side, when you realized his magnetic energy exuded with strength. You were deeply inclined to press your forehead against his, witnessing the quiet, syncopated breathing between each other. And you did. Being in this close proximity, noses brushed against another, sending small sparks of electricity throughout your frame. The memory of that first kiss. The tension, the warmth and the affection. You were reminded of all of it instantly. Lips were heavily strengthened with the magnetic force, urging to reunite with one another. However before tensions skyrocketed, you moved away. Breathing in to reality once again. And it was Hell.

“What the hell happened, Bruce?”

You inquired casually, your hands resting on your hips, “How long did they keep you for?” “Since this morning” “What?” Hissing in shock, your eyes widened as he quietly closed the door behind him. “Henderson’s guys, they were good” He said softly, shaking his head as you offered him a seat on the sofa, “They were armed with enough questions to last the night. Some of them just plain outrageous, in fact. All just to make sure we didn’t steal their Blueprints” he chuckled.

“God!” You exclaimed quietly, “…that man is crazy” you said, walking towards the window while looking at him, “Were you alone?”

“No no...” he said, “Ted and the others...safe to say, they saved my ass” he added, following you. Smiling proudly, you tilted your head:

“You owe them big time, by the way”

“Oh, I told them to sleep it off today....” Bruce said, with a smile, “With pay...” Clutching your chest, you were joyous to see all had ended well, “Thank you...” you breathed, to which he nodded graciously. All the sudden, it came to your awareness of how indecent you appeared before him. Being the woman who paraded around in her formal office attire, now standing in just her oversized T-shirt, messy hair and no makeup.

Yet, it indeed was surprising that it only occurred to you later on, for your strongest emotions and concerns had come first before reputation. With your long silence, it seems Bruce finally took a good look at you as well. Dare to catch his expression, you dared not, for you urged yourself to shyly look away.

“Henderson...he-“ you began, folding your arms, “I’m pretty sure all this happened because of me...” you added, looking down at his shoes. You sighed, “this was definitely a petty method to get you to fire me. I mean, none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me” you stated, “I’m putting this company through so much”. Hunching forward, you chuckled sadly:

“They should have just killed me in that alleyway in the first place-Ah!”

Gasps exited your lips when you felt Bruce snatch on to your right hand with an iron grip. Only then did you realize the intensity of his eyes piercing through the dim morning light. And how they glinted with hurt.

“If they killed you,...” he breathed, pressing his lips soon after, “I would never be able to live with myself…ever”

Those words brimmed with vulnerability. However, your heart could not accept them.

“You’re just saying that“ you whimpered. Looking in to your eyes with focus, he breathed in your name.

“I spent one whole night…” Bruce began, “…answering senseless questions, to a man child with anger issues…And I did it for you” he said, “And…I would do it all over again...”

To your surprise, this composited of all qualities deemed romantic, though it may not seemed traditional. They were certainly most adequate for you. But, your heart was not yet convinced:

“Bruce…” your voice almost broke, “…I’m just a Senior Manager in your company” you said, with a sad smile, “You deserve better”

And you meant it, truly. Gently pulling you closer, Bruce exhaled deeply: “I don’t care of what I deserve...” he stated, his thumb grazing over your hand, “…I care of what I need…”

Your fast paced heart had difficulty functioning when you felt him place a gentle kiss on the back of your wrist. The same traumatic place Alpha willfully slashed, the same spot blood managed to gush out. His lips, they were akin to an invisible bandage you preferred not to rid oneself of. And to find him reach this stage of vulnerability, you would be lying if you did not acknowledge your broken heart as a consequence.

“Bruce...” you breathed, your defenses breaking down within seconds. Looking up, he looked at you with desperation:

“What is it?” he inquired with impatience, “What do I need to prove to y-”

He was silenced, when you clashed your lips against his with sheer desperation. Your heart finally understood, it seemed.

“Just kiss me” you breathed shakily, your lips brushing against his. Was this what he desired for? You wondered for a split second. But the moment he exhaled with relief, Bruce kissed you back with equal fervor, both finally have come to an understanding.

A desperate one, to be exact.

Bruce’s lips were as addictive and charismatic as his entire presence itself, and certainly strong enough to drive away and forget all matters that resided in your head, except one: your desperate need for him.

Desperation was what you tasted when he kissed you, and that was what your own lips preached religiously to his. It was the lead role of this passion play. Every minute, every day, every week you had deprived yourself of him, you hopelessly needed them back. All forms of doubts and suppression that lingered, you threw all out of the window. For you chose him, you wanted him.

His lips, they held on to you tightly, savoring your own with enough passion and impatience whilst his hands gripped on to your waist with intensity. And truthfully, you did not blame him. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you were relieved to share that similar greed for one another. You moaned into the kiss, as his palms made themselves at home on your buttocks. Backing up, you finally stopped the moment you felt the dinner table right behind you. And before your brain could even form any connection, Bruce was generous, lowering himself enough for you to jump onto him, just so he could carefully place you on the table.

Pulling him by the loosened tie, you felt the kiss deepen at last. Tongues were in a desperate race to reach their destination before the other, intoxicating each other with no shame. As he stood between your legs, you heard yourself gasp into his lips as bodies clashed intimately close. It sent goosebumps, it cause fireworks. Your body was awakened in more ways than one.

Like a drug addict deprived of her usual supply, you suddenly looked at Bruce with desperation when his lips quickly pulled away from yours. Looking at your messy, aroused state, he began breathlessly:

“I can…” he panted, forehead pressed against yours, “I can stop if you want-”

“Don’t dare fucking stop, Bruce!”

You whispered, sheer impatience leading you to kiss him roughly afterwards. His consideration even at this point led to even more arousal than before. By now, the level of desperation increased, to the point a sense of connection was expected of, where desire and lust grouped up form a stronger alliance. A pair of trousers being unbuckled never sounded this heavenly, especially when it was Bruce Wayne engaged in it. With your own fingers hooked on to the ends of your panties, you impatiently managed to pull them down whilst moving from side to side on the table. All the while his lips were desperately glued onto yours.

No clothes were in need of shedding, for there was simply no time to. Sloppy Desperation overruled this morning, to the point all that simply mattered were the uniting of one’s bodies until two became one, until that burning flame could finally be put out. Until that hunger was satisfied, and that thirst was quenched.

“Bruce…” you breathed, pulling away, eyes widening as you looked down.

For the moment your eyes caught the glimpse of his own aroused manhood reveal itself before you, the need for him was confirmed once more . The very moment you found yourself adjusting for him, you were aware of what you needed. The moment you let out of an incredibly emotional cry when he finally inserted himself into you, all that seemed challenging in your life were suddenly filled with clarity.

“Ah! Bruce…” you cried softly, as his own grunts harmonized with yours.

With every thrust he made inside you, with every kiss he planted on your skin, you gladly were prepared to be his. As the apartment filled up with suppressed moans, grunts and whispery sighs exchanged between the two, you were hopelessly and shamelessly his.

When finally the passion peak was reached, and his own passion erupted and released within your core, You finally knew what really was important for you. For you had finally decided.

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Chapter 8 HERE

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ennyaisabaella · 7 years

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#Bane fanfiction #fanfiction update #fanfic writing #tdkr fanfiction #Bane #ennyaisabaella #ennya

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clairecrive · 4 years

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“Chaos”- Bane x OC [Requested]

After a long therapeutic writing session, I’m back with some Bane goodies as promised! this was requested a long time ago by a girl on wattpad but idk why I never had enough ideas/inspiration to finish it until a couple of days ago. And so here it is. It’s been a while since I’ve written so I’m hoping this isn’t that shitty lol. Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @deaflikehawkeye, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @fandom--0verdose, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

Blending in the shadows had always been the accomplishment Ace was the proudest of. Throughout the years, she had mastered it to the point of perfection, so much so that even the man who claimed to own the shadows hadn't been able to spot her. She wasn't there to spy on them so she'd eventually come forward and make her presence known. Only when the time was right though. For now, she had to listen and observe.

When she heard the mercenary give the last instructions to his men and was about to dismiss them, Ace decided it was time to come forward.

"That's an excellent plan indeed, except that it will fail." Emerging from the shadows she walked into the room with confident strides. As soon as they saw her, the men pointed their guns at her. However, she didn't pay them any mind. Ace's eyes and focus were solely on the burly muscular man standing at the centre of the room. He was in control, that much she knew, alas the men wouldn't move a muscle without his permission.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?" Straightening his posture, his hands landing on the straps of his vest, Bane quickly shut the intruder up.

"Nevertheless, I gave it to you. Now, you should be wise and take it because I'm right." Standing in front of him, Ace held her head high for better holding his gaze. From this position, she could see how he was able to instil fear in everyone. However, Ace acted as if the difference in height was nothing more than a fact. Like he was a man and her a woman.

"And why would you know anything about strategies and plans?"

"Does this mean that you don't recognize me then?" Pouting, Ace twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. To be fair, Ace was pretty known in the underworld. Being the right hand of a mass murderer and a sociopath will do that to you.

"Should I?" Ace knew it was his way of minimizing and mocking her but she only mirrored his smirk. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Well, no matter. You should know though that I'm pretty good at this stuff. Me and my partner were quite famous."

"I don't entertain myself with gossip." Was his simple answer almost as if he was explaining to a little girl that no, he didn't play with dolls.

"Anyhow, I don't need my reputation to speak for me. Hear me out, let me be a part of your plan and then you'll see why he called me Ace." She proposed feigning confidence. To be fair, she knew that putting herself in the mercenary's dent could be extremely dangerous. Bane had the power to end in her life with just a snap of his fingers. However, Ace was sure of her abilities and she knew that Bane was a good strategist so he'd be able to see that.

"Ace up my sleeve?" He arched his brow at the not so subtle wordplay. What could you expect from a clown, Bane smugly concluded.

"You get the point then, great. I'll admit that I hated the name at the beginning. I'm more than a plan B, even my partner knew that. It was just for show. The only difference between men and women is cultural, after all." This was a fight Ace would always advocate for. Hell, her whole existence and the role she played were a testament to that. Of course, since the very first moment she started, Ace knew that in a predominantly male business she'd have to deal with a lot of sexism and belittling. But she was ready, she'd endured it all and now she'd mastered the art of shutting them up exposing their ignorance.

"Plato." He noted. Would you look at that. The notorious Bane, infamous mercenary and revolutionary, was familiar with the classics to the extent that he could recognize whose quotation it was. Remarkable.

"I'm surprised you know." She had to give him that. One had to give credit where credit is due.

"I know plenty of things." Well, now he was just being cocky. He could afford that, sure, but that didn't make it less annoying.

"Of course you do," she replied with a smug smile, "So what about that plan you were talking about?"

"You realize what you're getting into, don't you?"

"And you'll realize who you're dealing with because apparently, you don't yet."

"Very well." Nodding, he mutedly allowed her to join him. Returning to the map he was previously looking at, he moved so that there was enough space for her to stand next to him.

"Let's hear your idea then," he prompted her and she could feel the challenge in his tone. One she gladly took.

Once she offered him her plan, a better plan, that highlighted the weakness of the previous one, Bane valued his options and at the end, without any reservation, admitted that hers was indeed the most practical and efficient one. They were now all shackled in a van, armed to their necks, ready for the mission. She was sat in the backseat behind Bane who was sat in the passager seat, arm in her hands. They weren't the only one in the car, there were at least other five of Bane's soldiers but the only sound you could hear was the ones coming from the streets. Maybe it was because she was used to working with someone who couldn't shut up to save his life, but the silence was growing to be deafening.

"So, are sitting in front of us because you're big as a mountain or because you're the boss?" Her voice cut through the quiet vehicle. The men around and behind her didn't move a single muscle to show that they had heard her. However, Bane turned around slightly, now the sound of his mask hissing was louder and clearer. If looks could kill, Ace would at least have been cut by his.

"You should stay focused. This mission is extremely important. I won't tolerate any incompetence." He admonished her like a father would a little girl. And while Ace wouldn't mind that comparison in another context, wink wink, she also wouldn't mind if he was a bit looser.

"Please," rolling her eyes she leaned against the back of his seat, her mouth next to his ears since his face was still turned to her, "you really don't know anything about me, do you?" Feigning offence, her dark red painted lips pouted, Ace quickly wondered if he was just messing with her or if he was really clueless. Bane struck her as a quite thorough person, he'd have certainly done a background check on her by now. No matter, she decided, he's going to know soon either way.

"I'll just have to show you how I got my nickname, then," The pout had now shifted to a smirk and she leaned back to her seat. Her attention back out of the window while Bane's eyes lingered on her face a little longer before he turned back, imperceptibly shaking his head. This woman could either turned out to be a blessing or a curse. Now it wasn't the moment for such thoughts though, he had a mission to accomplish.

Since traffic hadn't been that bad, they had gotten to their destination quicker than expected. The van they were in pulled right outside the building they were going to sack, Gotham's bank, while the other vehicles and consequently Bane's men, parked on a secluded street right where the back exit of the building was. Those people were literally never going to see them coming. Before climbing out of the car, they assessed the situation, controlling that the information they got, on which they were basing the success of their plan, was still correct. Ace could only wait 'till Bane had finished his check-ups since she was sitting behind him and it was one of those cars where people in the back had to climb out through the reclined seat in front of them. The men were busy with their tools and electronic devices to notice that a slight change in plans was going to be needed.

Ace watched as a black limo neared the building and eventually stopped in front of it on the other side of the street. Whoever was in the car had to be someone important, not only because of his expensive choice of cars but also because he wasn't travelling alone. When a suited man stepped out of the car, he was immediately followed by a group of bodyguards as he made his way inside. Ace hadn't recognized the man, she hadn't even had the chance to look at his face but she knew that he wasn't supposed to be there. Her and one of Bane's hacker had studied the schedule for every single employee working that day and also the manager's one too. He wasn't scheduled. That also confirmed her theory of him being someone somewhat important along with wealthy since everybody knew that there was at least a one-month waiting list to be received by the bank's manager. And here he was instead, this mystery man who had put a glitch in their operation, that calmly strolled over the security checks like he owned the very ground he was walking on. Ace hated men like that. Here was another thing she had in common with Bane.

"He shouldn't be here." Bane's voice met her ears. Without turning to him, her eyes still in front of her trying to assess the number of the armed men, Ace simply nodded to let him know that she'd heard him.

"We'll have to use a different approach." She pointed out as the layout of a new plan was slowly forming in her mind.

"We should wait for other of my men to join us. We're not prepared to face such a number." Bane huffed, annoyed for the delay that this hitch was going to cause.

"Nonsense," Ace disagreed facing him, "I have an idea." A smug smirk formed on her face as she explained what her plan entailed. She was just going to need two men with her while Bane and every other man were to enter from the back. This was they were going to sneak up on those snob men up there and get what they came here for.

"Have you failed to see the van parked right there, which holds at least ten fully armed men? How are you going to hold them off with just two men? I was not aware you were suicidal." The patronizing tone in his voice was evident but Ace tried to ignore it. He doesn't know what you're capable of, she told herself. Not yet, she concluded.

"That's because I'm not. This is the second time you underestimate me, Bane. However, I won't take it personally since you've yet to see me in action. I assure you I'm more than capable of what I'm telling you." Her face now void of any smugness, her eyes solemn as she spoke, Bane wondered if she was too full of herself.

"What is the other name others call you?" He asked, knowing it had everything to do with her choice now that he saw her infamous smirk making a comeback.

"I'm the Lady of Chaos, oh great Bane. Whenever I go, that's what I bring and that's what I leave as a trail," sure of herself, Ace elaborated and in front of her confident façade, Bane could do nothing other than believing her.

"For your sake, I hope you deserve that title," he observed before he signalled to his men that it was time to move. While they silently climb out to make it to the back entrance unseen, Ace and the two men Bane chose, walked to the bank's entrance. To avoid drawing unwanted attention to them, she tried to make small talk with them. Attempted to tell a lame joke either, just to sell the idea that they were a group of friends and not some mercenaries on a mission. Despite the sketchiness of their clothes, they somehow managed to walk in without catching the eye of the mystery man's security.

As soon as they stepped in, the two security officers gestured for them to walk through the metal detector. That won't sit well with the two gun Ace was wearing but that won't be a problem. Not a second after the loud alarm of the detector was heard, Ace drew the gun shooting some warning bullets in the air before pointing to the officers that had stepped near her. Just like the two men behind her did. Understanding that they were greatly outnumbered, the officers hold their hands up letting their arms go.

"Now now gentlemen, would one of you be so kind as to show me your office?" Taking the piss out for men was Ace's favourite thing. She nodded the men to walk in front of her while the two mercenaries guarded the entry door.

She didn't have to walk long since their office was near the security check. Both men walked in and waited for Ace to instruct them what to do. She saw them glance at each other causing her to roll her eyes, she knew what was going through their heads.

"What a big of a fool do I have to be to have wondered away alone with two strong me like yourself, you must be wondering. Am I right?" She waited a bit before speaking again. Not that she was waiting for them to answer, merely for the theatrical effect. "But of course, because after all women are not that strong, are they?" Lowering her guns, she walked in front of them.

"I have taken upon me to prove everyone who would think that wrong," she foretold hinting at what she was going to do. But of course, they were too idiot to take the hint and so the same ease one would steal candy from a baby, Ace knocked them out with her guns. With the right amount of strength, one hit was all it took.

Chuckling while admiring her work, she felt oddly reworded. Men, she thought shaking her head. Taking her eyes away from their bodies, she looked around the room to look for what she needed.

"Ah," reaching for it she pushed the button that would ensure their plan could be carried out with any more surprises. The front doors of the bank automatically locked while a bulletproof gate quickly lowered, keeping out the inconvenience that was those armed men. Hearing the noise, Bane knew it was his signal to proceed. And so he did, swiftly and quickly making his way inside the building and the floor where he knew his target was.

In the meantime Ace that was soon joined by Bane's men, was making sure that all the people on the floor understood perfectly what they had to do and what will happen to them if they didn't obey. Once she was certain the situation was under control, she strolled to the floor where Bane was. He had been there for almost 15 minutes now, he should be about to finish by now. The two men that she had left behind knew that they had to join them in about five minutes so that they could leave unnoticed through the back entrance.

She reached the highest floor and was pleased to see that bane's men had subdued the guards and the bodyguards of the mystery man who had got caught in this. Smirking she saluted him as if to say "well done". It wasn't hard to spot the room where Bane was. Yes, it was the only room on the floor, right at the end of the hallway. But the screams coming out of it were a dead giveaway too. The mystery man was putting up a fight and causing problems, hence the screams.

Stepping in the room and assessing the situation, Ace could see that Bane was having no problem at all in dealing with the manager. The smug look he sent her way, confirmed that thought letting her know that he was almost done. So she turned to cause of such ruckus and noise.

"What's got your panties in a twist dear?" Using a patronizing tone, she crunched to be at his eye level.

"Of course he has a whore at a hand. What is your problem, lady? Don't you see he's a fucking beast?" Struggling in the mercenaries' grip, the man barked outraged. Ace couldn't stop herself from laughing in his face. Men.

"Haven't you heard? Behind a beast, there's a prince." Roughly patting his face, Ace readied to deliver the last blow. She had nothing against this young man. Well, apart from the fact that she hated everything he stood for and the city herself. Now, however, things had gotten personal. She hated misogynistic men, and even more misogynistic slurs.

She smiled sweetly at him, the gestured in sharp contrast of the movement of her hand. But that's what she wanted. Messing with his head so that he wouldn't be able to see her blow coming. And, as a matter of fact, he didn't. And that alone gave Ace immense satisfaction. Even more than seeing the red print of her hand on his cheek.

"Oh, and another thing," she feigned to have just remembered something, "don't ever refer to women you don't like as whores, okay? For future references." She added smiling with her lips in a thin line. "Good boy," stretching her legs she lifted from her position and moved aside knowing that now it was Bane's turn to deal with him.

Since he wasn't supposed to be here, Ace didn't know if he had been one of Bane's targets or if he had just become one. No matter, she knew that Bane would either let him leave to tell the tale and warn others or if he'd just kill him to avoid any further inconvenience. As the masked man walked toward them with long calculated strides, Ace knew. The man wasn't going to get the chance to put her advice into practice. And it seemed that the man understood that too and showed that he hadn't understood his lesson since he started begging her, thinking her as the weak one.

"Don't you have a heart?" The man pleaded to try to appeal to her humanity but it only made her laugh.

"Isn't it funny that people always assume that you're heartless?" She pondered out loud looking at Bane, "instead of facing the fact that maybe it's this wicked world we live in that made us who we are." Finishing her thought, she bent down so that her mouth was close to the man's ear.

"I wasn't born without a heart nor with all these scars, neither of us were." She whispered like it was a secret but really, was it so hard to understand? Quickly glancing around her shoulder, she made sure that Bane knew her next move. He slightly nodded. She had his approval.

"We are a product of the circumstances of our lives, Bane." Finishing the man off, she stood up rubbing the dirt off her hands and turned to the masked man. "We're not so different, you and I."

"While I'm not sure about the accuracy of that statement, I wouldn't mind having an ace up my sleeves." The wrinkles around his eyes became more evident as he recalled the wordplay she had used during their first meeting. But that wasn't his style. "Or you could be my Lady of Chaos, my Persephone." He added displaying once again his knowledge of the classics, unaware that it was the perfect way to appeal to her. After that and after seeing the way he worked, the way he had treated her, with respect, like they were equals, she didn't need any further convincing. She was sold. Taking the hand he was offering her, she sealed the deal. He could be the Hades to her Persephone. Both roles unexpectedly fitted them perfectly. Content for the successful outcome of the mission and the allegiance that had just been sealed, they both walked out without rush knowing that they were in control. Useless were the police sirens that were approaching. They didn't stand a chance against them. And while they didn't know it yet, as Bane and Ace glanced at each other once they were sat in the car, she knew that everyone was going to know it pretty soon. Very soon.

A/N: for anyone who doesn't know the name Persephone means "the one who brings chaos", so I thought it was extremely fitting Ace.

#bane #bane dcu #bane imagine #bane x oc #bane fic #bane one shot #the dark knight rises #TDKR #tom hardy bane #tom hardy imagines #bane fanfiction #i missed writing for him

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