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sweetums0kitty · 1 year

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Good Things in Small Packages

Edward Nashton x Soft!Dom reader

Warnings: Bondage, edging, 18+, Minors DNI.

Summary: Eddie won't listen when you say he's beautiful, what better way to convince him than a game of cat and mouse

Commission for @lovesickrobotic

“Lovely, just lovely.” Placing a long revenant kiss onto the cherubic cheek of the man securely bound below you. His lengthy form contorted slightly pushing himself further into the mess of pillows you had set him against. Pouting you leaned over and gently grasped his flushed cheek tilting the rounded face of your beloved. Edward was caught instantly within the intensity of the gaze. From the way you held his face gently stroking the right side with your left hand while the other was tracing the tendons of his throat. His pulse was racing wildly causing a gentle giggle to bubble up and out of your chest. "Eddie!" cooing you lent forward and placed another kiss on his fervent skin eliciting a shrill whine that buzzed your lips pleasantly. Edward squirmed under your touch but it was no use the silken fabric contoured around his plush form binding him to your will. Which, presently was to absolutely drench his entire being with as much affection as you could. Usually, Eddie would shy away from your praise, ducking his head to avoid the intensive expressions of love you desperately longed to lavish him with. Well! No more could he dodge you, once and for all you were going to worship Eddie the way he deserved.

Moving your lips downward you began to pepper little pecks and licks into the lower portion of Edward's face. Making doubly sure to reserve your slowest kisses for those points on his neck that pulled the sweetest sounds from within. "Y-Y/N I-!" nipping lightly at his Adam's apple Edward was bucking below you wildly. The contact with your soft lips and curved form was entirely too much and nothing at all. Internally a war was brewing in your beloved. The softer part of Edward was clawing fiercely to accept your affections, sink himself back into the pillows, and stuffed toys you had placed around his bound form in devoted adoration. But no matter how he tried the nagging voice in his brain slithered in whispering that he wasn't worth your love, and didn't deserve to be cared for in this way. There wasn't a time before meeting and falling in love with you that Eddie was shown this level of care, why should he get used to it now? Why should he grow fond of the feeling of your lips on his feverish skin… When… when… Before the negative spiral could truly take root you had crashed your lips to his in a fervent kiss chasing away the storm clouds and refocusing Edward's attention on you.

"You're thinking too much!" cooing in a sing-song tone. Your nails gently scratched his scalp stroking Edward's soft brown hair. Leaning into your touch your boyfriend mewled forlornly. "Sorry… I guess I'm not good at this whole… being loved thing." shrugging to the best of his ability despite the bindings. Frowning slightly as you thought of how best to get Edward's mind focused where it really belonged. Slowly a wicked grin formed on your lips. "Eddie~!" purring seductively as you sensually stroked his protruding stomach. You adored every inch of his lengthy body but his tenderly soft tummy was your favorite. He was staring at you with a slightly concerned expression saying nothing. Kissing his cheek you leaned into his ear whispering lowly "You wanna play a game?" Words dripping with seduction watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed shallowly. "What kind of game?" came his nervous reply. Giggling you wrapped an arm around his shoulders as you tugged him flush to your body. The sides of your breasts were pressing into his pallid chest. With every breath you took, they pushed tantalizingly close to his. "One we can both win.. one that lets me open you up. You are my special gift aren't you?" With the way, the bright green pupils behind his lenses were dilated you knew you were on the right track. "I- uh.. yeah." the reply was lame but blood was quickly rushing out of Edward's brain as you began to kiss your way down his body.

"Wha-ahh-t's the game?" voice cracking as your warm, wet tongue swirled around his quickly hardening nipples. Causing a hissing sigh from his plush lips when you began to suck gently. Kissing and licking the buds. Your other hand rolled the pert nipple under your thumb. Eddie's chest heaved as he moaned from your worship. Popping off his chest you kissed between his collarbones and laid them into his sternum. "Mm, since you can't seem to find it in you to accept my praise.. even though it's the absolute truth! I thought we'd try a little "positive reinforcement" using your fingers to continue to massage his chest. "How are you going to that?" his voice melted into a high-pitched whine of disappointment as you moved downwards licking lazily around the ribbons that crissed and crossed over his stomach. Bits of him sagged over the bows. He was your beautiful gift. Time to start unraveling the wrappings that held Eddie to earth. Nibbling gently at the pudge that resided there. It always struck you dumb over how beautiful he was in all his soft curves and long features. There was a grace in how his brow furrowed while working out a puzzle, how fast his brilliant mind would work out a problem and find the answer. However, you found him most beautiful at the precipice between brilliance and pure animal lust. Emerald eyes locked onto your hand as it slowly drifted down between his soft thighs. Gently running your nails between the binds around his flesh, twirling around his already leaking cock. You giggled softly as his hips bucked into your phantom touches. "God Eddie…" breathing heavily as you pressed warm, worshipful kisses around the skin of his inner thighs, before drifting your mouth over and hotly kissing his weeping cockhead. Listening to the sweet sobs that fell from his throat all while you worshipped him. Suddenly you bent up from between his legs using the binds at his chest as leverage to bring him in for a kiss that was all passion, yet still gentle. Softly exploring the cavern of his mouth with your tongue. His danced along yours in a fluttering mating ritual that pulled a guttural groan from deep within your throat.

Pulling way to cradle his flushed cheeks you gazed down at his little love-drunk smile. Gently you moved back down his body sitting between his thighs. "You ready to play the game sweetie?" Looking up at him through your lashes catching sight of his quickly bobbing mess of tawny brown hair "M'ready….." hips squirming together to the best of his abilities, you sighed quickly pinning him down. "Easy Eddie!" Cooing you gently stoked his thigh letting your hand fall to the taught base of his cock, where your silky soft hand ghosted up the shaft gripping it firmly in the middle. Letting it rest as you looked directly into his blown-out eyes, nearly black with lust. "The game is simple, I'm going to play with your cock and every time I compliment you, you're going to repeat what I say back or I'll stop stroking. Gluping down the lump in his throat your sweet little gift nodded shallowly to show he understood. Smiling at his acceptance you placed your other hand on his lower stomach, petting the flushed skin that resided there. "Good boy."

It was then time for the game to begin. All at once you had spit into your hand and then began to slowly pump his cock. Up, down, up, down, it was methodical the way you were massaging his skin. Thumb traveling up to circle his red tip. Your hands were heaven on earth for Edward as low sobbing moans flowed out of him. Enjoying the way his chest heaved as all the mussels in his body strained against the ribbons. In a moment your hand stopped pulling his attention to your face. "Eddie… You're so beautiful, the most beautiful person in Gotham." Starting with a hard one probably wasn't fair, but it was for the best. Almost gagging on his words Eddie's broken little voice choked out "I-I'm beau-fuck!" Your pointer finger and thumb had formed a ring and that was what currently was rubbing against his throbbing shaft going from feather soft to tight against him in an instant. "I-I- I'm beautiful! T-the most beautiful person- in Gah-Gotham!" squealing at the end as your nails brushed his leaky slit. "Good job Eddie!" cooing his flushed, sweat-covered skin, the silly round smile painted onto his cheeks Time for a harder one." You matter so so much, I don't know what I would do without you." He squeaked as you kept rubbing his cock milking the compliments from his lips. The same way you were milking the pre-cum from his tip.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, in an almost pained expression, Your words, he heard them, they slammed into his heart like a fright train but he just couldn't get them to repeat, "Y-Y/N I can't- I'm not!" babbling as his body kept pulling at the ribbons, thrashing back into the large squishmallow he was snuggled into. Tears had begun to form on long bottom lashes, and the pink rose petals of his bottom lip wobbled tragically. Still, your hand deftly continued to rub at him. "Yes you can baby, I know you can." crooning softly. Your warm lips kissed his stomach lazily as you rested your head on his lower abdomen. "You don't want me to stop do you?" before you could finish asking Eddie shrieked no. Laughing slightly at the response you smiled while using your other hand to wipe his tears. "Recite." firmly holding his cock in place.

"I… matter so, so much" Choking down a sob as you kept massaging his dick Eddie managed to continue his recitation. Over and over your words were pounded into his skull as you expertly kept him on the edge of his orgasm. Finally coming to the very last set of words for him to repeat. Smoothly you had settled into Eddie's side a fitting place to be when he reached his end. "I'm a very good boy, who is going to cum all over my hand." In his state of delirium, Eddie didn't notice your command. Too busy being a blushing fucked out mess he mumbled the words back. "M'a very good boy… Gunna cum all o'ver your hand." It wasn't until you were letting go of his cock and he felt the thick ropes of cum hitting his stomach that he realized the whining moans were his own. You soothed Eddie through his orgasm gently cradling him in your arms as you stroked his hair. "Thank you, baby, you did so good for me." Peppering kisses into his cheeks. Coming down for his high Edward snuggled into your arms. He was stripped bare and laid out before you. But instead of mocking him or ripping his heart out you took the parts of him that sagged with lack of love and filled it with your adoration for him. "I- love you Y/N.." gasping between heaving breaths. You simply returned your lips to his kissing Edward as if your lives depended on it.

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Bestie- u didn’t just deliver u served and I’m the greedy gremlin who’s eating this up, that was amazing, he’s so skrunkly I love him 😔Ur gonna kill me here but bestie I need them to meet I can’t 😩

This is the effect of me doing sudokus and crosswords in the ethics lecture... Was listening to Jasmine Thompson's cover of 'Rather Be' while writing this and honestly?? A whole mood

Imagine the Riddler being your secret admirer. - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4] [Part 5]

That day felt weirdly long as if hours were stretching out as much as the universe would allow them to. You haven't felt that tired and fed up in quite a while, dreaming about the soft comfort of your own bed during your commute back home.

Home, however, had another surprise in store for you:

"Perfect timing, Eddie," you said to yourself as you tore the envelope off your front door. "Could use a little pick-me-up."

You opened the letter and couldn't help the surprise at the front of the card you were given. For some reason, it said "Invitation" in fancy, glittery writing. Inside, on the left side was another torn-out page from a poetry collection.

Underneath an apple-tree Sat a maiden and her lover; And the thoughts within her he Yearned, in silence, to discover.

Under the piece of a poem were written only two words: "Meet me". Your gaze followed the vague message to the right side of the card where a small map was drawn. It looked like a bird's view of a restaurant or a bar with a question mark drawn over one of the, as you had assumed, tables like the little map was the continuation of the unfinished sentence. On top of the drawing was scribbled an address, a date and an hour. You were supposed to meet him in a week's time.

From that moment on, you could hardly think about anything else and, little did you know, so did he. It was going to be a fateful Wednesday evening.

"That's the place," you whispered to yourself as you checked the GPS on your phone again.

You found yourself standing before a desolate diner that looked like it was taken straight out of Quentin Tarantino's movie. But you had to admit that the Pulp Fiction feel to the locale was charming in some way as if gracefully continuing your dilemma whether you were now the main character of a rom-com or a slash horror film.

"Here goes nothing," you said with a sigh. With each step towards the front door of the diner, your restlessness was only increasing.

The bell near the door chimed cheerfully as you hesitantly entered the building. At first, you couldn't see a soul inside - even the waitress was more of a cryptid as you could only hear her quiet chatter with the cooks coming from the kitchen. They left the door slightly ajar. According to the drawing, the marked table should be the one under the vintage-style graffiti with a pin-up girl holding a tray of apple pie. Your heart stopped for a moment, seeing that the booth was occupied.

Ever since he sat down in that booth, he'd been eyeing the door, waiting for the fateful moment you enter. The muffled laughter of the waitress rung in his ears and Eddie was half-convinced that she was laughing at him. After all, who was he to ever believe that you were actually going to show up? That you would be anything but disgusted with him?

He watched as you checked his little drawing once more. You turned your head towards him and Ed could swear the time actually slowed down if not entirely stopped when your gaze met his. The moment you realized that it was him, a bright smile appeared on your face, making Eddie's palms even sweatier than they already were. He just knew he was going to mess things up - there was no way in Hell that he could impress you. That much was obvious to Eddie.

You were just so... unreal to him. There he was: the loser, the loner, the butt of the joke and there were you, the epitome of grace approaching the table he was sitting at. He couldn't believe his own senses, some anxious beast still gnawing at his thoughts, that you didn't immediately turn around and left once you saw him.

"Hey," you said softly as you sat down across from him.

"H-hi," he nervously stuttered out.

Eddie looked more or less as you expected him to: a quiet, kind of awkward and easy-to-overlook guy who had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Your friends always found it very amusing that you had a thing for underdogs. No matter how strange it might sound to anyone else, you thought there was a certain charm to his awkwardness like an adorable deer caught in headlights.

"You have great taste." You waved the "invitation" card before putting it back into your purse.

"In what?" Eddie asked sheepishly. His mind was fluctuating between blankness and intrusive thoughts, so coherence and reason weren't something he could count on at the moment.

You shrugged. That bright, showstopping smile was still on your face and Eddie felt he wouldn't be able to look away from you even if he wanted to. "Poetry. Flowers," you counted. "Girls."

His chubby cheeks turned crimson red at your words. Your confidence made him even more aware of his incapacitating insecurity. Eddie believed his intrusive thoughts: there was nothing he could delight you with.

"I loved your riddles," you confessed. "You're really good at it."

A flutter of his heart and a ray of lovesick hope.

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imaginedisish · 2 years

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I Want You To Love Me (Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello friends!!! Here is the Bruce Wayne fic I promised!! This is a combination of the last two Bruce x Reader requests I got (reader finding his journal/a big fight with Bruce), so I hope you guys enjoy!! I based this on “I Want You To Love Me,” by Fiona Apple. It felt like it fit. Next post will most likely be chapter two of “Two Weeks,” (my Din Djarin chaptered fic). Also, lmk if you want a part 2 of this with smut. See you guys soon!

Summary: You and Bruce get into your biggest fight yet, which leads you to find something you shouldn’t have seen.

Warnings: Major mutual pining, lots of angst but eventual fluff. Cursing most likely, mentions of gun shots/wounds/blood/typical cannon violence. Probably some grammatical errors I didn’t catch.

Word Count: 3,095

The rain violently tapped against the window, threatening to break through the glass and flood the room. You almost wish it would. At least that would stop Bruce’s unwavering tirade on your supposedly irresponsible and dangerous behavior.

You had gotten a bit too close to one of the Penguin’s bodyguards during a bust at the Iceberg Lounge. You thought you were helping Bruce, keeping the guards off him as he went in for the Penguin. You underestimated their strength and overestimated yours.

And then, suddenly, as if out of nothing, you were dripping blood. You hadn’t even felt the stinging pain stemming from your waist until a few minutes after the shot had rung out.

You didn’t mean to get shot. That obviously was not a part of your plan. But, it happened. Luckily, the wound was completely external, and only just barely brushed up against you. Alfred was able to patch you up in seconds. It had cost you the mission, but you were simply thankful to be alive.

Bruce, on the other hand, was unfathomably mad. This was easily the angriest you had ever seen him. Once Alfred closed your wound, Bruce began his assault on your decision-making skills.

“What made you think that was gonna work?” He spits, his brows furrowing as he walks towards you. You watch Alfred back out of the bedroom out of the corner of your eye. You push yourself to sit up against the headboard of Bruce’s bed, grabbing at your side as the wound continues to sting.

You inhale deeply, shutting your eyes, mincing your words in a way to avoid further persecution from Bruce. “I thought I could take them,” You explain, your voice shaky in a mixture of pain and fear. “I guess I was wrong.”

Bruce shakes his head as he reaches the foot of the bed. “You guess you were wrong?” He scoffs, his fingers gripping tightly around the footboard, his hands forming fists as his knuckles turn white. “That’s the understatement of the year.” His eyes refuse to break away from yours, ripping into your soul, judging you for the crimes you seemingly committed.

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes as Bruce’s relentless words fill your brain. He was right. He was forced to stop what he was doing to save you. The Penguin got away, and you were left with less leverage and strength than you had started the day with. You had completely ruined the mission. It was all your fault.

“I-I’m sorry,” You choke. You pull your knees into your chest, clutching them tightly inside your arms. “I didn’t mean to-,”

He cuts you off immediately. “But you did, and it cost us everything,” He shouts. He finally breaks his eye contact with you, his head hanging in between his shoulders. You knew this was serious, but not this serious. This was about something else, and you weren’t going to allow him to project his stresses and fears onto you.

“It happened, and it’s over. We’re going to be fine,” You say, letting go of your legs to swing them around to the side of the bed. You place your feet on the wooden floors below, standing up and walking to Bruce’s side. “We’ll keep moving for-,”

He cuts you off again, his eyes opening as his head turns towards you to meet your gaze. “We?” His voice is harsh and heavy. “There’s no we anymore.”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. His words repeat over and over again in your head. This was far too overwhelming for you to handle, especially at a time like this. You blink just once and an army of tears storm down your cheeks.

“There stopped being an us when…” He trails off, as if he’s gauging whether he should say what’s on his mind. “When your brother died.”

You’re immediately brought back to election night. Your brother had just been elected mayor of Gotham. You had convinced Bruce to take the night off, despite his pleas to attend the celebration as Batman, lurking in the shadows. He gave into you, as he so often did, and you both spent the night as civilians.

And then, all hell broke loose. You watched your brother get shot, and from the wings of the stage, you were unable to do anything.

What Bruce didn’t realize was that you blamed yourself. Bruce had been right, and had you listened to him, your brother wouldn’t be dead.

That was the last straw, the thing that set you off. Bruce could attack your abilities, criticize your intelligence, but he could not blame the death of your brother on you. You figured the man who had been your best friend for your entire life would never say something so rude, so aggressive. He took it a step too far, and you weren’t going to let him win now.

You turn away from him and walk towards the door. You pause, turning to face him, hoping he could redeem himself. “So you’re really blaming all this on me?” You ask, your voice cold, laden with anger.

Bruce is silent. He doesn’t look at you. He keeps his hands pressed against the footboard of his bed, his back facing you. His silence is deafening. It says more than enough.

“Wow,” You mutter, forcing your legs to move back towards Bruce. You wanted him to hear you, to see how upset he made you. You stumble as you walk, having forgotten about your injury, and as if by instinct, Bruce rushes over to you. He grabs a hold of your wrist, and you try your best to wiggle out of his grasp, but he doesn’t budge.

“Why are you helping me?” You question, resentment bursting in each word that falls from your lips. “Aren’t I your problem?”

“No,” He barely whispers, as if he didn’t want you to hear him. His words shock you. If it wasn’t you, then what was it? What was making him act this way towards you?

He guides you through the dark, wooden door of his room and out to the hallway. After a few steps, Bruce stops, and twists the knob of a closed door. The room inside is massive, but not as large as Bruce’s. There’s a canopy bed in the center, dawned in white sheets. Most of the walls are covered in wooden bookshelves, and the ones that aren’t reveal the room to be a pale green.

It was beautiful, as if it was made for you.

Once he’s sure you’ve got your footing, he lets go of your wrist. You hate to admit it, but you instantly miss the contact of his skin on yours. It’s a feeling you’ve done your best to fight, a feeling that you’ve pushed down over the years.

You shove the thoughts to the back of your head and wobble over to the bed. You sit down on the plush mattress. It’s far more comfortable than you had anticipated, and you feel like you’re practically melting into the sheets.

But still, despite the room that’s clearly been made to match your tastes, the warm comforter, and Bruce’s denial that you’re to blame, his words continued to plague you.

There stopped being an us when your brother died…

You couldn’t hold back anymore. “If I’m not your problem,” You start, immediately regretting saying anything at all. But there’s no backing down now, you have to commit to the role you’ve given yourself. “Then what is? What’s going on?”

Bruce is silent again. His hands press down into the pockets of his sweatpants as he stares down at his feet. He isn’t going to tell you. He isn’t going to say a single word. You watch him take shallow breaths, one right after another. He finally looks up at you, running a hand through the bangs that lined his forehead.

But again, he doesn’t say a word.

He turns towards the door and grabs the knob. His steps are heavy, as if his mind is struggling to control his body. He’s unsure of himself. It’s clear that part of him wants to stay, to apologize, to make things right, while the other part of him is forever trapped in the revolving door of making Gotham a better place.

“Where are you going?” You ask, forcing him to stop for just a split second. But you already know the answer. There’s a brief moment of silence, where all you can hear is the faint sound of the central air whirling in the hidden vents of the tower. You wonder what else is hiding in this place.

“Out,” He says curtly. You could’ve guessed that.

And then he was gone.

——————————————————————————————————————

You’re starting to get restless sitting in the room by yourself. You aren’t tired, especially not when Bruce is out by himself. Sure, you messed up every now and again, but most of the time you were an asset to Bruce. You remember him saying once that he was shocked that he had ever done the Gotham Project without you. All of that was over now, though.

You decided you’d wait for him in the cave. You needed to finish the discussion. There was no way that this was how things were going to end. And so, you push yourself out of bed, clutching your wound in the process. You were surprised at the lack of pain as you walked towards the door and out into the hallway. The stairs weren’t too much of a problem either.

“You should really be in bed,” Alfred mutters. You turn your head to face him and smile softly. “Master Bruce asked me to make sure you don’t move a muscle. He’s quite worried about your condition.”

“I’m fine, really,” You ensure, turning towards the stairs down to the cave. “I’m just gonna head down for a bit.” Alfred nods in response, and you carefully start down the stairs.

You immediately notice that Bruce’s suit and bike are gone. You knew that it was Batman and not Bruce that had left, but this confirmed it. You had silently hoped that he had just gone for a ride to blow off some steam, but you knew that wasn’t the case. That would never be the case for him. You took a deep breath, hoping that he’d be alright by himself.

You shuffle against the cold ground, and you make a mental note to wear shoes next time you’re down here. You wondered how Bruce spent so much time in the cave. It was uncomfortable, freezing, and rather unwelcoming.

Bruce had left his music on. I Want You To Love Me by Fiona Apple reverberates against the uninsulated walls of the room.

I've waited many years

Every print I left upon the track

Has led me here

And next year it'll be clear

This was only leading me to that

And by that time

I hope that you love me

You Love me

After a few moments of walking around the cave, you finally sit down in a swivel chair in front of a desk. You look down to see a notebook, and you open it up. You start to read through the pages, each filled with data and logs regarding the missions you and Bruce have gone on. It doesn’t seem to be a personal journal, so you continue on.

But you were completely wrong.

You hit a less statistical entry. It started normal, discussing this last night out, but then quickly turned into something else entirely.

It was about you. You know you shouldn’t read it, but you can’t help it. If he won’t tell you what’s going on, you needed to find out for yourself. And so, you started to read the page:

I don’t know what to do. I have to keep her safe. She’s all I have left. If she ends up like her brother, I won’t be able to live with myself.

She got shot tonight, and it was my fault. I didn’t have her back, and if I just stayed a little closer to her the whole thing could have been avoided. I was so angry with myself that I took it out on her…I made her think it was her fault. But it wasn’t, none of this ever has been. This, and all of it, is on me.

I need to get her away from all this. I should’ve never let her join the project. She’s going to be another casualty, another thing I can’t control. The second her brother died, I should have told her to leave me, to leave Gotham. Keeping her here would be selfish. It doesn’t matter that I want her to stay with me, or that she thinks she wants to stay. She deserves to be happy, to live a life that means something.

I didn’t even know how to speak to her tonight. Her sitting in my bed, bleeding out, it was too much to handle. This is it, this is the last straw.

I can’t tell her how I feel, especially not now. It’s too late for that. And this hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt before.

But I love her, more than words can say.

You blink away the tears in your eyes and they roll down your cheeks. You were shocked, but it all made sense now. His cold and callous attitude, his silence, the comment about your brother. None of it was rooted in hating you or blaming you. It was rooted in loving you.

Your breaths are shallow and uncontrollable. You feel like you’ve just ran a mile, like you hiked up a mountain and then proceeded to fall down the other side of it. Those were the words you had been waiting to hear for years. Your tears drip softly down your cheeks, dropping to the pages of the journal below.

The sound of a motorcycle screeching off in the distance, followed by the sound of the garage being pulled up, rips you from your thoughts. Your head whips over towards the noise, and you watch as Bruce enters the cave.

He notices you and your tears immediately, quickly parking his bike and taking off his helmet. He rushes over to you, kneeling down to your level, his hands firmly grasping your thighs in an attempt to comfort you.

“Hey,” He whispers, his demeanor completely different from before. “I’m so sorry,” He says, repeating the words as if he’s afraid you can’t hear them.

Bruce turns his head towards the desk and sees the journal. You watch him carefully, noting the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows harshly. He studies the journal a bit more closely, and his eyes widen as he realizes what page you’ve landed on.

You take a deep breath, ready to apologize as firmly and intensely as you possibly can. You wipe your tears away. “Listen, I didn’t mean-,”

“I love you,” He cuts you off. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest. You’re shocked at his kindness. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter. “You deserve to hear it from me.”

“Bruce, I-,”

He cuts you off again, “But you need to leave. I can’t lose you too.” You can see the tears welling up in his eyes. There’s a soft, bittersweet smile playing upon his lips as his fights back his tears. “I love you so much, you have no idea…” He trails off, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. He sniffles a bit, tears finally spilling down his cheeks.

“I love you too, Bruce,” You whisper. “But I’m not leaving,” You say firmly, bringing a hand up to his cheek to swipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb.

His hands leave your thighs and he stands up. You shiver at the lack of contact, instantly being reminded of the frigid temperature of the cave. You stand up and follow him as he walks over towards the other side of the room. He’s pacing nervously, unsure of what to do or say next.

“You’re not supposed to love me,” He says, his back to you as he rests his hands against an open spot on a table.

You shake your head. “I’ve loved you since we first met, Bruce,” You say, apprehensively taking a step closer to him. “And you aren’t going to lose me, I promise.”

He whips around to face you, his eyes red from exhaustion and crying. “You can’t promise that, you know you can’t.” He takes a step towards you, his hand coming up to rest on the nape of your neck. The touch sends chills down your spine. It was something you had wanted to feel for so long. “If I can’t protect you, then-,”

You cut him off this time, “I can protect myself,” You say, shivering as Bruce’s other hand snakes around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. You were just inches away from his face, from his lips. The tension was palpable. “I’m staying. It’s not up for debate.” Your words are final, unwavering, firm. You’re not quite sure how you were able to get them out, given how Bruce continues to close the space between you and him.

“Why do you want this?” He questions, his breath brushing against your cheek. He looks at you in disbelief. “You could live wherever you want, I’d make sure of that.”

You smile softly. “Because it wouldn’t be living without you.”

And with that, his lips come crashing down onto yours. The tension resolves itself, melting away as he pushes himself closer to you, as if being flush against you just wasn’t enough. Bruce’s hand makes its way under your shirt, his fingers trailing across the skin of your back.

His lips part from yours, but his arms keep you pressed against his chest. He pulls you in tighter as his head burrows into the crook of your neck. He’s savoring you, cherishing you, as if in seconds you’ll turn to dust, disappear into nothing.

His lips brush against your ears. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” He whispers.

“Me too.”

And now you had it.

And I know none of this'll matter in the long run

But I know a sound is still a sound around no-one

And while I'm in this body I want somebody to want

And I want what I want

And I want you to love me

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 1 year

Text

Bruce Wayne x Female!Reader

Title: “Bringing Me Out of the Darkness.”

Pairings: Bruce Wayne (Battinson) and female reader

Warnings: Mentions of depression, mood swings, and anger.

—————-

Bruce felt like his life was mostly consumed of darkness. His parents being killed right in front of him, messed him up in more ways than he could count. He was traumatized, he was frustrated with himself; he could have stopped it.

That was what he remembered every year that marked the anniversary of their death. Bruce was reminded year after year, month after month, week after week, and day after day: “I could have done something. Anything. There could have been more that I could have done.”

And if anyone tried to tell him differently, he would get mad. Boy, was Bruce filled with anger. He couldn’t remember a day he was happy. Not until he met you.

Before then, there was no use in trying to remember what true happiness felt like. But that anger was still there, he felt it every night when he was protecting Gotham, he felt it when he would be fighting a criminal. He felt it randomly at night, in the morning, and even when he felt content, the anger would creep its way in. The depression would set in at random points in the day or month; he would be content and happy, and his mood would change entirely.

He always told Alfred that no one would want to deal with his erratic emotion changes, and yet, here you were. Five months in, and you hadn’t run away, or left him because of it.

One night, in particular, was hard on Bruce. It had been twenty years since the death of his parents. He watched the clock tick to the exact time, at which they died; 8:28 PM. He was on a building looking down at the city of Gotham, and he could feel the tears sting his eyes.

He was 32 years old, and still in pain from his parent's death. The anxiety, the brokenness he felt inside, took the air from his lungs, making him collapse to the ground. Bruce had to go back home; he couldn’t stand another second in the filth that filled Gotham’s streets.

When he had gotten back to the manor, he didn't even bother to undress out of his suit. Instead, he trudged up the stairs, and went into the bedroom he shared with you. He could hear you singing in the shower, and he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bathroom door.

You were this bright, ball of sunshine, and he felt like the dark clouds that would ruin a perfectly beautiful day. He prayed and hoped that he would never drag you down into the darkness with him.

He didn't know how long he sat there in his thoughts, nor did he ever hear the shower turn off. But when he looked up, you were standing in the bathroom doorway with a blush pink babydoll nightgown on. Your wet hair was wrapped in a towel, and Bruce hadn't seen anything more perfect in his life.

His eyes followed down your body. "Bruce, are you okay?" you questioned. When he didn't answer, you slowly approached him; his cowl was still on and you took it off, setting it on the night stand.

Bruce's hair was sweaty and messy from the cowl. Your hands ran through his hair, and Bruce leaned into your touch. You knew it was the anniversary of his parent's death, so you sat down on his thigh. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you cradled him into your body.

The very town his parents tried to help and fix, took his parents away from him. Bruce questioned out loud, “Why do I protect the city that will never change?”

Your hand went to the chest of his suit, and it hovered over where his heart was. Warmth spread through Bruce's body as your index finger lifted up his chin so you could look into his eyes. When his eyes met yours, your forehead rested on his; your words came out like silk:

"Because of this.” You said while rubbing over his heart. “You protect it because you want it to be a better place, Bruce. You're protecting those who are not able to protect themselves. You give people hope. You are being the person you wished was there for you when you were in that alleyway." you whispered that last part.

He knew you were always stepping on eggshells around him. He knew you never wanted to say the wrong thing, or hurt his feelings, or reopen old wounds. But you were right; the words you spoke were nothing but the truth, he had just forgotten why he did what he did.

"Why are you with me? How can you put up with me being like this all of the time?" he questioned. He hated this part of him; he always had to be reassured, but he couldn't help it. But you understood. You didn't get mad or judge him for it either.

Your nose brushed his, "I know this day is hard for you... I know life is a constant battle for you... But I am here, and I'm not leaving. I'm here as long as you want me to be here, because I want this, I want you, Bruce." he watched your lips as you spoke these words to him.

His breath got caught in his throat, when you hand caressed his cheek, "I love you, Bruce. I will love you on the good days and the really bad ones."

Bruce had finally felt the anger, the sadness, and the anxiety leave his body. He felt content and you leaned your head on his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. "Thank you." he whispered with a breath of relief, and contentment.

When you laid down next to him on the bed, you wiped the black makeup from around his eyes with a makeup wipe. You pressed a kiss on his temple, then his forehead, under his eye, on his nose, and on his chin. Your lips were like a medication for Bruce, and when you pressed a kiss to lips, he held your face close.

He didn't want to pull away from you, so naturally the kiss deepened, and became more intimate. Bruce had never gotten this close to anyone before, and with you, he wanted to be closer. He had finally let you in, and he was glad he did.

Bruce hovered over you, and he leaned his forehead against yours, "Thank you, Y/N." He pressed a long kiss to your lips, "I-I love you." he whispered against your lips. And once more, he thanked you, "You are the light in my darkness." A smile broke across your face, and you pulled him back down to your lips.

That night, he didn't look at the clock to see the time. Normally, he would sit there and recall what he did every hour the night his family had died. He focused on you, and the future he wanted with you. He had to make Gotham a safer place for you. Bruce had to better himself for you, but more than anything, he wanted to be better for himself too.

When you had finally fallen asleep, Bruce watched you intently. His fingers gently pushed the hair from your face and whispered one last time: "Thank you for bringing me out of the darkness."

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

I hope you guys enjoyed this! This is intended for the Battinson Bruce Wayne, but you can picture whichever version of Bruce you want. Feedback is always helpful! <3

#bruce x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x batmom #battinson #the batman 2022 #the batman x reader #the batman imagine

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madwomansapologist · 8 months

Note

Mint chip — how did they court their lover? + Bruce/Batman 😳🙏

mint chip — how did they court their lover?

⤷ with: bruce wayne

I actually can talk about it with proper knowledge because he's my husband. So much easier that way.

It will really depend on who you meet first. The whole flow of your relationship (either it's as friends, enemies, lovers), can be decided in minutos upon Bruce meeting you.

If you meet Bruce Wayne first, his whole playboy persona will be an important part of your first interactions.

If you're a reporter who can see through his act, than there would be a sense of a shared secret between you both. You made through one of his many masks, which brings you closer to the real person. In cases like that, his courting will be more honest. There is no need to pretend to be shallow.

He will watch over you, both as Bruce and Batman. He will watch you on the news, hear all your programs during work (it help him focus), read your articles. Then when he talks to you, he can talk about the things that matter to you. He will also watch recording the news whenever he know you're on a dangerous place. He will protect you from afair without you even knowing.

If you're someone from his friend circle, another bilionaire of Gotham, than he have this mask he won't let go. But even tho you had to deal with his act, there is some sense of belonging. Of understanding him. Bruce can pretend from whoever long he need, but there is no way to foolish a real friend.

You care about him. You can see how he apparently doesn't sleep. That he's always in pain somehow. And when Bruce understands that his act didn't fully confused you, then he knows he have someone caring for him. Someone able to look at him and call his bullshit out. Someone that will kick him off parties saying he needs to sleep or he will never see you again.

If that's the case, than Bruce will court you as most imagine. Flowers, caring for you during your day by day, showing his more possessive side during events. In some ways, Bruce will be trying to give all you care back to you.

Now as an enemy, that would be kind of dificult for the both of you. You two have diferences that can't be overlooked. There is a abysm between you both, and somehow that's what brings you closer to one another. There is a sense of understanding, of longing, that can only be shared by two enemies.

You both have secrets. Masks and more masks to protect yourselfs. Is he Bruce Wayne, the man that suffers and loses and pretends, or is he Batman, the thing that endure and change and pretend? Which one is the real one and which one the act? How could he ever come to an answer for that?

And you, the love he feels for you, will just make those questions harder to answer. When he fights with you, he would rather not hurt you. If he sees you, he would observe you for more reasons than just the public safety. When he has the chance of really stopping you, somehow he can't.

What every situation has in common is that Bruce will love from distance before getting close. He will protect you, you being able to do it for yourself or not. He may stay away out of distrust, to protect, to learn more about you: let's not forget, he's a vigilante but first he's a detective. Bruce will make sure that he understands you before doing something.

You may know just one side of him, but do you really? Because when you care about Bruce's sleep, you are caring for Batman's rest. When you care about Batman agressive choices, you're caring about Bruce's heart. When you try to understand one side of him, you are also trying to understand the other.

Either way, that will make Bruce care about you. And isn't his whole identity about caring for others? Isn't it what makes him get out of bed every single day? Bruce cares. He deeply, really cares. And if you're on the list of people he loves, then you will be safe. Not matter what it takes.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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hollandorks · 2 years

Text

middle of the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

epilogue

summary: y/n’s life changes immensely, starting with the Batman falling out of the sky right in front of her and ending with a promising new job at Wayne Manor. As her life intertwines with that of both Batman and Bruce Wayne, she begins to figure out that there’s more to both than meets the eye. No spoilers for the Batman movie.

a/n: I apologize for how short this is but--it wasn’t ever really intended to be an actual chapter. It’s merely meant to bridge the gap at the end of the series into the sequel.

But...this is it. This is the end. I may still have lots more to explore in this world with these particular characters, but this is the end of this particular journey. Thank you so so much to everyone who has been on this wild ride with me--whether you were here from chapter one or before, or if you’ve only recently discovered this fic.

It has been such an unending joy writing this story and sharing it with everyone.

I’m so glad you have enjoyed this story with me and loved it as much as I have loved. I have so many other words to say but I’m feeling very emotional already and need to cool it down. Let’s just leave it at thank you, and I love you all.

This chapter is NSFW. 18+.

Song to play as the credits roll: Opalite by Martin Luke Brown

(yes I know this gif is Selina and Bruce but shhhh pretend she’s the reader)

Series Masterlist

word count: 3375

They stayed wrapped together until the middle of the night. It was the best date she’d ever had.

The newspaper headline glared up at y/n as she tugged the piece of cloth over her face. It was the first time in a few weeks that something other than the huge drug bust and takedown of mafia crime boss, Salvatore Maroni, had graced the newspapers.

BRUCE WAYNE TO WED

She smiled at the words as she tucked the ring safely between her breasts from where it rested on a long chain.

It had been his mother’s. The second piece of jewelry he had given her. The pearls had been carefully cleaned of her blood and returned to her at the hospital after the gala.

The ring had been a surprise. It was a simple band with a big diamond. Simple, understated. Just like Bruce. Perfect, like Bruce.

Her heart squeezed happily as she remembered the moment he had presented it to her.

He had woken from a nightmare. Kissed her senseless. Told her he loved her with his words and with his touch. Let his tears coat her skin as they moved together in the dark. It happened like that, sometimes, one of them waking in fear and needing touch in order to be reassured.

She had made breakfast while he showered. Brought it into the bedroom–their bedroom now, no use in pretending they weren’t sleeping together. He had been in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, water dripping from his hair, when he went to the dresser and turned around and got on one knee.

“I wanted to do this–better,” he had said. Stuttered adorably as he continued, “I–I’m no good with saying how I feel. So all I’m going to say is that I love you and want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?”

She had said the words “Are you serious?” about six times before he gently reminded her that he’d asked a question.

The answer had been yes.

That had been a couple of months ago. She wasn’t really sure how the news had gotten wind of their engagement, but she didn’t really care. She strongly suspected that Alfred had told them. He’d beamed like a proud father and immediately gone for their most expensive bottle of champagne. Had cried when she’d asked if he’d walk her down the aisle and again when Bruce asked him to be the best man.

Now, the ring was nestled safely near her heart while she got into the Batmobile and put the key in the ignition.

Y/n sighed happily as it roared to life.

“Please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is,” Bruce said in her ear. He’d promised to keep her in the loop when he went out as Batman. Just in case.

And she sometimes came to help him. Like she was currently doing as she sped down the tunnel and out into the streets of Gotham. They had an agreement now–he trained her whenever he had time, brought her in when he needed help on cases, and had even gotten her a bulletproof vest to wear. He’d made her promise to stay disguised at all times, and even was in the process of making her a cowl of her own. That was bulletproof, too, like his, but had no bat ears. She’d also had a condition of her own–no capes.

“Well, you’re getting your ass kicked. I’m not going to let you die before I get your last name.” As soon as she’d gotten home, she’d checked the screens and seen how surrounded he was. He was holding his own, but a little help wouldn’t hurt.

He huffed out a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

But he didn’t get angry, not like he used to. They’d worked together for months. She’d gotten much better at fighting. Had learned which of his weapons she liked best. Had learned she had a deep, deep love of the Batmobile while he seemed to prefer the ease of the motorcycle. Her disguise had started simple, just a hood pinned to her hair and a cloth covering the lower half of her face. Sometimes, when she wanted to be funny, she stole Bruce’s eye makeup and wore that, too. It always earned her a smile or a rolling of his eyes.

The arrest of the mayor and the fifteen other men had created a power vacuum. All sorts of terrible criminals started appearing and making grabs for power and territory. Drops were worse than ever, despite that big drug bust. It had been a taxing six months for Gotham and for Batman, too.

Plus, the trial was set to start by the end of the year. She would be Mrs. Wayne by then. It loomed over her like a dark cloud most days.

Minutes later, she clipped the first guy with the Batmobile as she came tearing around the corner. They were close to the Iceberg Lounge. She hadn’t ever been back, though she did see Lena and her son as frequently as she was able. She hired some of the girls part-time when she was able at her pride and joy, a restaurant she had teasingly named the Gotham Project after Bruce’s journals. It was an amalgamation of the things she loved: cooking, and helping Gotham. She also hired newly released (and carefully vetted by Wayne Enterprises finest private investigators) convicts as waiters, chefs, and hosts. People paid to come eat, or they paid it forward for someone less fortunate to enjoy a good meal. She provided supplies for the needy, too, helped by generous donations, including a very generous one from her fiance.

Y/n leapt out of the Batmobile and hit one man in the thigh with a bolt from the crossbow. Hit the next in the face with a gloved fist. They were all wearing clown masks.

“What the fuck?” she muttered as she took in the sight.

“Took you long enough,” Bruce said as he appeared next to her. He blocked a blow from hitting her in the face. She shot another bolt from the crossbow over his shoulder. She still wasn’t great with the weapon, but damn did she like how cool it made her feel. And Bruce had remained insistent: if she was going to help him, she couldn’t use a gun anymore. She had learned to pick her battles with him.

“Sorry, someone forgot to tell me they were going to get beat up by a gang of clowns tonight.”

One of said clowns landed a punch to her kidney. Her breath left her in a huff.

Bruce had already knocked him unconscious by the time she straightened.

“Look out!” she said as another clown came at him with a knife. Her memory flashed to another night, another knife, blood on her hands and in the seat of the Batmobile. With a shout, she smashed the butt of the crossbow into the mask.

The man…laughed.

Bruce leaned over him. Grabbed him by the shirt and held him up. Ripped off the mask. Underneath, he was a normal guy. Forgettable, even.

He smiled at them. “Boss said to tell you hi,” the guy said.

He had something in his other hand. He lifted it.

Y/n didn’t let him get any farther than that. She hit him in the face again and he went limp.

A playing card fluttered to the ground.

Bruce carefully picked it up. Flipped it over.

“A joker,” he said, showing it to her.

She shrugged. Pointed to the men scattered around them. “Gang of clowns, joker card….really went all out on the branding. Sounds like someone else I know.” Bruce stared at her in a way that suggested he was raising an eyebrow beneath the bat cowl. She started ticking things off on her fingers, “Batman, Batmobile, bat cave, bat knife. Bat blade? Batarang.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.” Home was the unspoken word. They were always careful what they said around each other, just in case. They didn’t want either of them to be tied to Bruce Wayne, to Wayne Manor. To each other. To Alfred.

They took different routes home, too, always careful.

Bruce had beaten her back. Was already scribbling fiercely in a journal, the joker card tucked between the pages.

She yanked her hood and vest off and tossed the Batmobile keys on the table next to him. Started taking off the armor around him while he wrote. He lifted one arm, then the other, letting her work around him without interruption.

She had read most of the journals. It had taken him a while to let her. Well, she’d actually started reading them one night while he was out. They’d fought about it when he’d caught her, and she’d come to understand how…important it was for his process. He needed to shed the skin of Batman each time he came back, and writing out his thoughts helped. It was how he figured stuff out.

If he didn’t want her to read something, or wanted her to wait while he processed it for a bit longer, he told her. She respected it. Understood that some things were harder for him than others. Never pushed, never snooped.

He had never written about the gala, despite her urging him to.

Some nights were harder than others. Sometimes he would wake her in the night with his shouts. Sometimes her nightmares woke him instead. Sometimes touching wasn’t enough. Sometimes when she woke, he was gone from the bed. She always found him downstairs working those nights. Sometimes he found her in the kitchen inventing new recipes to try at the GP.

When she finally had him out of his armor, she lightly kissed the space between his shoulder blades. There was a bruise on one side. She kissed beside it. She could tell by how his stance relaxed that he was getting to the end of his writing.

“You’re distracting me,” Bruce murmured. She could hear the smile in his voice. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Sorry,” she said as she held him close. Stayed still while he finished writing.

“Why clowns?” she asked after he had shut the journal. He tried to turn around but she wouldn’t release him from her arms. He twisted so she was still holding him but he was facing her.

“I…think it might have to do with that asshole I locked up. The one with the scars.”

She frowned, remembering a journal entry from before they’d met. “That’s…not good. He’s in Arkham right?”

Bruce hummed. She could almost hear the gears turning in his brain as he teased it all out.

She kissed his chest. Raised up on her toes to reach the base of his neck. Slid her hands up his ribcage.

He groaned. “You’re really distracting me,” he said again, blue eyes blazing with desire already. He was growing hard against her.

“That’s the point,” she said, and kissed his lips. “Work is over for tonight.” She kissed him again. Traced his lower lip with her tongue.

His hands grabbed at her ass and lifted her so he was carrying her. She wrapped both legs around his waist. She clenched her thighs and was rewarded with a moan against her lips. His fingers tightened. He walked her to the elevator. Held her against him with one hand and fumbled for the button to take them upstairs with the other.

She would never grow tired of this. Of him. Of how strong and capable he was as he held her.

He pressed her against the wall of the elevator and kissed her hungrily. Lightly massaged one of her breasts over her shirt until she gasped.

The elevator doors slid open. He carried her up the stairs easily. He wasn’t even breathing hard. At least, not from carrying her. She wrapped her legs more tightly around him and wiggled her hips. That earned her a gasp of breath.

In a flash, he had her pressed against the wall of the hallway right outside their bedroom.

He lightly bit the soft flesh of her neck and then kissed the hurt away. Her head thunked back against the wall as his lips moved against her clavicle and then back up her neck. He kissed the base of her ear. She shivered.

“Bed,” she gasped. Tightened her legs again unconsciously. “Now.”

“So bossy,” he said against her lips, but did as she told him. He set her down. She tried to pull him close for a kiss, but he turned her around. Pushed her so she was bending over the bed.

Her stomach flipped in anticipation.

He tugged at her pants with one hand and his own with the other. She loved when he was like this–bossy and insatiable and purposeful in his movements. She loved when Batman came out to play, as she’d once teasingly put it.

Bruce moaned her name as he entered her. He felt every curve of her with his calloused hands. Kissed her shoulder blade in the same spot she had kissed him only minutes before. Her hands fisted in the blankets as he moved. She said his name once, twice. Bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. One of his hands flatted against her sternum and pulled her up against him. He traced the chain of the necklace her ring was on. He kissed the top of her shoulder. Her back arched. His free hand slid down her abdomen and teased her clit.

God, she would never get enough of him.

“I love you,” he said in her ear, and it was enough to make her come.

He came a moment later with her name on his lips.

“Oh,” she said as she twisted to lay on her back on the bed. Her breath heaved out of her.

Bruce stared down at her for a long moment. His eyes sought out the ring where it rested against one bare breast. He leaned down abruptly and kissed her again.

“I love you,” they said at the exact same time when he pulled away. They shared a smile.

She stood and led him by the hand to the shower. Gently removed the makeup from his eyes while the water heated.

As they both hurriedly washed, Bruce said, “I think we need to let Gordon in on this.”

She sighed. “I told you work was done for the night.”

He shot her a look. “I have a bad feeling,” was all he said. But he was right. First the ex-mayor and all of that shit they’d been through, now Maroni and the Drops business, now the man already behind bars in Arkham. Something bad was brewing in Gotham.

She nodded. “Okay. Let’s see if he’s awake.”

It was long past the middle of the night. They had spent the darkest hours of the night together, like they did most nights.

Gordon was awake. He agreed to meet them at the signal tower.

“I’m driving,” y/n said as she practically skipped to the elevator. Her entire body was pleasantly warm. Bruce tried to steal the keys from her and sighed when she darted away. She was in the driver’s seat of the Batmobile before he could get in another protest.

It had been a while since she’d seen Gordon. They had talked on the phone a few times to prepare for the upcoming trial. Mostly the Wayne lawyer talked to her and then to him, separately. And even with the crime rates trying to rise in the wake of the arrests made after the gala, they hadn’t had much reason to bring Gordon in on anything.

Until now.

“Are you two partners now?” Gordon asked with raised eyebrows when they emerged from the elevator together.

“Something like that,” y/n said. She had to be very, very careful not to touch Bruce or look at him too lovingly while near Gordon. He was a detective, after all, and he knew that she was in love with Bruce Wayne. If they weren’t careful, it wouldn’t be hard for him to fit the pieces together that she was in love with Batman, too.

She hoped her face didn’t show what they’d just done in their bedroom.

“Congratulations on the engagement, by the way,” Gordon said with a flash of a smile. He glanced at Bruce. “Looks like you were too slow, buddy.”

Y/n couldn’t help it. She snorted.

“We’re just friends, detective,” Bruce said. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Lieutenant,” y/n corrected him. “Gordon got a big, fat promotion for all of the work he did to root out the corruption in Gotham.”

Gordon looked…embarrassed. “Yeah, well, I still have lots of work to do, alright? What did you need me for?”

“Came across a bunch of guys in clown masks,” Bruce said. He tugged something from his belt and passed it to Gordon. “Gave us a joker card.” Gordon’s eyes flashed. He had seen firsthand what the psycho in Arkham was capable of. It was one of the first big cases he and Bruce had worked together, apparently. “This, on top of Maroni and the rest of it…Something’s happening. Thought you should know to keep an eye out.”

“Thanks,” Gordon said. “I’ll look into it and let you know what I find.”

“Keep your eye out for a wedding invitation,” y/n said with a smile as Gordon got on the elevator. He gave her a startled look before the elevator doors closed and he disappeared from view.

Bruce tugged her closer. “Gordon’s invited to our wedding, huh?”

She smiled. She finally gave in and kissed him, now that Gordon was gone. “Of course he is. It’s a very exclusive event, so only our closest friends get to come. Speaking of, how many strippers can I invite?”

Bruce laughed. She held the sound close to her heart. Bathed in his joy. She had never loved anything as fiercely as she had loved him. As she loved all of him.

“I thought it was just Lena?” he asked skeptically.

“Well, a few others from the Iceberg Lounge wanted to come too, I guess. Not because you’re famous, I might add. Mostly because they’re my friends.”

Bruce sighed. Kissed her temple. “Invite as many strippers as you want.” Most of them were strippers, dancing in the Iceberg Lounge for the guests, still. But things had gotten better, they’d told her. The owner of the club, a man named Carmine Falcone with mob ties, had become much more involved since she’d left. The beatings had stopped, debts had been lowered, and things had generally improved. Lena had been quick to tell her that while the working conditions were better, the patrons were just as bad as always. They’d agreed that they couldn’t win everything.

Y/n smiled and hummed thoughtfully. After a moment, a thought struck her. “I wish my mom could come,” she said around a sudden lump in her throat.

“Me too,” he murmured. “And my parents. My parents would love you.”

“My mom would have figured out faster than me that you were Batman,” y/n said. Bruce laughed again. She let him pull her close against his side. “Have you seen the paper, by the way?”

Bruce stilled. “No, why?”

“Bruce Wayne’s engagement is public now,” she said. “That’s how Gordon knew, I expect.”

Bruce was quiet for a long moment. “I just assumed you’d told him,” he finally said. “How’d the press get wind of it?” There was a certain tightness to his voice that she didn’t miss.

She knew he hated putting her in the spotlight–hated either of them being in the spotlight–but she couldn’t help the little thrill she got thinking of the announcement being splashed across Gotham. He was hers, and now everyone knew it.

“Oh, I have a feeling it was a certain meddlesome old man who told them.”

They both laughed. Bruce tucked her closer and brushed his lips across her forehead. “I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Wayne,” he murmured. Her heart leapt. She couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Wayne, either.

Hand in hand, they watched the sun rise slowly over Gotham.

The night was over.

A new day had begun.

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imagine--if · 2 years

Note

Headcanon request for Bruce when you’re sick?

A/N: Okay but protective batboy x10000 here 🖤🦇

Pairing: Battinson x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Overprotective loving Bruce Wayne 😍

•♡ It really doesn’t matter how I’ll you are or how bad you’re feeling; just a cold or a headache, a massive fever, threw up a few times?? One sneeze and there’s literally an ambulance on standby parked outside Wayne Manor. No joke.

•♡ Bruce is just terrified of the idea of one of the only people left in Gotham that he loves getting hurt or sick in any way. Obviously, everyone gets sick now and then, but when it’s you??? His mind’s going don’t panic don’t panic don’t-

•♡ It’s not like he’s unprepared though!! Bruce being The Batman means he has plenty of first aid equipment and a patient Alfred to help stitch him up and get medicines, and he’s more than happy to help you too. Bruce kind of prefers doing it himself and being around you 24/7 to make sure you’re doing okay and are in as little pain as possible.

•♡ Bruce Wayne is an incredibly doting and gentle partner with you in general, so he’ll be just as tender when he’s making sure you’re resting and have, like, the whole week off work with one word from him to your boss. It’s not like you’re gonna struggle finically-

•♡ He’s 100% the type who’s willing to run down to the nearest shop for a specific food or drink that you want but he doesn’t have. Hardly anyone will notice him being Bruce Wayne because of his black hoodie pulled right up over his face and keeping himself to himself and all.

•♡ His voice is so smooth and soft if you want him to read to you or something, or Bruce will lay down with you in a comfortable silence and only break it every few minutes to ask if you’re okay and stuff.

•♡ Not totally related, but he also asks what you’re thinking a lot. Like, what’s on your mind, why are you looking at something like that?? Not at all in a demanding or confused way but more in pure wonder of who you are and wanting to understand you as much as he can because he’s lovestruck 🥺

•♡ Basically, being ill has its many advantages with Bruce because he drops everything to be around you and watches any friend who tries to visit or something so closely, standing near where you are protectively like they’re gonna throw a grenade at you or something 😂

•♡ But in his mind, can you blame him?! He has to be protective!! The love of his life is at their most vulnerable point right now and it’s his job to make up for it 😤

•♡ If being too close and affectionate makes him sick afterwards (it usually does, Bruce likes cuddles 🙃) then you’ll be able to take care of him and Alfred helps out with the typical cycle, it’s very domestic and cute 💕

•♡ Bruce Wayne 10/10 makes being sick worth it.

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rebelliousstories · 5 months

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Poinsettia

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Selina Kyle x Reader

Fandom: The Batman (2022)

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Mentions of Death and Angst

Word Count: 1,627

Masterlist: Here

Summary: A little Christmas cheer in their dreadful New York apartment.

“Selina! Sel? Where you at girl?” A voice called out as the door to the shabby New York apartment opened and shut behind the figure. She carried something in her gloved hands, but hid it behind her back when the young woman she shared her home with came through. Her cropped hair was wet, indicating it had been freshly washed. Along with that, the smell of soap crept through the apartment from the shower that had happened before she arrived home.

“Hey baby. I’m here. Sorry, I needed a shower. I felt gross after the club.” Selina came over and pressed a small kiss to her lover’s lips. Her hands wrapped around her waist and felt something behind her back.

“What’s behind your back?” She asked directly. Her girlfriend looked away impishly but refused to offer a response.

“It’s nothing.” She drawled out. Selina leveled a look at her partner and soon retracted her hands to look her more directly in the face.

“Babe?” Selina asked yet again, staring her dead in the eye.

“It’s your Christmas present, okay? Just, let’s go to bed and promise me you won’t look under the tree?” She pleaded and stepped closer to her girlfriend yet again. Selina did not move away, but did cross her arms as her lover tried to be sweet on her. It took several minutes of big eyes, and a smile before Selina relented.

“Fine. I won’t look. But you better hurry up.” She pressed a loving kiss to her girlfriend’s lips, and walked away. The woman, still standing with her hands behind her back, watched her girlfriend’s hips sway as she walked away. She brought her hands back around the front of her body as she walked over to their tree. There were only a few gifts underneath the tree, but that was okay. They did not need much, just each other. She set the big box down behind the other gifts almost out of view, before she stood back up. Her outer layer was shed before she left the living room; her scarf, gloves, and coat were placed on the couch before making her way to the bedroom.

When she got in there, Selina was already reclining on the bed beneath the covers. She held something in her hands, something that her partner recognized immediately. The only remaining picture of her and her mother that Selina held in her possession. Often times, their nights would end with her pulling the picture out of Selina’s hands after she had fallen asleep to keep it from getting lost or damaged. It comforted the woman to hold it; the last remaining thread of innocence she had left. No words were spoken as the other woman got ready for bed. Cleaning her face, brushing her teeth, covering her hair, all of it was done with speed and accuracy you only get from doing the same routine for years and years. Eventually, she climbed into bed with her lover and pulled her into her chest. Selina’s hands still held the photo as she laid her head down on her girlfriend’s chest.

“Your mom would be proud of the woman you have become.” She whispered and pressed a kiss to her head. Selina continued to stroke over her mother’s face in the photo, but her eyes were drawn to something in the corner. A brilliant splotch of red and green were in the corner.

“Did I ever tell you about this photo?” Selina asked, sounding very far away in her own head. She had, in fact, told her lover the story behind this particular photo. But that was not going to stop her from encouraging Selina to tell it again.

“Tell me.” She whispered, pressing another kiss to the head on her chest.

“When I was a kid, my mom couldn’t afford to do a big Christmas. But she would take me to the heart of the city to look at the lights. The one thing we got every year, from the same vendor, was a poinsettia plant. They would sell it to us for a fraction of what they were originally selling it for because they knew my mom. After she died, I never went back. I couldn’t without her.” Her voice trailed off, still lost in her own world as she remembered the snow filled nights where she went into the city to get those plants. Selina felt another kiss placed to her hair, and her lover’s hands rubbing up and down on her arms to soothe her.

Her lover stared at little Selina in the photo and smiled to herself. But her lover’s breathing slowed and eventually Selina was fast asleep. Her body went limp, and the photo dropped on her girlfriend’s stomach. She picked it up and stared for a moment longer, before placing it on her nightstand to protect the picture, turned out the lights, and went to sleep.

Snow filled the air when the couple awoke Christmas Day. They stretched and laid in the warm bed as they tried to wake up. However, with the day off, neither one cared too much about getting started on their day at a reasonable time.

“Merry Christmas, Sel.” She whispered to the woman that was now face to face with her on their sides in bed.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” She replied, laying a kiss upon her lover’s lips. Selina laid there for a moment more before she pulled away, and got out of the bed to head into the bathroom. She began to brush her teeth when her girlfriend came and hugged her from behind.

“My morning breath really that bad, huh?” She joked as she began to brush her own teeth. Selina chuckled lightly, trying desperately not to choke on the toothpaste in her mouth at her lover’s comment.

Once they were both done, a quick breakfast was had of a couple sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but it was enough for the couple on their budget. They made their way to the couch, where she had to move her outerwear from the previous night, and laid down on the couch. The radio in the corner of the room was on a station that played Christmas songs non-stop, which provided some noise for the couple to have in the background. They watched out the window for a while, just enjoying their time together. But eventually, Selina got curious about the large box that was tucked near the wall behind the tree with the rest of the presents.

“Can we open them now?” She asked her girlfriend, turning in her arms to look her in the eyes. When she nodded, Selina excitedly got up and immediately went to the large box behind the tree.

“Wait!” Selina stopped at her lover’s exclamation. She looked like a little kid with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Just, save that one till the end? Please. Trust me.” She explained, and while Selina was upset to not find out what her lover brought home last night, she relented. They spent a considerable time opening the gifts from one another. Their gifts were usually practical, but there were a couple that were pure wants rather than needs. A new wig, a refill on Selina’s favorite perfume, and a beautiful leather skirt graced Selina’s hands but she was itching to go look at the present behind the tree. Seeing her lover’s eyes drift over, she gave Selina a nod to go to the mystery present.

She got excited and ran over to grab the present. Placing it in front of her on the floor, Selina tore into it like a little kid. This was much bigger than their usual presents to each other, which got her curious. She tore off the wrapping paper and used a nearby knife to open the tape that closed the box before her. When she opened the flaps, however, she stopped. The smile fell off of her face, and her hands froze. Her lover sat on the couch, watching her from a distance with a tense stance. She was no sure how she would react, but this was making her nervous. Selina reached her shaky hands into the box and pulled out what was inside. A poinsettia plant with a very specific tag attached to it. The tag of the business she used to get it from as a child. She was at a loss for words as she looked towards her girlfriend on the couch with watery eyes. Without saying anything, her lover took over.

“I thought it might make you happy. It wasn’t difficult to find the business. And when I mentioned the Kyle girl was who I was getting it for, they were really excited to hand it off. Said they wanted me to bring you by at some point.” She explained gently. Selina wept as her hands traced the petals delicately, but she still said nothing. In a flash, the plant was set gently on the ground, and she had found a place in her girlfriend’s lap. She kept pressing kiss after kiss to her, cradling her face in her hands. Finally, coming up for air, Selina spoke for the first time since she opened the box.

“Thank you.” She whispered. Repeating her thanks, she kissed every inch of exposed skin in between her words. Her lover rested her hands on Selina’s waist and allowed her to do what she needed without impediment.

“You’re welcome.” Her girlfriend finally replied.

And there they sat. Selina perched in her girlfriend’s lap, pressing kisses and sweet words of endearment and thanks to her. And her girlfriend, happy to be able to bring just a little bit of happiness and light to their gloomy apartment in an equally gloomy city.

#rebelliousstories #writing #25 days of ficmas #25 days of christmas #ficmas 2023 #christmas imagine #the batman imagine #the batman #selina kyle x reader #selina kyle imagine #selina kyle #catwoman imagine #catwoman

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angelltheninth · 2 years

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Bruce Wayne Being A Sloppy Eater

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, eager Bruce Wayne, messy Bruce Wayne, pussydrunk Bruce Wayne

A/N: I love imagining Bruce as the most enthusiastic pussy eater ever. And this was even before that whole "superheroes don't do that" crap that DC pulled lmao.

Bruce is always an eager lover, always wanting to please you and hear you moan and sigh, feel your pussy clenching around him, be it his fingers, tongue or cock

When that man gets his mouth on your count there's no stopping him from making you sensitive and needy as well, from him making you squirt

He can spend hours with his head between your legs

Will suck on your clit while thrusting his finger in and out, feeling you drive your hips into his face, feeling your hands in his hair, tugging him closer and closer

If you want to flip him over and ride his face he has no problem letting you do just that

Always makes sure to look you in the eyes when you're about to come

Lets you make a complete mess of his chin from your slick and will lick it all up all too eagerly before diving his head back down for more

Makes you come until you're so sensitive that your hips jerk up at the faintest touch of his tongue on your clit

Spreads your slick across your inner thighs while he kisses and bites at them, allowing you a little room to calm yourself down

Keeps your pussy lips spread when he goes to lick or flick your clit, he likes the way your hips twitch so desperately from his touches

When it comes to your legs he likes them clenched tight around his head or with you knees over his shoulders while you try to pull him even closer, the only time when he's gonna have them pinned to the bed is when he's hammering his hard cock into your already oversensitive cunt

His own cumshots are also messy, especially when he comes inside of you

When that happens both of you clean each other up thoroughly, most of the time it will be at the same time but other times you'll let Bruce go first and then you'll lick and suck the combined cum clean of his softening cock

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starfirette · 1 year

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LOVED living a lie! I need to see a part two where reader finally has the family she’s always wanted with someone else and Bruce is forced to watch through pictures she sends Alfred who shows Bruce. Kind of based on that Taylor swift song Last Kiss. I want the angst to leave me heartbroken. If you can’t and you have something else in mind that is totally fine 😊

He was a lonely, little boy, waiting for his schoolyard playmate to return

♥️I don't even know what to say other than this is at least five months overdue 😶 welcome to the renaissance...?

♥️part two of Living A Lie | masterlist | requests CLOSED | I will never apologize for Tom Welling! Clark Kent being the only valid Clark Kent 🥹 but I guess technically it can be whatever Clark Kent you want; this post was queued at 1:30 because Star is a dumbass and doesn't ever sleep even when she had class!!!!! EDIT: I just reread the first part. Bruce and Y/n were engaged 😶not married. So I'm going to make a quick edit to the first chapter and if you remember that mistake, no you don't

Mr Pennyworth was a former MI agent, and this fact might have attested for him being a remarkable liar.

Even to Master Bruce.

It was easy to say that he wasn't sure what Mistress Y/n was up to when Bruce mustered up the courage to ask, his shoulders rounded at the edges like the worn cover of a hardback book. But hardback books were typically worn because they were loved; Bruce was worn because he had no love.

The divorce had been finalized for at least an entire year, now. The state of Illinois requires that a couple has irreconcilable differences before divorcing, and any couple who has been separated for at least six months already is assumed to be in the daunting face of irreconcilable differences. The easy part about this was that Mistress Y/n could say that she wanted children and Master Bruce didn't: that was a difference that was irreconcilable by nature. Pepper in the fact that she had caught him in a compromising position and she had been granted her divorce exactly nine months and seven days after she'd left the gala in tears with the vague feeling her whole world on the verge of collapse.

Mr Pennyworth was a liar because he knew what Mistress Y/n was up to-and he didn't call her Mistress anymore. He called her Y/n, or Miss, because some things never change.

While Bruce had always been like the dark side of the moon, Y/n had been transformed into the sun. She'd gained weight: her face was plump and her tummy had rounded out.

Her eyes were alight with a new regard for life.

And her hand was typically intertwined with a man's. One man.

He was taller than Bruce; perhaps his shoulders were somewhat wider, and his eyes a starkly deeper blue. His hair was curly and dark, and he regarded you with a love so strong it made even Alfred’s heart sing.

So, Mr Pennyworth was a liar because he knew exactly what “Mistress Y/n” was up to. She was celebrating with her friends the unexpected pregnancy she'd tested positive for after two years, eight months, and twelve days.

There was nothing bittersweet about it. Alfred loved Bruce deeply, like his own child, but he could see where Bruce had greatly fumbled the ball.

No, there was nothing bittersweet about this pregnancy.

Alfred had been aware of everything Y/n was up to because she stayed in contact with him. Sometimes the two met for lunch in Star City. He was family to her and she didn't have much of that, so how could he break such ties for Master Bruce’s sake? He couldn't. That's how.

Even though he loved Bruce so dearly-like his own flesh and blood!-he wouldn't resign himself to forfeiting a relationship with a dear friend.

If he loved Bruce like a son, then Y/n was certainly his daughter.

He knew that Y/n was shocked at the sudden pregnancy. He knew that she had been frightened at first-too frightened to tell her boyfriend. She had gone to Alfred first, afterall. She was on the cusp of tears; she tried so hard to stay composed on the line.

Like a father would, Alfred had calmed Y/n down; soothed her, gave her encouragement, and convinced her to tell her boyfriend.

The man in question was over the moon with happiness. Not that Alfred had any doubts in the matter. He had suspected the man in question would be rather happy.

It was just a few days later that Y/n informed Alfred she was now engaged, just for tradition’s sake.

There was a lovely little engagement party, and then a small, Metropolis courthouse wedding ceremony where Alfred had been Y/n’s witness. She wore a lovely, knee length white dress with a net wedding veil. She wore baby blue, wrist length velvet gloves, which had actually belonged to Alfred’s late wife. That was her something borrowed and something blue.

The groom bore a stunning black suit, with his curly hair swept back and a pair of thick, black glasses sitting on his nose.

Y/n had briefly been an L/n once more, but she looked her happiest when she was officially declared a Kent. It didn't seem to matter that the wedding was rushed. Alfred had a suspicion that this engagement had been a one sided plan for a few months, now; judging from the way Clark had heartily shaken hands with Alfred while sweating up and down to keep her happy , Alfred could just tell that he'd been planning this for a little while longer than he was letting on. From the calculated respect you both regarded the other with, to the mutual love and adoration, it was easy to see that you had found your true love.

Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, the wedding party loitered on the courthouse steps with the groom conversing happily with his witness while Y/n and her own did the same.

“Won't you stay a little while?” Y/n asked Alfred. She had plucked the hair pins out of her head, removing the net veil and moving her hair back into standard position. “I miss you.”

Alfred kissed the top of Y/n’s head.

She didn't know that he missed her, too; very greatly. Alfred would never tell her that her presence in the manor had always been reassuring. She had been, for lack of a better term, his security blanket. She had kept Bruce happy and well grounded. Alfred had unfortunately become dependent on her for that sense of ease.

Guilt often chewed him away for this.

Bruce’s well-being was pinned on her for a long time, and now that she was gone? Alfred worried for his master.

However, that isn't the only reason he misses seeing you prance happily around like a child in big girl clothes.

Truth be told, Alfred tended to see children when he looked at both you and Bruce. A little girl with her boy, dragging him around and playing happily while he pretended he didn't like it--but he actually did.

Where had the time gone?

Looking at you now, in your vintage wedding gown on the steps of the courthouse, he sees a child still. So wide eyed and happy spirited. You'd always be this way. Always.

“I miss you, too,” Alfred told her. “I'm never far away. Is a forty five minute drive too much for you to bear?”

Y/n rolled her eyes with faux contempt. “I suppose not. But it's forty five minutes both ways! Oh.” She started to pull the gloves off by the fingers when she remembered them.

Alfred stopped her. “Keep them,” he implored her. “I want one of my children to have family heirlooms.”

Struck by sudden emotion, Y/n’s smile fell into a quivering pucker of lips as she hugged Alfred tight. “I love you.”

Alfred kissed her hair one more time. “I love you, too.”

Mr Pennyworth would lie that evening when he returned home. Given that he'd been asleep all day, Master Bruce was none the wiser of Alfred’s trip to the city.

Home was home, still.

The manor was the same as it had always been and likely always would be.

He trekked up the staircase to awaken his master-the one child he still had to worry about.

“Long day, Alfred?” Bruce asked in a thick, tired voice as he slowly peeled out of his bed. His torso was beaten; ghastly swollen and painted with thick, scabbed over gashes.

Mr Pennyworth helped Bruce into a button down shirt.

“Not at all, sir,” Mr Pennyworth said. “Mistress Al Ghul has left a message for you, sir, something regarding the usual issue. Shall I call her?”

Bruce waved a hand. “No,” he groaned. “I’ll…do something. Any other messages?”

“None, sir.”

“None?”

“You heard me correctly, sir. Shall I prepare a meal?”

“Breakfast sounds lovely.”

“Does dinner for a human qualify as breakfast for a bat, sir?” Mr Pennyworth quipped.

“I should think so,” Bruce muttered.

“Very well,” Mr Pennyworth confirmed with a nod. He made a turn out of the room before glancing back to Bruce to ask one more question.

A little boy with weary eyes and an oversized shirt hunched his shoulders. "When will Y/n come back to play?” the boy asked in a soft voice.

Mr Pennyworth’s earlier question was long forgotten as his mouth went dry. “...Pardon me, sir?” Mr Pennyworth said as he feigned absence of a belly ache.

It took only a blink for Alfred to see Bruce's tre self: grown and hunched at the shoulders, buttoning up his shirt as he tried to appear neutral. “Have you heard from Y/n recently?” Bruce repeated.

Mr Pennyworth weighed his options in half a second. Y/bwouldn't be angry for Bruce to know the truth-it wasn't Y/n's sake he was keeping things a secret for, however. Unlike Bruce, Y/n was understanding. She would have been just fine to know what Bruce had been up to. But Bruce was rash. He was quick to judge, whether in others or on himself. It's that reason that Mr Pennyworth suavely replied, "I have not, sir. Did you require anything else?”

Defeat echoed in Bruce's eyes. “That's all,” he said.

He was a lonely, little boy, waiting for his schoolyard playmate to return and drag him around. But she never would.

That's one thing Alfred would never lie about.

#clark kent x reader #bruce wayne x reader #the batman x reader #the Batman imagine #Superman x reader #Smallville #?#how the fuck do I tag this?!#i wish queue well #bruce wayne imagine #dceu imagines #dceu x reader #dc x reader #dc imagines #requested!#starfirette renaissance #starfirette writes

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sweetums0kitty · 11 months

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Mask Maketh The Man

Another Sav fic so soon?! What is this productivity? Anyway! This is another request from my good pal Bunny! @lovesickrobotic I hope you enjoy Bun! <3 Btw my requests are openhttps://www.tumblr.com/sweetums0kitty/717181379533815808/requests-are-open Shoot me an ask!

Warnings: None just pure fluff

He was beautiful, regal, and powerful, so different in his fearsome regalia than when he's just your mild-mannered Edward. He had finally assembled the complete outfit after months of searching Edward was finally the Riddler. "Well… How do I look?" came his modulated voice sending a cold shiver down your spine. His already piercing gaze was heightened by the way the clear frames of his glasses were set over the bridge of the mask. He looked like death, he was an angel of vengeance… Edward was everything. "You're- oh my god, this is really happening!" laughing as you pushed your hair out of your face with a deep sigh. Eddie stepped forward and you instantly stepped back from his hulking form. Arms hanging lamely by his sides he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his neck but stopped when he was reminded of the plastic wrap at the back of his skull. "Do I scare you like this?" he insinuated taking a step back with a forlorn tilt of his masked head. quickly you stepped forward attempting to soothe Eddie. "No, no! I'm not… You don't scare me! I'm just worried… What if you get caught?" beginning to pace back and forth in front of where the Riddler stood. He snorted and you turned quickly to glour at the masked man before you. "It's a perfectly valid concern!" Sighing the hot breath fogged the lenses of his mask making Eddie look a bit less fearsome. "C'mere" gesturing for you to come into his long protective arms. Obediently you stepped forward and instantly the warm, comforting presence of Edward enveloped you. Resting your head on his chest you could breathe in the familiar scents of coffee and old paper that made Eddie your Eddie. He was so tenderly soft it was hard to imagine the hands that gently stroked your hair, shushing all the niggling doubts that plagued you could be used for such gruesome violence.

Gently he bent forward hooking leatherbound gloves under your knees and bringing you almost effortlessly (He was a bit out of breath, he did always say he wasn't physically gifted. But for you! An effort was made) to the couch before sitting down with you snugly perched in his warm lap. The old futon groaned under the combined weight but held fast. Sitting curled up in his arms you felt truly safe, like nothing in the hellish streets of Gotham could take you from Edward. Still like a child afraid of the monster under the bed, you needed reassurance. Turning to face Eddie you hesitated to touch his face. Emerald eyes held your gaze and you could just see the way his brows were furloughed with the crinkle of the skin around his eyes. "Angel?" one gloved hand reached up to touch your cheek and instantly it clicked. "Can I touch your mask?" the words flopped from your lips in one undignified lump. "Of course, you can.." a bit incredulous that you would even ask to touch him. Even so, your hands gingerly met the vinal of his mask in an exploratory touch. Ghosting fingers over the shapeless face covering you could feel where his gorgeous nose was encased, down further and there were his cherubic cheeks and down once more and you were brushing over his lips. "See I'm still me, just better." whispering as you worked the hooks of the facial covering off so you could properly hold the reddened cheeks of your beloved. Letting the mask flop between the two of you as you bent forward to press a kiss into the plush petals of his lips. Instantly you melded with Edward. Lips dancing together as you cradled each other's cheeks. Finally pulling away to rest your foreheads together. "You're already amazing Eddie." gently kissing his nose. Snuggled under his chin you felt like renewal could be found within your love.

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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"Despicable" - yan!Bruce Wayne x Reader

A/N: currently reviewing my book to send it out AGAIN because apparently, I can't let go

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Batman-inspired playlist

SUMMARY: While Seline is Bruce's eyes at 44 Below, he spots someone absolutely showstopping. Unfortunately, you're Joker's girl. Bruce is determined to save you from that despicable criminal.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.2k

[TW: yandere themes, explicit language]

Part of Bruce was glad he didn't step foot inside 44 Below. Judging from what Seline was showing him, it was nothing more but a relatively glorified dive bar. It seemed as if corruption could be the sweetest fruit if one simply made it look out of reach or in some way special. It was the pinnacle of human pride and greed to always desire the unattainable.

Despite the supposed prestige of the underground club, he could hardly notice anything out of the ordinary when compared to any other bar one could find in Gotham: young women in skimpy clothing and old, rich men who salivated over them. Drugs. Alcohol. Smuggling. Trafficking. The only visible difference was very superficial - their clothes and jewellery were significantly more expensive. Aside from that one easy-to-overlook detail, 44 Below was exquisite in its lack of exceptionalism.

The swarm of people seemed to be unending. Although the lower level was supposed to be more deluxe, more selective, there was about the same amount of people as on the upper level. Seline was walking through crowds of personalities too important or powerful to want their attention on her. Turning her head in all directions possible, she had nearly given herself whiplash when her stare merely glazed over a figure so brilliant they could hardly be perceived as real; an after-image of a fabulous fantasy:

"Wait, turn around. That woman in a green dress by the bar. Who is she?"

"Fuck no, Bruce," she hissed back at him as she continued marching on. "You know a guy who goes by 'Joker'? The psychopathic mass murderer? That's his girl."

"Look at her," he demanded again. "I need time to scan her face. What do you know about her?" It was a generous half-truth: while he did need time to perform scans, he didn't need yours specifically.

Seline let out a heavy sigh. Reluctantly, she directed her eyes towards you - leaning against a bar, drinking an Old Fashioned, and nibbling on honey-coated roasted cashews. Needless to say, you were completely oblivious to the attention you were getting at the moment. If you could have your way, you wouldn't have been there - 44 Below was an over-glorified workplace for you, waiting for someone who might need a little favour they're willing to repay for.

Bruce's thoughts were running rampant but they lacked coherence. There was a strange feeling in his chest - one he couldn't quite name but it was completely overwhelming and it forced his attention to focus on you. His eyes were eating up your image, his insatiable hunger only grew as he stared at you. The longer he admired your aloof demeanour, the more he was unable to find any flaw in your appearance. It seemed like something taken out of a cliche movie: a diamond found among the filth. How could you have ended up with some lunatic?

You were leaning against the bar counter, bored out of your mind as if you were waiting for someone to show up and get you away from that disgusting place you never quite fit into in the first place. He could be that someone... He wanted to be.

"Ever since Joker got locked up, she's taking care of the business. The whole operation went deep underground and now even the unimportant people wear designer clothes."

"How do you know all that?"

"Penguin's her fan." Seline seemed to not have noticed the lack of emotions in his tone. Bruce wasn't very interested in the criminal part of your life - it will all be left in the past soon enough. "Oh, shit, she noticed me."

Bruce's heart jumped in his chest as if there actually was something that could frighten that man or take him by surprise. Staring at the screen, he met your warm gaze. Words became stuck in his throat, completely awestruck, although you weren't even looking at him per se - you didn't even know about his presence. And he realized he knew no greater frustration.

"Hey, Seline, how are things going on?" you asked. The cheerfulness of your voice seemed genuine. "Haven't seen you working 'round here before."

Dear God, how he began yearning the moment he heard your voice. What darkness and bliss would it bring him to hear you speak his name?

"I'm doing some overtime."

To Bruce's utmost pleasure, you leaned towards Seline. Your face was the only thing on his screen and he truly wished it could stay like that.

"The offer still stands," you whispered. Your eyebrows raised slightly and your eyes had that soft gloss over them. "Give me a call and you'll make a better dollar in better circumstances."

"What offer?" Bruce inquired but Seline ignored him.

"Thank you but I'm still not interested. I'm good."

She promptly turned around and began walking away, her eyes shying away from the bullyboys you brought with you. Rumour had it they didn't need much to happily get involved.

"What offer, Seline?" Bruce repeated. He sounded impatient.

"None of your business," she spat out as she entered the bathroom.

His eyes became bloodshot and dry from staring at the computer for so long. He knew not how many hours had passed and, to be frank, did not care. Nirvana was playing in the background but he barely registered the sounds. None of his attention could be diverted from the picture of your face. Bruce knew perfectly well what he had to do, it was the question of how that kept him up until the early hours of the morning.

The obsessive thoughts inside Bruce's head were too loud to let him hear Alfred come in. "Who's that?"

"Someone important," he answered quietly. For a moment he felt angry that someone else was looking at you but he quickly dismissed that thought as he did with most of his emotions.

It was true but not in the way Alfred understood. Perhaps, Bruce himself did not yet understand the nature of your importance. It was as if he was frantically evacuating and kept asking other people what was going on; smoke was burning his eyes but he did not know the source of the fire.

Seeing as Wayne was even less talkative than normally, Alfred silently left him to continue doing whatever it was that he was doing. Sometimes he got tired of nagging at a grown man.

As it was mentioned before, Bruce knew what he had to do - it was a fact, not a thesis that had to be proved. He was going to save you from that animal you lied to yourself you loved. Bruce had a habit of subduing his feelings, therefore he told himself that it was simply his duty to return your independence to you, completely ignoring the overwhelming yearning that burned throughout his body. He made up his mind that he was going to save you from the filth you'd been stained with, no matter whether you wanted it too. Bruce had seen evil and he was convinced he knew what was best for you.

Oh but Cupid could be a truly despicable beast.

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peterparkersnose · 2 years

Text

Corrupt

riddler x reader

riddler x politician daughter!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: stalking, mentions and descriptions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, mentions of pregnancy and abortion, paying off people in a wrongful manner

a/n there will be a part two babes, this is just so long already as it is. I like to chunk it up. as a reader, I get turned off by stories that run long. I hope you enjoy my first riddler fic :)

(also, kat is not catwoman. I realized the reference after I wrote this, but I really liked the name so I kept it.)

summary Y/N L/N. Daughter of an infamous Gotham senator. Edward takes a particular interest in her. When fate brings them together, he can’t help himself anymore. She needs to be shielded from her father’s corruptness. And from Bruce Wayne.

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read time: 9 mins 44 seconds

Part 2

Y/N L/N. Gotham socialite, Graduate of GU, daughter of a senator, one of the most eligible women in the whole city. You have had links to many prominent people in this town, the most renowned one being Bruce Wayne. You currently were unemployed, but spent time at volunteer shelters. Things in your life seemed good. Your birthday was coming up. Your dad had just bought you a new car. You and your friends were planning a night out in Gotham for your twenty third birthday. But oh, little did you know.

***

Edward Nashton was quite a subtle man. Blending into the background, being ignored, and staying quiet was his specialty. He was scouring news channels for any motive to play out his desires. Kellan L/N had made a speech recently to announce the decrease of crime in his district. Edward laughed so hard he almost knocked the glass of water off of his table next to him. Just as he was about to flip the channel, he noticed you. Standing in the back. Your bright eyes were focused on the senator. Edwards heart sank when he saw this. Such a beautiful girl fooled by the politics of Gotham. He had to know who you were.

A quick internet reverse search brought up your digital profile. Ed was quick to dissect it. He wanted to throw up when he found out you were the daughter of Kellan L/N, third child of his. He didn’t know he had any other children than his sons. They were a bit older than you anyways. Edward had a small dislike for the L/N sons, your older brothers. He’s found douchey photos online of them partying on yachts with other women and expensive alcohol. How would their wives feel about that? All funded by their dad. He definitely also engaged in these activities. Pictures dating back thirty/forty years depicted your father cheating on your mother.

Slamming his computer shut, he pulled out his phone. His notepad sat next to him as he scrolled through your instagram.

24.9k followers. Impressive.

Edward scrolled through your photos. He figured out your best friend was named Hazel. She was the daughter of a senator from another city. Not his problem, other places corruption. You had been friends with Hazel since about ninth grade, when you started posting on Instagram.

You didn’t have many recent posts with your brothers. The age gap in the family must have simmered your relationships once you got older. You last posted a picture of you and one of your brothers in 2018 for a birthday post. He found old birthday posts of yours. The last one was around a year ago, you were due to turn twenty three about next week. He scoffed as he looked at the pictures from your birthday last year. Cabo trip, all funded by daddy. You were probably on a plane to go somewhere exotic for your next birthday already, he thought.

What angered him the most was the party photos. You seemed to be close with Bruce Wayne. One of the men he hated the most. Bruce had no online presence minus the photos you would occasionally post of him. How has he never seen this before?

Party in upstate with Bruce.

Bruce Wayne at a party?

Picnic with Bruce.

No way Bruce Wayne actually went on a picnic. Staged.

Bruce’s banister is so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself. I needed a pic or two.

She’s at his manor?

Jealously filled Edward. Of course Bruce Wayne got the most perfect girl. He had everything he didn’t.

He angrily flicked through the comments and was relieved when he saw the constant denial of a relationship between you two.

@hzljohnson so when is the wedding?

@y/nl/n in your dreams

Even her best friend wanted this to happen.

@gthmnews13 Is this an official relationship confirming post? The fans are going crazy!

@y/nl/n Me and Bruce are only friends.

An official news source? Can’t they leave her alone?

Edward threw his phone to the floor. He was sick at looking at your picture perfect life.

He knew something deeper was going on.

On some of the sub chains he had been on recently, there was unrest. Something was about to be exclusively leaked about politicians in Gotham. Sure, everyone says that all the time. But Edward had a feeling this was big. It was a file that supposedly held career/life damaging documents for people, going all the way up to potentially the mayor. Edward giddied to himself, laying back on his couch and looking at the newspaper clippings he had pasted on his ceilings. The feeling of excitement rose. This next few weeks were going to be great.

***

Your father knew. The pictures she threatened to leak would come out eventually. It was just a matter of when. He was smitten when he met her at the Iceberg Lounge. She was just a little older than his own daughter. He, and many other politicians, only knew her as Kat. He figured she just wanted a taste of the expensive life, and this was the only way she knew how. She certainly had the facilities to be in her position. Kat began almost exclusively spending her time with him. He payed the best. After a few months of this, she demanded a large sum of money. When he denied it, she dropped the bombshell. She was pregnant.

Your father was almost certain the child wasn’t his, and brushed her off. He offered to pay for her abortion, but this just made her angrier. It wasn’t until she came back with a subpoenaed paternity test is when he knew she told. Told who, he wasn’t sure. A lawyer, judge, who knows.

And it came back that he was in fact the father of her unborn child.

He shut out Kat, getting her banished from the Lounge. Denying her any more money, she promised to leak the photos of them together. Pictures at the lounge, at dinner, in bed, the paternity test. Everything she had documented throughout their affair.

Your father promised then to make small payments for her and the child, but she was more interested in the pay from the newspaper’s that they would give for these pictures.

That was four months ago. No word from Kat, no news from the media.

He sat in his office thinking about the past events when you burst through the doors. “Y/N!” he announced, standing up to give you a hug. “Hi dad,” you smiled, sitting across from him. “What is the reason for the visit? How is the apartment treating you?” he asked, cracking his knuckles. “It’s nice. It’s all really nice,” you said. “I was wondering if I could borrow some money for my birthday.”

You always said borrow to make yourself feel better. You never payed him back. But what was he for then? A dad who never payed much attention in your life. He had to compensate that somehow.

“Where is it this year? London?” he asked. “I-I was thinking something more lowkey. A night out in Gotham.”

Your father sighed. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“Why?” you asked, crossing your arms. “With all these Riddler attacks…” “Dad, trust me. I can handle myself.” you scoffed. “Y/N, sweetheart. He is strapping bombs to people. People who I worked closely with.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, people you work with. I don’t work with you.” you said, pursed lips.

A moment of silence lingered between you two.

“I guess,” he sighed. You squealed and hugged him, thanking him. “I’ll wire you the cash!” he yelled after you as you were leaving his office.

***

Edward sat at the counter, doodling away at his drawing. He was copying the cheap print on the diner wall, adding his own details. Making it more his style. He was too interested in his artwork and his coffee to notice you walk in.

You would have never usually chose this spot. The nearest Starbucks was closed for the night, and you were craving caffeine. You had to write a speech for the Animal Shelter you had been volunteering for. You donated a large sum of money to the place. And tonight was the night you were going to write your speech.

“Can I have a large black coffee?” you asked the waitress. “That all?” she asked. “Um, a slice of pumpkin pie too.”

Edward perked up and looked over, realizing this stranger had just ordered his exact order.

And the stranger was you.

His heart skipped a beat. He set down his coffee a little too hard, causing a bit to spill on his artwork. You looked over at him.

Edward swore to himself internally, knowing he completely fucked up.

He looked back up at you, and you gave him a slight smile. You looked down at the picture he was drawing, now covered in droplets of coffee.

“S-same order I get,” he managed to spit out. An explanation. “Is it any good?” you asked him, leaning your hip against the counter waiting for your order. “Is what?” he asked, intimidated by your beautiful presence. “The food?” you smirked, cocking your head. “O-oh, yeah. It’s great here.” he said, letting out a small smile. The waitress set your food down on the counter space next to him.

You never usually spoke to strangers like this, but this man seemed kind. You were in a need for good company anyways. Everyone around you always seemed fake. Hazel, your brothers, your father, Bruce. All monetary based relationships. You craved something natural. Something real.

You took the first bite of pie and shook your head. “This is amazing,” you said astonished. “Best pie in all of Gotham,” Edward said. “You, sir, might be right about that.” you smiled, wiping the corner of your mouth with the napkin.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself. “Edward,”

Ed never was this social. The last time he spoke to anyone in this depth was a co worker, probably years ago. It just broke his heart watching you, so perfect, about to be ruined by the corruptness of Gotham. Just another victim to the dirtiness of the city.

The two of you went on conversing until closing time. You asked him about his drawing, if he did other drawings, what he was interested in. When you tried to solve some of his riddles, his heart fluttered. You liked the innocence in him. He didn’t know who you were (at least to your knowledge) and treated you like a normal person. It was hard to explain to him and still seem normal what you did with your life. Edward admired that you volunteered for a living. Giving to others who had none. If he would have had someone like you in the orphanage, his life would have gone a lot better. He just knew it.

When you two separated at the end of the night, you never expected to see him ever again. You cursed yourself on the subway home that you should have gotten his number. He was so innocently adorable, someone wholesome. You needed that in your life. Hazel would ridicule you for your ‘poor choice in a man’. Your brothers would bully the shit out of him at family functions. But you didn’t care. He was real.

Edward knew he would see you again. He would make sure of it. You were the one thing in Gotham that wasn’t bad. You sparkled in a city of grime.

He thanked whatever god was looking down on him. He was granted the experience of meeting you, out of the thousands of people in Gotham. You.

***

Edward tracked your almost every move. He sat in his discreet car across the street of your apartment. He found the new purchase documents online. He had to unscript some of the documents, but found your address easily. He would see you get chauffeured to your volunteer sites. This week you went to the animal shelter, along with a homeless shelter. He admired that about you. You would get home at around four/five pm, which gave you time to get ready for the night activity. Every night you would either have friends over, leave to go to the diner (which you secretly did in hopes of seeing Edward again. He didn’t know this was the reason.), have dinner with your mother, or have a night in for yourself. Lights out at about ten, and you would wake up at seven. Your whole routine down to a point.

He would stand in the corner of a store on the street. He knew you walked this way everyday to reach the volunteer center. And today, the same god smiled down at him because he was given this bit of information.

“Hazel, the Fort Adolphus venue is fine. Yes. It’ll be fun, I promise. Yeah, I think seven is a good time…”

Edward froze when he heard this. Your birthday, he assumed. It was two days away. And Fort Adolphus was one of the most prestigious venues in Gotham. Only a senator would be lucky enough to book it. And give it to his daughter to use for her birthday party.

***

Edward arrived at the venue at four pm. He quickly seeked out one of the party coordinators. Distracting him, he took him into a back closet and tazed him. Stole his clothes, and locked him in. He would be out for a few hours, the taser was powerful.

And with that, he did what he did best. Blend in.

You arrived at 6:30. You wore a black minidress, with a sheer torso. You had gold chains as straps. The fabric was bunched up to give a ripple affect. Your hair was curled, and makeup was on perfectly. Edward noticed you when he heard your black heels click on the marble floors. You looked like a goddess.

“Welcome to the Fort Adolphus venue Miss L/N, let me find a coordinator to help you get settled,” the woman at the door said. She noticed Edward standing around and doing nothing and called for him.

He had just made fate happen.

“You! Sir!” she called out to Edward. That is when your eyes met again. Your eyes lit up, giving him a smile. “Ed?” you asked, joining his presence. “Funny seeing you,” he chuckled, pushing his clipboard against his waist. “He can escort you to your private back room.” the woman at the door said. “Right,” Edward confirmed, playing along with his role.

“I didn’t know you were a party coordinator,” you said, watching your team pile out of your car. Hair, makeup, wardrobe on standby. “I’m not,” he said, realizing he made a mistake. “Uh, one night only. Temporary gig,” he managed to get out before raising suspicion. The two of you got to a room labeled ‘Back Room A’. He hoped it was the one for you, and to his luck it was. Gifts laid across a wide table in the middle of the room. Expensive alcohol and food was on the opposite wall. A large couch and a vanity also sat in the room. “There you are,” he said awkwardly, opening the door. “Will I see you tonight?” you asked him as he was about to shut the door. “Um…” Edward thought. “No, I’m only pre-party crew.” he lied. Definitely wasn’t going to stick around. He wasn’t a party person anyways.

He was expecting you to close the door after that, but you didn’t. You got out your phone. “I meant to do this at the diner, but do you have a phone number? Well, of course you have a phone number, I’m just asking if-” “Yeah sure, um…” he said, interrupting you.

Y/N L/N just asked for his phone number. Oh my god. And she was nervous about it!

After you exchanged them, he began to slowly close your door to give you some privacy. You grabbed his hand on the door knob, and looked directly in his eyes.

“Ed?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Y-your welcome. May I ask for what?” he stuttered.

“Being real.”

Part 2

tag list: @beenz-beenz @nikonluvsdano @fikism @liveforkarljacobs @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 1 year

Text

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Title: “Secrets will be told” SERIES PART 3

Part 1

Part 2

-TWO YEARS AFTER THE EVENTS OF PART 2-

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne (from the show Gotham) and Female reader. BOTH BRUCE AND READER WILL BE 26-28 in this part.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, other than that, none

Summary of series: Bruce Wayne was captivated when he met Y/N, and the feeling was mutual. Dating turned into being engaged and engaged to married. They knew each other’s secrets and told each other everything; they confided in one another. But once Y/N follows Bruce back to Gotham, he begins to change... He becomes secretive, is he having an affair? Y/N needs to find out the truth.

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

The Day after the Wedding

We chose to go to Bora Bora for our honeymoon. Bruce had rented an overwater Bungalow. I haven’t seen him this calm in almost two years; not since he proposed. He has not been calm since Jeremiah Valeska escaped Arkham. Jeremiah has been running loose for two years, and there has not been an encounter with him yet.

But being here, being surrounded by a big body of water and by a literal jungle, he has been at peace. I was lying out enjoying the sunlight, and Bruce was across from me doing push-ups. For the last two years, he has bulked up a lot; he worked out every single day, sometimes twice a day.

I brought down my sunglasses, and I watched the newly formed muscles tighten with every movement. But what caught my attention, was the scars along his spine. I stood up and walked over to where he was, and my fingers gently pressed against the faded red and white colored marks. “Bruce, what happened? When did this happen?” I asked, and he sat up.

“I don’t know years ago, maybe?”

“No, some these are recent. Why do you have scars, Bruce?” I questioned again, and his hand went to my cheek. “Baby, when I do jiu jitsu, and other things like combat training, I tell the guys to not go easy on me. That’s all they’re from.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and helped me up off of the ground. “Do you want to join me for a swim, Mrs. Wayne?” he asked, and I smiled. My heart fluttered at his words, Mrs. Wayne. I was now Mrs. Wayne. He turned to look at me, “What? Oh-- do you like it when I call you Mrs. Wayne?”

Another smile broke across my lips. Bruce pulled me by my hips, and he brought a gentle, yet hungry kiss to my lips. He kissed down to my jaw, and then worked his way to my neck, “You so gorgeous, Mrs. Wayne.”

It wasn’t too long until we were back in the bed again, and I never thought about his scars again. Two full months of honeymoon bliss; being married to Bruce has its perks. He was able to stay away on a vacation for as long as he liked.

---------

-TWO MONTHS AFTER WEDDING AND HONEYMOON-

When we got back home, Bruce became tense all over again. I wasn’t even sure how to begin to help him at this point. He started to become distant and more quiet than usual. Hours were spent at the gym in the mornings and we would pass each other by as I was going out the door for work.

After our honeymoon, things changed-- he began coming home late at night, and then he would disappear in the middle of the night. The first few weeks, I did not really pay any mind to him leaving. But after a month of him leaving our bed at midnight, I decided to follow him.

I waited until he was out of bed for five minutes, and I grabbed my robe and quietly made my way down the stairs. He was not in his study, nor was he anywhere else in the house. All of his cars were parked in the garage, and when I came back inside, I bumped into Alfred.

“Oh, Mrs. Wayne, you are up late.” Alfred said, and my hand went to his shoulder. “Please, call me, Y/N, Alfred. I was looking for Bruce. Do you know where he went?” I asked, and he hesitated.

“Sometimes Bruce has nightmares. Caused by the death of his parents; it still troubles him deeply. Sometimes he will go out for a run to tire himself out.” Alfred rambled, and I sighed.

I whispered a quiet: “Thank you” and made my way to the kitchen. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I waited for Bruce. I was sitting at the kitchen island, and I looked down at my wedding band and engagement ring. Shaking my head, I picked up my cellphone and tried calling Bruce. Each call went to voicemail, and each time he didn’t answer, my heart would drop. But an all too familiar jingle was playing across the room. With the phone to my ear, I walked over to the stove and Bruce’s cellphone was sitting next to it. He left his phone. Why? I hit the “end call” button and slammed it on to the counter. I brought my glass of wine to my lips and took a long drink.

The wine must have been making me emotional, because my thoughts began to wander. Bruce leaving every night at the same time, and not coming back until four or five in the morning. That led to one explanation: Bruce was having an affair. Two months into our marriage, and he wasn’t happy? It didn’t make sense. Was I doing something wrong?

Before I could finish that thought, Bruce crept through the hallway across from the kitchen. I wiped the tears from cheeks, and quietly went into the living room. I did not have the energy to deal with this tonight; I had to find out more before I accuse him of something he may or may not be doing. But I also could not face him tonight, and I grabbed a blanket and laid down on the couch.

When I woke up the next morning, my head was throbbing, and I was back in our master bedroom. Bruce was buttoning up his shirt, and when caught glimpse of me in the mirror, he smiled. “Good morning, babe. I put some Tylenol and a glass of water on the nightstand.” Bruce said as he nodded towards the nightstand.

I gave him a small smile and took the pill along with the water. A small bruise adorned Bruce’s jaw, and I cocked my head to the side, trying to get a better glimpse of the purple and blue bruise.

I threw the covers back and my hand went to his jaw, “Did they have to hit you in the face?” I questioned and his eyebrows drew together. “What- what do you mean?” he asked.

“Your jiu jitsu group... That’s who hit you, right?” I questioned and he sighed. “Oh. Yes. Practice got a little rough; that is all.”

I folded my arms up to my chest, “Was that after you left at midnight? I thought you went on a run. At least that is what Alfred suggested you were doing.” Bruce turned to me as he tightened his tie.

“I went on a run. Then after that I went to the gym. I couldn’t sleep.” he said, and before he could walk away, I shook my head. “Your cars were in the garage. Surely you didn’t run all the way into the city.”

“I called a cab. And I came home in a cab.” Bruce grabbed his suit jacket, and he walked out of bedroom. Tears brimmed my eyes, he was lying. There was no cab. He never calls cabs. His cellphone was on the counter.

Bruce lied to me and that was enough evidence all in itself. He got the bruise from somewhere else, and I was going to find out. I picked up our bedside telephone and dialed the number to the gym Bruce frequented.

“Hello, Donnie’s gym, how can I help you?”

“This is Mrs. Wayne. I am calling in regard over my husband Bruce Wayne’s account. I’m paying bills this month and was wondering what I owe you for this month, Donnie?” I asked.

“Ah Y/N! It’s good to hear from ya. Now, Bruce hasn’t been to the gym since before you guys tied the knot. He hasn’t been in uh--- maybe two years? I do appreciate his donations though. Keeps the place running.” Donnie said, and my grip tightened on the phone.

“Oh. I see. Well, how much does he donate? I can fill out a quick check and mail it to you.” I say, and Donnie sighed.

“Usually $2,000.” I scribbled down the amount on a sticky note, “Well, thank you Donnie. Bye-bye now.” I say before hanging up the phone. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the diamond ring on my finger.

I wiped the tears away before they could fall. I was going to Wayne Enterprises, and this was getting sorted out now.

-----

When I walked into the building, I was greeted by multiple people. “Mrs. Wayne, would you like me to call up to Mr. Wayne and inform him that you are here?”

I shook my head, “No, I am here to surprise him.” I say before the elevator door closed behind me with a ding. The elevator door stopped at the top floor, and I walked out of the elevator. Bruce’s main secretary Sidney looked up from her computer screen: “Oh! Hi, Y/N! How are you?”

“I am great, thank you. Is Bruce in a meeting?” I asked, and she shook her head. “No, a matter of fact, he just went back into his office.” I thanked her and walked over to Bruce’s office door. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, and a woman was standing next to Bruce looking out the big glass window.

They both turned and looked at me; Bruce’s eyes widened, and the woman’s eyes trailed over to look at Bruce, and then her attention went back to me.

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

Hey guys! Sorry I didn’t post this sooner; I got super busy with school and studying. I know these chapters are fast paced, and I apologize for that. But I hope you enjoyed, Comment if you want to be added/removed from taglist.

TAGLIST: @rl800 @auspicious-lilana @theclassicvinyldragon

#dc comics #dc heroes #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #gotham #the batman imagine #batman x reader #alfred pennyworth

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