Bruce Wayne X Reader - Blog Posts

What Makes a Woman?

Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

Summary: Bruce learns some things from living with a woman for the first time.

Notes: talks about periods, so it is an afab reader. Fluff, slight NSFW, teeny bit of angst and brief mention of violence. This is post Dick, pre Jason because I like that age range for Bruce. But Dick doesn't actually make an appearance. Just making fun of Bruce and his rich bachelor boy ways. Bruce drinks his respect women juice every morning for breakfast.

Masterlist

Bruce, for all his worldly experience, has never lived with a woman. Sure, he's brought plenty of them home for a night, even vacationed with them, but that's different. Any woman, anyone who’s lived with a woman could tell you that it's different. But Bruce didn't know that, because he's never lived with a woman before.

This thought had never occurred to you until now. Why would it? You're not oblivious to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich playboy. You know he's experienced when it comes to women - in other realms. Not to mention he's also a father, there being plenty of unique situations that go along with that title. You know he's lived with wealth, you also know he's lived in the desert and most likely a multitude of other foreign places he hasn't told you about yet. Which is why you're staring at him blank faced right now. Because due to all of this, not once had it crossed your mind that one situation Bruce Wayne was not experienced in, was living with women. Such a simple, mundane thing that you had to laugh.

"What?" Bruce is giving you an adorable offended look, which only makes you snicker more. Clearly, his inexperience in this field is something that never crossed his mind either.

"Nothing," you soothe, "it's just, well, it's part of living with a woman, Bruce. We have a lot of hair. Have you ever owned a dog?"

"You're making fun of me, I can tell." His voice is serious but his eyebrows are raised playfully.

"No! I'm just warning you now, so that you aren't alarmed when you start finding it in your ass crack."

Bruce laughs out loud and turns away, leaving you to your business.

"I know how much you appreciate being prepared," you call after him. You can hear that he's still chuckling to himself.

"You are right about that," he replies. "And now I certainly am, thank you."

You smile to yourself, still laughing, and go back to what you were doing before Bruce came in and started questioning you. You're sitting on the floor next to the shower, pulling hair out of the drain. Judging by his concerned and slightly disgusted face when he walked in, Bruce did not in a million years expect to see his partner pulling a wad of hair and gunk out of his shower.

"Why don't you ask Alfred to pour something down and clear it out?"

"Do you see how thick this is?" You held up a chunk of hair. Bruce winced. "It's not going to dissolve that easily. Besides, I wanna take a shower now. It's clogging up the drain and I don't wanna stand in a lake."

"That's what's been clogging the drain? I thought there was a problem with the plumbing," the disgust is renewed on his face.

"You didn't think to look?"

"Why would I? I was just going to call someone to fix it."

"Oh my god."

That's when realization dawned on you. Bruce didn't have sisters, he's never had a serious girlfriend before you, he hasn't even lived with his mom since he was eight. It's been him, Alfred, and Dick. In fact, now that you think about it, both Alfred and Dick have lived longer with a woman than Bruce. The idea that a wad of girl hair could truly catch Batman off guard and also bring a look of revulsion to his face admittedly delighted you. What else could you surprise him with?

...

"What is this?" Bruce's voice reaches you from the bedroom. You're in the closet, deciding what to wear for the day.

"What is what?" You call back.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him approach and lean against the door frame. He's smirking - usually a bad sign. Bruce holds up a notebook. It's your period tracking journal. You tell him as much.

"I can see that," he continues, "but what is this." He holds the book open and points to a specific entry. Your face reddens and you snatch the book away from him.

"Have you ever heard of privacy?"

But his smirk only grows into a full grin. "You log our sex?"

"You're supposed to," you defend. "I log almost all of my activity, Bruce. It's for accuracy."

"Ohhh, accuracy. Okay." He walks towards you. "Don't worry, I know all about the scientific method. For accuracy, I'm sure you also must detail exactly which positions we used, how long it lasted, results-"

"Oh my god, stop!"

He laughs, enjoying himself way too much as he tries to grab the journal back from you.

"Do you also track satisfaction?"

You stumble towards the bed and Bruce encourages your fall by pushing you on your back and leaning over you.

"No, I don't do any of that," you pointedly say.

He frowns. "What's the point of a scientific study if no one reads your results to learn from them?"

You roll your eyes. Nevermind, you think, you don't like Bruce finding out about your womanly habits. "You're a child," you say.

Bruce smirks and kisses you. "Care to add an entry?"

...

Thud.

"Who taught you how to do that?" Bruce grunts, lying on the mat and looking up at you, confusion lacing his expression. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also notice a hint of awe, but you don’t want to get too full of yourself.

He dragged you to the cave, insisting on the importance of knowing some basic self defense. "Gotham is a dangerous city, Y/n. Especially for women." You threw him to the ground.

Of course, he'd been going easy on you to let you do such a thing, but the fact that you even knew the action is what surprised him.

"I've taken self defense classes before, Bruce" you say, giving him a hand back up.

"Why didn't I know that?" He sounds offended.

You laugh. "I don't know. I just forget to tell you, I guess."

That excuse doesn't seem to satisfy him.

"When you were a kid?"

"No, as an adult."

"What made you do that?"

You could roll your eyes at his seemingly oblivious question, but there's clearly concern in his voice.

"Just like you said, I'm a woman living in Gotham. And before I met you, I was living alone. Not that Gotham is particularly safe for anybody. But a lot of women take self defense classes, no matter where they live."

"Oh. Of course."

You were right about the concern. His demeanor shifts to something you might call disappointment. Disappointment in humanity, not you.

"Trust me, Bruce. I'm well aware of the problem. I was raised to be aware."

"I should've- " He stops mid sentence, not sure what to say. You can tell he's beating himself up for assuming you didn't already know the dangers to your own sex.

You step forward and place your hands on his biceps, comfortingly, rubbing them up to his shoulders. "Thank you," you say, stopping him before he makes himself too guilty, "for the concern. I appreciate it. But... since I've already done this," one hand gestures to the mat, "does that mean I can go back to my book now?" You add hopefully.

"No. It just means you're more advanced than I thought. We'll start with something harder."

You scowl. You should've known better.

...

A feeling of endearment washes over you, as you read the Daily Gotham article on your phone. No, it's more than just endearment. It's infatuation. Your heart swells with pride. That's my man, you think.

Curled on the couch, you came across an article on "Bruce Wayne's latest political statement." Commenting on politics isn't something you know Bruce to be interested in. So out of curiosity, you click on it. Turns out, a reporter had caught him alone and asked for his opinion of the latest candidate running for mayor. Bruce was not shy to share what he thought of the sexist old creep.

"But am I right in saying that you yourself have had quite a few of your own lady friends, if you know what I mean?"

You mocked a gag at the reporter’s gross question.

"I think if you look back on those tabloid pieces, you'll find that while that might be true, they were all born in the same decade as me."

The article continued to quote Bruce's disdain for all the other ways the new candidate had mistreated women.

"A man like that won't be receiving any support from me."

Even if they disagreed, so many celebrities are content with a "no comment" answer, afraid to make enemies and ruin their chances to keep climbing the socialite ladder. But you were lucky enough to have one of the good ones. A man who wasn’t afraid to stand up against something wrong, public opinion be damned.

"What are you smiling at?" Bruce appeared in front of you, startling you, as he was known to do. Damn him. But you just smiled more and closed your phone.

"Nothing. Come here."

Without hesitation, he sat next to you and pulled you closer to himself. Easily snuggling into his side, you planted a kiss on his jaw.

"I just love you. You're a good person," you said.

He might've been confused, but he certainly wasn't going to question it.

"I love you too."

@theastrokat @millyhelp @the-midnight-duck @obsessednerdymoon @evalynanne @akirashindou @amonett

Oooookay but

Having a passing and flirtatious acquaintanceship with Bruce Wayne

Always getting some flirty line or winking glance when you pass one another in the hall of your workplace

Volunteering for a bachelorette auction for charity, and expecting to have to go out with some guy that you're not interested in

Having Bruce outbid the rest of the competition by shelling out $50,000 for your time (which is insane because the highest bid before he came in was $2,200)

My god the absolute drama of getting picked up in his custom lambo and being taken to one of the most exclusive restaurants in Gotham

The stunned fear when he suddenly disappears in the middle of the restaurant being held up

The absolute irritation when he stumbles out of the bathroom having just narrowly missed seeing Batman, eyeing the subdued robbers and asking what the hell he missed—

Wildest Dreams | BW

pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything

a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

☽☽☽

Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.

You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.

You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.

Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.

Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.

You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.

One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.

“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.

You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.

Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.

“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”

As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.

You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.

You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.

“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.

“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.

Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.

“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.

He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.

You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.

You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.

Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.

You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.

It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.

Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.

From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.

“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Good,” you smiled contently.

Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear? 

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck ­– it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

༊*·˚ Obliviously in Love ˚ · . 15k words

༊*·˚ For the Better ˚ · . 22.1k words

༊*·˚ I'm the Lucky One ˚ · . 3.2k words

༊*·˚ Heartwired Love ˚ · . 6.1k words

༊*·˚ Lover's Liaison ˚ · . 5.7k words

༊*·˚ More coming soon...

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ

༊*·˚ Bale!Bruce Scenarios and Fluff Alphabet ˚ · . 8k words

༊*·˚ Friends with benefits with Bale!Bruce Wayne ˚ · . 2.7k words

༊*·˚ Dating and Jealousy Headcanons ˚ · . 6k words

༊*·˚ "You look stunning" / "You don't look so bad yourself" + "I love you" + Stargazing ˚ · . 4k words

༊*·˚ “You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me” + Protecting you ˚ · . 15.8k words

༊*·˚ "You're intoxicating, you know that, right?” + "You're a forbidden fruit. And I’m tempted to take a bite.” + Make Up ˚ · . 4.9k words

༊*·˚ “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me” + Pregnancy ˚ · . 4.1k words

༊*·˚ More coming soon...

The Other Half Masterlist

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Notes: Welcome back to accidentally-created-a-series-Monday

Not beta-read.

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, fluff, explicit sexual content

Summary: You glance at the man, then freeze, eyes widening. There’s no way that the goddamn Prince of Gotham is on your counter right now. Luckily for you, he’s focused on the tie clips. Maybe he knows you’re staring and is just ignoring it. Maybe he’s just so used to the sensation that he simply doesn’t register it anymore. 

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty One

Part Twenty Two

Sillouethe Of Your Soul.

BatFam x Neglected Reader.

SYPNOSIS: How could anyone missed something they've never had.

WARNING: NOT FOR SENSETIVE PEOPLE OR WHO HATE GORE. (Daddy issue incoming)

Some abuser never realised the extent of their actions nor do they try to understand the person they have hurt, they relish in being in power to chain an angel on Earth with them so they won't feel so envious of it's wings.

Some don't realise their own abused, the harsh word that left wounds deep inside their sweet angel's heart, their silhouette ligures around the house but their soul were never present... They do not understand that their own actions have consequences that hurt more than themselves.

You were abused in the silent ways, no one to cheer you own, no one to help you sleep, no one to love you.

You would watch a family so happy and perfect just that they were your family and you felt like watching as their perfection together formed an art while you watched. Just another audience watching a beautiful art.

"She was an angel"

Bruce began as he sit inside his office that left somewhere empty now... The guy who he was talking was from CPS conducting an interview after your death.

"I should have realised... she wasn't a bird like the rest, she was an angel who just needs some encouragement to fly"

Bruce was better at nursing helpless birds than an angel. He's been a father for more than he could remember but he never took onto consideration on how some kid's aren't all birds and he gave up so soon... After he realised he could nurture you like a bird.

"I would watch her silently, I couldn't realise what I was doing wrong... I didn't knew how to raise a bird like her and I realised something was wrong with her."

You would sit there at the side quietly as the rest of the family played around treating you like a ghost. Their playful banter and smile never reached yourside, you were treated like a guest at your own home.

"I kept trying tho, I pushed and pushed trying to force her to open her wings... Like the rest of the family, but it wouldn't budge"

Bruce would watch as he ordered you to do certain thing's that no one else had to, doing everybody else laundry, extra studies, outside tuition and even excluding you from certain family function.

He knew you weren't strong enough to be a vigilante, that's why the rest of your siblings have a hard time being near you... Your life were different. You were just too 'odd' to be include as a family to them.

"I never knew how much it hurt her..."

You could barely hold back your tears sometimes, everyone get the idle father but to you he was never a father he was just an instructor... Who clearly have favourite.

"I told Alfred to stop making food for her... To learn how to survive on her own, she was already weak I thought I was helping her survive"

You would stood there your eyes looking into the abyss, everyone had their plate on the table yet yours was missing. They did not asked or have a single concern as they happily ate their meal... As your flesh began to decay.

Every Christmas you were gone nowhere to be seen but everyone carried on their life like you were never there at the first place.

Your bones were crushed, your blood being drained slowly as their smile and laughter taunt you.

Why? Why would you ever missed something you never had?

You've spent your whole life without them. Why would you suddenly need them, they were heros... They were obliged to love everyone but you were being singled out.

"I don't know why she didn't scream when they dunk her head into the water"

The brutal scene of your death, some thugs decided to kidnapped you for money but when they realised your family nor the bats were coming they used you to fulfill twisted dreams.

Your wrist was red and some soft skin were pelling off. Tears, sweat and snot on your face as you begged God to save you.

Tim got kidnapped before and he was saved before an hour.. You've been down here for six hours, bruised and broken.

You thought for once that your family would show some mercy and come but they didn't, left you behind in the hands of two merciless people.

For six hour straight you've been beaten, they dunked your head into some cold water and before you could passed out and just let go they would pull your head back.

Your clothes were torn and dirty, your body was aching and there was a fine line of cut on your neck as blood wouldn't stop spewing out of it. Your fingers were mostly broken and you're been hit with a rench which left your jaw broken and your head bleeding.

"Dad...I, mis-ed u..."

You could barely speak but you used the bit of your strength on calling for your father, for him to embrace you in your dying moment... That's what you've wanted for a long time .

Memories flash across your mind as your breath began to slow down. You've watched alot of movies, you always wanted your father to pick you up into the sky and told you that he loved you.

The way a father would look at their daughter and be proud of. Everybody had a father by their side growing up atleast in your eyes, the one to hold their hands while they cheer, the one to embrace them when they accomplish even the smallest of thing.

But, he was never a present father to you. Ever award you won the only thing you care for was your father, you looked into the crowd of faces to see his proud face or just him but he wasn't there.

Unlike everyone else who had a father holding their hands to guide them through the darkness you only had yourself. Every compliment felt meaningless and every compliment was replaced with untold hatred.

"I couldn't stop myself that day... I hold onto her and cried. My baby was dead"

He continued as his face show a slight sorrow but he was holding it back.

"My child, my little angel... Lifeless on the dirty street left there to be eaten by the rats... I couldn't control my tears, so many word left untold... So many praise I've kept to myself, she died thinking she was a burden."

His voice cracked as his throat began to heat up from the emotion he was trying to surpass.

Your body was left at some nearby alleyway, you were still concious when they throw your body onto the cold cement. The light of the city blended in your eyes, you lay there paralyzed soaking wet from your blood.

It was cold and empty, trying to imagine the warmth of your father, but you couldn't...You didn't know how it felt to be under a father warmth. You never had that.

All those years filled with unsaid words and tension between the two of you. You couldn't speak and he didn't knew how to care for you. You watched as he would nurture all your siblings buy you.

Every birds by his side cuddling and loving while your feathers began to fall to warmth your heart, to play the role of being loved. You sacrifice your own greatness for fatherly love.

"Her body was cold and empty, not the girl I watched grew up... Her blood were warm, like she was trying to comfort me for the last time..."

Bruce looked at his hands as he looked back at the guy, he recoll running towards the scene, pushing the GCPD aside when they tried to stop him... But a father could never be stopped when their child is at stake.

He saw your body near the trash, they threw you away like you didn't meant anything but a trash to be taken out after it was done with.

He went on his knees as he dirty his perfect suit, his hands holding onto your body as he began to sob... Your face have went pale and he could see the damage done to your jaw and the large bruise on your left eye.

The bruise was swollen, purple and red colouring it... Seemed like they had hit you with something hard.

"Whoever killed her treated her no different from an animal. I hold onto her hands, I prayed to God to do something... I was... Late, too late to be a father to her."

"I ruined a beautiful angel... I wasn't a father... I treated her differently... I was too sucked up to understand that she needed a father and not Bruce..."

"I just, hoped that no father would do this to their child... She was my child, my angel, my baby... And I would die to bring her back and told her... I love you always"

I know this is shittu but im bored.

BatBoy x Hero Reader.

SYPNOSIS: Being the subject of admiration of kids is a real privilege.

IMP: Reader is only 5 year's older.. Reader do not reciprocate the feelings.

Dick Grayson:

He liked you before he was Robin, before the light were on him just because you complimented his mother. Most Heroes don't really have the time to take personal note of citizens but you did, and he wasn't ashamed about liking you hell everybody knows that the you g boy liked you. The way his eyes would sparkle whenever he saw you or how he was trying his best to impress you like how kods would.

He broke his leg because he was trying to impress you, forgetting about the fact that he jumping through roofs too occupied with making sure you were watching he totally forgot everything he have learnt. It was embarassing for him pretending that his broken leg was just some boo-boo but you saw through him. Gave him a piggy back home which made him promise to you that he would be stronger and he'll carry you like that one day.

Bruce wouldn't stop lecturing him, scolding him for broking his leg for 'validation'. The moment Bruce somewhat insult you the young boy definitely defended you with his whole heart. He did not care who he had to face no one talk about you like that to him. Alfred wouldn't stop passing remarks about you from that day.

Jason Todd.

He started to like you when you gave him food when he was still living in the street. To you it was just giving a poor kid some food but to him... You were an angel sent by God personally for him and luckily he got to meet you again by fate.

He was more reckless than any of your mentee and definitely more ruthless, Bruce already told you about his bad tendency but you treat him like a normal person. With him around you could go through a whole mission while closing your eyes he would take care of everything for you before you can ask. If any thug get a hit on you, boom! A dislocated arm. After each patrol with yoy Bruce would lecture him again and again, and as a result he was permitted from patrolling with you alone.

He took it like a champ and run straight to your house with his belongings, a credit card he stole from Bruce on his hand. Begging you take him and run away somewhere without Bruce. He ended up staying with you for two months before the unthinkable happened.

Tim Drake.

Being liked by him have to be the worst dream for heros. Not only did he show up at your apartment with a whole binder full of why you were the exact hero he demanded for him to be your sidekick. He even brought a list of chores. He talked about how easy it was and even bringing a presentation on how to hide your identity better cause not every kid deserves to know your identity he needs your validation real bad.

Not only did he not get to live with you he instead got to live with the dark knight. Even during Patrol he wouldn't stop asking you questions which you answered, everything but the 'Can you love a sidekick?'.

Bruce is very sick of your name now, everytime he did something wrong Tim was ready to bring his luggage to your apartment. For Bruce he was learning every random fact about you through his bored kid "Their bathroom is atleast 5 feet by 8 feet", "They're neglecting their school work, especially on friday", "They eat ramen everyday... We should give them money".

Bruce made Tim your contingency plan.

Damian Wayne.

Damian started to 'care' about your presence after you flicker his forehead when he was stating facts. He was amazed by your audacity so much that he ended up at your apartment analyzing everything and memorizing them. It was because if he has to fight you it'll be inside your own home and he'll laugh at you when he ended you in your own comfort.

That never happened he ended up cleaning your apartment out of pity. Gradually he would 'soften' letting you do his hair or let you touch his personal weapon he treasure dearly. To him you weren't just a person you were the embodiment of warmth and he wasn't going to let any one took that warmth from him, they should thank him if they managed to left with only a broken rib.

Bruce saw you as a huge disaster and tried to send you to blüdhaven for your own and his son sake. Damian would always visit you every single night, he couldn't be at ease knowing his trust was so far away so he made sure that you were taking care of yourself not because he love you and only because you were the missing part of him. Being lectured by a kid on how to live isn't fun.

Yandere BatFam x *other dimension* reader.

SYPNOSIS: Your false family aren't happy about the fact that you can finally go back home..

For year's you have been pretending to be happy with your false family but in reality you've been trying your best to get back home.

They were loving and kind but their intentions was sickening.

The tracking device inside your body, the constant unnerving questions, the eyes, the lack of privacy and the constant losing of memories.

Everything was off, your phone camera would sometimes flash red and it was pretty obvious Tim was watching you through it, it was a silent warning for you to not do anything unpleasant.

The way Dick would always follow you around even outside blüdhaven, talking and suddenly it would go to asking about your personal life and not answering was not an option.

Jason trying to guide you through your life by forcing you to stick by his side while he gunned down anyone who dares to stare at you inappropriate.

Damian who tried to hypnotize you to forget about your real home and even getting a demon involved in the process.

Barbara who always track you down and if she have a feeling of dangerous she would send any of the family to drug you and being you back to her.

She made a special drug for you, fast working and keep a person vulnerable for an hour.

Cass who would try to paralyzed you at some point because that was the safest option.

She directly told you about ut, saying if she cut a specific nerve from your body your body would shut down until that nerve somehow heal... Which would never happened.

Her reasons she misses you too much.

The most normal one was Stephanie, she threatened ever one of your friends because you didn't need friends when you have them.

But at times you even question yourself, she treated you like some treasure and not a person. If anybody from outside the family touches you she would freak out... Forcing you to clean the area or even forcing you to wash yourself thoroughly.

At the same time sge would manipulate you, setting scenarios in your head just do she could force you to do anything sge wanted which was to isolate you from any other life.

Duke would try to blind you if you ever threaten them to leave.

He did blind you once and it was a true Horror, everything was black- no, you couldn't even describe what you saw in that state... Not only was it an endless void, you heard your own voice desperately sobbing the feeling of wet hand's as they tried to rip you onto pieces.

You couldn't sleep after that your own thoughts went out of control and you went mad. Bruce had to hook you up to some machine again just so you could forget preventing you from going crazy.

Alfred would feed you things before you go out and the next day you would find yourself on your bed, when you asked about last night he would simply said you were too tired and decided to stay inside.

And the worst of them all... Bruce, he did kidnapped you from the league ready to harm any of the league members if they tried to take his precious daughter away from them. As a result building your way back some become harder but not impossible.

All your sacrifices have led up to this moment, standing infront of the glowing portal. A way back home.

Before you could run into it your left leg fell numb.

Before you could understand what was going on you fell on the ground both your leg have feel numb, your muscles completely given up on you.

"Aw, is our little bird trying to run?"

Dick voice was loud and clear. At that moment you realised you have fucked up bad.

You tried to crawl, pushing your way towards the portal using every of your strength to get back home. You were desperate and they know.

You felt something warm coming up your throat as velvety blood began to vomit out of your mouth, the effects of the poison taking a huge toll on you. Your breath became hollow as well.

Your vision being blocked by white and red light, you could feel some blood seeping out from your nails as they drool down on the fine marble.

"... It's not very nice of you to disappear on us"

Barbara spoke, she talked like this was normal. Watching you as you desperately crawl towards the glowing portal.

Suddenly your left arm began to numb, the sensation of fire went through your body as tears began to well up.

You didn't gave up, you couldn't it was so close. You force yourself to your limit digging on the floor and pulling your body weight.

You felt your nail snapping, ripping from your skin but luckily you could feel it.

Before you could pull again your hand stop moving as well.

Your body was numb all over, none of your muscles wanted to move, it was as if your muscles were cut off leaving you in a paralyzed state.

"Im sorry Master... I supposed the tea was extremely effective than I have anticipated"

Alfred was here to. He did indeed offered you his special tea, he must have laced it...

You tried to speak but you couldn't your tongue didn't even move your lips didn't even part... Not even a pathetic whimper made it our.

Your body was shutting down and It was all their doing.

To keep you in a paralyzed state so you'll forever stay by their side.

To stuff you inside some robot and rearrange your brain to their liking.

You were just some customisable character to them not a person.

"We didn't want to resort to this, to paralyzed you neck down... but don't worry we have some machine we will hook you up to. You'll be in this state until you better yourself"

Dc character x *new* hero Reader

Synopsis: Being a hero is actually very simple.

Batman who decided to give Reader a tour of the street.

Batman: "This ally is especially dangerous as it is a blind spot and have man-"

*Joker appearing out of nowhere.*

Batman: "Stay behind me I'l-"

Reader who got so scared that they ran atleast one mile away.

Reader: "I'll watch from here... Beat his ass!"

Joker trying to traumatized Reader.

Reader: "Why are you ugly?"

Joker: "Are you mocking me?"

Reader: "You are ugly"

Joker: "If you dare move I'll slit their throat"

Reader picking up a broken pipe and throwing at the Joker, hitting their knee with a loud crack.

Reader: "God damnit... that was supposed to end your bloodline"

Hal minding his own business.

Reader: *Whispering into his ears* "Nuclear... Nuclear, big boom. Nuclear..."

Hal: "What...?"

Reader: "I just wanted to see how easily distracted you are and how easy it would be to manipulate your thoughts"

Hal: "By saying nuclear? trying to kill us or what?"

Reader: "I mean... There's a great reason why I am not a green lantern"

Wonder woman saving Reader during a big fight.

Reader: "I do love a strong woman... God I wish she could kill me"

Random civilian side eyeing Reader.

Reader: "What? Im being honest"

Lex destroying the city.

Reader: "I can't see! His head is reflective!"

Superman: "what...?"

Reader: "His Baldness! that must be his ultimate weapon!"

Lex now wore wig.

Slade: "What are you going to do now?"

Reader: "Cry"

Slade: "..."

------------ ☁️

Thinking of writing for this <3

Yandere batfamily x Reader

Imagine a scenario where Reader isn't being negelected and Reader is the one neglecting them instead.

Reader who isn't even that interesting constantly being pampered by their family members so that they could be called their favourite.

Dick who tried his best ever since Reader became part of the family wanting to be the first person they can rely on.

Dick: "If you ever have a problem just call me you know I'll always make time for you, little wing"

Reader: "You have nothing important in your life going on... Im sure I'll be much happy if you were even abit busy once"

It doesn't matter how great his achievements are the only time Reader every acknowledge him was when he was moving out.

Dick: "You'll visit me right, little wing?"

Reader: "Sure... Your new debut as Nightwig is just so... amazing!"

Dick: "Nightwing you meant-"

Reader: "Whatever, I can't wait to take your room!"

Reader does not acknowledge Dick achivement in life and thinks they're just slacking off, they do not like his shitty dating life as well.

*Dick talking to you about love and how you should be careful.*

Reader: "May your kind of love never find me".

Dick: "...Wow"

Reader: "Supposed to Amen to that"

Jason Todd who tried to impress Reader by showing of his skill and just because he wanted to be praised by you.

Jason: "I assure you my skill are the best in Gotham".

Reader: "Not the best in the world means you're the worst... Talk to when you have some senses".

Tim was also a problem for Reader, he was constantly boasting about his intelligent and grade little did Reader know... He was only boasting to get praise specifically from you.

Tim: "Look I got a 98.4 on my math exam, impressive?"

Reader: "...What happened to the other 1.6?"

Reader absolutely do not like to be near Tim and avoid him most because to Reader, Tim was a little obnoxious little boy who like to talk big about his intelligent which annoyed Reader.

Damian always somewhat admire you, you weren't strict and you do not like kid's like him... He was shocked to see you rejecting him only for him to make it his mission to make you think otherwise..

Damian: "I supposed you'll find my painting quite pleasant"

*Damian showing his extremely hyper realistic painting of you completely with an extremely detailed background that took him month's to finished.*

Reader: "Cool"

*Reader when they saw Jon horribly drawing a stickman.*

Reader: "Oh my fucking God! This is genius! Im going to put it on the fridge! Im so proud of you Jon what a wonderful artist you are that stickman totally have a very deep meaning. So proud!"

Damian: "..."

Bruce who just wanted to be the best father for you only.

Bruce: "Im so proud of you... im glad to have an offspring as great as you are, kid"

Reader: "You're my FATHER?!"

*Reader who thought Bruce took them in as a guest and have no clue he adopted them.*

Now I have come to the realization that not many people other than females have x reader stories written for them. It makes me upset that people who are GN or M!r don't have many stories for them. I myself don't really go by one gender, but I was born female seeing as I go by she/they. I beg of writers to start writing for a bigger audience. Now I will also like to point out that we should also start writing for those with disabilities, I for one am all for doing research to write for anyone with something like autism or down syndrome. Now on to a another big issue DO NOT romanticize suicide or anything like that, I can understand writing something special like how they helped you through your suicidal thoughts. I have come to realize that as someone with bipolar disorder I don't want my suicide to be romanticized. Now I myself will hold myself accountable for liking those stories but I was young and a angst full teen, I have read some terrible things before and I do regret it. I also regret giving people more audience to write things like forced love. Going into the Steve Rogers x reader tags I have realized that fetishizing forceful intercourse is something many people do in the x reader tags. Please think about the person who put life into the character you are turning into a monster, these actors didn't ask to be in a story where they force you to do the unthinkable.

so, i kinda wanna write a fic where reader is the daughter of Selina (Catwoman) but not related to Bruce Wayne. and after Selina abandons the reader, she is taken in by the Waynes. btw, i’m not sure i will write this during the time Damian is even alive. i don’t know yet, i think that the conflict between Damian and the reader, would be interesting though.

but also i want it to be either a Jason Todd x reader or Dick Grayson x reader, i don’t know which one yet. PLEASE tell me which one you’d rather have.

i haven’t really figured out the specifics yet, but lmk what you guys think. :) <3

Hello! Could I ask for general yandere Bruce Wayne headcanons? Thank you! ^^

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ | ʙ. ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ

ben affleck version cause hes hot

gn reader cuz im a boss

warnings: stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, obsessiveness.

Bruce is typically on the kidnapping side than the manipulation. Manipulation was his second option but he spent months watching you closely and couldn’t contain himself for long.

He isn’t a big fan of the manipulation crap like Diana, he prefers to just take you instead; its his ego or his wealth. 

He uses his money to win you over. 

You are probably wealthy but still on the “unfortunate” side according to Bruce.

I can see Bruce already knowing about you before you even met him, he is the Bruce Wayne and of course you heard of him and his heroic events but you just didn’t really know him.

However, he does watch you first. In his eyes, he doesn’t stalk; he just happens to be patrolling in the carefree nights in Gotham on your side of town. No big deal. The Batman is just caring for all citizens.

He is very delusional about his beliefs and his beliefs only. Doesn’t really care of what anyone thinks of him.

He probably gets judged by the League before they take their darlings.

Like, Diana would get her beloved first and Barry and Victor would give her a weird side-eye but when Bruce first talked about you; Barry and Victor were highly against him. Arthur didn’t care and Clark had already known about Bruce’s intentions.

He is an observer. Probably even knows how long it takes for you to even go to sleep, depending on your mood of course. I can see Bruce even knowing your day-to-day schedule. Whether you work or go to school. He knows how you function and knows what you need to function throughout the day.

He will probably take you when your sleeping or walking to your home. But Bruce is no dumbass. He plans out his kidnapping with the help of Alfred who is too concerned for Bruce’s intentions. 

Predicts the time and everything, everything is planned out and your finally his.

Due to his power as the Batman and his wealth as Bruce Wayne: he is wayyyyyy toooooooo strong to escape. 

Probably monitors your phone because he knows you will contact anyone for help.

Go to Gotham City Police? They know better to turn you back to him.

Your bank accounts are fucked up.

Your social media accounts are deactivated.

Every app has a child's lock on it because it uses it to taunt at you, how defenseless and powerless you are against him.

God forbid you actually manage to escape, somehow break Alfred into letting you go. Now Bruce will never fire Alfred but he does tend to show you both a reminder about what happens if you cross him.

Definitely catches you before you are able to go to any of your friends or family to support.

You have not been in contact with the people you love the most: they are currently under the impression you started a new job opportunity at Wayne Enterprises and will be quiet for a while, but not to worry: Bruce can easily make your family forget about your with a little dash of cash.

Blood, Blood, Blood. Kills what is the most meaningful to you.

Definitely not afraid to get his hands dirty, honestly prefers it.

Reminds you he does everything to protect you.

Because you may not need him but he needs you.

He had been shallow for way long and now takes what he wants.

There is no escaping Bruce Wayne, the Batman.

credz to @/tonystarksproperty

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴊ. ʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇ

female reader....yeah

disclaimer: just a bunch of horny superheroes missing their cookie from y/n

warnings: 18+ content, dark/yandere themes, implied stockholm syndrome, slight voyeurism, dubcon, cuss words guyz & masturbation. (obviously.)

ʙ. ᴡᴀɴʏᴇ

One thing certain: masturbation isn't new to Bruce. It is more as a coping mechanism or stress reliever. He is the man. When he met you (saw you wandering Gotham streets and stalked you home) you put that whole masturbating process on hold. He doesn't have to pleasure himself anymore. 

You were a bit more inexperienced than he is. Don’t take thing old man for granted, he knows how to please and certainly never disappoints in bed. He’s PACKING.. 

However, when you weren’t around to help Bruce, He would take care of it the old fashion way:

Bruce would get annoyed that you weren't around. You were behaving good for once and he allowed to let you go out to catch up with your friends.

Of course it’s the one time you were out when he needed you the most, doesn’t bother him though. 

He would sit as his desk while his cock was throbbing at the slutty photos he took of you during very fun times. God, if he could relive that night he would've. The only time you ever let him thought you willingly. (He drugged your drink that night.)

He grunted in discomfort before shrugging off his sweatpants. “God.” He cursed with hissed teeth, he tried to focus on the screen in front of him that was watching the credit card he gave you as he grabbed his aching cock and stroked through it slightly.

He let out a small grunt while stroking though his girth roughly. He just needed release.

He stares at the photo of you; he put it as a sign to increase his pace. He leaned his head back as his mouth was agape from moaning while bucking his hips.

It was great that Alfred went with you, Bruce didn’t want you to escape without his supervision, so he had the whole place to himself.

He stared at your photo on his phone then writhed utterly, wishing it was you on top of him. “Fuck...” He panted with small curses burning in the back of his throat. “Y/N...” He whimpered. He repeatedly said your name. He felt sweat coat from his forehead and from his black tee.

He let out more huffs while he eyed the ceiling as he sensed his release approaching. “Shittt...” He whimpered again as a growl escaped from his throat.

He is pissed now. What was taking you so long?! He knows this won't solve his “problem” but it will at least ease the pain.  

He sees stars as he reaches his climax. He slams his head back in the chair as his hips bucked upwards as his release shot out freely. “Y/N!” He grunted as he finished. 

He panted heavily like a dehydrated dog. He needed you home before he goes insane.

When you returned, he literally jumped out of his chair just to push you on one the couches. You dropped the groceries in startlement. Alfred was god knows where but he wasn’t here so that’s good. “Bruce?” You asked as the belt you were wearing made a clank sound as it hit the ground. “I need you, now.” He said while stripping you out of your jeans. 

Your legs were now bare. He licked lips his dry lips before throwing your shirt over your head. Bruce flipped you on top while leaning back on the couches comfy surface. "Ride." He commanded with that ‘batman’ aura surrounding him. You nodded almost submissively before grinding your sloppy entrance on his cock. 

He let out an aggressively huff at your teasing. It didn’t take long for him to get irritated and soon penetrating his erected girth inside of you. You let out an breathless gasp while biting your lip, almost drawing blood.

He took this opportunity to put his tongue into your mouth. You founded yourself bouncing on his cock with shaking legs that writhed every time his size touched that one spot.

You kept riding him until you felt your limit approach. Your mouths separated when you gritted your teeth before Bruce slammed your hips to steady as his semen filled your walls.

You lazily fell down on his chest as his cock never left from inside you. “F.....Fuck you.” You stated annoyingly yet breathlessly from his eagerness. “Love you too.” He replied with a passionate kiss before pulling you into a more comfortable embrace.

Bruce seems to be cocky but, on the inside: nothing will ruin this.

ᴄ. ᴋᴇɴᴛ

Clark didn't have any other options! He seems to almost be ashamed of his sex drive cause of Lois. He has a very high libido. He never really masturbated because he did have Lois at the time. Then you hopped in and changed everything. 

He was so confused though, you weren’t around. You explained to him that you were out for brunch with your friends. He got upset, he will never admit but he has terrible separation anxiety. He went everywhere with you. (HE’S PACKINGGGGG)

Clark didn’t think he got so low to pleasure himself by himself. You were experienced enough to take care of both of your sexual needs which was one of things he loved about you:

Clark gets lonely when you weren’t around. Your apartment never been so quieter. To the point where he could even hear his own breathing.

He sat on the couch as his legs shifted uncontrollably. He had just saved a women and her child from a fire and he was already getting stressed out. You knew how excited he got after a mission.

You would always relive it. You were always there. You would cook, clean and be a good little bitch towards Clark which he enjoyed.

 (AND HONESLTY WHO WOULDN’T?)

He finds it harder to control himself as his cock throbs in between his sweats. He had taken off his superman suit and just wore baggy gray sweatpants with a blue tee.  

(YALL KNOW WHAT GRAY SWEATS MEAN??!!)

He attempted to close his legs, but his girth had been hardening and erected. He felt pre slip out of it’s slit. He let out a grunt as his cheeks redden from the heat within his body. 

When did it get so hot in here that he had to kick his legs to cool down? 

He doesn’t remember turning up the air-conditioner.

Finding the displeasure within his sweats. He lowered the pelvis region of his pants slightly for his cock to sprang within his human boxers. He let out a sweaty huff of breathless pleasure as he slowly lowered his boxers.

His cock in glory had been swollen from the lack of stimulation.

He rose his hand: lightly approaching his girth before returning it to his side. 

The hell was he doing? 

Surely you would make it back home to secure his needs. He reassured himself only to look at the pre slipping out of his slit.  

But you were far though. Surely a little bit fun couldn’t hurt. He rose his hand before rubbing his tip. He let out a pleasurable grunt. 

He was enjoying this?

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and began stroking. He let out a gasp from his contact as he leaned his head back within the pillow that was taking care of his aching back muscles. 

His eyes attempted to focus on the roof but it had been a blur with your face. “Y/N.” He whimpered as his hand movements increased. 

He pictured that it was you stroking him, your soft hands against his calloused body, oh how heavenly the feeling was. Your tits bouncing as your hips met his, the way you would grip his biceps to restrain your orgasm to meet his was always mesmerizing.

He kept stroking through his veiny girth as it twitched with pleasure from the bliss. He let out a small yet low moan. “Ughhhh....Y/N.” He repeated shamelessly. His mouth was agape with drool. His legs shifted uncontrollably. He grunted as he felt his limit approached. 

He used his speed to quicken up his pace and he let out small mewls from the action.  

He bucked his hips as he felt himself get close. ''Fuck..Y/N!'' He shouted as he reached his limit. A rope of semen released from his slit as he lifted his hips off the couch. His toes were curled as he landed his body on the couch with a grunt.

He used his clean hand to clutch his sweaty forehead as he eyed the roof: thinking of you. Look at that, the mere thought of you, your smile made his erected cock twitched for more. Very insaitable.

He let out a small whimper before wrapping his muscled palm onto his cock and stroke with pride. He no longer cared, you did brought this upon him. He continued to stroke himself while playing with his balls shamelessly. He needed this. It’s been a while since you two...

He deserved this. He was the world's greatest hero, no offense to the league of course, but he needed some relief in a while. “Y/N....” He begged as he heard you giggle. “Yes, Clark?” You asked as your arms were folded against your chest.

What do you know? He loves you so much he can daydream your entire body in a heartbeat. “Fuck me.” He said shamelessly as his head rested on the couch. Another giggle left your beautiful lips that wished was wrapped around his cock before straddling his lap. 

He thought he was fantasizing but he didn't think you were actually there.

His eyes went wide at your face was filled with a smile. “Y/N! I didn’t hear you come in..” He said, almost embarrassed that you caught him in this state. 

You brought a finger to his lips. “Let me help you, Clark.” You said seductively. He nodded eagerly at your vulgar words. You stripped out of your clothes. You were bare on his lap as he was fully clothed. 

You both had an intense make out session when he swiftly ripped his shirt. You playfully grinded your ass against his aching bare cock. He rolled his eyes in pleasure from you teasing. 

He grunted as you slowly lapped his cock with your soft hands. He was giving long yet low moans. “Y/N...” He whimpered that caused butterflies to form within your stomach. 

You smirk in response. “Please...touch me.” He stated submissively. You let out a snicker before sitting up on his bulky lap. You slowly lowered your throbbing pussy onto his cock.

He reacted with his head leaned back deeply into the couch as his toes curled slightly. You bit back a moan as you attempted to take all of his size once. You grunted while riding his cock. His hands found themselves onto your hips as he called your name repeatedly with bliss.  

Wasn’t this a sight, Clark Kent: the strongest hero, pussymatized by you. You continued to ride on his cock. You clenched your walls deeply against his cock. “Shit...Y/N. I’m gonna..” he exclaimed with clutched eyes. You brought your forehead down to his. “It’s okay, Clark.” You reassured with a small smile.

You both always used protection or the pulling out method. The thought of children never came to mind. But now, you both were ready. He gritted his teeth before deepening his pace to your cervix. 

He then spurted his semen within you. He had been into your neck, sucking your warm skin to contain his moans while you were rubbing his locks for support.

You felt your stomach gone warm. You both had been incredibly hot and sweat decorated your bodies. You looked at him with tear filled orbs. You were happy for once with him. He smiled before pulling you to a loving kiss. You then got up off him, not worrying about his semen leaking out of you. 

He felt a wave of pride swoon him over at the sight of his semen leaking out of your drenched entrance. “Round two in the bath!” You yelled before running to the shower. Clark ran after you with a chuckle at your childish antics.

You both shared a passionate night. A very very passionate night

ᴅ. ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ

Somebody get her a sex-ed class maybe a book cause Diana was mostly confused. Poor lady: she didn’t know how sexual customs went and that was what you were for. To educate her about intimacy.

You happened to be there for Diana whenever she had a lot of stress. Some called you sex friends but Diana shamelessly admitted that you had been together. You moved in with her after a one night stands. She's a lady, woman to be in professional; she didn't think females could masturbate or pleasure themselves. (SHE GOT BODY LIKE CRAZYY)

Everyone would laugh at the pure girl but she wasn’t pure at all. She was dominant to the soul. Maybe she comes off as pure because of her confusion but that’s definitely an act. You both messed around with each other a lot. 

What made her upset is how you were going to go visit an old companion and wouldn’t be back for some time. She gets annoyed but she understands. She felts her core swell up at every thought she had about you. She would try everything to get her mind off her urges. But they were too strong. Stronger than the god's spirts:

Diana is a hurricane of emotions without your presence. She could be very snappy or very professional depending on her mood.

She didn’t know why she was aching so much. She’s been around for a while which means she understood the life of a woman body but never had such a problem before. She shifted in her skirt under her desk as she attempted to focus on the screen in front of her.  

An email that Bruce sent her. She felt sparks under her body radiating from her clothed clit that had been dripping from the thought of your bitable skin. The way your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she taste your insides. 

Gods, she was horny now. She needed to taste you, feel you, make you and herself feel good.

She tried playing it off, crossing her leg over the other as her core throbbed within her panties that you actually bought her. She earned glances at her co-workers. ‘Now do you see what you do to me, Y/N.’ Diana shamelessly thought as she clenched her right leg into her left.

She felt her juices within her drenched undergarments slip down her leg. She let out a small gasp: causing her workers to stare. She jolted with the substance leaking down her leg. Scrubbing her legs together, she excused herself to the bathroom.

She leaned on the wall as her bun was slightly messy from its comfort. She locked the door before rolling down her skirt. She looked at her sore pussy. Aching without your touch. She felt herself go rogue. She pulled down her panties and rubbed her nub.

Small portions of liquids leak out of her. She put her finger within her entrance. Something you always did. She leaned her back with a muffled moan with her right hand. 

She thrusted her coated fingers in and out of her entrance as her moans kept increasing slightly behind her muffled hand. “Y/N.” She whispered within clutched eyes as she added another finger.

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head as her right-hand fingers trailed to her tucked in shirt. She unbuttoned it then played with her breast. She let out a moan from the pleasure she received. She had been fondling her breast and playing with her clit at the same time.  

The coldness of the tile wall had been easing her body temperature. “Y/N, Y/N.” She repeated while bucking her hips and increased her fingers movements before reaching her climax. 

She let out a loud moan as she felt tears brim from the orgasm. A rough one. “Ugnnhhh..” She groaned pleasurably.

She released her fingers from her tight walls before staring at them painted with a clear substance.

So, this was the feminine way of self-pleasure. She approached the sink as she shivered while lifting up her drenched panties and then skirt. 

She turned on the water on hot before eyeing herself in the mirror. She looked like a mess. You did this to her, and you were going to pay the price. She walked out the bathroom: partially sexually relieved and then instantly noticed her co-workers glances.  

She shallowed in embarrassment. Had she been that loud? She found herself at her seat. Wasting no time, she packed her laptop, phone, purse and keys. She needed to get home. You just texted her that you were at the penthouse. She shuffled her belongings in her bag. She flew out of the fire escape of the office and into the air.

It didn't take her long to reach the open window of your shared bedroom. She needed to taste you, gods. Now. You were on the couch in a gray baggy tee that reached your knees, knowing you probably not wearing anything underneath as you watched a show.

Using her Amazonian speed, she ran over to you while pushing her purse on the marble counter. “Diana! I didn’t even hear you come in.” You yelped at her sudden entry while pushing the potato chip crumbs off of your lap.

She panted lightly. Finding herself again now she was eye-to-eye with you. “Y/N...” She said breathlessly. “That’s me! Is ‘sumthing wrong?” You asked with concern. '

She nodded eagerly at your sentence. “Yes. You’re what’s wrong with me.” She replied while approaching you. “Well damn, Diana. I miss you too?” You stated while staring into her lust-filled orbs. You found yourself on the floor as she hovered. “Who hurt you today?!” You laughed then yelled while attempting to push her off.

She laid herself back while ripping up your long gray shirt to see your dripping entrance. She felt waves of ecstatic filled over her body before slamming your entrance onto her mouth. You yelped pleasurably at the sudden intrusion before instinctively resting a hand on her head.

Diana began sucking on your folds that were filled with your slick. She closed her eyes while her tongue had been in heaven. The scent of your arousal had been clogging her nose. You were moaning like crazy which you always did. 

You clenched her locks while your eyes were also clutched shut as your head rolled over. Diana always wanted to taste you. Feel you. “Fuckkkkk...D-Diana, relax please.'' You muttered as you felt your orgasm approach. She let out a hum before diving her tongue deeper into your fleshy liquid-filled walls. Your thighs shook in overstimulation before squirting your release onto her tongue. 

She happily slurped everything she could spare. She soon positioned away from her face and laid you back on the carpet. She darkly grinned before walking into your shared bedroom: leaving you alone in the living room.

You were breathing heavily from such a harsh orgasm. You attempted to stand but soon you found yourself bare from Diana’s speed as she ripped off the large tee. “What the hell?!” You yelled furiously before looking over that the female brunette. Your eyes widen at she had been holding. 

She smiled as she held up a strap on. “This was custom-made by Bruce. Now, I can truly feel you..” She said with a snicker at your scared expression. “Let’s go, My dear. You’ll definitely enjoy it.” She smiled before dragging you over her shoulder and ran into the bedroom with a giggle.

In the end, Diana had made you pay the price for her embarrassment.

Literally.

ᴀ. ᴄᴜʀʀʏ

Arthur is pretty kinky himself. He was a bit more experienced than you were: his mind is far more corrupted. Masturbation ain’t really new to him. All it took was a beer and Fifty Shades of Grey. (THIS MAN IS DEFINTELY PACKING LIKE WTFF)

Like Bruce, he had taken the easy way out before, he can do it again or anytime he had too. He would’ve been a touch starved, sex addict pumping steed if you hadn’t crossed paths, but when you texted that you were out with your family, he was a bit pissed. 

He sent you to get groceries for the first time and when you went to the mall to try on something sexy for him, you happened to run into your parent(s). Of course, he would understand. Family is over all, but so was he. Right? 

He would tell you to send a mirror photo. He loved admiring your body. You did with a peace sign. He will be sending dirty messages. ‘you look 2 damn sexyyy 2 be wit ur folk(s).’ Or ‘facetime rn.’ 

He would be far from control. He needed you:

Arthur is fucking pissed off when you left fucking all blueballed. He gets so damn annoyed with you cause you both been teasing all fucking around all fucking day and, of course, when he is done with work: your folk(s) pop up and ruin the mood.

Why does bad thing happen to good people? He wouldn’t even walk properly when he walked into the shared town house. His hair dripped as he just left the ocean from saving some fishermen. He grunted in frustration as he kicked the door down, stomping like a toddler before laying back into the brown couch in the small living room.  

(HE’S PETTY)

His eyes wandered to his phone at the photo you sent. You were smiling that contagious smile that couldn’t help him but to smile himself. Your smile belonged to him and him only. 

He continued smiling as his hair dried from the towel until it decreased. A male behind you held up a thumbs up with a smirk. He furrowed his eyes at the picture.

Who the hell was there?!

The thought of someone else fucking you other than him made him see red. He glanced back at your smile: the smile that belonged to him and him alone.

Your hair was disheveled slightly as your cut ‘lil dimples showed as you smiled. He winced at the thought of you cheating. Nah: you were smarter than that. 

You had to be.  

He felt his cock erect at the sight of your smile. He let out a hum and a raised brow as his jeans tighten. He shrugged off his belt and showed his pelvis part of his pants. He saw his cock deepen the comfort of his boxers. 

He let out a chuckle before shrugging off his boxers shamelessly. You drive him crazy. He wasn’t new to self-pleasure but it had been some time since he masturbated. 

Like he had you to take off his stress on.

He saw his cock already become erected. He winced from the cool air. “Damn it, Y/N.” He muttered aggressively. How dare you go out and leave him pussymatized. He felt himself go numb while stroking through his veiny cock. 

He grunted from the friction while roughly stroking through his girth. He panted slightly before letting out a groan. He was thinking of you. Smirking at every pleasurable memory you both shared. Your erotic expressions, your fleshy walls, damn, he found himself leaking pre sperm from the thought of you.  

He let out a small grunt while leaning his head back a bit. He continually stroked his cock with small groans of pleasures. “Y/N.” He muttered as his hair was becoming disorganized from the couch's comfort. 

He needs you! Now!  

He found himself approaching his climax. Bucking his hips, he roughly thrusted his hands onto his cock with small groans. 

He increased his pace while eyeing the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. “Shittt....” He cursed through hissed teeth. 

You were the only thought on his mind. He shifted uncomfortably as his release had been close. “Y/N!” He shouted out his semen leaped out of his slit with his bucked hips.  

He finished his spurting with a grunt. He then leaned back on the couch. Sweat coated his forehead as he stared at the ceiling. He was thinking of a waysss to punish you. He heard the door open: already knowing it was you, he remained in his place on the couch.

Overstimulated with his self-pleasure, he couldn’t think correctly. “Hey Broo! My folk(s) made--”you said while approaching the living room to see his state.

You yelped out as you dropped your foiled plate that you parents gave you onto the ground. “If you don’t get over and let me fuck you. Imma go over there and do something you won’t like it.” He said as he stared at you while his long bangs were covering his still half-lidded eyes.

You found yourself get turned on with his voice alone. “Someone’s been busy.” You said while placing your bags onto the table and approached him. “You have...noooooo idea.” Arthur stated as his chest rose and then fell with his heavy breaths. You smiled before sitting on his lap. You shifted his cock between your thighs. You were sitting sideways on his lap.

Arthur loved thigh jobs. He missed the first time you both had sex and that led to a new kink. Small, big, thick or chubs. He loves thighs. You moved your thighs up and down his shaft. He let out pleasurable groans.

You smirked a bit then continuing to guide yourself around his shaft. He leaned his head back with a groan escaping his lips as a growl rumbled deeply from his chest. You grinned before stopping, leaving his cock grinding against your clothed folds.

He gritted his teeth from your sudden action.  “You got a death wish or ‘sumthing?” He asked threateningly. You giggle at his statement before mounting his legs.

You shuffled around his bulky thighs. You were gently dancing your fingers on his shoulders as you grinded yourself near his cock. He grunted when he removed the fabric blocking him from you and bucked his hips upwards for his cock to deeply enter you. 

You moan in defeat while dropping down onto him while you still laid sideways on his lap. His arms trapped you within his grip as his hands made their way to your back for support, preventing you from falling off. 

You both let out small pleasurable moans before attacking each other’s lips. You both gnawed each other attempting to dominant. You felt yourself go numb as his pace quickened. You grunted as you pushed your mouth off of his. A trail of shared salvia was formed upon your bottom lip. You looked at him who stared back with a breathless groan.

His thrusts increased into your cervix. You grunted as your eyes had almost worn out. Your body jerked with each contact and slap his skin made against yours. He felt himself approach his limit. 

He furrowed his brow as one of his hands cupped your ass and the other gripped your hair to meet his bulky lips, you muffled moans into his mouth as his tongue slipped into your mouth.  

You felt yourself go overstimulated. Your eyes were clutched shut along with his. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to dominate your carven

How in the world did he have so much energy?!

The sound of slapping increased as he began hitting your cervix harder than before. When you both felt your orgasm approach. You both parted before moaning and groaning in bliss.

You heard muffled spurting sounds as his sperm began to fill your womb. You writhed slightly from the sensation then got annoyed with his intimacy. He lifted you off his cock before placing on his thigh. 

You slapped his chest playfully as an erupting laugh comes from him. “Give me a heads up when you do crap like that.” You scolded as he shrugged playfully.

Heavy breathing and low pants came from both of you as you went into into his neck in hide the embarrassment. “Sooooo, round two?” He asked with a smirk. 

You whined in annoyance. “Giv...Give me a second, your highness'' You said as you attempted to regain strength. “Mmmmm, no.” He answered with no care. He gave your ass a smack before his cock became erected again. You let out a jolt from the stinging. 

He lifted you back onto his cock, you let out a blissful moan as you stared at him with tearful eyes. “Love ya, girly..” He said with a smile before breathlessly groaning in bliss soon after.

Goodness gracious!

With you by his side, he can take on anything but Superman..

ʙ. ᴀʟʟᴇɴ

Barry never really had a girlfriend. He was a virgin to the bone. You came in and changed that. The first time you two had done activities, you were in charge. Barry was far inexperienced to dominate you. 

You figured that out in a heartbeat. So, masturbation was slightly new to Barry. Like Clark; he had no other options. You were always there, sitting on his second favorite chair with a robe however, when you explained you happened to go to a job interview. He was happy for you! (HES PACKING BUT HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO USE IT SOMEONE HELP HIM DFJIKDJHJFIKJ)

He knew you couldn't escape him. He was the flash after-all. You stated how you wanted to help him, not only by sex and meals. He got annoyed to be separated from you. You two were always together. Now, you weren't there when he needed you most:

Barry was lonely like Clark whenever you weren’t around. He didn't have anyone. Just his father in jail. He didn’t want for you to leave his side. But it was far from teasing when you send him a photo with your hair in a sleeked bun as you wore glasses that weren't even necessary.  

Your cleavage had been showing the valley of your breast as you held up a thumbs up with a breath-taking smile. He felt himself ignite by that photo. He was jealous: wasn’t it a crime to be that damn sexy? Cause you would be in jail with his father! He smiled before feeling his lower region react to you. He looked down under his blankets to see his boner was noticeable within his jeans.

He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. He let out groans of discomfort as his cock throbbed. He wanted to get over the discomfort. He grunted and bucked his hips into the air uncomfortably. He had always been a bad sleeper.  

He kicked his legs before noticing his jeans being incurable tight. He rose a brow curiously at the sudden change. Removing the button that held his waistband together and pulling his fly down, his cock leaped out from his boxers. 

He let out a yelp in startlement cause he gets scared easily.

He shifted uncomfortably due to the tightness of his pants. Soon, he rolled his jeans down and soon boxers.

His cock had been twitching as small veins had been formed. He hesitantly let his hand out and wrapped it around his base. He arched his back with a moan while he had been feeling pure bliss.

He stroked himself roughly. Using his flash abilities: stroking through his cock incredibly fast. His hand shifted quickly throughout his cock. He grunted and let out submissive moans. His only thought was you teasing him like you always did. 

He thought of your fingers dancing across his abs as you would blindfold him while riding his cock. He furrowed his brows at the pleasurable memories you both shared. 

You were a kinky one between you both, and he was eternally grateful. He found himself restlessly stroking his cock before his orgasm approached. He felt himself buck his hips in anticipation as his body craved your dominant touch.

He felt himself go numb as his orgasm’s approached increased within his fast pace. He clutched his shut as his mouth was shamelessly agape with loud yet masculine moans escaping his dry lips that were lonely without yours. 

His head was leaned on his favorite chair’s headrest as his legs shifted slightly with jolts from the eradicating pleasure he brought upon himself.  

He felt his orgasm approach. “Y/N!” He squealed as his semen leaped out of his cock's slit while his hips were bucked along with his toes curled. He found himself on his favorite chair groggily: directly attempting to wait for you.

You were actually right there, standing with your arms crossed from your breasts as your eyes scanned his pleasurable frame. “Am I interrupting something?” You asked seductively. He let out a yelp before shuffling his boxers on. 

He hustled to his feet with his boxers on as his hair was slightly messy. It didn’t take you long to pin him to the wall, no matter how short or tall he was compared to you, you met his desperate eyes.

You started to attack his lips which he allowing, he shut his eyes deeply, slight joyful that he was at your mercy. You continued to fight with dominance until you dropped your lips off of his. 

He mentally whined without the comfort of your lips as your gaze turned to his erected cock that was hidden behind the safety of his boxers.

You smirked at the sight as Barry shut his eyes shut to ignore the embarrassment of his body. You slowly dropped his pelvis part of his boxers where his cock sprang out. 

You let another smirk caresses your features as you grow wetter at the sight of his girth. 

You look up at him who stared with despairing glint in his eyes.  “Y/N, please.” He groaned as he breathlessly writhed slightly. You rose a brow. “Please what, Barry?” You asked teasingly yet innocently.

He grunts in response cause you know what you’re doing to him. “Touch me.” He begged as his cock let out pre-cum. You grinned before dancing your delicate fingers on his swollen cock. You stroked through his girth slightly.

He let out moans as his elbows hit the wall as his hand was rolled back. You felt yourself grow more wet.

He felt you stop as you licked off the substance was oozing out of his cock's slit. “Take us to the bedroom.” You commanded with a whisper into his ear. He nodded eagerly before lifting you and using his flash speed to be in the bedroom on the bed. 

You grinned as you pushed against the mattress before teasingly undressing out of your clothes. He felt himself grow more erected at the sight of your bare body. 

You gently caressed his redden cheeks as you grinded yourself on his tip. “Baby....please. I’ve been nghhhh so...so..good!” Barry whined as he couldn't take the teasing no longer. You grinned before slamming your entrance onto his large length.

He submissively moaned as you bit your quivery lip. You prevented yourself from moaning as waves of bliss flooded your body as you bounced yourself onto Barry’s cock. 

Barry had been moaning loudly and uncontrollably as drool poured from his agape mouth to his chin. “Y/N.” He moaned lightly as you continuously bounced yourself on his cock.  

His hands went to your hips that were arched with your back as his cock deepen to explore your walls. You gritted your teeth before giving a smile at him. “Whose making you feel good, baby?” You asked teasingly as Barry's eyes were barely open. “Y-You....fuckkk..are.'' He submitted his hips bucked up to feel your walls better.

You curled your toes slightly at his action as you let out a small moan. You gritted your teeth before staring down at Barry. You comfortingly danced your fingers onto his abs. 

He let out another sharp moan until he felt his orgasm approach. “Y/N! I'm close” He pointed out as you continued to tickle his abs. He had tears prickle from overstimulation of your walls clenching.  

You increased your pace and rode him hardly and deeply. He arched his back as he leaned his head back into the pillows comfort. 

He moaned in pure bliss as his liquids spurted from his slit and empties his balls within your now drenched walls. You both came together. You both breathlessly let out pants.

You slide yourself off of his cock. You shifted a bit before falling onto his pale chest. You grunted a bit as his sperm leaked out of your drenched yet aching pussy. He laid a kiss on your tired frame. “Thank you, Y/N.” Barry said calmly as he wrapped the covers over both of your bare bodies. 

You both cuddled and chatted before falling into slumber, side by side.

ᴠ. ꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ

Victor is confused with a passion. Sure, before he used to masturbate to keep his mind eased when he was a football player. Post-fall though, every thought about you made a circuit react. He didn't know what happened. 

He thought his systems were malfunctioning, but traveling inside his head, it was just his systems reacting to your features; as if his current state had a mind of its own. If his systems enjoyed your presence, he sure did. (YALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA LEAVE HIM OUT?!)

You both been together before the accident. You were his personal-cheerleader. Now in his current state, he doesn’t allow it to prevent himself or you to feel good. When you weren’t around, its frustrating to know if you were safe:

Victor gets paranoid whenever you weren’t around. You were always inside the apartment which required you not to go anywhere. Victor lost his parents and many people in his life and he just doesn’t want to add you to the list.  

He would use any source of technology and intelligence to track or follow you. To you know... make sure your safe! It’s not stalking if it’s for a good cause! Right?... 

He felt himself at ease at your smiling face as the screen on the holo-pad Victor had your talking frame with a friend.

He felt a circuit react with excited whirrs. He stared down at his body within the hoodie. He felt the pleasurable circuits whirr more. He felt himself shake at the pleasure. He thought about you. Your smile, your body, your eyes, your dimples, and god..your beautiful face.  

He found himself lowly groaning as his metallic body had been whirring. His father did mention that he was going to see unexpected changes but this; this was something new. He let out a small groan as his systems returned with more strange robotic interactions.

He shifted a bit under his hoodie. Using his robotic eye; he scanned his systems. He rose a brow as the sudden act his systems. His robotic eye claimed the thought of you had been sending his body to overload.

He found himself pleasure as you continued to fill his mind. He stared down at the holo-pad at your smiling expression. He shifted his legs as he attempted to be cautious. He felt himself go numb. He was feeling pleasure for once after the accident. 

He was truly in love.  

He let out a small grunt as he wanted to remain focus. His vision on his eye blurred from the bliss. His systems continued to pleasure themselves. He felt himself thinking of the time you rode his thigh. 

He always loved seeing you with erotic expressions as you rode his thigh then orgasmed. He felt another circuit popped as he let out a groan.

He felt himself go slightly numb as his body shook slightly. He felt his overload approach his systems continuously did they're pleasurable acts. He licked his dry lips as his overload increased rapidly. 

He leaned his head back with a long groan as his overload spurted within his systems. He felt oil leak out of the open crevices of his robotic body.  

He fell back on the couch a bit breathlessly. You were just watching over the corner. Pleasuring yourself at the sight of his own unique way of masturbating about you. “I see you, Y/N.” He stated simply as you walked out of your hiding place with a small embarrassed grin. 

He used an extended hand to bring to close to him. You straighten your spine as the extended tentacle allowed you to approach victor.

He pulled you with his robotic hand to caress one of his thighs. “Undress.” He said quietly into your ear. You let out a breathless gasp at his seductive voice; even if robotic. You nodded swiftly before removing the clothes you had on. 

You were too eager. You were now bare in front of victor who gave a chuckle at the sight of your shivering body. He pulled you to straddle his robotic thigh.  

You shivered as your bare pussy was on cold metallic armor. You let out a breathless gasp as he grinded his thigh onto your bare clitoris that was begging to be stimulated. Victor was already feeling pleasure from his circuits reacting to your touch. 

He used his other abilities to allow his thigh to vibrate under your bare pussy that was soon leaking substances of excitement.

The vibrations had been making small noises. You let out small mewls and moans at the feeling of pleasure that your maidenhood was feeling. “Ohhhh...Victor...” You whimpered slightly that was barely a whispered. He hummed while looking at your erotic expression. 

You felt butterflies in your stomach as his husky breath was near your ear teasingly. His systems were taking in on your bare appearance.  

The way your breasts bounced from his thigh that you rode. He chuckled at your moans as your orgasm build up. He could tell when your orgasm approached due to his scanning’s. 

You were in every file within his mind. He learned from you. He studied you. He knows exactly your body operates. What it craved and what it doesn't.

He smiled as you gripped his shoulder plates with slight aggression as your orgasm approached closer. You felt your clitoris vibrating with his thigh. You released your hands off his shoulders before cupping his face. You leaned in before kissing his human side of his cheek. Then the robotic part.

He felt his systems go into overdrive from your blissful action. “Damn..” Victor murmured as he felt his systems overload. “Victor...” You muttered as you let out a long moan as your orgasm had been reached. You arched your back as your head was leaned upwards towards the ceiling as you saw stars from a rough orgasm.  

You panted harshly while you attempted to regain your strength. You felt your orgasm liquids leaked out of your entrance and onto his thigh where he let out a small satisfied hum. 

He looked at you as you looked up at him. You both shared a passionate kiss.

The rest of the night; you both shared cuddling as he used his body heater while you both watched random shows and movies off the television you encouraged him to get. You both were smiling; victor couldn’t cease it. 

You both were happy and sexually relived. Together

© tonystarksproperty

ᴄʟɪɴᴏᴍᴀɴɪᴀ | ᴊ.ʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇ

gn reader ykkkkk

disclaimer: clinomania is an excessive desire to remain in bed

ʙ.ᴡᴀɴʏᴇ

Upon finding out that you were a bed addict: Bruce is at ease. It’s a 50/50 type of adjustment. It is beneficial in some circumstances. He doesn't have to run around, chasing you around Gotham or worry about escaping.

He practically spoils you with the highest quality things for sleeping. 

A lovely custom made king sized silk sheeted with both of your favorite colors along with matching pajamas and if you act right: squishmellows.

He doesn't care that you sleep every day, he is usually in his bat-cave or risking his life somewhere, however, whenever he have may time on his side: spend time with him.

A good thing about this is that it actually convinces him into getting full 7 hours of sleep, if he’s lucky maybe even 4. 

He's touch-starved after 30+ years in working apart of Gotham as Batman so don’t just remove him and hump a pillow.

He wants you to love him, rely on him, cherish him and vice versa.

So even if sleeping in all the time won’t be an issue in the beginning of this quarrel it will be eventually. 

Now, it takes Bruce a while to be tested over his limits, as Gotham’s best; he is a very patient and studious man, it takes a while for him to get very riled up. 

So, when it is becoming an issue for Bruce, it is an issue that must be dealt with accordingly and better yet abundantly.

He just wants you to rely on him. But he can't just have you sleeping all the time. He refuses to force anything. He maybe a stalker but at least he has class and you can’t penalized him for it.

He tries his very best to keep everything consensual to the max.

As much as he would die and kill for you. He’ll respect it. Until he can no longer take it. But all he asks is for your love, not snores.

He finds it harder and that you both are drifting apart. 

When he does finally confronts you about it, you instantly spat back with the same aggression.

He then loses it all when you blame him for the clinomania. “Maybe you should start getting off your ass and do something about it instead of bitching about it in your sleep, like a fucking coward you always are.” his tone matches his rude demeanor, and that night: he slept in the bat cave.

You both end up “disagreeing.” that night. 

However, it doesn’t take long when you both are back on the same terms, you now spend more time with him (even if you hate him)

You know he means well at his heart but his words doesn’t match that energy and E+ for effort, right?

Although, the mighty Bruce Wayne is patient, caring and selfless: do not be fooled when it tests his level of patience. He plans everything through to prevent catastrophe. 

Out of all of the league; Bruce is the most coordinated

ᴄ.ᴋᴇɴᴛ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Clark is bruised. It is such an overwhelming emotion when your soulmate just gives up on you like that. Will you leave him like Lois? Will he not be able to protect you? 

Perhaps, it is his insecurities or possible PTSD corrupts his level of judgement but he refuses to even allow you out of his sight.

He walked inside your shared bedroom to find you there laying lifelessly. He used his abilities to fly you to the hospital. When you woke up, you would wake up from the light in the hospital lights. 

Rubbing your eyes, you let out mini yawns. “Where are we, Clark?” You yawned while smacking your dry lips together as you search the white hospital room with grogginess.

Clark would stand there, motionless and pale with his mouth agape from the confusion as the doctors behind him had exited the room with slight annoyance.

It wasn’t long until he pulled you to his chest and cried his eyes out, claiming how he assumed he lost you just like everything else around him he cherished. However, you had no sympathy from the man who stole you from your home.

Days turned into weeks when you were on the couch, refusing to sleep in the same room as him: he would just watch. His strength and rush of adrenaline prevent him from needing sleep, he would just watch. 

You in his ray of vision makes a wave of bliss rupture throughout his body, it was a sensation he did not wish to cease.

He didn’t have the time to worry about the world. Metropolis, not even the league when you are his purpose and his future.

He forces you out of bed, and you cannot fight the last son of Krypton, so you oblige. Gym dates, picnic’s, beach walks, restaurants even though he (and the help of Bruce) rented the place out because no one should know of your existence. 

Your friends and family had been ghosting you, the moment you had “disappeared.” 

So, there was no one else but him.

With all of this time with him, you then realized that sleeping is possible preventing you to actually know Clark. 

That maybe he wasn’t all that bad when you first met him. He catches on that you’re warming up to him.

On the contrary; chill days on the farm house, watching the television together, his arm draped around you while you lay next to him, he stares at your eyes which you notice instantly. “What?” you asked curiously, full of intrigue of his answer. 

He laughs through his nose. “It’s just good to see that now I’ve finally gotten your attention.” he smiles, after planting a quick peck on your cheek before caressing your shoulder and returns his attention to the television. 

It isn’t only the thought that makes Clark realizes what his primary purpose is: it’s all the distractions he is willing to put aside to make sure nothing will ever happened to take distract his lover from him. 

Out of all of the league; Clark is most impulsive..

ᴅ.ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Diana is obstinate. Perhaps she is maybe overthinking the disorder but it isn’t herself to blame. She isn’t so bad? You should be grateful your friends have both arms. 

So, why must you spend your days, in bed laying there when she’s there?

Most times, you’re not even sleeping. Dazing off as if you don’t wanna be there with her. “Don’t you grow bore to this game of yours?” She greets you as you were slightly awake, barely able to stand with the cup of coffee in your palm. 

She would come home from her human job, surprised to see that you are still able to even walk. “You are given night time for a reason.” Diana continues, a hand on her fancy hips are she gives you ‘the look.’

You stare back at her rather insult. “I’m given nighttime but you take it for your own intimacy..” you sneered with annoyance.

That’s how it always is.

She would come home for you to do something for your health and then that’s the last she would see you.

It’s ironic though. That you still are somewhat relying on her abilities to provide like groceries maybe even snacks.

It just doesn’t feel right, and a god surely doesn’t bite their tongues.

For now; it was time to use the voice that she was given from the gods that blessed her. “My dear, this must end. The childish acts and the foolish games of this cycle.” she says from within the doorframe of the shared bedroom in the penthouse. 

Diana is well aware you are awake. 

The door was off its hedges from the first time you were taken here.

She rounds the bed as you sit up, now realizing she is now serious. “We are lovers, are we not?” she states while you just scoff at her sentence in annoyance. “We are supposed to care and love for each other.” She continues, you look up at her with a now dropped expression.

You found this to be unentertaining. “You have truly shown that you no longer care.” Diana says, her gaze dropping as her eyes become glossy while her body shook with discomfort. 

You wince, she was crying. Fake crying. “I-I will spend more time with you,” you say as you swing your legs over the bed to embrace the now trembling woman.

You felt a coil in your stomach as you hugged your captor. The feeling was unsettling but anything to get some peace and quiet. “I will spend more time with you.” You coo reassuringly as you soothe her embrace with yours, her arms wrapped around yours in almost an instant. 

Diana was never so easily convinced.

It was wrong, but when was anyone so ever perfect? It was something that had to be done. 

A re-motivator, an eye opener is what she would call her performance the other day.

You now spend more time with her. You claimed her as your lover! Surely things will now be different, no more walking into the penthouse with a back turned to her, but rather a warm welcome. 

Diana maybe cruel, but she is no fool. It would be best for her to leave the situation alone, wait for the right timing. She is almost like Bruce, but what separates her is her pride. Diana would probably be the type of yandere to “handle” the problem in a more straight-forward way.

Out of all of the league; Diana is most manipulative.

ᴀ.ᴄᴜʀʀʏ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Arthur is crazed. He would joke and attempt to hide his anger: not wanting to scare you, but there is this uprising that is waiting to be unleased.

He is probably the least patient within the league: and not afraid to express his emotions and probably a brat sometimes but maybe some can’t handle the honest truth.

He is honestly the less strict and most laidback but to a certain extent.

When he find you sleeping the first time after he kidnapped you: its cute to him. 

He thinks you’re dream your way out of this walking nightmare of a relationship, well that's what he thought at first. 

However, that “cuteness” easily went away when you were just laying down, not even sleeping, listening to your favorite song. Not even reading a book or catching up on your series. 

You were like....a dull person with no meaning or purpose in life.

Have you always been like this? When he took saved you, did he miss a day in your life?

It doesn’t take long until he confronts you head on. Like Diana, but instead of a thought-out plan; he goes straight in, just like he always does. 

You hear his loud, wet boots echo through the wooden floors of the house and the door is wide open so he walks in. 

His body and hair dripping in water which makes you scrunch and turn your back to him. He takes a seat, not minding the mess he is leaving on the bed.

He roughly nudged you slightly, hoping to get your attention. You groan annoyingly but turn your face slightly to oblige his presence. “You gonna get out of bed or what?” Arthur asks while you gaze off into space.

You then roll your eyes, finding his presence a complete waste of time. “Hey, when are we gonna talk? Like an actual couple?” He raises his voice a bit, this time you sit up and match his aggression.

You kiss your teeth harshly. “So the type of couple that ruins lives? Teach me of how a ‘couple’ is suppose to act, Arthur.” You spat with annoyance. His nostrils flared as he clearly shows more anger within his expression. 

Now, you’ve crossed a line. “Well, why don’t you get the hell off of your ass for once and maybe I can show you that I ain’t really that bad.” He replies with a very much more pissed off look.

You then stare at him like he was insane, which he was. “Well, you haven’t really done anything to show you’re good either!” He then just seem like he was holding himself back from anything. 

You scoffed sheepishly. Who did he think he was, better yet, who did he think you were? “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hit a nerve, your highness?” You mocked groggily.

Just about you were going to lay down, a calloused hand had been wrapped around your throat, forcing you out of the comfort of the sheets and now chest-to-chest with Arthur..

A very enraged Arthur who hadn’t even realized he was hurting you. “I bust my ass providing for you and all you do is just lay around! You know how much people would kill to be you right now?!” His grip was even more tighter than it was before.

However, You weren’t even taken chances even if you were going to die, even if you could see dots when your vision blurred. At least you didn’t have to be near him. “Go be with them..then.” You managed to croak until he soften his grip, allowing you to gasp for breath.

He chuckles loudly, and pretends to think hardly. “Thought ‘bout it. Don’t wanna.” He says, his grip from your throat was gone as he keeps you in his arms.

Of course you were scared, you could feel death from him. “I chose you.” He murmured slightly, his muscular yet moist arms kept you in an embrace, while you were confused and very much scared; since the moment you got here.

Your glare deepen, not giving him the reaction he expected but that honestly turned him on a bit. Soon, a very long exhausting kiss was met between you both. Tongues wrestling with yours that caused you to painfully grip his arms in weary.

Then he dropped you onto the bed. He got up and made his way to the door. “Try sleeping that off. Call me if you want an orgasm.” he said, leaving as if nothing happened. 

Arthur maybe a douchebag but he isn’t as sinister! He just has a hard way of expressing what he wants in a romantic type way. You just know where to hit him, and it really gets under his skin. He never wanted to use anyone you love against you but, damn, he needed to go extreme.

Out of all of the league; Arthur is the most sadistic.

ʙ.ᴀʟʟᴇɴ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Barry is bothered. Not like he has a problem with it (he does). Everyone needs a little break. Surely you did too.

It’s a big adjustment. Living with a complete stranger that claims they love everything about you! So he get’s it totally. He doesn’t get that you’re just in the bed and just laying there though. 

Like a NPC in one of his video games almost. 

Barry has the tendency to overthink a lot. He claims that you’re just waiting for the right time to leave him! 

Perhaps installing that camera in the warehouse wasn’t the worst idea.

Ever since you both been together, he always seems he is coming “home” alone.

No warm welcome.

No massage.

Nothing.

He wants you to like kiss him or show affection. He doesn't want to be the only putting energy in the relationship. He felt like you were giving up. 

Like Clark he would find some things for you to do. You would go on dates. Not expensive dinners but dates. He would take you to the movies, strolls in the park, small coffee dates. Something to keep you busy

With the money Bruce gave him; he would take you on small trips. He just wanted you to spend time with him, you know. He just wants the love that he craved for what feels like forever.

Walking back into the warehouse: after a very unencouraging conversation with his father in jail, he comes back with you no where to be found. 

He sighs, not even angry or sad: just so disappointed.

He threw the groceries to the ground before stomping towards the bedroom. He isn't angry; he is just disappointed and maybe sad. “H-Hey? Maybe we can have a quick chat? If you’re not cool, I get it.” He stammers a bit, damnit why can he ever NOT be awkward.

You turn immediately yet groggily. “I think we both drifting away with each other.” Barry says, getting an intrigued look from you with a head tilt. He notices quickly and panics. “I know that I am not the best right now with the debt and everything, and I’m sorry for that.” He stammers, taking breathy gasps of breath as you notice he is becoming anxious.

He breaks eye contact to rub his glossy eyes, licking his now dry lips and continues. “I really do care and love you but I just want to-” He continues, soon interrupted with an embrace from you. 

His arms drop to his sides, unfortunately, the tears will not stop. 

You felt yourself go numb from the tears falling from his eyes. “I’ll do better.” You say, holding him more gently and it was like words in heaven.

He felt himself stop crying within your embrace before wrapping you into his arms as you cuddled for the rest of the day.  

Although Barry is the most immature, there are times when even he, the dummy of the league can become very sensitive. Maybe he is being sensitive, or maybe he cares a lot. He was always taught how to love and he just wants to help you in the best way he can.

Out of all of the league: Barry is the most gullible.

ᴠ.ꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Victor is curious. It’s not his place but shouldn’t you be out living your best life? Not wanting you to escape or anything but like you’re human! You should be out winning football games or shopping or something with your friends.  

He doesn't force you to get up cause like he’s afraid he will hurt you with his body but he does convince you to go outside. “Wanna go shopping?” or “there's a grocery store with your favorites.” He can and will hack everything that is intelligence and robotic to cheat your way through life.

He wants you to know that even with his current state: he can be slightly useful in a way. He wants you to know that there is something can be valuable to life other than just laying down in bed. 

He scans you whenever he pleases. Checking your vitals etc. He would just stare at you, you’re the only thing he had left.

Like Clark, he would watch you sleep: because what he has become, sleep is not a necessity to him. 

Your peaceful and stress-free expression as you slept your worries away. He didn't waste any time before sitting near your bed. He then scanned your body health which was up to his standards. 

He let out a small chuckle before watching you grunt. He rose a brow as his robotic eye scanned your mind. His eye widens at the stage you went through.  

That’s why you always slept in! He felt himself grow guilty from the problematic events you had to go through. Bullying, discrimination, family problems, trust issues, parental issues, dead relatives and friends etc etc.

He never felt so upset before. 

He would wake you up with your favorite food from your favorite restaurant. “Y/N,” He greets you. It was rare to see you out of the bed. Of course you would get up for food and yet again his predictions paid off again. You just do a small and sloppy wave.

He checks your vitals again, just in case you were unhealthy. “Last night, I was there when you slept,” Victor continues and you almost drop your glass. “How many times do I have to tell you to NOT watch me when I sleep!” You screech annoyingly, it was so uncomfortable to you. 

He ignored your outburst and continued, “I know what happened, your childhood. The pain, the suffering..” He said reassuringly, causing you to stare at him with mouth full. You then blink into a shocked state when you realize what he meant.

Victor walks beside you. “Please know that I’m here. You never have to do anything alone again.” He spoke while his robotic hand went to the center of this chest-plate. 

You smiled with tear-filled eyes before jumping onto his lap and hugged him. “Thank you.” You muttered, actually glad that it was all out there as he pulled you into an embrace. “You’re welcome.” He replied as his hands soothingly comforted your back.

Perhaps, Victor is a stalker, maybe curious. He will always knows with the cursed knowledge given and automatically investigates the source of the clinomania. He shows more mercy and remorse towards his S/O sleeping habits that doesn't bother him much due to him always being by their side. 

Out of all of the League; Victor is most sympathetic.

© tonystarksproperty

can u do another bruce x male reader angst

Definitely 😌 I’ve got a lot of angst in me.

Since you didn’t specify, I took it and ran with it. Anywayss Enjoy 😉😮‍💨

Soo, this is longer than I planned 🧝🏻🥹 And there’s gonna be a part 2, probably 🫣😮‍💨

Warnings of sorts: major injury, character death, diverging from canon.

Small summary: After an attack by the Joker, the bat family is thrown into an unlikable situation, unfortunate even. M/n is stuck in the hospital, barely living. And who knows what happened to the rest? Alfred won’t really talk about it.

“This is your legacy. Watch careful, love, as it all falls and burns. To the ground with your house of stone.”

They were tied together by the moon, under the stars of a clear sky, on the rooftop of the manor. A lapse in time, a glimpse of the universe. They were happy in that moment. Only them and the quiet world.

M/n recalls it being a clear sky. Yes, it had to be in order to light up Bruce’s face just so. Or maybe it was the man’s eyes, those who lit up the whole sky. Often times, M/n thinks about this and that, and everything is muddy, but the brightest memories still shine through.

That’s what makes him sure they’re real. They are too strong to be stomped down by the heaviness, too alive to dissipate.

There are days in which he feels he forgets everything, but then Alfred visits, and the memories are alive again. Painfully so.

“Master M/n,” Alfred would say, “How is your morning?” And M/n would understand it was indeed morning.

“Hello, Alfred.” Momentum, he remembers both of their names. “I see you better today.” He tries for a smile, uncertain of the success.

“That is great news, sir.” M/n can’t make out the details of Alfred’s face, but he hears the extension of a smile in his voice.

Later, they are drinking tea, the tension in M/n’s shoulders not soothed by the liquid, “Alfred, when can I come home?” Silence follows.

M/n sees the movement of Alfred placing down his cup, “Soon, sir. Probably next week, if things go well.”

“Yes, but you’ve been saying this for a while now.” He recalls in the haziness. “I reckon, if I stay here more, I’ll go crazy, Alfred. I wanna come home. I wanna see Bruce and the kids.” His voice is overwhelmed with tremors. He can’t feel his face half the time, but now he feels the stinging in his eyes.

M/n is almost startled by Alfred’s hand over his own. “Master M/n… I’ll see what I can do. I’ve been trying, remember?”

Right. He… remembers. “Thank you, Alfred.”

Later that week M/n is allowed to go home. Happiness fills him. Like fireworks on the night sky, his chest is filled with emotion.

Home.

Yes, he is finally going home.

Alfred comes to pick him up around 1 p.m. He is moved in a wheeling chair through the hospital. He can’t see all the faces around him, but the doctor and the few nurses he does see and recognize, he says goodbye to. He is happy, so he leaves them all with a smile.

In the car, Alfred tells him all about the changes around the house and the land around it. Like how the rose garden is gone —there is a momentary pang in M/n’s chest, but he doesn’t let himself be deterred by it—, or how the paintings from the hallways had been moved to a guest room now turned storage room, or how Jason moved all of his stuff back into the mansion, but he didn’t actually come around to inhabit his old room, or how Damian is now taking care of most of the affairs of the mansion and company.

“Since you’ve been gone, young master Damian has been given a lot of new responsibilities.” Alfred adds, not as an after thought, but carefully building up to it. “He should be home, at the moment, but there is always the possibility of him being away. He is leaving two weeks from now, for a conference in Vienna.”

“That’s wonderful. Such a nice place. I… Bruce took me there. Yes. A few years ago. Very nice.” M/n is sure his smile persists. How could it not? He is finally going home. To his Bruce. To his sons. To his life, after the endless time in that horrid hospital room with white walls and shadows and the buzzing of the fluorescent light above, barely perceptible.

The car parked, Alfred helps M/n up the ramp and into the foyer.

The door opens before Alfred goes for the handle. Beyond the opening door, the tired face of one Damian Wayne comes as the most welcoming sight. As soon as the boy’s —he is still the small boy M/n used to read to sleep, or sing to— eyes landed on his parent, he visibly relaxes. His stance falls into something more fitted for his age. M/n can’t see a smile on his face, but that isn’t saying much. He can’t really see much anyway, in the light. Nonetheless, even through the sting caused by daylight, M/n can’t help the unabashed happiness slipping onto his every feature. He extends his arms, wide and welcoming. And Damian falls to his knees, into his parents arms.

“Hi, dad.” The boy whispers softly.

“Hello, baby.” M/n feels tears soak his shirt. “Oh, baby. What happened, love?” The man gives Damian’s head comforting caresses.

“I just missed you.” Damian gets out through a shudder. Oh, why is his baby crying? No, he shouldn’t be crying. M/n is here now, it’s okay.

“I missed you too, honey.” Damian lowers himself until his head rests in his father’s lap. M/n’s hand still moves through Damian’s raven locks.

Damian squeezes M/n’s waist, “I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry.” His son is trembling. He must be so tired. Did he sleep well? His poor baby. M/n should’ve been here for him.

“Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for, love.” M/n feels his own eyes sting harder, but not from light.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come see you. I’m so sorry.” Damian’s voice is muffled by him being pressed against M/n.

“Hey. Hey. Honey, it’s okay. Alfred told me you’ve been working so hard. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. You’re taking care of the family. I’m so proud of you, Dami.” M/n feels a tear falling. Alfred places his warm hand on M/n’s shoulder, but he can only look at Damian’s blurry form falling apart at his feet.

“No, dad. I… I didn’t come because… I was afraid. Of what I’d see. So I used everything as an excuse to stay away. I’m sorry, dad.”

M/n’s lower lip is filled with tremors, tears glistening in his eyes, “It’s okay, it’s okay, Dami. I’m home now.”

M/n holds his son for a while, caressing him, trying to reassure him with all the love he has.

“Where are the others?” M/n asks as Damian raises to shaky feet.

Damian visibly freezes, but forcibly relaxes himself, “Well… I’m not really sure what Todd is up to, but he literally moved his stuff here, then proceeded to up and go.” The boy pauses as he moves behind M/n, wheeling him to the stairs, where there is already a built in type of elevator just for him, one you see in movies. Damian attaches the back of his wheelchair to the machine. “And father… Father doesn’t leave his room during the day, only at night, but as Batman.”

“What?” M/n stares at his son incredulously, as he is raised by the machine, Damian following closely by, walking up the stairs.

“I know Batman is doing a great job, as always. But I don’t know how father is doing. He wouldn’t talk to us.” Damian looks into his parent’s eyes pleadingly. The boy can guess that his dad doesn’t see this detail. But, still, he can’t help but want to beg for M/n to make things better, like he always did.

“I’m sorry, baby, that you had to go through this. I’ll talk to Bruce myself. Only with a bit of help.” M/n chuckles as the machine gets to the top of the stairs.

Damian’s lungs and heart finally seem to realize that M/n is home, that he isn’t alone, that maybe they can do this. Call it false hope, but it’s everything the boy can cling to.

Once at the door leading into the master bedroom, M/n looks at Damian with the intent to reassure. As if telling him ‘it’s okay, you can rest, I’ll take care of things now’. And so, he is left alone by his son, followed closely by Alfred, who also seems different all of a sudden, lighter even. He is gonna make them a nice dinner, for four, and not for one.

M/n would be lying if he says he doesn’t hesitate. Because he does hesitate. And he hates himself for that. His Bruce needs him. This is no place or time for backing away.

“Bruce?” The silence is deafening. “Are you there, honey?” He wheels himself —his arms are weak, so he finds it a tiny bit more difficult than he originally thought it would be— closer to the door. Where he places his open palm on the hard oaken door. There is no answer from the other side, but M/n isn’t known for giving up easily. It’s how him and Bruce got together, then married. He knows when to push and he knows when Bruce is keeping himself from his own happiness.

“Bruce, I’m home now. You can open the door.” M/n says a bit louder. And this time he is startled by the sound of hurried steps and crashing from beyond the door.

The door opens before he can say anything.

And his Bruce is there. He looks tired, and his features are clearer because in the manor there is darkness. And M/n sees how much Damian is becoming more and more like his father, for Bruce falls to his knees in front of him, hands grabbing at his face and hair, cupping his cheeks in hurried strokes. M/n believes the tears that fall from Bruce’s eyes and onto his blotchy cheeks. He doesn’t know how many times he’s seen Bruce cry before. It hasn’t been much, but there were plenty times to know that M/n’s husband doesn’t trust people with his tears and his pain. And most of the time, he doesn’t even trust himself with it. It pains M/n to see the man he loves in pain, so he ends up placing his hands over his darling’s hands, keeping them on his cheeks.

“… M/n” His husband’s voice is coarse, unused.

“Bruce.” M/n says his name, to ground Bruce with his own voice. “What happened to you, my Bruce?”

Bruce doesn’t say anything at first, but after long seconds, there are those same two words that came out of his son’s mouth, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, love.” He has never seen Bruce like this. This broken. Falling apart. What happened? Where are Dick and Tim? Nobody said anything about them yet. What were his memories trying to keep away from him? M/n really needs to know. “I can’t remember what happened that well. Please, tell me what happened, my Bruce.” M/n squeezes Bruce’s hands into his own and brings them to his lap.

M/n is afraid of the unknown. What is he missing? Why is everyone so down? Why was he in the hospital for weeks on end?

“What did you do, love? Why are you upset?” Bruce raises to his feet, slowly and weak, and M/n has never seen him like this. Bruce goes behind him and wheels him into their bedroom.

Bruce lifts him up with care. Closer to his face, M/n can see his expression better and it hurts him to see his husband in this pain. Bruce places him on the bed, with soft movements and soft touches.

“Talk to me, Bruce.” M/n cups Bruce’s cheeks in his palms when the man sits next to him on the bed.

“No, no, I can’t, M/n, I can’t, no.” Bruce shakes his head. M/n can’t help but feel out of balance, out of place, out of touch. He has never seen his husband this startled. They’ve had moments in which they’ve shared their fears and problems and what not. But M/n has never seen his Bruce this shaken up.

“Come on. Talk to me, Bruce.” He presses on.

“I.. Oh god…” Bruce whispers through a clenched jaw.

“Love, please…” There is desperation in M/n’s voice.

“God… God, how, how can I tell you? How can I possibly tell you?” Bruce puts a distance between them as he rises from the bed. Covering his face, he blocks away M/n’s view of his expression.

“Bruce? Bruce… Bruce!” M/n raises his voice, feeling his tongue become numb and surplus in his mouth.

“Ah, I, I…” Bruce takes a deep breath looking at the ceiling, “Di…” His voice fades. “Dick and Tim,” M/n fees the air become stale around him, and the constant pressure in his chest that never seems to go away increases. Breathing suddenly becomes harder and there is the faint feeling of suffocation. “They are gone. Because of me. I …killed them.”

And that suffocating feeling is back tenfold.

The world is swimming around them and he can feel it all flowing beyond the ground, and he is falling too, into his own hell. He doesn’t know where he is anymore, but his body is too small for him and his heart is so big and so loud it breaks at his thoracic cavity. His lungs aren’t big enough, however, cowering before his beating, pumping heart, smaller and smaller by the second. There isn’t enough air. There will never be enough air. This is how he is dying. He wants to die. He wants to die now, to disappear.

He hears screaming. After long seconds it becomes obvious it is him who is screaming, clawing at his throat, eyes hurting with tears that burn him to the core. He scratches his throat like he wants to get out of his own skin. And if he were any more conscious, he would now exactly how to kill himself in that moment. The words keep repeating in his head, however, in an endless loop that wants to keep him there, caged in his disbelief.

He must’ve passed out.

Because, when he wakes up, he is in the rose garden, somehow.

The end is here, my dear

"𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺."

“There’s no use in hiding now.” M/n turns around, looking at his husband hurting. “There is no use anymore, Bruce. Just say it.”

Bruce can’t comprehend what is happening.

He supposes it is his fault. It’s always him, but… How has it gotten to this? How did they come to this point?

“Say it, damn it!” M/n turns back to his husband with tears glistening in his eyes. His voice is strong, but Bruce recognizes the grief in his partner’s voice. M/n takes hurried steps towards him. They are in their bedroom. The lights are low. Night has fallen too long ago. They aren’t dressed for bed however. Bruce doesn’t think he can prepare for it. M/n falls to his knees in front of the man he sees as his best friend, his partner in crime, the only one. Bruce is sitting on the edge of the bed. He catches M/n’s hands in his. “Please… Please, just do it. Because I can’t anymore…” M/n’s voice is cracked by something close to resignation.

Bruce’s head falls. He looks at their hands held close together and sighs. “What do you want me to say, M/n?”

M/n lets out a weak, humorless laugh, then pulls at his husband’s hands, “Look at me.” Bruce doesn’t look. “Look at me!” Bruce’s head snaps up in delay. There is rage in usually crystal clear eyes. There is pain. There is disbelief.

“I’m sorry—“

“What are you sorry for? What are you sorry for, Bruce? For asking me to stay? For getting me to stay? For marrying me? For giving me the family I could never dream about? Or for taking it all way?” More ironic laughter escapes M/n. “What are you sorry for, darling?” He says the last part through a sob. As if it hurts him to speak it.

Bruce can’t look into his husband’s eyes anymore.

M/n should’ve expected it. Bruce knows he should’ve expected it too. After all, he is Bruce self-destructive self-deprecating self-hating self-flagellating Wayne.

The divorce papers stand pristine on the bedside table. On the ground, the broken, lightless lamp of their life has shouted its last goodnight, in the warm embrace of their tainted shadows.

This is so Bruce Wayne coded ♡

*takes you on a shopping spree so I can rub your pussy and edge you in every single change room*

@hanasnx that last sentence inspired me to write this up real quick :)

You and Bruce had an arrangement—he’d pay for your manicures if he got to pick how they looked.

Before you, he’d never really cared that much about what his partners wore or how they groomed themselves; if they looked nice, that was what mattered. But you…oh, things were different with you. He liked picking things out for you whether it be clothes, shoes, or hair accessories. You were his pretty little doll that he got to dress up right down to the nails on your fingers. He’d picked out several sets so far:

French tips that looked so utterly gorgeous as your tiny hand stroked up and down his shaft.

Blush pink that matched the pretty little flush blooming on your cheeks every time he sucked on your neck or nipped at your breast or licked at your clit.

Wine red polish that contrasted so beautifully with the white lace set he’d bought you, standing out like blood on snow.

Sparkles with bow charms that matched the satin ribbons you’d tie in your hair, only to be ruined when he yanked your head back as he took you from behind.

This week’s set was an autumnal brown, the same color as the coffee he’d sucked off your bottom lip that morning. You’d let out a pretty little gasp—as you always did—which led to him wanting to pull even more noises out of you….

Which led him to now.

You were in bed in his lap, back to his chest as he thrust up into you, the two of you facing the mirror on his bedroom wall. One of his hands was on your hip and the other on your neck, lightly gripping it just enough to send you into that fuzzy, foggy mindset you sometimes liked to slip into.

“Shh,” he cooed when he gave you a particularly hard thrust and you let out a high pitched whine, squeezing your eyes shut. “Eyes open, sweetheart. Don’t wanna miss how pretty you look.”

“I can’t, I—”

“Yes you can.” He punctuated his statement by dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

“Bruce,” you mewled. He knew what that meant. You were right there, right on the edge.

“Fall apart for me, sweet thing,” he murmured. He brought his thumb to flick against your clit and you arched your back with a keen as you fell over the edge. “That’s it—clench around me just like that—good girl, good girl,” he groaned, spilling inside of you as he reached his own climax.

A few minutes later you were relaxed in Bruce’s muscled arms, completely blissed out, as he sat leaning back against the headboard of his king-sized bed.

Bruce’s eye caught on your hand and he clicked his tongue as he lifted it to examine your nails. The polish was chipping around the edges and there was a gap near your cuticles where the nail was beginning to grow. “Looks like it’s time for another trip to the nail salon.”

With sleepy doe eyes you followed his gaze. “Mmm. What kind should I get this time?” Your voice was still breathy and light with the afterglow of reaching your peak.

“What about the ones you got a couple months ago?” He ran his thumb over your knuckles. His hand practically swallowed yours. “They looked…pearly, a little sharp.”

“The pearl chrome ones?” you clarified.

“Were they oval?”

“Almond.”

“Whatever. Yes, those. I’ll set up an appointment for you tomorrow.”

You giggled. “Tomorrow it is.”

Bruce pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was glad to request those again because he remembered those quite fondly—he was pretty sure he could still feel the marks on his skin from when you’d raked them down his back as he drove into you.

That and, well, they would look very nice paired with the engagement ring he’d bought you.

I feel like Bruce would be the type to pay for your manicure/pedicure but would want to be the one to pick the color/style

okay this is cute asf. like down to the little decorations at the top n bottom are you kidding me?? this eats i love this so much.

and yea bruce would, and it’s all in good taste. you prolly asked him what his favorite looks were (you had to explain to him what the shapes and styles are called) and when he gives you the money this time, you look at him waiting for him to tell you what he wants. and he’s like, “hm.. that one you did a couple months ago. they looked pearly, a little sharp.” and you know exactlyyy what he’s talking about bcos those were the ones you used to tear into his back

𝔹𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕚'𝕤 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘

Joel Miller

Types of Kisses

Joel soothes your insecurities

Joel comforts you when you’re sick

Joel makes it up to you when you’re jealous

Useless Part 1, Part 2 coming soon!

Kisses After Midnight

Tainted Prayers Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

Bruce Wayne

Bruce picks out your nails