#bale!bruce wayne x reader

[allysunny]

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 x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[remuslovebot]

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.

#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #chrisitan bale batman #Batman #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #the dark night x reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #dc comics #christian bale fluff #christian bale x reader

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Burning Touch ♠︎

Bale!Bruce Wayne x reader

A/N: MORE BALE!BRUCE 🥳 I adore possessive Bruce, especially Christian's! So, have this treat for the weekend <3 Enjoy!

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: NSFW content. proceed with caution. cunnilingus, It's so filthy, and it's literally just Bruce eating pussy, he's a lil insecure in this one, and feral.

Word count: 3.2k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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The chilly November air of Gotham city nipped at your cheeks, turning them a rosy shade. The cold wind was blowing on your face, making a few tears burn in your eyes.

Gotham was its usual grey and gloomy self, but the low temperature made it bearable. This kind of weather wasn't unusual for this time of year, after all. Snowflakes would cascade from the heavy clouds soon, coating the dark city in a powdery blanket. The long-awaited holiday season had yet to come, but snow would always awake that cozy and warm feeling in your chest.

Your arm was hooked into Bruce's as you two walked through the moderately bustling streets of Gotham. The two of you had decided to take a walk, not a regular occasion, but when it did happen it was lovely. Bruce had never been one to go outside for fun, the fact that there always were paparazzi hiding somewhere didn't really contribute to his lacking enthusiasm.

He did it for you, to spend time with you. The way you were all cuddled up in your huge scarf and winter coat always coaxed a smile onto his face. Your excited smile as you went on about whatever came to mind perfectly extenuated your red cheeks, the unforgiving cold stinging on your delicate skin. Little did he know you had similar thoughts about him. His adoring eyes as he listened to your ever on going rambling, and his hair that sat so perfectly, even on a day like this. The long wool coat he wore made him look incredible handsome and put together.

Well, he always looked handsome and put together, but there was something so uniquely different about that damn coat.

You'd told a really bad joke, but he still laughed, his head thrown back as that wonderful symphony reached your ears. Occasionally, a stray strand of hair would fall into his face, but he'd just blow it away without a care in the world. The center of his universe was right in front of him. Why would he care about something as unimportant as that?

"We should head home. I'm about to turn into a popsicle." You laughed, it was airy, your breath forming a little cloud in the cold air.

"Well, Honey, you'd be a very, very delicious popsicle." Bruce smirked, turning his head towards you.

"Oh, stop, you!" You playfully hit his arm as a pout settled on your lips. You really hoped he couldn't see the blush on your cheeks through the redness the cold painted on your face. If he knew he could still fluster you after all this time together, he would use it against you as much as he could. And all of it would be for his amusement and his amusement alone. He'd tease you relentlessly, and maybe you enjoyed it just a little bit more than you should.

"I'm serious! I'm freezing my ass off." You huffed, a slight tremble to your tone from the cold. His arm unhooked itself from yours, and it trailed down your lowerback, all the way to your ass before giving it a squeeze.

"Still there, sweetheart, you don't need to worry." He looked like the cheshire cat with that huge grin on his face. You squealed at the unexpected touch and smacked his hand away. "Bruce Thomas Wayne!" You scolded, your brows scrunching together.

"I'm just keeping you warm, Honey." Bruce snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you against his side before pressing a kiss to your temple. You could feel his smirk against your hairline as he kissed you, and you had to admit it made you smile.

"You're lucky I love you." Grumbling quietly, you let him pull you into his embrace. You were cold, and he was warm. It was a no-brainer, really. Well, you also loved him dearly, which made his embrace twice as warm.

"I'm very lucky indeed." He said with a small smile, littering more kisses along your temple. You giggled as his action, pressing your face closer to his coat covered side. His heart felt full. It never had before, no matter how many new dates he took to galas or how many new cars and expensive watches he bought.

Not even Rachel had made him feel like this. Only you did, only you could. He would cherish you and the way you made his heart beat faster, the smile that would creep onto his face whenever you entered the room and a subtle heat rose to his face, until it all came crashing down. He swore it. He swore himself, and he swore you, and he'd do everything in his power to keep that promise.

You continued your path through the city, getting closer and closer to a much needed hot shower and a hot beverage of your choice. It would probably end up being Alfred's hot chocolate. You don't know what he puts in there, but god, it's good. You were just telling Bruce some gossip from this month's book club, which you attended with Alfred and Selena.

Although the latter of your friends was very hesitant and not at all fond of the idea, she enjoyed the time after discussing the books, which she'd never read anyway. You didn't see each other much, so catching up during a cozy afternoon was always a nice experience. Not to mention Alfred's cookies had your fellow book clubers, who were mostly middle-aged women, absolutely swooning.

"You won't believe which book Carol recommended we read next."

He raised an eyebrow glancing over at you. "And what book is that?"

"The fucking Bible." You replied, slightly shaking your head.

"The.. Bible? I doubt she could finish that in a month." He grinned, making you laugh. You went on about all the gossip about their grown-up children, who quit which job and others, which relationship. It was quite entertaining, actually. It was also the only reason Selena put up with the bookclub idea in the first place.

By this point, she was more excited to go than you and Alfred were. Bruce listened to all the stories that had been exchanged during this months meet. He would gently guide you around street lanterns and people as you were too captivated in your storytelling to notice.

He wondered sometimes, did he make your heart feel as full as you made his? He didn't want to doubt you, or your love, but he couldn't help the dark thoughts that would worm their way into his brain in the late evenings. He couldn't help the deep, dull ache of jealousy and insecurity that pounded in his heart when you would talk to other men. Bruce knew you would never break his trust and love like that, but it just felt so.. wrong. Wrong when you would smile at the barista at your favorite coffee shop and that idiot would smile back, or even worse, start small talk while he was right beside you.

At Galas and charity events, he'd hold you especially close. What if you found someone who was richer? Better looking? Someone who was more charming than he was? Bruce was an expert at hiding his feelings, so events were no different for him.

He'd laugh along and smile as you talked with some handsome billionaire, who was already undressing you with his gaze. He always felt uneasy around men like that. What if you left him? He was shocked at how insecure he really felt when it came to you, but he never had something like this before, something real.

Everyone always left him, what if you weren't any different? What if you would leave, just like everyone else had?

Bruce quickly caught sight of a tall, well built buisness man coming your way. He was on the phone, very entranced in the conversation, as were you. Before Bruce could pull you aside, you collided with the man, making you grunt has the air was knocked from your lungs. "I'm so sorry, Miss," he bent down to pick up his phone, which he had dropped at the impact, "are you alright?"

"I am, don't worry. It happens." You smiled with a little chuckle. The man, who was way too close to you for Bruce's liking, touched your arm and bid you a farewell with a very charming smile.

You went on your way, but Bruce was a little absent from that point. He tried catching everything you told him, but he couldn't stop thinking about how that guy had touched you. He had just touched you, who does he think he is? First, he's careless and bumps into you and then he touches you? He could feel a mix of emotions bubbling in his veins.

First, there was Rage. The hot, red anger of that fool putting his hands on you. Even if it was an objectively nice and innocent gesture, it made his blood boil. And then there was it again, that strange, fizzy feeling of insecurity. Would that small touch and exchange of words be enough for you to leave him? Was he good enough for you? Was he doing this right? He had no answers to any of these questions, and they were bouncing around in the inside of his head, pounding against his skull.

"Bruce, my love, are you alright?" You brows were pulled together in concern. You'd noticed that he was in his head, barely listening to what you were saying. He'd slightly stiffened and sped up his pace as well. "Hm?" He snapped his head towards you. It took him a second to process what you had asked.

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He forced a small smile, but you could see through that immediately. He'd forget that you were in a relationship sometimes, being completely vulnerable around each other. There was no way you'd fall for his little number. He cleared his throat. "Let's get home, shall we?" He hastily pulled you along, resulting in you stumbling behind him.

Once you were back at the Manor, you sighed in relief at the warmth that eveneloped you. You rubbed your hands together, hoping they'd warm up quickly. Bruce was still acting strange, a stoic expression and he hadn't said anything on the way back. You couldn't even get your shoes off before he was dragging you up the marble staircase, quickly finding the way to your shared bedroom.

"Honey? What's going on- mh!" You were interrupted by your lover turning around and smashing his lips to yours, probably to shut you up, cupping your cheeks in the process. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands again and reached the bedroom with a very confused and flustered you in tow.

Locking the door behind him, he was on you immediately. Groping and kneading at your body, although you were still in your full outside attire, pushing you back on the bed. His kiss was hungry and desperate, he was practically devouring you. You fell back onto the bed as Bruce crawled on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"What- what's gotten into you?" You managed to ask between kisses, your breathing already heavy. "Need you." Was all he responded, mumbling the words against your lips. His hands which had previously rested on your waist slid down to your hips, over your thighs and calves until he reached your boots which he quickly made work of, making them hit the floor with a thud.

Your coat was next, being thrown across the room, same with your scarf, which then joined your coat on he floor. Bruce sucked and nibbled on your jaw as he eagerly pushed your top over your head, exposing your bra. He groaned at the sight, the vibration making your lips tingle. It wasn't a rare occurrence to see him like this, but usually, you'd know what caused this behavior. But today, you were clueless.

Not that you weren't enjoying it. It was an absolute sight to see Bruce like this. How this well-mannered, calm, and patient man lost his self-control so quickly when it came to you managed to ruin your panties every single time. He placed one of his hands on your back, making you lean slightly forward before he expertly unhooked your bra with one hand. Your soft tits spilled from their confinement, and you moaned softly as the cool air of the room hit your skin.

Bruce trailed his kisses down your neck and over your chest, but they weren't as slow and precise as usual. They were sloppy and rushed, it was like he was trying to reach as much skin as fast as possible. A few gentle sucks to your hardened nipples had your breath catching in your throat, but before you could say or do anything in response he had already moved on, hooking his fingers in your skirt and tights, quickly pushing them down your hips.

He slid off the bed, sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your plush thighs to pull you to the edge. "We have all the time in the world, no need to rush things," you breathed heavily, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

"No." He growled, already at work to bite and suck marks into the supple skin of your thighs. Your head fell back at the sensation and you groaned. He looked so fucking good on his knees. Bruce was almost feral, groaning and grunting as his mouth tasted more and more of your skin. Finally, he turned his attention to your soaked pussy.

He stroked over the wet spot on your panties, licking his lips when one of those sweet moans fell from you. Kissing your ruined underwear, he gently caressed your thighs, soothing the bruises he had left. The sound of fabric ripping made your head snap forward, looking at your lover with an alarmed expression. Bruce was in a different world. His pupils were dilated and his chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths as he looked at your glistening cunt. It dawned on you once the cold air it your sopping slit. He had ripped your panties off of you.

"Honey, those were new-" you were cut off, yet again, as he dove in, licking at your folds. A high pitched moan ripped from your throat and you were gripping the sheets so tight there'd surely be holes in them by dawn. Bruce hummed in delight at your taste, his arms tightly wrapped around your thighs whil his hands were splayed out on your tummy, keeping you still as he devoured you.

Goosebumps were rising on your soft skin. The room was cold and you laid bare, making the sensation of his warm mouth on your pussy overwhelming. The scratchy fabric of his wool coat rubbed against your calves, reminding you that he was still fully clothed. A dull ache of arousal shoot into your tummy at the thought of him being so eager to have you, taste you, that he didn't even have the patience to undress himself.

He laped at you, drinking in all you were giving him. The lewd, wet sounds echoed through the quiet room, accompanied by your beautiful moans. All of your nerve endings were on fire, his touch almost burning as he kneaded at your body.

"Oh, Fuck- Bruce, oh my God-!" You whined and moaned once he circled his tongue around your clit. Your blood was boiling, almost as if hot lava was flowing in your veins. He pulled away for air with a gentle kiss to your bundle of nerves. The sight made your cunt squeeze around nothing. His hair was messy, your slick was dripping down his chin, he was heaving, the breaths sitting heavy on his chest.

A light layer of sweat covered his forehead, from both the warmth of his winter clothes and the burning pleasure he got from fucking you with his tongue. His beautiful brown eyes were almost black, his pupils swallowing his irises whole as he looked up at you.

"You're mine, right?" He asked, with such vulnerability and softness that your brows furrowed. That question caught you off guard, frankly. "W-What?" Your mind was hazy, your otherworldly bliss having been ripped from under your nose.

"Tell me you're mine. Please, sweetheart." He continued slowly licking at your cunt again, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Tell me you're mine." This time, it was more a demand, a hard tone to his voice. His cold gaze pierced through you, but there was an underlying look of pleading, like he was begging you to assure him you were his with his eyes alone.

"Tell me." It was a desperate plea, the raw emotion was something you'd seen rarely. You didn't know what to think, the jump between emotions and his demeanor couldn't cut through the thick fog of pleasure hanging over your mind. In a rough manner, his hands settled on your thighs, prying them open.

His tongue was back on your clit with small licks and kisses before wrapping his lips around it and suckling. The sensation made pleasure shoot up your spine, your eyes widening and your mouth was slightly agape, breathy whimpers and moans left your lips while your back arched off the bed.

"Shit- Yes, yes I'm yours! Jus' yours.." it came off your lips as a drawl, a slurry of words as ecstasy gnawed its way into your brain. The grip he had on your thighs tightened, his nails digging into your delicate skin. A delicious feeling of the subtle pain seeping into the pleasure you were experiencing coaxed another string of moans from your lips.

"Good." He said it so lowly, it was unlike anything you'd ever heard come out of his mouth. It vibrated in his chest and throat, and in succession against your sensitive pussy as well. You were so close, the mere touch of a feather could tip you over the edge.

"B-Bruce.." You panted, his name was forced out of your throat as best as you could. Your hands were gripping at his hair by now, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him closer. He knew you were impossibly close, he hungered for you to fall apart on his tongue and only think of him. Bruce buried his face even deeper between your thighs, finally snapping that thin rope that was keeping you from earth shattering bliss.

You came with a cry of his name, your thighs quivering. Your breathing was fast and uneven and your mouth was dry. The movements of his tongue slowed and became gentler as he helped you through your high. He slowly kissed his way up your body before finally capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

"Did you get all of it out of your system now?" You laughed breathlessly while a small smirk settled on his lips.

"I'm not so sure, actually."

"Oh, give me a break!" You whined as he pulled you close to his chest with a chuckle. It was kind of odd, seeing as you were completely nude, and he looked like he was ready to go out.

"Are you okay? I wasn't too rough, was I?" He inquired gently, pressing kisses to your head.

"No, no, it was really good." You smiled, resting your head against him with a sigh. You were burning up, your skin shinning with sweat.

"At least I'm not cold anymore." You glanced up at him with a smirk and one of those signature Bruce Wayne grins crept onto his face.

"Told you I'd keep you warm, Baby."

🌬●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●🩵●●●●●●●●●●●●●●🌬

There's more of our favorite playboy to come very soon!~ 🐝

#bumblebeesfromvenus #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne smut #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #the dark knigth rises #dark knight #the dark knight #christian bale #bruce wayne x reader

[g1rlken]

Hi hi! For the prompts can you do 10 and 14 with Christian bales Bruce Wayne?

Prompt: chaotic married life w kids + domestic fluff

Words: 2k

Thank you sm for this req it’s so cute

-

Marriage tends to change people is a superficial analysis of growing together but children sure do change routines. Especially morning routines where chaos is an understatement. Raising a child requires a village but for twins a whole army might just suffice. Vincent and William. A very pleasant blessing of two little boys in the Wayne household. However Bruce and y/n were subjected to consider just how much of peace was the cost of that blessing.

Their twins were such serene babies, toddler phase was a transition to literal devils during grade school. Getting them to do home work, go to school, eat the greens, not unleash hell…such difficult tasks.

Today like every other school morning, the parents had divided to bathe the twins in different bathrooms. When they were much younger and playful as babies bathing them in the giant bathtub where they’d just play with soap bubbles and those Amazon find bath toys was a cute activity. Nowadays, on Sundays sometimes they’d just hose them down in the garden and call it a day. It was so much more convenient for the parents and even the twins who absolutely despised bathing. Y/n bathed the older twin Vincent in the bathroom which was upstairs, Bruce downstairs with William who was a bad influence of his brother to not bathe and Alfred preparing breakfast and lunch boxes.

“Bruce!” Y/n voice shrieked from upstairs followed by a whiny cry from Vincent and he rushed to inquire, finding his wife looking for the sink holding her eyes shut.

“What happened here…?” Bruce asked as stepped inside and was immediately attacked by a plastic bottle Vincent could get his hands on as he moved frantically in the bathtub. Bruce dodged it with dad reflex thankfully.

“There’s shampoo in our eyes” Y/n briefed him and pointed at their son to go help him given she could assist herself with the sink water.

Vincent was just moving frantically in the shallow bath water shaking his head and hands splashing the water “Do something!” The boy demanded with a shrill cry.

“ Vin, calm down” Bruce urged as he bent on his knees to the bath level and held some of the running water in his hands to pour into his shampoo hurting eyes but he’d just squeezed them shut. “Open your eyes”

“I can’t! They hurt!” The boy whined and splashed the water very disruptively it went all over Bruce’s face.

“Breathe, you’re alright just breathe…open your eyes.” Bruce soothed anyways as he helped Vincent soothe the hurt by sprinkling cleaner water again, “why were you shampooing him anyways? We literally have school in an hour”

“I wasn’t but someone keeps on changing the bottles with soap and shampoo again and again” Y/n replied scoffing in obviousness as she air dried her eyes, it was Bruce who colour coded them like that in a different set of bottle at each refill. Washing hair of a seven year old who will fight a literal battle to resist it, will most definitely end up in a painful situation as such.

“It is literally so simple, white for soap and off white for shampoo” Bruce accounted for his way of arrangement as he dabbed his son’s eyes with towel, soothing his cries.

“We don’t have time to go into that discourse I’ll go pack lunch” Y/n said as she hurriedly wiped her own eyes.

“Oh Alfred’s on it…” Bruce informed her casually as Vincent’s eyes were normal again he opened them with a heavy sigh.

“Oh man I’m never using shampoo again.” The boy said dramatically and received a disapproving shake of head from his dad.

“Wait then who’s with Will?” Y/n asked about their younger twin William, whose morning crankiness were much worse.

“Uh” Bruce paused realising he’d not considered that as he’d rushed to his wife’s call for help “He was brushing his teeth”

“Alright he’s most definitely asleep again.” She sighed composing herself, leaving Vincent to get out of bath and dressed for his dad she rushed downstairs. As expected, William was fast asleep on the marble sink leaning against the wall with his legs dangling down the sink, ever since the kids learned to climb places no surface was unreachable. “Willy!” Y/n exclaimed as she carried him down the sink “William wake up come on we’ve to go to school!” She exclaimed and brushed his teeth for him hurriedly as he mumbled something about not wanting to go.

“I don’t want to…” will whined still half asleep not wanting to go because he still wanted to sleep. During vacations it was difficult to put him down to bed just absolute monkey activities all day long jumping here to there and during school days he couldn’t be bothered to brush his teeth even.

William tried to have a one sided debate about why he shouldn’t have to go to school and was eventually fully awake, much to y/n’s demise now she couldn’t manhandle and carry her son to brush his teeth and bath because now he was ready to have full sassy conversations. “You know I’m not getting in that right?” He said to his mum and gave the filling bathtub a disgusting look.

“We literally don’t have time for this please don’t bring-“ his mum started sighing as she foresaw the upcoming torment.

“What?” William said exaggerating his obviousness “I won’t be clean with gutter water”

“It’s not guttter water!” She tried to , despite being on the clock “Don’t believe everything you hear in school” she bent to her knees to match his eye level and try to convince him better “you know no ones want to sit with the kid who hasn’t bathed in 24 hours?”

“But didn’t you say people should like each other for who they are and their kindness and not what they dress and look like” Will responded smugly crossing his arms at his mum, well aware he was winning this debate so far.

Taking a deep breath to subside her annoyance of her own words biting her back, “No, that was for when you wanted to wear your ducky hat and those big kids made fun of you. Not for hygiene.”

“I don’t even know what that word means so…” he trailed off with a pout of correctness.

“Look, we’re going to be really late can you please cooperate.”

“I am awake, I brushed my teeth and I am talking to you that is enough operation on my part” William reasoned with his mom with a shrug.

“It’s cooperation.” She corrected him.

“It’s the same thing” William answered offering her mom a smile of encouragement, as if she did not know the word.

“No it’s not.” Y/n replied before she could continue Bruce’s knock on the open door averted their attention.

“He’s still not ready?” Bruce exclaimed in urgency.

“Vin?” Y/n asked about the status of the other twin as Bruce nodded and briefed her that he was with Alfred. Joint breakfast plus lunch box duties. Bruce stepped inside because clearly with his wife on his son’s eye level trying to convince him to shower seemed like she needed help.

“I literally don’t even have to go to school!” William exclaimed “I know each and every animal and I know that that water comes from sewage!” He said pointing to the bath water.

“For the hundredth time will, it doesn’t come from the sewage!” Bruce interjected with a sigh. “It’s very clean”

“So I can drink it?” William proposed raising brows at his parents.

“No” Y/n replied almost instantly, William was very fast to react she was worried he might actually try something “No you can’t drink it.”

“Why?” William demanded an answer with the hopes of his parents getting trapped in their own initial proponent that the water was not from sewage.

“Look I’m going to count to three if you don’t get in-“ Y/n began, as they were really on the clock she couldn’t reason ever so rationally.

“Hey hey no” Bruce interrupted his wife shaking his head, “We don’t do that, don’t threaten him. We have a civil conversation.”

“I’m not threatening him woah” she replied with a huff at his accusation.

“Count to three and what? Splash him?” Bruce asked somewhat wanting to have stern yet hostile approach to the kid.

“—Of course!”

“But I only have to bath if I have to go to school wight?” William enquired mispronouncing right for wight “what if I don’t? Can’t I just be homeschooled?! Dada was homeschooled.”

“Exactly, dada was homeschooled and he’s now a grown up who has no friends.” Y/n explained it to him rather unapologetically but not in a poking way to Bruce . “Do you want to be like that?”

“No that’s not true I have friends” Bruce jumped to his defence somewhat taken aback how casually his wife threw that one in, despite an apologetic smile she offered him.

“Name your two best friends then.” William investigated as he looked up at his dad with an anticipated look.

Bruce paused for a moment as he thought about it, he looked serious which made y/n wonder if he had any friends she hadn’t known of this entire time. His face seemed like he was trying to pick between his ever so large group of friends but he began, “Y/n and..” he trailed off thinking again but William had gotten his answer.

“Okay I understand now.” William said looking his mom, both of them shared a small laugh which Bruce didn’t exactly get on but at least William agreed to get in the bath.

-

Leaving Bruce to dress the boy y/n rushed outside to help Alfred with breakfast and lunch boxes, “hey hey hey” she rushed over to Alfred, where Vincent was clinging to the old man as piggy back. A very concerning sight given, not that he would fall but Alfred was rather old. “Get down from there!”

“It’s alright Miss Wayne.” Alfred said with a smile as Vincent just laughed getting favoured against his mum’s demand.

“No it’s not.” She shook her head carrying Vincent off of him and placed him on the dinning table chair, “They’re both getting way too heavy to carry.”

“I just can’t refuse them.” Alfred laughed a small laugh as he set the plates for breakfast.

“Well you should” Y/n said hurriedly as she rummaged through the cabinets to get the lunch boxes out, by then Bruce returned with a towel over will’s head. Once he sat him on the chair he rubbed his drenched hair hastily.

“No not my hair!” Vincent flinched with a scowl on his face when Bruce attempted to dry his hair as well.

“We’re late Vin, come on” Bruce refused to give into the whining at this point and dried Vincent’s hair anyways. He walked across the kitchen to help y/n reaching for the lunch box on the top shelf as she prepared one of those.

“Late?” Alfred asked as he registered the sentence “Late for what? It’s Sunday.”

“It’s Sunday today?!” Y/n asked as she turned around and her eyes winded.

“Yes.” Alfred nodded positively as he pointed to the calendar.

The parents just sighed relaxing their shoulders in regret, “wow” y/n chuckled softly as Bruce joined along comprehending his regret with the humour of it as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I did not just bathe both of them on a Sunday.” She laughed as Bruce brought her into a side hug.

“You?” He raised a brow looking down at her.

“We” she corrected herself with a smile as she gave him with a soft peck on the lips.

#bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #christian bale #christian bale x reader #Christian bale batman #Christian bale!batman x reader #batman x reader #batman x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!bruce Wayne x reader

[ktficworld]

"You want a last minute dancer and I want to gate crash Wayne's party. We have a deal."

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[ransprang]

Christian Bale (OOC) x Fem!Reader

Y/N and Christian Bale had recently gotten married, and her parents hated that. Christian and Y/N had been super clingy, and, to be honest, they felt he was a bit controlling. He would often ask her to do something, and Y/N would simply comply. Christian and she slept while hugging each other with their noses touching, and it turned out she couldn't sleep without him at all. To the extent that Y/N's parents noticed, the two would get upset even when leaving each other alone for a few hours. Her parents weren't sure, but maybe the main problem was that they were scared he would hurt her.

Recently they all had been invited to a party and y/n was super excited to go. Christian went out to buy her a sexy yet elegant dress of his choice that would make his beautiful wife glow. He gifted her the dress and y/n's eyes sparkled. She tipped toed up to kiss him and Christian wrapped his arms around her, as she melted into them. He deepened the kiss and groaned into her mouth as y/n pushed her chest against him. Christian looked at the clock and decided they both could be late...by alot. He pushed her onto the bed and got on top, he always loved being on top and restraining his little girl. Y/n moaned and tried to push against him but his sheer power turned her on. Y/n wrapped her legs around Christian's waist as he unzipped his pants and letting his thick pink cock free. He rubbed the tip before he slid it into y/n entrance. He began thrusting and as he caught speed he put his veiny hand over y/n neck and said "Say my name", but y/n moaned. He tightened his grip at her defiance, gritted his teeth as he pounded harder "say my name.", y/n looked at him "Christ...Christian". He loosened his grip and caressed her hair as he softened his thrusts "good girl, I like it when you listen to me". Y/n smiles back at him and closes her eyes in pleasure as she could feel his dick inside her as her husbands big arms held her down into place. As Christian neared climax he grunted and laid on top of y/n softly sliding in and out as they both laid chest to chest while he kissed his wife while releasing his warm cum inside of her. Y/n's parents happened to be invited too, as they waited out in the hall for their son in law and daughter to come with them they grew more and more agitated. They were already 30 minutes late, how could Christian be this irresponsible. Suddenly the room's door opened and both of them walked out, y/n was a bit nervous. Christian looks at her and said "head up high for me.." as y/n nodded and walked towards the front gate with pride. The drive was long and quiet as Christian sat with her in the back seat and caressed her hair, she was prettier to him than the view. She was his everything.

The party was lavish with many people, y/n separated from her husband to speak to other people. A while later a smaller group of people formed and a beautiful blonde woman with blue eyes, with the body of Pamela Anderson stood across and remarked "Chris, wanna have sex?", Christian looked visibly confused as y/n ears perked up. "I mean come on you're hot I am hot, lets do it. No one here will tell your silly little wife, I bet she's ugly". Everyone quickly realized that she did not know y/n was his wife and standing right next to her. Y/n's eyes were welling up but she held it together, Christian was visibly enraged with his hands in a fist. "Keep your filthy mouth shut." He said through his teeth, she looked a bit scared but nonchalant "oh please don't get worked up about this you know if you were unmarried you would've done me in seconds". When it came to y/n Christian knew no ethics he lunged forward to hit that woman, as a few of their mutual friends held him back in urgency. Y/n sprinted towards him and held his face "Christian look at me, you're not like this. you're better than this. Lets go". he calmed down at the sight of y/n and let it go instantly.

Christian held her hand tightly and stormed off towards the car holding onto the keys y/n's parents had passed to him. As they walked towards the door, her parents gave him a nasty look which said 'I knew you'd hurt our daughter one way or the other'. Christian disregarded it and as they reached the car opened the door to the back seat and rather aggressively pushed y/n in. He sat next to her and closed the door as he held her by the back of her head and kissed her passionately. He deepened it while pulling her closer and getting on top of her. "y/n let me make love to you", y/n hugged him tightly digging her nails into his back. "I love you Christian" as he made love to her and then calmly waited for her parents to say their goodbyes and drive them back home. She was his and he was hers and no one was to come in between them. Your Batman,

Admin Sav

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[tomhollandisabae]

hidden feelings - bale!bruce wayne x reader

masterlist

fandom; dceu

summary; after trying so hard to push you away, bruce cannot help but confess his deepest feelings to you

warnings; angst, mature language, fluff

words; 2.5k

a/n; this is the third time i'm posting this because it's not showing anywhere 😭

please send me your requests !!❣️

You and Bruce had been friends for many years. To be honest you, Bruce and Rachel had always been inseparable, but you and Bruce had an even more tight connection. So, when his parents were killed, you were the shoulder that he could cry on. You would spend so many hours trying to comfort him and show him that there was so much more out there, show him that he deserved the whole world. 

As the years passed by, however, your feelings for him changed drastically- from being friendly to more romantically. You always admired Bruce; how emotionally strong he was, how smart he was and in general everything about him. So, it is fair to say that when he disappeared you broke down.  

You felt as you had just lost your whole world. You'd always go to the Wayne Manor and ask Alfred if he had somehow come back, yet his reply was always negative. Until one day, when he had finally arisen from the dead. 

It was the happiest day of your life. Nevertheless, you realized that he had changed in so many ways. He had become more muscular, more serious and his whole demeanour was different. 

Sooner or later, you also caught up to the fact that he was hiding something away from you. So you comforted him, but it all ended up in a huge argument. He tried to shut you out of his whole life saying that he had no time for old friends and games now, that he had to focus on his company and other... women.  

That day he had broken you in so many ways. You tried to talk to Rachel, yet she told you that she had somehow cut of contact with Bruce too. Later on, she admitted to you that he was romantically interested towards her. She told you that she felt really bad about it, but you reassured her that she had nothing to feel bad about, after all it wasn’t her fault. 

He had made you depressed. You thought that he had finally broken you completely, until one day when you realised that there was something left of him inside your heart still.  

You were at the Wayne Manor, because apparently you were invited to his birthday party. Turns out Alfred had sent you the invitation. But you really hoped that you had never attended. The image of him with a beautiful woman; tall, slim, brunette, that was a perfect match for him, broke the last pieces of your heart that were left. They were dancing, making people look at them in awe, while you were standing in a corner of the enormous room, trying not to cry and make a fool of yourself. 

Now he had completely broken you. 

You couldn’t stand watching him with another woman for even a second more, so you run away trying to get as far away from him as possible. You didn’t notice that you had led yourself to a room that looked more like an office. A piano was placed at the far end and you walked towards it. You were indeed a very exceptional pianist and Bruce was always making sure to always remind you of that. 

You run your hands on the keys, starting playing his favourite song. You purred your whole heart on that song, tears running down on your cheeks, sobs leaving your soft lips. You took out your frustration on the piano keys, playing random notes, until you heard a thud and the bookshelves in front of you moved. 

You were left in shock, but decided to walk towards them pushing lightly. 

A long dark hallway appeared and you followed wherever it was leading. A few moments later you were in a huge white- modern room.  

You had no idea what this place was and why it was so well hidden. You walked up to a desk in the middle of that room and looked at the screen. There were many symbols that you didn’t understand and you leaned down to take a better look. However, without realising it you had pressed on a button and a big sound was heard from behind you. 

You slowly turn around to see what it was, but what you saw left you speechless. 

Batman's suit. 

Of course you had heard about the Batman. Who hadn’t heard about the Batman in Gotham? 

But why was Batman’s suit in Bruce's manor? Unless... 

Your thoughts were interrupted as the entrance where you came from opened and in came none other than Bruce fucking Wayne. 

Once he saw you, he stopped at his tracks. 

“y/n” he exclaimed your name in shock. 

“What...what is that?” you asked while pointing at the suit. 

“How did you get here?” he walked up to you. 

“By accident, I didn’t really mean to. You know how much I love playing the piano and there was one in y--” he interrupted your rumbling. 

“Are you a spy?” he raised an eyebrow while looking at you with abomination. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. He really had thought that you would ever betray him? 

“Me? A spy? To spy on who, Bruce? You? You really think that after everything we’ve been through, I would have backstabbed you like that?” you complaint. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while, you’ve probably changed.” he said and you huffed a sarcastic laughter. 

“May I remind you who was the one that wanted to end our friendship?” you raised your eyebrow. 

“So that gives you a reason to spy on me? Who are you working for?” you looked at him in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You were the one that pushed me away, I was trying to help you. You've...” you bit on you bottom lip to stop your sobs “you treated me as if I meant nothing to you, as if our whole childhood was just a dream and that fucking broke me.” a tear rolled down on your cheek. 

“You broke me, Bruce. There's nothing left of me anymore.” you said in a whisper. 

“And now... now you have the nerve to accuse me of such thing? After everything? Yes, I should be hating you, loathing you, but I don’t... I never did. Instead, I...” you stopped yourself before saying something that you would regret. 

“Instead, you what?” he walked closer to you. 

“Forget it” you turned your head, so that you wouldn’t be facing him. 

“Tell me” he demanded. 

“Why should I give you the satisfaction?” you looked up at him with sorrow “you don’t deserve to know anything. You don’t deserve to know what I've been going through because of you. You don’t deserve to know how I feel. You deserve nothing.” you saw sadness filling his eyes, but he huffed out a breath and shook that feeling away. 

“What are you doing here y/n? you weren’t invited.” he said afterwards. 

“Are you still blaming me for spying on you?” you exclaimed “but just to let you know, Alfred invited me, he thought that we could’ve a nice reconnection, but he was clearly wrong.” he sighed. 

“y/n, you can’t say anything of what you saw here to anybody.” 

“After everything I told you, you still really think that I would do such thing to you?” you wiped your tears away and he finally lifted his head up so that he could look you in the eye. 

However, the sight of you with puffy red eyes, arose a deep feeling within him that he had to feel for such a long time. His eyes soften and his shoulder fell in realisation of what he had caused. You looked so broken; indeed, he had ruined you. But why? Why would you let it phase you that much? You were the one that was giving him hope every single time and yet now here you were in front of him, completely hopeless. 

He hated himself for that.  

You were the only one, apart from Alfred, that was there for him at his worst. Not even Rachel was. 

And how had he thanked you for that? By destroying you. 

“y/n...” he whispered your name and placed one of his hands on your arm. 

“no...” you tried to back away from him, knowing that any kind of physical contact with him would end you, but he stopped you. 

“What have I done to you?” you saw in his eyes that he was hurt, but why? 

“Please Bruce...” you tried to get out of his grip, but failed. 

“I thought...” he started saying but took a deep breath as he got even closer to you and placed his palms on both your cheeks with a frowned expression. 

“I thought that back then I had made the right decision by letting you go. Trying to protect from all this, but I was so wrong. I was so hurt, trying to hide away my feelings was making things even worse. But what I did to you... I thought you’d be okay, that you’d leave a happy life without me, meet someone, get to know him like you know me, date him, marry him, have children...” you interrupted him. 

“No, no, I could never do that. No, there will be no one for me anymore... not after you” you whispered the last part while looking down, hoping for him not to have heard you, but he did. 

“Why?” he asked and you finally looked up. 

“Because I love you Bruce” a single tear run down on your cheek “I have loved you so much, for so many years. I was waiting so patiently for you to come to me, because I knew that you’d always come back, but once you did... everything had completely changed.” you confessed. 

“What had changed?” he asked you confused. 

“You had changed, Bruce. Not only that, but as I was trying to help you out with whatever was going on, you were pushing me away, until one day when you told, straight face, that you wanted to do nothing with me anymore and that you had other priorities” your voice broke towards the end. 

“Yes, that was true.” you looked at him in disbelief “and would you like to know what my first priority was and still is?” he questioned you and you looked at him. 

“You were, you are and you will be forever my first priority. Till the day I die, I'll be trying to protect you. I'm willing to risk anything for your safety, y/n” he admitted. 

“Why then? Why did you let me go?” you asked in despair. 

“I told you; I thought it was the right thing to do. I wanted to protect from any danger that Batman’s reputation would cause you, but I was so damn wrong. I should have never done that, because as much closer you are to me, so much more I can protect you and...” he paused “and because it hurt so much being away from you.” he bit his bottom lip while trying not to let his tears spill out. 

“Bruce...” you placed one of your hands on his that were still on your cheeks. He looked at you. 

“Why are you with all these women?” you asked. 

“Because I was trying to let go...” he replied. 

“Let go of what?” 

“Of you” he finally said “I wanted so bad to forget everything about you; your beautiful eyes that were shining every time you were happy, your beautiful smile that never ceased to not make my heart speed up, your intoxicating perfume, your way of always finding the right words to say, everything. I even try that with Rachel.” 

“Did you succeed?” 

“Not even close” he slightly smiled. 

“Bruce...” 

“I love you y/n. I love so damn much and I don’t know why it took that long to tell you, but I'm glad I did now. Even though I wished I could tell you first.” he chuckled and you bit your lip. 

“Kiss me” you said while looking at him. 

“y/n...” he tried to say but you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. 

“Prove to me that you really love me.” and that he did. 

Without wasting any more time, he pulled you towards him and his lips finally connected with yours in a very long-awaited kiss. You immediately lost yourself in the kiss. Chills run up your spine, your legs started trembling and your heart was about to burst out of your chest. But so was his. Bruce wrapped his own arms around your waist, biting on your lower lip asking for entrance, while he was backing you up against the desk behind you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and he started exploring it as your fingers tangled themselves in between his soft hair.  

His hand went even more south, on the back of your thigh as he hoisted you up on the desk making you spread your legs so that he would get between them. He pressed his whole body against yours, while you were feeling your lips going numb. As you had started running out of air, he disconnected his lips from your and started kissing along your jaw and down on your neck. 

“I love you.” he said between kissed “I love you so much” you threw your head back at the beautiful sensation. 

“Bruce...” you moaned out his name and in a nick of time his lips were back on yours, encaging you in a bruising kiss. 

“Master Wayne...” you suddenly heard a voice and Bruce immediately turned around to see none other than Alfred standing at the entrance completely speechless. 

You immediately pushed Bruce away, feeling embarrassed, while you jumped off the desk. 

“Alfred” Bruce exclaimed. 

“Your guests are requesting for you” he informed him while a mischievous smile made its way on his face. 

“Yeah, I'll be there in a minute.” he said and turned back to you when Alfred left “where were we?” he smirked at you, but you pushed away. 

“We were about to go back to the party because your guests are expecting you.” you smirked at him. 

“Well, I am with one of my guests now, am I not?” he raised an eyebrow while grinning at you. 

“Let me remind you that Alfred was the one that invited me” you told him. 

“it’s my birthday, though...” he pouted. 

“Okay then, birthday boy, if you go out there now, I promise you that you’re in for a long night tonight.” you winked at him. 

“Shit y/n, you can’t do this to me” he groaned as you started making your way out of the bat cave. 

“Watch me” you challenged him as you walked away while swinging your hips from side to side. 

“fuck” you heard him while running up to you. 

“you’ll regret that after the party” he said. 

“we’ll see about that.” 

#christian bale imagine #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #christian bale x reader #christian bale #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #batman

[bludhavents]

Out Late

pairing: bale!Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

summary: Bruce isn't home yet and you can't get in touch with him. He comes home and fluff ensues.

word count: 900

warnings/tags: fluff, domestic!Bruce, kissing.

based on this request. I am so, so sorry this has been in my drafts since you requested it, and your message in my inbox just reminded me I never posted it!!! I loved writing this : )

Three hours had passed since Bruce promised to be home from his nightly patrol, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel physically sick with anxiety. Both of his identities were of too high status to pursue: If you called the hospitals around town asking if Bruce Wayne had been admitted, there would be panic in Gotham. If you called the hospitals around town asking if Batman had been admitted, there would be panic in Gotham.

The only thing you could do to soothe yourself was take a seat on the couch and glue your eyes to the TV screen, watching the news sacredly. If he was injured--or god-forbid he was dead--Gotham Nightly News would surely have the story as soon as it happened. So, as long as they kept talking about the falling stock market and upcoming weather forecast, you were able to find a sliver of peace.

Still, not knowing where Bruce was in the middle of the night was a terrifying thought.

You'd called his phone a hundred times. Left tens of voicemails with a worried voice asking him to just message you when he saw this. To come back to you safely.

The door to your apartment opened suddenly, and you jumped from your seat, racing to where Bruce was entering with open arms. He was still in his Batman gear, which made it hard to hug him or check him for injuries, but that didn't stop you. You happily threw yourself in his arms, squeezing him tightly and breathing out shakily when his arms snaked around your back and held you close to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked gently as your fingers made their way to the mask he was still wearing. He leaned into your soft touch, shutting his eyes at the feeling of your gentle hands after such a long night.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry that I'm late," Bruce said as he guided you back to the couch. He let himself drop onto the cushions, stretched across its length before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you on top of him.

"You're gonna poke my eye out with one of these things, Bruce," you chided, pulling his mask off by its long cowl. Bruce chuckled, his chest shaking with laughter under your body. "Mm, it's all fun and games until you have a girlfriend with an eyepatch," you teased, but when he leaned up to press a kiss to your lips, you gladly obliged, letting your body finally relax against him.

"I think you could pull off an eyepatch," Bruce said as he pulled away from the kiss, earning a small chuckle from yourself. The sound was music to his ears, and he realized that he was truly undeserving of such a loving, caring woman in his life who was willing to stay up until 4am just to lay on the couch with him when he got home.

He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth. Your hands found his hair and he melted into the feeling of your skin against his. He settled his hands under your shirt on the small of your back, but you pulled away before he could deepen the kiss.

"Let's get you out of this," You sighed, pushing your hair back out of your face before taking both of Bruce's hands and guiding him to your bedroom, where a change of clothes already waited for him on the bed.

Bruce grinned softly, although his attention was primarily focused on watching your lips move as you spoke. He let you walk him to the bed and sit him on the edge of the mattress. Slowly, your hands worked to remove his suit piece-by-piece, something you had done only a few times before. He always tried to clean up before coming home, cleaning his cuts before they could worry you, and changing out of his sweaty suit so he could feel your soft hands wrap around him in greeting.

"Why'd you come home with your suit on today?" You asked as you slid the last layer of the top over his head.

"I was already late, I didn't wanna keep waiting," He admitted shyly, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. His torso was bare, and you admired the view as you wrapped your own arms around his neck and kissed him slowly.

"I was worried. You weren't answering your phone." You let him pull you into bed, moving up to lay your head on his chest.

"I know," he sighed heavily. "I don't know where it went. I was chasing after this guy and I realized the time and tried to call you, but it wasn't in my car, and I couldn't just let the guy go, you know?"

"No, I know. Of course." You turned to press a kiss on his chin, admiring the loving look in his eyes as he watched you.

"I should've just come home. You're always more important than my job, baby." He ran his hands through your hair soothingly.

"Your job is important," you assured him, snuggling impossibly closer. "I know you love me. I'm not worried about that, not ever, Bruce."

"I do. So much." He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around your back to pull your chest into his. "Let's get some sleep. Goodnight, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Bruce."

#bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader

[spideybatsy]

A+B | Chapter Eight

Summary: GN!reader is falling in love with Bruce Wayne, even if they won’t admit it. Everything takes a turn for the worse when Bruce’s biggest secret comes to light.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: being held hostage, mentions of mental and physical abuse (not described), blood, implied smut

Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3

Masterlist

Bruce’s goodbyes took longer than expected and he ends up coming into the hallway to find Alfred already snooping around. Alfred’s relief at seeing Bruce is short-lived because he quickly starts searching again.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce has never seen him so concerned and is immediately on high alert.

The older man says my name while opening a corridor door. “They started coughing while on the telephone. A man said something and then the line went dead.”

Bruce’s heart plummets into his stomach and he quickly joins the search. Together, they go through every room in the hallway before something stops Alfred in his tracks. He calls Bruce over, who collapses at the scene.

There, folded neatly on the floor, are both our jackets. Lying on top is the necklace he’d just gifted me, the clasp broken as if it had been ripped off my neck.

--

It was well into the early hours of the morning that Alfred rushed down to the Batcave, demanding Bruce turn on the news. He tuned in at just the right time.

“Some viewers may find this footage disturbing, caution is advised,” the presenter said.

His already broken heart shatters as he spots my figure in the bottom corner of the video, rocking back and forth. Seemingly without any reason, I let out a blood-curdling scream. The camera angle changes to a close-up of my face. Fresh tears stream down my already tear-stained cheeks, and my entire body is shaking as my eyes dart around the room. My hand rubs at my nose, my fingernails are cracked with dried blood staining my fingers.

My eyes catch on something, and I start chanting one word over and over. Scarecrow. I begin violently screaming, trying to scramble further into the corner when the video cuts off.

“The man who calls himself Scarecrow sent this to Gotham Police with a typed letter demanding the presence of Bruce Wayne and Batman.” The presenter appears back on the screen. “Upon seeing both, he’ll return his hostage.”

--

When I wake up, I’m horrified to find the masked man standing over me.

“Don’t be scared,” his voice doesn’t sound as warped as it did before. “The toxin should be out of your system by now.”

“W-What do you want?” my voice is scratchy from all the screaming.

I flinch as he snaps his fingers, another man runs into the room and puts a tray in front of me. He’s gone before I can note any of his features.

“Eat up,” the masked man says.

I look down at the tray. It’s full of chocolate-covered strawberries.

“I-I’m not hungry.” I start wiggling away from the tray.

The man sighs, leaning down and taking a strawberry.

“They’re not going to hurt you.” He rolls it between his thumb and forefinger before lifting his mask to take a bite. I try to get a better look at his face, but he only exposes his mouth before pulling it back down. He then squats, so he’s closer to my eye level.

He points the half-eaten berry at me, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s holding it out for me to eat. He must see the hesitation on my face because he places it back on the tray and holds another one out to me.

“If you eat this, we’ll talk.” His words bring back memories of Bruce, who always wanted me to eat up before having a hard conversation.

Poor Bruce, he must be so worried. He’s always held himself responsible for my safety and now that I’m missing, I know he’s beating himself up. Maybe if I talk to this Scarecrow, he’ll reveal personal information that Bruce can use to catch him after he brings me home.

I shakily reach out and take the strawberry, nibbling at the tip. Scarecrow waits patiently while I eat, it takes about 15 minutes to finish. He doesn’t reach for another berry, so I take it as a sign to start talking.

“What do you want from me?” I cough as soon as I finish, and panic starts swelling through me. Did he put more of that stuff in the food?

“You’re coughing because your throat is in a horrid condition.” I find it unnerving that he can so easily read me. “And I don’t want anything from you, I’m merely testing a theory.”  

He hands me another strawberry but I’m not sure I can stomach it, so I just hold it in my hand.

“What theory?”

“A few months ago, one of my subordinates overheard a very stranger conversation between you and the Batman.” I rarely talk to suited-up Bruce in public. “Now he claims that The Prince of Gotham and Batman are the same person.”

I do what comes to me naturally and play it off. “A bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”

Jonathan seems entertained at my response. “That’s what I thought, too. Then, a few months pass and suddenly you’re attached to Mr Wayne’s side. Which made me think maybe there was some truth to this preposterous claim.”

“Why take me then?”

“It’s quite simple, really. I have you here, torture you a little and demand both Batsy and Bruce show up to get you. If they both come, I’ll know the theory is false. If there’s only one…”

I can’t stop the way my heart starts ramming against my ribcage. They can’t both show up. Scarecrow has him cornered.

“Batman doesn’t like rich people, what makes you think he’ll come for me?”

“You’re not rich.” Although I can’t see his face, I know he’s smirking. “Otherwise, you’d be a psychologist by now.”

How long has this man been spying on me? Invading my privacy? Perhaps it’s true what they say, you’re never truly safe.

He stands back up and heads for the door. With his hand resting on the handle, he looks back at me.

“They have four hours, then we’ll have to pump you with more toxin to take another video.”

“Don’t do that, please. I’m begging.”

He ignores my pleas and walks out, locking the door behind him.

--

I don’t know how long I sit in the room. It could’ve been 10 minutes, could’ve been 10 hours. At one point I swear smoke is bleeding from the vents but when I look back, there’s nothing. The overhead lights flicker and for a while, I’m in complete darkness.  My eyes adjust just in time for the room to illuminate again.

The dehydration gets to me and by the time the door opens again, my head is pounding. Someone hisses my name and then the masked man enters.

“You have a visitor.” He gestures behind him, and two goons drag in a slumped figure.

He’s so covered in blood that I don’t recognise him at first, but as soon as they throw him face-first into the concrete, I’m crawling over.

“Bruce,” I struggle to get him on his back. “Bruce, can you hear me?”

The door slams shut, leaving us alone. His right eye is swollen to the point of closure and a combination of fresh and dried blood paints his face. Still, his lips tilt up when he looks at me.

My tears are immediate, sliding down my cheeks and onto Bruce. My hands shake as I reach and wipe them from his face. His hand reaches up and slowly takes mine, intertwining our fingers.

“Are you okay?” His voice is rougher than usual.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I squeeze his hand.

His smile is a light in the darkness.

I slip my hand out of his grasp and he groans as I pull him up to lay his head on my lap. He shifts, then seemingly finds a comfortable position as he sighs and relaxes.

“How long have I been here?” I bring my hands to his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

“12 hours,” he diverts his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

I use my grip on his hair to tilt his head back. His eyes are glassy, full of unshed tears.

“You came as soon as you could,” I whisper. “That’s all that matters.”

He nods but I know he doesn’t believe me. It’ll take a long time for him to admit this isn’t his fault. Even longer to forgive himself.

We stay like that until I drift off, feeling safe now that Bruce is with me. I don’t know what we’ll do next. If Bruce will break us out or if we wait for the police to come. But he’s here and I know he’ll protect me. No matter the cost.

--

I awake to the sounds of gunfire, immediately thrashing against my restraints.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” It’s only after this sentence is repeated a few times that I finally calm down.

The gunfire seems to be coming from outside, but the room is in complete darkness. Strong arms are wrapped around my waist and I’m sitting in Bruce’s lap, his head resting on my shoulder.

“What’s happening?” I find Bruce’s hand in the dark and entwine our fingers.  

“We’re being rescued,” his voice vibrates through my back.

“By the police?”

“I don’t think so.” He squeezes me tighter against him.

I open my mouth to respond when I’m blinded by the light. I blink a few times and as my eyes adjust, I see the silhouette of a caped crusader in the doorway. It’s Batman.

I find myself sinking further into Bruce’s grip, confusion spreading through my veins. If that’s Bruce, who is holding me? Or more likely, if Bruce is holding me, who is that?

“It’s okay,” Bruce whispers into my ear. He starts to stand up, bringing me with him. “I promise.”

He goes to set me on my feet, but my legs give way. I stumble forward and Batman catches me before Bruce has the chance to.

“I’ve got you,” his voice isn’t as deep as Bruce’s. I look up at his eyes, shocked to find them blue. They’re not as deep as Dr Crane’s, which is strangely relieving.

Bruce limps over, “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Can you walk?” The imposter Batman asks.

“I-I don’t think so,” I admit, wincing as soon as I put any weight on my right leg.

“Is anything broken?” Bruce asks, looking at ‘Batman’.

Batsy’s eyes scan over my body, his eyes squinted in concentration.

“No,” he says. “It seems like the toxin has loosened their muscles. Everything should be back to normal after a few days.”

“Thank you.” Bruce lets out a breath of relief.

He wraps his arms around me and with a grunt, cradles me to his chest.

“Bruce,” Batman places his hand on his shoulder. “You’re injured.”

“I can do it.”

“You’re hurt.” I place my hand on his other shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Please, let Batman,” I look sceptically at the man, “take me.”

I can see the hesitance on Bruce’s face, his eyes are glassy when he finally nods. The masked vigilante quickly takes me into his arms, holding me bridal style.

“I’ll be back in a second to get you,” he says to Bruce.

“Okay,” Bruce leans over and kisses my forehead. “Be careful.”

“Of course,” Batman speaks with sincerity.

He turns around and heads for the door, only stopping when Bruce yells across the room.

“Remember, there are cameras.”

Batman mutters an ‘of course’ under his breath and I felt a jolt run through me. Almost as if he had jumped and hit the earth again.

The stranger runs out of the room and down the hallway. I can’t help the tears that run down my face, anxiety for Bruce curling through me. He’s always been such a stubborn man, which has caused so many issues. He must be in so much pain to suddenly accept the help of this stranger.

“Bruce is okay.” The stranger says, “he’s just worried about you.”

“How do you know?” My voice is muffled as I push my face further into his chest, failing to hide my tears.

“I just do.”

I know he’s left the building when I feel the wind whipping at my hair. I lean away from him and take a deep breath, grateful for the fresh air. The stranger smoothly sits me on the grass before looking back at the building.

“I’ll be right back.” Before I can say anything, he’s gone.

Taking a moment, I look around. The sun is high in the sky, making me think it’s around midday. Based on what Bruce told me, I guess that I’ve been in that room for about 36 hours.

The grass is green and soft under my fingertips, and I run my hands through it, grounding myself. I’m sitting on a hill, overlooking the city of Gotham. My eyebrows furrow when I notice the barbed wire fence, trapping me with the building. Turning, I catch sight of the Arkham Asylum sign.

What on earth am I doing here? Does Dr Crane know that a criminal is keeping hostages in his asylum?

Questions are still running through my head when Batman walks outside, supporting a limping Bruce. I struggle to stand up and by the time I’ve got my footing, they’re right in front of me.

“Bruce,” I make toddler-like grabby hands at him, and he instantly hobbles to my side, taking me into his arms.

“Forgive me.”

Before I have time to ask what he’s talking about, lights start flashing behind me. It’s far enough away that I know it must come from behind the fence.

“What are they doing here?” I murmur, pressing my nose into the crook of his shoulder and neck, closing my eyes.

His hand rubs soothing circles on my back, “we need to make the idea of Bruce and Batman being the same person impossible.”

I hum into his neck; I understand why they’re here, but I still don’t want to look at them.

“The police are going to show up any second,” Bruce whispers in my ear. Like clockwork, I can hear sirens in the distance. “Are you okay to talk to them?”

I nod into his neck, refusing to open my eyes. “Just don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

--

It’s night by the time we get back to the manor. After the police arrived, they ushered us past the press and straight to the hospital. I had to almost beg for Bruce to be checked, as his stubbornness reared its head again. Once we’d been cleared, we were taken back to the station for statements. While it had been painful to relive, Bruce was by my side the entire time. His hand never left mine.

Batman had vanished into the night the second the police arrived, having had whispered something into Bruce’s ear.

We are approaching the steps to the house when the door opens, and Alfred basically flies out. Before I could get out a word, he pulled me into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” his tone is one I’d never heard before.

I wrap my arm around him and squeeze him tight, my other hand still holding Bruce’s.

Alfred ushered us inside, where a man is sitting on the couch. He stands up and walks over, shaking hands with Bruce.

“I’m so glad to see you’re okay,” he says, turning to me.

“Thank you,” I can’t help but move closer to Bruce, causing him to wrap his arm around my waist.

“A, this is Clark.” Bruce gestures to the man, “Our stand in Batman.”

I can’t help the blush that runs from my neck to my cheeks.

“O-Of course, it’s lovely to meet you.” I reach out and shake his hand.  “Sorry, I’m very tired.”

I can feel Bruce’s eyes piercing my skin, his hand squeezing my waist.

“It’s okay,” Clark smiles. “I better head back to Metropolis, I just wanted to check you were both okay.”

Bruce grabs his shoulder. “I owe you one.”

Clark smiles, “No, you don’t.”

--

I trace Bruce’s scars with my fingertip, amazed at their number. You’d never expect a billionaire to have a bruise, never mind various welts of scar tissue. He shivers as I run over a sensitive spot, nudging his face further into the crook of my neck.

“What are you doing?” his voice is muffled, but I still hear him clearly.

“Memorising you,” I whisper.

He pulls his head back and leans his cheek against my own. “Why?”

“Why not?” I run my finger over his sensitive spot again, amazed when the skin twitches. There’s something incredible about having such a massive effect on such a gorgeous man.

“You’re not planning on going anywhere, are you?” I can feel his frown and confirm it as he pulls back to look me in the eyes. The blanket around his waist shifts, revealing the top of his backside.  

“Not without you,” I admit. “But I do feel like we’ve earned a holiday.”

I slide my hand down his back and to the curve of his ass, which is scarless and soft. He shifts in my grasp, and I feel him start to harden against my thigh.

“Maybe you’re right,” he sighs, ghosting his lips over mine. “You pick a time, I’ll pick the place.”

“Where do you have in mind?” He skates his hand down my side, resting it on my hip.

“Somewhere hot,” all at once he pushes me onto my back and slots his hips between my thighs. He’s leaning on his elbows to avoid crushing me, but his body is pressed firmly against mine. “Somewhere that doesn’t require many clothes.”

I’m giggling when he finally kisses me, taking my breath away.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #gn!reader #bruce Wayne x gn!reader #bale!bruce Wayne x gn!reader #batman #batman begins #the batman #BatFam #batboys

[juniperwoodwell]

can I request #5 from your general prompt list with bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader? maybe you’ve known each other for a while but don’t know he’s batman and there’s some definite tension and one night he doesn’t know what to do after he’s pretty scraped up so he comes to you to tend to his wounds even though you’re not a doctor. And you figure out who he is, only reason he hasn’t told you is to protect you. Maybe the convo gets heated and escalates into a kiss/confession?!

Presence

•Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

•Word count:1k

•Warning(s):Talk of wounds and blood but nothing too gross. Use of Y/n.

•A/n:Hello! So I wrote this about a year ago before I even got this request and I thought it was pretty close to your request. I may decide to make a part two if that's something you'd like. If you dislike it I can always write something different.

•photo not mine, Pinterest

It was two in the morning, and I was in my apartment watching friends in my living room when I heard a window open in the kitchen; being very concerned and very startled, I got up off the couch and grabbed the baseball bat I kept next to the front door, I proceed into the kitchen with the bat in hand, I went to flick on the light, but a low, strained voice spoke up "I wouldn't turn on the light if I were you. You might not like what you see." I saw the figure, and  dropped the weapon "Batman?" I asked and turned on the light; he closed his eyes at the bright light. I gasped, seeing his suit ripped on his left shoulder and right under his ribcage. "What happened!?" I said, as I approached him. "Let's not talk about that," he spoke softly as I looked him over. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you go to the hospital or find someone who can sew you up?" I ased, and he nodded. "I did. I found you" I looked up at him, confused, but assumed that he looked me up. It's not a secret that I have medical experience. "Okay. Come with me" I guided him to my bedroom and told him to sit on the bed, and he obliged. I went to my closet and pulled out my large first aid kit. I grabbed all the things I needed, then went back to Batman. " I know your whole thing is about having a secret identity, but I can't exactly patch you up with that suit on or the mask," he grunted, then nodded. "Yeah...You're right. " I smiled apologetically because I could see the pain in his eyes; it looked familiar for some reason. I went to my closet again to grab a box that says, 'Ex-boyfriend things I need to burn.'

Placing the box on the bed next to Batman, I opened it and pulled out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants "You can put these on. I'll let you change in here" I hear him chuckle as he looked at the words on the box. "Thank you. Come over here for a second before you leave" I do as he asked and stand in front of him as he's was sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached up and took off his mask. "Mr. Wayne?" I say, almost whispering, "How many times do I have to tell you just to call me Bruce when we're alone?" I was at a complete loss for words; everything clicked in my mind as I stepped forward and placed my hand on his cheek, he put his hand on top of mine and smiled sweetly, but the moment is cut short when I remembered that he was bleeding "Hurry up and get changed we don't were the wounds to get infected." He chuckled as I rushed out of the bedroom closing the door.

As Mr. Way-Bruce was getting changed out of his suit, I sat on my couch "...Wow...My Boss- Friend? is Batman...This makes so much sense. Wait- So does that mean my father knows? Did my dad know Bruce was Batman, and then Bruce blackmailed him?-" My thoughts are cut short when Bruce came out of my bedroom. "I can explain everything to you if you want. But after you patch me up." I shoot off the couch and returned to the bedroom with Bruce. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, and I grabbed some alcohol wipes. It wasn't until I stood between his knees that I realized he didn't put on the shirt. The man is bleeding and bruised, and here I was, ogling him. "Y/n?" I shook my head as I snapped out of my daze "S-Sorry. This will be cold," I warned as I started to clean up his wounds, he flinched and quietly hissed at the contact. I stitched up his side, then his shoulder. "All done," I announced with a reassuring smile as I look at him. Our faces were inches apart. "Thank you..." he said quietly; I only now noticed his arms were loosely wrapped around my waist. "I..." I stopped myself before I say something I'd regret. "You...?" he asked as I placed the needle down on the bedside table; I tried to move so he could get up, but he pulled me closer. And kissed my cheek. "I hope you understand that I couldn't go to the hospital. I had no one else to turn to" I nodded and placed my hands on his face; he smiled tiredly and put his head on my shoulder, my hands gently played with his hair. "Why don't you just stay here for the night," I asked, and he nodded. "I can go sleep on the couch," Bruce suggested, looking back at my face, "What? No, You take the bed, Bruce. You've had a long night," He sighed, probably knowing i'd say something like that. "Let's not argue about who sleeps where. I'm too tired right now," He spoke with a smirk playing on his lips. Tightened his grip on my waist, he leaned back onto my bed, pulling me on top of him. "I- Bruce-" He cut me off quietly, shushing me. His fingers gently rubbed small circles on my back. "I'll explain everything in the morning," he said in a whisper, and I nodded tiredly. My head rested in the crook of his neck, on the non-stitched side of the course. We quickly drifted off to sleep.

I groaned as I felt the morning sun on my face; tiredly, I opened my eyes to see Bruce standing in front of my window with a cup of coffee in his hand, still just in those baggy sweat pants that barely stayed on his hips. "Good morning..." I breathed with a yawn as I sat up; I looked down, realizing I was no longer in the same clothes I had the night before. "Hmm.." Bruce turned to me and sipped his coffee with a smile. "Can I know how I got into this shirt?" I asked him, rubbing my eyes.

"You don't remember?" he questioned, as he chuckled,

 that sweet noise filling my ears. "No...So care to explain?"

 "Ha, alright. About an hour or so after we fell asleep, I woke up and decided it'd be good if we laid in the bed properly" He stopped speaking to sip his coffee and sit down next to me.

"So I woke you up and asked you if you wanted to change out of your jeans and put on Pajamas; you mumbled something like 'Sure thing, bossman,' so I got you to sit up on the bed so I could get you a shirt to change into. When I turned around to give you the shirt, you were struggling to unbutton your pants, I asked you if you needed help, but you sternly told me, "No, batman, I can save myself," so I sat the shirt beside you and helped you change after I asked you about twelve times. Eventually, you cooperated, then we returned to bed and passed out" After Bruce finished explaining, my face grew hot with embarrassment.

"Did I really say that stuff?" I asked shyly, and Bruce nodded as he finished his coffee; he leaned in and kissed my head. "It was cute." I groaned and fell backward onto the bed in embarrassment. "By the way, This coffee is horrible." He said as he smiled at me before he, too, fell back onto the bed beside me. I looked over at him and rolled my eyes. "Hey, Don't judge my coffee choices. Not everyone can buy stupidly expensive coffee." I said as I reached out to poke his nose; we laughed as we lay in each other's presence.

#writing #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reader insert #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman begins #batman

[allysunny]

Hiii! Could you do 14+n with Bruce? 🤭 I know it takes a lot of effort to write but the fact that word count is a lot is not only bc he is bae (he’s the only man ever actually) but also bc YOU are suuuper talented. It’s insane. Anyway, than u in advance ❤️

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me” + Pregnancy + Bale!Bruce Wayne

Words: 4.1k words

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, a bit of crack (Bruce is so funny he could be a stand up comedian), Alfred is also hilarious, lots of protective Bruce and Alfred, it's just an overall very fluffy and sweet fic!! Not proofread though, so if I forgot anything, let me know!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's another entry from my 200 Followers Event! This was so fun to write oh my god!!! I am a firm believer in the fact that Bruce Wayne would be an amazing partner, and a very fun person to be around. I truly think he'd have the most beautiful relationship with his partner, and I tried to convey it here!

So, I hope this was up to your expectations, and that you love it as much as I do!!!!

ᴬˡˢᵒ ᵒᵐᵍ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿˢ, ᴵ'ᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ʸᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵛᵉʳʸ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ, ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿ!!! ᴰᵃᵐⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᴮᵃˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱᶜᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˡᵒᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ ˡᵒˡ

The first thing you thought as you walked down the stairs of Wayne Manor was “We should get an elevator”, followed by “I’m never walking down these godforsaken stairs again”.

You weren’t lazy, not quite.

It was just extremely hard doing so now that your stomach was as big as a basketball.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and leaned against the marble railing, sighing deeply.

“Look, I love you, I really do. You’re my little bundle of joy, and you’re not even here yet,” you mumbled, placing a small hand on your stomach to support it. “But you need to give your mommy a break, alright? I can barely walk, and your dad wants to put me in a wheelchair. And we’re stubborn, baby, we are. So, we gotta prove to him we’re still capable of doing things on your own. Thing you can do that?”

You were met with a weird sensation; one you’d felt countless times before. Your baby was kicking. You didn’t think that to be a coincidence – you liked to assume your child was replying to whatever you said. You spoke to him quite often, mumbling about your day, telling him about all the things you did at the Manor or whenever you were out and about. Bruce was pretty sure you were already the baby’s favourite since he seemed to calm his kicking fits pretty quickly whenever you spoke to him.

You smiled at your bump and caught your breath, making your way towards the living room.

Alfred was in the kitchen, brewing a small cup of tea. He placed it on top of a silver tray and came out of the room. Once he got a good look at you, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and he hurried to place the tray down and rush to your side.

“Madam Wayne, what in the bloody hell are you doing?” he asked, taking your arm. Alfred, just like Bruce, had taken a liking to assuming you weren’t even capable of opening water bottles by yourself. “I thought I told you to let me know once you came downstairs.” His tone was stern, but you could tell apart the layers upon layers of care.

“Alfred, if I take you up on that offer every time you make it, I’ll become spoiled. That’s not a message I want to pass on to my son,” you replied with a soft chuckle.

Alfred led you to the couch, where you sat down and groaned in relief. You were about 8 months pregnant, and absolutely huge, and everything felt terrible and uncomfortable. Bruce doted on you immensely, but you just wanted it to be over, wanted to get this baby out of you and into your arms.

“Your son is the heir to the Wayne name, Madam. I believe he will grow spoiled whether you like it or not.”

“Bruce will not be spoiling our child, Alfred,” you scoffed, “You know I won’t let him.”

“No one said anything about Master Wayne.” Was his reply, paired up with a cheeky grin.

You chuckled and tried leaning over to fetch the cup of tea Alfred had prepared. He of course did not let you, grabbing it before you had a chance to. He handed it to you with a soft “Here you go” and a cheeky smile.

Ever since you’d gotten pregnant, it was like Bruce and Alfred alike had made some sort of devilish deal to take upon themselves every burden and chore of yours. You were no longer allowed to do laundry, help Alfred with the dishes, tend to the garden, you weren’t even allowed to cook dinner for your husband anymore.

Instead, you were told to rest and not worry yourself and not tire yourself out.

It was annoying when Bruce did it, although you knew he had the best intentions at heart, but it was even worse when Alfred did it. Alfred, of all people. Your partner in crime, your close friend, the one who teamed up with you against Bruce, the one who made sure to always keep you in the loop of whatever was going on, the one person you knew you could trust in a sea of snobs and fake smiles (aside from Bruce, of course).

You often joked he’d betrayed you, no longer joining you to prank Bruce or get him to leave his office or his cave. No, now, it was the other way around, and you felt like you’d been stabbed in the back.

“One day you’re going to wake up, and I’m going to be shopping all by myself, far away from the both of you,” you sighed and sipped from your tea. It was your favourite and tasted as lovely as always – Alfred was almost like a magician.

“And risk giving Master Wayne a heart attack? What a loving wife you are.” Alfred replied smugly. “I guess true love really does manifest in the strangest of ways.”

“You’re a viper, Alfred,” you sighed. “A vicious, sneaky little viper.”

“Happy to be of service, Madam.”

You groaned.

That’s another thing you’d lost after the pregnancy – the privilege of having Alfred calling you by your actual name as opposed to any fancy titles. It had taken him a few years and a lot of begging from you; you were far too tired of “Mrs. Wayne” and you considered him more than a butler, but rather a friend, so why couldn’t he just address you by your name? And you’d managed to do it. Little by little, Alfred was calling you by your name, ditching the titles.

That was, until you said you were pregnant.

Now, not only you were back to titles, but you were also Madam.

When you’d asked Alfred why the sudden change, he said, “Not only you are Mrs. Wayne, but you are also carrying on the legacy of this family. You are Master Wayne’s wife, and now the mother of his children. It would be informal to refer to you as anything less than that.”

Safe to say, you were screwed.

You loved your guys, you did. Alfred played a huge role in your life, being friend and confidante and a father figure all at once. And Bruce was the love of your life.

But sometimes, all you wanted to do was strangle both to death.

“If you need anything, Madam, just call.” Alfred said before standing up.

“You know I won’t.”

“I know bloody hell you won’t, but I’ll be here nonetheless.”

You smiled and grabbed the book that was by your side, deciding on some light reading. The sun was shining brightly and casting a warm glow over the vast living room of Wayne Manor. You smiled at the sight. You loved peaceful afternoons like this, where the sun warmed your face and tickled your feet, and you could relax for a bit.

Today though, you were simply trying to pass time until Bruce arrived.

He was taking you out for a stroll in the park later, something you’d been begging for a while now, and you couldn’t wait.

It’s not like he kept you locked up inside the Manor – not at all. You were not a prisoner he held captive. He was just protective. Bruce had lost so much in his life; now that he had you and you were giving him a child, he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you weren’t taken from him as well. He did not forbid you to go outside or carry on with your usual life – he was simply careful. Ever since you started showing, Alfred was to accompany you anywhere you needed to go, along with a bodyguard Bruce had hired just for you.

Bruce knew how cruel Gotham could be, and how vicious journalists and paparazzi could act just for a scoop, so he made sure to try and keep you safe, even if he wasn’t there to do it himself. And you had to admit, he’d been right. More than once had paparazzi tried to get pictures of your baby bump, or tried to interview you while you ran errands or shopped. It was draining, and you partly understood Bruce’s paranoia with your safety.

When you hit the 7-month mark and your belly had considerably grown in size, he was more alert than ever. You couldn’t leave the house without being accompanied, and if you wanted to go out at night, you had to let him know where and with who in advance. Not to control your every move (well, kind of to control your every move), but just to keep you safe, should he be out as Batman and couldn’t go out with you. And how could you not understand where he came from? Everyone knows poor Bruce Wayne’s story. Losing both his parents at a young age, being away from his own city for so long, leading an extremely lonely life all these years. He was not going to lose the one person that had brought him so much joy and hope for the future.

At first it had annoyed you a bit. “I’m pregnant, Bruce. I can still do things,” you had told him.

But one night, you caught him in your bedroom, shaking and crying. Earlier, you’d been intercepted by a few journalists – fanatics, more accurately – who’d cornered you against a wall and bombarded you with questions, even going as far as touching you, pushing you and pulling you so you’d be near their microphones and answer their questions. Bruce had been fetching your drink from a coffee chop nearby, while you waited for him outside (the line was long and it was bustling with activity, and Bruce did not want you near all the confusion), and he’d only caught sight of you when he came out, drinks in hand, and spotted your teary eyed expression, trying to get away from the reporters. The drinks were forgotten and spilled all over the sidewalk once they hit the floor, and Bruce was by your side in a flash, yelling at them and threatening them repeatedly. You were quick to hold onto him, terrified, and he wrapped his arm around you protectively, a cruel expression on his face.

And later when you got home, you’d caught him crying. You’d walked up to him and asked if everything was alright, and he had begged for your forgiveness. He kept mumbling about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten there on time, about how terrible of a husband he was, leaving you all alone on the street, and about how you didn’t deserve him.

You’d sighed and pulled him up to kiss his lips softly.

“You’re an amazing husband,” you’d whispered in the quietness of your bedroom. “The best I could have ever asked for. And you have nothing to apologize for. It’s fine. We’re fine. Please don’t beat yourself up over it, I beg of you.”

Bruce had taken your face in his hands and kissed you, promising without words to do better, to be better. You kissed him back, assuring him no promises were needed.

The following morning, every news channel was flooded with reports of numerous journalists being fired due to the harassment of Bruce Wayne’s pregnant wife.

You’d looked at Bruce over your coffee, and he’d smugly ignored you.

Bruce had taken the news of your pregnancy extremely well. Of course he’d moped and worried for a while, commenting on how he had a duty as Batman, but also as your husband, nearly trying to figure out a way to split himself into two jus so he was able to take care of both, but a serious talk with Alfred (which you overheard partially by accident) sent him on the right track.

From that moment onward, Batman wasn’t in the picture as much. He did not give the mask up altogether – Bruce wasn’t going to stop trying his best for the city, and he had to make sure the tabloids did not put one and one together (even though no one in the public eye would ever guess the Bruce Wayne to be the Dark Knight) – but his mind was always on you.

And perhaps it was a good thing because Gotham seemed to be flourishing. Crime rates had gone down, and people walked a bit more safely at night. It was a breath of fresh air, knowing that Gotham could be transformed like that. Besides, Bruce did not want to worry you. Worry and stress were terrible for the baby, so he promised he’d do his best to give you none.

So far, it had worked, and your relationship had never been better.

Speaking of the devil, Bruce walked inside the living room, loosening the knot on his tie. His face looked tired, and sported a frown, something that you picked up on almost immediately.

“Good afternoon, handsome.” You smiled at him, and could see the way his shoulders visibly relaxed, how his feet moved towards you like second nature, the way his frown was quickly replaced by a smile.

“Good afternoon, beautiful.” Bruce sat by your feet and took your hands in his, as he usually did. He bent over to kiss you tenderly and place a quick peck on top of your belly before asking, “How’s our little peanut doing?” He rubbed soothing circles on your skin, and you melted into his touch, as you often did.

“Very active, as always. Hasn’t stopped kicking and won’t let me walk two steps without expressing its discontentment.” You huffed, before realising the words that had just left your lips. “But I’m fine,” you were quick to add, “Extremely fine, and we can totally still go for a walk in the park. It’s fine. I’m fine. Honest.”

Bruce eyed you curiously, and you recognised in his eyes the look he always gave you when he was trying to read you. Right now, you assumed he was trying to figure out whether you meant it or not.

“I swear. I’m fine. He’s just active. Come on, help me up. Let’s go.”

“Darling, are you sure?” he asked, lovely brown eyes filled with so much concern it made your stomach churn a bit. You hated seeing him like this. You knew it wasn’t your fault though – neither was it his. He was just a good husband. “If you’re tired, we can stay in. Watch a movie, order some takeout maybe – “

“Bruce, I promise,” you repeated, cupping his jaw. “He’s just active. Takes after his father.”

“Whoever that may be,” he joked, earning a chuckle from you.

“Now, help me up. I’m huge and want to go for a stroll with my husband.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Bruce helped you stand up and wrapped his arms around you. He brought you close and kissed you properly this time, lips trailing over yours as his tongue explored your mouth. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks and you smiled into the kiss, sighing in delight.

“Are you trying to distract me, Mr. Wayne?” you asked, peeking through your lashes.

“Maybe. Is it working?” he replied.

“Maybe. But not entirely. Come on. The weather is really nice today, and I really don’t wanna miss it. I’m going to get extremely upset with you if you kiss me out of going for a stroll. And you won’t like me when you’re mad.”

“I already don’t,” Bruce gave you one last peck and took you by the hand, leading you to the garage.

Bruce had to admit, the weather was nice.

The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot to scald either of you. Birds were singing (something he had never heard before in Gotham), and flowers were in bloom. It was the perfect afternoon, and he was extremely glad he’d taken it off to be with you.

Speaking of you, you sat next to him, eating strawberries, and admiring the view in front of you. You loved this park – it was where you’d first met Bruce – and came here often, relishing in the pretty scenery and the calmness of it all. Gotham could be bustling with energy and light and noise, and while you’d come to grow fond of it (after all, it was home), you also appreciated those moments of quiet you managed to steal whenever you could.

“What about Benjamin?” you asked, turning to him. You were as radiant as ever, the light of the sun bathing your face in an ethereal glow. Bruce was sure that if angels existed, this is what they would look like. He caught sight of some strawberry juice dripping down your chin and collected it his finger, taking it to his mouth afterwards to lick it clean.

You wrinkled your nose.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Oh now, is it?” Bruce asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m pretty sure last night, you asked me to – “

“What about Benjamin?” you repeated. Only this time, slightly louder, and with heat spreading across your cheeks.

Bruce chuckled and moved closer to you so he could steal a kiss. You tasted like strawberries and love, and he wanted to freeze this moment forever.

“Benjamin.” He repeated once he pulled away for breath, lips inches away from yours.

“It’s sweet. We could call him Ben.” You said with a soft smile.

“Benjamin when we’re angry.”

“Bruce!”

“You’re going to have my child; do you seriously expect him to be an angel?” He asked with a quirked brow.

“Ah, so now it’s your child.”

“It’ll be yours every time he gets in trouble.”

“With a father like you, I wonder if there’s ever going to be a time where he doesn’t.”

The two of you laughed and Bruce swore his heart was going to burst from all the love he felt. For a long time, he’d led a mostly lonely life, going to parties, and pretending to be a womanizer, a new model or actress on his arm whenever his photo was taken. It was sad, but necessary if he wanted to keep his Batman persona a secret. Only Alfred was allowed in, seeing as Bruce had no living relatives or any close family. He had Rachel, of course, but they didn’t speak as much as they used to, seeing as she was now engaged to Harvey Dent.

And then you came along.

And his lonely, monochrome life was turned upside down and splashed with colour.

Events and galas were now much more enjoyable because he had you by his side to talk to, kiss whenever no one was looking and make fun of all the high society extravagances he did not associate himself with. No longer did he wake up to silky white empty sheets, but a lovely woman who snuggled close and kissed his jaw and made him giggle and laugh and feel loved. So very loved.

“Anyway, I’m not sure I like Benjamin,” he said, tugging a lock of hair behind your ear and taking the opportunity to run his fingers through your radiant face. Up close, he could see the details of your face, the way your lashes framed your pretty eyes, how they sparkled in the sun. You were the loveliest woman he had ever laid eyes upon. “Any other ideas?”

“Theodore? We can call him Theo.”

“Theodore?”

“Nathaniel. Nathan.”

“I am going to divorce you.”

“All it took was bad baby names? Crap, I would’ve done this way sooner if I knew that’s how I got to get rid of you.”

He snorted and stole another kiss, cupping your cheek with his palm. You were man and wife, but most importantly you were friends. You were his best friend, his greatest confidante and partner in crime. There was no awkwardness between the two of you, never had been beside that small nervous feeling on your tummy during the first few dates. After that, you both became inseparable, and all nervousness was out the window. That’s why you could joke around so much – you trusted each other.

But of course, these were all jokes. Bruce worshiped the ground you walked on, and you loved him more than your own life. No matter how many jokes you cracked about situations like this, you were deeply in love with each other. At first, Bruce was a bit unsure about the jokes. He was afraid that deep down, you would mean any of the things you told him. But after a lot of reassuring, he realised it was simply your friendship blossoming even more. You were still friends. Only now, you were married.

After a while of kissing and stealing a taste of the strawberries you’d been eating earlier, he pulled away and smiled.

“Actually…” you started, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Scary stuff.”

You chuckled.

“About a name.”

“Doesn’t make it less scary.”

You pushed him jokingly and he kissed you once more, swiping his tongue over your lower lip and earning a sigh from you.

“I wanted to run it through you first.”

“Alright, hit me with your best shot.”

You took a deep breath and nodded once, before turning to face him again.

“Thomas.”

It took a while for Bruce to react. Thomas. You were thinking about naming your son Thomas. Like his father. He felt a flurry of emotions surge within him. First, he felt melancholy at the reminder that his father wouldn’t be here to watch his grandson grow. Nor would his mother. After that, he felt hurt. His son would grow up without a regular family. And then, all of the pleasant and positive emotions settled into his chest and he found himself smiling. He felt gratitude for you. He was so grateful to have you by his side. And then he felt happiness. Pure, sheer, raw happiness. He was so happy to be your husband. So lucky. So grateful.

“Thomas.” He repeated.

“Thomas. Tom.”

“Tommy.”

“Little Tommy Wayne.”

“Thomas Wayne.”

“Junior.”

“Junior?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you gesticulated, “After your father. Junior. Is that not how it works?”

“I think I would have to be Thomas in order for our son to be Junior.”

“Really? I thought you just added that to whoever. Thomas the second, then.”

“We’re not naming our son Thomas the second.” Bruce scoffed.

“Technically, he’ll be Thomas the second, you know.”

Bruce laughed again, and you smiled. How you loved seeing your husband smile. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Bruce was a beautiful person. Not just a beautiful man. A beautiful person. He was kind and caring, and extremely funny, and even though no one else in Gotham knew, he risked himself nearly every night to keep Gotham City safe. He was perfect. And all you ever wanted was for him to be happy.

The day you told him you were pregnant, you were sure your heart was going to burst with joy at the sight of him. He hugged you tightly, kissed your breath away, opened the windows and screamed out loud that he was going to be a father, wept a little, kneeled in front of you and kissed your stomach – the whole shebang.

And it almost made you weep with joy, because if your beloved husband was happy, what else could you possibly want?

“I love it,” he murmured, and you could spot the vulnerability in his gaze. It made you melt. It made you feel special, because you knew you were one of the only two people who Bruce allowed himself to be vulnerable with. Made you love and treasure everything you’d built together even more. “Thank you. I think it’s beautiful. Thank you so much. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. Have I ever told you this?”

“You have. Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it, though,” you smiled and sat up straighter so you could take his jaw in your hand. He turned his face and softly kissed your palm, which sent butterflies flying in your stomach – or perhaps that’s just your son. “I love you too, Bruce. So much. And I love our little family. Even if we haven’t gotten to meet our little Tommy yet.”

“I love our family too,” Bruce replied, before stealing another kiss. “And I’m sure we’ll be immensely happy. I already am.”

“Me too.” Another one.

The two of you remained like that for a while, talking, smiling, giggling, and stealing strawberry kisses from each other (not that you needed to steal – you could take anything from Bruce, and he wouldn’t mind) and watching as the sun slowly set, bathing Gotham in soft twilight.

And you knew, as the breeze blew, and you sat next to the man you loved, that the world could throw just about anything your way. Unknowingly to you, he was thinking the exact same thing. And as you looked into each other’s eyes and smiled, you knew. You knew that as long as you were together, you would be fine.

A/N: And that's it! I know the ending is super cheesy, but I just love happy and cheesy endings... They make me all warm and fuzzy inside, and Bruce definitely deserves one!!!

Alright!!! I'll see you guys on my next drabble!!!

I hope you have a wonderful day ahead!!! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[remuslovebot]

Protector | BW

pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

warnings: kinda rushed relationship, fluff, Bruce being protective and kinda stalker vibes. Not proof read. Kinda long?

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Bruce was your protector. That’s how he saw it anyway. He would do anything to keep you out of harms way. But you also had a life that he could not control. Bruce worried about you a lot, especially when you were not with him.

It wasn’t safe in Gotham. The Joker was running rampant. Scarecrow — Dr.Crane — still hadn’t been found. These were all of Batman’s enemies. If they knew about Bruce being Batman then they would come for you.

You had nagged your way into Bruce’s life. As a reporter for the Gotham Gazette, you wanted to interview Bruce for a charity he was donating a lot of money to. Usually Bruce wasn’t big on giving interviews.

When you walked into his office on your arrival, you were taken back by his good looks and obvious charm. You’d seen him in magazines and in your publication but in person he looked quite different.

“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him.

When Bruce saw you, he was struck. You were beautiful. But your presence felt familiar. Like he knew you in another universe.

“Please call me, Bruce,” He insisted and you nodded, taking out your reporters notebook and tape recorder.

You sat down across his desk and crossed your legs. Bruce looked you up and down and you felt uneasy.

The interview went well and you went back to your office to write the article. You couldn’t shake off Bruce though. And Bruce couldn’t shake you off either.

He wondered when he would be able to see you again. Little did he know, you had a thing for getting yourself in sticky situations.

One night you were in the office working late, when you got a tip about a deal going on between two of the Jokers henchmen. That would be a big story for you, you thought. So impulsive as you were, you grabbed your bag and left.

Bruce was patrolling as Batman, when he saw two of the Joker’s henchmen start making a deal. He then saw you, hiding behind a dumpster. His heart dropped into his stomach. What the hell were you doing here? This is not safe for you!

You tripped behind the dumpster and one of the goons heard you. It wasn’t long until they cornered you and grabbed you.

“Hey! Let me go!” You screamed. You tugged against them and they had your purse. You stepped on one of the men with your heel and he yelped, letting you go.

You began to run away when the second one caught you.

“Let her go,” A dark voice in the shadows said. You looked up only to see the famous ‘Batman’ that Gotham Gazette had been so interested in.

Batman dropped down from the building and grabbed the goon. You fell to the ground but picked yourself back up. Batman fought the men and you watched from the sidelines.

“You should go,” Batman told you, tying up the Jokers goons.

You shook your head, “this is a story and a crime scene. I’m not leaving.”

Bruce thought you were stubborn. But it was attractive that you cared enough to stay. From that moment, he wanted to be by your side always.

When the cops showed up, you got your story. Even Batman gave you a quote, which was rare.

“Do you need a lift home?” Batman asked. Bruce under his mask was blushing furiously.

You looked so calm in a state of panic. You were truly a reporter.

“That would be nice, actually. Thanks,” you replied. Batman drove you home. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

Bruce smiled softly. His persona of Batman slipping away. You were that dangerous.

“It’s no problem. You need to be careful out there.” He said, then driving away.

You didn’t see Batman or Bruce for a while after that. But Bruce kept tabs on you. He wanted to see you again. Maybe ask you out for coffee. But he was afraid to get involved. Alfred called him silly.

“It would be nice to see you settled down, Master Wayne. This girl seems like a wonderful person.” Alfred said, always the helpful one.

Bruce wasn’t very good at taking Alfred’s advice though. The next time he saw you, you were in disguise. However it wasn’t very good, as Bruce spotted your curious eyes from a mile away.

“You know, if you’d only reached out I would give you any source you want,” Bruce said, taking a drink from his glass of whiskey.

You turned around to see him, albeit surprised. “Mr. Wayne.”

“Bruce,” he corrected.

“Bruce. I am perfectly capable of getting my own sources. But that is not why I’m here.” You said.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why are you here?” He asked, holding out his hand to dance with you.

You accepted and he pulled you into his arms. “Did you know that one of Commissioner Gordon’s men is working for Joker?”

Bruce didn’t know this. In fact he wondered how you knew before him. You were smart and he was falling more in love.

“I did not. Please tell me more.” Bruce said.

You looked in his eyes and found that you could trust him. His brown orbs looked so familiar, like you’d seen them in a dream.

“The men you arrested that one night. I went to Arkham to interview them again. And he ratted out the information but no name,” you explained.

You and Bruce continued to dance, he held you close and you found yourself blushing.

“And this person. Is here now?” Bruce asked and you nodded.

“Once I know who they are. We can alert Batman.” You said brightly.

“You really think so highly of him?” Bruce asked, snobbishly. He had to play his part well.

“Of course. He’s helping the city.” You said.

Bruce couldn’t argue. He loved that you thought so highly of Batman — of him. But you had no idea they were one and the same.

As you danced with Bruce, your connection grew. You got lost in his eyes and he in yours.

“Bruce…” you said, above a whisper.

“Yes?” He asked, looking down at your lips then back to your eyes.

Before you could answer, the doors to the dance hall closed shut and Jokers goons crowed around the doors.

Bruce held you close. He had no idea how he was going to pull off being Batman and getting you out of there.

You and him stopped dancing and he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You blushed.

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asked. You looked at him suspiciously but then nodded.

Bruce guided you away from the surprised crowd as fast as he could. He practically carried you off that dance floor.

“Bruce— what about? Where are we—“ you began to argue.

He shushed you, “You said you would trust me. Now please be quiet,” he pleaded.

You did as you were told. Bruce lead you to a secluded part of the building and opened the wall.

“What is this your panic room?” You teased. Bruce gave you a look. “Alright I’ll be quiet.”

Once you were through the wall, the lights to a gigantic room turned on and in the middle of the room was — the Bat suit.

“I can’t have anything happening to you. The joker probably came here for you because you’re on this story. Now I need you to stay here where you are safe.” Bruce said, beginning to undo his tie.

“You’re Batman.” You said, speechless.

Well there’s goes no telling her out of the window., Bruce thought.

“Yes.” He replied.

You walked closer to him. “So you’re the one who saved me. The one that drove me home.”

You were speechless and had all these pent of feelings for the man that saved you. Who was also the man who danced with you.

You pulled him to you by his half undone tie and kissed him softly. Bruce immediately kissed back, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“Hmm, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you,” Bruce said, pulling away.

You smiled, looking into his eyes softly. “Go. Be Batman. But please be safe.”

He nodded, a hand going to your cheek to caress it softly. “I will. I need you to stay here though. I need to protect you.”

You knew that Bruce Wayne and Batman would always be your protector.

#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #christian bale is hot #christian bale fluff #christian bale x reader #christian bale smut #chrisitan bale batman #batman x fem!reader #batman x reader #batman begins #the dark night x reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #bale!

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Diamond Rings 💫

Bale!Bruce Wayne x wife!reader

A/N: I finally got around to writing this lovely request!! Fluffy morning sex is perfect for Bruce AHHH 😭 and this is also the sequel to 'My Precious Jewel' !! Get your nom noms :3

~Fi 🐝

《Prompt》: the ask is here!

《Requested by》: anon <3

《Warnings》: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. Handjob, edging (barely), PiV, throat holding (???), creampie (don't be like them), lil bit of cockwarming, so fluffy it's sickening, Bruce is a hopeless romantic, change my mind. (You can't)

《Word count》: 2.6k

Sequel to My Precious Jewel ♧

Can be read as stand alone as well though!

Masterlist ✨️

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, tickling your face. You stirred, craning your neck to take a peak at the time. 8:39 am. You sighed sleepily, turning around and snuggling closer to the man who had his strong arms wrapped around you.

You smiled softly as you saw his peaceful expression, still dreaming away. Feeling a cold sensation on your hot skin, you gently lifted the covers. The hand that held you tightly yet so lovingly had a gold ring sitting on its ring finger. You quickly inspected your own hand, finding a golden wedding band there as well.

You had to stop yourself from squealing like a little girl when you realized that all of it, the wedding, the reception and the kiss weren't a dream. You were officially married now.

There were so many emotions bubbling up in your chest. Unbridled joy, disbelief, and pure excitement. But, you'd decided to deal with all of that later, and for now just enjoy your first morning snooze as Mrs. Wayne.

You pressed a sweet kiss to Bruce's lips, and closed your eyes, burying your face in his t-shirt clad chest. It wasn't even 9 in the morning. You'd sleep till dusk like this if you could. Safely in the embrace of your now husband, feeling each other's steady heartbeat and soft breaths.

A comfortable silence lingered over the estate, safe for Alfred who was probably doing all kinds of things already. You'd urged for him to sleep in today, he deserved a break. But, to your dismay, you knew the man and he couldn't just sit and relax even if he was chained to the chair. Well, as long as he enjoyed whatever he had to do you wouldn't complain.

Your slightly parted lips were pressed right above his heart, gently brushing the cozy fabric of his shirt with every breath. One of your arms was slung over his waist, your fingertips gliding over his back in whatever random pattern your wrist decided to carry out. It was a soothing gesture, making Bruce hum sleepily as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickling his face.

His arms tightened around you, making it clear that he didn't want to leave the bed either. He felt like he had been put in chains, in a loving and warm way, not in a constricting and controlling manner. The chains that were your love and affection kept him tied down, sinking into the soft sheets, with an even softer you in his grip.

"Don't ever wanna leave this bed..." you mumbled into his chest. A drowsy smile tugged at Bruce's lips as maneuvered you closer so your legs were intertwined.

"I don't either... never wanna be without you." He sighed, feeling the familiar and gentle call of sleep.

"Wanna sink into the mattress, let it swallow us whole."

Your husband chuckled softly. Lack of sleep and early mornings did tend to bring out the poet in you.

"You can tell me all about that in, say... 4 hours?" His words were jumbled, the heavy fog of slumber taking over his brain. It took you a minute to put together what he said, as your own brain was still neatly tucked in its own metaphorical bed.

The furrow in your brows softened when you understood what he was trying to tell you, and you pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you.

"Very, very good idea."

Soon enough, you slipped back into colorful dreams, safely tucked against Bruce's chest.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A strange feeling that settled in Bruce's bones is what woke him up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling by all means, it was just... odd. A peculiar buzz in his skull, that slowly trickled down into his spine. It was euphoric almost, making him hazy about his surroundings but too aware of every nerve in his body.

His shirt was soft, too soft, and the buttons on the pillowcase dug uncomfortably into his ribcage. The sliver of sun that managed to sneak its way through the thick curtains fell directly on his face.

His nose scrunched up as the blinding light slowly burned his eyes. Yet the warming and comforting feeling on his cheeks made him stay in place, taking in the new day instead of pulling the covers over his face.

He shifted slightly, shivering when a cool sensation set the nerves in his thigh on fire. The sight of your hand, your married hand, on his leg, made a fire ignite in his stomach that was so ravenous and destructive it could've turned him to ash from the inside out.

The gleaming of your ring, the ring that he put there, made his heart rush and his cock twitch in his briefs.

"Been waiting for you to wake up." With a sweet smile playing on your lips and a certain glint in your pretty eyes that he'd seen many times before, you stroked your thumb over his skin. Your touch made his breath hitch ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you. It never did.

You were able to read Bruce like an open book, all the tricks he'd acquired over the years and used on the public to shift his image didn't work on you. They never really had, even from the beginning. For some odd reason, that he couldn't explain, you could see right through him.

"Hm, yeah? Could've just woken me up, honey. You're my wife now, after all." Bruce grinned, a strong arm sneaking around your back and pressing you flush against his chest. Your cheeks were on fire. That word still flustered you to the high heavens, and you reckoned it would for a little while.

"It would've been a shame to wake you. You looked like you were crafted by the gods." You whispered softly, pressing your lips to his in a tender but hungry kiss. Bruce melted into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving gracefully against each other. With heavy breaths, puffy lips and glazed eyes you severed your connection.

"The sun sitting on your cheekbones," your fingertips traced over his face in such a gentle manner, one could assume you were afraid of breaking his peacefulness.

"And on your lips," your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, which curled up into a smile.

"Down your neck... it would've been a crime to break such beauty."

Your hand settled on the back of his neck and gently kneaded his muscles.

"I'm flattered, though no beauty can ever match yours, my love. You will eternally be the universe's rose, blooming in all your glory no matter if the sun shines or not."

"You need to stop reading all those books Alfred recommends to you." You giggled, an obvious blush on your face.

"I don't think I will." He smirked before capturing your lips in a kiss again. It was desperate and full of passion, making you sigh softly against his mouth. His hands became needy, grabbing at the fat of your hips. Bruce trailed his kisses over your cheeks, to your jaw and down your neck, sucking and gently biting at your skin.

You moaned quietly, your body sinking into the sheets at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Grabbing at the hem of his white shirt, you swiftly pulled it over his head, revealing his mouth-watering physique to you. The hand that had been resting on his thigh up until this point now cupped the tent in his briefs, stroking gently but with a firm hand.

He groaned into your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.

"None of that, baby, look at me." You cooed softly, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and gently pulling him away from your neck. Your hand dipped into his underwear and gave his cock a few strokes before shoving his briefs down his thighs.

Never breaking eye contact, you licked a fat stripe over your palm, guiding your hand down to his dick and rubbing at the tip. His lips parted slightly and few throaty groans left him.

"J-Jesus Christ, sweetheart, your hands really are magic." He breathed out, his head tipping forward just a smidge as you found a steady pace with your hand wrapped around him.

"Only for you, always for you.." you whispered against his cheek, feeling his breathing speed up. His hands were digging into your hips by this point as you circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum and your spit slicking him perfectly.

When you ran your finger over the underside of his shaft, against the bulging vein, pretty moans spilled from his lips as he approached his high. But before he could float on that cloud of bliss, you retracted your hand and left him hanging on the edge. His eyes were hazy and filled with need and desperation as he let out a frustrated groan.

"You're gonna regret that, little minx." Bruce smirked, but there was a fire in his eyes that made the heat in your belly boil over.

"Will I?" You challenged with a wicked smile, making him chuckle before smashing your lips together and silencing any further comment you might've made.

He pushed you onto your back and quickly pulled your nightgown over your head before sliding your panties down your legs.

Bruce's hands were placed on your inner thighs, pushing your knees further apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt, pupils swallowing the brown of his irises whole. Your naked form isn't something he hadn't seen before, but his mind was foggy with emotions of all kinds; the golden sunlight that painted your skin, the way your hair fell into your face, and that sparkly diamond on your finger making his heart swell in his chest.

You were his, through and through, and he never doubted it, but to see that solid piece of evidence sitting so nicely on your ringfinger made something stir in him; something primal, almost.

His hands trailed to your waist, kneading your flesh, as he leaned forward to be closer to you.

"I'd eat you till morning, honey, but I need to be inside you." You could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency and need in his voice, blanketing it in a soft and loving tone.

"I need you inside. Please, my love." You begged needily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in until his dick was prodding at your entrance.

"Besides," you whispered when his head found its place in the crook of your neck,"you can always have me for breakfast later."

With an amused huff, he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up delightfully.

"You'll be the death of me." Bruce groaned, intertwining your fingers on both hands and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your beautiful moans echoed softly in the bedroom when he started to slowly thrust his hips into yours.

The movement knocked the breath from your lungs every single time, your nerves tingling with a sizzling fire that crawled up your spine. He sped up his thrusts, moaning and groaning against your lips.

You pressed your hand against his chest to slow him down again.

"Slow, slow... wanna feel every part of you."

You could've sworn you heard the faintest whimper escape his throat, gripping your hands tighter has his cock dragged along your walls. You could feel every ridge and bump, your head lolling to the side in bliss.

With languid and deep thrusts, Bruce continued to bring the both of you to the edge of your ecstasy. As your moans got louder, you reached for the hand with his ring on it and gently placed it around your neck.

Your husband shifted his weight so he wouldn't fall on top of you, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You placed your ringed hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You just wanted him to gently hold your throat, wanting to feel the cold metal against your burning skin.

"You won't hurt me, I promise. Jus' need you to hold me- fuck!" You cried out at a particularly deep thrust, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into the back of Bruce's hand.

"Look at you. My pretty fucking wife. All mine. I made you mine, and everyone knows. They just need to look at that pretty diamond ring on your finger." His voice dropped an octave, and his words were almost a growl as he plunged in and out of you.

"You're s'good to me, honey. The perfect husband f'me." You moaned, your lips clumsily brushing against his as he panted on top of you.

"God, I love you." He grunted, his movement becoming sloppy as he was nearing his climax. You could feel the bliss gnawing at your limbs as well. Bruce trailed his hand between your bodies and circled your puffy clit, which only made you succumb to the pleasure faster.

"F-Fuck- oh my god, I'm so close!" You almost screeched, trying to ground yourself with him in any way you could.

"Come f'me, yeah?" He heaved, struggling to get the words out between his groans. Any more moans and cries were muffled as his lips greedily found yours, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again.

With a a strategic swipe over your clit and a well timed thrust, your orgasm crashed into you, jumbled 'I love you's falling from your lips as Bruce spilled inside of you with your name on his lips. The hand around your throat tightened only a little bit, prolonging your high that much longer as bliss clouded your brain.

Bruce gently lowered himself on top of you, steadying his breathing against your chest. You were catching your breath as well, tracing patterns on his bare back. He was still nestled deep inside of you. He rolled the two of you over so you were on top of him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.

"I love you so much." You mumbled, eyes falling shut. You didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter to you. You had nowhere to be except right here, snuggled against your husband.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Are you alright? D'you need anything?" he asked softly, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

"Hm, no. Jus' wanna stay like this. Maybe take a nap." You yawned, making Bruce chuckle.

"Do you need anything?" You questioned in return, placing a kiss to

his shoulder. "I could use a nap as well." He laughed softly, pulling the covers over the both of you.

"Good. Cus' I'm not getting up." You sighed, letting yourself be loved by him. His hands lazily ran through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, baby." He whispered against your hairline, coaxing a sleepy smile onto your lips.

"You too, my love."

Both of you drifted off with the sun high up in the sky, not a care in the world that it was well past noon. Your hearts beating in sync, your soft breathing mimicking each other and connected deeper and closer as ever, the bonds of your love shinning in the dwindling sunlight with your hands intertwined.

If Bruce could make you wear his heart, he would, but for now the diamond ring would have to do.

You were his and he was yours. The perfect balance of love.

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《Taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny

Let me know if you want to be added! <3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne smut #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #the dark knight #dark knight trilogy #nolanverse

[floralcyanide]

― B R U C E W A Y N E ❁

♡ M A S T E R L I S T ―

ғɪᴄs ʟᴀʙᴇʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ sʏᴍʙᴏʟs ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.

smut ✺, fluff ✿, angst ☁, gore ☆, nsfw☼

↬ 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘦!𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦

- 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 ✺☼

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman #batman begins #nolanverse #nolanverse batman #batman x reader #batman x reader smut #batman smut #christian bale #christian bale x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman #floralcyanide bruce wayne masterlist

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Drowning In Love

Summary; Bale!Bruce Wayne/Batmanx Fe!OC (Althea) ~ They had known each other for a while and nothing has seemed to have happened...yet.

Yet another night had passed and Bruce was in pain.

No matter how much he would deny it. From the cuts on his arms, to the graze on his face and the bruises on his ribs. He was, it was safe to say, in a lot of pain.

And Althea knew.

She'd known him since she was 23 and had come to visit Alfred before she went back to medical school.

Even then she was beautiful and extrodinary to him.

She was also the first person - outside of Alfred, and technically Lucius - to know who he was. And he never even told her.

It had been 9 in the morning and all he wanted to do was sleep but with the gash on his arm from a machete the night before, it was stopping him from drifting off.

Alfred had fixed it as best as he could but then Althea turned up.

She walked through the front door and into the library where she found Bruce sat behind a desk. His arms were covered, no-one could see the harm done.

But she could.

Althea had been talking, already speaking to Alfred and Bruce when she stopped dead in her tracks and after five very long seconds, she spoke.

"Oh, my god." Althea was in complete shock. "You're an idiot. Please tell me you tried to talk him out of it." She looked to Alfred accusingly.

She looked back to Bruce then dramatically rolled her eyes before turning on her heels and leaving through the door as she shouted; "I'll be back! Don't you dare move!"

Bruce looked to Alfred, who even looked scared. "How the hell did she-"

Alfred shook his head and collected the tray. "I don't know. Although, I think her brain might be a little wasted in the medical field. Then again, she is the best doctor I have ever met."

"Don't try and butter me up, Mr Pennyworth. I'm mad at you, too." Althea was back and dropped her medical bag beside Bruce's chair and kneeled beside it.

"Take off your shirt."

"Buy me dinner first?" Bruce tried to joke.

Althea looked up - she was pissed.

"Okay, I don't like you looking at me like that while you're holding a needle."

"Be glad it's not a knife."

Bruce looked to Alfred but he was already quickly leaving. He knew when to avoid Althea and this was when.

"Coward." Bruce whispered under his breath as he began to remove his shirt.

Althea didn't look to Bruce, but she did hear him. "Don't worry, I'll get him later. He isn't getting away with this. And neither are you. What the hell are you thinking?!"

Althea's hands moved like they were on auto-pilot. She was cleaning the wound, removing the old stitches, cleaning it again, stitching it again - and much more neatly - and finally dressing the wound.

Bruce tried his best to explain his case to her but was struggling.

"No, you know what, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Althea said. "Actually, do. Tell me why you are risking your bloody life every night being dressed in costume."

"It's not a costume. It's a suit."

She looked into his eyes and he had to draw back a little. If she had been a detective, even the most ruthless criminals would have confessed through just one look of Althea's.

"It's a costume." Athea repeated. "You're risking your life. Every night, Bruce. Have you even thought about what would happen if something goes wrong? If you get hurt more than you're capable of handling?"

"I'll be fine."

"Bruce-"

Bruce leaned in a little closer as she finished wrapping the bandage. "Ali, I'm okay. I'll be fine."

She rested herself back on her heels and looked to him. He could see the fear in her eyes, for him.

"I promise."

Althea eventually nodded and packed up her things. "Okay," then she slapped his hand away from the bandage.

"Don't."

"What?" Bruce asked a little offended.

"Don't itch it. It's healing."

"Fine."

That was over a year ago now.

And, yet, it felt like it was yesterday.

Sitting on the edge of his sofa, Althea sat across from him on the coffee table.

Bruce still hadn't changed out of his blood-splashed black t-shirt and trousers, but Althea had bandaged his forearm and put his other cuts back together and was now cleaning the graze wounds above his left brow.

The room was soaked in darkness but from the city lights, the moon, and the one lamp beside the sofa, they could see one another.

"I really wish you'd stop doing this to yourself." Althea spoke.

With them being so close, they spoke in what felt like whispers. It was their secret, being inside the penthouse.

"Gotham needs Batman-"

"Gotham needs Batman, but I still need you, Bruce." Althea softly brushed the cotton wool across the graze, focusing on the redness but then back to his eyes.

The stokes became softer until she finally placed the cotton down. "That should do. You need to sleep. I'll give you some asprin in the morning."

"Thank you," Bruce said, finally catching her hands in his to make her look at him. "For everything."

Althea looked between his eyes and then down to their hands. Bruce's fingers were running softly over her knuckles. "You don't have to thank me, Bruce."

"Yes, I do." Althea finally looked him in the eyes. "You always help fix me, even when I don't know that I need it."

"You know you need it, you just think you can deal with it."

Bruce smiled. "Either way, you're always there for me."

"What kind of friend would I be if I wasn't?"

"Are we just that? Friends?"

There was a long silence and for a moment, it felt awkward. The unspoken thing was out in the open, but then it became...natural.

Althea didn't really know why, but she removed her hand from Bruce's and carefully and slightly hesitantly, she placed it beside his cheek before drawing him in for a kiss.

Bruce was a little surprised, to say the least.

They had known each other for so long and, of course, feelings had always been there but they'd never been acted on.

The kiss was soft and new but...familiar. It was as if they'd kissed a thousand times before, but each time had been their first.

As Bruce kissed back, his hand landed softly to grip her thigh. It was real. He wasn't dreaming...again.

The kiss slowly settled and with their foreheads touching, Althea could feel her lips still burning. But she couldn't. Not tonight.

"Get some rest," she told him. "I'll see you in the morning."

Althea slowly stood up, still feeling Bruce's hand in hers slowly loosening it's grip.

She packed up her things and looked back before she turned the lamp off.

"Night, Bruce."

Bruce watched her leave before he laid down on the sofa and it wasn't long until he finally drifted off with the feeling of Althea's lips still on his.

The next morning, Bruce woke to find Althea walking around the living room of his penthouse, flicking through medical files.

"You're awake." Althea stood and picked up a powdered tablet and a glass of water before mixing them together. "This should help with the headache."

She sat down on the coffee table as he sat up - just like the night before.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," his voice was rough both in sound and against his throat.

"So, typical Tuesday then?"

Bruce gave a soft smile as he saw hers, watching him as he drank from the glass again.

"The news is reporting that Batman has saved yet another dozen people and many more by stopping more criminals. The crime stats have gone down 2% in the last five days." Althea explained. "Also, I've updated your medical form - I know it's only Alfred and I who see it but still. And-"

"Althea,"

"It seems you're also due a medical check-up so I've booked you in for next week-"

"Thea." Bruce took the medical case file from her and placed it beside him. But she still continued.

"And don't think that you're skipping it. I'll drag you there myself if you don't-"

"Althea!" Bruce finally managed to capture her attention, but it was only for a few moments.

"Your vitals seem fine but I've taken the day off to monitor you in case something goes wrong-"

Trust the medical professional to already have his entire medical history memorised.

"Ali, please." Bruce took her by the hand. He could tell, even from just her voice that she was scared for him.

It was only Bruce that really knew the difference between her voices, how tiny the differences were and which pitch or way of wording meant what.

"I'm okay."

Even though he didn't know for sure, he knew. Bruce knew that she had been monitoring his heart-rate all night.

"You fixed me yourself, Ali." Bruce reassured her. "I'm okay. I'm healing. I promise you, I'm okay. I'm here. We both are."

Althea closed her eyes and lowered her head feeling Bruce's fingers intertwine with hers. "I know you won't give this up yet, but please...please be careful."

"I always am." Bruce smiled in a soft whisper.

"Am I interupting something?" Alfred asked as he entered.

Shocked and surprised, Althea quickly stood up and calmed herself. "He'll live."

"Ah," Alfred smiled. "Good. But, just in case, I've called Mr Fox and you are required to stay home."

"Doctor's orders." Althea added.

"Not that you go in, anyway."

"I heard that." Bruce replied.

By the time Alfred finished up, Bruce pulled him aside giving him the day off.

"I suspect Miss Chambers will be keeping a watchful eye on you, already." Alfred agreed.

"Yes, I suspect she will."

Alfred smiled, patted Bruce's shoulder and made his leave.

The rest of the day was spent with just himself and Althea, on the sofa, watching movies.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" Bruce asked after an hour of watching her slowly slip in and out of conciousness.

"Yes, I did."

Bruce just smiled a little before pulling her over towards him.

Slowly, she laid her head down on his lap. This wasn't unusual for them - sometimes it would be the other way around. Althea spent that much time on long shift with no sleep that she could fall asleep instantly and with Bruce living his double-life, it meant he mostly slept in the day.

However, this time Althea could feel herself drifting but it wasn't until she took Bruce's hand in her own and placed two fingers against his wrists that she finally fell asleep - or near it at least.

Hours passed and neither of them moved, just letting a random movie play on the TV until finally it was reaching night-time.

They had eaten a few hours ago but sleep way already taking them both over.

Softly, Bruce brushed a hand through her hair and she began to stir.

"Are you watching me sleep?"

Bruce could smile and keep his eyes on her since her own remained shut.

"No,"

"Liar." Althea groaned as she slowly lifted herself up.

Bruce chuckled and lifted himself from the sofa himself.

"I better go home," Althea said as she checked her watch.

"Or you could stay?"

"I'll get a bad back."

Bruce gave a slight chuckle, "The bed is big enough, Ali."

Any other day, she would have decline or decided to go home but with the night already being in and the hospital being closer to Bruce's penthouse than her own home, she said yes.

Thankfully, Alfred had found her some of her own pajamas - one's she had left there the last time she had slept over - and some toiletries

There had been a leak in her apartment so Bruce offered her to stay with him - he said she could stay forever if she wanted to - but she only stayed until it was fixed.

It wasn't long until they had both brushed their teeth and climbed into bed. And, just like before, Bruce felt her fingers wrap around his wrist.

She was checking for his pulse.

"Thea?"

"Hhm?"

"I'm still here."

"Hm-mh."

"And I'm not going anywhere."

After that, Bruce pulled her closer to his chest.

Maybe, finally, they were passed being 'just friends'.

As the night turned to the morning and Alfred arrived at Bruce's room, he found him already stood getting dressed, fixing the cuffs of his shirt whilst Althea still slept in his bed. She hadn't moved at all during the night. Neither of them had.

"Let her sleep," Bruce told him.

"I take it I might be seeing a bit more of Thea?" Alfred lay the tray down.

Bruce smiled, fixing his other cuff. "It was late and I asked her to stay."

"Ah," Alfred replied as he stood back up. That was when he saw that all too familiar look on Bruce's face as he looked over to the bed.

Alfred had known Bruce's feelings towards Althea since the first time he saw them meet.

It had been in the hallways of Wayne Manor. Alfred had gone to fetch his own coat, leaving Althea in the hallway.

Bruce had been coming down the stairs when he spotted her, dressed in a summer dress with her hair (then) by her shoulders and her sunglasses and hat in her hands as she looked up to the old oil paintings on the walls.

He fell in love with her there and then.

She was beautiful.

And when he tried to run away from his meeting by going to the back exist of Wayne Tower and she was already there, leaning against the brick of the wall; he only fell further.

And now, even Alfred could see he was drowing in his feelings towards Althea.

"I suggest you tell her the truth until your heart gives it away for you."

"One day, Alfred." Bruce replied. "One day."

#bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #batman x reader #bruce x oc #bale!bruce wayne x oc #batman x oc #fe!oc #christian bale #bale!batman x oc #bruce wayne x oc #fluff #wounds #drowning in love #falling in love #love #fixing wounds #pure fluff #little bit of angst #feelings #emotions #kisses #one bed trope #friends to lovers #strangers to friends to lovers #just friends #friends or something more

[ilovemenoverfifty]

Copybat Ch. 1

Bale!Bruce Wayne x Trans!OC

(Victoria October is a canon trans woman in the Batman comics, although I know nothing about her. My oc only shares a name and the fact she's trans) Disclaimer: I've only seen the Dark Knight Trilogy and the plot is solely based off of that and my own ideas. I hope y'all like how I captured Bruce Wayne. This is set in the time of "The Dark Knight"

Ever since reports of the Batman, the controversy, and the good he’s done for Gotham, Victoria has been full on obsessed. She’s not just any fan of his either. She’s studied his actions, methods, and ideals. Victoria understands the character of the Batman under the mask. 

There are times when the real Batman isn’t there, though, and people need him. Sure, there have been Batman copycats, but she’s going to rise above them. Victoria will be the second Batman that Gotham needs.

For days on end, she would lock herself in her home office, building her suit, 3D printing her cowl, crafting her weapons, and choosing how to present herself. Victoria doesn’t have the body of the Batman, but she can make herself look and sound masculine enough to appear as a male. Days turn into weeks until she’s finally completed the armour and costume.

Other than crafting, she’s been on autopilot, doing the bare minimum to take care of herself. She was completely focused on this project.

It was the first day back to her normal life and Victoria decided to start off strong. Before heading to work, she had worked out and she was on her way to a coffee shop. A larger man bumps into her, slamming her into a wall.

“Hey! Watch it you asshole!!” She almost screams at him, not noticing his size. Victoria’s eyes widen, noticing how much taller than her he is. She’s by no means short, but this man was almost twice her height.

“The fuck didja just call me?” He asks, punching her in the face, sending her harder into the wall and pulling her by her shirt collar. She’s frozen in fear, trying to get someone’s attention. A few people give her sympathetic looks, but no one does anything to help.

“Nothing, I’m sorry,” She squeaks. The thug stares her down for a quick second.

“Got any money on you?” Victoria nods, pulling her wallet out of her blazer pocket. She fumbles through the cash she has.

“How much?” She barely whispers.

“Just gimme the wallet and I’ll forget this happened.” He snatches the wallet from her hand, throws her back, hard, causing her to black out for a minute. When she comes to, her mind is racing a million miles a minute, unable to focus on or hear anything. She had been so confident about her fighting skills before, so why couldn’t she fight back now?

 After what seemed like hours, she heard a voice trying to get her attention.

“Are you okay?” He asks. She comes back to reality when she clearly hears a snap of two fingers. In front of her, a familiar concerned man who she couldn’t quite place in her current mental state. The two are in an alley and he’s holding her up as if he were a crutch.

“Yeah…um,” She holds her head with one hand. “I think.”

“I called an ambulance, it should be on its way.”

“No, no,” Victoria shakes her head, moving to stand up straight. Getting slammed into the wall left a nasty bruise on her shoulders and she sucks her teeth when she feels the pain. “You didn’t have to.”

“You have a concussion and need treatment.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” She insists, shaking her head. “I’m fine…”

“I need you to follow my finger with your eyes. Can you do that?” He asks, ignoring her denial. Victoria nods. “Tell me if you get a headache while doing so.” He moves his hand back and forth, and she follows it for a few seconds. Her head starts to hurt a lot, and it shows on her face. “Alright, I’ll stop. Do you remember your name?”

“Of course I remember my name,” She chuckles slightly. “It’s um…” She thinks for a minute. “Victoria… I think.”

“Alright, Victoria… Do you at least have someone you can call?”

“My boss is gonna kill me…” She groans, hardly in the right state of mind. “I need to let him know… that I won’t be in today…”

“Victoria, look at me,” He gently commands. She does so, only now realising who’s helping her.

“You’re… Bruce Wayne…” She points at him.

“That’s right,” He nods. “And I’m taking you to the hospital where you’ll get treatment for your concussion. I need you to stay awake.” Victoria is hardly listening, trying her best to stay conscious.

“You know my boss,” Her thoughts are few and far between.

“Who’s your boss? I need you to stay awake.” He asks, trying to keep her conscious, genuinely worried about her health. She gives him a blank stare for a minute.

“Lucius…Fox….I think.” Victoria’s words are slurred. 

“Alright. I’ll talk to him. The paramedics are here. They’re going to help you.” Her world is going dark as she hears the faint sound of an ambulance siren in her ears. until she blacks out again.

#bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne #christian bale #christian bale batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x oc #batman x oc #bale!bruce wayne x reader #men over 50 #fanfic #dc comics #original character #the dark knight #batman begins #alfred pennyworth #the dark knight trilogy #dark knight rises