#battinson tries to socialize

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal

(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)

Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.

He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.

So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.

But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League

It starts out with a friendly visit :)

Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.

He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.

It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.

“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”

Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.

Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.

Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”

“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.

But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.

She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.

Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.

And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.

Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.

They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.

Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?

If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.

They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!

So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.

But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem

Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.

And “make friends?” They’re all masked

But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham

(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)

And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.

Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.

They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.

And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.

Not all of them are appreciated.

Attempt #1: “Making Friends”

After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.

Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?

Write A Mission Statement

What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.

And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.

To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.

Every turn, he is argued with.

“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”

Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”

Bruce already regrets joining.

All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.

“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”

Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.

The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)

But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)

Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.

He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.

That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.

Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.

Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.

He is the youngest by ten years.

Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.

So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.

And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.

He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?

But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤

(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)

The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.

One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”

Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”

One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”

Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.

(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)

Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.

God, he just wants to go home.

Why is he doing this again?

Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends

The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.

He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)

“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”

Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”

Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.

One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.

Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.

In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.

A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.

(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)

And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.

He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.

It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)

And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad

So they stop moaning and groaning

Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!

Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??

One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.

(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)

(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)

Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”

Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.

(He likes older men.)

(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)

(Sue me.)

(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)

(Coward.)

One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.

They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)

One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier

“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.

(The answer is yes.)

A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.

In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??

Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.

They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.

Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”

Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”

The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board

Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.

A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.

Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.

And, of course, they play FMK at some point.

(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)

During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:

Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:

He tried

Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?

The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.

Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.

Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.

But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—

Takes off his cowl.

And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.

Then, “Oh fuck.”

(That was Green Lantern.)

Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.

He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.

The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”

The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.

He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)

“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.

Meanwhile, the others are like—

Oh. My. God.

Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.

And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.

Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.

Sue her.

They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF

And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)

He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”

The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”

No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies

They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.

(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)

They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:

(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)

At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”

Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.

Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.

For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.

After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”

Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”

They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.

(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)

Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.

But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.

They learned a lot about their friend that night.

And they have a lot of bets to cash in.

FIN

Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)

Hey bestie @bruciemilf

#battinson tries to socialize #Bruce: i never want to be in a meeting room for the rest of my life JL: we will be so bad at running a business Bruce: wait no please #battinson is a shivering little chihuahua in a sweater #he physically cannot let them fail #he's just like me fr #battinson needs a hug #he tries so hard #battinson socializes and actually succeeds #batman #bruce wayne #battinson #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #dc universe #gotham #soft bruce wayne #justice league #jl #dc #superman #wonder woman #lex luthor #the flash #green arrow #plastic man #aquaman #green lantern #captain marvel dc #martian manhunter

[bruciemilf]

One thing I wanna do more is include Battinson's complete lack of filter.

That scene at the funeral where Falcone tried to push that 'your father saved me for a reason' fantasy, which Bruce ended very quickly with his '' He took the Hippocratic oath" line

It can sure read as snarky, and in some parts, it was, -- Falcone's antourage surely saw it as that, -- but Bruce was completely serious.

It wasn't a diplomatic move on his part, but that's why it works. 'No filter' doesn't generally entail being rude and bold, it's your thoughts being faster than your mouth without considering how it'd sound out loud

Not to mention, Bruce wouldn't process sarcasm the same as everyone else. He's good at dishing it, for sure, but we've seen he's completely oblivious to obvious social ques,

If somebody were to be like, " haha maybe YOU'RE batman" him, the go to reaction would be " haha good one"

Bruce? Would start shaking on the spot. It's raining nerves out here. " No I'm not." With a blank face, " I'm not. I'm scared of bats. I hate bats. I wish bats never existed. I wish YOU never existed. Im sorry. Goodbye." Before taking off in a hurry.

#i dont really know where i was going with this just that bruce is surprisingly not as polished with dealing with media as i thought hed be #he's a good liar except when he needs it and i think they'd take advantage of it lol. but -- i think it comes up in other circumstances too #for exemple bruce is bad at feelings but he's good at communication maybe? let me show you what i mean #dick age 10 drawing a family portrait: here b!! you have pink hair cause i ran outta black :D do you like it #bruce: its very ugly. i love it #dick: :( #bruce: i do love it. it doesn't need to be pretty. you put lots of effort into it and you thought about alfred and i. just because it's not #perfect doesn't mean it's worthless. thank you #dick: :D #bruce has it framed in his office #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #batman #battinson #the batman #batman 2022 #dcu

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

ARE YOU KIDDING?? PLATONIC YANDERE BATTINSON HEADCANNONS PULEASE 💕 💕

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒…

!!! GN reader, stalking, breaking and entering, hidden cameras, kidnapping, I feel really bad for Alfred…

Sorry if this is egregiously long and disorderly, I just have a lot of ideas with this one.

There’s a possibility the two of you barely know each other. Maybe you’re a worker at Wayne Enteprises, or just a stranger on the street who did a kind gesture to him once. He’s the type to get a friend-crush — where he wants to be your friend, but he’s too shy to actually talk to you — so naturally the next logical step is to follow you around all day to figure out where you live. This would honestly be the longest Bruce Wayne has ever been out in public during the daytime, granted in his Chevy Corvette.

(Alfred would probably start to get worried, seeing as Bruce always tries to return to the mansion as quickly as possible.)

I don’t think it would surprise anyone to know this man is a heavy stalker. He knows virtually everything about you, from your social security number to how often you brush your teeth. His journal even has a diagram of every freckle and blemish he knows about on your body, just in case he needs to identify your remains some day (he has a very grim outlook on the fate of everyone who enters his life). I’d like to imagine him having a separate journal for you, just to keep tabs on how you’re doing.

Hidden cameras around your house are a must. With his nightly obligations as The Batman, he unfortunately can’t stop by your window to make sure you’re safe as often as he’d want to, so he finds himself remotely checking in on you more than being there in person. If it makes you feel any better, he has the same exact set-up in Alfred’s room. It just makes him feel more at ease to have quick visual access to two of the most important people to him in his life.

Naturally, in order to install these cameras, he’d have to break into your house when you’re not there. This would turn into something he does on the regular, possibly even while you sleep. I at first felt like he may take a few keepsakes from your house as he does this, but I think it’s more likely he’d leave things behind for you instead. Maybe a generous amount of cash, new appliances to replace broken ones, refills of food you were running low on… who knew that The Batman was like the tooth fairy?

God, I have so many ideas, but a lot of them actually focus on Alfred. Bruce is the type to kidnap his new “friend” very early on, driving by his fear and anxiety of something happening to you. He’d obviously see nothing wrong with this; I mean, the guy stalks you and breaks into your hours, why the hell would this be out of the question? So, that got me thinking… how would Alfred react to this?

I wish I had a clear answer… but, again, I have so many ideas, and it’s hard to put fully flesh them out in a clear and concise way. But I’ll try to give you the bare bones, and possibly clarify should there be a follow-up ask.

Idea 1.) Bruce actually tells Alfred he kidnapped you. Well, maybe he’d say something more on the lines of, “I had to save them, I had no other choice,” but Alfred’s a smart man who easily reads between the lines. Hell, maybe Alfred’s had his suspicions for the longest time, walking in on Bruce watching your security feed or discovering his separate journal about you, but the butler tried to rationalize this, as he didn’t want to believe his young master was up to… whatever this weird shit was.

(I can actually see him confronting Bruce about his behaviors a couple of times, and even considering bringing this up to a professional, but that’s beside the point.)

Anyways, back to Bruce holding your unconscious form in his arms. He’d ask Alfred if a room could be prepared for you, his tone eerily casual considering the situation, and the poor butler has to put on his best calm act and convince Bruce to take you back home. While I don’t see him getting through to Bruce, there’s a small chance that he does, and you wake up in your own bed the next morning blissfully ignorant to your own almost-successful kidnapping (all thanks to the butler).

(Now I’m thinking about Bruce holding you up to Alfred like, “can we keep them??” And Alfred has to be like, “no, Master Bruce. Put them back where you got them from.”)

From here on, Alfred decides to try and herd Bruce’s strange obsession with you on his own, too scared to get professional help involved. There’s no way in hell he’s getting his young master taken away from him; not after he vowed to keep him safe to the late Thomas and Martha Wayne. And besides, Alfred did manage to convince Bruce to take you home in the end, so surely that means there’s still hope, right? He hasn’t failed his responsibility just yet…

Of course, as I said before, I don’t see Alfred getting through to Bruce in the end. It’s hard to say what Alfred would even do at this point. Maybe he threatens to call the authorities, which would hurt Bruce enough to feel the need to run away. This would start a huge manhunt for “the runaway billionaire” who “snapped under all the stress” (Alfred made sure to neglect telling police about him also being a kidnapper, instead framing it as though Bruce was going through some sort of mental breakdown).

Don’t even get me started on how confusing this would be for you, LMAO. Imagine going to sleep one night, only to wake up in some sort of abandoned apartment complex with Bruce Wayne of all people. That sounds like a fun story to write, not gonna lie.

Idea 2.) Bruce doesn’t say anything to Alfred and instead keeps you in one of the spare bedrooms. It doesn’t take long for the butler to stumble upon you, narrowly missing the lamp you swing at him as you make your escape. Since you aren’t familiar with the mansion’s layout, however, you find yourself aimlessly running through the halls, and eventually into the chest of a confused Bruce Wayne, who just came out of the Batcave. As Bruce practically drags you back to your room, he runs into a disheveled Alfred, who obviously wants an explanation.

“This is my friend,” Bruce simply answers, a hint of fondness in his gruff voice. “I had to save them, so I brought them back here.”

Now, as I said previously, Alfred probably has had his suspicions for the longest time. So seeing you trying desperately to weasel out of Bruce’s grip mad him realize what his young master had really done. Like with the first idea, Alfred will try to calmly explain why this was wrong, making eye contact with your pleading gaze. But I think this conversation would go south quicker, since Bruce is much less willing to give you up now that you’re settled in. I can see him starting to tear up cuz yandere Battison is lowkey a manchild, I don’t make the rules, begging Alfred to let you stay.

This is the route where Alfred might feel it’s better to comply, at least temporarily. You’re a live hostage in this situation, and the stress of that is too much to make a definitive decision in the moment… and it doesn’t help that Bruce was starting to get erratic. So, he hesitantly relents, trying to ignore the hurt look in your eyes as you’re dragged back to your room.

Remember, this is only a temporary solution. Alfred could never live with the idea of Bruce doing this, and I can see him continuing to do his very best to convince his young master to let you go. Perhaps he may have to take matters into his own hands, helping you escape behind Bruce’s back…

Idea 3.) I’m keeping this one short and sweet; what if Alfred is just as much as a hostage as you are? Remember that Bruce cares just as much for his butler as he does for you, so it’s highly likely that he never lets Alfred leave the mansion either…

#❥ CALL INCOMING: DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES? #❥ TW: YANDERE #❥ YANDERE CHARACTER #❥ PLATONIC YANDERE #❥ YANDERE BRUCE WAYNE #❥ YANDERE BATTINSON #❥ YANDERE BRUCE WAYNE X READER #❥ YANDERE BATTINSON X READER #❥ GN READER

[wetratheadcanons]

some battinson headcanons cause i still think about him almost a year later but 60% is actually just me projecting onto him

is autistic (obviously), but also has adhd

he also deals with intrusive thoughts, it's why his no-kill-policy is so important to him

loves video games, obscure internet lore and horror - especially analog horror and found footage

his favourite games are project deepweb, he solved it in just a little under 2 hours, and vampyr, he always plays the pacifist run despite it being harder

has a whole wall dedicated to the five nights at freddy's lore, scott cawthorne might be his biggest enemy

absolute animal magnet despite being kinda terrified of all of them

can't go anywhere that has animals because they're immediately flocking to him

the whole "introvert at a party finds the dog" - situation but instead the dog finds bruce and refuses to leave

ace was the first animal bruce wasn't ever really scared of, alfred thinks he may have been trained to be a psychiatric service dog prior to his adoption

wherever bruce is in the tower, ace isn't far away, his presence calms bruce

prefers loud music, he doesn't like being alone in his head too much and the noise helps him

apart from nirvana and my chemical romance, his favourite bands are ghost and ice nine kills because he likes their consistent themes

selina gifted him a pair of pink cat-ear headphones once and they're the only pair he ever wears at home

he claims it's just because they're comfortable but everyone knows it's because he loves them

eats when he's hungry but rarely at specific times, it doesn't make sense to him

he can't really eat after waking up

doesn't eat meat, he feels like it lies too heavy in his stomach

he also doesn't like the smell of cooked meats or fish

he loves sour fruits and has a mild sweet tooth

has a caffeine addiction but he doesn't like the taste of coffee, prefers black and green tea (to alfred's delight) and energy drinks (to alfred's horror)

he's trans ftm who is either gay or bi with a preference for men (he doesn't know and doesn't care to find out)

selina and him never went further than their kiss, bruce will always put gotham before anything else (until dick comes along) and selina needs a freedom that he can't give her

they also both realised it was a spur of the moment thing since they barely knew each other at that time and found they're better off friends

they're co-parenting a kitten though it's adorable really

bruce found her half dead on patrol one night and called selina in a panic about what to do, they named her chewy

ace loves chewy, she sleeps on his head, bruce has an entire folder on his phone dedicated to pictures of them

had a robin hood phase when he was 6, tried to steal from his parents to give to people in need

alfred continually reminds him of this after he takes in dick

his favourite rogue is ivy, they have important conversations (as in ivy talks and bruce hngs) about climate change while bruce tries to stop her from murder

he implements policies build after her ideals into wayne enterprise

his respect for her rises after she gets together with harley

for all that he fights it, he can't sleep without the sound of gotham - which includes gotham typical crime

he thrives when he's alone, it's how he does his best work, be it batman or wayne enterprise

has trouble admitting defeat, dick joining him as robin helped him in that department a great deal

is pierced. he did almost all of them himself, alfred has a heart attack everytime he spots a new one

the public has a weird badboy image of him, bruce has no idea where it came from

doesn't bruise easily but is still constantly in pain

has an absolute shit posture, social anxiety and crime fighting don't help

sleeps in the worst positions humanly possible

has a weird thing about mirrors, avoids them as much as he can

doesn't give interviews ever, it's part being a social recluse, part everything the press did to his parents, part hating to be perceived

has troubles with empathy, but his compassion makes up for it in great detail

dick uses him as a jungle gym, he pretends to be annoyed but secretly loves it

when bruce is working on cases in the cave, dick hangs head down off of bruce's back with his legs over bruce's shoulders

dick claims it helps him think, bruce knows it's because he doesn't want to be alone

bruce loves the relationship dick and selina have, might be a little jealous that cat got through to the boy much faster than him though

after taking in dick, bruce makes sure to show alfred that he actually does see him as a father figure - regrets all the times he told him that alfred's not his father

that's all i have for now

#the batman #bruce wayne #battinson #bruce wayne headcanon #headcanons #platonic batcat #dick grayson #batman #dc comics #catwoman #the batman 2022 #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #battinson headcanons

[angelltheninth]

Can I humbly ask for kiss 48. with Battinson and a female reader?

You may ask and you shall humbly get Anon.

Pairing: Battinson x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, nervous kisses, nervous Bruce Wayne, gentleman Bruce Wayne

Word count: 0.6k

Ao3

A/N: More Battinson fluff is always good for the soul.

48. kisses with trembling lips

Bruce was never the most... social guy you've ever met. In fact when you first met he barely spared you a few words. He was rather closed off, always in a hurry, almost avoiding the spotlight. Which is pretty hard considering he was a Wayne after all and there were certain things expected of him.

But you persisted and started to chip away at the shield around his heart little by little. Now you even manage to get a smile out of him, which by some is considered impossible.

You almost thought it was a joke when Bruce asked you out to dinner. Only Bruce Wayne doesn't make jokes, so it couldn't be that. A dream maybe? It wouldn't be the first time you dreamt about him. Although he's not usually so nervous in those so the only option left was that this was real.

The whole time Bruce tried to play it off as thanks for doing such a good job at your workplace.

"Are you sure this is just dinner? Or are you trying to bribe me to come work for you? Bribes wouldn't look too good for you Bruce." You give him a teasing smile as you look over the menu. The place was damn expensive.

Bruce shakes his head in amusement, "No such thing. And if I was I wouldn't be so obvious about it."

"Good to know. I'll look for other signs then." Bruce hides his laugh behind his hand as the waiter comes over to your table. To Bruce's credit he had started going out more than usual, no longer the quite the mysterious, shut-in billionaire he once was.

That being said he still kept his secrets, you knew. Well maybe he'll open up to you in time. This was only your first official date after all.

Ever the gentleman Bruce offered to walk you home, even offering you his arm to hold if you wanted to. It was sweet, especially when you saw the little blush appear on his cheeks for a moment.

You could see wheels turning in his head when he walked you to the door, his eyes shifting to it and then back to you.

"I... this was nice." He pressed his lips together, "Thank you for indulging me tonight. I'd like to do this again."

"Well you certainly know how to treat a lady. But perhaps something a little more active next time?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Get your mind out of the gutter Bruce!" You barely stifle a laugh, "I meant dancing."

"Oh! Right. Of course. I would love to. Not much of a dancer though, I'm afraid." He gave a small smile and a shrug.

"I'm sure you're a fast learner." His smile widens, eyes shimmering with sudden glee.

"You have no idea." The deeper tone of his voice caught you off guard along with sending some... pleasant tingles up your spine, making your cheeks flushed. Bruce seemed to have seen this as he was suddenly back to his normal self, clearing his throat, "Uh... I'll call you then, is that alright?" His hand reached for yours, bringing it close to his lips before he paused.

You felt Bruce's warm breath on your skin, only making your blush deeper. When you looked closer you saw that his lips were shaking. God, he was nervous about kissing your hand! Could he be more adorable. He glanced at you briefly, waiting for you to nod, and only then did his lips make contact with the back of your hand. His kiss was a little prickly due to his stubble but his lips were soft, much softer than you expected, and warm.

"Until then." He gave you another small smile as he let go of your hand, disappearing down the street.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #the batman #the batman imagine #the batman x reader #batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #battinson #battinson x reader #battinson imagine #dc #dc imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson fanfiction #robert pattinson imagine

[audreycritter]

pls tell us more about ur headcanons for battinson acquiring a robin 👀🥺

oh YES. here we go:

-i think bruce starts to engage in Society and this means galas, parties, and dates, while he's cleaning up the renewal fund

-he takes a date to the circus, and immediately forgets her when the graysons fall. all he can see is Dick Grayson, eyes wide, watching from the shadows. she has to get another ride home

-he doesn't just vanish with Dick. i think he leaps the barricade and gets Dick to stop staring.

-He sticks like glue to Dick's side. he doesn't just take him home-- he's there for hours, through the police tape, the statements. the circus is cleared out, and he stays there. Dick barely notices him until Bruce cuts in to stop a police officer from questioning him again.

-Dick wants to see the bodies and Bruce fights for him to get to see them one more time. He understands.

-The police are confused about what to do with Dick-- the circus aren't bio family, they can't seem to find anyone, and the fallback plan is social services until they can track down relatives for Dick.

-Dick vanishes

-Bruce and Pop Haley find him with the elephants. Bruce says he'll take him home, because this version of Bruce was traumatized by Riddler's orphanage trauma, and he can't watch that happen to someone else-- even if the orphanage isn't even there anymore.

-Haley urges Dick to go with him, because he knows about the corruption and is afraid for Dick.

-Bruce basically just tells the police he's taking Dick home. He bullshits a lie about Dick being a distant relative and nobody wants to challenge him.

-Dick is shellshocked for a day or two and then spends the next week attempting to run away, not to the circus, but to find the men he overheard threatening his parents

-He gets as far as inner Gotham once and Batman finds him on a very high roof. Bruce's panic is not insignificant.

-Dick immediately tries to bargain with Batman into helping him find and kill the men. Batman refuses, and Dick has a savage, trauma and grief-fueled breakdown on him. Batman takes him back to the Manor and Alfred.

-Bruce returns via the cave. Dick takes about two seconds to identify the blooming bruise he left on Bruce's cheek. He's figured it out.

-Dick, when not running away, is a mess-- he's having crying fits, sullen and withdrawn periods, or manic hyper and climbing everything and talking constantly. Bruce is getting him to eat, listening when he talks, and holding him when he cries. Dick does not seem to understand personal space, and Bruce is letting him set the boundary lines. If Dick wants to climb on his back or hang from his neck, then Dick gets to do that.

-Dick has decided Batman will help capture the men and Tony Zucco. He needs a costume for this. Batman agrees to let him ride in the car, that's it. It's also going to be CAPTURE, not murder, Dick.

-Dick does not stay in the car.

-Dick does not murder anyone but he's pretty close.

-Dick announces the next morning that he can't wait to see who they capture next.

-Bruce has a child now. It's too late to back out.

-The child keeps falling asleep on his shoulder.

-Alfred has Opinions until he sees Dick on the trapeze equipment Bruce installs for him.

-There is no normal way for Dick Grayson to burn off his energy, and having a way to help people is beating back the withdrawn grief.

-Robin becomes a fixture beside Batman. Most of what he does is non-violent helping, but he can hold his own in a fight.

-Bruce eats a lot more ice cream.

-Bruce's playlist shuffle now has MCR and the The Fox What Does the Fox Say and Baby Shark.

-Baby Bruce Doot Doot Doo Doo

-Baby Dick Doot Doot Doot

-Brucester that isn't even how it goes you're doing it wrong

[hetheyussy]

autistic battinson hcs because i love him and i will die on this hill

• stims by stretching his hands out all the way and curling them up into fists whenever he's happy

• safe food is fruit and that's why it's all alfred makes him for breakfast

• either gives the 90 yard batman stare when talking to people or looks at the floor when talking to people

• mostly nonverbal as bruce and that's why he doesn't know what to say as batman

• special interests are auto-mechanics and zoro

• tries to detective his way through social interactions and ends up thinking about it way too hard and ends up completely missing social cues

• hums and rocks whenever he's about to have a meltdown

• batsuit is a big compression blanket for him

• only eats and takes showers after alfred gives him a specific time and reward for doing so

#autistic bruce wayne #bruce wayne headcanon #battinson #robert pattinson #the batman #the batman movie

[gangrenados]

battinson's reaction to his partner getting pregnant?

•He'd be scared, speechless, to wrap it up Bruce wouldn't know what to do.

•It takes him a while to process what you said and that there's a baby growing inside of you.

•You notice he's shocked and it scares you that the Batman doesn't have a solution nor a reaction to what's happening.

•You two need to pull each other out of your surprise and get to talk what's going to happen.

•Bruce fears that the life that he has will affect the baby, but not even that, he's scared he might not be the best father for a child.

•After a while of stumbling over his words and complete and uncomfortable silence he'll confess you that.

•Quickly followed by saying that he'll support your decision.

•If you decide to keep the baby then Bruce will put the money to give this kid the best of the best. Education, food, clothes, a fee classes of fighting techniques and strategies. You name it.

•Bruce also tries to be there for you and be more than a monetary support, he tries to be there emotionally even if it's a bit awkward at the beginning.

He's not that good with social interactions, but he does tries because he wants you to feel cared for and loved.

•This is the same if in the contrary you decide to get an abortion.

•Bruce will get you to the most qualified clinic he can get and ask for the best treatment for you.

•He'll try his best to be there by your side your whole recovery and be your emotional support, a shoulder to cry on or just someone to vent whatever comes to your mind.

•Whatever you decide Bruce will be there for you.

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Get lost with me (Bruce Wayne)

Pairing: Battinson!Bruce Wayne X F!Reader

Summary: Parties aren't Bruce's thing, so when he sees you, an old friend, at a charity event he takes you somewhere more private.

Warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe kids. assume bc is involved in this situation), creampie, chocking, light hairpulling, cursing. Mentions of Bruce being taller than reader, mentions of reader having hair long enough to pull. Very brief mentions of sexual harrassment (NOT from Bruce), spoiler free!

WC: 5.3k sorry not sorry

A/N: took me long enough to write smut for battinson. This deadass took me days to finish but im honestly kinda proud of it. I'm still getting the hang of this Bruce so don't judge me too hard on his characterization.

PS: Battinson requests are still open, so feel free, I promise I'll get to them eventually

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

If there was something Bruce has always absolutely hated was this, fancy parties where Gotham's most elite would gather. He never really saw himself as one of those people. I mean sure, he alone was probably one of the richest men in the world, and it would seem like such a first world problem to anyone else other than him. Because who wouldn't want this? He knew half of Gotham would tear him apart if it meant being in his position for just a night. But to him this was only a superficial part of society. The fancy parties only the important people could attend were only a facade, and it meant nothing to him. He could actually be doing something to benefit the city of Gotham out there. But no, he was stuck here, all night, at some charity event surrounded by people who on the outside looked like high class, but who in reality were dirtier than half of Gotham's thugs. He had Alfred to thank for this one. He practically forced him out of the manor. It would be good to show his face at least once a year, he would say to Bruce. Though from what he knew, this time the host of said charity wasn't a mob boss or a dirty politician putting up the front of charity just to launder their dirty money. He knew this charity was for a good cause so he supposed it wasn't all so horrible.

Still he hated the fact that he had to be here to begin with. He wasn't exactly one to associate and socialize with everyone. Sure, he was a man with manners, he would politely reciprocate any greetings or small talk he would receive. And he would respond to the occasional "Mr. Wayne" being called out. But his head wasn't fully in it, and he would do his best to excuse himself from any conversation anyone tried to start with him, in the most polite way possible of course. And he had accomplished to isolate himself to a more solitary area of the ballroom. But as much as he was not at all interested to engage in the party, he remained vigilant of his surroundings. He took note of anyone he recognized and made himself a mental note of those who he didn't or had just met. And he was blissfully surprised to finally find a familiar face that he didn't mind seeing. You.

"Truly Miss L/N, it would be my pleasure to host you— and your father of course, in my home. Maybe then you could speak to me more about this wonderful charity of yours." Some man, you couldn't even bother to remember his name or who he was, spoke to you as you stood by the bar, leaning uncomfortably close to you as he did. This is exactly why you hated events like these. This was exactly where middle aged high class men would come to gravitate towards the daughter of one of Gotham's most important businessmen. It was nauseating really, the way they almost preyed on someone young enough to be their daughter.

"If you wish to know more about the charity you should speak with my father, he is the one running it. I am just an intern at the hospital the donations are going to." You spoke with disinterest, but with a surprisingly believable fake smile on your face. The man laughed, you didn't even know why. You had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes and you simply drowned your distaste in your alcoholic drink, hoping the kick of it would give you enough willpower to deal with this for the rest of the night.

"Well if I may, I would love to know more about the hospital I'm so graciously giving so much money to, and since you work there, you would be the perfect person to give me more insight, wouldn't you agree?" The man moved closer to you, way too close for your liking and he rested his hand on top of yours. Your eyes unconsciously went wide and your face turned into a disgusted expression. Nope absolutely fucking not.

"Sir uhm I'm sorry I—" you were about to excuse yourself and move away as far away from the man as you possibly could when you spotted a familiar face right over his shoulder. You couldn't hold back the smile that formed on your lips when you saw him. "Bruce?"

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe Bruce Wayne was actually there. You couldn't remember the last time you saw him. It had been maybe four years if you remembered correctly. You definitely weren't expecting to see him here tonight. You knew very well that he felt the same way you did about these events. He didn't care for them, and he actually had the choice to decline. So to say that his presence was a surprise to you was an understatement. But it was a very blissful surprise to say the least. You were particularly fond of Bruce, and he was of you. In more ways that either of you ever wanted to admit.

You excused yourself and went straight to Bruce. You hugged him without hesitation, pulling him down to your height by his neck. And surprisingly he reciprocated the action. He placed his hand on the small of your back, his fingers touched your bare skin since the dress you wore was low cut from the back. It gave you slight goosebumps. Ten maybe fifteen seconds went by before you pulled away. And suddenly you had forgotten how tall this man was compared to you. You had to tilt your head up and he had to look almost all the way down for your eyes to actually meet. And as much as you hated to admit, he looked good. His dark hair was longer than the last time you saw him, it fell right over his eyes, as much as he probably tried to gel the strands in place. You kinda liked it. But for some reason something felt different. Something in his eyes. You always knew Bruce was a troubled man, that he had a lot of things that still haunted him, even in his adulthood. But there was a certain coldness in his pale blue eyes, like something else was tormenting him now.

"I honestly can't believe you're here. It is so nice to see you." You smiled, it was so hard to contain your excitement. He always had that effect on you for some reason.

"And you," he smiled, or well, his version of it, his lips were slightly curved upwards, but it was very subtle, it looked more like a grin. He was also eyeing you just you had more seconds ago. You felt hot under his gaze. "It has been a while since we've last seen each other. May I say that you look quite beautiful tonight? Not that you don't usually look beautiful of course, you look as beautiful as I remembered." He chuckled softly, his hair slightly fell over his eyes as he looked down at you a bit sheepishly. This, this was exactly why you were so attracted to him. Because of his charm that would often come out as genuinely awkward but still well intended.

"Oh.. well, thank you," you bit your lip shyly and looked down, very visibly flustered, "You don't look so bad yourself Mr. Wayne. I'm quite fond of the new look, it suits you." If only you could see each other, you must've looked quite pathetic to the rest, standing there looking at each other like two teenagers in a hallway. Clearly that must've been it because you heard a very audible cough and someone clearing their throat, a bit too loud to just be an accident. You turned around to find the creepy older man from a couple of minutes ago standing there with a hard expression, like he was genuinely undignified. You looked back at Bruce, purposely widening your eyes as a cry for help, hoping he would get the hint.

"Senator. Bruce Wayne. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Bruce stepped beside you and introduced himself, as if he even needed to, and stuck out his hand for, the senator you guessed, to shake, his face quickly turning into a serious scowl. The man looked at Bruce for a second.

"Ah.. Yes, Mr. Wayne, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I hear that's quite difficult nowadays." The Senator said with a concedencing tone as he eyed Bruce up and down with a nasty look. Bruce had the urge to just break the old man's hand, he was very tempted to. But he simply nodded and pulled his hand away and remained at your side.

"Of course, I don't usually have the time to make it to these events unfortunately. But I am glad I made it to this one." He said, the corner of his lip tugged into a half grin as he caught a glimpse of you when he said it. "But anyway, I hope I didn't interrupt anything. I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I stole Miss Y/N for a little while. That wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

"Actually," the Senator looked between you and Bruce, clearly unhappy with the request, but if there was something he didn't need was to piss off Gotham's richest man since Bruce could easily terminate his political career with just one call, so he sighed heavily, presumably having to swallow his pride and simply nodded with a fake smile, "not at all. I will leave you to it. Again, it was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wayne. And Miss L/N, I hope we speak soon, and I hope you think about my offer."

"Of course Senator. Enjoy the party." You spoke through gritted teeth and a forced smile before Bruce gently took your arm and led you away to a more secluded corner of the ballroom where you could speak freely. Once you were out of most people's eyesight, you shuddered and slightly shuddered your shoulders, almost as if you were shaking off the disgust. "Fucking creepy old man. Jesus Christ."

"What was that all about?" Bruce asked with a small frown on his face and his lips were in a flat line.

"I don't even know. I was at the bar minding my business and avoiding people, as one does, and that creepy fuck came up to me and started inviting me to his mansion, to his yatch, to his office to talk about the hospital and his donations." You scrunched up your face in disgust and shook your head, "had you not showed up he probably would've kept touching me all night. You're my hero."

"You know, I could accidentally spill very red wine on his expensive suit. Or break his hand, or every other bone in his body, anything you want." His voice was low, slightly lower than it usually was. You knew he could fight, that he was trained in every form of self defense possible. But his quiet and calm demeanor didn't strike you as the violent type. So hearing him say that made you look at him with wide eyes. "I'm kidding. For the most part."

You raised an eyebrow at him and leaned closer to him, suddenly a not so public appropriate idea popped in your head, "were you kidding about the part of doing anything I want?"

"No."

"Is that why you're here tonight? I know damn well you aren't one for fancy events like these. And to be honest I didn't even know you were back in Gotham." You questioned him. Last you heard he had been traveling around Europe for the last few years, and it was very rare for him to ever leave the manor now that he was home. So most people didn't even know he was back in the city, you included.

He gave you a slight shrug, "perhaps I was hoping to find you here. I knew your father was hosting the event, and I thought you would be as well, since you work at the hospital now." He explained with a shrug, "Alfred also might've been a contributing factor. He basically forced me to come. You know these events mean nothing to me."

You laughed softly and nodded, playfully shoving his shoulder, "well I'm glad he did. I have to say that Gotham felt pretty boring without you around." Bruce chuckled, if only you knew.

"Are you trying to say that you missed me?" Now he was questioning you, he raised an eyebrow and had a playful grin on his face. He was leaning extremely close to you now, his chest was slightly touching your bare shoulder and you knew that if you looked in his direction, his face would be mere inches away from yours.

"What do you think, Mr. Wayne?” You dared to say. You felt your heart start to pound in your chest when you felt his warm breath fan right over your ear. You knew he was leaning down, he pressed two fingers to your jaw and made you look at him. And his face was in fact mere inches away from yours now. His pale blue eyes burned deep into your own with intensity. Twenty, maybe thirty seconds went by and he didn’t say a word. You saw the way his eyes flickered over your face, reading every part of it. He was always so observant, like he didn’t want to leave any part of you without analyzing.

“I think that, much like myself, this isn’t your kind of scene and you would very much like to get lost for a while. How am I doing so far?”

“Very observing Mr. Wayne, but you’re missing a very critical part of it.” You spoke barely above a whisper. He gave you a surprised hum and his lips parted ever so slightly.

“Unlikely, but please, enlighten me.”

“You’re missing the part where I want to get lost with you. Like we used to do when I was in college, remember?” Bruce laughed softly at the memory, or the idea of it.

“How could I forget? Your father was not very fond of me at the time.” He pointed out with a soft chuckle, the mention of it bringing memories of a time he enjoyed more than he would like to admit. It was a few years before he began his bat activities and before you left Gotham to go to med school, and truth was it was the best he had ever felt with anyone.

“And you blame him? You were fucking his daughter on every surface you could get your hands on.” You reminded him with a smirk of your own, remembering the many instances where you got caught by either one of your parents, or were pretty close to. To say that Bruce had to sneak out your third story window at the time more times than either of you could count was an understatement.

This sparked Bruce a semi smirk of his own, his pale cheeks turning inevitably pink at the mention, “is that what you would like me to do?” Your eyes shot up to meet him with a surprised expression, your face burning hot at the insinuation. Bruce was probably the most reserved and private man you have ever met, but sometimes it shocked you how perverted his mind could be.

“Perhaps. You know I don’t care for parties either.” You bit your lip, unconsciously looking around you, knowing nobody paid attention to your little conversation, but still wanted to make sure you weren’t drawing attention to yourselves in case you decided to get lost for a while.

Bruce, like the man of little words that he was, didn’t say another word, he simply matched your action of looking around to make sure there was no attention drawn to you before he stuck out his hand for you to take. You did so happily, and he led you through the ballroom, he noted a couple of heads turned in your direction as you did, but no one that he should worry about. It took him a second, but he found one of the many restrooms he had spotted when he arrived. He let you go in first, he waited back for a second, once again making sure you hadn’t drawn attention to yourself. Of course, nobody would say anything nor would try to stop you, but his hypervigilant mind would only be at ease if he made sure you weren’t being listened to. After a quick look in both directions of the long hall, he joined you inside, making sure to lock the door behind him. His lips quickly found yours and you were done for. Suddenly you were losing it for Bruce Wayne all over again. He grabbed your jaw and held it in place with one hand as he held you by your waist with the other. It was like no time had passed by, he kissed you with the same fervor and passion he did years ago. And you, of course, matched his energy perfectly. One of your hands rested on the back of his neck and pulled him down to your level as much as you could, needing to have him as close as possible.

He made you back up and didn’t stop until the back of your knees hit the large fancy vanity sink these restrooms usually had. When you did, he pinned you right between the sink and his own body, almost as if he wanted to make sure you had nowhere to go. Not like you’d go anywhere anyway. You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, with his hand on your jaw as he kissed you so hard it took your breath away. And he only pulled away to mimic his intensity on your exposed neck. His lips were so hot and wet on your skin it made you shiver.

“I must say, this is far more entertaining than some charity event,” you spoke breathlessly, your words faltering ever so slightly when you felt his lips latch on to your pulse.

“Agreed.” He hummed lowly, attaching his lips to the skin on your neck. You gasped softly, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Bruce, do not,” you warned, knowing damn well that would leave a mark that wouldn’t fade for days. You heard him chuckle against your skin, his lips lingering for another second or two before he pulled his head up to look at your face.

“All these years and you are still afraid of your father,” he mocked you, he had a straight face, but a corner of his lips was tugged into a small smug smirk. You glared at him.

“You know I hate it when you get all smug right?” You huffed softly, but your breath hitched in your throat when he gripped your jaw again and leaned down to your face.

“No you don’t.” He captured your lips into a kiss one more time before he turned you around without giving you much warning. You had to brace yourself on the vanity so you wouldn’t fall face first into it. Bruce was usually one to take his time, he wasn’t exactly used to getting this kind of intimacy and he liked to savor every minute of it in the rare instance that he did. But this once, he wanted to make quick work of the situation, so you wouldn’t risk getting interrupted. You didn’t mind though, it had been such a long time since you had been intimate with someone, let alone with him, you would take anything he gave you.

You couldn’t really see him, not even in the reflection of the large mirror in front of you, all you could see was the reflection of the top of his black hair. But you soon realized what he was doing when you felt his lips drag along your exposed spine and goosebumps rose in your skin. You gasped softly, the sudden touch catching you by surprise, but it was certainly welcomed. He left a string of kisses along your spine as a way to distract you from the journey his hand was making. And before you knew it, his fingers were dragging painfully slowly up your bare thigh. You could feel them get close to your clothed core, but he wasn’t doing anything.

“Bruce.” You whine softly, knowing he was stalling just to tease you.

“Yes love?” The nickname rolled off his tongue with a gravely low voice that always drove you insane. You whined again.

“Touch me.”

You didn’t have to say it twice. Your panties were torn off so fast you thought he ripped the material. Before you could complain about your possibly ruined piece of clothing, he spat between two of his fingers and pressed them right against your entrance. A quiet moan got caught in your throat when you felt his fingers slowly move up to your clit, spreading the wetness over the bud. He rubbed slow circles over your clit, dragging it out until he could hear your uneven and quickened breaths and only then he pushed both digits into you. It was slow and dragged out, and it nearly had you crying.

“F-fuck.” You choked out, much to Bruce’s pleasure as he pumped the digits slowly, dragging them in and out of your tight walls. He hummed softly at this.

“So tight,” he noted, his lips now lingering over your ear as he snapped his wrist, his fingers curling right over the perfect spot. This incited a moan from the back of your throat. “Are you going to take all of me?”

“Oh God yes—yes.” You said without a second thought, your head starting to spin more and more the quicker his fingers worked. You weren’t exactly thinking of what he had asked you, it got drowned out by the pleasure he was giving you. But it didn’t matter, your response was enough to please him and give you what you really wanted. Him.

He never stopped pumping his fingers, each snap of his wrist made his fingers drag deliciously over your most sensitive spot, and all you could think about was the burn in your lower stomach, how good it felt. You were distracted by it, and the sounds you made didn’t help, so you didn’t hear his belt quickly unbuckle. He had scrunched up your dress as far up as it went, or until he had a perfect view of his fingers working inside you. And before you knew it his fingers had left you, but before you could complain about the sudden emptiness, you were instead met with his cock filling you up.

Bruce stood upright, his head falling back and a pleasured sigh left his lips as he bottomed himself out inside you. It had been a long time since he had felt this, especially with you, and he soaked it all in, the way your walls tightened around him, the way your back arched into him. He sat still for what was maybe ten, fifteen seconds, but felt like an eternity. He was giving you time to adjust. Rightfully so, it had been so long since you had been with him you had forgotten how to handle his size.

You screwed your eyes shut, gripping on to the vanity, bracing yourself before you spoke, “Bruce, p-please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He placed a hand over your shoulder, while he gripped your waist with the other, holding you in place before he drew himself back, sliding half way before rocking back in with a snap of his hips. You cried out, your chest slightly sliding forward despite your grip.

“Did you miss this?” His voice was low, desperate even as he watched you through the mirror with hooded eyes, “did you miss me?”

“Yes.” you choked out, your head hanging as he slammed your body forward again with a particularly deeply slow thrust. You couldn't really see it, but he hummed, and there was the slightest curl of his lips, amused, pleased.

The sound of rapid and quick breaths from his part were quickly drowned out by the sound of your cries and the sounds of skin slapping against each other in quick succession. He adjusted himself, his fingers digged deep into your hip as his other hand gravitated towards your hair, and he pulled you back. You gasped in surprise by the sudden roughness, but you happily welcomed it. You pressed your back flat against his chest, and you were now forced to see yourself in the mirror, and Bruce towering behind you. You grinded down on him, the pleasure burning in your belly and you cried out softly, eyes screwed shut. This incited a low groan from Bruce, whose pale blue eyes were fixated on you. His eyes dragged from your chest, the cut of your dress exposing a good part of your cleavage, sweat starting to glisten your skin. His eyes then moved up to your face, and hell did he love it. He watched carefully the way your face contorted with pleasure, your parted lips and eyes screwed shut. A particularly hard thrust made your head fall forward with a cry.

“Look at me,” his voice was low and rough. You barely opened your eyes only to find the reflection of yourself, looking fucked out, you couldn't help but look away, flustered. “I said look at me.” He huffed and placed his hand right under your jaw, fingers spread out over your throat but not squeezing, just holding your head in place. And your eyes met through the reflection.

“See that?” There was a smirk on his lips and his eyes were gazing down on you, observing, penetrating. “All mine.”

“All yours.” You repeated, the words leaving your mouth before you could even process it, the haze of the moment was getting the best of you. You heard the quiet ‘fuck’ that left Bruce’s lips when you said that, his cock twitching inside you and his eyes rolling back for a second. His head fell over your shoulder and his lips found your neck, just as his hand fell between your bodies, his thumb brushing over your clit. That almost did it for you, he had you so close and he knew it. He rubbed slow but precise circles over your clit as he found a deeper, more precise pace, one that had his cock hitting your most sensitive spot perfectly.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this. Nobody else gets to lay a hand on you.” He said this with a particularly hard thrust, one so harsh it almost made you slip from his grip, almost as if he was trying to prove a point.

“F-fuck Bruce, please, please don’t stop.” You cried out, your back arching just as you felt that familiar burn in your belly.

“Are you going to come for me sweetheart?” He asked, his eyes were fixed on you, and that unblinking gaze had you feeling so small under it. His voice almost does it for you, so rough yet so smooth, you would honestly do anything he asked you in that moment, no questions asked.

You half nodded, you head slightly restrained in place by the large hand on the column of your neck, “Yes—” Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to keep your eyes open, fixated on his just like his eyes are on you, all you can do now is beg, “Y-yes, please, fuck—” The moan that left your lips was stifled by his lips as another snap of his hips had you shaking, clenching around him as a wave of pleasure hit you like a brick wall.

He held you with a tight grip of your waist as he fucked you through it, slowly dragging himself in and out of you until he had you whimpering against his mouth, “fuck,” he muttered, your walls squeezing his cock. His eyes actually rolled into the back of his head this time, not too far behind you. This gave you the idea to slowly drag yourself over his cock, the sudden wetness making it easier for him to slide in and out of you. And he actually moaned this time.

“Fuck,” it was low, barely audible, but it was there, he was almost there. His thrusts started to become short and shallow, his composure starting to suddenly break. “I’m-I’m going to come. Can you take it all for me love?” He sounded almost desperate. You tilted your head back, a hand running through his dark strands as you pulled him down.

“Please.” You whined against his lips, arching against him and nodded happily. With that, his fingers squeezed your neck ever so slightly as he gave a couple of quick shallow thrusts before his eyes were rolling back into his head and his lips parted as he spilled himself inside you. It was sloppy, messy, everything he was not, and he didn’t care at all. He slouched over you, eyes closed and panting as he sat inside you. You held him, your rapid and uneven breathing matching his.

It was a minute before he pulled himself out of you, and you could feel the combined releases drip down your thighs. Oh well. Bruce slightly tilted his head, catching a glimpse of it before your dress fell over your legs again. He gave you a quiet hum of satisfaction.

“If only you could see that,” he hummed, more to himself than you and he shook his head, pressing a more gentle kiss to your shoulder before he stepped back. He saw the way your head snapped back and you narrowed your eyes at him. He couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to your pursed lips before he spoke, “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry love.”

You were hoping yours and Bruce’s sudden disappearance hadn’t caught the attention of anyone back at the party, especially your parents. You were looking at Bruce as you walked back to the ballroom, your arms were linked together and his gaze was forward, his pale skin was still flushed and red, you didn’t even want to know how yours looked. You swore you felt everyone’s judgemental gaze burn into the back of your head.

“Do you think anyone noticed?”

“Unlikely. I don’t think we were the center of attention sweetheart.” Bruce shrugged, catching a small glimpse of you, seeing the utterly guilty look in your face. He opened his mouth to comment on it, but you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks. He was about to question you, but when he faced forward again he was met face to face with your parents. Your mother, who had the same welcoming and friendly expression as always. Your father however, was not all pleased to see Bruce.

“Father, mother.” You greeted them as casually as you possibly could, still holding onto Bruce, who looked like he wanted to grapple his way out of there. Unfortunately he didnt carry gadgets in this suit. “Look who decided to come. What a pleasant surprise right?”

“Ah yes.. Mr. Wayne. Quite the surprise.” Your father said with distaste and a scowl on his face. Oh boy.

“Mr and Mrs. L/N, it is a pleasure to see you again. This is quite the event you got here tonight.” Bruce tried to be as polite as he could, using his manners to his advantage despite feeling like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole, a feeling you shared.

“I wish I could say the same,” your father scoffed softly, eyeing Bruce disapprovingly before his eyes landed on you. That must've brought memories, your lack of lipstick, your hair suddenly down and tangled looking and Bruce looking seemingly disheveled, face still red and hair still tousled. “Y/N, can you explain where you went off to for the last half hour? People were asking about you.”

“Really? Oh.. well, I saw Bruce and we were uh-” you licked your lips, looking up at Bruce with a certain glint in your eyes before you looked back at your father, “we were just catching up. We kind of lost track of time.” Bruce had to look down to hide the small smirk that formed on his lips.

Yeah, lost track of time indeed.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #batman #the batman #batman x fem!reader #batman x reader #battinson #battinson x reader #robert pattinson #smut

[battinsonseyeliner]

I love Battinson sm cuz that poor orphan boy looks like he’s gonna cry at anytime of the day, especially when he goes out as bruce wayne, he tries to act cool and natural but in reality he just looks like he’s from another dimension and has no idea how this dimension works at all

Social anxiety babe

#battinson #batman #bruce wayne #robert pattinson

[punchdrunkdoc]

Just Breathe - Ch. 2

Summary: Six months after the events in Gotham Square Garden, Bruce is struggling to find balance between his role as Batman and his responsibilities as Bruce Wayne. His life is made even more complicated when he learns that someone knows his secret identity.

Notes: This is a multi-chapter Battinson/original female character story with romance, angst, and crime solving!

Chapter 1

Also available on AO3

I’ve ventured out of the shadows now. It was necessary; to give the City hope. To let the people of Gotham know that someone is out there for them. But the exposure has brought attention - from those looking to scrutinise my actions…and from those seeking revenge. 

Bruce flipped the journal closed and stared with frustration at the words scrawled on the cover:

                   The Gotham Project. Year 3.

He was in his third year of this life and he was still making mistakes. Those two Riddler acolytes should not have been able to get the jump on him last night. 

He'd arrived at the junkyard aware that it was no ordinary hostage situation. When he’d caught the social media coverage of the hijacking, his gut had warned him that there was something off about the set-up. And seeing the triumphant look in the gunmen's eyes as they'd stood in front of that bus full of people - all recording on their cameraphones - he'd realised it was a trap built just for him.

But in his arrogance, he still thought he could walk into it and get out unscathed.

And he nearly had.  Until they'd released that gas.

He should have anticipated this type of escalation. His bullet-proof armour rendered the preferred weapons of Gotham's criminals - guns and knives - essentially useless. So in response, they'd gotten creative.

And it had almost worked.

Lying on that cold, wet gravel...locked in his paralysed body, struggling in vain for the merest gasp of air...he'd thought his time on this earth was over.

He wasn't afraid to die.

He knew the life that he'd chosen was dangerous, and that a fatal end was always a possibility...he just didn't think it would happen like that. Laid out like a sacrificial lamb by two grandstanding, low-rate thugs.

Immobile and utterly helpless.

The burn of humiliation and self-recrimination he'd felt in that moment had matched the burn in his chest as his lungs had screamed for oxygen.

But then, a much stronger feeling had taken over.

Regret.

Regret for the failure of his mission. Gotham was no better than it was when he started; and he knew that he needed more time to undo the damage he'd caused by inadvertently inspiring the worst of its citizens.

Regret for the state of his family's legacy. He'd only just started to take a proper interest in the finances of the Wayne Foundation and, in particular, the Renewal Fund which had been too long neglected and corrupted.

Regret for leaving Alfred, especially when their strained relationship was finally starting to heal.

Regret for Selina, and the fact that he’d never see her again...

So yeah, he wasn't afraid to die.

He just wasn't ready to die yet. Not when there was still so much to be done.

He pressed play on the footage obtained from his contact lenses, determined to learn from last night's disaster. He paused at the moment the gas was discharged, studying the mist of red that filled the screen. He would need to ask Gordon for a sample from GCPD evidence so he could figure out a way to create a counter-serum.

He continued watching, even though his lenses recorded only the night sky and the falling rain as he lay motionless on the ground.

Then she came into view.

Her hair fell like a curtain around her face as she leaned over him. Her eyes were wide and full of tenderness as she tried to calm his panicked state. He remembered what she said to him vividly, could fit the syllables to the movement of her lips on the screen.

“You’re going to be ok, I promise. I know that you’re struggling, but I'm here. And I’m going to breathe for you until help arrives.”

He paused the recording, needing a moment to absorb those words.

I know that you’re struggling, but I'm here.

She couldn't have known how powerful that sentiment was to him. How much he wished for someone to share his burdens with. Someone to take his hand after a long night on the streets and offer solace and warmth…

I know that you’re struggling, but I'm here.

He shook his head.

He couldn't afford that, no matter how much he longed for it.

Inviting someone into his life, opening himself up to them...he couldn't risk it. The fear of losing someone else he cared about was too debilitating. The thought of going through that pain again was simply…unbearable. It was the reason part of him was glad that Selina had left, before he’d had a chance to fall for her further.

He restarted the footage and caught her lips moving again just before she bent over to press her mouth to his.

She'd said something else. Something that he hadn't caught last night over the sound of the pelting rain.

He rewound the video. Analysed it.

Rewound it again.

And again, sure that he was wrong.

But the silent words were clear.

'I'm sorry.'

Why would she be sorry? Why would she apologise for saving his life?

Because that's what she’d done. She had breathed for him when he was unable. He remembered the feel of her soft lips against his, the warm air passing from her mouth to his, the rise of his chest as her breath expanded his lungs and sustained him.

She’d saved his life…and he hadn’t even thanked her.

When the drug had cleared from his system and he was able to move again, all he could think about was getting out of there. He’d been shaken by his near death and that made him feel…vulnerable. He was desperate to regroup, away from the crowd of police officers and the prying eyes of the press.

So he’d jumped in his car and driven off…not sparing a glance or a thought for the woman who’d saved him.

Who was she?

The answer wasn’t clear from his own footage, her face obscured by the dingy light and the rain. He needed more.

He brought up the live feeds that were posted by the hostages on the bus. He searched through the videos, seeing himself fight with the gunmen from multiple different angles, seeing himself fall to the ground…but when she came to his aid, her back was always to the bus.

Who was she?

He found her in one of the last posts.

The footage was shaky, the hostage’s fearful nerves translating to unsteady hands. And the view kept swinging from the action outside, to the inside of the bus, in disorientating jerky movements. But that interior view allowed him to see her - finally - as she ran into the frame, calling out to the driver.  

“Let me out!”

“No! Are you crazy, lady?”

“Open the door! Now!”

She started banging on the glass of the bus door. She looked frantic.  

“I need to help him! Please!”

It was a strange feeling, more than two years into this mission, to suddenly see himself as the one in need. While he’d been lying on the ground, at the mercy of criminals…a total stranger had been rushing to his aid.

It was an unexpected reversal.

He froze the video on the clearest frame of her, and frowned as he regarded the face of his saviour.

He recognised her.

That honey-blond hair. Those big, cornflower blue eyes. The freckles across her nose and the full lips…he’d seen her before.

He searched through his archives and selected the video from more than a year ago...and there she was. Her hair was tied back and her eyes were hidden behind gold wire-framed glasses…but it was the same woman. He watched as she bristled at his and Gordon’s questioning of her work.

“There weren’t photographs taken because this was a non-suspicious death. The bruising was incidental. She died of pancreatitis secondary to gallstones. Natural causes.”

“How certain is that?”  

“Why don’t you open her back up and check for yourself?”

"I think you pissed her off.”

Bruce jerked away from the monitor, suddenly aware that he’d been pressed up close to it, studying her face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Alfred said, placing a breakfast tray on the workstation.

“It’s okay,” Bruce replied softy, turning to face the older man. But Alfred was looking at the screen.

“She’s pretty. Who is she?”

“The woman who saved my life last night.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Then maybe I should send her some flowers. Thank her properly for prolonging your existence for a few more weeks.”

“Alfred,” he sighed, preparing himself for the lecture.

“It was too close last night. There have been too many ‘too closes’ recently-”

Bruce bristled at the rebuke, just like the woman in the footage. “I misjudged the danger they posed. It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t know that, Bruce. You’re spreading yourself too thin. You’re going out every night, and you’ve started taking on more responsibility at Wayne Enterprises-“

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he grumbled.

“Yes, but you need to find some balance between the two. Otherwise you’re going to get sloppy, and you’re going to get yourself killed.” With those words, he stalked out of the underground lair. Their relationship may have been on better terms that it was six months ago…but they disagreed so fundamentally about how Bruce could help Gotham that it was becoming a regular fight.

His family’s company was a powerful lever for change in the City, and repairing the damage done to the Renewal Fund was a good way to help the people of Gotham and restore his father’s legacy…Alfred was right about that.

But Batman was needed too.

He was becoming a beacon of hope for the City, just as much as he was a symbol of fear for the criminals that polluted it. It was a role that felt much more important than sitting in on board meetings and attending charity functions. So if the balance had to shift, Bruce knew which direction the scales should fall.  

He turned back to the footage in front of him, and rewound the encounter.

“How certain is that?”  

“Why don’t you open her back up and check for yourself?”

He allowed himself the small smile that he’d suppressed at the time. She had surprised him back then. When he’d first encountered her she’d reacted like most people, backing away and staring in fear. But mere minutes later she was squaring up against him, all because he’d challenged the quality of her work. She was on the tall side for a woman, but still several inches shorter than him and relatively slender…yet she’d held her ground against him better than many criminals.  

And last night she’d been willing to leave the safety of the bus, and confront two armed men, to save him. Did she remember him from that night last year? Is that why she’d acted as she had? Or would she have done the same for a complete stranger?

Either way…he found himself wanting to know more about her.

———

“Dr. Beth Carraway, MD. 32 years old. Born in New York City. Orphaned young. Grew up in the foster system. Got her medical degree from Ivy University, did her pathology residency in Central City then moved to Gotham where she’s been working at the City Medical Examiner’s office ever since. Unmarried, lives alone. Debt-wise, she has some student loans - but not much, scholarships took care of most of her schooling - and she recently started leasing a car. No criminal record, not even an outstanding parking ticket. She’s thoroughly ordinary,” Gordon summarised, tucking the print-out back into his jacket pocket. “So you wanna tell me why you needed background on her?”

“Just following up on something from last week,” Bruce replied vaguely, staring out at the city. They were at their usual meeting place - by the signal light - and the dusk-hued sky was bathing the streets below in a warm lavender glow. From this vantage, at this time of night, Gotham always seemed worth saving.

“Speaking of that incident, those two Riddler-wannabes are going for the insanity defence, so they’ll probably end up in Arkham next to their hero. Doesn’t seem like much of a punishment for them.”

“They’re off the streets, which is the main thing.” His response was distracted. He was thinking of the information on Dr Carraway.

Orphaned young.

Thoroughly ordinary

His personal experience of the former gave lie to the latter. Orphans were not ordinary. It was not an ordinary state of being to be deprived of the love and guidance of your parents. To grow up rudderless and alone.

It had shaped the man he was today - and he had enough insight to know that his choices were not ordinary. It had shaped the Riddler too, in even more negative ways.

How had it shaped her?

His two brief interactions with her had yielded more understanding of her character than the background check provided by Gordon. He knew she was intelligent. Proud. Compassionate and brave.

Was that because of her childhood, or despite it?

And why did he care so much?

That was the question he struggled with the most. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his thoughts, and he didn’t know why.

Riding away from his meeting with Gordon he decided to ignore the question of ‘why’ and indulge his curiosity further…now that he knew where she lived.

Perched on the roof of the apartment block opposite hers, binoculars in hand, he spotted her arriving home from work.

She was hard to miss, sitting in the driver’s seat of an electric blue Camaro, the convertible roof retracted and the low growl of the V8 engine bouncing off the concrete buildings lining her street. She whipped the car into the underground garage and disappeared from sight. Minutes later, a light went on in the third floor apartment and he caught a glimpse of her passing in front of the window as she shrugged out of her coat and loosened her hair from its bun.

Witnessing the normality of that action made him lower the binoculars, disgusted with himself for spying. There was no justification for what he was doing. He wasn’t following a lead or staking out some crook. He was straight-up stalking the woman, and he needed to stop.

He quickly packed away his gear, descended to street level and sped away on his bike.

But he returned the following night.

And the night after that.

It became a habit over the next few weeks.  

Only for a few minutes at a time. And never while there was a risk of seeing her undressing. Those were the flimsy moral boundaries he set to justify his behaviour.

His compulsion.

Because thats what it felt like. He couldn’t really explain it, but he was drawn to this rooftop like metal filings to a magnet. He would begin most nights here, hoping for a glimpse of her.

It was as if he needed a constant reminder of why he’d abandoned his mission of vengeance; in the beginning, when he’d first donned the suit, that’s what it had been. A purely selfish pursuit to punish and hurt every criminal in the city. They were nothing but proxies for the nameless man who had murdered his parents and destroyed his childhood.

But after the mess with the Riddler, he realised he wanted to be more than just an agent of retribution. He wanted to be someone the citizens of Gotham could turn to in their hour of need. Someone they could rely on.  Someone they weren’t afraid of.

Someone they would jump off a bus for in the rain, risking their own lives to save.  

He wanted to be worthy of that kind of sacrifice.

So he came here, night after night, to remember why he wanted to do things differently.  

And apart from all that, watching her quiet, peaceful evenings - even when she was doing something as banal as reading a book or cooking a meal - provided a peaceful counterpoint to the chaotic darkness he existed in. It was a moment of calm before each night’s storm that he grew to rely on.

Tonight she was doing chores.

He could see her through her bedroom window sorting laundry, throwing clothing into piles on her bed. Her lips were moving as she swayed to unheard music and he imagined her singing along to the song on her stereo.

She sang a lot.

It was another piece to her puzzle. Another facet to her personality that he cataloged and memorised, helping to build the picture of her in his mind.

She liked to sing. She read a lot. She had a weakness for muscle cars and Korean BBQ takeaway.

And she lived a very solitary life.

She worked long hours, came home late in the evening, and spent her nights alone. No drinks with friends. No dinner parties. No dates or one night stands. He never caught her on the phone to someone, or saw her chatting to neighbours.

Her seclusion reminded him of his own. And whilst he had her - for a few minutes a night - to ease his isolation…she had no one.

He returned to that thought in the small hours of the morning as he sped home to Wayne Tower. Was there a way to meet her in person again? To discover if she was happy in her solitude or just lonely like him. Was there a way to spend time with her…so he could complete the picture of her in his head and assuage the curiosity he couldn’t seem to shake?

He ran through the possibilities - for how he could contrive a meeting with her - as he dismounted from his bike and began his usual post-patrol routine. He was surprised to hear Alfred's footsteps on the stairs only minutes later - he was usually in bed at this time.

“We have a problem,” Alfred said, as he came into view.

“What is it?” Bruce asked, his fatigue morphing into alertness.

“This,” he replied, handing Bruce a folded piece of paper. “It arrived yesterday evening.”

Bruce opened the letter and the first three words sent a chill down his spine:

                                 To The Batman

He jerked his head up to look at Alfred. “Is it the Riddler again? Or a copycat?”

Alfred shook his head. “No. There’s no greeting card, and there’s no riddle. Its just a letter asking for Batman’s help. But it arrived in this.” He helped up an envelope.

Which was addressed to Bruce Wayne.

“Someone knows who you are.”

--------

CHAPTER 3

Taglist: @hollandorks @grunge-n-roses5 

If anyone else wants to be added, let me know!

#batman #the batman #The Batman 2022 #battinson #batman fic #the batman fic #batman/oc #batman/original character #bruce wayne/oc #bruce wayne/original character #my fic #just breathe

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 50 (Masterlist)

(Part 51)

@bruciemilf it’s already part 50 wtf

🌀 I totally posted this on February 18th. This is not late. 🌀 Now these upcoming SNL edits took a LOT OF WORK so PLEASE BE PROUD OF ME!!!! (It’s giving Graphic Design is my passion, but I don’t care. I tried my best. All I have is Canva.) So let’s all have fun! And goodnight. I’m exhausted.

LATER SKATERS :D

#a wild battinson #battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #the batman #batman 2022 #dc universe #battinson needs a hug #gotham #soft bruce wayne #give battinson a child 2k24 #social media au #social media #gotham city #only in gotham #gothamite

[bruciemilf]

is it just my " Bruce loves Alfred so much and just wants to be like him" brain playing tricks on my ears, or did Battinson have a slight british accent in the movie at times??

I like to believe he tried to imitate Alfred so much when he was little.

The dark hair and doe eyes, permanently sad but alluring and mysterious, he had from Martha. He has Thomas' roman mouth, elegant bow in the middle.

They both smile with their whole teeth first, moon glow bright, Thomas with a grin made for vintage magazines of American gentlemen with lips puckered around a cigar, and Bruce with Martha’s pointy canines.

He's their baby through and through.

But he wants to be Alfred's baby, too.

Alfred comes to pick Bruce up from kindergarten one day. He notices something unusual. His little sir socializing willingly.

Bruce approaching his newest friend, Oliver Queen, timidly, but eager, " I can talk funny like my papa. Listen,"

He does the worst British accent Alfred's ever heard, and he had to stand through Thomas' Queen Elizabeth impersonations. Bruce comes over to him and asks him why he's crying.

#THEM #who can blame alfred for indulging bruce so much id literally set fire to my dreams for this kid #bruce wayne #battinson #alfred pennyworth #baby bruce wayne #dad alfred #MORE OF THEM PLS DC #text #text post #dc #the batman 2022 #batman

[greenorangevioletgrass]

Running into battinson at a fancy party and ending up having a one night stand with Bruce

skskjdhfskjdhf im so excited this might be the catalyst to bruce's long-awaited slut era 🥵

he's inches away from actually hiding in a corner, nursing his whisky neat (it's basically warm in his hand now), and maybe you saved him from all the people who want to ✨socialize✨ with him. ooh maybe you pretend to be his date like "there you are sweetheart! so sorry guys, can i steal him for a minute?" and you whisked him away from these gotham snobs like "sorry about that, you look like you're one small talk away from a mental breakdown. wanna get some air?"

and so you hang out, and maybe you end up making out on the rooftop and he takes you home to fckin dracula's castle lmao and he tries to look all suave and shit but ofc you see right through him and tease him like,

"i haven't done this--"

"--in a while? i know. do i look like i care?"

bc truthfully? you don't. not when he ripped your dress open and gets you to sit on his face and feel him moan into your pussy while you suck his dick and hear him beg "wait no no please i need to be inside you" bruuuuh 💦💦💦

#ask ava #battinson smut #bruce wayne smut

[wymthatsillegal]

hii!! may I request bruce wayne (rpat) with m!reader? bruce kinda nervous with r and r asks bruce if he rides motorcycles. bruce kinda panics for a second and says no hahaajsjss

r ends up offering to give bruce a ride and he goes with him. bruce holding onto r’s waist and r occasionally gripping his hand before he speeds up so bruce doesn’t get whipped lmao. r smacking his helmet against bruce’s helmet as like a helmet kiss when he drops him off at his house or smth lmaoo clonk

thank you!! i just thought this was kinda soft and silly

Bonk

Battinson x Male Reader

Contains: shy bruce, flirty reader, light (barely any) alcohol consumption, helmet kisses, alfred <3

Content Warnings: tooth-rotting sweetness

Summary: Bruce goes to a bar for the first time and the reader strikes up a conversation with him, reader ends up taking him home. A little word heavy, lots of dialogue, but I tried to break it up.

No usage of Y / N

Word count: 1391

Author's Response: This was so fun to write, I swear, I just started typing and before I knew it I had a thousand words, they just kept pouring out of me. I'll be a damned liar if I were to say I don't want this myself... ah, anyhoo!! Thanks so much for the request, this was such a cute idea omfg I loved it so much. Please enjoy <33

asks are open >:)

"Honestly, you don't seem like the type to favorite these shitty corner bars."

You spoke to the handsome man next to you at the bar, taking a sip of your mocktail. "What makes you say that?" He turned to you slightly, cocking his head. "You seem a bit stiff, is all. I've also never seen you around here before." "That would do it, wouldn't it?" You smiled, "It would." You told him your name, offering your hand. "I'm Bruce." was his hesitant response, a surprisingly very muscular hand firmly shaking your own. You noted the practiced air around his movements, "Nice to meet you, Bruce. Welcome, if you're new here."

"Thanks." Bruce didn't know why he was talking to this person so much, he needed to stop. "Since we're being honest, these kinds of places always make me nervous. I don't really like being social and around people, so a bar, where everyone is intoxicated and loud, sounds like Hell."

"Well, why're you here then?"

He paused, pondering, before shrugging and taking a swig of his alcohol of choice. "Dunno. Wanted to try it." You smirked at his response, holding your cup up to his, "To Hell, then." Your heart did a giant somersault in your chest when a ghost of a smile passed over his lips, a clink of glass against glass, "To Hell."

As the night progressed, you had become closer, your bodies turned away from everyone else at the bar, creating your own little atmosphere. At this point, neither of you were hiding the interested glances at the other's body, the mutual attraction between the two of you obvious. "Do you by any chance ride motorcycles?" You asked, his eyes widened for a second, a smile on his lips, "No, I think cars are good enough for me." "No? Really? You're built for it, I figured you were a biker when you walked in." Shaking his head he closed his eyes, "I'd be too worried about falling off and getting my skin peeled off with road rash." You laughed at him, throwing your head back. "That's why you're careful and wear clothes, fool!" Bruce waved you off, "Ah whatever. You ride or something?"

"I do, yeah, the KTM outside is mine. Found her bones at a scrapyard and fixed her up myself." You felt a little proud, in a city like this good parts are hard to come by. "Really? I like restoring and making things too, I'm currently working on a late 60's Dodge Charger." He spoke with a fondness that didn't help your fast-beating heart, "What? No way, I love chargers!" He nodded, "Her bones were a little harder to come by, though. I had a vision and nothing was working out until the charger."

You had a response on your tongue before the bartender came over, "Hey fellas, we close in about thirty minutes, no rush." Bruce didn't meet his eyes, reaching into his jacket pocket. "I think we're closing up anyway," He handed him a black card, "Here's for me and my friend's tab." You quickly perked up, "What? No, I can pay my damn tab, Bruce." He shook his head, "No, I don't mind. Besides, you had one beer." "True, I guess."

Walking outside, you turned to him, realizing you've got a couple of inches on him. "Do you mind if I give you a ride home? You gave me a nice night and paid my tab, feels like the least I could do." He made eye contact with the bike, staring it down as if weighing the pros and cons of saying yes. You smirked at him, "I've got two helmets, and if it makes you feel better, you can hold my hand, pretty boy." You flustered him a little at this, his dark eyes meeting yours. "How thoughtful. Sure, yeah, I'll give it a try." Walking over to the bike, you gave him one of the sleek black helmets, sliding yours on easily, clipping it under your chin. You mounted the bike a little dramatically, but judging from the little exhale from inside Bruce's helmet it did the job. You felt him mirror your actions, straddling the seat behind you, feet finding the little knobs on the side. Turning the key in the ignition the engine roared to life, Bruce knew a smooth and well-maintained system when he heard one. Yelping a little from the weight shift when you took off the kickstand Bruce shot his hands out to your waist, brushing against your flexed thighs that were holding the both of you up.

You snickered at him, "Careful, sweetheart." You took a hand off the handle, wrapping it over his and pulling it flush against your skin. "Where am I taking you?" A pause. "Wayne Tower, please." You mulled his response over in your head before something clicked. Bruce... dark hair... doesn't frequent corner bars... holy fucking shit. You were screaming to yourself that you had the one, the only, Bruce Wayne holding onto your waist and you've been flirting with him. All night.

You were thankful for the tint of the helmet and that he was behind you so he couldn't see your red face, "All right, Mr. Wayne, I can do that. You might want to hold on." Walking a little, you slowly twisted the handle, setting the bike off and merging onto the empty highway. You could feel the musculature of his biceps against your sides and you'd be lying if you didn't like the feeling of him pressed against you. A wide grin at your lips you sped up, the other man's hands snaking tighter around your torso. The lights and night sky were passing quickly, Bruce staring at it all in astonishment. Maybe a little in fear, but mostly awe. Something about you just made him feel safe, he trusted you even though he'd only just met you.

You suddenly whooped out loud, yelling into the empty streets of Gotham. It was a freeing feeling, only allowing yourself to be judged by the stars. Against Bruce's better judgment, he joined in, throwing his head back and laughing. He was laughing, an infectious noise that made you giggle too, your ribs shaking under his arms. "Fun, isn't it?" You yelled over the roaring wind, hoping he could hear you. "Maybe it isn't so bad." He mused in your ear, a noticeable shiver going down your spine at the husk in his voice.

Rolling up in front of the building entrance, you smoothed to a stop, kicking out the kickstand and turning your head to him a little, "You need to be at another entrance?" He grinned under the tint, "No, this is good." He regretfully peeled himself off of you, placing a shaky foot on the ground as he tried to get used to the suddenly still Earth. Holding a hand out to balance him you dismounted, "Easy there, sweetheart." Once he found his footing you stood next to him, "Thanks for tonight, Bruce, I enjoyed myself." Bruce surprised himself by responding, "I did too, actually." You placed a hand on his shoulder, "I think I'd like to see you again sometime if that's alright." He cocked his head slightly at that, "Yeah, I think I would, too."

You angled your head and pressed your helmets together, a little clonk. Pulling away from your helmet kiss, you studied his reaction before he returned it, knocking the plastic against each other again. You giggled like a schoolboy, turning away and mounting the motorcycle. He waved you off, the bike pulling out and speeding through the parking lot. You watched him take his helmet off in the rear-view mirror, swearing that you saw a big dumb grin on his lips, even from a distance.

Bruce turned to meet Alfred, who had just exited the building, and walked up beside him. "Who was that, Master Bruce?" The man held the helmet under his arm, watching the other zoom off and listening for the faint rumble of the engine. "A new friend." Alfred nodded, "Should I take this as a good sign?" Bruce turned to him, "I think so, he seems like a really nice guy." "Well, then I'm happy for you, Master Bruce. Shall we head off then?" Nodding again, the pair departed.

"Oh, Alfred, call a tow truck for my car, I left it at a bar."

#batman x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman2022 #thebatman #please im going insane #mlm #hes just so #bruce wayne x reader #battinson #the batman 2022 #soft bruce wayne #bruce wayne #male reader #flirty male reader

[superherorambles]

Battinson is like the sorta cute emo guy you see in the produce section at 3 AM, as he desperately tries to figure out what a carrot is and you make eye contact w him and have like a brief domestic fantasy about him but he passes out in the middle of the Walmart bc he had experienced too much social interaction for one day

#he never does figure out what a carrot is #brings alfred a radish instead #batman #bruce wayne #battison #batpat