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fresamilkwrites · 1 year

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COLLIDE ━ Javier Peña [Narcos, 2015]

summary. Javier's profession has been getting in the way of your relationship for far too long, and you two seem to have become passing ships. What's the worst that could happen if you went out drinking with some friends in an attempt to forget about your misfortunes? original request. Ok so, Javi Peña x fem. You've been together a while, during the height of the Escobar case he's always at the office and you're just passing ships. You're feeling a bit down and go to a club with friends. You harmlessly flirt with a stranger all night only to discover you're in a narco hotspot and Javi&Steve are about to raid it. author's note. This is my first requested fic and I'm so excited to finally be posting it! I also chose happiness and ended up starting a narcos rewatch while working on this... someone save me from this addiction (please don't).

[ ❥ ] pairing. javier peña x fem! reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 2.7k

[ ❥ ] genre. angst

[ ❥ ] warnings. No actual use of "Y/N". Angst. Explicit language. Mentions of alcohol and intoxication. Mentions of guns and gun violence. Mild physical abuse if you squint (not ill intentioned, just an accident).

Check on Javi.

You read the sticky note on the fridge, licking a spoon clean of peanut butter after making yourself breakfast. The eternal reminder staring right back at you like it had done for so long now.

You actually hadn’t for a few days, checked on him that is. It was getting hard to.

Javier’s job was never an easy concept to get around. DEA agent appointed to the highest profile case they ever had on their hands… they had it tough and you were perfectly aware. You basically signed up for this, but after weeks that turned into months of his endless work days, it felt like there was close to no room left for you in his life outside of when he’d randomly show up at your door looking for some stress relief, desperately kissing you without a hello and later leaving almost right after he was done.

And you tried to be supportive, as much as you had it in you to be. It started with dropping off lunch for him every morning at work, that slowly turned into a big coffee jug just a few times a week and now it was only the occasional call. A call you almost dreaded to make, specially since everything you did in an attempt to keep up with him was rarely received the way you wished it to.

It wasn’t that Javier was trying to be rude or hurt your feelings, you knew that. But he was so stressed… he never managed to pick up the first time you called, and whenever you’d go by his office it was hard to not feel unwelcome when entering his hectic environment, even if he didn’t let you go without a swift and rushed kiss on the lips. A kiss that to you felt like a “thanks, doll. Now go away please, I have things to do.”

A faint, melancholic smile appeared on your lips as you moved through your apartment and fell onto your couch, looking back at how things were before the case got so serious. The summer Javier and you met was like a fever dream… day trips to the beach, constantly waking up together, trying his horrendously strong coffee for the first time, any time he playfully laid his full bodyweight on you, his shooting lessons, going out drinking and dancing even though he has two left feet.

Then you realized, it’d been forever since you had gone out dancing. Something had to be done about it… you were so caught up with feeling abandoned that the fact there were still enjoyable things to do out there and other people to do them with, went completely unnoticed within the valley of your thoughts. You decided to take some action, and after basically jumping to the phone and dialing every single one of your girlfriends’ numbers, all of you collectively agreed to attend a new cumbia night club downtown that none of you had gone to yet.

By the time the night came, you were ready for your plans. Your hair down, flowing in waves and a tight, beautiful, sequined, one sleeve mini dress perfectly wrapping your figure. You finished the look with some matching heels and jewelry, giving one last look at the mirror before you went right out the door after hearing the familiar honk of one of your friend’s cars.

The ride to the club was the perfect way to start the night. All the girls looked beautiful, and while catching up, laughs and excitement quickly bubbled up from within their souls. Everyone was getting on the party mood, specially since they knew you wanted to relax and forget about the streak of bad luck your relationship was going trough. They knew well about your relationship with Javi, and while a few of them sometimes mentioned that “you should find someone who can give you the time you deserve,” they still were aware you loved him and stayed supportive of you and your decisions.

Upon arriving to the packed club and getting assigned a table, it was in no time that all of you had bright colored cocktails in your hands. After little observation, it was evident that the place was beautifully decorated, neon lights and mirrors bringing the tropical party vibe. The music was amazing and the energy was immaculate; people drank, laughed and danced around, making it inevitable to easily loosen up and get lost in the celebration spirit.

Looking around, something caught your eye. A man at the bar watching you with a slight smile and a glass in hand. His dark hair, big nose and mustache immediately reminded you of a certain someone. The mystery man held your gaze, and in return you raised the glass between your fingers towards him.

He reciprocated the gesture. Cheers!

“I just flirted with some guy!” You screamed over the music after bringing your attention back to the table full of girls. A mix of surprise, excitement and cluelessness spread amongst all of you. “He kinda looks like Javi.”

Some laughs and sarcastic eye rolls this time. Of course he did. “That man lives in your head rent free!” Claudia dropped.

And how could he not?

“He can be Javier tonight. Just have fun!” It was Marina dropping some input this time. “He isn’t here to do anything about it.”

That was true. Besides, it didn’t have to be more than just some innocent fun… feeling the joy and validation of having some stranger’s attention at a club.

“You’re right! You’re right!” A shrug before you downed the rest of your first drink. “It’s not like that’s bad anyways.”

Perhaps it was, you wouldn’t be happy to find out the man you loved and had been with for over a year, was going around town flirting with pretty girls at the bars.

Did you just call this random stranger pretty? Looks like it. You needed another drink. Fast.

And you did get it, and another one after that, and then you stopped counting… some of them sent as presents by the man sitting at the bar. The effect of the alcohol of course being unforgiving towards you. Suddenly you were a social butterfly, laughing and dancing around along with all your friends who were now in very similar positions, except for the ones that were now flirting and having fun with their newly met, club boyfriends for the night.

After doing a small turn in your place, your body was met with a hand shamelessly being placed on your waist. Suddenly the man from the bar had moved all the way to you, and he seemed to be making himself too comfortable within the bubble of your personal space. “Wanna dance?” He offered and you quickly nodded your head, the alcohol clouding your reflexes as you were simply glad he didn’t straight up ask for a kiss.

You were now at a point where your head was a blur, you started to feel clumsy. Maybe it was time to go home but everyone else seemed to be having so much fun, you didn’t want to ruin that.

As you continued to dance around with the man you hadn’t even bothered to put a name on, you started to notice a lot of weird movement around the club. Some people quickly moving from one side of the room to another, some also seemingly leaving with urgency… it felt like things were happening quickly in your surroundings and your foggy brain was barely catching up.

But as the friendly stranger pulled you closer, the music stopped and the lights were turned on. People complained and looked around in confusion, but trough the door quickly came a swarm of armed men. Either police officers or a cartel, you could only assume considering your understanding of what your eyes were seeing could easily be ambiguous. Without a warning, all hell broke loose; people ran around, screamed, law enforcement tried to control the situation. You desperately wanted to think of something; move, run, hide… but you froze, and didn’t snap out of it until the first gunshot was fired.

“Fucking hell!” You screamed like many others in the room, absolutely terrified. One of your friends pulled you quickly, almost dragging you under the table. The man you had been dancing with now nowhere to be found. “What the hell is happening,” a terrified murmur left your lips, the shooting continued.

Serves you well for trying to have fun.

You remained under the table, desperately trying to ignore the situation you were in while the palms of your hands fixed over your ears in an attempt to muffle the noise. At some point the piercing sound of the gunshots ceased, but arguing continued. Other attendees closer to the door seemed to start moving, probably getting evacuated, and suddenly, you felt yourself get pulled from under the table with a firm tug to what you thought was going to be your first time being used as hostage.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He screamed in your face and you immediately felt yourself get small in your place. The world around you two seemed to be moving erratically, but your eyes were fixed on Javier; the man now holding you harshly from your arm. His fingers digging into your skin, the fear born simply from the thoughts of what could have gone wrong now turned into anger.

Forming a sentence was impossible, not even a peep while a million thoughts and emotions ran trough you, the main one being how he had never yelled at you like that. Javier screamed your name and shook you slightly, but once again he didn’t get a response, causing him to curse and start pulling you towards the exit quickly. Anger and frustration oozing out of him in waves. From what you could see on the way out, the raid was a conjoined effort between the Colombian police and the DEA which now seemed to be under control. Some people were arrested and the evacuation had started. Javier managed to easily avoid the crowds, his hold strong around your wrist while he did this.

The two of you made it to his car, where he finally stopped dragging you around. The brunette looked at you with a frown, his body towering over you as your back clashed with the door of the vehicle. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your eyes immediately moving down to the pavement.

“Do you not know all the shit that’s happening with all these fucking narcos right now?” Javier spoke with gritted teeth, his hands now placed on his hips as you looked back up. He was trying to keep his cool, but his efforts were proved to be unsuccessful when he yelled again. “You couldn’t just pick up the damned phone and talk to me instead of running to make stupid decisions?”

“Even if I had tried, it would have taken me five business days to get ahold of you!” Now it was you yelling back, anger bubbling from deep within you, born from all the emotions you had been suppressing for weeks. The alcohol and adrenaline running trough your veins making you react badly to his entitlement. “By then I would have already been killed in—!”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that!” He raised his tone even higher, forcing you to shut up as he moved his hand to your face, pressing his fingers on each side of your jaw so firmly that it hurt. His body now pressed against yours, pushing you against the car.

“It’s the truth, Javier! I never see you anymore, I can barely get you on the phone!” You immediately clapped back, the anger seething trough your teeth before you sighed heavily, tears immediately pooling in your eyes before they spilled like bottled up emotions, streaking down your cheeks until they got your lover’s fingers wet. You closed your eyes, embarrassed. “I’ve missed you so much, I just wanted to have a good night for a change."

Javier’s expression was suddenly painted with confusion, this feeling within him being born from the realization of what he was doing. His harsh hold relaxed before he completely let go of your face, your tears had instantly brought him down to earth. He fucked up, he hurt you in more ways than one and now the way he was acting seemed to be almost as if he was trying to punish you for that too. It crumbled him to see you cry, even more when he knew it was his fault. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he ran a hand over his face with frustration before he pulled you into his arms. The closeness immediately getting the box you’d locked your feelings inside to open wide, your salty tears immediately forming stains on the fabric of his button up while he held you close, his thick fingers getting lost in the strands of your hair. “For screaming, for hurting you and for making you feel that way.”

“You’re everything,” he said your name softly, you could only sob in the familiar safety of his arms. It was freeing that you finally said how you felt and that he understood, but it didn’t make it any easier to get back to normal. Inside you’d felt like your relationship was beyond saving for weeks, all while being unable to bring yourself to bother him with that conversation. “I can’t lose you.”

Another familiar voice was heard from afar over the noise of the commotion. “Hey, Peña,” it was Steve, but Javier quickly shut him down by making a dismissive gesture with his hand. He realized it was about time he prioritized you over the job, at least this once. It’s not like they needed him when there were over a dozen other officers on the scene.

Right now he just wanted to be with you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you managed to mumble as you hugged him back, your small hands being softly placed on his back. It was true, that man leaving your life had become your biggest fear the moment you fell for him and it had gotten hard to see that possibility appear to be closer and closer every day.

“You won’t.” Javier dropped without even thinking about it. “That’s not on the table, it’ll never be.”

And you believed him. He was a man that kept his word after all.

You breathe in deeply, calming yourself down. “Can we go home?” There was still many things to go over, and a lot of stuff to put on the table together for the sake of actually seeing a change in your current dynamic, but it felt like you’d had enough for a day. It brought you peace to be with him in that moment, and after the stress you had been submitted to in the past hour, on top of the high alcohol levels in your system, you couldn’t think of anything better than to get in bed and leave any worries for another day.

“Of course, sweetheart.” The brunette let go of the embrace and placed a kiss on the top of your head, moving his hands to clean the leftover tears off your cheeks. “Let me just go find your friends so they know I’m taking you and, uh, sort some shit out. Is that ok?”

With a faint smile on your lips, you nodded calmly. “That’s ok.”

After that, he moved to open the door and help you into the passenger seat of the car. “I won’t be long,” Javier reassured before he left you inside the comfortable warmth of the vehicle, and from there you followed him around with your eyes, watching his moves intently. He quickly found your friends and while they seemed to get into a small argument, mainly because they appeared to be mad at him, he looked like he stayed calm and the issue was quickly settled. After that you saw him walk over to Steve, he seemed to explain the situation to him, and his partner nodded calmly in agreement.

As he walked back to you, you heard him yelling over the noise, “call me if you need anything!” To what the blonde replied with a simple, “don’t worry about it!”

Finally, he got into the driver’s seat. Your sight not leaving him for a second.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?”

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fresamilkwrites · 1 year

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LIGHTHOUSE ━ Bruce Wayne [The Batman]

summary. The once hopeful wife to the prince of Gotham has grown tired of the perpetual loneliness his suspicious nighttime activities have caused her, and after a long night playing her role as the perfect accessory to his fancy suit, she decides to finally let him know. author's note. I started writing this back in march when my Bruce Wayne obsession first started, but I left it halfway done and didn't think to finish it until a few days ago... so I hope you enjoy it. I actually have a full idea of these characters and the depths of their relationship, so I've been thinking of making a full novel on them... I'm just afraid of leaving it hanging too. Still, if anyone would be interested just let me know and I will try my best to get my brain working on it!

[ ❥ ] pairing. bruce wayne x fem! reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 7.2k

[ ❥ ] genre. 18+, angst, pwp?

[ ❥ ] warnings. No actual use of "Y/N". Established childhood acquaintances. Angst. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Mentions of alcohol and intoxication. Pet names. Switch Bruce Wayne. Oral sex (fem receiving). Boob Sucking. Bruce Wayne knows how to work his fingers. Height difference. Unprotected p in v. Breeding kink if you squint. Ownership kink.

"Bruce?" The faint noise came from your lips as you sat neatly on the co-pilot spot of your husband's black sport's car. You had been looking out the window the whole time since you'd left the charity dinner party, staring at the dimly illuminated streets of Gotham as the rain poured over you in a beautiful dark midnight that allowed you to stay in your own thoughts without much effort.

He glanced at you shortly before returning his sight back to the road, it took him a moment to answer. "Yes?" His deep voice just as faint, almost drowned by the noise of the drops hitting the pavement.

You continued to look out the window, it seemed that the ride home had been longer than you could handle being alone with your thoughts for. "Why did you do it?".

Bruce didn't react but his mind immediately started rushing, thinking of what you could possibly be referring to. Your conversations rarely went beyond surface level, specially recently, and half the times they did it'd end up badly, making both of you avoid them more every time... what were you talking about then? There were so many skeletons in your husband's closet that he was almost scared to ask, but he figured maybe you'd mention ignoring someone at dinner or maybe even just staring. "What exactly?" Faint once again, no music playing on the stereo making the pleasant sound of his voice travel straight to your ears.

You finally turned to look at him, just a glance to try and figure out if he knew what you'd say. He probably didn't. "Why did you ask me to marry you?"

"Excuse me?" He wasn't sure if he'd heard that right, a brow slightly raised as he turned back at you, now waiting for a response while you kept up the invisible wall between you by staring out the dripping window.

"Why did you do this to me?"

He could only breathe as he tried to figure this out in silence, the red light on the road allowing him to keep his focus on you. Even though you were right next to him you seemed so far away, so out of reach. You had never acted like that before, he couldn't predict an outcome to his next move in unknown territory.

Bruce Wayne had known you since you two were kids, technically.

Gotham had its fair share of wealthy families and country clubs, people like his parents were part of a certain scene and eventually that included him up until they were gone.

He'd met you back then, before the incident. The youngest daughter of a family his parents were close acquaintances to, Bruce would see you around birthday parties and play dates with other kids in these social circles.

He couldn't say you two had been close, but when he decided to get back into the world and dust off his now barely existent social skills, it was easy to approach you.

Bruce quite frankly couldn't stand the chatter and small talk that kind of social setting involved, he didn't just stay away for nothing. His return to the public eye was something he was putting off for years for many reasons, one of them being the idea that it'd generate its fair share of talk all over town, but he carried on with it regardless, purely to prove a point.

After his parents' passing, Bruce had rightfully inherited a spot as Wayne Enterprises' president, and while he had never taken it seriously, when he finally decided to take his spot the investors weren't necessarily accepting of him. A lot of their rejection coming from Wayne's "apathy" and "lack of character", which in reality meant they thought he was an antisocial freak. If he wanted to keep the company and not kill it in the process, he'd have to give in. And that he did.

During his first public outing, Bruce Wayne stayed in a quiet corner and avoided as many people as he possibly could while running a steady rotation of glasses in his hand. He thought maybe that'd give him enough courage to start a conversation or at least wave at someone from afar.

He wasn't right but he wasn't necessarily wrong either... after enough drinks and minutes that felt like awkward hours failing to spot someone to talk to around the luxurious country house, you appeared in front of him wearing a beautiful white dress like an angel that came to save him from the claws of the gossiping Gotham elite.

You stood just a few feet away, a glass of champagne on your hands and a bright expression across your familiar face that almost felt as illuminating as a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean. He cautiously followed the light and the rest was quick history, it only took a few months before the two of you were engaged and then married in a small ceremony.

You knew it wasn't necessarily conventional, and soon you learned that being with him would probably never be easy, but there was something within you that begged to go with it. A part of you that thought it could help him feel better, finally put the past behind him and move on.

Now you saw that idea even further away than in the beginning, and it was tearing you apart.

"You clearly didn't want to be married," you continued after you realized he wasn't actually going to say anything. You weren't surprised at that, that's what he did most of the times when you mentioned something he wished you hadn't. "At least not to me".

"I don't know where this is coming from," he voiced his concern as there was not much more he thought he could do. At night, when he was the Batman he could easily speak his mind without a filter, manage any situation and outsmart any criminal, but when he was with you he'd always be afraid. Afraid of going too far, of being too insensitive, of expressing too much, of opening up...

"Maybe from the fact that you'll speak five sentences to me a day if I'm lucky, or maybe that you haven't slept in the same bed as me in months without even bothering to give me a reason," he was the one avoiding your stare this time, the road ahead being a good excuse for him to not have to look back. You could still see his brows furrow slightly at your words, you'd had more than enough glasses of champagne and it had clearly gone to your head, but you actually didn't care. You were glad to finally be saying something.

"I did tell you I've been working late and I don't want to wake you," his tone did not change one bit even after yours had grown more intense, his eyes still fixed on the pavement.

You couldn't wait to get home and lock yourself away from him. Bruce Wayne treated you as if you were another piece of furniture in his home but tonight you weren't in the mood for half truths and empty conversation to fill up the moments in-between. "You're so full of shit."

"I wish you would just talk to me," you continued, arms crossed over your chest. "I wish you would just stop acting as if I was too dumb to understand every single thing that has to do with you, because I'm not and really all I want—".

"I did it because I was selfish," he interrupted you. It took you a moment to realize he was finally answering your original question, and immediately your eyes turned to him once again. "And because I thought my motives didn't matter if I made it work for both of us. I wanted to have you by my side, be happy together."

"Well, you aren't doing a really good job with any of that, are you?"

This time Bruce did look at you, just a glance. He wasn't expecting you to say something like that, and neither were you. It was hurtful.

Maybe you should just shut up, but maybe you shouldn't... maybe he deserved to hear all the shit he'd made you feel with his actions for the past few months. All the abandonment, the walls he wouldn't let you cross, all the times you had tried to be there for him and he'd just shut you down leaving you feeling like it had been your fault, feeling like you could only take one step forward and two steps back.

"I understand if you want to leave me," he couldn't think of a different answer. He knew that you telling him all this could only mean he'd pushed you to your breaking point, he knew he was unlovable and that it was just a matter of time from the day your relationship started for you to start seeing him the same way he saw himself. Nothing more than a painful burden.

The sound of your heavy laugh forced him to move his sight away from the road, he was now looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. He didn't get what was so funny.

"Leave you? Don't be ridiculous, Bruce," a beat. "I picked your happiness over mine a long time ago, exactly the same way you did," now he should be the one pointing out how much of a bad job you were doing at that. You'd like to think being with you didn't make him any more miserable, but you also didn't think it was helping at all and you were paying the price regardless. You still had to play the role of the luckiest girl in Gotham, the role every other woman thought she wanted.

You were finally reaching your building's garage, and the second he parked you immediately stepped out of the car, not giving your husband a chance to say a word back. The floor seemed blurry thanks to your intoxicated state and every step felt like walking over broken glass thanks to the height of your uncomfortable Loubutins; that didn't stop you from trying to reach the elevator before he did.

"Hey!" He called your name immediately after he saw you stepping out in such a hurry. "Wait, you're going to hurt yourself," he called again, trying to stop you with no result as he ran around the car to reach you. He quickly got to you, holding you from your arms to help you walk safely as he ruined your plan to run away and avoid him for the rest of forever the same way he did to you.

Once you reached the elevator he pushed the button to call it down, the pain in your feet only getting more intense every second. "God, my feet are killing me," you moaned in complaint, still ignoring him while his hands rested over your shoulders.

He gave you a quick look and picked you up in a swift motion, avoiding to touch you more than strictly necessary or look you in the face as he figured it'd be overstepping. He just wanted to take the pressure off your feet, not necessarily pull a romantic gesture in the middle of such a serious argument. You didn't complain, but looked away as well.

Once the elevator arrived he pushed the button to the penthouse and stayed silent during the ride, staring at the numbers changing on the floors monitor.

You on the other hand were too busy staring at his unknowing face, it was hard to put your finger on when you had given up on him. It was way before his nights away, even before you had to start eating your meals alone because he wouldn't show up.

Bruce Wayne was never a honeymoon phase prince charming, he was always complicated and back then you thought you liked the challenge... you thought he'd eventually openly become the tender man you had convinced yourself lived inside him. At least at first he looked like he tried, like he put effort into pushing himself out of the shell; but now, after almost three years together you barely got to see him and couldn't even remember the last real conversation you two had before this. It eventually got hard to keep pushing.

"Why do you let me make you feel that way?", he asked still looking away. He made it so hard to understand him, to know what he was feeling.

You didn't have to think about your answer, you knew it perfectly. What took you a second was making sure that you wanted to say it. "Because I love you", a sigh left your lips and he looked down at you, this time you looked away, unable to hold the weight of his deep pained eyes. "I love you more than I thought it'd be possible to love, that's why I do it".

During your time together, your husband had never explicitly said those three words to you. You understood, and you'd always liked to believe that Bruce loved you even if he wasn't verbal about it. You liked to see it in the little things, such as the way he used to hold you at night, how he always used to kneel down to fasten your shoes without you asking him to or that special way in which he'd smile at you after trying the food you made him. Most of those things were gone now, it was even hard to remember the las time you'd seen that coy smile of his.

A sweet sound notified you that you had reached your floor, and after walking into your home, Bruce set you down on the nearest couch and walked over to the decanter at the corner table to pour himself a glass of bourbon.

You reached down to finally get rid of your shoes, and let out a heavy sigh once you finally felt the relief of the cold hardwood floor against your pained soles. "What truly hurts me the most is that you can't love me more than you love being him," you murmured as you made your way to your room, knowing you should probably not expect him to get in bed with you tonight either.

But you were stopped in your tracks, Bruce's hand wrapped around your arm almost harshly. "What are you talking about?"

Your eyes darted to his hand on your arm, and then to his face. He looked worried, agitated. "You really give me way less credit than I thought," a sarcastic smile painted your face as you pulled your arm from his grasp. "Good night, Vengeance." A sigh, you turned around trying to leave once again.

"You were never supposed to find out," cold, almost a murmur. You didn't stop or turn around, you didn't care. You had known about it for weeks now, yet you still thought you'd wait for him to say it himself... it sounded like that moment was never going to come if you had actually kept waiting.

He called out your name but that didn't stop you, your mind was too busy stumbling upon tons of rambling thoughts. Flashes of the things you had gone trough together, that first night you saw him in a corner of a party with his sight on the floor, scenes of your beautiful little wedding... how hopeful you were back then regardless of everything your mother said. That first night you were together, the way he touched you as if he was afraid of you breaking in his touch and how you two stayed awake all night afterwards, his head resting on your belly while you told him about the little pranks you'd pull on your siblings as a child. Tears started to pool in your eyes, you assumed all the champagne had gone to your head.

Next thing you knew, Bruce had you pinned against the corridor, his breathing erratic and his hold rough. It seemed that he was looking for something in your face, yet you stayed still and expressionless apart from the little drops that quietly fell from your eyes as you held his gaze. "Businessmen don't come home shot and beat up in the middle of the night, you should have at least come up with a boxing club or something," his hands moved from holding your arms to cupping your face after a deep breath. You couldn't remember the last time you felt him so close.

"I never meant to hurt you," he said calmer this time, trying to wipe some of your tears away before reaching down to place a kiss on top of your head, then another one on your forehead before he wrapped his arms around you in an embrace that was almost desperate. "Please tell me what I can do. To make it better, to go back..."

His tone was serious, holding a hint of defeat. It made you realize he probably wasn't aware of the obvious answer. You stayed silent and nuzzled yourself into him, just enjoying his warmth in silence. He always had the power to make you feel safe in his arms.

"Please," he begged.

"You won't do it," you murmured into his chest. "I won't ask because you won't do it and you'll just prove me right. You'll continue to save a city that has done nothing but look down on Bruce and take the Batman for granted. They don't deserve you like I do, Bruce."

After hearing this, Bruce released you from the embrace and looked into your watery eyes knowingly. It wasn't uncommon for him to be unsure if he still possessed a heart, yet you were the one to always make him remember one way or another. He took your hands in his and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss on them. "You don't even have to ask, I'll stop. I'll leave it all behind... at least for some time."

You wished he would place all his kisses on your lips instead, his response made you realize you should get as many as you can before he gets himself killed. Bruce wouldn't stop; as hard to decipher as he is, you know he's in too deep and even if he tries, they'll call him right back in and away from you. He knew it too, but your tears made him want to mean what he said and hope that he'd be able to keep his word. At least for some time.

"You promise?" Even if you knew he couldn't, you wanted to hear him say it. Pretty lies for a hopeless wife.

Bruce was serious, and he moved his hands back to your face to wipe the tears that ran down your cheeks as you looked up at him. It hurt him to see what he'd turned his lighthouse into, he hadn't seen you shine in months and he didn't know if you'd ever do it again after he'd slowly eaten your light up with his selfishness. "I do. You'll never have to cry over this again."

It was said the Prince of Gotham destroyed everything he touched and sadly you had become his favorite toy a long time ago, a little night light he thought could illuminate his whole room of nightmares.

Next thing you knew, he was reaching down to kiss you, finally on your lips. His hands still on your tear stained cheeks when you finally let go of your heels, dropping them to the hardwood floor as you moved your arms up around his neck. It'd been so long since you'd last felt his lips on yours.

He'd just been so far away, having him this close felt almost surreal and the way his kisses were rapidly growing urgent just showed you that he felt the same way. Clearly his late night hobbies were not good for him either, and not just health wise.

A low grunt left his lips in annoyance and he immediately reached down to wrap a hand around one of your thighs to push you up and place you over the corridor's credenza, pushing your legs apart with little care to make space for him between them. "Who let you be so short?" He murmured over your lips before pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, moving his right hand to the back of your head while his left pulled you closer around your waist.

A faint laugh escaped your mouth, Bruce only joked around in bed and that fact alone had always been funny to you. "Will you punish me for it, Mr. Vengeance?" You feigned a certain innocence, moving your hands to his hair while your thumbs caressed his cheeks swiftly. Suddenly you had forgotten about everything, the heavy weight on your shoulders lifted at least for some time.

"Maybe," his darkened eyes bored into yours with the disposition of a predator as he pulled you in from your waist even further, forcing the hem of your scarlet cocktail dress to move up your thighs and expose your lace underwear. A detail he immediately looked down at, his eyes getting lost in said sight until you brought your fingers under his chin and forced him to look back up at you, allowing you to catch his lips back in yours.

You pulled the dark strands of his hair lightly as Bruce moved his hand down from your waist to the dainty black fabric of your undergarments, running his thick fingers softly over the slight wet spot forming in it. "Wet for me already?" A smug smile on his lips when he stopped to look at you before moving down to bite on your neck, holding your jaw firmly between his fingers to make sure you'd turn to the side and make space for him.

A sweet moan left your lips as he bit harder, your back arching slightly into his body while you kept the hand in his hair formed into a fist as he continued to nip and lick your warm skin.

Some people would say Bruce Wayne was truly himself when he was wearing his bat suit, but in reality, you'd only seen Bruce Wayne be brave enough to be himself when he was fucking you. You never saw him smiling, joking or laughing more than during sex. And not only that, but his versatile nature allowed him to be everything at once; hot, shy, desperate, patient, dominant, submissive, delicate and primal, all at the same time... nothing would ever compare to the way he touched you, and how he could make you feel so big while being so small in his hands. It was truly amazing how well you two fucked for a couple that could now barely keep up with conversation.

Bruce caught you off guard when he used the hand between you legs to move aside the piece of fabric covering your pussy, his fingers immediately moving to find the wetness between your folds, eliciting another moan from your lips accompanied by a swing of your hips that begged him to continue. "And so needy too..."

"That's your fault." You protested as your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, Bruce left the crook of your neck and stared at you intently. "If you have a problem with it, I can find someone else next time you decide to forget you have a wife."

He gave you a grunt and a dirty look, you'd probably pay for that later. His fingers continued to explore around your cunt, pressing against your clit and starting to move in swift circular motions as they were now sleek with your own wetness.

Immediately he could see your body react, a proud smirk on his lips when he saw you struggle to undo his buttons with a pout and your eyes furrowed slightly into that little expression he loved so much. He let go of your jaw and moved to unbutton the rest of the shirt himself, your eyes immediately moving down to his chest before you pushed the fabric down his shoulders and dropped it on the floor.

Bruce resumed his motions as soon as he was free from the black garment and as he did, you allowed yourself a moment to take in the look of him. His pale skin was decorated with a new set of stitches under his collar bone, along with multiple bruises across his ribs, some looking a few days older than the others based off the different hues of green and purple. Immediately, your mind went to how badly he was probably hurting himself out there every night while you had no idea, maybe that was why he had just kept his distance, maybe he just didn't want to be a bother.

Before you could reach his skin to run your fingers over his now scarred stitches, Bruce caught your wrist between his free hand and pinned it over your head in a rough motion, pushing himself forward to slip his burning hot tongue between your lips. You breathed in deeply and allowed his tongue in, closing your eyes as you opened your legs wider and pressed your cunt further against his touch, provoking little moans that got lost between your mouths.

Without a warning, Bruce took the pressure off your clit to then thrust a finger inside, never breaking the kiss. You could feel his breathing become heavier by the second, his own grunts clashing against your moans and sighs before he pushed another finger in, stretching you out with quick and deep, harsh thrusts. "Look at you, taking my fingers so well," he said after looking down at his work, clenching his jaw at the sight of his long fingers glistening, coated in your wetness with every thrust.

It wasn't really a demand, but you did look down, an electricity running trough your whole body the second you did, forcing you to look away or you'd cum too soon. Your eyes went to your husband's linen pants, the beautiful sight of his bulge hardly pressed against the expensive fabric ripping a louder moan from your chest, only getting louder as he continued to push his fingers into you, hitting your G spot with every thrust.

Your eyes went back to his face, Bruce was completely focused on you, paying attention to every single one of your reactions; the way the pace of your breathing had picked up making your chest move up and down franticly, the obvious fact that you had less and less control of your own body with every second passed, it only becoming more evident with how your legs wouldn't stop shaking and your sudden desperate need to interwind your fingers with his over your head just so you'd have something to hold. A beautiful expression of pure ecstasy all over your dainty features along with a beautiful rosy blush.

"You're doing so well," Bruce praised between his own deep grunts, his eyes only leaving yours whenever he needed to look down at the beautiful sight of your dripping wet cunt. "Come on, princess. I want you to cum for me," it was almost a groan, Bruce was desperate. He needed more of you and he needed it now.

You immediately nodded and squeezed his hand in your own, your body kept tensing and you weren't sure how munch more it could continue to build up for, you were so touch deprived after all. In a desperate attempt to satisfy your husband's request as soon as possible, you brought your free hand to his lips, inciting him to suck at your fingers while pleasure kept running trough you in waves.

Bruce took two of your fingers between his lips, sucking and running his tongue trough them while holding eye contact, getting them nice and wet for you so you can now guide them down to your swollen clit, rubbing sloppy circles over it while he continued to pound into you with his fingers.

The feeling of fullness kept getting closer as you masturbated harder and faster, your eyes moving quickly from the set of hands pleasuring you to your husband's encouraging look up until you couldn't keep them open anymore. "F— fuck," left your lips loudly and he squeezed your hand back as your body started convulsing, the long awaited orgasm starting to burn you from head to toe, just an instant away from finally hitting you, making you unable to continue the stimulation of your clit as you desperately moved your hand to cling around Bruce's wrist, sticking your nails in his pale skin as he pounded you restlessly.

Immediately and without a second thought, Mr. Wayne let go of your hand and dropped to his knees, finally ripping your panties off before tucking them in his back pocket and replacing your fingers with his tongue, sucking fervently as the movement of his fingers never stopped. "Come on, show me those pretty eyes," he begged, wanting to look at your desperation as he made them roll back and tear up, but you immediately shook your head no, moving both hands to thread between the strands of his hair as you pushed him further into your cunt, your moans loud and desperate. "I'll stop if you don't," his voice producing vibrations that ran trough your core, the threat immediately making you obey.

As you opened your eyes, you finally lost it. The sight of him between your legs being more than enough to give you that last kick you so desperately needed. Your back arched and your breathing erratic, loud animalistic moans ripping trough your chest as your orgasm took over you on top of that small wooden table.

Bruce sped up his thrusts, his own moans and groans clashing against your clit pushing you further into ecstasy as the feeling of over stimulation settled into your core. Fuck, how he wanted to see your perfect breasts bouncing as you shook over his fingers... he regretted not destroying that dress when he had the chance.

"S— stop!" You suddenly pleaded, followed by his name desperately spilling off your lips repeatedly, mixed up with nonsense and stuttering. "I'm, I'm going to—" it felt as if your brain was fried, the full sentence unable to fully form as you tried to push his pussy starved lips away from your cunt to no use.

Bruce didn't relent, and it was just a matter of seconds until he flipped the switch, a warm gush of liquid now dripping down your legs that he immediately moved over to swallow as much as he could of with urgency, desperate as if he was looking for water in the dessert, making it drip down his chin to his chest.

After you were done, he pulled his fingers out, giving them a good look before sticking them into his mouth to suck them clean while he looked at you. Your hair now messed up, face holding a divinely calm expression that was decorated with a bright blush on top of your cheeks while you caressed his face carefully and your chest moved up and down quickly. That really was a sight he loved to see, and god had he missed it. "Looks like we made a mess," he teased, standing back up in front of you before picking you up in his arms.

You giggled and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck when he picked you up, exhaustedly resting your head on his shoulder while your legs hung by his sides. He was taking you to your room, the room he hadn't set foot in for months.

Or at least that was what you thought. In reality Bruce would go in your room and leave a kiss on your forehead every time he wasn't too exhausted or hurt to do it. He saw the distance put between you as necessary, the best thing he could do for you without having to let go of the Batman, but that didn't mean it was easy for him. Every night when he got home he'd ask Alfred about you and your day, what he heard often left him bothered but while he wanted to make it better, he wasn't really sure about how.

Your relationship had been an interesting ride for Wayne, and considering he was a man who once saw himself as unlovable and still sometimes struggled to accept that your feelings for him weren't on a tightrope, it was to be expected that he wouldn't know how to react to your kind heart and unconditional stand by his side. So much so, that even with his fear of this new experience, he soon knew that whatever it was that you made him feel had already become too important for him to let slip trough his fingers, and so he proposed after just a little over half a year of casual dating.

Back then you felt like he just saw you as a pass time considering you had never spoken about the terms of your relationship. You thought that you had fallen into the trap of feeling too much for someone who barely had interest in you, so when he asked the question in the middle of dinner, he caught you off guard to say the least. That really opened your eyes to the fact that he was even more complex than you originally realized, and unknowingly till this day you still had a lot to learn.

Upon entering the room, Bruce kicked the door closed with his boot and then proceeded to turn on the lights, using the dimmer so that he could make it just light enough to be able to see you. He sat on the bed and while you were still resting over his shoulder, he reached over to your neck, peppering kisses over the red marks he left earlier as his hands traveled to your back and undid your zipper.

Straightening your back, his hard cock pressed against your cunt as you lifted your arms to allow him to pull the fabric over your head. "I had to stop myself from ripping this to shreds," he murmured throwing it to the side mindlessly to then bury himself in your chest, breathing your smell in deeply.

"Maybe you should have," you teased with a roll of your hips, grounding yourself against his groin. A groan left his lips, your hands moving to thread between his dark strands of hair, caressing him lovingly when he started leaving kisses over your breasts.

Bruce was lost in your skin, kissing and sucking at every last bit of it in front of him. "Maybe tomorrow," he murmured and a laugh escaped your lips. He wasn't even done fucking you today but was already thinking about what he'd do to you the following day, at this point you felt like he'd already forgotten how it felt purely from his eagerness.

After reaching to unclasp your bra he threw it away somewhere close to the dress, leaving you now completely exposed to his eyes. Bruce took a deep breath in and sat back for a second, admiring the sight in front of him. "Look at you," just a murmur left his lips, full of admiration, making you shiver before he went back to your mounds, now sucking and licking one of them as one of his hands took over the other.

He sucked your nipple and looked up at you, then rolling his tongue over the small bud. His breathing once again getting heavier as you started to rub against his lap, rolling your hips and grounding yourself over his hard cock over and over with your hands still in his hair. You dropped your head back and pushed your chest out for him, the sway of your hips never stopping.

It didn't take long for him to switch sides, now moving his attention over to your right breast. Impatient, he started to match the movement of your hips as he did, pushing slightly forward every time you went down against him, the pressure heavenly and only making him desperate for more.

"Fuck," a little groan that clashed against your skin before Bruce stopped himself briefly to hold you by the waist and offhandedly maneuver your body to place you over the bed, positioning himself at the edge of the bed now, one knee rested on the mattress. Once again he stopped to look for a second, and as he did his hands traveled to those linen pants you had been eyeing all night, but you stopped him as soon as you saw his intentions.

"Let me," your voice sweet as honey when you sat up and carefully put his hands away, looking up at him briefly before proceeding to unbutton his pants cautiously. "You're so hard..." you mumbled more to yourself, before continuing to pull the fabric down his toned legs, making his black cotton, pre-cum stained underwear the only thing now covering his erection.

A wicked glimmer set in your eyes when you looked up at him, moving closer to place a trail of small kisses along his covered length, Bruce's hand immediately moving to run trough your hair as he took a deep breath.

A firm tug in your hair interrupted you the second you tried to remove his boxers, eliciting a pained moan to leave your lips. "Not tonight," he simply said before pushing you back down onto the mattress. He then carefully kicked his boots off his feet and fully removed his pants, giving him more freedom to move around while you watched him intently, the warmth pooling between your legs once again. A small moan tearing from your throat when he removed his last garment, finally letting you see his hard, blushed cock.

"Why not?" You finally protested after managing to break the trance, eyes traveling from his manhood to his face and back. Your mouth was dry.

Bruce climbed on top of you, holding both your wrists tightly with one of his hands and moving them over your head as he did. "Good girls don't ask questions," he mumbled, running the tip of his nose up and down your neck, allowing the smell of your perfume to fill up his senses like the finest blow. You wanted to touch him so bad, desperately run your hands trough his chest and pump his dick, have him beg to cum in your touch, but trying to free your weak arms only painted a smug smile on his lips. "I just want to make your little cunt so full of my cum tonight," the admission making you whimper in place, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to release some of the tension. "You want that too, don't you princess?" He couldn't help but look at you in amusement, using the pet name he originally gave you as a joke in reference to his press nickname.

You quickly nodded, your eyes wide with need. "You're such a little cock-whore." Bruce laughed smug over you and immediately moved down to your lips once again, eating your mouth up fiercely before you could brat up and complain about his comment. With his grip still firm around your wrists, he wrapped his thick cock in his free hand making you whine the moment you noticed, which made the brunette bite your lower lip harshly.

He pulled away briefly, making you immediately look down at how he jerked himself off slightly, getting ready to finally get in you. You bit your lip, the simple thought of it making you squirm in your place and open your legs for him while breathy moans continued to leave your lips at the sight of your husband over you, his sight moving up and down your body as well.

His tip finally grazed your cunt and you immediately closed your eyes shut, your back slightly arched now. But he didn't enter you, making you open your eyes again with a confused stare. Bruce was teasing.

Immediately you tried to get closer, but his hold on your wrists was enough to keep you pinned in place. A loud whine escaped your lips out of desperation while he continued to devilishly rub his tip up and down your wet folds.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured with a cold tone and you immediately shook your head no, your sight moving down to look at his little game as you grew more and more desperate. Bruce's hand finally left your sore wrists, immediately making you try to move down on his cock, but he was faster.

His big hand moved to your neck now, pressing down slightly as he stared intently into your eyes. You swallowed thickly and whined once again, you wanted him in you so bad. "Please," you begged, your eyes moving quickly from his blushed cock to his eyes.

"Please, what?" His tone still the same, he somehow seemed unfazed while you knew he wanted it just as bad.

"Fuck me, Bruce! Please just fuck me!" You begged desperately, your cheeks red with embarrassment and your blood ignited with desire. The brunette immediately smiled.

"Good girl," just a murmur before he pushed himself inside of you, your mouth immediately opening in awe before he reached down to kiss you again. The feeling of him inside you so familiar yet so seemingly forgotten.

Bruce bottomed out and quickly started to move, thrusting in you with a steady and strong pace. "You feel so right," Bruce groaned, your arms immediately wrapping around him before you desperately reached to bite at his neck in an attempt to silence your lewd sounds. It was true, the way he stretched you and filled you up perfectly had always made you feel like your bodies were made to match each other.

"I– I love you," you moaned with difficulty, your brain too foggy to be sure if it had properly pieced the sentence together before repeating it again, almost chanting it over and over. Bruce smiled widely and moved to kiss you again, that was his way of saying it back.

He had certainly missed hearing you say it in such a beautiful way.

"Say it again," Bruce pleaded, his hand moving down to your waist, lifting you up slightly so he could match your body to the rhythm of his thrusts, your walls fluttering around him while the sound of his own groans served as music to your ears. "Say it!" He repeated and you moaned loudly, his breathing just getting more and more agitated while drops of sweat started to build at his forehead.

"Oh, I love you Bruce Wayne!" Your brain so fried it couldn't think of anything else. He kissed you deeply again, agitated, sloppy. Bruce Wayne kissed you like he would die if he stopped, his tongue drinking every single soft, keening sound it ripped from your throat while his relentless thrust wouldn't stop. "You know I do," you breathed out against his plush lips, now reddened from all the love given.

Bruce pulled himself back, taking you with him so that now you were straddling over his lap. His arms still wrapped firmly around you so that your shaky legs wouldn't fail to support your weight over him. At this angle, the head of his cock keeps hitting a deep, toe-curling spot inside you. A collection of stars danced and twirled in front of your vision like fairy dust.

"Touch yourself for me now, will you?" The tone of his voice so beautiful, gruff and throaty. Darkened with lust for you. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

You immediately nodded, the thought alone making you shiver in place. You brought your fingers to your lips and gave them a good lick before making them travel down your stomach to your tender clit. Bruce's eyes attentive to every single move you made as he continued to slowly thrust into you, handling your body up and down his cock.

Immediately the small bundle of nerves reacted to your own touch, your eyes fixed on your husband's as his jaw fell slightly open, his breathing heavy, mixed up with slight shy sounds of pleasure and faint words of admiration. "You're so perfect," Bruce continued, one of his big hands fixed strongly on your waist where it'd probably leave a bruise that would linger on your soft skin for days.

"And all yours," you moaned in his ear, the brunette immediately moving to suck and bite at your breasts again, his tongue moving sloppily over your skin while he looked up at you, the circular motions of your fingers never stopping as well as his thrusts, which made his cock deliciously throb inside of you.

The combined pleasure burned trough your core, and once again you could start to feel the pressure of your orgasm build and tingle in your belly. Bruce licked trough your sternum up to your neck where he continued to kiss and bite until you pulled him out using your free hand, your fingers harshly pressed on his jaw. The expression on his face so delicious, drool smeared on his chin, his pupils pooled with darkness, adorned with those beautiful long eyelashes you loved so much. "Tell me who owns you," your fingers pressed harder on his stubble, the motions on your clit faster, your hips desperately shaking against the vigilante's lap.

"You do," He breathed out, his hold getting tighter making your skins melt into each other. "My soul is only yours."

His admission made your walls clench, which elicited a grunt deep from his chest. You squeeze your eyes shut, head lolling backward in exhaustion.

You felt like you were floating.

"Oh, fuck." You announce loudly, your hips shaking back and forth. Every single atom, every nerve, every muscle, is wound up tight inside you like a spring-loaded weapon. Your inner legs are slick with arousal and sweat pools between your breasts.

"I'm gonna—" You gasp brokenly, the familiar tightening and tensing of your lower abdomen heralds the final peak of your desire and your walls squeeze around him in an instinctive, desperate attempt to garner more closeness. "Cum. I'm gonna cum."

Bruce gave a sweet little drawl of "please," his eyes looking up at you with expectation, his jaw dropped in pure, lustful awe as he continued to pull you up and down over his lap.

All the tension inside you snaps and your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your mouth hinges open in a silent cry as you came undone, your whole body tensing, forcing you to stop the stimulation on your clit. Bruce hasn't stopped thrusting into you, he says your name with feverous reverence, with glimmering absolution and greedy satisfaction. Praise dripping like rainwater from his mouth.

"You're so good, princess. You're— I—" and whatever else he would've said is swiftly pulled into the undercurrent of a bitten-off moan. He buries himself to the hilt, pressing your still heavy breathing body flush against his chest, shuddering as his cock swells and pulses inside you finally releasing his load, filling you with it to the brim.

You collapse over his shoulder, soulless and still sweating as your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers threading between the wet strands of his dark hair accompanied by tiny thoughtless kisses to his cheek.

Bruce waited until his cock softened inside you to pull out, wishing he could stay forever in your warmth. You try to murmur something to him but immediately give up, a sense of pride smolders his gut. He can still make you speechless. The brunette placed a soft kiss to your forehead and carefully moved to lay you down on the disheveled sheets before doing the same himself, it felt like a lifetime since he'd last laid in bed next to you.

He lays on his side, his fingers trailing softly across your jaw as your big bright eyes looked at him intently, your eyelashes fluttering at his sight. Your husband selfishly drinks in the sight of you in the muted glow of the artificial light, you're achingly lovely, and kind, and stupidly beautiful. Your bright golden spirit would be his ruin.

The back of his knuckles caresses your still reddened cheek carefully before he pulls you into his chest, his chin resting over your head while you cuddled against him, Bruce's big arms wrapping around you like they hadn't done in so long. "Don't leave me again," you manage and he pulls you closer, caressing your arm softly.

"I never did," Bruce placed a kiss on your head. "Even if you thought I did, I could never."

It made him furious how he had been so stupid, to let The Batman hurt you the way it did. He never wanted that, he thought that putting distance between you two was for the best... a way to keep you safe from the darkness of Gotham, from himself. Bruce never found himself quite deserving of you, but he had decided to let you happen to him, he thought it could maybe be good. Make him happy. But it now infuriated him how he proved himself right. He couldn't possibly deserve a woman as selfless as you were if he could only be selfish about having you, and hurt you even after he promised he would never do that.

"You're the light of my life," he blurted out unsurely. Bruce Wayne rarely revealed how he felt, but in this moment it felt right to tell the truth. The moment you made way for yourself in his world everything started to get illuminated by your endless brightness, your patience, your love, your care. If he had ever been happy after the incident, it had only been with you. "And I—"

He cut himself short, swallowing his words in a heavy sigh. He couldn't continue. "You don't need to say more," you smiled at him, your eyes starting to close themselves from the exhaustion as you rested your fingers softly on his cheek. You had always understood his struggle to put his thoughts into words and the fear that went along with it, you never took it personally. At least not anymore.

It made him feel worse how you were so understanding, how nothing he did could ever make you turn against him the way he deserved it. It was unfair but he couldn't bring himself to unclasp his claws from you. He knew, or at least he thought, it was selfish that he hurt you for the sake of his own happiness. You of course never saw it that way, for you it had always been a pleasure to love him regardless of the bumps on the road.

You knew what you were signing up for since the beginning after all.

Bruce hated himself as he saw you slowly give into your exhaustion, still thinking about how he couldn't bring himself to say what he truly meant. How he hadn't been able to do it for years now. The night moved past him as he held you close, drinking in every second of it as he intently watched your breath.

He was now a nocturnal animal after all.

In the morning you hoped to find yourself awakening still in his arms, the dreamy sight of his peaceful expression, the one he only had when he slept next to you and the nightmares didn't show up.

That wasn't the case.

Once again, you woke up like every day for the past few months. Alone.

Your body still naked and now slightly aching from the events of the previous night, ones that were now starting to paint bruised hues of blue over your skin as the only proof that it hadn't been just a dream like the ones you had had before. The room still exactly as you had left it before you drifted to sleep in your husband's warm embrace, except from a small note on the side table, his erratic handwriting making a clear contrast from the beautifully neat Wayne branded paper.

You took it between your fingers, brief words on it, some carelessly crossed out.

"Had to get to run, I'm sorry.

Love you,

Bruce."

Your heart stopped for a second, those two words explicitly coming from him after all this time. You had resigned to the fact that it would never happen, not even on a note. A bittersweet feeling immediately sunk into you. Bruce admitted to love you, but he still left you again, not even a "see you at dinner" to hope for. He probably wouldn't be there, he wouldn't lie either.

The heavy feeling of reality slapping you over your kissed out face, this was how things were. You could only hope that he had gone to Wayne headquarters and not to play hero on the streets... but how could you know.

Maybe his "for some time" just meant "for a few hours." You swallowed thickly.

Just another day in the harsh reality of your life.

The one only you knew.

#kore's writing #kore's fics #bruce wayne x reader

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