#bruce i am running you over with a car in my mind. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darling-i-read-it · 2 years

Text

Laugh

Joker x fem!reader x Bruce Wayne

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: violence, guns, fear, kind of a hostage situation. I am probably missing something lemme know

Author’s Note: this was inspired by the harleen comic which is fantastic if you haven’t read it already! I wanted to make both the Joker and Batman ambiguous to whoever you wanted to picture! I hope you all enjoy my impulsive joker fic lmao if you want a part 2 lemme knowwwww. okay back to requests lol

Summary: Bruce is always out doing god knows what. The night you get fed up and leave you get ambushed by the Joker in the streets of gotham

Genre: ????

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Bruce wasn’t home.

When was Bruce ever home, you wondered with dismay. Too often you came over to see him and it was just Alfred there. At this point, you saw him more than you saw Bruce. You should have known when you started a relationship with the infamous Bruce Wayne that you wouldn’t see him as much as you wanted to. You had tried so much to be understanding.

He just wasn’t there.

Ever.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” you muttered, running your hand through your hair. You hadn’t even bothered to get changed. Usually you waited until Bruce came back from business but you were slowly losing patience with him. Alfred could feel it in the way you stood up.

“Let me call you a car,” he offered.

“No, it’s alright. I’m really not that far away.” Alfred pursed his lips. He was still wearing his day clothes. You often wondered how much sleep he actually got. It was essentially superhuman.

“Master Bruce wouldn’t want you out walking this late.”

“Well then he should’ve come home,” you muttered. “Plus,” you said, scoffing. “The Bats out.” You pointed at the sky. The light was illuminating in the otherwise dark and gloomy night.

Alfred consistently had a hard time not telling you where Bruce actually was. But he knew it wasn’t his place to say. Bruce had to open up and tell you himself. But he could feel you slipping away every night, a little bit more as you reverted into yourself.

“Are you sure I can’t call you a car? For my sake.” You shook your head.

“I’m alright Alfred, really. Thank you.”

“Will I see you tomorrow night?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. You rubbed your eyes and grabbed your bag, shoving it in your pocket. You were so angry. Bruce claimed he loved you every time he saw you. He was loving and he was tender and then he was gone all over again. You were never sure when he was coming back. You would always be second to Wayne Enterprises.

It was cold outside. You felt the shiver on your skin. It felt like Gotham was never going to get warm in the summer but the second it did it would start to roast the trash in the alleyways and make the whole city smell. You walked quickly. You were starting to regret your anger denying Alfred. He had just been trying to help.

You glanced behind you in the darkness, trying to push Bruce out of your mind.

Still, you imagined him coming home to realize you weren’t there. How would he feel? Would he be angry? Unhappy? You imagined the distaste in his face in his stupid suit and clean pressed hair when he goes to bed alone. A part of you relished in it. He deserved to feel the way you consistently felt because of him.

How dare he. How dare he make you feel like this. You didn’t deserve it and he knew it. You deserve someone who would protect you and not let you go out at night like a crazy angry person like you were right now. You deserve someone who cared-

Bang!

You turned around quickly, almost falling over.

Bang! Bang!

Gunshots were ringing off the side of the building you were leaning against. You scrambled back, your heart racing in your ears as you tried to find the source of the noise.

Out of the natural Gotham smoke emerged the Joker himself. You recognized him instantly as though you had seen him in person before. You knew he wouldn’t hesitate with that gun he had in his hand. His laughter seemed to be echoing through the streets like he was bigger than he was. He could scale buildings with that laugh.

You slipped on your own shoe and fell over. Fear colored your face as you leaned against the wall, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

“He’s wasn’t very funny anyway!” the Joker exclaimed to a silhouette behind him. You breathed heavily but all you could hear was a funnel to his voice. Where was Batman when you needed him?

“Boss!”

You had been spotted but you couldn’t move. Someone was pointing a gun at you leisurely, gesturing at you. You put your hands flat against the wall behind you, trying to force yourself to get up. You needed to leave. You needed to run.

Joker walked up to you carefully, holding his gun to your forehead. You made no attempt to slip away. You felt the cool metal against your skin.

You stared up at him. He stared down at you.

His smile flickered into amusement. Like he wanted you to squirm and beg. You were silent, not even tears escaping your eyes. You just looked at him.

“It’s the cops!” one of his henchmen called. He dropped the gun to his side, leaving you completely unharmed. He looked at his men and then back down at you.

“Better scram sweetheart. Gothams full of dangerous people.” You pulled yourself up and nodded. He flashed you a smile and you were about to back away and finally run when there was a loud crash behind Joker. For some reason, the crash scared you more than he did.

Batman had arrived.

“Bats! I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up,” Joker said, an insane smile on his face. “We aren’t gonna do this in front of the lady are we? Bad manners!”

You couldn’t feel yourself breathing anymore. The looming figure of the Batman was staring at you. You slinked behind the Joker like he would protect you. You didn’t have time to rationalize your morals at that moment. All you knew is that the Joker had not shot you and it sure as hell looked like Batman was here to fight.

“You don’t get to play knight in shining armor Joker,” Batman said, voice gravelly.

“Oh I didn’t plan to be. I just got distracted! You’re all dark and brooding Bats, kinda hard to miss ya!” You stood evenly on both feet, trying to decide if you needed to run or not. You looked towards the looming alleyway for a moment and then back at the antagonists. Joker pointed a gun at Batman.

You slid away and booked it.

You had run for what felt like forever when you realized you had no idea where you were going. You had just been trying to get away. You could feel your chest heaving now as you leaned against a wall, closing your eyes. You felt far from safe but there’s no way anyone could try and rob you after that! The world was cruel but not cruel enough.

You looked desperately at the street signs. You were lost. Every street looked the same in the dark.

Your phone rang but it sounded far away. You struggled to get it out of your pocket, tears pricking your eyes. You had almost just died!

“Y/N?”

“Bruce,” you breathed. You wanted to cry but held it together. Your anger from earlier was all but gone. You just wanted to go home and take a very long and very deserved shower.

“Where are you?” he sounded remarkably serious which made your anger come back a bit. You had just gone through that and Bruce had the audacity to be mad at you for leaving? You knew it wasn't’ rational, there was no way he could’ve known, but still.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

What you didn’t know is that Bruce was jumping across buildings to find you. He had left Joker, actually left him, to make sure you were safe. The clown would surely live to fight another day. When Bruce saw you his heart sank into his stomach. You shouldn’t have been there. He should’ve been with you, back home.

“What street signs do you see?”

You peaked around the alley corner just to run right into someone. Your phone dropped and toppled, cracking. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. A white hand grabbed your arm and moved you in front of them so that you were both against the alleyway corner.

“My phone,” you whispered to yourself, pathetically. You looked at the man and met the familiar eyes of Joker.

“Fancy running into you again!” he said, smiling comically large.

“What happened to Batman?”

“Fled! I know, crazy huh.” He peaked around the corner. He had lost his gun back there. All he had now was some smoke bombs and a knife. He was too far away from the compound to head back there in the dark now. He had to shelter for the night. He pulled his knife. “You got a place sweets?”

The world really was that cruel.

“I don’t even know where we are!” you whisper screamed.

“I’ll get you a GPS.” You grabbed your cracked phone. Bruce had hung up in his attempts to find you. You wished he was still on the phone.

Joker had no actual plans. That made it all the funnier!

You stumbled around the streets. At some point he had dropped the knife completely and just followed you. You got home in remarkably good timing. Your place was one bedroom and a mess but a part of you was glad to be in a familiar place with an unfamiliar person.

“You got a pullout?” he asked, laughing through his teeth.

“Why should I help you? You’re the Joker! Don’t you have people for this?” He rolled his eyes, gesturing with his hand. He sat down on your couch.

“If you can find an untapped phone in Gotham, be my guest!” he put his feet up, his hands behind his head. He really believed you weren’t gonna hurt him. His eyes were shut like he was cozying in for bed.

“What, should I offer you water or something?” you asked, your voice mixing with amazement, fear and anger.

“If you got one! I could use something sparkling. Long run after all!” He peeked one eye open and that smile returned.

“I could call the police on you.”

“Are you gonna? If I remember, I didn’t kill ya. I’d say you owed me one.” You didn’t even have a response to that.

“If I take a shower are you gonna kill me?” you deadpanned. Both his eyes opened up.

“No. Be my guest. I could use one myself.”

“You broke my phone.”

“Save me some hot water sweetheart.”

“Y/N.” He smiled brightly.

“Jay.”

And you left the room. Your phone was broken. You hadn’t signed up for any kind of home phone. Who even uses home phones anymore? Maybe Bruce would be by to apologize. Maybe he wouldn’t.

You stripped off your clothes and you took a shower.

When you got out Joker was on the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water.

“That was a long shower.”

“It’s all yours,” you muttered.

“How will I know you won’t call the cops?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed in his face. He gave you a confused, slightly infuriated look.

“With what?”

“Point taken!” He slid off the counter, slamming the glass of water down. He walked up to you as you were ringing out the water in your hair onto the ground. He had to squeeze into the small hall that led to the bathroom. He made no attempt not to touch you. His chest brushed yours fully, his lanky hand on your elbow as he moved you aside. You stared at each other, directly into your eyes.

It felt kind of…electric.

He went in the bathroom. You had left him a towel.

“You have a good laugh!” he called through the muffled wall. You smiled a bit to yourself and looked down at your broken phone. You tossed it aside onto the counter. Bruce could worry a little more.

Part 2

DC Tag List: @karasong @elisaa-shelby, @alexxavicry, @demigirl-with-problems, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @caswinchester2000, @gxrlwithluv, @lov3vivian, @blkwayne, @wandering-poetess, @softiekayy, @navs-bhat@shownuflakes

#joker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman x reader x joker #joker x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader x joker #joker x fem!reader x batman #dc imagines #joker imagines #batman imagines

555 notes · View notes

anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

Note

uhh dinevudho if ur still takin asks then whatre ur thoughts on batman tryna convince a villain reader whos on the fence bout joinin the good side? i feel like this would be funny if bruce was actively talking to reader tryna to convince them and after like a few years, they cave in. even funnier if he just keeps pace with them as they try walk/run/hiding away from him 😭😭😭

ooh or a reversal- ish where after like years of serious thought and reflection, they consider joinin the heroes and bruce catches on like "?? holy shit its working??? fr????". this scenario feels more likely if reader was a villain for personal reasons that mellowed/calmed with time, usin the city as an outlet

hopefully ur not too sick 😕🥺 get better soon Anxia remember to rest well!!

I love this idea, especially with the thought of Batman just always lurking in wait to convince the Reader to join the good side. I just imagine him dropping in front of them on a mundane trip to the grocery store or them waking up to him looming over them like one of those people trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.

Not only would Bruce be trying to convince them, he’ll have the Batfamily and the Justice League seeking out the Reader and giving them a reason to join them and change their ways. Imagine just minding your business and Superman just flies in to tell you how good it is being good and how fulfilling it can really be. Or the Flash racing around you and speaking a mile a minute about how awesome it is to be a part of something as good as the Justice League.

Also the thought of Bruce beating up some random criminals and bringing them by the Reader and having them recite a script he gave them early about how terrible the crime life truly is and that the Reader should get out of it while they still could. Meanwhile, Batman’s nodding his head the entire time the criminal is going on with their forced speech, like “Yes, I agree with everything this criminal is saying and had no part in forcing them to do so.”

(Thank you so much, anon! I am startling to feel a lot better, hopefully I’ll be back to my usual non-sick self soon.)

#anxious answers #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere dc #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

246 notes · View notes

redhoodinternaldialectical · 24 hours

Note

5 and 8 for Jason, and 19 and 21 for Tim?

Hello laufire :D I've seen you around in my notes a fair few times, thank you for the ask!

Jason first bc I am predictable 😌

5. First song that comes to mind for this character?

Dana Dan by Bloodywood! I had it as his theme song long before I started headcanoning him as religiously Hindu and the music video feels all the more appropriate now that I do!

youtube

There are a LOT of runners up, sixteen in specific I could name off the top of my head bc I made a whole character playlist for him and I listen to it every time I drive (burned CD in my car :3)

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Hoo boy, that competition is FIERCE lol I try my best not to talk about it in terms of complaints though. That's just not the energy I wanna have most of the time. That being said, since you asked for some salt ye shall receive hehehe!

I think the through line of the most annoying stuff is that people will point at something Jason did in his villain era and twist it wildly out of proportion into something unequivocally EVIL and then everyone else will (incorrectly imo!!!) claim that it's out of character and due to writers that hated him and we should throw it out.

The worst example of this by far is his fight with Mia Dearden

First of all, it was written by JUDD FUCKING WINICK so yeah this was not a matter of an unfavorable writer!! Second of all, I think it's a goddamned masterpiece of a comic, and THE successor to UtRH

So like you have the second Robin, born into grinding poverty, having to commit crime to survive, joining up with a vigilante mentor, and killing someone for the greater good, and then being utterly destroyed... and then you have the second Speedy, born into grinding poverty, having to commit crime to survive, joining up with a vigilante mentor, and killing someone for the greater good, and then growing from that to become a fully fledged hero in her own right! So similar and yet their paths have been so different with Mia healing and becoming even stronger and Jason having been isolated and pushed to villainous extremes.

Then during that confrontation each of them know about the other through hearsay and research, but have never met before. Each make their own assumptions and then prove that they are more than what was assumed of them! Jason makes a deeply flawed but earnest attempt to try and connect with Mia and she rejects it because she has the support he never did and therefore has already long ago grown passed what has destroyed and consumed him!!

And some people REDUCE their fight to just "evil scawy Jason trying to hurt poor widdwe Mia"???????????????????????????? Might I challenge those responsible to a duel of paintball rifles at dawn?!?!?!?

Kinda the entire fucking point of an antagonist is to let the complexities and nuances of the characters shine, and that's doubly true of antagonists that used to be protagonists! Mia and Jason are such amazing narrative foils for each other, and tbh, Jason himself is an extremely good foil in general! On top of that the Arrows have long been foils of the Bats, so Bruce and Ollie also foil each other in the background brilliantly as Jason runs rings around them both!!!!

I would need to start pulling up pictures of comic pages and write a full length essay to get into proper depth with it (And I do intend to eventually!!) but the way they each interact with that fight and with their own histories going into it is great for both characters and it's just... gah... basically my favorite comic ever and it's stuck in this meaningless tug of war over "characterization" from two sides who both mostly haven't read the damned thing, let alone properly dug into the analysis of why Jason did any of that or what it might mean to Mia beyond just being unpleasant...

I would KILL to get DC to let me write a Mia and Jason comic. There's so much fun shit that they could do together, no matter if they were allied or enemies, I'm gonna have to write it as fanfiction tbh, but the fact that Green Arrow (2001) #69 - #72 is completely ignored until someone wants to use it as flat proof of 'Jason bad and ur bad for liking him' is just...

Le sigh...

Anyway what the fuck was I doing? Answering an ask lol??

Okay here we go: Timmy Time!

19. A relationship in canon that you don't like?

Its gotta be Steph simply due to how badly it was mishandled. As usual with female characters, I feel like Steph's nuance and strength as a character was in direct conflict with how the authors implemented her narrative role as a love interest. The fact that Tim was flat out casually misogynistic to her for her whole introduction and it wasn't treated properly as a flaw is a deal-breaker for me. The amount of Steph's Wikipedia biography that's Tim's love life makes me want to commit arson. The ship itself in isolation from much of the canon may have potential, and the canon material itself isn't all bad by any means, but to me the relationship still feels like a net loss.

21. I do indeed write, uh, a considerable amount of fanfiction about this dude, so: What's your favorite thing to do in fics when it comes to this character? Something that you don't like?

I like making him more unhinged. Or rather, I interpret his early actions as having been spectacularly unhinged, and like to imagine he kept that energy up into later years. I'm so not interested in Tim being a well adjusted person tbh I want him in my wonderful little Freak 4 Freak ship being spectacularly messed up and incredibly weird with nonsensical ideas about how boundaries work

For what I don't like... Hmmmm, this one's a little hard to answer because most of that falls into the neutral category of stuff I have no interest in writing at all, and so I just don't lol

I suppose I don't like to do apologies, though I have written one. I like to get down into the messy depths of sympathy and resentment by having him talk about those conflicts with the allies that have hurt him. However, I think the direct contrition and simplicity of apologies has less and less appeal to me the more I develop as a writer. Apologies retroactively cement an idea of fault and blame. I think there's more room for exploration in having the characters talk through all of the components of the issue without ever having that particular kind of confrontation.

Thank you very much again for the ask!!! I hope this was a fun read :3

#jason todd #tim drake #damian's tomfoolery

7 notes · View notes

theerrorofmylife · 1 year

Text

Crime Fighter pt. 2

- So.... part 2... you guys asked and you shall receive! I meant to have this posted for Christmas but oh well. I am not confident whatsoever in my abilities to write smut, so please be kind. This is not for minors- I repeat THIS IS NOT FOR MINORS you’ve been warned.

Content: Reader stops by the Batcave under Wayne Tower after Bats calls them over for help on a case. However, things escalate because they are both incredibly desperate for each other.

Here’s Part 1: Crime Fighter

Warning: Sex, Lots of sex, kissing, making out, fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, THESE TWO ARE HAVING SEX, swear words, etc., I’m not sure what I missed but I know I did- HAVE AT THEE!

Rain pelted my helmet as I wove between cars and trucks in the upper Gotham streets, and holy shit was it cold. Days seemed to blur together since the migraine incident, and weeks became months became casually getting invited to the Batcave every other day. I’ll be the first to admit that I spent days and nights losing hours over him. Moments and singular little phrases blurred together the more I thought about it. Seconds spent holding his hand after he’d help me on my bike, little light touches on my back when we walked into a crime scene, the way he looks at me when I walk up to him after a case-well-closed. The little whisper that night… “he would love you” … the vivid memory of his lips on my forehead. I couldn’t care less if Bruce Wayne, billionaire recluse, loved me. I wanted this man, my Bat, to love me.

The stairs were all I could focus on as I made my way into the cave. Our latest case was still running through my head on repeat, slowly driving me insane. A series of medical equipment manufacturing plants had been robbed over the course of the last month, tallying up to a total of 7 buildings and over 25 pieces of equipment stolen. We spent night after night in the cave trying to figure it out, trying to stop whatever was going on before it happened. Over that time, I got to re-meet The Bat with new eyes. This man loves this one takeout place on South St. it was actually hilarious. To be fair, it was growing on me as well. If only we had been paying attention to the tiny details rather than trying to figure out the big picture, we would have noticed the tiny desk plant that went missing from the 5th building. Poison Ivy was using medical equipment to create a toxin that would grow plants in peoples lungs. Now, I never mind a good monstera deliciosa, but I do prefer them outside of my body. But that wasn’t important right now. Right now, all I could think about was the way he pulled me to his chest, turned us towards a wall and caged me with his arms so that a glass beaker would crash into his back rather than my face. I still vibrated with the ghost sensation of his hands.

“You called?” As he turned to greet me there was a smile on his face, a grin that had become so much more frequent, reserved just for when we’re alone. Parking my bike near his, a nervous glee set inside me, and I couldn’t stop the grin. He still hadn’t taken to removing the mask for me, but I knew that would take time, more time than we already had. And I was patient. For him, I would be patient.

“There’s some evidence I need you to look at,” I walked up past him to look at the monitors. He didn’t move, only made room by making a small space for me to stand in front of him. “You were always better at seeing the bigger picture.” He was directly behind me, the arm leaning against the table pressed against my side, he was so close I was sure he could feel my heart speed up at the closeness.

“Am I now?” Yes, yes act coy and snarky, let him build the conversation because clearly, I’m way too distracted by his arm to do it myself. I felt him shift, moving behind me, the arm that was pressed into my side lifting so that his hand pressed against my lower back as he passed behind me. The warmth that sunk in and then completely dissipated was intoxicating.

“You know you are.”

“Mm, I thought you were the great detective here. Why do you need me?”

“I want you.” My heart nearly fucking stopped. The goddamn implication of that statement, the ideas that it gave me. Sure, I had thought about it, you can’t blame me when this hunk of brooding emotional baggage was around 24/7. Ever since I spent the night after my migraine, he became a plague on my most intimate thoughts. First just passing thoughts, fleeting ideas and images. Then little daydreams and purely innocent wants. But after a time, it became an infection; a shiver as his hand brushed my lower back, my thighs crossing as he looked at me a certain way, and the heady feeling when he put his hand on my knee during an interrogation. His hands were the curse that tortured me though, his hands were huge and the thought of them on my waist, on my thighs, dipping between them… I was a lost cause, and I knew it.

He seemed to realize the implication as well, his eyes on me, flicking about my face as if looking for the same reaction I was. I should fix this, I should speak up, I should SAY SOMETHING DAMMIT. My mouth opens and closes like a moron, and for a moment I think I’m suffocating because now his eyes are flitting between mine and my lips and oh god get it together. “Do you?” I'm an idiot.

“Always.” He sounded so breathless, as if he could not risk his words to disturb the space settled between us. Chills set upon my arms and not for the first time I was eternally grateful for his closeness. There was barely a few inches between us now, and I could practically feel the human radiator in front of me through my suit, but instead of overwhelming me with discomfort… I became desperate for his hands on me. An ache grew in my chest, a desperate need to be touched that damn near made me sick with nerves. Everything I ever wanted, and it’s right here waiting to make a move. My eyes moved from his to his lips and back again, only to find him staring back with a deep intensity that made my head dizzy. This silence was agonizing, and my hands shook from nerves. I got so focused on the fact that I was beginning to panic that I hadn’t even notice the few inches between us had become less than a few centimeters now, less and less by the second. When I felt his lips barely pass mine, the shaking inside me stopped, and the anxiety in my chest lodged in my throat as I pressed forward.

I have kissed many people in my time, each slightly different with the same overarching form of conduct. Every kiss before this one meant nothing when B kissed me for the first time. It was sloppy, I’ll admit, and it was clear he hadn’t really done it before, at least not in a long time, but he was a fast learner, and as his hands grabbed my waist to pull me into his chest, the force sent me reeling. I would like to say I was more elegant, less messy, but that wouldn’t be true. Because the moment I felt his hands and his lips and the way both made my head swim, I became so incredibly desperate for more that I could hardly be blamed for dropping all sense of decorum. When he broke away from me, I remembered that breathing was important and tried to regain myself as he leaned his forehead against mine. His hands tightened around my waist, and I felt the force with which he lifted me up and onto the table with ease. I barely sat on it, and a good portion of my thighs hung off the edge, but whatever care for stability I may have once had was overpowered by the concept of his hips between my legs. He looked down at me once more, and I nodded with extreme enthusiasm. I heard him chuckle lowly before his hand wrapped around the base of my jaw and he kissed me again. Clumsily, I pulled at his belt and tried to undo the clasp at the front. Instead of actually succeeding like I hoped I would B grabbed my hands, gently tossed them aside and did it himself. When the belt hit the floor, he began kissing my neck, inching his way down slowly, as his hand gently pulled at the waistband of my pants.

“Please…” He slipped one hand into my hair at the base of my neck as his other undid my pants, slipping into my underwear where the pad of his forefinger gently pushed against my clit. Jolts of sharp pleasure ran up my hips and I had to actively refrain from bucking my hips up against his hand. The rough fabric of his suit rubbed against my thighs as he shifted his stance, pushing my legs apart. He pulled my hair gently so that I leaned back only slightly, enough for him to place his lips against mine. My hands shook as I wrapped them around his shoulders, the wonderful sensation giving me jitters.

“Hey, hey look at me, is this ok?” He nudged my nose with his and I looked up into his eyes. Those ice blue eyes. I nodded very enthusiastically. “Is this?” His hand slipped further and brushed his fingertips against my entrance.

“Yes.” Slowly dipping his fingers inside me, I sighed at the stretch. I was by no means a virgin, I’ve had plenty of partners of varying origins, so sex was no major endeavor for me. Usually. B’s fingers were huge, and callused and two alone made me lose my breath. This nauseating weight started in my chest, and I felt myself tightening around his fingers and his other hand pulled away from my hair and grabbed my hips to pull them farther off the table. I was barely sitting on it now and I was beginning to feel pressure in my lower abdomen. Little moans and breathy pleas were all I could manage, it just felt so good. He slowly moved his hand, pulling his fingers out before slowly pushing back in, pushing the pads of his fingers against the inside. The pressure began to get intense and my hands on his shoulders clawed into the armor of the suit. He continued to move slowly, only removing his had from my hips to place his other thumb against my clit. With both his hands occupied I lost my ability to speak as my walls sporadically tightened and released with his fingers still inside me. I was breathless, gasping and rocking against his hand ever so slightly. After a few seconds he removed his thumb from my clit, then slowly pulled his hand away.

“What do you want? I need for you to tell me.” Fuck, words are the last thing I wanted to think about. Resting my head against his shoulder, I tried to regain my breath.

“For the love of all things holy, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m-” My back hit the table with a soft thud as he pushed me down. My pants, albeit having fallen low on my thighs, were tugged off all together. His hand on my chest stayed there as his other hand lifted my knees to rest on his shoulders. My breathing regulated easier while laying down but that didn’t stop my breath from catching when I heard this belt come undone with a click. His left hand left the loose belt, pushing between my legs again to rub my clit slowly. My eyes roll back, and I hear him take a harsh breath before letting slip a low groan. It took effort, but I leaned my head forward just enough to look between my thighs where I got a perfect picture. With one hand rubbing my clit with his thumb, the other was wrapped around his cock, moving up and down at the same pace as his thumb. His head was thrown back, eyes closed with his mouth open. He was big, bigger than I expected. I threw my head back gently, whining little obscenities as I tightened around nothing. “Mm!” I whined when his hand pulled away but sighed as I felt the light pressure of him lining up with my entrance.

“Shhhh relax, I got you.” His hand that wasn’t guiding his dick inside me came to rest on my hip, rubbing little circles with his thumb. He was slow to push in, taking his time to allow me to acclimate to the stretch. Again, 100% not a virgin, but holy shit. There was a slight sting, then immense pressure as he filled me to the limit and then some. The push was so satisfying and filling that it forced me to sigh out all the air in my lungs. He was easily 8 inches and him taking his time gave me the wonderful opportunity to feel every bit of him.

“Fuck…” I was gasping quietly as he slowed to a stop, I couldn’t feel his thighs against my ass which meant he wasn’t even fully in. I hadn’t even realized my eyes were closed, but when I opened them, I looked up to see his eyes closed, brows drawn in concentration, with his mouth slightly open to let out ragged breaths. To say that it was hot would be an understatement. My eyes were focusing and unfocusing as I watched his eyes open. His once ice blue eyes were darker somehow, and his pupils were blown wide. He looked predatory. Suddenly I felt the drag of him pulling out and then the heavy push back in. There was heavy friction that sent sparks of pleasure up my abdomen. It was absolutely amazing. He began moving, pulling out slowly only to push back in with force. It wasn’t anything erratic or rough, but it was firm and precise, like he was doing it on purpose. As much as I loved the slower pace, I was more needy than I realized, so I moved my hips with his. Slowly lifting to match his, he seemed to get the idea, grabbing my hips harshly. His fingers were bound to leave bruises, but I wasn’t opposed to that at all. I wasn’t opposed to any of this, finally having B to myself like this and knowing that I wasn’t totally crazy thinking he would want me like this as well. His movements were harsher, hitting deep and I slowly adjusted to fit him entirely so his thighs brushed against my ass as he moved. It felt absolutely amazing, the slow build of pressure below my abdomen creating a slightly nauseous feeling in my stomach. But that needed fast when he pulled out.

“B? No no please don’t sto-” I was pleading with him, there is no way he could be stopping now, I think I might kill him holy shit.

“Shhh, come’ ere.” He slowly pulled me to my feet and turned me before I could fall, “Is this ok?” I nodded, not entirely sure what he meant but I’d probably agree to anything if it meant he’d continue fucking me. He pressed me forwards till my hips were against the table and on instinct I laid down on top of it, my ass high behind me. His hands immediately grabbed my hips, lifting them off the table and realigning himself with my entrance. My toes barely grazed the ground beneath me and something about not touching the floor while he slowly pushed back into me was intoxicating. It was different, the drag of his cock in me was pressing against the pressure in my abdomen, increasing it greatly. His rhythm became so much harsher, snapping into me with a force that shook the table. I couldn’t do much but whine and try to breathe but every time he push back into me so hard, I heard his thighs hit my ass and felt the table shift, the air was forced from my lungs. Through my own sounds and the sounds of us together, I heard him from behind me, muttering explicatives through gritted teeth and groaning lowly. One of his hands tore away from my hip and I heard fabric moving before his hand hit the table above my head, holding his mask in his fist. His mask…. Oh fuck. He’d taken his mask off. I suddenly felt his forehead against my shoulder, his hair falling and brushing the side of my face. His lips pressed against my shoulder, then moved up my neck as he continued to move inside me. I was stunned. Not only was I beyond thinking with the overwhelming amount of pleasure running through my system, but I couldn’t move past the idea of him removing his mask. But his other hand pulling away from my hips, letting me softly settle on the table again before wrapping around to press his fingers to my clit distracts me, and I’m lost in the feeling again. I let out little moans with every thrust, barely able to keep my breath as the hot tightness between my legs grew worse and worse. His hips move faster, and the pressure is becoming more tangible as I feel a sharp tightening in my hips before an overwhelming release. It’s a confusing mix of tightening and relaxing as my walls contract around him. I try desperately to breathe through it, but my mind falls blank, and I can’t think of anything but the pleasure rocking through my body. B continues to move, slowing his finger on my clit to gently coax me through my high, his thrusts losing rhythm but not force. He kept moving in and out of me, breathing heavily, until he pushed all the way in and stilled. He buried his head in my shoulder, moaning loudly now as my body brought him over the edge, barely moving now. His hips jolted every now and then as he slowly came down from his high, heat flooding my lower body as we both slowly relaxed into each other.

“Mm,” he rubbed his face into my shoulder, “Are you ok?” I nodded slowly, still fuzzy in the head. He chuckled quietly, shifting to kiss my shoulder again. We stayed like that for several minutes, still pressed together, cum dripping between the two of us. Suddenly, with a sharp kiss to my cheek, he pulled out of me. I whined, the rush leaving me with nothing, no energy to move or string a sentence together. I stayed still, acutely aware that he still had his mask off. I may be… very dazed, but I had enough sense to know that if he wasn’t ready for me to see his face then I wouldn’t move until he wanted me to.

“B?” He hummed in response, “your mask?” He was somewhere behind me, and I didn’t have the energy to push myself off the table.

“Do you want me to wear it?” What a loaded question. I respected his privacy, his identity, and the deep-seated secrecy that comes with the job. But I also don’t think I could live without seeing him after this.

“No.” I heard him walking around behind me before a wet washcloth was placed beside me. His hands wrapped around my waist to lift me up. Once again, standing was not an option, but he held me up and turned me to sit back against the table. Looking up, I met his eyes, but now I saw the angular nose that accompanied them, and then his cheekbones, then his lips, and his jawline, and his eyebrows, and- “You…”

“Yeah…” Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, recluse, and... Batman. Of course, he was Batman, of course my Batman was Bruce Wayne, it made so much sense. The same night that had haunted me for weeks suddenly hit me like a truck. ‘He would love you’.

“You said… but if you’re…” He looked so worried, but it was his own fault for ruining any chance I had of a coherent thought.

“Is this ok?”

“Yes! But… that night, at the tower, you said-” He smiled, something he used to do only rarely.

“I know what I said.” But then… that meant…

“Do you?” With a low chuckle he shook his head, bright blue eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Yes. Now lay back.” My eyebrows shot up in excitement.

“Again?” This time he laughed, an actual laugh that was full and deep.

“Later, let me help you first.” I sighed in disappointment but groaned the moment his large hands grabbed my legs. I was still incredibly sensitive and the washcloth, no matter how warm and comforting, still rubbed my sore clit gently causing my body to jolt and shake a little. “I know, I’m sorry.” Once he was done, he gently helped me put my underwear and pants back on. I stood, leaning against him, and he helped me into the tower elevator. “Hey...”

“Hm.” I couldn’t really respond because I was trying to focus on standing rather than falling.

“I love you.”

@wolfie1494 @tumb3ld0wn @projectcampbell @niviiera @dur55 @spidercat

#batman #Battison #batman x y/n #batman x reader #battinson #batman2022 #smut #batmansmut #batman smut

94 notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years

Note

How's the no capes!verse going?

Is Jason in that actual Jason? Where are the other bat kids?

Alfred walked into the garage, immediately noting two things. It was clean, as far as garages went and, the woman bent over the car had a very nice figure- and a very filthy mouth. Albeit quietly.

"Excuse me," he said coughing slightly, trying to avoid startling you and failing.

"Son of a bitch-" you mutter, rubbing the sore spot on your head before turning and forcing yourself to smile- scaring customers was bad for business. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Alfred said offering you a hand, rescinding it when you show him yours are covered in grime with an understanding smile. "I've been looking for a mechanic-"

"This is a pretty likely place to find one," you tell him, grinning, "what exactly needs-"

"My employer is looking for someone to keep on retainer," Alfred explained. "He's rather hard on vehicles."

"An your employer is who, exactly?" you ask, a little guarded. You were good. Damn good. But you weren't going to take mob money... Not again anyway.

"Bruce Wayne," Alfred said, not missing the way your eyes narrowed. Smart girl, he thought. "I am Alfred Pennyworth- his butler," he explained.

When you give him a look, curious more than incredulous, Alfred smiled, "I handle many of Mr. Wayne's personal matters and my research into local garages lead me here. Though I fail to see how someone so young could have 50 years of experience."

You smile, gesturing vaguely, "I'm filling in for my dad- he's got the 50 years but he taught me everything I know. And I started holding flashlights and rustling tools almost as soon as I could hold a wrench."

"Ah, I see," Alfred said, "And your name is-"

"Y/N," you answer, trying not to read too much into the fact that less than a week ago Bruce Wayne had saved you from near cardiac arrest when Jason had run off and now here his butler was to offer you what was probably a pretty lucrative gig.

"Pleased to meet you."

"Like wise," you answer, rocking back on your heels. "Tell you what- You bring me his car after he does a number on it and I'll take a crack at it. You can take it to any other shop in the city and have them check my work- hell. You can even take it around to get other estimates first if you want. And if you think I'm up to scratch- well. We'll go from there."

"I'm authorized to-"

"Listen," you snort, "I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. And I'm not sure what occasioned this but I'm not taking anything I didn't work for."

"Very well," Alfred said, bowing slightly. "I'll keep you in mind next time Master Bruce wrecks his car."

#Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne #nocapes!verse #ask answered #minors dni

77 notes · View notes

spinnerofink · 5 months

Text

Gunner AU snippet I might not include in the final story but wanted to share here!!!

Context: Bruce is undercover with the newly-forming militia when he ran into an old friend from his training days. The two bond over music, concerts, and the violence of their childhoods.

It’s seven AM by the time that everyone filters out of the bar. Mikael passed Gunner his keys. Gunner sighed and threw himself into the driver’s seat. His prosthetics were starting to itch but he couldn’t scratch them. Mikael slumped in the passenger seat. “We can just go straight to the bunker. Do you have your gear?”

Gunner shook his head. “I was gonna pick it up tomorrow evening. Not even sure if I’m hired yet.”

“You’re with me, you’re basically hired. I run the Rattler’s crew. Same as I always did. Oh, you’ll like Jhenn. I hope Jhenn gets picked. But you? You’re a shoe-in.”

Jhenn. Tried to remember where he knew that name. Wished he had Alfred in his ear to check.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“It’s a good thing you’re sober. Part of the interview is mithridatism.” Mikael laughed. “I can’t imagine being hungover dealing with that.”

“Mithridatism? Like–”

“Like the Monte Cristo shit, yeah.”

Gunner turned askance at Mikael. “Since when do you read classics? I thought that was my thing.”

Mikael shrugged. “Since the boss won't shut up about [tktk monte cristo line]. I need to keep up somehow.”

He was out for revenge? Bruce filed that away as he started the car. Pulled out of the parking lot. “[repeats the line tktktk].” He was cut off from his pondering as the radio turned on. It was a gritty, screeching bassline. “Toadies came out with a new album?”

Mikael shook his head and laughed. “Nah, it’s a few years old. But it’s fitting, was jamming to it on the way over. The Rattlers crew all reunited.”

Sometimes, I wish I had the heart of a snake. With no compassion, comes no mistakes.

The Rattler’s Revival. “Why is he–”

“The Knight.”

“Why’s the Knight named everything after snakes? Did he take a page from the Crawlers?”

“Snakes are scary.” Mikael shrugged. “I don’t think he knows Crawley, no. He’s– the Knight is young. Crawley hasn’t done much since… 1999? That was his last bootcamp before his kids stole his attention.”

Gunner nodded. The Knight was young, looking for vengeance. That was a familiar feeling. Alfred had tried to hone him in. The stoic fathers memory had helped keep him in line, somewhat.

<You’re shedding your skin with your civilities!>

They drove along in silence for a while, listening to the song. It finally ended but something was stuck in Gunners head. “Do you have Rubberneck?”

“Do I have Rubberneck? Of course I have fucking Rubberneck.” Mikael put the CD in the player and Gunner rolled down the windows. The bunker was outside of town. The city lights turned into highway lights. The old truck flew over the bridges as Bruce remembered being seventeen again. “You remember going to see this live?”

“Rubberneck? Hell yeah. You’d just gotten cleared by Crawley. We stole some rations, drove all night to the Amarillo to see them play. Hiding in a rock all day then getting your shit rocked by a crowd in your first fuckin’ pit. You’ve always been a little stupid.” He laughed.

Yeah. Bruce had caught an elbow to the face as the singer had started a mantra: Do you wanna die? For the first time in Bruce’s life, felt like he didn’t want to. The shouting and running and chaos of it all… The bloody nose, the punches and shoves he shared with the boys in the pit– Bruce had felt more alive than ever. It was just a bunch of stupid kids getting their demons out. It had felt like home. As an adult, he wished he’d managed to sneak away from Alfred more as a kid, engaged in more of that consensual violence instead of trying to preserve his father’s highbrow legacy. Wished he’d rebelled more than the singular concert.

Or, two concerts.

Jason had begged, pleaded, to go see Poison Mind. Bruce had chaperoned, but he’d been too nervous for Jason to let himself lose. There were so many people– the pit was different, looked way more violent. Maybe because he wasn’t in it himself, maybe the years had made him cautious. Sure, Jason was Robin but, he was scrawny still without his armor. He’d been pinballed around by the crowd, picked up and tossed around. But everyone’s faces had been chaotic and joyful. The same he’d seen at the Toadies concert. Seeing Jason bloodied with a newly loose tooth had made Bruce feel like a failure, even as he’d fistbumped everyone in the crowd after. For once, he’d been The Cool Dad.

The memories mixed together, the teen Bruce half-hanging out the window beneath the starry Texas sky as he and Mikael and Jason all screamed along: Do you wanna die? Had he ever told Jason about that night? His one night of rebellion? Maybe he and Jason could have connected more if he’d shared it… Shared anything about his past.

He wiped a tear away. Mikael was still slumped in the seat. “You remember trying to drive back home with a bloody nose? I never did get that stain out of the seat.”

“Couldn’t have been much bigger than when your stitches popped open on your ear.” Gunner shot back.

Mikael grumbled and smiled. “What I’m hearing is, you’ve been the biggest pain in my ass for a few years now.”

“Sounds about right.”

Mikael stuck his face out the window. Tyler was playing, the droning slow-tempo drums sounded like Poison Mind had. Could almost picture Jason in the backseat, curled up in exhaustion, new band shirt pillowing his head.

“I should have gone to more concerts.”

“Huh?”

“I took my son to a concert a few months back. Some… Gotham black metal band. It reminded me a lot of that Toadies show. Those are… the only two shows I’ve been to.”

“For real?” Mikael looked incredulous– Gunner felt a sense of pride at being one of the rare few to put Mikael on his back foot. “Fuckin’ hell, you act like such a punk I figured you were one.”

“Yeah. I only ever went to two shows. I’m a fuckin’ poser.”

“Dunno if I can let you on my crew if you’re a poser.” Mikael teased. “We’ll get you to another pit. Maybe your kid can come too.”

Gunner was silent. His hands flexed on the wheel.

“It’s Gotham.” Mikaels voice was apologetic as he stared out the window. “I get it. And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Like you said. It’s Gotham.” Gunner shrugged.

“What kinda music did he like?” Mikael asked.

“Poison Mind. Woods Witch. More black metal than rock.”

“You would raise a metalhead.” Mikael shook his head as he opened the glovebox and thumbed through his albums. “I don’t have much metal. Maybe we could check out a record store after orientation. If you’re feeling up to it after your interview.”

Right. He was here on a mission. No use reminiscing the dead. “Any idea what the inoculation is gonna be?”

“Fear toxin. Typical for Scarecrow, but this is… some new strain. It… lingers.”

Okay. Fear toxin he could do. “Maybe we should just go to a show after. Get some of the energy out.”

“Sure, until the corpse paint starts looking too real. That’s the last thing you need. I am not babysitting you.”

Gunner shrugged. “Might be exactly what I need. Consentually bodyslam some fuckers.”

“Geeze. Fine. I’ll see if I can get us info for a show tomorrow night. But you’d better make a good impression on the Knight at orientation.”

“Invite him. Call it teambuilding.”

“With the way he fights? No fuckin’ way, man. He’d be a monster in the pit.”

#my writing #gunner au

5 notes · View notes

lily-drake · 2 years

Text

Peter and His Pixie

Neverland is home to Lost Boys like me, And Lost Boys like me are free

After a year of collecting money he was almost able to afford the private investigator that was highly recommended by Gotham’s middle class, he just needed a bit more. He’d find his Pixie no matter what, she was his Pixie after all. He looked around for a good car to steal parts from when he saw the jackpot. The Batmobile. It looked like it had just gotten new tires, but the hubcaps hadn’t been replaced yet. Surely he wouldn’t mind if he took those old things, it was for a good cause after all, and Batman was known for his “good causes”. Looking around he didn’t see anyone so he quickly got to work. After years of doing this, he was able to remove and hide the first three tires. He was headed back for the forth when he heard a deep voice say,

“Coming back to finish?”

He jumped and held his tire-iron out in defense when his eyes landed on the big bat himself. He turned to run, but wasn’t able to get far as the dark figure lured over him and grabbed the hood of worn out red hoodie. He wasn’t afraid though, he couldn’t afford to be afraid, he needed to find his sister d*it!

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Tightening his grip on his weapon he grit his teeth. He wasn’t going to get out of this, and it would do more harm than good to attack him. He would just have to find a few more different cars to steal from. With a sigh he said,

“I’ll put ‘em back.”

Batman raised a brow and stepped aside and released his hood, but still kept close enough to grab him if he tried to run again. He got the tires out of their hiding places and quickly reattached them. Once he was done he tried to leave but the stupid bat grabbed him once more.

“Come with me.”

Oh no. He had to get away now .

“Like h***. I put ‘em back now, leave me alone.”

It seemed he didn’t have a choice though as he was thrown into the Batmobile and the hatch closed when the Bat was in too which meant that he no longer had a way of escape. The next thing he knew was the car was speeding off at nearly impossible speed and soon after he was in a dark cave. The hatch opened, but Jason didn’t dare get out now. He only dared to peek out slightly where he saw an old nicely dressed man standing and waiting there for them.

“Oh goody, company.”

The old man said with a heavy British accent. He stayed on guard, he doubted that any good could come from being taken by The Batman.

“Please do follow me.”

The man said again, as he turned to walk away. Jason turned and saw Batman staring at him, he quickly followed the old guy not wanting to be near Batman in case he got any other ideas. He followed him to some stairs and stayed a few feet behind him as he followed to make sure there weren’t any traps. He was led to a hall that looked extremely fancy. He felt out of place in his torn up hoodie and torn jeans. He was led to a room where the man opened a large door and walked inside first, as if to demonstrate that there was not a trap there.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor young master. My name is Alfred Pennyworth and I am at your service. I will try to find some suitable clothes while you go wash. I will also provide a warm meal, please ask if you need anything.”

After that he walked away. Wait. Did he say Wayne Manor?! As in playboy Bruce Wayne’s manor?! He hesitated before he cautiously went into the room as there was still a chance that there was some type trap set in place for when he entered. The room was big, too big for comfort. It was cold, then again he’s always been cold since he lost his Pixie Dust. Some stupid Captain Hook took her from him. He needed to save his Pixie back! He looked around the room looking for any recording devices. When he found none, he went to the bathroom and did the same thing before he dared to even touch his hoodie. When he was done looking and concluded that there was indeed nothing there, he stared at the large bathtub/shower. It was big, fancy, and filled with bathing supplies. Maybe a bath wouldn’t hurt, he honestly didn’t remember the last time he took one.

He closed and locked the door, checking multiple times that it was really and truly locked, he stripped and stepped into the warm water of the shower. He washed his hair multiple times until brown and gray stopped coming out from his hair. It felt nice to be clean again, he would have stayed in the warm water for the rest of his life if he were able. But the thought that somewhere out there, his sister could potentially be being beaten, dead, or worse…raped, filled his mind and all he wanted to do was get out and go back to searching for her. He needed to get back to his safehouse where he kept all of his cash. He just a little more then he could find her! He could nick something from the manor here, he doubted the man would miss it, and that would be more than enough to pay for the investigator! But, that’s not what ended up happening in the end.

________ He lived with Bruce for about a year and became his Robin a few months after he took him in that fateful night. It was August when he felt small aches and pain in random places. He was used to it as he sometimes felt them before he got adopted by Bruce, but they felt more frequent now. He often felt uneasy, but it wasn’t the manor, it was something else. He just didn’t know what yet.

________ He didn’t fully trust Bruce yet, even after a year of being with him. He didn’t want to tell him about his sister, but he must have known about her by now. He highly doubted they hadn’t checked his background, yet Bruce had never mentioned anything about her. He did all his research for her at the library, he refused to risk it. He didn’t want his sister roped into his new crazed life if he did find her. He knew she’d try to get herself involved if she knew. He was able to narrow down his search, but he still hadn’t found her! He hired the investigator, a better one than the guy he was going to use from before, but he hadn’t been much help yet.

________ Gotham Academy was …interesting. He hated the uniforms, but he was just happy that he was able to go back to school. Unfortunately it was very uptight, and everyone there were snobs that looked on him even though he currently had the highest marks in almost all of his classes. He knew he didn’t belong there, he knew he was just a street kid who got lucky, but dang it if he wasn’t going to take advantage of everything he could get before Bruce finally saw that and kicked him back out onto the streets. He hoped beyond all belief that his sister was ok, that may be she too was at least receiving a good education wherever she was. He hoped she got lucky and was able to escape if she was put into a horrible place like his thoughts often imagined. She would probably fit in here. She always had this magical way of attracting people to her.

________ Bruce just didn’t seem to understand. These people were ruining Gotham! It was best to take them out before they do any more harm to the city because he knew that they wouldn’t be prosecuted. The system was too corrupt! He’s not saying they need to kill them, just make sure that they can’t hurt anyone else by giving them a permanent injury or two. Gotham will never get better if they keep breaking out of the revolving door that is Arkham and Blackgate just to continue to hurt more and more people. As he was looking through some information on the Batcomputer he noticed a file off to the side. It was information he had gathered from Jason’s search for his sister. Bruce had been going through his information even when he wasn’t using any of his personal things to do his own search for her. There was a message from the investigator he had hired that stated that it appeared that she had been taken to Ethiopia. Why would Bruce hide this from him? There were notes next to the message saying how it might not be true, but he didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t have time to waste, he didn’t have time to ask Bruce to take him there, and didn't want to risk him saying “no” when she was so close! So he left, he was going to bring her back to him even if it was the last thing he did.

________ It turns out what he did was a terrible decision. He didn’t think that the man would trick him so that he would run right into the Joker of all people. Now here he was beaten to a pulp by the Joker by a crow bar about to die in an empty warehouse with the only thought being that he needed to escape so that he could find his sister. He didn’t want her to find out that he died if she ever returned. He just wanted to see her smile one last time. The bomb slowly ticked down as memory after memory played through his mind as he wiggled the locked handle that lead to the outside world. Tears slipped down his cheek as he chanted over and over in his mind,

“Sorry Pix, I wasn’t able to find you, I’m so sorry. Please be safe, please be alive, keep going for me.”

3…

2…

1….

Batman was moments too late. The bomb exploded and with it Jason.

________ Marinette was now 23-years-old and aching in the invisible grief that devoured her life. She just wanted to go home. There was nothing left for her anymore in Paris. She had taken the black cat, butterfly, and peacock miraculi back and made sure that Gabriel and Natalie were placed behind bars for their crimes. Now that she and her class were adults she no longer had anyone to protect. So with the money she saved from commissions she bought a ticket and flew back to Gotham, back to her home. She had to see if her brother, her Peter that made her want to fly away, was still there, still looking for her. She was bouncing in anticipation, she couldn’t wait to see him after so many long and painful years. She just knew she’d recognize him if they crossed paths, she just hoped he’d recognize her.

It was night, which was a terrible time to be out. She didn’t mean to leave this late, but she was held back at the grocery store line. As she walked back to her apartment, pepper spray clenched tightly in hand, she listened for even the smallest of sounds as she continued her walk past the alleys. When she began to hear footsteps behind her she turned a corner and waited for the person foolish enough to think they could trick her. Never again she told herself. Never again would she fall victim to another person’s schemes to use her for their own personal gain.

The sound of footsteps stopped at the mouth of the alley and when she saw the figure turn she sprayed the pepper spray in the person’s eyes. She heard the giant man scream in pain as she kicked him in the groin and kicked his temple successfully knocking him out. She knew how to play dirty, she knew playing dirty was the only way to survive in this place. She looked up and saw a figure on the roof above her. She looked up the vigilantes here to see what she had missed, there had been three new Robins since she had been taken, and one of them went missing, many theorized he was killed. The original moved on and became Nightwing. But the one on the roof was definitely not the current Robin. This one was big and had a hideous red helmet covering his head.

“Hey, are ya gonna come help?”

She called. He had been watching her for a bit, and she didn’t know why. When the figure landed beside her she studied him closely still on guard. It seemed he was watching her just as intently.

“New here?”

He asked, the helmet distorting his voice to sound more cold and mechanical, yet he still sounded almost familiar.

“No, I lived here for the first eleven years of my life. Was taken and shipped to Paris while on the streets.”

He also felt familiar. Something in the back of her mind said that she could trust him, and she had learned early on in her time as Lady Beetle to never ignore her instincts.

He lifted his hands to touch his helmet in certain places at the back of his head as if to take it off. She got ready in a battle stance and prepared herself. But she wasn’t prepared. No. She wasn’t prepared at all. There he stood. She didn’t need to see his eyes to know who he was. He had his face, there were even a few scars on his face where she had patched him up. She knew this man in front of her, she had known her for all of her life before she had been stolen from him.

“Peter?”

“Pixie Dust?”

She broke. She ran into his arms and sobbed. He held her tightly to him as well, gently swaying them side to side for a bit before he leaned down and whispered,

“Can I take you back to my safe house? We can talk there.”

All Marinette could do was nod against his chest. Goodness he had gotten so tall! With that confirmation he quickly lifted her in a backward piggyback hold and ran back to his safe house, to their safe house.

“I d-didn’t mean t-to be taken. I t-tried to fight. I-I…”

“Shhhh…. It’s ok Pix. It’s ok now. I’ve got you. I know for a fact it wasn’t your fault.”

Tears fell down both the siblings' cheeks as they were finally reunited.

“I’m s-so glad I f-found you.”

“Me too Pix. I never stopped lookin’. I swear it.”

“I know.”

Now, Red Hood had plans that night. He was going to stake out a warehouse near Crime Alley where people thought that they could bend his rules then plot a course of action to teach the morons a lesson on why you follow the Red Hood’s rules; but when he saw familiar dark hair, when he saw those blue eyes in the dark, when he saw her take down the man with moves that he had taught his sister, he just had to be 100% sure. He needed to check to make sure it was really true. So when he talked to her, listened to her voice, saw the freckles on her face, the familiar scars from when they were on the streets, he knew that whatever his plans for the night were, they were not important anymore, in fact he could always deal with the fools tomorrow. He had his sister back and she had her brother back, and if Marinette had any say in what would happen next he knew that they would rule the Underground together. She had been just as intricately involved as he had when they were on the streets. She knew what the drug trade was like, what criminals were like when they thought they could do whatever they wanted with no consequence. They both lived through the consequences of those exact actions. If the bags under her eyes and the aged look of a warrior returned from battle had anything to say, she’s seen more than they ever should have while she was away. For now though, for now they could simply exist together. Brother and sister reunited after so many years of loss.

Jason hummed a gentle song to his sister, as he continued to rock her as she cried deeply into his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, she used to love the feeling whenever he did it before, and placed gentle kisses on the crown of her head every so often.

“I missed you.”

She would whisper.

“Me too. I’m so glad you’re back.”

He would whisper back.

“I love you Peter.”

“I love you to my Pixie Dust.”

And it would repeat until the early hours where they both fell asleep desperately clinging to the other as both prayed that this wasn’t a dream and that they were indeed reunited at last.

~End~

Taglist:

@mystery-5-5 @aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246@queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo@crazylittlemunchkin@seraphichana @miraculous-ninja @dorkus-minimus@mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777@fidget-eep@sometandomstuff333 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @shreeing @achaoticmess1 @liquid-luck-00@buginetye @stainedglassm@prettylittlebutterflie@laurcad123 @iloontjeboontje@heartsong18@raeuberprinzessin @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jennifer-rose123 @moon5608 @corporeal-terrestrial @skitarii-alpha-c6-555@saltysugarysembei @phantom120@kking13@depressed-bitchy-demon

102 notes · View notes

theycallme-thejackal · 2 years

Text

@wonderlandleighleigh really wanted the road trip fic, so...here’s a rather long road trip fic (that I had to write twice because tumblr crashed).

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated M Warnings: Sexual Content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“If our ancestors could see us now.”

They’re sitting on a bench two hours north of Phoenix while the attendant fills the gas tank. Midge looks over at Lenny and licks her ice cream. “They’d wonder why the fuck they spent forty years wandering the desert only to watch us wandering a new desert.”

“Yes, but we have ice cream,” he points out.

"Right. I’m pretty sure the Israelites didn’t have ice cream three thousand years ago.” A drip of ice cream slides down the side of her cone thanks to the Arizona heat, and she licks it away before turning to look at him again. She giggles quietly. “You’re staring again.”

“Trying to figure out a joke about what you just did to that ice cream cone.”

She quirks a brow. “Nothing yet?”

“You’re the authority on dick jokes. I’ll just stay in my lane.”

“And it’s vanilla. So many jokes can be made about a licking a vanilla ice cream cone.”

He laughs.

---

Lenny takes the next leg of the journey, and Midge sits next to him much closer than necessary.

Right against his side closer.

His arm is draped over the seat behind her, his fingers stroking her bare shoulder occasionally, and it’s nice to be with him like this. Like they’re a real couple. They haven’t talked about anything real yet, but it feels like they’re headed in a positive direction. The direction they were headed before Carnegie Hall and his conviction in New York.

“Oh my god,” she breathes as she looks out the window. “Lenny, we have to stop here,” she says.

“Why? We’re only two hours from the California border.”

“Because look,” she says, pointing out the window.

He follows her gesture. “Oh my god.”

He parks a minute later, and they both get out of the car, walking up to the building. Both comic approach wide eyed and uncharacteristically silent. Because in front of them is the most insanely garish thing Midge has ever seen in her entire life.

The Rusty Bolt is a bright green building with two porches. There’s a pink Edsel parked out front. But the most insane part of all the insanity...

There are mannequins. Everywhere.

There are some on the upper porch and the lower. There are some in the yard out front. A few on the roof. There’s one dressed like Elvis leaning against the back of the Edsel.

They stand there and stare at it for a long, long time.

“Lenny...”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m having a malfunction.”

“Too many jokes?”

“Too many jokes!” She cries. “I could talk for three hours and not run out of jokes about this place!”

“Only three hours?” He teases.

“Four if I really put my mind to it.”

“Atta girl.”

---

“Lenny, I am not eating here!” She laughs as he tugs her by the hand.

“Why not?” He asks with a smirk, walking backward toward the building.

“It’s called the Roadkill Cafe!”

“C’mon, there’s no way they serve actual roadkill,” he says, tugging her forward and wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

---

“They have definitely served roadkill there,” she says as she walks into the motel room.

“It’s not like we ate roadkill.”

“No, because I made sure to order something I knew wouldn’t touch the stove.”

He laughs and sets their bags down before closing the door. “This is fun,” he says when she turns to face him.

Midge raises a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not - I’m not surprised,” he says truthfully. He rubs at his jaw for a moment. “I just...the last few days, I’ve been worried about what it was going to be like when I got back to the real world. And it turns out it’s really nice. Because...because I’m with you,” he explains a little shyly.

The smile she gives him is bright and genuine, and she steps toward him, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing him softly.

They don’t talk much after that.

---

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Lenny’s arm is draped over her waist under the sheets, his fingers delicately tracing random patterns over her naked back. Her hand cups his jaw, and she enjoys the way his stubble gently scratches her fingertips as she caresses his face.

“I thought about calling instead,” she admits. “But...then I realized - ”

“You didn’t know how to contact me. Couldn’t get that information from your spook brother?” He teases.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” she responds. He raises his brows. “I...I realized that if...if I had gone through what you did for the last couple of months, the thing I’d want to do most when it was all over...” She swallows thickly. “Would be to see someone who loves me, and - ”

He cuts her off by kissing her soundly, causing her to inhale sharply through her nose. He rolls her onto her back and presses against her, making her gasp against his lips as she drags her leg up to hook around his hip. “Lenny, I was - I was trying to tell you - ”

“I love you too, Midge,” he whispers, pulling away and meeting her gaze. “The first thing I was going to do when I got out was call you and tell you that.”

She feels tears pricking her eyes, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you,” she breathes as she tenderly rubs her thumbs along his jaw. “And I missed you so much.”

He kisses her lips. Then her cheek. Her neck. “I missed you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs against her clavicle. “You have no idea.” He continues kissing his way southward until he can settle between her legs and work at making her scream again.

---

The alarm goes off at eight, and Lenny rolls over, hitting the snooze button before curling back around her. She kisses the hollow of his throat. “We need to get up,” she murmurs.

“Not ready,” he grumbles, nuzzling his nose against her hair. “Ten more minutes.”

Midge giggles and tilts her head up for a quick kiss. “You can have ten more minutes while I shower,” she says as she slips out of bed.

That seems to pique his interest, though, and he joins her in the bathroom a few minutes later.

Three hours later, they cross the border into California, and Midge peeks over at Lenny. He seems more relaxed today. She’s not sure if it’s because it’s his first full day out of treatment or because of all the sex, but she’s choosing to give herself the credit.

The windows are rolled down, and he lights a cigarette, passing it to her after taking the first puff. “Tell me about Kitty,” she says.

She looks at him long enough to see the smile form on his lips before she looks back at the road. “She’s amazing, Midge,” he says with a softness she rarely hears in his voice. “She’s six and smart as a whip. Started reading at five years old.”

“That’s early,” Midge replies, impressed.

“Right now she lives with my mother, who you’ll also meet today,” he explains, and Midge feels a little nervous about that. “But once I’m back in New York and settled, I want her to come live with me.”

“You’re moving back to New York?” She asks hopefully, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering a little more aggressively.

“My lawyers have been working on the appeal, and they think I’ve got a good shot at not ending up in a workhouse. Especially since I voluntarily went to rehab.” He takes the cigarette back when she offers it, and he takes a drag as he looks at her. “Besides...I really want to make this work,” he adds.

Midge feels her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip gently before looking at him for a moment. “I do, too,” she says.

He slides over, sitting closer to her and draping an arm over the seat as he kisses her cheek.

---

They stop one last time in Amboy for gas, but when Midge’s stomach rumbles loudly, making her flush with embarrassment, Lenny suggests they grab a bite at the cafe before finishing the drive.

“This place looks like it probably doesn’t serve roadkill,” she says as they slip into a booth.

“Probably,” he says with a smirk.

They eat their sandwiches, and Midge steals some of Lenny’s fries and forces him to have a couple bites of her side salad. “Vegetables are good for you,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mocks teasingly before picking up his sandwich again. “So how’s everyone back east?”

“Still kicking,” she says. “Papa’s writing a lot, and Mama’s matchmaking business has exploded.”

“Literally?”

“Figuratively.”

“Thank god.”

She smiles. “Susie finally managed to get everything square with Frank and Nicky - ”

Lenny raises his brows. “How’d she pull that off?” He asks.

Midge sighs as she stabs her salad. “Mei’s family may have dealt with them.”

“Ah.” He takes a sip of his water. “The Lins are scary people.”

“Yes, they are,” she agrees. “And Joel...well, he’s stopped hitting on me for the time being, so I’m grateful for that.”

Lenny eyes her with something she can’t quite identify, and she furrows her brow at him. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I just...really hate your ex-husband,” he sighs.

“I’m not exactly his biggest fan either,” she drawls.

“When was...” He trails off, seemingly thinking better of the question.

“The last time he tried something?” She finishes.

Lenny looks a little embarrassed about the question. “Sorry, I know we weren’t together, but - ”

“No, you deserve to know what you’re walking into,” she says, reaching out and squeezing his hand gently. “It was...six months ago. He showed up at my apartment after his bachelor party.”

“Fuck,” Lenny mutters.

“We didn’t,” she promises, getting a half smirk out of him. “I immediately turned him away. He was...pretty relentless, though. Joel is used to getting what he wants. Thankfully Noah was there to get him into a cab for me.”

“I’ve never met your brother, but I like him already,” Lenny comments.

Midge smiles. “He’s the best,” she agrees, stabbing her salad with her fork. “Even if he does work for the government,” she adds jokingly, and Lenny chuckles.

---

Lenny drives the rest of the way since Midge doesn’t know how to get to his mother’s house, and when the area becomes more residential, she looks over at him. “Are you sure I’m not imposing?” She asks a little nervously. “I don’t want to put a damper on your reunion.”

He reaches for her and takes her hand in his. “I want you here,” he promises, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it. “Kitty will love you, and Ma will either love you or deal with it.”

“Gee, that’s comforting.”

He pulls her toward him, and she leans against him as he returns his hand to the wheel. “Ma is only concerned with two things: Kitty and my career.”

Midge furrows her brow at the wording as she looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

Lenny sighs through his nose and reaches for the cigarettes. Midge takes them and pulls one out, lighting it for him before passing it. “Ma always wanted to be famous. She was a comic. And a stripper. She probably could teach those girls at the Wolf a few things,” he comments with a shudder, making Midge laugh softly.

“She wasn’t really present when I was a kid. And my dad...I don’t even know where he is - or if he’s even alive. But when I started doing comedy, she...got interested.”

Midge squeezes his knee gently. “I’m sorry, Lenny. That must have been really hard for you.”

He exhales some smoke out the window. “It is what it is. And I really wanted to be a good dad to Kitty, but...”

She nods in understanding. “You’re on the right track now,” she promises. “I saw the way you talked about her earlier. You’re gonna be a great dad.”

He passes her the cigarette and takes the hand settled on his leg. “I hope so.”

---

He parks the car in front of a nice, modest-looking house in West Hollywood, and Midge adjusts the mirror so she can check her hair. “You look beautiful, Midge,” he promises, gently pulling her chin toward him so he can look her in the eye. “Beautiful.”

Lenny slides out of the driver’s seat and rounds the car to open her door and let her out. He threads his fingers with hers as they make their way up the sidewalk together. When they get to the front door, he turns to her and takes a deep breath. “You’re about to meet my kid. Last chance to back out.”

She smiles up at him and squeezes his hand. “Never,” she promises.

He kisses her softly and then knocks on the door.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #otp: more important than god #jackal fics

47 notes · View notes

alixinwwonderland · 1 year

Note

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

It has been a very, very long day.

Midge isn't complaining, to be clear. The NBC gig is the biggest step in her career yet, and it turns out that she really enjoys working in television - something she hadn't expected. There's a whole new crew of people who have quickly gone from work acquaintances to actual friends, and it turns out that it's really, really nice to have more than one or two friends "in the business."

That being said, however, their friendship can't fill one very specific void in her life. Specifically, the one left by a particular tall, curly-haired comic who she hasn't seen since a bittersweet airport run-in that left far too many things unsaid.

She always knew that, if they crossed that line, things wouldn't ever be able to be the same. What she didn't expect was him fucking off to California, just days after handing her her ass (and multiple orgasms), leaving her to dwell on... well, a lot of things: what she could have done differently, what he might be doing now, whether all is really as "well" as he claimed, what his hands felt like on her...

Most days, she's able to push those thoughts out of mind. Today, though, was a two-episode filming day, her mother is in a flurry over some petty act of sabotage, and Joel is being particularly Joel. In short, she's too tired to fend off the thoughts and the longings that creep in when she lets her guard down.

So when she stumbles out of the studio, declining the crew's offer for a late-night bite, all she wants is to go home, take her shoes off, and pretend that she's not wishing she had someone to go home to.

Despite working side-by-side with Alfie, Midge doesn't really believe much in magic. That is, until the voice she most wants to hear emerges from the shadow outside the stage door entrance.

"That was quite the show tonight, Mrs. Maisel."

She whips her head around just in time to see Lenny pushing himself forward from where he was leaning against the wall. Her eyes can't help scanning over him, eagerly searching for any clues about what he's been up to since they last saw each other. There's a familiar exhaustion in the slouch of his shoulders and something unsettled in the twitch of his fingers. But his face looks a little fuller (though those cheekbones should still be in an art museum somewhere), his eyes are as clear and sharp as ever, and the little smile playing at the corners of his mouth has the same effect it always has on her.

"Gee thanks, Mr. Bruce," she says. "Someone told me 'just work, and keep working,' so. Here I am. Working."

"Sounds like a very wise someone," he quips.

"Sometimes. Other times, he's a complete bonehead who can dish out advice but won't take it," Midge says pointedly. He at least has the grace to look abashed.

"It sounds like maybe he just needed a little time after the right someone gave him some tough advice. Maybe that's something you can relate to?"

And damn him, because of course she can. That's always been at the heart of their... whatever this is. They're nothing alike on the outside, save for their signature color and chosen profession. But inside, where no one can see, something within each of them found something kindred from that very first police car ride.

"Maybe," she allows. "But I'm still mad! But..." She takes the risk, reaching up to smooth at his lapels and leave her hand there. "I'm also really happy to see you."

He places his hand over hers, then lifts it so he can press his lips to it.

"Got anywhere special to be tonight?" he asks. When she shakes her head no, he nods seriously. "Let's go. I'll buy you dinner... and maybe, breakfast?"

"We've got a lot to talk about before breakfast, mister," Midge warns as they head down the sidewalk. "But," she allows, "what kind of girl do you think I am? I don't buy breakfast, I make breakfast. In my own kitchen," she stresses, and oh boy is she in trouble when she sneaks a sidelong glance just in time to see him lose the battle to keep a broad, boyish grin from breaking across his face.

#midgelenny #midge maisel #lenny bruce #the marvelous mrs. maisel #tmmm #midgelenny fic #tmmmfic #tv: the marvelous mrs maisel #ship: you're still staring #ch: midge maisel #ch: lenny bruce #mine

30 notes · View notes

zipperzoo · 2 years

Text

FIGHT TO MAKE IT UP

The Batman (2022) bruce wayne x f!reader

Word count: - 6.6k

Masterlist / AO3 / Playlist

Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Crime Family, Thriller, Nior, Heist, Action, Comedy, Crime.

Warning: Description of illegal substances as well as taking them.

EDIT: Minor fixes and edits have been made: Grammar, spelling and small tweaks easing the flow of the story.

Chapter three:

I start and end the day with a chorus, my red chest all puffed ready for a fight for those before us. What am I?

“Hey uh- Sausages, what's the coincidence of Penguin being here at the very circus we crashed through?”

“Guess we just got very lucky. Apparently he is here for business.”

On the outskirts of Gotham. A lone car sat a fair distance from the vibrant life of the circus. Three people emerged from the said car. The Absence of an umbrella resulted in their rather wet dog appearances as they strolled towards the circus acting dumb founded by their own mess. Bruce was hunched over to match the height of Sausages who was towering behind him, pushing him forward.

“Yeah but of all things. We crash into a circus on the outskirts of Gotham and then Penguin just happens to be here?” Bruce stumbled from Sausage's shove and only missed bumping into Y/N by a hair. Letting out a sigh of relief, revealing his subtle ease of anxiety.

Bruce’s hands were still tied up while his feet were free, allowing him the ease of walking. He was sandwiched between Sausages and Y/N, too many people were around, making an escape impossible in the present time. Bruce had to keep an eye out for a window of opportunity and avoid any attention. The last thing he would have wanted was to draw attention.

“Princess, can’t we just take this luck since we are in a deep sea of fucked.” Sausages grabbed Bruce by the shoulder pulling him back to stand up straight. Bruce: Perfectly still and emotionless, face betraying nothing.

“It's your fault, if you made a more solid plan and didn’t abduct Mr Wayne.” She declared.

The entire floor leading to the circus was covered in papers. A little run way of sorts. Halting, she bent over and picked up a soggy and fragile Flying Grayson poster, inspecting it. The words in blue at the very bottom ‘A Death Defying Act’ read in bold. She struggled to make out a lot of the smaller print words. The letters jumbled and danced on the page, struggling to focus on a singular line let alone a word- but the name of Oswald Cobblepot stuck out. She got some sort of answer to why the Penguin was at the circus then but it still felt like she was missing the larger picture.

“Wouldn’t have cocked up if you weren't snooping around Brucie’s home princess.”

“Don’t call me that. Besides I wouldn't have been snooping if the shitty batman walkie talkie’s batteries didn't die.” She lied. Squinting her eyes, glimpsing ahead slightly, she could tell from a distance that tents, caravans and cars were plastered with ‘Flying Grayson's’ posters. Whoever paid for their advertisement leaflets surely was over compensating for this show. Y/N scoffed, the people on the poster looked ridiculous in their green and yellow tight outfits and on top that, they looked like a family of performers.

Bruce’s face cringed wait a minute- Batman themed walkie talkies? The more information that surfaced about these two the more Bruce was convinced they worked for Oz. Only he would hire people as ridiculous as these. The two back at the Iceberg lounge came to mind. Sausages and Y/N seriously couldn't be real- how they managed to get Bruce, rob him and get here? Pure and dumb stupid luck that was soon to run out. Only the penguin would hire complete idiots who were stupidly lucky.

Also what company was commercializing Bruce's alter ego? Making toys- simplifying his character, stripping away the whole purpose of Batman for consumption. What a shit show. Something Bruce was going to have to look into with Alfred. Over commercializing Batman will have a huge effect on how people view him for sure.

“Funny. Mine was fine. Also I told you to wait in the car for Bella Reál to show up!”

Chewing her lip, Y/N replied, sounding irritated. “I used up my battery trying to get through to you but you gave me the cold shoulder.”

Huffing a subtle laugh, she continued to survey the poster. The boy at the back of the poster looked way too thrilled to be exploited by his parents. A stupid little cartoon grin plastered on his face as his guardians just threw him into the air.

Turning his head to the side to let out a cheeky guffaw. Sausages ruffling Bruce’s hair then gave a snide comment. “Because- I was busy flirting, princess.”

Y/N screwed up the poster in her hands and threw it over her shoulder, bonking Bruce on the forehead when her target was intended to be Sausages. Bruce was not getting a break. He let out a pained sigh. Sausages pulled a face, trying not to laugh at Bruce’s expense.

—

Sausages Buzzed in on the radio. "Getting cold feet princess?”

Tapping the radio against the wheel, taking one last look around before responding. Two security guards stood at the door while two cars were stationed out front. She was parked near them but not too close. Just far enough to keep an eye on them. “Can’t you pick a better nickname than fucking princess?”

“It's funny to see you tense up and get annoyed!”

“Har har.” She sunk into her seat, looking through her rear-view mirror. A car just sitting by the main doors, she squinted her eyes, swearing she saw it before. Until it clicked, she saw it on the tv when the old mayor's funeral was televised. It was Bruce Wayne’s car. She swallowed then pressed the button on the side of the yellow batman walkie talkie “Sausages. I’m getting anxious.”

“Alright alright.” He responded instantly.

Sausages was at the front desk giving the man at the desk a celebrity smile. Attempting to flirt his way through. “Hey.” he raised his brows. The man at the desk on his phone gave a confusing glance at Sausages.

The entire first floor was sickly clean. The Smell of fresh bleach and everything had a reflection. The table, the walls, even the floor. One wrong move and slip and you’d crash and crack open your head. It was all so corporate. They’d probably even sue you for wrecking up their floor.

“Puis-je vous aider Monsieur?” Sausages blinked, twice. The man at the desk was speaking, he thinks -French?

“Oui?” he sounded unsure.

“Si vous êtes ici pour un événement caritatif, j'aurai besoin de voir une pièce d'identité. Si vous êtes ici pour M. Wayne, je dois vous dire qu'il est absent du bureau pour un événement qui se déroule dans le hall principal.” He said the entire thing with no breaks and with ease. Sausages just stared- frozen.

“I’m waiting.” Y/N buzzed through breaking him out of the ice the man’s French put him in. The man behind the desk’s eyes darted to the batman walkie talkie. Sausages' let out an awkward laugh.

“Psh- it's uh… It's my niece. Kids these days love the big shadowy guy” He turned around from the desk and responded to Y/N. “Just give me five minutes!”

“Just fucking debrief me!”

“I can’t princess” He looked at the guy behind the desk, and flashed him a wink. The man in return turned bright red and spun around on his chair- pretending to be busy. Just long enough for Sausages to reply to Y/N “I'm a little busy right now, give me just long enough to get somewhere to prep.”

“Could have just fucking told me when-” he turned his walkie talkie off. Cutting her off, while she was very likely yelling to herself in the car.

Turning his entire body back to the desk, leaning across it and steadily reaching over and grabbing a chocolate treat off the man's desk. “Sorry about that.” Unfolding the wrapper to then plop the chocolate in his mouth all while holding eye contact with the receptionist.

“Would English be better sir?”

“Y-yes…”

“How may I help you sir?”

Sausages wet his lips. “Oh you can help me alright.”

Outside the tower security was tightening up. Y/N watched as several officers walked through but no Bruce Wayne? She saw paparazzi images of him once. He was captured leaving the tower to attend a funeral, another time allegedly meeting some women. Suddenly a thought ran through her mind. What if she gets a snap of him and sells that image. Get a good buck or two.

It was a silly idea that she easily shook off. But the longer she waited the more the rich boy had been on her mind. Why hasn't he come out yet? The auction started hours ago?

—

Approaching the tents, Sausages grunted. “Apparently his thugs will be meeting us somewhere around the big tent.”

“You mean beevus and butthead?”

To walk at a steady pace, Sausages made sure Bruce stayed within distance. They were all being gawked at by the tourists and entertainers of the circus. Spinning lights twinkled in the distance as loud crashing gleeful cheers and chatter washed over the entire field. It allowed excitement to brew, something very alienating to Gotham and its image with its out of world appeal. The rain didn't bother anyone but it sure did take a toll on the tents, the streetlights and support beams as they all looked worn with acid rain. If it wasn't for the flashing lights and the large crowds one would think this was a forgotten place. Lost to time.

Patting poor Bruce on the shoulders causing him to flinch, Sausages replied. “Exactly those two bozo’s!” Bruce recoiled from Sausage's touch, he gave Bruce a big old pouty lip. “You haven't met them, have you Brucie? Hey princess! Do you think those two idiots share a brain cell? Do you think they’ll even comprehend that we have good old Brucie here!”

“Who knows, a lot of people are scared of twins because of that sort of conspiracy bullshit.”

The entire layout of the circus was like fairy ring mushrooms, red and white striped tents built up in one giant circle. With an outline of tents the centre was full of carts of food and merchandise and carnival games. But of course- with a huge fucking slide with tire marks slashed through it, kicked mud up everywhere. There were one or two tents completely destroyed. The trio wandered through the slice surrounded by the aftermath of their destruction, acting like they themselves didn't create it but Bruce avoided stepping on the tire marks.

Reaching the belly of the circus, folks crowded around one another. At the beer stands or the food stalls before entering the tents. The largest one that held the most gravitational pull of the crowd had the large ‘Flying Grayson's’ poster outside it by the entrance. Guess that's where those funky bunch are performing.

While nose diving through the crowd just as it grew thinner, some stranger, dressed up with green hair and white face paint patted Y/N’s shoulder. She snapped around, giving her full attention. He held up a small transparent box full of little bags. Ah, it was his special box and he was offering something for her. She cringed and shook her head. Even Bruce was offered something, he just stared at the man then back at Y/N not letting a single line give away a thought behind those eyes- eyes constantly shrouded in darkness and secrets.

Sausages on the other hand, threw his hand up in the air as if to say me me me! The clown smile grew revealing several missing teeth and a few rotten ones covered in his red lipstick. Lovely.

Opening his box Bruce inspected it. Of course it’s the full cocktail of stuff even fucking needles. Ket, Cocaine, Shrooms, even acid tabs? Looked like drops also. Bruce looked over to Y/N who was refusing to look at the situation. Arms crossed and tapped her foot onto the grass as Sausage's eyes were hungry. He looked eagerly at the shrooms, whipping his head up at the clown for permission. The clown shoved the box into his face. Insinuating a yes.

Sausages took a handful of shrooms- even the clown broke character and looked concerned. He shoved the entire fist full down his throat. That will bite his ass later.

While waiting for the transaction to take place, Y/N looked around at the crowd. For a second she swears she saw the dead guy with the suitcase smiling at her. She had to double take. He wasn't there. His image was haunting her- him and that huge hole in his head.

She didn't know what was worse. The fact she was seeing his face and gaping wound in the crowd on strangers faces, or that he is sitting in the back seat of her car. A shiver ran up her spine. Averting her gaze to the floor, looking at her feet to then look back at Sausages and Bruce.

The clown shook the box and then walked off giggling, even offering more people some of his treasures. Even shook it in a child's face.

Sausages patted his stomach and turned to Y/N. “Should have had something from that guy- his pick’n’mix was literally a fucking pick’n’mix!” pouting his lips at Bruce, Sausages continued. “Maybe you should have had some Brucie- would have gotten that stick out of your ass.”

“Leave him alone, Sausages.” Y/N uttered, shaking her head and moving on. They drew closer to the meeting point. The crowd was finally getting smaller and Y/N felt relief.

“Hm- You're a bit protective with our pal here.” Sausages shook Bruce a little. Bruce was being very docile. “Should I be worried you two will run off when the shrooms kick in?” he teased.

“Buddy, what do you think is gonna happen? Me and Mr Wayne run off with each other into the sunset holding hands? Maybe even our dead buddy waking up from his death nap and stealing our car while we are on the topic of make believe!” While speaking aloud, she smiled and nodded at those who passed them who pulled faces at her words. Not caring if they heard her or not. One woman covered the ears of her child and she scooted away.

“I mean who knows, it's been one of those kinds of nights you know?”

“It's unlikely.” Bruce stated.

Smacking his hands either side of Bruce’s shoulders “He speaks! Thought you swallowed your tongue at some point in the joy ride.” he joked. Bruce tensed up.

“Give it a rest.” She snapped, looking left and right before shuffling between two tents. Getting out of the crowd to a more secluded area of the chaos. Sausages and Bruce followed behind.

“What wriggled its way up your ass and died.” Sausages muttered. It caught Bruce’s attention and he blinked to process it briefly.

Y/N hung back on a step for a second, also processing what he said. “What?- Do… Do you mean who took a shit in my breakfast this morning?”

“Do I?”

“Sausages. Shut up.”

Once on the outskirts, the crowd drew thinner and thinner until eventually on the outskirts of the tents they awaited. Alone. Only meters away from the meeting point.

Drawing closer to the back of the large tent that illuminated in a warm glow surrounded by darkness and endless emptiness of the field to have a wall of cold empty tents on the other side of them. Bruce scanned around. Just as Sausages and Y/N fell silent the quiet was loud and perfect. With no one in sight and submerged in the shadows, Bruce seized his opportunity.

Bumping sausages back to then jump, bringing his tied up hands in front of him. Sausages stumbling- reached to grab Bruce by the arm to then be welcomed by a powerful strike from Bruce. He elbowed him in the stomach winding him.

Y/N spun around, but was too slow as Bruce dipped down and knocked her off her feet making her fly backwards into the mud. It was all too fast for her to process.

Standing up straight Bruce snapped his binds, by making his hands into fists and bringing them down sharply together, pulling his elbows apart and pressing his wrists hard into his abdomen. In one fierce force he was free.

Chest rising and falling, gearing into a fighting stance. It’s like Bruce shape-shifted before their eyes. From a pathetic wet cat kind of boy to a man who has purpose in his movements. Someone to fear.

Sausages reached round to try and bring him into a headlock, but Sausages was punched in the face. Bruce was quick and held his composer while Sausages took hazardous steps back holding his nose, which was now gushing blood.

“FUCK!” screeched Sausages “You cunt!” he began to sob.

Y/N scrambled to her feet all caked in mud but Bruce clasped her by the neck and then pinned her against the side of a van, leaning in close. Struggling against his grip, she slammed her fist to his forearm in a desperate plea for him to let her go. Eyes darted between Bruce and Sausages who was too busy nursing his nose. All her focus snapped to Bruce as his hand burned into her neck.

Goggled-eyed and tongue- tied, Y/N gave in and stared directly into Bruce’s eyes, falling limp.

Huh, she never noticed how blue they were. Blue with a ring of earth green around the pupil. Little specks of dark blue sprayed across the palette. It was like the moment after dusk where night had just begun but it was still light enough to see the sky and its handsome bright stars. His long lashes drew inwards urging the attention to his irises. Time had felt painfully slow as she was eaten up by his gaze.

The slight wobble of his stern gaze dragged her out of the black hole she found herself falling into. It was becoming alarmingly clear that the only way out of this predicament was to fight.

Lifting her hand up to break out of his hold. He spoke, disrupting her “Y/N, don’t bother.” He hushed her. The way he spoke her name caused her skin to vibrate with a mix of confusing emotions.

He had her pinned up, and was trying to silence her. She saw red. They had gotten along just fine earlier then suddenly this? She scrunched her face up, separating her knees apart then swung her arm, smacking the inside of his wrist that held her by the throat. Swinging her body around by shifting her weight into her push. Positioning her in a perfect spot to elbow him in the face or to wrap his head into a guillotine choke hold.

Bruce Grabbed her wrist before she managed to go any further with her self defense stance. He yanked her down, resulting in her splashing onto her knees in the mud.

The man had some fucking strength on him- brute strength. He was much stronger than the old man back at the tower.

Eyeballing her, observing her as she kneeled there in the mud, his hand still holding her wrist up in the air. His touch burnt, it fucking burnt through her skin and it throbbed in her mind. His hands were rough, coarse from scratches and cuts but he had a soft touch.

Running up behind him, with blood smeared from his nose to across his cheek. Sausages yelled “MOTHER FUCKER!” holding a bat he somehow grabbed a hold of. Bruce cut his attention from Y/N to then see Sausages. With little to no ease grabbed the top of the bat and let out a deep sigh varnished in annoyance.

Sausage’s face fell flat. He hoped he could beat Bruce to a pulp but instead opened up his mouth to let blood trickle down and coat his teeth, smiling a pathetic smile. Raising both of his arms up in a piteous surrender.

“What is the Penguin up to?” Bruce spat, pulling the bat out of Sausage's grip. Sausages let go glancing over to Y/N who kneeled on the floor, caked in mud just staring up at Bruce. Bewildered.

Bruce had caught Y/N off guard in the car and since discovering he was far from what she expected, that he may have been nice and just some weirdo that she made out to be the personification of capital. The object that she projected all her financial struggles on just because he was doing better off than her. This was different. Bruce had just revealed to her that he is sneaky, calculating and really good at catching people by surprise.

He won't catch her off guard ever again.

Grabbing his nose, Sausages drew back. “It's none of your business pretty boy.”

“We made a deal.” Y/N spoke up, dropping her head down. Arm going limp in Bruce’s hold. “Oz took advantage of the floods- people needed money, shelter and support. He exploited that. We needed money.”

Tossing the bat to the side, Bruce pushed further. "Is that what he did to you? Exploit you?”

Snatching her arm out of Bruce’s grasp, offended at his tone but his grip only tightened. “Listen your high-ass, I was alone in Gotham, jobless and terrified to take on night shifts so- I turned to Oz. Not like I have some dead parent’s money to fall back on.”

“The amount of us that lose jobs because a furry who runs around at night taking out the only people giving us jobs is fucking crazy.” Sausages tipped his head back, blood trickling down his chin and down his neck. A red trail that only grew darker. His breath was sharp and croaky.

Bruce gave Sausages narrow eyes while he faced Y/N. She seemed to be most willing to talk. His voice became softer as his tone was directed towards her. “What is the Penguin up to?”

“I don't know.” she confessed. “Let go of me.” she tried to rip her hand free of Bruce's grip once more. He let go this time, drawing her hand closer to her chest to rub where he held. His touch felt like it was engraved into her wrist, pulsing. “I just want to leave Gotham.”

“Best to leave Gotham now.” Bruce voiced.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t owe a mob boss a fucking arm and a leg.”

“Wow!” All of their attention suddenly turned and saw a child chewing on a candy apple. “Holy catastrophe.”

Sausages pinching the bridge of his nose turned to face Y/N and Bruce then back to the child. “Did the shrooms kick in yet or are we all seeing a kid right there dressed in green and yellow?”

“Oh god is that-”

Bruce shifted on his feet “A flying Grayson?”

The child raised his brows and continued to dig his teeth into the delectable treat. He looked no more than twelve? He was wearing a gymnastic suit with tights. Oh the poor kid, his parents probably forced him to dress up like that.

“No need to stop on my account.” He delicately walked over and threw the core of his candy apple and the stick into the correct bin. Oh great, a goody two shoes. He then turned and clapped. “There were some rusty parts in that fight but lots of room for improvement!”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to feed those things after midnight?” Sausages said turning to Y/N and Bruce. “Let alone letting it out of its fucking cage.”

“Hey!” cried out the child.

Y/N shifted her eyes to Bruce who was more attentive towards the child. She took in a sharp breath inwards.

“Hey? What are you, a horse?”

“I am a Grayson!”

Paying no mind to the child, her attention was on Bruce. His jaw clenched as it looked like he was nervous? Was the presence of the child making him nervous? Bruce locked eyes with the child, frozen in place. Looked really weird.

Bringing her knee up and launching herself up to push Bruce over, catching him by surprise. He was under her. Pinning his arms above his head. She grinned. “Pardon for not blowing sunshine up your ass.” His brows creased as he glared at her. “But you're entire appeal expired the moment you fucking had me in a choke hold asshole.”

“Likewise.” he commented while a smile that is so slight Y/N was not sure it even happened grew on his face momentarily. His hair now covered in mud, ruining his neat and clean black locks. She pouted in response.

The young Grayson was in two minds about what to do but ran up to Sausages who was just watching his pal pin a billionaire onto the floor- cheering her on. Taking him by surprise, Grayson tackled him- thinking he was helping Bruce out.

The child jumped on top of the trash can and performed a Corkscrew move in the air to kick Sausages in the face to then jump up and wrap his legs around his head to the drums on the top of Sausages crown.

“Get off me you monkey!” Squalled Sausages spinning around attempting to throw the child off him.

“I’m not a monkey! I’m a flying Grayson!” The young child put his hands over Sausage's eyes, trying to gauge his eyes out.

“Flying fucking piece of shit in a minute mate!”

“Why are you swearing at a child?”

“You? A child? You're a gremlin, you little shit!”

Bruce flipped Y/N over. He was now on top. She laid there with her arms pinned up above her while he saddled her to hold her down. Bruce would be lying to himself if he didn't think he was admiring her from this angle.

With the hectic noise of Sausages and the young flying Grayson being background noise, Y/N wanted to break the unnerving tension between her and Bruce. She tried to spit in his face but gravity wasn't her friend. The spit flew up a little and came back down onto her forehead. Bruce tried his best to not laugh but his lips did twitch. She burnt her eyes into his beautiful ones, full of rage and embarrassment.

“Well well well. What's all this then?” The voice was familiar to Y/N. She closed her eyes, Bruce studied her expression to glance over his shoulder, catching the young Grayson no longer attacking Sausages, they both had paused their antics to stare agape at the two silhouettes.

Slowly walking towards the group were two identical twins. One of them was clapping their hands in astonishment.

“You two fucking idiots having a party here? While the boss is waiting for you both?” He scratched his nose and darted his gaze around the mess. “Who the ever loving fuck are these two with you both?”

The other twin pointed at Sausages and the child, “Is that a fucking child on you hot-dog boy.”

“I’d be thrilled if you could help me out you bozos.” Sausages gave a last attempt to shake the kid off.

“Nah. Love seeing you getting humbled. Especially by an infant barely out of diapers.” cackled one of the nameless twins.

“Oh shit is that- Is that Bruce Wayne? Is that homeless looking guy Bruce Wayne?” One of the twins nudged the other.

“Oh my god it is Bruce fucking Wayne!” Bruce was getting real tired of people being surprised to see him.

“Yeah! On top of the pretty princess, no less!”

“Hey! Only I get to call her that!! Yelped Sausages yanking the child’s arm, trying to pull him off. The Grayson who was still on Sausages just started pulling at his hair, like how that rat would in ratatouille.

“You call her pretty princess? What are you her dad?” Yelled the child.

“It is an odd nickname to be honest.” spoke up one of the twins. “She is nothing like a princess, more so a chambermaid.”

“Always thought she was prudish.”

Bruce looked away from them to Y/N whose face was growing redder by the second. She was about to explode. She fucking hated that nickname. The nickname Sausages has been calling her ever since they met and it was easily being caught on by everyone around them.

“Will you all shut up and maybe you two twits will help me and Sausages instead of sitting there and watching with your mouths open catching flies!” She screamed. Bruce gave her a once over look. She didn't like him just staring at her. Hated how quiet he was and how all he did was just stare.

“With that attitude maybe we just won't help you out.”

“We were honestly considering it.”

“Considering it?!” She wriggled in Bruce’s grasp. “What do you mean by considering it?!”

“Means what it means princess, beevus and butthead are just as stupid and as selfish as they look.”

“Say you!” The kid said, ripping out a fist full of Sausage's hair causing him to scream out and call the kid an array of colourful names.

“Shut up Dick.” One of the twins walked over and plucked the child up from the scruff of his collar, like a cat holding its young. “You weren't supposed to leave your tent.” The young Grayson started kicking his legs in the air, wiggling and struggling to get free.

“And you! That's not very nice to call us names!” The other twin pointed at Sausages and Y/N just before pulling Bruce off her by his arm. Brush shrugged him off and stood up on his own. Window of escape had closed. He had better luck following along if he wanted to see what the penguin was up to.

Once getting up onto his feet, the twin tried to roughly grab him but Bruce punched the guy in the face from behind. Did some mighty damage but the big guy just shook it off and punched Bruce in the face in return. While Bruce was stunned for a second, the twin grabbed both of his arms behind him and held him hostage.

“Got a solid punch there pretty boy.” The twin spat out, spitting out some blood. Bruce dipped his head down and remained quiet.

The situation was dealt with. Y/N scrambled up to her feet. “Thanks…”

“Would have been over with a lot sooner if you had just asked nicely” The twin who held the kid in the air said. Y/N mocked a polite smile his way before turning to Bruce. She wanted to sock him in the jaw so badly but one glance through his dark and long lashes to look at her- she felt soft for a moment and her throat became dry. She didn't want to even bother anymore.

Scoffing, turning to face Sausages who has blood running down his face, just to avoid looking at Bruce. Y/N could quite frankly kill for a shower right now. Covered in mud and dirt, she rubbed her forearm on her forehead wiping off her pathetic spit off her.

“Hey, big boy. Did you just call that kid a dick? Low blow.” Sausages muttered lifting his shirt to soak up the blood from his face.

“That's his name.” spoke up the twin holding Bruce.

“What?” Sausage's face was a grimace. Pulling the fabric away from his face for a second, squinting at the twins.

“The kid's name is Dick Grayson, wise guy.” He gently shook Dick Grayson in the air, showing him off.

“Don't talk about me when I'm right here!” Dick was still swinging his legs and swinging punches in the air. “It's rude!”

“Wow, your parents must really hate you kid.” Sausages snickered while Y/N shook her head.

^v^

In an isolated room, illuminated by the warm glow of the Victorian lights in Wayne Tower. Alfred sat holding his hands on his lap. A paramedic was attending to his wound on his knee. They were having small talk and bantering about the mess of the hardwood floor.

The paramedic wore bright green and yellow uniform, a radio strapped to their breast that buzzed in and out about locations and alerts. They kneeled down besides Alfred with their box’s mouth open wide besides them exposing their tools. Alfred couldn't help but look- reminded him of his younger years as a MI5 agent. He would constantly get injured and saw medical attention regularly but as time had its way with him, he saw it less and less.

He of course had his own ‘tool box’ for when Bruce would come back from a night black and blue. Alfred was all Bruce had and that even meant for company, family and support.

A smile flashed across his face as he remembered fondly teaching Bruce how to sew a wound himself.

“Not the first time a mess like that has occurred.” Alfred had an upbeat tone to his voice. Hinting at the messy crime screen.

“What, with blood?” Asked the paramedic, applying petroleum jelly to the open wound, prepping it for stitches.

Alfred flinched from the striking pain. “No no no- Mr Wayne got a little joyful with the spray paint one time.”

“Psh- why on earth would Wayne spray paint his own floor?” Pulling out a curved needle, sterilizing it. “Seems out of character for a guy like him.”

“Mr Wayne likes his arts and crafts I guess.” Alfred eyed the paramedic. Preparing himself for the pain to come. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out as he straightened his posture. “The tabloids don't really do him justice. He is just like any man his age.” Besides the fact that he is severely mentally ill and dresses up as a bat at night, yeah. One could say he is just like any dude his age.

“I surely cannot imagine Bruce Wayne with spray paint let alone making macaroni necklaces.” The paramedic forced a laugh at their cheesy joke.

“Oh we have loads of those actually- somewhere. He had made his mother a few macaroni necklaces when he was young.” The paramedic put the needle through the outside of his wound, starting to stitch it close. Alfred drew in a sharp and shaky breath.

“That's actually- cute.”

“It is, isn't it. He was a sweet kid, Had an eagerness for learning and tinkering.”

“Ah- so that's what he does in this big old tower.” Tying up the wound. Putting down the suture scissors and the dirty tissues in a medical tray to the side. “You're really lucky the person who shot you had only a hand held. If it was a shotgun you’d no longer have a knee. Just a giant hole where one should be-”

“Mr Pennyworth.” Called out Gordon, interrupting them.

Gordon walked into the room, scratching his chin, thinking carefully how to approach the situation. His train of thought was interrupted by Alfred’s polite correction.

“Detective. Please- just Alfred.”

Gordon let out a breathy laugh, making his way over to the two. “So, Alfred- Where is the man of the house?” Looking around the room. Hoping to pick up any more clues missed.

Bruce Wayne had a good staff, the place was immaculate. That or just a really good butler.

“Are you referring to Bruce Wayne? I assume he is at the after party of the Gotham’s Flood Charity Auction.” The paramedic pulled out a large square bandage, peeling back the paper on the sticky side to place it over the stitched wound on Alfred’s knee.

“Actually- a bunch of my men are there right now. Bruce Wayne is nowhere to be seen as well as the donation he handsomely offered to auction off.”

Alfred hesitated. Bruce was either actually missing or was running around Gotham as Batman. It was always hard to keep up with him when he was obsessing over something especially if it involved Batman or a case. It consumed him body and soul, became his waking thought while everything else was left as an afterthought even his health and hygiene. If his parents could see him now- Alfred knew it would break Martha’s heart to see her child tourture himself like this.

“I recall making strict requests to not have that auctioned off but to just showcase Martha Wayne’s and Thomas Wayne’s support in spirit.” The image of the man with the suitcase came into his mind, bashing against the man by the nickname Sausage's head several times. Felt like forever ago.

“A cute sentiment. That's besides the point. Bruce Wayne and the donation from Wayne Enterprises is nowhere to be seen and I was hoping to know if you had any clue on where they both are?”

“I reported earlier to the operator and to your other detective that I saw the suitcase and the guard it was attached to being taken away by the two who were trespassing. They also left a mess.” Indicating his knee. The paramedic laughed. “And I came up to hopefully find Bruce. I just assumed he was sidetracked and is just wandering around a party buzzing from the alcohol.”

“You don’t sound too worried that your boss is possibly missing Mr Pennyworth. Some people would be jumping to place a missing persons report.” Gordon pushed, hoping Alfred would let something slip.

“It hasn't been 24 hours. I’m more concerned with the break in and the robbery of the suitcase containing Wayne’s family heirloom.”

“It is a common belief that you have to wait 24 hours before reporting but it’s not true, you can make a report to the police as soon as you think a person is missing.”

“Detective. The suitcase is a high priority and I assure you. Bruce Wayne will show up.” Alfred was blunt.

“Pennyw- Alfred. We have CCTV footage of Bruce being held at gunpoint at the party, escorted out and then abducted. From the Auction held here- at the Wayne Tower.” Sounded completely made up but not really out of the realm of impossible to Alfred. He clasped his hands together on his lap and then pushed a polite smile. He had nothing to worry about Bruce will be fine… He hoped.

Gordon opened his mouth to continue but decided against it. He really didn't have much to go on apart from evidence found in a storage cupboard near the elevator, the footage that security handed over to the GCPD of Bruce’s abduction, the missing suitcase and the guard and then the car that sped out of the scene. They were just lucky enough to get a number plate but it was a stolen number plate swapped over onto the car. It was pretty darn smart to be honest.

Alfred was the first to speak while the paramedic was packing away their equipment. “Then… I’ll trust you’d find Mr Wayne, bring him and the suitcase home safely.” He couldn't fight anymore for Bruce’s defense. He knew he could hold his own especially if he was with the two he had encountered earlier Bruce would be fine.

Gordon gave a subtle nod before reaching over with something in his hand. “If you have anything else, call me.” Gordon handed out a card, subtle off white colouring with a watermark, in the centre it read: J. Gordon. Alfred laughed to himself, not at all expecting this man to have this kind of business card.

Without another word, Gordon walked out of the room, leaving Alfred staring at the card. Letting out a sigh. Talking to Bruce about this will be like pulling teeth.

Growing anxious with the GCPD looking for Bruce, who was now presumed missing. Wherever Bruce was, Alfred hoped he’d return soon or better yet be okay. The toll of the Riddler did Bruce in so badly it took him weeks to recover and he was still dealing with a lot of it emotionally all alone.

Batman was consuming Bruce even in the aftermath of chaos.

“Hey- They’ll find him.” The paramedic tried to reassure Alfred. Picking up their equipment, giving Alfred a comforting smile they left. Alfred sat there alone staring at the business card.

#The Batman #Robert Pattinson #Battinson #batman x reader #Battinson x reader #fanfiction #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #DC #70's vibes

39 notes · View notes