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amourlyns · 20 days

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❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

𐙚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: in which batman visits crime alley, and the reader indulges the bat with sweet notes and baked goods.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

𐙚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: inspired by this post. thought it was the cutest thing ever and i wanted to write it out, something short n sweet !! dedicated to @armin-ocean-eyes

⟡ ⠀ | 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. Of course, The Bat doesn’t want to jinx his nightly patrol but (…) it’s been nice.

In all honestly, it finally felt like a break. A time to hunker down and take time to focus on his parents. A stroll through Crime Alley would do. Bruce never forgets about his parents, nor does he forget that night. He comes back to remind himself of what happened. How he couldn’t stop it. How he failed to protect them. It’s a constant reminder, a punishment.

Tension never leaves Bruce’s body. He’s always so high strung, constantly prepared for fight or flight. Shoulders are tense, brows are furries and teeth are gritted. This was his very being now.

Late nights, cold and oh, so lonely. The heavy bass of boots sloshing through rain water across the concrete street. Vengeance has filled the role of Gotham’s protector for long enough to know everything about the city he tirelessly protects. He knows this city better than anyone else.

But he still can’t stomach the alleyway.

Today, Bruce doesn’t bring flowers, but he brings himself. And hopefully, that’s enough for them.

From above the street, unbeknownst to the Bat. He has an angel, a watcher if you will. The city has swallowed him whole and spat him right back at out tonight. Senses are diminished, hazy from the beatings of tonight. Usually, he’s more attentive than this.

Funnily enough, you just moved into the city of Gotham three weeks ago. It’s a dreary, dull city. But at least it’s away from home. Right? Sure, the apartment you were currently living in definitely seemed haunted and it literally oversaw the alleyway the Waynes died in. Why did no one tell you they got mugged? (…) But what could you do? It’s shitty but the only thing you could afford in this damned economy.

And dude, it was definitely haunted.

You actually thought you were hallucinating the first time you laid your eyes on it. The fucking Bat, Vengeance. Gotham Cities actuals protector? It was odd and horrifying. You expected to see him raging through the alley in his moody glory. Big, defiant, and spooky!

But he actually seemed defeated? In a way? His strides were slow. Then, he knelt down onto the pavement and stayed there. It’s weird, this habitual routine of the Bat coming by and kneeling happened constantly. Well, to be fair he did patrol your building after that. Scouring the rooftops for any signs of peril within the area.

When he was done, he would come back to your building and linger on the fire escape. Sometimes you could hear his heavy footsteps on the rooftops or the iron steps.

Now, no one ever said you were the brightest in the bunch. You moved to Gotham for goodness sake. Anyways, you decided to actually make contact with the Bat. Which in theory, sounds like a good idea because who wouldn’t want a hero in their pocket? Well, a vigilante. But you digress (…) If coming near the alley brings him down, maybe he needs a lift?

The general idea was, leave a note or a gift for Vengeance and leave him be. So, that’s how it begun.

It was the third time Bruce visited the crime alley. This time, he had the intention to make his trip revolve only around his parents.

But then he saw you.

Granted, you were definitely not expecting to see anyone or someone like the Batman at this time of night. So you scrambled off of your balcony and dropped some sort of post-it note on the way out. There were three things on Bruce’s mind. How many times have you seen him and did you know his habits or who he was? Paranoia gnaws away at his guts and creates a nasty hole in his stomach.

He was a master of overthinking.

The Bat was quick to snatch up the post-it note you dropped, taking the time to read and analyze your penmanship. Was it lined with some sort of poison? Was it a tracking device? He waits for a moment. Grunting at the words etched into the paper.

〞I don't know what you're going through but I know you'll get through it. Xoxo. 〞

Huh.

Alfred would tease him for this.

An admirer? He was stumped.

It’s been about a week since you’ve seen Vengeance, your gifts of food and ever abundant notes never stopped though. You were starting to think he changed his route ever since that night he caught you on the railing.

First off, he was terrifying up close (the man was ten feet away) and second off, how was he able to catch you. Some part of you expected the man to interrogate you or something.

He didn’t, thank goodness. But you kind of missed seeing the cryptic Bat.

On the other hand, Bruce decided to do some research on you. A through background check would never hurt and who knows if you wanted to kill him? It could all be a facade. Each baked good and beverage you left out for the Bat was analyzed and tested. It could’ve been poisoned, laced, or worst, set to detonate. He was taking precautions. But Alfred insisted it was a good gesture.

Whatever it was, you never stopped. Bruce changed his route of course, there was no reason to let his guard down. But, he did appreciate the notes. To an extent. He just couldn’t help but think of the uncertainty.

The latest one he was holding onto was nothing short of thoughtful.

〞I hope you're having a good day :) (Btw, I haven’t seen you around!〞

So for the most part you were attentive. So he could commend you for that.

Despite all of the alarms in his brain telling him to stick to the new route, he returns to the old route for your sake. The very least he could do was thank you for the messages and treats. At least, that’s what Alfred said. For once, he didn’t feel like being stubborn and listened. The first thing he saw was your silhouette against the glass of your sliding door. Then, your emergence.

Bruce is frozen in place. But you’re waving frantically and running down the steps to greet him. Should he turn away? Just leave and never show up again? What if ⸻

❛ OHMYGOSH, OH MY GOSH. YOU’RE REAL! YOU’RE HERE! I WAS STARTING TO THINK I WAS BEING DELUSIONAL AND SEEING THINGS. WHOA, YOU’RE TALLER IN PERSON. AND LIKE SCARY. SORRY, SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN THAT. WOW. ❜

You’re realizing how that sounded; Bruce notices how you cower in fear. Despite his own anxiety driving him up a wall. The least he could do was say thank you, or show his appreciation. It takes him a few moments to say anything. He can hardly hold eye contact, but it eventually comes out.

❛ I (…) I APPRECIATE IT. ❜

Well. You definitely didn’t expect him to sound like that. His response was so soft you couldn’t even tell if he was directing that towards you. It was so quiet he might as well been talking to himself⸻ and before you could even ask him another question, he’s gone by the time you look up.

Introvert much?

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 11 months

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Bruce Wayne Masterlist

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fluff🌺 Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS:

Neon Gift 🌺❤️‍🔥(Robert Pattinson! Batman) the character is really angsty emokid with eyeliner riding a motorbike and soundtrack is Nirvana, so maybe something dark and heavy and of course smutty alone time with Batman? Neon colors appreciated😍😍😍

Boots & Coat ❤️‍🔥 May I request some hot quickie in his Batcave, i believe he would enjoy if his gf surprise him in one of the gloomy days! Maybe some coat and boots with nothing underneath it or idk 👀👀

DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠

Stupid Man 🌺🌩️Bruce uses 'code 4' while encountering the Scarecrow resulting in defining the next moments that would shake up his family and his future

Library Make-Out🌺❤️‍🔥

Bittersweet Tea 🌩️(post break up theme)

Midnight Visits🌺

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne smut #robert pattinson batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #justice leauge x reader #justice leauge imagine #justice league smut #dc imagine #dc x reader #batmom #batfleck x reader #robert pattinson bruce wayne #bruce wayne masterlist #batman masterlist #gotham imagine #gotham knights

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tomhollandisabae · 2 years

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hidden feelings - bale!bruce wayne x reader

masterlist

fandom; dceu

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

warnings; angst, mature language, fluff

words; 2.5k

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

please send me your requests !!❣️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now he had completely broken you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Batman's suit.

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

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

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

Once he saw you, he stopped at his tracks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me” he demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hated himself for that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What had changed?” he asked you confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go of what?”

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

“Did you succeed?”

“Not even close” he slightly smiled.

“Bruce...”

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

“Kiss me” you said while looking at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alfred” Bruce exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“we’ll see about that.”

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

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devilfic · 2 years

Note

Hii <3 Can you make a Bruce x Surgeon reader?. Love your work btw.

❝right place, right time❞

parts: next plot: you took the hippocratic oath. you swore to help those in need. you didn’t sign up for a man crawling through your apartment window bleeding to death, but you’ve unfortunately seen worse. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, meet ugly but it’s kind of cute, vigilantes breaking into medical professionals’ houses but it’s not because they don’t heave health insurance, bruce wayne is a masochist, mentions of blood, bullet wounds, and surgical stitching. words: 4k. edited: 2/28/24.

a/n: I struggled a bit with this idea, but I ended up really liking the outcome! hope you enjoy.

Contrary to what your mother believed, you had started looking for a new apartment. You’d stare at newspaper clippings stuck to your fridge and imagine yourself living in those nicer buildings and say “I’ll call them on my lunch break” but never did.

But it wasn’t your fault, you just got busy. And busier. And you liked this place. Since you’d enrolled in medical school, it hadn’t done you wrong. You might as well have had lamb’s blood over your door the way the angel of death never came knocking.

And technically that was still true. He had to have been there before you slipped in, the stove clock reading 11:15 in neon green just a minute before you noticed his sinister silhouette outlined by your window. It had been a long shift, but you definitely weren’t just seeing things.

A chilly breeze shuffles his cape. He shifts and you realize the window he was blocking had been pried open. It’d stopped opening for you years ago. His body shifts (sways) again, saying nothing.

“What are you doing in my house?” He hears you. There’s no way he can’t hear you, the distance between the front door and the window mere feet in between. He shifts one more time, hulking forward with the ears of his cowl resembling bull horns, and you grab the doorknob in fear that he’s about to charge forward and trample you... but he hits the floor.

Slowly, you open your front door again, hallway light illuminating the body on your living room floor. Completely still. You stand there for perhaps a few beats too long just looking at him. Then, extra slow, you let your door shut and flip on the overhead light. In the time it’d taken for you to collect your thoughts, a small pool of blood had begun to stain the carpet underneath him.

Your shift had been long, and this definitely wasn’t the first time today you’d seen that much blood, but you’d been prepared then.

“Shit, shit, shit,” tossing your things to the side, you all but throw yourself onto the ground next to the Batman’s body. You note with increasing concern that he doesn’t react at all, “do not die on my carpet!”

He doesn’t react to that either.

It takes your eyes a moment to adjust in your flurry of thoughts, relieved to see that his back was still rising and falling with life, but the blood soaking the floor and eating up your security deposit didn’t leave you feeling very confident. Tucking his cape out of the way does nothing to help show you his injury, and you realize that you’d need to move him and remove the layer of armor in your way if you wanted to stop the bleeding.

Even splayed on the floor, it’s clear he’s a mountain of a man. There was no way you could flip him all on your own. “Hey,” you call, “what happened to you?”

There are slits in the cowl where his eyes should be and black paint spread around his eyelashes that do not flutter when you speak. Careful, you take your thumb and peel one eyelid back to reveal a brilliant blue eye staring back at you—or rather, your direction—unresponsive.

There’s a neat protocol for this. You’re a professional with over a decade of training under your belt and over a hundred different emergencies that hadn’t made you flinch or falter. You know what to do and how to do it right, but you really haven’t got the time.

Winding your hand back with just enough force, you bring the palm of it down onto his exposed cheek, startling him awake instantly.

The victory is short-lived when he suddenly arrests your hand in an iron-clad grip, stunning you with the sheer strength he puts behind it. That was a good sign, at least. He wasn’t quite seeing the light at the end of the tunnel yet. You’re quick to get your words out before he can fling you across the room in a rage, “I need you to roll over so I can get your suit off.”

You kinda feel bad for the guy. His eyes are slow to follow your hand’s movement, brain even slower to process what it is you’re asking. He can barely lift his head off the ground to assess his surroundings. You watch the way he struggles to focus on you, frantic as you are, and his nose twitches at the idea, “No.”

“No?”

The labored breathing isn’t a very good sign, “I can’t.”

“I need to get to your wound. I can’t do that with an inch of Kevlar in the way.”

He musters some of the strength he used to take you captive to push himself up and over onto his back. Still, he refuses to move any further, “I got the bullet out. Just stop the bleeding.”

Sure enough, the material around his wound had shattered open from the impact of a bullet, no doubt holding up for as long as it could under a barrage. His entire suit had taken a beating. You cringe at the blood still free-flowing and remove your cardigan, bunching it to press against the wound. “You’re an idiot,” you hiss, forgetting yourself and who you’re talking to, “you probably agitated the wound doing that. You need stitches. You know that, right?”

“Just... stop the bleeding.”

You’d handled legions of mafia goons, clowns, and freaks, but Batman was shaping up to be your most annoying patient. “I can’t if you don’t let me stitch you up. I can’t stitch you up with this armor in the way.” He even has the audacity to doze off a little while you talk, coming back to only when you give his cheek a few more taps, “You’re not dying in my house. If you want to bleed to death, get out. Otherwise, let me help you... please.”

If you were in the operating room, maybe you could’ve cut the thing off him by now, but you’re in your mediocre apartment with tools only a little more helpful than the average first aid kit. What stands between you and the grim reaper is an exposed identity. You were a little alarmed that he was still deliberating on which was worse.

His eyes stare down at you, eyelids drooping by the second. You hope that’s not another bad sign, “I’ll blindfold myself.”

“Tell me how bleeding out is worse again.” At least he had a sense of humor about it.

You laugh because it’s all you can really do with that, “I’m a pretty good surgeon from what I hear.” His eyes flicker to your scrubs as if he had just noticed what you were wearing, “It’s just this upper part, right? You have to take your cowl off to remove it. So I’ll blindfold myself. Then you can put the cowl back on and I can work. I promise.”

Batman watches you with those haunting eyes, rimmed with blackness that makes the blue look like it goes on forever. Then, his hand slips down to the place where his breastplate meets his belt. His fingers make quick work of loosening the latter. That’s all you need to get moving.

You retrieve your first aid kit and meager surgical tools from the bathroom, and there’s a scarf from last night’s shift on the arm of your couch that you quickly tie around your eyes, listening for movement as you kneel by Batman’s side. You hear grunts of pain and the shifting of fabric, a breathless whine and sigh. You feel him shift in front of you, cringing when you realize he’s sitting up now. Reaching your hands out to help him, he grits through his teeth to dissuade you, “It’s fine.”

“You’re gonna tire yourself out.” Your voice is much gentler this time, a reward for his compliance, and you let your hands feel for where his own are hooked under his armor. You think you hear him suck air through his teeth at the touch. “Let me.”

He doesn’t use his words to reply. His hands engulf your own and it’s your turn to gasp now as he moves them into position, hooking your fingers between the Kevlar and the fabric underneath. You feel his body flex with the effort as you heave the top off him, your fingers brushing over wisps of hair as your hands pass over his head. It thuds somewhere off to the side.

The sound of him falling back against the floor is none too comforting, though his voice confirms that you can look again.

The fabric of his under suit is easy to cut open with scissors, and once you’ve got a good vantage point, you begin wiping around the wound to prepare. “There’s no anesthesia here, sorry. You’re gonna have to tough this one out.”

The Batman keeps his gaze on your ceiling with his jaw clenched. With your needle prepared, you steady your hand against the warmth of his skin and begin stitching.

He’s good for a few minutes and you watch his face for any signs that you should stop, but every time he meets your eyes, you force yourself back to work. You’re just in the homestretch when he stutters out a pained breath, grasping at your bloodied cardigan for something to distract himself from the pain. You spread the hand that isn’t stitching him up against his torso and begin brushing your idle pinky back and forth, attempting to comfort him, “You’re doing great. I’m almost done.”

Your touch makes him stiffen and you wait for him to tell you to stop, wait for him to pry your fingers from his skin, but he does nothing of the sort. “You said you’re a surgeon.”

You make another loop, pleased that he’s more alert now, “I’d say you must be pretty lucky for breaking into my place, but you’re also the one that got shot.” His shoulders relax the minute you tie off your thread and snip off the excess. The gauze and tape is the easy part.

His eyes shift from you to the window he’d crawled in through, blood dried on the white wood. You think he’s cold and are about to get up and shut it when he speaks again, a little gentler, “Why here? You could live anywhere.”

“Be careful. You sound like my mother,” you joke, “I just haven’t gotten around to it. 16 hour shifts take precedence.”

To your surprise, his eyes flash with remorse. “I was looking for somewhere to hide. I wasn’t going to stay.”

“But you did.”

“I’m usually more bulletproof.”

That gets a laugh out of you. You think Batman even quirks a smile, however faint. “I’d hope so. I’d like you to stick around a little longer.” Batman’s confusion is obvious this close up. You continue, “Long shifts, you know. Get a lot of casualties. It’s really... gruesome stuff. They don’t sugarcoat it in residency, but when you’re really out there, seeing it every night... anyway, it’s been different since you came along. People sleep a bit easier. Me included.”

You don’t tell him that he’s part of the reason you hadn’t up and moved to a better city yet. It feels implied.

The clock now reads 12:32, a warning of how late the night had gone on, “Well, are you sleeping on the couch or the floor? I prefer the couch but you seem like the masochistic type.”

Batman brushes off your dig a little too easily, “Neither.”

“I’m not letting you leave after all that, if that’s what you’re thinking. You narrowly avoided death.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks to you.”

Oh, oh this man. Was your heartfelt confession not enough? “You won’t be fine if you get up and leave.”

“I can’t stay here.”

“You will if you want to live.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

“I will tie you to a goddamn chair before I let you ruin all my hard work. I’ll keep you here all night.”

He sits up again, more confident now that his wound is handled, and you’re quickly reminded that even unconscious, he’d been too strong to manhandle. With him looming over you with purpose, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

Your eyes discreetly rake over the heavy, sturdy planes of his body. You weren’t much in the way of him. Your last-ditch effort is a little pitiful, “Please. You obviously do this vigilante thing for a reason. You don’t have to stay the whole night. At least rest for a few hours. There are a lot of people who need you here tomorrow... again, me included.”

Your puppy dog eyes are a little rusty, you know. The sincerity works for you. Even when the Batman feigns undecided, you can tell his choice by some of the tension leaving his body.

You just wish he wasn’t so stubborn.

You scramble to hold him when he starts pushing himself to stand, your arm linking around his almost naked waist. The fabric clings closely to the dips and curves of his hip, and you press closer to tuck under his arm. He must be more tired than he lets on because he barely resists you.

You’re thankful that he can shoulder most of his weight on the slow, stiff walk to the couch, and your worry overpowers your smugness when he drops to the cushions the second you get close enough. You’re gentle checking the gauze for any red that might seep through, but the stitches remain intact. “If you eat something, you’ll heal a bit faster.”

“I’m-” He catches himself before he adds on a “fine”, “water would be... good.”

The bottle you retrieve remains unopened until you put it in his hands, “A few hours, okay? At least two.” Batman frowns at you, jaw pulling taut at the thought of staying still for that long. His mulishness would be endearing if he wasn’t playing with life or death. “I’m gonna be in that room at the end of the hall. I’ll keep my door cracked in case you need me.”

“You shouldn’t do that.” Batman warns, a strange edge of concern to his voice, “With strangers in your house.”

You laugh, “What? You mean you?”

His hand takes your wrist but gentler this time, “Three hours. And you’ll run next time someone breaks in.”

You’re kind of stunned. Not because you didn’t think he’d care, but because, in all this commotion, you hadn’t really paused to think about what would have happened if it hadn’t been him at your window. You’d been lucky for this to be the first time anyone had ever broken in, but what if tonight had gone differently? It’s a simple, reasonable request. “Yeah,” His eyelids flutter closed a little at your agreement, “Three hours.”

You’d worked shifts longer than a day and they’d never exhausted you this badly.

You know you should be putting on a better face for the day, especially with who you’d be meeting in less than an hour, but you’d barely slept a wink with your guest only feet away from your bedroom door, no monotonous heart monitor to fall asleep to. What little sleep you did get only came after he’d left—true to his word, he’d stayed for three hours—and then worries of whether he’d made it home safely had consumed you.

That was the thing with masked vigilantes, you supposed. This was your first after all.

“You look rough. Long night?” You recognize the voice as one of the pediatricians, Emily, who had been handpicked alongside you for the day’s special event. She looked far more alive in comparison.

“You’ve no idea.”

Emily sidles up beside you, radiating excitement, “I could barely sleep either. I’ve never met a celebrity before!”

You muster up enough energy to laugh, humorless as it was, “CEOs don’t count as celebrities, Em.”

“Yeah, they do. Elon Musk hosted SNL. Only celebrities do that.”

And thank God that wasn’t who you were meeting today. You weren’t that good of an actor.

It had been between you and one other general surgeon in your department for the day, and though you’d remained adamant that it should be literally anyone else but you representing your department, your boss had nominated you.

That’s why you were standing here on only an hour and a half of sleep, second coffee in hand, waiting by the front doors of Gotham General for the fanfare to start. They’d be here any minute.

For every second you weren’t agonizing over what you’d have to say (”Thank you for your generous donation, we really need it in a city that implodes on itself once every afternoon”) or buzzing from the caffeine, you were checking local news for any sightings of the Batman. It had gone from curious to obsessive in about a few hours, and now you were doing everything in your power not to sneak your phone out and check again.

Just as your fingers begin to itch over the mouth of your pocket, a sleek Rolls Royce pulls up beneath the porte-cochère. It’s obvious who it belongs to. No one who owned a car like that would make Gotham General their first choice for healthcare.

Your boss materializes out of thin air, running outside to greet the greying man who steps out of the passenger seat first. You’re confused, wondering if they’d sent a representative instead, only for that same man to open the backseat door a moment later, and out steps the man of the hour: Bruce Wayne.

You’d never seen him in person before. “Have you ever seen him in person before?” Emily asks, bouncing up and down beside you. “He’s more handsome up close.”

She... wasn’t wrong.

Bruce Wayne looks a lot like his pictures, but there are subtle differences. His height, for one, cannot be overstated. He hovers over the man who’d come with him and your boss easily. Though you’re separated by glass doors, you’re able to make out the sharp point of his nose and squaring of his jaw. He looks every bit like his father.

It’s only when the three of them make their way into the lobby—where you are—that you notice his eyes.

You weren’t like Em. The Wayne tragedy had been just that: a tragedy. Summers weren’t for the arrival of Bruce Wayne back from boarding school, every tabloid and teenager with nothing better to do scrambling to get a picture of the sole heir. You couldn’t even say if his hair was black or brown. You’d never cared past the statue in the courtyard dedicated to his father. So you had no idea just how blue those eyes were. So... familiarly blue. You hadn’t seen eyes that blue for the last eight hours.

It doesn’t help that as soon as Bruce spots you, he stumbles in his walk behind your boss. You swore he looked like he knew you.

“...and this is Dr. Emily Madison, one of our pediatricians here. These two are extraordinary and a big part of why Gotham General is the trusted facility it is today,” your boss is all smiles and glamour, cutting his eyes to you, “why don’t you say a few words to Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth?”

Right. Your script. The one you’d written more like a joke because you couldn’t focus on anything other than- “Thank you so much for your generous donation, Mr. Wayne,” you step forward to shake both hands in order, “the Wayne Foundation will help so many of us in the field working tirelessly to serve Gotham, as I know your father was very passionate about.”

“Yes,” Bruce sounds a little breathless, “he’d be very proud of the work your team has done so far.”

Your mouth dries up a little. You had to be exhausted. Your mind was running away from you at the timbre of his voice. You’d heard it before too.

Emily’s voice is petering off into white noise as she shares her own gratitude, Bruce focusing on her instead, and suddenly you’re looking at every detail, fitting your thumb in the space between his eyelid and brow in your mind and wondering if that had been the same eye you’d peered into last night.

You haven’t slept at all, you remind yourself, thoughts forming faster than your logic could bat them down, you’re not thinking straight. It’s just that... you swear that...

Suddenly the group is moving, your boss at the forefront. His voice trickles back into your ears as you come back down to earth, “Well, shall we take a look at the new wing? It’s still under construction, but we’d love to show you what we have so far.”

You follow far behind as you approach the grand staircase in the middle of the foyer, eyes following the silhouette of Bruce. You’re comparing shadows, legs, shoulders, cheekbones, finding more similarities than differences. If he feels your eyes burning into him, he isn’t acknowledging you.

He’s barely taken five steps up the staircase when you notice the awkward tilt in his walk. The few glimpses you get of his face as the group begins to ascend looks strained, every step looks painful. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out a hand to grasp his elbow and stop him in his tracks, “Are you hurt?”

You’re just as shocked as he is. The instinct to grab him had been faster than your logic.

He’s got this wide-eyed, almost hysterically doe look as he flits his attention from your hand on his sleeve to your eyes. Seconds later, a more weathered hand pries you two apart. “Apologies, but I’ll have to ask you to refrain from touching Mr. Wayne without-”

“No, Alfred, it’s fine.” “Alfred” releases you at the behest of his employer who hasn’t taken his eyes off you, “I should be the one to apologize... I overexerted myself these last few days at work and believed I might be able to tough it out. If anyone were to notice something wrong, it would be a skilled professional such as yourself.”

His response is corporate and clean, and just as quickly as his shock had appeared, his face returns to professional distance once more.

Emily looks sympathetic over the PR statement. Your boss is quick to scramble back down the stairs, only a little hurt when Bruce waves away his arm to help him back down, “Mr. Wayne, you should have said something! We can take the elevators instead. The last thing we’d want to do is make you uncomfortable. Please, this way.”

You find your way to the back of the group again, now thoroughly embarrassed at your behavior, and begin plotting excuses to step away in the middle of the tour. Emergency surgery, maybe? You had friends in the ICU who could ping you for a false alarm. Maybe then you could sneak in a well-needed nap back at your office-

“I should thank you.”

Bruce had materialized beside you at some point on the trek to the elevators, not as keen on hiding the stiffness in his walk after being exposed. Once his words catch up with you, you stumble out a response, “Wh- oh no, that’s not-”

“Alfred often has to remind me to take care of myself, but it’d be unlike me to not give him a hard time.” Bruce offers a smile, genuine enough that you’re kind of pleased he’s not playing up the friendliness for business. You hate that his smile is the only thing that sets him and Batman apart in your exhausted mind.

You return the smile as you all wait for the doors to open, “He seems very protective of you. And he’s right, you should take better care of yourself. There are worse places to get hurt.”

You’re about to look away, about to follow Emily and your boss and Mr. Pennyworth into the elevator, but you’re a second too late and catch a glint in his eye as soon as you finish your sentence. It’s gone before you know it. “Maybe.” Is his only reply. His smile remains genuine.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #mjwrites

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jesuispatrick · 1 year

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more than words can say - Batman x reader

Summary: your a valuable member of the league and someone accuses you of being a traitor.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I have decide to go in a complete different direction and write for batman. I will also be writing for other DC characters too such as night wing. I have no clue if there is still a community for these fanfics so please let me know if you like it :)

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As a member of the Justice League, I felt an immense sense of pride and accomplishment. I had spent years training to perfect my powers and become an integral part of the team. My unique abilities allowed me to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air, giving me a versatility that was unmatched by most.

I had first discovered my powers as a child, and with the help of my parents, who were also gifted with extraordinary abilities, I learned to control them. As I grew older, I honed my skills through rigorous training and countless battles against evildoers who threatened the safety of innocent people.

My reputation as a formidable superhero eventually caught the attention of the Justice League, and they extended an invitation for me to join their ranks. It was a dream come true, and I was determined to prove myself as a valuable member of the team.

I took a seat at the long table in the conference room of the Watchtower, the Justice League's orbital headquarters. The room was spacious and dimly lit, with large windows that offered a stunning view of the Earth below. The table was made of sleek, black marble and was surrounded by high-tech chairs that seemed to conform to the body of whoever sat in them.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense with worry. His usually warm smile was replaced with a grave expression, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the faces of each member of the League with a sense of urgency.

The Watchtower hummed with the sound of the powerful engines that kept it aloft, and the only other noise in the room was the soft beeping of the high-tech equipment that surrounded us. The sense of gravity and importance was palpable in the air as Superman began to speak.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his expression serious. ‘We've discovered a traitor among us," he said, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "Someone on the inside has been leaking information to our enemies. We need to find out who it is before they do more damage."

A feeling of unease crept over me as I listened to Superman lay out the details of the mission. Green Lantern sat across from me, his cold stare adding to the tension in the room. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring into me. I was grateful for the opportunity to contribute to the mission, but the accusation that someone among us was a traitor left me on edge. The sudden tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel Hal’s mistrust directed towards me.

"As the meeting came to an end, Hal wasted no time in confronting me. "You're the one we should be watching," he said, his voice dripping with suspicion. "I don't trust you."

Hal’s words stung, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had always thought we were on the same team, fighting for the greater good. The idea that he saw me as a threat or a traitor was beyond comprehension.

"I can't believe you're accusing me of this," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I've dedicated my life to this cause, just like you."

But Green Lantern remained resolute, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at me. "You've always been a wildcard, with those elemental powers of yours. Who's to say you're not using them for your own gain?"

Before I could even begin to respond, Hal launched himself at me with a powerful construct of energy. My heart pounded as Green Lantern's fists crackled with green energy and he charged towards me. I braced myself, summoning my powers to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air. We clashed, our powers colliding in a spectacular display of energy.

I sent a blast of water towards Lantern, but he deflected it with a shield of energy. He countered with a barrage of green energy beams, which I dodged by shifting the earth beneath my feet. The ground rumbled as I caused a fissure to open up between us, and Lantern jumped back to avoid falling in.

We circled each other, each looking for an opening to strike. I summoned a gust of wind to try and throw him off balance, but he countered with a construct of energy that knocked me off my feet. I tumbled backwards, but quickly regained my footing.

Hal charged at me again, this time with a construct of energy that resembled a giant fist. I summoned a wall of earth to block it, but the force of the impact sent me flying backwards. I landed hard on the ground, feeling the wind knocked out of me.

I struggled to get back up, but Green Lantern was on me in an instant. He grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off the ground, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think you can take me down?" he snarled.

With a surge of willpower, I summoned a fierce blaze of fire around my body, causing Green Lantern to release me in surprise. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to send a barrage of rocks hurtling towards him, however, before the lantern could deliver another blow to me Batman was the first to reach my side, shielding me from Green Lantern's attack.

"Back off, Lantern," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "We're all on the same team here."

Lantern hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between me and Batman. I could see the doubt and confusion in his expression as he weighed his options. The tension in the room was thick and heavy, and everyone watched in anticipation, waiting for the next move.

Suddenly, a burst of green energy erupted from Green Lantern's ring, catching Batman off guard. The Dark Knight was sent flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a loud thud. I winced as I saw him hit the wall and immediately tried to run to his side, but Green Lantern blocked my path. "You're not going anywhere," he snarled, his ring glowing with a dangerous intensity.

But before he could make another move, a bolt of lightning struck him, sending him staggering backwards. The Flash appeared beside me, his hand crackling with electricity. He stood in front of me, ready to protect me from any further attacks.

"You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," he said, his voice laced with determination.

With Hal momentarily stunned, I saw my chance to strike. I called upon the elements once more, sending a blast of fire towards him. The flames engulfed him, forcing him to the ground.

As he struggled to get back up, Wonder Woman lassoed him with her golden lasso, restraining him. He began to struggle against the bonds. "Wait...stop!" he yelled. "I didn't mean to betray the team. It wasn't my choice."

The members exchanged a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?" Superman demanded.

Green Lantern took a deep breath, his eyes focusing on the heroes around him. "I was brainwashed," he explained. "Our enemies, they...they got to me. They made me do it."

The room was silent as everyone processed this information. Batman stepped forward, his expression hard. "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

Hal hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously between the heroes. "I don't know. They wore masks, and their voices were distorted. They...they said they had leverage over me, that they could hurt my family."

Superman placed a hand on Green Lantern's shoulder. "We'll help you, Hal,” he said, "We'll find out who did this to you and put a stop to it."

The rest of the Justice League nodded in agreement, their expressions determined. As they led Hal away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. While the revelation was shocking, it was a relief to know that one of our own hadn't turned against us willingly.

I stood up and winced when I tried to put pressure on my right leg. "Let's get you to the medic bay," Batman said, his voice calm but urgent. "You may have a sprain or a fracture. We need to make sure you're okay."

Batman guided you through the hallways of the Watchtower, his grip firm but gentle. You leaned into him for support, grateful for his strength. As you limped along, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in his presence.

Arriving at the med bay, Batman helped me onto one of the beds and fetched a medical kit. As Batman continued to patch up my injuries in the med bay, he paused for a moment and looked into my eyes. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice serious. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I just didn't know how."

I looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"I care about you," he said, his voice low and intense. "More than I should. You have a way of getting under my skin, and I can't help but want to protect you at all costs."

My heart skipped a beat at his confession, realising the depth of his feelings for me. "Bats," I said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, his eyes fixed on mine. "Just know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Looking into his eyes through his mask, I leaned in and kissed him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled be so I was flushed against his hard suit. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer if that was possible.

Suddenly Bruce stopped and his head whipped up and he noticed a blur of red and yellow out of the corner of his eye. "Flash, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone slightly annoyed.

I turned my head around and saw Flash stumble to a stop, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Whoa, sorry Bats," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything important."

I blushed, feeling embarrassed that we had been caught in a vulnerable moment. Batman turned to me, his expression softening. "It's all right," he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "We can continue this later."

Flash's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ooh, is there something going on between you two?" he teased, winking at me.

Batman shot him a stern look. "That's none of your business, Flash," he said firmly. "Now, do you have a reason for being here or are you just here to make bad jokes?"

Flash sobered up quickly, remembering the reason for his visit. "Right, sorry. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after the fight."

Batman nodded in acknowledgement. "We're both fine," he said, gesturing to me. "Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

Flash grinned. "That's good to hear. Well, I'll leave you two to it. Catch you later, Bats."

After Flash left, Batman turned back to me and gave me a small smile. "Where were we?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spreading through my body at his words. "Right here," I replied, leaning in for another kiss.

As we kissed, I could feel the strength of his love for me in every touch, in every movement. It was as if we were the only two people in the world, completely focused on each other.

Eventually, we pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily. Batman rested his forehead against mine and looked deep into my eyes. "I meant what I said earlier," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. You mean everything to me."

I smiled, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "And you mean everything to me," I replied, reaching up to touch his masked face. "I love you, Bruce."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling underneath the mask. "I love you too," he said, his voice full of emotion. "More than words can say."

We stood there, lost in each other's gaze, feeling as if we were the only two people in the world. For that moment, nothing else mattered but our love for each other.

#batman x reader #dc batman #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #fanfic #batman fluff #batman fanfiction #batman comics #Batman one shot #Bruce Wayne one shot #young justice #justice league #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader

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chiefdirector · 6 months

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Grief | Bruce Wayne | DC

No.30: Coma

Bruce Wayne was familiar with grief. He had grieved his parents at a young age, and he had grieved the life he lost when they died. He grieved the loss of his son, and then grieved the loss of their former relationship when he resurfaced as Red Hood. What he wasn’t familiar with was the uncertainty of hospitals and near-deaths.

Nearly every time Bruce had grieved, he had been certain that he would never get back what he had lost, and he had been correct. Nothing stayed the same. This time however, he was grieving someone still alive.

Watching (Y/N) lay still, almost lifeless, on the hospital bed almost killed him. The wires keeping her alive seeming sprouted from every inch of her. Bruce didn't know that so much machinery went into this process, it all seemed so cold and sterile.

Bruce felt like he was sick from the thought, but he couldn't help but find it oddly fascinating that all of this preventative measures was caused by a small bullet. The metal fragment was small enough from him to roll in his fingers.

Alfred had brought the boys around to visit (Y/N), he said it was important for them to see her like this. They had taken on (Y/N) as a surrogate mother figure of sorts, just as they had done to Bruce. Damian had taken the biggest liking to the woman, their bond was something beyond what anyone had come to expect capable for the boy.

Damian's visit to the hospital was the first time Bruce had seen him cry. He couldn't blame the boy though, if he could manage it Bruce would also cry but he just felt numb.

There was nothing that he could do, he was powerless in this situation. The helplessness he felt as he watched the heart monitor's repetitive beeping, signalling that (Y/N) was still alive. He could only watch and grief for something he may not even lose

Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist

@ailesswhumptober

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #chiefdirector #ailesswhumptober2023

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simpforfandoms · 1 year

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to be loved

please send in requests, it’s like the only way I have actual motivation to write. wrote this in an hour after writing a six page essay. sorry I haven’t been active

summary: you want to be lost in him, but not in this way.

pairing: bruce wayne x reader (no pronouns used (at least I don’t think))

genre: angst no comfort because in real life that doesn’t happen.

warnings: no editing

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

“You’re being so much like your father”

“My father was a good man.”

“Oh please, your father was a corrupt business man!”

The conversation is now a full blown argument. It wasn’t about getting your point across. It wasn’t about trying to state your mind. No it was a competition. Who could respond quicker? Who could hurt the other person more? Who would win? No more educated statements, only rash insults.

“Don’t you dare talk about my father that way!” He yells walking toward you, as to challenge you.

You shake your head at his tactics, “Everyone told me you got the worst qualities from your father. The self absorbness, the playboy facade, and the way you can never see when to give up. That you would never make a good husband” You scoff in disbelief. “And I defended you! Never noticing your red flags because you hid them so well!” You cry out

“Oh you want to present yourself as a victim to make yourself feel better? You and I both know you chose this life” He screams at you.

In every argument you have ever had, never once had he screamed at you. In all the rage and frustration, your beloved and devoted husband had never ever been as mad at you as he was now. His eyes were hardened and no matter how deep you looked into them you could find not a once of love. The very realization of this made you sick to your stomach, and you instantly feel tears well. Whether they were from shock, frustration, or sadness, you didn’t know. In truth, you knew you had no right to be upset at his words. You’re the one who started the argument. But some selfish part of you did want to play the victim. Deep down you knew there was truth to his words, not that you’d ever admit it.

“You wanted it until you didn’t.” He states much calmer than before. You assume this is probably because he noticed your tears or maybe it was because he just wanted to stop the yelling.

You shake your head rapidly, as if to stop the tears, “What choice did I have? I wanted you! Not the Batman. And when you told me that you couldn’t- No that you wouldn’t give up the mask, I understood, I really did. And when things started getting tough I was there for you because I love you. And to love you means to love every part of you including Batman. But now it seems you’re consumed by it, him. The man I fell in love with is no longer there. It’s just a shell of a man that once was. I don’t recognize you anymore. I look at you and all I see him”

You look him in the eyes to see anything, anything at all, but you see nothing but a mask. A mask he was putting on. You sigh. Maybe this is the end of it all. You didn’t want it to be. You love him. Hell, you had given your whole life to him. You didn’t go out and explore the world, unlike Bruce who left you for a 7 year journey. But you never once dated anyone else during that time. Remaining faithful. Because you loved him and couldn’t betray him like that even if you were on a break. When he said he had to leave to do something important, you promised him that you would be there when he came back with open arms. You’d know him since you were children, dated since you were teenagers, married since you were adults. Never once have you dared to look at another man. Bruce was the only man for you. You were sure of it. But sometimes you wondered what life would be like if you hadn’t waited for him all those years ago. You often get postcards from your old friends exploring the world. Each and everyone you read with a pinge of envy. Envious that they got to live their life while you’re here in Gotham, still with your Highschool sweet heart. Maybe that’s why you never went to any of the stupid highschool reunions. You knew they would judge you for being in the same spot and relationship you were in all those years ago. They would ask you what have you done? And you wouldn’t know how to respond. Truth is you’ve done nothing with your life but Bruce. He was your whole life. Your whole goddamn universe. But somewhere alone the line you got tired of it. Tired of it all. You felt stuck. And that’s the worse feeling in the whole world. A third wheel in your own relationship. You can’t just leave him because throughout the years it became a kind of codependency. He couldn’t function without you, and you without him. But you can’t do it anymore. It deteriorating you. Can’t he see your sunken eyes from staying up all night waiting for him? Your callused hands from stitching his wounds? Your biten lips from biting them every-time he goes out in fear he might not return? You love him with all your heart but sometimes love just isn’t enough.

He lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. He loves you. He knows that. He knows you better than anyone, but yet he doesn’t know what you want him to do. Perhaps he should do what he wants to do. But what he wants to do is run out and go punch some unsuspecting criminals to blow off steam. What good would that do if when he gets back you might not be there? However this is Bruce Wayne we’re talking about. The Bruce Wayne that is afraid. Afraid that even if he does try to talk it out you’ll admit something that will be harder to swallow than you just leaving unannounced. He wouldn’t know how’d he handle it if you ever blatantly told him you were leaving and why. He can stand you leaving without closure because then at least he can still have hope. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had to accept the truth. That it’s his fault that you’re leaving. So he did what he does best. Leave to go punch some bad guys.

You scoff through tears in disbelief, he had turned away from you to go on patrol. Typical Bruce. You wanted him to fight. To argue. To reassure you that everything was going to be alright. That he still loved you. That he cared. But he doesn’t. Instead he gets into the Batmobile and drives off. You don’t know why you expected more from him. You had almost yelled after him. But you didn’t. Now no amount of words can fix what’s already broken. It’s time you let go of this broken ship before it takes you down with it.

…

When Bruce gets back he’s not surprised that all of your stuff is gone. He anticipated it. But yet it still hurts. A part of him had hoped that you would be waiting when he got home. Opened armed and ready for his apology, like you had done so many times before. This time was different though. You had pulled your heart and soul out to him and he ignored you. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You finally came to your senses that you deserved better. Bruce let’s out a weak smile at the thought of you finally being happy in all the way he couldn’t make you. Your crinkled eyes as you smiled. Your laugh that you thought was the ugliest thing, but the most beautiful thing to him. You deserved to be like that all the time. You deserve it all, he thinks. He is taken back to the harsh reality of the situation by a soft knock. He can’t help the way his heart leaps at the thought that it might be you. But then he opens the door and sees Alfred. His hope instantly fading.

“Master Bruce, I brought you some sleeping tea. As I imagine that it might be hard for you to sleep.” That’s all Alfred says, and places the the tea tray on the bedside table.

Nothing more nothing less. That’s what everyone loves about Alfred. He knows not to bring up you gone because he knows Bruce isn’t ready to talk about it. But he’ll bring him tea to silently let him know that he’s knows and he’s there. Bruce wonders if he had done the same for you. Well comforted you as you were leaving. Reassured you that you’d be okay. He’s glad that Alfred brought him some tea so he can go to sleep where his dreams with you reside. Bruce can’t help but feel the ache in the top of his stomach at the thought of you. Guilt? Sadness? Anger? Perhaps all three. He’s mad at himself for not fighting for you when he had the chance. Guilt for not giving up the stupid Batman. He knew you would do it for him. Had he said the word you would do anything for him. If he had told you to stay you would’ve. Guilt for keeping you in a this relationship for so long when you deserved so much better. His subconscious knew that he couldn’t keep you trapped in a relationship with him forever. So he let you go. He loves you, and you him. But like they always say if you love something you have to let it go. But letting you go it is better than losing the love completely if he continued to drain you. It would grow to become a even more resentful marriage than it already was. At least now there was still love left, and cherished memories not ruined by hate and anguish.

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #Bruce wayne x reader angst #angst #no comfort #marrige #bruce wayne one shot #Bruce Wayne x reader one shot #Bruce wayne x you #Batman x reader #dc comics #dc comics imagine #Spotify

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ghostfacesvalentine · 3 days

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Comfort - Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader

Pairing: Battinson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, not really, sad reader.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Bruce kind of comforting reader after having a mood drop lol

Notes: I can’t really sleep, I’ve been having the same mood drops I thought I was over, so I just wrote this to cheer me up. If you struggle with the same thing, I hear you, here’s a little battison to hug you.

For years it seemed like it wasn’t going to get better. To say you didn’t know how to navigate through your feelings was an understatement. You weren’t really sure what was happening, or what made you feel the way you did.

Even on the best days, sometimes these mood drops were unpredictable. Suddenly the world starts to slow down and you felt like you’re just there.

It felt like it wasn’t a big deal, it was something you always experienced and you tended to deal with it by isolating yourself until you felt good enough to go back out. The last thing you wanted was to plague anyone with some kind of silly feelings that would go just as they came.

Though you felt crazy to assimilate your relationship this way, it seemed like that’s why you and Bruce got along so well. It wasn’t far fetched to wonder if he felt the same way. As your relationship developed with him, spending the night became religious. You were almost a stranger to your own apartment, finding warmth and safety in his bruised arms.

Tonight, you had the same feeling crawling into you. A bitter sting tainted your veins, spreading quickly throughout your body. It seemed like over the years your body would just succumb to the sentiment. The unease caused you to shoot up from the familiar black sheets.

Bruce was hardly a heavy sleeper, but you didn’t blame him for being a stone after the day of living a double life today. Some days it really did catch up to him, board meetings by day, beating bad guys by night.

You had the luxury of choosing the room you wanted to hide in tonight, usually it was the study. It was warm and comforting, the hug you needed tonight.

The room was dimly lit, scattered papers and book decorated the shelves and the fair sized desk. You crawled into the massive chair that hid behind the computer, bringing your legs up to your chest, layering a blanket over your body.

For one reason or another, this always seemed to be a habit of yours. If you couldn’t run away from your feelings or confront them, your mind tricked you into just going to another room. Almost as if that would solve the issue, but deep down you knew it didn’t, however it seemed like your mind didn’t know any better, did it?

Bitter thoughts galloped through you, the same feeling of defeat in hand with your despair. You loved Bruce, more than anything, but because of this you told yourself you could handle this on your own.

You hated hiding from him, hiding anything from him. All it took was his eyes meeting yours, he could get anything out of you. Looking away from him was always a dead giveaway. Your hands rubbed your arms, crossing themselves in hopes of tricking yourself that you were being hugged by anyone other than yourself. Sometimes, the feeling would just push your chest downward, almost like you were completely giving up.

A thick hand appeared on your knee, your eyes followed it back to Bruce, then looking down in shame. “I can’t sleep.” You half admitted as if he was determined to get a response as to why you disappeared from him.

Again, it was useless to try to hide anything from him, it was his literal job to put clues together. However, there was a silence that felt easy, maybe it was the way he looked at you. Without any fine lines across his brows, instead almost a pout of worry. His hand never gripping you, instead offering itself to you as a sincere gesture. After spending so much time with him, it was only a matter of time to learn a few skills from him, to study him.

You lightly rubbed your bottom lip between your teeth, pursing you lip in hopes of alleviating any lingering discomfort. Your eyes couldn’t find where to look anymore, until you felt Bruces’ arms reach down to cradle your figure.

Still unwilling to look him in the eye, you looked down to your thighs as the blanket draped itself down to the carpet floor. Feeling the softest kiss on the side of your head, you closed your eyes.

“It’s not your fault this happens sweetheart.”

He murmured into your face. His voice still sleepy yet so full of patience and warmth. Did he know? Of course he knew.

Your eyes turned to anywhere but him as he walked you back over to his inviting bed, with a messy comforter as evidence of a safe and warm place to rest. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need to.

His fingertips rubbed against your skin in an assuring manner. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or just go back to bed, your eyebrows knit together in frustration with yourself.

“You mean the world to me Y/N. And it pains me to see you run and hide from me.”

There was a long pause, still being held in front of the bed, you looked down to your hands, feeling the droplets coat your cheeks. Trying not to make a sound, you tucked your lips into yourself, your eyes squeezing shut in the process as the whimpering slowly approached.

“If you need time to yourself, that’s fine, but please don’t run away.” Bruce almost begged as he slowly placed you down on the edge of the bed. Your head dropped down in defeat.

“Baby.”

You flickered your lids before looking up to him, you’ve never seen him with such concern and compassion in his eyes, all across his face. He looked like he would do anything for you right then and there. Nodding, you rubbed the back of your hand across your cheeks quickly.

“I love you, okay? Let that be clear. No matter what you’re feeling or what you’re dealing with.” Bruce’s’ hand cradled the back of your head, he slowly pulled it towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead. He stood there for a moment, closing his eyes in a silly attempt to take the sadness away.

“I love you too.” You whispered just enough for him to hear. His fingertips rubbing against your locks felt like the best way to be comforted. You couldn’t imagine a safer, most loving manner to be told you were loved and cared for.

#battinson one shot #battison x reader #battinson imagine #bruce wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne one shot

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davidlcki · 1 year

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Could you write a smutty fic for Bruce Wayne, where he saves his crush, brings her back to the manor where he insists she never leaves bc it's safer for her there & even convinces her to quit her job, with offers to provide for her!

Provider, protector, needy soft Dom Battinson... please 🖤

stab wounds

unfortunately, i don’t write smut! i thought this was a cute idea, so i wrote it without, i really hope that’s ok <3 for insight this is when bruce is not as experienced with being the batman. lowkey went a little overboard w this but i hope y’all enjoy! bruce is so needy in this lolololol

pairing: pattinson! bruce wayne/ f!reader

warnings: cursing, movie typical violence, lmk if i missed anything

words: 4,389

bruce had seen you on the streets many times before. it started the day he spotted you nearly getting mugged on your walk home from work. you were screaming for someone, anyone to help as the mugger ripped your belongings out of your hands and shoved you to the ground. when bruce stepped in, handing your purse back, it was hard to ignore his feelings. it seemed the instant the two of you touched hands and locked eyes, he was in love. from then on, making sure you were safe almost became a habit. he learned your work schedule quickly and although you never saw him, he was almost always there. upon the rooftops or around the corner, he couldn’t leave a pretty girl like you unattended on your late night walks home through gotham.

the second time the two of you met was a few months later. you were avoiding a catcaller who stumbled out of the bar to follow you around. bruce couldn’t hear what he was saying because he was too far off, but he could tell you were annoyed. there was a clear look of disgust as you shoved the man away from you and picked up your walking pace, but the man wasn’t letting up. the second his hand grabbed your wrist, bruce was there to knock him out. your eyes gleamed with fear and wonder as you looked up at him. bruce didn’t scurry away into the dark like last time he encountered you. he felt frozen in place as he stared down at you. when you realized he still hadn’t ran off, you spoke.

“so we meet again?” a small awkward smile graces your lips as you glance down at the unconscious man and back to him.

“i guess so” bruce watches as you eyes grow impossibly larger at the sound of his voice. never in a million years did you think you’d be standing in front of the batman, for a second time. let alone conversing with him.

“thank you, sir, for saving me. again. i feel a lot safer with you around” your voice was small as you spoke to him, but you weren’t afraid as most of the people of gotham were. there was something about him, something in his eyes that told you you could trust this man with your life. you thought you saw a glimpse of a smile, but you couldn’t be sure. the batman turned, about to make his way into the shadows, but he stopped, and looked back towards you.

“i would invest in some pepper spray. or a knife.” and with that, he was gone.

you took his advice, and from then on you didn’t go anywhere without either. luckily, you haven’t had to use them, yet. it’s been many months. maybe half a year. as the presence of the batman grew, the crime was steadily going down. you’ve never felt safer in gotham before, you’ve only had to deal with the occasional cat call. for bruce, he was seeing you many times a week as he secretly watched over you, but you still hadn’t seen him since that night. you found yourself almost wanting to come across a criminal, for someone to try to snatch your bag from your hands, because you wanted to see him again. you wanted him to come down to save the day so you could look into his eyes and hear his voice again. you didn’t want to admit that you missed him, even if you’ve only had 2 sparing moments together. you needed to see him again, or you were afraid you’d forget what he sounded like, and the little details on his suit, and the icy blue color his eyes were.

more months pass. it had been over a year now. when you thought of the batman, you hardly thought of the batman you met that night anymore. it had been so long, he was almost merely a tv character to you. he was whatever the news said he was. on some nights, you found yourself longing to meet him again. you’d sit up late, scanning the rooftops and alleyways, but you told yourself he wasn’t who you thought he was. you didn’t know him, or his intentions. he was a vigilante. that’s at least what the news made him out to be. it was getting harder and harder to see him as the man you encountered on those cold nights.

it was a january night, and the wind was blowing fiercely against your red cheeks as you made your walk back to your apartment. you made a mental note to ask your boss again to give you less night shifts. you knew it wouldn’t do any good though, nobody wanted the closing shift. the cold that was biting through you was urging you to take the shortcut back to your home. you looked wearily down the dark alleyway as you considered your options. it was really cold… and the city is safe now, right? you make your way into the ally.

halfway through your trudge had you regretting your decision. you felt like you were being watched. closer than you usually did. what you didn’t know, is that you were. bruce had spent a ridiculous amount of time mulling over if he should speak to you again. he tried to forget you, he really did. he told himself you were only a random civilian he had encountered twice, just like everyone else. but you weren’t like everyone else. he couldn’t get you out of his head no matter how hard he tried. tonight, on impulse he decided now was the time. quickly he scaled the wall down to the ground on the other side of the alley. his breaths were shaky as he waited for you to get closer. he seemed to misjudge the distance you were at, because when he stepped into view, you nearly ran into him. you didn’t think, all you knew was you screamed, and your pocket knife was in the side of who you thought was a burglar. the string of curses that left the ‘burglars’ mouth, alerted you to who it really was. you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“fuck” you watched as the batman gingerly held his side, your knife was still sticking out of him.

“holy shit! i am so sorry! i… should i call an ambulance? please don’t die!” you held your hands out in horror as you stared wide eyed at him.

“no… no ambulance.” you swore you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“follow me, i- i have stuff to stitch you up at home” you stuttered through your words and quickly led him to your apartment which was only a few minute walk now. bruce followed, his mind bouncing between the pain in his abdomen and the fact that he was being lead to your apartment. he felt like a teenager with a crush. your apartment was small, a one bedroom, but it was adorned with your personality. posters and plants hung from the walls and ceilings, and there were books strewn about and filling the various shelves. bruce took a second to look around as you frantically grabbed things you’d need.

“okay, umm… sit here.” he sat down on the kitchen chair and watched as you thought through how you’d go about this. neither of you had dealt with something like this. whenever bruce was hurt, which was usually minor, he had alfred to stitch him up, but he couldn’t pass up this opportunity with you.

“i’m sorry about your suit” you say in advance, before grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting through it. bruce made a mental note to use much stronger fabric for his next suit. once his torso was exposed, you grabbed hold of the knife. you splay your other hand out on his stomach as if to brace for the pull, and bruce had to force himself to focus on the pain instead of your touch.

“okay…. one…… two…..” you pull the knife out in a swift movement. bruce stifles a whimper, blood was now gushing from the wound.

“at least you know it works” bruce attempts a joke and points at your pocket knife. his voice was strained and you were to focused to let out more than a snort. you press down on the wound with a cloth and wait for the bleeding to slow.

“i hope i’m doing this right… i mean you, you’ve been stabbed before i’m sure right? you know what to do?” you look at him desperately for advice, the guilt was prominent on your features. this is not how you wanted to meet. the thing was, bruce had only been stabbed once, in the arm. he had gotten used to bruises and cuts and fractured bones, but never a stab wound like this.

“no…. this is a first for me” another smile crosses his features as he attempts to lighten the mood. you couldn’t help but smile back. how often to you see the batman smile?

“glad i could do the honors”

once the bleeding was slowed, you cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol, earning a hiss of pain from the man. after everything was sterilized, you began to stitch him up to the best of your ability.

“is this… good?” you question yourself wearily as you observe the stitching you had learned 5 minutes ago on a youtube video.

“it’s great. thank you. and sorry for scaring you.”

“no, i’m sorry for stabbing you. what were you doing there anyways?” you think back to him stepping out in front of you so suddenly.

“just a coincidence” he responds quickly and looks down at his hands.

“seems we have a habit of running into each other, huh?” you smile, and he smiles back before standing up and heading for the door.

“where are you going? you don’t have to go so soon”

“i have to get back. i’m sorry” bruce already had your door halfway open. in reality, he couldn’t bear being around you like this. he realized how deeply he was beginning to fall in love with you by every second he spent with you. he was afraid. he’s never experienced something like this.

“when will i see you again?”

the batman didn’t respond as he closed the door behind him and disappeared into the night.

you thought that was the last you’d see of him. why was he standing at the end of the alleyway? was he there to see you? who was he? questions ran through your head like clockwork, but one thought stayed consistent.

you blew it.

he was obviously not happy about you stabbing him, and that’s why he left in such a hurry. that’s why you haven’t seen him again. six months later, you decided you needed to get out of gotham. stories of the batman filled your head every day, weather on tv or in the papers or from your work buddies, you couldn’t escape him.

on your final night in your apartment before you were to move back to your home town, there was a knock on your window. you nearly jumped out of your skin as you checked the time. 3AM. cautiously, you turned, although you had a feeling you knew who it was. you locked eyes with him as he stood outside your window on the fire escape, rain pattered and trickled down his suit that was seriously updated since last time you’d seen him. your pocket knife would break on it before his suit did. you slid out of bed and opened the window almost eagerly. you were filled with excitement, and frustration.

“what are you doing here? i thought you didn’t want to see me anymore. since i stabbed you… and all….” you stepped aside so he could hop into your apartment. rainwater dripped off his suit and began to create a puddle on the floor. the batman didn’t seem to hear you as he looked around your once decorated apartment, that was now strewn about with boxes. you seemed to read his thoughts as his brows furrowed with confusion.

“i’m moving out of the city. it’s… it’s too much for me.” his head snapped towards you as you said these words, and you saw a type of desperation in his icy eyes that you’d not seen before. you were taken back. finally, he spoke.

“move in with me.”

“what?”

“you can move in with me.”

“i-i couldn’t…”

“you’d be safe. you wouldn’t have to work 6 days a week anymore. you wouldn’t have to worry.” you wondered how he knew how many days you worked.

“i don’t even know who you are, or where you live. i don’t know, i’d only be in the way. i have plans to move back to my home town.”

“you do. you know who i am.”

your brows furrowed, and with that, the batman lifted his helmet. it felt like you were cemented in place. you could only stare at his face and wonder, how hadn’t i noticed this before?

for a while, no one spoke. the two of you stood, observing each other, taking in your features. bruce felt naked, standing before you like this. soaking wet, black eyeshadow surrounding his eyes. it felt like the two of you were meeting for the first time. really seeing each other for who you really were. you were in your night clothes, shorts that were too short for you to wear in public and a t-shirt that was too big. the cold wind that now blew from your open window ran a shiver down your spine.

“please” bruce’s voice was smaller than he expected. desperate. “move in with me” this felt like a life or death moment for him. he felt like if it wasn’t you, it wouldn’t be anybody. he of course wouldn’t force you to move in with him. he would let you walk away, never to meet again. he would let you punch him in the face. he would let you stab him over and over again. if that’s what you wanted. he realized that he’d die for you. despite his doubt, he felt it. he felt the electricity between you both, and he knew you did too.

something changed when he took his helmet off before you. you realized the connection, you realized he wanted this just as bad as you did. you realized it wasn’t just you. wordlessly, you nodded.

wayne manor was incredibly large. larger than tv made it out to be. alfred greeted you with a friendly smile, and upon touring the place around, you realized theywere the only two actually living in it.

“any room you want, it’s yours”

you felt like a little kid as you went inside the bedrooms that were larger than your entire apartment. eventually, you decided on a room at the other end of the ridiculously long hall from bruce’s. he leaned against the door frame and watched as you ran a hand along the beautiful furniture and took in the view from your window.

“hey, i haven’t gotten your name” bruce suddenly realized. his cheeks were painted red at the sound of your laugh. you still couldn’t process what was going on. you found it funny that you only just now were getting the chance to tell him your name.

“oh right, that might be useful. i’m Y/N”

“Y/N” the way your name rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine. “it’s beautiful”

you look down to hide your smile as you utter a thank you, busying yourself with opening your suitcase and beginning to unpack.

you settled into wayne manor much easier than expected. it took a little while, but you and bruce got on well. one night while bruce was out and you were helping alfred tidy the kitchen, he gave you his insight.

“never in my entire life have i seen bruce be so sweet on someone. never. you’re special to him, Y/N.”

more months flew by in what seemed like the blink of an eye. bruce was completely enamored with you. on one night in particular, bruce came home injured. he threw you a pained smile as he stumbled through the door holding his side.

“jesus!” you stand up and place your hands on his shoulders, giving him a once over. “what happened?”

“just- just a gang of kids. im okay, alfred’s got it” he waves off your concern and pulls his helmet off hastily.

“looks like more than just a gang of kids to me. let me get it, let alfred rest.” you look him in the eyes, and he couldn’t say no. he tried to avoid you when he was injured like this, he never wanted you to worry.

once in the bathroom, he watched with dull amusement as you rushed around the bathroom. you’d think he’d have his own little hospital in here with the amount he gets hurt. bruce was pulling his armor off carefully.

“just like old times, huh?” you smile wearily as you inspect his wounds. he had another stab wound just above the scar where you had stabbed him that night. you lift up his discarded armor and inspect the ripped hole in it.

“hm. gaps in the armor”

“what?” he looks at you with confusion.

“no wonder this wound is so bad. gaps in the armor!” you stick your finger through the hole in his suit and bruce rolls his eyes with feigned annoyance.

“you gonna let me bleed out or what?” he takes his bloody gloved hand and wipes it on your shirt, leaving a bloody handprint.

“oh! come on! i like this shirt!” bruce was giving you a playful smile, and you had to suppress yours as you kneel down to stitch him up.

“i’ll buy you a new one”

once you stitched the wound on his side, you took a rag and carefully wiped the makeup and blood from his face. he closed his eyes and let you do so. you found him leaning into your touch as you pushed his hair back and tilted his head towards you. once his face was clean and you assessed he didn’t have any head damage, you broke the comfortable silence.

“could you hop in the shower? i cant tell what blood is yours and what isn’t. and you smell like sweat.” you poke at his shoulder, and bruce reluctantly agrees.

“alfred dosent make me shower” he pouts, turning the faucet. water spurts from it and quickly fills the room with steam.

“well, i’m not alfred” you cross your arms sternly and begin to head towards the door. “i’ll be outside when you’re done to double check those wounds.”

“wait” bruce’s voice stops you in your tracks “could you stay? it’s nice. having someone to talk to, i mean.” his voice was quiet and it reminded you of the night he asked you to live with him.

you sat on the toilet seat and make casual conversation as he washed the sweat and grime off of his body.

when bruce was turned away from you, you would observe his back. the way scars full of bad memories adorned it and the way his muscles flexed as he moved. you had to force yourself to train your gaze on the ground until he was done and wrapped in a towel. you checked him for any more injuries, and upon finding nothing more than bruises decided your work here was done.

“okay, you seem alright. just that stab wound and a few bruises. i think you should really fix those gaps in your armor.” you elbow him teasingly and he flicks your forhead in response.

once he was dressed, he met you in the kitchen. “hey,” his voice alerted you of his presence, you finish your glass of juice and turn fully towards him “wanna help design my suits?” by the look on your face, bruce could tell you were shocked.

“i need someone else’s input. what about the gaps in the armor, you know?”

the two of you didn’t sleep that night. instead, you spent your time drawing out suit ideas on a large piece of paper. you realized very quickly how much you enjoyed doing so, and bruce realized how good you were at it.

“see, this way you still have full mobility, but these areas are completely armored.” you point at the paper with your pencil and bruce nods along in awe. how had he not thought of these ideas before?

you were on your stomachs, elbow touching as you observed the new suit plans. bruce turns his head towards you.

“you’re really smart, you know that?”

his sincerity caught your attention and you turned to meet his gaze as well. your face flushed at the closeness and you found it hard to keep eye contact.

“not as smart as you” you knock your shoulder into his and smile. you could tell bruce was thinking about something. he looked at you for a long while, before pulling his head back towards the papers. you tried your best to ignore the tension as you drew onto the paper.

alfred found the two of you sprawled out on the floor in the batcave the next day, fast asleep on top of your blueprints.

“perfect for each other” alfred smiles to himself, and leaves the two of you to your slumber. for a while, you both spend your nights this way, in the batcave, passing out on the floor after hours of talking about suit designs or random topics that came to mind. slowly but surely, you were finding it harder and harder to fall asleep on your own.

one night, you were half asleep, but the sound of mumbling encouraged you to sit up and blink the grogginess away. you recognized it as bruce’s voice echoing down the long hallway, and he sounded afraid. your feet hit the cold floor and you slowly tiptoed your way into the hallway and over to his door. you pressed your ear against it, and realized he was dreaming, mumbling incoherently. slowly, you push the door open and peer inside. whimpers we’re escaping his lips as he tossed and turned in the bed.

“bruce?” you whispered his name, but he didn’t wake. you stepped to the side of his bed and poked his shoulder lightly. you’d never heard bruce talk in his sleep before. he still didn’t wake.

“no…. no please” you couldn’t barely make it out as the words escaped his lips, his brows were furrowed and you swear you saw the gleam of a tear on his cheek. finally, you placed your hand on his shoulder and shook until he woke up. he came to with a gasp, sitting up sharply and sliding away from you. he looked like a scared animal, scanning the room frantically and taking heavy breaths.

“bruce it’s okay! it’s me, it’s Y/N. you’re safe” you hold your hands up in defense, afraid that if you touched him he would jump back again. finally, he snapped out of it. he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his black hair.

“fuck” was the only thing he said as he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest unconsciously.

“nightmare?” bruce nods in response and watches as you sit across from him on the ridiculously large bed. you match his position and rest your chin on your knees, peering over at him. when the moonlight hit his face, you saw the tears welling up in his eyes. the expression he had was something you’d never seen before on him. you realized he was being completely vulnerable with you. you didn’t say anything, instead deciding to take his large hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. a tear escapes his eye, you move to sit besides him and lean in to wipe it from his cheek before it can make it any further. bruce was looking deeply into you. he seemed far away in thought. you look back and decide not to lean away just yet.

“Y/N…” his voice was raspy and he maneuvered his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. you didn’t say anything else. instead, you closed the gap and pressed your lips against his. you couldn’t wait any longer. there wasn’t any hesitation. he was on you in a second, his lips and movements were desperate, and you were shocked to discover someone like him did not have much kissing experience.

in retrospect, this should have happened a while ago. tension was built over months and months of tiptoeing around one another. this deep want, deep need, came out in an explosion. your hands were in his hair and he had a death grip on your hips. he was afraid if he let go, you would disappear. you almost didn’t notice the way he pushed you down on the bed and crawled on top of you because of how entranced you were in the kiss. he pushes you down into the bed with a roughness you weren’t expecting. he interlocks his other hand with yours as well, and he holds them besides your head as he continued his attack on your lips. then you noticed, he was saying something. whispering it against your lips.

“please…. i… i need you. don’t leave me, please” his voice was shaking as he removed his hands from yours, now cradling your face. he was holding you like you would die tomorrow. “i don’t have anyone else.” you felt the sensation of one of his tears dropping onto your cheek. your brows furrow as you place your hands on top of his. your lips were brushing together ever so slightly as you spoke.

“bruce. never in a million years would i dream of leaving you. i love you.” he presses his forehead against yours and breathes deeply with seemingly relief. bruce slides down your body until he can rest his head on your chest. his large arms wrap around your frame and you almost don’t hear him when he says it.

“i love you too, Y/N.”

#batman #batman x reader #fanfiction #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne x reader #dc universe #one shot #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson one shot #the batman

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

Under The Radar | Bruce Wayne x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: hey there! can i request bruce wayne + "shut up, i just need a cuddle" from the new prompts list?? ty 🙏

summary: Bruce is especially fond of sneaking in to see you, but sometimes, the thing he wants most is little more than to take a nap on the sofa with a film on in the background.

tws: swearing, mentions of bruising

Bruce was happy to keep things under the radar, keeping you hidden from the newspapers and the magazines and their scavenging photographers, very rarely talking about you in interviews unless if you had said he could; dating Batman was one thing, and quite easy to deal with, as under the cover of darkness it was easy to find privacy and to protect it, but dating the billionaire was another thing. People wanted to know who you were, what you did, they wanted to know about your family, they wanted to know about if you were only with Bruce for his money. People wouldn't back off. Neither you or Bruce were particularly comfortable with putting your personal life in the spotlight; the most Bruce ever told them was that he was still very much in love with you, and he was very much content and happy with you.

Keeping things under the radar was probably the best decision you had ever made when it came to your relationship; he was more than happy to sneak into your flat when he had a couple of hours spare, taking the back way and knocking on the window until you let him in. Letting him crash on the sofa while you went about with your business; he would kick his feet up and would watch a film while you did laundry or cooked or cleaned or showered; you liked it like that, being able to just exist around one another and not having to do everything together. Sometimes, though, you would end up cuddled into his side as you looked through your phone, occasionally looking up at the television screen; a few times you could have sworn that the actor in the films looked just like him, but he always denied it.

Two lives were enough.

Today wasn't any different, although Bruce was a little slower than usual thanks to a nasty bruise on his side and another on his back, but he managed to get in, and he managed to collapse on your sofa and kick his feet up; he went through what films were available, and settled on one that he knew would catch your attention, as he knew that it was one that you liked. American Psycho. He was right, as within a couple of minutes, you were stood behind the sofa with your hands on the cushions either side of his head, a quiet laugh coming from you.

"Y'know, you look an awful like him," you told him. "Like, you could be twins."

Bruce grumbled, shaking his head. "Shut up, I just need a cuddle. Come here."

You made your way around, crashing into his good side and putting your head on his chest, laying one leg over his hips as you grumbled with content. "You really don't see the resemblance?"

"Shut up," he sighed, moving so that you were beneath him, he was quick to lay his head on your chest, a soft hum leaving him when you started to play with his hair. He couldn't help it as he smiled. "Thank you..."

You tilted your head to the side, gently raking through his soft brown strands as you looked at the screen, daring to laugh. "Oh, come on! He even wears the same fucking suits! Bruce, are you sure you're not living a third life as an actor?"

"Very," he chuckled. "Two is more than enough, especially when one means I get hounded by press as it is..."

"Yeah, if you say so," you teased, letting one leg dangle over the edge as you shifted around to get comfortable. "You wanna take a nap?"

"I would love to take a nap," Bruce admitted.

"Yeah, I thought so," you mused. "If you nap, though, you can cook tea."

"I can do that..."

He snuggled into you a little more, his eyes starting to drift shut as he clung onto you, his breathing getting softer and his eyes closing; he liked days like this, where you were perfectly content and happy to take unscheduled naps with him on the sofa without questioning it. He smiled, daring to push your shirt up a little so that he could feel your stomach against his fingertips, able to feel the gentle rising and falling and the warmth of your touch; he grumbled, letting out a quiet yawn as he started to drift off.

"G'night, Bruce," you whispered, your eyes getting heavy as you tried not to succumb to sleep yourself, a smile on your lips and your fingers ceasing to play with his hair, letting your hand simply lay there amongst the soft strands as you hummed.

"G'night, (y/n)."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman imagine #batman x y/n #batman x you #batman x reader #batman oneshot #batman #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #christian bale imagine #christian bale x reader #christian bale

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 8 months

Text

Alternative Universe Father-In-Law

Word Count: 2,700

Summary: Bruce enters a portal by mistake, leading him to bring back someone from another universe for a nice breakfest.

Pairing: Bruce x female!reader

Notes: I enojyed the comic and the animated movie where thomas meets bruce and i had an idea to write for it. also give alfred some well desserved flowers in being a dad. #alfreddesreveshisflowers

Warnings: dad that has come back with the milk

'I am telling you, Lois. Clark is stubborn, but he has a weak spot; mention the missing turkey of '08, and he will shut up and let you do whatever you want. "

'Wait! That really works?'

'Of course, it does. I have known Clark for 7 years, and I was the witness to that crime, so just mention it: he will fall back, trust me. Now I have to go. I am home.'

'Thanks, doll!'

'No worries, bye!'

Opening the big door, you enter with your phone nestled on top of your shoulder as you held the grocery bags. Stepping into the manor, you noticed the living room where Alfred was dusting behind the plasma screen.

'Mistress y/n. Welcome back.' The cheerful butler spoke as he walked to you, grabbing the grocery bags

'Thank you, Alfred. How was your day?' I asked him, striding next to him as we entered the spacious kitchen that held the marble island in the middle, placing the bags on top of it

'My day was good. The gardener came by and took care of the bush that Master Damian had 'shaped' with his swords yesterday. Although the poor man left with a terrible mind haze after finishing the Herculean task, managing to shape it back into a proper bush, and not some rhombus as Master Damian did.'

'Do remind me to tell Damian to leave the shrubs at peace. Maybe he can use those swords' skills to cut up meat when we have BBQs.'

'That seems like a great idea.'

The two hushed and resumed their conversation as Damian entered, his smile non-existent, his eyes scrunched into a tight-knit. You turn to him, saying with a slight chuckle

'Speak of the devil. What's up, Dami?'

The child walked between Alfred and you, crossing his arms and with a deep sigh, he articulated gradually

'Father has disappeared.'

You look at Alfred, knowing fully well that sometimes Bruce disappears to follow a clue, 'He will turn up by the end of the day. Bruce is like that, don't worry, sweetheart.'

'That is true, even before his vigilante lifestyle, Master Bruce was always the one to go with no notice but always turned up when his belly rumbled.'

With a giggle nestled in Alfred's sentence, Damian spoke again, shaking his head 'No. Father and I have been working on a portal and when I was grabbing a tool, he connected two wires, which opened a portal and pulled him in. By the time I came close, the portal closed.'

Looking at Alfred with a concerned look, you spoke what you two were thinking, 'And how come you two didn't tell us about that portal?'

Damian shook his head 'I-I have no clue, y/n.'

'Okay... and do you know where the portal leads to?'

'Between our world and other 456 parallel universes.'

fuck

Sighing deeply, you look at Damian 'So we have 1 in a 456 chance of finding him?'

'Yes. So are we going?' Damina asked, ready to jump into the adventure of the chance to jump from one universe to another

'No. We aren't. Damian, I can barely turn on the TV here without asking for help. And by no means will I manage to open a portal. We only have to wait and be next to the Bat computer to see if there are any anomalies. If an anomalie happens, I know someone who can help us.' I say, looking at the small assasin child

Damian looks up at you, his eyes asking questions, 'Who do you know, mother?'

'A friend, someone I knew way before you and Bruce. Even before I met Clark.'

You look at Alfred smiling 'He will show up, right Alfred?'

Alfred responds, faying his smile 'Of course, Misstress y/n.'

While the day dragged along in a snail-pace of time, you felt yourself doze off on the bat computer, a small trail of drool leaving a trail on the keyboard that was far too uncomfortable, but when you are fatigued, anything can be a pillow, and that stiff neck fo yours is a problem in the morning.

A shift in the air moved and circled, stirring you up from your slumber. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the luminous light that materialized in the Batcave, the wind pushing around the whirlpool of light as a tall, a dark shadow exited out. Staying up on numb legs, you felt the same pull you felt with Bruce, a warm safe space that drew you two always closer.

'Bruce?' you asked cautiously as you paused. The shadow you saw his features, the sharp hairstyle that was always in place, his tall and muscled build that was engraved in your mind. You knew that was him. Moving to him, you felt a wave of relief wash over you but another one followed, disappointment.

'Where were you?! We were worried sick about your stupid ass! How could you not tell me that you were making a goddamn portal in the house, Bruce!' you directed your words at him, the light of the rustled and shined over his taller-than-usual figure but nonetheless, you continued, 'And don't think for a fact you went to another universe that means I will get any sympathy from me. You are sleeping on the couch for the next 3 weeks.'

As the portal began to size down the light shimmered down you step back letting yourself catch a breath, sure you were mad but you were also glad that he was alive.

With the portal gone, the shadow started to dissipate bringing back the man you loved. You waited, a small smile on your face as you heard him speak a few shades deeper than what you know 'You were right. She is a firecracker.' Stepping back few more steps at the unfamiliar tone you watched a shape move behind him tall as him, same as him, did Bruce duplicate?

Leaning on the Bat computer, ready to press the button on the keyboard to call the remainder of the Bat Family you watched carefully as one moved closer to you, revealing... Bruce, your Bruce with a small smile.

'Sorry I was gone, dalrin.''

'Bruce, what is going on?'

'I met someone along the way.' Bruce steps for you to see the man that you talked to, with one confident step the man steps to you, his features coming to light, grey hair styled in a way that not even the wind could move one strand, his blue eyes decorated with wrinkles and his smile eerily identical to Bruce's looking at them side by side it struck you

'Love, this is my father, Thomas Wayne. In the universe I stumbled upon was a universe where my father was the Batman, and I was shot that night.'

Thomas smiled warmly at you, offering a hand to shake 'It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. L/n. Bruce has told me a great deal about you.' Shaking his strong hand, you think

What a great first impression. First, I thought he was Bruce and second I gave him an earful. What a great first impression.

'It is great to meet you, Dr. Wayne. I apologize for my actions beforehand, I thought you were Bruce and wel-'

'No worries about that. It is great to know that my son has someone who keeps him in check.' He spoke as you awkwardly laughed it off.

Bruce stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist 'Let's try this one more time. Father, this is Y/n, she is the love of my life, and the woman I wish to marry and spend the rest of my life.'

It's your time to be shocked yet again. You and Bruce never talked about it, only joking about being called Mrs.Wayne but he never communicated his desire to get married. Thomas glimpsed at the two of you, Bruce stood proudly with you while you tried your best to conceal your red cheeks and shocked eyes at his claims 'You better treat her right, son.' Thomas spoke

'He does, Dr. Wayne.'

You uttered, looking at the alternative universe father-in-law as Bruce examined your expression and in that moment, he felt himself fall in love yet again with you.

'How about we grab a bite? I am sure that Dr. Wayne would appreciate a good breakfast.'

Thomas nodded his head in agreement, beaming 'I'd love that, but y/n, no need for formalities. Call me Thomas. I haven't been a doctor in decades.'

'Sure. Thomas.'

Grabbing Bruce's hand you three exit the Batcave and head to the living room.

Strolling into the living room, you smelt Alfred's mouthwatering breakfast, scented the familiar maple syrup, and took notice of the sizzling bacon.

'I am bringing our guests.' You announced and Alfred cracked a smile as he watched you bring Bruce into the dining room where Damian was already seated. Alfred placed the lofty breakfast on the table. Pivoted to Bruce switching into scolding mode 'Now, young Master, I think we could have a great and lenghty chat about what goes in the Batcave.'

As Bruce stood behind you, Thomas' voice boomed into the ear of the butler 'I agree, Pennyworth. He surely needs that talk."

Alfred froze when he heard that voice. His eyes caught onto Thomas and he felt and thought that he was dead, joining the afterlife as there was no way that the deceased Thomas Wayne was standing before him.

'Master Wayne?' Alfred weaved quietly towards the man, and Thomas smiled 'Hello, old friend.'

He spoke, grabbing the longtime friend into a bone-crushing hug. Smiling at the interaction, Damian stood from his seat, walking towards his alternative universe grandfather 'So by my conclusion…you are my grandfather?'

Thomas stepped and crouched down to his eye level, smiling 'Yes, but I am. From another world.'

'I figured as much.'

Thomas looked at Damian and Bruce, his gaze shifting from one to another 'The resemblance is uncanny. He is your and y/n's copy.'

You felt yourself freeze as you interrupted him 'Thomas, he isn't mine. I--i mean he is my son but he didn't come from my stomach. Damian's mother is a leader of a group of assassins.'

Thomas stood up, watching his son 'You cheated, son?'

Bruce shook his head 'Father, no. Damian's mother and I met before me and y/n. Damian's mother was a --'

'She is a cold-hearted assassin who doesn't care about me or my well-being.' Damian cut in, saying what he considered his mother.

Thomas looks to the side, a bit shy about this situation, thanks Bruce.

Alfred coughs dryly, breaking the tension 'Let us all sit for a nice breakfast.'

Sitting next to Bruce you saw his smile, his true smile. The one reserved for you, comfort moments you both encountered and made, a smile that told you he felt at peace.

As everyone ate you desired to ask questions your father-in-law 'So Thomas, what do you think about Bruce being this world's Batman?'

Thomas looks at you a slight smile 'I always believed in the multiverse, and I alwats hoped that in one of them my son is alive and living his life. Being Batman, I suppose, is a part of the Wayne lineage, but what I mostly hold important in my heart is that my son is happy.' And he smiles bigger. 'And I can see that he truly is.’

Blushing at Thomas' words you looked at Bruce, your eyes twinkling with love while his blue irises showered you in silent praise 'I definitely am.'

Damian whispers to Thomas 'Thanks a lot. Now they will make-out in front of us.' Thomas laughs, whispering in the exact low tone 'That's good. It's better than to fight, besides, Martha adn I were the same. Always in love, never apart.'

Bruce turns to Damian saying slyly, 'You are aware that you are across the table, and not 40 meters away, Damian. We can still hear you.'

Damian rolls his eyes, playfully but nonetheless taking his grandfather's words to heart. It is definitely better for them to be in love and not fight. 'I have to feed Bat-Cow. Y/n, will you help me? I am too short to get the ball of hay.'

Smiling you stand up, leaving with Damian. Alfred, Thomas, and Bruce stayed at the table.

'Bat-Cow?' Thomas asked, perplexed, while his hands tingled

'No worries, Master Wayne. Thankfully, it is not a hybrid of a cow and bat; it is just a plain cow with an artistic name.' Alfred spoke

'Father, stay.' Bruce blurred out, declaring the thing he wished he would receive an optimistic answer to

'Bruce... I can't. If I stay long enough, my universe will disappear. Besides, if I did.... I don't want you to grieve all over again.'

'Believe me, Master Wayne...Master Bruce still grieves to this day.'

Thomas stands up from his seat, hugging his son 'I love you, Bruce. There is no need to grieve anymore. It won't change anything. You have no idea how much it brings me happiness to see you happy with Alfred, your son, and Y/n.’ Thomas didn't let Bruce stand up, not to see the small pixel-like specs encircling Thomas' legs. Alfred noticed the scene but stayed silent.

'When I see you looking at your son and Y/n I see myself and my life I had before that night. And it makes me so happy to see it. I know that it can be better. You make me proud every day, and will continue to do so."

The pixels reached Bruce's eyesight, standing up to look at hIs father, Bruce weakly said 'Stay...please.'

'It's not me to decide but I am happy I had a nice meal with your family.'

Kissing his forehead, Thomas dissipated back into his universe. Bruce looks at Alfred a small tears escaping his eye. The two men stand up, hugging each other, leaning on this moment. Bruce wanted to talk to his father more to make up for the lost and stolen time. It was time that he wanted nothing more than to be a son again. Alfred wanted to talk more to Thomas about Bruce. To tell him how he has matured, how he traveled the world and yet came back home, in Gotham, to make the city shine brighter than ever. To tell him how Bruce keeps an engagement ring for y/n ever since she moved into the manor but is not sure when to pop the question.

Both Bruce and Alfred wanted to tell him about their path of trying to grasp at straws to find justice in this forsaken town.

Pulling away from the hug Alfred spoke, 'As you can see, your father is proud at you. And I believe that goes for every Thomas Wayne in any alternative universe.'

Bruce looked at Alfred, nodding in confirmation 'I do believe that but I also am proud of the father that raised me as well. The one standing in front of me.'

Alfred's eyes twinkled in appreciation no words needed to be spoken at that response, there simply weren't those words that could how Alfred felt in this moment.

Steps echo closer and closer as you come back, with no sight of Thomas.

'Is he gone?' You ask, seeing Bruce walk to you, a smile on his face.

Bruce nods, hugging you, Feeling a bit sad at not being able to say goodbye to your father-in-law you ask Bruce 'How are you feeling?'

Pulling away Bruce chuckles 'Good. This moment made me realize some things. About my family.'

Bruce understood. The reason he went into that portal and brought his father here, it was a shifting moment for him, a moment to bring him in a more grateful state, he knew how lucky he was to have Alfred as his father figure, his son, and you, possibly his future fiancee.

That is until he pops the question.

Hope you enjoyed it!

#imagine #robert pattinson batman #batman one shot #batman imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc x reader #justice leauge imagine #justice league #batman x reader #thomas wayne #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #dribble

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empresskylo · 2 years

Text

𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

✓𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗱

・❥・ Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman x Female!Reader ・❥・ Series Summary: It happened a while ago: the day you stumbled into the batman. And ever since, he seemed to pop up exactly when you needed him. You thought it was stupid to try and be his friend. He thought it was dangerous to let you in. Both of you did it anyway. ・❥・ Rating: Explicit — eventual smut, violence, blood, eventual romance, slow burn, friends to lovers ・❥・ Word Count: 22,921

chapters Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11

「 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 」

*•.¸♡main masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ᳝ ࣪ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ᳝ ࣪ ִ ۫ ˑ

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devilfic · 1 year

Note

Don’t know if you are taking requests but maybe battinson and reader doing their mbti test, and reader getting a villain personality.

lmfao

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: implied sexual content but no body parts mentioned. words: 894.

a/n: gratuitous amount of italics here. not sorry. implied sub!bruce but that's not what this is about. also, anon, guess who ELSE has a villain personality type according to google :)

who's gonna tell him

You probably know he’s not really listening. With the wrench between his teeth, fingers straining to reach into the void of his engine and find where the Batmobile had gone unresponsive, he’s only half present. Maybe a third at best. Still, he enunciates through the metal, already forgetting what you'd called him, “INT...C? What does that mean?”

“I-N-T-J. You’re the architect. It means you’re introverted, intuitive, thinking, and judging. You’re good at problem solving and detective work, of course. But you struggle emotionally and are prone to being… ‘socially clueless’.” From your spot in the driver’s seat, Bruce makes a show of leaning around the propped up hood just to be clear on how much he disapproves. He even removes the wrench with his oil-slick hand so he can frown properly. “I didn’t write this, babe. Don’t look at me.”

“You’re reading it to me.”

“I just wanted to know if we’d be compatible!”

He huffs, having found what ever kink in the machine he was looking for and focusing on that instead. He disappears behind the hood but his voice carries through the terminus loud and clear, “Well, are we?”

You decide to do some research.

Somewhere between Bruce triumphing over the engine and coming around to the window to gloat, he catches you staring incredulously at your phone.

“What's the verdict? Are we sworn enemies?” Your eyes dart up to Bruce’s and the longer you stare at him, picking him apart in silence, the more his smile begins to fade. For a second, he starts to think you actually might be sworn enemies. For a millisecond, he starts to care.

"I took the test." You declare, voice freakishly even. Bruce isn't smiling anymore.

"And?"

"I got ENTJ."

"And?"

"We're compatible, sure, whatever," Bruce squints, confused, because you'd been more excited to know the answer to that than he was, "but then I fell down this rabbit hole—I wanted to see who we shared personalities with—and then I found this article. Guess what we are?"

You turn your phone to him. You've pulled up a web result for “Which MBTI personality types are villains?”. In the blurb at the very top, he reads INTJ. Then he looks over at you, your eyes wide and suspicious, and he’d ask you to stop giving him that look if it wasn’t for the way your mouth starts to curl up.

You’re not suspicious. You’re impish. “We’re both villains.”

Sure enough, the other most common villain personality type is ENTJ.

Bruce thinks it’s silly, a little less silly than when you’d done his natal chart (but he’d sat and asked questions all the same, a little too invested in the bits about his childhood karma) because the quiz at least knew something about him, but silly nonetheless.

But you’re also enjoying it enough that he leans into it, feels his own lips curling up too. He folds his arms on the door and leans inside the car, casting a dark shadow over you, "I have enough bad press as it is."

You giggle. You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze, "I don't know. I think you'd be pretty sexy as a villain."

Bruce watches you through hooded eyelids and considers, for a moment, that maybe you're a little too into this. He treads the waters, wondering whether you'll show your hand. He digs through his memory for what you'd called him, the other thing that had actually stuck, “The architect and…”

“The commander.” You finish, jutting your chin up with pride.

“Sounds about right.”

“I'll be the one in control, and you'll be my pretty little mastermind making everything happen.”

“Sounds sort of right.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’? You’re a slave to my every whim.”

“Oh, I'm your slave now?" Bruce drops an octave with intention, delighting in your fingernails biting into his muscles. "Since when?"

Your eyes fucking twinkle. You look so excited that he fleetingly wonders if he should keep an eye on you. And he imagines you’d enjoy having him bested, kneeling at your feet as you unmask him and lean in and grin and declare, victorious- “Haven’t you always been?”

Your breath on his lips hasn’t even cooled before he’s leaning into the car and craning your mouth up to meet his, a hand at your jaw and the other keeping him propped through the window.

He imagines too, just for fun, leaning into a getaway car to celebrate a job well done, before coming around the side to jet off into the sunset. A real Bonnie and Clyde.

He feels you tugging on his shoulders and leaning back into the driver’s seat, compelling him to follow. You almost drag him fully through the window (a feat that’s only possible because he’s basically putty in your hands right now), and he grips the center console to steady himself before he falls in and crushes you, “The car’s been fixed all of two minutes and you wanna defile it already?” Bruce accuses, not actually caring in the slightest.

You’re awful. Your eyes still twinkle beneath the innocent flutter of your eyelashes, clearly still on villains and evil plans and whatever images you’d conjured up in your brain after calling him your slave. What ever happened to not mixing business with pleasure? “Come on, Batman. Don't be such a prude."

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#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman one shot #batman scenarios #the batman scenarios #the batman x reader #batman fluff #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #mjwrites

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 {𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟎}

Words: 5.2k+

Summary: Bruce accepts the challenge.

Warnings: No Spoilers! Rich people being their privileged selves. Fem!Reader [no descriptions of race or body type]. Romanticizing of stalking. Chasing. Mentions of scars (+ slight insecurity). SMUT (oral [fem receiving], piv sex).

Parts: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven [Series Masterlist]

By clicking to read more you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and mature enough to read mature scenes :)

You let out the biggest sigh of the day as soon as you walk out of the elevator and into your home. You are quick to lean over the wall to take off your heels and let your bag fall from your shoulder to your hand. As well as turn on the lights as you move along the cold tiles of your apartment floor and leave your bag by the kitchen counter as you get close enough to it. Your body is on autopilot, at this point.

To say today was stressful at work is a real understatement. Everyone seemed to be in a bad mood over something, and you had to endure it all while on the phone with them. Your workers were doing their best in the middle of the chaos - that is a partner overreacting over a missing file in his drive.

In his defense, your partner is quite an older man and very much useless with technology. He has not been the easiest to work with through screens.

Your mother also decided to come by the office, which was very much unwanted on your part. As one can imagine, you were busy. Your desk was full of documents to sign, and you had a partner and his team on the line. They were ready to arrange a new affair that has to do with your business. While that happened, your assistant was in front of you trying to help you look for a certain document.

It was all a mess, and your mom got in the room, sat down, and watched you do all of it. To say you were quite aggravated is an understatement, again.

After everything was settled, you had more people coming into your office, and your mom still wanted to talk to you about something. She waited while distracted by her phone, and you caught yourself glaring at her.

All of it was just to talk about a restaurant for this week's dinner. You were ready to scream at that point.

The last few hours in the office were much better. You still had a lot to do, but it was still not as chaotic as the whole rest of your day.

It also has been a week since your night at the Tower. No one suspected or knew of a thing, and your driver didn’t even find it weird that you did not need a ride. All of it was covered with a little white lie of how you were tipsy and couldn’t find the car at the end of the night, so you caught a cab. It was much easier than you thought.

You walk over to your bathroom and start the shower. You already had started taking off your clothes on the way down the hall, so it was just a few more pieces of clothing, and you were under the water.

After a relaxing shower, you step out and walk out to your bedroom. You grab a white tank top and some underwear. And, after taking some time to dry yourself, you put on your clothes. Right as you’re about to reach for the products for your hair, you hear a faint sound coming from the other side of the apartment.

It was like something falling or being harshly put down. You’re not sure what it was but you don’t see yourself being exactly capable of defending yourself (or even having enough courage to check on what it was).

You stay still for a few seconds, trying to hear if there is any other sound. It could always be your bag that fell from the counter or something similar to that. You tell yourself that many times before even starting to open the products and grab your hairbrush.

Taking care of your wet hair takes a bit of time, and, thankfully, you don’t hear any other noises coming from the other side of the apartment. You found yourself many times checking if you have your phone with you, in case of an emergency… but then you remembered that you left it in your bag.

You turn off the lights in the bathroom and check your bedroom. Empty, just as you would assume. You begin to relax as you walk out of the bedroom and make your way down the hallway. Everything is just as you left it, and the alarm of the apartment’s fire escape door seems to still be active.

You walk over to the kitchen and flick the lights on once more. You walk over to the fridge and open it, trying to see what you could even do for dinner. You feel absolutely starving, but you’re not even sure anything you have looks any good.

You close the fridge to go over to grab your phone, planning to get some delivery instead, but you stop dead in your tracks. Your purse is right where you left it, but your phone is out of the bag. Laying right on top of the counter, screen up.

Your heart begins to speed up and you walk towards it. You grab it quickly and check the time and for any notifications. Maybe you were the one that didn’t put your phone back in your bag when you came in. Could that be possible? You were texting a coworker when you got into the elevator, so… it isn't as insane as you’re making it out to be.

You decide to check your purse while you’re at it. You check if there’s anything missing but you find everything in place. Your wallet is untouched and everything else is in their right little pockets inside. It is its usual organized mess. Maybe you really didn’t put your phone inside… Right?

Leaning back on the counter, you open your preferred app for food delivery and ignore the way your heart is speeding.

It is nothing. Nothing's going on. You’re just overreacting. You’ve been watching too many documentaries lately. You’re fine.

As you wait for the app to load nearby restaurants, you lift your gaze to look around the kitchen. Your overthinking mind makes you look even into the living room, which is still in darkness. You decide to turn on all of your lights, and you find nothing. Or, at least, no one.

There’s nothing for you to be afraid of.

You walk back to the place next to your bag and start looking through the list of restaurants. You bite your lip while trying to focus on all of the options and feel your mind still forcing you to look around the apartment once more.

Gosh, you are not letting this one go, are you?

You put down your phone and walk out of the kitchen. You check the living room again, and then back in the bedroom and the bathroom. You even check the locked rooms such as extra bedrooms and bathrooms. You even check behind curtains, under the beds, and on the other side of doors. And all of them are empty.

You sigh in utmost frustration and walk back to the kitchen. You walk back in and go over to where you were just standing. The weight in your chest now is much lighter, and your worry definitely isn't making your brain fry anymore than it already has for the day.

But your phone is nowhere to be seen.

Now, this time, you feel yourself beginning to panic. You hear the sound of a notification go off almost at the same time you notice the phone missing, and the notification sounds as if it’s coming from the entrance of the apartment. You look over your shoulder and hesitate in going any further.

This is absolutely someone having their fun at terrifying you, and they are doing a great job at it. Gotham is filled with crime, why would this ever come as a surprise to you?

You don’t walk over to the entrance and decide to stay in the kitchen. But…

How the fuck are you supposed to get help if anything goes to shit? If the phone is in the entrance, you have to get it to ask for help. Or, you can go downstairs and get help… but the emergency doors and the elevator are both at the entrance.

You hate how much of a choice you don’t have in all of this.

You move over to the entrance of the apartment and you peek in first. It is absolutely empty, but the light in it has always been soft and not quite strong in any way, so the corners are not so well lit. The lack of complete and bright illumination makes chills run down your spine.

Your phone is right on top of the center table, and you move to get it. There’s only one notification. A text from Bruce. You open the text with your shaking fingers, and your heart sinks.

You have to improve your survival skills.

At the same time, you’re done reading, you lift your gaze and begin to hear footsteps coming from the kitchen. They’re heavy and most possibly from boots. You put down your phone and stare at the doorway, awaiting the familiar figure to appear.

Bruce, just as you expect him, appears in the doorway. He only has a black hoodie on and his dark jeans and leather boots, a hood over his head.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You tell him.

You’re not sure if you feel pissed or you want to laugh. Bruce moves his arm slowly and points over his shoulder to the kitchen before speaking.

“Brought you dinner.” He simply says.

You continue to stare at him and notice how a smile is beginning to form on his lips. He must be feeling insanely proud to have done this to you. And, especially, for winning the challenge you two had made a week ago.

You had absolutely forgotten about the challenge. You two talked in that bedroom for probably an entire hour. You talked about everything and a little more. You were the one that grew tired quicker, and Bruce laid beside you while you fell asleep.

Even in the morning, before going home, he was there and you two talked for… too long - because you were really in the need to pee when you finished.

You haven’t been able to see each other much with all of your busy nights. So, it’s natural that you absolutely wiped the challenge from your mind. In a way, you can’t believe he actually did it.

“How did you get in here?” You ask him.

“Elevator.” He tells you naturally.

Fucking elevator?! How in the hell did they let him get in the elevator?

“They didn’t see me come up.” He explains, seeing your shock.

“But you need a key to use the elevator.” You ask, confused.

“Got one from behind the front desk.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Is it really this easy?

Bruce moves forward, walking towards you, and you wait until he gets too close to take a step back. You’re definitely not going to make it easy for him now. You two look at each other, eye to eye, and every time Bruce takes a step towards you, you take a step back.

Humor grows over Bruce’s face, and you try your best to hide your smile.

“What was it that you said, again?” He asks you while continuously stepping toward you. “About your security.”

You break into a smile as you are able to make your way around the center table, and he continues to follow you, showing absolutely no struggle to keep up with your movements.

“I said that they’re good security.” You tell him, still confident.

“They opened the door for me when I came in.”

Your urge to laugh has never been this high. It’s embarrassing how bad your security is, but you still have to give them the benefit of the doubt. For all you know, Bruce could have acted as a friend of one of your neighbors, and came in with them.

That sounds reasonable enough.

You check over your shoulder before turning towards the kitchen, where you also have an escape route to the living room. You two come into the more well-lit room, and you notice the bag of food that has been put down at the center of your kitchen counter.

“Did I get close to catching you?” You ask playfully. “When I was walking around the apartment.”

“I was behind you the whole time.”

You frown in question. Now, that has to be a lie. Yet, at the same time, Bruce doesn’t exactly seem like he’s lying. Even though he still looks like he’s having just as much fun as you, he sounds serious about what he’s saying.

“How?” You ask him, wanting to keep the conversation.

As Bruce opens his mouth to answer your question, you try to move over to the door that leads to the living room, but, with just one step, he ends your possibility right there. You exhale through your nose in frustration as you still try to get away from him, for nothing but fun, and try to continue your circle around the counter.

“I didn’t get into the rooms with you, but I was in the hallway the whole time.” He explains, “I’m just silent.”

“With those boots?” You don’t believe him.

He finds your objection funny and breaks into a smile. You try again to move over to the living room, but, this time, he outstretches his arm. So not fair.

You huff in defeat again and try the other way around, all while thinking about something that could be a topic of conversation, which could work as a distraction. The hood of his hoodie has fallen from his head, and the dark-clothed man watches as you continue to think of a way out.

“I just took a shower, you’re lucky I got time to put clothes on.” You tell him, try to get some humor back into the topic.

“Lucky?” He plays along.

You smile at the somewhat sexual remark and act as if you're continuing your circle on the counter.

“You are nasty, Wayne.” You comment.

Right as you say that, you’re able to make your way through the door over to the living room. Bruce sighs in defeat as you’re able to get past him, and your smile stretches into a bigger one. This time, a proud one.

You take a look over your shoulder to check if you’ll be colliding with anything if you keep moving back. You’re able to make your way around the couch, all while being extremely careful with corners because the man always gets close when you do them.

“Why am I chasing you again?”

“You criticized my survival instincts.” You answer him, “I don’t have bad survival instincts.”

“Yes, you do.”

“How so?”

“Unless you’re trying to tire me out as we walk around the house, at this point, you’ve passed at least 9 different possible weapons that you could use against me.”

Damn, he had time to count your kitchen knives?

“I’m not going to try and stab you, Bruce.” You tell him.

“You didn’t know it was me until 2 minutes ago.” He says to you.

You open your mouth to defend yourself but you found yourself having absolutely no good arguments that could fight his comment. You really don’t have any survival instincts. You went into the entrance of the house with absolutely nothing to protect yourself.

Maybe you are watching too many movies because you are seriously becoming as dumb as the protagonists.

You look to turn over to the doorway that leads back to the entrance but before you could even try it, Bruce ends your possibilities right there with a step.

“Why do I feel like you aren’t even trying?” You ask sincerely.

He doesn’t answer you. Gosh, he’s not even trying.

“Do you want me to try?” He asks instead.

You speed up your steps back as an answer, and Bruce is quick to get back to the distance that you two shared previously. Again, making it look absolutely effortless.

It doesn't even take more than a minute for you to practically be stuck doing circles around the couch or to be staring at each other from one of the sides of that same couch - with Bruce trying to predict the side you’re planning to move next.

And also, for you to get out of breath. Bruce was right, you can’t even get to tire him with this technique. You’re honestly using your weapon against yourself.

You still don’t give up. There are close calls, where you even felt the wind of his hand trying to grab you - which only made you scoot over and fall into a pit of panicked giggles. A very bad reaction to such a thing. Some people fight, some people fly, and you giggle. Great.

You eye him as you two stop again at either side of the couch. Every time you try to take a step to the left, Bruce tries to mimic you, and the same to the right. You try to go either direction at least 4 different times.

With a breathless sigh, you hold your hands by your hips and stare at him annoyingly. You’re not about to lose this, for fuck’s sake.

“Want to stop?” He asks when noticing how tired you already look.

“You wish.”

Bruce chuckles at you, and the lack of uneven breathing in his figure almost makes you want to hit him. How can he be this good at this?

You let your arms fall by your sides, acting as if in defeat, and do a fake step to the right, pretending to be heading to the center of the room once again. And he falls for it! You walk over to your left and pull the door of the living room open, heading back to the entrance. A room with much more space and possibilities of escape. As well as a possibility to get back to the kitchen and act as if you get a gun.

You are not even 3 steps out of the living room, and an arm wraps around your torso. You let out a panicked scream, which seemed more like a squeal than anything. You try to fight Bruce off, and the man has the complete audacity to laugh as you try to shake yourself off of his hold.

It is absolutely useless. He holds you flush against him, and no matter how many times you turn in his arms to face him and pull at his chest, or try and grab his arm and pull it back to free yourself. It is absolutely useless.

And you can only guess that your laughter while you did all of that fighting wasn’t the greatest of ideas. You are breathless and actually tired.

“Are you done?” Bruce asks as soon as you stop moving.

Oh, that only makes you try again.

You push at his chest again and pull at his arm, and, no matter how useless it seems to be, you still do it. You try to duck and move around the arm, also nothing. You try to turn around and reach for something for you to grab, but you're too far.

It’s ridiculous how bad you are at this.

Bruce laughs practically the whole time, letting you try your best as he continues to have his iron grip around your body. Not even struggling for more than just a few seconds.

When you turn back to him to do the push-at-the-chest technique again (because it has worked so well, for the time being), Bruce moves down, releases his hold on your torso, and wraps his arm around the back of your thighs, throwing you right over his shoulder.

“This is just humiliating at this point.” You comment while dangling from his shoulder.

Bruce laughs and starts to make his way to your bedroom. You watch the floor pattern as he walks. It’s not like you can try anything else from up there, because if you fall off, you can hit your head and that is not that cool to do.

You enter your bedroom and, not even 2 seconds in, Bruce throws you to the center of the bed and makes you laugh as you bounce on the mattress.

“You’re already taking me to bed?” You ask playfully.

“I did buy you dinner, you just took too long to find it.” He answers back.

While you chuckle at his words, Bruce hovers over you, and you come up, holding yourself up by your elbows. He smiles down at you and closes the space between the two of you. Your soft lips touch his, and Bruce’s hands lay by each side of your body, holding himself up.

You bring your hands to his head after pulling him down to lay on the bed with you while, simultaneously, running your fingers through his hair. His body stays in between your legs, and one of his hands lay on your side, making you feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of your shirt.

Bruce grips the fabric of the shirt and pulls at it slightly. His hands move underneath it and you moan against his lips at the familiar touch. He continues to pull at the fabric slowly and, without even detaching your lips, he moves it over your chest.

Bruce pulls away from the kiss and begins to kiss down your neck. As he gets down to your chest, he pulls back and helps you take out your shirt. One that soon flew off his hands over to someplace on your wooden floors. He lays kisses on your chest, littering your skin with kisses as he moves along.

His hands grab onto the waistband of your underwear and begin to pull them down. He pulls back to get rid of them, and you help him by moving each of your legs. Your eyes stay on him, noticing how he doesn’t ever move to start to strip himself, and how his strands of dark hair fall to his face and get in the way of his sight.

Once your lips reconnect, your fingers move to brush back his hair, and his calloused hands move over every inch of your soft skin. His lips rebegin to come down your neck, chest, stomach, and, with your hand still over his hair, you feel the warmth that fills your body as he continues to move.

At the specific feeling of his tongue in between your folds, your grip on his hair tightens and a moan leaves your lips. One of your legs is thrown over his clothed shoulder, and his hands grip the flesh of your thighs.

“Shit, Bruce.” You whisper breathlessly.

His lips close around your clit, and your moans reappear to fill the silence in the room. The pleasure is unspeakingly good, but, even as you feel it grow inside of you, you can’t fight back the annoyance that also rests at the back of your head. And that comes from the feeling of the fabric of Bruce’s clothes underneath your leg.

You pull his head back through your grip on his hair, and Bruce’s eyes find yours right at that second. Some sort of worry builds at the middle of his chest, but it lessens as you pull him upwards again, reconnecting your lips. He abides by your wishes, moving his mouth against yours as your tongues touch, and you let out a short moan.

Your hands get back to work, and you grip onto the shirt's fabric. You pull it up, and your hands find his skin not too long after. At the feeling of your touch, Bruce roughens the kiss, getting an audible reaction from you against his lips. Your acrylic nails softly and teasingly run down the skin of his back, matching his roughness in the kiss.

“Take your hoodie off.” You tell him when you’re able to pull back from the kiss for just a bit.

Bruce looks you in the eyes as you ask for it and he does as told. He pulls back from your body and grabs onto the hoodie from behind his head, pulling it over his head and then throwing it down to the ground on the floor.

As he comes to rebegin your kiss, you meet him halfway, and your hands work through the scarred skin that you’ve easily grown familiar with. One of your hands comes to rest by his cheek, cupping it softly even when your kiss continues to feel hungry and rough. One of Bruce’s hands holds onto your side while the other one works up to your chest. You moan against his lips as his finger touches your nipple and lightly pinches it.

As your pleasure grows, you hold onto his shoulder harder, and Bruce doesn’t seem to even begin to care about that.

An idea sparks in your head, and you almost smile into the kiss. You pull away from the kiss, making Bruce look at you, and you smile at him. Lips slightly swollen and just appearing to be even more kissable than ever.

You push him back with your hands over his shoulders, and he’s quick to notice what you want as you make him to move to the side.

Bruce sits on the bed this time as you’d like, and, not even a second later, you take a seat over his lap. Bruce’s hands hold onto your naked hips, and you brush his hair back before kissing him once more, feeding into your addiction to having your lips against his. Your hands, impatient, find his pants, and you begin to undo them.

Bruce does obviously help out at one point, by pulling his clothes down, even when you’re still on top of him, but, really doesn’t help that you are, indeed, on top of him. Your hands find his dick and Bruce almost forgets what he’s doing for a second. Your hands are so soft, and the way he finds you looking down at your own hands, it almost feels like a part of his dirtiest dreams.

Your thumb moves over the head of his cock, precum coating the pad of your finger as you move it teasingly. Pleasure in the bottom of your stomach burns your insides as you spend each second near this man. You let go of him and look up to find him already staring at you. Without hesitation, you bring your thumb to your lips and lick your finger clean.

Bruce almost appears emotionless when you do it, but he knows he must have let some expression out because your expression breaks into one of your perfect smiles. His grip on your hips and thighs, and you stand on your knees, not wasting any more time now. You line up the head of his cock with your entrance and slowly move down to sit on his lap.

Your mouth hovers Bruce’s as the two of you react to the pleasure simultaneously. One of your hands grips his shoulder, and you let out a short moan. You move slowly, trying to grow accustomed to the size at first, and Bruce lets you do your thing.

You begin to move up and down and, even though you don’t take all of him just yet, you already feel pleasure beginning to grow inside you. As you begin to relax as well, Bruce begins to take control back. His hands right on your hips measure your movements from time to time, and you begin to stop having control over the sounds that leave your mouth.

He pulls your hips down with each movement, making you take more of him with each one. You glue your lips to his again, wanting to mask your own pleasure, but you moan even louder when Bruce pulls on your hips to sit entirely on his lap. You feel full and pleasure courses through you to a point that even the slight discomfort feels good.

You try to move upwards again, but Bruce doesn’t let you. You whine against his lips, and he remains his hands over your hips, fingers on your soft flesh while measuring your every movement. You squeeze him, and Bruce groans onto your kiss as well.

“Please.” You whisper at him in between the kisses.

He lets you move a bit, but you feel him make sure that you always go entirely down each time.

With each thrust, you feel lightheaded, lost in the pleasure, and completely melted into his hold, but you don’t ever stop.

Everything feels so good and as his touch continues to roughen with what seems each night that you spend together, your bliss only grows.

The room’s silence fills with the sound of your moans, Bruce’s groans, and the slapping of the skin. Your hearing begins to muffle, and Bruce pulls away from your kiss to attach his lips to the skin of your neck. His lips move over to your chest, and one of his hands lifts from your hip, his thumb now over your clit. You moan louder, and his lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You fasten the movements of your hips, and so do Bruce’s over your clit. The pleasure, at one point, almost feels like too much, and you feel like you can’t take it anymore.

You cling onto Bruce as you keep going, and you feel him pinch your clit ever so slightly. You cry out at the feeling and throw your head back, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Bruce’s lips come back to your neck and he feels you squeeze him entirely. Your sounds, either the ones from your voice or from the wet skin slapping each time, and now the way your walls squeeze him perfectly gets him closer too, but he focuses on you instead, each and every time.

His fingers begin to work over your clit with more pressure and a bit of a faster pace and he notices as you mimic his pace as well. You moan in response. You feel yourself getting closer and closer and so does he.

He continues to also make sure you go down enough and with a simple thrust, you finally bring yourself to your peak. Pleasure explodes throughout your body, making you experience an orgasm like never before. Bruce makes sure that he rides out your orgasm, making it last and making you feel each and every second of it.

You lean your head over his shoulder as it begins to calm down, and Bruce slows down. You bring your head up and look him in the eyes before kissing him. His rough hands work through your sides as you continue seated with him inside you, hard. Your fingers lay over his skin and when you pull back, you let out a whisper, almost as if just remembering it.

“You didn’t come.” You tell him, a weak whisper against his lips.

Bruce leans closer and your foreheads touch, lips still hovering one another.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Hope you liked this!! <3

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