#batcat fic

[unseemingowl]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle

Fandom: The Batman

Rating: E

Summary:

Selina hadn’t intended to take the pouch of diamonds. That wasn’t why she had showed up. It had just sort of happened. Not that he was likely to believe that for a second.

Stealing from a crime scene is a sure fire way to get the Batman on your tail in hot pursuit.

[brulina]

Sonata in Darkness

“You know, I’m surprised this place hasn’t been rented out to a new tenet yet,” she muses, keeping him in her periphery to note any subtle shifts in posture. “It’s so clean,” she continues, “much cleaner than I ever kept it. The water and lights are still working…” She opens the cabinets beneath the sink and pulls out a red tin box. “And my first aid kit is completely empty.” Only his head lifts and turns slightly, as if waiting to see what else she’ll say. Unfortunately, she’s too impatient to play detective tonight. “You’ve been coming here, haven’t you?” she asks outright. This makes him turn to face her completely. “Sometimes,” he says, gauging her response. “If I’m in the area.” “And you cleaned all this up?” He steps to the opposite side of the dining table from her. “Someone is paid to come by every week for general upkeep, but I…I try to feed the strays when I can.” Selina has never known her heart to feel so torn between emotions—fear and a swelling of affection. “Why?” she whispers. His eyes linger across her face. “Just in case.”

Selina's friend, Holly Robinson, is abducted, leading her to find help in the city she thought she left behind.

Part One of Four - COMING SOON

[florallychaotic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: The Batman (Movie 2022) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Bruce has it baaaad, Didn't get enough of pathetic bruce wayne in the film and I aim to provide, Canon Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Female Character, Identity Reveal, the terror and beauty of being known Summary:

He watches her drive off, accepting his goodbye was shit.

Three weeks later she shows up in his scorched out penthouse.

[targsdaenerys]

working (living, dying) for the knife - batcat/bruce x selina

ch. 4/5 - we’re two slow dancers (last ones out): part i

Months after the Riddler’s attack, the emotional effects start to take their toll on Selina and Bruce as they learn that they somehow will always find each other.

rating: e

warnings: graphic depictions of violence

words: 8.5k

pairing: bruce wayne/batman (2022) x selina kyle

read here

enjoy:)

[theflirtmeister]

feels like a fair trade

Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle - teen - The Batman 2022

Selina buys the outfit with a stolen credit card, ships it express to her studio apartment. Bruce watches silently as she slices open the box with a knife, unable to take his eyes away from her.

“Get changed.” Selina says once everything is laid out on the bed, bra, panties, stockings.

Bruce doesn’t move from his position in the doorway, casting a shadow over the room. He can’t stop looking at the black fabric against the white of Selina’s bedspread.

“Baby.” Selina says, interrupting his thoughts. “You wanted this.”

read the rest on Ao3 here

[starswillow]

i have not logged into this account in like well over a year butttt i am on twt and i write a lot recently so gotham tv batcat likers u shoulddd read this 😁👍

[marieandr]

Fic: turn it upside down (just you and me)

Pairing: Baby Batcat Rating: T AO3 Link: Here Notes: Why does no one care about Selina’s birthday in the Gotham fandom?Can’t find the fic you want, guess you gotta write it yourself. Catch me on main @secretsecrettunnel

“How old are you?”

“I think it’s a bit late to be worrying if I’m a minor or not now, don’t you B?” She turns away, rifling through the small chest of drawers until she finds a knitted hat - she’s not sure if it’s hers or Bruce’s - and she pulls it on to hide her hair.

“Happy birthday B.”

Her words are muffled against the skin of his chest, most of her body still on top of his as they lie underneath a pile of blankets and their discarded jackets. He trails the fingers of the arm wrapped around her up and down her bare back, connecting freckles he knows are there with invisible lines.

“Thanks,” Bruce presses a kiss into her mess of curls, wild after running his hands through them. “Quite a bit different from how we celebrated my last birthday.”

“I dunno,” Selina stretches, the movement rolling from the tips of her toes all the way up to her neck, her whole body shifting against him and making him shudder. She peers up at him from under her hair, a shit-eating grin spreading from ear to ear. “I still got my cake and I got to eat it too this year.”

“Selina…” Bruce groans as an embarrassed flush blooms up his neck and cheeks. She laughs in reply, shifting to press kisses along the side of his jaw before pushing herself above him on one elbow.

“We should get dressed, Gotham in February with heat is cold - No Man’s Land in February with no heat is how we’ll die,” Selina watches as Bruce’s eyes dart from her face down to the space between them and the expanse of pale skin she’s put on display. “Hey - eyes up here, big boy.”

She is standing in the middle of the room mostly dressed and trying and failing to push her hair into some semblance of not freshly-fucked-mess when she looks up and meets Bruce’s intense stare. His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s pulling on his gloves slowly.

“What?”

“How old are you?”

“I think it’s a bit late to be worrying if I’m a minor or not now, don’t you B?” She turns away, rifling through the small chest of drawers until she finds a knitted hat - she’s not sure if it’s hers or Bruce’s - and she pulls it on to hide her hair.

“Selina.” He’s right behind her and she sighs as he pulls on her shoulders, turning her body to face his. Her hands play with her hair as he stares at her. She raises her eyebrows in challenge and it’s his turn to sigh before he reaches up and helps fix the mess he caused.

“I was born the year before you,” Selina says quietly. Bruce’s hand stops fussing with her hair and he grasps the side of neck, his gloved thumb rubbing the soft spot behind her ear. She wraps her own gloved hand around his wrist, missing the feeling of his warm skin already. “So I guess I’m twenty. Nearly. Maybe.”

“You guess?”

“B, my mom left when I was five. I had a few other things to worry about that were more important than remembering my birthday.” She rolls her eyes at him with a smile. Her head turns in his grasp and she presses a kiss to his gloved palm. “C’mon, you promised you’d share your birthday can of peaches with me.”

...

Bruce promises her that it’ll be worth it, crossing through the dark parts of the city that were not the green zone. They move quickly down dirty side alleys, ducking behind cars when they hear other people and standing closer together than needed in the shadows when they stop to peer around corners.

He leads her to a nicer part of the island - or as nice as any part of Gotham could be after the bridges had been blown. She doesn’t say anything to him, but she knows she has definitely burgled a few of the apartments in this neighbourhood.

They sneak inside one of the complexes quickly - he has a key, but they don’t want anyone to see them entering a building and making themselves an easy target. There’s no power in the building so the elevator is not an option - ten flights of stairs is broken up by the occasional kiss.

The top floor is the penthouse of the building and, of course - of course -, he owns it. Another key, some fancy fingerprint scanner and they’re in. He pulls her by the hand into the sitting room, bright and airy with big windows that let in the mid-March sun, and drops the backpack he had been carrying onto the low coffee table.

“Why have you been sleeping in my tiny bed in the green zone if you have this whole apartment?” Selina asks as she throws her gloves on the table and shrugs out of her leather jacket, tossing it over one of the sofas. He gives her a small smile as he copies her actions.

“There’s no power here,” Bruce answers. She throws herself on the sofa and closes her eyes. Her hand is enveloped by his much warmer one and she opens one eye to peer at him. He’s sitting in front of her on the coffee table and she’s taken back in time for a few seconds to another sitting room in another Wayne property. “You’re not here.”

“You’re getting soft in your old age, kid,” Selina smiles and squeezes his hand. She closes her eyes again.

“Perhaps.” She can feel him shift as his arm pulls against her. The rucksack rustles and Bruce clears his throat.

“Selina,” he squeezes her hand again and she sits upright and opens her eyes. He has a can of peaches in his other hand and a soft smile on his lips. “Happy birthday.”

Her eyes dance between the can and his eyes a few times and she’s not sure what to say.

“I had Lucius do a little digging,” Bruce places the can on the table and grabs her other hand. “You were born in Gotham General Hospital at 7.48 am on March 13th.”

“March 13th, huh?” Selina’s brow furrows for a moment. “I guess it’s a good thing cats always land on their feet. You know anything else about me that I don’t?”

“You were just over eight pounds when you were born which I suppose is pretty big considering…” Bruce’s eyes are mischievous and he glances down at the thick heels of her boots. Her nails prick into the skin of his palms in warning and she pouts. “We got your social security number too, figured you probably never got your card.”

“Yeah, they don’t tend to send social security cards to people who don’t have addresses,” she tries to glare at him, but she can’t stop herself from smiling. “Billionaire brat.”

“A billionaire brat who may also have a bottle of wine or two stashed somewhere in this apartment,” Bruce brings her hands to his mouth and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Officially twenty.”

“Officially not a teenager,” Selina answers. Her teeth catch her bottom lip for a moment before she grins at him, a cheeky glint in her eyes. “Got myself a toy boy. Can you have a sugar daddy that’s younger than you?”

Bruce’s stare is unimpressed and Selina laughs loudly. She stands up, gripping his jaw and angling his face up towards her own as she leans over him. She kisses him, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth as she pulls away. She bends over and loosens her laces, avoiding his eyes. “Thanks. For this. All of it. When do we have to go back to the GCPD?”

“Tomorrow,” Bruce replies, holding her steady as she wriggles out of her boots. “There’s candles somewhere in the kitchen and plenty of blankets. I brought enough food - maybe not anything that’ll pair particularly well with the wine here.”

She smiles softly. “I’ll share my birthday peaches with you.”

[twoheartsoneclara]

Every year, Selina waits for Bruce to appear with a bottle of apple cider and the memories of years past.

Every year, Bruce goes to Selina with a bottle of apple cider in hand to see her smile.

[read on ao3]

When the wind came, Selina knew that it was Bruce.

“You found out where I lived?’ she asked the shadow that she knew was in the window.

Her mouth turned into a smile.  “Creep.”

He shut the window, which clicked shut a lot quieter than when it opened.

“What kind of a person would I be if I forgot tonight?” he answered rather than rising to her jibe.

She turned.  It’s not like she had plans other than reading a book she’d bought from the old bookshop down on 5th that she really liked, because the owner didn’t ask too many questions and stocked up on all the editions of poetry that Selina would never admit that she loved.

He set the bottles down on the table. It thudded with the weight of glass.

He opened the bottle, and nudged it toward her side of the table.

The light is low, and if Selina squinted, she could see the thirteen year old kid sitting across from her, except that time they’d gone up to the bridge hadn’t they?  And the moon had been full, perfect for a long Halloween night...

“This seems like a good way to die,” he’d muttered, as he’d stuck the bottle inside of his threadbare coat.

“Shut up, bat boy,” she’d said, because when she’d found a bat living in their little hideaway, she’d forced him to be the one to get rid of it.  “We’re not gonna die.”

“No, but I might drop the cider,” he said, and Selina had to fight against every instinct that she had to roll her eyes.  

“Stop worrying so much,” she said, and then they’d climbed the bridge up to the top.

Selina unzipped her own jacket when they got up to the top, and pulled out the threadbare blanket she’d stuffed inside, and spread it over her legs, and Bruce’s, because he was sitting next to her.

It just made sense to share body heat, when the wind tore through you and the moon was lovely but it wasn’t the sun in your hair, and when you wanted to feel not so lonely at night.

As Bruce struggled to open the bottle with numb fingers, she felt a warmth in her heart that didn’t have anything to do with the blanket.

As he succeeded, she waited for him to take a drink, only for him to freeze.

“We don’t have cups.”

“Duh.”

“But what if we get germs?”

The annoyance returned.  She stole the bottle from his grip.

“Bruce, if we’re gonna catch anything from each other, we would’ve already.”

The cider made its way down her throat, earthy and slightly warm, and it was perfect.  

She tilted her head back to look at the sky.  So many times she looked down at the ground, or across the horizon at the buildings from the city across the river.  

Then she looked at the boy sitting next to her and saw that he was already looking back.

“You told me that time,” Bruce said, and suddenly she was nineteen again and the moon was breaking in through the window, “that this was the best cider I’d ever have.  You were right.”

“Course I was right,” Selina said.  “I’m always right.”

Bruce smiled and looked down, but said nothing.

“Thanks,” she said, and she hoped that he knew it was for the cider.  For seeing her. For making the effort to find out where she lived. For sharing with her memories wrapped up in a shawl of cold autumn gusts and high rises.  

For being there.  For being here. For choosing her again and again.

For everything.

And when she saw his smile, she knew Bruce understood.