That’s the first thing you notice when the elevator opens onto the executive floor—how calm everything is. Polished stone. Filtered light. The quiet of a place designed to keep problems contained before they ever become visible.
You step out, coat buttoned, bag secure against your side.
Lucius Fox’s assistant greets you with a knowing smile.
“Conference B,” she says. “Mr. Drake will meet you there. Mr. Fox is finishing a call.”
Of course he is.
Conference B is all glass and restraint. A long table. Minimal decor. Gotham stretched beyond the windows, steel and shadow and money layered on top of itself. You set your bag down and pull out your tablet, skimming the briefing again even though you’ve already internalized it.
Wayne Foundation — Annual External Ethics & Governance Review.
High-visibility. Board-facing. Donor-adjacent.
The kind of review that doesn’t happen unless someone wants a second set of eyes—or a firewall.
Lucius’s message still sits at the top of your inbox:
I need someone who understands the politics as well as the paperwork.
That’s why you’re here.
The door opens behind you.
You turn as footsteps pause just inside the room.
“Ms. —”
Tim Drake stops himself, eyes flicking briefly to your tablet, then back to your face. He studies you for a moment longer than strictly polite—not in appraisal, but in recognition trying to find a place to land.
He repeats your last name slowly, like he’s testing the sound of it.
Then he snaps his fingers, soft and sudden.
“Wait,” he says. “I recognize you. Your family runs in the same circles as mine.”
You don’t correct him. You don’t confirm it either.
“You haven’t been at the events in a while,” he adds, more observation than question.
“That’s intentional,” you reply.
Something shifts in his expression—not judgment. Understanding.
“I’m Tim,” he says, offering his hand. “Thank you for coming in.”
You shake it. His grip is steady, warm. Grounded.
“You asked nicely,” you say. “That still works on me.”
The corner of his mouth twitches.
They sit across from each other, the city watching silently through glass.
“I want to be clear about why we brought you in,” Tim says as he opens the folder in front of him. “This isn’t a reaction. It’s preventative.”
You nod. “Annual reviews are when small issues get loud if you ignore them.”
His gaze sharpens. “Exactly.”
You scroll through the materials. “You have a handful of major donors who sit on overlapping nonprofit boards. Nothing illegal. But the optics could become… complicated. Especially this close to the holidays.”
Tim leans back, exhaling through his nose. “And narratives don’t wait for facts.”
“No,” you agree. “They just need a foothold.”
That earns you his full attention.
For the next hour, the room narrows to charts and quiet strategy. You flag pressure points. He counters with operational realities. You adjust without ego. He listens without defensiveness.
At some point, you realize you’ve stopped translating your thoughts into executive-friendly language.
You’re just speaking.
And Tim Drake is just listening.
Not multitasking. Not asserting control. Fully present in a way that feels rare at this altitude.
You tap your tablet closed.
“This holds,” you say. “If you’re willing to be uncomfortable in the short term.”
“I am,” he replies without hesitation.
You study him for half a second longer than necessary.
Lucius enters then, smile easy, eyes sharp.
“I see I didn’t need to sit in,” he says. “You’ve already found your rhythm.”
“She’s thorough,” Tim says.
Lucius hums. “That’s one word for it.”
When Lucius leaves you to wrap up, the room settles into something quieter.
“Can I ask you something?” Tim says. “Off the record.”
You tilt your head. “Careful.”
“Why step away from all that?” he asks—not unkindly. “Your family. The circuit. The comfort.”
You glance out at Gotham. The city looks like it always does—brilliant and bruised.
“Because I didn’t want my life to be a series of rooms I was allowed into but never heard in,” you say. “This work lets me matter without being ornamental.”
Tim’s gaze doesn’t waver.
“And Wayne Enterprises?”
You smile faintly. “Is complicated.”
That gets a quiet laugh from him—soft, genuine.
“I’ll expect your report by morning,” he says.
“You’ll have it.”
He says your first name when he thanks you.
Not formally.
Like it steadies him.
A small smile tugs at your mouth.
“Enjoy the holiday weekend, Mr. Drake”. The professional address sets a work boundary that for some reason leaves the room charged.
The elevator doors close behind you, and the shift settles in—not dramatic, not romantic. Just the awareness of two people who understand pressure in the same way.
Thanksgiving is days away.
The holidays are coming.
And Gotham has a habit of turning proximity into necessity.
Warnings: bits of the angst, but lots of fluff there at the end.
A/N: Welcome to day 14! We are counting down the day! I hope you all have a great weekend! Header by me and divider by @cafekitsune
Masterlist
The halls were quiet, too quiet. It was almost Christmas, and you were alone in Wayne Manor.
The kids were all grown, and gone. Building lives on their own, creating their own identities outside of Bruce Wayne and the Batman. Well, all of them except maybe Damian. But he was well on his way to becoming a man, getting taller and taller each day as he looked more like his father complimented by his mother's features.
Bruce was across the world, and took Damian with him. Alfred had gone back to London to visit family, leaving you the sole inhabitant of the extensive manor.
There were times you didn't mind being alone, but you could feel it. The lingering cold that came with loneliness. In all your years with Bruce, there were only ever a few times you were truly alone.
But each time, he was never gone this long. It had been almost a week, and you missed him so much you had to convince yourself not to beg him to come home. The world needed him, the Justice League needed him-- but so did you.
No matter what you did, it couldn't chase away that feeling. Not even listening to Christmas music was working. Every time you played some, Blue Christmas and other about being with loved ones for the holiday played and it only made your mood worse.
At this point, it really was going to be a blue Christmas.
You were sitting on the couch, by the fire trying to find some comfort when your phone began to ring. Your heart lightened seeing Bruce's name appear on screen.
Picking it up, you saw he was requesting a video chat.
Answering the phone, you put on a smile seeing the love of your life looking back at you. He was still wearing the suit, but his cowl was off and his hair hung in his face as he smiled back.
"Hey, sweetheart."
"Hey yourself."
Bruce's face softened just a bit, only for it to grow concerned.
"What's wrong?"
"Why would anything be wrong?" You shrugged, ignoring the nagging feeling.
Bruce let out a sigh and cocked his head to the side, as Damian poked his head into view.
"Do I need to make my presence known to anyone in Gotham who dares to cause issues?"
You laughed, Damian's comment filling your heart. Even when they weren't near you knew they still loved you.
"No Dami, I promise everything's okay. Just missing my boys, I guess. This manor is too big for just one person."
"Well, surely Alfred is there too--"
You cut Bruce off. "He already left to visit his mother, he wont be back until the twenty-second."
The silence on the other end of the phone made you a little nervous.
"So, you mean you're all alone in Wayne Manor?"
If you hadn't known Bruce for so long, his question would have seemed normal. You could already see him beating himself up because he's left you alone for so long.
"Bruce, I promise I'm fine. I have the fire going, and I was about to start a new book."
You had to keep in the giggles watching Damian and Bruce both hum the same way. When the two of them hummed like this, you knew they were thinking.
"Boys, don't do anything drastic."
Damian's expression morphed into one you knew all too well. He was already up to something. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
You let out a sigh. Before anyone could answer, you were interrupted by a loud beeping behind them.
"You have to go."
Bruce gave you a sad nod. "I'm sorry, my love."
You shrugged, "It's alright, Bruce. It'll just be more stories to tell me when you get home."
The three of you promptly said your goodbyes and hung up. You were once again, alone. Grabbing that book you said you were going to start, you opened to the first page.
You were barely through the second chapter when a body plopped itself next to you on the couch and the other sat on the ground by your feet.
If you didn't see the flash of blue followed by red, you would've grabbed the fire poker and done some damage. But you knew who it was.
Glancing out the corner of your eye, you watched as Dick made himself comfortable curled into your side with his head on your lap like he did when he was a kid.
Jason was at your feet, reading a book of his own mirroring the days when he too was young and so full of joy.
"So, how long ago did he call you."
"Right after he got off the phone with you. Tim is picking up Cass and Duke before they make their way over."
You sighed. "I knew he was going to do something like this, I told him I was fine."
Jason tilted his head up at you. "Don't you tell us frequently that it's okay to not be fine?"
"I've also told you not to use my own advice against me."
Dick chuckled, leaning into your touch as you gently played with his hair. "It's not our fault you helped raise two very intelligent people,"
Within the hour, you were suddenly surrounded by your kids. The ones you helped raise, and mold into the people they were today. You were maneuvered into the middle of the couch because every single one of them demanded they get their special thing with you.
So, of course it ended with you basically dog piled by three grown adults and two at your feet. Naturally there was a lot of bickering, because none of them were as small as they used to be.
But you weren't going to complain. You had your family, and you knew soon enough Bruce and Damian would be home to take their places next to you among everyone else.
AN: The Law and Order SVU and Batman crossover no one, absolutely no one asked for, but I still wrote. Cause I can ;)
Warnings: Mentions of serial killers. Nothing graphic.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader
For being some of the smartest, most intelligent, detectives in the world, the superheros in your life are fairly oblivious. And on some level you’re really thankful for that. It allows you the freedom to do your job without their henpecking.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, the people you work with, your second family, are some of the kindest, most intelligent, and hardworking detectives you’ve ever met, but they’re also oblivious to the fact that you’re married to a billionaire.
You had never really meant to keep the worlds separate. It had started off innocent enough, you’d joined NYPD as a beat cop while Bruce was out studying to become the Bat. And when he got home you’d spent every spare minute helping him. Between that and the company he’d been too exhausted to ask anything other than a few questions about your job. He knew you worked for a large organization in NYC and that was it. He trusted you. And the boys were just as oblivious as their father. The only person who knew was Alfred. He’d been the once to come to your graduation from the academy while Bruce was still away.
On the flip side, your SVU family knew very little about your home life. They knew you were married, they knew you had kids, but they didn’t know how many. After all, you’d only had the two pregnancies; Terry and Matt had both been big but welcome surprises. Then again ALL of your boys were surprises. And you had perfected your technique of avoiding the paparazzi for both SVU and Gotham High Society.
Honestly, in your mind, there was no reason at all for your two worlds to meld. When you were at home, you took care of your family; when you were at work you tried really hard not to think of them, because despite crime fighting, you didn’t want them anywhere near these types of crimes.
Of course, nothing lasts forever, but you figure twenty years is a good run, especially when Bruce is driving Dick away for his desire to be a cop. You watch them go back and forth for hours, before you finally step in. There are groans from the other boys about stopping the fight while Cass just grins, and you ignore all of them.
“You’re going to stop this right now Bruce Wayne.”
His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, “You don’t understand Y/N.”
Out of the corner of your eye you watch Alfred roll his eyes in exasperation, “I understand better than anyone here.”
His hands go to his hips, and you know he’s about to dig a very deep hole for himself, “Sweetheart, I love you, and I know you work the computers from time to time, but this is different. There are guns involved and he’d have to work inside the system.”
“So?”
“You can’t do both; there’s too much to hide.”
You smile sweetly at him, “I don’t know, I’ve been doing both for the past twenty years. Then again, I suppose it might be different for me since I just worked the computers for a while.”
He blinks at you, and you know he’s connecting the dots. You ignore him, and turn to your oldest, his eyes wide, “While I understand you wanting to do Bludhaven, if you want to do NYPD, we can drive into the city together. Let me know, I have more than a few favors I can call in.”
Tim is the first to voice the statement, “You’re a cop?”
You shrug, “First grade detective, but I’m taking the sergeants exam in a few weeks.”
Jason stares at you, “Seriously? Are you joking right now?”
“I joined when I was twenty. I’d finished college early thanks to AP classes, went in as a beat cop, and after five years I became a detective. I’ve been working at SVU for the past fifteen years. They’re like my family away from home.”
You can tell there are more questions, but no one seems brave enough to ask them. You start to head out of the room, when Bruce asks, “Why did you hide it?”
You pause and turn to him, “I didn’t. You just never asked.”
As you leave you hear Alfred ask, “Would you like a shovel for the hole you’re digging sir, or should I just make up the couch for you?”
You go wait in your room, and lie down on the bed. A few minutes later Bruce comes in, and you look at each other. His brow is furrowed, eventually he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?”
You smile at him, “I didn’t want you to know Bruce. I was on my own path, and I knew you would worry. At the start I told myself I would tell you eventually, but. . . you were so involved with Batman and you were doing so much good . . . I didn’t want to add to your stress. You were barely sleeping three hours a night at that point.
“Then we Dick, and I considered telling you but he needed us to focus on him, and after a while it became easier to excuse it. It became my secret identity. Are you mad?”
He lets out a laugh, “I dress up as a bat, and fight crime as a vigilante. I don’t think I can be mad. I think I’m worried.”
“About?”
“Us drifting apart, not knowing you?”
You shrug, “I’m me Bruce. I just also happen to be a cop. I see a lot of bad stuff, everyday. The last thing I want when I come home is to talk about it. Same as you guys. When I’m home I want to be happy, but if you want to know I’ll tell you on one condition.”
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, after a moment he asks, “What’s the condition?”
“You can’t involve Batman. NYPD is not Gotham PD.”
He nods after a minute. The two of you spend the night talking, you tell him about some close calls, you tell him about the one life you’d been forced to take, you tell him about your frustration. You tell him about Liv and Elliot, and how Elliot leaving crushed Liv, but she rose from the ashes to become a lieutenant. You tell him about Munch and Cragen, both of whom have retired. You tell him about Finn, Rollins, Amaro, Carisi, Dodds and Barba. It’s nearly six in the morning by the time you’re finished.
“And that’s the majority of it.”
You’re both lying on the bed staring at each other. Bruce has been largely silent, he’d skipped patrol, and only asked a few questions. A part of you wonders when his anger will hit; it doesn’t. Instead he says, “I am so freaking proud of you,” and then he kisses you. And you can’t help but think, that in a normal marriage, a normal family, this would have been a big deal, it would have broken them. In your family though? It’s another day.
You call out of work that day to catch up on sleep and spend the day with your family. The boys come up with a bunch of reasons as to why they should have realized you were a cop.
“You work really weird hours.”
“You never wore heels to work.”
“You never wore dresses either, come to think of it?”
“Is this why we own a penthouse in NYC?”
Jason is the one who asks, “Where do you keep your gun? I thought those weren’t allowed in the house?”
“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s locked up.” Logically, you know each of your boys knows how to use a gun, mainly for the purpose of knowing how to disarm someone holding a gun. You still don’t want them anywhere near it. For that reason, it’s kept in a DNA safe in Alfred’s room.
When you go back to work the next day, you have your gun and badge on your hip. All of the men in your life focus on it. Bruce corners you in the kitchen as you’re pouring coffee into a travel mug and whispers, “You look sexy as hell with the badge.”
You laugh, and then you kiss him. You’re the one who drops Cass, Tim, Damian, Terry, and Matt off at school. Jason is in college, and he drives himself. Dick is still contemplating his options.
The fact that your family knows makes things a lot easier a few weeks later when Carl Rudnick and Greggory Yates escape from prison. You can hear the worry in Bruce’s voice, when he begs you to be safe and not do anything risky. You snort at that and he chuckles, “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m your hypocrite.” You roll your eyes, because the big doofus, is in fact, yours. You also know he’s keeping a close watch on the man hunt.
Three days later Rudnick is back in custody, but Yates is still on the run, back to Chicago you’re pretty sure. You’ve gotten maybe five hours of sleep total in those days? You’re exhausted, but you have reports to fill out, and Chief Dodds, the commissioner and a whole bunch of brass are hanging around.
You’re in hour three of doing paperwork, when you hear whispers. Your eyes flicker up to find your husband smiling at you from across the room. He’s holding a doggy bag full of food, he’s dressed in a suit that costs thousands of dollars, and you know that people recognize him.
Finn leans forward, “What the hell is Bruce Wayne doing here?”
You hear Carisi whisper, “Maybe he’s dating Leiu?”
You can’t help it, you burst out laughing, because you sometimes forget it’s not common knowledge that Bruce is married, despite the ring on his finger. You avoid galas with the best of them after all. You call it the Batman tax; Bruce can fight crime and you don’t have to show up to stuffy dinner parties.
Bruce smiles at the laughter, before approaching your desk, he settles into the chair next to your desk. “Really? No pictures of me or the kids?”
You scoff, “Work stays at work, home stays at home.”
He frowns, “I’m getting you pictures.”
You don’t argue with him, “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you food. Alfred and I figured you hadn’t eaten.”
“I haven’t had anything outside of vending machine junk in days.”
He scoffs, “What happened to taking care of ourselves?”
You shrug, “I’ve been hunting serial killers.”
His face goes serious, “But you’re okay?”
“As okay as I can be. They got a few more people, our sergeant took a bullet to the shoulder, Rudnick is back in prison, but Yates is headed only God knows where.”
His fingers twitch, and you know he’s itching to do something, but he can’t. He can’t get involved in this too. He has all of Gotham to worry about and thanks to the league, sometimes he has to worry about the world.
He lets out a breath, “Can I join you while you eat?”
“Yes. You can catch me up on the goings at home.” You lead him past your shocked colleagues, and a room full of shocked officials in Liv’s office and to the breakroom. While you eat, Bruce assures you that the boys are fine, but Damian apparently butchered the hedges again. Clark was apparently being a pain in his ass too. The man of steel wanted your family to come to Kansas for Thanksgiving.
“I’ll probably have to work, use that as an excuse.”
Bruce grins, “This job has perks.”
You lean forward and peck his lips, “Lots of them.”
When you’re finished you stand up to leave and there is a room watching the two of you. You sigh, and Bruce mutters, “It’s good to know the vultures remain consistent.”
Chief Dodds is about to step forward and ask a question when you step towards Olivia, “Bruce this Liv. She’s saved my ass more than once over the years. Liv, this is my husband Bruce, remember I talked about him?”
She grins, “Yes, but you failed to mention he was Bruce Wayne.”
You feign nonchalance, “Did I? Hmmm.”
Bruce smiles, it’s the one that has everyone jumping to meet his every need, the one that says he’s as innocent as a choir boy, and he would be your best friend if you let him. You smirk at him while he shakes Liv’s hand, “Thanks for watching her back. The boys and I appreciate it.”
That’s when Finn steps forward, “That right, you guys have a huge family, right?”
Bruce’s brow furrows in fake concentration, “We have Dick who is twenty, Jason is eighteen, Cass is Fifteen, Tim is fourteen, Damian is ten, Terry is six, and Matt is four.” He looks at you, “How’d I do?”
“Perfect score.”
“We have a full house, but it’s nice.”
You nod, “Let me walk you out.”
You make sure Bruce gets to his car, you kiss him, and promise you’ll be home by morning. Once he’s gone you head back up to find everyone waiting on you, it’s Finn who declares, “You have some explaining to do.”
You sigh, life was easier when no one knew anything.
disclaimer: i haven't written in like...a year. and i barely proof read this. so apologies if it's absolute shit.
warning: a lot of dark themes, death, familial drama, overall depressing stuff
“What the hell is going on?” Y/N asked Dick as Alfred helped her take off her coat.
Jason was close behind her.
When Dick called Y/N in the middle of the night, he knew something terrible had happened. And he wasn’t about to let her go to the manor by herself.
“I’m sorry,” Dick immediately blurted out. “I didn’t have time to explain over the phone.”
Y/N swallowed. “What happened to him?”
‘Him’ being Bruce.
“He was hallucinating or something,” Dick explained quickly. “And he won’t snap out of it. But he kept saying your name over and over again.”
“So what the fuck can she do about it?” Jason snapped at him.
But Y/N gripped his arm, silently telling her boyfriend to calm down.
Dick also glared at him. “He kept saying he was sorry. I thought maybe if he saw you – saw that you were OK – then maybe he’d calm down.”
“Take me to him?” Y/N asked Dick carefully.
He nodded. “Follow me.”
Together, the three of them swiftly walked to Bruce’s bedroom. And Y/N suddenly realized she’d never been in there before. It always felt off limits. Bruce was such a private person, she figured she shouldn’t invade such a personal and intimate space.
It was cozier than Y/N expected. But that was probably Alfred’s doing. The man stressed about his master getting enough sleep that he had no choice but to design a bedroom that constantly tempted Bruce with comfort and rest.
Now Y/N stared at the sickly man that laid in bed and it felt like different person than the Bruce Wayne she had become so close with.
His face was pale and sweaty. His eyes were bloodshot. His hair was matted down from perspiration that wouldn’t stop gathering on his face.
Y/N took a small step toward her father and whispered, “Bruce?”
The sound of her calling his name seemed to snap him out of whatever daze he had just been in.
Bruce slowly sat up and looked at Y/N as if he didn’t fully believe he was seeing clearly.
“Y/N?” His voice shook.
“You said he couldn’t snap out of it,” Jason muttered quietly to Dick.
“He-He wasn’t. This is the most lucid he’s been.”
Y/N slowly stepped closer to the bed. “Bruce, can you tell me what happened to you?”
Jason’s instincts were going haywire. He blinked himself awake and quickly walked forward, holding out his arm to stop Y/N from going any further.
When Y/N glared up at him, Jason just said, “I don’t trust him when he doesn’t seem like himself. Better safe than sorry. Don’t get any closer.”
She knew Jason had a point, but that didn’t mean she liked it.
So, she turned her attention back to her father. “Bruce,” she called to him softly. “What happened? What can we do to help?”
But Bruce zoned out, trying to dig into his mind to properly answer the question.
“Was it a curse?” Dick asked.
Bruce snapped out of it when he heard the word ‘curse,’ and locked eyes with Dick.
“It was a sorcerer. Not a curse. Something else.”
“It looks like you had some sort of fever dream – but dialed up to a thousand,” Jason observed aloud.
“Not a fever dream,” Bruce corrected. “A vision.”
“Vision?” Dick and Y/N said in unison.
Bruce nodded as he stared into Y/N’s gaze. “If you and I had met sooner.”
Y/N’s brow wrinkled. “How much sooner?”
“As a child,” Bruce confirmed.
———
Bruce was pacing around the foyer.
Alfred watched from the doorway with his hands folded properly in front of him. “This is not the first time you have taken in a child, Master Wayne.”
Bruce stopped long enough to say, “This is…different.”
“Because she is your child?” Alfred challenged.
“Because she is my daughter,” Bruce snapped back. “A daughter that was kept a secret from me for 10 years.”
“Yes,” Alfred hummed. “But I think we both understand that it was probably best.”
“Not anymore,” Bruce argued. “Not when she’s being sent to live with a father she’s never known. And after her mother and grandparents were killed in a car crash that she miraculously survived.”
Before Alfred could respond, Bruce saw the cop car pull up.
“They’re here,” he muttered and then going to the main entrance before they could ring the doorbell.
Bruce walked onto the gravel of the front drive as the car pulled to a stop.
Detective Gordon stepped out of driver’s seat. Such an errand was below his payroll, but it appeared the man was good with kids – especially ones who’d gone through trauma.
“Mr. Wayne,” he greeted.
“Gordon,” Bruce nodded back. He suspected the man knew who he was in his other life, but it seemed neither of them would ever acknowledge it.
“Where is she?” Bruce asked when he saw no one else in Gordon’s car.
“Right,” Gordon nodded as if he was expecting the question. “I wanted to speak with you about that. She…uhh…isn’t speaking with anyone.”
Bruce frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She’s on her way with the social worker,” Gordon clarified. “But she hasn’t spoken a word to anyone – not doctors, paramedics, cops, nurses. No one.”
Bruce nodded, somehow understanding. “Right.”
“Docs say it’s selective mutism. Very common in children who have been through traumatic experiences.”
Bruce nodded again. But then his eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, Gordon?”
“Just making sure you’re up for this.”
“I’m her father.”
Gordon huffed. “That you are. But when a mother keeps her daughter a secret from her own father for 10 years, you can’t help but be concerned about why.”
Now Bruce was irritated. “And what about the two boys I’ve fostered and adopted? Does that count for nothing?”
“You and I both know this situation is different, Mr. Wayne.”
“Is it?” Bruce was so offended, that he saw himself contradicting the conversation he’d had with Alfred just moments ago. He was allowed to question himself as a father, but no one else was allowed to – apparently.
Suddenly another car pulled up.
“That’ll be Y/N with the social worker,” Gordon sighed.
He didn’t know what he expected to come from challenging Bruce Wayne. The man clearly had a soft spot for kids. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken in two boys. But much of Gotham found it a little strange for a billionaire playboy in his 20s to adopt not one, but two young boys.
Bruce’s heart raced when he saw Y/N step out of the car, gently guided by the social worker.
As soon as she saw Bruce, her entire body tensed. She stopped walking forward as soon as she reached Gordon and stepped into his side for protection.
Bruce slowly kneeled, hoping that getting on her level would make him less intimidating and more welcoming. “Hello, Y/N. I am so sorry for what happened to you. But we are happy and relieved to have you here.”
Y/N eyed him cautiously. She knew better than to trust a stranger.
But she then looked up at Gordon, waiting for his OK to do so.
Gordon kneeled too, and gently gripped her shoulders. “You are going to be OK here.” Then his hand went into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card. “If anything happens or you just don’t feel safe here, you call me. OK, kiddo?”
Y/N nodded and hugged the card to her chest like a lifeline.
Then she continued forward, but walked right past Bruce without even so much as looking at him.
Bruce sighed.
And turned to find Alfred greeting her politely. “Hello, little miss. How about I show you to your room and you can get settled?”
Bruce should’ve expected this. After all, Dick wasn’t all that different when he first arrived to Wayne Manor. Not to mention Bruce could probably understand what Y/N was going through more than anyone else.
“All her things are in the trunk,” the social worker told Bruce.
“That’s it?” Bruce questioned when there were only a few boxes and two suitcases.
The social worker nodded and shrugged. “It was a small apartment.”
–––––––
“Is she here?! Is she here!?” Jason was jumping up and down when he burst into the manor after school.
Bruce sighed and shushed the boy with, “Calm down, Jaylad.”
Jason had been ecstatic at the prospect of another kid his age being at the manor – especially one that wasn’t raised rich like him.
“Where is she?” Jason asked as his eyes raced around the room, like he expected the girl to be glued to Bruce’s side.
Bruce kneeled down. “Jason, I think we’re going to have to give her some time. She’s not really…speaking with anyone.”
Jason frowned at the idea.
But then the boy’s eyes brightened at an idea. “Well…maybe she’s just scared! Maybe if I show her around and make sure she knows she’s safe here. Then-Then she’ll like it here.” He looked at Alfred for confirmation that it was a good idea, who gave him a patient but warm grin. “I was scared when I first got here, too. Remember?”
Bruce’s heart warmed and he nodded.
Jason was such a sweet boy.
Bruce took in a deep breath. “She went through something very traumatic, Jason. She wants her mom and she can’t have her. This is all very overwhelming for her, during a time that’s already scary. We just need to be patient and careful. OK?”
Jason seemed deflated, but nodded at Bruce before hanging his head a bit.
Alfred cleared his throat, “Master Jason, I could use some help with dinner. Do you think you have the time in your very busy schedule?”
That man knew exactly how to get the boy out of a funk.
–––––
Jason did as he was told and left Y/N alone. The manor was big enough that he hadn’t even seen her yet. But Bruce made him promise he wouldn’t go hunting for the girl, which Jason begrudgingly agreed to.
But a few days after Y/N’s arrival, Jason was sneaking around in the pantry, getting a snack. And as he tried to make his escape before being detected, he saw that the doors to one of the ballrooms was open.
‘Huh. That’s funny. Alfred usually doesn’t need to clean in there,’ he thought.
When he tiptoed to the opening, he was surprised by what he found.
Instead of seeing Alfred or a short-term maid cleaning out the ballroom for an upcoming event, Jason saw a girl.
She was laying in the dead center of the room, not her back. She was wearing a hoodie, which made her look even more out of place with the extravagant wood and ostentatious of the room. She had headphones in and a discern on the ground below her.
Clearly, she was listening to music as she stared up at the tall ceiling. It was hand-painted, like the ballroom was the Sistine Chapel.
Jason just watched her for a few minutes.
She didn’t move, didn’t bounce her knee or foot, or hum to the music. She just listened to the music and stared at the ceiling.
“H-Hi,” Jason finally found the courage to say.
It was quiet and he hadn’t even expected for her to hear him.
But as soon as he broke the silence, she shot up to her feet and turned to face him, looking like a terrified and cornered animal.
Jason held up his hands out of reflex alone. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok!” He blurted out.
But her eyes just widened even more as she ripped the headphones off her hears so they were sitting on her shoulders.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Jason continued. “I just…wanted to say…ummm…hi, I guess.”
Y/N just stared at him.
She looked less scared now, but clearly uninterested in speaking with him.
“Still not talking, huh?” Jason sighed.
“Master Jason,” Alfred appeared around the corner. But he stopped whatever he was about to say when he saw the two children facing each other. Though Y/N was standing 15 yards away from them, in the middle of the ballroom.
“Why hello, little miss. Are you getting hungry?”
Y/N quickly shook her head.
“Are you sure?” Alfred asked, clearly worried about the child’s lack of appetite. “I just pulled some chocolate croissants out of the oven.”
Jason’s eyes lit up and looked back at her. “Oh, you have to try some. They’re amazing!”
But Y/N just looked at Jason weirdly before shaking her head at Alfred again.
Alfred sighed in disappointment. “Very well. You let me know when you are hungry, Ms. Y/N.” Then he turned his attention to Jason. “Come, Master Jason. Let us leave her alone.”
Once the both of them were out of sight, Y/N went back to her original position: laying in the middle of the ballroom, headphones on, and staring up at the ceiling.
“Why won’t she eat?” Jason asked quietly.
When he was on the streets, he was always hungry. Most of his energy was put into figuring out how to get his next meal. It was strange to see a kid deny food.
“I believe the manor is very overwhelming for her, Master Jason. And we are but strangers to her.” He patted Jason on the back. “But do not fret, I have been bringing trays up to her bedroom – and she’s been eating them thankfully. I do not think she feels comfortable eating with us quite yet.”
They arrived to find Bruce in the kitchen.
“I saw her!” Jason excitedly told him.
Bruce gave Alfred a worried look.
“She is in the ballroom, laying on the floor,” Alfred confirmed.
“Listening to music,” Jason added.
Bruce just nodded and looked at Alfred again. “I’ve been talking to Dr. Thompkins about making an appointment for her…”
“No!” Jason blurted out without meaning to.
“No?” Bruce questioned with a frown.
“I mean,” Jason looked at the two grownups nervously. “If you take her to a therapist, she’ll think we think there’s something wrong with her.”
Bruce sighed. “Well, there is something wrong. She’s grieving and she refuses to speak, Jason. We’re out of our depth here.”
“Just…wait a little bit. Please?” Jason looked up at Bruce with his big, innocent, blue eyes.
Bruce shared another look with Alfred.
“Alright, Jaylad. We’ll wait a bit longer,” Bruce sighed as he ruffled Jason’s hair.
————
Jason’s senses were good even before he became Robin. Living on the streets meant that he always had to be on high alert.
So when he was reading in the library at the manor, he felt someone watching him.
“You can come out, you know You don’t have to hide,” Jason quietly called out without taking his eyes off of his book.
A few seconds later, his gaze raised to see Y/N sneaking out from behind a shelf, hugging a book as if it was a lifeline.
Jason squinted as he tried to read the title. It was one of the Harry Potter books.
“Wanna read with me?” He asked gently.
Then he quickly added, “We don’t have to talk or anything! Just sit together and read our own books.”
Y/N watched him for a few minutes.
Jason went back to his reading, but all his senses were on her. He didn’t want to feel like he was pressuring her. So he went back to what he was doing and hoped he made it clear that he wasn’t forcing her to do anything.
Eventually, he heard the shy steps against the carpet as Y/N walked over and then grabbed the love seat that was across from him.
Just as promised, they didn’t speak. The two of them just read their books.
After a couple hours, Jason thought it was safe to talk.
“Just so you know…Bruce is a good guy. I know he can be kinda scary. But he would never do anything bad to you.”
Y/N’s body tensed as soon as Jason broke the silence.
“He doesn’t hurt kids.”
Her eyes finally snapped to Jason’s.
She couldn’t help but notice his unintentional emphasis on the word ‘kids’.
Jason sighed. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But we can still play together, right?”
Y/N looked at him for a few seconds before she finally nodded.
Starting then, Bruce or Alfred would frequently find the two kids sitting in the library, silently reading their own books, but sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Then it moved onto playing hide and seek on the great lawn. Or the two of them racing bikes just outside the gates of the manor.
Bruce and Alfred were happy to see Y/N having fun and being more comfortable with them. But Y/N still didn’t talk.
And she didn’t seem to like being alone in a room with Bruce. She ignored him most of the time. But she would avoid a room if only he was in it.
Bruce’s guess was that she didn’t trust a man that her mother tried so hard to keep a secret. Surely there was a reason, and Bruce could only assume that Y/N believed it to be bad.
————
Y/N still stayed silent. But it seemed she formed an unspoken language with Jason.
And therefore Jason sometimes felt the need to act as her translator.
“Alfred, Y/N’s not feeling well today. I don’t think she should go to school.”
“Y/N doesn’t like peas, Bruce. Don’t give her so many.”
“Y/N isn’t a fan of scary movies. We shouldn’t watch them for family movie night.”
Bruce was glad Jason had formed a bond with his daughter. Most days, Bruce was convinced that he would never have any sort of breakthrough with Y/N.
However, things seemed to have changed on one fateful day.
Y/N and Jason were sword fighting with sticks in the forest on the manor grounds when Jason tripped backwards. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if that was it. But the boy just so happened to fall on top of something that broke with his weight.
Y/N rushed forward to see that Jason had fallen into some sort of sink hole. It couldn’t have been less than six feet deep – far too much height for Jason to get out of on his own.
Not that he could, though.
When Y/N looked down, Jason was either unconscious or dead.
“JASON!” Y/N shrieked, but the boy didn’t move.
Next thing Y/N knew, she was sprinting as fast as she could back to the manor.
“Bruce! Bruce! Alfred!” Her screaming echoed.
Bruce came running from his office. His eyes were wide with distress at both hearing his daughter’s voice for the first time, and hearing the obvious fear and panic in it.
He found Y/N sobbing in the entryway.
“Y/N? What is it? What’s going on?”
“J-Jason f-fell,” she struggled to say through her crying. “But-But he won’t wake up!”
Bruce kneeled and gently gripped Y/N’s shoulders. “Y/N, I need you to show me exactly where he is. Alright?”
Y/N nodded.
Alfred suddenly joined them.
Bruce turned to him. “Alfred, call an ambulance.”
Y/N grabbed Bruce’s hand and dragged him out the door. “Hurry. We can’t leave him!”
Bruce let his daughter drag him through the woods on the property.
She stopped and held up a shaky finger as she pointed down at the hole that Bruce couldn’t see into yet.
He carefully stepped forward to see Jason lay at the bottom with his eyes closed.
“Please help him, Bruce.”
He nodded and rolled up his sleeves before climbed down. “Y/N, please go stand by that tree. Wait there.”
Y/N rushed to do what he said, thinking that it would get Bruce to Jason faster.
The hole was wide and deep enough to make it impossible for Jason to get out on his own, but not for a grown man – and definitely not for Batman.
It only took a few minutes for Bruce to emerge from the hole with Jason in his arms.
Y/N took half a step towards them, but then stopped.
“Is he…Is he…?” Her voice was trembling as she failed to ask her question.
“He just unconscious,” Bruce assured her. “I think he may have broken his collarbone. But he’ll be alright, Y/N.”
Y/N looked at Bruce as if she didn’t believe him.
Bruce stepped closer to his daughter. “Y/N, I promise he’s OK.”
She finally nodded.
After Jason got back from the hospital in a cast, Bruce found that Y/N had snuck into Jason’s bed with him that night.
———
Bruce was hopeful that the incident would completely break Y/N of her mutism. But it seemed she still had no desire to speak to most people. She would sometimes say a couple of words to them at a time. But it was far from an actual conversation.
However, Bruce still saw that as somewhat of a success.
For the first time since Y/N had arrived, there finally seemed to be some sort of an improvement.
He saw Y/N smile and laugh.
Jason was clearly her favorite, but she didn’t seem to mind Dick when he graced them with his presence.
Y/N had been living with them for over two years when Alfred finally broached the subject that Bruce knew was inevitable.
Alfred was patching him up after a rough night. They were in the pain, surrounded by bloody gauze. Meanwhile, Y/N was peacefully asleep a few floors above them. And Jason was in the kitchen, getting a snack after joining Bruce on patrol.
“When do you plan on telling her, Master Wayne?”
Bruce played dumb. “Tell who what?”
Alfred tugged a stitch too roughly – clearly doing it on purpose. But he didn’t clarify, knowing Bruce was fully aware of what he was asking about.
“I can’t,” Bruce finally sighed.
“And why is that? Master Jason and Richard are well aware.”
“You know it’s different with her.”
“I’m not sure it is, Master Bruce.”
He frowned. “She’s already scared of me. And I hate it. How do you think she’ll see her father if she finds out he’s Batman?”
“She will just simply need more time to adjust,” Alfred suggested as he snipped the thread, finishing his final round of stitches. “And perhaps it’s the wall you’ve put between you two that makes her so weary.”
Bruce hadn’t thought of it that way.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally answered.
And Alfred knew that was as good as he was going to get for tonight.
———
But any plans of Bruce considering telling Y/N the family secret were lost.
Because they were too busy handling the death of Jason.
And Bruce had to lie to Y/N about how it all happened.
“Why couldn’t I go on the vacation with you two?” Y/N had nearly snarled.
Bruce figured she was convinced that if she had been there, she could’ve saved Jason.
When Jason had gone racing after his mother, Bruce had to race after him, too. He and Alfred thought it was best to come up with a lie. They’d never had to deal with Jason going rouge like that before.
“I promised him it would just be the two of us,” Bruce lied.
“I hate you,” Y/N finally hissed. “I’ve always hated you.”
Bruce leaned back, not expecting such an outburst.
This was the most Y/N had ever said to him since knowing each other.
“Y/N,” he sighed, not knowing what else to say to comfort her in this moment.
“I HATE YOU!” Y/N screamed it now.
And she had never raised her voice. It was all the opposite now.
Y/N looked at the fine china Alfred at placed near them before the conversation started. A tea pot, milk, sugar, and two tea cups. None of it had been touched by either of them.
“I hate this house!” She picked up one of the tea cups and chucked it at the wall behind Bruce, watching the china shatter.
Next she took the rest of the tray and tipped it so the rest of it shattered to the hardwood floor. The teapot shattered, washing dark tea cross the ground.
“Did you hear me!?” She yelled at him. “I. Hate. You.”
Bruce just stood and watched the tantrum. He refused to reprimand her. How could he?
“I hate you!” Y/N yelled again, clearly waiting for him to show some sort of response.
The she tried to shove him, but her tiny body was nothing against Bruce’s tall and muscular frame.
But she tried again.
When he still didn’t budge, she started pounding her fists against his torso. Tears started falling down her face in rivers.
“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”
Bruce finally snapped out of it, suddenly scared she was going to hurt herself. So he held her wrists firmly, keeping them in place. Which just made Y/N start to struggle to get out of his grip.
“Don’t touch me!”
“I know,” Bruce finally whimpered. “I know you hate me. I know you’ve always hated me.”
Y/N finally stepped away and he let her go, seeing that she was done trying to beat him.
“I wish it was you,” she whispered. “I wish you had died in that car instead of mom. Then we never would’ve met. And I wish it was you that died. Not Jason.”
Bruce just blinked.
With that, Y/N turned and sprinted to her bedroom, slamming in the door loud enough that Bruce could hear it from the den.
————
After Jason’s tragic death, a part of Bruce’s heart died and he would never get it back. But with his shattered heart, grew a new panic that he couldn’t protect anyone.
And instead of telling Y/N the truth about his double life – the double life that got Jason killed – he promised himself that he would never let Y/N know.
But the only way to ensure that, was to send her far away.
“Boarding school?” Y/N growled. “In Switzerland?”
“It’s one of the top schools in the world.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Y/N said.
She was only 13, but it didn’t stop her from using profanities at Bruce any time she had the chance.
Her gaze snapped to Alfred for a millisecond, seeing if he’d be the one to scold her for using such foul language. But the butler simply looked at her, knowing she was looking for a fight with anyone and everyone these days.
“Guess it’s a good thing,” Y/N mumbled, shocking both the men. “You couldn’t keep Jason alive. Might as well send me away to make sure I’m not next.”
“Ms. Y/N, that is enough,” Alfred finally spoke.
He didn’t snap, but the finality of the discussion was still there.
“Should probably go pack anyway,” she hissed in response.
The next morning, Y/N didn’t even look at Bruce as she walked out the door carrying a couple bags. She refused to let anyone other than Alfred drive her to the airport.
Y/N offered Bruce no goodbye or even one last parting look.
He didn’t exist to her.
———
For the next years, Y/N never called. Bruce wouldn’t even know if she was alive if he didn’t call the school once a week to get a report.
Y/N didn’t even return to Gotham for holidays. Instead, she went home with any friend from school, preferring to hang out with someone else’s family than her own. Alfred had to basically beg Y/N to come back for the annual three-month summer break. And when she did, she was out god knows where all night and slept all day.
Bruce had followed her a few times. Well, Batman followed her. She was out with friends drinking or at a BatBurger or at a house party or sneaking into clubs that she was far too young to be at. But Y/N was Gotham’s princess, the long-lost daughter of Bruce Wayne. She just had to smile and show her ID and clubs would get her a table.
But then there was one night that Bruce hadn’t been following his daughter…and he saw something he wasn’t meant to.
Bruce had been patrolling, following a lead.
He didn’t expect to see Y/N getting handed a small backpack in exchange for a bag of what he could assume was money.
Bruce recognized the man immediately. He worked for the Penitente Cartel. One of the lower-level thugs who mostly managed the dealers on the street.
Y/N could hate him all she wanted. She could ice him out, ignore him, pretend she wasn’t a Wayne. But Bruce drew the line at her dealing and getting herself into the shit that he was trying to end in Gotham.
It was 9 in the morning when Bruce burst into Y/N’s bedroom.
She was passed out in an oversized t-shirt and grey sweatpants.
Y/N was 17 now and looked more like a young woman than a teenager or child. And that made Bruce even more nervous about her activities.
She jumped in fear at the disruption, sitting up straight in her giant bed.
Bruce had never invaded her space before and she was clearly shocked by it.
“Get out,” Y/N hissed.
But Bruce ignored her and started searching through her bedroom to find the bag he saw her get handed last night.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Y/N snapped as she jumped out of bed.
But as soon as she was off the bed, Bruce lifted the mattress as if it weighed nothing and spotted the black backpack.
Bruce turned to her, shoving the backpack in her face. “What is this?”
Y/N tried to grab it from him, but Bruce wasn’t having it.
“Give it back,” Y/N growled.
“So you’re dealing drugs now?” Bruce asked. “That’s your new angle for trying to get back at me.”
“Oh, please.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “As if I give enough of a fuck about you to even put an effort into pissing you off. I’m not dealing.”
“So you just planned on using $100,000 worth of drugs?” Bruce challenged.
Y/N actually laughed in his face. “It’s discounted. Sometimes using your stupid family name gets me a favor. I pay half of what it’s worth and charge those stupid brats at school twice as much.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes. “As if you need the money.”
“It’s my money,” Y/N growled. “That I earn myself. And you can’t track it.”
“Planning on running away?”
“It’s not running away if I’m 18,” she told him, matter of factly.
“You want to move out of here and never speak to me again when you’re 18? Fine. It’s not as if I’ve ever threatened to cut you off. But I will draw the line at you getting involved with cartels.”
Bruce couldn’t tell what made Y/N angrier: the fact that he knew exactly where she got her drugs or the fact that he wasn’t pushing back like he clearly wanted.
Then he saw Y/N’s eyes suddenly darken, as if something snapped within her.
Y/N stepped closer to Bruce slowly. It made him tighten his grip on the backpack.
“Did you see me during your little patrols in your stupid costume?”
Bruce’s eyes widened, a rare slip of showing a reaction. But he couldn’t stop it.
And he could tell he’d given Y/N exactly the reaction she wanted – shock, panic, fear – because she gave laughed darkly in his face.
“I always knew you thought I was stupid,” she continued. “But did you honestly think I could live in the same house as Batman and not figure it out.”
Bruce’s heart was racing. “How…How long have you known?”
Y/N scoffed. Of course that’s what he would zero in on. “A year or so after I moved here.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” She snapped back.
Bruce was silent, processing every interaction he’d ever had with his daughter and seeing in through the new lens. She knew. She knew almost all along.
But Y/N wasn’t done hurting Bruce yet. “Jason didn’t die that night. Robin did.”
Suddenly, she seemed done with the conversation and started moving around the room.
“What are you doing?” Bruce asked.
“Leaving.”
“No, you are not. You are still a kid. My kid. And I–”
“Oh, yeah?” Y/N cut him off. “How am I your kid? Huh? Besides sharing you’re DNA, there is nothing between us. I hated you then and I hate you now even more.”
Bruce’s next words were even and slow, “You are not leaving this house, Y/N.”
Y/N stopped packing and walked to him again. “You are going to let me do whatever the fuck I want, whenever I want. And you know why? Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world their beloved Bruce Wayne is Batman.”
Bruce just stared his daughter down.
And somehow he understood that it was not an empty threat. She would do it.
Y/N seemed pleased with silence and finished up her packing.
She approached Bruce one last time with a warning look before shifting her gaze to the bag of drugs he was holding. She snatched it from his hands, and he let her.
“Stop pretending like you’ll miss me,” she called over her shoulder. “You sent me away the first chance you got.”
“I sent you away because I was terrified that you would be next,” Bruce muttered just as she reached the door. “You already knew I was Batman. How long would it have taken for you to make your way down the same path?”
Y/N had frozen in place to listen, but refused to turn around.
After a few moments, she turned ever so slightly so he could hear her say, “The idea of me becoming one of you was so terrible, that you made me this way instead.”
With that, she left the manor.
———
Bruce didn’t see Y/N for months. He always knew where she was, tracking every relocation she did. But she never checked in again, never came back to the manor. Now, she wasn’t even answering Alfred’s calls. Dick tried to reason with her, but had only snarled at him to leave her alone.
It was another night in Gotham.
The signal had only been in the air for 5 minutes and Batman was on his way, screaming through the streets in his vehicle.
He found Gordon waiting outside a the Iceberg Lounge, surrounded by dozens of Gotham PD. It only took a few seconds for Bruce to see that the group was struggling to keep it together.
“What happened?” Bruce asked with his Batman voice.
Gordon seemed to be failing to find words. His head was bowed and he couldn’t find the courage to meet Batman’s waiting gaze.
Finally, he lifted his head and looked at his cops. “Tell everyone to clear the scene.”
A younger cop spoke up. “But we’re still–”
“That’s an order. Clear the area.”
Batman tensed. Out of all the years of working with Gordon, he’d never done something like this before. He had never feared the gaze of Batman, never shied away from explaining the disturbing crime scenes they were about to study together.
But when they walked into the lounge, Bruce understood.
The usual colorful strobe lights were off, replaced by the bright fluorescents that were only on after hours when the cleaning crew was working.
And they lit the bodies perfectly.
Dead bodies.
Everywhere.
Sprawled across each other. Blood from one person staining the clothes of another.
And then Bruce saw her.
And he finally understood Gordon’s strange behavior.
There Y/N laid, her lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling of the club. There were three bullet holes in her chest.
Bruce had always suspected that Gordon knew the truth, knew who he was behind the mask. And those suspicions were finally confirmed.
Gordon was bringing Batman in here alone because he knew that Y/N was his daughter.
But Bruce was silent.
There was a ringing in his ear, making it hard for him to process the crime scene like he usually did so naturally.
“It was a fight between gangs,” Gordon explained. “The crossfire…it…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t find it in him to politely explain that Y/N Wayne was just collateral damage in a petty turf war.
Batman said nothing.
His gaze hadn’t moved from Y/N.
“I’ll give you a moment alone.”
Bruce was trembling the moment he was alone.
He heard someone drop to the ground behind him. He turned to find Dick in his Nightwing uniform, eyes already wide with horror as they stared at Y/N’s dead body.
“No,” Dick gasped. “No, no, no.”
Then Dick was rushing forward, crying over Y/N.
After a minutes of silent tears, Dick looked up at Bruce. “We can’t leave her here.”
But Bruce was shaking his head already. “We have to.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Every police officer has already seen her. What will they think if they put together that Batman took Y/N Wayne’s body from a crime scene?”
Dick knew he was right. But he hated it. Absolutely hated it.
Before he let Bruce drag him out of the club, Dick silently cried over Y/N’s body, clutching her hand as if it could bring him any comfort.
———-
“How did it end?” Y/N asked in a whisper.
As Bruce told the story – their alternate timeline, their lives in a parallel universe – Jason had moved closer and closer to Y/N. Her body got stiff and her skin lost some of it’s color.
Bruce didn’t answer Y/N’s question.
“Bruce,” she pushed, a tiny bit louder.
“Jason,” he finally stated.
Y/N looked at her boyfriend, but he was glaring at Bruce.
“Jason killed me,” Bruce clarified.
“Because of the Joker?” Jason asked.
Bruce shook his head. “Because of what happened to Y/N.”
Jason tensed at the realization.
Bruce continued with, “Instead of hating me for not seeking revenge with the Joker, Jason hated me for not protecting Y/N.”
She looked to Jason again, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Because Jason could completely see himself – another self – doing such a thing. If it was Y/N, even if they weren’t involved like they were in this life, Jason would despise Bruce more from that than for never killing the Joker.
“What they showed you,” Y/N began, “Is there any sort of permanent damage? Will you be OK?”
“I’ll be fine,” Bruce answered roughly and far too quickly.
“I called in a favor with Constantine. He should be here tomorrow afternoon,” Dick chimed in. “Better safe than sorry.”
“What Master Wayne needs is some rest,” Alfred appeared behind them.
Jason, Dick, and Y/N whipped around to see the butler’s disapproving look. But they all nodded, understanding that Alfred always knew best.
“I’m gonna go for a drive,” Jason suddenly muttered. And he bolted out of the room. “I’m takin’ one of the bikes,” he called over his shoulder.
“As long as it’s not mine,” Dick called after him.
Y/N was taken aback by Jason’s abrupt departure. But clearly he needed to think.
After Bruce finished his story, Jason clearly couldn’t look at her.
Leave it to Jason to be guilty about not protecting her – even when it was an alternate universe that he wasn’t a part of.
“Hungry?” Dick asked Y/N with a heavy sigh.
She just nodded, knowing she wasn’t hungry, but agreeing to go with Dick to the kitchen anyway because she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.
Y/N picked at the leftovers Dick heated up for her. He knew better than to try and actually cook for her. And both of them didn’t want Alfred to stress himself with making them food with everything going on.
“You OK?” Dick asked after he could no longer handle watching her push her food around.
“I don’t know. How is one supposed to feel after finding out about an alternate timeline of their life?”
She wasn’t being sarcastic or snapping. Her confusion was genuine.
Dick smirked. “Believe it or not, getting involved with alternate dimensions isn’t all that rare in our line of work.”
“How do you keep it from driving you insane?”
Dick sighed. “No matter what happened to me in other worlds – or I should say is happening – I guess I always end up at the same place: There’s versions of me that have it better, but there’s also versions of me that have it way worse. I can’t fix them or copy them. All I can do is appreciate what I have here – right here. And be grateful I’m not living in one of those worst versions.”
Y/N gave Dick a shy and sad smile, knowing Dick had figured it all out.
“The thing is,” she began, “I can see myself hating him so easily. Had things gone that way, there’s not a doubt in my mind that the two of us would’ve never solved our issues.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say this,” Dick winced, “But it’s good you found this family when you did.”
“I think you’re right,” Y/N admitted with a slow nod.
Suddenly Alfred came out from the kitchen with two large mugs in his hands, then softly placing one in front of each of them.
Dick whistled lowly. “Alfred’s famous hot chocolate. How lucky are we.”
“Alfred, you shouldn’t be worrying yourself about us. You should be getting rest, just like Bruce.”
“Y/N, you should know by now that rest is hardly found in this manor,” Alfred answered. “But I will be retiring to my room. Be sure to wake me if anything changes.”
“Night, Alfred.” The two of them said in unison.
“I swear, this hot chocolate has some sort of magic.”
Y/N eyed it, noting the ridiculous amount of marshmallows in it and how the smell alone had her salivating. She could tell immediately this was no standard, powdered crap.
“I’m worried about Jason,” she finally confessed.
Dick squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “You know how he is…just gotta give him some time to sort out what he’s actually feeling.”
Y/N nodded, knowing he was right.
“Jason is fiercely protective. And knowing the people he loves were hurt in another dimension? He still takes it as personal failure.”
“I’m gonna wait up for him in the den,” Y/N sighed.
“Want company?” Dick asked.
But she was expecting the offer and shook her head before he even got the two-word question out. “No. Thank you, but go to sleep, Dick.”
He softly rubbed her back as he stood up.
Y/N went to the den with the rest of her hot chocolate and put on some random movie to zone out to while she waited for her boyfriend.
It wasn’t until an hour later that she heard the motorcycle return.
Jason was walking steadily until he passed the doorway of the den, clearly not expecting to find his girlfriend awake and waiting for him.
“Hey,” Y/N greeted ever so softly.
“Hey,” Jason mimicked back as he walked into the room.
“Wanna talk about it?” Y/N asked.
“I shouldn’t have left like that.” He was gearing up for an apology.
Y/N shrugged. “You needed some space to think. I get it.”
“No, it was selfish. I should’ve stayed with you.”
“But I’m fine,” she tried to tell him.
“Are you?” He challenged her.
“Am I supposed to crawl into a ball and cry my eyes out because there’s a universe out there where my life turned into a dumpster fire?”
“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N.” Then he was sitting next to her on the couch, pulling her onto his lap. “I’m just telling you that you’re allowed to be upset after hearing crazy shit like that…”
Y/N didn’t fight the movement, but tucked herself against his body, inhaling his scent and finding comfort in his abnormal body heat.
“Dick thinks you’re feeling guilty because you couldn’t stop it…”
She felt his body tense at the assumption.
“You know I’d rather die then admit that Dick was right about something…”
Y/N giggled at his response and lifted her head to look at him.
But then her face slowly dropped to serious. “You can’t save me in every universe, Jason.”
“I don’t need reminding,” Jason answered curtly before his teeth ground and his jaw clenched.
Y/N grabbed his face between her hands, tracing the bottom of his strong jawline. “Jason, saving me in one world is more than enough. Don’t torture yourself more than you already do.”
But she saw that he was still not convinced.
“You’re enough, Jason. And you don’t need to be my hero in every universe. This one’s just fine.”
His eyes glazed over with tears, but he forbid them to escape.
He slowly nods, finally.
“It hurts. Even with me holding you right now, it hurts to think that there’s a you somewhere that needed my help, but I wasn’t there.”
“I know,” Y/N coos.
“But Dick had a good point: we can’t go crazy thinking about the other versions of us doing better or worse.”
“When did he get so wise?” Jason mumbled, clearly annoyed that he couldn’t help but admit that Dick saw reason where he didn’t.
“I promise I won’t tell him you said that,” Y/N giggled lightly.
A silence settled between them as they continued to cuddle on the couch.
“You’re worried about Bruce, huh?” Jason finally asked after a few minutes.
He knew that’s why she wasn’t as freaked out about what she’d heard. If the people she loved were in danger or hurting, she pushed all her own needs and thoughts and feelings completely to the side.
“Yeah,” she admitted.
“He’ll be fine,” Jason assured her. “The bastards been through shit a hundred times worse than this. He was worried about you. But now that he saw you, he’ll pull himself together.”
“I know you’re right. But my worry is taking over my brain and it’s hard to be logical.”
Jason kissed the top of her head and managed to hold her even tighter.
Another few minutes passed.
“Hey, Jason?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad I get this version of you.”
“I’m the luckiest fuckin’ bastard to get any version of you.”
––––––––––––
Honestly, can't believe I just wrote something and published it. This has been saved on my computer, halfway done, for like months and months. I teased it a long time ago. So if anyone was ever actually waiting for it, hope it was worth the wait.
Pairing: Selina Kyle x female reader (no other specifications)
Word Count: 872 words
Outline: Going home with the woman you met at the club.
Warnings: weed, shotgunning, fingering, oral sex, praise kink, slight lingerie kink, degradation, not beta'ed, all mistakes are my own, if I didn't tag something pls let me know!
Author’s Note: Contains zero spoilers. I have ideas for 2 more drabbles like this. Njoy!
P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics // banners by @maysdigitalarts
Main Masterlist ・❥・Selina Kyle MasterList
NSFW UNDERNEATH THE CUT, MINORS DNI.
"Open your mouth pretty girl, come on."
Attentively, you spread your mouth open, eyes widened looking at her. Anything she'd tell you to do and you would do it. Anything.
"Just like that. Good girl."
Selina takes a strong puff from the joint that is hanging on her godlike lips and inhales. You watch the way her chest sinks in, nipples hard underneath the white small shirt she was wearing. She looked delicious and you wanted nothing more than to devour her whole. She lets go of the joint shutting her eyes for a moment throwing her head back before returning her attention to you. With her right hand, she holds your chin from underneath, pressing her soft lips against yours, and then proceeds to blow smoke inside your mouth. Fuck, you felt delirious.
It was only two hours ago at the club when you caught her eye. It wasn’t often you went down to the city, having not long moved to Gotham city. She had spent the next hour buying you drinks and dancing with you, grinding you on her so hard and rough that you almost came right there on the dancefloor. It was downright sinful how she teased you. Then she offered you a ride and spend the entire time with one hand on the wheel one hand underneath your short skirt. She had made you cum on her fingers twice till you arrived at her place. You were ready to give her everything, please her as she had pleased you. The heat level on your stomach had risen extra high. That woman was oozing sex.
Selina had a different idea though.
She had you sit on the couch and then offered you smoke and a drink. Watching her work the joint on her delicate fingers felt like magic. Occasionally looking up at you to make sure she had your undivided attention. It was almost as she wanted you to examine each of her movements.
Back to now and you were inhaling the sweet smoke, feeling a familiar wave of euphoria hitting every cell of your body. It was strong weed, you wouldn’t expect anything less from that mysterious woman. She hadn't given you a name, only told you to make sure to thank god every time she made you cum. You had found that amusing, to say the least. Chasing after a beautiful girl like her in the middle of the night could only lead to wonderful things.
"I want to ruin you." She says in a whisper, hands on your knees, black eyes staring deep with your soul.
"I don't want you to ever be able to touch yourself without thinking of me, sugar." She continues gazing deep inside your eyes.
You could only nod your head at her, your brain already getting fuzzy. Feeling yourself sinking back on the couch as she spread your legs. She pushes up your skirt again, ripping off your already ruined panties, taking a sniff before throwing them on the floor. You can feel yourself getting wetter as she smirks at you.
"You are nothing but a dumb baby, aren't you? I haven’t even done anything and you are fucking leaking. It looks like a swimming pool down here, dove."
Can you talk? You try to but nothing comes other than a whimper. When she licks a stripe over your pussy lips you can only moan louder. Once her lips and tongue come in contact with your clit, she doesn’t leave it until she is satisfied. You don't even remember how long it has been, just that you are begging her to let you have a taste of her.
"Only good babies get to taste me."
You whimper again wiggling your body on the couch. When she leaves your pussy, her mouth is soaked in your pussy juices. Selina uses the back of her hand to wipe out the excess and come up to you to roughly kiss your lips. She deepens the kiss until you could taste yourself on her.
"I want to have you, please, please let me."
A broken cry leaves your lips as your hands are wrapping at the back of her neck pressing your forehead against hers. Another set of whimpers leaves you as you begin to move your body, trying to grind yourself on her. Yet she only looks at you with unimpressed eyes.
"Not yet, princess."
She warns you again and gets up walking away from you to sit on the opposite chair of you. She takes the joint again and a silver crested lighter. Toying with the lighter and the fire at first –you feel a new heat rising when she moves her thumb over the fire. All you can do is moan while your hands move to your breasts. She slowly licks her lips together before taking a puff keeping her eyes on you. Your legs are still spread, pussy in all is slick glory looking at her.
"Soon."
She declares in her saccharine voice and you slowly breathe out. Your fingers are now working your nipples wanting to give her a little show.
"I could wait forever."
You let out in something between a whimper and a whisper.
"I know, sweetheart."
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I Don’t Want To Know What It's Like (To Live Without You)
Bruce Wayne x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Explicit Language, Non-graphic mentions of Injuries and blood (Canon typical)
A/N: Look who decided to finally rise from the grave and write a hurt/comfort fic that is more comfort than anything else really.
I wrote it while obsessing over Ruelle's The Other Side but it's not as bad as the title makes it sound. Bruce just has poor self preservation skills that's all. Also fyi Reader is a magic user partially based on one of my ocs <3
•°•°•°•°
“If I didn’t know you any better Missus Wayne, I’d accuse you of trying to get me naked.”
That earned him a well deserved smack on the back of his head. With a half heated glare she snapped her fingers finally getting rid of the blood soaked Kevlar, the cracked cowl and the barely intact cape that he was in. She had seen him being much, much worse off than this. It was true. It was. That didn’t make the amount of torn and bruised skin any less nauseating to see.
“You and your blatant god-awful flirting”, she muttered under her breath, her brows creasing as her tongue clicked in open disagreement of what she saw in front of her.
While she was busy mentally cataloging the wounds that needed most immediate of her attention, Bruce craned his neck as far back as he physically could from where he was sitting on the cot and as he had expected, the entirety of his suit from the waist up which had disappeared with a whoosh, reappeared, not a second later in the bin at the far corner of the med bay. Turning back he shot one of his eyebrows up in a silent question.
“What? It’s not like you were helping me take that hunk of a suit off.”
She shrugged. Bending her elbows she brought both of her palms out towards his torso, stretching out in what little space was between them.
“I’ll be careful he said, don’t you worry he said.”
“(Y/N)…”
“Babe do us both a favor; shut up and for the God’s sake stop. moving.” She snapped even as willed herself to get to work. A part of her worried that her magic would hide behind the sheer intensity of her emotions she felt, while another part dreaded a worse outcome; lashing out uninhibitedly; God knows the simmering rage she felt deep down within was more than enough to catalyst that.
‘Your husband is in front of you. He needs you right now. There’s no threat here. He is in the cave now. He is home. So get yourself together and calm the fuck down for fuck’s sake.’
Obscuring her inner turmoil, she stole a glance up towards Bruce’s face. He had his eyes closed and the progressing relief being reflected on his face did wonders in draining out the tension lingering in her shoulders. The bastard though, chose that exact moment to crack open one of his eyelids, an amused smile making its way on to his face.
“Don’t. even.” She narrowed her eyes, fixing him a pointed look that all but said ‘I will happily throw your ass on the floor if you even try to voice your thoughts’
His jaw snapped close, relenting from making any teasing commentary residing on the tip of his tongue. He could feel how the fuzziness in his head started to dissipate and in its place came bone deep warmth. The kind one would get from a long hot shower after a good two hour workout. He sighed contentedly. With her he didn’t need to hide how he felt, be it pain or love, sorrow or happiness and everything else falling in between. He knew just how vulnerable that made him, especially for a person like him yet he could never ask or want for it to be any other way.
He watched her twirl her wrists with a practiced ease not known to many but came to her as a second nature, her palms engulfing in a vivid periwinkle aura that was all too familiar to him by now.
‘Home. It feels like home’, he’d told Diana once when she’d asked him. The answer was nothing short of confusing, but that was the closest he could come to describing it without stumbling over the words he was sure would never ever do justice to his lover; from the wisps of magic that often clung to her fingertips that gave her an otherworldly glow to the overflowing well of power deep within her.
His silent admiration came to a halt when he observed tiny beads of sweat starting to roll down her forehead as she continued pouring every ounce of her power into healing the bleeding flesh, desperately trying to knit everything back together as soon as possible; torn tissue, broken bones and all. Unable to keep the downward tug of her lips any longer, she continued to hover her hands over him, graceful yet frantic on the edge, fingertips ghosting over the bruised skin, barely touching so as to not upset the wounds further. She was getting more and more upset as she kept finding injury after injury which she could’ve sworn wasn’t there a minute ago.
“My love, you’re exhausting yourself”, there was no judgment in his voice, only an unwavering concern. He was stating a fact, something that she was made well aware of by her own body, every passing second.
Gritting her teeth she pushed through the waves of tiredness creeping in on her. ‘Just a little more’ she kept telling herself; kept repeating it like a mantra until she felt two warm and calloused hands firmly wrap around her wrists gently guiding them down from their outstretched position.
Bruce lifted one of his to cup her cheek, thumb soothingly running along the expanse of her cheekbone, “Can you open your eyes for me beautiful?”, he whispered guiding his other hand which was still holding one of hers up towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to each of her knuckles.
‘Her eyes were closed? When did that even happen?’
It took her longer than she’d like to admit, for the question to properly register in her brain and she cracked her eyelids open, meeting with a thankfully less bloody version of her husband.
“There you are sweetheart”
She hummed, stepping closer so as to stand in between Bruce’s open thighs, leaving little to no space between the two. She bent her neck down to rest her forehead against his, breathing out heavily.
‘Showered with three endearments in a row, exactly how pathetic do I look’, she thought to herself, but a deep rumble of laughter vibrating through the man in front of her, told her she had managed to say it out loud. That and the words “Not as pathetic as I do” that soon followed as the laughter subsided, leaving a broad grin in its place. She separated just even to shoot him a glare, but went back willingly when he tugged her towards him with a hand on each of her thighs, silently urging her to straddle him.
“I do wish for you to be more careful you know, that’s all I ask from you, that’s all I will ever ask from you Bruce”, she whispered, after what felt like an eternity, not wishing to break the comfortably quite atmosphere of the med-bay.
He waited for her to make herself comfortable, hands settling on her hips before diving in for a deep kiss full of love, care and reassurance. When they finally came up gasping from the lack of oxygen, (Y/N) opted to rest her head against his chest feeling its steady rise and fall and along with thump of his heartbeat. She carded her hands through the locks of his matted hair, occasionally scraping her nails through his scalp with just the right amount of pressure.
•°•°
“I know and I understand that.”
“I don’t think that you do”, her voice went hoarse. She lifted her head and met his steady gaze. Bruce could say for certain any torture inflicted upon him would have been better than looking at the unshed tears in her eyes. Hell, he would much rather have Bane break his back again than to ever be the cause for such pain for the love of his life.
“Every time you come home bloody and broken beyond imagination, on the literal brink of death and I have to heal you myself I wonder whether it’ll be enough, whether this one would be the one time where you slip so far away from me that I won’t be able to pull you back. What if one day you need my help and I am all drained out, I barely held myself together we both saw that”, she scoffed “I don’t think you understand how much I fear the day that you call out for my help and my magic hurts you instead because I can’t get a fucking grip on myself.”
“Your magic would never hurt me; I trust it as much as I trust you.” He spoke softly, as if saying it was the easiest thing in whole world. “I, (Y/N) Wayne, love you and trust you with my life” A kiss to the forehead “with my heart” A kiss to the nose “and with my soul” A kiss to the cheek “and I’d be more than happy to remind you of it for the rest of our lives because I assure you my love that it is nothing but an undeniable truth of my life with you.” He completed with a chaste kiss to her lips, looking at her sheepishly as if he hadn’t just blown the metaphorical ground she always stood on, albeit all in good ways and with beyond pure intentions.
“I don’t…”she started but words felt heavy in her mouth. He spoke his truth so it was only fair to speak hers wasn’t it?
“I don’t want to live without you Bruce, I don’t even want to think about a time like that, that thought in itself scares me beyond words and I- I just can’t lose you Bruce, I can’t”, her voice cracked at the last word, a chocked out sob making its way out of her throat and with it went the last bit of self restraint Bruce had mustered to let her get everything off her chest. Wiping a traitorous stray tear that fell down her cheek, with the pad of his thumb, he pulled her impossibly closer, burying her head in the crook of his neck placing his lips soft but firm, on her temple.
“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay” He kept murmuring in her ear, running his hands up and down her spine, until he felt the tremors wracking her figure subside and heard the sobs turn to small sniffs of her nose.
“You with me?”
“Always”, she mumbled nuzzling against his shoulder. Bruce nudged her just enough to get her to lift off her head, holding her chin with his thumb and index finger to prevent her from averting.
“Sorry for all that”, her voice raspy after crying as she gestured towards her face “Didn’t mean to have an emotional breakdown”
“Never apologize for how you feel. Ever.” He chided even as his hands around her tightened infinitesimally more.
“Now I can’t promise you that I won’t ever leave you because that is not something in my hands. What I can promise you is that I will be even more careful from now on and that no matter what I will always, always try my absolute best to come home to you in one piece”, he bumped his nose with hers, which if it weren’t for the gravity of his words would have coaxed an ear-to-ear smile out of her. Instead she let out a heavy sigh and Bruce could feel the previous tension which had been there ever since he stumbled out of the bat mobile and into her arms, seep out with every breath.
“That is all I ask, darling”, she whispered mirroring her statement at the start of their conversation. She moved forward, closing the gap and bringing their chests flush together. ‘I love you’s’ whispered against every brush of their lips.
Their bubble lasted up until they heard a loud snort in the background followed by a “You guys are so gross” and a much louder “I told you they would be making out by now! ‘Gravely Injured’ my ass”, Jason muttered the last part as he speed-walked back up the stairs of the cave.
“How mad do you think Alfred would be if I tripped him on his way up with an invisible rope allegedly made from my magic.”
“Dunno, but we’ll never know till we try now will we.”
The smirk on Bruce’s face matched perfectly with the evil glint in her eyes. It was also all the answer she needed as she immediately snapped her fingers and they were both rewarded with a loud thud followed by a “behaving like a couple of teenagers is so not cool guys! Oh stop laughing and help me up you Dickhead!”
summary; the aftermath of an interrogation gone a bit too far.
warnings; mentions of bloody knuckles, an unconscious body; a hint of floof
song; monsters (acoustic reverb version)—ruelle
author's note; happy fall.
The low, yet incessant humming of the generator in the background did little to ease the groans coming from the barely conscious body in the corner of the room. Stubbornly, you massaged the bloody nubs that coated your knuckles.
A pair of black boots approached you, offering a piece of torn, bloody fabric. Your eyes went to the body in the corner. The shoulder of his buttoned down shirt had been missing. You looked back at the cloth in your partner's hands.
It was better than nothing.
Reluctantly, you took it and applied pressure to the wounds on your hands before wrapping it intricately around your fingers. By no means you couldn't get it to stay wrapped around your fingers - the wounds too big to keep it secure.
A hand settled on top of yours just before you could give up. Your partner crouched before you, gently taking the torn fabric. Without any warning, he wordlessly took your injured hand and began to wrap it firmly. Weaving the fabric between and around your fingers, you winced in pain. Fresh wounds were always tender to the touch.
"So, what are you going to do with him?" You dared to ask as he worked on fastening the knot.
"I'm taking him to the police," he replied almost instantly, cinching the knot firmly. He did another knot for good measure. You gritted your teeth as pain prickled throughout your hand.
"The police?"
"I trust them. Some of them."
You begged to differ. The body in the corner was a petty thief layered in sheep's clothing - a closet drophead who had connections in the underground that stretched beneath the city like roots that infiltrated the government, the police department, and even the poor. Those same roots put a chokehold on those closest to you—pulling them down further and further to the ground until they were no longer there. Until their minds were far off - hung up on addiction, murder, and greed.
"I don't," You said, running your fingers over the makeshift bandage as he finished wrapping your hand. You balled it into a fist, making the tight cinch loose. "Everyone's corrupt—"
He grabbed your hand, not forcefully but enough to ease your anger.
"Not everyone," he said, fastening the "bandage" once more before looking at you.
You scoffed lightly and shook your head in amusement, a brief smile breaking through. "I know you're not corrupt."
"How do you know that?"
"Because actions speak louder than words." You looked down at your bandaged hand sitting in his gloved one. Despite the conversation being laced with frustration and debate, he had been nothing but gentle. His thumb lightly settled across your knuckles, his fingers curling around your palm gently. There was a mutual understanding between the two of you. Your curious suspicions about his trust in the some of the police department had already been answered.
Actions speak louder than words.
You both did little to break eye contact before a soft 'thud' in the corner brought you both back to reality. The body's boot kicked the generator one final time before it went still.
"He's dead," You said. A part of you hoped your observation was wrong as Vengeance stood to check his pulse. You knew very well you had caused too much damage before the real questions had yet to be asked.
"Unconscious," he reported a few moments after, causing you to sigh in relief. Vengeance removed his fingers from the Body's neck before he crouched down to sit him up.
You watched quietly as you nursed your hand, your fingers lightly massaging over the wounds. Your festering anger simmered down and was slowly being replaced with curiosity as Vengeance tied to the ropes around the Body's chest tighter so he couldn't escape when the police arrived.
You weren't sure if you had made the situation worse by knocking him unconscious, but the monstrous deed of revenge had been done...and for the sake of the person you trusted, you didn't feel guilty about it.
After all, you were just as much of a monster as he was in the eyes of Gotham.
Summary: Detective Y/L/N is the youngest yet the most skilled detective in Gotham’s Police, being one of the few James Gordon trusts with Batman stuff. After some time working closely with the Bat, Y/N starts to get the vigilante’s attention. But there’s no way this would work right? Getting close to you as Batman wasn’t a possibility, but maybe he could take a chance as Bruce, right?
Words: 3,2k
Previous | Masterlist |
A/N: Happy mother's day! Hope you are having a great time with the ones you love. It took me longer than expected to write this chapter, I rewrited like... 4 times to come out as I wanted. By the way I decided to spend more of my time writing. Things haven't beeing great and writing is something I really enjoy to do. Reading your comments and seeing you guys enjoy it makes me feel better. So even touth the time is short, with college and friends and family and work (i know...) I decid to dedicate more of my time on this story and others I have in mind. Anyways... Hopefully you will be seeing more of me. So hope you liked this one and let me know what you think (any critics or compliments are welcome)
You are sitting on the cafe counter waiting for Andrea to take the order of some random client to proceed with your conversation, while you look at some papers from a new case you have been working on.
“Okay let me see if I get this straight,” she said while standing in front of you on the other side of the balcony and added, “You are dating the most famous guy in the city for over a month and you haven’t even kissed him yet?”
“We are not dating” you corrected her
“That’s bullshit!” she argued “You guys have been out like what? 8 times?”
“9” you mumbled, looking to your coffee and the papers on the counter.
“Oh my god! You are insufferable” she growled
You and Bruce made those little dates a thing, almost every week you would go out for a quick coffee or lunch together. You even appeared in the gossip magazines once or twice as the billionaire's new fling. But nothing ever happened. You were still unsure about all of this. You liked the friendship you both had and you enjoyed spending time with him. But you weren’t sure if you wanted this to turn into a relationship. And Bruce not even once pushed or questioned you about anything. Beeing a gentleman as always.
“We are good friends,” you said
“Well… you have a very hot and rich friend” she added, raising her eyebrows to you, you simply rolled your eyes and decided to ignore her comment. “There is no way you haven’t thought about it”
“Well, of course, I did” you admitted “But there’s nothing to think about it. I like having another friend besides you and Jim. I don’t want to be in a relationship right now and there is no way someone like him wants to be in a relationship with someone like me.”
“Sometimes I really want to hit you in the face” was all she said before being called once again to take some costumer orders.
It felt like you both had this conversation like a million times already.
She was always telling you to move things forward with Bruce. You would say you were just friends and how you wanted to focus on your job, and that there was no way Bruce Wayne who dates models and Hollywood actresses would want to date you. She would say that no guy took a girl out that many times if he just wanted to be friends. And you being your insecure and stubborn self would choose not to believe her.
“You’re a beautiful, intelligent, successful detective. He would be stupid to not want to date someone ‘like you” she said returning to the other side of the counter and doing a sarcastic voice in the last words
“Can we change the subject? You just want me to date him so you could get a ride in his car” you responded her, obvious joking “Plus… is not like I want someone like him anyway”
“Oooh right. He isn’t too dark and mysterious for your taste”
“What do you mean?” you asked confused
“I mean that he doesn’t put on a bat costume and fights criminals at night… Totally not your type.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous”
“You’re the one with a crush on a crazy guy you don’t even know the face”
“I do not have a crush”
“You do”
“I don’t. That would be ridiculous.”
“Exactly” was all she said before going to take some other customer's order.
You totally don’t have a crush on Batman. That would be totally nonrational of you. You don’t even know the guy. Sure you had been working “together” for a few years. Sure you found him extremely intelligent. Sure you admired him. And he intrigues you.
That’s it, you were intrigued. There was nothing more than admiration.
Maybe if you repeat that enough you would actually believe it.
You hated having this kind of talk with Andrea. But you liked it at the same time. It was like you were perfect opposites. She was all emotion and spontaneously and you the rational half.
She always made you see things differently than the way they were in your head. And you hated how she always made you question things at the end of every conversation.
That’s why you would rather talk to Jim. But you didn't wanna talk about relationships with him. That would be too awkward. The guy is almost like a father to you.
So Andrea would do. And maybe she was right. You are a beautiful, intelligent, successful detective. You shouldn’t be afraid of taking the next step in a relationship.
To be honest you know Bruce wants more. He wouldn’t ask you on a date after only seeing you twice (and even after you called him dumb on your first encounter) if he didn’t like you.
And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like him like that too. He was fun to be with. He was always a gentleman with you. You like him. But there was a stupid not so little voice inside your head telling you things like you were not enough for someone like him. There was no way Bruce Wayne of all people would like you. Even though he never made you feel like that. Maybe you should let your more emotional and spontaneous side take over.
And the batman thing… Well on that subject you need the racional side to really take over.
There’s no possible way anything could ever happen. The guy never speaks more than 10 words per night. You know nothing about him besides he likes bats (probably).
There was a really nice guy in your life. One that talks to you. Shows you sides of him he doesn't show everyone. And that likes you.
“You really think he likes me like that?” you manifest your internal thoughts to Andrea as soon as she steps in front of you
“Who? The Batman?”
“No, you idiot…. Bruce”
“ooooh - yeah, definitely,” she said nodding “Told you already. No guy would take you out that many times if he didn’t like you - I swear sometimes it’s like you don’t even listen to me”
“Well… unfortunately I do” you joked “Actually you talk so much that sometimes I block your voice on my brain and just nod” she hits your arm and you pretend that it hurt
“Why do you ask though?” she gave you a knowing look and raised an eyebrow “Finally thinking of giving the guy a chance?”
“I don’t know just thinking about the whole situation”
Three days later that conversation. You were sitting in the Wayne Manor library. Working on a case as he worked on his company paperwork or something. It has become a usual thing between you two.
You would just go to Manor to spend time together. You did your thing while he did his. Not necessarily engaging in a conversation. Just simply enjoying each other’s company.
It didn't make sense for you to drive all the way there. But you just liked having a different environment to work in and you could enjoy Alfred’s cooking on top of that. Plus.. the company wasn’t actually unpleasant.
Bruce was pretty smart. Sometimes you would talk about what you were working on and vice-versa. And to your surprise sometimes he would even help you. Coming up with some quite smart solutions.
But this time you couldn’t help but think about your talk with Andrea back in the cafe. That one where the subject wasn’t exactly new. But when you talked to Jim bravely about it. Hoping he would agree with you and blow those crazy emotional thoughts out of your head.
You were surprised when he agreed with your barista friend. He even told you he was seeing right through your feelings for weeks but hasn't said anything because he knows you and knew you would just deny it anyway.
If you were already thoughtful, you are even more now. You couldn’t focus on your case. The papers in front of you were just a distraction from the handsome man sitting across from you. You were uncharacteristically uneasy. And he seemed to notice. Of course, he would notice;
“Are you alright?” Bruce asked turning his sight of the computer in front of him to you
“Yeah I’m” you looked at him and gave him a little smile before turning your attention back to the papers in front of you “Just a complicated case” you couldn’t tell him the real reason for your anxiety so you blamed on the case (well- it wasn’t exactly a lie)
“Wanna talk about it? Maybe it will help you clear your thoughts” he knew it wasn’t fair to lie to you. Pretend he was just a civilian guy that came up with solutions. But he loved to hear about your cases and help you solve them. There was some excitement in acting like Batman being Bruce.
“It’s nothing really, just another weird man wanting to play god in this city” you quickly tried to dismiss the conversation but Bruce seemed interested in what you had to say when he closed his computer and turned his full attention to you.
Noticing he wouldn’t let it go, you continued.
“There is this guy… Black mask he calls himself, basically an underworld king in Gotham” you said avoiding his gaze and looking at the papers on the table “Night clubs, drug trafficking, kidnapping, murders. Pretty sure he is involved with all that, but we can never get to him”
Bruce was well aware of who Black Mask was. He was working with you and Gordon to get a hand on this guy. But he listened to you talk about it like it was the first time he ever heard of it.
“You know this city. There is always a new guy in a weird costume wanting to rule it all” you added and turned quietly your attention to the papers not having anything else to add.
There was another thing Bruce liked about you. You never shared much about your cases. You would make a comment or two about what you were working on to keep a conversation but never gave away too much information. Always keeping professional. After all, he was just some civilian, he shouldn’t know about police cases with the details that you didn’t know he had.
“So I’m just trying to find some kind of loop. Something we can actually prove he was involved in. So we can arrest him and put an end to his reign”
He nodded and let you return your focus to your papers.
“So… is Batman helping you in this one?” he couldn’t help it, could he? immediately after he said that he regretted it. But he couldn’t help. Some weird part of him liked hearing you talk about him being oblivious of the situation.
“Yes, he is”' you said, turning back your attention to him “Ever since we heard of black mask first appearance actually. He is always such a big help.” Bruce had to hide his smirk hearing you talk about him like that.
“He doesn't need a court order. So he just goes there and kicks some ass. Is so cool. Of course, there are rules for a reason. And sometimes he breaks the law - which I don’t agree with - but sometimes, I swear, all that bureaucracy only delays our work. And he doesn't need that…” you kept babbling (like you usually do when you were nervous or excited) about the batman. And Bruce wasn’t having fun anymore.
He noticed that every time you started talking about Batman there was a behavior change. You would get excited. Usually, you start babbling. You would get excited like it was a topic you really liked to talk about.
So Bruce started overthinking this whole situation. You had been spending time together for over a month now. And he notice that not even once did he hear you talk about him with the excitement you talked about Batman. He tought about all your interactions with the dark knight and Bruce started thinking you were more confortable around Batman than with him
He swears to God. It’s like he is competing with himself over your attention.
And of course, you don’t know that. Which only makes it worse.
Bruce realized that he is jealous of himself. What a situation.
You kept rambling about Batman and how you were working together on the Black mask case. When you notice Bruce's change of expression. He suddenly seemed sad for a second only to turn clearly angry.
“What is it?” you asked, interrupting your rambling and looking straight into his eyes.
“What?”
“That face” you explained “You look angry. Did I say something wrong?”
He thought you wouldn’t notice it. He was always so good at keeping a poker face. Being an unreadable character. But to be fair to him, an ordinary person wouldn’t notice it. But you were no ordinary. You were a detective. You literally do this shit for a living.
“I’m not angry” he tried to assure you, but once again you weren’t convinced. “You didn’t say anything wrong, just keep going…” he tried to turn your focus away from him.
“No. You are” you said, straightening yourself in the chair and closing the file on the table to turn your attention fully to him, suddenly curious about what had made him angry, worried you said something to upset him. Slightly nervous. You were now worried you blew it all. Now that you were coming clear about your feelings for him. “I can see right through your face, don’t lie to me,” you said with a nervous laugh
“Right… with your detective superpowers,” he joked and chucked as an attempt to make time to think of a reasonable explanation. He couldn't lie to you cause you would see right through it. And he could tell you the truth without sounding vulnerable and stupid for being jealous of a girl who wasn’t even his.
“It’s not a superpower” you played along. “It’s science. People do involuntary microexpressions that leak what they're feeling even for a fraction of a second. And you know I happen to notice them.”
You had a conversation once about this. He remembers. You told him how you study it after seeing it in a Tv series because you thought it would be useful for your job. And that only made him admire you more. But he couldn't say he was surprised since he had that knowledge himself. But he had to admit, even Batman doesn't match you in that subject. Since you tend to look directlly at to people's faces way more than him.
“It seems like a superpower to me”
“Call it as you want. You still looked angry for a second back then” you said relaxing in the chair once again. But still holding your gaze on him, focused on getting the truth out of him even if it might hurt you.
Bruce was frustrated. He hasn’t thought about a way out. He hated how he normally would get out of this situation. But he hated how he couldn’t come clear when you were involved. It’s like you could see right through all his defenses. He ran his fingers to his hair before speaking.
"It 's just…” he hesitated “It’s just the way you talk about this Batman guy.”
Okay- that took you by surprise. Your mind was already going millions per mile thinking he ran out of patience waiting for you, or how he would ask you to leave his house cause you said something he didn’t agree with. You were surprised but relieved.
“You always seem so excited. And calling him ‘cool’. And repeating how nice is to work it him”
You couldn’t help but chuck. Both for your imagination and for the idea of Bruce Wayne being jealous of a guy in a costume.
“You’re jealous of Batman, Bruce?” you teased him
“Don’t laugh” he was beyond frustrated, he wanted to build a hole in the ground to jump on it, he have never felt this vulnerable, he thought it was ridiculous “You know what - forget it. It’s ridiculous” he quickly opened his laptop to pretend to proceed his work.
You noticed Bruce’s uncomfortableness. How his feelings were genuine but he instantly regretted manifesting them. You knew it wasn’t a common thing for him to do. How he was genuinely jealous of you and how embarrassed he was for expressing it.
And you thought it was cute. How a big guy like him (both on name and body) would easily fall apart over something so little. Bruce was always impressing you. That moment all doubts you had were gone. That little voice in your head saying that you weren’t enough disappeared. There was no Batman. The was no fear of relationship. You wanted to assure him that his feelings weren’t ridiculous.
So you got up from your chair at the table across from him. He noticed your movement but decided to focus on the blank screen of his laptop to pretend to be occupied. You made your way to him. You took all the courage you had. And sit on his lap. Surprising him he quickly turns his attention from the screen to you.
You gave him a sweet smile and cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look into your eyes.
“Well - I like you better than him” was all you could say. You couldn’t think of something nicer or more romantic to say. All you wanted to do was assure him there was no need for jealousy. You just wanted to assure him you liked him. And hoped he liked you too.
So you leaned in and closed the gap between your lips. He was quick to return the kiss. And in seconds you were in perfect balance. Like he was waiting to feel your lips for ages. The kiss was slow, you both proceeding with caution.
Your hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck. And his hands moved from the armchair to your hips. Without pulling apart you changed your position, pulling your legs apart to each side of him, trapping him in the chair.
You pull apart and you just stare at each other breathless, touching your foreheads. With both wide smiles. Neither of you said anything else. It wasn’t needed. You knew what the other was feeling clear. Completely vulnerable to each other. All the walls were down. And for the first time, feeling vulnerable wasn’t that bad.
Bruce connected your lips again. Then things got rougher. Full of desire and lust, instead of caution. You were both completely open.
The kiss heat up. His holds were still firm on your hips.
A groan escapes you when he started to give open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, your neckline. Not leaving any skin he could find untouched. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan.
“Bruce…” God he loved the way his name sounded in your mouth “how about you show me your room?”
Chapter 7 (Coming soon)
Finally!!!! I'm honestlly happy with how this chapter came out.
