Sorry, this took so long!
I had fun with this one :)
Bruce has harboured a crush on his childhood friend for as long as he can remember. Is it finally time to make a move?
“Brucie! Good morning!” Bruce Wayne stumbled down his staircase, sleep still lodged in his eyes. The billionaire was greeted with the sight of his best friend surrounded by 3/4 of his children as she stirred a mixture in one of Alfred’a big plastic bowls.
Tim watched over (Y/N)’s shoulder, keeping his calculatory eye on all of her movements.
Jason watched from the other side of the counter, a small smile on his face.
Damian’s head was nearly lodged in the bowl. He was ecstatic, desperate to learn.
“What are you doing?” Bruce grumbled, fondling the coffee machine in an attempt to get his morning fix.
“It’s not plugged in darling!” (Y/N) called. “And I’m showing the boys how to make Eplekake.” (Norwegian Apple Cake).
Bruce smiled. “What about Dick?”
(Y/N) scoffed. “I taught him years ago.”
The older woman giggled. “Before you.” She turned to Jason. “After you.”
Before Jason could rebut, the group heard the door open and close, familiar footsteps echoing through the house.
“Speak of the devil.” (Y/N) sighed.
Dick Grayson entered the doorway, shaggy black hair framing his face.
“Dickie Bird,” she called, “come on, give me a kiss.”
“Dickie Bird.” Jason snickered as Dick pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek, leaning over Tim.
“Now now Jayjay.” (Y/N) smiled, “I can do a lot worse.”
Bruce looked at the domestic scene in front of him. His (Y/N) surrounded by his boys, doting and sweet.
His stomach twisted. None of it is real. (Y/N) just had nothing better to do and the boys need to learn how to cook nice things that don’t require boiling water to start.
(Y/N) wasn’t his. Her last string of boyfriends made that abundantly clear.
Oh, how Bruce wished she was his.
Later on, after cakes were made and banter was exchanged, the Waynes and (L/N) sat down for a string of movies, each picked by a different person. Bruce sat at one end of the couch. (Y/N) was squeezed in next to him. Damian was next to her with Tim in between him and Jason.
Bruce started with the classic The Time Machine. (Y/N) spent the entire film pointing out the differences between the film and the book. She had her arm thrown over Damian, who had his head on her chest.
(Y/N) put on The Breakfast Club and for once, didn’t say a word during the film. She shushed the boys at the first sound out of their mouths.
Jason put on Mad Max: Fury Road and Tim and (Y/N) criticise the entire plot.
“Oh I’m sorry,” (Y/N) called, “I didn’t realise you knew what the apocalypse is going to be like.”
“The only way I’d like this film was if I died and had a revelation.” (Y/N) smiled. “Oh, wait.”
Jason smirked. “Why do we put up with you?”
(Y/N) smiled. “Cos no one else can put up with old Brucie, here.” She patted Bruce, a sly smile on her lips.
“Oi! The pair of you, shut up!” Tim grinned.
Damian hesitantly picked up Over the Hedge. (Y/N) sent warming glares to the other boys, daring them to utter a word. The boys knew not to mess with (Y/N), especially if Batman wouldn’t dare cross her. The youngest boy smiled contently as the film played, childlike wonder painting his face.
Bruce blinked his eyes open, the sight of Frodo and Sam climbing up what looked like a mountain greeting him. He straightened, a weight on his chest holding him down. Hesitantly, he looked down. He blushed when he realised that (Y/N) had fallen asleep on top of him, a small puddle of drool on his shirt. Bruce felt a small smile grace his lips. She always looked adorable when she slept. He thought back to the countless number of nights they’d spent together over the years, just sleeping.
(Y/N) stirred, her lips smacking together. Bruce ripped his eyes away, readjusting himself.
“Hi.” (Y/N) mumbled, blinking her eyes open. Her (Y/H/C) mused and her voice was dry.
(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Did I drool on your shirt?” A harsh blush crept up her face as she wiped the corners of her mouth.
Bruce chuckled quietly. “It’s not the first time and I doubt it’ll be the last.” The billionaire felt himself wrap his arm around (Y/N), who snuggled into his chest.
“You’re a pretty great friend.” (Y/N) whispered, her eyes on the three sleeping boys next to them.
Bruce felt his heart clench. “You’re pretty great too.”
(Y/N) beamed up at him. At that very moment, Damian turned, his head flopping into her lap. He buried himself into her lap, a relaxed upward tilt on his lips. Bruce noticed (Y/N) ‘s smile widen and a glint surface in her eye.
The (Y/H/C) haired woman snuggled further into Bruce, carding her fingers through Damian’s black locks.
“So much like you.” She muttered, unaware of Bruce’s dark blush and soft smile.
“Mama,” Damian mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He turned onto his side, further burying himself into his “mother’s” trousers.
Bruce’s breath halted as he felt (Y/N) freeze. The arm around her stiffened momentarily. She let out what sounded like a strangled cough before her fingers continued the repetitive motion through Damian’s hair.
“You’ve got the cutest sons.” (Y/N) whispered.
_________________________________________
Bruce watched from across the room as (Y/N) talked with Dick. She was wearing her (Y/H/C) hair in (Your/Prefered/Hair/Style) and that (Y/F/C) dress which flattered her favourite features. The very same dress that had plagued the billionaire’s dreams since she bought it, regardless of the fact that Bruce thought all of her was beautiful.
Bruce watched as Max -one of his mid-level employees that Human Resources had been notified about on several occasions- pulled (Y/N) aside and started talking, despite her perplexed expression.
The billionaire clenched his fists at his side, Dick catching his eye.
“What’s up with Mo-(Y/N)?” His eldest son sipped his champagne, avoiding his eyes.
“How long have you and your brothers been referring to (Y/N) as ‘Mom’“
Dick stiffened. “Almost a year.” The older man’s face remained expressionless. “We all know that you’ve been in love with her for years.” Dick chuckled. “Dad, Clark talked to us about it.”
Bruce grunted, eyes glued to (Y/N), her discomfort in Max clutching her wrist clear, his face close to hers.
“You should go over there.”
“Ah, there you are (Y/N)!” Bruce smiled, turning on the signature Wayne charm that doesn’t even seem to work on (Y/N) anyway.
“Brucie!” (Y/N) beamed. “Last time I checked you were emptying the champagne supply with Dick.”
“I think what she’s trying to say is, what are you doing here?” Max growled, Bruce noticing that the grip on (Y/N)’s wrist tightened.
“Why don’t you let the lady speak for herself.” Bruce heard his voice lower an octave as he stalked closer to Max.
“Hey mate, we were having a nice evening ‘till you showed up.” Bruce chuckled maliciously.
“Bruce.” (Y/N) whispered, recognising the laugh from countless dark episodes as Batman.
“I think I can tell when my best friend is uncomfortable,” Bruce growled.
Max chuckled. “Bruce Wayne doesn’t have a best friend, he’s got too much money and not enough time for that.”
The billionaire raised an eyebrow. “You know nothing about me.” He felt himself grin. “And all I know about you is that you’re fired.“ Bruce grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and as a result of Max’s disbelief, his grip on her wrist had softened, allowing the pair were able to make their escape.
“Oh my god, thank you, Bruce. That guy was a heathen.” (Y/N) sighed, a faint smile on her lips.
Bruce growled. “You should stop coming to these things.”
(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“Because you’re constantly berated by fools!” Bruce’s grip on her hand tightened.
His eyes flew to hers at the faint whisper. “What?”
(Y/N) smiled weakly. “It’s all in the tradeoff. I get mistreated by some assholes, but I get to see you be your charming self.”
Bruce scoffed. “Charming.”
(Y/N) looked at the floor. “Look, uh, I can stop coming if you want. Someone needs to keep Alfred company.” Bruce felt her hand pull at him, trying to loosen his grip.
His mind was spinning. She stays for me. And now she was leaving for me.
Before he could comprehend, the billionaire pulled (Y/N) into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.
It wasn’t how he imagined it happening. But boy was it as good as he pictured. Her lips were plush and soft and he could almost feel her smile.
But it was over too soon. He pulled away, conscious of the tens of people surrounding them.
“Bruce-?” (Y/N)’s eyes were awash with confusion and- joy.
“Do you remember when I stole your first kiss?” Bruce held (Y/N)’s face in his hand, his eyes trailing her face. This is real.
(Y/N) blushed. “Of course. The swing park. We were seven.” She chuckled. “Your mum looked so mad.”
“I think I’ve loved you since then.”
“Right back atcha. Babe.”
