summary: bruce gets a little too rough in the bedroom by accident
pairing: bruce wayne x female reader
warnings: brief smut, injury caused by sex, bleeding, pain, aftercare, a hundred thousand apologies
word count: 1396 words
a/n: this is just a stupid thought that came to me and then i remembered that there aren't enough awkward sex stories in the world
Something was obviously wrong with Bruce for him to be so rough and careless with Y/N.
He was always such a gentle and considerate lover for her, making sure that she was ready to take him and always putting her pleasure before his. She couldn’t have asked for a better husband.
But this was different.
When he’d slid into bed and breathed in her ear about how much he needed her, she was more than happy to oblige. She wasn’t naturally wet enough, since she’d only just woken up, and she’d figured that the lube Bruce poured onto her would be enough to keep her comfortable, but she didn’t factor in just how hard he was going to fuck her.
“Bruce,” she choked out as he held her tight to his chest, his cock roughly pumping in and out of her sore pussy. “S-stop.”
He’d already squeezed all the air out of her lungs and she was struggling to get it back, taking in pained gasps each time his hips crashed into hers. The dull ache between her legs had turned into a stinging pain, white hot and piercing her senses.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” he rasped in her ear, not fully paying attention to her. “You want me to keep going?”
“No, Bruce, I want to stop,” Y/N forced out through gritted teeth, the pain between her legs becoming too much to bear. “You’re hurting me.”
Bruce snapped out of his stupor and immediately slowed his moments down to pull out of her. She whimpered as she felt his thick cock leave her and dug her nails into his muscular arms, trying to ignore the searing pain. A hot warmth trickled from her core and leaked onto the sheets beneath her, making her cringe as she tried her best to wriggle out of his arms.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Bruce said through heavy breaths. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” He fully unsheathed himself from her and gently brushed his fingertips through her folds, skirting dangerously close to where his cock had just been. “Is it here?”
Y/N jumped and pushed herself up to her elbows to try to scramble away from him further. “Don’t touch it! I think I’m bleeding.”
“Okay, okay,” Bruce said softly as he pulled the heavy duvet off of the two of them. “I’m sorry, just let me look at it.”
He turned the lamp on the nightstand brighter and gingerly placed his large palms on each of Y/N’s ankles to gently pull her legs back open again. Y/N cringed again and looked away as he eased her legs apart, her torn skin pulling and tugging.
“You’re definitely bleeding,” he said softly, as if he was trying to ease the pain with just his voice. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay,” Y/N said, her face still turned away from him as she reached into the drawer of the nightstand to grab a tissue and used it to dab at the cut. Her entire body jolted when the tissue touched her sensitive skin and she dropped it in frustration.
“Here, let me do it.” Bruce took the tissue from her and firmly pressed it to the tear, holding her still so she wouldn’t shake so much.
He leaned forward to wipe away a tear that rolled down her hot cheek and gently kissed her forehead as he gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. She could tell that whatever it was that had been bothering him before had completely vacated his mind, replaced with concern for her.
They were both quiet as Bruce continued to compress the bleeding, stroking her hot skin with his free hand to make sure that she was okay and safe. Y/N still couldn’t look at him but her tears slowly stopped as the pain dulled into a slow throbbing ache.
“Can I hold you?” he asked gently as he slid his hand up her thigh to snake his arm around her waist.
She nodded and let him gather her into his arms, the wound pulling as she was moved into his lap. Her eyes fluttered closed when she rested her head on his broad shoulder and felt him softly kiss the top of her head.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Bruce said, his voice soft and low in his chest as he stroked Y/N’s bare back.
“It’s fine,” she said into his skin, letting him soothe her tired body. “You didn’t mean to.”
“It’s not fine,” he said as he lay them both down on the mattress, Y/N still curled up in his arms. “I promised to never hurt you and I did. I got careless.”
Y/N didn’t have enough energy to scold him or argue with them, and let the conversation drift away as she wiped her remaining tears from her face and returned Bruce’s embrace. Her fingers drifted up and down his back, absentmindedly brushing against the scars as she fought to stay awake.
“Do you feel any better?” he asked gently after an extended silence. “Does it still hurt?”
“A little bit,” Y/N replied, squeezing her thighs together to gauge the pain. “Just a little sore.”
“Hopefully it’ll heal fast.” He brought his fingers up to stroke her face and let them trail down to her jaw so he could guide her face to his. “I really am sorry,” he said, his lips brushing against hers before he kissed her softly.
“Bruce, it’s okay,” Y/N said in between kisses. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“And I promise it won’t happen again. But if it does, I’ll at least make sure you’re ready. I want you to feel good too.”
Y/N’s heart twisted for him. He was always such a generous lover, completely selfless, but she felt that he deserved moments to be selfish every once in a while. Just without hurting her and giving her a bad tear.
“Okay, apology accepted.”
“Good.” Bruce smiled at her softly and stood up from the bed with her still in his arms. “I think it’s time we got you into a hot bath.”
The hot water made Y/N wince slightly when it touched her wound, but once she was resting under the bubbles with Bruce close behind her, she almost forgot all about it. She loved that he always had that effect on her; no matter how hard a day she’d had, or how much her body hurt, something as simple as taking a bath with her husband was able to help her feel better.
Y/N sighed in content as she leaned back against Bruce’s chest, her head falling into his shoulder as he scooped the water into his hands and let it run over her shoulders. He kept his touches chaste, knowing that she would be out of commission for quite some time, massaging his shoulders and thighs, well away from where she was hurt.
“Something happened tonight, didn’t it?” she said after they were both quiet for a while. “Something bad.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Bruce murmured into her hair as he pulled her tighter to his chest. “It’s over now.”
“But you never come home like that unless something awful happens.” Y/N shuffled out of his arms and onto her knees to take his face in her hands, the water sloshing in the tub as she moved. “You wouldn’t have hurt me if it wasn’t nothing.”
“I don’t want you to worry,” Bruce said quietly as he took her hands away from his face. “You’ve already got enough on your plate.”
“Bruce, you just tore my vagina open. I think I can handle being told what happened.”
He laughed softly, just a short breath through his nose, but it made him smile nonetheless. Gently, he pulled her to sit on his lap, her head nestled in the crook of his neck as he stroked her back.
“Maybe later,” he said into her hair. “We’re focusing on you right now.”
“Promise you’ll tell me? While you’re being nice to me?”
“I promise. You just relax for now.”
With the way he was stroking her skin and holding her close to him, she couldn't do anything but relax. Even with a nasty tear in the most sensitive part of her body.
you don't have to be more | digger harkness x reader
Digger Harkness x F!Reader
Characters: Digger Harkness, Harley Quinn, Rick Flag, Floyd Lawton, Richard Hertz.
Warnings: FLUFF. Hurt/comfort if you squint. Language. Canon-Typical Violence. Cuddling. Kissing. Some grinding ngl.
Wordcount: 6.5k+
[ A/N: For this request. Oh god, you probably wanted more fluff than this. I truly don't know what came over me. Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for betaing ♥️ ily
Also, trying out new headers! Since poor Digger doesn't have too many gifs. But I'm still including text titles at the top so anyone who uses text to voice can know wtf is happening. ]
My Masterlist
Anonymous Asked: Please can I request some pining boomer, I need this tough ass to go absurdly soft at reader and have the others roast him for it.
You've spent more than half your life as a vigilante named Night Shade. After a frame job lands you in Belle Reve, you get put on the Suicide Squad almost immediately. Digger Harkness is his usual self around you— and you don't really mind. You never have.
At first, he doesn’t recognize you.
You stand with your arms folded over your chest, your back to the wall of the tent as Colonel Flag goes over the mission objective laid out on a large table. They’d given you your full suit back, but here, at Belle Reve, you’ve held off on putting your armor and mask on until they ship you out.
Digger had tuned out the Colonel’s introductions for the new recruits. He didn’t bother with figuring out who was who anymore. Plenty came and went. It seemed like he, Harley, and just a few others were ever lucky enough to survive mission after mission.
But he does notice your perpetual scowl; how your lips draw down into a tight, pouty little frown, and Digger just can’t resist.
He joins you as everyone exits the airfield tent, wind picking up as the helicrafts start up their engines.
“First go, eh?” He hollers over the whirling blades. You glance over at him.
“What?” You say back.
“Said I never seen you before. Shame.” He flashes you a cocky grin. “If we weren’t about to die, I’d love to have you for a drink.”
You arch a brow at him. Search his face for the hint of a joke. You give him the old once over as the two of you wait your turn to board the carrier. The criminal’s not perturbed when you say nothing and leave him there on the helipad, high and dry. Blackguard comes up to pat Digger on the back with sympathy as he passes, boarding after you.
“Tough, man.”
Your armor is waiting for you on your seat. The other spots are also place marked with various weapons and garb for the others. You hook your chest plate and arm guards on as the others get settled in. And of course Harkness’s spot happens to be across from yours.
His toothy smile returns. You almost have enough time to finish rolling your eyes before you receive a heavy duffel bag to the lap.
“Oof, sorry, doll!” Harley Quinn yells. She yanks the bag off of you and kicks it under the seat, plopping down beside you. When she offers a handshake, she snatches yours up before you can even lift it high.
“What’d they call you? Night Stalker or somethin’?”
You chuckle, “Something like that.”
Harley takes up your attention most of the trip, and it seems to set a rapport with the rest of the squad— if you were in with her, you were in. Even Colonel Flag seemed to glance at you with more recognition as you all lined up for the drop somewhere over the Pacific ocean.
You step to the edge of the door with your mask in hand, eyeing the water down below. A flood of thoughts crest and crash around in your skull, just like the waves beneath you— how you wished you weren’t here. How this wasn’t the time to feel sorry. You’d only been at Belle Reve a few short weeks, and they had plucked you out of your cell in the dead of night with an agenda ready and waiting for you. Waller liked your skillset. There was plenty she had planned for you— if you survived, of course.
From the corner of your vision, you see that your drop buddy is eyeing you up again. Digger saddles up to you with a nod.
“You ready for a shit show, lovely?” He grins.
You smirk at that. You reach up and finally sheath your face with your mask— A white, blank face, with two narrow slits for eyes.
Digger blinks, his grin wiped clean from his features. He looks over your mask, stunned, and the rare moment of silence has you smiling under your Kevlar face. You watch with amusement as it all clicks into place for him.
“Shade?”
“Ready for drop in three!” Flag hollers from the back of the craft.
“Wait—“ Digger reaches for you. “Hey!”
You kick off the platform smugly, plunging into the frigid water without any hesitation. Digger curses as he jumps in after you before he misses the drop zone.
—
“When were you gonna tell me?” He hisses later. You and the others shush him as you sneak your way through the foliage, using the jungle trees as cover. Digger sticks close to you as you clear a path, even though he’s supposed to be paired up with Hertz off to your left.
“You didn’t ask.”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know!”
“Shut it, Harkness.” Flag snaps over the comms.
“They caught you. How’d they get you?” He inquires, ignoring everyone. His laxed attitude back on the craft has disappeared, and the more gruff Digger you’re acquainted with refuses to let it go. Before you can answer, you hear the sound of something approaching rapidly. Throwing your arms around the Aussie’s middle, you tackle him to the ground just as a grenade launcher whizzes past, lighting up the greenery around you— and the entire squad’s location.
The mission is hellfire from then on. Digger doesn’t have time to prod you with any more questions, but that doesn’t stop him from gluing himself to your side as the two of you work together. You snatch up one of his boomerangs and fling it into the darkness, ducking to let him catch it as it flies back. By the time the sun rises, the lair you’ve been tasked with infiltrating is a crumbling mess, and you never thought you’d be this relieved to be taken back to prison.
—
Back at Belle Reve, you’re surprised there’s privileges to being a cooperating member of the squad. You throw your tray down onto the metallic table after the latest mission briefing, the rest of the mess hall cleared from lunch a few hours previous. You hunker down beside Harley who chatters away with Lawton on her other side. You’re content to eat in silence for a while, which doesn’t last long.
Digger hikes a leg over the bench to straddle it as he faces you, sliding his own tray til it’s flush with yours. He’s got on a serious face; you kind of wished he was still in a flirty mood. Ever since you got back, you’d been trying to avoid the conversation you know is coming.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He begins. He rests his elbow on the table, crowding your space with his thighs bracketing you, but you refuse to move away. You roll your eyes.
“I don’t think anyone wants to be here, Harkness.”
“No yea, but you’re not one of us.” He mutters, “You’re supposed to be out there throwin’ assholes like us into prison. What happened to you?”
You pretend your sloppy joe is somewhat edible, chasing it down with a sip from a carton of orange juice. “I was still breaking laws. Vigilante justice isn’t exactly without it’s own crimes.”
He huffs at that.
—
You were proud of the number of people you’d brought to justice. You had put half your life into training and becoming strong enough to protect yourself in such a dark, difficult world. You knew the risks. Still, it blindsided you the way your choice to take matters into your own hands finally caught up to you.
You were in Australia, tracking down a real piece of shit target fleeing the States when your search led you to Boomerang. You’d been prowling the offices above a diamond exchange; their laundering records would uncover your target’s real identity. And in the process, you crossed paths with Digger Harkness.
He stilled when he sensed your presence. The rest of his crew didn’t notice you in the darkness. You flickered on your high-powered flashlight meant to blind anyone nearby, but at their distance, it simply made a cover for hiding you.
“What the hell are you doing?” You asked from under your mask curiously. You were new to Australia, but you didn’t expect to see the pair of actual boomerangs strapped to the man’s chest.
Digger tutted, shielding his eyes. He tried to get a good look at you to no avail.
“Keep working boys, I’ve got the little lady.” He murmured.
You’d fought up and down the corridor, until you had your leg wrapped around his neck and his wrist pinned down to the floor, still holding his weapon. He was an odd mix— a long range weapon paired with belligerent fist-fighting? If the genius just had let you get a word in edgewise, the two of you wouldn’t have had to waste your time.
“I’m not here to stop a bunch of thieves.” You snapped. You couldn’t care less about a generously insured jewel exchange losing it’s diamonds. It took all your bodyweight on his chest to keep the broad, muscular man pinned. You were impressed. You didn’t expect so much strength under the gaudy tracksuit top and trench coat.
He stopped struggling and arched a brow at you instead, “You’re not?”
When he relaxed, you shoved off of him. “No. And I won’t rat if you don’t.”
That made the thief brighten. It’s a complete shift from the man who just tried to slice you to ribbons. “Well then,” He leered. “You don’t sound like you’re from ‘round here, lovely. How’s about I show you a good time?”
You rolled your eyes and shoved him against the wall as you passed. “No thanks.”
But your mission had you crossing paths with him again. And again.
Everywhere there was anything worth stealing, there he seemed to be. You nearly had your target under your thumb one night— if you caught him here, right now, in this bank as he made an exchange with the higher-ups running it, you’d have proof of the embezzlement that had been affecting thousands of people there and back home.
You loved the part about being right, but not the part about how the situation going much higher up on the ladder meant you were a little outmatched tonight.
You grunted as another large man twice your size picked you up by the throat and slammed you into a wall of safety deposit boxes. The security guards doubled as henchmen, apparently, already in your target’s pocket. You landed on your feet and evaded another lunge, but when you stood up to take the man out, he was already falling over, unconscious.
You put your hands on your hips. “Is there anywhere you aren’t robbing?” You whisper-hissed at Harkness.
He shrugged, all smiles. “You’re welcome, sweetness.”
“Shut up.” You busied yourself with the guard’s keychain, smothering the quirk of your lips.
Harkness approached you, eyeing the keys. “Go on, share now.”
He couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but you handed him the rest when you took the ones you needed.
“How’s the investigation goin’?”
“Please.” You scoffed. “Go on, play burglar.”
You made to walk away when you felt a finger catch on one of your belt loops. Harkness drew you back, boxing you in against the bank of deposit doors, but this time you’re pressed against them with a soft thud. Harkness planted himself in front of you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips.
“You know, I’m wonderin’,” He murmured beside your head, lips near to your ear. “Been really convenient, you showin’ up to all my heists. If you wanted to spend your nights with me so badly, invitation’s still open, love.”
The last thing you’d ever do while out on your mission is get distracted like this. But you’d be lying to yourself if there wasn’t something about the reckless, idiotic thief that made you want to linger. He was cocky, but once in a while he did get you to laugh.
You pressed a gloved hand to his chest and slid it up tentatively, over the large expanse of firm muscle until it came to settle around his neck. Even through the fabric, you could feel the way his Adam’s apple bobbed under your palm. You tilted your head, and your mask with it, enjoying the way Harkness tried to decipher what you were thinking from beneath your blank face.
His face was always so open, his expressions never hidden from you. He leaned forward, and for a moment you thought he might actually try to press a kiss to the painted kevlar, on the spot right where your lips would be. The thought made your pulse thrum, and you tightened your grip around the Aussie’s neck incrementally, drawing a soft groan from his parted lips.
Another, more pained groan sounded from the unconscious guard on the floor, pulling you from your daze. You pushed Harkness away in an instant, your focus returning to the task at hand. Harkness swore under his breath, and threw a glare down at the man.
“Thanks for nothing, mate.” He snapped, giving the henchman a sharp kick to the stomach, before following you out of the room in a hurry.
You were a little sad to part ways with Digger Harkness after you wrapped up your case a few weeks later. After capturing your target and turning him over to the authorities, you don’t miss the way Harkness, too, seems a little disappointed at your leaving. You had danced around his advances, never really accepting or denying. You weren’t used to distractions, and you knew if you waited it out, your work would decide for you.
He did hit on you one last time, and you let yourself laugh— fully and light-heartedly— at the thief. Pulling him into the shadows of the alley where you say your goodbyes, you lifted off your mask in the darkness halfway, just enough to press your lips against Digger’s in a deep kiss. His shock didn’t last long, arms flying up to wrap around your waist as he returned it. You pressed your body into his, a soft sound escaping you as he lifted you up with ease.
“Hope your work brings you back, lovely.” He murmured when you pulled away, still in his arms. You leaned in again, unable to resist stealing one more kiss from the thief.
“Might get bored and come throw you in jail.” You quipped. Digger heard your voice— your full, unfiltered voice for the first time. He put you back down on the ground, wishing he’d heard more of it while you were still here.
“I’ll be seeing you, Shade.” He hoped.
You were proud of what you did, but eventually, it made the wrong people angry. You went home, picked your work up there again soon after. You chased a lead that took you nearly four years of investigation to gather enough evidence for— when you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Police came for you when you weren’t out prowling, in the middle of the day, catching you by surprise.
You were sentenced to Ninety years. Ninety years for witnessing one of the most brutal murders you’d ever seen. You’d been too late to stop it, but when you tried anyway— tried to hope that the victims were still alive by the time you could take out the real murderer— you realized too late that you were outnumbered. The murderer wasn’t just some lone wolf. He’d had connections. And he used them to pin the murders on you. You escaped that night, but when they cuffed you right there, right in the middle of your day job in front of everyone, you knew there was no amount of training or quick thinking to get you out of this one. They knew your real identity, knew everything. He’d finished you with one phone call to the chief of police.
You stayed silent the whole trial, except to plead not guilty. But still you had to sit and watch as the city’s best prosecutors smeared your name and your life’s work in front of the loved ones of the people you had tried to save. The look in their eyes filled you with shame. When the gavel fell and your sentence was announced, you let the numbness spread, let it stay there in your gut all the way to Belle Reve.
You hadn’t killed them yourself, but you didn’t save them either.
—
Digger sits with wide and storming gray eyes as you finally answer his question. It’s the first time you’ve spoken about it since they locked you up, and you avoid his gaze idly. You shove your plastic fork into a small pile of sad looking mashed potatoes, waiting for him to say something.
“That’s bullshit!” He hollers, and you jump, surprised.
When you recover, your eyes fall again. “Yeah, well. Here we are. At least I got to knock off ten years, so far.”
“Yeah, doin’ Waller’s dirty work.” He snorted. “You tried to save those people. Don’t their families fuckin’ know that?”
You should feel comforted by his support— wished you had it when you were going through it alone— but it was too late now. Digger watches your brows knit together. He’s still not used to seeing your actual face. Not used to seeing the way it looks like your eyes are shining like they might brim over with tears as you try your best not to look at the thief.
“Shade…”
“[L/n],” You say, quickly collecting up your tray and standing up. “You can just call me [L/n] from now on.”
Digger stammers out something close to an apology, though what he really wants to do is follow after you as you hurry off. But you have to return to your cell when you’re done, down a corridor they won’t let him follow. He swears, shoving his tray away from himself with a frustrated sigh.
A sad whistle brings him out of his sulk. Digger looks up to see that Floyd and Harley had stopped eating a long time ago, eavesdropping in on your conversation. Both of them offer him cringful expressions.
“That sucked, dude.” Lawton says.
Harley nods sadly. “You really bummed her out, makin’ her explain the whole deal.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you never to ask the quiet ones how they end up in here?”
“Oh, fuck off!” Digger snaps, throwing his tray on the floor. One of the guards immediately moves to mediate before Digger puts up his hands, “Alright, alright. I’m done.” Harley and Floyd burst into laughter as they escort the thief back to his cell, his sour face sending them into even more hysterics on the way out.
—
The next mission would take two weeks, if you were all lucky— and you had a feeling being out in the open that long didn’t sound very lucky.
The squad’s ‘basecamp’ had to keep moving. This recon mission meant you had to pack light, and you shouldered your pack all day, throwing it down in the evenings as members of the squad took turns monitoring a mysterious facility a few clicks away. You hated that you didn’t get to know who was in there or what for— you recorded your findings in the day, and reported to Colonel Flag at dusk, no questions asked.
“Doesn’t seem very deadly.” You mutter. You sit next to Digger on your bedroll, chewing tiredly at your rations.
He snorts as he finishes up his own. “Careful. You’ll jinx us.”
It wasn’t freezing in this climate by any means, but you notice the way Digger hunches his shoulders, looking irritated. He’s got his coat and hat on, but you know him well enough by now that the man was trying to keep from shivering. You smirk a little.
“What is it with you and the cold?” You chuckle. You reach over and tug on the ridiculously wide collar of his trenchcoat. Digger frowns, snatching it back and pulling it over himself snuggly.
“‘S not my fault. Not built for it.” He grumbles.
You set up your bed rolls an appropriate distance away from each other every night, but every morning, it seems as though Digger Harkness is trying to make his way over to you inch by inch. You wake up the next day before him, only to find him sleeping entirely off his mat, in between it and yours. You nudge him awake with your foot carefully, and point out he’d be a lot warmer if he slept off the ground at night.
The night after that, you feel something press between your shoulder blades just as you begin dozing off. Startled, you jerk up, finding Digger off his bed roll again. He snores lightly as his head rests on your mat and you ease your tensed arms. You watch him sleep for a few minutes there in the dark. Eventually, you lie back down, careful not to wake him as you return to your sleeping position, his face nudging the spot between your shoulders again with a sleepy rumble. You don’t move closer to him, but you settle for not pulling away tonight either.
—
During the day, you’re forced to pair up with Harley. It’s a lot of walking, and you’re surprised to find there’s someone in the group who complains more than Digger. Harley Quinn can’t seem to enjoy silence, so you let her fill it up as the two of you traverse the woods.
“So, what’s with you and Boomer?” She finally asks. You’d been waiting for it ever since the day in the mess hall. You grip the straps of your canvas bag awkwardly, wishing you’d kept your mask on instead of leaving it on your hip.
“He talks about his old girls but he don’t ever talk about you.”
“No?” You arch a brow. “Probably because I’m not his old girl.”
“Yeah, well. I figured it either meant that, or...”
“Or?”
When she levels you with a prodding squint, you huff.
“I… met him once. Before Belle Reve.”
“Once?” The crime queen laughed. “Please. You two look like best buds.”
You shrug.
“Or mooore?” She croons, her face getting dangerously close to yours. You scrunch up your nose, willing yourself not to betray anything on your face. God, you wish you had your blank one on.
“Look, I lived in Sydney for a few months. We— crossed paths a lot.”
“I bet you did.” She cackles. She doesn’t seem to mean anything terrible by it besides the obvious, so you let her think what she wants, leaving the topic at that.
—
That night, you grind your teeth as you try to will yourself to sleep. It’s only your second mission, but the week of constantly moving and the threat of someone opening fire at any moment has exhausted you. You keep your arms crossed as you lay on your side, your mind racing with a million anxious thoughts like it always did when you couldn’t sleep— how you wouldn’t be here if you were better, how you were really just a dog now, sleeping out in the cold, waiting for commands. When it was all over, if you lived, they would plop you back in your cell, and you’d still have decades to go.
You’re snapped out of your downward spiral when an arm lands down over your waist. You jump, stopping yourself before you elbow Digger in the face and knock out his teeth. You scowl; maybe you should punch him awake. You’re about to open your mouth to say something when he flexes his arm, dragging you backward across the mat. With a soft yelp, you’re met with Digger’s broad body flush to yours, his bearded face pressing into the nape of your neck.
“Harkness. Digger.” You hiss, poking his arm faintly. Digger mumbles something unintelligible, his arm relaxing again. Still, he’s spooning you in his sleep, without any sign of rolling back over. You sigh.
Shit. It bubbles up in the back of your throat— a sob that you quickly snuff out. You press your lips together pathetically.
The thought of a life sentence in Belle Reve, the thought of the loneliness that came with it— You knew it would be even worse than the loneliness you’d felt even before your sentence. You were like every other vigilante; your secrets had made you keep everyone at arm’s length. Harkness had been the last person you’d ever bothered to let in, however briefly. And here he was, still offering you the affection you never knew how to ask for, even in his sleep.
You carefully lift his arm, settling it back down over your bicep until Digger was hugging you comfortably. You press back against him, drawing a pleased sound out of the slumbering thief. Closing your eyes, you relax, finally letting yourself drift off to sleep too.
—
You’re not plagued by dreams. Instead, you wake up, realizing blearily that you slept through the entire night without stirring. Which was good for your exhaustion, but bad considering the fact that you should be on your toes— what with the suicide mission and all.
You’ve also missed something else, because when you sit up and yawn, you pick up on a joke you’ve just missed.
Harley Quinn is in titters on her bedroll as she hugs her stomach, her laughter bringing her to near tears. Lawton is also doing little to contain himself.
Then you remember Harkness, and how his arm was suddenly very absent. You turn around to look at the thief and come face to face with his beet red expression as he glares over at his friends. He’s already sitting up, flustered, his cap askew on top of his curls.
“I didn’t know koala bears got as big as you, Boomie!” Harley teases in between breaths. “Big ole bear clinging to his tiny little tree.”
“Alright. Alright already!” He snaps. You’re surprised when he gets up, saying nothing as he stalks off into the treeline and away from the rest of you.
You don’t mind Harley’s teasing, but when one of them— the tall lanky one they call Blackguard— tries to ask you if Harkness greeted his little tree with some morning wood, you shoot him a vicious glare, shutting the bleached blond up quickly.
—
Digger drags his heels for the rest of the day. Flag dishes out directives, and Digger rolls his eyes when he hears he’s paired up with Lawton on surveying duty.
His attention is split, halfway between the mission, and you.
Digger had stirred when you shifted his arm last night. He was ready for a jab to the gut, when instead you decided to pull him closer. He opened his eyes faintly, confused, when an odd sound got caught in your throat. He’d heard it before in the mess hall, when you had swallowed thickly and excused yourself from the table.
From his position, he couldn’t see your face. But he’d been memorizing it— every chance he could sneak a look, in the briefing room or out here, where you seemed to not want to wear your usual face anymore. He didn’t mind one bit; he always imagined you with a pretty face he could stare at all day under all that Kevlar. And he was thrilled to find out he was right.
But Digger had a feeling. There was a reason you didn’t want to wear it anymore.
A pang of guilt hit him; he always figured only the people closest to you ever got to see your real face. He’d never been one of those people, as hard as he tried in his own way, back in Sydney. Belle Reve stripping you of your uniform and mask by force didn’t feel like he’d won the right to finally know who you were.
It just felt like another thing he’d stolen.
He listened as you squashed whatever emotion tried to overwhelm you. Digger stayed utterly still as you settled back against his front, your warmth radiating through all the many layers between you. He felt the way his ears flush and heat up against the cold night air, but he didn’t dare break this spell that had come over you by being his usual, overbearing self.
You seemed to drop off to sleep soon after that, and Digger finally let himself press his face to your neck carefully, committing the feeling of you in his arms to memory with a hum.
“—Have you even heard a goddamn word I’ve said, Boomerang?” Colonel Flag scowls. He taps a finger against the butt of a rifle slung across his chest irritably.
“Yeah, yeah. Take a lap around the base and let Lawton do the picture taking. What the fuck else is new.” Digger waves off.
“And rest up early when you get back.” Flag adds, ”I’m putting you and [L/n] on the midnight watch this rotation.”
Digger blinks, “— What? Why?”
“You’re really gonna complain, man?” Lawton drawls as he waits for the two other men to wrap up. Digger smothers his grin as he hurries after the marksman, ignoring the way Flag shouts a few more last minute orders after them.
—
As it turns out, the usual pair who had been taking the midnight watch on this mission had been compromised. Something about an old landmine on the other side of the base and an unfortunate misstep. You were all down two squad members, and now everyone’s duties were being shifted around.
You sigh loudly as you stop in front of Harkness, throwing your pack on the ground beside him. He sits on the sloping forest floor, binoculars in hand, your little stake out area all ready for your late night shift.
“How’s the watch?” You greet, taking a seat beside the Aussie. You snatch up the binoculars from Digger and aim it at the facility.
He mumbles something gruffly.
“Hm?”
“Said I’m tired of this fuckin’ weather!” He gripes.
In reality, Digger’s been nervous of you approaching ever since he set up about an hour earlier. He couldn’t get any of the rest Flag recommended— Not while it was cold, and not when the realization that he’d be spending the entire evening with you alone hit him.
Fuck! He’d looked like a fucking moron clinging to you this morning.
Your soft chuckle draws you from his bitter thoughts. “You want my jacket?”
Digger rolls his eyes, but quirks a smile all the same. “Fuck off.”
“I can see you shivering from here.”
He waves you off. Putting the binoculars’ strap around your neck, you stand and brush the bark and moss from yourself before kicking Digger’s ankle. He gives you a questioning look as you do it again, waiting for him to get the hint.
His confusion soon melts into surprise. His eyebrows shoot up as you turn, taking a seat down snuggly between his knees.
Reaching behind yourself, you tug Digger’s coat open, pulling the large edges around yourself. It takes a little shifting around, but soon the two of you are tucked comfortably inside his jacket, your back pressed squarely to his broad chest.
Digger thinks his lip might split the way he can’t stop grinning. He rests his chin on your shoulder, any hesitancy about touching you totally evaporating. You sigh as he draws around you, his large arms enveloping your entire middle. The two of you fall silent as you let the shared heat generate and warm you both up. You stay like that for an hour, then two, only shifting to stretch a muscle here or there, but always returning to the warmth of Digger’s coat.
“I, er— about this morning.” Digger mumbles after a while. You’d been so content where you were you realize you'd almost nodded off for a moment. You turn your head sleepily, and in doing so are met with his cheek pressed against yours. “They’re assholes.”
You tilt your head, rubbing your cheek against his beard. “They can have their fun.” You muse. It’s true— you didn’t mind Harley or Lawton one bit. You had your own reservations about opening up; but they had nothing to do with it. You rarely cared about what other people thought or assumed. You’re about to propose that the two of you can have your own fun, when the tip of Digger’s nose finds yours by accident, and you burst into laughter at how cold it is. You quickly muffle it, what with the covert operation still going on.
“What?” The Aussie whined. He slips his hand into the coat, snaking his fingers underneath as many layers as he can find. You yelp.
“Fucking freezing.” The shock of his cold palm to your stomach makes you wriggle against him, clamping a hand down over his. “You bastard.”
A grin presses to your neck. “But you’re so toasty. Perfect place to warm my hands up.”
You’ve given him what he wanted, your head falling back onto his shoulder as you tried to squirm away. Digger takes the opportunity to press a kiss to your lips.
You gasp, stilling, but soon relax against his bold touch. You let your eyes flutter close, your muscles relaxing as you kiss him back.
Digger’s hand warms quickly against your flushed skin as his thumb draws idle patterns on your stomach. You move your mouth against his carefully, and he’s content to let you set the pace. Ever since you’d turned up, you’d been all Digger could think about back in his cell alone, his thoughts drifting to the typical, cocky ideas he had— But he also dared to imagine you’d want to continue the fleeting, tentative thing you had shared over four years before. He felt pathetic, still clinging to the memory of that goodbye kiss. But it wasn’t anything like his usual dalliances. You were something special. Something much better than he was.
You feel the pull of Digger’s mouth turning into a frown. You open your eyes gently to see him scowling as he opens his.
“What’s wrong?” You murmur, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. He shakes his head.
“Nothin’.” He says. “You just… never came back. Figured you didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” You press on, pulling back to search his face.
But you can put it together yourself. His expression is an open book to you, as it always has been.
“I got caught up in my work.” You confess. “I always do.”
He huffs. “Don’t I know it.”
“But I— I saw you keeping busy too,” You tease, biting back a grin. “Finally hit up every bank in Australia. Fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeah, you were keepin’ tabs on me?” Digger’s smile widens.
“Maybe.”
“Then… Did y’know I came over?” He finally asks, after a moment. “Cleaned out a few U.S. banks too.”
“I heard,” But then, more somberly, “Heard you got picked up.”
And a little time later, you did too. It never crossed your mind they would ship you off to the same place that held Digger. You sigh as you let your head rest on his shoulder again. “Not that I minded.”
“Hey.”
“—Because… I think I’d have honestly gone insane if you weren’t here.” You finish. And you watch the way his affronted expression shifts back into that pleased, soft look he gives you so often— the one he thinks you don’t notice when you’re not looking.
You thread your fingers through his curls and drag him back down for another kiss. It’s more searing this time, one you hope makes up for all the times you’ve pushed him away.
Digger groans. He curls around you further, his hand sliding over your skin as he parts his lips. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and it meets yours with a hot swipe. You part for him in return, shivering as the two of you begin to suck and lick into each other’s mouths with more zeal, the binoculars and mission forgotten for a moment.
“Shade…” He murmurs. And you forget that you wanted to put that name away— wanted to throw your mask into the ocean and never call yourself that again. You didn’t deserve the persona anymore. But you’d missed the way his little nickname for you sounded on his tongue. You swipe at it again, taste it. Maybe you didn’t mind keeping the name if he was the one saying it.
Digger draws a moan from you when the hand beneath your shirt drifts upward, his palm closing over your breast. He kneads it slowly, fingers pressing together to pull the flesh under his touch firm. You lean back more. You push against the ground with your heel as you try to make any space between the two of you disappear. The Aussie makes another deep growl against your mouth when you tilt your hips, the motion making you rear brush up against his groin. Digger grinds back against you without hesitation. You don’t think it’s possible for him to squeeze his arms around you any tighter, but he does. You whimper when he lifts you off the ground, onto his lap where he can roll his hips against you with more of that slow, heated rhythm.
An incredibly awkward cough rings out.
You gasp, yanking away from Digger.
Colonel Flag stands a few feet away from the two of you with Lawton at his side. You feel yourself flush as Digger feels more inclined to roll his eyes.
“Oh, what now.” Digger snaps.
“Rotation. We’re here to uh, relieve you.”
Flag has the decency to look away while you remove yourself from Digger’s lap. Lawton, on the other hand, snorts at Flag’s mention of ‘relief’.
“Koala’s too busy clinging to his tree again.” He chuckles.
Digger scowls as he stands up. He makes sure to close up his trenchcoat over his front as he collects himself.
“That’s racist, mate.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “Man, shut up and get back to camp. Before she doesn’t feel like cuddling up to you no more.” He adds pointedly.
Flag nods at you curtly while you hurry by with an apology, and Digger soon follows after you.
You wait until you’re both out of the Colonel and Deadshot’s sight, before you grab Digger’s hand and pull him against a tree. You allow him to crowd you against it, grinning up at him as you take both his lapels in your grasp.
“So grouchy all of a sudden.” You tease. You lean up on your toes to kiss Digger’s frown away.
“Everyone and their mother’s always interruptin’ me when I finally get you alone. You ever notice that?” He complains, and you definitely don’t consider it a pout.
“Well, no one’s around right now.” You point out. You slip your hands into his coat again, hooking your fingers into his waistband. When you pull him closer, Digger grunts at the way your knee slides up between his legs, your thigh meeting his middle, where he’s still hard from earlier. You arch a brow at him. “We don’t have to head back to camp right away, do we?”
The Aussie flashes you a megawatt grin so bright you think his gold tooth might light up. He leans down and captures your lips again. As he kisses you, he reaches down and plucks you up easily, his hands cupping the back of your thighs until your legs are wrapped around his waist, your back to the tree.
He pulls away for a moment to take another look at your face— how it’s bare, open, and staring back at him with more affection than he ever let himself imagine.
“Think I’m a bad influence on you, love.”
You grin. “Oh, please. Like I always followed the rules.”
Summary: You and Lena have to work on Valentines Day, so you surprise her by having a movie marathon and eating takeout at home..
WARNINGS: Fluff, kissing.
Word Count: 282
Lena put her key into the apartment door, letting out a sigh as she turned the key making the door unlock, she quickly turned the knob making the door open, letting out another sigh as she walked into her apartment, she quietly closed the door so she wouldn’t wake you up, then locking it, she turned around and walked into the kitchen, her heels clicking against the wood floor, she came to a complete stop when she comes into the kitchen/living room area.
“Surprise.” You cheered, as she looked around the living room seeing candles lit on the coffee table as well as take out.
“I thought you were asleep?” she asked, looking surprised, she dropped her handbag.
“Well, I thought since we couldn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because we were both at work, I decided we could have a date night, watch romantic movies and pull an all-nighter then call in for work and pull a sick day.” You spoke, as Lena dropped her handbag and made her way over to you, a smile on her face.
“You’re adorable.” She cooed, as she finally stood in front of you, grabbing a hold of your hands.
“Nah, you are.” You replied, smiling at her.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” she asked.
“All the time, but I never get tired of hearing it.” you beamed.
“And I never get tired of saying it.” she chuckled.
Lena leaned her forehead against yours, smiling at you as you’s two stared at each other in awe.
Lena’s eyes fluttered closed, as did yours, both of you’s leaning closer to each other until your lips touched each other’s gently, kissing each other softly…
warnings: fluff, food, kissing, diana being very tall (she is an amazon, after all)
word count: 1342 words
request?: requested by anon
a/n: i'm sorry that this is so late but i guess that's fitting considering what this fic is about 😅
Although it had been a long time since Diana had left Themyscira, there were still parts of Man's World that she hadn't become accustomed to. She understood seasonal festivals, since she celebrated those with her fellow Amazons as a child, and was aware of the various religious holidays across many cultures. Still, there were many festivals that she simply could not wrap her head around.
Valentine's Day being chief among them.
Every year, she became bewildered by the sudden presence of roses and anatomically incorrect "hearts" before being reminded by her beloved Y/N what they were for.
"Oh, of course," Diana would say. "That day when you commemorate a martyr by being romantic."
Y/N always reassured her that she didn't mind that Diana always seemed to forget that Valentine's Day existed, especially since her role as Themysciran Ambassador took up so much of her time.
"It's not that big of a deal, Diana," Y/N said every time she forgot. "We don't need one single day to show that we love each other."
Diana understood that, but she could see that it did bother Y/N a little that she forgot and she always made it up to her. Nothing hurt her heart quite like seeing her love try to hide that she was upset or disappointed in her.
Unfortunately, forgetting about Valentine's Day seemed to be a cycle that Diana couldn't get out of.
After a day of running errands in the city, Diana returned home to her and Y/N's small apartment, ready to spend the rest of her evening with a cup of tea and some reading. But before she had a chance to open the door, the unmistakable scent of roses hit her. Something was going on, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what.
The lights were turned down low in the apartment, a series of lit candles providing what little light there was, and she could see a trail of loose rose petals on the floor leading to the kitchen table. As she approached, the distinctive scent of lamb stifado wafted through the air and her mouth immediately started to water.
Y/N was plating up the stew, sauce splashing onto her apron as she struggled to see in the low light and turned around to set the two plates on the table when she jumped. The plates almost fell from her hands as the sight of Diana took her by surprise, but they safely made it to the table in one piece and without any of it burning Y/N's fingers.
"Oh, Diana!" she said as she wiped her hands on the apron. "I didn't hear you come in."
Diana smiled and rounded the table to kiss her in greeting before taking a seat across from her. "This is all very nice, love," she said as she watched Y/N take off her apron and grab a bottle of wine from the fridge along with a pair of glasses. "But what's the occasion?"
Y/N paused briefly before pouring the wine into the glasses and handing one of them to Diana. "You forgot again, didn't you?" she said with a soft laugh. "It's Valentine's Day, Diana."
Diana was just about to pick up a mouthful of stew when realisation hit her: she had forgotten again.
"Forgive me, love," she said as she reached across the table to take Y/N's hand in hers. "I don't mean to forget."
"It's fine, Diana," Y/N said as she ran her thumb across her knuckles. "Just having you here is enough."
"But you went to so much trouble." Diana took a bite of lamb, the flavour bursting in her mouth as the tender meat fell apart. "You made this delicious meal all by yourself just for me to forget about Saint Valentine."
"Really, Diana, it's okay. It's just a silly little holiday and it's not any trouble to me. Food is a love language, after all."
Diana held her tongue, but she truly wanted to make it up to Y/N. It was just that surprising her like this would be a challenge.
The next morning, Y/N awoke to what was possibly the biggest bouquet of roses she'd ever seen sitting on her nightstand, while Diana was nowhere to be seen. A sweet, sugary scent drifted through the ajar bedroom door, rousing Y/N from her slumber and gently pulling her out of bed. Rose petals were sprinkled in a trail across the floor, showing her where she needed to go, and she followed them out into the apartment, where she found Diana at the stove, flipping a pan with a golden pancake in it.
"What's all this for, Di?" Y/N asked as she sidled up to her. "Valentine's Day was yesterday."
"I know it was, but I wanted to make it up to you," Diana said with a warm smile and placed the pancake on a short stack of others she'd already made. "I don't want you to feel left out because I forgot an important day, love."
Y/N felt her heart swell as she took the plate from her. Diana's willingness to try and learn had been her favourite thing about her ever since the two of them had met, and seeing her keep at it just made her love her more and more.
"Valentine's Day isn't that important," she said with a shrug and poured syrup onto the pancakes. "I've said it many times, we don't need one single day for love."
"No, but you went to so much trouble to do something nice for me, it was only fair that I returned the favour." Diana joined Y/N at the kitchen table and took a seat opposite her, her eyes soft with adoration as she watched her dig into the pancakes. "How are they?"
"Incredible," Y/N moaned between bites, the sweetness of the fluffy pancakes and syrup lingering on her tongue after she swallowed. "You could give a professional chef a run for their money.
Diana laughed softly and reached over the table to pick up her hand and bring it to her full lips, kissing her knuckles tenderly before letting Y/N eat her breakfast in peace while she cleaned up the dishes. Y/N could have licked the plate clean; the combination of sweet pancakes and tart syrup was so tantalising that she wanted to savour it for longer. Once she was finished, she got up from the table and stalked up to Diana before wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her head between her shoulder blades.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Di," she said before kissing her back.
Diana dried her hands with a towel and turned around in Y/N's arms, placing one of her hands on her back to pull her closer to her and tilting her chin up with the other. Her blue eyes were soft as she stroked the side of her face and leaned down to kiss her, their lips moving softly against each other as Y/N let herself melt into Diana, love for her pouring from her fingertips.
"Happy Valentine's Day, my love," Diana whispered against Y/N's lips when they parted for air. "Even though it's late."
"I don't care that we're celebrating late, or that you forgot," Y/N said as she rested her forehead against Diana's. "All I care about is that I have you."
"And you'll have me for as long as you want." Suddenly, Y/N felt her feet leave the floor as Diana picked her up and wrapped her legs around her waist. "But today, I am going to take you to bed and not let you go until I'm forgiven for forgetting."
"You're already forgiven," Y/N laughed as she was carried back into the bedroom.
"But there are other ways that I can ask for your forgiveness," Diana purred, and kicked the door closed, fully prepared to keep Y/N in her arms for the rest of the day.
summary: bruce and y/n's tentative first date gets extended when a storm floods the roads.
pairing: bruce wayne x female reader
warnings: fluff, idiots with feelings who can't communicate them properly.
word count: 2152 words
request?: not really, but i like writing this dynamic to see where the relationship goes.
a/n: i doubt anybody would ever have a problem with how fictional dogs are characterised, but i like to think that ace and titus are friendly pups who like people.
masterlist
Earlier in the week, Bruce had asked Y/N to come over for dinner. Neither of them had said the word ‘date’, but it was certainly treated like one.
The plan was originally for the two of them to order pizza and eat it in front of the TV while Y/N showed Bruce all the movies that he’d missed out on over the years, but the rest of the Wayne household had other ideas.
As soon as she’d pressed the doorbell,the front door was flung open to reveal Damian suited up for patrol, his brothers crowding the doorway around him. The small boy tried to keep his composure as his much taller brothers tried to push past him, eager to finally see Y/N after missing her for so long.
“Boys, you have to let Y/N come in,” Bruce’s voice came from behind the wall of geared up heroes.
“We just wanted to say hi to her before we go,” Dick said as he stepped away from the door first.
“Before you go?” Y/N asked in surprise. “Where are you going?”
“Bruce put us on patrol so he can stay here for your date,” Tim said and tried to yank Damian away from her side.
Y/N looked at Bruce and saw his face turn pink in embarrassment.
“It’s not a date,” Bruce said quickly. “We’re just having dinner, that’s all.”
“Sounds like a date to me,” Jason said drily before slinking off into the manor, Tim and Dick following behind him after waving to Y/N.
Just as she was about to step inside the manor, Y/N felt a tap on her side. She turned her attention back to Damian, who had yet to follow the others.
“It was nice to see you, Y/N,” he said before heading down to the Cave.
“When did he get so nice?” Y/N asked once Damian was completely out of earshot. “No offence.”
“None taken,” Bruce said as he closed the front door behind her. “We all know how Damian can be. He must have missed you.”
When the cool evening air was shut out, the smell of food trailing in from the kitchen got stronger. The unmistakable smell of toasted bread and melted cheese filled Y/N’s senses and made her mouth water.
“You already ordered without me?” she asked as they made their way towards the kitchen.
“Not exactly,” Bruce said sheepishly.
A large cheese pizza sat in the middle of the kitchen island, steam rising from its surface. The counter against the wall was dusted with flour and an empty bowl of red sauce was ready to go into the dishwasher.
“Ah, so nice to see you Ms Y/N!” Alfred said as he appeared from behind the refrigerator door.
“Alfred made it for us,” Bruce said.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Alfred said with a warm smile. “We haven’t seen you in such a long time, I thought I would make something special.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Y/N said and took a seat at the counter. “Your cooking is just as good as ordering takeout.”
“You’re too kind, Ms Y/N.” Alfred took off the apron he was wearing and hung it up on a hook on a wall before making his way back to the foyer. “Enjoy your evening.”
Once Alfred had gone, Y/N turned to face Bruce who was now the colour of a tomato. She had to stop herself from laughing as he buried his face in his hands and groaned.
“Sorry about all of that,” he said as he took a seat next to her. “When I told them you were coming over, they all acted like it was Christmas.”
“I don’t mind,” Y/N said and took the pizza cutter that Alfred had left on the counter. “I like seeing your family.”
“Obviously they like seeing you too.” He watched as she cut two slices and passed one to him. “Wait, let me get some silverware.”
Y/N laughed before taking a bite of her slice.
“You’ve never changed, Bruce,” she said around the bite of hot pizza. “Just eat it with your hands!”
“Old habits die hard, huh?”
Although Y/N hadn’t expected the night to go wrong, it went a lot better than she’d expected. Since Bruce had sent the boys out on patrol duty and Alfred was keeping track of the comms, there were no distractions other than Ace and Titus sniffing around and wanting to be cuddled.
While Titus was more wary of Y/N, having been trained by Damian to be on watch, Ace was more than happy to shove his snout under her arm and wedge himself between her and Bruce. Despite being a German Shepherd, he seemed to want to be a lap dog.
The night was spent in front of the seldom-used television in the living room, Y/N showing Bruce her favourite movies and shows that he’d missed out on. And that turned out to be almost every movie and show ever made.
“Bruce, how can you have a subscription to every single streaming service and have not even seen The Simpsons?” she’d asked at one point.
“I don’t exactly have the time to be sitting around watching cartoons, Y/N,” he said with a laugh.
“Well, fighting crime and running a company and attending charity events doesn’t allow for a lot of leisure time.”
By 10pm, Y/N decided that it was time for her to head back home. She still had the weekend ahead of her but she didn’t really want to spend the last part of her night stuck in traffic.
There was just one problem: it had started raining. Heavily.
Y/N had never seen so much rain before. As a native Gothamite, she knew how extreme the weather could be at times, especially during the colder months. But this was torrential.
Thankfully, Wayne Manor was on higher ground and away from any likely flooding but the same couldn’t be said for her apartment on the Lower East Side. She watched the rain from the safety of the living room, worrying about how she would get home, or whether she could get home at all.
“It’s really coming down out there, huh?” Bruce said from behind her, snapping her out of her head.
“Yeah,” she said, her breath fogging up the window. “God, I hope the roads are okay.”
“You could always spend the night here,” he said casually. Maybe a little too casually.
“What?” Y/N asked as she turned around in surprise.
“I can get Alfred to make up the guest room for you. I didn’t mean, spend the night.”
“Oh,” Y/N breathed in relief.
They hadn’t made anything official yet, weren’t even calling the date a ‘date’, so why had her mind immediately jumped to that?
“But I don’t have anything to change into, or my toothbrush,” Y/N said quickly, trying to make the air a little less awkward.
“That’s no problem, I can get you some clothes and I’m sure we’ve got a spare toothbrush or two.”
“Are you sure?” Y/N asked as she moved away from the window. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
“Y/N,” Bruce said and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’re family to us. You’re not intruding and I’m sure the boys will love you to stay over.”
Her heart warmed at hearing him speak so earnestly. She’d never been able to explain why she’d never felt comfortable in the manor when Selina was around, but it was all down to her own insecurities and jealousy. She hated to admit it to herself, but she hated being around them when they were a couple and she felt like she’d been cast aside, whether or not that was the case.
She didn’t care that it was selfish to think that Selina being out of the picture gave her her best friend back, but it was like he was finally seeing her again after years of being invisible. Like Bruce wanted her to be in his life again and wanted her to know that.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to his heart pick up its pace.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Bruce returned her hug and rested his cheek on the top of her head, crouching down slightly so he could reach her.
“You’re always welcome here,” he said. “I can’t speak for everyone else, but I think the atmosphere would be better around here with you.”
Y/N lifted her head from his chest, about to step away, when he gently pulled her onto her toes and captured her lips with his own. She startled slightly at first before letting him guide her, moving her hands from his chest to loop loosely around his neck, the hair at the nape of his neck just brushing her fingers. Their lips moved together softly, chaste enough to not escalate the situation but just passionate enough to feel it.
Once again, it was over too soon for Y/N’s liking. Bruce pulled away and briefly rested his forehead against hers before standing up straight again. He reluctantly released her from his hold and took her hand to lead her upstairs.
“C’mon, we’d better find you something to wear.”
When Bruce had said that he’d find something for Y/N to wear to bed, she didn’t expect him to give her his clothes. The look on her face when he’d handed them to her must have said something.
“I didn’t want to look through the boys’ clothes so I just got something out of my closet,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s okay,” Y/N said and took them before opening the door for the guest bedroom.
Bruce, naturally, was still wide awake and was going to join Alfred in the Cave but stayed up to help him make up the guest room and wish Y/N goodnight. Usually when she stayed over at a friend's house, she expected to sleep on their couch, not in a lavish guest room. But, then again, most people weren’t best friends with a billionaire.
“I had a really good night,” Y/N said as she lingered in the doorway . “We should have another night like this.”
“We should,” Bruce said with a warm smile. “I think the boys will be happy about that too. They were always asking when the next time you were coming over was.”
“Well, hopefully you can tell them that I’ll see them more often.”
“Don’t be surprised if they almost knock the door down tomorrow morning.”
They were quiet for a moment, neither of them wanting the night to end, but tiredness taking over Y/N’s body. She tried her best to stifle a yawn but only made herself look more tired.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” Bruce said before stroking the side of her face with the back of his fingers and leaning down to kiss her forehead.
“Good night, Bruce,” Y/N said before reluctantly slinking into the bedroom.
As soon as the door softly clicked shut, Y/N inhaled deeply and slowly let her breath out. The night had felt like a dream and she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to wake up and find out that it had never happened. But the bundle of clothes in her arms told her differently.
She crossed the room to the bed and set the clothes down on it before undressing. Her own clothes felt scratchy and cheap in comparison to Bruce’s. He always told her that designer clothes weren’t important to him, but the quality of them clearly did. She pulled the plain grey t-shirt over her head and donned the sweatpants and sighed when the soft cotton brushed against her skin.
If she closed her eyes, it felt like Bruce was still with her, his strong arms circling her body and the scent of his cologne filling her senses. The clothes were far too big for her, but that didn’t stop her from feeling completely at ease.
Things were still moving slowly for the two of them; Bruce was still recovering from heartbreak, after all. But a slow pace was better than nothing. Y/N didn’t want to completely ruin everything by coming across too strong, but she wished Bruce was really there to sleep next to her.
Wearing his clothes would have to do for now.
As she drifted off to sleep, her mind conjured up the feeling of him holding her in his arms, stroking her hair, an echo of his heartbeat in her ear. Hopefully the next step in their relationship would come sooner rather than later, but she was willing to wait for him.
You were a mere mortal who fell in love with a goddess. And amazingly enough, the goddess loved you back.
You began as a technician support for the Justice League, a sort of guy in the chair. Bruce trusted you enough to bring you into the fold.
Diana Prince was the first person you met on the team. It was full on, head over heels, knock the wind out of you love at first sight.
You were nervous and stuttering, a complete contrast to Diana’s calm and confident demeanor. She found your inner warrior so attractive.
10 coffee hangouts, 50 official dates, 10,000 kisses, and two botched proposals later, you and Diana were married.
You welcomed your first child, a little boy named Hunter, a year or so later. Diana was ecstatic, she had everything she could ever want. A loving husband and an amazing little boy.
Two years after that, you and her welcomed your second baby, a little girl who Diana named Antiope after her aunt and favorite warrior.
Diana’s a natural mother. She’ll joke with you that battling monsters is nothing compared to the challenges of parenthood.
You and Diana still do date nights when she’s not off saving the world. Little coffee dates, dinner dates, movie nights with the kids. You’ll steal little kisses away from the prying eyes of your kids.
You and her absolutely adore your kids, even if you have to separate them from little fights and tussles.
Diana’s favorite part of a mission is always being able to come home to her demigod children and the mortal husband who holds her heart.
