30 Days with Bruce Wayne
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
I’ve been writing this since like August and it’s not even done but heres like part of a chapter I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
You had been working at Gotham Gazette since you were an intern when you first moved to Gotham, and now you were a junior editor. It had been your ultimate goal to get a one-on-one interview with Gotham's very own Bruce Wayne. You couldn't help but think of the story you could get about the young bachelor, and landing this interview with your name on the byline would do wonders for your career in journalism. You had arrived at the gala early and were given a "press pass." You immediately put the plastic lanyard around your neck and made your way around the velvet rope, alongside the red carpet, that led into the rented museum for the event. It wasn’t long before Gotham’s most elite began to arrive, as the press and paparazzi started to yell out questions and cameras flashed violently in every direction. It made you realize why people wear sunglasses to these things. You waited as you leaned against the velvet rope near the entrance, knowing it was no use in trying to be at the front where the paps and other journalists were, since there was a high chance of you being pushed to the back or even trampled by them just to get a headline for a shitty tabloid. You had thought about heading inside when Gotham’s favorite young bachelor arrived fashionably late, stepping out of a limo. Tall, dark, and handsome, with two models trailing behind him before joining him on each arm while gliding down the red carpet leading into the museum. Camera shutters going at a rapid speed, paparazzi chattering so fast it sounded like turkeys gobbling. At the same time, you waited near the entrance, and just before he made it into the building, you caught his attention. Your gaze held with his blue eyes felt like it lasted ages until he walked past the column that then blocked your view as he made his way in. After a while, you got bored with the carpet and made your way in b-lining to the open bar as the MC of the event came up to the microphone.
“Thank you all for attending tonight's gala, which wouldn’t have been made possible without Mr.Wayne! Get up here, Bruce!” she beamed as she waved him up on stage. He flashed her a smile, As Bruce stepped onto the stage and made his way to the podium you nursed your cocktail, spinning the ice with the small black stirrer.
“I’m honored to be donating to such a great cause, the museums in our city are truly a lifeline and go hand in hand with our libraries and the children of Gotham deserve these resources so please if you can make a contribution tonight whether it’s to the museum itself or through an auction I’m sure it’d be much appreciated , Thank you”
He spoke with a passion that surprised you, as he stepped down from the stage. Waving and smiling as pictures were taken and the turkeys began to gobble again, he made his way to the bar as security ushered off the mob of paparazzi and press. You dipped into your glass, retrieving the bourbon soaked cherry. A small victory and maybe the only one of you didn’t get a moment to talk to Gothams favorite playboy. As you chased the cherry with what little bourbon was left in the glass you felt a large frame scoot in next to you.
“ do you mind?” He asked softly as he gestured to the seat next to you
“No-” you said as you started to swallow down the smokey watered down bourbon before realizing who the voice belonged to. you gasped before choking beating your chest with your closed fist while a coughing fit erupted.
“Oh my god- Hey! Can we get some water down here!” He said flagging down the bartender as he rested his palm on your back as the bartender placed a small glass of water in front of you.
“Hey, drink this” he said pushing the glass closer to you. You nodding trying to recover from your coughing fit shielding your warmed face with your free hand before taking a sip and following it by clearing your throat.
“I-I am so sorry Mr. Wayne-”
“Bruce.”
“What?”
“Call me Bruce” he said flashing you a smile
“Y/n” you chirped
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked turning towards you placing his hand on your arm above your elbow.
“Yes..thank you” you spoke softly before taking another sip of water. As you do so he reaches for your press pass, fiddling with the plastic card dangling from the lanyard.
“hmm you were behind the rope earlier, I knew you looked familiar” he said clicking his tongue softly. His gaze meeting yours again.
“you weren’t apart of the gaggle trying to get their tabloid headline” he said matter of factly before cocking an eyebrow.
“You weren’t even by the stage after I spoke. Some press you are” he said jokingly with a smile. Before ordering a drink.
“Ginger ale but uh can you put it in a highball” he asked before the bartender placed a small napkin and followed it shortly with a glass of ginger ale.
""hmm” you hummed at the choice
“So if you’re press what magazine are you with?” He asked before taking a short sip
“Paper. Gotham Gazzette” you spoke confidently.
“Interesting so are you covering the event or-” he asked gesturing his hand
“Actually I wanted to do a piece on you” you said nervously.
“Only if you were available-”
“Oh on my involvement with the gala?”
“ well-” you were interrupted by one of the turkeys wanting to get a word from him
“Excuse me Mr. Wayne! If I could have a minute of your time-” she spoke in that reporter tone you knew all too well. When the rest of the gaggle followed her continuing the cycle of flashing cameras and tape recorders being shoved in his face, he walked away making sure the horde didn’t crowd the bar. You inhaled through your nose before ordering another Old Fashioned following with an eyeroll at the press mob.
“Welp there goes my chance” you spoke to yourself before pulling out your phone from your clutch to check the time. You huffed when you realized how late it was and that there were only a few guests still sitting at their respective tables or down the other side of the bar. A few of the wait staff began breaking down things, bussing tables and stacking chairs as someone continued on piano in the background. Again you ate the prize at the bottom of your glass when Bruce made his way back to his seat next to you.
“How many of those have you had since I got carried way by that wave of turkeys?” He asked with a smile.
“ only one I have to be somewhat conscious to get to Grant Park” you said as you took off your press pass and stuffed it in your clutch trading it out for your phone to call a ride.
“The hell? Grant Park is on the other side of town” he said in disbelief
“Well yeah but-”
“No i’m not letting you go and it’s this late. You can come to the manor I have plenty of spare rooms” he spoke firmly
“No it’s fine really-”
He crossed his arms cocking an eyebrow at you and shaking his head.
“I’m not asking, Y/n..crime is a real issue in this city and i’m not going to be responsible for something happening to what i’m sure is one of the Gazettes finest” he said standing up from the bar stool and offering his hand to you as you hopped down from your stool. You felt your cheeks flush at how assertive he was but you didn’t argue. You followed him out as his limo pulled up, the driver going to open the door but Bruce quickly shaking his head as he opened the door for you, making sure you were all the way in before closing the door. Shortly he was on the other side, sliding in next to you, clicking in his seatbelt before grabbing his phone.
“Alfred, please prepare a room we have a guest staying tonight Thank you.” The call was brief before he turned to you
“I promise it’s no trouble at all “ he said with a warm smile
“When we arrive i’ll make sure your clothes are dry cleaned before the morning” he spoke softly
“Mr. Way- erh uhm Bruce..it’s fine we could turn around and you could drop me off-”
“Y/n I thought you wanted to do a piece on me? What better time to talk than the car ride to my estate?” He said cocking an eyebrow as he grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler in front of you that was built into the limo. The waters were miniature and looked extra tiny in his hand as he cracked in open. He took a swig and more than half was gone already.
