authors note: kind of a transition chapter, not the best, i apologize. ALSO this fic is obvi not cannon and selina kyle is not in it so i am adapting around that, some events are out of order
PRINCESS OF GOTHAM DEAD
the text scrolled across the screen and you bit your lip.
you bounced your leg as you watched the press release. usually it would be thomas you would be thomas you would be bouncing, but he was making his first public appearance today.
jim gordon was currently standing outside the gotham precinct talking to the reporters where they were all hungry for bruce’s appearance.
everyone had decided it be necessary to have thomas be there as no one would believe you dead if thomas were no where to be found either.
gordon stepped up to the mic. everyone had been in arms about your ‘death’ as you were a far different target than the mayor, the commissioner, and the da.
“it is with great sorrow to announce that y/n y/l/n was tragically murdered last night by the riddler. we know this without a doubt and we are using all of our resources to find him. a tape has been leaked of y/n’s death and we are advising the public not to listen out of respect of her family. now a word from mr. wayne, her fiancé.” jim finished.
bruce walked out of the precinct doors carrying thomas. bruce stepped up to the mic and cleared his throat, “this is the second person the riddler has hurt because of me. first alfred, now y/n.” thomas started to whine, “this is our child, thomas bruce wayne jr or tommy as y/n called him. he’s without a mother now.” you could see the pain in bruce’s face as he spoke these words as they were his biggest fears and he needed to make it seem realistic.
you swallowed hard you were worried about the two of them being in such a public place when the riddler was clearly obsessed with him.
“she was a great woman and an even better mother. i should have made better use of our time together. that’s all, thank you.” bruce said and walked back inside as the reporters went wild with questions.
your heart broke, seeing the pain in bruce’s eyes knowing he meant every word of it. tears streamed down your face as you clicked off the tv.
“would you like some tea, ms. y/n?” you heard the voice around the corner, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.
you stood up, “dotty?” you asked softly. you knew she was around, but you hadn’t seen her during your arrival last night.
“i didn’t mean to interrupt. i made you tea. i thought you might like some.” she said, walking in and presenting you tea, just how you liked it.
“you remembered.” this made the tears come falling again and your knees buckled. dotty had always made you tea when you weee upset when you were a teenager, it had been a staple comfort item and a bonding moment between the two of you.
dotty quickly put the tray down and rushed to your side, “sweet girl, everything will be alright. you’re home safe again. we will take care of you.”
you leaned into her shoulder, just as you had when you were a young teenager, “how can anything be the same?” you whispered.
“well it won’t be and it shouldn’t be. there’s a baby now. and if that doesn’t make you want to work things out with him, i don’t know what will.” she said, stroking your hair.
you sniffled, “i’m just so worried about him.”
“well aren’t we all, but now he has someone to come home to besides just me and silly alfred.”
you hugged her a final time, “thank you dot.”
your phone beeped and you looked at it. it was a text from bruce with a link to a news article titled SECRET LOVE CHILD OF LATE Y/N Y/LN AND BRUCE WAYNE? FIND OUT MORE TONIGHT
you swore, you knew that meant reporters would be swarming the manor trying to get more pictures of thomas, especially after that pressconference. there was nowhere safe for them to go in gotham. you needed to find the riddler and be done with this, fast.
thankfully, bruce and tommy would have a police escort back to the house later, but you had gone down to start analyzing the latest letter. as you were about to shut down the computers a pattern in the code caught your eye of your initials. you erased all of those symbols which pertained and it spelled out perfect, ‘44’.
you felt sick, you never wanted to step foot in the iceberg lounge or 44 below again. your last name was a legend in that club because of your father as he was known to take any hit job no matter the target, no questions asked. a year after he had killed your mother, you went looking for answers and had a horrible encounter with falcone and the penguin. if it hadn’t been for young bruce, you wouldn’t have made it out alive.
but you knew you were the only one who was going to get in, even if you were supposed to be dead.
Summary: You haven’t seen Bruce for weeks now. He’s been so busy being Batman that he’s seemingly forgotten about you. You’ve accepted a job offer in another city and haven’t been able to tell him. Will he convince you to stay? Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: Angst with fluffy ending because I need happiness.
Word Count: 4038
A/N: I finally got around to writing my Battinson x Reader fanfic! I have more ideas, but I’m in the middle of finals which is why this took so long to get to. Hopefully in a few weeks I’ll have more time to dedicate to writing but for now, I hope you enjoy this!
No matter how many times you walk up the steps to Wayne Manor, it’s still intimidating. You and Bruce had been best friends since you were kids. Your first encounter was not one you’re particularly proud of.
You were born into poverty and grew up knowing that money was hard to come by. Though you were young, you wanted to help your mom financially—that is, before she abandoned you—so you became a pickpocket. It was easy since your height made you hard to notice.
You had only done it a few times when you made a mistake. You noticed the Wayne family out and about one day. They weren’t surrounded by security, so you saw your chance. Even as a kid you knew about the famous Waynes. You looked at them and then noticed a nice-looking watch on young Bruce’s arm. Apparently, you had picked the wrong target.
As soon as you touched the watch, Bruce turned around and looked at you. You froze, your instincts telling you to run but you were too scared to move. Bruce looked confused. He then looked at his watch and then back to you, figuring out what it was you were after. Your face felt hot and just as you turned to leave you saw Bruce taking off the watch.
“I never liked it anyway,” he said to you. Your confusion only grew when he extended his arm with the watch in his open palm. You were too scared and confused to move. But Bruce just pushed his arm out further.
Summary: Reader is a vigilante-type hero who works with Batman. When a solo mission goes wrong, you call Batman possibly for the last time. Reader is gender neutral.
Warnings: Angst, possible character death, violence, descriptive injuries.
Word Count: 3693
A/N: I love a good angsty fic! It’s a bit of an open-ended ending but I liked it better than a conclusion so apologies lol.
The metal door slams into the wall, sending an echo bouncing around the space as you stumble into the stairwell. Your breathing is ragged. You press your hand against your chest and wince at the pain. When you pull your hand back, you see red coating your skin. You can feel more blood bleeding through your suit. But you try not to focus on that.
As you grip the railing and slowly descend the stairs, you can’t help but think back to how your evening started.
You had been bored so you decided to leaf through some files for the case you and your partner had been working on. The two of you were working on taking down a major mafia gang that recently emerged in Gotham. Anyway, while looking through the files you saw a strange address.
It was an address for a pharmaceutical company which made you wonder how it was related to the gang. Upon further research, you discovered the company didn’t exist until a few months ago – similar timing to when the gang started to gain traction. You decided to visit the address in the file just in case you saw anything.
You dressed in your vigilante uniform which consisted of a skin-tight dark purple suit, a matching mask for your eyes, a utility belt with double holsters for your guns and black boots. You didn’t want to be caught off-guard in your civilian clothing. A dagger also sat tucked away in your right boot in case you ran out of bullets.
The address led you to a building on the outskirts of the city. Parking your motorcycle in an alleyway, you climbed the building opposite the one you were staking out. For the first hour you didn’t see anything and when you were about to pack it up, two black vans pulled up in front of the building.
Grabbing your binoculars, you watched as a group of men piled out of the vans. Your jaw had dropped when you realized that some of them were the leaders of the organization. By some incredible coincidence, you had stumbled upon a covert meeting arranged by the gang. You immediately pulled out your phone to call your partner, but they didn’t pick up. You tried a few more times before giving up.
You saw the men entering the building and decided that this could be your one shot at stopping these guys once and for all. Cursing, you watched as the men entered an elevator and got off on the top floor before you descended from your spot. Your first mistake of the night.
The elevator was guarded by two men which you easily took down with your guns. On the ride up, you counted your ammunition and prepared yourself. When the doors began to slide open, you hid in the corner of the elevator and waited for the guardsmen to come to you before striking.
Bullets flew around the room and one managed to graze your arm, but overall, the fight was over before the others had a chance. You locked eyes on a closed conference room and noticed movement in the room. Taking a quick breath, you broke down the doors and faced off with the leaders of the mafia.
They had time to prepare for you but they didn’t accommodate your speed as you dashed around the room, narrowly missing bullets aimed at you. You were doing well, either shooting your targets or taking them on in hand to hand combat and no one had managed to land a hit on you. You tossed aside your guns when you ran out of ammo and eventually found yourself facing off with the last man.
You unveiled your dagger and sliced his neck, his blood spewing on your suit, but you got distracted. You thought you had taken them all out and only realized your mistake when the gunshot rang out. You were quick to react but not quick enough as a bullet lodged itself in your chest. A gasp slipped past your mouth at the pain. You turned to see one of the men on the floor with a gun pointed at you and you tossed your dagger at him, officially taking him out. But the damage was done.
Your wound wouldn’t excuse any sloppy work, and so you tied the men up before leaving. You never wanted to kill your victims unless you had to and you figured they’re worth more alive than dead anyway. You decided you would call the police once you left the scene, knowing that the criminals weren’t going anywhere. The blood loss was beginning to take root as your head felt dizzy. In your weakened state, you foolishly thought that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator. Boy were you wrong.
And that’s how you find yourself trying to walk down six flights of stairs while severely injured. You manage to reach the fourth floor but when you walk down the stairs to continue, you almost fall. Instead, you stop on the landing in between staircases, deciding to catch a break.
Panting, you lean against the white brick wall and slide down until you’re sitting. You try not to let fear or panic take hold of you. Instead, you take out your phone, though the touch screen is difficult to use with your bloodied fingers, and dial the one person who wanted to hear from.
You pray that your partner picks up the phone. You know they’re on patrol, but still you hold out hope that the ringing will stop. And then it does and your breath catches.
“Hello?” His voice is as deep as always. You suspect that it’s exaggerated to protect his identity, though you’ve never gotten him to admit it. Hearing his voice instantly calms your rising panic. In the background, you can hear the loud noise of an engine which you suspect is coming from the Batmobile. You had adopted that name for the vehicle, despite Batman’s protests. Though you think he secretly likes it.
“Hey Batboy,” you reply, managing a smile through your pain, even though he can’t see you. You imagine him behind the wheel, his gloved hands holding it tight. You imagine his bright eyes focused on the road before him, his serious demeanor on display.
“I’m sorry I missed your calls earlier, I hope it wasn’t important,” he says and it takes you a moment to remember what he’s talking about. When you do, you almost laugh. Not too important, just led to me bleeding out on some dirty floor. Though you don’t hold him responsible. You don’t have the energy for grudges. And after all, it was your choice to act.
“It’s okay, I handled it,” you say.
“I’m on patrol, what do you need?” Straight to the point as always. Though his directness can come across as rude, you never let it get to you. You know he means well and that he just isn’t a naturally positive person. Luckily, you are.
“Can’t I say hello to my partner?” You don’t want to talk to him about your situation because you’ve already come to terms with it. You wouldn’t make it. Even if you told him now, he’d still be too late. You remain calm even though your heart is begging you not to give up. You don’t want to die. But your fate is already sealed. Before you go, you just want to hear from your partner.
“I don’t have time for this. Call me back if it’s important,” he says and you almost cry out in a state of panic.
“Wait!” you say, letting too much desperation slip past your lips. You try to recompose yourself. “Please, it is important.” You wait with bated breath as you hear him sigh.
“What is it?” A sigh of relief escapes your lips, though you tense up again as your wound sends a wave of pain throughout your body. You bite your lip to keep from crying out as you put more pressure on the gunshot wound.
“I have new information on the mafia gang.” You try to focus on your conversation but your mind feels fuzzy and you find yourself staring at the brick wall in front of you. That plain, cold looking wall will be the last thing you see before you die. The thought causes your eyes to blur with oncoming tears. You had forgotten about the call before Batman spoke up.
“Y/N? Are you still there?” he asks, a slight concern in his voice. You smile and ignore your tears as one slips down your cheeks.
“Yeah sorry,” you clear your throat and enter your professional state. “I was going through some of our files when I found an address for a pharmaceutical company that I linked to the gang. The building is located on the outskirts of town, so I decided to stake it out.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing at first, it looked like a normal building. But then two vans pulled up containing the leaders of the gang. I think it was a covert meeting spot.”
“Wait, what did you do?” His voice sounds suspicious and worried as if he’s figuring out exactly what you did.
“About that…” you nervously chuckle, waiting for his accompanying anger.
“You didn’t.” His voice is hard and you imagine a fire in his eyes. Eyes that you find yourself staring into all too often and yet it’s never enough.
“It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, I had to!” you argue, wincing again as you move and are reminded of your pain.
“You should have called me first!” Again, you want to laugh at his cluelessness. Some detective.
“I did,” you say. You’re met with silence as he takes in the news.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Your phone calls.” You can picture his shoulders slumping with guilt. “You still should have waited for me.”
“I didn’t want to risk losing them,” you admit. There’s another moment of silence as he prepares to ask his next question.
“What happened?” You then explain to him how you fought your way through the gang, leaving out the part where you wound up with a bullet lodged in your chest.
“Wow, I’m impressed.” You feel a little silly for the pride that suddenly swells in you at the sound of that, along with your blush. “So the gang’s taken care of.”
“Yeah, they’re now officially the GCPD’s problem.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” he says. He’s always so professional, so uptight. You often try to loosen him up and have even managed to make him laugh a few times, which remains some of your proudest moments, but it never lasts. You wonder if you were around him more, in a not-so-professional manner, if you could add more positivity in his life. Too late for that now. “If that’s everything, I should get back to work.”
Your breathing picks up at the idea of him leaving you. You try desperately to think of a way to keep him on the line. Unfortunately, only one idea comes to mind.
“Please wait!” you cry out, sounding even more desperate than the last time. It’s getting too tiring to contain your emotions. You prepare yourself to tell him and then – “I lied to you.”
“What?”
You take a deep breath and smile sadly. “I…they got me,” you say. “They got me good, Batman.” In moments like these, you wish you knew his real identity. You wish you knew his real name. Calling him ‘Batman’ feels impersonal. But I guess you weren’t meant to know him personally, and you respect his right to privacy despite him knowing your identity.
Another moment of silence passes as Batman struggles to say something. “Are you okay? Where are you?” His voice sounds more concerned. You imagine his mouth turned down slightly. You wonder if his eyebrows are creased under his mask.
“No, I’m not okay,” you say, ignoring his second question. This isn’t how you wanted this conversation to go, but at least he’s still on the line. At least you’re not alone.
“Okay hold on, just tell me where you are and I can help you.” He sounds so determined you almost don’t want to tell him the truth.
“You can’t help me,” your voice cracks, but a smile still remains on your face. Somehow, you feel sad while maintaining a positive attitude. You figure these last moments should be enjoyable. At least you want them to be. Kind of a hard thing to ask for, but you don’t care.
“Yes I can, just—”
“It’s too late, Batman.” Your cheeks become wet as tears slip down them. They slide all the way down your neck where you’re finding it harder and harder to breathe.
“Y/N, tell me where you are.” It’s not his angered voice that convinces you, but the fact that you know he won’t let it go. Even if it’s pointless. Even if there’s not a chance in the world.
“I’m still in the building.” You give him the address and tell him where you’re located in the stairwell. You hear the screeching of tires and imagine Batman turning his car around. It pains you to know that despite all of his efforts, he can’t save you. And you’re not sure he’ll be able to come to terms with it.
“I’m on my way, just hold on for me, okay?” His voice is louder, trying to speak over the roaring engine. You hope there aren’t many drivers out tonight because you can’t imagine seeing that black car zooming down the street. Another wave of pain explodes from your wound and you let out a cry, too weak to try to hold it in. “Y/N?”
“It’s fine,” you say, trying to soothe the worry you hear. But your lie isn’t fooling either one of you.
You hear a growl sound from the phone. “Goddammit Y/N, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have gotten to you quicker.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” you say,
“Stop talking like that, you’re going to be fine.” His insistence makes you wish he was right. You can barely keep your eyes open, trying to focus on a crack in the opposite wall to ground yourself. But it’s hard.
“It’s okay, Batman. I wasn’t even going to tell you at all because I knew this would happen. I’ve accepted it.” Even as the words leave your lips, there’s still a small part of you screaming to keep fighting. The pain is slowly drowning it out.
“You can’t just give up, I told you I’m on my way,” he says. “And why did you call me then? To tell me about the gang?”
“I…I didn’t want to be alone,” you admit and you feel a small weight lift off of your shoulders at telling the truth. You decide to keep going. “And I wanted…I wanted to hear your voice, one last time.”
Batman doesn’t say anything for a moment and you’re almost afraid you’ve scared him off, when his voice crackles to life, “Y/N—”
“I only wish I could have seen you too.”
“You will,” he insists. “You will when I come to help you. I’m almost there, just another minute—”
“Batman I need to tell you something.” The urge grips you hard to tell him everything you’ve always wanted to say. You can feel blood leak into your lungs and you know it’s only a matter of time before you can’t speak at all.
“No, you can wait to tell me in person.”
“I can’t.” You can feel blood start to bubble up into your throat. The pain is fading away, which only means that your brain is starting to shut down. “Batman—”
“Y/N don’t do this—”
“I love you.” The words echo in your mind and you smile knowing that you’ve said it. At least he’ll know. Even if you can’t be with him, even if he doesn’t love you back, at least he’ll know.
“Y/N.” Batman seems to be at a loss for words. You can’t tell if that means he wants to reject your feelings or if he’s just surprised, but it doesn’t matter. You start to cough up blood and your arm feels heavy as if you were holding up a brick instead of a phone. You stare at the blank wall and try to imagine that Batman is in front of you. You want that to be your last sight.
“Goodbye,” you manage to get out just before your thoughts dissolve into air and your eyes finally close.
“No wait Y/N—” Batman’s yelling falls on deaf eyes as your arm drops to the floor, your phone still in your hand but your grip has gone slack. Batman’s voice echoes in your mind as you finally allow the darkness to consume you.
†††
“Y/N? Y/N!” Bruce yells but gets no response. “Fuck!” He presses down even harder on the accelerator, so much so that it might be touching the floor. That doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing that matters.
Bruce refuses to hang up the call in case he hears something, anything on the other end. As Bruce zips down the streets of Gotham, he can’t help but feel angry. Angry at you for giving up and for not believing he could save you. Angry at himself for not answering your calls earlier and for letting you get hurt. Angry at the world for trying to take away one more fucking person that Bruce loves.
The moment you said those three words, Bruce almost stopped breathing. It wasn’t fair, he thought. He finally finds out that the person he loves loves him back and you’re on your deathbed. Maybe if he had let go of his fears and told you earlier, the two of you would have been happy together.
Stop, he scolds himself. There’s still hope for that. They’re not dead.
Bruce hopes that he’s right. He’s about to find out as he pulls in front of the building you’re in. So close, Bruce had been so close. He told you he was coming. Why didn’t you wait for him?
He doesn’t even turn off the engine of the Batmobile (your nickname for his car) as he opens his door and dashes towards the building. Time seems to speed up and slow down all at once as Bruce runs towards the entrance to the stairwell and keeps on running.
He runs as fast as he can until he reaches the platform you said you were at and he has to take a step back at the sight before him. Slumped against the opposite wall is you with blood covering your face and suit.
Time stops as he takes everything in. Your closed eyes. The blood leaking from your mouth. Your right hand lying against the pool of blood on your chest. But the sight that breaks his heart the most is your phone that you’re still holding in your left hand, still on a call with him.
Bruce feels like the wind has been kicked out of him, finding it hard to breathe. But he snaps out of his despairing trance and quickly rushes over to you. He holds one hand against your cheek. “Y/N?” he asks but you don’t respond. His heart rages against his rib cage as he rips his glove off of his other hand and reaches out towards your neck to check your pulse.
For one horrible moment, he doesn’t feel anything. He’s about to break down, letting out all of the emotions that have been rising inside of him since you told him about your condition. But then, he feels it. A faint flutter of a pulse against his fingers. He feels like he can breathe again. He can actually do something. He can save you.
Bruce briefly examines the wound only to see blood still leaking from what he assumes is a gunshot. He wants to apply pressure to it but he curses when he doesn’t find anything to wrap it in. He’s going to have to move fast.
Carefully, he scoops you up into his arms and his jaw clenches when he sees your head roll lifeless onto his chest. You’re the one who’s usually so full of life. He found it rather annoying at first, but he soon realized that you were actually brightening his life. It’s not fair.
He moves towards the stairs and hears your phone hit the ground behind him but he doesn’t have time. Bruce races down the stairs while holding you tight against him, forbidding any more harm to come to you. He exits the building and manages to set you down in the passenger seat.
As soon as he’s behind the wheel, he takes off towards Wayne Manor. He would take you to the hospital, but the Manor is closer and he can’t have anything more go wrong. He doesn’t trust that the doctors can save you, but he knows that he can. He has to.
Normally when he has you in the car, it’s almost never quiet. You’re either singing (even when he turns off the radio) or just talking about anything at all. He has never hated the quiet so much. He glances at his screen and sees that the call still hasn’t ended. Your words begin to flood his mind.
Hey Batboy.
I lied to you.
They got me.
It’s too late.
I wanted to hear your voice one last time.
I love you.
Goodbye.
Bruce’s vision begins to blur but he blinks back any emotion knowing there’s time to hurt later but right now he needs to focus on saving you.
A thought occurs to him to call the GCPD about the gang. Normally he wouldn’t care, but he doesn’t want your suffering to be in vain. But to do that he’ll have to hang up on you and he doesn’t like that implication. Glancing at you, he makes a promise.
“You’re going to hear my voice and see me again,” he promises. “And it won’t be for the last time.” Then he hangs up the phone.
Summary: While out on a date, you feel a set of familiar eyes watching you. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: Jealous Bruce.
Word Count: 3259
A/N: I’m wrapping up with finals which means back to writing and who better to start with than my favourite bat boy ;)
“‘Many have their own theories behind Bruce Wayne’s reclusive nature, with some suspecting that the billionaire is harbouring a dark secret,’” you read aloud. You’re flipping through a trashy magazine you picked up when you saw Bruce’s name on the cover. Your words echo throughout the Batcave as you lean back in an office chair you claimed as your own. You liked that it reclined.
Beside you, Bruce Wayne is seated in front of his multi-screened monitor, silently watching videos he recorded as Batman. In the beginning you would watch with him but eventually you realized it was all very similar and you got bored.
It was a complete accident that you found out his secret. You had been Bruce’s friend for years, always trying to bring a bit of fun and joy into the man’s otherwise gloomy life. You had been on your way to do just that, ready with a batch of cookies that he always says he doesn’t want but you know he secretly does. You knocked at the door and Dory let you in. You went wondering around the house and stumbled upon a hushed conversation between Bruce and Alfred in the office. Feeling nosy, you listened in:
“I don’t want to go,” you heard Bruce say. Alfred sighed.
“I understand that Master Bruce, but I think it would be in your best interest to go,” Alfred responded.
“Why? To negotiate business deals?” Bruce scoffed.
“That and I think it’s important you keep up with public appearances. People are starting to get suspicious,” Alfred said which made you confused as to what he was talking about. Then he said: “After all, you wouldn’t want anyone to find out that Bruce Wayne doubles as a bat-themed vigilante at night.”
“Alfred no one’s gonna—” Bruce stopped himself as a gasp escaped your mouth. He slowly opened the door to find you standing there with your mouth wide open. Bruce and Alfred had both looked panicked, but Bruce tried to act as if nothing had happened. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on other people’s private conversations—”
“You’re Batman?!” you shouted. Bruce and Alfred both tried to explain themselves, but it was clear that the cat was out of the bag. Or rather, the bat.
At first you were a little mad at Bruce for not telling you, but you got over it. You understood the importance of the secret. After that you wouldn’t leave him alone about it. Eventually he brought you to the Batcave, which he would come to regret as you fell in love with the place and decided that it was your new hangout spot.
Which brings you to leaning back in your chair, trying to distract Bruce while he ignores you, which annoys you. You had hoped reading from this magazine would grab his attention. “‘Some theorists have claimed to have caught glimpses of the allusive man from his manor’s windows. One even claimed to have seen him shirtless, and described the image as unbelievably hot and—’”
“It does not say that,” Bruce says before reaching over and snatching the magazine from your hands. His scrunched-up face only makes you laugh harder when he throws the magazine onto the floor.
“Oh come on, that was funny!” you say through giggles. But Bruce just rolls his eyes and goes back to work. At least you got a reaction out of him, you thought. You were desperate for his attention for two reasons: 1) Along with being his best friend for years, you also harboured a little tiny crush on the man and loved every second you got to spend with him and 2) You were bored.
You sigh before reaching down to pick up the magazine and continue reading it in silence. A moment later, you hear the elevator door ding and look up to see Alfred emerge.
“Hey Alfred,” you say with a smile, happy for new company.
“Hello Miss Y/N,” he says as he approaches you and Bruce. But of course, Bruce doesn’t glance up from his monitors. “I was wondering if you would be joining us for dinner this evening?”
“I’d love to, but I have plans,” you say with a sigh.
“Plans?” you hear Bruce say as he joins the conversation. He’s still staring at his screens. You narrow your eyes before turning back to Alfred.
“Yeah, I have a date.”
“Adate?” Bruce says. He finally tears his eyes away to look at you with wide eyes. You feel suddenly on the spot. You didn’t really plan on bringing this up, not wanting an interrogation. Like this one.
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” you say, frustrated. Bruce blushes and directs his gaze to the floor. His jaw clenches. You give him an odd look he doesn’t see. Strange,you think, but decide to brush it off. “Yes, I have a date. Which I should go home and get ready for—”
“With who?” Bruce says just as you’re standing to leave. You hope this conversation will wrap up. You didn’t exactly want to talk to the guy you love about some date. But Bruce is looking at you again.
“A guy I met at work.” His name is James, and you hadn’t originally said yes. He had come by the café multiple times and each time asked you out. Not in an aggressive way, he backed down once you said no but he still asked every time he came, hoping for a different response. Yesterday when he asked you again, you actually thought about it. You hadn’t been on a date in a while thanks to a certain crush and it would hopefully take your mind off things. So you said yes, which took the man by surprise, but he eagerly arranged a date for tonight.
“So a complete stranger.” You huff, not understanding why Bruce is giving you such a hard time about this.
“Yes, that’s how dating works Bruce. You meet someone and get to know them and then—”
“I get it,” he says, looking away. You wonder what has gotten into him. Here you were, spending your whole afternoon with him while he barely said a word, and now suddenly he’s drilling you with 20 questions.
“Well, have fun,” Alfred says, and you’re grateful for his kind words breaking up your angry thoughts.
“Thank you, Alfred,” you stress, glaring over at Bruce. He’s still staring anywhere but at you yet hasn’t returned to his monitors. He seems angry and you don’t know why since you’re the one who’s angry. “I’ll see you later.” You smile at Alfred and quickly glance at Bruce who still isn’t looking your way. You roll your eyes before heading towards the elevator, already mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead.
†††
“Turns out, the photocopier was unplugged the whole time!” James says, laughing at his own story. You offer a polite laugh and drink back your wine. The two of you are seated in a fancy restaurant, James’ choice. With your budget, you would have been fine eating take-out. The walls are draped in red with intricate black designs swirling around the room. The lights are low and there’s a candle at every table (thankfully they’re fake). Jazz music emits from the speakers, low enough to have a conversation.
Frankly, you felt out of place. You had put on one of your nicer dresses and thank god you did. You hated that you had no idea where you were going before getting ready. Your tight red dress stops short just past your knees with a slit on the left side.
“So tell me,” James says as he leans on the table. “Do you work at the café full time?”
Normally you’re not too embarrassed by your job, but after he had described his super fancy office job, you start to feel nervous. “Yeah, it’s tough to find good work around here,” you say with a forced laugh. James laughs back.
“You’re telling me. Before this job, I worked at this small office and the cubicle space was ridiculous…” You nod along as he shows you how out of touch he is by comparing a small, cushy office space to working 12-hour shifts at a café. Your eyes move from him to the window beside your table. For some reason, you start to wonder what Bruce is up to right now before mentally kicking yourself for doing the opposite of getting over him. So you force yourself to keep up the conversation with James.
“So what’s your plan?” he asks you and you tilt your head in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I imagine you don’t want to be working at a café your whole life. So what’s your plan?” he asks. Though it’s true you want to find a better job, the way he asked that question was very condescending and you had to bite back a retort. What you want to say is “My plan is to ask my rich daddy to get me a job” but you don’t think he’ll appreciate the joke. Bruce would chuckle at my sarcastic remarks, if they weren’t aimed at him of course. God Y/N stop.
As you think of a way to answer the question and simultaneously keep your mind off of the billionaire, you look out the window once again. Sometimes Gotham can look really nice. Of course, you were in the nicer part of the city but it still gave you hope to see the nice skyline, quiet streets and…
Just as you’re about to turn back to James you spot something on the roof of the building across the street. You squint your eyes and you think you see two pointy ears against the sky. Just as soon as you see them, they’re gone. You’re too surprised to speak, your jaw dropping as you realize what you saw.
“What is it?” James asks, looking at where you’re staring. You quickly remember his presence and regain your composure.
“O-oh nothing, I thought I saw um…never mind,” you chuckle, as you fail to come up with a reasonable explanation. “Back to your question,” you say a bit loudly to pull his attention away from the window, which works. “My plan is to become a writer. I’ve applied to work at a few publishing agencies and soon I’ll be sending out some of my own work,” you say.
“That would be a hard job to find,” he chuckles, and again normally you would have laughed along but it seemed more like he was laughing at you than with you. “It might be time to start considering a real, more attainable job.”
You grip your silverware and wear a tight smile. “Yeah, you might be right,” you say, not wanting to cause a scene by stabbing him with your fork.
“I’d love to read your work sometime though,” he says with a smile. Not a chance, you think as you smile back. The dinner continues and you end up ordering the most expensive meal on the menu. You already know he’s going to insist he pays for the bill so you take advantage of that in compensation for his rude comments.
The whole time, you feel like you’re being watched. Of course, you know you’re being watched but every time you glance back at the roof there’s no sign of anyone. You’re now anxious to wrap the evening up to go investigate.
“Can we get the bill?” James asks.
“Of course,” the waiter says. “Would you like to split the bill?”
“No, dinner’s on me,” he sends a smile your way. You do the obligatory dance of offering to pay yourself and as expected, he reassures you it isn’t a big deal. You think he likes flashing his money.
The two of you walk outside the restaurant and over to where he’s parked his car. “Can I give you a ride home?” he asks.
“No thank you, I’d prefer to walk,” you say, already getting antsy to leave.
“Are you sure?” he gives you an incredulous look. “It’s not always safe walking the streets at night.”
“I can handle myself, trust me,” you say. And if I can’t, then I’m sure someone will swoop down to save me.
“Alright, I know when to give up,” he says. Then comes the part where you have to say goodbye and decide how to end the date. “I had a great time with you.”
“Yeah I did too,” you say. Other than his pretentious attitude, he was still one of your nicer dates. He had his kind and charming moments, and he is kind of cute. As your mind wanders over to the building across the way, an idea pops into your mind.
You take a step closer to James and notice his eyes flicker to your lips. “I-I’d really like to see you again,” he says, his confident nature faltering.
“I’ll think about it,” you say with a teasing smile. Then you step even closer to him and lean up. He meets you halfway and you kiss him. His hands grip your waist and yours rest on his shoulders, not wanting this to go too far. You pull away and he has a dumbstruck look on his face that almost causes you to laugh. He opens his eyes and looks at you in amazement.
“I-I’ll call you,” he says.
“Mmm. See you around,” you say with a smirk on your face, adding to the ambiguity of your response. You then turn around and start to walk away. You wait to hear his car start up and leave before your eyes seek the building.
You cross the street and find a fire escape on the side. You curse at your heels but still step onto the stairs. You climb them all the way to the top where you step onto the roof. It’s empty except for a chimney and an entrance onto the roof from inside.
You walk into the centre of the area. “I know you’re up here Batboy,” you call out. “The shadows can’t hide you forever.”
A moment passes before you see a figure emerge from behind the entrance, from a corner shaded in shadows. As expected, Batman comes into the light. You look at him with a scrutinizing gaze, waiting for him to say something.
You sigh before you say, “Aren’t you even going to try to explain what you’re doing?”
“I’m on a stakeout,” he responds in a register slightly lower than normal. Again, you wait on an elaboration and you receive none.
“And just what exactly are you staking out?” you ask, wanting him to say it.
You watch him realize there’s no getting out of this without the truth. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” he says, his eyes focused on the ground. You snort.
“Yeah right,” you say. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other than scold and yell at him, which you’re about to do before he speaks up.
“Why did you kiss him?” he asks, looking at you directly. You stutter, not expecting that question.
“So you were spying on me huh?” you say, even if you already knew he was. “And I can kiss whoever I damn well please thank you.”
“Please, you don’t even like the guy,” he says with frustration in his voice.
“Oh and now you’re seriously telling me how I feel? What makes you think you know me so well?” The conversation is escalating as your voices raise.
“Because I do know you. That guy was rude and arrogant–”
“You were listening to us?!” you almost yell, trying to be discreet but your feelings are getting the better of you.
“NoI-I,” he struggles for an explanation before sighing. “I could read your lips.”
“I can’t believe this,” you say with your head in your hands. You look at him. “You’re actually spying on me.”
You see his hands clench. “I’m not spying—”
“This is the definition of spying Br-Batman!” you almost slip with his name, wanting to have a conversation with the man under the mask. You curse at this situation. “How the hell did you even know where I was going to be?”
He opens his mouth to respond before closing it again. A few moments pass before he quietly says, “I tracked you through your phone.”
You let the information settle in before you sigh heavily. “Bruce,” you hiss quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. You turn around with a hand on your head, trying to get a grip on this situation without your anger getting the best of you.
“I’m sorry but I-I had to.”
“Oh yeah sure. And why’s that?” you ask, still turned away from him.
There’s a silence before he says, “I-I just had to. I…You said you were going on a date and I just, I couldn’t just sitthere. I mean, I—god.”
As you listen to Bruce struggle to express his feelings, a realization hits you. You almost don’t believe it but it adds up. You turn around to look at Batman physically struggling to get his words out.
“Wait, is this because you’re jealous?” He freezes his actions and looks at you with wide eyes. He opens his mouth and stutters but no words form. Though he’s wearing a mask, you can still tell he’s blushing.
“No no that’s not,” he laughs nervously. “That’s not what this is. I-I was just bored and I wanted to see—I missed—I just thought that you would be staying longer and I—”
During his ramblings, a smile blooms on your face. While he’s not looking at you, you approach him until you’re standing in front of him. You hear his breath hitch as his words tangle themselves up.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” His eyes are wide and it takes a moment for your words to process, but when they do he doesn’t hesitate. His lips crash down onto yours and you stumble back at the impact. You giggle into the kiss but don’t stop. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands travel across your back.
Eventually the two of you separate, out of breath. You can’t stop smiling and it seems like neither can Bruce. “If you wanted me, you just had to ask,” you say teasingly. “Then we wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble.”
Up close, you notice his blush under his mask and bite your lip as your smile stretches at the sight. “So this was all a ploy to get my attention huh?” he asks, also teasingly.
“No, it was a real date. But I may have hoped to make you a little jealous,” you admit, a blush of your own forming.
“Hmm,” he says grinning. “I just have one question.” You look up. “Who’s the better kisser?” You scoff and smack his shoulder lightly before wrapping your arms around him again.
“I don’t know, I think I’ll need to reassess,” you tease before kissing him again, this time slower and more intimate.
Before you’re done, he pulls away to say, “Wait does this mean you’re going to kiss him ag—” You pull him back into the kiss to stop his talking and he chuckles before returning his attention to your lips. And Bruce is definitely the better kisser.
Summary: You haven’t seen Bruce for weeks now. He’s been so busy being Batman that he’s seemingly forgotten about you. You’ve accepted a job offer in another city and haven’t been able to tell him. Will he convince you to stay? Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: Angst with fluffy ending because I need happiness.
Word Count: 4038
A/N: I finally got around to writing my Battinson x Reader fanfic! I have more ideas, but I’m in the middle of finals which is why this took so long to get to. Hopefully in a few weeks I’ll have more time to dedicate to writing but for now, I hope you enjoy this!
No matter how many times you walk up the steps to Wayne Manor, it’s still intimidating. You and Bruce had been best friends since you were kids. Your first encounter was not one you’re particularly proud of.
You were born into poverty and grew up knowing that money was hard to come by. Though you were young, you wanted to help your mom financially—that is, before she abandoned you—so you became a pickpocket. It was easy since your height made you hard to notice.
You had only done it a few times when you made a mistake. You noticed the Wayne family out and about one day. They weren’t surrounded by security, so you saw your chance. Even as a kid you knew about the famous Waynes. You looked at them and then noticed a nice-looking watch on young Bruce’s arm. Apparently, you had picked the wrong target.
As soon as you touched the watch, Bruce turned around and looked at you. You froze, your instincts telling you to run but you were too scared to move. Bruce looked confused. He then looked at his watch and then back to you, figuring out what it was you were after. Your face felt hot and just as you turned to leave you saw Bruce taking off the watch.
“I never liked it anyway,” he said to you. Your confusion only grew when he extended his arm with the watch in his open palm. You were too scared and confused to move. But Bruce just pushed his arm out further.
“Take it,” he said. You hesitantly took the watch from the boy’s hand, not taking your eyes off him. Once you had it, Bruce looked around before saying, “Go.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. With the watch secured, your legs became unstuck and you took off running. Your mom had been impressed with the expensive watch and laughed when you said you took it from the Waynes.
“Serves them right, rich bastards,” she said, her eyes still locked on the watch. For days after you had felt so guilty that you decided to make it up to the nice boy. With the money you hid from your mom, you went out and bought him a present.
The next time you saw Bruce Wayne without any security detail, you nervously approached the boy. You tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, recognizing you almost immediately.
“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t have anything more for you,” he said, thinking you had come back for more.
“Actually, I came here to give you this.” You reached into your bag and pulled out a bat stuffed animal. Your hands were sweating as you gave it to him. “I-I know it’s not that cute, b-but it was all I could afford–”
You stopped talking when you saw a smile spread across Bruce’s face. He looked at you and said, “I love it!”
You were so surprised and happy, you smiled back. After that you two got to talking and eventually became friends.
You smile at the memory. Bruce had been your first real friend, and to your knowledge, you were his. Somewhere along the line you developed a crush on him which blossomed into love, but you always kept quiet. It was never worth ruining the friendship. And besides, you knew it was only one-sided.
Now you’re standing in front of his front door, with a plan in mind. You knock on the door and a few moments later, Alfred opens the door. You smile at each other.
“Miss Y/N, please come in,” he says, opening the large door.
“Thank you, Alfred,” you say, stepping into the home.
You always admired the architecture of the home, though it often makes you feel out of place. You live in a small and crappy apartment, what are you doing amongst all this fancy shit? When you were a kid, you were in shock that someone actually lived here. It looked more like a museum or a castle.
The only thing that you didn’t like about the place was how quiet it was. It made what could be a home, so empty and cold.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Alfred asks from behind you. You turn around and smile at him. He always asks you that and you always say yes. I mean, who’s going to pass up a free drink?
“I would love that, thank you,” you say, and Alfred smiles back as he always does. You follow him to a seating area and he tells you to make yourself at home while he fetches the tea. You sit in the same chair you always do.
You think back to when you first met Alfred. You had asked him so many questions, you couldn’t believe that butlers were real! He was patient as he answered every question, even the silly ones. He always made you feel welcome and never treated you differently for being of a lower class, same as Bruce.
You remember one time when you were little you had snuck out to see Bruce, as you often did. It was sometime after his parents had passed away; your visits became more frequent after the incident. Your mother never cared where you went, or even if you came home really, so it wasn’t a problem.
Alfred had made you tea and you accidentally dropped the teacup, shattering it on the floor. You got on your knees and started crying while picking up the pieces. You thought he would get mad at you or hit you. Instead, the butler leaned down and gave you a warm smile while wiping your tears away.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Accidents happen. Bruce once made the same mistake, you know. Perhaps I should invest in some plastic tea cups.”
You smiled once you realized he wasn’t mad. He took your hand and led you to the kitchen while he poured another cup. You were very careful not to drop that one.
Now, Alfred returns with the tea set on a silver platter. He takes his seat across from you and you both silently take a sip. Then, you set down your cup and get to the matter at hand.
“Where’s Bruce?” you ask, causing Alfred to sigh.
“Busy, I’m afraid.” He gives you a sympathetic smile, the same one he’s been giving you for weeks.
Bruce Wayne was always busy these days. Or should you say, Batman was. You found out about his secret life as a vigilante fairly quickly when you noticed a change in Bruce, despite his attempts at hiding it from you. You understand that Batman is important to him, and it’s important to the city, but you haven’t seen your best friend in weeks.
Whenever you came, you would sometimes catch glimpses of him before he retreated to that damn bat cave and Alfred told you he was busy. You’re very frustrated, especially since there’s something you’ve been meaning to tell him.
Just as you are about to march over to that elevator, you hear it ding. You crane your neck to see Bruce emerging wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants. Not exactly the billionaire the public envisions, but it’s the one you know and love.
Before Alfred can interfere, you jump up from your seat and call out, “Bruce!”
He turns to see you and looks like a deer caught in headlights. He seems surprised that you’re here. He knows that if he runs now, you’ll just follow. He looks helplessly at Alfred but it’s too late for that. So instead, you watch him clear his throat and look you in the eyes for the first time in weeks.
“Hi Y/N,” he says. You wait for him to say something along the lines of “Hey, sorry I’ve been avoiding you, I’m so happy to see you!” But instead, he just stands there awkwardly. You know if you get angry with him that you’ll lose your chance so you ignore your rage for now.
“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out,” you ask.
“I can’t, I’m busy,” he says and starts to move away but you step in front of him again.
“But you’ve been busy for weeks,” you say. You see guilt cloud his eyes for a moment. You take a step closer. “I miss you.”
He looks at you and you see his jaws clench. Then he’s looking anywhere but you. “I’m sorry,” he says, before walking away. Your heart drops.
“Bruce wait I—” you try to say, but he’s gone before you can finish. You’re left looking lost. You really needed to tell him but it seems like he barely even cares. You can’t say you didn’t try, you tell yourself, but it still doesn’t feel right.
“I’m sorry about him, Miss Y/N,” Alfred says. You sigh and plaster on a thin smile.
“It’s not your fault, Alfred,” you say. “I understand, he’s doing more important things. I just really needed to talk to him about something.”
Alfred looks like he wants to argue about the “more important things” bit but he knows nothing he can say will change your mind. “Is there anything I can help you with?” he says.
You look up and realize you probably should tell Alfred. And since Bruce isn’t around…
“I’m leaving,” you tell him. You stand strong as you watch the butler’s face falter.
“Leaving where?”
“Metropolis. I’ve been offered a good job in the city and I’m moving there tomorrow,” you say like ripping off a band-aid. Still, your heart breaks a little watching sadness overcome the butler’s face.
“I see,” he says. Your eyes analyse his face, hoping he’d say more.
“I-I know it’s sudden, but the offer was only available for so long and I really need the money and of course I’ll miss you guys but—”
Hands on your shoulders cut you off. You look and see Alfred smile with glassy eyes. The sight causes your eyes to sting. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I understand,” he says. Tears fill your eyes at Alfred’s kindness and understanding, even now. You wrap your arms around his middle and after a moment, he hugs you back.
He’s been the father figure you never had through the years. He always treated you like family. “I really will miss you,” you say, as a tear slips down your face. You hadn’t realized how hard this would be.
“I’ll miss you too.” You tighten your grasp for a moment before you let go. He wipes away your tear and you laugh softly. He’s still taking care of you.
“Don’t forget me while I’m gone,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. You step back and prepare to leave.
“Never,” he says, causing your heart to ache. “Don’t forget to visit.”
“Never.” You both smile at each other. Then you walk towards the door before pausing when you remember something. Turning back to face him, you say, “Oh and don’t tell Bruce. At least not until I’ve left the city.”
Alfred frowns. “Don’t you want to say goodbye?”
You look back towards the elevator doors that separate you from your Bruce. “I think I already did,” you whisper. You look back at Alfred one last time. “Goodbye Alfred.”
“Goodbye Miss Y/N.” You take one last look at Wayne Manor before you leave and close the doors behind you.
†††
This city really never sleeps, you think as the noise from outside floods your apartment. Your window is open because it gets too hot in your apartment and of course your landlord doesn’t add air conditioning units to this dump. That’s one thing you won’t miss. This shitty apartment, the broken-down building, the asshole landlord, and the crazy tenants that you run into every once and a while.
You’re packing away the last of your stuff for the morning. It isn’t much, but you still don’t want to leave any of it behind. You look around the place and think maybe you’ll miss it a bit. After all it was yours.
As you’re folding one of your shirts, a voice rings out, “You’re leaving?”
Your heartbeat picks up and you jump, ready to run when you see the Batman standing on the landing outside your window. His dark figure blocks out the lights from the city and if you didn’t know him, you would be scared.
“Jesus Christ Batman, you scared the shit out of me!” you yell. You almost let slip his real name but you recognized the window is still open and don’t want any risks.
“You’re leaving?” he repeats, as he steps into your apartment. You really didn’t expect this. After your heartbeat slows back down, you start to panic. He wasn’t supposed to know, not like this. Why—
“So, Alfred told you huh?” you scoff, slightly annoyed at the butler for not listening to you.
“Why did I have to find out from Alfred at all?” he says, his voice laced with anger. Though your room is dark, you can still see his eyes staring at you. “I mean why—why didn’t you tell me?”
“First of all, close the window, I don’t want the whole block to hear our conversation,” you say. He rolls his eyes but moves to shut the window. He also closes the curtains for good measure. You wonder what any bystander watching would think of Batman crawling into someone’s apartment and closing the curtains. You ignore the blush on your face as you start to prepare yourself for a conversation you thought would never come. “Secondly, I tried to tell you, remember? When I came by earlier?”
You watch him clench his jaw as he realizes. “I was busy.” You can’t stop the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Besides, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
You try to restrain yourself from snapping at him. But your anger’s starting to slip out after being pent up inside for so long. “When would that have been Bruce? You have been ignoring me for weeks now.” You see him tense up. “In fact, this is the longest conversation we’ve had in a month.”
Behind his mask, you imagine his face muscles clenching up like they do when he gets frustrated. You think you see his eyes look down, almost ashamed. “I’m sorry about that.”
You snort out a laugh that has his gaze quickly back on you. “Yeah right.”
“I—”
“And can you please take off that mask? I want to talk to Bruce Wayne, not Batman.” You want to properly look at the man you love, probably for the last time in a long while. You know Bruce doesn’t like to take off the cowl while he’s out, frankly you wonder why he takes it off at all. But he relents and lifts the mask off his face. His black makeup is smudged across his face and his hair is a mess but it’s your Bruce. “Thank you.”
“Why are you leaving?” he asks, and you notice a pain in his eyes that makes you sick with guilt. But you’ve been hurt for a while now, and that didn’t stop him.
“I got a job offer in Metropolis.” He scoffs. You know he hates that place. He thinks it’s too squeaky clean and pretentious. You just think it’s because he’s never been anywhere but Gotham and his attachment to this damn city clouds his judgment. “It’s at a newspaper company and the pay is really good.”
“What happened to your old job?”
Your jaws clench. “I lost it a couple of weeks ago. Cutbacks.” Which he would’ve known had he not been avoiding you.
“But I’m sure there’s another—”
“There isn’t,” you say. He looks at you and you sigh. “I’m going to be kicked out of the apartment by the end of the week. I…I haven’t been able to pay rent.”
“Well if that’s the problem, then I can just give you the money—”
“No Bruce.” You let your head drop into your hands and take a breath. “That isn’t a long-term solution and besides, I told you that I would never take money from you.” He’s dealt with a lot of people trying to get to him for his money and you made it clear early on that you weren’t going to be one of those people.
“But I’m giving it to you,” he says, sounding frustrated but also a little desperate. You just close your eyes.
“The answer is no.”
He stands still and looks at you, his eyes piercing, as he tries to come up with a solution. But you’ve already made your peace with this decision. This causes him more frustration. He growls. “There has to be another way. I mean, you can’t just leave.”
“Why not Bruce?” Your eyes start to fill with tears the longer this went on. Why did he have to make this so hard for you?
He seems caught off-guard by this question. “Because…you just can’t.” Your hopes die out and defeat settles in.
“The way I see it…there’s nothing left for me here,” you say as a tear falls down your cheek. His eyebrows furrow, not understanding why you’re thinking like this. “I’ve had to scrounge for money since I was born into this city until I finally earned enough to afford a place and I end up living in this shithole. I’ve never been able to get a job long enough to make any real money, I’ve been just getting by my whole life. And this job offers a chance to break free from all of that. Why shouldn’t I take it?”
He stares at you and it seems like he isn’t breathing. “But what about…I mean, what about…me? Am I not something?” he asks and the vulnerability tugs at your heartstrings. To have a moment like this with Bruce makes you falter in your decision, but you realize this won’t last.
“Bruce…you’re my best friend,” you say and he flinches. He shakes his head, as if he already knows what you’re going to say. “But it looks like our lives are going in different directions now—”
“I’m sorry that I ignored you, I am—” You make a bold move and put your finger against his lips. It causes your heart to race but you needed him to listen. You try not to focus on how soft his lips feel.
“Just listen to me,” you say. Bruce still looks surprised and panicked by your move, so you pull your hand away. For a moment, it looks like his face tries to chase it but you ignore that hopeless thought. “Obviously you’ve been busy lately dedicating your time to the Batman, and that’s awesome because you’re helping the city. But, it doesn’t leave a lot of room for me. For us.” He’s shaking his head but you have to keep going. “I just think we’re at a stage in life where we go our separate ways. That doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends—”
“No,” he says, his breathing seeming to quicken. It doesn’t seem like he has anything else to say. You can see him freaking out but you have to get through this. No matter how much it hurts.
Tears prick at your eyes and your voice cracks, “I’ll miss you—”
“Stop! This…this isn’t happening. You’re not leaving. You can’t leave,” his voice cracks as well. He’s staring right at you and you almost want to relent. You almost want to stay. “You can’t.”
You close your eyes and turn around so that you’re not facing him. You can’t watch the man you love fall apart because of you. You squeeze your fists in frustration. “God, Bruce, why are you making this so hard?” Your voice is raised as your emotions build up inside of you.
“Because you’re not leaving.”
“Why?” You turn around with tears clouding your vision. Your chin wobbles as your eyes move back and forth across his face. “Give me one good reason why I should stay.”
There’s a suffocating silence that fills the room. You close your eyes and let the tears fall. There’s your answer, you suppose. You turn to your suitcase and resume packing your clothes when you hear, “Me.”
You freeze with a shirt clutched in your hands. You drop it and slowly turn around. “What?” you ask, wanting to know if you heard right.
“Stay here for me,” he says and you’re so shocked by him opening up that you don’t know what to say. He takes a step towards you. “I don’t want you to leave.” He keeps walking until he’s standing right in front of you. You feel his hand hesitantly reach for yours and you let him hold it. He squeezes your hand and gives you a look of utter desperation. “Please stay.”
You try to ignore the tears you see forming in his dark eyes. “I don’t…I don’t want to get left behind again.”
“And you won’t.” His other gloved hand comes up to cup your face. You lean into it. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I just got so wrapped up in it all and…I’m sorry.” You nod but there’s nothing left for you to say. You wait as he continues. “Y/N I…” You watch him struggle to form the words but when he does, his eyes shine. “I love you.”
You lose your breath. Your eyes are blown open. “W-what?” you ask. But before you get your hopes up, you have to ask, “As a friend, right?”
“No.” He looks down and swallows deeply before looking back at you. “As more than that.” Your ears are suddenly ringing with the sounds of your beating heart. “I know I haven’t been the best at showing you lately, but I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids but I could never find the courage to tell you before now.” You wait with baited breath as you watch your dreams come true before you. “So please, stay here with me. Give me another chance, I promise I’ll do better. I don’t want to lose you, I can’t.”
A tear falls rolls down his face past the smudged makeup. Without another thought, you reach up and pull his face down to yours and smash your lips together. He takes a moment to respond before leaning into the kiss. He holds the back of your head with his hand while the other wraps around your waist. His lips are as soft as they felt.
Eventually the two of you pull apart for air. You try to catch your breath while you’re both smiling. “I love you too,” you tell him and his grin widens causing you to giggle out of pure joy.
“Does this mean that you’ll stay?” he asks, hope shining in his eyes.
You lick your lips and break your stare to look around your apartment. “Well, I’m still broke, out of a job and about to be homeless but—”
“Stay with me,” Bruce cuts in.
You huff out a laugh at his boldness. “What?”
“Stay with me. There’s plenty of space for you and you won’t have to worry about living in poor conditions or dealing with your asshole landlord.” You laugh. Bruce looks seriously into your eyes. “Come stay with me.”
“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly. You only just said you loved one another, it’s a big jump to live together.
“Of course I’m sure.” You can’t stop looking at how truly happy he is. You haven’t seen him smiling this much since…well ever. And it would be nice to be able to see him every day no matter how busy he gets.
“Okay,” you say with a sheepish smile. “I still need a job.”
“I’ll help you look for one,” he says right away. “So…does this mean you’re staying?”
“Yeah,” you say with a smile. Suddenly you’re swept off your feet as Bruce hugs you and twirls you around. You’re both laughing and the happiness you feel now makes the last of your anger slip away.
