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mistycreativelilacs · 16 days

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Can you please write a Bruce Wayne imagine where he catches her singing or something cute like that?

Welp… it only took me -checks watch- three years to respond to this, but uh… here’s a 5000 word drabble I guess.

Kitchen Off Limits

About a year into living at Wayne manor you enacted an (ever growing) list of rules. Originally the list only had three rules on it:

1. Sunday is family day. Baring any Gotham destroying/world ending catastrophes everyone is to be in the dinning room no later than 11am for brunch followed by a previously voted on family activity.

2. Family Activity planning occurs on the first Saturday of the month, activities for the whole month will be decided then.*

*Attendance is NOT mandatory, however those who do not participate do not get to complain when we spend 3 Sundays in a row at the zoo.**

**No liberating animals from the zoo.

3. Monday thru Saturday the kitchen belongs to Alfred. Sunday morning’s the kitchen belongs to Mom*.

*That means no one, not even Alfred can enter the kitchen until AFTER brunch**.

**Yes Tim that includes you. You can wait for your morning cup of coffee***.

***ABSOLUTELY NO coffee pots, mini fridges, microwaves, blenders, hot plates, or dry food storage in your bedrooms or you WILL be personally hunting down every rodent and bug that comes crawling into the manor****.

****You can NOT train an army of cats to hunt vermin as a trade off for a mini fridge.

Certain amendments had to be made to the list with each new addition to the household. The final amendment to rule three inspired the creation of its own rule.

243. If you bring a pet into the house, YOU must personally care for it at all times. This includes feeding, grooming, walking, training and cleaning up after them as well as insure they have a proper habitat to live in*.

*Your bedroom is only a proper habitat for regular domestic animals (ie. dogs, cats, fish, small reptiles, small birds, caged rodents such as rats, Guinea pigs or hamsters and snakes, within reason - no large pythons). Large animals whether native to our region or exotic must be housed in a properly built enclosure on the grounds.

Needles to say the Wayne children kept you on your toes. Which brings us to now.

You awoke at the crack of dawn this morning to prep for the day. In a not so shocking twist, Damien had lied, cheated and outright bribed several of his siblings in order to get a zoo trip in this month. The Waynes were such regulars at the zoo (and contributed so much in donations) that they’d named an entire section after the family. The Wayne Reptile House (filled to the brim with several of the reptiles you’d ‘rescued’ from Damien’s room upon Alfred’s discovery of Damien’s unsanctioned renovation of his closet). It was important to you that the children experienced even just a smidge of normalcy amongst all the vigilantism.

You’re staring into the pantry, debating whether to do pancakes or waffles, when an old favourite song comes on the speaker. This was your favourite part of Sunday’s. Once everyone realized how serious you were about the rules, Sunday morning had become your alone time. If the kids were fighting, they handled it amongst themselves. If someone had a question, they went to Bruce or Alfred for answers. Mom was not to be disturbed.

The word Mom still brings a small smile to your face. You’d never really pictured yourself as a mother but when you’d stumbled your way into a romance with THE Bruce Wayne, he’d already gained 2 of your ever growing hoard of children. You’d stumbled your way into motherhood much the way you stumbled into Bruce’s arms.

You begin to softly hum to the song as you decide to just make pancakes and waffles. With a family full of crime fighters more was always the safer option. No one wants a repeat of Tim and Richard’s destructive fight for the last cinnamon bun. You had to spend a fortune redoing the dinning room after, replacing antiques was not cheap, and your heart still hadn’t recovered from the sticker shock. Needless to say the boys were still working off their debt by assisting Alfred in the daily runnings of the manor. As you got lost in the gargantuan undertaking of cooking for the whole Wayne clan, your gentle hums morphed to soft whispers of lyrics.

Just as you were frying the last batch of pancakes the opening chords of your and Bruce’s song came through the speakers. It would be more accurate to state that you’d unilaterally declared it your and Bruce’s song. During your second year of dating you had slowly begun introducing him to the world of romcoms. One particularly chilly fall day that year saw Bruce catching a cold. You took advantage of that to force him into a binge of some of the best and cringiest of your favourites from the 2000’s. Two particular movies seemed to make the notoriously stoic Bruce Wayne emotional. The obvious one being ‘Two Weeks Notice’, but it was the Hugh Grant, Drew Barrymore semi-musical ‘Music & Lyrics’ that would produce the perfect song for your and Bruce’s life together.

As the sounds of Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore came through the speaker you began to sing in earnest.

‘I've been living with a shadow overhead

I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed

I've been lonely for so long

Trapped in the past, I just can't seem to move on’

Your mind drifted to how you and Bruce met. Recently heartbroken and determined never to let another man hurt you, you’d sworn of men and decided to dedicate all your attention to advancing at work. Your first steps were taking the assignment no one else wanted to touch with a ten foot pole. Being Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant. Those who succeeded at such a gargantuan undertaken seemed to excel through the ranks at Wayne Enterprises, but those who fell short well, you’d heard his last personal assistant had moved back home to small town Kansas and given up the corporate ladder completely.

Your first week had been a cake walk, seeing as Bruce had been away on business meetings in Europe. It’d given you time to get settled in and a system in place. You were determined to be the best personal assistant he’d ever had.

Upon Bruce’s first day back in the office, you’d mustered up all the courage you had and waltz into his office. With barely a good morning you’d launched into a tirade of how things were going to be and that unlike his past assistants you were going to set boundaries. He’d blinked at you slowly, and you were convinced you were about to be fired. His mouth opened and the word okay seemed to unintentionally fall out. You both stood there a moment, seemingly shell shocked at the interaction, before you gathered your wits. With a pivot of your heels you rushed out your own okay before returning to your desk.

Unbeknownst to you Bruce himself had been going through a touch of heartbreak, having had a fall out with his former paramour Selina. His accounts of your first meeting paint you in a much fiercer, more beautiful light. But you’re sure he’s simply remembering the day with rose tinted glasses seeing as you had a poorly concealed coffee stain on your blouse and your hair had definitely begun its escape from the clip you’d rushed it into on the train that morning. Nevertheless he claims it was your fierce determination that stunned him into submission and not his utter exhaustion from sleep deprivation.

‘I’ve been hiding all my hopes and dreams away

Just in case I ever need ‘em again someday

I’ve been setting aside time

To clear a little space in the corners of my mind’

The weeks following your initial meeting were a full of meetings, calls and insuring your boss took proper care of himself. It took exactly three days for you to realize he’d forget to eat, four to realize he seemed to not be sleeping either.

You quietly placed a standing order with the sandwich place down a couple blocks from the building, and then methodically went through Bruce’s calendar and put a two hour meeting blackout everyday around 2pm. You’d also had the couch that sat on the wall just outside his office doors moved into his office proper. The next day you simply waltzed into his office at noon and dropped the sandwich on his desk before returning to your own desk. Two hours later you waltzed in dropping a pillow and blanket on the couch and closed the blinds without a word. As you turned to leave Bruce questioned what you were doing. You simply informed him that you’d place a permanent daily block on meetings between 2pm-4pm and that his office doors would be locked for that period of time as well.

When asked, Bruce will claim that as the day he fell in love with you.

You continued on that way for months, the world seeming to move in a blur around you. Your friends encouraged you to start dating again, but you just weren’t sure you could ever trust a man again. Besides, work was so exhausting most days that you were certain you’d simply pass out at the restaurant if you did go on a date. What a terrible first impression that would make.

It was a seemingly unremarkable Tuesday morning when the world came screaming into focus again.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

Oh’

You’d been tutting about the office while Bruce attended a meeting with Lucius in the lower levels of Wayne Enterprises. You had just started printing off a report for Bruce’s next meeting when your printer ran out of paper. Normally this would be a none issue, except for reasons unknown to you, the night cleaner had developed a habit of putting the box of printer paper on top of the bookcase in the corner. A bookcase that stood nearly three heads taller than you. He’d been doing it for weeks despite your many conversations with him about it. You had tried bringing it up to Bruce, but he just blamed it on the language barrier and claimed it as a non-issue since he could just grab it for you.

It was just your luck that the printer would run out when Bruce was in the midst of a meeting and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, probably two seeing as his meetings with Lucius always seemed to go over their allotted time slot. You’d been certain the office would have a step ladder hidden around somewhere, but after nearly twenty minutes of searching and being put on hold with maintenance, you’d given up. You could just wait till Bruce returned, but you had only printed half of the first of ten copies of a 40 page report that was required for his next meeting. You’d begun cursing everyone from the night cleaner for his obsession with moving the paper to the head of marketing and research’s assistants for not sending the reports yesterday when you’d requested them. Difficult problems required creative solutions, however the only thing you had that was light enough to drag over to the bookcase while giving you enough height to grab a ream of paper was your office chair. As the head of the companies employee safety committee you knew this was a terrible idea, as Bruce Wayne’s golden assistant the risk of letting your boss down for the first time ever outweighed the risk to your personal safety.

Even with the chair you needed to climb the bookshelf to actually reach the shelf the paper was on. Ream firmly in your grasp you moved to step back into the chair. As your foot touched the chair your hand slipped from the shelf and you felt yourself go backwards. You closed your eyes and braced for impact but it never came. Instead you felt arms wrap around your back and hip, securing you to a firm chest. You opened your eyes coming face to face with Bruce. Had his eyes always been that blue?

“What the hell were you doing.” He was angry, his blue eyes tightening with worry. A warmth flitted through you at the thought that he cared about your safety.

“Grabbing the printer paper.” You gasped out, bending to grab the ream that had fallen to the ground when you’d lost your grip.

“You could have injured yourself if I hadn’t shown up in time.” Bruce was still in your personal space and it was starting to overwhelm you. ‘Had he always been this… large?’ He seemed to tower over you.

“Yes, well I wouldn’t have needed to do all that if the cleaner would stop placing my printer paper up there.” You’d stepped back from Bruce, needing something to keep you from ogling your boss, you began fiddling with the printer.

“You could have waited for me.” He got in your space again, his voice softer now as he took the paper from your shaking hands.

“Do you understand how ridiculous it is to have to wait for the CEO of the company just to load a ream of paper into my printer?” You huffed out, turning back towards him now. The two stood there, chest to chest just staring at each other. You didn’t want to be the one to back down first, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep from blushing while staring into to his eyes.

‘What was with you today? You’d never had a problem going toe to toe with Bruce before. Now suddenly your acting like a horny school girl, daydreaming about climbing this man like-

“Fine.” Bruce stalked off to his office, an indiscernible glower on his face, leaving you to ponder what the hell had just happened. And why you seemingly out of nowhere had very inappropriate thoughts about your boss.

That night marked the first of many failed blind dates, agreed to only after having decided that it was your lack of a love life that had you daydreaming about your boss.

The next morning the box of paper was on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.

‘I’ve been watching but the stars refuse to shine

I’ve been searching but I just don’t see the signs

I know that it’s out there

There’s gotta be something for my soul somewhere’

Things between you and Bruce changed after that day. You’d never realized how comfortable you two had become with one another until you suddenly weren’t. You’d taken to communicating with him almost exclusively through emails and his calendar due to how awkward everything had become. He’d try to ask you about your life and you’d just clam up, not wanting to tell the object of your recurring lusty dreams about your string of failed dates. Failed because after less than two minutes you’d start comparing all of them to Bruce. The whole thing was getting so out of hand, you’d started seriously contemplating putting in for a transfer.

You’d been so lost in thought it took Bruce loudly clearing his throat for you to notice him standing in front of your desk.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” You’d resolved that complete professionalism was the only sure way to put everything back to normal. Or at least it will hopefully allow you to cling to some semblance of normal until you stop chickening out and put in for reassignment.

“I was wondering,” he seemed nervous, fidgeting with the snow globe I kept on the edge of my desk. “Do you have a date to the Christmas Gala?” Oh. He’s not? Is he? He couldn’t possibly-“I was just thinking if you didn’t have one, we could go together.” He was- “just as friends. We are friends aren’t we?” n’t.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne I suppose I’ve come to regard you as a” the word friend seemed to catch in your throat “friend over these last few months. But, to be quite honest with you, I wasn’t planning on attending the Christmas Gala.”

“You have too. In fact, I’m making it a mandatory requirement of your job that you have to be there. I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” He didn’t even give you time to respond before waltzing back into his office. It took all of 30 seconds for you to follow after him.

“You cannot force me to go to the gala Mr.Wayne.” You’d stopped in front of his desk, arms crossed over your chest.

“Why not?” He leaned back in his chair, smug smile glued to his face.

“Because I’m a human being with free will and, according to the Wayne Enterprises Employee Handbook, attempting to force me to attend would constitute harassment.” The smile slowly dropped from his face as he rose from his chair.

“If you truly don’t want to attend, I won’t push the matter.” He took slow, deliberate steps towards you, halting just far enough to be considered proper, but still close enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. “However, it’d mean a lot to me if you did attend.” You’d been so distracted by his eyes and the seemingly sincere look on his face that you hadn’t even noticed he’d reached for your hand. You stood there utterly unmoored by the events of the past few minutes. You mentally shook your self out and opened your mouth to once again decline his invitation.

“Okay.” You were stunned with utter disbelief at the disconnect between your brain and your mouth. Bruce smirked.

“Perfect, like I said early I’ll pick you up around 7pm. If we’re going together, I really should match my tie to your dress. What colour is it going to be?” He’d started heading back to his desk.

“Mint.” You mumbled out. If you were going to be photographed on Bruce Waynes arm, even as just a friend, there was only one dress in your wardrobe that was even close to passable. Turns out you would get a second wear out of the bridesmaids dress from your sister’s wedding.

‘I’ve been looking for someone to shed some light

Not somebody just to get me through the night

I could use some direction

And I’m open to your suggestions’

The Christmas Gala was a disaster. The gala itself was wonderful, decorated to the nines, wonderful little hors d’oeuvres being passed around on trays that looked suspiciously like real silver. You however were a disaster. After entering the gala on Bruces arm, to the flash of what seemed like a million cameras, you’d been immediately pulled away to solve a crisis for the marketing assistants. The crisis turned out to be nothing more than a minor tear in her dress. One strategically placed safety pin later and you found yourself in the midst of the gala uncertain where Bruce had wandered off too.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing standing alone?” Oliver Queen. You’d had several run ins with him whilst working for Bruce.

“Oliver, not that it’s any of your business but I’m looking for Bruce.” You didn’t even bother glancing at him, lest you encourage his flirtations. “You haven’t seen him recently, have you?”

“Does Brucie really have you working on Christmas? He truly has no shame. If you were working for me-“ You cut him off before he could descend into what was sure to be a thinly veiled innuendo.

“We’ve talked about this Oliver. I’m not interested in you, professionally or personally.” You levelled your iciest look at him.

“Sheesh, can’t even give a guy a shot in the spirit of Christmas?” You harden your glare. “Fine, fine. I can take a hint sometimes.” He raised his hands in surrender before placing them on your shoulders turning you in a full 180. “Your beloved Brucie is right there, and it seems he’s decided to use the spirit of the season to rekindle an old flame.” You were met with the sight of Bruce and Selina Kyle in an arch way locked in a kiss.

“Oh.” Logically you knew you had no right to be upset. Bruce had made it abundantly clear the two of you were just friends. But if that were true, why did this feel so much worse than any breakup you’d gone through in your near 25 years of life. “Excuse me, I need to- I should check- I…” You left Oliver standing there as you rushed from the ballroom.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart again

I guess I’m hoping you’ll be there for me in the end’

You wrote your two week notice on the train ride back to your apartment. You were sure you looked quite the sight, shivering in your evening dress, makeup running down your face from the tears you couldn’t hold back. It took an hour longer than normal to reach your corner of Gotham, it gave you time to compartmentalize. Due to the Holidays you’d only have to work out one week of your two weeks notice, but that was still one week of having to see the man who had unintentionally shattered your heart. The worst part is you couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d done nothing to lead you on or imply that you were anything more than friends. You’d simply allowed your imagination to get the better of you and now here you were crying because you’d broken your own heart. You were so lost in your own heartbreak you failed to notice the man standing outside your apartment building until you literally walked into him.

“I’m so sor-“ you began to tumble out an apology as you lifted your eyes to the face of the torso you’d just slammed into, only to be met with achingly familiar blue eyes. “Bruce?”

“You left.” He looked upset, almost as if he were the one heartbroken. “You didn’t even say goo- Have you been crying?” His hand lifts to your face, thumb trailing under your eye. You have to repress a shudder at the feeling of his warm hand on your cold cheek. “Was it Queen? Did he say something again? I’ll have him bared from the building.” You step out of Bruce’s embrace.

“No, it wasn’t Oliver Mr.Wayne.” Professionalism, detachment, that was the only way you were going to get through this final encounter with the man you’d come to love. “It was a personal matter and it’s been handled. But since you’re here I might as well do this face to face. I’m resigning from my position as your personal assistant effective immediately. I’ve already emailed HR and-“

“No.”

“No? This isn’t a yes or no, situation Mr. Wayne. I’m not asking your permission, I’m telling you. I quit.” You’re astonished at the level of strength in your own voice.

“No, you don’t. And while we’re at it you’ll stop with this Mr.Wayne nonsense and go back to calling me Bruce.” He’s agitated now, angry at you.

“Mr. Wayne once again it’s not up to you. I’ve already sent my notice to HR, and accepted a new position elsewhere.” A small lie, but a seemingly necessary one seeing how hard of a time Bruce seems to be having with grasping the concept of your departure from his life.

“Then I’ll buy this new company you work for.” He’s invaded your personal bubble once more.

“Mr. Wayne you can’t just buy a corporation to stop me from quitting.”

“Bruce, and yes I can. I’m a billionaire if you’ve forgotten.” You’re nearly chest to chest at this point. “If this personal matter is the reason you’re quitting, then let me help. I’m sure with your brains and my money we can figure out a solut-“

“I’m in love with you, you idiot.” You push at his chest, anger fuelling your every movement now. “I’m in love with you and I didn’t relish the thought of having to sit in that office day after day watching you moon over Seli-“ He’s kissing you. Bruce Wayne is kissing you. Your to stunned to do anything other than let him.

‘There are moments when I don’t know if it’s real

Or if anybody feels the way I feel

I need inspiration

Not just another negotiation’

When he’d finally pulled away, self satisfied look on his face, you began to berate him. It was his turn to be stunned into silence while you cursed him out in the middle of the street (unbeknownst to either of you, one of the teens from your apartment block filmed the whole thing. It went viral by morning and Wayne Enterprises PR team had to work overtime to spin it in the companies favour). It would take the better part of a week for him to convince you that what’d you seen was Selina’s last ditch attempt at winning him back. It’d taken him another two months of failed wooing attempts to finally get you to agree to be his girlfriend.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can't make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart to you

I'm hoping you'll show me what to do

And if you help me to start again

You know that I'll be there for you in the end’

The song fades out and your left standing in the middle of your kitchen lost in thought when a gentle chuckle penetrates your subconscious. You whirl around to find Bruce leaned against the entryway, smile lighting up his face.

“How long have you been standing there?” You could feel a blush beginning to bloom across your cheeks.

“Does it matter?” He advances on you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, I need to gauge how embarrassed I should be.” You sink into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his neck. He bends down and plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

“What were you thinking so intently about?” He gently sweeps an errant strand of hair behind your ear. It was your turn to plant a distracting kiss on Bruce’s lips, the last thing you needed was to inflate his ego. “Ah, so you were thinking about me.” He smirks when you break for air.

“I was not.” Your blush deepens, as if thinking about your husband was the most scandalous thing in the world.

“Mom’s always thinking about you. It’s kinda gross actually.” Jason sat atop your counter eating a cinnamon bun. “What do you even see in the old man anyway? You’re young, attractive and funny. You could do a lot better than Bruce.”

“Off my counter.” You pulled out of Bruce’s embrace to admonish your son. “And put that down, those are for brunch.” You swat his hand away from the fruit tray. He hops off the counter planting a kiss to your check, as he grabs the fruit tray and starts carrying it to the table in the adjacent dinning room.

“It is brunch though mother.” You startle a bit at the sound of Damians voice coming from beside you, nearly 15 years in and you still got startled by the way they all seemed to move in utter silence popping up from seemingly nowhere. At 5’4” your youngest was nearly eye to eye with you, a few more years and he’d tower over you like his brothers.

“Did you all collectively wake up and decided today was the day to disregard all of mom’s rules?” You move to turn off the speaker, mourning your few hours of peace and beginning to mentally prep for the chaos of having all 7 of the Wayne children in one dinning room. “Tim you better be putting that coffee into a cup.” You had a sixth sense for Tim’s caffeine habit and, unbeknownst to him, had been taking steps to curb it. Your most recent ingenious plan was slowly mixing decaf into the regular coffee. Your current batch of grounds was 60% decaf and only 40% caffeinated.

“Of course mom. I wouldn’t dream of breaking your rules.”

“Bullshit.” You whisper under your breath. “Aren’t you all currently breaking rule number 3?” The boys had the decency to at least feigen sheepishness.

“But it is brunch.” Duke, Stephanie and Cas shuffle into the kitchen together.

“Technically the wording of the rule does state that we’re not supposed to enter the kitchen until after brunch, which is why I entered the dining room through the hallway.” Richard leaned his head through the entryway between the two rooms.

“We get it, your mom’s favourite little suck up.” Jason slaps the back of Richards head on his way back into the kitchen. He loads his arms with various platters from the counter before turning back to his siblings. “Well come on half-wits, if you’re gonna break mom’s rules might as well make ourselves useful.”

“Jason, don’t hit your brother.” Your admonishment is half hearted at best, knowing full well your second eldest was likely to simply pretend to listen, while waiting till you turned your back to strike his older brother once again. “And Richard don’t even think about retaliating while he’s holding those platters.” You lean against the back counter running a hand through your hair, releasing it from its haphazard bun. You watch the other kids with the eyes of a well seasoned mother, fear for your antique dish-ware seizing you. You really should just invest in plastic dish-ware at this point, or perhaps you can commission Lucius to develop a line of indestructible dish-ware. There has to be a market for that, right?

Bruce comes to stand beside you, placing a mug of tea in your hands. You lean your head against his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips.

“No regrets?” He asks, as the sound of a squabble erupt from the dinning room.

“Not a one.” You smile. No, you wouldn’t trade this for anything. CRASH Okay, maybe you’d trade out whichever child just broke- CRASH - TWO plates. “Boys what did I just say about fighting with my antiques in your hands!”

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