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pandoraimperatrix · 4 years ago

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brvceselina replied to your post “I’m in a bad mood and I want to write fluff people Please send me...”

gotham!verse batcat where bruce tries to teach selina how to cook would be super cute :´) (maybe around s3??)

Baby BatCat | 2k | Fluff | Same universe as Four Names for Love | Read on AO3

Bruce looked over his table when he heard Selina stir, she had climbed over his window around eleven and basically ignored him, walking straight to the sofa and falling asleep face down almost immediately.

Two years ago, maybe less than that, Selina ignoring him like he was a piece of furniture would have hurt, but after living with her he learnt a lot, and that sometimes ignoring him would be her way to show intimacy. In her world Selina had to be always hyper-aware of her surroundings, ignoring something or someone meant carelessness, meant danger, meant harm or even death. He knew she could have crashed anywhere else, his house was far from being the more convenient place for her to take a catnap, far away from the dark alleys where she pranced. He always wondered how she managed to get to the mansion by feet. No wonder she was so tired.

She hummed softly, eyes still closed, he rested his chin on his hand, looking at her, the research all over his desk forgotten.

Selina sighed, one hand pushing her curls from her eyes.

“Stop staring, you weirdo.”

Bruce’s chair squeaked when he jumped surprised, he turned his gaze away and tried to mask his reaction with a fit of coughs.

“What?”

“Geeez.” She made in a judgemental tone, her eyes were open when he dared to look at her again, her face had a red mark made by the sofa, he felt a jolt of fondness. “I’m hungry.”

“I think there is still bouillabaisse in the fridge.”

“What?”

“Bouillabaisse.”

“Bless you.”

Bruce had to bite the insides of his cheeks to not laugh at the face she was doing.

“It’s soup. Fish soup.”

It might have been the light but she looked slightly green.

“Why do you choose to live like that, kid?”

“I thought cats liked fish.” He mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“Me? Nothing. What do you want to eat? I could make you a PBJ sandwich.”

“No thanks. Last time you gave me something made with a green bread and it tasted like dirt.” And yet she ate the entire matcha bread sandwich that he actually had made for himself before she invaded his house uninvited again. “Don’t you have any pizza?”

“They don’t deliver here and it’s” he looked at his watch “three a.m.”

She looked so sad he actually felt his heart break.

“We could make it.” He blurted.

She straightened her back, attention grabbed, but she still didn’t look convinced.

“Do you know how to make pizza?”

“You’ve eaten more complicated dishes cooked by me.” He retorted slightly offended.

“Yeah, but you had help from your butler before.”

“I did not!” Now he was far from being slightly to be full offended.

She stood up from the sofa and walked in his direction until she was leaning over his desk.

“Prove it, then.”

Bruce swallowed hard, Selina noticed that his Adam’s apple was beginning to show.

“Alright.” He stood up too and she drew back a step, he was a couple inches taller than her now, how the hell did that happen?

He had such a decided look on his face as he pushed his sleeves to his elbows and marched to the kitchen that she had to press her lips hard to stop the smile trying to colonize her face like he had done with her heart.

She jumped on the counter and watched as he separated the various ingredients from the cupboards.

“Regular pizza dough will take forever because you have to let it rise for at least an hour, so we’ll have to make a different version. It doesn’t taste as good.”

“As long it’s eatable… What will be the toppings? Do you have any cheese?”

“Let me see…” She averted her eyes blushing softly when he bended over to look farther inside the fridge and a silver of his lower back appeared beneath his ever-present black turtleneck jumper. “I think we only have feta… I think we could pair it with some cherry tomatoes, olives and spinach.”

“You are not putting spinach on my pizza.”

He sighed.

“I’ll put on my half of it.”

“As long as I don’t have to eat it.” She answered and then added in a lower tone “spinach on pizza… Ridiculous.”

Bruce pretended he didn’t listen, hiding his smile to not show how he actually enjoyed their banter.

“Right, I have everything but the tomato sauce, I think that’s on the pantry. I’ll be right back.”

Selina’s belly made a hungry sound. She took a piece of the cheese Bruce left on the counter. It was white and smelt more milky than greasy. She put in her mouth. It didn’t taste bad, but she still preferred good old yellow American cheese.

She was on her third piece when Bruce was back with a mason jar.

“It’s homemade by Alfred.”

Selina shrugged. It was all the same to her. She didn’t even was sure about the difference between tomato sauce, tomato soup and ketchup.

“Let’s get it started.”

“Are you sure you know you’re doing?”

“Yes. Do you want to learn?”

“I’m not really the cooking type…”

“Come on, Selina. It’s fun. I promise you.”

She still looked unsure but jumped off the counter and took off her jacket, hanging it behind a chair as she went to wash her hands on the sink. Selina’s body shocked against Bruce’s when she gave a little jump of surprise when she felt him tie an apron behind her.

“So you won’t get flour stains.” He said, so close and the goosebumps had nothing to do with her jumpy reactions.

Selina just hummed in agreement and Bruce walked away, she supressed the urge to sigh. Despite Bruce’s insistence that they were boyfriend and girlfriend now they haven’t kissed or done anything like that since the day on the roof, and it wasn’t like she wanted to. She wasn’t weird! But sometimes he would look at her and she felt heat brewing inside, or he would touch her hair softly or caress her hand and she would let him.

“Don’t you need to read from a recipe book or something?”

“Uh uh” he made absently organizing the ingredients before them in a line “I have the recipe here” he taped his temple “my mom taught me.”

“Oh…”

“She wasn’t the greatest cook, couldn’t make anything complicated or fancy, but she did a lot of voluntary work abroad before she married my dad. She joked that she was a chef in all kinds of college kid’s cuisine.”

He almost never talked about his parents, and she could only imagine how painful it could be.

“Bruce… You don’t need to do this. I can have the fish soup.”

“What? No. Let’s do it! It will be fun.”

Selina looked at him for a while, searching any signs of deceit, then she gave him a small smile.

“Show me.”

“First you have to mix the water, the flour and the baking powder for the crust.” He poured the water slowly in the bowl with the four and the baking powder “we start mixing with a spatula and then we can use our hands.”

“Urgh, it’s sticking on my hands!” She complained.

Bruce grinned.

“Needs more flour.” He poured a little more on her hands. “Be gentle. If you work the dough too much it will be too heavy.”

“Alright, geez.” Kneading the dough made her thing about her cats, how somehow they would offer her their bellies to trick her into petting them only to get a bite or a scratch.

“Now we use a rolling pin to stretch the dough.”

“Can you do that spinning thing with you finger like a cartoon?” She teased.

“I can try… But we might ending have to explain why there in dough on the celling to Alfred.”

“You mean you might have too.”

“Would you betray me like that, Selina?”

“You’re so naïve…” She said in a mocking baby voice. “it’s cute. But also dumb.”

He gave her a large smile.

“So you think I’m cute?”

She scoffed, but her face was bright red.

“That is what you get from what I said?”

“Well, you did say I’m cute.”

“I said that you ignorance was cute and also that you are dumb.”

“You say mean thing about me all the time, Selina, I filter most of it.”

She really looked amused by that.

“Where is this sass coming from?”

“I learnt from the best. Now, let’s put the dough on the pan.”

They giggled as they moulded the dough into a round shape, their fingers competing to press the loft material to the tin pan.

“What now?”

“Alfred’s red sauce.” He said struggling to open the lid. “This stuff is really good.”

Selina rolled her eyes and took the mason jar from him, opening effortlessly.

“It’s just tomatoes.”

“Nothing is only just, Selina. And Alfred this sauce from scratch, he even grows the tomatoes himself.”

“You can get ketchup for like tree bucks.”

“You will get it later.”

“Whatever. How do I put it on the pizza? Just pouring?”

“No, use a spoon.” He handed her on. “And spread it evenly.”

He watched transfixed as she worked. Her brows furred, the sliver of the tip of her tongue out in concentration.

“Done.”

“Now the cheese. I think we can just crumb it with our hands.”

They did the work and Selina stole a few more pieces. She was licking her fingers when he finished their task with the cherry tomatoes and olives, the spinach on his side of the pizza and sprinkled oregano.

“Now all we have to do it put it inside the oven and wait.”

“It wasn’t hard.” She admitted. “But I still think buying one ready is better. I don’t even have an oven.”

“But making it is more fun, isn’t it? And if you like it we can make more often when you visit.”

Maybe it was the way he looked at her, so hopeful, or how he went out of his way to make her happy, but Selina felt warmth pooling inside her. She welcomed herself into Bruce’s personal space and raised a hand to his chin

“You got a bit of flour…”

Bruce first looked at her with eyes opened wide, his eyebrows almost touching the roots of his hair, but as her hand lingered, he relaxed, and cupped her hand against his face, his lid trembling shut.

“Selina…” He sighed her name.

“Yes?” She answered softly.

He opened his eyes, still holding her hand.

“Can I?”

She swallowed hard and nodded wordlessly.

Bruce dipped to meet her in the middle, her lips were soft and warm as he pressed his against them gently. The kitchen was filled with the comforting smell of baking pizza. They parted and Bruce opened his eyes to find her, huge, green so dark. She threw her hands around his neck and kissed him again, it was different from the other times, she was tentatively moving her lips over his now. His hands went to her waist as he tried to keep up, but he was scared he would do something wrong and she would never kiss him again. When he noticed that he had been frozen she already broken the kiss again. Her brows furred in confusion, she was detaching herself from him when he leaned into her in a desperate move tried to capture her lips again, but his miscalculated move made their teeth clink painfully.

“Ouch.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed horrified.

But when he looked at her she didn’t seen annoyed, and one hand even remained on his neck playing with his hair as she rubbed her mouth with the other before they exchanged a look and fell in a fit of giggles.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, you dum dum. I’m fine.”

“I just… I have never…”

“I know. Me neither.”

“You know what would help?”

“What?”

“Practice.”

Selina playfully rolled her eyes and walked out from their embrace.

“Isn’t that pizza ready already?”

Bruce sighed.

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s eat!”

Selina smiled at her seven years old daughter as she devoured a slice of homemade pizza. Then rubbed off the flour stain on her chin.

“What is it, mommy?” Asked Helena noticing her mother’s eyes become distant and watery.

“Nothing, honey. I just remembered something.”

“Something sad?”

“No. It was something fun.”

“So why are you sad?”

“I’m not.”

“Mommy…”

Selina sighed.

“Alright. You will get it when you grow up but, sometimes, the nice memories are the ones that hurt the most.”

“Oh… Because you miss those times?”

“Exactly, you are very smart. Now, you can have just one more slice, you already had plenty and Holly will be hungry later when she comes back.”

“Can I call Babs?”

“Didn’t you see each other earlier at school?”

“Oh my god, Dick! No! Dad! Tell Dick he can’t put chocolate on the pizza!”

“It’s my pizza, Lena! You don’t have to eat it.”

“But you are desecrating the sanctity of pizza!”

Dick and Selina groaned.

Alfred who was sitting with his cuppa, watching and forbidden from helping snorted.

“Goodness, Miss Helena!”

“Ignore her, Alfred. She got her flair for dramatics from her father.”

“How come I am the one getting insults?” Mumbled Bruce “Dick is the one putting candy on pizza.”

“Thank you for defending me, B.” Said Dick in a mocking offended tone.

“See! Dad gets it!”

Selina smiled at Dick.

“I think Dick’s pizza will taste good.”

He hugged her by the waist grinning.

“So you’re both weird.” Said Helena failing in hiding her jealousy.

“Said the girl with spinach on her pizza.” Retorted Dick.

Alfred sighed loudly.

“Can you stop judging each other tastes and just finish this? You said you would make dinner tonight and I said yes as long as everything was clean afterwards, but I’m starting to think you will find a stupid reason to fight and leave my kitchen in chaos.”

“Geez, Alfie!”

“Yeah, you have such little faith in us, Al.”

“I just happen know each and every one of you very well.”

A little ball of dough hit Alfred on his forehead.

“Oops.” But Bruce didn’t look sorry at all.

“That’s it!” Said the butler getting up.

They all screamed and laughed as Bruce tried to run away from Alfred. Selina coming to Bruce’s aid and the kids taking Alfred’s side as pizza night turned into food fight night.

#brvceselina #batcat #baby batcat #gotham #selina kyle #bruce wayne #catwoman #batman #my fic #Four Names for Love

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twoheartsoneclara · 5 years ago

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Every year, Selina waits for Bruce to appear with a bottle of apple cider and the memories of years past.

Every year, Bruce goes to Selina with a bottle of apple cider in hand to see her smile.

[read on ao3]

When the wind came, Selina knew that it was Bruce.

“You found out where I lived?’ she asked the shadow that she knew was in the window.

Her mouth turned into a smile. “Creep.”

He shut the window, which clicked shut a lot quieter than when it opened.

“What kind of a person would I be if I forgot tonight?” he answered rather than rising to her jibe.

She turned. It’s not like she had plans other than reading a book she’d bought from the old bookshop down on 5th that she really liked, because the owner didn’t ask too many questions and stocked up on all the editions of poetry that Selina would never admit that she loved.

He set the bottles down on the table. It thudded with the weight of glass.

He opened the bottle, and nudged it toward her side of the table.

The light is low, and if Selina squinted, she could see the thirteen year old kid sitting across from her, except that time they’d gone up to the bridge hadn’t they? And the moon had been full, perfect for a long Halloween night...

“This seems like a good way to die,” he’d muttered, as he’d stuck the bottle inside of his threadbare coat.

“Shut up, bat boy,” she’d said, because when she’d found a bat living in their little hideaway, she’d forced him to be the one to get rid of it. “We’re not gonna die.”

“No, but I might drop the cider,” he said, and Selina had to fight against every instinct that she had to roll her eyes.

“Stop worrying so much,” she said, and then they’d climbed the bridge up to the top.

Selina unzipped her own jacket when they got up to the top, and pulled out the threadbare blanket she’d stuffed inside, and spread it over her legs, and Bruce’s, because he was sitting next to her.

It just made sense to share body heat, when the wind tore through you and the moon was lovely but it wasn’t the sun in your hair, and when you wanted to feel not so lonely at night.

As Bruce struggled to open the bottle with numb fingers, she felt a warmth in her heart that didn’t have anything to do with the blanket.

As he succeeded, she waited for him to take a drink, only for him to freeze.

“We don’t have cups.”

“Duh.”

“But what if we get germs?”

The annoyance returned. She stole the bottle from his grip.

“Bruce, if we’re gonna catch anything from each other, we would’ve already.”

The cider made its way down her throat, earthy and slightly warm, and it was perfect.

She tilted her head back to look at the sky. So many times she looked down at the ground, or across the horizon at the buildings from the city across the river.

Then she looked at the boy sitting next to her and saw that he was already looking back.

“You told me that time,” Bruce said, and suddenly she was nineteen again and the moon was breaking in through the window, “that this was the best cider I’d ever have. You were right.”

“Course I was right,” Selina said. “I’m always right.”

Bruce smiled and looked down, but said nothing.

“Thanks,” she said, and she hoped that he knew it was for the cider. For seeing her. For making the effort to find out where she lived. For sharing with her memories wrapped up in a shawl of cold autumn gusts and high rises.

For being there. For being here. For choosing her again and again.

For everything.

And when she saw his smile, she knew Bruce understood.

#gotham #batcat #batcat fic #brvceselina #stevesharington #idk i just thought you might or might not enjoy this #i wrote it a while back but never posted about it on here i think #my writing

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