#har-rison-s writes batman

[har-rison-s]

mask & seek: 15

batman x fem!reader

based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she’s from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson’s universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn’t trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues??

author's note: hey all :) mask & seek is forreal back this time. i think this is my favourite series ever, sooooo.... i really want to like actually finish it. there's not a lot left honestly, but don't worry, no spoilers. i hope you guys are still tuning into this, i know it's been like..... more than a year since i published 14, and almost two years since i started mask & seek too.... wow. that's insane. so! bruce and y/n are so cute in this. happy reading <3

main masterlist

bruce wayne masterlist

part fourteen

word count: 4.7k

warnings: little bit of smut towards the end, it's pretty short, some anxieties, self-doubting

gif credit goes to author! (i know it's neil but i needed a sorta domestic bruce gif and there are none!!! i cannot find them!!)

“okay, here goes,” y/n mutters with a heavy heart and a chest that seems to have grown ten times its usual weight. she sticks the porta filter back into its place in the coffee machine and faces vanessa with a heavy sigh. everything is heavy as of now, most of all - her own heart. vanessa meets y/n’s dark eyes with her bright ones, “i... will be quitting this job soon.” y/n finally tells her. 

immediately she thinks her voice was too quiet, too unsure, too dark even, maybe? and maybe she uttered the words too fast. but really, no matter what voice she uses or how she says it, the news stay the same, and they still break vanessa’s heart. her eyes grow wide and her mouth hangs slightly agape. “what? you’re leaving?” she asks in nearly a whisper, shock and sadness all over her features. y/n can do nothing else but nod. “why? are you going somewhere? did something bad happen yesterday or something?”

“no, no, no, not at all,” y/n answers with a shake of her head. god, does she tell her the truth? it’s been a only a few days since that faithful night and morning that were followed by this decision being made, officially. it’s been hard for y/n to muster the courage to tell her co-workers, much less her boss, about leaving this job, but it’s also been killing her not to tell them. so here she is, choosing vanessa as the first person she tells. mainly because vanessa has become sort-of her best friend, and she trusts her the most, “i, uh... i got a really good job offer. it’s something completely different, but actually in the field or, value margin, that i wanna work in, and have wanted to for... a while. basically since i was a kid.”

“not a team of crazy scientists, i hope?” vanessa asks, now her face changing to doubt. it makes y/n laugh, and she does so while shaking her head. “okay, what is it, then? some genie came up to you and offered you three wishes, one of them being getting your childhood dream job?” vanessa gets more casual and closer again. y/n chuckles again.

“something similar to that,” y/n nods along, “only the genie is a man who happens to have very, you know, thick pockets,” y/n wiggles her eyebrows, and vanessa laughs, “he’s honestly the kind of man who’d fulfil more than three of my wishes, he’s made that quite clear.”

vanessa grows an ear-to-ear wide grin and gives y/n a wicked look. “is this about bruce wayne coming to visit you here those days back?” she asks and steps even closer to y/n, so their conversation would get more private in the café with nearly all full tables, “did you guys work it out? and how do you even know him? he’s a very hard man to catch outside his enormous house, much less to meet.”

now, bruce had predicted that this kind of question would come up for both of them, and that they couldn’t just dodge it. he also predicted that people would want a clear status of their relationship, to know how the business would really work and how it came to work at all. his and y/n’s conversation about it came to start on something like...

“i don’t want to be a faceless fling of yours in the eyes of the media and public,” y/n admits with a frown on her face, and bruce looks to her.

“well, you’d be the first one to have that title,” bruce faintly jokes. y/n gives him a curious look, still thinking that it sounds kind of impossible, “at least we’re the same age. they’ll take you somewhat seriously.”

“somewhat seriously?” she echoes, now turning to face him completely, one leg bent at the knee before her, on which she lazily splays her arm. bruce shakes his head.

“trust me, i know this so-called industry,” he clarifies, “the press love the old billionaires and their young fling-of-the-months.” bruce says and has a dark-humoured chuckle. it’s sad, really, that old men go after much more younger women, and that the press make all their money off it. bruce knows that. he’d never want to be that kind of man, and he’d never wish that fate upon any girl. “what do you want to be to the public?” bruce asks y/n as he looks to her again, his shoulders hunched forward.

she shrugs. “don’t want to lie about anything that i am, or what we are,” she says truthfully, “but then again – tell the truth, and they find a way to make up lies, anyway.” y/n chuckles and shrugs her shoulders, looking thoughtfully out of the window.

bruce wears a faint smile on his face. “how does being my wife sound to you?” he asks her in a soft tone. that question, though it’s just a casual one mentioning an option for their title, makes y/n look at bruce again. she smiles, too, her head tilted to the side as it’s resting on her knee now. 

“for the papers or... in actuality?” she clarifies. bruce smiles wider. he wouldn’t mind having her as his wife, though we all know that’s an understatement, but he needs her consent, of course. he already feels closest to her now, sitting with her in her apartment, and he felt close to her and with her when she was at his mansion. marriage is only a document, two rings and a ceremony. he doesn’t need that to know that he loves her, to have proof that they’ll want and belong to each other forever. 

so bruce shrugs for an answer. “whichever one you want.” he answers truthfully. it’s really all up to her. it’s her image to society, after all. and yes, of course, the medias and public change it to what they want it to be, but at the end of the day, she is the foundation of herself and how she is viewed. y/n smiles again, this time with a hum.

“neither, to be honest,” she answers and turns her gaze back to the window, “i’m not ready to be someone’s wife. not because i’d be scared of commitment or anything, no. i feel you and me have committed for quite some time now,” y/n says and they both chuckle, knowing it’s true, “no, it’s just that the word has so much meaning, so much... weight and unnecessary stigma around it, you know. like, you tell a person that you’re someone’s wife, and in their eyes you’re already pregnant, have two cars, a cul-de-sac and its garage full of washing machines, fridges and driers.” bruce laughs further. “plus, being a wife is just a legal paper and title. i could be your wife in my head, if i liked the title, without any legal, official papers.” bruce has quieted down, and just smiles now. it kills him to realise more and more, with each day and each new conversation with her, just how similar they are. they both see marriage the same way. “i wouldn’t say no if you proposed at any point in the future, though,” y/n clarifies and bruce chuckles again, like a school boy, “just making sure you heard me.”

“i hear you,” he confirms with a nod and that smile still on his face, “how double standard of me to not need to worry about my title. what if i wanted to be your husband or your fling of the month?” he suggests, and that makes y/n laugh loudly. she hops off the window sill, only wearing one of her huge thrifted sweaters and a pair of pajama shorts, and still giggling, tiptoes her way over to bruce, her thin socks touching the wooden floor of her apartment. he watches her all the way of doing so, and now that she’s comfortably sitting close next to him on the sofa, his eyes take on a more private gaze at her. she makes one of her beautiful smiles at him and breathes a short sigh. “what about you being my... girlfriend?” bruce now suggests, his voice a bit quieter. 

y/n’s smile grows even wider, and her mushed cheeks are complimented by a deep crimson blush. she smiles so wide her eyes are barely visible, but the small portion of them still visible shine with the few tears gathered in them. just pure happy tears, nothing else. she shrugs her shoulders and then moves closer to bruce. his body grows immediately aware of the proximity. “well, my only condition would be...” y/n starts to say, and sighs quickly again, “that you’ll be my boyfriend.” she says. and she thinks god, there must be more age appropriate terms for boyfriend and girlfriend for people their age, something between boyfriend and husband, and girlfriend and wife. partner seems too formal, as well. she feels too young saying saying boyfriend, and too old saying partner. but, she guesses, since they’re just playing with these terms, also the ones the medias like to use, there’s no harm in saying boyfriend and girlfriend.

bruce cracks a wide smile at that, something only y/n gets to see and even she rarely does, and his pale cheeks blush a rose pink for a moment, too. on the rare occasion y/n sees him blush, she always takes note of how the rose pink brings out the soft brown of his eyes, and the gentleness of his eyes altogether. they’re usually dark, filled with emotion to the brim, and encircled by that dark matter he uses. but his eyes are gentle, as is he. the light brown irises look up into y/n’s eyes with care and ease, and a smile still faintly displays itself on bruce’s lips, “i think that’s a good deal.” he says in a voice deep and soft. 

y/n smiles wide again and gets the closest to him that she can. legs entangled, y/n partly laying in his lap, faces close but hands still withdrawn from each other. “yeah?” she asks him in a faint whisper, and now her hand glides over the side of bruce’s face, like he’s often done to her, and she adores it. she only expects more of that in the future. 

his eyelids flicker as he looks up at her, and any expression except adoration and submission fades away from his features. bruce only gives her a nod in response and y/n smiles. the world goes completely quiet as she presses her lips down onto his. only their inhaling of breath can be heard as bruce encircles her waist with his arms and pulls her body impossibly closer to his own. y/n holds both sides of his face now, continuing to kiss him—still hoping she’s good at it—and draws in breaths through her nose because the event and sensation of kissing bruce is drawing out all air and suffocating her in the best way possible.

“we, uh...” y/n’s mind fogs a bit from that memory, but only pleasantly so, “we met through friends in the justice department.” she tells her, hoping it’ll be enough. she and bruce planned out a small cover story for them to use, involving an old friend of bruce’s in the justice department, who happens to be on vacation right now. 

“oh, you never told me you had friends there!” vanessa muses. “tell me exactly how you met, i need all the details.” 

y/n chuckles, and hopes the nervousness in her chuckle doesn’t appear too strong. “it’s nothing romantic, i promise,” she tells vanessa, “they visited me here on a closing shift after some dinner they’d had, and bruce happened to be with them.” y/n says, but she knows she’s gotta do better than that. funny, how her whole life here in gotham has been built on lies she’s told, and she’s suddenly nervous to lie. maybe it’s because she has to lie to vanessa. but she’s done that before, too. “he told me recently that i struck him in the first moment he saw me. i do remember how awkward he was when he tried to order a drink.” y/n says and makes a small laugh again, but this time it’s genuine because she knows how awkward bruce, in truth, can get sometimes.

“i don’t care what you say, to me that is romantic,” vanessa replies. y/n shakes her head. the reason why she hates to be lying right now could be that the circumstances of how they met are much better than this made-up story. much more special, “wish i could have been there to see it.” vanessa admits. y/n doesn’t like the light this cover story paints her in, either. rich business man falls for the woman serving him. in her eyes that feels very weird for some reason. maybe it’s her feminist character that finds it weird. 

but judging by vanessa’s face, the cover story and y/n’s acting are natural and convincing enough. y/n wishes she could spill the truth to vanessa, because god knows she trusts her, but she can’t tell her the truth. it would jepordise everything. “you would have got second-hand embarrassment, v,” y/n tells her and both women laugh. 

“so, what, are you gonna be working for wayne enterprises now?” vanessa clarifies.

“sort of,” y/n answers with a shrug, “you’ll see. but don’t tell anyone else yet. and don’t tell anyone outside of work, ever. they’ll be all over you, and i do want us to make our relationship public, not anyone else.”

“yeah, yeah, you and I both know how tabloids work around here,” vanessa answers, “even though i’d love to tell everyone, i promise you on sebbie’s life that i won’t tell a soul.” she promises y/n on her cat’s life and does a cross over her heart. y/n chuckles at the superstition element. “you’ll have to deal with them a lot, though. i’m sorry for that.” 

“yeah, thanks,” y/n replies quietly, taking that vanessa has mentioned the thing she’s most afraid of. she guesses vanessa knows the character assassination women face in gotham if they’re on any tabloid or news banner. y/n is in for a big portion of that—people don’t take too kindly to women who work in the same company for their male partners or spouses. it’ll be even worse for y/n perhaps, because she’ll be getting a job at wayne enterprises because she’s in a relationship with bruce. there’s nothing wrong with it, and it was bruce’s idea. god knows what kind of speculations will spiral out of that fact...

y/n feels bruce’s tongue against her own as he brushes his hands underneath her sweater now, petting her waist gently. the image of his large calloused hands on her bare skin already entices y/n more, her sharply inhaling breath through her nose. it feels difficult to breathe now, her fingers digging into the skin of his face. bruce softly groans at the feeling, and an almost animalistic shiver sends his hands to the back of y/n’s thighs and pulls them closer to his crotch, positioning her legs on either side of his body. 

the pair nearly fall over from the impact, but y/n steadies them both with ease that her instincts provide, and they only interrupt their kissing with laughter over their slight clumsiness. she really has me feeling like a teenager, bruce thinks to himself before kissing her once more. they melt into each other so easily you’d think they were two pieces of butter on a hot pan. y/n is just about ready to eat him up, she feels this insatiable urge to touch him and kiss him all over, for as long as she has breath.

and when she’s reaching into his sweatpants and adjusting him up with her entrance, panties slid to the side, it’s almost like they sync up completely. the final transaction, the closest they can get, yet they still want more. they’re messy, panting, giggling, hands trembling as they hold onto each other and y/n rocks her hips on bruce’s length. he thinks this must be heaven – her on top of him, her chest in his face, her hands in his hair. he loves her on top of him, always did when she used to patch him up, clean his face, all those times. now their relationship has been turned around and this intimate position they’ve been in before has gained a different turn, too, one bruce was secretly thinking of beforehand.

“you’re so perfect,” he breathes against her skin, laying hot kisses across her chest, her sweater now pushed up, barely covering anything. y/n gasps at bruce’s lips on her breasts, mewls softly, and feels herself so close to release already. she pulls her sweater off over her head, it being in the way, and lets bruce pull her closer, smothering her chest with kisses, arms around her holding her securely. 

“fuck, i’m close, bruce,” she tells him in a heave of breath and bruce nods in response. it might be his familiarity with her body, and it might be her spidey-sense growing on him, but he could tell she was close before she uttered the words herself.

“i know, i’ve got you,” he tells her quietly and keeps his hands supportingly on her back. y/n looks into his eyes, her hand now on his cheek. 

“you f-feel so good inside me.” she whines and arches her back, hair messy in the air, complete surrender to her feelings. 

bruce feels himself twitch inside of her at the words, and he doesn’t resist the groan coming out from between his lips. he grips one of her thighs in his hand, one palm completely capable of covering it, and sees the bump he’s made in her, completely visible to him. “fuck,” he moans out and takes one of her hands in his, guiding it down to the bump, looking into y/n’s eyes as he does. y/n feels the phenomena there and gives him a tired smile, her cheeks sweaty and shining from it in the half-dark. 

“you’re so big, bruce, no wonder,” she compliments him and it makes them both chuckle quietly, though the praise once again goes straight to bruce’s hardness inside of her, “ah, fuck—” she starts to say, but can’t even finish her sentence, whatever it might have been, because her orgasm has taken hold of her and is washing through her entire body like an intense wave. bruce completely succumbs to her, feeling himself unloading inside of her, too, nearly in unison with her milking him in all his length. 

he tries to watch her face as she comes, not wanting to miss the sight of it, and he manages through his eyes filled with euphoria to catch the look of her. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks glistening with sweat, breasts on display for him, hair falling over her arched back. that is until she crumbles on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder and her hands gripping the back of the sofa. she pants heavily into his ear as he does the same, both of them grounding themselves back to reality. “you’re incredible, y/n,” bruce tells her and y/n smiles in response. 

she easily hops off him and finds her sweater on the floor and puts it on before sitting back down next to him. bruce stuffs himself back into his sweats and runs a hand through his hair. she turns her head to look at bruce and they smile at each other. “you’re not so bad yourself,” she tells him and kisses his lips gently. she circles her arms around his neck and they rest their foreheads together, “i could never get tired of this. physically, i mean. i think my stamina is through the roof,” y/n admits, making bruce chuckle, and she enjoys feeling the rumble of his laughter.

“i’ll try to keep up,” he promises and glances into her eyes, this time he’s made her laugh. with her he comes to realize how much he’s capable of. he can make her laugh, he can make her smile, he can make her blush, he can make her reach ecstasy-level orgasms. all of these are honours he holds dear to his heart, “i could never get tired of you.” he tells her quietly. 

“me, neither, of you,” y/n responds, then averts her eyes from bruce’s briefly, “what if i can’t take it? the press, the job? what if i’m not... good enough? classy enough?” she lets her anxieties wonder. it breaks bruce’s heart that she feels this way. 

“you’re more than good enough,” he assures her, “the press may want to say horrible things about you, and i know it’s easy to give into hate and... critique, but...” bruce shakes his head, “you’re the amazing spider-woman, without the suit and powers, too.” he makes a smile at her and y/n gives a weak one back. “you’re going to be so great at this, i already know it. and don’t be afraid to ask for help—me and alfred will be supporting you every step of the way.”

y/n sniffles quietly, but gives bruce a nod. she leans against the back of the sofa, letting go of bruce, and his skin misses her touch immediately. she rubs her eyes and sighs. “i’ve wanted to do something like this, be someone who can make a real change, all my life, since i was a little kid,” she tells him, “and everything that happened throughout growing up just made me want to do it more. and now you’ve given me this amazing opportunity to finally do something like it, and it scares me,” she turns her head to look at him again. bruce nods, understanding, and splays an arm over her frame, “i can never thank you enough for doing this for me. i’m really grateful for it. i’m just scared i won’t be any good at it.” 

“you will be,” bruce tells her, “i never expected this kind of... role would fall on me. i did know, of course, that i would have to follow in my father’s footsteps, and i was more than happy to, but doing it alone, especially when there’s so much pressure about it, and relentless work, never made me like it.” he shook his head. “i know i still want to help people, i always have, and being batman was my way of doing it, but... you’ve made me realize it’s never going to be enough. yes, i can make people fear me, but there’s always going to be someone not so afraid.” he makes a pause to clear his throat. “you remember that brothel we went to on our first night together?” he asks and y/n nods along. “we’re never gonna stop more of those being made by just... doing what we do on our night shifts. crime and corruption in gotham are like diseases. we gotta do more.” he says and y/n nods again. 

“i’m glad you see it now, too,” she tells him and runs a hand through his hair, “we will do more. but i can’t do it without you.” she says and makes a sad smile. bruce holds her moving hand in his and lays a kiss on the top of her palm. 

“you won’t,” he promises, “you won’t be alone. i’ll go to every interview, every event, anything with you.” so you won’t be alone, like i was, in this business. 

y/n chuckles. “really?”

“yeah, i promise,” bruce says with a smile and that’s what makes her believe him. she nods, “i’ll take care of you.” she presses their intertwined hands against his cheek.

“we’ll take care of each other,” she corrects him, and bruce nods, lips once again on her hand, “thank you for this. and for believing in me.” she makes a smile at him and curls herself closer to bruce. he nods at her. he’ll always believe in her. ever since that first night she took him to her apartment, he has put tremendous faith in her and she has always proved worth it. she has never disappointed him. she’s only ever surprised him and hurt him when she fled the manor that night. but never disappoint him. she should have ‘exceeds expectations’ written in her resume, in her passport. 

“always,” bruce says and kisses her lips. 

“uh, vanessa,” y/n calls for her attention again, and vanessa turns to her with welcoming eyes, “can you promise me that... you won’t say anything the press want you to say? no matter how much money they’re offering.” she requests shyly, hoping this won’t close vanessa off to her. but her friend-colleague nods. 

“of course,” she says, “i would never do that to you, man, come on,” she bumps y/n’s shoulder and they both laugh, “no amount of money could make me want to lie about you.”

“thanks so much. i’d never assume otherwise, you know, just had to make sure.” y/n says timidly and rubs her hands together. “i’ll hand in my resignation tomorrow. a month’s notice.” she tells her and vanessa nods with a smile, though she also sighs sadly.

“only a month with you left,” she says and makes a playful frown. y/n shakes her head, “it’s gonna be weird here without you.”

“i know,” y/n says in an aching voice, “it’s gonna be so strange not working here. but i’ll come here for coffee, i promise you that.”

vanessa smiles. “it’ll always be on the house,” she says and does a salute. it makes them both giggle again, but the bell ringing at the entrance door alerts them of a new customer and their laughter dies down a little. 

“that won’t go unnoticed, v,” y/n tells her as she takes her post behind the cash register. vanessa raises an eyebrow at her, “if i’m ever invited to a gala and i can take a plus one, it’s gonna be you.” y/n smiles at vanessa and she nearly bursts at the proposition.

“are you serious? but won’t mr wayne be your plus one?” she makes sure, but y/n shakes her head. 

“no, he gets his own invites. we could go as three, and i wouldn’t wanna go with anybody else, anyway,” she admits. 

“ah, just imagine – us getting ready together to go a gala! what a dream,” vanessa ties her apron around her waist again and passes y/n to stand behind the coffee machine, “your life’s definitely getting better.”

that statement sort of stops y/n in her tracks. her life is getting better, that’s true, she just hadn’t admitted that to herself yet. probably because she feels she doesn’t deserve it, isn’t worthy of such good circumstances. a great relationship, a job she’s wanted to do since she was a kid, a job in helping countless people in peril, poverty, hunger and everything else that’s eating gotham up from inside. but she doesn’t let herself enjoy it. well, truthfully, it hasn’t happened yet, and she’s already hesitant towards it.

being scared of the job is one thing – how good is she gonna be at it? how will everyone else at wayne enterprises like her? how will the media take her work? how will the people of gotham embrace her? but another thing is feeling like she doesn’t deserve it. she doesn’t come from upper class, she wasn’t born into money like bruce was. she comes from a different universe altogether. 

but shouldn’t an advocate for people who can’t defend or support themselves be someone exactly like them? maybe y/n should tell her story to the whole of gotham, about her hardships growing up, about her mother’s hardships – not the whole story in details, but just enough that would make people see that she’s just like them, no different, and wants to help. because she knows how she can help. she knows exactly what these people need because she’s been one of them. who better to protect and vouch for them than someone who comes from the same gutter? that would be a great article headline for the press, y/n thinks.

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[har-rison-s]

mask & seek: 2

batman x fem!reader

based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she's from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson's universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn't trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues?? Thank you so much and have a great day!! ❤

a/n: hello! due to popular demand, i am back with part two :))) i'd already anticipated that this would turn into a series somehow. it's just impossible not to, with that kind of premise. hope you're all enjoying it so far, and happy reading!

main masterlist

bruce wayne masterlist

part one

part three

warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of brothels, mentions of injuries. oh and the best one - silent pining :)

word count: 5.4k

full credit to gif owner / maker!!!

y/n struggles with cleaning her own wound up, the one on the back of her upper thigh, even with the help of a mirror. defeated, she huffs and walks out of the bathroom again, disinfectant and cloth in hand. batman, now mask-free—so a complete stranger—still lounges on her sofa, as she ordered him to because of his injuries, staring out of her high window, and she walks towards him. nerves kick in and she suddenly feels shy around him.

“could you, uh…” she mumbles to him and that makes the guy turn his head to look at her, “could you help me with the cut?” she asks. her hand fidgets with the cloth in hand as she now waits for his response. she doesn’t have to wait long.

“sure,” batman says in response, “what do i have to do?” y/n steps closer to him and is about to turn her back to the man when he makes her laugh and stop in her tracks momentarily with his odd question.

“you’ve never tended to wounds before, i see,” she discovers and then hands him the disinfectant and cloth. now they look at each other, “just do what you saw me do. clean the cut up, and then i’ll give you plasters and a gauze.” bruce nods his head, seeing as she could clean up and fix all of his wounds, he shouldn’t have any troubles with it, either.

he never really has healthily tended to his own wounds, he’s never gone to the hospital, either. although alfred’s insisted multiple times that he does. but in those cases, bruce has let him fix the injuries. but since he’s seen what a toll they take on alfred, not to mention the process behind how bruce gets those injuries, bruce hasn’t let him fix them that often. only when it’s quite literally a life or death situation. otherwise, he’ll live.

so y/n turns around and bruce’s eyes land on the dirty and still bleeding long cut across her thigh, how—even though she says she heals fast—horrendous it looks. whoever cut her, also ripped a line in her very impressive suit. now he sees that it’s made out of spandex—huh. light and flexible. course, it’s not any protection against bullets, but to a woman of her speed and skill it’s not a big deal.

bruce doesn’t want to cause her any discomfort, so he cleans her wound with touches that are as gentle and careful as he can muster. he does hear the occasional whimper and hiss of pain, and in those moments, his hand immediately withdraws from her and he looks up at her, “sorry.” he whispers in his fragile state that transponds into his voice.

she shakes her head, “don’t worry,” she tells him, “you won’t hurt me,” she assures. bruce looks away from her and looks instead to his hand holding the disinfectant cloth. you won’t hurt her. so he keeps cleaning as softly as he can manage.

though one thing is itching at his mind, “thought you said you heal faster,” he rasps, and wants to ask why am i even doing this if that’s true? next, but she speaks up before he can.

“i do heal faster,” she begins, but then utters a hiss at the burning sensation, “i still need to clean the wounds, though. my body may be immune to colds and diseases, but not to infections.” she clarifies.

“you’ve never been sick with the flu?” bruce makes sure and y/n chuckles again.

“yeah, i forgot to mention that,” she says, “haven’t had the flu in more than twelve years, yes.” she nods with her head gently. she supposes a regular man like him does get the flu still, if he ever has the chance to.

“all done,” bruce hands her the cloth and disinfectant, and y/n nods. she takes the few steps over to her bag again and fishes out another huge plaster and then fetches some of the left-over gauze, too, before handing them over to bruce. fragility lingers in his orbs as their eyes connect, but there’s also trust, as it is present in her own orbs. she gives him another kind smile and stands with her back to him again.

neither of them say a word while bruce carefully sticks the plaster onto her skin, covering the cut completely. he makes sure to still be gentle and precise, and this time y/n makes no sounds of pain or protest, so he must be doing a good job. and finally, he secures a good length of the gauze around her thigh, fixing the plaster to her even more firmly.

“done,” he tells her again and y/n turns to him with a smile.

“thanks,” she says and collects all the plaster papers on the couch to throw them into her trash bin. bruce can’t help but stare after her as she walks to her kitchen and back, still humming that same tune. only when she’s coming out of the kitchen, she’s holding something in her hands again. no papers or medical equipment anymore, but two glasses of a dark-coloured drink. she takes a seat next to bruce on the sofa and hands him one of the glasses. he eyes it before taking it, and then looks at her, “it helps the pain, batsy,” she informs him, “not mine, though.” she takes a sip from her glass.

bruce drinks the liquid, and finds it quite pleasant to his taste buds, and he looks at her again. “you can’t get drunk?” he asks, and y/n shakes her head. “so you’re getting me drunk.” he states and y/n shakes her head again, this time with an amused laugh echoing from her lips around the room.

“i wouldn’t do that,” she says honestly, “as i said, it helps with the pain. numbs it, at least.” she says, but bruce doesn’t need to be told twice. he’s had his years of forgetting and swimming in all kinds of intoxicators. maybe it’s not an entirely good idea that he’s drinking now.

“i know,” he says before downing another swig of the drink. must be whiskey. y/n gives him a curious look, with worry right behind her eyes of caution, and discovers the guy isn’t looking back at her. she positions one of her arms across the sofa’s backrest to get more comfortable, her side resting against the pillows. batman’s pieces of armor lay between herself and him, creating a somewhat line.

“what happened out there tonight, anyway?” she asks him with a more playful voice. “i’ve seen you take out more than four guys at once with ease before, what was wrong this time?” she asks him, and notes how even while she asks him the question, and while he thinks on his answer, and while he later gives her one, he doesn’t look back at her. only glances once or twice, his eyes a bit rabid, like a mouse’s.

“they came prepared,” he says, the last word hanging on his tongue a little heavy, “should have waited a longer time to try and them take down again. last time i did was two nights ago.” he tells her, and only now fully looks at her, truth and trust dripping from his eyes as the dark pomade around them is. he looks very vulnerable to y/n.

and it takes her back in a slight way. if this man decides to trust her, he trusts her completely, with no hesitance, no turning back. and she appreciates that. but she’s also never seen trust like that towards her before. or perhaps she just hasn’t seen it in a long time. “you see your own mistakes,” she states to him, “that’s good.” she nods with a smile. “but you look tired. very tired.”

bruce shrugs and looks away again. “sleep doesn’t come easy to me.” he admits and downs the remainder of his drink in one gulp. that worries her, too. looks like he’s no stranger to a glass of alcohol. this guy is damaged, like really damaged. more than she would have thought.

she moves closer to him and her hand reaches out to his tar-black hair, softly, gently pushing it away from the cut in his temple, away from his sadness- and years of trauma-ridden face. bruce gives her a cautious, vulnerable glance, and she gives him a light smile. her fingers caress the hair strands closest to her, and bruce finds it a soothing act. if at first instinct he was ready to swat her hand away, that instinct is gone now, and he welcomes her touches.

he’s become tired of denying himself good things and feelings. he’s found himself avoiding anything pleasant and healthy lately, maybe ever since his intoxication period ended, and it’s caught up to him. no wonder it’s hard to trust someone, no wonder it’s hard for him to accept gestures of kindness. hers come from a good, well-wishing heart. he sees that. and he chooses to trust her.

and if so, he’s going all in. he surprises himself with how much he reveals to her, how much he talks to her. even more than he does to alfred. and he lets himself be curious about her, too. after all, they know nothing about each other. they don’t even know each other’s names, and it is so exciting. they are, to each other, a whole new world to discover. so many questions to ask, assumptions to make, emotions to coach out of each other. it truly is exciting, even if it may sound childish.

“what gets you drunk?” he asks her in a whisper as her hand still wonders about his nest of black hair. she casts him a glance, and their eyes connect. he’s really going all in. she gives him a shrug in response.

“i don’t know,” she says honestly, “adrenaline, i guess. i’ve only tried alcohol and the drugs that work on a regular person before, and they’ve done nothing at all. dunno, maybe there’s some drug that works on enhanced persons, as well.” y/n makes a light chuckle again. her fingers halt their movements about his hair and she rests both her hands on his closer shoulder. she looks dreamily into his eyes, almost seeing him as a specimen. he is, quite frankly, in her eyes, at least. “it’s not something i really focus on.” she admits to him.

bruce appreciates how close she is to him, and how close they’re getting on this night alone. he hasn’t had anything like that in his life before. a woman, someone he trusts, someone that’s saved his life, someone who is so intimately kind without asking for anything in return. someone so close to him without knowing much about him.

“thank you for everything,” batman says to her suddenly, disrupting their moment of silence. y/n closes her eyes and leans her head more against the sofa’s backrest, “you’re really… kind to me.” he says, and for a second there, she catches his voice breaking. voice breaking? did he really do that? she wasn’t wrong when she thought he was a fragile man.

her hand reaches out to his hair again, and her fingers gently coax through the strands, which makes bruce look at her again. so much fragility in just two little, dark blue orbs. “you’re welcome,” she tells him.

“i’ll take you up on that offer,” bruce tells her then, the sureness in himself making his voice tremble slightly. y/n furrows her eyebrows.

“which one?” she asks. did she forget?

“working as a team,” bruce answers and searches her eyes for recognition. it’s there, and she nods at him, understanding what he says and appreciating the agreement. “sorry that i… doubted you before.”

y/n shakes her head lightly. “it’s… no matter. not the first time i’ve been underestimated,” she assures, “thank you.” her eyes look into his finally. “i know we don’t take on the same people, though, so… we’ll probably have to set some ground rules.” she says with a light chuckle.

“what do you mean?” he makes sure.

“well, i’ve never gone after mafia or drug-dealers gangs like you,” she places her empty glass on the coffee table and sighs quietly, bracing herself for what she’s about to tell him. she’s never uttered the words out loud before, never had to explain herself to anyone, really, before, “i use my hearing… to find women in dangerous situations.” she tells him, now sitting a bit further from him with her legs crossed. bruce is intrigued. “and children, as well. i protect those who cannot protect themselves.” she looks up from her hands to his eyes. “we both know what men are like, and not just here.”

bruce nods. there must be a reason for this particular… audience she saves. he wants to ask, but he chooses not to. that would be prying, and perhaps the reason is much more personal for a first conversation between the two. he knows enough about her, and perhaps time will come and she’ll tell him. that and everything else he’s curious about.

and the latter part of her sentence motions towards her not being from gotham originally. not just here. where is she from, then? she already seems like someone from a completely different world than bruce and the rest of gotham that he knows. yet there’s a shared taste for justice and helping the little people. bruce realizes they must both have seen some things they’d rather not talk about. it’s evident in her eyes just now, as she spoke about what she does exactly.

he nods again, “you were pretty good against those guys,” he tells her with the attempt of a smile on his lips. his eyes look sincerely into hers. she smiles back, a blush heating up her cheeks, and nods, “if it weren’t for his other gun.” bruce adds, and that makes the woman laugh. that sound is so intoxicating he can’t help but laugh subtly with her. that’s a first. “i guess you have to work on making them lose consciousness sooner, and then clear them of their weapons.” he suggests. “what are you gonna do with the guns, anyway?”

y/n pulls out the two guns on her holster and holds them both up in one hand. “oh, you mean these?” she asks with a raised eyebrow and a grin. bruce nods, that grin stretching his features, too. “i keep them. wouldn’t wanna give them to the police, because, one way or another, they’d end up in the market , anyway. the less guns there are on the streets, the better.”

bruce grins wider, her idea quite impressive to him. “but you fight without them, right?” he asks, and she nods her head. “you and me both. i use other types of weapons. i develop all kinds of tech in my free time, like recording eye lenses, tasers, hooks—anything, really.” y/n nods along, quite captivated by him. “i can make copies for you, if you’re interested, but something tells me you’ve already got a good enough skill set.”

y/n smiles and feels sappy at the fact that this man went from what could itsy-bitsy spider help me with, exactly? to full on complimenting her and her powers. she nods. “what are the recording lenses?” she asks, curious.

“they record everything i see, and identifies people in my way, shows me their name, profession, recorded crimes or law-breaks,” bruce explains, “they have a recording option and a live-streaming option. i usually watch everything back to back in my… in my lab,” he scratches the back of his head out of slight nervousness. lab is a great name for his tech- and bat-filled man-cave, “especially when i’ve been to crime scenes or drug-dealing hot-spots. though i rarely get inside those.” he admits.

y/n chuckles. “i’d like to use those some time, if i can,” she tells him, and bruce nods. she can see how much more he loves talking about his creations and night shifts than he likes to talk about himself and his troubles. this vigilante lifestyle must mean a lot to him, “you gotta have a lot of money for all those things, though. you a millionaire or something?” she asks jokingly.

bruce tries not to give anything away, but the look in his eyes betrays him. vulnerability. exposure. right guess. truth. “far from it,” he says then, “job just pays well.” he offers her a half-smile. she’s not sure that was entirely the truth that he just told her. but she doesn’t linger on it. she has things she’d rather not say about herself, too, and obviously, so does he. it’s understandable, and she won’t push him to talk.

she nods. “i wish mine did,” she says, “could make my suit more comfortable.” y/n sighs, and gives batman another look. a smile appears on her face. “i have no idea what ground rules to make. to not kill anyone is my only rule.” she admits.

“mine, too,” batman responds, and their eyes connect in a sacred look. she gives him another one of those timid smiles and head turns and leans with her side against the pillows again. what an intimate moment between the two of them—discovering something else they share. it holds quite a lot of worth to both of them, “guess that’s the only rule we have to establish.”

“maybe let the other know where we’re going, if we have to leave an… interaction, let’s say,” y/n suggests, “do you make communication ear pieces, too, maybe? i have… used those here and there before.” she says, gulping back the somber memories of her world. batman nods.

“i’ll give you a pair the night after tomorrow, if you’re ready by then?” he inquires with slightly raised eyebrows in the hope that he isn’t being too-straight forward. y/n nods, to his relief.

“i don’t think you and your injuries will be quite ready by then,” she admits, looking over his patches and gauze-wrapped spots, “and you have to get some sleep beforehand, too. whoever it is we’ll be up against, i don’t know if i’ll be able to save you a second time.”

bruce grins at that. witty. “i’ll try, thank you,” he says. he likes that in the way she cares about him—if she does. he doesn’t want to assume, but he feels that she does care about him—she’s very different from the way alfred cares about him. sure, they might be similar in what they request from bruce, but they’re very different in a sense he can’t quite describe.

“you can spend the night here, if you want,” she offers him, glancing at the slowly, but steadily rising sun in the dark gotham night. she knows her offer might be pretty straight-forward, but she also doesn’t mean anything more by it. he should rest, not go anywhere and spend the night here. let his injuries heal.

one thing y/n will never get quite used to is how dark the city is. even during day time. darker than new york was, for sure, and she doesn’t understand how that can be. this must be some weird parallel universe.

bruce appreciates the offer, and wants to stay. but he knows he can’t. so he shakes his head in response with pursed lips and looks at the empty glass in his hand. “thank you, but i can’t,” he says and gives her no further answer. next y/n watches as he puts his suit pieces back together, and now he’s dressed completely again. he’s batman again. bruce grunts as he stands up on his feet, the effort taking a toll on his injuries for the few seconds, and they all pulse afterwards as he puts the empty glass on the coffee table. he turns to y/n.

she sits on her sofa still, abandoned by him and the sacred moments they just shared together. her legs crossed in front of herself, her side leaning into the sofa. her hair cascading down on her shoulders, framing her face without a gram of effort from her. the curious, careful eyes that she follows him with nearly shining in the dark. her suit fits her well, the colors accent her skin tone and eyes very well, bring them out in the best of ways. he’s sure the look, smell and feeling of her will not leave his head for an unknown length of time now.

he doesn’t want to leave her, doesn’t want to utter those words of good-bye. but this is a hopeful parting. one that will bring many more meetings—hopefully just like this one—after it. but hopeful isn’t a thing or characteristic that bruce is familiar with. “i’ll see you the night after next,” he tells her, “do you know the narrows?” he asks her. and y/n nods. “meet you on the train platform in the outskirts, then. eleven.”

y/n nods at him with a smile. “you sure will,” she promises, and a somber silence settles between them. bruce doesn’t really want to move away. but he can’t exactly stay standing there awkwardly as he looks at her (although he’d love nothing more), “take care, batman.” she tells him with a parting-words tone of voice and bruce nods again.

she can still feel the swelling of her heart from his leave, even two days after he did. how he opened and closed the window without a sound, got out of it with ease, and disappeared. probably down the fire escape. a jump from the eleventh story wouldn’t be survivable, especially for a man with his wounds. then the only proof that he was ever there was the empty whiskey glass on her coffee table. and the blood-and-dirt-soaked tissues and cloths right next to her first-aid bag.

y/n looked longingly at the empty glass, his gloved fingertips leaving no traces on it, only his musky lips that left whiskey prints around the edges giving away that it was him drinking it as he sat there on her sofa. she breathed a deep sigh and got up from her sofa, leaving their conversation and moments of great intimacy behind, to stay where they were born, and she headed for her bedroom instead.

her two days and a night without getting out in the streets and fighting petty crime seemed like the most boring days she’d had in her life. minutes and hours stretching out longer than usual, her everyday tasks at home and work suddenly seemed boring, too. and all that because she was anticipating a night of crime-fighting with the batman. she was surprising herself with her strange mood, too.

she had to let the cut in her thigh heal, as well, so it’s not as if she was waiting in vain. she just hoped he was taking care of himself like she was, getting rest and not doing anything hefty. certainly not fighting criminals on his own, behind her back. that would feel strange to her, and would make her think she or their deal meant much to him.

but bruce can vouch that that isn’t true. having such a skilled, agile and witty partner-in-crime-fighting was the greatest gift he’d received in a while. and the woman behind that mask truly hadn’t left his mind since that night. his two days of rest and getting enough sleep—alfred was both glad and concerned about it—seemed boring at best. he kept going over that recording of her from that night, kept replaying her words until he fell asleep or found peace in his own mind.

he knows that not telling her he was recording was wrong. but he didn’t want her to feel weirded out. although, she would be weirded out, anyway, if she found him now looking and listening to that recording over and over in his cave. the thing is, he’d forgot he was recording until he got home. there, as he tried to fall asleep, he realized something was itching at his eyes. the lenses.

and so he took them out that night, put them in a small case and kept them on his nightstand for when he’d wake up. and he couldn’t lie—that was one of the best-slept nights in his life since he was eight years old. his slumber was thick and long, unbothered by the outside world, no matter how many noises there echoed around the manor, no matter how loud they were. bruce just slept like a log until his body felt it had had enough of sleeping.

when the time of night had finally come, y/n had locked up at work and went home to change into her suit. she couldn’t stop her thoughts spiraling towards batman as she zipped every zipper and secured every detail of her suit intact. his way of fighting, the rasp and years of sadness in his voice, his soft eyes darkened by the black pomade and cowl he wears. she also wonders whether he puts the black color around his eyes himself, and she also wonders what brand of eyeshadow he uses. if that is eyeshadow, of course. it could be eyeliner, lipstick or motor-oil, for all she knows.

she also couldn’t hide the excited butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him. she didn’t like it much, and surprised herself by having them, but she couldn���t get rid of them. he was in her thoughts, in her mind, twenty-four-seven. it was weird, and she decided to try and ignore them would be the best option right now. she’d deal with them later.

swinging over gotham streets busy with cars and pedestrians, y/n can’t help but think of new york. how much she misses it. how much more like home than gotham it was to her. it was also a lot friendlier of a city than gotham, and she guesses that’s what she misses the most. the people. the atmosphere. she could deem gotham as a darker, meaner new york, if that makes sense.

but her thoughts leave new york completely when she spots the dark silhouette of batman on the train station one web-slinging distance away. she grins then, and aims to land right next to him. when she does, he turns to her from his position of watching the street and buildings below and across from them. bruce makes the ghost of a smile on his lips at her presence.

she looks up at him, noticing his staring at her, and she greets him with: “hey”. spoken in a soft, friendly voice. bruce nods at her and then turns back to the view. she wonders what this small amount of talking must mean in his behavior. has he suffered some trauma as a child that makes him talk less than he’s ought to or is he just… like that?

“here,” he holds up his palm with small objects in it to divert her attention. he’s much more straight to business tonight, y/n realizes, “will you need help with the lenses?” he asks, turning his head to her again. just his head, just to glance at her.

“never used them before, but i think i’ll manage,” she admits and takes the small objects into her palm. two lenses with a pattern of circles and wires on them, and an earpiece. one that is strikingly similar to the one stark made for her and the other avengers. only this one’s much smaller, and it’s black, “what’s it like out there tonight?” she inquires as she zips her mask open.

“quiet for a wednesday,” bruce answers, “but we shouldn’t use that as a good sign.” he looks back to her again. she’s tilted her head back and is adjusting the first lense into her right eye. she seems to do it quickly without any struggle. when the second lense is in, bruce steps closer to her, leaning his head down towards her.

“let me see,” he requests and y/n obeys, tilting her head back up and looking into his darkened eyes. she blinks a couple times, and no doubt there are tears in her eyes from the foreign objects. bruce inspects her closely, “move the right one more to the left, otherwise it’ll really bother your vision.” he suggests, and y/n does as he says again, moving the lense slowly to the side.

“ah, that makes sense,” she says and blinks her eyes a couple more times for good measure, “whoo, they feel kinda weird,” she admits. bruce smiles at her amusing behavior and pulls slightly back, respecting her space again. now she sticks the earpiece into her right ear and quickly adjusts it. she really has used one before, it shows in her movements and quick adjustion to the object in her ear.

“where did you say you used them before?” he inquires. has she been a spy before? maybe some secret agent? a police officer? neither of those names seem right or fitting to her. y/n gives him a certain glance, a fearful one.

should she tell him she was brought into gotham from another universe through some multi-versal portal a magic man makes? or should she lie about it, make something up? maybe she shouldn’t answer his question at all, follow his example. she wonders if the anxiety of not answering most questions haunts him afterwards.

she looks away and pulls her mask on again, her hair somehow vacuuming inside of it all at once, as if she’d pushed a magic button. “i was once… part of a team,” she starts to say, “quite a big one. saved the world together multiple times, but… we fell to pieces eventually.” batman searches her eyes for anything else that might tell him something about her, but he finds only hiding, hurt and truth in her eyes. nothing more. he didn’t mean to pry, “um, what are we—what are we doing tonight?” she guesses it must be her elevated feelings that have made her suddenly so much so emotional that she’s almost brought to tears. they do gather in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. and she doesn’t let batman see them, either. he shouldn’t. she doesn’t want him to.

batman takes her cue in question form to focus on their mission tonight. “there’s an illegal brothel right down that street,” he informs her, pointing out in the far distance, “we’re gonna use your hearing to find any urgent situations in it, and then we’re gonna make a point to the owners. they are at work tonight.” he says.

an illegal brothel. “must be one of many in gotham,” y/n says.

“it is,” batman confirms, “it’s also one of the worst ones. you’re gonna pretty much see it with your own eyes.” he says with a heavy air. y/n huffs, bracing herself for what she's about to see. she hopes her traumatic memories won't resurface at the wrong moment. 

“alright,” she says, “what do i call you?” she looks up at the bat again after her eyes were so busy focusing on the brothel up ahead. 

“bat will be fine,” he tells her with a slight smile, “and what do i call you?”

y/n grins. “spider will be fine,” she says, “i used to be called spider-woman.” she says, encompassing another hint towards her past life, a life she lived somewhere else, again. 

“suits you well,” batman says, “you ready to go?” he adjusts something in the back of his suit as he looks over her shoulder at her and asks her the question.

y/n takes a few steps behind her to put as much distance between her and the edge of the platform, to give herself a good, successful jump across the street and into the narrows. she has never really been there before, only on the very outskirts of it, but she’s certainly heard a lot of things about the place. none of them good. “yeah,” she says as she braces herself, “you’re gonna jump, too?” she asks, confused about his ready-to-jump stance.

batman grins. “no,” he tells her and jumps off the building with no prior warning. she keeps herself from screaming out in shock, but quickly gets her wits together and follows his lead. as she runs towards the edge and shoots a string of webs out across the street, she sees a big, actual bat silhouette emerge from below, and she laughs in delight. he can fly. she swings after him into gotham’s dirtiest neighbourhood with a grin on her face.

and so it begins.

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