#please pretend i drew like a proper chair okay. she's sitting on a fancy chair. just trust me.

[tqtc-art]

MILF CAT

[bluebellhairpin]

Not Jealous

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

A/N: So I worked on this instead of like, five other things that people want but hey - gal’s gotta have her vices. - Nemo

Summary: Even after years of fancy gatherings, Bruce wants nothing more than to give in to his introvert nature and run away from them. You however, have taught him that after sticking it out, they might not be so bad. 

Warnings: Flirting. Bruce get’s jealous but not really ‘cause Batman doesn’t get jealous. Reader has she/her pronouns and is referred to as uh ‘wife’ multiple times. 

Listening to: ‘Can’t Take My Eye’s Off You��� by Frankie Valli - ‘Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare... You're just too good to be true.’ 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist  

Gala’s were something that Bruce never really liked. 

As Bruce Wayne - the billionaire, playboy, golden child, Prince of Gotham - he couldn’t get to enough of them. 

As Batman - the brooding, ‘I work alone but not really’, Protector of Gotham - he avoided them at all costs. 

But as himself - the friend, father, husband, Bruce - his thoughts on such events could only be described as apathetic. 

Over the years he grew a very nice façade to hide how he truly felt. After the entrance of his wife, and then each child that followed, it became easier to fake, and he did have to admit they became a little more enjoyable with proper company anyway. 

Of course, the first time he saw she who would be his wife at one of these events, she was hanging off the arm of some blond, tanned, rich member of high society. From his knowledge and meetings with her on the streets she wasn’t exactly supposed to be enjoying it as much as she looked like she was. 

Turns out she was one great faker too. 

Over the course of the past seventeen-ish years, Bruce got to know the various ways you dealt with these gala’s. 

While he was tempted with the recluse lifestyle everyday, you managed to get him out of the house when it was needed. Even if it was a big house, he still needed to get out of it sometimes. 

With the outings you used to force him on, he was able to learn a thing or two from you. You weren’t born into wealth like he was, and you never had it until you married him, but you took to it like a fish to water. Well, the avoiding attention part anyway. In fact, when it came to going to gala’s with you, he was surprised at how little attention you drew when you didn’t want it. 

The first time you went as a couple, and then again as a married couple, were the worst as far as being left alone went, and he did expect it. Newspapers craved that sort of thing. 

After that, when it was just him and you, the most you were asked of was the journey between the car and the front door thanks to the press and media - once inside you could sulk away to a corner or table, get up for a dance or two, loiter at the bar and then go home without anymore than a half dozen people approaching. Those were very good nights for Bruce, mainly because on those nights he’d rather be anywhere else. 

As if he didn’t feel that way about them anyway. 

But lately your trick of not gaining attention at the gala’s wasn’t working anymore. It wasn’t that people were noticing him again, no it was because they were noticing you. 

Namely someone kept noticing you. 

“You both have never looked more alike.” 

Tim slid into a set opposite Bruce and Damian. Bruce had a crystal tumbler filled with ginger ale pressed to his lips, unmoving as his eyes locked onto where you stood across the room. Damian was in the exact same position, whether knowingly or not, and was sending a glare towards the man who was looking far too happy about talking to you. 

“We are kind of literally related, Tim.” Bruce mumbled, sipping his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.

“He’s too close.” Damian whispered.

“I know.” 

“She could get uncomfortable soon.”

“I know.”

“If it bothers you so much then either of you could go over there and whisk her away.” Tim said, shaking his head a little. “Bruce could pull out his charisma, or the gremlin could pretend to ask for a dance with his mother all cute and mother-son-like.”

Damian switched his glare over to Tim.

“Why don’t you go and fix it since you’re so smart?”

“‘Cause it’s not bothering me as much as it is you.” Tim laughed. Bruce looked between his two sons, then up to where you and the man were talking. “She can handle herself. Plus he’s way below her league anyway, if she doesn’t know that then something’s wrong.” 

“You don’t think Ummi’s being mind controlled right now, do you?” Damian asked, sitting straighter and squinting a little. “We should go home and -”

Bruce stood, patting Damian’s shoulder as he pushed his chair back in, and then strode over to your side. 

As usual, you noticed his approach with barely having to look, and reached out an arm as he pressed his side to yours. His arm wound it’s way around your waist, and he offered his free hand to the man whose conversation he probably just ruined. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Wayne.” he said, lips tight in one of the best and believable fake smiles he’s put on in his entire life. 

“Henry Syrus.” The man said, stepping to match Bruce’s fake pleasantries with his own, “I was just having the most wonderful conversation with your darling wife about the art pieces here. 

“Next time you should compare novelty keychains.” Bruce’s voice was light, but you could tell there was a little something underneath. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take her away for a dance before the night dies down too much.” 

So without another word, Bruce swept you away and onto the dancefloor with the hoard of other swaying couples. 

“You need to practice that.” 

“Practice what?” he asked, looking down at you as his fingers intertwined with yours. 

“The ‘I’m taking my wife away from someone who makes me feel like they’re making her feel weird’ thing you just pulled.” you said, a small smile twitching onto your features from your lips up to your eyes - your first genuine smile of the night - and Bruce was proud to think it was because of him. 

“I did that?” he mused, feigning thought for a moment, “I don’t think I did.” 

“Well you weren’t jealous. Everyone - including you! - says Bruce Wayne does not get jealous.” Bruce spun you away, and then back closer to him again. Closer than before. 

“I don’t need to get jealous, I know you can’t resist me.” he mumbled against your ear, then pressed a kiss to your cheekbone before leaning back some again. “That’s why you keep sticking around.”

“I thought I stuck around because you’re filthy rich and never at home, so that I have the place to do as I please.” 

“Okay, okay,” he said, chuckling, “Now you’re really teasing me.” 

“I’m just getting started.” you said, a sly glint in your eye that made his arm around you tighten. 

“Oh? Dare I ask what else you have in store?” he replied, preparing to meet whatever you came up with. You hummed at him, surveying the room and fellow dancers before looking back up at him again.

“I’m gonna take you home, pull you into our bedroom, and take you out of this monkey suit -”

“- it’s a tux, not a suit -”

“- I’m going to take you out of this tuxedo,” you corrected, tugging on his tie as he smiled down at you, “And then we’re gonna sleep for twelve. Whole. Hours.” He groaned. 

“You love me so much. You know exactly what to say. You treat me so well.” 

“I know.” you said, smiling up at him. He couldn’t help but press his lips to yours in something a little longer than a peck, and you hummed again. “Now you’re making Henry jealous with all the faces you’re making.” 

“How can you tell, you can’t see him?” he asked. Looking over, he was able to see that, yes, the man you were with before wasn’t looking incredibly happy at the moment. 

“I’m a mother of at least five children, Bruce. And I have to deal with you. I can tell when someone’s glaring at my back.” 

“I do glare a lot.” He grimaced. “I should’ve known better.” 

“Underestimate me again and you’ll pay for it.”

“And if I do then you can name your price, my dear.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

tapestry 👑 X

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The court celebrates the last hunt.

Note: Okay, so I called in today because of my anxiety at the suggestion of my boytoy and he told me to sleep in a bit. He’s not a doctor, but he’s got a PhD (pretty huge dick) so I have to listen. But I got this chapter done last night so y’all still get your fix, lol.

Also, I have to thank you guys, I really can’t thank you enough. I am in love with this fic and truly in your discussion of it bc yall seem as invested as I am and I just love all the possibilities and how these characters are turning out and it’s all been so much fun. So please, enjoy and remember that I love you (but I will not leave my wife for you, sorry).

(also open to new moodboards for the fic or even playlists for inspo if anyone’s interested. memes always welcome.)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

You were never one to stand out among a crowd. Were it not for the sling around your shoulder, that would still be true. You suspected, without the king's interest, that would be even more true. But despite your simply cut gown, you could sense the eyes as you entered the hall.

The trestles were set with scarlet cloth and silver plates. You followed the other unwed ladies to the table opposite the lower lords. The king would sit at the high table with several favoured lords and ladies and those of the council not among them would sit along the next. 

You were surprised to spot your father along that group of men, though he did not wear the pin that the other counselors wore. He nodded at you from across the room as he took his seat. You were stopped before you could go behind the trestle by a servant in royal colours. The other ladies glanced over but quickly hid their curiosity.

“My lady,” The servant said. “You are to take the place of honour at the high table.”

“Pardon?” You stepped aside to let Joan pass behind you. 

“The king has declared you the Maiden of the Forest. You must take your proper seat,” The servant insisted. “If you would follow me, my lady.”

“Um,” You glanced to the ladies as they sat along the bench then to the table where your father sat. His eyes narrowed at you as he listened to Lord Callum. “Certainly. As you will.”

You waited for the servant to lead you. You climbed the short steps up to the dais that held the king’s table. Diana and Mable sat with their husbands, Anthony and Samuel, and Lord Barnes stood next to an empty chair to the right of the king’s. The royal couple themselves were upon a short platform that held them another half foot above their guests. 

The servant gestured towards Barnes. “Just down there, lady.” He explained. “With Lord Barnes.”

“Thank you,” You nodded to the man and he quickly departed for his other chores.

As you walked along the table, behind chairs both occupied and not, you stared at the king’s chair. The thought of spending the feast next to him filled you with dread. A blur of movement caught your eye and you found Lord Barnes awaiting you with a smile as you drew nearer.

“My lady,” He took your hand and bowed to kiss your hand dramatically. “The venerable Maiden of the Forest.”

“You mock me,” You accused. “Though I should wonder how a man in such a smock could find the gull to do so.”

“Oh but any silk not dull as stone would seem gauche next to your attire, my lady,” He quipped. “As a second daughter, I am certain you expected a convent but you’ve escaped the habit of yet.”

“I thought you the king’s man, not his jester,” You returned. He politely shifted the chair back for you to sit. “Though perhaps a fool’s cap would suit you better.”

“As much as a bolder shade would bring out your complexion, my lady,” He remarked as you sat. “Do you truly seek to deter the king or is this truly what you consider fashionable?”

“This is what an earl’s daughter can afford,” You said sharply. 

“If only half this court was as self-aware as you, my lady,” He sat beside you, “Perhaps then it would not be so turbulent.”

“Oh, if only,” You agreed.

“The sling, however, does brighten the look,” He added. “How does your shoulder fair?”

“Tender but not so insufferable as my company.”

You looked across the room. Rose was not among the ladies. You hadn’t seen her since before the hunt and heard even less of her. ‘I will see that she is dealt with’, those were the words the king had spoke. The promise he’d made to you though you could not untangle his meaning.

“Oh my lady, I do remember the scene in your chambers,” He intoned. “I am not the worst you must suffer.”

He grinned as you looked to him. Your retort was curtailed by the sound of a horn. You stood at the announcement of the king’s arrival and all bowed as he entered. He wore a rich green brocade slitted with gold silk. The queen’s dress was a similar shade though she did not bear the same poise. Her sharp eyes scanned the hall and fell on you. She pushed her shoulders back and averted her gaze with detest.

Barnes shifted on his feet and peeked over at you out of the corner of his eye. You raised your brows and shook your head. He was not so unconcerned as he pretended to be. The king and queen made their entrance to the blaring of the horn and ascended the dais as their subjects waited and watched.

You kept your head forward as they passed behind you and the queen’s skirts brushed against the legs of your chair. “Snake.” She snarled under her breath for you to hear. You struggled not to flinch at the word and listened as her heels clicked up the step to her perch.

“You handle it better than most.” Barnes whispered as the royal couple sat and their guests followed suit.

“What else can I do but bite my tongue and keep my eyes forward?” You returned as he reached for the decanter and filled his goblet. 

“Wine?” He offered but did not await your answer before he poured it in your cup. “And let me say, I’ve seen a dozen or so women in your position and they often resort to boasting, arrogance even.”

“In my position? And you think--”

“Oh, I know of your modesty,” He assured you as he sipped and servants appeared with platters and began to set them out between silver plates. “Though such restraint is almost unknown at this court. I suspect that’s why the king has remained so persistent.”

You drank from your cup and glanced over at the king. You worried he would overhear. He was entirely distracted by Eleanor’s whispers though barely entertained. He scowled as his eyes swept the ceiling and he huffed in response.

“He has persisted before, has he not?” You kept your voice low.

“A month, maybe two, and only after he obtained his prize.” He paused as a platter was set between you. “You only expedited Rose’s downfall but you didn’t cause it.”

“Is that your expectation? A month, maybe two for me?” You wondered. “It is not that I do not expect the same treatment, only that I’d hope to avoid the same end.”

“I don’t know what to expect,” He shrugged as he speared a slice of venison from the platter. “For so long as I’ve known the king, I’ve not quite seen him as I did in your chamber.”

“Surely he must’ve promised the same to other ladies.” You took a smaller piece and scooped some roasted veggies upon your plate.

“Jewels and fancy baubles only,” He said. “Eleanor is a princess herself, even without the marriage. What he intends is not so easily done as said.”

“And you think he truly means to do it?” You hovered your fork above your plate as you stared at him. Despite the edge of his tongue, he proved to be the most honest at court.

“I think he means to have you,” He cut into his venison, “And there is little that can stop him once he has his mind set.”

You looked to your plate and pushed a piece of potato around the silver. Your stomach knotted as you pondered cutting your meat with one hand.

“My lady,” A whisper distracted you. You looked over as the king leaned down. “I should ask after your health.”

“I am well,” You assured him. “My arm does not bother me so much but I must avoid straining it further.”

“Well enough to dance?” He ventured as his eyes lit up. “Being the Maiden of the Forest, it would be expected you take up the boards.”

“A dance.” You assured him, “But not many more. I fear the sling would make me far more ungainly than I already am.”

“A dance, a smile, I relish in all that you allow me, my lady,” His eyes flicked down for just a moment. “And what of the gifts I have given you?”

Your eyes rounded for a moment before you recalled the opal necklace still hidden in your trunk. “Oh, your highness, how forgetful I am. It has all been so hectic I’ve not even the thought to wear it, though it is the finest piece I’ve ever owned.”

“I should like that you would,” He reproached. “As a marker of my love for you.”

You looked down and nodded. “I will have to remind myself,” You said quietly. “I do forget myself so often.”

“Oh, but lady, do not punish yourself,” He said softly. “For I bear you no anger, I only wish to see you well.”

“And I do thank you for your concern,” You looked up at him. “It means very much.”

“I think of nothing else,” He assured you, “No one else.”

He bowed his head and sat up. The queen’s eyes glared across the room as she ignored her husband’s conversation with you. You sat back and took another drink. Barnes was smiling as he swallowed his mouthful.

“While I admire your grace, I know you are rather adept at rancor. Perhaps you would be best to prove the same to him.” He mused. “Oh, it might solve many problems should you speak with more than a lamb’s tongue.”

“I am honest--”

“Oh but you coat it in honey,” He interjected. “Our king is wise. Should you bite him once, he might just leave you alone.”

“And should he choose to swat me down instead?”

“Despite what you’ve known of him, he is not entirely irrational,” He said coolly. “Perhaps he might realize his wife is not so vile after all.”

“Perhaps,” You mulled as you prodded a slice of carrot, “Or perhaps it is too late for even that.”

👑

The night wore on. Your shoulder ached; from the tension, from the stiff chair, from your general discomfort. The king would lean down to speak to you every now and then and as he did, all in the hall would notice. Though they tried to be subtle, you did not miss their intrusive eyes.

Lord Barnes did not hide his awareness either. At times, he'd lean back and speak to the king around you. The queen's malice radiated from the other side of the king but she would not acknowledge her husband's obvious disregard.

When the meal came to an end, the horn sounded once more and the platters were cleared. Several courses had left guests joyous and half-drunk.

The king stood before the band could begin to pluck. He held a hand up as he waited for silence. His subjects hushed their chatter and looked to him. He smiled back, a beacon of kingly grace.

"And so we close another season. This marks the beginning of winter and the end of our most bountiful season." His voice carried easily across the hall. "As is tradition we must crown our Maiden of the Forest."

You gulped and looked to Barnes. He smirked at the king's words and scoffed. He leaned back and watched nonchalantly as Steven continued. A servant appeared at the wave of his hand.

"If you would, my lady," He nodded to you as he took a circlet of vines and petals from the servant.

You rose stiffly. He offered his free hand and you took it as he guided you up beside him. The queen kept her head high and you peered out across the hall. Your father was turned around in his chair watching proudly. The servant helped remove your cap.

"In the name of the hunt, I name you our Maiden of the Forest." The king announced as he placed the crown of flowers upon your head. "May you reign this night with grace and joy."

"Thank you, your highness, " Your voice was brittle as your head swayed.

"And to close the old season and open the new, let us dance." He declared. "Maiden, would you grant me your first dance?"

You nodded. At first, your throat was too tight to speak. The queen's hand was balled in a fist upon the table. "Yes, your highness," You managed, "If you can forgive my shortfalls, it is yours."

"Then let us dance!" He boomed.

For a moment, no one moved and then all at once, the band picked up and the nobles began to rise from the tables. They filtered out to the floor as the king led you behind the chairs and from the dais. Barnes did not rise and poured himself another cup.

The king pressed his palm to yours as you came to face each other. You felt awkward and unbalanced with your other arm in its sling. As he moved his feet, you shuffled around him. You hadn't thought your dancing could get worse.

"My lady, I am glad to see you well." He cooed. "I admit I was restless with worry for you."

"Your highness." You said curtly and looked around at the other dancers.

He was silent for a moment as you followed the music.

"Have I wronged you, my lady?" He asked.

"Have you? Oh, how can you not see what you do to me? This court reviles me due to your humiliation of the queen. Your declarations that would allude to adultery."

"My lady, I only mean to honour you and your virtue--"

"What you mean and what you have done are not the same. You would crown me with your wife at your side. You would overlook her for me. You would sully my virtue as you claim to protect it." You glanced over at Barnes as he remained at the table. He looked into his cup as he sloshed it around. "And I have treated you with nothing by reverence and yet you persist."

"I have promised you anon that the woman who claims herself as my wife is none such." He hissed. "But I must gather my evidence before I can make it known. Before I can right what is wrong."

"You promise me what you cannot give. You would rob me of my future for your present desire. Your highness, I cannot hold my tongue further and tolerate you as you are so blatant in your disregard." You pulled away from him. A little bite to warn him; to scare him away. "Your majesty I must return to my former chambers and return to you your gift accepted only under duress for I cannot demean myself for you any longer. Not so long as you sit in sin."

He reeled as if you had struck him. You stepped away as he stared at you, his nostrils flared as his eyes searched you. He lingered between fury and despair.

"My lady, you do mistreat me."

"The truth is not always painless, your highness," You said sternly. "And I do not wish to remain the victim of rumour." You lowered your hand. "It cannot be… good night, your highness. "

You bowed and spun on your heel so quickly you nearly slipped. You lifted your skirts to scurry between the bodies. Your flesh was afire as you fled into the corridor.

You took a breath and continued along the stone floor. You heard the door and looked back to the shadow that followed you. The king found you through the flicker of lanterns and turned to trail you. You rounded the corner as you picked up your feet. 

"My lady," He called after you as his boots echoed on the stone. "Please, do not run from me."

You moved as quickly as you could, the motion jolted your shoulder painfully. He was close as you reached the next corner and he caught your hand before you could evade him. He drew you to face him as he looked down at you.

"Why do you spurn me? Why do you accuse me of spite when all I've shown you is kindness?" He pleaded. His grip slid to your wrist and he squeezed. "Why do you delay me if you do not yearn for what I promise you?"

"You're hurting me," You gasped as his hold grew firmer. "Your highness."

"I give and I give and I give," He stepped closer until you were against the wall. "And you withhold yourself from me."

"You scare me," You breathed.  

"I promise you a union, a crown, and all you could desire and yet you reprimand me and let me suffer so," He was against you. He pressed his body to yours and you felt a hardness beneath his belt.

"And I have not pushed you. I have not violated you. I have waited." He ground his pelvis into you as he crushed your injured arm. "I have not taken you as I have dreamt. I have not come into your chambers as you sleep and taken what I desire." 

He let go of your wrist and grabbed your chin. He forced you to look at him. "Because, my lady, I have decided that I will have you. Not just as my mistress, but as my wife, my queen. Because I don't just want that treasure you hide beneath those skirts," He bent so that his breath was upon your face."I want everything you have because you would deny me of the one thing I asked. "

You gaped up at him and trembled. You winced as his weight pushed on your sore shoulder. He leaned in until his nose touched yours.

"And though, at this moment, I could gather your skirts and take you against this wall, I will not," He pushed his hips harder against you. "Because when I do take you, I will be certain that you shall never elude me again." 

He pressed his lips to yours as he held your jaw in place. You struggled as he seemed like to devour you. You were trapped against the stone; terrified and helpless. He pulled away slowly and rubbed along your cheek with his thumb. 

"My lady, remember my benevolence for my restraint frays." He growled. "Though in the end, my desire will not."