Ok So This Is A Tmi And I Will Probably Delete This Later But Safari Fucking Deleted All My Private Tabs

ok so this is a tmi and i will probably delete this later but safari fucking deleted all my private tabs and i lost this hood ass fanfic from a03 it’s like the reader babysits leia and Luke for ani and then she goes on their family trip to the aquarium

I WANT THE MIRROR SCENE 😣🫶🏻

I'm saying this right now for all who will listen -

they fucking BETTER have just as many romance scenes for Penelope and Colin as they did for the other two.

I don't want cutesy little kisses (I mean I do, but...).

I want passionate, hot, steamy scenes because it's what they fucking deserve.

I swear if they pull ANY punches because Penelope isn't as "traditional" as the other girls I will fucking start such a riot, it'll make everyone's heads spin.

thank you and have a good rest of the day

“IM NOT A KID”

Dick x Reader | Y/n aka Robin just saved dicks ass |

tw: u got daddy issues don’t you squidward (iykyk) …. that’s why u reading this 🤣,

• smut, age gap, reader is nineteen and consenting

UNEDITED CUS ITS 4am 😘

⚠️STOP DON’T READ IF SENSITIVE⚠️

“You must be Dick, I’m Y/n the new new robin” you helped him up and smiled as he gave you a confused look . you stuck your hand out so he could shake it

“How did you know I was here?” he wiped off the dust off his suit and fixed his mask. “Batsy sent me and you’re welcome by the way” you rolled your eyes and pulled down the skirt to your robin outfit

“Buy me a drink will ya? meet back here in five i gotta change” you smiled and went to go change.

*

“So you’re the new Robin… but you’re a-“ you cut him off because you already knew what he was going to say. “A girl? yeah so? I just saved your ass” the man chuckled “Yea that’s fair”.

the bar tender approaches the two of you from behind the counter “what can i get for you”. “I’ll take a beer and uh strawberry lemonade for her” he looked at you scanning your features like he was trying to see if you were underage. the bartender nods and walks away to make them. “What are you like sixteen?” he says laughing. “Funny but I’m almost nineteen so technically old enough to drink… grandpa ” you whispered in his ear and rolled ur eyes.

he felt flustered by your sudden move of going close to his ear. “How’d you end up with Bruce?”. the bartender hands you two your drinks and leaves the little area you two are occupying. “it was a year after Bruce lost Jason , i was almost taken advantage of but I fought them hard and he was impressed and took me in” she took a sip of her drink and awkwardly smiled.

“And your family?” he asked taking a generous sip of his beer. “My mom was murdered when I was 15 so I’ve been alone for a while, and I never knew my dad.” he gave you a sympathetic look it almost made you want to cry and embrace him. “I’m sorry y/n” he rubbed your hand with his thumb.

“Is Jason still around or should I say the red hood?” he grinned at you. “Yes he came back to live with Bruce at the manor, sometimes they don’t agree but Bruce really loves him and JJ is sweet to me” you stirred your lemonade and chuckled

the tension between you to was thick you could literally cut it with a knife. dick starred at you like you were the only girl in the world, you wanted to believe in love at first sight but you were way to realistic for that kinda mindset. maybe you were attracted to him because you never had a father figure in your life besides Bruce but hey i don’t judge .

“Why robin you couldn’t be a batgirl? i could see you in babs old suit” he smirk at you. “He told me I could be batgirl once he found another respectable robin” you laughed . “Well looks like you’re gonna be stuck as robin forever, I mean how can u even fight in that skirt ? what if it’s cold or raining?” he asked looking deep into your e/c eyes with his hazel ones.

“I manage! That’s what makes me the best Robin this far cus I can fight in a tight ass skirt and in those ugly ass pants from my winter suit”

*

you two have been talking and laughing for hours after a while you asked him if he’d like to come over to your apartment ( bruce gifted it to u for ur eighteenth birthday) he said yes without hesitation. Dick bought beer and you called a taxi to take you two to your apartment complex it was NICE like as nice as gotham penthouse apartments get .

*

It’s been an hour and you two sat down in your living room downing more beers. “how old are you?” you drunkly said while drinking more of your beer. “I’m turning 28 next month” you grinned and took off your big sweater . “I like how it feels to be around you , we basically spent all day together just talking about my problems and the way u validate me-“

he took you by surprise when he kissed your forehead and rustled your hair like you were a little girl. “I get what you mean kid.” you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm annoyed. “I’m not a kid ok” it took him by surprise when you jumped on his lap and started to kiss him like his kiss was the cure to your issues… maybe it was or maybe you just wanted to kiss him. he kissed back passionately but then pulled away. “We can’t, I should go”

“I know you want me i can feel it poking , nobody has to know ok! It’s not like I’m in love with you” you started kissing his neck and he groaned when you began grinding on his clothed manhood. “Yes keep doing that” his voice started to crack he moaned and groaned as you grinded harder it felt so good.

He pulled off your shirt and unclamped your bra and you took off his button up and started kissing up and down his chest he threw his head back. “Let’s go into my room” you got up from his lap and lead him upstairs to where your room was.

when you got to your room he grinned and threw you on the bed and began sucking your breast and using his other hand to play with the other one. “D-Dick please” your sounds were like music to his ears

*

you sank into his manhood bouncing up and down your noises made him even harder and his praises made you leak with pleasure “Good girl keep going” he grabbed your neck and you moaned as he kept squeezing harder with each thrust.

in the morning you smiled when you saw dick bring you breakfast in bed. maybe this was going to be a whole thing, good forbid if Jason found out 😏

EEK that was my attempt at smut forgive me if it’s bad or to weird 😭 i wanna be an romance author so this was practice :) I’ll get better with time 👌

unfinished but cured my daddy issues, Ben affleck >>

You Can Call Me Bruce...(Part V)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: Age gap, mild swearing (? I think?)

Previous Parts: I, II, III, IV

Dedicated to: everyone who stuck by this story. I apologize for this much delayed update, things had been hectic up until a few days ago, but I’m back now. 

I haven’t tagged anyone in particular because I’ve gone too long to even remember those who requested (please don’t throw rocks), but feel free to inbox and remind me for the next installment–which, most likely, will be the last.

                                                  ~*~*~*~

“You wanted to see me?” Bruce asks.

He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, using his best Batman impression to try and ward off all thoughts that he’s scared. He isn’t scared. He could never be scared. By even harboring such feelings from the start, Bruce knew that it would come to this, and he’s not scared at all because he’s prepared.

He’s prepared to hear Alfred’s disdain.

He’s prepared for judgmental stares and disguised accusations; for wrathful scolding, for raised voices. He’s even ready for things to get physical, worst comes to worst, and Bruce promises he’ll let Alfred win, for he truly deserves all of it what shall be thrown at him.

“Take a seat.” The older man finally speaks, back to the door as he stands at the sink. Water drips from the faucet, drop after drop. It echoes into the otherwise silent room. Bruce moves.

He seats himself at the counter, steepling his hands on top, and with a deep breath, the butler finally turns. Their gazes meet.

“Master Wayne.” He says; to Bruce, it always sounds like a hello or a good morning . Familiar. Routine. Hearing it uttered now with such venom is almost painful.

“You’re quite punctual for things like these.”He says

“Things like what, Alfred?”

“As if you don’t know.”

A silence.

The two friends stare at each other. Neither speaks. Wind whistles through the room, and they sit, reading the lines and wrinkles and creases carved in their faces from all the battles they’ve faced together.

So many.  And saying Bruce doesn’t feel his heart wrench even a little would be a lie.

Alfred is his best-friend. Alfred has always been his best friend. More than anything, he’s almost been like a father to him, and facing him in such a rancorous environment is sickening.

He wants to get up and run away, he now realizes. He wants to elude this conflict. Avoid it. Bury it. If you asked him a second ago if he was afraid, Bruce would have said no, would’ve scoffed at the mere preposition. If you asked him now, he’d say the same thing…

Because he wasn’t afraid.

He was mournful.

Mournful that it had come to this; mournful that he was sitting here, in this kitchen, about to be forced to pick a fight with his best-friend.

“You say you don’t know,” Alfred begins. “…and yet here you sit, wearing that very same scowl of intimidation you give the joker.”

“Is that supposed to make me mad.” Bruce retorts. His voice is harsh,stoic.

He watches the older man’s eyes. And then they soften.

And then Bruce feels a vein in his neck twitch, but he can’t do anything about that, not now. Instead he focuses on Alfred, who just as much is trying to shutter his emotions. This is hard for him too. How can it not be? The two of them are family. To Bruce, Alfred is his only family, and knowing that only makes it harder to pull through.

“Master Wayne…”Alfred says, raising himself to his feet as he saunters over to the sink. The faucet drips and drips in the hanging silence, taunting Bruce.  “I’ve known you all your life. I’ve known you since you were just a boy and I’ve seen you grow. Seen you through all your trials and tribulations, your successes, your failures. I’ve watched become batman and save Gotham and in all that time, I’ve never asked for much.” He pauses, eyes searching, searching desperately for any form of surrender in Bruce’s feature’s.

But he won’t let him have it.

Bruce clenches his jaw. It feels like his teeth just might shatter from the pressure.

“But I ask you now.” He continues.  “Please. Let this one go.”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Alfred.”

“I don’t want to see you going Y/N again, you hear me? I don’t want to even see the two of you in the same room.” He’s straight to the point, not sparing Bruce of the bluntness, and it cuts him like a knife. He tries not show it, clenching his jaw further.

“She’ll be leaving soon.” Alfred continues. “A week. A week and she’ll be gone, and until then I want you to put an end to whatever is going on.”

“Nothing is going on.” Bruce’s voice is leveled and yet firm. Authoritative, like he is a captain ordering his cadet. He can see the scorn, evident and dripping from his features, in Alfred’s face as he scowls.

“Don’t be daft, boy..” he grits. “I saw you, I saw the two of you in your room—“

“We weren’t doing anything!”

“So you mean you were just talking as you said?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

“You mean she was just telling you about her work?”

“Yes!”

“You mean you didn’t try to kiss her?” He bellows, angry, exasperated.

All the blood drains from Bruce’s face.

His skin goes white, as white as snow, as white as the age painting Alfred’s hair. He can feel it: the embarrassment, as now the unspoken is vocalized, the other shoe has dropped. Bruce gulps thickly, and then averts his gaze, breaking his poker face.

“You mean I’m making this up?” Alfred continues. “You mean I didn’t walk in on you ready to soil her innocence.”

“Stop talking like she’s a child.” A vein in Bruce’s neck pops angrily as his fists clench. He knew this was coming right from the start, but hearing it out loud makes him freeze, makes his stomach feel like molten tar. God, how embarrassing. How incriminating.

“Compared to you she is. Compared to you she might as well be in diapers. Age regardless, sir, you’re older. You’re older in soul and you’re older in mind. You’ve seen things….terrible things. That in itself would mark you as ancient, even if you were clocking thirty.”

“You think I don’t know this, Alfred? I do. Goddamn it, I do.” He does. This is why Bruce never wanted this—this is why he kept it hidden away, locked up like a vile and sinful thing that it was; but now it’s out in the open and he feels exposed, vulnerable. They’re telling him things he already knows.

They’re telling him things he doesn’t want to know because knowing them makes him feel even worse. He doesn’t want that and God, he doesn’t want this to be happening but it is and…

“Act like it. You’re not a child.”

Bruce lifts his gaze. “What do you think I plan on doing Alfred? Hmm? Do you think I want to get in her pants?”

“What other motive do—“

“What do you mean what other motive—“

“What is going on?” A voice cuts through their bickering, confused and harried.

Both of them freeze. Bruce feels his heart, formerly rampant and rapidly beating in his chest, still, and he doesn’t want to look, but at the same time it’s tempting because it’s her.

Y/N.

Y/N, standing in the doorway.

Y/N, estranged and weary.

Finally, he gives in and Bruce’s eyes dart to her, raking over her face.  She looks to him. “What’re you two doing?” The young girl asks. “Why are you arguing like this?”

Aflred, standing by the sink, lets his hands slowly lower and unclenches his fist. He swallows. “Y/N….” He admonishes. “Stay out of this.”

“Like I hell I will, Uncle Fred. I just walked in on the two of you nearly tearing each other’s fucking throats out and you think I’m going to let this go?”

He clenches his jaw. “It’s none of your business.”

“Except it is.”

“Y/N.” Bruce cuts through the growing argument, earning the pair’s attention. Y/N’s eyes flare with irritation and the next thing he knows she’s up in his face, but a few inches away.

“You…”The young girl sneers. “What the hell are you doing arguing with him? He’s your family—you’re both each other’s family! You’re not supposed to be spewing hate at each other like this, for Christ sake.”

“You have no right to interrupt like this.” Says Alfred.

Y/N scoffs and rolls her eyes, about to speak, but she’s cut off.

“Go to your room!” He commands, voice dressed in sternness, authoritativeness that Bruce hasn’t heard in so long. He used to use that tone with Bruce when he was just a child, when they’d get into an argument about him disrespecting Alfred or when there needed to be some disciplinary ground rules. It had once been frightening. Hearing it now, however, Bruce feels nothing but scorn well up within him.

His fists clench at his sides as a protectiveness takes over him, and the next thing he knows, he’s standing in front of Y/N, shielding her from her livid uncle. Just to keep from things getting ugly, but he hears something sift behind him. When he turns around, Y/N is glaring at him bitterly, stepping out from behind his burly form with an offended expression marring her features.

“I don’t need you protecting me.” She says, like she’s angry, like him trying to help her is almost as bad as Alfred’s rage. “I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you trying to treat me one, Uncle Fred—and I don’t need you trying to stick up for me when I can do it perfectly fine on my own.”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”

“This is outrageous! Both of you,” Alfred cuts in, and then all hell breaks loose, because Y/N starts to argue with him.

Bruce watches from the sidelines, amazed and frightened. It’s a vicious battle. Words fly from person to person, pure venom, bitter, angry. Y/N brings up their family and how everybody still sees her as a baby, and Alfred retaliates by reminding her off all the bad decisions she’s made that have caused that. He’s yelling, going red in the face. It isn’t until he hears a small sniffle that Bruce realizes Y/N is crying.

“Huh, see that—grown girls don’t cry when you tell them the truth!” Alfred yells.

“Shut up! J-just…just shut up.” Y/N drags her hand across her face, trying to dry her eyes but instead smearing her makeup. The entire image is terribly morbid. Her face is red and blotchy, and there are dark trails of mascara running down her cheeks. She’s crying, sobbing, hiccupping and grappling for air to feel her lungs.

Bruce can’t take it.

“Enough, Alfred!” He cuts in, stepping in front of the young girl. This time Y/N doesn’t shove him out of the way; instead, she cowers behind him, accepts his protection, like a weak dog.

He’s shielding her like a large building, sturdy and strong and trying his ebst not to throw a fist into the elder-man’s jaw. “Jesus, Alfred, you didn’t have to be so harsh. What’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t do this master Wayne!” Alfred’s voice is leveled, dangerously low. He has calmed. The vein in his neck has gone back into hiding, but even then, his face is still the color of blood.

“I’m going to make it easy for all of us; either I go, or she does.”

“What?” Both Bruce and Y/N say in unison, before he cans art to feel it. It takes moment. A second. Then it sets in, the realization of what he’s saying.

A pang of pain shooting through him like an arrow, Bruce feels his body go cold.

Alfred’s eyes hold a pain similar to his that say that this isn’t easy for him either. This isn’t what he wants. But what other choice does he have?

“You heard, master Wayne.” The elder man tries to coat his voice with a strength that betrays him when it almost cracks. “It’s either I stay, or she does.”

“Alfred…”

“This entire situation has gone too out of hand. For Christ-sake, Bruce—“ Bruce. Alfred rarely—never—calls him Bruce. He has always been Master, to him. Master Wayne. Sir. Variants of a formality that have never hurt him as much as hearing his own name has now.

Memories of his boyhood flood Bruce, a time when Alfred called him that, the only time. It was so brief. He became Sir at the tender age of thirteen. Years later, and the title has been revoked.

Bruce.

“—I can’t let this happen. Do you realize how much is at stake here? Do you realize how badly the two of you would be together? Y/N, you still have your studies to tend to.”

“I know.”

“Then bloody act like it.”

“Alfred…” Bruce cuts in, and all eyes turn to him.

The room quiets momentarily.

Alfred’s eyes glaze over as he looks at him. Their gazes lock—both pained, both not wanting this to fall through. Why is he letting it, then? Why won’t Bruce just do something, he wonders, until he realizes there’s little to do.

“You have until tomorrow to choose. If you don’t have answer by dawn—” Alfred’s eyes go to Y/N. There are tears staining the apples of her cheeks. “—then I make the final decision. Y/N leaves. You own up to your mistake, and clean up this bloody mess you’ve made.” He says and then, before Bruce, or Y/n or the wind that howls through the hallway, can get anything in, he turns and leaves.

Hiss jaw clenches, and he gulps thickly. The room is silent. Footsteps are heard padding away, further and further, until the only sound left is that of Bruce’s heart wrenching in his chest. 

                                                    ~*~*~*~

Her heart hammers in her chest.

Her breath feels hot and shallow and not enough, and her skin is drained of all its blood and colorless. She’s standing outside his bedroom door. Outside she can hear the hoot of an owl and the whisper of the wind. It’s two in the morning. It’s cold and she’s scared and Y/N immediately regrets having gotten out of bed to come and do this, because nothing good can come of it.

Turn back now, her mind says. Go back to bed. Go back to silence. Don’t tell him how you feel.

But she doesn’t listen.

She knocks gingerly, but it’s feint and barely audible, so she tries once more, curling her fist tighter this time. She watches Bruce, laying in bed with his back to her, stir and then slowly sit up.

“Yeah..?” He groggily asks, rubbing his eyes.

The young girl bites her lip and wrings her hands harder together, her stomach knotting further.

She’s standing in the doorway, one hand up on the wooden frame and the other rested tenderly on the crook of her neck. Her eyes, wet and red, search the darkness for Bruce’s silhouette. He’s sitting at the edge of his bed, sleepy-eyed and dazed as he looks at her.

And y/n feels a chill run down her spine when her gaze locks onto his.

He knows.

Uncle Fred told him. Uncle Fred told him everything. Now, even just standing before him feels so shameful and embarrassing,  like she’s clad in nothing but her skin suit, like she’s exposed. Because she is. Because Bruce knows. Because….

“I thought you were asleep.” He says, pulling her from her reverie.

Y/N gulps as sweat beads at the nape of her neck. He’s awake. At least, she thinks, that spares her the task of waking him up.

“Not yet. I’m…” she stumbles. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“Nightmares?”

“I wish.” A sardonic laugh escapes the elder man. Y/N clinches her hands tighter together. The room is dark and hot and she can feel her clothes clinging to her body like flesh to her bones.

Bruce cards a hand through his hair, tired, worn out. Even if she wanted to, Y/N wouldn’t be able to dismiss his claims of insomnia—he looks exhausted. Rings of grey brim his eyes and the light once glinting fiercely and vivacious in them has dulled down.

Bruce looks tired. Bruce is tired.

Bruce knows.

“Let’s just say I have a lot to think about.” He explains after a silence.  “That kind of things keeps you up at night, you know?”

“ I know.” She nods curtly, biting her lip. She wants to say something in response—anything—but all coherence escapes her. She’s at loss for words, because what can she say?

The bomb dropped a few hours ago still lingers in the air of the house. It’s been two hours since Uncle Fred left the house; he was emotional and angry when she went to talk to him and he ended up storming out and driving off for a drink (or twenty). Y/N doesn’t mention this to Bruce.

Instead, she tries to gather her thoughts and courage and say something, because who will if not her.

“I….” She starts. His head lifts, attention befalling the young girl.

His brow then furrows softly. “Are…you feeling okay?”

“Uh—yeah…I…I am.”

“You don’t seem like it.”

“Well, not getting any sleep will do that to you.” She quips.

He nods slowly. “Right….”

A silence hangs between them. Neither party says anything for a while, and it’s painful because she came here to speak, to tell him how she felt, to vocalize all this rampant emotion that won’t cease within her, and so Y/N forces the words out of her mouth.

“I have something to tell you.” She says.  She swallows, trying to mollify her nerves. You can do this, Y/N tells herself. You will do this.

“I…Uncle Fred told you already, didn’t he?”

Bruce is quiet.

She waits for a response, one that doesn’t come, until she has top force herself to speak up once more.

“I said Uncl—“

“I heard what you said.” He says curtly, cutting her off.

Y/N closes her mouth, and then mutters a quiet oh. Her heart is racing—God, is it racing—and her lungs constrict and the blood drains from her fingertips and from her face and from her, and Bruce is looking at her with inquisitive eyes that egg her on.

“I know that he told you—obviously. It’s uhm….it’s okay, if you know” Y/N explains, trying (and failing) to not let the desperation seep into her voice. “I wanted to tell you myself, of course, but, having somebody else do it is okay, because the outcome is still the same. You still know.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“And if I want to?”

“Then you have to stop. Just,…” Bruce sighs, eyes sliding over her face from a few inches away. The room is dim and quiet and her heart is in her throat, but it doesn’t matter, because Bruce is so close, and he knows.

“Just…”.” His voice is different, baring an edge and uncertainty that she has never witnessed before that makes things seem even more eerie. His eyes, a rich grey, bore into hers.

“Stop this, Y/N. Please. Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

“I’m not trying to.” Her eyes water and she shakes her head softly. “Bruce, I…”

“Y/N..”

They’re less than inches apart. Neither of them dare to break eye contact, only leaning closer in, and closer in, and Y/N’s eyes begin to flutter shut, and Bruce doesn’t pull away, and it feels as though the world is fragmented on a cosmic level when their lips meet.

Their mouths are pressed together, and they kiss.

They kiss.

His tongue is warm and wet as runs along her lips. Y/N gladly lets it, lifting her hand to his head to real him closer in. She presses herself flush to his form. Bruce reciprocates, cupping her face in both his hands and maneuvering his lips against hers, and—

“Bruce—“ Y/N tries to speak.

“Just stop.” His breath fans against her skin, against her nose. She lets out a breathy moan as he captures her lips once more, feeling her heart flutter like a cage of untamed birds.

Her hands slide through Bruce’s hair like water when she feels his hands leave her face and go to her waist. He hoists her up, and she jumps, wrapping her legs around him, not caring what they’re doing or what they’re about to do because, god, this feels too good.

They make their way to his bed. Fall onto it. Kiss, touch. Y/N swears that she can feel her soul floating higher and higher until it’s of her body and into the astral plane, watching their two bodies mould together upon the covers. Bruce’s hand slides beneath the fabric of her shirt and she feels a jolt of pleasure at the contact.

“Bruce…” She pants, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He dips his head and slides his lips down to her jaw, to her neck until they’re peppering desperate, wet kisses along her collarbone.  The young girl moans at the contact; her mind is fogging up like a car window on a misty evening. Fear clutches her heart in its icy talons and gives it a firm squeeze. This is wrong—God, this is all so wrong, that she’s certain of as much as she is that the sky is blue…

But Y/N doesn’t want it to stop.

                                               ~*~*~*~*~ Hopefully the wait was worthwhile lol

If you guys enjoyed this then go ahead and like, reblog or just follow to catch any more imagines I post. With my new computer finally in my possession, expect more updates and oneshots coming in.

As always, have a nice day!

THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME

tewkesbury x fem!reader

warnings: old time values, misogyny, mature themes, marriage of convenience, love at first sight (tewesbury)

songs: until i found you - stephen sanchez, i hear a symphony- cody fry, good old fashion lover boy - queen, enchanted- taylor swift, head over heels - tears for fears,

the viscount tewkesbury believed in true love. he believed that his perfect match was somewhere out there, he once thought his perfect match was enola holmes but after confessing his feelings to her she sadly shot him down, she didn’t feel the same way at all, not even in the slightest bit.

tewkesbury decided that it was time to move on, he was twenty but he was the viscount, apart of the house of lords and most importantly he wanted a wife to spend time with and a family of his own to take care of. he told his mom that he was interested in finding a match this season and she was more than excited she was absolutely thrilled for him. she really wanted a daughter in law… someone to take her place as viscountess.

not even a week later they had gotten dozens of invites to balls but to tewkesbury disappointment he didn’t find anyone who sparked his interests, but he wasn’t one to give up, he’d attend two more balls this week, he hoped he had better luck.

the lady y/n bennett would make her debut into society at the watson ball tomorrow night, she was very excited. she loved getting all dressed up, she loved party’s and dancing. there was one thing that y/n didn’t love and that was love itself. she didn’t really really hate love she just disliked it a lot.

she didn’t want to get married so quickly but her father was very eager to marry her off to an earl or perhaps a duke. her father was an earl but he wanted his daughter to marry someone with a higher title then himself. y/ns mother was one of the reasons y/n didn’t really believe in love, her mother taught her that it didn’t matter what he looked like or how he acted if he had a higher title you say yes. well now she’s dead so your fate was in your fathers hands

your mother was well, decent but she never really showed you any love or payed u any attention, she couldn’t care less that you excelled at academics. she only cared about your looks. she fell ill last year and died before the season started.

you knew most men only saw women as cattle, they’d use them to breed an heir and that’s about it. men didn’t care if you had a personality or hobbies, as long as you looked decent and had good “birthing hips”. you prayed that at least a decent looking man took interest in you. oh did u have a storm coming.

•

it was the day of the watson ball and you were both excited and extremely nervous, you wore a light purple gown with grey accents. your hair was styled. your ladies maids did your makeup and picked your shoes. after you were all finished you headed down stairs to the living room area. your father was his usual self, serious but very loving towards you.

“y/n you look pretty, your mother would be very proud” he smiled and you nodded and gave a warm smile back. “we should head to the watsons the way isn’t far but i would like to get this over with” he let out a sigh and you followed him to the door.

at bashilwether hall

tewkesbury was trying to remain positive about tonight’s festivities, his mother constantly reminding him that new eligible young ladies would be attending. he just wanted someone to love, someone to start a family with. he was getting awfully bored at bashilwether hall, all those rooms but no kids to fill them up, most men his age would wait until the age of one and thirty to tie themselves down but he was different he didn’t just run on lust. he wanted love.

he and his mother caroline stepped into their carriage and made their way to the watsons manor for their annual first season ball. his mother tried to make small talk by telling him about some of the young ladies that would be attending. “i hear lady bennett is simply breathtaking, maybe you shall make her your marchioness” caroline said in a cheery voice. the young man muttered “maybe mother”

“perhaps lady daphne watson she’s freshly debuted in society, I hear she watercolors” caroline chuckled. “is she well read? does she like flowers?” he questioned. “son… none of these young ladies will tick everything off in your list”.

• 20 minutes later

tewkesbury standing by the dessert table munching on mini chocolate cakes. it had been twenty minutes and still no young lady had ignited a spark in him. many mamas shoved their daughters down his throat. everyone was dancing and mingling but him. the ballroom door was open and it revealed a breath taking young women and who he hoped was her father. he noticed other gentleman take a liking to her. he saw sir peters practically run towards her. this mystery girl in purple was the one for him. he shall have her, she shall become viscountess tewkesbury.

she and sir peters were now dancing, his jaw clenched. this wasn’t a diamond in the rough situation she was like a diamond in the clearest water. a diamond that he and every other lord and maybe even lady wanted. viscount tewkesbury was different from the other men, he was young and more open minded. he was all for women’s rights.

he watched as the lady in purple swayed and danced with dukes, earls and even other viscounts but she didn’t really looked interested in any of them, so he was going to sweep you off your feet and become your knight and shining armor. he knew if anything about courting it’s best to talk to the lady’s father.

so that he did. he walked across the room and introduced himself. “viscount tewkesbury the marquis of bashilwether” he flashed his charming smile. the older gentleman shook his hand and stated his name back. “earl of davenport, edmund bennett”. after conversing with the gentleman for a good thirty minutes he managed to make the man laugh….. edmund hadn’t laughed since his wife died.

“you should meet my daughter. the young lady in light purple. y/n bennett” he pointed out his daughter. “i’d be honored. she’s very beautiful.” he almost stuttered. “oh look the music stopped, let me go fetch my daughter. stay put son.” he patted his arm and went to get his daughter.

after a few minutes of y/ns father shooing away men they finally approached the young handsome viscount. “viscount tewkesbury, this is my daughter’s the honorable y/n bennett.” y/n bowed but she looked rather bored. “viscount tewkesbury the marquess of bashilwether” he grinned and kissed her gloved hand. “y/n darling why don’t you tell the viscount of your hobbies” the man gave his daughter a little nudge. “i- i like to read,write um- walks in my garden. i love flowers” that was the moment tewkesbury knew she was the love of his life. “flowers? something we have in common what’s your favorite lady bennett” before she could answer an much older man approach them. “sir melton, you are very lovely may i have this dance?” tewkesbury mentally cursed at the man, he was way to old to be courting a freshly debuted women. “actually sir. i owe the viscount here a dance” tewkesbury got the hint and took her by the arm. “the viscount has the last slot on her dance card, hurry on children” y/ns father let out taking a drink of his liquor.

with that said you and tewkesbury strolled to the dance floor. “your gown is amazing.” you smiled not to big but it was there. “thank you my lord”. another song started playing and they began to waltz. tewkesbury admired her as she spun around. after a couple minutes of silence between them, y/n bennett spoke with a genuine tone and not a blank one like before. “hyacinths.” tewkesbury was caught by a surprise by her sudden attitude change. “pardon?” he pretended he didn’t hear but… he did.

“if i had to choose a favorite it’d be the hyacinth flower” she smiled and her smile made his legs turn to jelly. “lovely flower for a lovely girl” the music stopped and you bowed. he escorted you back to your father on the other side of the room. “you two would make such a lovely pair” tewkesbury wanted to ask him for your hand already but he knew it was to soon and frowned upon. “father.” y/n grumbled.

“well we should get going. if u intend to court my daughter you best get on the list of callers. a lot have taken interest” you wanted to dig yourself in the ground. “i fully intend to win your daughters hand” he bowed. “it brings me such despair to say goodbye, until tomorrow” you blushed a little

[the carriage ride home]

tewkesbury talked his mothers ear off, he explained to her his plan on winning your heart. caroline was just happy that he was finally happy. “she’s my true love mother, i was foolish to think it was enola” caroline just smiled and nodded. “what will you bring her? when u call on her tomorrow.” she yawned. “hyacinth flowers and maybe some sweets.” “i think i predicted this, i knew you’d pick ms bennett she’s very beautiful and talented.” his mother smiled.

“i was talking to her father and he seems eager to marry her off. it was her mothers wish. she died before the season started.” caroline let out a soft sigh. “how sad. i hope he doesn’t marry her off to the first person that asks. i’d like the engagement ring father gave you.” he cleared his throat. “of course son, i can’t wait for a daughter in law and grandchildren, it won’t be so empty” she smiled just thinking about it. little versions of her son running around would bring her so much joy.

•

the ride home in your carriage was much more quiet. eventually your father broke the silence once he coughed. “the viscount tewkesbury would be a perfect match my dear. he’s only a couple years older than you, he’ll make a fine husband” he let out. you didn’t want to marry this fast. you just wanted to enjoy the season. “he’s alright i suppose” you just closed your eyes wanting to drift off to sleep to avoid this conversation. “duke haselby also was very smitten with you. maybe the duke of hastings he seemed very kind to you.” you ignored him and kept your eyes closed hoping he’d think you were asleep.

“Y/N!” your father raised his voice. you pretended to just wake. “yes father?” you said in a sleepy voice. “I spoke to the boys mother and tewkesbury is very set on marrying this season. he’s going to be on one knee in a fortnight.” you sighed frowning a bit. “I don’t want to wed this fast father, why can’t i just wait until the season is over.” you said in a serious tone giving your father the death glare. “your mother wanted u to…. her dying wish. you’re lucky she’s not here with us, she would’ve married you off to old duke wellings” he yelled and you felt tears stream down your face. “I love you dear. i just want what’s best for you.” you cried until you reached home.

•

it was the next morning and your ladies maids woke you up to prepare you for breakfast. one your ladies maids told you that your father requested that you eat in your room so you can get prepared for the evening. suitors would probably burst down your door in about five hours so you sighed and ate your fruit salad and tea. “I’d like to wear my pink dress today. and i want my hair to be pinned up please” your maid’s comply almost immediately. one gets your pink dress and the others get to work on undressing you to prepare you for a bath.

after your bath, your maid start to do your hair and another one applys makeup. you start to think about what you’ll say to suitors. you don’t want to embarrass your father but maybe if u act unlikable the suitors will leave and never come back. there is both upsides and downsides to that plan. you just hoped and prayed he didn’t show up, tewkesbury was handsome and very wealthy but he just seemed so in love with you and you didn’t like that. love in general made u feel a little weird. you loved your father and uncle but that was family love not romantic. after a while you were done getting ready so you went downstairs to the living room where you knew your father would be residing.

“the callers should be here in an hour” your father grumbled while he read a news sheet. you sighed and sat down on the sofa with your favorite book in hand. a maid entered the room and your father ordered for her to alert the chef to bring out pastries and tea and finger sandwiches for the guests. you rolled your eyes. an hour passed and already you had 14 callers lined up at the door waiting for their turn to meet you. another hour passed and you’ve seen about twenty men, that was way more than you expected but tewkesbury didn’t show.

the last suitor left as his time was up, he wished you and your father a good evening and left. you could tell your father was angry, probably because stupid tewkesbury didn’t show up, he probably realized that love is stupid and he doesn’t like me but before you could bask in your victory, there he was with flowers and chocolate in hand. the butler announced him and your dad grinned. “viscount tewkesbury the marquess of basilwether” the viscount bowed and you got up and did the same.

“i’m sorry i’m late, paperwork got the best of me. here” he handed you a bouquet of hyacinths and a chocolate box, he remembered your favorite flower so you decided to play nice for now. “thank you my lord they are very lovely.” you stared at the flowers in awe, you alerted your maid to take the flowers up to your bedchamber. “should we sit? i’d love to talk more about you. what’s your favorite colors?” you looked at your father who gave you a look of approval so you smiled and sat down next to tewkesbury.

“well if you mean dress colors, i suppose pinks, blues and purples- OH and greens. i love green in everything.” your voice became more cheery and he adored that. “you do look beautiful in purple. i bet you do look stunning in a green one.” he smiled. after some hours of talking he fell more and more in love with you, you checked off everything in his list. loves flowers check! beautiful check! loves to read check. there was just one more thing to ask.

“do you like children?” your eyes widened. he already talks of children? you two aren’t even engaged. “i do” you just smiled because yeah you hated love and the idea of marrying but you loved kids, you especially had a soft spot for your aunts twins. she would sometimes bring her baby’s over when she visits you. you loved them. you didn’t have much family. just your dad, uncle and your mothers sister and her twin sons. “how many would you want?” he cleared his throat clearly nervous. you blinked trying to think of what to say. should you be honest or should you be realistic?? but before you could figure it out your brain just muttered it out for you. “four! three boys and one girl” you saw his eyes soften. “I think that’s a perfect amount of children, you’d be a perfect mother.” he touched your hand and for a second it felt like you two were already married and expecting. “uh thank you my lord, im sure you’d be great father.” he blushed.

after a while he talked to your father, then as it was getting late he left. you knew this wasn’t gonna be the last time you see him. oh no! this was just the beginning.

four weeks later

it had only been four weeks since they met but tewkesbury was already one hundred percent sure he wanted you now and forever. so he planned on asking for your hand at tonight’s ball. he was so happy about his future for once. you two would get married in a couple months and then you’d move in with him, you’d start taking on some of the viscountess duty’s and then maybe in a years time…. you’d have children.

an hour passed and he let other men dance with you because he knew you’d be his very very soon. he spotted edmund and informed him of everything. your father was excited he shook the boys hand gave him permission. “you have my blessing” your father happily said while him and tewkesbury raised their cups for a toast. you were dancing with a duke and so very oblivious to what your father agreed to.

after a while you started snacking at the dessert table. there you saw your father and tewkesbury talking but not just how normal gentleman talk like how a family would talk. you wanted to yell at your father and ask him what they were talking about. you were wearing a yellow gown, your father picked it. it wasn’t hideous but still yellow was just not the color you were feeling on this cold fall night. you would’ve wore a dark purple if you had the choice.

you started to feel tired so you walked across the ballroom and alerted your father that you wanted to go home. he grunted probably annoyed at you but he agreed and he apologized to tewkesbury for cutting there conversation short.

•

the carriage ride was peaceful until your father cleared this throat. “I know you’ve only knew the viscount for a while now but-“ you cut him off and this time you were going to be honest. “he’s great father. very handsome and yes he sent me a mountain of gifts but I don’t want to marry him” you’re fathers face turned purple… he was going to freak out. he was going to yell at you and you knew it.

“Being a marchioness is an honor you know!, an honor you will get used to” he calmly said. he didn’t yell. “I don’t want to be married, I’m only eighteen i just left the schoolroom father. can’t i just participate in next year’s season ill be nineteen and ready.” your father scoffed. edmund cleared his throat and simply said. “if the viscount tewkesbury proposes to you…” he huffed. “you will accept with a smile on your face” tears came out of your eyes as you pleaded with him. “do u understand me girl?”

“yes father.” was all you could say. you knew that viscount tewkesbury would propose soon, and you’d have to say yes… with a smile on your face.

•

it was about a week later, it was a friday morning and you got up bathed, brushed your hair and got dressed. the night before your father told you tewkesbury and his mother caroline were coming over for dinner, he also told you to wear your new blue dress with the gold detail. you knew that this was a proposal dinner. you sighed. the ladies maids left your room as you huffed and threw yourself on your bed. hopefully your makeup wasn’t smudged.

you woke up to the sound of your ladies maid calling your name out. “ms bennett? miss? y/n?.” she shook you up. did you seriously fall asleep? “miss it’s been hours the viscount will be here soon, let’s get you freshened up.” you did as she said and to your surprise it was already dark outside… YOU SLEPT THAT LONG??!!!!!. you jumped out of bed and looked in your mirror. “I’ll just fix your hair miss, your makeup is still on” and so you let her. she did it quickly and you thanked her. you basically ran down the stairs into the dinning room.

“daughter our guests will arriving soon, take your seat. if tonight is thee night.. you shall do as your told.” he chuckled drinking the brandy from his cup. “i get it” you sat down and started mentally planning your death. thirty minutes passed and tewkesbury and his mother arrived, you got up from your seat and bowed to them both. caroline walked over to you looking you up and down and she hugged you. it felt nice… motherly love you never got. you hugged back and after a minute or two you both pulled away.

dinner went by fine, your dad and tewkesbury bonded over well… you. you and caroline had so much in common. she told you that in bashilwether they had a french modiste who did amazing dresses with embroidery. dessert came around and it was probably your favorite the chefs ever made. it was a chocolate croissant. after dessert, you four took the party into the living room where you and caroline continued to talk. the night was going well until tewkesbury walked over to you and got down on his knees. “will you do me the honor of becoming- viscountess tewkesbury the marchioness of bashilwether? be my wife??” you looked to your father who gave you a stern look, you wanted to cry.

“yes, i would be honored” caroline cheered and so did your father and the servants. tewkesbury slipped the ring on your finger and got up and hugged you. carrying you and spinning you. you put on a fake smile, this was going to be your new life.

THE DANCE OF THE BLACK WIDOW

bruce wayne x black widow! reader. this is based on the gotham verse but you can picture any bruce you want :3.

playlist: i did something bad - taylor swift, bellow the surface - griffinila, you don’t own me - saygrace, cardigan - taylor swift, static - steve lacy , dark red - steve lacy , softcore - tnh

[ a widow is trained like a machine, meant to have no emotions, no chance of feeling love…. but what if bruce wayne, the man she is protecting teaches her how to love. ]

[october 1st ]

“number 001, enter” dreykov called out to you, he was the owner and founder of the red room. the place you had trained at since you were a child, sat next to him was oswald cobblepot aka the penguin. you entered the big office room and you bowed your head to both men. “001, this is my friend and our new client, penguin.” dreykov smiled at you.

“hello mr. penguin, how may i be of use.” you turned to him and you saw his face light up. dreykov gave you the look. the look was kinda like a green light of sorts, like a code for ~go ahead show off your skills~. dreykov whistled and two big men entered the room, you walked down to a corner of the room, the men followed and when dreykov banged his fist on his desk you got to work, you punched and kicked and flipped both dudes until they dropped on the floor.

they were both bloody and bruised while you didn’t even have a scratch on you. “she’s amazing, my god!!” oswald clapped and laughed like a mad man. dreykov grinned. penguin looked at you ignoring dreykov. “what else can you do.”

“karate, judo, kung fu, wrestling and i’m trained in acrobatics.” your voice sounded almost emotionless and that’s what oswald liked most about you. “she’s skilled in every combat style, she’s a master assassin” you nodded. “I might know of a certain billionaire who might be interested in her” penguin smiled. “bruce wayne? he’s mere boy. what could he use my widow for?” dreykov rolled his eyes.

“all these villains want to kill him. a widow will do him good.” penguin laughed. you swore to god that dreykov gave a genuine smile. “why did u request 001. she’s fresh. i have more experienced widows.” he was right, you just started getting missions at fifteen. other widows like yelena have had over twenty eight years of experience. so why did he want you?.

“bruce is a man of particular taste, y/n is a young beautifully… dangerous woman, just his type”. after about ten minutes of discussion, dreykov dismissed you and told you to pack your things. if things go according to the plan bruce wayne would bid on you and win. you didn’t know why dreykov and oswald wanted bruce to bid on you? but you were raised to follow orders not to question them. widows just do. they don’t ask why and they never said No.

that night you returned to your chambers and started packing your things. all your belongings fit into one medium sized suitcase. you’ve done research on bruce, how his parents died. how villians want him dead. the things he cares about the most some theif named selina kyle, his butler alfred pennyworth.

it was the night of oswalds auction you changed into your stealth suit. it was black with a red hourglass logo on the belt. all widows had white hourglasses on their suits, but dreykov made yours red you never knew why. a handler woman named lorna came and escorted you outside where a limo was waiting for you. you grabbed your suitcase and opened the door. on one side it was the penguin and dreykov.

you sat down on the right side of the limo and sighed. this was going to be a long mission. Oswald cleared his throat “don’t worry, this is only temporary, right?”. dreykov nodded grinning a bit. “right. you’ll be back in two months.” he grabbed champagne and poured himself a glass.

•

you were tucked away in a corner with dreykov watching bidders bid on top of the line weapons, historical paintings that should have been givin to the gotham museum. you kept your eye on bruce he was bidding on some painting, all night he was just reckless spending money. “I LOVE ART. I LOVE IT! YEA” he screamed you weren’t even close to him at all but he was still so loud. “that kids an absolutely brat but he’s definitely gonna love you.” dreykov glanced up at you patting you on your shoulders. “why? does he need to love me.” you cleared your throat. “all in good time my dear.” he chuckled.

you heard bruce and a woman with a white bob have a bidding war over a knife. a knife for god sakes. “woah ms kean. that’s a lot of money, for someone like you” bruce shouted. what an asshole you thought. “TWO MILLION DOLLARS”. bruce just spent two million dollars on a stupid looking knife. you saw oswald run to the stand and bang the wooden gavel. “SOLD! to mr. bruce wayne” people applauded. dreykov chuckled. penguin gave dreykov the signal. penguin was going to go get him interested in well basically renting you.

bruce’s pov:

“i do love seeing that woman lose.” oswald laughed and applauded me. i gave him a fake cocky smile. i was still supposed to be acting like a complete brat after all. he came closer to me and whispered. “a little piece of friendly advice. barbara kean does not give up easily” i nodded pretending to be looking concerned. “she will be coming for that knife. i would just,uh, keep a close eye on it if i were you” oswald grinned. “or you could pay someone else to do it. like a highly trained assassin. she’s the best of the best. they call her a widow. im auctioning her off for two months.” oswald whispered even lower. now he kinda was peeking my interest. “i think you’d like her. you could use a henchman or in this case a henchwomen.” he patted my shoulders and walked back up to the stage. who was he talking about?

“well there’s a new wrinkle, isn’t it?” alfred sighed. “we should stay for the last item. i’d like to see her.” i turned my head back to the stage. “her? you do have a taste for the dangerous. don’t you master b” i rolled my eyes and chuckled. “i do need as much help as i can get against ra’s al ghul” i whispered.

oswald brought up a girl in a black jumpsuit on stage. she was well gorgeous , h/c hair, e/c eyes and a beautiful complexion. she had a a gun strapped on her left thigh. a red hourglass logo was on her belt. “a trained widow assassin. two months of safety guaranteed. she’s made to kill.” oswald laughed. the girl had said nothing. not a word. “can i get a thousand dollars.” i was about to raise my hand to bid but then a old guy in a red suit came close to the auction stage. “three thousand dollars.” the old guy muttered oswalds face changed to an annoyed look.

“five thousand dollars and 89 cents.” i raised my hand but this creep kept bidding more. “fuck off” I told him. i don’t know why but i needed to be near her. “a million and fifteen cents” oswald winked at me and raised his gavel to bang it on the desk. “SOLD! to mr bruce wayne again.” some people clapped, the others gave me dirty looks.

•

dreykov grabbed your suitcase and your hand and escorted you to bruce . you kept a smile on your face and you had your hands to the side, almost dangling over your gun. “mr. wayne. congratulations this is 001. my personal favorite widow” dreykov chuckled a bit. “so she’s a bodyguard?” alfred questioned. “yes and so much more. she has many different talents, ill pick her up november 30th unless you decide to rent her again. you bowed your head before speaking. “mr.wayne, i am at your service.” he smiled and shook your hand.

you shook alfreds hand and greeted him. “mr pennyworth” you bowed. “no need for that child.” he smiled. you were put off by it, it’s like a fake smile. maybe he felt bad for you. but you didn’t really know. you haven’t felt anything. only anger and fear. “so i’ll let you get going.” dreykov handed you your suitcase and left, probably going to find penguin. you clutched your suitcase but suddenly alfred grabbed your suitcase from your hands. “alright master wayne. miss 001. let’s get going.”

the car ride to bruce’s home was really awkward. he kept asking you questions about dreykov and about widows, you gave him very vague answers. “why do they call you 001?” he asked. “i don’t know. dreykov picked it out.” you said blank faced. “widows don’t have names?” he asked like a curious boy. a complete 180 from what u seen him act like at the auction. “some do. dreykov gives us names when he thinks we deserve it.” you sighed it was chilly in his car. alfred watched you two from the rear view window. “alfred when we reach the manner could you prepare tea, i have a lot of questions for 001”

• 

“don’t you feel that its dehumanizing that dreykov auctioned you off.” bruce sips his tea as alfred pours you some. “well i don’t really feel much of anything really. dreykov is like a father. this is how i repay him.” you bowed your head to alfred and sipped your tea. “how long have you been um- uh?” he choked on his words. “widowing? since I was fifteen so 4 and a half years.” his eyes wandered around your face. “you’re alovely miss. why become something so deadly” the older man asked while taking a seat next to bruce at the dinning table. “girls are often under looked by men. i use my lovely face to manipulate men and then I shoot them dead” alfreds eyebrows raised.

you really shouldn’t be sharing any of this with bruce but you did anyways it just felt natural talking to him. “i noticed at the auction earlier. that you have a red hourglass on your belt.” bruce placed a scone on your plate with some tongs. “it’s a symbol all widows agents have but only mine is red.” it wasn’t necessary to tell him the last bit, yet you did. “the black widow has an red hourglass marking” he bit into his scone. “i like it. that spider is deadly” you grinned “the name suits you well. 001 the black widow. doesn’t it alfred?”. “yes sir but she’ll need a name we won’t be calling her a bloody number.” alfred chuckled.

“im sure we will come up with something but in the meantime we will call her widow. is that ok with you.” he looked to you. “of course sir.”

[bruce’s study ]

it was big and rustic looking. lots of books on fancy looking shelves. he sat down on his chair in front of a desk. you adjusted your a suit a bit and made sure your gun was loaded and ready, as well as your escrima sticks. “do you ever have days off?” oh god more questions you thought. “nope. i love this job.” eh it was half true. “i don’t really know you but something tells me that i want to”

“mr. wayne there’s nothing to know.” you sat down on the couch near the desk. “on the contrary. i think there’s much to learn.” he grinned. bastard. you were feeling things you shouldn’t have. COULDN’T HAVE. widows don’t get butterflies in their stomachs. they don’t deserve it. love. you wouldn’t even know what it’d feel like. widows are basically like machines.

“i think i sense something sir. don’t be alarmed but im going to turn off your lights. stay put.” you walk over to the light switch and switch it off.

you stood very close to the window. you signaled to bruce to keep quiet. a couple seconds later a shadowy figure appeared in his study. you ran up and used your thighs to flip her over and on top of the ground. bruce turned his desk lamp on. “selina?” bruce said slowly like he wasn’t sure. “should I finish her off sir” you reached for your gun that rested on your thigh. “no. let her get up” you did as you were told. “ow! so this is the tramp you hired huh?” selina chuckled . “watch how you address her. she’s my widow.” he raised his voice just a little bit.

you felt a vibe between them. maybe they used to go out you thought. “apologies. we were expecting some else” bruce sighed. “who?” selina scoffed. “doesn’t matter. what are you doing here?” he sounded genuinely curious. you walked over to bruce’s side. you clutched your gun in you hands. you don’t trust the street rat you hear he is so infatuated with. “i heard about penguins auction” selina looked at you up and down. “so barbara sent you for the knife. figured i’d just hand it over” listening to these two bickering was hilarious. “something like that.” she smiled. “why’s it so important to her?”

“how should i know? she was supposed to get it for some client. a pretty dangerous guy.” selina huffed “and that if you were smart you’d hand it over and save yourself the trouble.” selinas eyes were calm. meant that she didn’t see bruce as a treat. that’s how she was able to talk to him so causally. “I spent two million dollars on it i think I’ll keep it” he began to raise his voice. you kept your words to yourself.

“why are you acting like this.” selina crossed her arms sounding a bit hurt. “me? what about you. are you barbara keans errand girl now.?” he stood up from behind his desk. “I’m her partner but she won’t see me as equals unless you do me this solid.” selina pleaded with him. “widow. you may be dismissed. there is no threat” you bowed and left the study leaving bruce and selina alone.

•

about an hour later alfred helped you settle into your bedroom. it was big and had plenty of room. alfred brought you some clean sheets and fluffy blue towels . you thanked the elderly man and bowed. “goodnight young miss.” he smiled and left you alone. you made your bed and unpacked some of your jumpsuits into one of the many closets. you grabbed a blue towel and went to shower.

you wanted to wash the guilt away. you grabbed your pill bottle and took two. dreykov would scold you if you didn’t take them. you packed a black pair of shorts and a tank top. a widows favorite pajama set. another thing you sneakily pack was a pair of pink pointe shoes. you didn’t enjoy much of anything but you did like ballet, tho you’d never say it out loud.

after you got out of the shower you brushed your hair into a tight bun. two knocks were heard. “widow.” it of course was bruce wayne. you closed your eyes and sighed walking to the door. “hello sir, do you need anything” you smiled. “no. i just want to let you know that im four doors down. and alfred’s room is downstairs. if you need anything.” he smiled.

“thank you sir” you bowed your head. “bruce is fine. tomorrow me and alfred have some errands to run but you are free to use the kitchen,gym and living room. alfred will set up a tv for you tomorrow” his voice was soft as silk, as sweet as red whine. “goodnight” he touches your arm and pats it. “night.” you said in response. he left leaving you feeling very much confused. how would you last two months?