"Trust Me? You Stole Me!"

"Trust me? You stole me!"

Stressed out and had this little story in my head so I figured, why not make a post. Maybe I'll continue it, who knows.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne X Black!fem!OC (Its actually X Reader but it's hard for me to write without an actual name for a character. So, reader if you squint)

Rating: E for everyone. No cursing (that I remember), No sexual content. Ambiguous backstory.

Series Masterlist

“It’s always gloomy here.” She spoke absentmindedly, her attention captivated by the rainfall hitting the window pane. Her tone was tinged with the boredom she was feeling. Bruce glanced over to the passenger seat. Her big hair hid her face but he knew her well enough to know those maroon lips would be shaped into a pout. She hated the rain and had no issue making the fact known. “When can we go on another vacation? I’d settle for Metropolis at this point.”

“We just got back. You should be grateful that I took you with me instead of leaving you here.”

“What do you want me to say? Thank you, Big Daddy, for dragging me along to the superhero playdate that almost ended my life?” Her exaggerated southern drawl had him clenching the wheel.

“You’re mad.”

“Fucking right I am.” She snapped, her head swiveled so fast he heard the joints pop. He sighed. He didn’t want to fight with her. She had every right to be upset. After weeks of boasting about the vacation to Dubai he scheduled, they arrive and see half the justice league there fighting sewer monsters. The dark knight had to lock her up in saferoom for ten days while he and his teammates fought to save the world. “I’m tired of being Batman’s pet. You won’t let me go out by myself. I have to stay at home all day. You don’t even let me have a real phone.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“Trust me? You stole me! I have every right to fight you every chance I get.”

“You’re acting like a child.” Her eyes squinted with rage. “You should be happy I go along with your whims. It’s not like I push you to do anything.” That wasn’t true and he knew it. Still, she kept her mouth shut. It was clear by the way he clutched the steering wheel that he was getting tired of her mouth. She leaned back in the cushioned seat and thought.

Bruce had parked the car in his garage by the time she looked at him again. He rose a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. She never waited for him to open her car door, acting out to salvage what little freedom she did have. Maybe he will get her a real phone if only to get back on her good side.

The pair walk quietly out the garage to the warmth of the manor. Alfred had already set up a spot in the great room near the fire for her to warm up with her favorite blanket and drink. He grimaced. On any other day, this would cheer her up but after the argument and silent treatment she decided to enact, fuzzy blankets and hot cocoa would do little to ease her ire.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred greeted with a slight bow before turning to the young lady greeting her the same. “I didn’t expect you two to get home so fast. Dinner will only take a few minutes before it is ready. Perhaps it would be best to change into something more comfortable?”

Before he could respond, her voice rang out. “Thank you, Alfred. Dinner smells lovely. Unfortunately, I am not feeling all that well so I will be turning in early.”

Both men watched her leave without a sound, turning to stare at each other when a door in the distance had been closed and locked. Alfred only blinked and moved on. “Shall I prepare the couch for you then, Master Bruce?”

“No. She’s not that upset that she’ll force me to give up my bed. Even she has a heart.” He said while walking to the table. Alfred hummed and turned off the fire under the pot, giving the food one final stir.

“Mistress Dove was upset enough to forgo my chicken noodle soup, I am not sure she what she is capable of.” Bruce only had to give his butler a look before Alfred turned and began serving a bowl of soup. He ate in silence, the only sound being the roar of fire in the fireplace and the hard hits of rain on the manor. Every now and then, Bruce’s ear would pick up the sound of her moving in the room down the hall. He wondered what she could be doing at this hour.

“If you are done Master Wayne, I’ll take that bowl you’re scratching up with your spoon.” Alfred interrupted his boss’s thought. Bruce stood without a word and looked in the direction of the only other person in the house.

“Goodnight Alferd.”

“Goodnight sir. And good luck.” The greyed man called out to the retreating figure of his employer. Whatever happens tonight, he knows he’ll need plenty of rest to navigate through tomorrow.

Bruce found himself hesitating, his large hand clasping the door handle but refusing to turn it. Memories of past dealing with her fire played in his mind. There was the time she moved all the furniture in front of the door, and later both the door and the windows after the first attempt failed. Another time, she barricaded herself in the bathroom for three days, living off of junk food and leftovers Alfred left outside her fort.

The most recent incident had Bruce living in the manor with a ghost of a woman. Dove refused to be in the same room as his, she left when he came and stuck to the shadows of the house. It would have been impressive if he attempted to catch her, but Bruce would simply let her go and hide his annoyance. Now he stood in front of the door of his suite, hand on the handle, cautious of what he’ll find.

Turning the handle, Bruce took in a deep breath and scanned the room. The window was open, the night breeze filling the room and chilling his bones. There was no crude escape made of bedsheets this time, so his steel-blue eyes moved on.

The bathroom door was open with the lights off. His ears could pick up the sound of dripping water in the shower, she more than likely forgot to wring out her loofah. Bruce could smell the scent of cucumber melon, Dove’s preferred post-shower scent. She should be out, yet the bed was still made with not a single indent as evidence she was once there.

His steps were silent, a perk from training Dove did not appreciate, as he slowly gaited to the middle of his room. The aloof billionaire closed his eyes and sighed out his nose. After their trip, he didn’t want to play any games. Tomorrow he would have to be up bright and early to attend a shareholders meeting. In order to get the best sleep possible and have a pleasant enough attitude for the meeting, Bruce would need to end this childish argument.

“Dove, let’s talk.” He expected no response and got exactly that. She could be under the bed for all he knows. Her life before he saved her had been active, to say the least. Bruce wouldn’t put it past her to hide in a bathroom cabinet all night.

“Dove, come out, and let’s talk like adults.” While he pleaded, Bruce undressed and entered the ensuite bathroom. If he was lucky, his physique would distract her long enough for him to grab her and force a conversation out.

He left the bathroom unlucky. No matter how many times Bruce called out for the mistress of the manor, she refused to appear. At one point he thought he heard her footsteps on the self-heating tiled floors, but after turning off the shower, Bruce realized it was just the noise of water dripping yet again.

It was when the sour man entered the closet that his luck turned around. Hidden behind tens of dozens of male suit jackets and coats, sat Dove. Her headphones, Wayne tech that wasn’t even on the shelves yet, plugged her ears and blocked all noise. Her body was cocooned in her favorite blanket, a ratty sheet he has unsuccessfully thrown away several times now. The reflection in her deep drown eyes showed the screen of her phone, heavily modified and monitored by a bot he created, playing a video ranking his costumed colleagues in a list of some sort. Bruce raised a hand to knock on the mahogany wood to alert the caged bird of his presence, but her eyes were quick to snap up and stare him down.

Dove did not frown not scowl, her plump lips remained relaxed in a neutral position. The amusement from the video leaked from her body as she sprung back up slightly, it was clear she was ready for a fight. He had no energy for that.

“Can I help you?”

“Come to bed.” She merely raised a brow.

“I don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow morning. I think I might stay up tonight. This is a pretty important video I found.” Always quick to choose her words. She had his interest piqued and they both knew it. Before he could ask, she gave the answer. “It’s a rank of best to worst costumes in the Justice League.”

“Where am I on the list?”

“Number 7. The all-black aesthetic is kinda out of fashion right now but it’s still timeless. Super and Wonder are on the worst list though, Red and blue are outdated.” A half-smile graced her face and Bruce wanted to caress her lips. Instead, he tugged on her hair scarf. He doesn’t do playful. He agitates people into reacting, digging into the vulnerable crevices people leave unguarded. When she swatted his hand away, the dark knight knew he’s won. “Stop.”

“Come to bed.” Bruce didn’t wait to see if she’d follow him back to the bed. He didn’t care if she would. The fact that Dove wasn’t angry enough to ignore him counted as a win for him.

Dove emerged from the darkness of the bathroom, sans ratty blanket, with a neutral face. The anger she felt in the car had not been forgone, simply paused for the time being. Her brown skin glowed in the yellow lamplight, the skimpy silk nightgown only covered to the middle of her thighs. Bruce noted his bedmate wasn’t angry enough to wear her old ratty pajamas, another win in his book.

They settled into the bed in silence. He got in first, then turned the sheets down for her to slip into her side. When her head settled on the plush pillow, Bruce leaned over to turn off the lamp on his nightstand.

“Goodnight.”

“Mhm.” A disgruntled sigh escaped. A few minutes passed before one hand snuck over to clasp a feminine one. When Dove continued in her silence, Bruce took the chance to yank her body to mold against his.

“You’re an asshole, ya know?” Bruce only tightened his grasp around her waist in response. Brown eyes looked over to see his closed shut in mock sleep. Even placing her ice-cold feet against his warm flesh did nothing to warrant a response. "Ya know, If I could, I would leave you.”

“Yes.” He grumbled, burying his nose where her neck and shoulder met. He knew that the moment his back was turned and the gates were unlocked, Dove would run without a backward glance. He knew she would dive as deep as possible into the underground to escape him and his omnipresent watch system. He knew, but Bruce did not care. “I know. Now, sleep.”

"Might As Well, Right?"

Well Darlin, look at us now. A continuation of "Trust Me? You Stole Me?" I'm having so much fun writing this, slowly piecing the past together. Enough of me.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Black!fem!OC/reader

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Hints of Abuse/Manipulation. (closest I can get to expressing what's going on. I'm not trying to be pretentious, I literally can't bc I don't know where this story is going either. Something isn't right, is what I'm saying)

Series Masterlist

In the time she’s been there, Dove has never seen a guest visit the manor in the daytime. Sometimes when he had a gala to host or bigwig to impress, Bruce would open the gates to outsiders. Only at night, though. And never for any time longer than three hours. Those were the nights she hated the most. Bruce would bring up the evening in question two days before it was scheduled to take place, usually while they ate breakfast, and ask her what she wanted to do.

He was kind enough to offer two options. One, be his date and hang off his arm all night with the chance to socialize with people other than him and Alfred. Or two, hide in a windowless room with tv or a stack of books to keep her company while he entertained his guests on his lonesome. Dove found both options to be unpleasant.

The prospect of socializing with outsiders always felt tainted with the knowledge of who she would socializing with. Other rich people that, like Bruce, were out of touch with reality. Those were the type of people that could look her in the eye and not feel a sliver of concern.

She knew if she asked, her jailer would dress her in the finest jewels and silks. He would think Dove had begun to lean into the life he wanted to have with her. She made that mistake before. And there were few experiences more infantizing than being put in a room while Bruce hosts, with Alfred checking in on her every hour on the hour.

The new man placed across from her, on Bruce’s left side, presented a third option.

“A carnival?” This new man, closer to her age than Bruce’s, didn’t falter or pause cutting his food up while looking her in the eyes. She held eye contact and when he showed no sign of breaking it first, Dove cut her eyes to Bruce. Acrylic nails ‘clicked’ against the glass cup as the woman picked it up to take a drink. “I’m surprised you trust me enough to let me out of your sight.”

“Dick’s almost as good as me. But if you disagree, you’re more than welcome to attend the party as my date.” Dick smirked at her, daring her to take the invite to the party instead of the golden opportunity to escape her reality for a night with him. Pushing a fallen braid out of her face, Dove looked at the pair. Alfred was in the kitchen a couple of feet away, cleaning up after cooking their breakfast. These men at the table with her continued their meal, unconcerned with the fact that she stopped eating. “Or stay in the room and watch tv. You’re a couple of episodes behind that competition show you showed me, right?”

“The carnival,” Dove started, her fork moving again as she began picking at her food. She wanted to ask who this man was but refrained. What would it matter in the long run, she wondered. Clearly, this ‘Dick’ knew who Bruce was and what he did, both at night in the streets and to her.

“If it makes you feel better, my date will be there and would love a normal friendship with a girl around her age. Also, you probably won’t get another chance like this for a while. Might as well right?” Her nails thrummed against the table as Dove thought. Was she that desperate for outside contact that she’d settle for a trip to the carnival with two strangers that knew her situation and didn’t care?

“Sure." Brown eyes caught the action of Bruce readjusting the grip he had on his utensil. Still, she pressed on. "When’s the next time I’ll get to eat questionable junk food like a deep-fried triple-battered butter smothered double stuffed oreo?” It was then Alfred appeared at her side, his sixth sense about her empty plate right as always. He placed a gloved hand over her tapping fingers and looked deep into her eyes.

“Please. Don’t.”

-------

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Bruce said while watching jittery hands apply makeup to an awfully eager face. As much as he wanted to ask her to tone down her makeup, the light in her eyes made him refrain. It’s been a while since his caged bird has looked this excited. Not even the trip to Dubai, before it got ruined, caused such a reaction. It broke his heart to stay home and host the gala while she would be outside the manor tasting the small bit of freedom granted to her.

“No, Dick said tonight would be the last day the Hex Girls would be in town. I’ve been a fan for years! This’ll be my first time seeing them live.” Dove murmured, careful to stay absolutely still as she applied her eyeliner.

While she was genuinely excited to see her favorite band and be outside with normal people for the first time in months, Dove felt a second rush of excitement at the thought of being away from Bruce. She warred with herself after that breakfast, worried about her mental state if she leaned into this outing. As much as she wanted to hold back, her mind has already tricked itself into believing the couple she was going out with were friends instead of babysitters.

Steel eyes watched facial features be redrawn and colored to perfection, slowly he watched the woman he was infatuated with, return to her former glory. She smacked her lips three times to ensure the gloss had been evenly distributed before turning to look at him.

“How do I look?”

“Breathtaking.” Dove could feel her cheeks warm. Bruce doesn’t lie. He tricks and misleads until his opponent was too confused to move, but he wouldn’t lie. A compliment from her captor shouldn’t make her heartbeat any faster, and yet the muscle hammered away due to his honeyed words. “Maybe I’ll take you out next.”

“Maybe…”

“Would you like that?” She didn’t answer his question, but the billionaire paid no mind to that. He’d give anything to have her on his arm all night instead of out with his former sidekick. Canceling the outing would only strengthen the discontent in her heart. That would be spitting on the progress they’d made recently. Dove no longer scowled at him when he hugged her before he left the manor. Bruce had no desire to go back to how things were. “Dick should be arriving soon. We can wait downstairs.”

“What about your party? It starts in an hour, you should be getting ready.” The trail of perfume she left in her wake scrambled his mind with ease as she slid past him to grab her jacket on the bed.

“I don’t take that long to get ready. This is fine.” Together they strolled down the hall until the stairs started. The plaid skirt flounced with every step-down Dove took, something Bruce found hard to ignore. It wasn’t obscenely short, so saying something about it would only sour her evening before it began.

“Mistress Dove, that is a lovely outfit you have on.” Bruce could tell by the way Alred sucked in air that the woman in front of him had graced the butler with a rare smile.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“Though, I’m not sure if that jacket will keep you warm in the autumn weather. Might I suggest taking Master Bruce’s casual jacket?” Gloved hands waved the article of clothing as an option just as Dove and her shadow reached the last step. “The oversized look is currently in trend right now.”

Dove merely hummed. Bruce crossed his muscled arms over his chest and watched her, not reacting when the security system alerted the presence of Dick on his doorstep. The large door groaned as it swung open, followed by the sound of two pairs of footsteps headed to the main den.

“What are you all standing around for? You ready to go?” Dick asked with hand clasped in his companion’s grip.

Bruce has only met Koriand’r a few times before now. Each time, the alien princess looked more and more assimilated into earth culture. Tonight, it appeared she successfully convinced Dick into wearing matching outfits.

“Hello, I am Kori,” The girls were quick to acquaint themselves with one another, giving the men time to talk before the three young adults left.

“Have her back by one. Not a minute late.” Dick scoffed and looked at the girls.

“Scared she won’t want to come back to you, old man?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Carnival closes at midnight anyway. Might get some food afterward, I’ll have her keep you updated.”

“Right,” Bruce pulled a phone out of his pocket and tossed it to his former sidekick. “Here. Add your number to it.” Dick complied without a word, though he couldn’t help but give his mentor a judgemental glance.

“Dove,” The women paused as the gruff man called to one of them. Dick watched with amazement as Dove walked over to them. It appears she had been taught the name recall command.

“Yes?” her voice came out timidly as if she was a child at risk of being forced to stay home.

"I updated your phone, My number, Alfred's, and the house's are all..." Bruce led them a few steps back and Dick lost his ability to keep up with the conversation. He walked over to his date and clasped her hand, and the two waited for Bruce to set his bird free for the night.

“Don’t let him work you too hard, Alfred.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Master Dick. I’m happy to let you know I’ve been taking pilates to strengthen my core.” Kori laughed at the perceived joke, but Dick didn’t put it past the old man to actually begin pilates.

“I’m ready,” Dove announced. She had ditched her jacket for Bruce’s, the sheer size of it covered her thighs more than the skirt did. Her brown eyes looked troubled, and her shoulders were tensed to high heavens. Whatever Bruce did had the woman on the verge of issuing a rain-check

Alfred stepped away for a second at returned with a miniature backpack. Dove nodded her thanks and slipped her phone into the front pocket of the jacket while taking the offered accessory.

“1 o’clock, Dick.” The only response to the reminder was a half-assed wave while the girls clutched the other’s hand. Bruce resisted the urge to call the whole night off, his event included, to fix his error. Instead, the two men watched the trio of twenty-somethings pile into Dick’s car and speed out the driveway of Wayne Manor.

“Sir-”

“I’m going to get ready, Alfred. I’ll be down before the guests arrive.” Back up the stairs, Gotham’s golden prince went. His steps pressed harder on the steps than Alfred thought was necessary.

“Of Course Sir.”

I got the story saved as 'Free Birdie' in my documents, but idk if thats what i wanna call the series? Something with birds, since her name is Dove and he's Batman. Something poetic, like them niggas on ao3 do. Lets sleep on it.

I feel this in my soul

Me: *trying to get work done*

My last 3 braincells:

If i ever get married im exchanging personal vows on the honeymoon and using the standard in the ceremony. Im sorry but if i get up and start expressing my feelings my family will clown me and i cant go down like that.