Nooo Bruce

Nooo Bruce 😭😭😭

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐕)

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"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2469

“We need to talk,” Bruce began as he pulled her away from Harvey.

“Aren’t we doing that already?” y/n quipped, upset by his sudden appearance. Harvey was about to say something important by the way his face hardened, but she’d have to wait to find out what. 

Bruce audibly groaned as his voice adopted a serious tone, “We need so place private to talk. Now.”

Her eyebrows remained knit, annoyed by Bruce’s insistence, yet regardless she turned toward Harvey to tell him she’d be leaving. It was careless of her to be alone with Bruce, especially after Harvey had disclosed his concerning nature, but regardless it couldn’t be worse than the alternative fate she was running from. 

When her head spun back to her best friend, she noticed Harvey lost in deep thought. His emerald eyes were fixated on something in the distance, staring right through the short blonde wavy bangs that fell over his forehead. She wanted to move a hand to caress his face and preserve the serene moment in which they were both momentarily at peace. She was melting in his presence and she wished to relish it for as long as she could, until Bruce cleared his throat and broke the trance she was lost in. 

“Harvey,” she called out softly, hoping to not startle him. After blinking a few times, he turned to meet his eyes with y/n’s. Acknowledging her with a hum, she continued, “I need to go. I don’t think I’ll be back soon, so don’t wait up for me. Ok?”

He sighed knowing that there was no convincing the woman after she had made up her mind about something. He thought of saying no. He didn’t want her to go, especially not with him. But, she wasn’t going to let go of Bruce anytime soon, despite his warning, and her decision to leave signaled something he wasn’t ready to admit just yet. She was drifting from him and though he was selfish enough to want her all to himself, he loved her too much to deny her anything. 

“Ok.” He answered, before turning back to the work he had set aside earlier. 

Before moving to leave she squeezed his shoulder attempting to elicit a response, but to her dismay, Harvey’s head remained unmoving from the papers in front of him. 

Bruce lead the way out of the library with y/n shadowing right behind with her head down in defeat. They strolled down the halls and past the buildings till they reached the school entrance where a limo was parked. She followed Bruce’s lead as they entered the vehicle and situated themselves.

“Where are we going?” She had no advantage over him, no leverage against Bruce to sway things in her favor. Bruce’s want for help was unexpected, but undeniably an advantageous opportunity for her to finally be free. Amidst the conversation with Harvey she had decided, she would take up on his offer, as long as she knew she was safe. 

“You got in a stranger’s car blindly?” Bruce quipped, obviously trying to tease her.

“Oh, so now we’re strangers? And for your information, I didn’t get in blindly. If we’re going to be partners we have to have a certain level of trust between us, no?” Bruce smirked, happy that she had taken up on his earlier proposition. 

“So, tell me. Why were you there that night?” 

y/n didn’t want to give him all her cards, after all, he had notoriously been deflecting all her questions. Instead, she changed the topic, hoping to run him in circles until he spilled what he knew first. “Are you sure this limo is a safe space to be talking about this? For all we know there could be recording devices hidden everywhere.”

“Trust me, there aren’t. Now, what aren’t you telling me?”

She couldn’t keep it in. If they wanted to get anywhere with this conversation, she had to tell him the truth, or at least part of it. “I ran errands for someone powerful. They usually–” She hesitated, scared that Bruce would turn on her. Instead, his face scrunched into a serious expression as he waited for her to continue, unwavering in his resolve. “I got bribes for them. I would go to a drop-off location, pick up cash, and bring it back to them. I thought this time it would be the same, but the address was something new.”

The boy seated across from y/n was engrossed in the details as he focused on the view outside the window. y/n rolled her eyes, growing irritated by his persistent ignorance of her. Ever since they met, he had barely spoken a word to her and purposely tried to hurt any way he saw fit. What was she even doing here, had she gone insane? Regret began to fester in the pit of her stomach as the past began to creep back into her mind. Four years of what felt like torture endured at the hands of a boy who wanted her help. Nothing made sense anymore. 

The ride continued in silence until they arrived at the manor and headed into an elaborately decorated study. Hundreds of books covered the rich mahogany shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Some books were binded with real leather while others had delicate covers as if they were the original copies. There were no empty spaces or gaps between the levels as each shelf above perfectly matched the height of the books below. The intricacy of the carvings within the wood was so detailed that each crevice formed a masterpiece. Among racks of wood, was an antique bronze staircase still shiny and firm to the touch. It too had intricate designs enchanting it. It was a sight to behold, especially as the evening light filtered through the skylight.

At the center of the room stood a desk with a similar antiquity to it with carved wooden legs and a polished top. In front of it, a whiteboard was placed in which a series of photos, receipts, documents, and magnets were organized, all connected by red string. At the sight, y/n turned to Bruce with an eyebrow raised, barely able to hold the urge to tease him about playing detective. 

“I’ve been investigating Carmine Falcone for a while now. That night we both got an address. You might’ve thought that the address you received was of his home, but you’re wrong.” Bruce began his eagerness to share his revelations apparent in his voice. 

“What do you mean? What else could it be?” y/n turned her body towards him, paying full attention.

“I’m not sure. But I know for a fact that the address I got was of his real home. So that must mean you’re being taken elsewhere.” 

“How would you even know that? If everyone knows Falcone lives in one place, don’t you think it’d be too dangerous for him to do anything illegal there? It would be out in the open.”

“Precisely, he’s hiding in plain sight.” 

y/n thought for a moment. It made sense for him to keep his secret operation somewhere no one would expect. Even more chilling was the admitting that Falcone or Wilcox was trying to tie her up with something really bad. Of course, she would get the ominous address, there would be no one to question her disappearance and no support for her to fall back on if they did in fact trap her. She was the perfect scapegoat. 

Bruce continued, brushing off the worry that plagued y/n’s features. “A couple of months ago, I noticed an increased amount of movement of GCPD vehicles, but there was rarely any radio chatter on the police lines. Obviously, the disparity was suspicious so I–”

y/n stalked closer to Bruce as she interrupted, “How do you even that? Why do you know that? Bruce, it's not normal to be stalking the police even if you are immune to them. I need to know your intentions before I do something I know I’ll regret.” She glared at the boy as he mirrored her movements, attempting to intimidate her. He looked down at her, caging her between his arms as he moved unwaveringly. She didn’t realize her position until her back hit the desk and she was stuck. He put his hands at her sides, resting them on the desktop as he leaned his face closer to her. He was close enough for y/n to feel his warm breath on her skin, reminding her of when he had caught her in that tunnel. But his narrowed eyes scared her for within them, she could see a glimpse of the monster Harvey had described. 

“That’s for me to know.” His voice sounded more husky and articulate than before.

He moved a bit further away, still trapping y/n between him and the desk, as he resumed, “As I was saying, the extra vehicles always appeared after a drug bust. I investigated a little more and found out that half the drugs found at the crime scenes were never reported anywhere. It got me thinking: GCPD is known for being dirty. Almost every cop is on someone’s payroll and Falcone is probably using them to run an operation of his own.”

y/n still wasn’t buying it. Though she knew she shouldn’t poke the beast, she couldn’t help but give in to her instinct. “I still don’t understand why that’s suspicious. If the cops have been dirty for years, what’s so special about them helping Falcone now?”

“Like I said, that’s for me to know.” Bruce remained resolute in his response, but it was the very thing that gave him away. y/n could tell he didn’t want to divulge his stake in the scheme, but it was something personal enough for him to investigate it to this degree. 

Regardless, she decided she should stop pushing her luck. Bruce was right, she didn’t need to know his motivation to get out of this alive. Concentrating on the case once more, she pondered on the evidence he had presented. Gotham was infamous for its drug distribution, and heading those operations was usually Falcone. “So Falcone’s taking the drugs from his competitors in these busts, asking the cops to take half the supply to give to him, and outselling?”

The two continued their discussion of the case, analyzing all the items pinned on the whiteboard. Eventually, they both moved to seat themselves on the floor, allowing the tension to dissipate with every laugh Bruce was able to get out of y/n. Though he didn’t reveal much about himself, and neither did she to him, they both enjoyed tracing the trail formed by the idiocy and carelessness of the crooked cops. 

Before she knew it, the skylight had darkened, preset lights had turned on, and an empty pizza box lay open beside her. She could feel Bruce’s gaze on her, softer than before. A genuine smile painted her face as she looked at him ignoring the butterflies that tumbled in her stomach. There was no denying how handsome Bruce Wayne was. The sharp jaw, slicked-back black hair with a single strand falling in front of his face and sculpted features made him look like the heartthrob of the century. Something about his conviction reminded her of Harvey, how they were both so purposeful. 

He moved his fingers closer to hers, laying them atop hers as used his other hand to pull out a box from his pocket. Presenting the item, he revealed, “I’m sorry about your other phone, but you have to admit, that thing was ancient.”

Smiling, she playfully tapped his arm, feigning offense as she noticed the photo of a phone on the box. He placed it between them and gestured for her to open it. Awed by just how advanced and pricey the phone seemed just from its encasing she protested, “Bruce, I know I said that you owe me a phone but I can’t take this.”

“You’ll have to, how else will anyone be able to hear your angelic voice when you’re not there.” Bruce furiously blushed as the words left his lips, but the ambient light was just warm-toned enough to hide it. y/n, on the other hand, was confused and flustered by the unexpected compliment. She stumbled over her words before sealing her lips shut and surrendering to him.

Opening the box, she was met with the newest, best model of the iPhone on the market. Her jaw was practically on the floor as she gawked at her newest prized possession. She had never had the finances to afford something this beautiful or functional. The sleek surface of the unscratched screen and the undented backing of the phone was truly awing. 

Left speechless, she was barely able to let out her gratuity with an appreciative “Thank you.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Usually, Monday classes were the dullest point of the week. But this time, y/n’s mind was rarely in class. As the teachers began to say their farewells and congratulations to the students for having finally completed high school, y/n lost herself within a mind captured by Bruce Wayne. It wasn’t out of character for her to be alone, so as she daydreamed free from the suspicions of others, y/n began entertaining the possibilities for why Bruce was being nice to her. 

It wasn’t until the end of the day when Harvey had come to accompany her for the practice graduation ceremony that she forced herself out of the trance. It was dangerous to fall for someone so fickle with his partners, much less someone who held her life in his hands. If she upset him, annoyed him, or even irritated him too much, there was not telling what he would do. 

As she filtered into the football field, holding onto Harvey’s shirt so as to not get separated in the crowd, she saw Bruce. Situated by the podium, he had a girl wrapped in his arms. She was laughing at something he said, leaning into him close enough for their noses to touch. For a moment her line of sight was blocked but as the crowd began to die, she saw him kissing her passionately. 

It was no surprise he would have arm candy with him, he always did. But why did it hurt? Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach and her eyes became teary leaving her stupefied. Why did it confuse her so much? 

Despite the discrepancy between her mind and her heart, one thing was clear. Harvey was right: Bruce had a knack for causing pain and how foolish was she to think that she was the only flower in his garden.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈𝐈)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 3249

She’d heard something before she fell asleep, but she couldn’t decipher the words. y/n knew it was something important, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what. Contemplation tired her mind enough to grant her sleep for a few minutes before the tension in the air awoke her. Peeking from her closed eyelids so as to not alert the boys near her, y/n saw how Harvey occasionally threw a pointed glare at a stoic Bruce. The two had initially remained quiet, but it seemed they were itching for a fight. 

After a small glance at the uneasy scene, she attempted to rest again, but just as she had begun to return to her slumber, a voice began, “What’s your problem?”

Though she kept her lids shut now, y/n could tell that the sound originated from the back where Bruce sat. She had to stop from rolling her eyes, as she realized he was quoting her exact words from earlier. Typical rich kids, always taking. 

Harvey, pounced at the chance to squabble as he replied, “You.”

“I need you to elaborate there, buddy. Lots of people have a problem with me for lots of reasons.”

“Buddy?” Harvey let out a bittersweet chuckle, his voice laced with a hint of disgust at the nickname. “Do you even remember who I am?”

“Harvey Dent, son of Harvey Dent Senior. You’re dad’s a politician and you wanna follow in his footsteps. Now, your turn.” Bruce spoke robotically, attempting to reciprocate Harvey’s attitude.

“You really don’t remember, huh? Should’ve guessed.”

Bruce, annoyed by Harvey’s ambiguous answers, remained mum the rest of the ride, occasionally letting out a deep sigh like an angry toddler. y/n was glad that Bruce had a taste of his own medicine, but her curiosity was also awakened by the cryptic responses Harvey had stated. She thought that this was Harvey’s way of finally opening up, giving her the green light to explore his truths after years of distance. 

When the car stopped at the gates of the Wayne manor, Bruce immediately rose to attention and swiftly exited the vehicle, as if staying any longer would have killed him. He ran through the slow-opening gates, disappearing in the fog-ridden entrance before y/n heard the engine rev to a start. 

Slowly she opened her eyes, basking in the peace she found with Harvey’s presence before revealing, “I heard everything.”

Harvey stayed silent, his eyes remaining secured to the dimly lit road ahead of him. y/n moved to place a hand on his thigh, gently so as to not startle him. She let her fingers lay there, in a comforting manner before assuring, “I know you’ve got some pent-up frustration right now, and I just want you to know, I’m here if you want to talk.” She could feel him relax under her touch, the words soothing the wounds that had re-opened previously. “I’m always here.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gotham was never quiet. The sirens always rang, especially in the dead of night. The people always shout whether it be to scream for help or bark a demand. The rain always pattered against windows, leaving the outside world to be a blurry distortion of reality. y/n found the noise to be comforting most nights because it made her feel less lonely, and it ensured that the trouble would stay where it was meant to be: outside. But now her heart beat louder than the ambiance of Gotham, louder than any concert. It beat her chest so hard that her ears ached at the sound. She tossed and turned, holding a pillow to her ears in an attempt to shut everything out, but silence was impossible to attain. 

She was angry because reality had hit her like a speeding bullet for the first time in a long time. She’d done so much, sacrificed her time, her health, and her whole being to be accepted into Gotham Academy. It was the first step in her naive grand plan to be happy. But fate is anything but kind, for however much she works, she’s destined to fall. Falcone would be the sun that burns her wax wings, or maybe it was Wilcox, the man who had set her down this perverted path. But no matter who she sought to accuse for an inevitable early death, like Icarus she had only herself to blame for wanting to reach higher than she was meant to. Her anger culminated in prickling tears rolling down her cheek uncontrollably. Her eyes red & puffy, cheeks drenched with salty water, and throat hoarse from catching her breath, y/n fell asleep, knocked unconscious by the sheer exhaustion of her overwhelmed state. 

The next morning, y/n awoke with a freshness. The tears had washed away her despondency, leaving room for a lingering courage to resurface. When dawn had struck, faint slivers of light breaking through the cloudy skies, she was already up and about. Pacing back and forth in her dorm, y/n concocted a plan of action to resolve her predicament. She would talk to Wilcox, say that their relationship had gone much farther than she was willing to go and that he needed to move forward without her. She could report him to GCPD. It wasn’t like every cop there was on someone’s payroll, there had to be someone there to help her. 

But if she reported him, he had to have known she’d go down as his accomplice. He’s got a pricey lawyer to get him out unscathed, but her? She’s got nobody to fight for her. Yet, maybe Wilcox continued pressuring her because he knew she wouldn’t stand up. It couldn’t hurt to push back, after all, nothing could have been worse than dying because of Carmine Falcone. 

After an hour of going back and forth with the myriad of ways the conversation could go, y/n never expected for Wilcox to be this vile. She made her way down to his office as soon as her mind had calmed and walked through the open doors as soon as she arrived. He was expecting her, for before her heel even landed inside the room, the man exclaimed, “y/n! How have you been?”

When y/n entered the room completely, she apprehensively muttered, “Fine.” She kept her head down, fear beginning to creep up her spine at his uncanny attitude. Never had he been this nice to her.

“Well, got what I need?”

y/n moved forward quickly, placing the wad of cash she had found the day before in front of him. His resting face morphed into a sinister smile as he brushed a hand through the notes. Looking up as he played with the bundle of money, he raised an eyebrow.

y/n’s mouth was slightly agape at the sight. She mustered the courage she had earlier in the morning, resolute in seeing through with her plan as she began, “I won’t do this anymore. I don’t know what you’ve got yourself involved with and frankly, I don’t care. I won’t ruin myself by continuing to be involved.”

“Ah…you think you’ve got a choice in the matter?” He rose from his seat, his chair screeching against the polished wooden floor as it jerked backward. Hands now placed flat against the mahogany of his desk, he bore his eyes into y/n. “You’re in more of a desperate situation than you think. I’m assuming you got the address, yes? Well, Carmine wants blood and it won’t be mine. Seeing as you’re a scholarship kid, it wouldn’t be hard to justify anything that might happen to you–”

“–I’ve got friends. What makes you think that I can’t just tell Carmine it was you?”

“Bold, I’ll give you that,” Wilcox moved around his desk and strode toward the girl dropping the smile. Face to face, he leaned down to her ear whispering, “I’ve got friends too. Friends who can take away that Harvard scholarship. Friends who can make sure you can’t escape Gotham. Friends who can make your life beyond the Academy a living hell. You’ve got no idea what you’re up against little girl.”

He stepped away, re-plastering the smile on his face, and opened the door motioning for y/n to step out. As she turned to leave y/n took a shaky breath and stopped at the exit before saying, “I won’t back down without a fight.”

She rushed out of the room, walking down the administrative building hallway with no awareness of her surroundings. She never expected the interaction to have been easy, but for it to end in this war was too much for her to handle. Who was she kidding, she didn’t have anything to fight the dean with. No dirt, no power, no advantage, nothing but a death sentence. 

As she rounded a corner, she collided with a hard surface. She stumbled backward, holding her head in her hands as a migraine developed. With a hand placed on her throbbing head, she attempted to center herself and realized she had bumped into Bruce.

“You ok?” Bruce seemed genuinely concerned as he inquired. His hand stretched toward her, brushing over her head before y/n took another step back.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Her voice was weaker than it had been before. Bruce noticed how she had sunk into herself, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks flushed. Her breaths were fairly shaky as she retreated from him. There was no point beating around the bush. Whatever he wanted to say, he needed to say it now.

“I have a proposition.” He paused for a moment, waiting for confirmation to continue. When y/n stared at him, waiting for more, he continued, “I think we’ve both bitten off more than we can chew. Some bad things are about to happen and I want to stop it. But, I can’t do it alone. I–uh” He hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly declaring, “I need your help.”

“Care to elaborate? Mr. I’m Above Everything and Everyone wants to play hero? What’s really in it for you and why do you want my help?” She waited for Bruce to respond, yet he remained silent. “Ok. I’m not risking my life for you. I’m not stupid. If you want a scapegoat, ask one of your many admirers.” 

She was about to stomp off, beyond pissed that people only viewed her as a tool. Bruce, mindful of the apparent anger brewing within y/n, grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to face him. “I can save you from Falcone if you do this for me. Better yet, I can make sure you’re untouched by everyone in this city.”

Had he heard her conversation with Wilcox? Questions swirled in her already preoccupied mind, but y/n brushed them off. It didn’t matter how much he knew, what mattered was the tempting offer he just proposed. This was her way out, a solution for all her hardship. To have no anchors holding her down opened a world of possibility, but an offer like that was too true for her to believe. He wouldn’t hand over such power without a price equally as revolting. She needed to know she could trust him to follow through before she signed her life away to the devil.

“How do I know you won’t leave me high and dry? I do your dirty work and take the fall while you reap the glory.”

“You don’t.” Great, just the answer she needed. He really played the role of an asshole quite passionately. 

Rolling her eyes, she shook his hands off her wrist and marched toward the library for some peace. She texted Harvey on the way, hoping to make up for ditching him yesterday by meeting with him. It was routine at this point, for her to randomly disappear at a moment’s notice and make up for it later. y/n knew that Harvey was suspicious of it, but being him, he never openly questioned her. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey, missed me?” y/n greeted Harvey as she approached him from behind. He chuckled as he turned to watch her approach him. He gestured to the empty seat beside him, even dragging out the chair with one arm. He beamed with excitement at how gracefully she sat down, forgetting the homework he was engaged in to simply admire her. He could smell her perfume, relishing in its sweet and savory scent. But, he could also smell a hint of antiseptic. He was about to brush it off before his eyes trailed to the hand that was not resting on the table. y/n had a bandage wrapped around her wrist. 

“Not like it's your first time bailing on me, but regardless, I did,” Harvey replied. Before y/n had an opportunity to speak again, he pointed at the bandage asking, “What happened?”

y/n was at a loss for words. She didn’t want Harvey to be involved in this ever-deepening abyss of troubles, so she had to come up with a white lie. Fast. “Uh..y’know how clumsy I can be. I–I fell on it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow, having known the girl long and well enough that she was lying. Though, seeing her sullen state he kept suppressed his urge to know the truth. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t lied to her either. She’d tell him whenever she was ready, till then, he was willing to wait. 

“So, you’re probably wondering about last night.” Harvey nodded. “Well, I went into the city. This time, I got lost, and by the time I realized I didn’t know where I was going, the sun had already gone down. Somehow Bruce found me and we ended up waiting at the bridge for a ride.” It was just vague enough to not reveal what y/n had actually been doing there, but just informative enough to not have Harvey need to question her. The perfect cover. 

“Uh-huh.” Harvey held his tongue. y/n looked visibly tired and he didn’t have the heart to push her any further, no matter how suspicious she was being. 

She moved her hands over his, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Harvey’s cheeks reddened as he observed her movements, holding back the desire to lean closer to her until they touched. Just as she had done, he wanted to embrace her. Not just her fingers, her whole being. He wanted to comfort her, be her knight in shining armor. The more he looked into her eyes, the more he saw a reflection of what could be. But her touch brought him back to reality as she squeezed his hands in a comforting motion. 

“And you? What happened between you and Bruce?” She stared at him. When she was met with silence, she began to withdraw herself establishing, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s alright.”

Before she could fully retract her hands from his, he interlaced his fingers with hers, pulling her even closer than she was before. “No, no, I want to tell you y/n. It's just…hard to talk about.”

Harvey took in a few deep breaths before starting, “Here goes. Before I came to the Academy, I didn’t live the same way I do now. I–My father was an alcoholic. My mother’s death was something he always seemed to dwell on and the anger that came from it was taken out on his health and me. He had a thing. He would flip a coin to decide whether he should…hurt me or not. One day I just couldn’t take the beatings anymore and I trapped him in his room for a few days. I know what I did was wrong, and nothing excuses that, but I don’t regret it. When the police finally freed my father, he got so mad he sent me the the Arkham Boys Rehabilitation Home upstate. 

“That’s when I met, rather, befriended Bruce. We shared a similar drive fueled by hatred. We became good friends and even made a pact of sorts. Someday we’d kill each other’s enemy–I’d kill Joe Chill, the man who murdered Bruce’s parents, and he’d kill my father. Then a while later, when I went home, my fath–dad, he turned over a new leaf. Even reminting the bastard coin that he’d used to determine my fate so that it would have only two heads. It was meant to be a symbol of how his only side, from then on, would be his good side. He stayed true to his words since then and I truly believe that he’s become a better man. Bruce though, he doesn’t believe in second chances. When I backed out of our ‘pact’ he thought I was being naive. He was truly angry, and he took out that fury by ignoring me. And even though he doesn’t seem to remember it, I still believe that the monster is still inside of him. The one fueling the bitter, cold heart he has now. It’s dangerous, and I don’t want you involved with that. Please y/n, I want you to be safe.”

y/n lifted her hands from his, dragged her chair until it touched his, and hugged him. In her embrace, he felt soothed allowing a tear to slip from his eyes.“Thank you, for trusting me. I’m happy for you Harv, I’m glad you got your happy ending.”

y/n patted her hand on his back, caressing him. It felt right, having him in her arms as she continued to whisper into his ear, “It’s ok, don’t worry about me. After all, I’ve got you, my Apollo.”

Her Apollo. Harvey was practically red as a tomato, gushing at her precious words. He has liked y/n for years now. And now was the perfect opportunity to tell her. He had to tell her. He had to say the three little words that have haunted him for years. I love you. In the intimacy of each other's arms, he could have her, finally. Before he could utter the words resting on the tip of his tongue, another voice beat him to it. 

“y/n.” Bruce had found his way behind her. Upon hearing his voice, she shot up, out of Harvey’s touch, and sat as straight as a ladder. Sitting between the boys she could feel the intensity of the glares they sent each other. Attempting to disarm the situation, she turned to face Bruce, giving him full attention as they discussed something.

Harvey couldn’t care less about what they were talking about, but he did feel a pang of envy. For Bruce to steal her attention in a heartbeat, and catch her flustered, was a rarity for Harvey. But it got him thinking, this was just the kind of world he was born into. The kind where people take and refuse to give. Where the hurt can only be scarred. Bruce lay a testament to that, while Harvey became an exception. What would it do to y/n?

The line between the rich and the poor was no man’s land and the people who crossed it were bound to get hurt. y/n wasn’t weak, but he couldn’t bear to see her suffer. He wanted to protect her, and it seemed that the only way he could do that was by keeping his love to himself. Better for him to stay by her side than overcomplicate things with labels.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

Reading so many tumblr fics has completely ruined me from ever reading a Wattpad story that ain’t in 2nd person POV😭😭

Not Again- Part Four

Summary: With the discovery of a special book, Y/n is one step closer to home. The inner court learns even more about her family back home. And Azriel needs a babysitter of his own

Series Masterlist

-Part Four-

Amren found them in the kitchen, food had been waiting for them on the counter before they’d even arrived, the house it seemed was sick of her not eating as well. She’d simply laughed at the nagging presence and started filling her plate. Azriel had entered moments later, a small scowl on his lips from being left in her dust. He’d huffed and quietly filled his plate, he wasn’t kidding when he said flying worked up his appetite.

“I have use of your stray, boy. Go find somewhere else to be.”

Azriel gives the small female an unimpressed look, “nice to see you too, Amren.”

Y/n pushes her half eaten plate away, waving off the wisps of shadows that angrily dance around her at the action, “Did you find something?”

“I had that insufferable songbird pull any books she could find with your Wyrd marks,” Amren says, snapping her fingers.

A pile of books fall onto the counter, old withered pages that look like they hadn’t been opened in many many years. A plume of dust flies off them and Y/n wisks it away with a small breeze.

“Can you read them?” Azriel asks, eyeing the pages one book that’d fallen open.

“I thought I told you to find somewhere else to be?” Amren snaps, though there’s no threat behind it.

“My babysitter here is vigilant in his task,” Y/n sighs ignoring the withering look Azriel gives her, she takes one of the books into her hands and flips through some of the pages, “My mother taught me what she knew of the marks. Protection, locking, unlocking, many things like that, but we never covered gates, it simply wasn’t possible, and she didn’t want me testing fate.”

“Well to bad, it would’ve been useful to know that now,” Amren sighs, picking a book out of the stack, shoving it towards her, “Gwyn said this one practically jumped off the shelf at her.”

Y/n eyes the title and almost drops the book in shock. Azriel takes a casual step closer to peer over her shoulder at the book, a shadow finds her arm and gently wraps around it, a comforting touch.

“You know it?” Amren asks, giving that wisp of shadow a curious look, “I couldn’t read it, what is it called?”

“The Walking Dead,” Y/n answers breathlessly, “in my native language.”

Azriel couldn’t read the book, but he still looks over her shoulder periodically as she flips through each page. She’d been at it for hours, taking notes on the scraps of paper littered over the dining room table. Amren had taken the remaining books to look over, most had been fae scholars from this world musing over the marks, nothing quite as useful as the book in Y/n’s hands it would seem. Amren would also look over the Book of Breathings, see if anything jumped out at her.

Y/n had barely spoken to him the whole time, quietly mumbling to herself once in a while as she wrote. Azriel noticed that her notes switched between his language and her own in sporadic patterns, sentences switching back and forth, one word in one language then the next in the other. Swirling letters that connected in long strokes of her pen. The words were close together, she hardly lifted the pen as she finished one to write the next, like her brain was moving faster than her hand could keep up.

She was so focused that she didn’t notice Azriel slip out the door, didn’t notice when Rhys had appeared and waved him towards the hall.

“How’s research going?” The High Lord asks, “Amren has yet to find anything useful.”

Azriel turns an eye through the door, at the female still engrossed in that book, “nothing yet, though it seems Y/n may put Amren to shame in relentless focus. I don’t think she’s looked away from that book for more than the few seconds it takes to write something down.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Amren she has the competition,” Rhys chuckles, “I hear you two went for a flight today. All over Velaris people are talking about the almighty Shadowsinger chasing after a bird all afternoon.”

He gives Azriel a shit eating grin and Az scowls back at him, “she was determined to leave her babysitter in the dust.”

His scowl deepens when Rhys just laughs, “what? Don’t like chasing after pretty females?”

“I’m sure his ego is just bruised cause he can’t keep up,” Y/n’s voice calls out from the room behind them, “Big strong males tend to dislike being shown up by us pretty females.”

Azriel glares over his shoulder at the female who hadn’t even looked up from her notes, “I can keep up just fine.”

“Sure you can,” she laughs, turning a page, “I won’t hold back next time if that’s what you wish.”

His shadows laugh in his ears and he turns his glare on them. Rhys next to him grins as he walks into the room, eyes taking in the mess of papers full of Y/n’s half put together thoughts. She finally looks up then, acknowledging the male with a small nod of her head.

Her eyes are tinged red, like she hadn’t even blinked in the time she’d been sitting there. She glances at him, grinning at the scowl still on his lips. He glares harder, shoving his shadows down as they continue to laugh at him.

Rhys looks between them, “found anything useful?”

It breaks their stare and her smile falls. Azriel gets the strangest sense that he wants it back.

“Yes and no,” she sighs, “I recognize a lot of it, this was the book my mother learned a lot of what she knows of the Wyrd marks. She used it to open a gate to the place souls rest once to talk to… a friend. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere, I just need to keep looking.”

He notes the pause, the shift of her tone, whoever Aelin had tired to talk to, it was a sore subject. Take a break, she’s sad again, sad, she needs to rest, working for hours, hours, break. Azriel is half tempted to hiss at the nosey little shadows. They’d been at it for the last hour, as soon as the sun started to dip below the horizon, it’s like they switched into nanny mode. He wasn’t sure why they were so concerned anyway, she was more than capable of taking care of her damn self.

“The gates are the tricky ones,” she continues, grabbing pages of notes, “I’m close to figuring it out, I could probably open a gate, but to get to the right place is the hard part is opening one to the right place. I could just as easily walk right into a hell realm as I could into my own. And as fun as that seems, I’d rather not test my luck.”

“How many realms are out there?” Azriel asks.

“Who knows,” she shrugs, “my mother remembers falling through many, she couldn’t even describe most of them because of how fast she was falling. Give me a day and I think I could figure this out-“

“You’ve been at it for hours,” Rhys cuts in, “surely you could take a break. Maybe join us for dinner? We’ve all stewed up more questions for you, Cassian has a list.”

Yes, yes, yes, dinner, she didn’t eat enough, yes. Mother above, he wished he could get the shadows to shut up.

Y/n hesitantly glances at the papers surrounding her on the dining room table, “I seem to have commandeered the space. I’d hate for it to get stained.”

Azriel could tell that what she really wanted to say was, I need to keep working so I can get home. It was written in the longing glances at the book, in the way she flew towards the horizon like home was on the other side, the way she looked at the sky expectantly, searching for something he couldn’t quite figure out.

“We’ll eat at my home,” Rhys shrugs, “your research will be here, exactly where you left it when you return.”

She looks ready to argue, to deny, to beg to stay, but instead she sighs, “Is dinner a casual affair, or does your lot like to preen?”

Rhys laughs, “It’s whatever you like, preen as much as you wish.”

She hums, “My babysitter and I will be there shortly then.”

Mother, give him strength. She pushes to her feet, giving him that saccharine smile as she walks past him towards her room. Her scent lingers as she leaves, that hint of embers stronger than usual. He can’t help the subtle intake of air, nor the shadow that grazes her wrist like it would wrap around and make her stay.

She’s barely out the door before Rhys is clapping him on the shoulder with a quiet chuckle, “do you need a babysitter? I’m sure Cassian would like to return the favor.”

Azriel snarls at him, “We’ll see you at the house brother.”

Rhys just laughs again, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he moves towards the door, “take your time. I wouldn’t blame you for being a little late.”

“Get out.”

Azriel waits for her in the living room, she’d still been in her room when he’d gotten dressed, which wasn’t surprising since it only took him a few minutes to change into a slightly nicer shirt, he didn’t bother with the preening, Rhys did that enough for all of them.

Heel clicks on the floor alert him to her approach, she turns the corner into the room and Azriel couldn’t stop the way his body goes absolutely still.

He thought night court black suited her but he was wrong, she looked good in it but it didn’t compare to the way she looked in this dress. Deep green of a forest, the silk fabric flows with her body like water, showcasing each of those curves like currents, with accents of silver thread and shining jewels that glow in the light like the stars above. She’d lined her eyes with kohl, giving them that sultry look that could drive a male wild. And her lips, Mother help him, her lips were painted a deep wine red, so dark it could’ve been black.

Gorgeous, she was absolutely gorgeous. He’d known she was pretty, he wasn’t blind, he’d noticed when he’d found her laying in the moonlight, even covered in blood she was beautiful, but it didn’t strike him till now exactly how attractive she was.

“You like what you see shadowsinger?” Her grin is feline and lethal, voice dripping with honey, “I told you I was your type.”

He doesn’t respond, simply continues to look her over. There’s a fire in her eyes that has his shadows whirling around him and when her head angles in that predator way, he’s almost willing to be the prey.

House wasn’t a good discriptor of the giant building that sits before her. Manor maybe, but Azriel had called it the River House. Rhys and Feyre’s personal residence that Feyre had apparently designed herself. The garden in the back had been where she’d fallen into this world, she’d been to frantic to really appreciate her surroundings. It was absolutely beautiful.

Azriel led her through the front door and the interior was just as magnificent as the outside, intricate and elegant, yet it still felt warm and lived in. A multitude of paintings lined the walls as they walked to the dining room. From their conversation earlier, she assumed they were done by Feyre herself. The High Lady had mentioned her art studio, she had a class this afternoon that she would be teaching. Y/n had leaned towards musical arts, but she always loved going to galleries with her aunt Lysandra. According to Rhys, there was a section of Velaris called the rainbow, the artist quarter of the city. She assumed she’d flown through it today with Azriel, the place had been alive, filled with music that she couldn’t help but be drawn to.

As they moved down the hall she could hear the sounds of the Inner Court, as they called themselves, growing closer and closer. Their laughter reminded her of home, of dinners with the cadre and her uncles visiting from Adarlan, or even Nesryn and Sartaq all the way from the southern continent. They were never quiet affairs, always full of laughter and teasing, usually from Fenrys and Dorian on the later.

The last dinner like that had been little over a month ago. She’d dressed up in a gown this exact color. Her aunt Elide had helped her do her makeup, she’d practically had to hold her down in her chair so she could finish, to excited to sit still. It was her favorite nights of the year, these dinners, seeing her family come together all in one place. Sometimes they’d even convince Manon to join them, never aunt Manon, though she’d gotten away with that once when she was a child. It was always magical seeing her and Dorian dance around each other as if they weren’t desperate for the other.

She would sit there and watch her family, watch the way everyone loved each other. How her parents would stare into each others eyes and grin like someone had told a joke. How her uncle Aedion would dance with her aunt Lysandra to music only the two of them could hear. How uncle Chaol and aunt Yrene would bicker together with smiles still on their lips, to the utter annoyance of her cousin, Josefin. She watched them all, and hoped one day she would have someone who would love her just as fiercely

“Where’d you go, princess?”

Her mind drifts back from that far away place across the stars, finding Azriel’s gaze on her. Stoic as always, but she could see the bit of concern behind those whiskey eyes. It warms something in her, just barely, just enough for her to give him a small but genuine smile.

“Home,” she says quietly, “I was home.”

“So you’re telling me, a demi fae is one of your strongest warriors,” Cassian says, throwing quotes around the words, “and the guys power is death, just pure death? And he’s how tall exactly?”

Y/n laughs, “My uncle Lorcan has described it to me as death, I’m not sure what that means exactly, it was a gift from the old God of Death, Hellas. It looks like Azriel’s shadows, though they’re not sentient little creatures more like whips of shadow that he controls. I don’t know how tall he is exactly but he’s taller then you, he’s taller than all three of you males, actually. You should see the height difference between him and Elide.”

Azriel couldn’t help the small grin on his lips as his brother continues to pester Y/n over the apparently giant uncle of hers. It’d started with him asking about her father, and then the rest of his cadre. She’d told them all about the mighty warriors. Fenrys, who she could only describe as very very pretty, he could shift into a giant white wolf, and winnow, though not quite as much as those here could. Lorcan, the giant shadow wielder, who’s name is apparently Lord Lorcan Lochan, to everyone’s utter amusement. And a mysterious figure named Vaughan, who she admits wasn’t around a lot when she grew up, usually away in Wendlyn, he could shift into a massive osprey.

“There’s no way, he’d have to be like seven feet tall,” Cassian argues, mouth opening to ask yet another question.

Nesta elbows him in the side, “I want to hear more about the shapeshifter.”

“Lysandra,” Y/n supplies the name with a warm smile, “Her favorite form is a snow leopard, lethal creatures, but the softest fur you’d ever felt in your life. When I was a child she’d let me cuddle up next to her by the fire to take naps.”

“You’d mentioned a sea battle earlier,” Mor chimes in, “what was the creature she shifted into.”

Y/n’s eyes light up, “One of my favorite stories, I would beg to hear it again and again. It’s called a sea dragon, the companions of the Mycenians of old Terrasen. When they were banished from their home centuries ago the sea dragons all died out and it became legend that once the dragons returned, so would the Mycenians.”

Azriel watches her, enraptured by her stories. It had been like that the whole night. She’d been stolen away by Feyre as soon as they’d arrived, more and more questions being thrown at her throughout dinner. He’d taken a seat across from her next to Cassian, who had by far asked her the most. But she met each one with a story, that look in her eye from out in the hall hidden but not gone. She’d seemed lost, far far away, and so sad. He’d almost turned around and brought them back to the house of wind just so she could keep looking for a way home, just to erase that look. But when she’d smiled at him, all he could do was stare.

“During the war my mother had traveled to Skulls bay.” She talked with her hands, Azriel noticed. “One of the missing Mycenians was there, she’d figured it out a long time before that when she was still an assassin, when she’d wrecked the whole port to free hundreds of slaves. Captain Rolfe, the pirate lord, was not happy to learn the assassin who’d ruined his island was actually the long lost Queen of Terrasen. He refused to send aid, so my mother did what she does best, she schemed. Her and my aunt devised the plan to bring the sea dragon back. The battle didn’t go quite as planned, the valg had sea wyverns, vicious and powerful. But that sea dragon form, huge and magnificent was stronger, smarter. She used them against the valg forces, sending those beasts straight into the hulls of their own ships. My mother tells me that she could barely keep up with Lysandra’s speed, if you blinked she was gone. It was close, she was badly wounded, but she won.”

“Wow,” Elain breathes, eyes sparkling, “That’s amazing.”

“My uncle Aedion tells it better,” Y/n shrugs, smiling at the memory, “He always told me that it was then that he decided he could not live without her. When he saw her bleeding on that beach still in that huge form, half wild from the fight, he wasn’t afraid of her even though she looked ready to bite his head off.”

Cassian laughs, hooking an arm over the back of Nesta’s chair, “I know the feeling.”

Nesta looked half tempted to bite him right then to prove his point. Cassian simply grins at his mate, that telltale look in his eyes that would usually have the pair leaving early at any moment.

Azriel rolls his eyes at the pair, looking towards the female across from him. To find Y/n already looking right back. She’s got that overly sweet smile on her painted lips that she knows gets under his skin. He gets the sense that she enjoys it, the way he glares at her, it’s like a game. See how much she could push before he finally pushed back.

Rhys leans forward, that knowing grin on his lips again, “How fast can you fly in that hawk form? You said you went easy on poor Az earlier.”

She laughs and somehow he doesn’t care that it’s at his expense, “Very very fast, I can shift the air under my wings to go even faster. I could make it to the house of wind in less than a minute if I wished.”

“Impressive,” Azriel says, rolling his eyes.

“Oh don’t be a sore loser, Az,” she taunts.

It’s the first time she’s called him that, he quite enjoys the sounds of it, “Is it really losing if your competitions got a boost?”

“Only using what’s in my arsenal,” she shrugs nonchalantly, taking a sip of her wine.

Azriel’s eyes zero in on the motion, appreciating the way her lips rest on the edge of the glass. He was right, that color stained.

Careful brother, Rhys whispers in his mind, Or I really will send Cassian to babysit you.

He glares at the high lord, I do not need a sitter.

That’s what Cassian said, Rhys shrugs, Now look at him.

And it’s like a timer goes off on his patience, Cassian stands from his chair, taking his mate’s hand in his own.

“Well I think it’s time for us to go,” Cassian declares, he’d lasted longer than Azriel thought he would.

Nesta turns her eye on Y/n, “We train at the house of wind every morning, 8 am sharp, be there.”

Y/n grins, baring those sharp canines, and Azriel has the good sense to be wary of letting those two near each other in a sparring ring.

Tag List- Anyone in white could not be tagged. Let me know if I got your tag wrong!!

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 @fussel9913

Series Masterlist - Smoke Eater

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Get ready for an AU! Several SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Jack Kline, Benny Lafitte, Gordon Walker, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Nick (yes, even him), and more!

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and even a murder mystery. Rating for eventual smut, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read:

The Smoke Eater Playlist: YouTube || Spotify

Chapters:

Part 1 - Class and Style - Podcast Version!

Part 2 - Lieutenant Winchester

Part 3 - Got a Hold on Me

Part 4 - Rocky Road

Part 5 - Twitterpated

Part 6 - Just Casual

Part 7 - Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle

Part 8 - Likewise, Baby

Part 9 - Do Not Disturb

Part 10 - Toil and Trouble

Part 11 - Heart of the Home

Part 12 - All in the Family

Part 13 - Boiling Point

Part 14 - Message in a Bottle

Part 15 - The Good Part

Part 16 - Break Down the Gates

Part 17 - The Real Deal

Part 18 - V for Vendetta

Part 19 - Sacrifice

Epilogue - Easy as Pie

Series Complete!

Bonus One-Shots:

Something Real** Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

(Want to listen to the podcast version? Keep scrolling below!)

🎙️ Podcast Fics:

Listen to Part 1 in podfic form!

(A "podfic" is where you can listen to the story narrated.)

(Cover image and narration by @talltalesandbedtimestories)

Or listen to the official Idling in the Impala episode of Smoke Eater Part 1 on YouTube:

YouTube

Ramble On - Smoke Eater

Podfic Time – “Smoke Eater” by Zeppelin_SkiesCongratulations to SPN FanFic Pond member zepskies (Zeppelin_Skies on AO3) on her “Leap Year” e

Or listen on Spotify.

Listen to the Idling in the Impala podfic episode of the sequel story, Something Real below:

YouTube

Ramble On - Something Real

Podfic Time – “Something Real” by Zeppelin_SkiesI loved getting the chance to bookend Zeppelin_Skies “Smoke Eater” series with the narration

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

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