Archive of Our Own

The music was pretty much what she imagined when she first planned on sneaking into the ballroom, fancy, pretentious and so boring. People were dancing anyway, the kind of dance you have to be taught, with coordinated steps and dips and that made everyone look like trained monkeys in expensive outfits.

She loved every second of it.

It was open bar, probably the only saving grace of this whole party, and Selina found herself a place on an empty stool as soon as she walked into the room. The stool was at the far end of the bar, far away enough that it felt quite private and gave her a good view of the entire place.

At the other side of the room, sitting on one of the many tables, she could see the Mayor, talking to people and smiling politely at them. That woman lasted much more than anyone thought she would, taking over Gotham after the flood and the death of Falcone. She was now at the end of her run, and already planning a second candidacy.

Selina had been gone for about three years. For a while she thought she could stay away forever, never come back to this horrid place, but sometimes she felt like she was being pulled to it. As if any road she picked for herself led her right back here, and eventually she couldn't keep fighting to stay away anymore.

She would dream of Gotham, dark nights and rain and neon lights, of screams and cries, of fighting for her life and the life of the ones she'd lost. But mostly, she would dream of him, his eyes, his jaw, the feeling of his mouth on hers, and everything they couldn't be for each other. The Bat was always on her head, like she tattooed him on her thoughts, marked him on her brain.

So she came back, hoping to quiet the pulling need she felt just to be here. She kept a low profile, avoided Batman at every turn because she feared what seeing him would do to her. She was a coward, yeah, but it was too hard. She's been in Gotham for a whole week, yet she still feels as restless as she felt when she was all those miles from the city.

The barman asked her order, pulling her out of her loud thoughts, and she asked for a Vesper out of habit. The drink is her go to when she goes out to steal from the prim and proper of society. It matches her mindset perfectly.

When she turns her gaze back to the party, her eyes catch on a tall figure on the other side of the room, right in front of the wide windows of the ballroom. That must be Bruce Wayne, the former recluse prince of Gotham, now one of the most important figures working to put the city back together.

He is wearing a dark blue suit with a dark red tie, the fabric glowing in light like only very expensive fabrics did, his hair combed back making his cheekbones stand out. What happened to him? She wonders, her eyes unable to move from him as if she was caught in a spell.

Last time she saw him was on television, many years before. The anchor was talking about his surprise appearance on the memorial of late Mayer Don Mitchell. She remembers thinking he looked out of place and a little tired, his eyes dark and hollow, his figure skinny and pale.

He was nothing like that now, his posture is confident, his smile is easy and he doesn't look troubled on having to make conversation with the people around. It's like a completely different person. The suit fits him perfectly, and she can tell by the way it hugs his arms that he has bigger muscles underneath.

He nods at something the woman he was talking to said, and then she leaves, making her way though the people on the border of the dance floor. Bruce Wayne stays where he was for a moment before walking to the opposite direction. Selina eyes follow him as he walks to a recluse part of the ballroom, letting his back fall on the pillar behind him and closes his eyes for a second.

That makes her even more curious. As soon as he found himself alone his entire posture changed back to what she saw on the news that time, back to out of place, back to shy. He was pretending, it seemed, and he was good at it.

Movement on her side takes her attention from the prince of Gotham, and she turns to see the barman delivering her drink. She smiles in thanks and takes it, turning back to keep her entertaining game of people watching while taking a healthy sip, but the millionaire was nowhere to be seen.

She starts scanning the crowd looking for his dark hair and blue suit, but comes up short. He vanished the second she wasn't looking. Annoyed, she drops back into the stool and takes a bigger sip of her drink. At least they used the expensive shit on this types of parties.

...

She lets herself be caught into the movement of the party, makes polite conversation, dance the fancy dances and even flirts with the ones she likes, but she ends up feeling bored much earlier than expected. So, she forces herself to talk to some more people, the ones a little too drunk that had expensive watches and bracelets that were worth stealing.

When she feels satisfied that this whole night wasn't a complete waste, she makes her way to the same balcony she used to sneak in. At first, it looks empty, so she walks in further to the railing. The garden underneath seems empty too. Ah, how she loves untrustworthy guards.

"Hi." A voice comes from behind her, startling her and making her jump. For a moment, her brain insists she knows that voice, but when she turns she realizes it couldn't be. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Bruce Wayne says, hand scratching the back of his head, his face apologetic.

"Oh, Mr. Wayne, is fine, don't worry." She says, embarrassed at the way even people like millionaires can manage to startle her nowadays. He nods, his lips turning into a non-smile that makes his face look wrong, somehow, and he proceeds to stare at her face without saying another word.

Selina wants out of there, but she can't just jump out of this balcony in front of him, can she? She is supposed to be a normal guest in this privet party for the rich, and normal party guests don't jump fifteen feet to the ground on heels. Not that she's aware of, anyways. She doesn't know what to do to make him leave, though, and he is just standing there looking at her.

She notices that his tie is loosened, hanging from his neck in an odd angle, and the top buttons on his shirt are opened. It's weird, seeing him look so disheveled, it's almost like he was trying to free himself of those pieces of clothing.

"I needed some air, you know? It's crowded in there..." She says, putting a smile on her face and using the same tone of voice she used to use on the people at the club. His face doesn't change when he nods in understanding, and is frustrating that she's having a hard time reading him.

Jesus, is he not going to say anything? She normally can get people fumbling and blabbering words with just a look, yet this one doesn't even bother to change his facial expression. Go figures the only one immune to her charms is this stupid playboy with staring problems.

"Well, I better get back in there!" She smiles again, and looks at him tilting her head down a little. Bruce Wayne was supposed to smile at her and apologize, tell her he will leave if she wants to be alone for a moment and then do just that, but he doesn't say anything.

She is forced to walk in the direction of the door, still waiting for his offer to leave on her place, and by the time she gets to the threshold it seems like she will have to run away by the fully secured front door after all. It's nothing she hadn't done before, but definitely something she would like to avoid.

Her last try is to stop, turn around and say "Goodbye, Mr. Wayne." In hope he would at least follow her inside and leave the balcony. But, as the words leave her mouth her eyes catch on a stretch of skin revealed by the opened shirt and it makes her stop on her tracks. The light from the party is hitting him just right, his face more visible now that is not partially hidden by the dark of the night. If only his beautiful face was the only thing that became more visible by the light.

Right there on his chest, close to his right shoulder, there is a soul mark of a waning moon and a twelve pointed star, the moon big and the star small, almost merging into each other. She knows that mark, she sees it every day on her own hip when she takes off her clothes to shower or change. That mark is hers, always had been, and yet is almost like an out-of-body experience seeing it on somebody else's skin.

Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham, the recluse, the orphaned heir of the biggest corporation in town, the man that became the poster boy of the reconstruction of Gotham. That was her soulmate? The man that was so much her opposite it hurt? The man that represented everything she fought against?

Of course he was.

She has been standing there for way too long now, and by the way his eyebrows creak he might be wondering what has her staring at him like that. Panicking, Selina bolts inside the ballroom and makes her exit in such haste people send her annoyed looks all the way out.

...

She freaks out for an entire day, the next day, complaining to her strays about the injustice of the universe and how much of a freak show the system to sort out soulmates must be. She complains about the patriarchy and balancing of founds and how much she hates the fact that there is no one to hold accountable to this particular situation.

She cracks open a bottle of cheap wine she keeps on her fridge for moments like this, drinking it all while binge-watching the first season of Grey's Anatomy because she hates herself. Crappy Chinese food accompanies half of another cheap bottle of wine, and by then she's truly and well drunk.

Eventually, she gets too pumped up on frustrated energy to sit still on her apartment, and her drunk as hell brain decides is a fucking fantastic idea to let her frustration out on shitty burglars. She suits up and leaves her apartment to do just that.

Unfortunately, to her utter demise, the amount of criminal activity is way lower than it was before she left, at least the ones on the streets. She stops a mugging under the bridge and scares away some punks from a couple of girls coming out of a club, but other than that she finds nothing to occupy her brain and drain energy.

On an ordinary night she would be proud of this, clearly the Batman has made a big difference after all, but this is most definitely not an ordinary night. She needed to find distraction, and walking down empty, silent streets all night leave a lot of room for thoughts to grow.

She is almost giving up, her drunk buzz all gone due to time and utter frustration, when she hears a scream. It echoes through the silent streets, disturbing the peace for just a moment with it's desperate nature until it fades into silence once again. Selina runs towards it without a second thought.

She finds a man backing a woman against the wall of an alley, one hand holding a knife and the other the back of her head, grabbing her hair. He's pointing the knife at her, pressing his body against hers and pushing his face on her neck as she tries to push him off and screams again.

Selina is on him in a flash, grabbing the knife from his hand before he notices her presence. She holds the back of his jacket and pulls hard, making him stumble and release the woman. As he struggles to find his footing, she kicks him on the side of the knee, and he falls to the ground with a surprised yell.

The woman finds Selina's gaze, eyes thankful and scared, and the next moment she's running away, grabbing her purse from the floor and turning the corner. The man tries to grab her feet as she passes him, and Selina can only kick him again, this time on the ribs, with all the frustration she felt seeing the situation unfolds.

"Really? Are you that stupid?" She asks the man, her voice clipped, stepping closer, so she can see his face better. The man just stares back with wide eyes, his pain and fear clear on his expressions. Good, she thinks, he deserves nothing less. "Piece of shit, if you do that again I'll fucking destroy you!" She completes, her chest filling up with so much anger it's impossible to keep herself from hitting him again.

Part of her knows she should stop, he isn't less likely to stop harassing woman just because one beat the shit out of him, but God it feels good. She went out looking for a punching bag and this here was a deserving one. He cries out in pain, begging and crying for her to stop, and she only does when his body relaxes and he passes out.

Her knuckles are bleeding, arms hurting from all the effort, and as she rises from the floor her back cracks. But the rage she felt has dimmed and she's uncapable of regretting her actions, even if she's aware of the right thing to do on scenarios like this. Fuck it, though, she won't regret it.

"He deserved it." Came a voice from behind her, and her first thought is that she imagined it, making it sound like Batman's voice, so she would feel validated somehow. But he's stepping beside her and she can see him right there, looking at the man she just beaten up with something like pride on his posture.

She just nods, tired and needing more than anything to get away from that alley. Without glancing at the vigilante, she turns on her heels and starts walking, not bothering to look back to see if he's following. She turns the corner and keeps on, making her way though the streets until she's at the top of the steps of her apartment's building. He's there when she turns around, at the bottom of the stairs watching her.

She opens the door and walks inside, leaving it open for him as an invitation without saying anything. There are a thousand things on her mind, but still she can't shake the image of Bruce Wayne wearing her soul mark, illuminated by the moon and the colorful lights from the party. Her world has shifted, and although this should be a good thing, she can't help the hollow feeling growing in her chest.

She goes straight up, choosing to climb the stairs to her apartment because the thought of having to wait for the elevator makes her anxious. As she goes, the sound of heavy boots follow, steady and firm.

Her cats are there to greet them when she opens the door, purring and demanding attention from the both of them. She picks up one of them, Susie, a white princess with big ears and no tail, as she walks farther into the apartment. The warmth of the cat on her chest is calming enough that her speeding heartbeat settles into a slower pace.

She hears the door close softly, and just like that she's once again alone in her apartment with Gotham's most famous vigilante. She turns to look at him.

"Are you ok, Selina?" He asks, looking up at her from where he's kneeling down to pet Bobby, an older cat with three black paws that she found two years ago. She hates the question he asked as soon as the words leave his mouth, because she's too fed up about everything not to answer him. But, at the same time, she doesn't think it would go well if she told him the truth.

It doesn't matter that she hasn't seen Batman in years or that this is the first conversation they are having after she got back, because they have something bigger than time itself: history and shared trauma. He knows more about her than anyone, he saw her at her lowest and helped her through it, he is the man she fantasized coming back to anytime she felt sad or alone.

And, yes, they didn't have a relationship when she left, they definitely don't have one now, but when she looks at that square chin and make up stained eyes her body warms up in ways deeper than just simple attraction. She doesn't have to tell him anything, and yet she wants to.

"I found my soulmate..." She murmurs, deciding to get it done with, her eyes fixed firmly on the purring cat on her arms because she's not as brave as to look him in the eyes. "I met him and I don't know what to do." She blurts out when he fails to say anything for more seconds than she was willing to wait.

He's still quiet when she finds the courage to look up at him, his hands, that before were petting Bobby, are now frozen as he stares back at her with no expression whatsoever.

"Whe... Who is it?" He says, sounding more frustrated than she has ever heard him. How can he look so calm and sound so agitated at the same time? He gets up and lets out a big breath, abandoning the cat and walking towards her.

"Um... that's the best part!" She begins, fake enthusiasm bleeding through the words. "The Universe is a certified asshole..." She drops the cat she was holding gently on the floor as he stops in front of her. Up close, his eyes were pained, almost fearful, and she has no idea why. "My soulmate is Bruce fucking Wayne." She finally says diverting her gaze to the ground and wishing her eyes would burn a hole on the ground where she could hide on.

The sound of a sharp intake of breath is followed by stark silence, leaving Selina so anxious her skin starts to feel too tight for her own body. She looks back up, trying to read the hidden expressions on the vigilante's eyes, but to no avail. His face is more like a wall, or a painting, frozen still, if not a little paler than usual.

"How did you... when did you find out?" He asks, looking uncertain of his own question, as if it could get him in trouble.

"A couple of days ago, the night of the Gala." She begins, and his shoulders are looking more tense by the second. "His shirt was open, just a little, but I saw it, right here on his chest." Selina points to Batman's chest, her finger moving over the place where she had seen the mark on Bruce Wayne's chest.

He takes a step back until her hands are no longer on him, holding her shoulders lightly so she won't get closer again. His eyes are on her face, searching, seeking something she's unsure of what.

"It feels like a joke, doesn't it?" She murmurs, avoiding his eyes.

"This is not funny." He says, and he sounds so frustrated, offended even. Her chest feels warm at his display of unhappiness, and isn't that the wackiest thing? Some part of her is pleased by the fact this man is unhappy by her revelation, some part of her is elated by the slight chance he might be jealous.

Vengeance is not her soulmate, though, no matter how much she wishes he was.

"Oh no, it's hilarious." She steps back, freeing herself from his light grasp and turning her back to him. Her chest feels like it's about to explode, fed by the thoughts flooding her mind. Why Bruce Wayne? Why does the universe demand it has to be him when her heart so clearly wants another? Can the universe even make mistakes?

Her eyes fill with tears, but she refuses to let them fall. She's crying over something she has absolutely no control over, and isn't that just pathetic? She doesn't even know how Batman feels about her, maybe it doesn't matter at all. He could very much just like her as a friend, a partner to fight crime sometimes, and the entire situation was just created by her overworking imagination.

She walks until her thighs hit the counter where her sink is, putting her hands on top of it and leaning forward. She closes her eyes, and the movement sets the tears she can no longer fight off down her cheeks.

"Please don't cry." His voice is soft behind her, and his appeal has the opposite effect because her throat tightens hard, and she has to hold her breath not to sob. "Selina..." She feels a hand in the middle of her back, stroking her in a gentle way that it's just too much. She lets out a small sob.

The sound barely left her mouth when his other hand is on her shoulder, and he's turning her around and pulling her closer to his chest, holding her firmly against him. They stay silent for long minutes until she finally has enough control over her own body to stop crying. It's only when he's sure the tears have stopped that he says:

"You don't have to act on the soulmate thing." His voice is almost a whisper, breaking into the loud thoughts on her head. "I know he's everything you never wanted, but he doesn't know who you are and doesn't have to, he doesn't ever have to know." He sounds almost resigned, she thinks, like he made up his mind about it. It would confuse her if her mind wasn't stuck on the part where Vengeance assumed she was sad because Bruce Wayne was her soulmate. He was comforting her about it, even.

That wasn't the problem, though. She could deal with that, could accept the recluse prince of Gotham as hers and live happily ever after on the Wayne tower. Her principles were sharp, and she would never abandon them, but soulmate love was worth changing the way she dealt with the social-economic deficit in the world.

Bruce Wayne was not the problem, Batman was.

"I don't think I can tell him." She begins, her tone as broken as his was. "It wouldn't be fair." She says into the armor.

"How come?" He asks, his hand moving gently up and down the line of her spine.

At his question she realizes there is no reason to hold back anything anymore, so she makes up her mind. What difference would it make if she kept her feelings to herself now that her heart is already broken? She is probably all the way in love with a man that isn't her soulmate, so trying to save what is left of her heart was worth the possibility of it breaking again.

"I can't tell him because he would expect more than I can give him, a relationship or something." Selina pulls away from his embrace just enough to look him in the eyes. His mouth is once again without expression and she would think he doesn't care about what she's saying if his body wasn't so tense. "But I want someone else, so it wouldn't be fair." She says with as much confidence she can gather to make sure he would have no doubts to whom she was referring to, moving a hand to cradle his jaw.

Batman's eyes widen, his body tensing even more against hers, and her heartbeat spikes to a million times a minute as she watches him processing her words. A second tic by, then another, but he remains frozen still. Then, he drops his hands and take a step back, putting space between them.

"Fuck!" He whisper-shouts, looking straight to the tiles on the floor of her small kitchen. Her stomach drops violently, and the sound of her heart breaking is so loud it reverberates through her body. Her knees feel weak, she has to grab the counter to keep herself standing. Selina has no idea what to do with herself, and she has half a mind to flee the apartment and the city entirely, her body shaking with embarrassment.

Vengeance begins pacing, walking between her living room and the kitchen, looking like a caged animal. She has never seen him that nervous before, it was like he was fighting his own mind and was somehow still managing to lose. Suddenly he stops, his eyes moving to the ceiling and focusing there for a long second before finding hers.

"I can't do this anymore." He whispers, and it doesn't seem like he's talking to her even if she's the only one there with him. Then, suddenly, he turns and walks towards her again until he's standing just a foot away, takes a big breath and says: "I'm sorry, Selina."

She wants to ask him why exactly he is apologizing for, tell him he doesn't own her anything and that she is the stupid one for falling in love with a man she knew full well was not capable of giving her what she wanted. She was going to say it, she even opened her mouth to do it, but then he's taking his gloves off, throwing them on the counter beside her, and it distracts her enough that she forgets what she was going to say.

She looks at the gloves wondering why would he take them off, and them back at his face fast enough to watch as he reaches beneath his armor on the place closest to his neck.

"Vengeance!" She exclaims as she processes his intentions, her body surging forward without her will to grab his hands and stop this madness. "What the fuck are you doing?" She screams at him.

"I'm telling you." He responds, looking straight at her. It takes her aback, the way his voice is resolved, as if his peace was made about it.

"What? Why now?" Her brain hurts, it feels like for the last half an hour all she did was grasp in vain for anything that made sense, but kept failing over and over again.

"Let me." He says instead of answering, tugging at the hands she had grabbing on his mask. She reluctantly removes her hands, and his take their place back to his neck.

He lifts the cowl slowly, or maybe that is just how she experienced it, his face revealing itself bit by bit as if in slow motion. When the cowl is completely off, he drops it on top of the gloves beside her.

At first, she's confused, the black circles of ink around his eyes throwing her off, but when it downs on her is like she's been punched. Once again she has to fight to stand upright, as if her body needed all her strength to process the figure in front of her.

Bruce Wayne.

Her soulmate.

Vengeance.

Her stomach turns inside her, chest feels warm and tight, eyes fill with tears that she let fall down because it doesn't matter anymore. Vengeance is her soulmate — of course he is. It makes so much sense now that he's come and slapped her in the face with it. How stupid has she been.

Bruce looks worried, thick eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead, his eyes moving over her face as he analyzes her own facial expressions. God, it's so good to finally see what's happening behind that mask.

She takes a step, closing the distance between their bodies, her arms wrapping around his neck. He looks surprised to have her face suddenly so close to his, but makes no attempt to distance himself. At that, she smiles, wide and bright. His hand comes up to cradle her face, and he uses his thumb to trace the line of her mouth, giving a shy smile of his own.

"I don't know how this happened. I'm fucking happy it did though." He says, eyes glowing, but immediately after he frowns, eyes going wide as if he surprised himself by saying what he truly feels. Her stomach turns all over again, a billion butterflies taking flight inside it, and the laughter that escapes her is stronger than she's expecting.

"Baby..." She begins answering, but he's kissing her, his tongue invading her mouth and emptying her brain of any other thoughts as his hands gently cradle her face. The kisses are not slow or gentle, it's sucking on tongues, biting on lips that feels a lot like 'hello' and 'finally' to Selina.

Soon they are moving their hands anywhere they can reach, pulling each other in. It's nothing like the other times they kissed, all those months ago. This time is light and happy like there's nothing weighing them down anymore.

"Can I see it?" He says into her mouth, his voice hoarse and sexy but his eyes pleading and shy.

"Yes." She smiles into his mouth, stealing another toe curling kiss as she grabs his hand and nudges it towards the zipper on the side of her suit. He is quick to understand what she's telling him and opens the suit with a swift movement down. Together they free her top half, and she removes her boots before slipping off the suit from her legs.

She's left standing only in her panties and a pink tank top. His gaze is hungry as it moves over her body, taking a long pause on her breasts as her nipples are hard against the fabric of the tank top, clearly showing she's not wearing a bra. She smiles up at him and grabs one of his hands to bring it to her hip, maintaining eye contact with him to see how his face would react.

"Here." She says, and watches as he moves his gaze from her breasts to her hip. He swallows and in a second he's on his knees, putting his face at level with her soul mark and pulling her closer to see it better. He raises the shirt and lowers the stripes of her panties to better see the mark. His face is awed, and his fingers gently hover on her skin, tracing the dark curve of the moon then the small star beside it.

Her hands find his hair, and he closes his eyes for a second when she uses her nails to scratch the long hair on his neck. He looks beautiful like this, and so fucking hot. When her other hand finds a place behind his ear, his head lulls forward and his forehead falls into her hip. She laughs, proud of herself to make him like that.

He kisses her mark, making her entire body shiver in surprise and pleasure, and she can't help the way her body surges forward into his mouth. This reaction makes him look up, eyes find hers and without looking away he does it again.

She was already starting to get turned on when they began making out, but having him kneeling in front of her, his mouth on her skin, his eyes staring at her like he wants to devour her, her pussy is left quivering in want. He must realize that, because his hand grabs her ass in a strong grasp, and he licks the skin of her hip at the same time.

She is so on board with this her only reaction is to moan quietly as kisses her, and bites. As he goes, his mouth comes closer to where she needs him, and when he touches the fabric of her panties with his nose, she whimpers and her body surges forward once again. Her hands begin grabbing his hair harder, pulling and scratching. His tongue connects to her center through the panties, and she lets out a low moan and can't stop her hands from grabbing at his hair hard. He groans at that, his eyes shooting up to find hers again, his pupils looking wider, turning him dangerous in the best sort of way.

Still looking her in the eyes, he pushes her gently back, so her thighs are again on the counter, and lifts her up just enough that she's sitting on it. He crawls closer, reaching for her panties and sliding them off her legs, coming closer still until his face is right between her thighs. He kisses her pubic bone, licks it, and she's shaking with arousal and anticipation.

The sight of him, still wearing all of his armor except for the cowl, pupils wide with want as his mouth works on her is enough to get her crazy with want, but watch him lick her, right there on her clit as he watches her... Jesus, she might come just from that.

He begins with soft licks, but she's trusting her hips into his face and moaning, begging for more, so he licks harder, a hand coming up between her legs to her opening. She's really wet, so it's no surprise when his finger slides right in with little resistance, her body welcoming the invasion. He moves in and out slowly, testing her out and making her gasp. It's so good she clamps around his finger, crazy with pleasure even if it's also not enough.

When he slides on a second finger her body shakes and she moans even louder, moving against it. God, this now might be enough. His fingers curl inside her, hitting a spot that has her seeing stars, feeling so good that her body moves on its own account, harder against it. She's close, so close, her center still squeezing his fingers as he pumps into her with wet sounds. He smiles against her clit, he knows it the little shit, and sucks on it hard at the same time he inserts a third finger.

That does it, her body shakes violently, and she screams, throwing her hips against his face as her pussy clenches over and over against his fingers. He has to hold her thigh with his other hand to keep her on top of the counter as she rides her orgasm with abandon.

When its over, her body falls limp into the counter. She's breathless and panting, legs feeling like limp noodles, eyes closed and head resting on the wall, when he stands and gathers her on his arms. She lets him, dropping her head into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Fuck, that went from zero to a hundred really fast..." She mumbles into his armor. He chuckles, and she can feel his chest moving against her own. That must be the first time she had ever made him laugh, and she's so happy with herself it's almost like she just won a prize.

He agrees into her hair, a low sound from this man that normally prefers not to say anything, but ends up saying everything with his silence. Right then, she knows he's just as content as she is, happy even. They stay like that for a while, wrapped against each other as they both take in what just happened between then.

She is holding her soulmate, she realizes, and that is the only explanation to why just touching him feels like the most amazing thing she has ever done.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before... about being who I am." He murmurs some time later, pulling his face away from the top of her head to look her in the eyes.

"I know, I get why you didn't." She smiles shyly, her hand moving to cradle his jaw. "This face comes with a lot of responsibilities, doesn't it?" Her question is rhetoric, and he doesn't answer it, only smiles a sad smile that makes her heart squeeze on her chest.

"I'm so fucking happy it's you..." He says, his voice breaking a little in what she can only deduce is relieve. The smile that takes her face is uncontrolled, and she would be embarrassed of how happy knowing that made her, if it wasn't clear on his face that he was as elated as she was.

"Yeah, baby. Me too." She answers before kissing him softly, her nails playing with the hair behind his ear. Her other hand goes to his chest, and once again she can only feel his armor underneath her palm. That was fine before, when they were frantic and fast, when he was kissing her thighs and licking her clit until she didn't care about anything but his mouth on her. But now she craves physical contact, the warmth of his body against hers, she is curious to know what it would be like without anything between them.

Still kissing him, she pulls on the top part of the armor, hoping it would give and dislodge from the rest, but it stays put. Bruce smiles again into her mouth, and she might have developed an addiction to it in the last half an hour, because it makes her wild. She pulls harder, needing it gone, and it's so hard his body surges forward, and he crashes awkwardly into her.

"Behind my neck, inside. Push it." He says, his hand going up her bare back underneath her tank top to steady her. Her hand goes to where he instructed, finding the back of his neck and going inside the armor where there's a button, small and secure, she presses it.

A clicking sound and the armor seems to get looser on his body, so she tries once again to remove the part on his chest. It comes off easily, and maybe someday she will stop to admire the brilliancy of his armor, but it won't be tonight. She drops the parts on the floor beside them as she goes.

Bruce lets her do as she wants, but also does nothing to help her undress him, even leaning in and trying to kiss her neck or mouth from time to time, but she's a woman on a mission and pulls back before she starts getting distracted.

When the last part is gone, leaving him in a black shirt and only the pants of the armor, she is quick to pull him in again and kisses him hard on the lips. He groans into her mouth, the hand he had on her back pulling her closer. Her hands begin wondering, mapping the shape of his shoulders, arms, going to his back and traveling down along his spine. She grabs the shirt with her left hand, pulling it up, and her right hand finds the space that was revealed and crawls inside.

His skin is soft and hot, although she can feel the scars at his back when she moves her fingers, and Bruce lets out a long sigh into her neck at the contact. Her hands explore his long back as much as they can, committing his shape to memory.

When she's satisfied, she brings her hands to his waist, dragging her nails lightly on their way. Bruce likes that a lot, she notices as his breath gets heavy and a low sound scape his throat. She kisses him, her hands now finding their way to his abdomen still underneath the shirt, the nails tracing the deeps and highs of his flesh, feeling the movement of his breath, the warmth of his skin and the little hairs he has there.

"Touch it." He murmurs, his eyes glazed with desire and something she can only describe as desperation. She smiles wickedly because good God, he looks so hot, pupils dilated and mouth bruised from kissing and... other things.

"What?" She plays dumb, and her hand start moving downwards through his abbs. He knows what she's doing, though, and grabs her wrist just as she's touching the waist of the armor, right on top of what she assumes is his hard groin.

"Here!" He sounds impatient, but his hold on her is gentle as he moves her hand to his chest and then places it a little to the right, closer to his right shoulder. His eyes close, and she knows he's feeling what she felt when he touched her mark. An undeniable feeling of rightness, of belonging, like nothing ever felt.

Suddenly she is anxious to look at it, so she lets go of him and pulls his shirt up. He seems to know what she wants immediately, throwing his arms up to help her. His skin is much whiter than she expected, almost as he didn't leave the mansion during the day at all.

She maps his torso with her eyes, but her attention is quickly grabbed by the mark on his chest. She makes a move to touch it again, but changes her mind mid-movement, leaning in and touching her lips to it instead.

"Selina." He says, his body visually shivering against her. She prefers the mark on his

skin than on hers, it moves as he breathes and it's so beautiful the way the inky black contrasts with his marble skin.

She grabs his neck again, pushing herself into his body as she kisses his collarbone and neck, licking and biting just to hear his response to it. The sounds he makes are incredible, and it's not long before she feels like she needs him all over again.

He grabs the short hairs at the back of her head, moving her face until he can kiss her deep. He is acting like a starved man, and it does weird things to her insides. She locks her legs around his waist, pulling his hips forward until her center is against the part of the armor that covers his groin. The friction on her bare clit is wonderful, so much, so she can help but thrust against it with more strength.

"Jesus, Selina..." He sounds pained as he realizes what she's using his armor for. He pulls away just enough to see it, then groans again, this time sounding like a crazed animal. Bruce grabs her waist, pulling it closer as he moves against her, making her see stars.

He moves one hand to her tank top, pulling it off her body with one strong movement. He eyes her bare chest with awe for just a second before he leans in and licks one hard nipple with his warm tongue and explores the other with his fingers. She moans loudly, her body shaking and her head falling back. It's like she has no control over her reactions anymore, and all she can do is hump him and thrust her chest into his face, holding on to his neck for dear life.

"Fuck Bruce..." She lets out when he sucks on her nipple, teeth grazing it lightly. His mouth is perfection, it seems, seeing he can drive her to insanity in more ways than one with it.

"God, I need you." He breathes into her chest. He sounds so turned on, his voice so deep, that she can't do anything but help him get what he wants. Selina throws herself into the task of getting him off his pants and inside her as fast as possible.

She struggles with the armor but eventually finds the button, and it falls down his legs with a loud clank. None of them care, and he steps out of the armor while pulling down the shorts he was using underneath along with his boxers.

He finally stands bare in front of her, much as she is in front of him. The sight of him is so beautiful, his large shoulders, defined muscles on his torso and legs, the hard leaking erection that was all hers. This man was all hers.

She reaches for it, wrapping her hand around it with gentle strength, feeling the weight and texture on her skin. He sounds lost at her touch, his head falling forward and eyes falling shut. If she thought he looked good before, nothing compares to the sight of him naked and falling apart like this.

"I want you inside me..." She whispers into his ear, sucking on the lobe. He makes a choked noise that is the only warning she receives before he's taking her hand off him and settling himself between her thighs more closely.

His erection touches her center lightly, and she wraps his hips with her legs once again, pulling it right into her warmth. They both exhale a hard breath, and she makes a weird noise that on her mind was a plea for him to hurry up. He understands it, apparently, because the next second he's holding himself with a hand and her leg up with the other while he pushes into her.

It feels incredible, his length opening her up bit by bit, making her nerve endings go into overdrive with pleasure. She's so wet he meets almost no resistance, and soon she's urging him to move before she loses her mind.

He moves, slowly at first, and then faster. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to get a better angle and his thrusts get deeper, making them both groan in satisfaction. His body is almost flush against her, her breasts against his chest, her nipples hard against his skin. He smiles, kissing her on the mouth and moving a hand to one of her breasts, squeezing. It's so good having him like this, after everything they've been through.

She never thought they could get here, and suddenly there they were like a goddamn dream.

"Faster baby." She urges, his tip hitting a spot inside her that was sure to give her what she so needed. He obeys, holding her hips more firmly as he moves. He looks broken, his expression concentrated and frantic at the same time, but when he looks at her and realizes she's looking at him, his eyes soften just a little, and he closes them.

He leans in and rests his forehead on hers, one hand going to her neck while the other goes to her clit. It's as if the touch amplifies her pleasure times a million, she loses control over the sounds coming from her mouth.

Selina pleads and begs, moans and groans, all while moving her hips frantically into him, chasing a climax that gets closer and closer with every movement. She gets so desperate her body lifts from the counter, and he has to grab her ass to keep her from falling. She pays only half a mind to it though, knowing he would never let her fall. She gasps as her body tenses, and he pumps twice inside her until she's giving in to an orgasm so strong she can't even scream, only moan unintelligible sounds into his neck.

Her pussy squeezes him over and over again, as he fucks her through her orgasm, only to give into his own a moment later. He spills inside her with a low growl that will live on her memory forever, his hands squeezing her body like a desperate man.

Her body falls back into the counter, spent, and he falls into her, his face glued to her neck, his breath fast and uncontrolled much like her own. She clings to him, wanting every part of his body touching hers even if he's still inside her. She likes having him up and close on her personal space.

It takes a moment before they can speak again, or even move, and they wait together for the moment when they can finally move without the fear of failing. Who knew that Batman was capable of fucking her so good her legs would stop working?

"Let's go to bed, Bruce." She says to him, her hand on his flushed cheeks as she stares into his eyes with wonder. He smiles tiredly, kissing her forehead before pulling away until he's no longer inside her. She feels empty with him gone, but can help but smile back at him.

He offers his hand to her, and she accepts easily, grabbing his hand and hopping off the counter, then leading them to her bedroom. They fall asleep just as they lay on her bed, tired and spent on the best way possible, her head on his chest, his hand around her waist, both making a point of touch the mark that was proof of whom their one true love is.