bruce wayne one shots

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 31ST

Set the Scene: The streets are crowded for the holiday, even with the rain. Tonight, Bruce's sights aren't on any outside threat but rather the crowd within Gotham's posh nightclub.

*warning* Some swear/mature words. Stalking/obsession...again. Drifter Bruce! Some smut but quick. Up close and personal. Drinking**!! Nightclub has kinda same vibe as Lounge/44*. 

I'm glad to be uploading again, something new soon perhaps...

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''TILL DAWN HALLOWEEN PARTY @ GOTHAM'S MOST POPULAR NIGHTCLUB.

COSTUME ONLY'

Bruce gripped the soaked flyer within his gloved hold, eyes tracing along the brightly lined words. The roaring laughter and shouting enveloped the puddled streets as he walked through the crowds undetected. Hundreds of masked faces and costumed-draped bodies took shape, filling in every corner of the square. Tonight, Bruce was one of them, drifting past the holiday celebration in search of his reasoning to be here.

Neon signed billboards surrounded the sky-lined buildings, practically illuminating the way towards the most popular event of the night. Bruce stood across the street, motionless, but steady eyes analyzed the scene in front of him: A singular line of antsy figures, some under clear umbrellas, wrapped around several blocks awaiting their acceptance into the nightclub ahead.

The rain was rushing harder, but Bruce kept his gaze dancing over the building, calculating the best (unnoticed) entrance. The roof would've been his first option, but with this weather, it would put him behind.

Keeping his head down, Bruce stretched over to the opposite street that allowed him a different perspective. Upon seeing an undisclosed, darkly dimmed backdoor, he slid his hands into his pockets and moved into the shadows.

-

The bartender slid you another drink, a slight concern in his eyes as you immediately reached for the cool glass. You didn't even bother savoring the hard liquor as you downed it in one go, slamming the glass back onto the bar top. The burn in your throat was barely noticeable to you at this pointt, a part of it actually easing your senses.

You brought your gaze up to the silent, judging eyes on the other side until they averted to another drunk waving for his attention.

After watching him leave, you focused on the rim of the glass, tracing the tip of your finger around and around. This would be your fou-fifth drink, possibly your sixth but you wouldn't know nor care. It was the one night a year where it was encouraged to let yourself loose and be someone else for a while.

At least that's what you told yourself as you slipped into your costume earlier tonight, hiding behind a mask of makeup and accessories. It was all your friend's idea who lived for all things Halloween and getting absolutely hammered until you couldn't remember your name. Both happening at the same time at Gotham's impossible to get into posh nightclub was as rare as seeing Batman himself.

You could hear the hum of your favorite song starting over the overbearing crowd, shouting and singing like this was their last night to live. As you pushed your elbows onto the bar top, waiting to flag down the bartender again, a firm hand grabbed your arm.

"That guy has been staring at you all night, what's his deal!"

You could recognize that voice as your friend who was a lot of drinks in, almost slurring most of her sentence.

She nods to the other side of the club, both of you following the line of sight to a dark corner booth, empty and quiet.

"Who? I don't see him." You leaned closer to shout in her ear, the music getting more demanding in sound.