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In the couple of months since moving into Wayne Manor, Y/N had found it difficult to adjust to her boyfriend’s lavish lifestyle. Her family didn’t live in poverty but compared to the Waynes, they were pretty much peasants. She didn’t know that butlers or proper dining etiquette were things that existed outside of fiction, and she didn’t want to seem like some Eliza Doolittle guttersnipe that Bruce was taking pity on in front of his high-society peers.
“Y/N, I didn’t ask you to move in because I feel sorry for you,” Bruce had said to her one night after a gala. “I asked you to move in because I love you.”
“I love you too, but the way those people looked at me made me feel like I don’t deserve you,” Y/N said sadly as she removed her makeup at her vanity table.
“Don’t say that, honey,” Bruce said as he crouched down to hug her from behind. “Those snobs don’t know you like I do. I don’t deserve you.”
“But when I wear these expensive clothes and jewels I feel…” Y/N trailed off, not sure how to say how she really felt.
“Feel how?” he asked, resting his head on her shoulder and looking at their reflections in the mirror.
“Fake,” she finally said. “I feel fake, like this isn’t me, it’s who people expect me to be.”
“Y/N, you and I both know who you are and that’s all that matters,” Bruce said as he gathered her into his arms and carried her over to the master bed. “How often do we go to these galas? Two, three times a year? We don’t rub elbows with them all that often so it doesn’t matter what they think.”
“I suppose,” Y/N sighed into his chest, his crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned.
“Besides, they’re the real phonies, not you,” Bruce said as he gently stroked the top of her shoulders with the backs of his fingers. “They show up to a charity event a couple of times a year and once they go home they go back to acting like poor people are vermin.”
“You’re right,” Y/N said, raising her head to look at him properly. “To hell what those assholes think.”
“That’s the spirit,” Bruce said with a soft smile.
“I still can’t get the hang of not having to do anything around the house though,” she said, her face dropping slightly.
“You’ll get there, Alfred can be a little particular about how things are cleaned so it’s best to leave him to it sometimes.”
“But he needs a break too sometimes! The butler on Fresh Prince finished his duties at nine every night.”
“Nobody on that show was a vigilante, sweetheart,” Bruce said with a chuckle.
“My point still stands,” Y/N said as she returned to the vanity table to finish getting ready for bed.
The next day, Alfred found Y/N in the kitchen. He knew that she hated being a sedentary person, but it did puzzle him that she was so eager to help with household chores.
“You don’t have to do the dishes, Ms Y/N,” Alfred said when he noticed Y/N at the sink. “I can handle them for you.”
“That’s alright, Alfred,” Y/N said cheerfully, her rubber glove clad hands plunged in the soapy water. “I don’t mind taking the workload off of you.”
“Alright, but we do have a dishwasher, you know,” he said as he made a start on that night’s dinner.
“We didn’t have a dishwasher when I was growing up, and I always found doing them by hand to be kind of therapeutic,” Y/N said, taking off her gloves once the last dish was washed and placed on the drying rack. “Hey, I can help you with dinner next if you want.”
“That’s quite alright, Ms Y/N,” Alfred said with a smile. “You don’t need to help me at all. Go rest your feet for a while before dinner.”
“Okay, but don’t be afraid to call for me if you want any help,” Y/N said as she made her way out of the kitchen.
Upstairs - which felt as if it were a block away - Y/N found Bruce in the office, looking through blueprints for whatever fancy tech Wayne Enterprises was developing. She threw herself down on the plush sofa with a sigh.
“Alfred throw you out of the kitchen again?” he asked her, not looking up from the papers on the desk.
“Yeah, but at least I got the dishes done before he caught me,” she said as she curled up with a cushion.
“I told you, Alfred’s fine with doing the housework himself, he has done for over thirty years,” Bruce said as he came to join Y/N on the couch.
“I know, but I just don’t want to feel like I’m useless or not putting my share in,” Y/N said, shifting along to make room for him. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her forehead tenderly.
“You’re not useless for doing other things, Y/N,” Bruce said to her softly. “Alfred’s allowed to take time off whenever he wants, and I’m pretty sure he likes housework more than putting his old field medic skills to use on me and Dick.”
“I guess,” Y/N said, not convinced.
Bruce laid them both down on the couch and turned the radio on with the remote that was kept on the coffee table. Music played softly as the two laid in comfort, enjoying the intimacy of being close to one another after a busy week. Y/N almost fell asleep to the sound of Bruce’s heartbeat and the feeling of him gently playing with her hair when he spoke up.
“Oh, I just remembered that I got you something,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.
“You got me something? Bruce, I told you to not spoil me all the time,” Y/N said, almost protesting as she sat up.
“I know you did, but I wanted to get you something nice since you’ve been feeling down this week,” he said as he got up and returned to the desk.
“‘Something nice’ usually means something really expensive to you, though,” Y/N said. She knew she was being ungrateful and should just accept the presents that her boyfriend, who just happened to be a billionaire, got for her, but she just couldn’t shake off her feelings.
“I’m sure you’ll like this, though,” Bruce said when he retrieved the item from the desk drawer. “Alright, close your eyes.”
Y/N did as she was told and resisted the urge to peek. She jumped slightly when she felt Bruce place something around her neck and shivered slightly when his fingers brushed against her skin.
“You can open them now,” he said, his mouth hovering dangerously close to her ear.
When she opened her eyes, she was met with her own reflection in a hand mirror that Bruce held. Around her neck was a silver necklace, a small heart-shaped pendant hanging over her décolletage, little pink diamonds glittering in the light.
“What do you think?” he asked her, his head resting on her shoulder as he looked at her in the mirror. “Do you like it?”
Y/N turned around in his embrace to look at him properly and brought her hands up to cradle his face. She kissed him softly and rested her forehead against his when they broke away from each other.
“I love it,” she whispered. “And I love you.”
“I know you don’t like statement jewellery so I asked the store assistant for their most subtle piece,” he said, placing his hand over hers where it rested over her heart.
“It’s perfect,” Y/N said, her face lighting up. “You always make me feel like a princess.”
“Anything for my Cinderella,” he said as he drew her closer for another embrace.