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#Battinson x reader smut
usetheeauthor · 2 years
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I Know What You Did Last Weekend 18+ (Smut)
Battinson!Sub!Bruce Wayne x Kravitz!Dom!Selina Kyle x Switch!Curvy!Villain!Fem!Reader
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A/N: This was long overdue. I think both Zoe and Robert are absolutely hot so I had to do it to ‘em! The picture is not meant to represent the reader’s appearance. This switches between POVs. It’s first person for your POV in the beginning while Selina’s and Bruce’s are in third/second towards the ending. Also, this is really filthy and Selina’s def top 😅 Enjoy!
Word Count: 5.1k+
Summary: Bruce goes undercover at the popular nightclub, “Club Succubus”, in search of a serial killer who murders very powerful men. Selina wants vengeance. She’s looking for the woman who killed her father when it should’ve been her. Little did they know, you’d be a lot tougher to resist.
Warnings: use of Y/N, violence, murder, blood kink, threesome, oral sex (m & f receiving), DUB CON, dom/sub dynamics, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (pls be safe), cum eating, girl on girl, spanking, slight mommy kink, slight ass worship (reader’s got a wagon), use of oil, face sitting, use of handcuffs, hair pulling, dirty talk, slight themes of misandry and misogyny, implied body shaming
Y/N’s POV
The smell of sex wafting through the air. That was the way I liked it. I craved an atmosphere of full debauchery and zero inhibitions. Club Succubus was my creation. Here…I did whatever the fuck I want. No rules, no worries, no bullshit. Hell, I even recognized some cops frequenting this place of sin.
I look over at the entrance recognizing the face of a man whom I’ve despised for so long. Carmine Falcone. The dirty bastard. He’s taken business deals from me for as long as I can remember. The crime world was dominated by men and no one took a woman getting her foot through the door seriously. Slowly but surely, I’ve found my footing in this city along with loyal members who help carry out my plans for Gotham. But him. He was always an obstacle that kept me from being fully feared by everyone. That will come to an end. There’s no place for a man like him in this city. I’d be doing everyone a favor getting rid of him.
I’ve flirted with him times before. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d dismissed me because I was a curvier girl. Yet, here he was in my nightclub specifically looking for me.
His eyes land on mine as I sat in VIP section. I smirk. He makes his way over to me, eyes intense with lust.
“Baby, you’re looking ravishing.” He says, breathlessly raking up and down your figure.
“Mr. Falcone,” You smiled before standing up from your purple, tufted throne chair. You sauntered down the short steps towards him. “You know, I wasn’t sure you’d come. After all, I was convinced that you were way too vanilla. Couldn’t handle a body like mine.” You ran your hand over his shirt and see his Adam’s Apple bobbing.
“It’s not like that, baby,” He bites his lip, hypnotized by your hands roaming his body. “Just…you intimidate me.”
“Why?” You pout, keeping up the innocent ploy.
“Well, I have all the things you want. Power, the fear of the people, loyal subjects at the palm of your hands. You must be mad at me, babe,” He grips your ass, pulling you closer to him. “Can’t help how good I am? The ladies love an alpha.”
“All those things are true. Especially the part about me being mad. I’m so mad, in fact,” You lean into his ear. “I’d like to punish you.”
Taking his hand, I led him to a private room in the back. I could practically taste the power pouring into me. I was soon going to be queen of Gotham.
When we arrived to the room, I immediately threw him onto the bed earning a surprised chuckle from the trashy douchebag.
“Whoa, honey, I make like it rough but I’m still fragile.” He says looking up at me. I pull out some handcuffs from the drawer nearby, swaying my hips side to side as I walked over to him. I grab his wrists, putting them above his head and locking them to them into place.
I shove a hand down his pocket. “I don’t have any cash on me if that’s what your looking for. Didn’t know this ‘business’ exchange required any compensation.” He smirks.
“No, babe, I’m looking for this,” I show him the magnum. “Gotta have protection, right?” I yank his pants and underwear down his ankles before rolling the condom over his unimpressively average length. I climb over him, sliding down on his length. “Besides, I’ll get all the compensation I need right here.” I whispered, darkly.
I began riding the crime lord, trying to keep myself from rollin my eyes at his insufferable moans. While his mind was occupied by the pleasure, I slowly pull out a dagger from my thigh holster. I knew it’d only be minutes until this was over. Taking my chance, I stab him in the chest as he reached his climax.
I lean over him. “I told you I’d get my compensation.”
His eyes were wide, coughing up blood as he began processing the image of the knife in his chest. “You won’t get away with this. Do you know who I am? I have connections. Fucking cops work under me. You’ll be on a lot of powerful people’s lists. You’ll be dead before you could even step out the door.”
“You’ve underestimated me, Mr. Falcone. Your men, the ones that you brought to protect you, they belong to me now. Those cops you have working for you, mine. Everything is mine now. The power, the fear, the people all mine!” I shout as I continued to stab him over and over. The blood gushing and spraying all over the bed and room. I laugh maniacally, finally reaching my climax from the high of finally winning.
When I’ve had my fill I looked down at my finished product, the crime lord looking barely recognizable. I hop off of him, walking over to the mirror. I smile at my reflection. My tight white dress and hair covered in blood. I resembled Carrie and I absolutely loved the look. This was the look of a new boss.
~~~~
Selina’s POV
“Authorities are saying that the body of Carmine Falcone was found his home on the evening of Saturday. His body was discovered by a dancer and lover who works at his nightclub. It is shocking to see a man like him go down so brutally to say the least but police are doing their best to search for the person or persons responsible. Until then—” Selina switches off the television set.
Her emotions were a mix bag. There was pity, sadness, joy, anger…it was all there. He was her biological father after all. Yet, he was a disgusting piece of shit that left her mother for dead. He was responsible for the death of her former lover, Annika. She wanted to be the one to kill him. Whoever did it stripped her from the right. She was going to find them and kill them. In her twisted form of justice, it would be an indirect way of getting back at her father.
She just needed to know who could have had the balls to carry it out?
~~~~
Bruce’s POV
*Inner monologue*
Y/L/N, Y/F/N. To those on the outside, you were just what they’d call a “girl boss”. An admirable woman with a business mindset. Every man’s dream. But I know women like you. You have a fiery spirit. In the wrong hands, however, that spirit can be deadly.
*end of monologue*
Bruce looked at your file name. You were the perfect match. In your younger days, You had time in and out of the criminal justice system for crimes against men specifically those in power. Now in your late 20s, they’d say you’d had a clean slate every since then. Bruce knew better. While law enforcement turned and looked away at certain things, Bruce took a magnifying glass inspecting the issues further. It’s what made him the best detective in all of Gotham. It’s what made the people believe in Batman.
Club Succubus. That’s the nightclub you owned. You couldn’t have gotten this powerful unless you had to stomp on a lot of toes including your biggest competitor. Bruce figured that instead of going as The Batman, he’d go as himself. That way he’d bait himself as your target. You went after men with money well here he was. Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire, powerful, influential. It was just what you were looking for as your next victim.
~~~
Y/N’s POV
Somehow being at the top just wasn’t enough, I wanted more. I wanted to be bigger. Sure, business was booming and I’ve been running the town sweeping it with fear. Sure, the people were beginning to know my name. But I wanted a challenge.
As if God heard my prayers, in walks Bruce fucking Wayne! Walking into my club?! I didn’t take him for a guy interested in scenes like this. By the look on his face, this was definitely something he’s not into. Maybe he was looking for someone who could teach him the ropes.
I haven’t done much research on the guy so I don’t exactly have him on the list of men I’d like to kill (i call it the MiLK list) but he’s got the money. Who knows if I rock his world enough, I could get him to invest some of his money into my club.
I make my move. I stalk towards him like a predator to its prey. His eyes were on mine and if i’d blinked I would’ve missed the millisecond of lust in them. I reach the man in all black. He was quite gorgeous up close. Electric blue eyes, pink lips, a jawline that was evidence of God’s favor of him. It was the first time anyone had taken my breath away. I quickly recover.
“You’re Bruce Wayne. You’re hardly ever in the public eye. What brings you to a place like this? Looking for some fun?” I tease.
“Business, actually.”
“Really?” I tried burying my excitement as much as I could. Didn’t want to look eager. However, this could be my huge break.
He nods. “Mind if we could go somewhere more quiet to discuss?”
“Y-yes,”I stuttered out, too excited for your mouth to speak. “Right this way.” Just I took him by the arm to lead, a woman in a tight red stops you in your tracks.
“Omg! Have we met before?” She flashes a pearly, white smile at you.
She was gorgeous, soft golden brown skin shimmered under the neon lights. Her lips were red and full. Her eyes carried a look that was sultry yet dangerous. “Not likely. I would’ve remembered a girl like you.”
“My name is Selina. Selina Kyle.” She looks between me and Bruce. “I’d hate to interrupt. I won’t keep you long but I would love if we could go somewhere quiet. Maybe we can catch up.”
I was currently between two very sexy people. This just might work in my favor.
“Sure, we can all go.” I lift my finger in a “come hither” motion. “Follow me.” I lead them down the pink lit hallways. The music and thumping gradually decreasing in sound.
When we’d finally arrived to the room, the moment I’d shut the door. Selina presses me up against it, a knife to my throat. “I know you sent your men after Carmine.”
I laugh. “I didn’t send anyone after Carmine. I killed him myself, sweetie.”
Selina looks at me in shock.
————
Bruce’s POV
Bruce had it all figured out. He’d go to the nightclub in Bruce Wayne persona, knowing you’d bite because you went after rich, powerful men. He’d gather the evidence he’d get from your private room opening the case for the DEA to finally care.
His plan now out the window the moment Selina stepped in. She hadn’t recognized him. Only knowing him as The Batman. Of course she’d do something as reckless as this.
“She really is stubborn.” Bruce thought, gritting his teeth.
Selina continues, the knife still pressed against your neck. “How’d you kill him?”
“I stabbed him a bunch of time with his shrimp dick still inside me. Then I made my men put his body back in his office like it was a regular Sunday. Couldn’t have him rotting in my club. For some big boss guy who fucks anything that moves, he sure sucks at fucking. Didn’t make me cum once. I had to handle myself all on my lonesome,” You say in a teasing, pouty voice. “I think maybe you can change that.”
She presses the blade deeper into the skin, on the verge of breaking skin. “Why’d you do it?”
“Selina, let’s put away the knife. You don’t have to do this.” Bruce speaks up, walking over to the catty women.
Selina ignores him, her eyes still staring intensely at you. You still bore a smirk on your face.
“What’s so fucking funny?” She hisses.
“Are you one of his whores or something? I did you a favor getting rid of him. He was a piece of shit and you know it.”
“I-I was…his daughter.” She fidgets nervously.
“Oh shit,” You scoffed. “You mean, that fucker was your dad. No wonder you want to kill me. You’re avenging father dearest.”
“That’s where your wrong, kitten,” You can feel your pussy begin to throb at the raspy, sensual way she said it. “I wanted to kill him, too. He killed someone I loved. I wanted to do it. I couldn’t. The time wasn’t right. Then, you come in and you take what could’ve been my peace. The only way I can get closure now is if I kill you.”
Selina cuts a small line on your neck. You let out a pained moan that sounded as if you enjoyed it. You can feel that the cut had drawn some blood.
“Selina, it’s not worth it. You’d just be getting yourself in trouble. Then what will this all be for. Avenging the ones you love doesn’t mean having to kill those who’ve wronged you.” Bruce pleads.
This frustrates Selina. She was tired of people telling her what to feel; to do. She turns on her heels pointing the knife in his direction. “I am tired of people—-men… telling me ‘no’. I don’t think I’d want to hear anything more from you.” She points the knife at you. “You! You’ve got handcuffs somewhere around here, don’t you? Get them and cuff him.”
You were about to head over to the draw when she pulls you by the end of your hair. “Actually, you show me what drawer to get them. Don’t want you trying to reach for your handgun of anything.” She winks before pushing away at your head.
“It’s in the first drawer near the bed.” You were honestly fearful for your life. You somehow even felt bad for Bruce who’d only been an innocent bystander.
Selina reaches for the handcuffs also finding the handgun you stored there. “Good thing I went for it myself.” She laughs. Throwing the cuffs for you to catch, she aims the handgun at you.
“Cuff him.”
“What are you doing?” Bruce growls, fuming at this insanity.
She turns the gun to him. “I said I don’t want to hear you.”
Bruce complies understanding he needs to in order to make sure no one gets hurt. He puts his hands out in the front of him.
“Oh no, baby, I want them cuffed to the back. Suit jacket and shirt off, by the way.” Selina demands.
He shakes his head, his jaw clenching before doing what was commanded of him. He pulls off his jacket and shirt revealing his washboard abs. You clipped the cuffs around his wrists. Despite your fear, you were quite turned on. You could feel your panties drench at the situation; Bruce’s half nakedness not helping your state.
“Sit him on that chair.” She flicks the gun over to the royal purple accent chair.
You lead him to his seat. He lowers, looking up between the women. A tent suddenly forming in his slacks.
Selina pushes down at the top of your head. “Down, kitty.”
You obey, falling to your knees in front of Bruce and both your eyes met one another’s.
“I’m sure you know what I want you to do. After all, you like you’ve gone through this plenty of times. So go on.”
“I-I d-dont know what you want.” You stutter out.
“Awww, what happened to the ruthless bitch that had no problem killing my dad? Figure it out. You’re not on your knees to polish his shoes.” She squats to your level, pressing the barrel against your temple.
Bruce looks at you apologetically, only to find that you were completely enjoying this. He’s now convinced that he’s in a room with crazy people.
You bring your hands shakily up to his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them. You lower them just enough for you to have access to him boxers. His breath hitches when he feels your fingertips against his bare skin. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on by all of this. He blames the women for his corruption. He must not be thinking clearly. All he had to do was focus and— his thoughts are interrupted when he feels your hands wrap around his painfully hard member. He bites his lip to keep himself from whimpering. He wasn’t very experienced in the sex department only having had 2 partners because he’s always so busy. Any form of touch was enough to have him panting.
“Look at that fat cock, kitten. He’s so hard,” Selina licks her lips. “Every inch of that will be going down your throat soon. Wanna see you gag on it like a pornstar. Give me a show.” She sits at the edge of the king-sized bed, looking at our direction.
You wouldn’t hesitate any longer. You wanted to taste him. To make him see stars. You make no haste, swirling your tongue around the tip and giving it a fervent suck.
Bruce lets out a shaky moan, his head thrown back against the chair. Selina immediately stands up, strutting over to him, taking him by the hair and forcing him to look down between his legs; at you.
“No. You watch. She’s gonna give a performance of a lifetime so have some decency.”
You smile up at her before turning your attention back to his. Never had you worship a cock the way you would to his. You bring your mouth all the way down his length, letting him hit the back of your throat.
He whines. You can see his restraint to keep quiet. To keep himself from enjoying. You were going to break him. You bob up and down on his length, the suction noises filling the room. You look at him noticing the way his eyes flicked between looking into your face and staring at the way your ample ass swayed side to side in delight.
“Look how happy you made, kitty,” Selina moans, dropping to her knees next to you and tossing the gun a close distance away from her. “I think I’ll have a taste, too.”
The moment Bruce heard that, he knew he’d be a goner. You pull your mouth away, a line of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his dick. Selina cups your face and plants an intimate kiss on your lips. Your tongues massaging each others as she attempts to taste him indirectly through you.
She breaks the kiss. “I think I wanna taste more.” She brings her mouth to his length and licks. You put your mouth back on him as well. Both of your tongues playing with the tip, every now and then your tongues would meet once again. You rubbed your thighs together, hoping to get some friction when you heard him finally begin to moan and tug at his restraints.
“Oh, he likes it,” Selina exclaims. “Don’t you, you little slut?”
He nods, breathing hard.
“It’s rude to nod. Tell us how much you appreciate us sucking your cock.”
“Thank you.” He says through a strained tone.
“For what?”
“For sucking my cock.”
“He’s such a good boy. Isn’t he, kitten?”
“Yes, he is. Maybe we could reward him.” You purr.
The two of you shoot each other a playful look before Selina bobbed her mouth on the thick, curved length while you licked and fondled at the balls. These women were trying to kill him. He was sure of it. Because how could any man survive this kind of bliss. It was all too much.
He’d forgot all restraint and soon he was moaning like a pathetic mess of a man. “Oh god. Please I c-can’t. Too much.”
There was no letting up. You’d both wanted to see him crumbles. His stoic presence soon a shadow of itself. You can feel his testicles begin to tighten. Selina’s mouth off him, jacking him off and staring at him determined. You also remove your mouth to look up at him, your hands rolling and squeezing his balls.
“F-fuck. M-mommy,” He whines pathetically. “Please.”
You and Selina look at each other and smiling deviously. “Ohhh, he’s looking for mommies. Someone missing their mommy? Don’t worry, Brucey. We’ll take real good care of you.” You say, sucking and running my tongue on his tip while Selina continue to jack his length. His body began to tense and you both knew you’d be rewarded with his cum soon.
“Cum for us, pretty boy. We wanna swallow it all for you.” Selina encourages. He lets out a loud drawn out groan, ropes of cum spurt from his dick. Selina and you indulge, licking frantically to make sure no a drop is missed. He shudders against you both, forced to take overload of pleasure. When you were sure you’d gotten everything, you both make your way up to kiss and bite at his neck. You’d taken the key for the handcuff finally freeing him. Bruce takes this opportunity to place a kiss on Selina’s lips then kissed yours, then you and Selina once again. Each deep kiss filled with lots of tongue and saliva.
Selina pulls down your lacy panties and you follow suit removing hers, groping each other’s breasts. The two of you straddle each of Bruce’s thigh, grinding your cores against his grey slacks. He grabs a handful your ass, the other hand pulling down Selina’s top, tweaking at her hardened peaks. All three of you moaning into the atmosphere. You rub two fingers on Selina’s clit as she rode his thigh.
“Oh, fuck right there.” She moans, grinding faster against him. You could tell that his pants would be soak in your arousals but he didn’t seem to care. He just watch intently, moaning at the sight of two beautiful women who were getting off to his thigh alone. You thanked the fact that Bruce’s thigh had been strong enough to carry your weight especially with how forceful your thrusts were. It seemed like he had a thing for thicker girl making sure his hands would feel every part of you.
Selina stops her movements, standing up from his thigh. Both you and Bruce looking at her. “I’m thinking we should move this to the bed. I wanna try some things,” She points at the mattress in front of her. “Y/N, I want you on all fours. Brucey, you’re going to fuck her nice and hard for me. Be as brutal as you like for all I care.”
You obey. It didn’t matter to you that you’d probably be killed or in jail after this. You were going to get what you’ve been craving the moment you’d set eyes on these two. You remove whatever’s left of your clothes before crawling on your hands and knees on the bed.
You bend over enough so that your ass in the air was the main focal point. Selina takes a bottle of oil, lathering your bottom and give you a hard smack. You moan at the contact.
Bruce removes his clothes, on his knees behind you his hard length dangling between thighs like a third leg. “I don’t know if I could do this.” He says, almost innocently.
“All ya gotta do is stick your dick in her. Not rocket science, baby.” She teases, yanking her dress over her head and joining you both on the bed.
He sighs. “No, I mean, this isn’t right. She’s a criminal. We’ve got to turn her in.”
Selina attempts to speak up again, but it was your turn to make your case. You were not going anywhere. Not until you’re ruined by them. “Please fuck me, Brucey,” You groan. You roll your hips back, feeling his dick rubbing between your ass cheeks. “I know I’m bad but all I ask is that you punish me. Take me how you want me. Wreck me from inside with your cock.”
Selina smirks, glancing at Bruce who’s breathing had gotten heavy. “Hear that, sweet boy. She wants it real bad. You can’t be cruel enough to leave her hangin’.”
His large hands pull you rough against him. You squeak at his sudden ferocity, a pool of wetness seeping out of your core. He smacks the heavy manhood against your globes, guiding it to your quiver core. You’d still been sensitive there so when he taps himself at your entrance, you shiver in delight. He prods his tip at the tight hole, letting your folds swallow him in with little effort from him. You both groan simultaneously.
“Fuck, that’s so hot.” Selina rubs herself, watching where the two of you met.
Bruce strokes shallowly into your pussy. The light sticky, wet noises filling the silence. You whine needing him to fuck you long and deep. You attempt to fuck back into him, he holds you still by your hips, pulling even more of his length out of you so that only the tip rests.
“Shit, please, I need it.” You sob. You’re practically crying real tears.
Selina pulls his cock from your core. Wrapping her plump lips around the bulbous head. She sucks him deep into her mouth, swishing her tongue around. “She tastes so good,” She pulls off him, easing him back into your cunt. Going behind him, she whispers in his ear. “Go on, baby boy. Fuck her. Make her cum hard.”
As if he’s a robot waiting on the commands of his master, he immediately drive into you. He bottoms out and you swear that he’s made a mess of your guts. He pummels into you, fucking you into the mattress. Your cries bouncing off the walls.
“Fuck, fuck, holy shit.” You were unintelligible. All you could do is curse or say things that you really couldn’t understand. Bruce ramming into you the way a beast ruts into its mate.
Selina could feel herself dripping with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to take his cock next but first she’s like to focus her attention all on you. Bringing your face up from the mattress, your tongues meet in a passionate kiss. Bruce takes your arms crossing them behind your back, pinning them down with one hand. Now your body’s sandwiched between Bruce powerfully thrusting into you and Selina who’d kiss you in a way that made your toes curled.
She snakes a hand down to rub your sensitive nub. You gasp, grinding into her hand. When you moved forward, you’d feel her aggressively flicking at it and when you’d moved back, his cock would nudge the deepest parts of you. It was an overload of pleasure you’d never experienced.
“Fuck me now,” Selina says, lying on her back. Bruce pulls out of you, using your juices to slide in with ease into her. She moans, licking her lips. “Oh my god, baby. You’re so big. You’re splitting me in two. I can see why my little kitten over there was screaming for her life.”
Bruce leverages himself up with his hands, angling his hips the right way to hit into her core from the side. She throws her head back and bites her lip feeling the thrusts getting more desperate. You squeezed your thighs together, wanting to get rid of the ache. She opens her eyes and notices. “Aww, kitten, I didn’t forget about you. Come here and ride my face.”
Your eyes light up. You hover your slick coated core over her face turned so that you were in the 69 position and facing Bruce. Selina gets to work, licking and sucking at your pussy the way she did when she kissed you. You ground against her face, looking at Bruce with half-lidded eyes. You grip him by the neck and he groans. You pull him forward for a kiss, mimicking the movements of Selina’s tongue but in his mouth. His thrusts causing you to bounce along with them.
He plucks at your hardened nipple then lowers his lips to them sucking and twisting each bud. Both of their tongues caressing your body. You felt so lucky. Maybe Selina has already killed you and you’d gone to heaven. Or a fun ass hell.
“Lick that sweet pussy.” Bruce growls.
He pushes your head down so that you were in between Selina’s legs watching his cock moving in and out of it. Her juices messy all over his cock and her inner thighs. You stick your tongue out, flicking between her clit and tasting his length sloshing around inside her.
“Oh, fuck! You both are so fucking good. So perfect.” Selina cries out, sticking a finger in you and pumping. You fuck back into her fingers. With one hand still on the back of your head, the other smacks your ass.
The room filled with each other your moans and whines. You were sure anyone who’d accidentally walk in would blush but most likely stay for the show. It was sinful, filthy, it was so fucking hot!
“I’m gonna cum.” Bruce groans.
“Me too.” Selina moans, curling her finger and touching the soft button deep in you.
“Oh my god.” You can feel the coil building up more and more. The pressure almost scaring you at how much it was building. Bruce pulls out of Selina shoving himself into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down. You swallow and suck around him. The same time he cums down your throat is the same time Selina decides to give you the hardest orgasm of your fucking life. You scream into the air, frantically rubbing at her flowery bud.
She quakes and shivers underneath you. You lick at her core until she eventually clamps her thighs around your head from other stimulation. “Holy shit.” She laughs, her head feeling light from the shattering of her world.
You roll off of her and the three of you laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. You can taste the remnants of them on your tongue; a reminder of your time with them.
You propped yourself up on your elbows. “So I’m guessing you’ll be turning me in to the authorities. It’s fine, though. I got all I needed anyway.”
“No, I think I’ll keep you, kitten. You’ll be my little play toy. What do ya think, Brucey? Should we keep her?” She bats her eyes at the blissed out man.
He groans. “Is that really appropriate?”
“Yes.” Selina smiles at you and you smile back.
You turn over to the brooding sex symbol. “I can make it worth your while, Brucey,” You kiss and suck at his neck. “I promise you I won’t be bad. I’ll be so good for you.”
Selina joins in, attacking at the other side of his neck. Bruce isn’t sure if he believes either of the women, but with their hands running ever so softly over his body, he can’t say he wouldn’t try.
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stargirlfics · 1 year
Text
IRON
got a request awhile back for Battinson + pussy eating and l couldn’t resist!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, size/strength kink, slight exhibitionism, reader is a bit of a brat! smut: oral (reader receiving), manual restraints, praise kink, body worship, mask kink
Word Count: 2.5k
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One could hardly say it was your fault. 
Bruce had left you here, in the Tower, all by your lonesome. You couldn’t be to blame, it was simple as that.
Though you didn’t protest his departure (you knew how important his work for the city was, how he’d answer that beacon shining high in Gotham’s stormy skies whenever it appeared) you also couldn’t help but sulk and pout about missing him. 
He could be out there all night and as selfish and indulgent as it was, you had plans, ones that involved as minimal amount of clothing as possible and his lips on yours, these desires being something you had started to tell him when it became clear he was needed in the city tonight instead. 
You could only hope the slight pinching grip of his hands on your waist as he left you with a tender kiss to your cheek meant he wouldn’t forget about your needs. 
It was raining now, just a little under a steady downpour and time seemed to move entirely too slow, barely an hour having passed with your next glance at the large grandfather clock in the foyer.  
Huffing a sigh, you wandered over to the bookshelves lining the alcoves in Wayne Tower’s main room, browsing amongst a few of your favorite novels that had found a new home here before you were pulling one off the shelf and snagging an old throw blanket, heading downstairs to Bruce’s hidden workspace to curl up in your usual spot and wait for his return. 
Funny, how casual this felt, like it was any other weekend night but most people in Gotham weren’t waiting up for the vigilante they called a lover to come home were they? And yet it was exactly where you wanted to be. 
For better or worse you were tied to Bruce and therefore tied to The Batman, swiftly coming to fall for both, to want both and all of who Bruce is, even when he made you worry. 
He promised both you and Alfred that he’d be careful and did every time he went out but he knew you would worry anyways, neither of you asking the other to change, loving each other too much to ask of it. 
Somehow you fashioned another fitting piece to the ever shifting puzzle that was Bruce Wayne and you weren’t going to trade it for the world.
The descent below ground brought a change in temperature, cool chilly air sweeping across your skin once you stepped onto the expanse of the abandoned terminus.
But the familiarity of it and the blanket draped over your shoulders was doing a fine job at keeping you warm, and the sleeping bats hanging above you were a fond presence with how much time you spent down here now. 
You were right at home.
Curled up on the sofa tucked into one of the spare corners in the workspace you chewed at the nail of your thumb, finding that the novel you’d chosen wasn’t helping your antsy, increasingly needy mood. 
The novel bordered on erotic and it made you squirm, heat creeping up from your chest to settle in your cheeks, your thighs pressing together without thought.
Mind wandering, dreaming of a steamy kiss, of being scooped up by him and made to feel good, the ache in your core finally being sated. 
You kept reading into the midnight hour, eventually unable to stop thinking of the details, his towering form, large, strong, and sure hands that gripped and held you so sweetly, so tightly, and how good it felt to be taken apart by him too. 
Bruce was unassuming like that, shy and reserved, awkward even, until he wasn’t, making it a point to discover all the ways he could fluster you, make you whine, and beg for him again and again. 
He was good at it too, had gotten especially skilled with that smart and stubborn mouth of his, and tonight, that’s what you wanted most. 
Wanted to grind yourself against his lips, his tongue, your clit bumping against his nose until your brain went quiet and all you could feel was the pulsing of the pleasure he loved giving you.  
Distracted by your fantasies you almost missed the soft whirring of the terminus gate opening, the book dropping closed in your lap when you realized he was back. 
It was late in the night now, it had been hours but you never felt more energized, letting the blanket pool around your middle as you watched the sleek black muscle car roll in, streaked with rain, the rumble from its engine reverberating against your chest in thrilling comfort. 
You stood up then, stretching out your limbs, a sly smirk threatening to stay on your lips as you watched Bruce step out of the car, his inky black cape draped around him, cowl shiny with moisture, and oh those eyes, shrouded in painted on shadows, his gaze finding yours immediately. 
“Thought you might be in bed by now,” his voice gruff but gentle as he spoke to you, a tone reserved especially for you.
“I considered it but thought waiting up for you here would be a lot better,” an innocent sigh left your lips while you busied yourself with folding the blanket, turning your back towards him, putting a nice little tilt and bend to your hips when you leaned over. 
The heavy footfall of his boots coming closer sent another thrill running up your spine, “Indeed it is, missed me that much, hm?”
Bruce was indulging your antics, always one to entertain your moods, your fantasies, wired on the adrenaline of his late night work in the streets, it made for such a potent mixture and you were delighted. 
“Mhm, cause someone’s skills were needed elsewhere, I had to make due all by myself,” you feigned a pout, trying to hide your smile when you spotted the briefest widening of his eyes at your words. 
He took another step towards you but you skirted away, dodging his hulking figure, the plated armor of his Bat suit still a little intimidating to you, your core clenching around nothing at the thought of being handled by those hands clad in Batman’s gloves, to feel his strength, the brute force in his biceps and forearms, pinning you down to do what he pleased with you. 
It’s all you could think about. 
Maybe it was the heightened level of your desire that made you feel a little bolder tonight, more eager to tease, to get under his ever-so-stoic skin, because you were making your way over to the car now, your hand trailing over its frame, walking, swaying almost till you were standing at the hood of the car, facing Bruce again who’s eyes were fixated on you. 
No words needed to be said as you smiled sweetly, your hands falling to your sides, tracing the edges of the satin slip dress hugging your body, fingers slipping under the hem, dragging it up your thighs a little. 
Chest tightening at his steady, measured steps toward you, one of your hands coming down to swipe over your inner thighs, touching yourself before he could reach you all the way, a giggle slipping out when you heard him grumble in frustration. 
It wasn’t often that you leaned into your brattier tendencies, but tonight, you were in that kind of mood, something sparking low in your tummy seeing him in the cowl, the suit making him appear bigger, taller, and underneath that you knew he had the strength to carry all that gear, to move and fight in it and it made you feel so much smaller in comparison, finding a thrill in pushing buttons. 
“Move your hand, baby.” his command came gently, a warning in itself of sorts, telling you he was going easy on you, giving you a chance to behave. 
Any other night you would have yielded, knowing just how good he could give it to you when you listened to him, but tonight you wanted the less inhibited side of him so instead, you kept your hand between your thighs, fingers finding slick skin with ease. 
“You have to wait your turn, sir,” you flicked your eyes up towards his playfully, heart jumping into your throat at his expression, the tick of his jaw. 
Bruce was pressed against you now, hands moving up to cage you against his chest, your breaths heavier, already losing the battle. 
It was so easy for him to break your tough girl act, knowing full well you were just as desperate as he was, knowing your weak spots and using them to his advantage.
Like now, for instance, using your distracted state to catch you off guard, his hands finding your waist and lifting, placing you up onto the warm, wet hood of his car, a delighted squeak filling the air as he lay you back. 
You were dough in his hands, shaped by the roll and press of his fingers, the weight of them making you whine as he pushed your legs apart, all but growling at your lack of underwear. 
The sight of him settling between your thighs, his body over yours filling your entire field of vision unlocked something for you, your heart beating wildly at the feeling of the suit again your skin, cool droplets of water landing on from the ears of his cowl as he lowered his head to your ribs. 
His lips were warm as they kissed down your torso, his hands keeping your thighs spread out for him, open so his mouth had a clear path to travel down, your breath hitching the lower his mouth went. 
A needy whine slipped out when he stalled, just hovering over where you wanted him most, his huff of laughter making you squirm from sensitivity. 
“Look who can’t wait their turn now…you’re lucky I’m in a generous mood.” Bruce chuckled lowly, catching you by surprise and making you ache for more. 
“Please-oh!” you weren’t too proud to beg, his mouth finally touching down on puffy folds.
The move turned your plea into a moan, hands jerking, slipping on the rain droplets now soaking your dress, grasping anything for purchase as your hips rocked with his movements. 
Curses and half stifled moans filled the air as he buried his face into your heat, his tongue lapping and swirling around your clit, moving further down to taste you properly. 
Your muscles ache from the strain of flexing against him, your body chasing the sensations he was giving you, the building pressure in your abdomen, the way he groans against your pussy, drinking you down, it all made your brain hazy in the best way. 
“Taste so fucking good…fuck.” the words left his lips with ease, finding them easier to come by when he was under the suit, when he was most himself. 
Trembling hands of yours creep down to grasp at his own hands still keeping your thighs held apart wide, and then move down, timidly tugging his head closer, crying out at the change in pressure, all your nerves tingling. 
Something about only being able to catch glimpses of his eyes, the sharp edge of his jawline as he ate you out, and the rest covered by the mask made you open up for him further, your desires reaching no end. 
Your hands pushed at his arms until he caught your wrists, holding them back with one hand, pinning them to your tummy, leaving you panting, unable to help but grind yourself against the patterned flick and swirl of his tongue. 
The added thrill of being so exposed, though this was a private space, how open it seemed, made you feel on display, another wave of heat flooding your body. 
Goosebumps travel down your arms as the cool brush of his free hand caresses your frame, grabbing dewy flesh, feeling your breasts, your waist underneath his grip, loving how you molded to his touch, how perfect you were in his arms. 
He could spend all night like this, making you feel good, pulling those high pitched whines and gasps from your throat, making your thighs tremble like they were doing now. It’s all he could think of, all he could do. 
“Please, please, keep going, yes!” more whimpers fall prettily, your body turning soft and pliant under the sweet pressure of his lips, the way his tongue sweetly nudges inside you, licking your essence, building you up higher and higher. 
Every now and then he’ll slow it down, teasing you just a little for his own self indulgent reasons before heeding your heady whimpers for more, building you back up again, enjoying the way you seemed to drip from his tongue, how he could make such a mess of you. 
He knows you’re close, can tell by the way you flutter around his tongue, can feel the frenzied aching in your limbs as it begins to happen. 
“Come on, let go. Now. Let me feel you,” the assertion in his tone left no room to argue, the gruff, grit out encouragement giving you the final push you needed.
Your orgasm reaches you quickly as his tongue returns to your clit, dragging out the sensations, making you shake even more, almost exhausted by the force of it. 
What a sight this must be, being spread out so sinfully and all for him, something Bruce intended to savor, the fact that you were all his, that rough exterior shedding a little more easily now that he knew he’d given you what you needed. 
His lips were still leaving kisses on your throbbing clit and sensitive inner thighs, staying close, bright eyes peering into yours, wanting the close contact to go on a little longer. 
That was just fine by you, he could have whatever he wanted with the way he just made you feel, and still, amusement twinkling for just a moment in his eyes at seeing you struggle to catch your breath. 
Pushed up onto your elbows now you peer down, cheeks burning again at seeing just how messy you’d become, rain and your arousal damp on your inner thighs, shining around Bruce’s lips and chin.
“God…that was so good, thank you, baby,” your praise and gratitude were soft spoken, holding all the usual affection you had for him, none of your earlier antics remaining. 
You watched him smirk at your content sighs, pulling the cowl off with ease, a practiced move that was second nature now. 
It wasn’t fair that he could look so handsome, rain soaked and hair disheveled, black paint still smudged around his eyes too but it was a look that fit him well and had much too strong an effect on you, feeling the muscles of your thighs jump once more. 
“Anytime. I’m always ready to straighten out that attitude for you, beautiful. Just say the word.” 
Maybe it was the unmistakable glint in his eye or the way he spoke to you then that had you laying back against the car again, trying to hold back whimpers and giggles when he followed close after you, wanting, no needing another taste, needing to see you fall apart again. 
“Think you can be a good girl and keep those legs open for me?” 
“Mhm, just don’t want you to stop, please.” 
“Never…have to make up for all those hours I was gone, right.” 
You shared his sly little smile and lay back for him once more, the searing kisses unleashed upon your still tingling skin dragging you back under, right where you wanted to be, under the skillful fangs of The Bat himself.
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A/N: Well it had to be done! Cause I can’t be told otherwise, Rob’s Batman eats it like a starved man and I will stand by that! Period! Lol thank you for reading this fun little fic, lemme know what you think! Any and all thirsty comments welcome! 🖤
some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @littlekidsteve @eupheme @saradika @allaboardthereadingrailroad @yelenas-lova @tarrenterror25 @moreofem @squidlywiddly87
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dreamtinblackandwhite · 2 months
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give & take
summary: bruce wayne x female!reader learning what their partner likes during sex
word count: 832
warnings: NSFW, SMUT, mentions of fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, overstimulated, praise kink, degradation kink, face fucking, i think that's it?
an: let me know what you think of this one! it's not much but i wanted to get it out of my brain :)
bruce is such a giver.
he was so touch deprived when you first starting seeing each other that he just wants to shower you in appreciation for giving this back to him.
every night before he heads out to patrol, he’d burry his face between your thighs and greedily fingerfucks you until you’re seeing stars
every time the two of you are required to go to a public event, he’d make sure to find a secluded room where he would get on his knees for you after seeing you in that dress
if your response after he asks how your day was is anything less than ‘great, love, yours?’ he’d tug you off towards his bed and spend hours kissing every single inch of your body
praising you because he knows how much you love it:
‘such a good girl’, ‘you are so gorgeous squeezing around my fingers’, ‘you are doing so good, darling’, ‘you can cum again, I know you can.’, ‘be a good girl and moan my name while I tease this perfect clit, beautiful.’
this man would worship the ground you walk on and is utterly obsessed with every part of you
there were signs of him wanting more though. the way his eyes would widen and he'd blush so cutely after you told him it was okay to be rough with you. you'd tell him every night how you want to shower him with the same affection he gives you. but he’d ignore you to burry his face into your dripping cunt again whimpering and whining about how much he loves you.
you could see him fall into the blissful high of your warm folds wrapping around his cock so perfectly and he slowly would lose his composure. fucking you as if he didn't know you, plowing into you like his access to oxygen depended on it. his rough strokes against your sensitive core seemed to speak how much he loved using you - you just needed to drag that out of him.
you waited in the batcave for him on a stormy night that you couldn’t sleep. ‘what are you doing awake, darling?’ He’d ask as he slipped his cowl off with a concerned tone to his voice. you didn't need to say anything. just walk up to him and slowly peel layer by layer of his suit off, dragging your finger tips across each muscle, bruise, fresh cut, or healed scar as you exposed his skin.
‘you could have waited in bed if you wanted me,’ reaching for you, wanting to see more of your skin than what you were offering. you’d stop his hands before they could touch you, using them as anchorage as you floated to the floor on your knees. never breaking eye contact.
he’d already be hard, even innocent touches from you were enough to spark that reaction. but there was something about seeing how well you were swallowing him down, drooling and gagging around him with no care in the world...
there was no denying that bruce craved control. that’s part of the reason he goes out, he wants to control the crime of Gotham.
but this was different. you were strong, independent, you didn’t need bruce, you had all the control in your own life. but here you were, on your knees for him. His. His beautiful and perfect equal.
you saw the shift in his eyes when he accepted how much he loved this. his fingers tangling in your hair as a low groan rumbled from his chest. ‘good fucking girl,’ his eye bored into yours, drinking up the sight of you degrading yourself for him as tears formed in the corner of your eyes. ‘you’re prettiest when you’re messy like this for me.' he's never respect you more - you had so much power but you set it aside for him. this was his bliss.
and that’s when you both found the perfect blend of kinks. he felt the whimper he fucked into your throat and saw the familiar glint in your eye as you desperately rolled your hips forward. ‘you like this, don’t you? love being my secret little cocksucker, fully knowing you’ll turn around tomorrow and command respect.’ you’d nod your head, still working your mouth feverishly around his cock.
‘i love it too, baby,’ a moan would escape him that belonged in a porno as he twitched in your throat, fucking his hips into your face. his head would fall backwards at the disgustingly lewd sounds coming from your perfect lips only making his grip on your head tighten and his pace rougher. ‘take my cock like a good slut. y’ve such a good throat for me.’
after you swallowed his sticky load, he’d all but fall to his knees in front of you and hug you close, whispering little thank yous as he kissed your hair. ‘you were right,’ he’d finally say before kissing you hungrily and starting his favorite task of forcing you to cum until you’re overstimulated.
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sideeve · 10 months
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⋆୨୧ he’s at your window
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→ ⋆୨୧ ; bruce wayne , the playboy multimillionaire , was still smitten over you
→ 🩰 ; ex-boyfriend!bruce , bruce masturbates while watching the reader get naked , stalker!bruce , i don’t know what this is , reader’s skin tone . hair type/color . or looks are not described
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“master bruce! you’ve been replaying the same clip the whole day, just go see her already.” alfred scolds bruce. he was right. and it’s been happening longer than a day. maybe even longer than a week. he still missed you.
“you know she doesn’t want to see me anymore, alfred.” he replays the video again.
it was a clip of you and bruce dancing together at a met gala. you had given him your biggest and prettiest smile ever. he had his special contacts in at the time, recording every single second.
if only he could relive that moment. just one more time. “the more you watch it, the worse your obsession will get.” alfred turns off the screen. “go see her.”
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bruce watched you from a roof of a building across from yours, watching your every move. he felt a tent in his pants grew higher as he watched you drop your robe from your body.
“fuck.”
you poured the lotion on your hand and rubbing them together, massaging your breasts. bruce’s hand flies to his crotch, palming himself.
your hands glide down your body, stopping at your inner thighs. he unbuttoned his pants, pulling them and his boxers down to his ankles.
he could see the headlines already.
‘ bruce wayne relieving himself while stalking a woman. ’
‘ is bruce wayne a creep? ’
he really didn’t care who saw him right now.
he needed to relieve some tension.
he wrapped his hand around his shaft, slowly stroking himself. he wanted to tease himself. wanted to see how long he could last while watching you.
at one point, he almost finished. you had bent over to apply the lotion on your legs, your cunt saying hello to him. you knew what you were doing, he thought. he grunts as his hand moved faster.
if only his hand was yours.
“fuck.” white strings spew from his pink sensitive tip, covering his hand. his eye rolled back as he finally gave into his release. he “cleaned” himself off, quickly pulling his pants up in embarrassment.
did he really just do that?
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divider by ;; @v6que
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
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say yes
kinktober, day twenty-one
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a/n: ...i personally wouldn't mind becoming mrs. wayne.......
warnings: bruce wayne (pattinson) x fiancé!reader, smut, established relationship, possessiveness, oral, cock worship, dirty talk
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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With the newly ring adorned hand softly wrapped around your fiancé’s girth, tender gaze locked on his, you littered his throbbing length with sweet, sloppy kisses.
Pecks fluttering down towards the base, you dipped further down and drooled over his heavy sack. Mouth gently agape as he watched you in awe, one of his hands then drifted it way down to yours, dreamily brushing his fingertip over the jewel. 
“Say it again,” he breathed as your lips teased their way back up to the dewy head, “say yes,” staring at you as if you were a deity at his feet, “tell me that you’re all mine.”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Friends with Benefits with Bruce Wayne
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, one-night stand, hickies, creampie, slight angst, friends with benefits, stress release, mutual pining
A/N: I'm writing a Jason fic yesterday and I was struck with Battinson inspiration. Take it.
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Just one night of sex, that was all it was supposed to be with Bruce. He was stressed and you could see it was eating him up, making him sloppy, you wanted to help him release some of that stress. Just one time. Turned into two, then three, and... who knows what time this was.
"H-Hey, Bruce! Ah! Slow down!" He wasn't, Bruce just grunted, getting closer to you as he locked his arms around you as best he could from behind. Another warm spurt of cum flooded your insides, making your body shake and give up on you, going limp in his arms. "Too... too much." You mumbled into the pillow you were gripping with your remaining strength.
"Was it?" His smugness was evident in his voice, and his smile as he nuzzled against the marked skin of your back. A kiss here, a lick there, a little bite on your neck, an imprint of his hands on your hips and thighs, and neck.
You exhaled a shaky breath when he pulled out a bit, not all the way just yet, it felt too good having his cock inside you and he knew it, "Bruce, this is the tenth night you visited me. I need to rest." Part of you didn't want to have rest, part of you wanted to keep him here longer, but another part of you thought it was selfish. Bruce didn't belong to you, Batman didn't belong to you, his heart didn't belong to you, it all belonged to Gotham. The only thing that did belong to you was his cock for a couple of hours a night, when he felt high from adrenaline and stress.
Your pussy clenched around his tip, getting a few more drops of cum from his balls. His limp cock rubbed against your thighs, smearing them with his release and yours, "Thank you." You knew that meant. It meant he wasn't staying tonight. If he was he wouldn't say a word to you, he'd just pull you against him and fall asleep. Those were better nights. "Do you want me to..." His fingers passed through your pussy folds, circling your opening.
Despite your twitch you knew that keeping him here would only hurt more, "You have a city to go back to Bruce. I'll be here when you need me." There was a hint of dejectedness seeping into your voice that you desperately tried to avoid.
Without another word he nodded and started putting his suit back on, slowly, like he was waiting for something that never happened.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Same time." He was already one leg out the window when he paused to look back at you, "Or, I could take you out for drinks first, if you prefer." Not even giving you a chance to reply he blended back into the night, the only evidence he was here being the mess between your legs and on your bed.
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anitalenia · 12 days
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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. ₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ✧˚ ༘
— 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖘 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ 𝘥𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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˚☽˚。⋆ 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑. The silence was too loud and his room was too cold — his arms and torso were left bare to freeze thanks to you (he was too much of a gentleman to snatch the blanket off you anyway). The heavy rain smacked into his windows pointedly and purposefully; with every loud drop it made his lip twitch in annoyance.
The air was sharp and frosted, it burned his nose when he breathed in too deeply and it made him wonder if Alfred forgot to turn the heat on — better yet if you turned it off, knowing you hated to fall asleep too warm and Alfred was too meticulous and thorough to forget to turn it off at all.
It was dingy and dismal, dark and dreary just as Bruce preferred it to be, so little going on for him to be so awake and agitated but yet… maybe that was just it. The silence, the boredom, the macabre sense of monotony on an unfamiliarly quiet Saturday night — so little going on it was driving him mad.
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Bruce stared up at the ceiling with his arms laid out on his shirtless stomach, restless but tired. His limbs were sore and heavy, his body bruised and battered, yet his dark eyes couldn’t help but flicker over to his window ever so often when he thought about what was on the other side of it — the source of his calamity.
He’d stare through the droplets of water at the blurred kaleidoscope of lights as they shone onto his floor, not eagerly per say just habitually; Bruce seldom ever saw a peaceful night in, so unaccustomed with the sweet domesticity of crawling under the covers at 10:30 pm and kissing your lover goodnight — he was usually so busy, for Gotham never slept and crime never seemed to stop.
No, Bruce couldn’t sleep; his thoughts a morbid mess of batman-esque obligation that made it impossible to close his eyes.
You were a different matter entirely as Bruce turned his head to look at you; snuggled up on your side of the large bed with his thick, black comforter surrounding you, breathing gently on the muscle of his shoulder and sleeping soundly, beautifully.
His pretty little wife.
His eyes looked over the sharp shadows of your sleeping beauty. From your wispy eyelashes, to your cute little nose, to your softly parted lips, a soft smile adorning the corner of his mouth as he did — he couldn’t help it.
Your hair was frizzy and tangled messily around your head, your soft breaths ever so often stuttered with an adorable snore but Bruce couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked anyway as he raked his eyes over your face fondly.
As he did he realized how grateful he was that you didn’t need to worry yourself with the things that he did; you were too innocent for the cruelty of Gotham City, too pure and divine; an angel wrapped in wicked tapestry.
Even now, in your pale white pajamas on black silken sheets you looked too fragile for them, like they could wrap their shadowy arms around you and swallow you whole — just as the city could so easily do if he wasn’t there to protect you.
If Batman wasn’t there to save you.
I don’t care, Bruce. I love you anyway.
That’s what you’d always say when Bruce would settle down in bed beside you with a heavy sigh and whisper why do you stay?, on those long nights when he’d come home brutally battered and fatigued. After a night of being heavily reminded to the real dangers waiting just outside his door like a pack of feral dogs and how easily they could ensnare you in their jaws.
I don’t care. I love you.
He loved you too, he really very did.
With that final thought, Bruce was still caught staring at you with a soft look of love on his face when you gently fluttered your eyes open, your body sensing his awareness before your mind could.
He watched patiently as you groggily looked around before eventually meeting his gaze, his eyes getting even softer at the adorable look of confusion on your face.
Your eyes tiredly looked back up at him despite the darkness surrounding you two, able to see his frowned lips and dark eyes clearly, “Bruce? Why are you still awake?”
Your voice was raspy and tired, a small yawn following your statement that made pity tear at his heart for waking you up.
Bruce ran his hazel eyes over your face some more before he responded, unable to stop cherishing you.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He simply responded, voice low and intimate, words spoken in the bare space between his lips and yours.
You settled into your silken pillow with a small huff, eyes focused more on Bruce’s face now as the grogginess gradually melted away and your vision became clearer — the silence and rain thrumming calmly around you. It wasn’t a normal night in Gotham City without the rain.
“Well, did you try?” You teased just as quietly as he, smiling a little at the chuckle he gave you in response.
“Yes, of course I tried. It clearly didn’t go as planned.” Bruce mumbled back with a faint snicker, speaking just loud enough so you can hear him over the rain pattering on the windows, a small smile now quirked on his sharp lips.
You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes looking between his, knowing Bruce well enough to know when he was lying.
“I don’t really believe you. What’s keeping you awake?” You sighed with furrowed brows, resting your head right next to his bare shoulder to look up at him better — maybe if you pouted in that cute way he liked he’d tell you honestly.
Bruce faltered at that, looking down at you with a heavy heart; he couldn’t possibly tell you that he felt guilty laying in bed with you when he should’ve been out there, out there protecting those who needed him. But the fact of the matter, one he couldn’t argue with, was that you needed him as well.
He couldn’t possibly tell you how conflicted he really was but probably shouldn’t have been; two parts of him sharing the same mind and body but each with entirely different obligations — the irreconcilable duality that was he.
One part of him was Bruce Wayne; millionaire, orphan, husband, you needed that side of him, you deserved to have him for at least one night. But he was also Batman, and Gotham always needed him.
He was haunted with a classic case of Jekyll and Hyde but instead of one side lusting for murderous intent his alter ego longed for rightful justice in the grandest city of injustice. Batman was the only one who could live harmoniously in the dark, the only one capable of doing the things he did. It was an enervative dichotomous life of matrimonial duties and moral obligation.
There were two men sharing the same halves of the same soul and Bruce couldn’t decide which heart to listen to without making the other one feel guilty.
“Just work stuff, honey. It’s nothing you need to worry about, trust me.” Bruce dismissed after a short moment, shaking his head gently with a reassuring smile on his thin lips — like that could convince you of anything.
You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, registering the slight blue bags under his eyes and the crippled fault in his smile, all small clues of his devious, well-intentioned deception.
“Which work stuff?” You prodded carefully, raising a brow at him as suspicions already began to brew in the back of your mind as to what he was really referring.
Bruce chuckled again at that, loving your caring and inquisitive nature any day but wishing you’d just drop it already. He really couldn’t bear weighing any of the pressure he carried on your delicate shoulders, fearing you’d crumble under the weight of it.
“Really, it’s…” Bruce looked back up at the ceiling in indecision, searching for the right words, “it’s nothing I can’t handle, okay?” He looked back down at you with confidence, his voice firmer than before but still softly spoken to get his point across.
You narrowed your eyes at him with that, knowing it was a response you fully expected but were still annoyed to hear.
You were aware that he was lying to you but also aware that he wouldn’t tell you no matter how much you begged him; he never liked to tell you anything about his Batman related problems and it greatly frustrated you for some reason.
As his wife didn’t you deserve to know at least something? You were fully aware of what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to his long awaited proposal. After all, you didn’t just marry Bruce Wayne but you married Batman as well… you could handle the truth even if he didn’t seem to think so.
You sighed anyway, unable to mask your irritation towards him for keeping you in the dark. Your lack of sleep didn’t help the influx of annoyance either.
You took your head off his warm shoulder and went to turn around away from him, your fatigue easily irritating you more than usual.
Bruce licked his lips and sighed, having already disappointed you in an attempt to protect you; a small price to pay if it meant your pretty little head wasn’t clogged with constant, pained disquietude like his was.
“Fine, don’t tell me.” You muttered more to yourself than anything, fussing with the blanket you had wrapped yourself in during your slumber and now seemed to be stuck in.
Before you could fully turn around though Bruce laid a warm, consoling hand on your forearm that made you pause, “Hey, hey, wait.”
You lingered a moment at the feel of it before turning back around to face him, expression a little more sour than before — tired and impatient.
Bruce felt guilt swirl in his stomach at the look on your face, knowing he was disappointing you but also knowing it was for the best.
He kept the hand on your arm, leaning up and wrapping it around your back to bring you into his chest, his other arm going behind your neck and tucking you into his side like you were his most precious doll — you were of course.
You didn’t fight him even if you wanted to, enjoying the warmth he provided and the safety you subconsciously sought out snuck tight in between his arms.
“Bruce.” You grumbled anyway as you settled against him, his arm releasing you for a moment to pick the blanket up and over his waist so there was nothing separating you two from each other.
You felt hard plains of muscle underneath you when he did, a flustered pinkness appearing on your cheeks, then slowly crept in hot embarrassment at the fact that your husband’s carefully structured body that you’ve seen many many times still managed to make you shy.
You melted into his side, albeit a bit stiffly as you were still annoyed with him and wanted to blatantly show it, your arms stubbornly slotted against your chest to separate yourself from laying completely on his.
When Bruce was done adjusting the blanket, the bed moving as he did, he settled still and looked down at you with those kind eyes of his you loved so much, the ones that always flustered you when you stared back into them for too long.
The arm behind your neck pushed you closer to him while he took his right hand and wrapped it around your chin, his palm so warm and big against your jaw that you couldn’t help but sigh in submission.
Bruce gently forced you to look up at him, his eyes staring down at you softly but earnestly.
“Alright, hey, don’t be like that with me. If there was something I thought you really needed to know I’d tell you. Otherwise, it’s best I keep that side of myself as private from you as possible. I hate the thought of you being in danger because of me, because I exposed you to that side of myself you didn’t need to see.” Bruce whispered genuinely, minty breath fanning over your nose as you stared up at him, seemingly calm now and even just a little regretful for being so upset with him in the first place.
“Just give it a rest honey, alright? I promise you, it’s nothing you need to worry about. Do I ever go back on my promises, hmm?” He said sweetly, looking down at you with insistent but loving eyes in the expectation of you responding.
You paused for a moment as you registered his words, still curious to know what he was really thinking about because you just couldn’t help it. You worried for him, wished he’d be more open with you so you could help him in whatever way you could. However, you also didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was either, your mind picturing all the purple bruises littering his beautiful body pitifully.
So, you just shook your head like a scolded child, “No… you don’t.” You’d have to bite your tongue for now, pouting up at him cutely — Bruce was just too sweet to argue with sometimes and he knew it.
Bruce gave you a charming smile, gray shadow washed over the angles of his straight nose and narrow cheeks. His brown hair was more unkempt than usual, wavy tendrils of it fallen around his face. He looked so handsome, more tranquil this way, as he leaned down and gave you a peck on the forehead, a sweet hum sounding in the back of his throat.
“That’s my girl.”
You sighed happily, giving in to him completely now and wrapping an arm around his chest so you could burrow against him; he wrapped his arm around you tighter instinctually, enjoying the feel of you against him as he looked up at the ceiling in content.
Nothing was better than being with you, so much so that Batman himself felt satiated from his lonely perch in the back of Bruce’s mind.
You stared out the large, arched window on his wall for a few quiet moments, watching as the rain quickly fell down the glass one by one as Bruce softly traced his textured fingertips along the spine of your back.
“It always rains, you ever notice that?” You murmured tiredly against his skin, in a daze from the tingling sensation on your skin as he caressed your back in gentle, loving touches.
Bruce looked away from you a moment when you spoke to spare the window a disinterested glance, “What? You don’t like the rain, Mrs. Wayne?” He teased you, his spirits higher than before as he looked back down at you even if you couldn’t see, his nose filled with the sweet smelling shampoo you used — coconut and vanilla.
You smiled a little — you loved when he called you that.
“Well of course you do. You’re Batman, you’re supposed to like depressing things.” You spoke with a smile, only teasing him as your eyes drifted shut from the comfort of his body against yours, muscles melting against the black sheets nestled between his own.
Bruce chucked at that, his hand ceasing its calming motion, “oh, is that right?”
You hummed with an amused smile on your lips, nodding your head, “mmhmm, yes sir.”
Bruce scoffed playfully at that, looking down at you with a fond playfulness in his eyes before gently taking his muscled arm out from underneath your head.
You lifted your head up curiously to look at him, wishing for the moment to not be disturbed, only to be gently rolled over so that Bruce was laid on top of you and you were now sunken into the inky black abyss of cushions beneath him. Your lips parted in a slight gasp, staring up at him with those beautiful eyes he loved so much in surprise.
“Now now, Mrs. Wayne, don’t go calling me that unless you plan on doing something about it, it’s in bad taste.”
You giggled at that, a joyous and twinkling sound that made Bruce tense up, his eyes darting towards your lips and his heart quickening in his chest. You always had such an effect on him even if you didn’t know it.
“How ‘bout you do something about it then?” You whispered up to him sensually, voice low and playful. You could feel the air surrounding the little bubble you two found yourselves in change heavily as you ran your hands softly over his midsection, his light skin cold and soft, muscles hard and firm as you traced your fingers delicately over each individual ab until Bruce was twitching at the feeling.
He glanced down at your hands hotly, already worked up from your minuscule touches alone, his skin tingling from the sensation as a familiar heat started to twirl in his lower tummy.
He looked back down at you, eyes more hooded now but just as eagerly as rain pounded on the windows somewhere in the background — you couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of his warm breaths and the gradual throbbing between your own legs.
“Yeah? Would you like if I did something about it, Mrs. Wayne?” Your husband mumbled huskily, a teasing smirk on his lips as he lowered down closer until his face was just above yours, his big arms pressed into the pillow on each side of your head so you were surrounded by him.
He could see the way you inhaled at the name, felt the way your nails dug into his skin for a subtle, fleeting moment. He always knew all the right ways to turn you on, knew all the right words to say to make you melt in his hands like warm syrup — you were certainly just as sweet.
You stared up at your husband with heavy breaths, mouth watering for a taste of him, eyes blown black with love and unabashed want as he sat in the reflection of your irises. Your skin felt hot and your thighs tightened around his waist, arms aimlessly tracing the ridges of muscle that coated Bruce’s front; it was in an innocently naive way now, so unaware of how badly it was affecting Bruce himself as your initial confidence dwindled down to need.
You impatiently waited for him to make a move, give into the desire you both so clearly felt as your eyes ran over his shirtless body and perfect face in the mean time. With every exhale of breath out of his mouth you found yourself inhaling it back in, breathing his air and smelling of Bruce’s aftershave, Bruce’s shampoo, it was all just Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.
He had completely overwhelmed your senses with his smell, his presence, his very existence and it was making it hard to think clearly — only he plagued your thoughts so much it made your fingertips buzz to feel more of him.
It was in moments like these where the sheer size of Bruce was brought to your attention; he was much more muscular than you, all sharp edges and ridges of pure muscle and destruction that could destroy anything he put his hands on.
It was ironic to you, how those same hands that broke bones were the same hands that caressed your skin in the softest of touches, in the softest of ways, irrevocably incapable of breaking you.
Bruce believed he was all carnal ruination — hands made to break and fists made to destroy. He believed he had a dark side in him he couldn’t control, that Batman was the outlet for all the frustration he felt towards the injustices of the city and how easily it corrupted the lightest of souls. He believed he was made to hurt, to cause ruin — a reason why he never took a single human soul no matter how rotten it was.
But you believed he didn’t give himself enough credit, which is exactly why moments like these were so important to remind him.
You swallowed nervously now as you looked back into his eyes, your fingers faltering in their movement as they stilled on the angles of his hips, right outside the tight band of his black sweatpants.
“Yes, Mr. Wayne, that’s exactly what I want.” You whispered back up to him in a velvety soft tone, eyes looking at his pink lips and then flickering back up between his hazel irises lustfully; the look in them was too intense for you to handle but you sufficed, your heart thrumming passionately under your skin at the attention.
Bruce almost melted at the name, just as affected by the title as you were, lowering his face down until his nose was touching yours, his lips hovering right above your own.
“That’s my girl…” Bruce breathed thickly against your lips, his eyes flickering to your mouth as yours did the same to his, your mouth salivating for a taste of him.
A silent beat passed as you both just stayed in that position, locked into each other’s loving gazes and gentle touches, his lips just a whisper away from yours screaming to have you, to taste you. It was intimate and warm, quiet, your body feeling fuzzy and alight with something similar to deep admiration and not so far from a deep, shared love for each other.
There was no playfulness about it now.
It was then, when the tension had sizzled into flame did Bruce finally lean down and kiss you, his lips soft and cold, so contrasting from the warmth he sought in yours as the rain pattered on the windows and your angelic essence drowned him further into the depths of you.
You moaned softly, feeling relief flood through you as your hands gripped his hips for some sort of anchor off the clouds you seemed to be floating on. Bruce kissed you lovingly, a characteristic act of tenderness as he found his own needy noises hum in the back of his throat.
It was sweet and slow, lips careful and gentle against each other between delicate sighs and hums. He tasted of peppermint and the faint drawl of bourbon, his tongue damping your lips and your shared saliva wet on your mouths.
He seperated from you just for a short moment, your lips feeling the loss but not for too long before he was on you once more with a fervor, tongue molding between your lips forcefully and sucking yours into the warmth of his mouth.
You whined at the sudden confidence within him, lips barely moving against his as he took control of your movements and gave you no other option but to take what he gave you — his lips and his tongue tangling with yours messily as sensual rumbles sounded deep from within in his chest.
He brought a hand down from the pillow and intertwined it in your hair, tangling his thick fingers into your roots and pulling hard enough to arouse you further. It made your back arch and lips part in a salacious gasp.
Bruce found himself unable to part from your delectable taste for long, taking that moment to reconnect his damp lips to the skin between your chin and shoulder. He forced your head back as he kissed your neck, the cold air hitting every damp spot in a pleasurable tingling sensation that had your nails digging into his abs.
“Bruce…” You sighed oh so sweetly in a distracted state of mind, just wanting to say his name and have him hear how good he was making you feel with his simple kisses alone — a feat he always accomplished anytime he did.
The praise didn’t fall on deaf ears but he was too preoccupied with the sound of your heavy breaths and whines to really pay attention, too love drunk on the smoothness of your skin falling over his tongue as he licked his way down to your collarbone. He released his grip on your hair and his hands made idle work in caressing their way down your body to the hem of your white pajama top.
His hands were eager, so familiar on the curves of your body as they slid back up to your chest, hands big and desperate as they tightly gripped your bosom for a fleeting moment that had you moaning at the sting — he was handsy, unable to get enough of you and the way your body perfectly slotted between the strength and ridges of his hands.
His cock was already hard in his slacks, poking against your thigh absentmindedly as his hands dug into the center of your top and adamantly ripped it right down the middle. The buttons flew over the bed and your tits spilled out of the ripped material in a gorgeous ripple of flesh that had Bruce groaning at the sight.
“So beautiful, so gorgeous, just fucking perfect…” He mumbled in a lustful daze, more to himself as a factual observation, his hands now gripping your waist, eager mouth leaning down and making quick work to lap at your chest in the way he knew you liked.
You giggled dreamily at that, feeling fluttery and lightheaded at the praise, body warm and melting like a cube of butter on top of his silk bed sheets. He was always capable of making you melt with just a few loving words and caresses, another one of his talents.
Your hands had found their way into his thick hair, massaging at the loose strands when you decided it was impossible to stay still from the buzzing running through your pores.
Your pussy throbbed in your pajama shorts, painfully so, stomach in tight knots at the sparks shooting down to your core from his ministrations.
He found himself enthralled by the feeling of your tit in his mouth, fervently sucking on the skin there as his hands gripped into your waist so tight in a subconsciously possessive hold so you could never leave. Maybe it was the semblance of Batman himself leaking out from under tight fingertips, a degree of fierce protection in the way he held you underneath him, unable to be taken or destroyed by the same evil he fought almost every night.
You were here with him, with him and all of his burdens for the rest of your lives.
“So gorgeous…”
Bruce was lost in the pleasure you helplessly moaned in his ears, feeling his own mutual desire swirling in his tummy and thrumming through his skin that made every touch feel like fire, every kiss an ember from the flame until you and him were intertwined ash lost in the black smoke.
He loved you, his pretty wife, always so supportive and forgiving in the moments he definitely didn’t deserve it.
He picked his head up, panting and lips wet, your chest littered in pink marks and damp with his spit as Bruce licked his lips, hungry for more already.
You looked at him in all his glory, admiringly, just as enamored with him as he was with you as your warm hands slid down to his cheeks. Your own were flushed pink and feverish, breath warm and heavy as you lovingly ran your palm over his sharp cheekbone. His skin was soft, smooth and tepid under your dainty fingertips.
You gently caressed the faint purple of a bruise with your thumb, right in the hollow of his eye.
Bruce leaned into the tender action for a spared moment of comfort, his eyes hooded and twinkling in the dark as he breathed heavily against your lips. He kept finding himself absent in the presence of your beauty, staring at your face and your lips and being so thankful he had you at all.
“So beautiful…” He breathed gingerly, eyes looking over your face like he was seeing you for the first time — no, he was selfish in his blatant admiration of your magnificence, his heart throbbing almost painfully in his love for you as he watched the soft corners of your mouth twist into a shy smile at your devotees idolatrous attention.
He leaned down after a fond moment of your thumb tracing his cheekbone, after he was satisfied with his generous intake of your prettiness. He pecked an affectionate kiss on your smiling lips before dipping his head down and laying several kisses to your neck once more.
You bit your lip at the sensitive feeling, closing your eyes, lost in the feel of him, as he pampered you with doting kisses all the way down to your ribcage, his hands now playing with the hem of your shorts but not too boldly as to take them off quite yet.
“You’re everything, you know that? I could never imagine my life without you… you’re perfect, so perfect.” He rubbed your stomach adoringly, “Your body is perfect, so beautiful, I can’t believe you ever married me…” He mumbled in that rough voice of his, vulnerable in the night, in the moment when you couldn’t see him all the way clearly but he could see all of you just fine.
You could feel another smile playing on your lips — not that it had even left — the heavy sensation of happy tears casting a light sheen over your eyes. He was the perfect one, he was the gorgeous and beautiful counterpart of you that didn’t seem to realize his own value. You only wished you had the poetic spark in yourself that he had, then you’d be able to voice it properly. Still, his praise made your heart swell as he took your left hand and kissed the diamond ring on your finger amorously.
“Oh, Bruce…” You spoke in a hushed manner, voice wobbling from the overwhelming infatuation you had for the man, so thankful and grateful for such a man as wonderful as he. In your eyes the sudden romance had come out of nowhere, but it was still greatly appreciated as it caused your voice to thicken with the downpour of love it had spiked.
He looked into your eyes as he warmly kissed your palm, lips quirked slightly, eliciting another tender hearted smile from you. He then let you settle your hands back on his shoulders as he slotted himself between your hips, the affectionate moment lingering in the air as you pet his wide shoulders.
You were laid on your back, smooth thighs spread to accommodate his size between them, pajama top ripped down the middle in fragmented material hanging off your shoulders, your tits pooled on your chest and wet with his kisses. Your hair was tangled, fanned around your head, lips pink and plushy from all his salacious kisses, your eyes glittering erotically bright.
Despite that, you were not uncomfortable to be so exposed to him, exposed in a way you’d only ever be with him. You knew he would never judge you nor your body, that he loved you and all your freckles and scars and all the blemishes you considered imperfections — he loved them all. The only part of you not seen were covered by the shorts Bruce was already eager to take off.
You were beautiful to him, ethereal even, just as he said you were an angel, something divine and pure, a holy deity completely out of this world that transcended the mortal plane he was bound to, letting his lowly lips and hands cherish your merciful soul and body. Just oh so perfect.
“I love you…” You whispered, pathetically cute, down to him, a whisper wafting into his ears soft and fragile as if you were scared he wouldn’t say it back — he’d say it everyday for a thousand years if he had the blessing of living that long with you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulsing with need, as you smiled down at him sweetly.
“I love you more, Mrs. Wayne… I love you more…” He breathed hotly against your stomach, already leaning down and peppering sugarcoated kisses along your pelvis, so much closer to where you really needed him that the throbbing had become unbearably intense, wetness soaking your inner thighs and cream colored shorts. You felt your body shiver at the title once more.
You swallowed shakily as Bruce moved down, his daft fingers hooking into the band of your shorts and gently shoving them down to your knees as his longing lips reached the band of your lavender laced panties.
Your thighs tightened around his head as cool air hit your wet center, your body sensitive and pulsing heavy notes of desire straight into your pussy that made it hard to keep your head up and eyes open.
You just needed him, needed him and his expert mouth to bring you some sort of relief. Your toes were curled already, pussy clenching around nothing and spewing out clear juices that only damped your underwear further. You tangled your fingers into his hair heatedly, resisting the urge to shove his head down where you really wanted him.
Bruce swallowed hungrily, staring at your panty-clad pussy with dark eyes. He could smell your sweetness on his nose, the rain pattering on the windows still and the room still dark as sin but he could see his heaven clear as day, hypnotized by the patch of wetness in your panties, molded to the shape of your pussy lips and begging to be ripped apart.
His eyes flickered up to you, feeling your grabby fingers tangled in his hair as your thighs tensed back and forth around his neck.
Your head was barely held up, eyes hooded and sparkling with a form of lustful desperation as you stared down at him. Your chest bobbing up and down heavily and your skin radiant and smooth, the city lights from his window blurredly reflected in the fat of your cheeks. You already looked destroyed, like he had just fucked your brains out yet he really hadn’t done a thing.
“Bruce, come on…” You whined in a delicate plea when he made no movement further, hands barely pulling his hair but it was hard enough for his skin to prickle in pleasure, a hiss leaving his lips, just hard enough to get your message across.
He snickered at that, lips shiny and jaw chiseled, his face so sharp yet soft at the same time. His beauty greatly perplexed you for how could a mere mortal be so fucking handsome? He was though, he was strong and big and riddled with scars and imperfections yet the accumulation of all those little faults are what made him flawless.
Bruce himself felt the throbs of impatience nestled in his stomach, burrowed in his heart, buzzing at his fingertips, as he looked down at your pussy once more just inches from his mouth, both wet and watering for the other.
“Be patient, honey. I just wanna look at ‘cha first. You’re so pretty, dripping wet for me…” He had the audacity to murmur in that cocky voice of his, yet simultaneously genuine and stunned at the observation as his hands rubbed your thighs, being sure to heartily press into the tissue in that way he knew you liked.
You couldn’t help but pull his hair some more, bursting at the seams for some sort of pleasure you feared it would boil over and you’d explode. You felt frustration settle through your veins once more like molten lava, your skin tensing and thighs aching from their tight grip around his neck.
“Bruce, no more teasing, please? Just please…” You moaned and whined like a stubborn girl, voice thick with need and painful yearning that made his cock twitch in his pants. You almost sounded broken, voice fragmented with a certain torment only his mouth and fingers could appease.
He licked his lips, feeling desire swell in his lower tummy at the state of you — already so incapable of any thought but the memory of his cock inside you, the feeling of his fingers drilling into your tight hole as he spat and licked on your sensitive clit. It was all you could think about, all you could picture in your mind as your head laid back on the pillows and you scooted down the bed until your pussy was right in his face.
The blanket had long since been forgotten, bunched around his hips and aiding as a nice cushion for his abdomen hunched over the end of the bed.
Bruce felt himself chuckle huskily at your shameless neediness, his big hands stopping on your plush inner thighs as he settled down between your legs on the soft mattress, getting himself comfortable for you.
You breathed heavily, eyes closed as you laid back on the silken pillow with your face crumbled so cutely. He was such a tease even when he was meant to be sweet, even when he was insistent on being a good husband who doted on his wife whenever he could — you guessed growing up rich gave him that arrogant edge.
Your stomach was knotted so tight, your skin hot and shivering for some sort of touch as your fingers dug themselves into the roots of his damp, brown hair. You needed him so bad, but your pussy needed him worse.
You felt your thighs tickle as Bruce lightly traced the pads of his fingers down, down, down until he was at the crook of your inner thigh, his right hand digging into the flesh of your leg like he himself couldn’t hold back from you anymore.
Bruce didn’t bother voicing any teasing quips or dirty statements, knowing you were so out of it you wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Every fiber of your being was hooked on his touches, hyper aware of the spots his fingers trickled across, eager for some degree of pleasure that would make this painful waiting period worth it.
He swallowed down the salvia pooling in his throat, so hungry for a taste of you, starved almost. His index finger hooked into your panties and delicately pushed them out of the way until they were bunched in the crook of your thigh. His eyes were met with your soaking wet slit in all its glory.
White, creamy arousal stuck to your panties and dripped down your pulsing hole into the crack of your ass, sheer white beads of cum dribbled down your needy hole that would escape his tongue before he even got a proper taste of you yet.
The cool air made you whine behind closed lips, your voice high pitched and desperate now, your fingers tighter in his hair as your hips subtly bucked forward. The beautiful noises you were making made Bruce’s jaw clench.
You were glistening, shiny with arousal and the strings of impenitent want, evidence of your desire and love for him as he found himself inhaling the scent of you once more.
You smelt so good. He found himself groaning at the musky sweetness, his finger still hooked around the crotch of your panties as his other hand tightly gripped your thigh — you moaned softly at the pressure, sure that there would be the faint yellow bruises of his adoring fingerprints pressed into your skin tomorrow. A charming reminder of the evening when they blossomed.
You felt your core clench once more, thighs tensing up as wetness shone in his greedy irises.
Bruce was unable to wait any longer, his mouth salivating and his eyes blown black as he pressed his tongue into your wet hole and licked a bold stripe all the way up to your buzzing clit, the taste of your arousal pooled on his tongue and already dripping down the sharp corners of his mouth.
You couldn’t stop the loud moan from echoing in the room, euphoric sounding as sweet sparks went off all over your skin at the long awaited contact. Your fingers tightly anchored themselves in Bruce’s hair as his tongue went up and down your folds, gathering as much of your wetness in his mouth as he could.
His hands swiftly dug themselves into your hips to hold you down once you started writhing in his hold. His tongue forcefully circled your clit in sharp wet strokes, deep rumbled moans escaping his chest that vibrated the sensitivity of it and only made more wetness gush out of you and soak his chin.
You tasted so good, so fucking good; he wanted nothing more than to be drowned in your essence, choking on everything you gave him until his belly was full and even then he wouldn’t be satisfied, he’d never be satisfied. He was like a monster, chasing every little drop of cum that pebbled out of your clenching hole with a forked tongue, greedy and carnivorous like you were the only nectar he ever wanted to taste again.
His tongue lapped your pussy once more as you gasped, back arched and toes clenched as he thrusted his tongue into you over and over, wet and messily as your juices shimmered on his cheeks and lips.
No, he decided, the beast within him would never be tamed.
You bucked away from his mouth in a pathetic attempt to free yourself from the overwhelming pleasure, but Bruce held you down with his strong arms, staring up at you with furrowed brows of concentration as his lips molded over your puffy clit once more, swollen from need and his relentless licking.
He was nothing if not devoted, devoted to your elegance, to your holy figure and endless love as he lapped at you desperately, his tongue swirling your clit as the fabric of your panties tickled his nose. He couldn’t get enough, pushing deeper and harder until your wetness was messily smeared on his mouth and face, eating more and tasting more until his entire being was smothered with your cum inside and out.
“Bruce, o-oh my god!” You squealed wantonly, one hand now gripping the black sheets between tight fingers as your other hand remained in his hair, following the movements of his head as he went up and down, side to side until not an inch of you wasn’t covered in his salvia.
He breathed hotly against you, his eyes closed as he savored the feel of you in his mouth and trickling down his throat. He couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t listen to reason as all he could focus on was you and your cum, tasting you, licking you, having you in every sense of the word. No one could tear him away from you, not now, not when he was so close to having you cum in his mouth and reaching his final purpose.
You were so close, you could feel it in your tummy. Your hole clenching around his tongue as he went back and forth from your clit and your soaked hole, wanting to pleasure you but simultaneously wanting to taste you for his own pleasure.
Your toes curled, stomach tightened, hands gripping the sheets as your mouth flew open in sporadic moans and gasps, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your thighs squeezed around Bruce so tight you’d fear he’d never surface from between your legs again.
He wouldn’t have a problem with that.
Bruce picked his head up only high enough to talk, lips dripping and almost incoherent as he mumbled deeply into the wet folds of your pussy like he couldn’t bear to part, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, Mrs. Wayne, make me proud, cum in my mouth.” As he voiced this his one hand crept down and slyly inserted themselves into the tight confine of your warmth, his index and middle fingers pushing inside you, so long and so big it made you cry out.
It was wet and warm, your juices slapping against his knuckles as he circled his fingers inside you, pushing on the spot he knew he was supposed to as his mouth eagerly returned to your clit. He looked up at you, eyes dark and heavy as he stared at your tits jiggling with every thrash of your hips, every arch of your back and every gasp out of your pretty, dampened lips.
He groaned into you at the sight, feeling his cock achingly hard in his pants as he sucked your clit into the warmth of his mouth and refused to let go, tongue prodding the area skillfully and harshly. He wasn’t going to stop this time, not until you were creaming around his fingers and leaking down his neck.
The air was so thick and stuffy that you couldn’t help but pant fervently, your body prickled with pleasure and overwhelming sensations that made it hard to focus on anything but his fingers inside you, long and lithe, slipping in and out as the sounds of your wetness clouded your ears and muffled your moans.
Bruce himself was lost in you, tongue and lips a glistening mess as they lapped and circled and sucked every part of your pussy exposed to him, it felt so good it stung — he was groaning into you softly, pleasure building in his tummy and rumbling through his mouth to your already so sensitive clit.
It was then, just a few short moments after his fingers wormed their way inside your tight walls, just a few short moments after he sucked your clit into his mouth did you feel your stomach relax, thighs squeeze around his head so hard he felt himself go dizzy.
“Ahh, O-oh my god, Bruce!” You moaned so blissfully, so sweetly, as your juices squirted onto his chin and his fingers squelched inside you.
Bruce moaned at the feeling, fingers gently sliding out of your clenching hole so his tongue could catch all the cum pouring out. You whimpered at the feeling of his mouth still on you, lapping at your hole like a dehydrated villager kneeling at a prosperous fountain, your skin pasty and so so hot.
He lapped at your pussy a few more times, up and down, ensuring he got his fill for the evening as faint tremors wracked your body in the aftershocks of his giving nature. You were flat on the bed now, belly sore from the tightness it held for so long, legs limp and body spent as you panted gently, heart throbbing in your ears.
You managed to lazily caress his sweaty hair though as Bruce surfaced from between your legs, face glistening and lips sore and pink. He looked manic, hair pulled and tangled and messily scattered on his face yet he seemed to be glowing at the same time, like he had never felt so alive and it made you want to giggle.
He sniffled, looking up at you with an impish grin, the taste of you lingering in his mouth and staining his nose. His hands fondly massaged your shaking thighs, noting your wrecked appearance and tired eyes, your sweaty skin flushed and warm.
He couldn’t help it as he glanced down at the mess he made, your slippery wet folds and the large patch of wetness staining his sheets.
“Mrs. Wayne, pardon my brashness of course,” He said almost sarcastically, breathless and rugged, an amused smile quirked on his lips as he leaned forward and embraced your hand with his, “but you taste utterly divine.”
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⋆˚࿔ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @little-miss-chaoss — I hope it’s okay I tagged you, you said you wanted to be tagged in everything 😭🙌🏻
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waynewifey · 8 months
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Well, can you write a batman x fem!reader where the reader is a super hero (like catwomans superhero version or smth) and they just keep meeting at crime scenes and always flirt and stuff and end up dating?
obsessed much? — b.w blurb
summary: request above!
pairing: bruce wayne x superhero!reader
warnings: murder; hero wears acape
word count: 360
A/N: hii tysm for this request! i haven’t been writing much lately since my ‘aftermath’ fic, so this isn’t as big as you probably wanted, it just really made me want to write it as a blurb. maybe i’ll write a full fic about it later. also, i know a lot of people hate cape-wearing heroes but i absolutely love the goofy cliche, so i had to add that in. let me know what you guys think!
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he’s kneeling near the body with the putrid smell of blood flowing into his nostrils. the puzzle pieces are coming together, but there’s still a big one missing. the shadows devours him into the room. what isn’t he seeing? slowly, the sound of heels hitting the ground approach his back.
“i thought heroes didn’t do investigations.” the first reply is a scoff, then the cape rustling.
“i don’t,” she says, “but this one hits home.” bruce turns around to stare the deep round eyes, one of the few things he could see underneath her mask. her suit fits perfectly in her curves, the stretchy and non-flammable fabric accommodating her fight needs. perfect for running around town. it wasn’t bulletproof, though, because the stone-hard skin was all the protection she needed. the cape was just for fun. “i saved this dude from a train wreck last week. thought it was a malfunction, it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way anymore.”
“you think someone is targeting you.” she hums in response, a chill running down her spine. all she wanted to do was to use her gifts for the good of the city. somehow, that ended up with the total of four murders so far.
“they want to get my attention, i just don’t know why.” a pout appears in her puffy lips. he wonders what they feel like. he takes the plastic gloves off, staying with the leather ones, and lays them on the floor.
“who wouldn’t?” as he gets up, a snarky grin lightens her face up. they’ve always been this good in making the other forget the bodies in the room. literally.
“obsessed much?” one step in his direction leaves them inches apart. he still thinks it’s way too far. the height difference has her looking up, batting her eyelashes. “maybe you’re the killer, batboy.”
“it’s batman.” his voice is baritone and raspy, and she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks. one move and his hands would be on her. her heart beats shamelessly on her chest, like drums inside her body. his gaze is so penetrating she has to look away before answering.
“right. cute.”
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rxtrovillans · 9 months
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ღDom!Bruce Wayne (Nsfw)
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A/n: IM BACKKKK
Please reblog if you enjoyed <3
Summary: Some dom!bruce Wayne head canons :)
Bruce likes to keep your arms restrained,whether it’s him holding your arms down or have you tied down old fashioned — with some rope. He usually ties you up/holds you down while he eats you out.
When he wants to be a bit more romantic he’ll lace his fingers with yours as you devours your soaked cunt.
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. BATMAN LOVES EATING PUSSY.
Bruce loves tightly holding your hips as he plows into from behind, most time he ends up leaving bruises. To which he kisses the next day when they’re more visible.
He loves having you close so that he can whisper filthy things in your ear:
“Look at you taking my cock so well”
“You like it when I fuck you like you’re nothing?”
“Fuck you feel so good”
“Don’t you fucking cum”
“Look at how I fit so fucking good”
“You want more?”
Bruce likes handling you rough, whether it’s him forcing you to look at him in whatever position he puts you in.
He loves spanking you while you ride him, he loves the way your hips buck and how your body jerks when he does it.
He loves any position where he can still see your face, even in doggy or reverse cow girl he’ll still find a way to get to see your face.
Bruce loves making you whimper and beg for him (he teases you about it):
“Awww you need me?”
“How bad do you need me right now?”
“Fuck you’re soaked”
“Can I taste you?”
He DEFINITELY grunts
There’s only been one time where he has made you cry during sex, by extreme overstimulation. And as soon as he saw the tears roll down he came instantly and the hardest he’s ever came.
He loves seeing his cum on you, from him either cumming on your face, of cumming on your stomach/back/or tits.
He loves holding your legs down while he fingers roughly, curling his fingers inside you while playing with your clit. Bruce loves watching your body shudder and break down trying to keep composure while he fucks you, he loves watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth silently gape open from pleasure.
Thank you for reading!!!
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bia-wayne-west · 3 months
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The worst part of being bilingual is that you read something and your mind thinks it was in a certain language, then you spend hours looking for that imagine and only later discover that it was in another language.
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sadesluvr · 3 months
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Battinson! Bruce Wayne - NSFW Alphabet
A/N: Okay, I know I’m *really* late to the party but for some reason I’m back in my superhero era (I’m a retired Marvel girlie😔✊) and I’ve got Battinson brainrot….This is my first time writing for any Batman, and I haven’t rewatched the movie in entirety so sorry if this isn’t accurate!! :3
Written with a fem! reader in mind, but can be applied to anyone :)
18+ only, Minors DNI!
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
He’s always very caring, if not very subtly. I get the vibe that he’d become shy/reclusive after sex again, and so he communicates through his actions. If he lost control with you, he’d get you a rag/water/etc and leave it by you, and either signal to Alfred to run you a bath, or do it himself.
He stares at you, and you *might* not know what he’s thinking, but it’s definitely positive…He loves you and it’s scary :’)
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s quite neutral on his body, but he likes his hands. It’s one of the parts of his body that gets the most work done, and they’re the same ones to protect you. On his partner, even though he appreciates your entirety, he’s a hips and thighs guy.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Prefers cumming in you. It’s a deeply intimate act, and although there are big implications he loves the sensation of your walls clenching around him, and the way he feels inside you.
It’s also less messy! Still, he’s not averse to cumming on you… See W for more ;)
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He enjoys voyeurism, or ‘stalking’. Before you’re in an official relationship, he’ll follow you around the city, getting used to the routes you take and places you frequent. It starts off in a place of curiosity and desire to protect, but it gets a little kinky when he sees you semi-nude, or having sex with someone. He literally can’t get the image out of his head, it’s in his contacts…
When you’re together, he likes watching you get ready. We know he’s quiet af, so you won’t ever notice him standing outside a door/in a corner as you get ready, or undressed to take a shower. He’s even watched you touch yourself and it gets him so hard
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
None…Like, he may even be a virgin lmao (Which is HOT if Reader is experienced😳) The first time with you may be a little awkward - he’s not bad, but it takes a while to get him to feel relaxed and vocal about his needs. Practice makes perfect ;)
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Cowgirl - He likes being able to hold onto your waist and thighs while you fuck yourself on him, and he loves looking at you in the heat of the moment. Your whole body is on display, and it’s beautiful.
He also likes missionary!! It’s classic and romantic, and his favourite position to cum inside you. He melts when you cling onto his back and beg in his ear…
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
He’s not overly humorous, and your first times together are deadly serious. But, he’s basically a human cat and whilst he isn’t playful, he will make a dry joke or crack a smile at the little things when the time comes - He just takes a while.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Bruce isn’t a hairy guy, so the carpet definitely matches the drapes. Before being in a relationship with you I don’t see him caring that much of what he looks like down below, but he keeps it trim. Any hair is very light/short to the point that he may as well be clean shaven. He couldn’t care less about what hair his partner does or doesn’t have as it’s not something that’s a dealbreaker for him.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
OKAY. At first, he is definitely a little distant, detached even, but it’s literally because he’s inexperienced and is at one of his most vulnerable points. He does the basics, like checking in to see if you’re okay, but it seems a bit strained. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, of course! As time goes on, and he starts to be open to the whole idea of love, he can become very romantic. It’s dark af in the manor already, but he *might* become open to the idea of candles/mood lighting, just for you. He’ll touch and caress you more, say a few words in your ear, and he’ll always give you eye contact! Sex is really revealing for him so it’s always a big affair.
(I headcanon that a lot of his ideas of romance are kind of old fashioned, just because of how he grew up viewing his parents’ marriage, and Alfred is quite the old school gentleman, and the only one around him to give advice…It’s cute🥹)
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Is not a chronic masturbator. Only really does it when he’s very pent up and agitated, or after he’s been around/seen you (ref: D). His loads are pretty normal.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Clothing (?) - Idk if this is a kink, but seeing you in a nice outfit gives him a kick. He definitely likes clothed sex.
Voyeurism - Mentioned in D
Praise kink - He’ll probably never admit it, but he likes hearing how he makes you feel, especially when your relationship is new! He’s inexperienced so he likes the reinforcement.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
A bedroom, or any closed room, preferably. The *only* time he’s willing to shower without Alfred telling him to is when you say you’ll go with him /hj
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
A combination of the little things. He’s definitely attracted to energy, but on the physical side seeing you in a nice outfit gets him going. Like, imagine getting ready for a gala…He’d spend hours watching you get ready, just in awe of how ethereal you look. Touching him, specifically when it’s not inherently sexual - Running your hands on his torso, arms, or the back of his neck to check his injuries or wipe off his makeup. It’s a way of seeing him.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hurting you, so no kind of BDSM. The regular things like scatplay/pissplay/bodily fluids. Calling him ‘Daddy’… Absolutely not.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
A CERTIFIED MUNCH. I’m talking that video of James Brown sweating, okay?🙈 He loves to pleasure you, and that means spending hours between your thighs, exploring every inch of your folds. Loves spreading your thighs apart, tracing circles on them as he makes you squirm and you hold onto his hair. He wouldn’t say no to a blowjob once in a while (Cumming in your mouth is his guilty pleasure), but definitely prefers giving. Can make you cum from oral alone.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
A mix of both! It’s always sensual, but sometimes he loses control and will get a bit rough, but it’s underpinned by his desperation and want for release.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Doesn’t mind them, but prefers when you have 100% of each others’ attention. Quickies in the Batcave definitely hit different, though ;)
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Not much, imo. Outside of having sex in the Batcave he likes to keep his lives separate, especially as he’s from such a well-respected family. Anything in public would be a PR nightmare and he’d rather not.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
The first time, he definitely cums quickly. He’s a little ashamed but it’s kinda flattering. After that, he’s got good stamina - he could probably do three rounds - but it’s dependent on how he’s feeling at the time. He doesn’t sleep much so downtime can be between 5 mins to hours if he wants another session.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He doesn’t own toys, but would secretly love it if you did. Likes watching you use a vibrator - especially when you don’t know he’s watching).
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s not a tease, tbh. His hands might linger in certain areas for longer than normal, when he’s in the mood, but other than that there’s not much.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He switches between loud and quiet! When he enters you, he always starts off with little whimpers and grunts, his sounds coming from behind his clenched teeth. As his pace quickens and he cums, he gets louder, with desperate moans and pants coming from deep with his chest. His volume level is at least a 6.5/10, not loud enough to be heard from another room. It’s the same when he masturbates, and he always whispers a little ‘Shit…’ if he thinks he’s making too much noise.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
His contacts have recorded everything. I’ll leave it there.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Above average, but nothing crazy! It’s got more length than girth.
Soft - 4 inches (10cm)
Hard - 5.9 inches, almost 6 (14.9cm)
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Average, if not a little lower. He’s human, after all, but his emotional state can get in the way of things. Once you’ve been together a while, it increases as he’s got a person to put to his desires.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn’t sleep. It’s rare, but sometimes his eyes might *just* fall shut for a few minutes or so after, but he’s pretty much awake beyond that. If you fall asleep quickly, he’ll watch you, or if not he’ll bring you a glass of water/a snack before disappearing again.
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bisayawa · 11 months
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hand. cramp.
𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ pairing: bruce wayne (pattinson) × afab!fem!eader
𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ warnings: smut. fluff. female masturbation.
𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ a/n: smut drabble; sometimes sex can be awkward. she/her pronouns used. w. count: 592. not proofread. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune. art by bernini.
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"give me a show, honey. please?"
that's what bruce had asked you thirty minutes ago, bright blue eyes twinkling, brows downturned in askance. he said those words into the hollow of your throat, nipping & pecking & kneading your thighs all the while.
he whispered & begged & pleaded, pressing kisses as you made your way to the bed, eager to watch how you do it, how you touch yourself with your own hands.
his eyes were wide at attention, ears piquing at the soft sounds breathing out from your lips. he watches, hungry, aching, pawing at the bedspread & biting his lip at the shine of your slick. from the tips of your fingers down to the knuckle, disappearing into the wet heat of you. you cant your hips, back & forth, blinking your eyes closed at the crest of each pass.
"faster," he said, staring. "could you do it faster for me, honey? please?"
he brings a kiss to your cheek, then another, and two more, grasping across your torso to hold you close, biting at your skin as if to coax you.
you obliged, of course, sweet words flowing into you like molasses. pure sugar lit afire in your chest as you feel the start of the tingle at the base of your spine, feel the warmth in your blood from your chest start to crawl down to the tips of your toes. your eyes go cross before you pinch them closed.
he's right beside you, biting & groping & sucking bruises into your neck as you pace faster...
― breaths heaving & flush brightening from your forehead down to your chest ―
and faster...
― small noises & airy sighs curling out from parted lips ―
and... stop.
you're stock still, panting as your legs are tense. your hand is unmoving, taut like a bowstring at rest. the climbing heat ebbs away. your toes twitch & jerk.
"honey?" he says, kissing your cheek. "you okay? what's wrong?"
he rubs your side soothingly, waiting.
your eyes open & you give a sleepy smile, huffing a laugh as you stare up into his eyes. your hand retreats. more breaths run out from your mouth.
"hand cramp, bruce..." you clear your throat. "sorry."
he softens at the sighed out apology, couldn't be more endeared. he moves to sit up beside you, kneeling almost.
"don't be." he reaches for your wrist & massages at your knuckles, kissing the back of your hand.
"bruce... ah-"
he takes your fingers to mouth, a haphazard clean up. drool from his tongue winds down in rivulets, from fingertip to palm. he eyes you as if to challenge. all he sees is your mouth parting in a small whimper.
he sets it down when it's clean of you, humming as the digits leaves his mouth. he savors it, of course, drawing it out slowly from where they're flush to his mouth. first your knuckles, then the middle, then out comes your fingertips, shining with his spit. he licks his lips, leaning down to give you a kiss sweeter & softer than spun sugar.
"my little love," he murmurs against your mouth. "got a cramp, did she? tsk, tsk..."
he breaks from the kiss then, grinning down as he kneels, moves over & sets a hand on your inner thigh. his fingers drum against the skin, impatient, crawling closer & closer to where you want him. the bed dips to receive the weight of him on his knees.
"i think i know what can make her feel better."
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stargirlfics · 1 year
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BRUCE WAYNE BLURBS
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18+ WARNING! a mix of smut, fluff and comfort
read from my battinson fanfics here
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Sugar Daddy!Bruce Wayne
Sugar Daddy!Bruce taking care of you and catching feelings
Shy!Battinson dealing with his feelings for you
Bruce gets jealous
Asking him to stay because you can’t sleep
Thoughts about his shoulders
Bruce losing control when he finally gets to fuck you
Bruce fucking you desperately
Bruce coming home to find you naked and waiting for him
Needy making out and smut
Drifter!Bruce + voyeurism
Meeting Drifter!Bruce for the first time
Drifter Voyeur!Bruce catching you touching yourself
You and Bruce w the “having to cuddle to stay warm” trope
Bruce slipping into his Batman voice in bed
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dreamtinblackandwhite · 2 months
Note
"I think this is the first time I've hear you moan... it was like a fucking melody." Prompt.
Can you please do battinson x female reader smut. After he takes her virginity the night before, they wake up in his bed & have sweet morning sex. Y/n is still sore from Bruce’s big 🍆 so he goes down on her first and then has sex.
sing for me
battinson x female!reader note: thank you for the request :) I was all blushy writing this one, oops warnings: smut, NSFW, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), brief mention of cock warming word count: 1868
“Good morning, beautiful,” Bruce whispers into your ear as he presses a soft kiss against the nap of your neck. His hands gently glide across your unclothed skin; searching their way down your shoulder and across your torso before resting at your hip bone and gripping softly.
You’d barely just started to stir, mumbling an incoherent greeting as your boyfriend continues to press soft, loving kisses along the skin of your neck. “Last night was amazing, love; you are amazing…” he whispered again, gently nipping at your earlobe at the end of his sentence. You let out a small whine as a shiver runs down your spine. “Are you feeling okay? No… regrets?”
You rolled over to face Bruce, gently setting your hand on his cheek with a loving smile. “I’m okay,” you promised, kissing his nose gently. “No regrets. I guess, maybe I thought I’d feel different losing my virginity but I don’t… I just feel—” you paused to bite your lip as you tried to put words to what you were trying to say. “I love you.”
Bruce’s smile grew wider at your words. “I love you,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours deeply. You spent a few minutes like this, your lips moving together passionately but soft and lovingly. You felt the butterflies in your stomach multiple as Bruce arched his hips towards you, pushing his erect cock against your stomach.
Images of the night before fluttered through your mind at the feeling: his kisses along your thighs, the way you came around his fingers first as he helped to stretch you out, the way he was so slow and kind as he pushed into you, the fullness you felt… God, the absolute fullness. “B-Bruce,” you giggled softly as you pulled away with a bright blush on your face. He had traced his hands down your thighs and was tracing soft circles against the sensitive skin just below your core.
“I think last night was the first time I’ve ever heard you moan, Y/N,” he whispered, looking into your eyes with his lust filled orbs. He voice was shaking and you could hear him swallow his own moan before you spoke again. “It was like a fucking melody. My own, personal, full band orchestra…” He groaned softly, dipping his chin down to kiss your neck more hungrily now.
You squeezed your eyes shut, chest heaving as his sloppy kisses ignited the fire between your thighs. “I would do anything to hear it again, Y/N; whatever you want, it’s yours; I just need to hear your moans from these perfect lips.” He gently reached a hand up to squeeze your chin ever so softly before pressing a hungry kiss into your lips.
You tried to stifle your moans still; it almost embarrassed you even though Bruce was here begging you for it. You and Bruce had only ever made out until last night, so the sounds and movements that accompanied the new pleasures that Bruce sent through your body still felt foreign. “Bruce,” you whispered, pushing against his chest slightly. “I-I want you…”
His eyes darkened slightly at your words and the hand that was tracing your thigh made quick work towards your folds. “W-Wait!” You quickly said, stopping his fingers at your pubic bone, just above your clit.
“What is it, baby?” Bruce whispered, gently brushing his hand through your hair. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know you won’t, and you didn’t last night, either,” you reassure as a blush crept over your cheeks again. “It’s just that, I’m sore…”
Bruce couldn’t stop the prideful smirk that crossed his face. He moved his fingers slower now, gently pushing the tip of his middle finger through your glistening folds to find your clit first. “I can help with that, love,” he whispered, starting to reposition your bodies carefully. You gulped as you laid fully on your back now and Bruce hovered himself down your body, tossing the covers onto the floor.
He lined a trail of sloppy kisses from your neck, across your breasts, over your stomach before stopping just before your folds. He gulped as he stared at your pussy that was aching for (and because of) him, licking his lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes and placed a soft kiss over your plump lips.
Your lips parted as a soft gasp escaped and the smallest moan echoed from your throat. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut at the sound as he slowly pushed his tongue to part your folds. “So beautiful,” he whispered, using one hand to kept your lips parted while the other gently raises your thighs over his thighs. He keeps his eyes on you as he laps his tongue against you harder and more direct now, just barely grazing over your entrance as his nose tickles against your clit.
He gently uses one finger to rub circles around your clit while slowly pushing his tongue into you, feeling your gummy walls clench around his intrusion. “Woah,” you moan, raising your hips to the feeling; he smirked against you as he gently fucked his tongue into you.
He worked slowly, switching between gently sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. He watched you slowly let go, as your chest heaved harder and more moans escaped from your mouth. “I’m going to finger you now, baby,” he mumbled against your clit. “Is that okay?”
You reached your hands down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Y-yu—” a strangled moan left your lips as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Y-Yes!” He chuckled softly as he gathered your juices on his middle finger before gently pushing the digit into you.
“Your so tight, my love,” he whispered as he craned his neck slightly to see your face as he started to pump his middle finger in and out of you. “Such a beautiful sight…” he moaned, watching your eyes flutter shut. He reached his free hand up to grope your breast lightly, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
After earning another soft moan from you, he gently slipped a second finger into you and continued to pump at the same speed. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered as he took your hand and set it on your breast to replace his. He watched happily as your instinctively started to grope yourself and play with your nipple, moaning at the feeling of your own hands. He moaned softly, pushing his lips against your clit again as slipped a third finger in.
“Want you, Bru—” you cut yourself off with a breathy moan as his three fingers curled inside you. He moaned against your clit, lapping happily as you tightened around him.
“Are you going to cum, beautiful?” He mumbled against you, speeding his fingers up. You felt the coil in your stomach stretch at his words, barely noticing that was what that feeling meant. You nodded your head eagerly, your back arching slightly as it started to wash through you.
“F-Faster, please,” you cried out. Bruce quickly complied, pumping his fingers faster as your tightening walls tried to push him out; he latched his lips around your clit, adding another layer of pleasure as your coil snapped and your legs shook against his shoulders.
Bruce lapped at the extra juices from your orgasm, pulling his fingers out and using the slick to gently pump his very erect and uncomfortable cock a few times. “Think you can take me again?” He whispered as he crawled upwards so his face was hovering over yours.
“Please,” you whispered, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. “I want you inside of me.” He groaned softly at your words and stared into your eyes as he ran his tip through your folds, nudging it against your clit. “B-Bruce,” you voiced somewhere between a whimper and a moan.
He smiled at you as he gently pushed his tip into your entrance, slowly allowing another centimeter in with each of your heavy breaths. “You are – fuck – you are doing so good, love,” he praised, watching you blink rapidly as you attempted to stay relaxed and not clamp down on him. “That’s it, baby,” he reassured, grunting slightly as your walls squeeze around him, already milking his cock. “Hard parts almost over.”
Both of you let out nearly pornographic moans as he bottoms out inside of you, his face buried into your neck as you cling to his shoulders. “I feel like a fucking king inside of you,” he whispers into your ear, kissing your shoulder softly as he rolls his hips against you softly, helping you adjust to his size.
The moan he earns from the action could have sent him into madness, but he remained controlled as he started to gently rock his hips against you. He moved to watch your face as the moans escaped your lips, his dick hitting spots inside of you that re-defined everything you learned durin sex-ed in school. “That’s right, ma, sing for me,” Bruce moaned as he pulled nearly all the way out and slowly rocked back in.
He didn’t need to move fast or get any extra friction to get that feeling of his own high approaching already; the way your walls clamped around him and the heavenly sounds you were making underneath him were enough for that.
“B-Bruce!” You cried out as that familiar coil returned fast and hard. He reached his hand down between your bodies and started to feverishly rub your clit while his hips remained slow and controlled, thrusting deep and hard enough that you were nearly overwhelmed. “I-I think I’m cumming,” you moaned loudly, ignoring your immediate embarrassment from the lewd sounds that left your lips as you felt that pleasure wash across your entire body, making your toes curl.
“Fuck,” Bruce groaned, his hips stuttering. He had fully intended to get at least 3 more orgasms out of you like this but hearing you moan his name was hard to ignore.
“You feel so good stretching me out like this,” you moaned into his ear, not thinking about the consequences your actions would have on Bruce’s composure. He moaned loudly as he buried his face back into your neck and released his warm seed inside you, keeping his hips pressed against yours as he twitched against your walls.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled into your skin. “You are fucking amazing.” You giggled softly, whining as he pulled out of you. “Shh, my love,” he whispered as he rolled onto his side and pulled your back against his chest. He reached down and grunted as he pushed himself back into your cunt. “Feels so good, just want to stay here for a bit…” He reassures as you moan softly at the feeling of fullness again.
“I love you,” you whisper before yawning and nuzzling yourself backwards against him, earning a groan into your ear.
“I love you, so much,” he replies with a lazy kiss to your temple. You both fall back into a peaceful slumber thinking of how many mornings you’ll get to spend with his thick cock buried to the hilt inside of you.
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hopesangelsprite · 5 months
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Stress Relief
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Pairing: Battinson x reader
Warnings ⚠️: zero plot whatsoever, pure filth, mating press, overstim, male moaning/whimpering, dubcon maybe (??? Idk), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it bros), creampie obviously, marking if you squint
MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI
Protecting an entire city would take a toll on anyone, so of course some kind of stress relief would be on order. And if that someone was constantly sleep deprived, full of internal conflict, and said city happened to be Gotham... that poor soul had better found a damn good stress reliever.
That's where you come in, pinned underneath your cities' Vengeance for however long he'd keep you there. Night after night, sunrise after sunrise. Tonight was no different than any other except the fact that your broody boy toy had more of an appetite than usual.
Right now, all you can feel is him and all he can feel is you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder just how long he'd felt this way, just how much frustration he harbored within himself. But the drag of his member against your warm walls is enough to dismiss the thought completely.
"Fucking hell.", Bruce breaths into your shoulder at your clenching walls, "You're so good to me.". Butterflies invade your stomach, intertwining themselves with the stir of your orgasm. You're close to coming again for the nth time this session. Just what had he seen on those damp, dark streets tonight.
"Y-you mean it?", you whimper out as if he isn't fucking your brains into the mattress beneath the two of you. He groans and nods feverishly as his hand abandons your tits to grip the headboard that's banging loudly against the wall. "We're gonna be together forever, princess. Won't let anyone hurt you... just me and you.", he promises in that sweet voice of his. The sweetness of his words and the smoothness of his thrusts mingle perfectly enough to send you farther over the edge. You call his name as you continue coming.
And he talks you through it, praising you and whispering the sweetest nothings. He never misses a stroke, thoroughly fucking you through your orgasm and well beyond it. Your walls continue to flutter and your body feels scorching underneath his. The tips of your fingers as well as the palms of your hands buzz, a telltale sign of overstimulation. You mewl at the feeling of another orgasm building already. Then, his pace changes as he begins to lose himself for the first time tonight. This time you're unable to stop him.
"Fuck.", he swears as his hand leaves the headboard and grips the pillow next to your head. Bruce's face falls back into the crook of your neck and he audibly moans. You can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the smell of his leather suit now completely masked by the smell of sex in the air.
His pace quickens and more curses fall from his reddened lips. You mewl and begin to squirm as the overstimulation starts to grow far too much. Though your brains have been thoroughly fucked out, you manage to beg, "P-please... I can't-". You cut yourself off with a loud wanton moan as Bruce's other hand slips between you from your other thigh to press on your lower abdomen. He feels so good inside of you it's unbearable.
Your moans spur him on as he presses a bit harder. "Need... need you to come for me. One more time.", he requests drawing a whine from you. "Can't, 's too much!", you whine as you feel your thighs shake on either side of him. He huffs as he presses again earning pretty sobs of pained pleasure from your puffy lips. "You can, princess, know you can. Said you could take it, didn't you?", he encourages in between pretty moans and you can hear his sanity slowly slipping away. Still, you protest once more.
He growls lowly as his hand dips lower to begin mercilessly toying with your swollen clit. You yelp as you reach between your bodies to weakly tug at his wrist. He's stronger than you so your struggling waxes futile. "Bruce-", you try to reason with him, "Too much!". He quickens his ministrations at your words and you cry out as you feel the familiar knot begin to form in the pit of your stomach.
"Shh shh shh, it's okay... almost there, princess.", he whispers through labored breaths, "I'm almost there.". You want to tell him that you almost are too, but you can't seem to form the proper words. His grip on the pillow tightens, and the movement of his hips becomes jerky.
"Fuck, please I need it so bad... So, so badly.", he moans quietly, almost to himself, "please, please, please..". Hearing him completely lose his composure nearly throws you off the edge. The way he's begging damn near sends you into orbit. "Pretty girl's gonna let me cum inside, right? Please?", he asks and your heart swells with love. Who are you to deny him when he's asking so politely?
You nod as your vision fills with stars, "Yes!". He whimpers into your neck as his frantic thrusts signal his impending release. You begin to squirm harder, and his hand slides from the pillow to grip your hip. His hold on you is strong despite the soft sounds leaving his mouth.
He presses you farther into the mattress, and you're sure you'll have a bruise on your hip the size of his hand tomorrow morning. "Jus' a little bit more..", he trails off to bite at your hickey covered shoulder. "Need to finish, I'll be so f-fucking good to you... be so fuckin' good to my princess, promise.", his words slur together. With that, you come for the umpteenth time and he's not too far behind.
The both of you shudder with overwhelming pleasure, and weak whimpers of each other's names seem to be the only thing either one of you can articulate. Hot, thick ropes of his cum spurt into your spasming walls painting them white and filling you up so much it begins to leak out.
Secretly, you hope Gotham's streets keep sending him back to you even more needy than this.
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thewritermj · 6 months
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cameras flashes, that's how we crashed
battinson!bruce wayne X reader
part 1
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summary: on a press conference, bruce finds a journalist who's up to his standards
warnings: usual gotham violence, quick discrimination of a serial killer, not actually smut in this, but in the future so NSFW MDNI
a/n: forgive any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language!!! Bruce lives in the manor instead of the Wayne Towers cuz I like the manor vibe more, also I kinda picture Jim Gordon from the Gotham Tv show, cuz I love that version but it doesn't really matters lol. (nothing said above is useful for this reading but I just thought you should know) also, this takes place one year after the movie
Bruce sat quietly on the car, the ride was awfully short. He wished he had more time to mentally prepare to his first press conference. He was a recluse for most part of his life, but after the scandal about The Gotham Renewal Program, people deserved to know the truth. And the idea of continuing his family legacy of charity and philanthropy wasn’t all bad and kept Alfred out of his nerves for a while.
And even tough Bruce Wayne could crack a fake smile to the cameras, throw charity galas and events, the true help came at night. The only possible salivation Gotham could have, the real way he could help the city was as Vengeance. The Batman. He didn’t think of himself as a hero, or a vigilante, more of a necessary evil; all the violence and anger, the rage and the darkness of his work, his project; people would be outraged if they found out they were the same man.
“We’re here, Mr. Wayne” The driver announced.
Alfred, who as sitting across from Bruce on the limo closed the papers he was reading and smiles softly.
“Ready, master Bruce?”
Bruce sighs.
“Not really”
The car parked inside the underground garage of the Wayne Enterprises, Bruce and Alfred made their way to the elevator, not a word was said.
Bruce stole a glance at his reflection on the mirror. A black suit Alfred picked for him, a W embroidery on its lapel, his hair was short now, shorter than he liked, all slicked back by hair gel, but nothing could hide the dark circles under his eyes or the lack of sun colour on his skin. Sometimes, just sometimes, Bruce wishes he didn’t have to wear normal clothes, to comb his hair, ties his bottoms; he wishes he could live inside the Batsuit. He felt like the suit was his own skin, her armour, him and Batman were on, there was no Bruce Wayne without Vengeance, they were bonded forever and could never be separated from each other. He wish they could, he wish he could be Batman alone; no press conferences, no reports, paparazzi, no “Bruce Wayne crowned prince of Gotham.”
The elevator stops and the door open. Alfred goes our first and greet some people outside, telling them where to go.
“You have 10 minutes, Bruce.” He warns, “I’ll get them stared and you wait here till I call you”
Bruce nods.
He sits down on a leather couch and waits, starring at the glass doors. All the reports and journalists waiting for him, men and women, from Gotham and other places of the world.
He’s nervous. Not nervous like he is before a fight, nervous he will be put on a corner, that he’ll be catch on a lie, nervous someone knows. It’s like someone in the next room it’s just waiting for him to appears, to stand up from their chair and ask ‘Are you the Batman?’
“Ladies and gentleman, Bruce Wayne” Alfred announces from the stage and glances at him.
Bruce works on his better smile he can put on and enters the stage; he’s received with thunderous applauses and blinding cameras flashes. He waves and sit on a chair, in a wooden desk in front of him is a glass of water and a microphone.
“Let’s get, started then” Alfred said, pointing to a woman in a grey dress standing with a microphone in her hand.
“Mr. Wayne, why did you decided to throw a press conference after years of reclusiveness?”
Bruce leans into her direction a bit.
“Well, I think all the events of the past year made me realize how much the Wayne Foundation means to Gotham and I’ve been a little reckless with that matter”
It was a good answer, he thought.
The following questions were easy too, “Mr. Wayne, how do you plan on taking care of the raised money? To prevent anything to happen again”, “What’s the difference between the Wayne Foundation and the Gotham Renewal Program?”, “What projects do you have in mind?”, and of course, some shallow questions, “What brand is your suit?”, “What car do you drive?”, question he almost laughed at. Did people actually wanted to know that?
Bruce was thinking how the conference was going well, easy, almost, not as he had pictured it before. Until…
“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”
He flinched for half a second, he opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Another woman asked something he didn’t quite hear with all that was going on inside his head, but the word Batman was also there. And then another, and another…
“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”
The room turned into a complete circus. Grown adults talking over each other, fighting for a turn on the microphone.
You rolled your eyes. This happens every time, someone thinks about the name Batman and suddenly everyone has something to say. What does it matter Bruce Wayne’s thought of the Batman? There were so much important questions to be asked, so much more to discover about that man’s life and projects than a simple opinion.
You were begging to regret the moment you accepted the offer to come to this conference. You weren’t a regular journalist, you didn’t know how to write an article about the weather, fashion trends, social events, you wrote about thing most journalist didn’t want to, thing that most people were scare to read. People scared of the truth. You weren’t. You would dig and dig until the raw verity came to surface, it didn’t matter where or who you had to dig.
The man who had introduced Mr. Wayne appeared again and announced the press conference. No fucking way, no without the answers you wanted, you didn’t take this job to watch other people ruin it.
Slowly, you got up from your sit and walked towards the person who as holding the microphone and gently pull it away from his hands.
“Mr. Wayne…” but the voices around you were too loud.
You gave the head of the mic a flick, the loud keen sound made the room come silent.
“Sorry.” You apologized. “Mr. Wayne, why did you felt the urge to re-open the school project at the marginalized neighbourhoods of Gotham after your father failed attempted?”   
The men was halfway leaving, but he turned around reluctant, staring right at you. Those piercing blue eyes roaming your face.
“Well, I believe the project needs a second chance. Children and teenagers should be given a chance to have a good education, it helps getting them out of the streets.” He answered, without the microphone his voice was low, but the silence of the room let you hear him loud and clear. “Who do you write for?”
“The Gotham Gazette” You answered proudly.
Mr. Wayne whispered something to the other man and sat back at the chair.
“Do you have any more questions, Miss…?”
You smile politely and told him your name.
“Would you say that the Wayne Foundation has an impact outside of Gotham?”
A ghost of a smile appeared on the man’s lips. You shook the urge to smile back at him.
You could tell he was a bit nervous, but he had answered the questions with manners and the right words, maybe he didn’t notice, but he’s quite good at it.
“Yes. I think the work we do on the Foundation inspires people to do the same. If it works out, we can show the world that if there was hope for Gotham there’s hope for them too”
“Do you think there’s hope for Gotham?” You asked, out of spite, because you didn’t write it down before the press.
His lips contracted to a thin line and he thought of it for a few seconds before answering:
“Yes. As long as people like me and you care about what happens here, there’s still hope for the city”
You smiles.
“People like me?”
“You seem to know a lot about the charity work, and you care enough to show it to the world”
Your smile grew bigger and you felt a hint of warm rushing through your cheeks.
Mr. Wayne answered a few more of your questions before the press conference was over.
You were, oh, so proud of yourself. The information you gathered was perfect for what you had in mind and for sure, you could make it a good article. An admiring of the Wayne legacy, that’s what you called yourself. It has always called out to you what that wealth family did; they had no obligation to do it, to donate not just money, but time and resources to help those who couldn’t have what they did, to make Gotham something to be proud of. It’s a shame they never lived long enough to cure it, to heal it. However, you hoped that, maybe, Bruce did. At least he sound determined to.  
You gathered your things and your purse, but as you made your way to the elevator, a woman dresses on formal clothes approached you with a clean, sharp smile that made her look like a dental paste commercial.
“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind, following me?”
You frowned.
“Ahn…What for?”
“Mr. Wayne wishes to speak to you” She explained and her smile somehow grew wider.
Standing there for a few seconds, all you could do was nod as you followed her through a long corridor. What was happening right now? He wants to speak to you? Bruce Wayne wishes to speak to a journalist in private? And more important, to you.
She opened a door to a breath-taking office.
Right in front of you was a full wall window, a panoramic view of Gotham in all its “glory”, skyscrapers, apartment buildings, the clock tower, the bridge of the river, the field behind the road, you could see everything from up there. There was a wooden desk in front of the window, quite empty, and a chair that looked more comforting than any other you had ever sat.
When the woman closed the door behind you, your attention changed to the man standing on your left. Bruce Wayne was staring at you dead in the eyes with a facial expression of someone who just saw a ghost.
This guy seriously need some sunbathing. You shook that thought out of your head.
“Mr. Wayne. You wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes” His raspy voice responded. “Sit, please”
You took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the chair and he sat opposite of you, behind the desk, diving completely into the velvet chair. He crosses his fingers and stares at you again. It made you a little uncomfortable, he did that a lot, like a hunter watching its prey.
“So…”
“I’ve searched your work. You’re really good.”
“Thank you, sir”
“You won a Pulitzer, am I right?”
“Yes, a few years ago”
When did he get the time to read all this information? It’s not like you’re super famous, even the Pulitzer wasn’t a very known prize if you didn’t know the industry.
“For a book about a serial killer in Detroit” He said, a voice that verged into an interrogation tone. “The Divine Move?”
You blinked a few times.
“I…Yes. Nathan Walters.”
He lifted his eyebrows just an inch, telling you to continue the story.
You cleared your throat.
“He uh, he used to be the altar boy of the neighbourhood church and he chose his victims based on the sins he supposed they’ve committed.” You’ve shorten it, you couldn’t understand why a billionaire was asking you about the modus operandi of a criminal who was thousands of miles away.  “Why are you asking me this, if I may ask, Mr. Wayne?”
“You’re an investigative journalist. Why are you attending press conferences of a random billionaire?”
You supressed a laugh. Random.
“I grew up here, sir. I’ve always admired your family work, I took the opportunity when it was offered to me.”
“You seem to know a lot about my family history.”
“Like I said, I’m just an admiring. Although, I once thought of writing a book about the Wayne Legacy. Your legacy, sir.”
“Your legacy, sir”.
Bruce looked down at his cufflinks, the W prominent on a silvery material.
His legacy.
He once thought the Wayne Foundation was his legacy. But now he knew, his true legacy came in a bat shaped suit and sleepless nights; it came on purple coloured bruises and blood stained clothes.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Well…it’s very hard to write about something when you only get superficial information.”
You were nervous, he could tell. You kept staring at the view behind him, or at your shoes, tanking a little too long to answer his questions. He wondered how could a journalist gets nervous, almost shy.
He gave you a puzzled look, not using any words to express his question. But you understood it.
“Using material that was wrote by someone else. All the records and stories about your parents have already been wrote by someone else before me, so I couldn’t say it was my work, could I?”
He hummed.
Bruce took a sigh. Maybe. Maybe this was a good idea, it could keep him in a good status with the press, plus, he’d be able to hide even further down his secret identity, having a journalist with him every day? No one would suspect his the Batman.
“There are stories and details that haven’t been told.”
You bit your lower lip.
He stared at you.
“What are you implying, sir?”
“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”
“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”
You almost passed out.
Would you?
Who could say they had a proposal like that? Dig into the secrets of the Wayne family?
“Yes”.
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a/n2: aaaah this is actually so boring I'm so sorry, also I think I made bruce a little more talkative than I would've but anyways I may change it yet.
a special thank you to @preciouslandmermaid for inspiring me to finally write this!! <3
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