#cassandra cain smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delusionsofgrandeur13 · 1 month ago

Text

CASUAL

two weeks and his dad invites you to his beach house..

chapter three

NSFW!! MDNI. seriously. please look away.

tim drake x reader

readers can expect: many sexual acts, sex sans condom, shower sex, semi-public fingering, oral like reader receiving and face fucking, blurry relationship lines, missionary and cowgirl, etc. i went buck wild and so reader did too.

one chapter left, it’s just gonna keep getting crazier. thanks for waiting so patiently, it’s a LONG one. enjoy!!

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

“well, i need you to decide now.”

“this would’ve been a lot easier if you’d given me even a week’s notice..” you trail off under your breath, rolling your eyes.

you’re gonna have to call out of work, and see if your neighbor, or maybe lydia? could water your plants. you’d have to write up a note on which plants need some sun and which need more water than others. you’d need to make sure you have everything you need, from shorts, sandals, a bikini, to definitely something fancier, knowing tim’s family.

you sigh, shaking your head, lost in thought.

“no?!” tim asks, incredulous. you snap to, blinking.

“what? no. yes, i’ll go with you. calm down.” you reply, making a face when he huffs at you.

———————————————————

earlier

“you look antisocial.” bruce wayne’s voice echoed around the empty den, the ice in his whiskey glass clinking as he set it down.

“i’m the president of a frat. being antisocial is borderline—no, downright impossible.”

bruce rubs a hand over his face, sighing.

“i know that, tim, and you know that, but we: the family, the frat…” bruce sighs again. “we need the good publicity.”

“it’s been a few weeks already, though.” tim gestures with his hands, getting exasperated. feeling like he’s trying to climb out of a sand pit. he will not be winning this argument. “doesn’t enough happen in gotham that people have already forgotten?”

“you’d think, right?” bruce chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “but unfortunately for you, no.”

“but—bruce, i’m not dating right now. who am i supposed to bring?” tim looks incredulous, his hands spread wide.

“you’ll figure it out.” bruce is hiding a smile behind his whiskey glass, taking a long sip.

“oh, come on—,” tim shuts his mouth when bruce holds up a hand.

“you have a month.”

———————————————————

the week of..

seagulls call out to each other as the sea crashes beneath them, the sun a spotlight onto this beautiful little town you’d never thought you’d see.

old, colonial style houses with gardens full of obnoxiously huge hydrangea bushes, beautiful old women walking their pedigree cocker spaniels, golden retrievers, groomed poodles. the town center built on brick, with shops selling salt water taffy and artisanal, locally made ceramics. an old mustang drives past, rumbling down the cracked, well-worn streets.

the air itself feels premium, a deep breath bringing the fresh smell of clean earth and a lower note of salt from the ocean’s immediate presence.

it’d be overwhelming if it didn’t seem so perfect, the smile on tim’s face sending your heart stuttering. why didn’t you get out of gotham more often?

he grabs your suitcase from the trunk, setting it onto the gray gravel of the driveway with a crunch. how did they make even rocks look expensive? you take it, wheeling it over to the front door the best you can, tim behind you.

“master timothy.” an elderly man dressed to the nines opens the door, his mustache and beard gray but groomed to perfection. “they’re expecting you in the backyard.”

“we’re late?” you hiss to the boy next to you as he starts after the butler.

“..nah,” tim replies, looking back to give you a lazy and meant-to-be reassuring smile. you breathe in again, thinking about what this place would smell like as a candle.

“timmy…” the closest guy shouts, raising the cup he’s holding. his deep brown skin shines in the sunlight, glistening along with his wet swim trunks as he reclines on the deck furniture.

the blonde girl next to him turns, along with the girl she was talking to, who’s smaller, with a haircut not too different from tim’s. you try to roll your shoulders back as they take you in, the blonde girl giving you a solicitous smile.

the back yard is beautiful, and huge, the grassy lawn neverending, the pool attached to an almost pool-sized hot tub and a bar, tall trees surrounding the fence for privacy, but not blocking the sunlight.

the butler comes out with a tray of sandwiches and a refilled pitcher of lemonade, to cheers from the group.

the sun starts to set before you know it, and exhaustion sinks into your bones. your face hurts from smiling, voice scratchy from all the talking.

making a hasty excuse, you scamper inside. the silence of the kitchen helps loosen the vice on your ribs, letting you breathe in the cool air.

the butler watches you with an amused look from where he stands, behind the kitchen island. you notice him with a start, trying to play it off as the corners of his eyes crinkle into well-worn divots.

“could i please get some water, mr...?”

“pennyworth. but just alfred, please. and you are?” he extends his hand, nodding as you tell him your name, shaking his hand how you were taught to. “it’s lovely to meet you. would you like a bottle of water or a glass?”

“just a glass, if that’s alright.” you fidget, putting your hands behind your back.

“of course it’s alright, dear.” he hands you the glass, filled with frigid water but no ice. you thank him, gulping down a sip. “is there anything else i can do for you? show you your room? the bathroom?”

“maybe just my room, if it’s okay.” you say, clearing your throat.

he takes you upstairs, opening the door to your bedroom for the week with a sweeping gesture. your suitcase sits across the bed on the floor, your covers turned down. an open window beckons evening air inside, the smell of salt and flowers drifting into the space.

“your room, miss.”

“thank you very much, alfred.”

your new favorite place in the world, and it’s tim’s?

you shut your eyes, burrowing deeper into the cooled sheets and comforter.

tossing and turning, you can’t seem to shake the rolling feeling in your stomach that you’re not really supposed to be here. you settle onto your stomach, your face smushed into the pillow. a soft, cool hand brushes hair from your forehead, trailing down your burning skin to rub your back.

eyes glued shut, you sigh contentedly. the restlessness leaves you in waves, peace settling into your bones.

you feel the press of lips against your temple, and you fall into sleep as the presence fades.

the house is alive, the smell of bacon flirting with your nostrils. you roll out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and putting your hair up.

you come down the stairs, greeted by a small smile from cass who’s walking a loaded plate of pancakes to the table. your stomach growls, and duke chuckles from behind you.

“don’t worry, alfred’ll get you right.”

you smile in reply, nodding sheepishly. you follow him to the kitchen, grabbing the plate he hands to you, taking it to the table.

everything’s set, the bacon’s settled next to a steaming bowl of scrambled eggs, a pitcher of orange juice next to the basket of pre-toasted bread.

the sound of footsteps hits your ears, tim yawning as he enters the dining room. a faded old hoodie hangs off his shoulders, pajama pants slung low on his hips. he stretches like a cat, overdramatic as ever. but his hoodie rises, and your eyes track the line of hair leading from his navel, disappearing into his waistband. your mouth starts watering, definitely from the food. not because you just remembered his habit of going commando in flannel pajama pants. he passes your side of the table, tugging at your ponytail.

tim seats himself across from you, shooting you a sleepy smirk. dark circles ring his eyes, his hair tousled.

“good morning,” he says, his voice deep and thick with sleep. butterflies play tag in your large intestine as you and the table return the greeting.

tim raises an eyebrow, the bacon plate in his outstretched hands. you nod eagerly, and he chuckles quietly at the look on your face. duke chatters to cass about how he hopes to even out his tan at the beach tomorrow, steph quietly talking to alfred about his dinner menu for the week.

his bare foot pokes yours, and you stretch out your legs, slotting your feet between his on the ground. he leans over the table, the epitome of innocence as he shovels food into his mouth.

the day is mellow, one spent to laugh and chat with new friends, to twine your fingers into tim’s hair and scratch.

you’re given a tour of the small town, tim buying you your favorite flavor of saltwater taffy at the candy store, a souvenir necklace, the deep blue pendant made of seaglass. the way it catches the light reminds you of his eyes.

later, bruce wayne and his eldest son, dick grayson, arrive. cass notices the rumble of the engine first, starting the charge into the house with her siblings following. tim stretches out a hand for you to grab, leading you in.

“hello, hello!” dick says, gathering his siblings into a big group hug.

he brushes away your hand when you try to shake his, pulling you into a quick hug as well.

“you must be here with tim,” dick says, his eyes twinkling and full of warmth. “welcome to the family!”

“what do y’all think..family game night?” duke asks, holding open a cupboard door, revealing stacks and stacks of board games.

“not monopoly, though!” steph shouts. “bruce is way too good at that one.”

“i beat him last time we played,” tim whispers into your ear, the smirk on his lips clear in his voice.

he wins a game of uno, folds quickly in the following game of poker, salt water taffy as the chips. the wrapper crinkles as he pushes the candy out into his mouth, tucking the trash into his pocket. the hollowing of his cheeks as he sucks at the candy shouldn’t be as erotic as it is.

steph rolls her eyes, pulling her pile of taffy away from him.

“you always give up so early.” she says, tim’s eyebrow raising in response.

“what’s it to you,” he replies, crossing his arms. cass laughs, duke chuckling under his breath.

“either way,” dick says, “i’m gonna smoke you losers.”

bruce drops his hand, effectively shutting him up.

“royal flush!” duke shouts, pointing. cass’s eyebrows are touching her hair, her mouth a perfect ‘o’. steph scoffs, snatching up a taffy from her own stash to chew angrily.

tim smirks, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“you’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.”

__________________________________________

the next day

“it’s probably a crime to ignore the way you look in that suit, babe.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “too cheesy. try that on a different girl and see where it gets you. i am not the one.”

tim smirks, crossing his arms. his sun kissed biceps look back at you as he leans in.

“i’ve gotten your pants off without a word, and i can do it again.”

“shut it, drake,” you shove him, laughing.

“usually i try to open it, doll.” he replies, and you roll your eyes again, starting down the beach.

you look back, adding a sway to your hips when you see his eyes locked onto your retreating figure.

“tease!” he shouts after you.

you bask in the sunlight, sliding your sunglasses up to watch the guys toss around a football. dick throws a perfect spiral to duke, who jumps to catch it one-handed. tim tackles him into the sand, dick cackling all the while.

cass motions to you, and steph nods, stretching her long legs out onto the blanket, feet nested in the sand.

“so,” she starts, tilting her head as she looks at you. “you and tim, huh?”

you blush, nodding. cass rolls her eyes at steph, giving her a look.

“yeah, yeah.” steph says, shaking her head. “look, did he tell you about us?”

you furrow your eyebrows, tearing your eyes away from the boys by the water.

“his family? of course.” you say, unsure. cass sighs.

“no, like, me and him,” steph says, her words sending your stomach off of a 50 foot cliff.

“..no, he hasn’t.” you say, keeping your tone light.

“we used to date, that’s all. nothing special for me, or anything.” she waves her hand. “water under the bridge, for sure. definitely got closer with his family, in the long run.” cass nods approvingly, giving you a reassuring smile.

“like, i promise there’s nothing there. it was a long time ago and we realized we’re much better off broken up.”

“okay,” you say, drawing circles in the sand.

“i just wanted to make sure you knew,” she continues, as you look up. “i knew he was never going to say anything.”

you nod, leaning back onto your hands. “well, no hard feelings. i promise.”

steph gives you a firm nod in return, her lips pulling into a grin.

“i think we’ll be good friends.”

cass hands you a peach ring from the bag.

—————————————————

later,

you head upstairs to shower before dinner, tim waiting a beat before following you up the stairs.

he can barely take it, thinking about how you looked on the beach today.

he wanted to take you right there on the sand, roll around with you until he had you on top of him, hips clapping into his as you bounce on his cock.

he had to get you away, all to himself.

it was almost dinner time anyways. you two should probably work up an appetite, no?

steam envelops the room, the beat of the water on tile drowning out the soft moans that escape from your lips. your leg’s wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you, his eyes darkened with desire. tim’s barely able to hold back the rough noises leaving him, grunting as he watches the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts.

need burns through his body, sending waves of heat off of him onto you. you know he’s about to come, can see it in the furrow of his brows and stutter of his hips.

he moans into the crook of your neck as he finishes, burying his hot cum deep inside of you.

you blink and tim’s beneath you, your back pressed against the shower wall as your leg rests on his shoulder.

a rough lick across your clit has you arching away from the pristine tile, tim’s first three fingers buried inside of you, pushing his cum deeper.

he��s relentless, sucking at your clit, messily shoving his fingers farther and farther into your pulsing hole. you can’t take it, the sensation making your thighs shake, your toes curl. you throw a hand over your mouth as you cry out. and before you know it:

you’re coming onto his tongue, and he laps it up, suckling and kissing away the mixture of your fluids.

he kisses his way over your stomach, licking a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts. you grip at his back, scratching into the muscled skin. he moans from where he’s situated, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he works the other with his fingers, arousal burning ever hot between your thighs. he moves, and your resulting whine is swallowed by him as he kisses you, passion laced in his lips as his tongue dances with yours. you lean into him, arms around his neck, letting him hold you up on your shaky legs.

gathering shampoo into his hands, he lathers it into bubbles before massaging it into your scalp. you practically go limp, his long fingers working, fingernails softly scratching.

he carefully rinses out every sud, smoothing conditioner into your hair to let it sit as he grabs the soap bar.

he slides it along your skin, his flushed cheeks and swollen lips making your heartbeat pound so loudly in your ears it’s a wonder that he can’t hear it.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

dinner’s at the local lobster restaurant, their neon sign winking at you as you enter.

you’re happy: it’s not somewhere hoity-toity with seven spoons just for different courses. you know how to eat lobster, you know how to get messy.

the plate in front of you makes your mouth water. you’re famished, the butter dripping off the corn on the cob and pooling under the herb-laden lobster has you blinking in disbelief.

the rest of the table digs in, and duke watches in awe as you crack your lobster easily.

“how’re you so good at that??” he asks, jaw dropped.

you giggle, sucking the butter off of your finger, extremely aware of tim tracking the movement like he’s a wolf and you’re a bunny. funny, he does chase after you wherever you go, doesn’t he?

you beckon to duke, who hands you his plate. the shell of his lobster cracks easily for you, even with your butter-greased fingers. you slide it back over to him, bruce giving you a nod, a warm smile.

“she’s so cool, but she never has the time to do anything. trust me, i’ve asked.” dick sighs.

you ponder this, pointing your seafood pick at him.

“are you sure she’s not just saying she’s busy?” you ask, and dick’s eyes widen.

“yes, i swear. she’s got a ton going on. always, always working.” he says.

you nod, chewing on another bite of food.

“just take her lunch. on her break. find out where she likes to eat and what her order is and bring it to her. have a date at her workplace.”

duke and dick’s eyes widen in unison, and duke nods.

“dude. that’s perfect.”

“why didn’t i think of that?!” dick says, disbelief painted across his face. the face he’s making along with the plastic bib is too much for everyone, just beyond comical.

steph giggles beside you as cass snorts, the table dissolving into laughter. even tim chuckles, shaking his head.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

that night

“it’s not like he was given a month in advance, or anything.”

you can feel yourself opening and closing your mouth like a fish. A MONTH?

and he took his sweet time, too. floundering around, always looking like he needed to say something to you every time he saw you.

god, he’s so baffling!

“he—he asked me two days ago.” you’re looking at your hands, folded in your lap. you were barely even able to squeak out that sentence to her, feeling like it was some big secret or something.

“you’re his girlfriend, and he took a month to ask you to come on a family vacation? we do these every year, the date is always on the calendar..” steph’s looking at you with wide eyes, shaking her head. she looks baffled too. that’s somewhat reassuring.

a low knock sounds at your door. you look to steph, who shrugs.

“yeah?”

no reply, just tim sweeping the door open before lifting his arms to hold onto the door frame.

steph rolls her eyes, and you just look at him expectantly.

“steph, i need to talk to her.”

“..okay?”

he leans against the frame, crossing his arms. his biceps bulge, looking bigger in the low light of the lamp.

“alone?”

steph looks to you, and after you nod, gets up with a sigh.

“yeah. whatever.”

she brushes past him, and he moves quickly, the door closed and click locked behind him.

“what do you want,” you start, but he’s over to you before you can blink. his arms circle your waist, and your palms rest on his chest, smooth, like it was choreographed.

“you.” he smiles as you roll your eyes. “i missed you.”

“….uh-huh.”

he pulls you impossibly closer, looking deep into your eyes.

“you’re so cute when you’re annoyed with me.”

you try to push him off, and he relents. but instead he grabs your hands, walking back until he hits the bed, sitting. you’re standing over him now, your hands naturally going to his neck as you play with his hair. he’s been letting it grow since summer started, but you know he’ll probably want to cut it soon.

you thread your fingers into the little curling hairs at his nape, cherishing the length while he has it. you know he’ll spend a week after his trip to the family barber obsessively looking in the mirror and messing with his bangs until he’s (barely) satisfied.

“where’d you go?”

you blink, his gaze boring into yours. you feel your cheeks heat as you realize he’s been studying you as you drifted into nowhereville thinking about his haircut habits. ridiculous.

“nunya.”

he scoffs, an amused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“oh, really?”

“mmhm. yep.”

he digs his thumb into your hip, right where you’re ticklish, and you yank a little where your hand is gripped into his hair.

“okay, okay,” he holds his hands up in surrender, and seeing the opportunity, you grab them and push him onto the bed, straddling his hips.

he makes a surprised noise that has you stifling a giggle as you hold his hands above his head.

your turn.

“you think it’s sooo cuuute when i’m annoyed, huh?”

he nods, a stupid grin on his face.

“you’ve got that right.”

—————

he moans into your mouth, one that would’ve been loud, were you not tongue deep.

you roll your hips against him again. you can feel the wet spot on his boxers through your panties, and you lean back to tug him free.

his length bobs out, and he’s hard as a rock, a pearl of pre glistening on his tip. you swipe it off with your thumb and he slaps a hand to his mouth to stifle a groan. you’ve been relentless, to say the least. and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. you push his bared cock against his stomach, not bothering to remove anything but your shirt as you rock back and forth against it.

“god, fuck! fuck me,” he pants, his hands gripping into your thighs in a way that’ll no doubt bruise.

“i will if you’re good.”

“if i’m good—,”

and you know he would’ve finished his sentence in some smart-aleck way if you hadn’t leaned back, running a finger over his tip.

his exhale is a whimper, his eyes slammed closed.

you pull your panties to the side, spreading your folds over his shaft. the wet warmth of the spot between your legs has tim hissing, his hands clenched so tightly at your hips you’ll be bruised in the morning. you move your hips back, sitting up on your knees.

he looks so concerned, you giggle, the idea of you moving just devastating to him.

you grab his cock, pumping it in your hand before lining it up with your entrance. you’re so wet, so ready, that you bottom out easily. you’re not paying any attention to tim, your hands planted on his chest as you roll your hips over his, the friction sending shocks of pleasure up your body. you press tim further into the mattress, his groans mixing with the wet sound of your bodies melding together.

“tim,” you pant, and he knows immediately, starting up exactly where you stopped, his hips lifting from the bed to drive his cock deeper into you. throwing your head back, you suppress a moan feeling the way tim’s hitting that perfect spot.

__________________

tim can’t believe how good it feels to have you clench around him like that, pulling him further in. his back is damp with sweat, his skin hot against yours.

he loves having you underneath him like this, letting him pound you into the bed like you don’t have to walk around tomorrow.

your nails scratch into the soft skin of his back, the thought of bearing evidence of your pleasure makes his eyes roll back.

he whimpers into the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, the roll of his hips driving him deeper and deeper still.

but you want his attention. you need his attention. you’re not just some plaything of his.

“so i’m your girlfriend, huh?” you grit out, fingers grabbing at his chin to keep his eyes on yours.

“where’d you hear that one?” tim replies, his slanted brows becoming angry slashes on his face, the darkness exaggerating his features in an unrecognizable way.

“your family, tim.” you say, smirking when you feel his hips stutter and stop, the look on his face making you giggle. “what, like i wasn’t gonna hear about it? i’m living in your dad’s house.”

he’s opening and closing his mouth like a fish, and when he opens it again, you stick your middle and ring fingers in. his eyes widen with surprise, but he relents, sucking on your digits, swirling his tongue around them.

“now move.” you say, feeling him jump inside of you. he can act high and mighty all he wants, but he’s aching to finish just as much as you are. tim starts up again, snapping his hips into yours.

you pull your fingers out with a pop, using how wet they are to rub circles on your clit, just how you like it. tim’s eyes are huge, he’s unable to stop watching the way you’re using him for your own pleasure.

two can play at that game, can’t they?

—————————————————————————

the next day

you’d really love to be concentrating on the conversation you’re in, but that’s borderline impossible with the way tim’s playing with your clit.

his fingers pet over your lacy underwear, hidden by the long tablecloth and your dress.

you fight the urge to curl your toes in your dressy sandals, tim’s hand nothing but a hard surface to grind up against. as he chats with mr. whoever about who knows what, he’s pulling your panties to the side, sliding a finger through the gathering slick to then push it into you.

you stop breathing, thinking about the amount of people surrounding the two of you.

he’s slow, methodical, trying to make you loud while he stays quiet.

he turns his attention back to your clit, noting the way it’s making you squirm.

you turn the resulting moan into a cough, nothing tim’s smirk. asshole.

tim rubs slow circles around the little pink bud, tutting under his breath at you when you try to cross your legs. you sigh, giving him a little nod, and he continues, pulling you right to the edge just to stop. you bite back a gasp at the sudden lack of stimulation, your pulse pounding out a beat between your legs.

you’re coming around his fingers, pussy clenching as you try to pull him deeper. you feel heat creeping up your neck, burning your ears and cheeks as you fall apart for him in public, the noise of the party growing louder and louder in your ears. you grab your drink, gulping down the cool liquid.

he pulls his hand away, slowly, nonchalant as ever.

your pussy flutters around the lack of him, and you ache for another release, three, four. you doubt you’ll ever be truly sated when it comes to tim and the things he does to you.

he grabs his glass, spilling a little on his fingers. without so much as a glance to you, he sucks the liquid off of his middle digit, the one still warm from being inside of you.

“well, montgomery, i think that if you continue to build your portfolio in such a way, it'll cause financial ruin down the road. i suggest you have it sent to my father’s assistant at wayne enterprises and i’ll take a look at it for you, find you some new stock.”

mr. montgomery nods at tim’s suggestion, obviously trying to suppress how eager he is at the chance to have timothy drake-wayne look at his poor attempts at investing.

ice clinks in glasses as soft music floats over the garden from the band in the corner, string lights twinkling overhead.

his arms cross over your lower back, guiding you to sway along to the beat as you rest your head on his shoulder, your arms circling his neck.

the spot between your thighs still aches from where his hand was, where his fingers had been pushed deep inside of you.

you know you’re being watched, a sweet smile plastered to your face as the select few members of the press allowed in snap shots of you and tim.

you can still feel your pulse down there, and you pull ever closer to tim. you feel his already hard cock react, twitching from where it’s pressed between your bodies.

haven’t even touched him, but he’s walking around with his need for you obvious. you’re shocked he hasn’t pulled you into an empty bedroom yet.

probably too much press present.

the song ends, and tim breaks the embrace, those on the dancefloor clapping politely for the band.

he leads you off to the side, saying he’s going to grab something to drink. you nod, feeling eyes on you, trying to not look like you’re shrinking into the corner, but trying to shrink into the corner.

you’re in all white, pristine linen that feels dirty from being pressed up against tim like that in front of press, bruce’s friends, his family.

it’s been awhile now, and the crowd’s cleared away from the little poolside bar, no tim in sight.

“hey,” dick says, sidling up next to where you’re waiting. “you all good?”

his thick eyebrows are knitted with concern, and he’s so endearing you can’t help but want to tell him the truth.

“yeah,” you smile, watching his face relax in response. “just waiting for tim. he said he’d grab me something to drink, but..” you look around, lifting your hands as you shrug.

“well then, this is perfect.” dick says, handing you one of the champagne flutes he’s holding.

“thank you!” you gush, beaming up at him, cheeks rosy. did manners skip a generation in this family?

dick returns your smile, grabbing your elbow to pull you closer as a guest pushes by. he asks about school, interrogating you about your major.

he smirks when you talk about the mess hall food, laughs at a retelling of the time you fell down the stairs in a lecture hall, nods with fervor when you talk about protests on campus, eyes crinkling when you bemoan the way bubblegum flavored vodka smells on drunk breath. you don’t remember the last time someone paid this much attention to you, his eyes locked on yours as you talk with your hands, gesturing about with your glass.

the golden, bubbling liquid has you babbling, giggling over whatever quip dick inserts into the conversation. you realize that you’re being rude, cutting yourself off abruptly, much to dick’s surprise.

“but enough about me! what’s going on with you?” you rush out, shutting your mouth to give dick the stage.

dick chuckles, his grin like a little spotlight.

“i’ve been working for the nonprofit side of wayne enterprises recently, trying to get a feel of where we could best help gotham.” he starts, and a sense of hope rises in your chest, flutters its wings delicately against your ribcage.

“that sounds wonderful, dick!” you say, feeling yourself smiling like a dork. what a good idea. “does tim help with stuff like that?”

dick notes the hopeful tilt in your voice, the responding sinking feeling in his chest. he’s got to take the chance while he can.

“sometimes, but look—,” he starts, sighing into his glass. “tim’s not..he’s never been in a good relationship, honestly.”

you look up, confused.

“and that’s never been the fault of the other person.” he runs a hand through his hair, a little apprehensive. his eyes dart around. “that’s all i’ll say on the subject.”

your mind’s reeling, moving through thoughts at lightning speed. you can’t say you’re surprised, but can you even do better?

his face when he laughs flashes in your brain, the deep blue of his eyes, the little smile he gives you when he sees you after a long time. how he holds you, teases you. he brought you flowers on your birthday, paid for you to get your car a brand new radiator, driving you everywhere when it was in the shop getting fixed.

the forehead kisses, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the press of his lips on your neck. you’d turn the way he smells into a candle if you could, a cologne that you could spray everywhere he wasn’t.

the way he holds your hand, like he’s scared you’ll run if he lets go. the look on his face when you talk about guys in your classes, moving away from gotham after college.

and—

what would’ve happened if you’d met dick first? his blue eyes that hold a warning, contrasting with his light brown skin and his smile: one that’s easy, that he wears often.

or stephanie, tim’s ex-girlfriend? would she have warned you away? held you close to her instead, defending you as a best friend would?

or even cass, silent, and obviously endeared towards her family—it seemed as if even through her love she was able to see past the shiny teeth and empty promises tim peddled.

but you? it was too late for you. you were in much, much too deep.

tim had to run off to the bathroom. there was no other way. he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t.

he darted up the stairs, knowing the house would be completely empty. locking the door to his bathroom (the one en suite to his room) he undoes his belt with practiced speed, yanking his boxers down.

the ones he’s wearing are your favorites, the pair you steal to wear every time you sleep over. the thought sends his cock jerking, the tip red and swollen, already dripping precum. the last time he was this hard you’d been on your knees under him, and that memory alone almost has him repainting the bathroom door.

you were so ready for him, sitting next to him at dinner. so warm, and so, so wet. the feeling of you clenching around his fingers is all he can think about as he fucks his hand, bracing himself against the counter. your little gasps, the thin line your lips formed as you tried to bite back moans, all while tim was two fingers deep in your pretty pussy, curling his digits further into you. was he not supposed to react?

and then dancing afterwards, his body pressed to yours lengthwise—he’d already been hard, but was practically dizzy from how fast the rest of his blood rushed to his cock.

so that’s why he’s here, biting his lip so hard he’s probably drawing blood, harshly tugging at the length of his cock, eyes squeezed shut.

tim groans, cum covering his hand as he shudders, breathing heavily.

cleaning himself up, he hears laughter from the backyard. happy, full laughter, not the kind that most guests at the party would have. but you’re not most guests. tucking his shirt back in, he buckles his belt.

he leans over, peering down through the window pane to try and get a glimpse of who you were so animatedly talking to. he goes up on the balls of his feet, and growls.

his brother.

“getting her drunk, dick?” tim’s voice sends a chill up your spine, feeling his presence behind you. you look down at your drink, watching the bubbles float to the surface, popping when they reach the top. tiny little deaths, tiny little fireworks.

“no, just doing what you couldn’t.” dick replies, a tight-lipped smile glued to his face for onlookers.

you try to suppress the shocked expression you feel your features reaching towards, opting to take another swig. you sling an amicable smile at dick, looping your arm through tim’s as he glares at his brother.

in an attempt to ease the tension, you turn to tim.

“have you chosen your classes for next semester yet?”

“hm?” tim replies, distracted. “oh, my career consultant does that for me.” he smiles, that cheshire cat smile, and grabs your drink from you, tilting his head back as he finishes it.

“did you hear she’s planning to ask bruce for a letter of rec?” dick says, smiling warmly at you, but addressing tim.

“she..what?” tim looks at you, his eyebrows furrowing, his facial expression leaning into incredulity.

“yeah, for my international affairs internship this fall. i told you about it last month, and..” you trail off, remembering that he hadn’t seemed like he was listening then, either. “well, anyway, i figured mr. wayne would be a good person to ask, and dick agreed, so.”

you shrug, feeling like you’re shrinking by the second.

“i’ll help you, babe. good idea.” tim relents, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your temple.

looking down, you squint. what is that on tim’s shoe?

——————————————————————————

the next day

“you’re full of shit, drake,” a voice growls from the speaker of his phone. tinny, but the power behind it is evident nonetheless.

“me? i’m full of shit, todd. me.” tim spits out, body language directed at his phone like the caller is really there.

“did i stutter?”

tim scoffs, a sneer distorting his features as he delivers his next blow.

“i don’t know why i entertain this. you. one push of the button and you’re dead to me.”

“that was low, drake, but i can’t say i expected anything else.”

“hmph.” tim’s scrubbing his hands over his face, through his hair.

“but this shit? stop being such an asshole. i know that’s almost impossible for you,” the voice continues. “but this poor girl doesn’t deserve it. i have half a mind to pay her fucking college tuition. in your name, mind you.”

tim’s rendered speechless, opening and closing his mouth. the voice chuckles.

“you want me to stop selling to your ‘frat bros’?” the speaker says, the end of his sentence dripping in sarcasm.

“i think i made that plenty clear,” tim says, words being grit out from behind his teeth.

“so stop being a shithead.”

tim’s fist clenches, and he almost hangs up.

“still don’t see what the fuck this’s got to do with her.” he says.

“you don’t need to see anything. i’m trying to keep the people of gotham safe.”

“..by selling them drugs?” tim laughs, sounding a little crazy.

“mmph, well. if that’s how you want to phrase it, then yes.”

the call disconnects, and tim tosses his phone on his bed, a little too harshly.

_________________

“let’s go.” tim snarls, pulling you into your room from the hallway. his grip on your hand loosens when he notices how wide your eyes are.

he’s wearing that look on his face where he wants to yell but won’t. the resulting silence is usually worse than if he’d just do it.

“is everything okay?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

his response is a jerky nod, grabbing your things from the dresser to toss into your open suitcase on the floor.

“can you at least fold them?” you plead, and he glances at you. you’re smirking, but it falters when you see the cold fury in his eyes.

you push the door closed, locking it before coming to stand right in front of him.

his eyes widen when you drop to your knees, unbuckling his belt, pulling his boxers and jeans down.

you pull at his shaft until he’s hard, cooing over his angry, red tip and cupping his balls in your hand.

kissing along the side of his cock, he threads his fingers into your hair as he watches you go down on him.

his lips are pulled tight as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth, to fuck your face. but that’s why you’re on your knees.

“let loose, drake.”

he nods, letting out a shaky sigh. you brace your hands on the top of his thighs, relaxing your throat as he slowly pushes himself deeper into your mouth.

he keeps an eye on your face, watching your reaction as he slowly starts to thrust, your cheeks hollowed as your lips stretch to fit his cock.

tears stream down your cheeks, your hair tangled into tim’s fingers as he uses your mouth to get off. he’s gentle, but his pace is still relentless, your mouth so wet and warm. the look on his face is almost pained, like it feels too good. you know he loves having control like this, figured it would be the quickest way to calm him down, tire him out too much to be angry without actually dropping your pants.

you look up at him, holding eye contact as he watches you bury your nose into the tuft of curls at the base of his cock. one last push of his hips, and you know he’s done, informed by months of experience at the way his stomach muscles tighten and he throws his head back.

a groan escapes from behind his gritted teeth, his hands gripping harder at your hair as he comes in your mouth.

white, hot ropes of cum paint the back of your throat in excess as he falls apart, your hands pumping his length to get every last drop.

he moans, eyes rolling back as you bob your head. but he stops you before you can get him worked up again, arousal rolling through his body as you let him out with a pop.

you pull his pants back up, and he buckles them, getting you on your feet and leading you to the bed where he sits you on his lap.

tim wipes your tears away, licking his thumb to smudge off runny makeup. you get a kiss on the forehead as he smooths your hair down, a kiss on the lips as he rubs your aching knees.

__________________________________

rolling down the window, you wave like a little kid to your new friends, beaming at alfred, who returns the favor with a shy smile and a raised hand.

“bye!”

“bye! see you later! bye!”

“bye cass, steph!! bye dick!! bye duke!!” you quickly pull yourself back into the car when tim tugs on your shirt, and once you’re buckled he rolls up your window.

he settles his hand onto your thigh as he makes his way down the driveway, speeding off down the road.

●

●○

●○●

●○●○

●○●○●

tim drake's fan club:

(taglist)

@dfgcbgdc @benditlikegumby93 @agent-nobody-knows @jaybunsblog @astermos-74 @ravenna-reid @borutoistrash1-blog @slut4animedilfs @nuggget-consumer-9000 @turtleturtleturtleturtleneck @hellishattempt @trashhighwaybird @sergeant-angels-trashcan @lilithskywalker @natsukicookies @flowrs-on-an-empty-windowsill @athenastar27 @timdrakeisasugardaddy @1cxndy

(also added those interested in new parts, i can remove you from the taglist, just ask!)

●○●○●

●○●○

●○●

●○

●

221 notes · View notes

youngirlfrom · 3 months ago

Text

THE WICKED DIE ALONE

ɞ Someone like Y/N Kent has to find her true self, not just with the strength of a hero, but by walking the fine line between the light and darkness within. Because at the end of the day the wicked die alone. And for Y/N to die alone means all of humanity dies with her.

| Richard Grayson x Fem!Reader | chapter 1

Warnings: bl!!d, k!lling, mental health, slightly jason todd x reader, smut, english is not my first language.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 Chapter 3

This night was not a night with bright city lights illuminating the sky as usual. Metropolis was experiencing a night when Toyman attacked the city and chaos spread to every corner. Huge robots flying in the sky, deadly machines roaming the ground and buildings lost in the light of explosions… The screams of people, the sound of concrete collapsing and the metallic growls of machines echoed in the city. This chaos was, as always, time for Superman to take action.

He was the Man of Tomorrow.

He would move faster than a bullet, but he would touch people's hearts more than a hot chocolate.

It was the symbol of truth and justice.

Superman was the hero that all children in the world met in their dreams.

And as always, he defeated his enemy and stood tall on the damaged pavements. He was a ray of hope for people, no matter how difficult their situation was, they believed that everything would be okay when they saw him. Tonight was no different.

“Thank you, Superman!” Mothers crying, fathers hugging their children tightly, people just happy to be alive… Applause and cheers were rising from every corner of the city. The sky was no longer echoing with the sounds of bombs, but with the hopeful voices of people.

But amidst the chaos, Superman heard a faint cry coming from the debris of a collapsed building. He felt his heart tighten. The sound emanating from the rubble was a sign of life beyond the concrete piles. Superman carefully moved through the debris and saw a small light. He noticed that a baby was lying under the piles of concrete, surrounded by an energy shield. The shield was a bright purple color and gave off a calming yet powerful aura around it.

Superman didn't know what to do at first. This energy was of a type unfamiliar to him. He had never encountered such a unique power before. It was as if this force was somehow alive, responding to him. The shield slowly disappeared after a while, and Superman took the baby into his arms, the baby had calmed down. A weak smile appeared on her tiny lips, and this instantly erasing Superman's dark thoughts.

Superman decided to take the baby to safety. The chaos and dangers of Metropolis were no place for such an existence. Looking at the baby sleeping quietly in his arms, he set out towards Smallville, towards his mother, Martha Kent. The fact that she looked so delicate and defenseless strengthened his protective instinct even more. But he needed to understand what this power was. Who or what was it a product of?

When he arrived in Smallville, Martha Kent had a mixture of surprise and affection on her face when she saw the baby. Clark briefly told the story to his mother and talked about the energy shield that protected the baby.

"Look at those eyes," Martha said, admiring the baby's beautiful eyes. "I've never seen such beautiful color in my life. There's something about those eyes, Clark."

"Yes," Clark replied. "There is a secret behind these eyes. What exists within them is very powerful, but I do not know what it is. I cannot leave it. If this power falls into the hands of others, the consequences could be disastrous."

Martha looked at Clark with a loving smile. "This is a big responsibility, Clark. But caring for this child is important not only for her safety, but also to shape who she will become."

Clark took a deep breath as he looked at the baby's tiny face. "I know, mom. This baby is a mystery, but it's also a miracle. I'll keep an eye on her. I'll be with her every step of the her way."

Clark took the baby in his arms and gently rocked her.

"Did you give her a name?" she asked.

Clark thought for a while. He didn't even know about her existence a few hours ago, but now this little being had taken a big place in his life. "Y/N," he said finally. "Y/N Kent."

Martha nodded in agreement. "Y/N… A beautiful name. Strong and elegant."

His smile grew a little bigger as the baby snuggled up to him like a stuffed bear. He would protect her forever. He would be with her as she took her first steps. He would hold her hand when she started school. He would stand behind her when she went on her first date. He would proudly watch her at her graduation. When she started work, he would always keep one hand on her back so that her daughter would never feel insecure. He would make her the happiest daughter in the world.

She would be the hope the world needed after him.

When little Y/N grew up, she would be faster than a flowing river and strong enough to stop a great typhoon.

Even though she was as mysterious as the dark side of the moon with her eyes, Clark Kent would make her grow up with the light inside her.

English is not my first language! So please do not hesitate to politely point out if I make a mistake.

I won't be reporting any physical characteristics for Y/N in the story, it's just as it should be. But just decided to make the color of her power purple, which is one of my favorite colors. But you can imagine any color you want, of course.

This and the next chapter will be about Y/N and her power, and later the story will begin immediately. And I will write the story in first person.

When I was little I saw my own father as Superman, I still do. I hope this story brings some happiness to those who cannot have a father like Clark, like Superman.

I love you all, see you next chapter 🩵🩵🩵

189 notes · View notes

brownsugaboba · 4 months ago

Text

brownsuga(r) writes:

—————————————————————————————

nanami kento.

(did not draw.) !!

—————————————————————————————

short reads: (3)

“The Things You do For Me.” (fluff)

🎄 Special: “Christmas With the Nanami’s”. (19+)

“You Are me, I am You.” (fluff)

long reads: (1)

“The Tension Between Us.” (fluff)

“The Tension Between Us.” (19+)

bruce wayne.

(did not draw.) !!

—————————————————————————————

short reads: (0)

long reads: (1) ongoing…

Chapter 1: “Operation Date Night.” (fluff)

Chapter 2: “Back in The Day: Simpler Times.” (fluff)

Chapter 3: “Finally at Peace.” (fluff)

Chapter 4: “Yearning for You all This Time.” (fluff)

🎄 Special: “Christmas Eve at Wayne Manor.” (19+)

163 notes · View notes

fluffy-anna · 1 year ago

Text

Made another one. All hail the Richard Grayson aka Nightwing wallpaper.

He may be a man but he's the best eldest daughter I know.

I literally love this man but he gets screwed over so many times that I kind of find it funny.

I will make more.

414 notes · View notes

wintersnwnderlnd · 28 days ago

Text

Am i thinking about starting to write Tumblr smut... yes.

Am i going to start with a Bruce wayne x sugar baby gala smut... also yes.

I totally take requests. Any (legal age) character any prompt as long as it's not morally reprehensible.

#bruce wayne #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dc batfam #dc batman #dc characters #dc comics #dc entertainment #dc extended universe #batman #batfam #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n

55 notes · View notes

fantasy-cursedkrystal · 9 months ago

Text

jason and Tim write batman fanfiction or batman ship fanfiction (maybe duke also writes fanfics of batman or he reads them)

Dick and steph read batman fanfiction damian and cass would just be confused

bruce finds out and is traumatized for life

#jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #stephaine brown #cassandra cain #damian wayne #duke thomas #batman #imagine Bruce finds out they read superbat #or batcat #because gothamites saw them and decided to share the trauma of witnessing that scene #imagine them also reading fanfic of themselves #babs would make a compilation of all fic based on genre #like she has to group it to smut angst fluff with x oc with hurt/comfort dark romance crossovers etc...#ang just look at the amount of fics there ae #she will be laughing at bruce #and bruce is extra traumatize #bruce wayne

180 notes · View notes

eslabatcat · 6 days ago

Text

DC/BatFamily writers, please help me

A while ago I read a one-shot about a fem reader who stole just to get caught by Cassandra. And since then I had an idea for a one-shot (or fanfic, maybe). A fem reader who is a jewel thief (or any other shit that gives a lot of money but doesn't lead to life in prison), and every time she goes to steal she almost gets caught by Cassandra, always barely escaping. And they hate each other, the reader hates Cass because she always almost gets caught, and Cassandra hates the reader because she can never catch that shitty little thief who makes a point of making fun of her. But besides the mutual hatred, they also feel attracted to each other (although they won't admit it, not even in their thoughts). So with all this tension and repressed hatred, Cass finally manages to capture the thief reader and what starts as an exchange of punches and insults turns into angry and somewhat aggressive sex (like BDSM, being tied up, something like that), but necessary for both parties.

If anyone is interested in making a fanfic about this, it would be interesting to develop a feeling of love and partnership between them in the chapters.

Anyway, I had this idea and would even develop it, but I don't think I have the guts to write it, and even though I love Cassandra, I don't know the character very well. I would really like to see this idea developed because I don't see many Cassandra fanfics out there (I'm hungry).

Well, the idea is there in the hands of the public for anyone interested in writing about it. Don't be afraid to abuse.

Thank you for your attention and kisses to everyone!

18 notes · View notes

spectr3inl0ve · 1 year ago

Note

craddle robber!bruce when your parents knew you date him they thought he's just another older white guy that'll take advantage of you but you're actually love everything about him (even if you're the same age as his adopted siblings) (especially cassandra as i am also asian i probably befriend my same age future daughter-in-law)

FORREAL LIKE THE PARENTS SUSPECTING THAT CRADLE ROBBER!BRUCE WAYNE IS GONNA TAKE ADVANTAGE??? But they don't realise how much he truly cares about and loves reader until they see it for themselves jdjrkeifj!!! and the thing abt cass AAAAH yesyes I think in general reader would try to have a good relationship w bruces army of children. since cass is more of a quiet person (from what I've seen so far I could be wrong 🤷‍♀️) ur relationship w her would be more of a presence thing ykwim???? like u guys could just be sitting on the couch together, saying only a few words while doing ur own thing and it'd count as quality time

#°○☆spectr3inl0ve #cradle robber!bruce wayne #monty loves dc #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne headcanon #bruce wayne x reader #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #cassandra cain x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n

130 notes · View notes

girlkisser13 · 10 months ago

Text

cassandra cain masterlist

* indicates smut

headcanons

dating cassandra cain would include

nsfw headcanons *

cassandra cain x queen fem!reader

imagines

drabbles

21 notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 4 months ago

Text

before the bell rings (a loving family, an unpalatable desire spin-off)

ft. romatic yandere bruce wayne x gn reader x platonic yandere batfam.

tw: slight nsfw. bruce watches and kisses you while you sleep. in no way, shape or form do i condone this behavior irl.

ihave a raging headache but i don't care because i love making spin-offs of my original series'. and now i've been thinking of something related to a loving family, an unpalatable desire where just like again &. again being the opposite of like him, in this current universe i'm writing about;

you're much too loved by your husband, bruce wayne.

there are eyes everywhere when you two have been into the first stages of your marriage. he may have proposed to you for the sake and promises of protection both your families agreed upon from when martha and thomas and alive— your relationship must've been purely transactional during your childhood; but in the process of knowing you better during the planning for your wedding, in the process of grief and accepting his parents' deaths, a broken childhood and cold glances—

bruce came to love the comfort and warmth you offered him.

the entire time he was convinced that your marriage will be all but a distant relationship all throughout planning for possible venues, cake designs, guests and attires; a task he chose to uphold for the sake of your preference of a picture perfect wedding and his reputation to keep in public.

it was all that, mere promises to maintain cordiality.

there would be no affectionate touches, or the need for intimacy during both your honeymoon stages. he respects your boundaries, and you do with his privacy. after the entire wedding, everything will return to normal; with the added fact that you'd simply be living in his mansion with no qualms to bother him whatsoever.

those were unsaid agreements that you yourself knew to abide by. you were never close with the man you'd be married with during childhood, after all. for him, you must've been a checklist for him to fulfill his parents' will; there was no love before or after his grief, not even when you'd attend the funeral and expressed your apologies for the loss— his eyebrows furrowing at your shorter form, but never quite looking at you.

younger you knew it was the protection that will be granted, and never the love you wanted, but you still held on to that flicker of hope that somehow, someday you'll eventually form an amicable bond with your soon-to-be husband.

yet to you, he was the only ticket way out of your abusive home life, one filled with not only coldness, but sharp glares from a mother who never wanted you and painful beatings from a father who criticizes his own child's every mistake, each hit more painful than the last.

as much as you desire something more homely from your soon to be husband, you've long since accepted that your life will never be filled with visceral love that eats you up, love whose hands tangle upon your hair not out of sheer hatred but desire, love whose strong arms raise you up in the air rather than raises itself up to hit you.

and as you both prepare for your wedding, an air of awkwardness and discomfort was expected. backs turned, never facing each other, your eyes never quite looking at his, and unwanted brushes of each other's bodies bumping into each other translates itself to tension and mere desire to get over the plans just as quickly.

bruce tells himself, it will all be over soon. this is necessary to keep up facades and earn more connections. he hasn't been as close with childhood friends after his parents' death, hence why he was too ruffled to properly communicate with his partner after years of isolation from peers. he knows you know to understand that fact.

you tell yourself that as much as your heart aches at the impending doom that you wouldn't be able to spend time with your husband as much after the entire fiasco of dealing with wedding arrangements, with wayne enterprises and hundreds of other duties to fulfill— you've nothing to do but embrace that mere fact.

so it was all that.

bruce will never love you as much as you force yourself to love each and every flawed part of him. the first steps of planning your marriage already reflected what would soon be the damning years of a loveless courtship.

love is painful, loving bruce will be painful. your heart will never flutter at the meaningless bouquet of flowers he'd gift you, or jewelry that was never your preference, all because you both knew it was a necessary farce to make things prettier on the outside. bruce can never learn to love again after the heartbreak of losing two of his loved ones.

all that.

yet the longer you two spend time in the same room in stuffy outfit fittings and bakeries whose warmth both your loves you thought would never quite reach— the more bruce notices the slight quirk of your lips every time he guessed your favorite color or design, the gleam in your eyes glowing brighter at him choosing what he thought would be the perfect confectionaries for reception, and the tiny claps and soft tugs at the cuffs of his sleeve the more he chooses to accommodate each and every preference of yours.

he starts to fall, not out of hindsight. he was never an obvious man, no.

but he fell in love, either way.

with your habits, the way your hands gesture your excitement, and the shy grin you show his way whenever he pursues physical affection to you in both private and public; with you melting into his once stiff chest and ridged shoulders, hands wrapped around your waist, head slowly nuzzling into the crown of your hair. sometimes he'd be brave enough to caress your hips and run his fingers through the flesh between your neck and shoulders.

every damn time he takes a newer risk, every time, you'd be left shocked, yet never pushing away at his ministration.

a surprise that rewires your perception of him in your mind— not less pleasant nonetheless.

he falls in love whenever his heart beats faster— a feeling he thought he'd never come across after years of hardened training— at the way you buzz every time he proposes you two go out on dates, at your unheard gasps whenever he actually gives you bouquets of your favorite flowers as gifts, at your incoherent mumbles as you two walk through the farmer's market with his body shielding you from stalking paparazzi's and countless of admires; your mouth forming words, brows furrowed, oblivious at bruce's unwavering gaze and arms ready to rest upon your shoulders as if he never once hesitated to touch you.

and he soon realizes that he begins to yearn sleeping in the same room as you. you still stay at your home at the time being, only to be housed at his right after your marriage— but bruce loses sleep all the same. at thoughts of what you would feel like all pressed up against him, the warmth that emanates off your body every time your arms would explore his chest, and how he'd wake up to your wide, intoxicating smile, calling him, bruce wayne, your husband as you caress him and tell him breakfast is ready.

he could picture you sitting beside him, your arms unknowingly on his thighs because you crave physical affection, your attention on both your children, chattering with them as if you were always their parent. he sees you scolding damian for sneaking food under the table for his, telling jason and tim off for arguing yet again, whilst dick laughs at his brother's clumsy way of eating with barbara rebuking his statements. you'll always be the first person cass would talk to about her ballet recitals, the one duke chides for advice about which club to choose, and steph's first choice every time she stumbles upon drama.

the entire atmosphere would be spontaneous. there could be small fights, little debates and sometimes even tension, yet they listen to you nevertheless. at your pretty voice giving them an earful altogether whilst bruce would worship you with his hungry eyes, forgetting the breakfast on his plate just to hold himself back from the urge to pepper kisses on you in front of the family.

the perfect dream, like a gomez to his morticia who admires every side of them. their beauty, their sadness, anger and flaws. you complete him, he only realizes at such a late time.

just as quick as he imagines those fantasies, bruce would find himself stalking through the confines of your family home as batman; confirming to himself your breathing patterns, the flutter of your eyes, soft mumbles, and your tight hold on one of your pillows, wishing it was him instead. there, he takes in the state of your room: the decor, your wallpapers, each and every trinkets and hobbies you've collected all over the years; and most importantly, just how small and confined your room is, yet cozy at the same time.

the manor would be your castle soon enough, and he promises that it would feel as homely as your previous room. he promises that you wouldn't be sleeping alone eventually. you'll be so loved... so cared for. he'll learn to properly love you, how to touch you in all the ways he could imagine, to kiss parts left neglected, to satiate the hunger watching you every damn time.

every night, he gains newer information about you as you sleep oblivious to the presence looming above you. every night, he notes the texture of your bedsheet, the blankets that hug at your body tightly, the pillows you drool on and the softness of your mattress.

he'd ruffle your hair, and begin to trudge closer and closer to you, to the point his confidence would be at an all time high and he'd be breathing the same pattern as you, body nearly pressed atop yours as his hands tangle itself upon your messy hair. bruce watches your skin bathe in the moonlight's glow, he admires the slow rise and fall of your chest and the delicious peaks of skin from the fabric that threatens to fall.

his desire only grows stronger, his willpower grows weaker all the same.

and at a time of momentary weakness, at the passion that drips off his body merely watching you, at the unsated hunger and moments of restricting himself from touching you too much during your times together— he kisses you while still sleeping, deeply and unregretful at his choice. devouring your lips, wishing he could instead feel his tongue pressing against yours, and licking at the drool that escapes from his relentless kisses. his hands would be on either side of your head, but his thighs pin your waist, heavy and unrelenting on moving from its position.

when he lets go, he laps at his lips for any remaining taste of you, hardwiring the memory into the deepest, most sinful parts of his brain, and admires your beauty from up close. bruce watches just how angelic you look sprawled atop a bed that soon would be big enough to fit two, he sees the smile slowly forming on your face, and the giggles that erupt all while you still remain asleep.

you must've been dreaming something pleasant. he hopes that it is him, he hopes that it would be him lavishing you in his love.

and he'll be coming back home right after pecking your lips and cheeks one last time, before leaving your room, to sleep in his bed all alone after a night of a passionate endeavor. he'll be dreaming of a night with you, every night with you in fact. of your pleasured closed-eyed smile in bed and arms that reach to wrap around his body like you do your pillows. he'll cover you like a blanket with his warmth, too.

and you'll always be in his mind, even as he wakes up every morning after another day of sleepless patrol, without you by his side, without your body pressed tightly against his, without the feeling of your plush skin on his scarred one, or the melody of your snores and flutter of your eyes at the light that hits it; bruce would never be satisfied.

in fact, he begins to crave for more as he touches his lips, remembers how easily pinned you are, how fitting your body is wrapped around his. he realizes that mere fantasies would only serve as distractions, he realizes that he needs the real thing.

soon, he'll invite you to the manor, all in his own accord, without hesitation or implications that it was all for mere planning.

there you would be, shy and modestly greeting his children. bruce notices the way your finger shivers, and the barely concealed smile that makes it way to your face when you finally meet your soon-to-be family, your soon-to-be children.

unaware, oblivious to the night he took your first-kiss. he knows it is your first kiss, you've written it in a journal of yours that you're saving it for whoever is your future husband— it's only right that he prides himself in the fact that he is your fiance.

he notices how well you fit in the manor, how you're such a perfect match to the neverending energy of adrenaline to fight and to patrol, acting as a mediator, a peacemaker to the hustle and bustle of spontaneous fights and arguments that alfred used to deal with alone. and his children—?

god, his children love you.

after first impressions, after you spend time coddling beside your fiance, talking to each and every one of them with a fond smile; acting as if they're all already your children without any second thoughts, never forcing yourself into their lives or invading private topics or inside jokes like the other suitors interested in bruce who visited; after you leave the manor despite their insistence that you stay—

all of them took it in their hands to help you both prepare for the wedding arrangements; damian made a comment to push for the wedding date to be way earlier. dick says he'd be in charge of the music, steph butts in saying she knows how to play the piano, cass opens up about performing a ballet piece during the wedding, duke suggests alfred should be handling the food, barbara says she has connections with entertainment factions, tim states matterof fact that he will be organizing the entire schedule, even jason insists on attending, just simply disguised amongst the background.

it would've been a marriage where it's only your side of the family who attend, an agreement you both settled for in the earlier stages of planning, but...

if the family loves you so much at just a first impression then...

bruce wayne loves his spouse even more.

and you, being the hopeless romantic you ever are, craving intimacy at such a young age from the lack of it, took the bait and fell into his controlling hold when you've still had the chance to back out.

after all, what is love without sacrifices?

soon enough, what once were lingering, unsure touches would be bruce holding you tightly against his chest like you two were puzzle pieces fit perfectly together. he was never the type to compliment through words, but every time you wear your favorite shade or those that matches his suit colors every time you both go out for outings, his bright blue, yet dull eyes would glimmer in the sunlight, taking in your entire form. he'll kiss you for what feels longer than half a minute, and sometimes even pin you down against the mahogany door of the office if it meant he was that pleased.

you love the attention, you bask at just how easy it is to love his children. even if their personalities contrast, even through the fights they sometimes have in front of you; none ever lash out at you for breaking it up, even the youngest, damian, who would always be the most violent amongst the siblings.

hell, he'd always be the most possessive, the most demanding of your attention for whenever you stray too close to his other siblings. always glaring, always picking up fights and insulting everyone, but never directing anything at you, even threatening to bite those who dare touch any gifts you give him.

yet you love them, either way, and you've come to love bruce, too. at the most unexpected of times, even. you love it when his touches linger a bit longer, you buzz with joy every time he'd hide your face from paparazzi and hold you tighter, never once letting a hand stray far away from your body, always having you in his arms just like how your perfect fantasies would always play in your head.

and even if you're still unaware of bruce's identity of being batman, the same hero you used to fear, you still insist on kissing bruce's scars that he always comes home with every night after patrol. you let yourself become a treasure he worships, you allow him to kiss you, defile you, and never once let you out alone anymore— your occasional manor visits before your marriage turned into countless of nights spent under a roof with people you thought you'd never be... that closely intimate with.

it is only before the wedding bell rings that bruce falls in love with you, and it would soon be after that you realize just how trapped you truly are.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: after this, i will return to hibernation. and if anybody asks, yes, superman wanting to smash you in this au is still canon. and yes, he will find a way to persuade you in smashing him.

taglist: @donnaaurelia, @prince-nikko, @neerathebrightstar (i hope u like this :))), @mr-celestial-writings, @glasscurrents, @sh4rk-k1d, @vellichor-and-hiraeth, @sammytheotakunerd.

2K notes · View notes

wicckeddreamss · 25 days ago

Text

why is there so much smut about batboys but nothing for the girls? they deserve some love and appreciation too :( There has to be people than want to fuck Barbara Gordon too, surely?

#me for example #i am on my hands and knees for her #tell me what you want beautiful #and i'll give it to you #smut #wlw #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #cassandra cain

14 notes · View notes

youngirlfrom · 2 months ago

Text

THE WICKED DIE ALONE

| Richard Grayson x Fem!Reader | chapter 3

Warnings: bl!!d, k!lling, mental health, slightly jason todd x reader, smut, english is not my first language.

Chapter 3 | chapter 2 , chapter 1

The bright lights of Metropolis disappeared behind her shrinking one by one. While the whole city was asleep, a storm was raging inside Y/N. The effect of this dream echoing in her chest would not dissipate.

Seeing Dick's dream… Witnessing his greatest pain, his darkest moment, even if unintentionally…

This was a limit she could not cross. It gave her a great conflict within herself: She wanted to tell him everything, share his burden, but at the same time she knew that she was violating Dick's privacy. She couldn't forgive herself for this.

Y/N had never told anyone about her dreams except her family. How could he say that anyway? How could she tell Damian that she saw his most private moments when he was just starting to respect her?

The clouds hanging over the city skyline were gloomy, befitting the Blüdhaven atmosphere. Blüdhaven was not as gloomy as Gotham, but it still contained a loneliness in the shadows of the seedy streets of the city.

Dick always say this city was worth fighting for. According to him, the city held hope because people were essentially good inside them. Bad men, especially corrupt police, were destroying this city.

Even at this time of night, Y/N was sure Dick would be on patrol. He was always working. He was giving his whole self for the city, for the people.

When she arrived at Blüdhaven, she immediately noticed a figure moving in the shadows. His eyes and movements were familiar. It was a fast, agile and deadly dance as always. But Y/N had known him for a very long time. There was fatigue behind these movements.

Instead of going directly there, she first hovered over the city for a bit. Maybe she should have given up.

But she couldn't.

When Dick stood on the roof of a tall building and started watching something carefully, Y/N slowly descended to the roof.

Y/N said with a slight smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at those broad shoulders of Dick. "You look tired, Grayson."

Dick "Fuck!" he shouted loudly and reflexively quickly took out his escrima sticks. But when he looked at the owner of the voice, the expression on his face was mixed with surprise and concern. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"

Y/N paused for a moment before answering. She averted her eyes and bit her lips. Dick knew immediately that something was wrong, so he tried to warm things up as he took a few steps closer to her. "Are you tired of patrolling Metropolis?"

Y/N smiled slightly, but there was still a shadow in her eyes. "I needed to take a breather," she said, sounding more tired than usual.

Studying her face, Dick wondered if she ever slept. The under eyes had become more prominent. "Are you just here to breathe, or did something else happen?"

Y/N stole a glance. "I thought I could help lower Blüdhaven's crime rate a little."

Dick tilted his head. "You know me, Y/N. I can tell when you're hiding something." Y/N hated how good he was at reading people.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling how the wind cooled the night. For a moment she wanted to tell everything. Dick's past, that terrible night she dreamed of, the pain he experienced as a child… But she couldn't do it. Because if she told, it might shake Dick's trust in her. It was as if she had witnessed his most intimate moments and deepest pain.

"It's no big deal," she said finally.

Dick gently held her chin and made her look at him. "I know something happened." He whispered. "Tell me."

That voice… Should Y/N melt into that soft touch or his voice? It was already hard not to throw herself into his arms.

Y/N looked away. "It's quieter here. Sometimes… it's easier to be alone."

Dick continued to look at her face. "But you don't want to be alone, do you?"

Y/N paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and spoke. "Sometimes you don't realize how the past catches up with you, right? You have a dream or a moment comes and everything piles up on you."

Dick remained silent but then ask. "Did you dream? Was it like some kind of nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Dick noticed how difficult she was talking. He decided that this was not something that could be handled on the roof and he gripped her waist tightly.

Y/N jumped from the sudden contact. "What are you doing?" Before she could say it, she was interrupted by Dick jumping off the roof.

"I'm taking you home."

"You know I can fly, right?" She asked and didn't bother suppressing her laughter when Dick leapt into another building with her.

"You can't deny that you didn't enjoy this." Said Dick as he matched her laughter. "Besides, you don't know where I live."

Instead of paying attention to what he was saying, Y/N was too busy having fun with Dick taking her from rooftop to rooftop. It was like flying on his father's back when he was little.

And soon the dick stopped in front of an apartment. Y/N had wished the little excursion had lasted a little longer but she didn't comment. "Do you live here?"

Dick nodded before encouraging her to walk ahead. "After you, ma'am."

Y/N felt her heart warming at Dick's efforts to comfort her and walked through the door he opened. When she entered, she was greeted with dim lights and deep silence. Dick's house was worse than she thought.

The air in the house was heavy, as if he had been trapped in loneliness for years. The dim light surrounded the room like a ghost; The middle of the hall was collapsed, sheets were scattered everywhere, there were a few old photographs hanging on the walls, coffee mugs thrown in a corner and scattered documents. Dick was using the place not as a home, but as a shelter.

"Do you live here?" she asked, shocked.

Dick sheepishly put his hand behind his neck. "I know it's a bit messy."

He laughed when he saw Y/N continuing to look at him in shock. "What is that face?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "This is more than a little messy. Does a ghost live here or is it Dick Grayson?"

Dick smiled. "I spend my nights chasing criminals on the street, keeping the house in order is not really my priority."

Y/N rolled her eyes again and snapped her fingers. Purple energy swirled in the air like a whirlpool, and the items began to gather themselves together. The sofa was straightened, the coffee mugs floated into the kitchen, the mess on the floor settled into place. In a few seconds, the room was completely transformed.

Dick watched, fascinated. "Thats amazing."

Y/N glared at him. "Seriously, you could try harder."

"Please forgive me, ma'am, I will make this place spotless until your next visit." he said, leaning down. Looks like he was on his showmanship personality tonight.

Just as she was about to sit on the sofa, a dog barking echoed in the house.

"My god!" Y/N shouted and ran towards the dog. "You had a dog?"

"It's only been a week. I saved her from the thugs on the street. I call her Haley, but she probably won't stay here."

Y/N looked at him mockingly. "We both know that this is her home now." she said, sitting on the sofa with the little dog on her lap. Dick got up to change, leaving the two of them on the couch.

Haley closed her eyes after smelling Y/N's hand. She made a slight growling sound, a sign of comfort and trust. Y/N felt her heart soften for a moment. It felt oddly warming for Dick to have someone greet him like that when he came home. She didn't want him to live alone in this empty place.

She sighed as she continued to pet the little dog. "Man I miss Krypto."

When Dick returned a few minutes later after changing his clothes, he smiled slightly when he saw Y/N with the dog. "I think you're more attached to her than I am."

"I love animals." she said and smiled as if she had just thought of it. "Did you know Damian adopted another dog?"

Dick frowned in horror. "How many animals does he have?"

Y/N shrugged. "I stopped counting after those two cows." When she said that, they both laughed.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Do you have coffee?"

"If you think I'm going to make you drink coffee, you're wrong. You look like the Corpse Bride with those eyes." When he said Haley barked as if to confirm him.

"I haven't been able to sleep lately." she muttered as she settled further into the couch. After pouring water for the tea, Dick sat down next to her on the sofa.

"Are you having a nightmare?" he asked to understand her.

"Stuff like that." When she said that, they both fell silent. Y/N looked at Dick as she hugged the tiny being in her arms. She tried not to get flustered while those deep blue eyes were watching her from the beginning. She felt somehow at peace when she was around him. At that moment, she remembered why she had come here from Metropolis.

One of Dick's fingers, roaming Haley's torso, made contact with Y/N's hand. "Is it your dreams that brought you here?"

Y/N nodded. She felt like a little child. She moved his pinky finger towards Dick's pinky finger. "My dreams are not my own." she muttered.

The way Dick looked at her encouraged her, so she continued. She had come this far, whatever was going to happen, happened. "I can see other people's worst nightmares. Or someone's death."

Dick's expression changed as he tried to fully digest the words. The surprise on his face was replaced by deep thought. His ocean blue eyes were locked on Y/N's face; He was analyzing, trying to understand.

This was something he didn't know. He had heard a lot about Y/N's abilities. She could keep a collapsed building standing. By surrounding her body with a wave of energy, she could block all bullets. But this… this was something completely different.

"Other people's nightmares?" he repeated, his voice low and careful.

Y/N pressed her lips together, suddenly realizing that talking about this topic she had brought up was harder than she expected. Having Dick look at her so intently made her feel a little more vulnerable.

"Yes," She murmured. "It's not just dreams. Past… Future… I don't even know how it works. It just happens."

A muscle moved in Dick's face. “That's why you're here.”

Y/N looked away. She sighed as she ran her fingers through Haley's soft fur. "Yes," she said at last. "Tonight… I saw you."

Dick's body tensed involuntarily. Even at that moment, he was trying to control his reaction, but Y/N knew him enough to notice.

"Me?"

Y/N nodded. "When you were a child… That night."

Dick's pupils narrowed. That night. When that night was mentioned, everyone knew which night they were talking about. In a public arena, in the middle of Gotham's most famous circus, the night that changed Dick Grayson's life forever…

When Y/N saw that he wasn't saying anything, she continued. "I don't know if I should tell you this. I just…wanted you to know that. Because I care about you."

Dick's eyes were fixed on her, but the storm inside his was clearly evident. The first Robin, who grew up alongside Batman years ago, became one of the strongest heroes, but some wounds never healed.

There was silence for a while. Y/N waited for him to say anything, but Dick just turned his face away. He remained completely silent for a few seconds, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Y/N sighed, "If you don't want to talk about it—"

"What kind of dream was it?"

Dick's voice was softer than she expected. When Y/N looked at him, she could see that Dick was still reliving that night in his mind. So she couldn't lie to him.

"There was blood," she said slowly. "Voices… The screams of the crowd… But I remember you the most."

Dick's jaw tightened but he said nothing.

"You were standing in the middle of the stage," Y/N continued, her voice trailing off. "Your legs were shaking, your eyes were fixed on the lifeless bodies of your mother and father. And then, a voice…"

Dick tilted his head slightly, as if reliving that moment in his head.

"When I saw that…I understood you," Y/N sighed. "Why you are who you are… Why you fight for Blüdhaven, every night, every time."

Dick didn't speak for a long time. Y/N realized that he didn't know how to process this. Maybe it was too much. Maybe she should never have told him.

Dick turned to her. "That's why you looked sad," He said with a slight smile. "For me."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm sorry for you, Grayson. You are my…"

Her sentence hung in the air. Y/N didn't know what to say. Dick tilted his head as if he understood what she was trying to say.

But then Dick bowed his head and laughed quietly.

"What?" Y/N asked in surprise.

Dick shook his head. "For you to feel guilty about something like that… It's just like your thing."

The familiar smile on Dick's face was back, but this time there was sadness in it. He stared at her for a few seconds, then pulled Y/N close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

As Y/N felt the warmth of Dick's shoulder, she realized that the storm inside her was slowly calming down. She had finally shared this secret that she had kept inside her for so long, and what she feared had not happened. Dick didn't shut her out, didn't get angry, didn't even run away. Instead, he accepted her existence and chose to get closer to her.

As the silence dragged on, even Haley continued to sleep silently in Y/N's lap, as if realizing the sacredness of this moment. Y/N could feel Dick's breath on his shoulder, steady and calm.

"What kind of talent is this?" murmured Dick at last. "How do you deal with this?"

Y/N smiled, but she had a bitter feeling. "I can't handle it," She admitted. "Seeing people's deepest fears, losses, pain… Feeling like I have experienced them… Sometimes I even forget who I am."

Dick lifted his head a little and looked at her. His ocean blue eyes were shining with concern. "So you didn't share this with anyone?"

Y/N shook her head. "Except for my family… No. Mom and dad know that I sometimes have nightmares, but they don't know the details. "I couldn't tell Jon because I didn't want to scare him."

Dick bowed his head slightly. "And you told me."

Y/N looked at his face. "Yes."

Dick bit his lips to keep from smiling, but eventually gave up. "This made me feel special."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Don't make this a joke, Grayson."

Dick laughed, his voice echoing around the room like a soft melody. But there was something else behind his smile; that slight resentment that he always tries to hide, but never disappears from his eyes…

"I'm serious," he said. "Thank you for telling me this."

Y/N looked at him sideways. "Didn't you find me strange?"

Dick shrugged. "I already knew you are weird. This just added another item to the list." They laughed when he said. As the night slowly passed away, Y/N could feel her eyes closing.

Dick's smile softened a bit when he noticed Y/N's eyelids starting to feel heavy. Watching her fall asleep next to him like that, feeling so comfortable… it felt strangely warm inside.

Haley was curled up further in Y/N's lap, breathing peacefully. Y/N looked at Dick one last time before closing her eyes completely. Her eyes were tired, but there was a little peace in them.

"You can sleep," Dick said in a low voice. "You are safe here."

Y/N opened her lips to respond, but her eyes closed before the words came out. Dick watched her face for a moment. This girl, who was normally used to standing strong, was now completely defenseless and peaceful.

Dick slowly pulled the blanket from the edge of the couch and placed it over Y/N. He smiled when Haley stirred and gently brushed her tail over her little hand.

He didn't want to ruin this moment. But in the back of his mind, what Y/N had told him continued to echo.

"I can see other people's worst nightmares. Or someone's death."

This sentence stirred something inside Dick. Y/N's powers were even heavier than he expected. Witnessing people's darkest moments, feeling their pain… How could she handle this?

He couldn't wait to ask this, but not tonight. Tonight, for the first time, Y/N seemed to feel safe.

Dick slowly sat up, moving a little closer to the couch, careful not to wake Y/N. Her face was peaceful, but her pretty eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if she was still thinking about something even in her dreams.

Dick lowered his head and whispered in a low voice:

"What else have you seen, beautiful?"

Y/N stirred slightly but didn't wake up. Dick sighed and ran his fingers through her hair. No matter what, he wouldn't pressure her. She had to tell him this when she wanted to.

Just the fact that she fell asleep like that was a sign of trust in itself, right?

No matter how hard Dick resisted, fatigue eventually caught up with him. He leaned his head back against the back of the sofa, closed his eyes, and tried to quiet his mind for a moment. Y/N's steady breathing sounded like a lullaby to his ears along with the silence of the night.

There were no more patrols tonight. Tonight Blüdhaven could wait for them, for her.

Tonight Dick Grayson was more at peace than ever.

It was one of the best chapters I've ever written. I told you guys it would be worth the wait.

I love you all, see you next chapter 🩵🩵🩵

107 notes · View notes

brownsugaboba · 4 months ago

Text

title: “Chapter 4: Yearning For You, All This Time.”

december 24th, 2024.

—————————————————————————————

bruce wayne x reader.

black reader. (anyone can read but emphasis on black.)

19+ (this chapter is NOT 19+, however upcoming chapters will be.)

—————————————————————————————

the night air wrapped around them like a cool embrace as bruce and (y/n) stepped out of selina's wedding, the echoes of silence and lingering stares weighing heavily in the atmosphere. bruce had anticipated selina's behavior; his years of knowing her had taught him to expect the unexpected.

however, for you, the sharpness of selina's tongue was a bitter surprise. it was baffling to think someone who had once had love for him could turn so cruel, especially when she was now marrying someone else.

“(y/n),” bruce broke the silence, his voice steady against the backdrop of the still night. they continued their walk down the sidewalk towards his car.

you glanced up at him, a slight nod acknowledging his words. “yes?”

as they reached the car, he gently opened the door for you, releasing your hand as you slipped into the leather seat. “thank you,” you murmured, meeting his gaze with a warm, tentative, smile.

it was difficult to find the right words in the wake of the moment.

with a soft click, he closed the door and moved around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat with a quiet heaviness. the engine's purr broke the silence as he turned the key, but his thoughts were far from focusing the road.

in the solitude of the car, he replayed the earlier scene—the unexpected hostility from selina, the way it had darkened an otherwise joyful occasion. he struggled with the desire to apologize on her behalf, understanding that their past relationship had casted a shadow over you and him.

deep down, he felt the weight of guilt for the tension that had unfolded between you two.

“i’m truly sorry for how she reacted. you didn’t deserve a minute of that; not even a second,” he finally confessed, turning his head to look at you, sincerity etched across his features.

your smile remained, aware that his attempt to find the right words had taken a toll on him. “bruce—” you began, wanting to ease his burden, but he quickly interrupted.

“no, let me finish,” he compelled softly, his voice almost a whisper.

you quickly felt an urge to quiet yourself, to let him gather his thoughts, but you had to decline his offer.

“no, let me. please…” you responded, with a tone that matched his softness, making him to pause mid-sentence, a hint of amusement went across his face as he realized your determination.

“you didn’t deserve it either,” you reminded him, your gaze unwavering. “the small comments, the disrespect—you didn’t deserve any of it. neither of us did.”

“that is true, but—” he started, only for you to cut in.

“there shouldn’t be any ‘buts’ when it’s the truth,” you replied, a playful smirk taking form, watching his own smirk expand as he listened to your point. “now that we both agree, how about we finally leave this in the past?”

he regarded you thoughtfully, a small chuckle escaping him as he nodded in agreement. the interplay between the two of you filled the car, a mixture of lightheartedness and understanding.

“your sassiness truly hasn’t left at all,” he remarked as he steered the car towards the restaurant.

—————————————————————————————

upon arriving, the restaurant revealed itself—a stunning upscale building encased in floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a beautiful view of gotham’s skyline and the gentle flowing river. despite the bustling crowd, bruce’s reputation paved a way for him, and after handing the car over to valet, he took your hand in his, leading you through the entrance.

“no manor tonight?” you asked, scanning the surroundings, excitement fluttering within you at this unexpected stop.

pulling you closer to him as if to shield you from the prying eyes of strangers, his hand rested gently against your back, starting a warmth that went through your skin.

“i figured i’d treat you,” he said, motioning to the host who greeted them, his expression casual yet filled with unspoken intent.

you followed the host upstairs, bruce’s touch never leaving your back, a rope binding you together as you went deeper into a private room of comfort and quietness.

“considering my kids and i have put you through quite the few days,” he added, a playful tone to his voice.

A a chuckle escaped you, lightening the weight of the previous hours as you continued into an expansive private room. a small table for two was placed in the center, surrounded by intimate décor. floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the room in a soft glow, while bookshelves lined the walls, and a plush couch sat, allowing you to relax away from the bustling atmosphere below.

as you approached the windows, mesmerized by the glittering cityscape, bruce hung back, a warm smile spreading across his face as he admired you, his thoughts drifting to how he had felt in similar moments before.

just as the host began to retreat, bruce called him back, discussing a few details and slipping him some cash, ensuring your evening remained uninterrupted with a few surprises at the end.

the distant soft hum of piano music drifted from downstairs, fading into the walls of the private space, allowing him to gaze longer, more intently without fear of anyone else around.

he stepped closer. “i can only assume that you bring a lot of people here,” you remarked, your eyes still captured by the breathtaking skyline of gotham.

his looked at you on confusion now, a question lingering in the air between you, inviting even more curiosity than you two started with.

"and why do you assume that?" he asked, his voice low.

"the way you greeted the host downstairs... it’s clear this isn’t your first time," you continued, your eyes darting around the manor's elegant interior, searching for familiar sights.

bruce’s lips curved into a charming smile at your observation, a look of fondness crossing his features. you were still just as aware as you were all those years ago, and he couldn't help but find it cute.

"i can’t let anything past you, can i, (y/n)?" he said, pausing for effect. "but you’re wrong this time."

turning around to face him, your gaze met his. the warmth of his hand at your waist was grounding, and immediately sent your heart racing.

"am i now?" you challenged, a playful spark in your eyes.

he nodded, his smile widening slightly. "i've only been here once, and i came by myself. for the simple reason of…" he glanced toward the large windows, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the night. "the sight."

a smile broke across your face, truly understanding now.

“i think you’ve forgotten that i have kids now. too many to count,” he said teasingly, laughter dancing in your voice as you slowly slipped away from his hold.

bruce felt an unexpected pull, as he watched you leave the windows and his hands. your presence leaving him with more thoughts than before.

he moved toward your chair, pulling it out, allowing you to take your seat before gently pushing you closer to the elegantly set table.

"do you think i’ll ever meet them… officially?" you asked excitement and nervous; recalling how they had eavesdropped on your conversation with him just the other day,.

bruce chuckled softly as he settled into his own chair across from you, his striking blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that felt all-consuming, making the world around you fade away.

"absolutely," he replied, his tone confident and warm. "i think they’re planning on meeting you one way or another."

as you and bruce enjoyed the dishes you craved first, the chef entered with a large smile. he revealed two of his most finest dishes, each one a culinary masterpiece.

bruce, with a warm grin, leaned in to explain that he hadn’t requested the chef to bring up any dishes. so the action was truly unexpected and surprising.

right after you two finished, the waiter returned, collecting their empty plates with refilling their wine glasses. he exchanged a brief nod with bruce before leaving, which made you smile, a gesture that seemed as though he was planning something.

“you’ve been in gotham for a while now, haven’t you?” bruce’s voice was a smooth murmur. his gaze showed genuine curiosity, a glimmer of understanding lurking beneath it.

you nodded, fingers lightly tracing the rim of your newly filled glass, your eyes drifting to the stunning view of the gotham skyline outside, the city lights glowing like a field of stars.

“yeah,” you replied softly, the weight of years drifting behind each word. "a few years now."

bruce arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "and before that? you weren’t in town for good, were you?" he paused, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

"i assume you weren’t just here for selina’s wedding."

a smile tugged at your lips, your dimples appearing as you spoke, “no.”

as you continued, your voice fell to a whisper, yet remained steady. “i live here now. i’ve been living in gotham for… almost two years, actually. but not under my real last name.”

at that revelation, bruce's gaze sharpened, shadows of his own past creeping into his expression for a fleeting moment before he pushed them aside. “understandable, with everything that happened,” he murmured softly.

you nodded, a silence settling between you two, taking a small sip of your wine as you thought on your journey.

bruce studied your silence, though it wasn’t awkward. it was comforting. his fingers absently tracing the edge of his glass as thoughts swirled in his mind. “why did you leave, if you don’t mind me asking?”

lowering your glass back to the table, you began to swirl the rich red wine inside, gathering the courage to share more.

"you know i don’t mind with you, bruce," you reassured him. "i went to medical school, followed my father’s footsteps.”

bruce’s eyes widened slightly, the weight of your response sinking in. it was a surprise that made him anxiously uneasy, considering the tragic connotations for both of you.

"you truly are brave, (y/n)," he said, his voice laced with admiration.

you smiled softly at him, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on your features.

"sometimes," you replied, your tone steady but infused with quiet grief, "you just have to.. change yourself, even if it’s the last thing you want to do."

"i’m here because my father…" you continued, your expression growing more serious. "and gotham, is a… hard place to grow up. even harder to survive when you’re all alone. we know that more than anyone.”

bruce exhaled slowly, his gaze unwavering as he absorbed your words. he understood the weight of grief, the shadows of loss that shadowed your thoughts, for since he had walked that exact path himself. "definitely."

"but.. you can’t keep running from your past forever," you said, your voice steady but gentle.

"but you can build a future, right? that’s what I’ve been trying to do by coming back here, by going with you to selina's wedding."

as you spoke, bruce sat in silence, acutely aware of the truth in your words, the understanding only making you closer as the conversation continued.

he quickly recognizing the truth in every syllable. it was mesmerizing to see someone who had once faced the same tragedy as him, now having emotional intelligence and strength.

in this intimate setting, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and the low sound of the piano in the background, he was quickly immersed in an activity that brought you joy. there was something inspiring and hopeful about it—your resilience ignited a spark in him, urging him to embrace the life he had crafted for himself even more.

"you want to build a future—" he paused, his heart racing as he leaned closer. "with me in it?” the question was more of a statement, letting you know that he wanted the same.

you let out a soft, melodious chuckle, and your eyes sparkled with sincerity as you nodded. "starting with you, bruce, only if you'll let me."

a smile broke across bruce's face, wide and genuine, illuminating his features in a way that was rare and beautiful. "you know i can't say no to you."

as you exchanged smiles, the warmth of his words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. for a brief moment, the chaotic shadows of the outside world faded away—the lingering grief and the heavy solitude of gotham felt so far away.

here, in this room of understanding, two souls who had faced the dark and twisted realities of life and found comfort and safeness in each other's presence.

for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you sensed a shift, a belief that the city you grew up in, the city that your parents died in, might not be such a lonely place after all.

the distant hum of the party pierced through the deepness of your conversation, yet the private room remained a a space just for you two—

and you couldn’t ask for more.

—————————————————————————————

after your heartfelt exchange, the waiter reappeared, a subtle reminder of the outside world.

bruce took your hand, his grip gentle yet reassuring, as he led you out of the of the private room. together, you both made your way down to the restaurant's first floor, only to find the once-bustling floor nearly deserted.

you look back at bruce in confusion, and he offered a reassuring squeeze of your hand, encouraging you to continue following the waitress.

the kitchen greeted you both, an unexpected yet inviting space that was surprisingly intimate still. a single plate centered on the polished cleaned counter, on it rested a slice of chocolate cake beside a vibrant bouquet of pristine white roses.

you let go of bruce's hand and stepped closer, captivated by the sight.

meanwhile, bruce discreetly slipped a few extra bills to the waitress, expressing his gratitude before joining you in the kitchen's warmth.

"bruce..." you murmured softly, lifting the bouquet to admire its delicate blooms.

your gaze found his striking blue eyes—eyes that had quickly become your favorite thing to lose yourself in.

"i’m enjoying you saying my name way too much, (y/n)," he replied, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

he stepped closer, his hand resting on your hip, drawing you into the gravity of his embrace. the only barrier between you two was the bouquet, which now felt like a symbol of your shared connection.

"im enjoying your actions tonight way too much, bruce," you retorted playfully.

he gently removed a single rose from the bouquet, mindful of the thorns, and brought it to his nose to inhale its sweet fragrance before extending it toward you.

"i hope you can enjoy them more," he whispered softly.

as you closed your eyes to savor the rose's scent, bruce gently reclaimed the flowers and set them back on the counter, pulling you closer with both hands now cradling your waist in his warm hands.

the sudden intimacy definitely took you by surprise, but a smile blossomed on your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"it’s strange having you be this touchy and..."

"romantic?" he interrupted, mischief in his eyes.

you tilted your head, deciding to tease him. "i was going to say tipsy, but romantic can do."

he scoffed, a grin spreading across his face, the warmth of his laughter infectious. "you think I’m behaving like this because i’m tipsy?"

your gaze wandered to his lips, lingering on their shape and moisture, making your heart race even more than it already was.

"yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

with a teasing smirk, he slowly licked his lips, drawing your focus back to his gaze. "i can’t be in my right mind to show you how much i want you here. in my future as well?”

your pulse quickened as his eyes locked onto yours, and he leaned in closer.

"i’m not tipsy, i’m more..." he hesitated, searching for the right word, "yearning.”

“for someone that was always here."

before you could respond, his lips found yours in a gentle kiss. his lips took ahold of your bottom darker lip, as he sucked you in. while his hands on your waist pulled you in closer, and wrapping his arms fully around your back. he wanted every last bit of you in his arms, as he held you like you were going to slip away if he didn’t.

you closed your eyes with a small breath, as the kiss deepened into something more passionate, a kiss that spoke of missed opportunities and unfulfilled desires.

bruce slowly entered his tongue inside when he felt the time was right. when you let out a soft moan because of it, he knew truly how right he was.

you brought your tongue inside of him as well, tilting your head in the process until you could feel every groove of him. every breath he made, as he continued to deepen the kiss, was like a dream as you melted into his embrace.

your hands along the back of his neck, slowly moved up his dark hair and quickly got lost in his strands.

the kiss wasn’t just a normal kiss. it was a kiss that bridged the gap of time spent apart, filled with the warmth of love and understanding—one that neither of you had fully realized you were capable of sharing until that very moment.

fin.

—————————————————————————————

next chapter will be updated soon..

96 notes · View notes