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b3ach-bunn7 · 28 days ago

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READ YOUR MIND

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope

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It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room.

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new.

But for whatever reason, today it feels different.

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it.

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep.

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open.

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.”

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?”

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?”

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people.

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?”

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.”

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.”

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.”

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?”

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.”

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases.

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you. I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already.

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back.

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.”

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home.

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip.

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence.

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

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nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

#fluff #oneshot #b3ach bunn7 #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd #batfam #dc comics #dc universe #batman #jason todd x y/n #jason todd red hood #jason todd reader #red hood x reader #red hood

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percabething · 3 months ago

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when the fic has an aesthetically pleasing layout but the writing is… questionable

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dontbesoweirdkira · 3 months ago

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Just thinking about how both platonic! yan! Dick and Jason have a habit of laying on top of their batsis and crushing her.

just look at how guilty they are....

Masterlist

Requests: open

Dick is a menace. He's a full sized golden retriever who thinks he's still a puppy. When he jumps or lays on you to try to be all affectionate...he forgets that he weighs close to if not over two hundred pounds.

No matter how often you tell him he's way too big to do this, he doesn't care.

He just loves engulfing you in these full body hugs and cannot help himself. It's cute though, if you try not to think about your lungs collapsing on itself. He acts innocent by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,,,,but it's a ploy to then attack you with tickles which leads to play fighting.

I mean it's his brotherly duty to be as annoying as possible. Sometimes he just likes the fact hes stronger than you and can hold you down this easily. Rookie mistake to announce you need to use the bathroom or get ready for something when you're chilling on the couch. He will trap you until the last possible second.

As much as you complain and cry, don't mind it too much. It's nice to be apart of a real family like this and Dick is trying to show his love by playing.

Jason on the other hand is just kind of clueless about the fact he's crushing you. You're sitting on the couch and Jason comes home after a long night and sees a perfect napping spot..

You don't really want to tell him that he's wayyy too big to just plop down on you like that because it's nice that he's feeling safe enough to just do these things now.

He also is like a big dog. He does that big huff and occasional twitching in his sleep. lol

Sometimes you'll also fall asleep right with him because he's basically a human weighted blanket. You'll eventually wake to him looking up at you. It's subtle but there's a soft smile there. He's happy you feel safe too.

I like to think he desperately wants to be held sometimes but he doesn't know that he needs it or even how to ask so he just does it. You naturally wrap your arms around and rest them on him anyways. He's like a little kid when he does this. It heals something inside of him. His cold un-dead body, finally feeling an ounce of fuzzy warmth.

Do you think sometimes Jason will pull a snack or something out of his pocket. Like he lays on you but then pulls out a jolly rancher as an offering. lol. One moment he's sleeping and the next you can feel him munching on something crunchy.

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zyhkoo · 6 months ago

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♡ flowers for me? - batboys x gn!reader

fluff

you gave the batboys flowers

a/n: I have no idea how to write tim, i hope i did him justice

Jason Todd

You handed him a bouquet of roses in his hand. Jason raised his brow “What’s this?” you answered his question “Right, so when someone places a seed-“

He rolls his eyes and cuts you off “I know what they are I mean what are these for?” he asked, getting to the point. You only shrugged “Flowers, a flower shop opened beneath my apartment and I wanted to give you some.” you replied.

Jason looks at the roses and then back at you “Eh, I’m not really a flower person..” he says, a frown formed on your face.

“Yeah, my bad. I’ll just return them-“ as you were about to reach the flowers on his hand he shields them away from you.

“No, I.. I never said I didn’t want it. Plus it's red, so I like it.” he looks away from your gaze, your smile returns from your face.

“I’ll give you way more red flowers then.” you said excitedly.

“Do whatever.” though it looked like he didn’t care, deep down he felt very happy for some reason.

Dick Grayson

You handed him a bouquet of Daisies “For me?” he smiles. You nodded “I got it from my mini-garden, there were a lot so I decided to give a few to you.” you answered.

He took the bouquet and admired it “Well, this is beautiful. Thank you, I’m happy.” he smiles as he kisses your forehead, you softly smile at his gesture.

“You think you have a vase for this?” you asked, Dick stays silent. “Uh, hold on a second.” he goes through his cupboards and finds an empty pitcher.

He then goes to the sink and fills water “Give it here.” he says, you nodded and you carefully placed the daisies in. You had a little trouble inserting it at first but with a little force if fitted perfectly.

“There we go.”

Tim Drake

You were on your phone, looking around. You were on a date with Tim today and this is the meeting place you both agreed on.

“Why do you have flowers?” Tim asks, scaring you from behind “Oh, jeez!” you gasped as Tim apologizes.

“These are for you.” he squints, absolutely confused “For me?” you tilted your head “You don’t like it?” you asked.

He shook his head and took the bouquet “No no, I love it. It’s just that lovely things fit you more.” your cheeks turned pink at his statement “Well I just wanted to give you something special Tim.” you replied.

He smiles “If you say so, I’ll cherish these. Shall we go?”

discord server

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leoivys · 1 month ago

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𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff and mostly batfam stuff instead of just romance

– summary; a casually chaotic Secret Santa with the bat family as Jason's partner.

– word count; 1.5k

The roofs of the houses were beginning to gain a white hue as more snowflakes fell gracefully – the children in the city found joy in it, their laughter echoed in the streets while they initiated snowball fights with their friends and neighbors. Adults were busy shopping or grabbing a coffee to catch up in the presence of their loved ones, and the holiday music played in every street. Christmas was known for bringing even the most distant people back together.

A part of you hated how cold it was, but it was your idea to take a walk around the city with your partner before you drove over to the manor for Christmas day like you usually do. However, how can one ignore such events on these joyous days just for their own comfort?

The fuzzy feeling of the gloves around your hands and your coat enveloping you in its warmth was rather enjoyable even if the world outside was freezing while you walked with Jason. A soft sigh escaped you as you finally entered Wayne Manor, welcomed by Alfred opening the door for you and the heat that escaped the inside of the building.

Greetings, hugs, and smiles were exchanged with more excitement than usual while you took your seat on the couch in the main living room amongst the rest of the family – everything was decorated; the tree that you all helped set up, stockings on the fireplace with everyone's names engraved on the soft red fabric and no one can skip Alfred's baked goods resting on the coffee table.

It's odd thinking that a few years back, most of the family members were off doing their own thing instead of being here and spending time with everyone else like Jason avoided them for a good few years before he finally gave in. Now, everyone was present and agreed to have a Secret Santa along with the rest of the activities scheduled for that day.

Tim and Damian were surprisingly getting along, wearing matching Christmas sweaters as well, and then you noticed Dick supervising the two with a proud smile drawn on his face as he kept a conversation with Jason and Steph. Duke was helping Alfred bring in more sweets on the table. Cass and Barbara were calmly chatting with you about various topics and the one at hand; who was Secret Santa for who?

Meanwhile, Bruce observed everyone with a hint of a smile and a sigh as the place filled with chatter and the life it lacked most of the year due to responsibilities, his shoulders relaxed as he was more than happy to host this event annually and welcome his family –and those who he considered family– home.

“Alright everyone, enough of your chit chats. Let's start.” Dick stated, too excited to wait even further as he quickly moved to grab a present from under the tree and took a moment to read the name on it and handed it to Cass, and then kept handing out presents to everyone.

Each family member got something based on their personality, training, or hobby, and some presents were filled with meme cards describing them. Eager chuckles echoed in the room before Bruce interrupted.

“Who got that for Damian?” He asked in a mockingly firm tone as he pointed at the young boy swaying a katana similar to the one he had when he got trained by his grandfather in his hands. Just before anyone could answer, Barbara did everyone a favor and started playing Christmas music through the speakers set by the tree.

Jason scoffed at the sight of Bruce's dynamic with Damian – it had been a while since a youngling had given him a heart attack, enjoying the show and unwrapping his present. His hands traced the hardcover of the book as he lifted it up and read the title; ‘All the light we cannot see’ which had him confused for a moment. He had that book in his library already, didn't he? So he studied it further, flipping through the first few pages only to find that not only was it a first edition copy, but it was signed too.

His eyes flicked to you as his hands traced the sign on the delicate page of the book before he snapped the book closed with a smile brighter than the star atop the tree. Jason immediately knew that his gift was from you since he had been ranting about how much he wanted this for the past month or so. His suspicions were confirmed by the smile on your face.

It was really hard to find it online and get it signed just for him, but you knew it would be worth it.

“You didn't.” Jason mumbled, finding the fact that he had this book in his hands as he clutched onto it like it might disappear into thin air.

The known-for-his-violent-ways Red Hood was now acting like a literal child on Christmas, completely awestruck and bringing you in a tight hug as he muttered his thank you's. His attitude earned a chuckle from you, his embrace giving you even more warmth while his heart was beating out of his chest.

Duke blinked a few times. The newest addition to the family was having a hard time trying to process the sight before him. “Is Jason okay, or is he having some sort of cardiac arrest?” he managed to mutter, his gaze shifting to everyone else laughing at his question.

Your gift consisted of newly made gadgets, upgraded equipment, and a personal touch with a vintage Polaroid to top it off – definitely Tim's job.

Yet you couldn't help but be thankful for those, given Dick's situation; shirts that were literally merchandise about his butt, an eye mask for power naps, and a ‘big brother manual’ book. “Whose idea was this?” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in mock annoyance, a small smile brightening his fine features.

“That's a brilliant idea, Dick.” Jason chimed in, not bothering to hide his usual smug smirk. It was definitely him who thought of that combination as a good Christmas gift for his older brother.

Meanwhile, Barbara wasn't having it easy either, with the present in her hands containing a vintage phone and a custom Lego set of Oracle. “A Nokia? Really?” She asked, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she turned to face Steph. “You're lucky I like Lego sets, but you're stuck in this with me.” Barb threatened playfully as she set the box by her side.

Stephanie raised her hands in the air in mock surrender, she didn't seem to mind the idea of building a custom Lego set in the company of Barbara; in fact, it was a good opportunity to spend a girl's night along with you and Cass while having a chit chat – or gossiping. “It's for emergencies. And the Lego set was cute.” She explained with a shrug.

“Fine. You'll see how cute it is when you have to build this many pieces.” Barb protested, her tone lacking real bite as she pointed back at the amount of pieces written on the box. “You're all invited to our suffering.” She commented jokingly, glancing at you and Cass.

Cass perked up at the idea, “I'll bring the snacks.” She said simply, her voice soothing as ever even as it held a bit of enthusiasm as she gave Barbara a thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Dick was flipping through the pages of the manual and hastily reading the contents before he could comment on them. “Who wrote this?” He scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly, and continued reading. “...’Always take responsibility for your siblings' mess-ups.’ Really, Jason?”

Jason leaned back in his seat and shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest as an amused huff escaped him. “Merry Christmas, Dick.”

Tim studied the merch, trying his best to bite back his laughter at what his eyes met while Duke observed alongside Damian, who decided to address the situation accordingly. “That was uncalled for, even by your appallingly low standards, Todd.”

Dick sighed and shook his head once more, yet he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as he couldn't help but find the situation entertaining. “You're so getting payback next year. And I'm rigging the draw.” He stated as he tried on his nap mask with a proud smirk.

Bruce, sitting quietly by the fireplace with Alfred whom he had exchanged gifts with, took another sip of his coffee and sighed, allowing himself a small chuckle as he watched the banter unfold. He was prouder than he'd care to admit, of everyone in the room.

“Everyone, pause.” You interrupted every party in the room as you took hold of your brand-new Polaroid and held it out for a selfie, trying to make sure everyone was in the frame. “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’.” You exclaimed with pure excitement and messily snapped a picture, holding the moment forever captive.

– a/n; Merry Christmas and happy holidays in general ♡

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fluentmoviequoter · 6 months ago

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Flirty

Requested Here!

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!wife!reader (no specific characterization)

Summary: Your husband Bruce never stops flirting with you, and everyone, in Gotham and beyond, knows it.

Warnings: fluff! Batboys being Batboys

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

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A/N: Jason O'Mara's Bruce Wayne makes my heart flutter. Especially in this movie (even when he bullies Hal).

“What are they all waiting for?” Jonathan Kent asks his parents. “I thought we were here to raise money for the expansion of the school?” He lowers his voice and looks down to add, “Which is equally boring.”

“Jon, it may seem boring now, but it’s a great cause,” Lois answers, laying her hand on Jon’s shoulder. “And the people waiting…”

“Gotham’s power couple has arrived!” one of the photographers at the door yells.

“Power couple?” Jonathan repeats.

“That would be my parents,” Damian interrupts, stepping out of the shadows and to Jon’s side.

“But, they go everywhere together,” Jonathan points out. “What makes tonight special?”

“We don’t have time to answer that, pal,” Clark says before chuckling.

As Bruce walks through the crowd of paparazzi and reporters with you smiling at his side, Damian and Jon nod at one another. Damian leads Jonathan back the way he came, and they disappear.

Lois leans toward Clark, and he answers, “I know. They’re heading south of the ballroom.”

“No, I mean, yeah, I saw them leave,” Lois murmurs. “But I was going to say I give it five minutes before they start flirting.”

“You must be new here,” Dick jokes as he passes behind them. “It’s been happening since they walked in.”

Clark nods, then whispers, “Twenty bucks says they only stay for an hour.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Lois agrees. “They’ll flirt the whole time, but they’re staying for a while.”

“Lois, Clark,” you call, smiling as you separate yourself from Bruce to greet them. “I’m so glad you could make it! And I love your dress, Lois, that’s such a good color on you.”

Lois gladly accepts your offered hug, glaring at Clark over your shoulder to warn him against talking about their friendly bet again.

“Clark are you here for business or pleasure?” you ask as you step back from Lois.

“Pleasure. Bruce sent a personalized invite. Real ink and all,” Clark answers. “I must say, you’re getting pretty good at his signature.”

“Alfred is a great teacher,” you joke. “I thought you were bringing Jon?”

“We did. He’s with Damian.”

“Ah, I see. Well, if he doesn’t make another appearance before the end of the gala, I’ll bring him home in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Lois replies. “I’m glad they’re getting along.”

“They’ve come a long way,” Clark agrees.

“Like two other heroes I know,” you tease. “I have to go shake some hands with the rich and powerful of Gotham, but we should do dinner soon.”

“We should,” Lois says. “Good luck with the Gothamites.”

“I don’t think she’s the one who needs luck,” Clark interjects.

“Clark, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” you call over your shoulder.

While you approach a table of school board members, Bruce waits at your reserved table alone. His kids have disappeared, as expected, and he’s decided to wait for you.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred calls.

Bruce turns quickly, reluctantly tearing his eyes from you. You’ve been thanking the other donors and dancing with all of the children in attendance, and he has been content to watch you from his table with a smile.

“Yes, Alfred?” Bruce asks.

“Seeing as you’ve made a considerable donation to the charity, perhaps you could discuss your interest in the cause rather than ogling your wife from across the room,” Alfred suggests.

“I think my donation was sizeable enough that I can spare a few minutes to admire my beautiful date.”

“It’s been nearly thirty minutes, Master Bruce. The reporters have begun talking about you.”

“Did they ever stop?” Bruce challenges with a smile. “Yes, Alfred, I will do my duty and rub some elbows.” Bruce stands, buttons his jacket, and adds, “After I dance.”

“I expected no less,” Alfred sighs.

At the entrance, Gotham’s most notorious reporters and paparazzi wait for the gala to end to photograph the glamorous exits and exploit the unglamorous ones.

“I tried to interview Bruce Wayne, but he only talked about his wife,” a reporter laments as he returns from the gala. “Do you think Dick Grayson is still around?”

“Does he ever know why he’s here?” a cameraman points out.

Inside, your socializing smile melts into your genuine, joyful smile as Bruce returns to your side. He has a way of making every night out, every charity dinner, feel like your first date.

“Hey,” he greets, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Wow,” you drawl. “That’s the line you’re going with?”

Bruce shrugs as he explains, “I thought I’d change it up. Besides, you look so beautiful I’m having trouble remembering my usual moves.”

You chuckle, playfully slapping your hand against Bruce’s chest. “I love you.”

“I love you. Now, can I take you home and see that pretty smile for the rest of the night?”

“Tempting. Make it the rest of your life and I’m in.”

Bruce’s arm tightens around you as he turns toward the large double doors opening into the Gotham night. As you leave, over an hour before the end of the event, you don’t see Clark sigh and pass money to Lois. You know Bruce and his moves, but so does everyone else in Gotham. And the Justice League, apparently.

“Mr. Wayne, over here!” an interviewer yells.

Bruce smiles, a close-lipped greeting that would make a less-experienced group run for Metropolis. Bruce slows as he exits the Wayne Enterprises building and gestures for the interviewers and cameras to take turns rather than yell over one another.

“What can you tell us about the economic impact of the proposed Wayne Enterprises expansion?” the interviewer closest to Bruce asks.

Bruce nods at the question, but his eyes are locked on something across the street. As he recites the rehearsed stats, he never looks at the man before him or the cameras.

“What’s he looking at?” someone whispers.

“His wife is waiting across the street,” a cameraman answers. “We don’t have much time before he runs to meet her.”

“You and your wife left last night’s charity gala early,” Vicki Vale begins. “Can we trust that the board still has your support?”

“The children of Gotham have our support,” Bruce answers, fighting his growing smile as you wave to him. “Whatever group or donations we have to go through to help them, we will do it. But at the end of the day, the Gotham school board is not who my wife and I are choosing to help. It is the children. Excuse me.”

The crowd splits, creating a clear path for Bruce to reach the sidewalk before he crosses the street to greet you. You hear a few camera shutters as he hugs you, but Alfred pulls the oversized town car between you and the paparazzi before Bruce steps back. With the cameras at his back blocked, Bruce leans in and kisses you, holding eye contact before and after the kiss.

“You could’ve looked at the people you were talking to, you know,” you tease quietly.

“And miss a moment in your pretty eyes?” Bruce flirts. “As long as you’re here, you’re home, and I’m going to be looking in those windows.”

You feel your neck and cheeks warming, but Bruce holds your chin gently to keep his eyes on yours. After a moment, he releases your face to take your hand instead.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I completely forgot to tell you how radiant you look today.”

In the car, you smile and squeeze Bruce’s hand. You’ll never get used to his flirting and never stop being affected by him. Which is exactly what Bruce wants.

“Pretty and smart.” Bruce tuts and shakes his head before he adds, “It’s not fair.”

“Sure, that’s what’s not fair.”

“There’s my handsome husband,” you murmur as Bruce removes his cowl.

“And there’s my beautiful wife,” he replies, extending his arm toward you. “I missed you.”

“We were only on patrol for an hour, Father,” Damian tuts. “Perhaps you should see someone for your dependence on her.”

“Hey, kid, normal people just say, ‘get a room,’” Jason points out. “Not that the Ra’s-style monologue isn’t riveting.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, but when you take his hand, he smiles and pulls you against his side. As close as physically possible, you lean against him and watch his profile as he reviews the cameras from the night’s patrol.

“Must have been quiet if you’re back after an hour,” you muse.

“Killer Croc was taking a nap under the manhole outside Iceberg Lounge, but other than that, our usual clients seemed to be otherwise engaged,” Dick explains.

Bruce turns toward you and whispers, “And I missed you, so I rushed them a bit.”

You smile and hook your fingers in the neck of Bruce’s suit. Behind him, the boys groan and turn away. They love you, but Bruce’s constant flirting with you gets to them. You’ve been told to get a room more times than you can count in the last week alone. Damian’s monologues are a good break, you think.

“I love your outfit,” Bruce teases softly, glancing down at your worn Gotham Academy sweatpants and one of his shirts.

“I asked Alfred if he had any spandex left over, but this was the best he could do,” you respond.

“All of the spandex has been earmarked by Dick,” Jason says behind you. “Speaking of which, I need to leave.”

“How is that a segue way?” Dick questions loudly.

“We should get going, too,” Bruce tells you. He kisses your jawline and murmurs, “Or are my clothes good enough for you?”

“There’s no substitute for you,” you flirt, ignoring the faux retching sounds your boys are making behind you.

“Goodnight, boys,” you call as Bruce lifts you into a bridal carry.

“Goodnight!” they reply together.

“Try not to scare her away before morning, Father,” Damian adds.

“Where’s Ma?” Jason asks as he enters the manor. “I’m not staying if she’s not here.”

Bruce doesn’t look away from the television screen displaying the three final choices for movie night as he answers, “She’s on the second floor, heading to the stairs. She’ll be right down.”

“How does he do that?” Jason murmurs.

“He probably chipped her,” Dick answers under his breath.

“Or he’s memorized her footsteps and weight shift patterns,” Damian proposes.

“Have you?” Dick asks.

Damian shrugs and takes his place at the end of the couch, curling up to Titus for family movie night.

“I found it!” you cheer as you return. “I knew I bought more candy.”

Bruce looks up at your voice and smiles while his eyes soften. It’s a visible reaction, a happiness that blooms deep within him at your return.

“Good,” Bruce replies as you sit beside him. “Glad you’re back.”

“I was gone for two minutes,” you point out, passing Jason and Dick their favorite snacks.

“It was long enough.”

You shake your head lovingly and shift closer to Bruce when the movie begins. You’re in your home, with your kids, and sitting with the love of your life. Even when Bruce interrupts the movie to whisper compliments in your ear and draws random shapes against any exposed skin he can reach, there’s nowhere else you want to be.

“Mrs. Wayne,” a woman says as she nears you. “So odd seeing you here. And… in, well, that.”

You smile and look away from the different colored yarn. Dressed in your favorite pants and one of Bruce’s dress shirts tied up to fit you better, you are more interested in shopping at your favorite hobby store than discussing anything about your husband, love life, or style.

“Mrs. Marshall,” you reply, noticing the surprise she fails to mask when you remember her name. “This is my favorite store, and I was running low on some things.”

She hums, and two more women approach behind her, slowing when they notice you.

“Sweetheart,” Bruce murmurs behind you. He looks up from the items in his hands and adds, “Ladies.”

“Mr. Wayne,” Mrs. Marshall says, suddenly sounding breathless. “It’s wonderful to see you. I wasn’t aware that you shopped locally.”

“Yes, well, small businesses are the heart of our economy,” he agrees, his arm pressed to your back. “And, of course, my wife has hobbies, and this is the best place I’ve found to get her everything she needs.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Speaking of…” Bruce turns to you and extends his hands. “Is this the brand of hooks you were looking for?”

“Ooh, yes!” you cheer, running your fingers over one of the cases. “I don’t know if I can choose, though. I need this one-“ you point to a specific item in the set to your left – “but the other hooks have such nice grips.”

Bruce nods once and places them both in your small cart. You grip his arm in thanks and smile at him before remembering you have an audience.

“Mr. Wayne, do you have any hobbies?” one of Mrs. Marshall’s friends asks.

“I do,” he answers, rubbing his hand along your back. “But I enjoy watching my wife and her hobbies more than anything I could try.”

“That’s sweet,” Mrs. Marshall murmurs. “Well, we must be off. Perhaps we’ll see you at the next gala. Again, Mrs. Wayne, nice to see you, and what an… interesting outfit.”

You smile and watch them turn off the aisle where you stand before you turn to Bruce. “I don’t think she liked your shirt.”

“I don’t think she liked how good you look in it,” Bruce argues, placing his hands on either side of your waist.

You place your hands on his shoulders and shake your head. “Do you make them jealous on purpose?”

“I don’t do anything to or for them on purpose. You’re the only one I have the time or the eyes for.”

“Romantic.” You rise to your tiptoes and peck Bruce’s lips quickly. “Are you sure I can get both sets?”

Bruce maneuvers you to stand between him and the cart handle, then drops his chin to your shoulder. “We can buy the whole store.”

“I thought small businesses were the backbone of this city?” you tease, leaning back against him.

“The heart of the economy,” Bruce corrects. “But I’d keep the staff on.”

“Oh, well, when you say it that way.”

“I wasn’t aware that Gotham had a wildlife conservatory,” Clark says, tucked into a corner away from the gala.

“We don’t,” Bruce answers. “Apparently certain members of our city government think we need one.”

“And you support that?”

“Off the record?” Clark nods, and Bruce replies, “Not a bit.”

“Then why are we here? Why am I here?”

“You have a day job. And my wife was invited to speak on behalf of the local wildlife foundation.”

“Which is different than the conservatory team?”

“Clark, honey, don’t try to understand how Gotham works,” Lois encourages as she passes him a glass.

“Yes, they’re separate,” Bruce explains. “She expressed the foundation’s concern and assured them that they’d receive no commendation or donation…”

“So, you’re waiting for her to come back to leave?” Lois guesses.

“Uh, excuse me,” Bruce mumbles. He straightens and adds, “I need to go win over the beautiful woman in the red dress.”

“You wanna get out of here, too?” Lois asks Clark. His eyes widen as he nods, and after Lois sets their glasses aside, they step back into a hallway and seem to disappear in a blur.

Someone runs into you, their side bumping against your hip. When you look over your shoulder and see Bruce looking at your lips, you turn slightly to hit him with your hip in retaliation. The moment you lean toward him, Bruce wraps his arm around your waist, spins you against his chest, then dips you. Your arms loop around his neck quickly, but you laugh when you realize what he’s done.

“You’re in a good mood,” you murmur as he stands, holding you against his chest.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Bruce compliments.

“Bruce, I love you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Knock it off,” Bruce chides playfully. “Flirting is my thing.”

You lean forward, and just before your lips meet, you argue, “And you’re mine.”

Bruce closes the distance, holding your waist carefully as he holds you close and moves with you. Camera shutters echo behind you, several people clap, and you hear your Damian turn around quickly.

Bruce Wayne loves you; he will never stop flirting with you, and all of Gotham knows it. Especially when Vicki Vale’s article Gotham’s Power Couple is Only Growing in Power and Influence is printed on every front page the following morning.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne oneshot #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #batfamily #dc comics x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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glamourscat · 2 months ago

Note

MASSIVE SLAY for calling out the tim drake mischaracterization. If you ever write for him I'll be the first one to read istg

⋆˚౨ৎ Tim Drake HCS ౨ৎ ⋆.˚

<33, thank you :') Tim is not only my fav Robin, but perhaps my fav batfamily member. I can yap about him for hours lmao. and since i am a yapper at heart here some headcanons for Tim, along side A SMUTTY ONESHOT

habit of FaceTiming you after patrol and using it as a gossip (shit talking) session “And you won’t believe what that motherfuck—“

CEO of “this is us”. Spams you with TikTok’s and cringy memes that remind him of you two together or just you in general.

He is chronically online, but not in the cringy gen alpha way, but in the way that he somehow knows every obscure gossips / cancellations happening. Even in niche that he is not into (like chef tini's thanksgiving mac and cheese controversy)

He is so smart, with the highest IQ in the batfamily after Bruce and yet he somehow decides that it's a good idea to try and take the piece of stuck toast with a fork... in a plugged, working, toaster. He is the type of person who's smart academically, gifted even, but never tries-- in fact he finds school boring (and i think this is canon)

Has a private account on social media, the ones that look like fake/bots right? Private with like 10 followers, and he posts mainly his s/o, pictures with his friends and his photography pictures.

He knows how to skate in canon. Stay assured he will teach you how to skate too. Late night skate practices when he doesn't have patrol, or during the summer going to the arcades together -- or driving to the nearest 7/11 to buy a slurpee.

OVER HIS DEAD BODY will he admit this, but he is a cuddler enjoyer. He is pretty short, so if youre slightly taller than him or larger, he is heaven. He likes to bottle up his feelings until he explodes, but, in those quiet nights when he can rests his head on your chest and relax by the sound of your heartbeat... he knows it will all be alright.

Doesn't know how to enjoy things normally. It's even all in with him or none at all. (like i mentioned here) emotionally he is stunned. He either goes down the rabbit hole and become utterly unhinged or is nonchalant, and you know in that moment you have lost him. This can apply for both relationships, friendships and even things like watching a new show or read a new book.

Is so pretty. Long black eyelashes, soft blue eyes that are so bright, his hair are of a shade of black that reminds you of the midnight sky. His muscles are just right. He is pale and yet has a warmness to him you can't really explain.

When he is not patrolling he actually has a pretty stable routine. Tim can be a control freak, and surely he, as the work alcholic vigilante he is, won't make his immune system— which is already weak withouth a spleen— grow any weaker. He takes great care of himself. With going to sleep early, taking breaks, drinks tea, morning walks at 6am...

Has a loud mouth. Most will assume Jason would be the one to swear the most right? And I mean, he is, just not the number one. The number one is this meany right here. Who, in every three words, inserts a swearing word you didn’t even know existed.

Secretly a romantic but not in the "normal way." His love would show up in the little things -> like taking notice of what you like, your fav characters, songs, foods, colour, animal etc.. and keeping it mind when needed. He is there for you when you need him, and he might not be good with words, but for sure he is good at taking care of you with touch.

MIXED TAPES!! You lost the count of how many burned CDs he gifted you, with an accurate playlist of songs chosen mirroring what he wants to portray. Anniversary? Bday? Holidays? He will gift you one along side another present for sure.

“What is this?” Your voice holding a hint of curiosity, surprise even as you look at him with soft eyes

“Pre anniversary gift. I wanted to gift you something— meaningful I suppose” he says shrugging, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably as his big blue eyes were waiting to hear your contentment.

“Aww, you’re so cute …” you tease, on purpose making your tone slightly higher pitch. It might seem sarcastic, but truly it's not. Because you’re extremely grateful, every mixed tape is a little treasure you cherish with all of your heart. You just enjoy messing with him, because his face goes always so red.

“Alright, shut up now” he says, while rolling his eyes. Trying to act annoyed, but you can see right through him. He is miserably failing with this little act, because his love sick smile is big enough to bright the whole room.

百個心都裝唔晒我對你嘅愛= A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you | in cantonese

Playlist: Slide away - oasis Useless ID - Kiss Me, Kill Me Kiss Me Deadly by Generation X When it’s time - green day somebody - depeche mode Just like heaven - the cure First date - blink-182 Lucky man - the verve Good good things - descendents Teenage Bottlerocket - Spend the Night Teenage Bottlerocket - Don't Go

The drawing is made by me btw!!

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siddyyyyyyyy · 3 months ago

Text

By the Fireplace

BRUCE WAYNE X READER

MDNI wc: 1.2K summary: Finally snapping the sexual tension between you and your best friend. warnings: alcohol comsumption, dry humping a/n: It's not perfect but it's also nearing midnight so i don't care. Enjoy!!

It‘s been a relaxing evening so far, hanging out with your long time best friend in his lounge by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, and some deep talk. Bruce will never openly admit it, but he feels like you are the only one who understands him. While being slightly drunk, it‘s easier to relax and shut his mind off. Especially sitting beside you on the comfortable couch; he wants to stay like that forever.

The shared comfortable silence almost makes him fall asleep, but his mind can‘t seem to find complete peace beside you. Even when his head is leaning against the top of your head, he can‘t seem to fully relax yet.

You feel almost the same. You do feel relaxed, safe even, but something keeps stirring inside of you when you are so close to him. Ignoring it and taking another sip of your drink, you watch the fireplace crackle contentedly in front of you.

Bruce sighs out beside you, indicating his tiredness after talking about everything and nothing for hours.

»Want a refill?«

He leans off of you for the first time in probably half an hour and reaches for the whiskey bottle by the coffee table. You shrug and sit up more, letting him fill your glass with the dark liquid.

His movements are slightly disoriented, but he manages to get all the liquid into your glass, and then get more for himself. With a low hum, Bruce sips on his drink, eventually leaning back on the couch. His once perfectly put together appearance became more dishevelled, some strands of hair sticking out in different directions while his tie is resting somewhere in the room; long forgotten.

You also take another quick sip, already used to the bitterness and set it aside for now.

»So… I think it‘s time to go, isn‘t it?«

The time on your phone shows that it‘s well past one am, but Bruce thinks otherwise. A small whine leaves him, completely uncharacteristic normally, but very on point in his drunken state.

»C‘mon, you‘ve only been here for what… two hours?«

He sways on his spot as he leans up and turns to face you fully.

It‘s not exactly true, you‘ve been in his living room for six hours by now, talking nonsense with each other. Gossiping, mostly.

But with your intoxicated brains it‘s hard to tell anymore. So, logically, you sigh out and give in. How could you resist your best of bestest friend anyway?

»A few more minutes, then...«

And that‘s how easily you can make him smile again. It‘s crooked and his eyes are mostly unfocused, but he is satisfied with your easy compliance. And tonight, he seems to be bolder with his actions.

»C‘mere… please,« sighing out, he opens his arms and almost tackles you down with his hug, »such a good friend.« He mumbles against your shoulder, basically squeezing you tight with his arms. If it wouldn‘t been the alcohol, you would‘ve pushed him away by now and pretend to find the physical affection cringe. Not that he does it a lot, only rarely when he is sure you are both absolutely alone.

A second after, you hug him back and sigh out in relaxation. You both melt together into one not too long after, refusing to let go of the other while basking in the comfort.

»I‘m definitely sleeping here tonight.«

You are not sure if you refer to his arms or couch, not caring at this point. He takes your words seriously and squeezes you lightly, almost making your breath hitch.

»Mhm… damn right, you will.«

His voice drops lower, getting into a low whisper as he keeps you close to his chest, refusing to let go of the comfort and sweet scent of you.

Even though you didn‘t mean your words at first, you find yourself quickly accepting the fact that this night will be spend here. Hell, you wouldn‘t mind falling asleep right now like this.

A small groan leaves him and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck, searching for more warmth and most importantly your scent. He needs to make sure you are actually still there and not just a silly imagination he came up with.

Following his actions, you wrap you arms tighter around his neck, shifting to press closer. Your clouded brain can‘t help it, neither does his own and soon enough, your limbs are tangled with the other in a more chaotic way. Thanks to Bruce‘s master-brain, he finds a more comfortable position and lets you straddle his lap.

Finally seated, you both relax and simply enjoy the presence of the other. You don‘t know what changed exactly, but in the next minute he is all over you.

Hands groping gently at your curves and fats, lips tracing your skin down your neck and shoulder. Your shirt seems to be in the way, but he is also too lazy to tug it off just yet.

Your brain catches up on what‘s happening and by the time he already started, you can‘t just stop. Acting by logic and pure desire, you give into the act and tangle your fingers into his hair, guiding his head around a little.

Soon, the room fills his soft grunts and your heavy breathing. His hips desperatly jerk up and try to get friction, but it‘s harder in this position when his chest is pressed against yours and you are also pressed completely against him. Deciding you have enough of the friction that‘s barely even there, you lean him back into the back rest and do it your own way.

Hips grinding and sliding against his crotch earns a groan from both of you. The new friction feels more intense and delicious, soon getting breathless from it. His hands settle on your thighs and the small of your back, guiding you in a steady rythm.

Due to the effect of the alcohol, it‘s actually more sloppy than anything, but you both couldn‘t care less. It‘s sloppy, messy, hungry, whatever; you both need this.

Your heavy breaths turn into small whimpers, getting him riled even more than he already is. And then it happens, the final knot snapping without warning. You never came so fast before, maybe it‘s your intoxicated brain, maybe it‘s just Bruce alone, but it feels heavenly either way.

Your hips stutter and thighs shake on either side of him, and for a moment he stills too. A primal groan leaves him before he grabs onto your hips and continues, the pace faster and rougher. His brain immediately went to mush the second he realised what happened.

»Oh, yeah— s‘ good f‘ me… just like that, a little longer,« Bruce mutters under his breath, sucking new marks against the exposed skin of your neck and suddenly drags your hips painfully slow against him, trying to draw out as many needy sounds from you and milk out as many possible aftershocks from you at the same time.

The way he does it is enough to draw a second orgasm out of you, but your body simply gives out. A few final trembles and jerks, then you slump limp onto him.

Sighing out deeply, he caresses over your back and settles back comfortably with you. Your brain shuts off at the same time and are on the brink of falling asleep until he speaks up, voice low and dangerous.

»That‘s not all, doll… gonna stay the whole night, aren‘t ya?«

←MASTERLIST

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teddypines · 1 month ago

Text

Tea Time

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Summary: Family tea time, with chaos and fluff. The Wayne kids being themselves and weird. Fem!reader, around 6 years old.

Note: This took me a few writer blocks but it is done. I also wish you all very happy holidays and a good new years! Words: 1212 (not on purpose).

Art/picture is from Pinterest, is from the webtoon Wayne family adventures.

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Y/N loved tea time, especially when Alfred made the tea for her and she got to dress up and gather all her plushies around her tiny table set for a tea party. But she loved it more when it was tea time with her family. When her brothers and sisters would dress up with her, it always took some convincing with Jason and Damian, and set round the living room with her. Even if Bruce had the time he would join and Alfred always played butler when that happens, Y/N didn’t quite understand that Alfred was the actual butler just yet.

Y/N wore her pink princess dress and a tiara as she set Fleep and Bee up on the couch. She made sure they were secure on the blanket before dashing off to the kitchen. Running past Tim and Cas, they both knew what time it was. So the two of them decided to gather the others so Y/N had more time preparing for tea and helping Alfred.

“Alfred, Alfred!” Y/N called out as she ran into the kitchen. Big smile on her face when she saw the butler already working on a big pot of tea and a smaller one with coffee, Alfred knew that not everyone in the family liked the taste of tea. Making sure that there would be enough for everyone’s taste. Y/N giggled and made her way to Alfred. “Can I help?" She asked as she held onto the man’s leg, giving the man big puppy eyes as she looked up. “Please!” Alfred could only laugh and nodded his head. “You know where the cake forks and plates are, right?” Y/N nodded her head to Alfred’s question. “Go get them and put them on one of the trays on the island counter.”

Y/N let Alfred go and went to look for the cake plates and forks. The forks were easy to find since they were with the rest of the cutlery in the big drawer. She grabbed the forks and carried them to the kitchen island, struggling a bit when she climbed the stepping stool. “Alfred? Where are the plates?” She asked just to make sure she was going to look for them in the right place. “Lower left cabinet, Y/N/N.” Alfred answered while making the coffee, pouring hot water over a filter, yes Alfred still makes the coffee by hand.

With the directions Alfred gave her, Y/N made her way to collect the cake plates. She walked a few times between the kitchen island and the cabinet where the plates were, making sure to not carry too many at the same time. Too scared to drop any of the plates she carried. After a little while Y/N had made sure that all the plates were safely on the tray next to the forks. Not one plate was dropped. This made Alfred really proud of her, making sure Y/N knew that. “You did a very good job, Y/N.” He praised, actually happy that one of Bruce’s children could be gentle with something as little as a few plates and forks. Remembering the times where the boys tried to help him, only to have a messy kitchen by the end of it.

The smile on Y/N’s face made Alfred’s heart melt a bit. “Wanna help me with decorating the cake?” He asked, Knowing the answer before he even asked the question. “Yes!!!” Y/N answered as she jumped up and down out of excitement. And so the two of them made sure the cake was taken out of the oven and was decorated for tea.

<------------------------------------------------>

Y/N carried the small tray as Alfred carried the big tray with the cake out of the kitchen. Tim and Cas were already in the living room helping with setting up. Damian sat on the couch, mopping with a paper crown on his head. Of course he had to be grumpy about the whole situation. Dick on the other hand just walked over to Y/N to help her, only to be told off. “I can do this myself!” Y/N told Dick as she continued to take careful steps to the coffee table.

Cas laughed when Dick got denied by Y/N. “Aaaw, poor Dickie, even our little sister doesn’t need you anymore.” She teasted, watching as a pout formed on Dick’s face. He didn’t want to be unwanted, especially by his baby sister. Dick quickly focused on something else and started to help Alfred. Cas continued with decorating with Tim and Duke and Barbara got the place settings right.

“Do I really have to be here right now?” Damian asked, only to get yes from everyone in the room. “Fine, but I'm not doing anything.”

“Like hell you are!” Steph hit Damian on the shoulder before punching him off the couch. “You better come and help me with getting dad from the cave.” She ordered. Taking Damian by the arm and taking him away to help with getting Bruce to join them.

<------------------------------------------>

When Bruce Was up from the batcave, Damian was finally being nice and everyone was settled around the coffee table all dressed up and ready for the party.

Y/N smiled and fixed Her crown. “Ehhem, I thank you awll for coming today. We are here to celebwe… celle…” Y/N stuttered a little around the word before Bruce helped her “Celebrate sweetie,”

“celebrate the cake that Alfred made for tea time. It's a red velvet With white chocolate and lemon stuff and cream.” Y/N continued as Alfred Poured the tea into the cups. A smile on his face because of the praise Y/N gave his cake. Everyone else happily moved around the cups Alfred handed out. Adding Sugar and or milk where necessary.

“And daddy has The honor of cutting the cake!” Y/N finished before carefully handing over the cake knife to Bruce. Cake cutting was something special in the Wayne household. No one really knew how to do it properly except Alfred, but they didn't want the butler to do everything. So they did roulette or Bruce had to do it. Since Y/N didn’t want roulette or a fight, daddy had to do it.

The cake was cut and put onto plates. Alfred getting the first piece. It was his creation, his work and his love that went into it, so it was only fair.

Jason fixed The crown on his head and licked His lips, ready to devour the cake on his plate. Only he waited too long and Steph took a little bite from Jason's cake. Jason gasped in response. “You cake thief! And You even took the best bite! You bi…”

“Jason!” Bruce warned his son before grabbing Steph's plate and switched it with Jason's. “You know we don't swear in this household. And you, Steph, we also don't steal from each other's plates.”

“Sorry dad.” Steph answered as she looked down at her knees. “Sorry Jay.” Jason just nodded his head in acceptance and finally got to have a bite of the cake.

Y/N leaned against Dick and looked up at him. “What was Jay gonna say?” She asked, she was just a bit too curious sometimes. Luckily she hadn't found the bat cave just yet. Dick looked down at Y/N and sighed. “I'll tell you when you're older.”

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superyum · 9 months ago

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𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚; 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙

𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨; 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬/ 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮, 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙫, 𝙫 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙥 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢, 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠/𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚

𝙩𝙩𝙢; 𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙖 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 & 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙨𝙛 & 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝! 𝙄𝙧𝙞𝙨.

Predating! Barry who after many, many years of being secretly in love with Iris, decides that’s it time to stop waiting on her to get outta her relationship and finally notice him, but instead to move on.

Predating! Barry who has some really bad, ridiculous even, dates after coming to that conclusion. He’s starting to regret taking the dating scene seriously again.

Predating! Barry who bumps into you on his was leaving Jitters because he was late getting to a crime scene for his job. No surprise.

Predating! Barry who becomes tongue tied when he actually gets a good look at you—he definitely stares at you mouth agape for about a minute before snapping out of it.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I’m late for work.” he sputters out, hands waving around as he gestures to a random direction then to his case and then you.

Predating! Barry who almost fumbled the bag if he didn’t turn back around to awkwardly ask to buy you a coffee as an apology. Not now though! He had to get to work.

Predating! Barry who despite being a spontaneous coffee date, super speeds through over a dozen outfits that he think might impress you. Call him a try hard, but all the dates before this one were rough. He had a good feeling about you.

Predating! Barry who shows up early to said date, only to find you already there. Color him impressed and flattered.

Predating! Barry who manages to not say anything stupid during the date, at least nothing that didn’t make you laugh. Did he mention you have a really nice laugh? Yes. Yes, he did. He accidentally thought it out loud…

Predating! Barry who starts to feel like there’s something there; a spark between the two of you, otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to a second date. Or a third, fourth or fifth one.

Predating! Barry who after the fifth date confesses he didn’t want to go on anymore dates where you weren’t officially his partner.

It was a peaceful night along the board walk of Central Park. The sun long set; the moon settling in the sky and yet the time slipping away didn’t matter to either Barry or you.

The conversation was airy, as it always was between you two. It flowed smoothy discussing your passions and dislikes that there was never a dull moment.

Barry noticed it never was with you. He stops, watching as you continue to walk before you turn around after noticing he wasn’t beside you.

He felt it, the way his tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth when you look at him with concern. But he had to say it—it was now or never—he didn’t want another Iris situation.

“Listen… I…I really like you—you’re amazing, pretty and—and smart! Will you go out with me?..”

There’s silence before you answer, “I thought we were already going out.”

Barry open and close his mouth multiple times before answering, “Well yeah but I mean officially—as lovers…?”

Boyfriend! Barry who is the most romantic man you’ve ever dated. Never fails to greet you with flowers every Saturday date night. And every date is different than the next, sometimes you’d order in and he’d have the most authentic food you’ve ever tasted. Can’t find it anywhere in town.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to feel some sense of normalcy. When he’s not the Flash, he’s just a guy who’s crashing into your arms after a long day at work. You ask about his day and vice versa, carding your hand through his hair as his breathing slows because this, you, were starting to feel like home.

Boyfriend! Barry who despite still running late to work, makes you breakfast every morning with the best coffee in the city before you’re even up in the morning. How’d he have enough time to do all this always amazed you. He even leaves a little love note on a sticky note, “I miss you,” or “You look beautiful this morning”.

Boyfriend! Barry who enjoys the little domestic moments of your relationship: washing the dishes as you dry them, reading the same book at the same pace so you can discuss it together, when you fix his tie on the off chance of waking up before him, something so mundane as brushing teeth before sleep before sharing a kiss in bed.

Boyfriend! Barry who tries so hard to keep his superhero lifestyle separate from his civilian lifestyle. He didn’t want you hurt because everyone that knows always gets hurt… he can’t lose you. Not when he’s starting to…

Boyfriend! Barry who is the “first” to bring up moving in together. He has all these facts to back up his reasoning without you even needing to question him: He practically already lives at your place, half his clothes are there, his tooth brush, he never really goes home and always spends the night with you.

Boyfriend! Barry who you once again shock with a “Barry, I already gave you a key to my place. I thought it was obvious..” and a shy smile. That’s what that key was for? He thought it was just in case of emergencies. He was rambling for nothing!

Boyfriend! Barry who doesn’t come home for hours until all his meta-human business injuries are 100% healed. He’s not ready to tell you about that side of him yet. Life was perfect; you are perfect.

Boyfriend! Barry whose little white lies turn to even bigger lies when you see something red on his collar one night. He panics, says it’s from work but you start to think something else.

Boyfriend! Barry whose, try as he might, superhero lifestyle starts to interfere with his relationship. Usually he can be in and out before you even notice depending on the situation, but a new dangerous meta has started to reck havoc over the city and he was the only one to save it.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to leave in the middle of date night, apologizing as he stumbles to put his shoes on, “I have to—It’s work. I’m sorry,” before kissing you with so much emotion, he hopes you get the message—you don’t.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to miss date night, in fact sometimes he doesn’t even come home during the weekdays. Nevermind it’s because he’s in the middle of a fight or beaten so badly that he stays at Starlabs—you’re worried, feelings with insecurity and doubt rise in you because he hasn’t been answering his phone.

Boyfriend! Barry whose relationship starts to slowly crumble. You’re still present but it’s like there’s this wall suddenly blocking him from reaching you. You’re distant and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes these days. Every time he touches you, you brush away so subtlety he would have missed it if he wasn’t so engrossed in you.

Boyfriend! Barry who still lies when you start to ask questions, deflecting them with answers that further puts a dent in the relationship. Questions turn to arguments, arguments turn to sleeping in separate rooms.

Boyfriend! Barry who can’t say he didn’t know where it started to go wrong but he does. He just thought he could make it work, he needs it to work with you. He needs you. Whether you know it or not, you’re his lighting rod.

Barry stares at the door handle to your shared apartment, stomach twisted in knots at where the stage of your relationship has gotten. He hasn’t thought that he’d ever be coming home to a full house yet it feels so empty without you beside him.

He unlocks the door and turns the handle to open, a rush of cold air hits his face. Feels just like the cold shoulder you’re given him. All because he couldn’t out right and tell you he was The Flash.

He locks the door behind him, his body moving instinctively to the bedroom. He wanted to make sure you were alright—his whole reasoning is to make sure you’re always alright.

But you weren’t alright. He wasn’t alright. You weren’t talking like you both used to and it was literally killing him inside. Maybe there was a little fear in telling you who he was. Everyone else is accepting of it, what if you weren’t?

From where he’s standing, outside your door, listening to any sign that your home and not where you thought he might be, he realizes either way this ends, there’s a chance you could leave him. So why does it matter hiding it now?

Boyfriend! Barry who dressed as the Flash surprises you by suddenly standing in your shared bedroom. You’re both amazed and shocked as you cling to your book. How is the Flash in your room—How does he know where you live!?

Boyfriend! Barry whose heart is beating fast even for his normal standards. This is the closest he’s been to you in a week. You’re still has stunning as the first day he’s seen you. But he has to focus. He’s not here to admire you. He has to patch this hole in the relationship or completely destroy it all together.

Boyfriend! Barry who uses his voice change at first, tells you how he really feels. That he’s a hero, risking his life for the city, fighting meta-humans. It’s a dangerous job, but it’s even more dangerous for the people he loves.

Boyfriend! Barry who voice cracks as he talks about you without directly tell you it’s about you. Goes on and on how he wasted his whole life, despite still being friends, on someone else and when he finally finds someone he loves, he tries to protect them the only way he knows how. But his protection is what’s tearing them apart.

Barry reverts back to his normal voice before stepping out the darkness, “I thought I could juggle both lives without you ever getting involved. I thought I had it handled and we can live our life just like everyone else. But I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” He pulls his mask off, reveling your boyfriend, “From now, there is no more secrets between us. I miss you, baby.”

Boyfriend! Barry who waits with batted breath looking at your blank face, watching you get up from the bed and walk over to him. Reaching a hand out, you touch his suit, tracing his symbol.

Boyfriend! Barry who confirms with words that he’s the Flash after you ask him if this was what he’s been doing when he’s not with you, when he doesn’t answer your calls or leaves suddenly during a date.

Boyfriend! Barry who feels the same relief you do when you say, “Thank God”, and drop your head on his chest, hugging him close. He returns your hug, if not, more bone crushing than yours. Thank God indeed, he really loves you.

Boyfriend! Barry who almost gave away his secret the first time you make-out. You’ve kissed multiple times before but never had you sat in his lap, pushing your chest against his, and grind down on his growing erection. There was so much stimulation, it was overwhelming. He’s lucky you were so horny to accept his explanation of an intense shiver and not him vibrating.

Boyfriend! Barry who curses and thanks the lucky bastard who taught you how to give head before him. The first time you went down on him, it was utterly filthy, he was the one embarrassed. But he couldn’t look away. Your small hand barely reaching round him made him throb, you can feel his excitement on your tongue when you pull back to give the underside of his head some attention, before slobbering back down his cock again.

Boyfriend! Barry who groans loudly the first time he bottomed out inside you. So wet yet tight, entry was easy, your hole was practically sucking him in. It made it difficult for him to think straight inside your warmth. He’s surprised himself he hasn’t came from that alone. He was so painfully hard, the head didn’t even make him go down.

Boyfriend! Barry whose favorite part of your body is your legs and thighs. Doesn’t matter if they’re thin, thick, toned or fatty. The first place he always grabs is your thighs, gliding his hands up and down your legs so slowly it’s ticklish. Stop laughing, he’s trying to map every inch of you into his memory.

Boyfriend! Barry who prefers slow sex over quick sex. It’s the one thing he doesn’t want to rush, taking his time making you squirm and beg for him to give you more. You’re so pretty lying there, how can anyone ever want to stop? He ends up overstimulating himself and you, orgasm after orgasm.

Boyfriend! Barry who favorite positions are cowgirl and missionary. Anything that lets him see your face or feel you closer. He bites his lips bloody watching your breast bounce up and down when he decides to pick up speed or feeling them violently against his chest as he lays on top of you.

Boyfriend! Barry who will wake you up with head. He’s no stranger to seeing you in his dreams. It’s only fair he makes you feel as good as you’ve made him. It’s like he’s making out to your pussy, the way he laps at your soon to be puffy folds and suckle on your growing clit. He pulls an orgasm out of you, successfully waking you up. Ask him why, he’ll say he missed you while you slept.

Boyfriend! Barry who found out you have a thing for him in uniform, that while he’s still adrenaline rushed after dealing with Metas, he finds you and fucks you on the closest surface nearby. He’s rougher, faster, filling your hole with his cock, angling it just right it has you moaning in unison at you clenching down on him and your coming in no time at all.

Boyfriend! Barry who doesn’t think he’s good at dirty talk but the way he praises you and basically announces the way he worships everything about you in bed has you spreading your legs wider as if he did say the filthiest line on earth.

Boyfriend! Barry who becomes way into roleplaying the hero who saves you from an evil villain. Don’t you worry, he’ll protect you—no thanks necessary, it’s his job. But if you insist… after all, how can he to reject the way you kneel in front of him, doe eyes blinking up at him seductively and rubbing him to full hardness? Under the suit, he’s still just a man.

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jvsont0dd · 8 months ago

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Jason Todd dies so often that he might as well be a Winchester

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b3ach-bunn7 · 24 days ago

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RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK

You hate your coworker Jason Todd. Despite this, the tow of you have been given the same client and are forced to work together

enemies to lovers, NSFW, office sex, confessions

(This is quite long 😓 a fair warning!)

—————————————————————————

You hate Jason Todd. So much. So impossibly so.

You’d met three years ago when you’d joined the RH firm. It was one of the biggest in Gotham, known for its impeccable lawyers and cutthroat attitude. You don’t lose a case when you hire someone from RH, and especially not when it’s Jason Todd.

You’d been excited to meet him at first. Any lawyer worth their salt would be. You always looked out for his name in the news, when he’d be on the stand once more. You’d even sat in on one of his trials, watched in awe at the way he commandeered a room, his strong voice bouncing off the walls. There was no doubting, even now with your ever present hatred, that Jason Todd is amazing at what he does.

He’s also so gorgeous.

You’re sure he was some sort of superhero in another life, because he is so jacked. You remember the day the office had gone to the bar on a random Friday, and he’d worn this tight fit short sleeve shirt. And his muscles were almost tearing the fabric, and you’re ninety nine percent sure when he stretched up, the hem of his shirt lifted and he had a six pack hiding underneath there. His hair was greying but it made him look better, soft brown and white curls always perfectly styled over his face. And those eyes. So piercing, so guarded. When he looks at you it feels like he can read every single thought racing through your brain.

It is just such a shame he is so insufferably annoying.

So cocky, so vain. It’s no surprise that he is, most lawyers are. You need to think that you’re the best because that confidence boost does wonders in court. But he is just so annoying with it. Always bragging, always has something smart to say to you. And the worst part is he looks so proud of himself afterwards, a stupid smirk on his face after he successfully pisses you off.

You can’t even remember when it started. A few days after you’d started, a petty squabble here and there and a disagreement every now and then. You were a strong personality and he wanted everything his way, and it didn’t end well for either of you. The icing on the cake was when you’d been given a case that he had wanted, and it seemed to solidify the little squabbles between you two.

You can hear him before you see him. Footsteps that command respect as they thump up to your door. He doesn’t knock, just swings it open and invites himself in. Shirt perfectly ironed and pressed against the hard planes of his chest. Perfect knot on his tie. It’s not fair he can look this good at work. Your eyes flit over him once more, before you look back down at your screen.

“Knock before you walk into my office.” You snap.

“Woah, what’s with the attitude? It’s still early, love.”

You scowl at him and the smile on his face widens. You mumble some choice words under your breath and shut your laptop.

“Don’t call me that. And what do you want?”

Jason drops some files on your desk. You flick through them, biting the end of your pen as you scan them quickly. There's a client that needs help settling a dispute over some plot of land in some important part of Gotham. Not that any part of Gotham is that important.

“Is this for me?” When a reply doesn’t come quickly, you glance up, and Jason is just staring at you.

You wave a hand in the air. “Hello? Did you come in here to stare at me?”

He seems to snap out of it quickly, reaching forward and grabbing the papers from in front of you. “Boss wants us to work on this together.”

Fuck.

“Why?” You groan. “Does he want me to kill myself?”

“My dreams are not common, unfortunately.”

You make a face at him and he huffs a laugh. “The guy is a real tool. I’ve worked with him before, so be prepared to get pissed off.”

You sit back in your chair, hand over your face. You wave him off. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Meeting is at three.”

“Goodbye.”

“In conference room B.”

“Jason Todd, so help me.”

He leaves then, hands up in surrender, ignoring your shouts to shut your door behind him.

You finish up the stuff you need to do, and psyche yourself up for this meeting. You kid yourself that you won’t need to spend that long with Jason. Everything will be fine.

When you walk into the conference room, Jason is already talking to him. Micheal Battersby, a man whose money was the only good thing about him. You don’t like him the second you lay your eyes on him, especially with the leery way he’s looking at you. But you plaster on a smile, holding out a hand and introducing yourself.

“Wow. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He grins at you and his teeth are too white.

“Thank you. I assume Jason’s run over most of the agenda with you?” You decide not to comment too much on his compliment.

When you turn to Jason, he looks angry. He’s clenching his jaw and when his eyes meet yours you almost fall back a bit. But in a moment it’s gone, and he’s back to his customer service smile.

“Yes, the first half.”

You spend the next few minutes working through the rest of your paper with him. Jason doesn’t talk as much as you’d think, just occasionally chimes in when need be. Just when you think you can finish up and get away from Michael’s horrible attempts at flirting, one of the office interns pops her head through the door.

“There’s a phone call for you, Y/N.”

Of course there is. You turn to the two men, quickly getting up. “I’ll be back shortly.” You smile.

And it’s your mother. Asking when you’ll see her. How she can only ever reach you when she calls your work.

“Mom, please, I’m busy.” You whisper into the phone, looking back at the rooms door.

“Oh, I won’t be long, darling.”

You entertain her for as long as you can, before you’re rushing back to the conference room. Before you can walk in, Jason storms out the room. He shoves past you and you frown. A peek tells you Micheal is still sitting down, looking a little fussed. Jason’s annoying, but you’d much rather be around him than creepy Micheal, so you quickly rush after him.

“What happened?”

“We’re done. Told him to go home.” He grunts, not even turning to look at you. Irritation laces his voice and you wonder what you missed.

“So now what?”

Jason reaches his office door and sighs irritably. He turns to look at you and you take a quick step back at how close he’s standing.

“Come to my office at five, we can work on the terms. I’ll set a meeting for tomorrow to give them to him.”

You don’t have time to reply before he’s slamming the door in your face.

—-

Time does not seem to fly waiting for five o’clock to come around. Jason had given you two hours, probably to finish up the work you were doing before, but for some reason you’re so nervous about being alone in his office, that you just sit in your office, thinking.

You play a random show in the background and decide now is a good of a time as any to eat your lunch. You chew slowly and purposefully and watch Ross and Rachel argue about something for the millionth time.

You decide, after the clock strikes 2:47, that being thirteen minutes early won’t hurt. You grab your laptop and walk your way to his office, adjusting your pencil skirt and making sure you haven’t sweat through your white blouse. You make sure there’s no mascara under your eyes and knock very impatiently on the door, until an annoyed voice tells you to come in.

You shoot Jason a too sweet smile and he raises a brow. “You’re thirteen minutes early.”

“What can I say, I have a good work ethic. You could learn a thing or two.”

Jason scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you left our client in the conference room on his own, and stormed out.”

“I didn’t storm out.”

“Uh, yeah, you did. You look super pissed too.” You sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

You’ve been in Jason’s office a couple of times before, but you let yourself take a proper look at it this time. It’s quite minimalist. You have pictures of your friends and family, and gifts from clients all over the room. But his office is void of most things personal, or just most things at all.

There’s a few plants on his shelves, and only one picture frame with him and three other guys, one of them quite younger than the rest. Jason’s never mentioned his brothers but then again, you guys don’t really talk.

The one thing that is all over his room is books. You find yourself reading the titles from where you’re sitting, head tilting slightly.

“You alright there?”

You turn back to him to find him staring at you again. You feel like that’s been happening a lot recently. “Just surprised you could read, is all.”

“Ha ha. Shut up.”

You keep looking at the books. “Hey, you have Agatha Christie’s books. I love her books?”

Jason tilts his head a little. “Really?”

“Yeah! My mum got me into them when I was younger. The ABC murders is my favourite.”

Jason studies you for a moment. “Who knew you knew good literature?”

“I know good everything, Todd. Now what does flirty old Micheal want?” You say, flipping Jason’s laptop around to read what he’s writing.

You laugh a little at the way his face falls. “What is your problem with him?”

“He’s fucking annoying. And every word out of his mouth is a brag, and it’s never even things worth bragging about.”

“True. He likes to look too. At things he probably shouldn’t be looking at.” You say, eyes still on the laptop.

“What?”

“Yeah, he's kinda leery, but. It’s fine. I’m not going to be around him long, so. I’ll make do.” You shrug.

“It’s not fine. That’s fucking gross.”

Your eyes widen slightly. He seemed so annoyed for you. It was weird. Usually he was just annoyed at you.

“Yeah, well. What am I going to do? This is good business for the firm, and it’s not like he’s going to do anything.”

Jason scoffs. A prickle of annoyance runs through your body. “You don’t know that.”

“I think I can handle myself.” You frown.

“Sure you can.”

You don’t like the tone in his voice. “You disagree?”

“What? I didn't say anything.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Oh my god. Can we just get this done?”

The two of you work in silence for a few minutes. There’s a weird tension in the room, and you’re more confused than anything else. You can’t tell if Jason was mad at you or at Micheal. You don’t even know why he’s so mad. It’s all very confusing, and the pathetic sandwich you’d bought for your lunch, that you didn’t even finish, has done nothing to ease your hunger.

After about half an hour of silent work, you glance up at Jason. He looks good when he’s focusing like that. It’s unfortunate your brain supplies you with such thoughts, because you are supposed to be mad at him. But he’s biting the inside of his cheek and he looks so good, it cannot be helped.

“You have a real bad staring problem.”

You shoot him a glare. “Shut up.”

You close your laptop quickly, eager to change the subject. “I’m hungry. Can we order food?”

You are almost 100% sure he is well aware you’re trying to do so, but he lets it slide. “We need to work.”

“We can work and eat. We’ll force one of the interns to get us food.” You whisper the last words and he smiles slightly.

“I guess.”

“Great. Thanks for paying.”

“I didn’t-“

“Thanks for paying!”

—-

You’re kind of excited for the meeting with Micheal. Not because of Micheal. Because of Jason.

Yesterday was fun. He did actually pay for the food, and the weird little argument you had about Micheal was forgotten once it had arrived. You’d gotten shawarma sandwiches from the place down the street, the owner a guy who you’d been buying from forever.

It was weird. You don’t think you’d ever have a conversation that’s lasted longer than five minutes with Jason that didn’t end in someone saying something snarky or rude or petty. But it turns out that he’s actually fun to be around, oddly enough. Maybe your hatred was far-fetched.

You’d worn your red blouse today, and the same penciI skirt you wore most days. You wanted to look good today, it’d help you feel good. That’s what you told yourself at least. There’s no other reason you’d want to look good. You walk into conference room B, at 12:45 in the afternoon, fifteen minutes before the meeting. You plug in some headphones and play some solitaire to pass the time.

Then it turns to one, and nobody walks in. Not Jason and not Micheal. You drum your fingers against the desk impatiently. It’s fine one of them being late, but both? Something feels off.

You get up, heels clicking against the floor as you walk over to Star, the red-head receptionist everybody is obsessed with. She’s kind and bubbly and from abroad, her innocent curiosity about everything in Gotham made her fun to be around. She gives you a beaming smile as you walk over.

“Hi, Star.”

“Hiya! May I be of any assistance?” There’s a little foreign twinge to her accent you’ve never been able to figure out.

“Yeah, actually. Have you seen Jason? We were supposed to be meeting with a client at one but they both haven’t showed.”

Star looks confused. She blinks big green eyes up at you. “But Jason already had his meeting.”

You freeze. “What?”

“Well, he called me last night and told me to move it to 11:30. And they finished up and left. Jason is in his office.” Star gets quieter as the look on your face gets angrier.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“No! No, you can go ask him.”

You take a breath in, steeling yourself. “I’m sorry, Star. It’s not you I’m mad at.”

You can’t believe him. Just when you think he’s different, that he’s not as big of a dick as you’d thought, he pulls some shit like this.

You leave your stuff in the conference room and all but run away to his office. You don’t knock, don’t even announce yourself. You’re sure that the angry click of your heels down the corridors was tell enough you were arriving. The door swings open and Jason is sitting at his desk. He looks up at you, eyes lingering on your body for a second, before he looks back down. He doesn’t say a word.

“You’re just gonna fucking sit there? Not say anything?”

Jason shrugs, leaning back in his chair. Long legs stretch under his desks. “What is it you’d like me to say?”

You frown. “Something? We were supposed to talk to the client together. We planned everything together. And not only did you do it without me, but you changed the date so I wouldn’t even know about it!”

He just looks at you. Those piercing eyes stare right through your soul.

“Todd, fucking say something!” You yell.

“There’s no need for all the hostility. You can discuss this with me like a mature adult, you know.”

And his voice is so condescending, and he looks at you with this look on his face that makes you want to throttle him.

“You are not the mature one here. I mean, changing the times so I would show up to an empty room? That’s middle school shit.” You scoff and he just sighs.

“Look. I meant nothing by it.”

“So you’re a dick and a liar. Very good to know.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Can you calm down?”

You laugh, a hand halting from where it was toying with your hair. “No. I can’t calm down. Because you are so insufferable. And I knew working on this stupid client with you would drive me crazy.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m insufferable? You’re the one freaking out over shit that doesn’t matter.” He stands up, and you try not to let his towering height intimidate you.

“It does matter, because it means you don’t respect me and my work. It was a shitty thing to do, Jason. How can’t you see that?”

He scoffs. “That little meeting means that much to you? If you wanted to see Micheal so bad you could I’ve just told me.”

“What- What are you even talking about?”

Jason just looks angry. He turns away, not replying, and you’ve had enough. You don’t want him to see the hurt on your face so you turn away too.

“God, I actually hate you, Jason. So much.”

And you storm off. Fully intending to, at least. But the soft way he speaks his next words, so jarring from the yelling only moments ago, stops you with your hand almost at the door.

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t turn when you speak. “And how do you figure that?”

“Because I’m not stupid. Or blind.”

When you finally look back at him, he’s still standing behind his desk, but he seems much more relaxed. Like he’s just figured out something especially difficult, and he smiles.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t think I notice how much you stare at me?”

Your face burns and his smile turns into something much more dangerous. “I- I don’t stare at you.”

“Oh, that stutter is not very convincing. I know you better than that, love.”

He slowly starts making his way towards you. Very

slowly edging around his desk. You back up the small distance remaining between you and the door, to try and assert some dominance.

“Always staring when you think I’m not looking. And those rare times I do catch you, your face turns that delicious colour it’s turning right now.” He nods. He slowly reaches up and undoes his tie, fingers curling under the knot until it lies flat against his chest.

“You get so worked up when I tease you. Why do you think I do it so much?”

“Because you’re annoying.” You try to sound as rude as you can, but your voice sounds awfully breathy.

Jason slowly undoes the buttons in his cuffs. “Nah, you love it. I can tell. I’m very good at reading people, see. And I’ve been testing you. How well you respond to me.”

Fucking hell. What is going on right now? You think the logical thing to do is just leave, but Jason is now pulling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, rolling them carefully, and the sight is enough to throw every ounce of logic out the window.

“You wanna know why I didn’t let you in on the meetings? Because Micheal likes you. A lot.”

“I don’t-“

“You should’ve heard the way he spoke about you when you walked out the room.”

He’s closer now, enough that if you walked three steps forward you’d be touching.

“Made me punch him in the face. Kick him out the building right there and then. Did you know that?”

Your heart stutters in your chest, hope fluttering in your stomach. “No. I didn’t.”

He just nods again. And his eyes don’t leave you for a second, not even when you shamelessly take in the sight of him in front of you.

“I was jealous, you see. But it was dumb of me to be jealous because you don’t like him. You like me.”

You scoff, laughing nervously. You shake your head. “No. No, I don’t like you. What-“

“It’s why you’re so mad about the fact you weren’t there. You want me to notice you. You want my attention.”

And he closes the distance between you two. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach up and touch you, but he doesn’t. His height is so much more obvious this close, and you have to look up to meet his eyes.

“You have it. You always have.” He swallows roughly.

“So I’m giving you a choice. You can leave right now, and it won’t change anything between us, and we can pretend this never happened.”

You just look at him. You don’t think you could speak if you tried. Not when he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you.

“Or you can stay. And I’ll give you that attention you’ve been begging for.”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

He’s waiting. He’s waiting patiently but you can see the flicker of doubt and rejection growing bigger in his eyes. And you think about how much you hate him, how angry he makes you feel, how much he goes out of his way to tease you, how mad you were literally seconds ago.

And you reach up and kiss him.

It’s hot and heavy and desperate, and you feel like two teenagers hooking up before your parents get home. His hands slide up your waist, your chest, land on your face to pull you closer.

“Knew it, I knew you liked me.” He says between kisses, breathing hard.

“Shut up.” You mumble kissing him harder.

Your lipstick stains his mouth and your stomach turns at the sight. Jason fingers the collar of your blouse, the deep red fabric sliding between his fingers.

“You know my favourite colour is red?”

“I do now.”

He smirks into your skin, kissing down to the small triangle of skin showing from your three open buttons. He sucks a mark into your skin and you sigh, hand tangling in his hair.

“You’re so soft. Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod, immediately reaching up to help him unbotton it.

Your shirt falls to the floor as it slides off your back and Jason groans at the sight of you in front of him. You smile slightly, face heating a little at those eyes looking at you so hard.

“Like what you see?”

He just nods, hands reaching back to fumble with your bra. It brings his face closer and you press a kiss on his lips again, tongue tangling with his. His fingers stutter in their movements, but the bite to his bottom lips spurs him back to action. Your bra joins your shirt, and his hands reach up and cup your chest, calloused hands massaging your skin, thumb brushing against your nipple. You sigh, head leaning back on the door.

You jolt slightly as he pinches one hard, and you glare at him. He just kisses you again.

“I love when you look at me like that.”

“Masochist.”

“Oh, you don’t even know, baby.”

You pinches your nipple again and swallows your protests in his mouth. Your hands travel against his chest, trying to unbutton his shirt. He stops his ministrations on your breast to grab both your hands in one of his.

“No touching.”

“I’m literally half naked and you’re still fully dressed. This doesn’t feel very fair.”

Jason just grins. “I wanna take my time with you. I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

His words distract you enough that you don’t react immediately when he kneels down, pushing your skirt up past your thighs and bunching it around your waist. He toys with your underwear and your face burns.

“Jason-“

“You need to be quiet, okay?” He reaches up and locks his office door, his eyes focused on something different for once.

“Okay. That’s fine.” You nod frantically, gripping his shoulder for support.

Jason slides your underwear down your legs, lifting up your feet so he can throw them to the side. He hooks one leg over his shoulder and you wonder how mortifying it would be if someone walked in, saw how exposed you were and the pure lust that Jason is looking at you with. He presses a kiss to the side of your leg, travelling up slowly.

“Fucking hell, Jason, come on.” You whine.

He tuts, biting the soft skin on your thigh. “Let me savour this.”

“Savour it faster. I’d have thought you of all-“

And you’re interrupted as Jason licks a stripe up your cunt, tongue dipping in to graze against your clit. You gasp slightly, and it spurs him on, licking deeper and faster, and you’re embarrassed at how wet you sound from just kissing him. But you don’t have much time to be embarrassed because your eyes are fluttering shut as he eats you with a fervour that makes your skin flush.

And of course Jason is the best head you’ve ever had, because of course Jason needs to be the best at everything. He sucks your clit once, twice and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your moans. He grins, bringing his hands up to spread your lips open.

“You like that, huh? Didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.”

He kisses your lips and you sigh, hands tugging at his hair. He groans as you do so, and you’ll remember that little tidbit for later. Your breathing stutters more as he speed ships ministrations, and with each muffled moan and twitch of your hips he draws you closer and closer to finish. And it’s after one more long, exaggerated suck of your clit that you cum, and he drags you through it.

“Oh, such a pretty mess for me.” He groans, and you twitch as his fingers slap your cunt once.

You feel like you might pass out, but when he stands back up you can see yourself glistening on his lips. And when he starts unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a six-pack (you were right before) you think you could go another hundred times. You’re about to slip of your heels but he tells you to keep them on. It’s hotter, apparently.

He pulls you over to his desk and you watch the ripple of muscle in his back. He leans you against his desk. You let your hands trace down his body, muscles and abs stretching beneath your skin. The rush from before feels different now, and you want to savour him too.

“Fuck, you’re so ripped.”

He laughs, nosing the crook of your neck. He licks a stripe against your pulse and you push him away.

“Hey, no marks. Visible ones, at least.” You scold and he rolls his eyes.

He traces lightly over the ones he left earlier. Looking at you fondly. You reach down and unbuckle his belt. You slide it out slowly, placing it on the desk. He just watches you closely.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now.”

You smile bashfully. Your hair is a mess where he’d been tangling it in his hands, your chest covered in marks and your skirt wrinkles from where it’s still bunched at your waist. You’re sure you look a mess, but you appreciate the thought.

“Are you gonna fuck me now?”

Jason’s breathes deeply, and his hold on your waist tightens as you unbutton his trousers.

“That what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He places your hands at your side. Kisses into your mouth once more, wet and teasing. And when his hand reaches into his boxers you have to stop your mouth from dropping, because, of course he’s as well endowed as he is.

“You like what you see?” He teases and you sigh.

He leans forward until his forehead brushes yours, and he guides himself to your entrance. And just waits. You buck your hips and it pushes him against your clit and you whine.

“Jason. What are you waiting for?”

“Tell me what you want.”

You glare at him. “You know what I want.”

“No, I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.”

Your face heats slightly. ��I. I want you to fuck me.”

Jason nods. “Again. Without the stutter this time.”

Fucking hell. “I want you to fuck me, Jason. Please, oh please will you- fuck!”

And he presses into you so suddenly, and fills you up in a way that has your mouth open in a silent scream, your head falls on his shoulder, nails digging into his back. He doesn’t move, lets you adjust for a moment, and when he does, he drags deliciously against your walls. He’s so thick, and you moan as he moves faster.

“You’re doing so well. Taking me so well.” He moans into your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

The room smells like sweat and sex, and it’s so easy to forget everything when your eyes are screwed shut and he is leaning his arms either side of you, bracing himself on his desk.

It’s not so easy to forget when someone knocks at his office door. It’s then you remember that you’re actually at work and you are having sex at work in your coworker’s office at work.

You and Jason immediately freeze, and you think you might die if the two of you get caught.

“Who is it?”

“It is Star!”

You curse under your breath, leaning your head on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I just had some papers to give you. And also Y/N was very angry with you.”

Jason grins down at you. “Really?”

“Yes. Did you speak to her?”

He nods. “Mhm we hashed things out. She understood that I was right, and it was fine.”

You scowl at him. Star tries the door again and he rattles some excuse about how he’s in an online meeting. You then remember the position the two of you are in, and you think a little bit of payback is necessary.

“Yeah, when I finish off we can- fuck.” He groans as you push your hips forward, and he fixes you with a look so dangerous it nearly makes you stop. Nearly.

“Is everything okay?” Star yells.

“Yes! Yes I just- I- I stubbed my toe.” Jason squeezed out.

“Oh. Would you like me to bring some first-aid?”

“Not necessary and I’m really sorry but I need to go. Just leave the papers at the door.”

“Okay. Goodbye!”

He waits a second until he hears her walking away, before he thrusts into you harshly and you gasp.

“You think that’s funny?”

You moan, bracing yourself on his chest. “A-A little.” You grin.

“Yeah?”

And then he lifts you up effortlessly, like you weight nothing, sitting you on his desk. And like this he can reach that spot that only so many men knew even existed, and you have to bite your fist to keep from screaming. And he’s consistent, pumping into you long and hard every time. His brow sweats and you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

“You like that?”

You can’t even respond. Just try to keep your noises to a minimum.

“Aw, why are we so quiet now? Where’d all that confidence go?” He drawls, and some tears do fall when his fingers reach down to rub fast circles on your clit.

“Want you to cum for me. And I want you to look at me when you do it. I wanna see.”

And the eye contact is so intimate, and you can’t imagine that just yesterday you were loathing at the thought of him. And when you cum on his fingers his face scrunches as you tighten around him.

“That’s my good girl. Fuck, so good for me.” He mumbles.

He doesn’t stop though. He still hasn’t finished and you don’t know if you can take it. You tell him as much and he shakes his head.

“You can. I know you can, baby. Because you’re so needy for it. Letting me fuck you in my office at work. Anyone could hear you, could walk in. And see you spread on my desk like this..” He says, his words interrupted by heavy breaths and stutters.

And it’s only a few seconds before you break away from the overstimulation and it feels good again. You nails scratch against his back and kisses your chest, your neck, your face. Whatever he can get his lips on.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Want you to come with me, yeah?”

“Jason, no, I- I can’t.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Cum one more time. I know you got it in you, baby.

You shake your head but there’s no protests on your lips as his fingers find your clit once more. And its to the sounds of the two of you breathing and moaning and Jason’s whispered praises that you both finish, and he whimpers, and you think you can die happy.

“Baby, you did so well.” He sighs.

He reaches down again. Before you can tell him to really fuck off, you feel the familiar lace of you underwear being slipped around your heels, your feet. He drags them up your leg and he stands you up, and you have to hold onto his arm so you don’t fall. He pulls up your underwear and you wince, the feeling of his cum still inside of you, and he pulls down your skirt and pats your ass.

“Jason. This is gross, how am I gonna work for the next three hours like this?”

“You can go home and shower. Tell them you’re sick.”

“With your cum dripping down my legs?” You drawl.

“Think of it as a little reminder of me on your way.”

—————————————————————————-

ugh jason Todd let’s make OUUTTTTTTTTT. My last jason Todd fic is on like 500 notes!!!!! Thank u sm for the love everyone

If u couldn’t tell I like writing characters in just the everyday life.. I love an alternate universe and I was watching suits and that’s how this fic came to be!

For those new to my account, this is the third NSFW fic I’ve written so plz be nice 😖 I have also never felt the touch of a man so… this is also probably inaccurate

And I also just wanna say thank you so much to every who leaves comments and reposts and likes my stuff. It genuinely means so so much to me that you enjoy the work I put out, because I love writing it!

anyways I hope u all enjoyed 🩷 I am struggling to think of ideas, so now is the best time to leave me some asks!!

#oneshot #fluff #b3ach bunn7 #jason todd x y/n #jason todd oneshot #jason todd reader #jason todd red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc comics #dc universe #batfam #batman #teen titans #teen titains go #batfic

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anitalenia · 10 months ago

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. ₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ✧˚ ༘

— 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖘 ˚୨��⋆｡˚ 𝘥𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

˚☽˚｡⋆ 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑. The silence was too loud and his room was too cold — his arms and torso were left bare to freeze thanks to you (he was too much of a gentleman to snatch the blanket off you anyway). The heavy rain smacked into his windows pointedly and purposefully; with every loud drop it made his lip twitch in annoyance.

The air was sharp and frosted, it burned his nose when he breathed in too deeply and it made him wonder if Alfred forgot to turn the heat on — better yet if you turned it off, knowing you hated to fall asleep too warm and Alfred was too meticulous and thorough to forget to turn it off at all.

It was dingy and dismal, dark and dreary just as Bruce preferred it to be, so little going on for him to be so awake and agitated but yet… maybe that was just it. The silence, the boredom, the macabre sense of monotony on an unfamiliarly quiet Saturday night — so little going on it was driving him mad.

Bruce stared up at the ceiling with his arms laid out on his shirtless stomach, restless but tired. His limbs were sore and heavy, his body bruised and battered, yet his dark eyes couldn’t help but flicker over to his window ever so often when he thought about what was on the other side of it — the source of his calamity.

He’d stare through the droplets of water at the blurred kaleidoscope of lights as they shone onto his floor, not eagerly per say just habitually; Bruce seldom ever saw a peaceful night in, so unaccustomed with the sweet domesticity of crawling under the covers at 10:30 pm and kissing your lover goodnight — he was usually so busy, for Gotham never slept and crime never seemed to stop.

No, Bruce couldn’t sleep; his thoughts a morbid mess of batman-esque obligation that made it impossible to close his eyes.

You were a different matter entirely as Bruce turned his head to look at you; snuggled up on your side of the large bed with his thick, black comforter surrounding you, breathing gently on the muscle of his shoulder and sleeping soundly, beautifully.

His pretty little wife.

His eyes looked over the sharp shadows of your sleeping beauty. From your wispy eyelashes, to your cute little nose, to your softly parted lips, a soft smile adorning the corner of his mouth as he did — he couldn’t help it.

Your hair was frizzy and tangled messily around your head, your soft breaths ever so often stuttered with an adorable snore but Bruce couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked anyway as he raked his eyes over your face fondly.

As he did he realized how grateful he was that you didn’t need to worry yourself with the things that he did; you were too innocent for the cruelty of Gotham City, too pure and divine; an angel wrapped in wicked tapestry.

Even now, in your pale white pajamas on black silken sheets you looked too fragile for them, like they could wrap their shadowy arms around you and swallow you whole — just as the city could so easily do if he wasn’t there to protect you.

If Batman wasn’t there to save you.

I don’t care, Bruce. I love you anyway.

That’s what you’d always say when Bruce would settle down in bed beside you with a heavy sigh and whisper why do you stay?, on those long nights when he’d come home brutally battered and fatigued. After a night of being heavily reminded to the real dangers waiting just outside his door like a pack of feral dogs and how easily they could ensnare you in their jaws.

I don’t care. I love you.

He loved you too, he really very did.

With that final thought, Bruce was still caught staring at you with a soft look of love on his face when you gently fluttered your eyes open, your body sensing his awareness before your mind could.

He watched patiently as you groggily looked around before eventually meeting his gaze, his eyes getting even softer at the adorable look of confusion on your face.

Your eyes tiredly looked back up at him despite the darkness surrounding you two, able to see his frowned lips and dark eyes clearly, “Bruce? Why are you still awake?”

Your voice was raspy and tired, a small yawn following your statement that made pity tear at his heart for waking you up.

Bruce ran his hazel eyes over your face some more before he responded, unable to stop cherishing you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He simply responded, voice low and intimate, words spoken in the bare space between his lips and yours.

You settled into your silken pillow with a small huff, eyes focused more on Bruce’s face now as the grogginess gradually melted away and your vision became clearer — the silence and rain thrumming calmly around you. It wasn’t a normal night in Gotham City without the rain.

“Well, did you try?” You teased just as quietly as he, smiling a little at the chuckle he gave you in response.

“Yes, of course I tried. It clearly didn’t go as planned.” Bruce mumbled back with a faint snicker, speaking just loud enough so you can hear him over the rain pattering on the windows, a small smile now quirked on his sharp lips.

You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes looking between his, knowing Bruce well enough to know when he was lying.

“I don’t really believe you. What’s keeping you awake?” You sighed with furrowed brows, resting your head right next to his bare shoulder to look up at him better — maybe if you pouted in that cute way he liked he’d tell you honestly.

Bruce faltered at that, looking down at you with a heavy heart; he couldn’t possibly tell you that he felt guilty laying in bed with you when he should’ve been out there, out there protecting those who needed him. But the fact of the matter, one he couldn’t argue with, was that you needed him as well.

He couldn’t possibly tell you how conflicted he really was but probably shouldn’t have been; two parts of him sharing the same mind and body but each with entirely different obligations — the irreconcilable duality that was he.

One part of him was Bruce Wayne; millionaire, orphan, husband, you needed that side of him, you deserved to have him for at least one night. But he was also Batman, and Gotham always needed him.

He was haunted with a classic case of Jekyll and Hyde but instead of one side lusting for murderous intent his alter ego longed for rightful justice in the grandest city of injustice. Batman was the only one who could live harmoniously in the dark, the only one capable of doing the things he did. It was an enervative dichotomous life of matrimonial duties and moral obligation.

There were two men sharing the same halves of the same soul and Bruce couldn’t decide which heart to listen to without making the other one feel guilty.

“Just work stuff, honey. It’s nothing you need to worry about, trust me.” Bruce dismissed after a short moment, shaking his head gently with a reassuring smile on his thin lips — like that could convince you of anything.

You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, registering the slight blue bags under his eyes and the crippled fault in his smile, all small clues of his devious, well-intentioned deception.

“Which work stuff?” You prodded carefully, raising a brow at him as suspicions already began to brew in the back of your mind as to what he was really referring.

Bruce chuckled again at that, loving your caring and inquisitive nature any day but wishing you’d just drop it already. He really couldn’t bear weighing any of the pressure he carried on your delicate shoulders, fearing you’d crumble under the weight of it.

“Really, it’s…” Bruce looked back up at the ceiling in indecision, searching for the right words, “it’s nothing I can’t handle, okay?” He looked back down at you with confidence, his voice firmer than before but still softly spoken to get his point across.

You narrowed your eyes at him with that, knowing it was a response you fully expected but were still annoyed to hear.

You were aware that he was lying to you but also aware that he wouldn’t tell you no matter how much you begged him; he never liked to tell you anything about his Batman related problems and it greatly frustrated you for some reason.

As his wife didn’t you deserve to know at least something? You were fully aware of what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to his long awaited proposal. After all, you didn’t just marry Bruce Wayne but you married Batman as well… you could handle the truth even if he didn’t seem to think so.

You sighed anyway, unable to mask your irritation towards him for keeping you in the dark. Your lack of sleep didn’t help the influx of annoyance either.

You took your head off his warm shoulder and went to turn around away from him, your fatigue easily irritating you more than usual.

Bruce licked his lips and sighed, having already disappointed you in an attempt to protect you; a small price to pay if it meant your pretty little head wasn’t clogged with constant, pained disquietude like his was.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” You muttered more to yourself than anything, fussing with the blanket you had wrapped yourself in during your slumber and now seemed to be stuck in.

Before you could fully turn around though Bruce laid a warm, consoling hand on your forearm that made you pause, “Hey, hey, wait.”

You lingered a moment at the feel of it before turning back around to face him, expression a little more sour than before — tired and impatient.

Bruce felt guilt swirl in his stomach at the look on your face, knowing he was disappointing you but also knowing it was for the best.

He kept the hand on your arm, leaning up and wrapping it around your back to bring you into his chest, his other arm going behind your neck and tucking you into his side like you were his most precious doll — you were of course.

You didn’t fight him even if you wanted to, enjoying the warmth he provided and the safety you subconsciously sought out snuck tight in between his arms.

“Bruce.” You grumbled anyway as you settled against him, his arm releasing you for a moment to pick the blanket up and over his waist so there was nothing separating you two from each other.

You felt hard plains of muscle underneath you when he did, a flustered pinkness appearing on your cheeks, then slowly crept in hot embarrassment at the fact that your husband’s carefully structured body that you’ve seen many many times still managed to make you shy.

You melted into his side, albeit a bit stiffly as you were still annoyed with him and wanted to blatantly show it, your arms stubbornly slotted against your chest to separate yourself from laying completely on his.

When Bruce was done adjusting the blanket, the bed moving as he did, he settled still and looked down at you with those kind eyes of his you loved so much, the ones that always flustered you when you stared back into them for too long.

The arm behind your neck pushed you closer to him while he took his right hand and wrapped it around your chin, his palm so warm and big against your jaw that you couldn’t help but sigh in submission.

Bruce gently forced you to look up at him, his eyes staring down at you softly but earnestly.

“Alright, hey, don’t be like that with me. If there was something I thought you really needed to know I’d tell you. Otherwise, it’s best I keep that side of myself as private from you as possible. I hate the thought of you being in danger because of me, because I exposed you to that side of myself you didn’t need to see.” Bruce whispered genuinely, minty breath fanning over your nose as you stared up at him, seemingly calm now and even just a little regretful for being so upset with him in the first place.

“Just give it a rest honey, alright? I promise you, it’s nothing you need to worry about. Do I ever go back on my promises, hmm?” He said sweetly, looking down at you with insistent but loving eyes in the expectation of you responding.

You paused for a moment as you registered his words, still curious to know what he was really thinking about because you just couldn’t help it. You worried for him, wished he’d be more open with you so you could help him in whatever way you could. However, you also didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was either, your mind picturing all the purple bruises littering his beautiful body pitifully.

So, you just shook your head like a scolded child, “No… you don’t.” You’d have to bite your tongue for now, pouting up at him cutely — Bruce was just too sweet to argue with sometimes and he knew it.

Bruce gave you a charming smile, gray shadow washed over the angles of his straight nose and narrow cheeks. His brown hair was more unkempt than usual, wavy tendrils of it fallen around his face. He looked so handsome, more tranquil this way, as he leaned down and gave you a peck on the forehead, a sweet hum sounding in the back of his throat.

“That’s my girl.”

You sighed happily, giving in to him completely now and wrapping an arm around his chest so you could burrow against him; he wrapped his arm around you tighter instinctually, enjoying the feel of you against him as he looked up at the ceiling in content.

Nothing was better than being with you, so much so that Batman himself felt satiated from his lonely perch in the back of Bruce’s mind.

You stared out the large, arched window on his wall for a few quiet moments, watching as the rain quickly fell down the glass one by one as Bruce softly traced his textured fingertips along the spine of your back.

“It always rains, you ever notice that?” You murmured tiredly against his skin, in a daze from the tingling sensation on your skin as he caressed your back in gentle, loving touches.

Bruce looked away from you a moment when you spoke to spare the window a disinterested glance, “What? You don’t like the rain, Mrs. Wayne?” He teased you, his spirits higher than before as he looked back down at you even if you couldn’t see, his nose filled with the sweet smelling shampoo you used — coconut and vanilla.

You smiled a little — you loved when he called you that.

“Well of course you do. You’re Batman, you’re supposed to like depressing things.” You spoke with a smile, only teasing him as your eyes drifted shut from the comfort of his body against yours, muscles melting against the black sheets nestled between his own.

Bruce chucked at that, his hand ceasing its calming motion, “oh, is that right?”

You hummed with an amused smile on your lips, nodding your head, “mmhmm, yes sir.”

Bruce scoffed playfully at that, looking down at you with a fond playfulness in his eyes before gently taking his muscled arm out from underneath your head.

You lifted your head up curiously to look at him, wishing for the moment to not be disturbed, only to be gently rolled over so that Bruce was laid on top of you and you were now sunken into the inky black abyss of cushions beneath him. Your lips parted in a slight gasp, staring up at him with those beautiful eyes he loved so much in surprise.

“Now now, Mrs. Wayne, don’t go calling me that unless you plan on doing something about it, it’s in bad taste.”

You giggled at that, a joyous and twinkling sound that made Bruce tense up, his eyes darting towards your lips and his heart quickening in his chest. You always had such an effect on him even if you didn’t know it.

“How ‘bout you do something about it then?” You whispered up to him sensually, voice low and playful. You could feel the air surrounding the little bubble you two found yourselves in change heavily as you ran your hands softly over his midsection, his light skin cold and soft, muscles hard and firm as you traced your fingers delicately over each individual ab until Bruce was twitching at the feeling.

He glanced down at your hands hotly, already worked up from your minuscule touches alone, his skin tingling from the sensation as a familiar heat started to twirl in his lower tummy.

He looked back down at you, eyes more hooded now but just as eagerly as rain pounded on the windows somewhere in the background — you couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of his warm breaths and the gradual throbbing between your own legs.

“Yeah? Would you like if I did something about it, Mrs. Wayne?” Your husband mumbled huskily, a teasing smirk on his lips as he lowered down closer until his face was just above yours, his big arms pressed into the pillow on each side of your head so you were surrounded by him.

He could see the way you inhaled at the name, felt the way your nails dug into his skin for a subtle, fleeting moment. He always knew all the right ways to turn you on, knew all the right words to say to make you melt in his hands like warm syrup — you were certainly just as sweet.

You stared up at your husband with heavy breaths, mouth watering for a taste of him, eyes blown black with love and unabashed want as he sat in the reflection of your irises. Your skin felt hot and your thighs tightened around his waist, arms aimlessly tracing the ridges of muscle that coated Bruce’s front; it was in an innocently naive way now, so unaware of how badly it was affecting Bruce himself as your initial confidence dwindled down to need.

You impatiently waited for him to make a move, give into the desire you both so clearly felt as your eyes ran over his shirtless body and perfect face in the mean time. With every exhale of breath out of his mouth you found yourself inhaling it back in, breathing his air and smelling of Bruce’s aftershave, Bruce’s shampoo, it was all just Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.

He had completely overwhelmed your senses with his smell, his presence, his very existence and it was making it hard to think clearly — only he plagued your thoughts so much it made your fingertips buzz to feel more of him.

It was in moments like these where the sheer size of Bruce was brought to your attention; he was much more muscular than you, all sharp edges and ridges of pure muscle and destruction that could destroy anything he put his hands on.

It was ironic to you, how those same hands that broke bones were the same hands that caressed your skin in the softest of touches, in the softest of ways, irrevocably incapable of breaking you.

Bruce believed he was all carnal ruination — hands made to break and fists made to destroy. He believed he had a dark side in him he couldn’t control, that Batman was the outlet for all the frustration he felt towards the injustices of the city and how easily it corrupted the lightest of souls. He believed he was made to hurt, to cause ruin — a reason why he never took a single human soul no matter how rotten it was.

But you believed he didn’t give himself enough credit, which is exactly why moments like these were so important to remind him.

You swallowed nervously now as you looked back into his eyes, your fingers faltering in their movement as they stilled on the angles of his hips, right outside the tight band of his black sweatpants.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne, that’s exactly what I want.” You whispered back up to him in a velvety soft tone, eyes looking at his pink lips and then flickering back up between his hazel irises lustfully; the look in them was too intense for you to handle but you sufficed, your heart thrumming passionately under your skin at the attention.

Bruce almost melted at the name, just as affected by the title as you were, lowering his face down until his nose was touching yours, his lips hovering right above your own.

“That’s my girl…” Bruce breathed thickly against your lips, his eyes flickering to your mouth as yours did the same to his, your mouth salivating for a taste of him.

A silent beat passed as you both just stayed in that position, locked into each other’s loving gazes and gentle touches, his lips just a whisper away from yours screaming to have you, to taste you. It was intimate and warm, quiet, your body feeling fuzzy and alight with something similar to deep admiration and not so far from a deep, shared love for each other.

There was no playfulness about it now.

It was then, when the tension had sizzled into flame did Bruce finally lean down and kiss you, his lips soft and cold, so contrasting from the warmth he sought in yours as the rain pattered on the windows and your angelic essence drowned him further into the depths of you.

You moaned softly, feeling relief flood through you as your hands gripped his hips for some sort of anchor off the clouds you seemed to be floating on. Bruce kissed you lovingly, a characteristic act of tenderness as he found his own needy noises hum in the back of his throat.

It was sweet and slow, lips careful and gentle against each other between delicate sighs and hums. He tasted of peppermint and the faint drawl of bourbon, his tongue damping your lips and your shared saliva wet on your mouths.

He seperated from you just for a short moment, your lips feeling the loss but not for too long before he was on you once more with a fervor, tongue molding between your lips forcefully and sucking yours into the warmth of his mouth.

You whined at the sudden confidence within him, lips barely moving against his as he took control of your movements and gave you no other option but to take what he gave you — his lips and his tongue tangling with yours messily as sensual rumbles sounded deep from within in his chest.

He brought a hand down from the pillow and intertwined it in your hair, tangling his thick fingers into your roots and pulling hard enough to arouse you further. It made your back arch and lips part in a salacious gasp.

Bruce found himself unable to part from your delectable taste for long, taking that moment to reconnect his damp lips to the skin between your chin and shoulder. He forced your head back as he kissed your neck, the cold air hitting every damp spot in a pleasurable tingling sensation that had your nails digging into his abs.

“Bruce…” You sighed oh so sweetly in a distracted state of mind, just wanting to say his name and have him hear how good he was making you feel with his simple kisses alone — a feat he always accomplished anytime he did.

The praise didn’t fall on deaf ears but he was too preoccupied with the sound of your heavy breaths and whines to really pay attention, too love drunk on the smoothness of your skin falling over his tongue as he licked his way down to your collarbone. He released his grip on your hair and his hands made idle work in caressing their way down your body to the hem of your white pajama top.

His hands were eager, so familiar on the curves of your body as they slid back up to your chest, hands big and desperate as they tightly gripped your bosom for a fleeting moment that had you moaning at the sting — he was handsy, unable to get enough of you and the way your body perfectly slotted between the strength and ridges of his hands.

His cock was already hard in his slacks, poking against your thigh absentmindedly as his hands dug into the center of your top and adamantly ripped it right down the middle. The buttons flew over the bed and your tits spilled out of the ripped material in a gorgeous ripple of flesh that had Bruce groaning at the sight.

“So beautiful, so gorgeous, just fucking perfect…” He mumbled in a lustful daze, more to himself as a factual observation, his hands now gripping your waist, eager mouth leaning down and making quick work to lap at your chest in the way he knew you liked.

You giggled dreamily at that, feeling fluttery and lightheaded at the praise, body warm and melting like a cube of butter on top of his silk bed sheets. He was always capable of making you melt with just a few loving words and caresses, another one of his talents.

Your hands had found their way into his thick hair, massaging at the loose strands when you decided it was impossible to stay still from the buzzing running through your pores.

Your pussy throbbed in your pajama shorts, painfully so, stomach in tight knots at the sparks shooting down to your core from his ministrations.

He found himself enthralled by the feeling of your tit in his mouth, fervently sucking on the skin there as his hands gripped into your waist so tight in a subconsciously possessive hold so you could never leave. Maybe it was the semblance of Batman himself leaking out from under tight fingertips, a degree of fierce protection in the way he held you underneath him, unable to be taken or destroyed by the same evil he fought almost every night.

You were here with him, with him and all of his burdens for the rest of your lives.

“So gorgeous…”

Bruce was lost in the pleasure you helplessly moaned in his ears, feeling his own mutual desire swirling in his tummy and thrumming through his skin that made every touch feel like fire, every kiss an ember from the flame until you and him were intertwined ash lost in the black smoke.

He loved you, his pretty wife, always so supportive and forgiving in the moments he definitely didn’t deserve it.

He picked his head up, panting and lips wet, your chest littered in pink marks and damp with his spit as Bruce licked his lips, hungry for more already.

You looked at him in all his glory, admiringly, just as enamored with him as he was with you as your warm hands slid down to his cheeks. Your own were flushed pink and feverish, breath warm and heavy as you lovingly ran your palm over his sharp cheekbone. His skin was soft, smooth and tepid under your dainty fingertips.

You gently caressed the faint purple of a bruise with your thumb, right in the hollow of his eye.

Bruce leaned into the tender action for a spared moment of comfort, his eyes hooded and twinkling in the dark as he breathed heavily against your lips. He kept finding himself absent in the presence of your beauty, staring at your face and your lips and being so thankful he had you at all.

“So beautiful…” He breathed gingerly, eyes looking over your face like he was seeing you for the first time — no, he was selfish in his blatant admiration of your magnificence, his heart throbbing almost painfully in his love for you as he watched the soft corners of your mouth twist into a shy smile at your devotees idolatrous attention.

He leaned down after a fond moment of your thumb tracing his cheekbone, after he was satisfied with his generous intake of your prettiness. He pecked an affectionate kiss on your smiling lips before dipping his head down and laying several kisses to your neck once more.

You bit your lip at the sensitive feeling, closing your eyes, lost in the feel of him, as he pampered you with doting kisses all the way down to your ribcage, his hands now playing with the hem of your shorts but not too boldly as to take them off quite yet.

“You’re everything, you know that? I could never imagine my life without you… you’re perfect, so perfect.” He rubbed your stomach adoringly, “Your body is perfect, so beautiful, I can’t believe you ever married me…” He mumbled in that rough voice of his, vulnerable in the night, in the moment when you couldn’t see him all the way clearly but he could see all of you just fine.

You could feel another smile playing on your lips — not that it had even left — the heavy sensation of happy tears casting a light sheen over your eyes. He was the perfect one, he was the gorgeous and beautiful counterpart of you that didn’t seem to realize his own value. You only wished you had the poetic spark in yourself that he had, then you’d be able to voice it properly. Still, his praise made your heart swell as he took your left hand and kissed the diamond ring on your finger amorously.

“Oh, Bruce…” You spoke in a hushed manner, voice wobbling from the overwhelming infatuation you had for the man, so thankful and grateful for such a man as wonderful as he. In your eyes the sudden romance had come out of nowhere, but it was still greatly appreciated as it caused your voice to thicken with the downpour of love it had spiked.

He looked into your eyes as he warmly kissed your palm, lips quirked slightly, eliciting another tender hearted smile from you. He then let you settle your hands back on his shoulders as he slotted himself between your hips, the affectionate moment lingering in the air as you pet his wide shoulders.

You were laid on your back, smooth thighs spread to accommodate his size between them, pajama top ripped down the middle in fragmented material hanging off your shoulders, your tits pooled on your chest and wet with his kisses. Your hair was tangled, fanned around your head, lips pink and plushy from all his salacious kisses, your eyes glittering erotically bright.

Despite that, you were not uncomfortable to be so exposed to him, exposed in a way you’d only ever be with him. You knew he would never judge you nor your body, that he loved you and all your freckles and scars and all the blemishes you considered imperfections — he loved them all. The only part of you not seen were covered by the shorts Bruce was already eager to take off.

You were beautiful to him, ethereal even, just as he said you were an angel, something divine and pure, a holy deity completely out of this world that transcended the mortal plane he was bound to, letting his lowly lips and hands cherish your merciful soul and body. Just oh so perfect.

“I love you…” You whispered, pathetically cute, down to him, a whisper wafting into his ears soft and fragile as if you were scared he wouldn’t say it back — he’d say it everyday for a thousand years if he had the blessing of living that long with you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulsing with need, as you smiled down at him sweetly.

“I love you more, Mrs. Wayne… I love you more…” He breathed hotly against your stomach, already leaning down and peppering sugarcoated kisses along your pelvis, so much closer to where you really needed him that the throbbing had become unbearably intense, wetness soaking your inner thighs and cream colored shorts. You felt your body shiver at the title once more.

You swallowed shakily as Bruce moved down, his daft fingers hooking into the band of your shorts and gently shoving them down to your knees as his longing lips reached the band of your lavender laced panties.

Your thighs tightened around his head as cool air hit your wet center, your body sensitive and pulsing heavy notes of desire straight into your pussy that made it hard to keep your head up and eyes open.

You just needed him, needed him and his expert mouth to bring you some sort of relief. Your toes were curled already, pussy clenching around nothing and spewing out clear juices that only damped your underwear further. You tangled your fingers into his hair heatedly, resisting the urge to shove his head down where you really wanted him.

Bruce swallowed hungrily, staring at your panty-clad pussy with dark eyes. He could smell your sweetness on his nose, the rain pattering on the windows still and the room still dark as sin but he could see his heaven clear as day, hypnotized by the patch of wetness in your panties, molded to the shape of your pussy lips and begging to be ripped apart.

His eyes flickered up to you, feeling your grabby fingers tangled in his hair as your thighs tensed back and forth around his neck.

Your head was barely held up, eyes hooded and sparkling with a form of lustful desperation as you stared down at him. Your chest bobbing up and down heavily and your skin radiant and smooth, the city lights from his window blurredly reflected in the fat of your cheeks. You already looked destroyed, like he had just fucked your brains out yet he really hadn’t done a thing.

“Bruce, come on…” You whined in a delicate plea when he made no movement further, hands barely pulling his hair but it was hard enough for his skin to prickle in pleasure, a hiss leaving his lips, just hard enough to get your message across.

He snickered at that, lips shiny and jaw chiseled, his face so sharp yet soft at the same time. His beauty greatly perplexed you for how could a mere mortal be so fucking handsome? He was though, he was strong and big and riddled with scars and imperfections yet the accumulation of all those little faults are what made him flawless.

Bruce himself felt the throbs of impatience nestled in his stomach, burrowed in his heart, buzzing at his fingertips, as he looked down at your pussy once more just inches from his mouth, both wet and watering for the other.

“Be patient, honey. I just wanna look at ‘cha first. You’re so pretty, dripping wet for me…” He had the audacity to murmur in that cocky voice of his, yet simultaneously genuine and stunned at the observation as his hands rubbed your thighs, being sure to heartily press into the tissue in that way he knew you liked.

You couldn’t help but pull his hair some more, bursting at the seams for some sort of pleasure you feared it would boil over and you’d explode. You felt frustration settle through your veins once more like molten lava, your skin tensing and thighs aching from their tight grip around his neck.

“Bruce, no more teasing, please? Just please…” You moaned and whined like a stubborn girl, voice thick with need and painful yearning that made his cock twitch in his pants. You almost sounded broken, voice fragmented with a certain torment only his mouth and fingers could appease.

He licked his lips, feeling desire swell in his lower tummy at the state of you — already so incapable of any thought but the memory of his cock inside you, the feeling of his fingers drilling into your tight hole as he spat and licked on your sensitive clit. It was all you could think about, all you could picture in your mind as your head laid back on the pillows and you scooted down the bed until your pussy was right in his face.

The blanket had long since been forgotten, bunched around his hips and aiding as a nice cushion for his abdomen hunched over the end of the bed.

Bruce felt himself chuckle huskily at your shameless neediness, his big hands stopping on your plush inner thighs as he settled down between your legs on the soft mattress, getting himself comfortable for you.

You breathed heavily, eyes closed as you laid back on the silken pillow with your face crumbled so cutely. He was such a tease even when he was meant to be sweet, even when he was insistent on being a good husband who doted on his wife whenever he could — you guessed growing up rich gave him that arrogant edge.

Your stomach was knotted so tight, your skin hot and shivering for some sort of touch as your fingers dug themselves into the roots of his damp, brown hair. You needed him so bad, but your pussy needed him worse.

You felt your thighs tickle as Bruce lightly traced the pads of his fingers down, down, down until he was at the crook of your inner thigh, his right hand digging into the flesh of your leg like he himself couldn’t hold back from you anymore.

Bruce didn’t bother voicing any teasing quips or dirty statements, knowing you were so out of it you wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Every fiber of your being was hooked on his touches, hyper aware of the spots his fingers trickled across, eager for some degree of pleasure that would make this painful waiting period worth it.

He swallowed down the salvia pooling in his throat, so hungry for a taste of you, starved almost. His index finger hooked into your panties and delicately pushed them out of the way until they were bunched in the crook of your thigh. His eyes were met with your soaking wet slit in all its glory.

White, creamy arousal stuck to your panties and dripped down your pulsing hole into the crack of your ass, sheer white beads of cum dribbled down your needy hole that would escape his tongue before he even got a proper taste of you yet.

The cool air made you whine behind closed lips, your voice high pitched and desperate now, your fingers tighter in his hair as your hips subtly bucked forward. The beautiful noises you were making made Bruce’s jaw clench.

You were glistening, shiny with arousal and the strings of impenitent want, evidence of your desire and love for him as he found himself inhaling the scent of you once more.

You smelt so good. He found himself groaning at the musky sweetness, his finger still hooked around the crotch of your panties as his other hand tightly gripped your thigh — you moaned softly at the pressure, sure that there would be the faint yellow bruises of his adoring fingerprints pressed into your skin tomorrow. A charming reminder of the evening when they blossomed.

You felt your core clench once more, thighs tensing up as wetness shone in his greedy irises.

Bruce was unable to wait any longer, his mouth salivating and his eyes blown black as he pressed his tongue into your wet hole and licked a bold stripe all the way up to your buzzing clit, the taste of your arousal pooled on his tongue and already dripping down the sharp corners of his mouth.

You couldn’t stop the loud moan from echoing in the room, euphoric sounding as sweet sparks went off all over your skin at the long awaited contact. Your fingers tightly anchored themselves in Bruce’s hair as his tongue went up and down your folds, gathering as much of your wetness in his mouth as he could.

His hands swiftly dug themselves into your hips to hold you down once you started writhing in his hold. His tongue forcefully circled your clit in sharp wet strokes, deep rumbled moans escaping his chest that vibrated the sensitivity of it and only made more wetness gush out of you and soak his chin.

You tasted so good, so fucking good; he wanted nothing more than to be drowned in your essence, choking on everything you gave him until his belly was full and even then he wouldn’t be satisfied, he’d never be satisfied. He was like a monster, chasing every little drop of cum that pebbled out of your clenching hole with a forked tongue, greedy and carnivorous like you were the only nectar he ever wanted to taste again.

His tongue lapped your pussy once more as you gasped, back arched and toes clenched as he thrusted his tongue into you over and over, wet and messily as your juices shimmered on his cheeks and lips.

No, he decided, the beast within him would never be tamed.

You bucked away from his mouth in a pathetic attempt to free yourself from the overwhelming pleasure, but Bruce held you down with his strong arms, staring up at you with furrowed brows of concentration as his lips molded over your puffy clit once more, swollen from need and his relentless licking.

He was nothing if not devoted, devoted to your elegance, to your holy figure and endless love as he lapped at you desperately, his tongue swirling your clit as the fabric of your panties tickled his nose. He couldn’t get enough, pushing deeper and harder until your wetness was messily smeared on his mouth and face, eating more and tasting more until his entire being was smothered with your cum inside and out.

“Bruce, o-oh my god!” You squealed wantonly, one hand now gripping the black sheets between tight fingers as your other hand remained in his hair, following the movements of his head as he went up and down, side to side until not an inch of you wasn’t covered in his salvia.

He breathed hotly against you, his eyes closed as he savored the feel of you in his mouth and trickling down his throat. He couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t listen to reason as all he could focus on was you and your cum, tasting you, licking you, having you in every sense of the word. No one could tear him away from you, not now, not when he was so close to having you cum in his mouth and reaching his final purpose.

You were so close, you could feel it in your tummy. Your hole clenching around his tongue as he went back and forth from your clit and your soaked hole, wanting to pleasure you but simultaneously wanting to taste you for his own pleasure.

Your toes curled, stomach tightened, hands gripping the sheets as your mouth flew open in sporadic moans and gasps, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your thighs squeezed around Bruce so tight you’d fear he’d never surface from between your legs again.

He wouldn’t have a problem with that.

Bruce picked his head up only high enough to talk, lips dripping and almost incoherent as he mumbled deeply into the wet folds of your pussy like he couldn’t bear to part, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, Mrs. Wayne, make me proud, cum in my mouth.” As he voiced this his one hand crept down and slyly inserted themselves into the tight confine of your warmth, his index and middle fingers pushing inside you, so long and so big it made you cry out.

It was wet and warm, your juices slapping against his knuckles as he circled his fingers inside you, pushing on the spot he knew he was supposed to as his mouth eagerly returned to your clit. He looked up at you, eyes dark and heavy as he stared at your tits jiggling with every thrash of your hips, every arch of your back and every gasp out of your pretty, dampened lips.

He groaned into you at the sight, feeling his cock achingly hard in his pants as he sucked your clit into the warmth of his mouth and refused to let go, tongue prodding the area skillfully and harshly. He wasn’t going to stop this time, not until you were creaming around his fingers and leaking down his neck.

The air was so thick and stuffy that you couldn’t help but pant fervently, your body prickled with pleasure and overwhelming sensations that made it hard to focus on anything but his fingers inside you, long and lithe, slipping in and out as the sounds of your wetness clouded your ears and muffled your moans.

Bruce himself was lost in you, tongue and lips a glistening mess as they lapped and circled and sucked every part of your pussy exposed to him, it felt so good it stung — he was groaning into you softly, pleasure building in his tummy and rumbling through his mouth to your already so sensitive clit.

It was then, just a few short moments after his fingers wormed their way inside your tight walls, just a few short moments after he sucked your clit into his mouth did you feel your stomach relax, thighs squeeze around his head so hard he felt himself go dizzy.

“Ahh, O-oh my god, Bruce!” You moaned so blissfully, so sweetly, as your juices squirted onto his chin and his fingers squelched inside you.

Bruce moaned at the feeling, fingers gently sliding out of your clenching hole so his tongue could catch all the cum pouring out. You whimpered at the feeling of his mouth still on you, lapping at your hole like a dehydrated villager kneeling at a prosperous fountain, your skin pasty and so so hot.

He lapped at your pussy a few more times, up and down, ensuring he got his fill for the evening as faint tremors wracked your body in the aftershocks of his giving nature. You were flat on the bed now, belly sore from the tightness it held for so long, legs limp and body spent as you panted gently, heart throbbing in your ears.

You managed to lazily caress his sweaty hair though as Bruce surfaced from between your legs, face glistening and lips sore and pink. He looked manic, hair pulled and tangled and messily scattered on his face yet he seemed to be glowing at the same time, like he had never felt so alive and it made you want to giggle.

He sniffled, looking up at you with an impish grin, the taste of you lingering in his mouth and staining his nose. His hands fondly massaged your shaking thighs, noting your wrecked appearance and tired eyes, your sweaty skin flushed and warm.

He couldn’t help it as he glanced down at the mess he made, your slippery wet folds and the large patch of wetness staining his sheets.

“Mrs. Wayne, pardon my brashness of course,” He said almost sarcastically, breathless and rugged, an amused smile quirked on his lips as he leaned forward and embraced your hand with his, “but you taste utterly divine.”

⋆˚࿔ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @little-miss-chaoss — I hope it’s okay I tagged you, you said you wanted to be tagged in everything 😭🙌🏻

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