| pairing: Yangyang x fem!Reader
| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Unprotected vaginal sex. Creampie. CNC themes. "Forced" breeding. Breeding kink. Mentions of exhibitionism. YY curses in German. Pet names-- YY calls reader "his bunny" (that'll be a recurring theme if i ever write about him again) and reader calls him "little sheep".
| wc: 2.5k
| aurora's note: …I’m on a cnc kick. Sorry. Blame Twitter. I was about .0002 seconds away from adding mommy kink to this too, ok. Everyone say "thank you, aurora" for sparing you all lmao
You’ve been teasing Yangyang for so long that he’s beginning to wonder if he did something wrong— He dyed his hair pink for you since he knows how much you like it! And he did the laundry, all the dishes, he cleaned the house, made you dinner on your anniversary… Where did he go wrong? But it’s not that he upset you. Quite the opposite, actually, because ever since he dyed his hair for you, all you’ve wanted to do is fuck him 24/7. You wanted to keep him home from work all day, every day just for the sake of milking him dry… and you didn’t care if he’d sleep or not… You just- Fuck- You needed him so badly, but you knew that you couldn’t have what you wanted, so you withdrew slightly, trying your best to keep your hands to yourself because if you slipped up for even a moment then you’d have to go all in.
“Can you pass me the gochujang?” Yangyang asked as he stirred the pan on the stovetop. You agreed with a nod, opening the cupboard above your head to grab it from the first shelf, only… it wasn’t there like normal. No, it was higher up on the third shelf, a tad out of your reach. “You got it?”
“Yeah, one sec.” You stretched up high to grab the container, but your finger tips only grazed it, sending it shuffling an inch backwards. You huffed. “Who the Hell put it where it doesn’t belong?” Still, you tried your best, even putting a knee up on the counter to give you something to push up on to get more height.
“Don’t hurt yourself—“ Yangyang immediately abandoned the stove to step behind you, hands firmly grasping your hips to hold you steady while you finally got the gochujang and landed back on the floor safely.
You hesitated. Standing pressed against the counter, Yangyang’s hands on your hips, his breath hot on the back of your neck… You were slipping into dangerous territory which you’d tried so hard to avoid for so damn long. So you attempted to avoid the inevitable and shrug off his touch by accusing him of not putting the gochujang where it belonged! He apologized quietly. But his hands didn’t waver like you wanted, instead they tightened on your hips, and he pressed further against you. Inadvertently, your gaze flicked to the clock on the stove. 7PM. Dinner was supposed to be ready by 7:30PM so that he could go work out with Kun and Hendery at 8PM, then he would be home and in bed with you by 10PM— And you would pretend to be asleep like usual in order to avoid having him think he could finally fuck you.
“The food’s gonna burn,” you warned quietly.
Yangyang reached over to turn off the stove. The sizzling in the pan slowly died out, and the kitchen went quiet,
“You’re gonna be late to the gym.”
“I’ll cancel,” he whispered in your ear.
“You have work tomorrow.”
“I’ll call in sick.”
“You can’t fall behind in rehearsals before tour.”
“Not much anyone can do about it if I’m sick…”
And then Yangyang’s lips were pressed against your neck, leaving soft, gentle, teasing kisses, as if he were waiting for you to elbow him and kick him out of the apartment because all you’d done for weeks is look the other way when he showed any interest in fucking you. The erection pressed against your ass proved just how torturous those long weeks without your attention had been. How could you neglect him? He did so much for you. All he wanted was you…
Suddenly you spun around, letting Yangyang readjust his grasp onto the opposite hips now that you were facing him, and you immediately began kissing him passionately. He seemed a bit caught off guard. For the first few moments, he didn’t kiss you back, but once you tangled your fingers in his long pink hair, he was a goner, kissing you with so much passion that you tilted back into the counter, your head brushing the cupboard you’d fought with minutes prior. His hands wandered down until he found the soft spot right under your ass where he could grab you and lift you onto the counter, the perfect height for him to fuck you.
It was completely unceremonial the way Yangyang pulled your pants down to your ankles and you simultaneously tore his shirt off his body all at the speed of light— Like the two of you were a pair of starved dogs who couldn’t hold back from feasting on their next meal. Your shirt went next, then his pants and underwear. Yangyang fiddled with your bra for a moment before unclasping it with a victorious moan vibrating against your nipple that he took into his mouth. The hold you hand on his pink hair tightened, urging him to move things along faster, having him stand up straight so that he could palm his erection with one hand while the other fell down to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit while two fingers teased your entrance to get you wet at quicker pace. You moaned, pulling him in for another deep kiss.
What happened to holding back? You promised yourself that you wouldn’t give in— Especially now when he was feeding your delusions about lying to his friends, coworkers, and bosses about his wellbeing just so he could stay home with you all day to fuck you dumb… or vice versa, if you ever had it your way. Honestly, you were distracted by the surprise that his hair was still so soft after all the dye and products he had to use to keep it such a bright pink color, and even then it was already fading, so he would have to decide sooner than later if he wanted to freshen it up or dye it a different color. Knowing hair dye, you knew that the pink wouldn’t come out or be covered up easily, so the unfortunate reality was that he would have to go a dark color… You hated that. The best thing in the entire world was whenever he would come home with some kind of new bright hair, like his famous pink or your favorite platinum or gray colors.
“Why’ve you been ignoring me?” he asked prior to a quiet grunt as he slid his fingers into your wet hole.
“Because—”
He hit your g-spot once he was inside and curling his fingers upwards.
“Because—”
And then he scissored his fingers open to stretch you wide enough for his waiting cock.
“Because I didn’t want to fuck you!”
He hesitated. “What?”
That wasn’t what you meant… It sounded wrong when you said it like that, but he was being a nuisance with his fingers, and it was the only way you could think to spew out your thoughts quickly before another pathetic moan could escape you.
“I mean… You’ve been so busy… Rehearsing, recording, working out, having meetings… I didn’t want to distract you…”
Slowly, his fingers thrusted into you again, but it was so slow that all it did was remind you that he was inside you rather than him trying to push you towards an orgasm.
“I didn’t think we’d have any time, Xiao Yang…”
He moaned at the nickname, his eyes rolling while his eyelids shut. “You’re so silly sometimes,” he whispered, curling his fingers again to make you arch your back and moan out his nickname for him. “I always have time for you.” He leaned in close to kiss your cheek. “Why do you think I keep dying my hair pink?”
That did it for the both of you— Within an instant, you were reaching out for his cock to stroke it while he stepped closer to the counter and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. He took one last moment to appreciate that warmth of your tight walls wrapped around his fingers, then he pulled them out, only to replace them with the tip of his cock both of you were working together to line up at your entrance.
“You just wanted me that badly, hmm? Had to keep yourself away?” He grinned smugly.
With a roll of your eyes, you wrapped your legs around his waist and put one of your hands on the small of his back while the other remained in his hair. Yangyang let you take the lead by having you contract your legs and push on his back so that he slowly started pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch until he was completely inside, his length twitching with excitement.
“Go on, then, pretty boy, show me how much you missed me,” you told him.
“Ah, sheise,” he moaned in response, rushing to fuck you as a rough pace that made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around him. You didn’t want him going anywhere though. It’d been so long, both of you were so pent up, there was no reality in which you would ever let the two of you go on without fucking each other for so long in the future.
Yangyang’s thighs slapped against the cupboards underneath the counter you sat on every time he thrusted all the way inside of you. In and out. Tip to base. The sound of the two of you panting and moaning echoed throughout the apartment, the constant pace of his thrusts surely letting the neighbors know what you were up to. What if you guys took too long… What if Kun and Hendery came by to see what was wrong, why Yangyang missed their scheduled gym time for the first time in years— Honestly, you wouldn’t have cared, you would’ve kept going even with his friends watching, but you wondered if Yangyang would’ve stopped due to his embarrassment of being caught with his pants down and ball deep in his girlfriend.
“Harder, Xiao Yang,” you pleaded with him.
He pressed one hand against the cupboard over your head to support himself while fucking you even faster and leaning in to kiss you as a distraction from the way he was getting noticeably closer to his orgasm even though it hadn’t been that long. At least he was cute after denying him for so long… His desperation left him incapable of speaking or keeping his eyes open, and there was no way for him to fight against the tight hold your legs had around his waist.
“Fuck— Mein hase—“ He toppled a bit. “Need you to cum first…” He trailed his hand from your waist to your clit to rub fast circles around the sensitive bud, hoping to race you towards your orgasm faster than his own was approaching. “So fucking pretty when you take my cock, hase.”
You tugged on his hair, and Yangyang faltered slightly with a blissful moan. “So fucking pretty when you fuck me, Xiao Yang.” You won that battle. He immediately submitted to your Dominance with just a rough pull on his pink hair. “Make me cum, baby. Just like that!” Your hips bucked against his, the counter creaking under you.
The faster his fingers worked, the slower his hips went, but that was okay because you were finally teetering on the edge, your orgasm creeping up on you sooner than you thought possible… Maybe it really was a bad idea to stay away from him for so long. Not only was he desperate for you, but you were obviously just as eager to feel him in you again, his thin but long cock pistoning inside of you while his fingers expertly played with your clit the way you taught him. He really was the best listener. Your best boy.
“Yangyang!” you moaned.
Suddenly, you were cumming before you could warn him. Your walls tightened violently around him, causing him to hiss while flicking your clit even faster to make sure you properly rode out your high.
“I’m cumming— Sheise—“ He jerked his hips back like he was trying to pull out of you and instead elect to cum on your stomach, but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was the hold your legs had on him tightening, forcing him to stay buried inside of you. “Wait, wait, baby, I’m cumming—“ He struggled again. You held true.
“Cum inside of me, pretty boy.”
His legs shook under him as Yangyang couldn’t fight off his orgasm any longer. With a defeated moan, he came inside of you, panting in your ear, a cry of disbelief overtaking him. The two of you hardly ever fucked without a condom, so the idea of taking birth control consistently was… Well, not really important to either of you. With your hips tilted up, and him being held inside of you with nowhere to go, the thought of getting you pregnant scared him slightly, but even worse was that it made his orgasm hit him even harder. He could be the one to knock you up, to claim you. Everyone’d know you were his. His damn friends who took up so much of his time, preventing him from getting home to you, they would know you were his.
“I’m cumming again—“
Now you were the surprised one. Never before had Yangyang cum twice in a single round of fucking… And he didn’t even take time to fuck you again, building up to the orgasm. No, it just hit him like a ton of bricks. He remained in you, riding out his second strong orgasm that took his breath away, his hand wrapping around the cupboard handle tightly. When he tried to pull out of you again, you didn’t let up as either of you expected— No, you stared at his red cheeks, his heavy lidded eyes, and his jaw hanging agape, admiring the way he looked so fucked-out all because of you.
“Please,” he begged quietly.
You shook your head. “Gotta make sure it sticks.”
He moaned again, biting his lip and looking down at where your bodies met, the creaminess of his two loads already seeping out around his cock, standing his pelvis and the inside of your thighs.
“You’re so pretty when you can’t think straight, baby…” You smiled at him, brushing his sweaty pink hair out of his face. He blushed in response. “You’ll have to call in sick… I don’t think you’ll be able to leave bed tonight or tomorrow.” He gulped at the thought. “Pretty boy.”
Yangyang leaned back in to kiss you one more time. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And then there was a knock at the door. “Liu Yangyang! Where the fuck are you?!” Shit, Kun sounded pissed…
Yangyang tried to pull out of you again, as if he hadn’t learned his lesson yet, you weren’t letting him go, not even for his friends. He accepted his fate willingly. With a quiet sigh, he said that he’d text them that he was sick… and that he couldn’t make it to work the following day… You smiled at him, content with that conclusion, patting his pink hair to show your appreciation.
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No Prince Charming
(Batfam x Mom!Reader)
Anonymous asked:
Hello, I really like your work.
I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.
Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.
Sorry if it's too much.
And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator
❤
Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.
It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed.
Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders.
A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office.
“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’
Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one.
But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences.
“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her.
As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him.
Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.
Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too. Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact.
Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look.
She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is.
“I’m sorry Richard.”
“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up.
In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on.
Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother.
“Bruce please.”
“I am busy.”
“I know but Bruce, this is my–”
“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends.
When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.”
Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own.
She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne.
“Honey, are you happy?”
“Of course Mama.”
“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.”
Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3.
She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign.
For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door.
The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion.
“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.”
“Is that so?”
“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne.
“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.”
“And the kids?”
“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her.
It's good to see some of that coming back.
Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?”
“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull.
When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him.
“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.”
“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him.
Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in.
“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.”
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood.
He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid.
Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her.
He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around.
Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too.
“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.”
Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place.
Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone.
He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”
“Holy shit.”
“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together.
Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes.
“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes.
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room.
Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.”
Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings.
Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans.
Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight.
“Fucking hell.”
++++
Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool.
She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.
Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign.
It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids.
“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other.
“Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?”
“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something.
“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t.
He knows this. She knows this.
And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others.
It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine.
He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.
“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears.
“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine.
Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool.
“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle.
“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen.
Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second.
A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof.
So, of course they have had sex.
Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex.
Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon.
Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it.
It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return.
Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human.
Batman was never Prince Charming.
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Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.
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