Warnings:Language.Smut. Just a lil finger bangin, ya know?
Monday, April 18th
I’ve met someone. Arrogant. Flippant. Self-interested. They too, have plans for Gotham. An unshakeable need to play a hand at Gotham’s Rebirth. Her methods are radical, riot inciting, dangerous.
The city’s big. Enough for her to mold parts of it to her liking where my influence hasn’t yet touched. Too rough. Too sharp. My reach can’t remedy the damage. Should she continue, Gotham herself can only hope to be disfigured.
Something pulls me to her.
There you are. Sultry and intense. A bright vision for eyes accustomed to the darkness.
Bruce leans forward and hears himself emit a throaty grunt. It’s just the bruised ribcage he tells himself, knowing it’s a lie.
You’re passionate, as you always are, but being on camera ignites a chromosome in you that makes you magnetic. Anyone watching will be pulled by your words. Like mind control, your message will become theirs. You’re a north star in an empty night sky. You’re the way home. It’s dangerous, the type of power you carelessly wield.
“Now’s the time to reclaim what never belonged to them. Take back the city and let freedom ring!”
The climax to your speech has the crowd cheering with intense
A low vibration rumbles within Bruce like an old bell. “Incredibly dangerous,” he speaks aloud. Or in his head. He can’t tell which. He can only decipher that he needs to see you.
Not deep in the depths of the bat cave on a screen that flattens your visage.
He needs you in the flesh.
You’re washing off the day. Extra hot showers are good for that. The anxiety of being on TV, running back every word you stumbled over or important points you missed, isn’t something you want to keep with you.
So you let your mind drift. It’s a meditation technique your mother taught you. A very basic one, but one nonetheless. All thoughts are welcome. Your mind is free to bring up any memory it wished, so long as it’s business related. No self judgment or hatred of the thought is allowed — a crucial component of the exercise. As your mother had told you, “Allow your mind to freely roam for 30 minutes, and for the entire day you will know where your heart is.”
Suddenly, you aren’t thinking of better plans for Gotham. You’re thinking of hot cocoa and marshmallows during a winter storm. Extra, extra marshmallows. Extra cocoa too. But could you afford the carbs? Wait. Is that you judging yourself? This zone is judgment free. So you release the thought back into the void from which it emerged.
For a moment you’re just enjoying the feeling of being in the shower. But the mind takes over and strangely thinks of weightlifting competitions. Men and their bulging veins.
The thought doesn’t last long.
He arrives.
Of course he does.
The Batman.
It starts as the image of Gotham alight with the signal. We need you Batman. I need you.
The thought travels. What must it be like beneath all that heavy armor. Bulging veins? What kind of man was hidden behind the cowl?
Does he fuck as good as he fights?
You definitely judge yourself for that thought. You rather think about Gotham again than a man or a bat.
Finished with your shower, you dry off and throw on an oversized tee. In your head you’re mapping out your speech tomorrow: Something something like a lost soul, Gotham must find the light. Something something men with dark hearts have ruined this city. We have to fight back or find ourselves in hell.
You don’t realize the light in your bedroom is off until you’re already in it. That’s not how you left it. And before you can move to the lamp… you see him shrouded in the shadows. The silhouette of his thick frame. It frightens you, but not in a way that makes you run for cover.
“Your speech today —”
You give him no chance to finish. “What gives you the right to break and enter into my apartment? That’s the problem with men. Especially men like you. You think you own Gotham and everything in it.”
“Your speech today caused a 5% increase in crime.”
He approaches and hands a handheld device to you. The screen of which is cracked, but you can still make out the ticker.
“Looting has increased significantly in the East End—”
“Correlation doesn’t imply causation.”
“Swipe right.”
As you do so a picture pops up. A vandalized convenient store. A man wearing a mask of the president holds a banner with a man wearing a mask of the Vice President. Let freedom ring scrawled in blood, nearly illegible. A bludgeoned store clerk sits
Batman, in his typical monotone whisper, asks, “is this your idea of Freedom?”
You push the handheld into his chest. “A version of it.”
“Your words have power,” he says, “the things you say could be used for good.”
A thought enters your mind and you don’t pass judgement on it. Here is The Batman. In your bedroom, in the dark. It’s enough to make you bite down on your bottom lip. “That’s what you came all this way to tell me? That I have a naughty mouth?”
He’s silent. As still as the night that coats your apartment. You take the reigns, hoping his lack of a protest is a sign of approval. Lips pressing against his, you groan in approval when he kisses you back. It’s soft, fragile, nothing like the brutal way he’s bludgeoned petty criminals. Makes you think either he doesn’t do this often, or he doesn’t want to hurt you.
His device drops from his hand. It startles you, makes you want to jump from your skin, but his fingers against your waist keep your form flush against him. The kiss breaks and there’s just breathing. Heavy breaths regaining composure.
“Don’t,” he warns as your hand runs along the smooth plating of his cowl. You make no fuss about it, no forcing things. You have every intention to drop the lust, but he’s forcing you back first onto your bed. You flowing with the ebbs of the mattress and sink into the weight Batman forces against you. “Just lie still.”
You do as you’re told. Cold fingers, hard and metal, untie your towel. You’d forgotten that was all you had clothing you. And barely recognize that the hand reaching between your legs is gloved until -
“Shit.”
His fingers slide inside you. You’re not sure how many. You just feel full. To the brink of it burning. It’s just the right amount of stretch.
“You’re wet,” he murmurs, all soft in the darkness. It makes you moan harder when he pushes back inside you. A little rougher and you roll against his finger’s thrusts. “So wet.”
“Does it feel good?” he asks, fingers swirling around your clit. You wrangle out an answer between pants. Yes. It feels so fucking good. With your head thrown back and legs wrapping around either side of his waist.
You come, in the black void of space and he’s kisses you through it. Something he wants to taste for himself.
And then he leaves. Picks up his device and leaves. No trace of him ever being there.
A/N: Hey guys!!! So It’s 2:00am…and I only proofread this once. I’m getting pretty lazy with proofreading, so I’m sorry if it’s loaded with mistakes. I’ll check back tomorrow. Anyway, here’s the sex pollen fic!!! I really hope it doesn’t totally suck. It’s based on “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. I would’ve titled it “Closer” but someone else already has a Bruce fic under that name so it didn’t feel right :) Anyway, enjoy!
Summary: After the Riddler strikes again, he leaves some unusual clues behind for you and Bruce…including a strange green dust.
Warnings:SMUT! It’s completely consensual (and there is mutual pining), but bc this is a SEX POLLEN fic, imma give a dub!con warning. 18+, cursing, violence, grammar mistakes, and once again, some canon divergence with a Nightwing!reader/life long friend!reader but it’s not really important to the plot at all so you won’t even notice.
Word Count: 4,407
You swallow firmly as your boots clunk against the ground. The music blaring from the DJ booth below echoes off the walls of the club, the sound ricocheting through your eardrums and back out again. The metal floors of the balcony vibrate underneath you, threatening to fall onto the packed crowd on the dance floor.
Warnings: NSFW 18+ smutty, sexual tension, lots of sex, smidge of spanking, dirty talk, swear words
Summary: Bruce has been so busy with his work lately he’s had no time for you, so you decide to tease him and face the best kind of consequence
Type: One shot
Bruce was eager to get you home after the stunt you pulled in the restaurant. Trying to act all innocent and cute, but he saw right through you. He knew exactly what you were up to.
He was so busy with his work he wasn’t paying attention to you at all. Having enough you took matters into your own hands. Deciding that tonight you would tease him beyond belief, so you could get what you want.
“Strip.” He commanded slamming the door behind him as he ripped his jacket off.
Not wasting another moment your dress and heels were flung across the room. Your eyes trained on him the whole time waiting for his next command.
“Panties.” He pointed quickly between you legs telling you to take those off.
Tugging them down your legs slowly as you stayed bent over wiggling your hips. Smirking to yourself when you saw him grind his teeth together in frustration.
“Take your bra off now.” He was ready to have you bent over his lap at this moment, but right now he just wanted to tear into you.
Watching as you unclipped your bra tossing it with the rest of the clothes. His eyes looking your body up and down taking in his prize. Trying not to clench your thighs together when the pressure between your legs was becoming too much.
“Bend over the couch.” Nodding toward the letter furniture you skipped towards the couch bending over the armrest.
Arching your back a little more as you kept your eyes trained in front of you. Hearing his footsteps echoing behind you as you could now sense he was standing directly behind you.
Growling deeply when he saw just how exactly wet you were. Feeling like it was dripping down your legs at this point. You needed him so badly you felt like you could cry.
Hearing the familiar clank of him undoing his belt. Tugging his pants down and unbuttoning his shirt as he eyes remained on you the whole time. Standing in his boxers as he rubbed himself through the material.
The only sounds that could be heard was your heavy breathing and his groaning. The room was becoming thicker and hotter with need. Feeling yourself start to break out into a sweat already.
Reaching a hand under you hoping Bruce wouldn’t notice, and to start rubbing slow and deep circles around your clit gasping at how sensitive you were. Just wanting to feel something since he was just standing there not doing anything.
Bruce caught on to what you were doing, and he sneered at your actions. A hand coming down on your cheek making you jump removing your hand. Seconds later feeling the sting from his hand making you hiss.
“Stand up.” Standing up straight you watched as he moved to the front of the couch sitting down.
Pulling his boxers to his ankles as you watched in awe his cock spring up against his stomach. Drooling at the sight of it. Noticing how red and veiny he was meaning he was just as turned on as you.
A hand reaching down to pump his cock as he looked between your legs. Standing there as you bit your lip so hard you might draw blood. Patiently waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
“Come here love.” He waved you to him to which you walked over and stood in front of him moving one leg to the side of his waist, and then moving the other leg.
His hands immediately gripped onto your hips as he sat you down directly on him. Knowing that your arousal was just soaking his cock to prepare himself. Gently rocking your hips back and forth making him growl.
Stopping your movements as he lifted you up so that you were just now hovering over him. Looking down to see his cock twitching with a little pre cum leaking from his tip.
“Well go on darling stick me in.” Hearing those words was like music to your ears.
Grabbing his cock tightly making him hiss as you maneuvered him so he was directly under your pussy. Slowly sitting down as you felt his tip piercing through your folds. Gasping as was fully pushed inside of you now.
Feeling his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to control his hips. He wanted to start pounding into you hard, but he also wanted to wait for you to adjust.
“Fuck just like that love.” Bruce mumbled against the skin of your neck. “Ride my cock.”
Moving your hips up and down when you felt him fully stretched inside of you. Hands gripping the back of the couch as you rode him while looking into his eyes. Sex with Bruce was always so intimate and passionate.
Bruce knew you wanted more so he pushed up on his feet so he could meet your thrusts. Crying out when you two found the perfect rhythm. His cock filling you to the brim.
“Such a good girl takin my cock so well.” He continued with words of encouragement. He was always one for dirty talk even if you weren’t the most vocal.
“Oh god.” You moaned as you leaned your head back giving him complete access to your neck. “Love your cock.”
“Greedy little woman.” He growled as his lips attached to your exposed nipples. “Couldn’t stop to wait for me.”
“Desperate to feel me inside that tight cunt of yours.” Biting on the nubs making your hand reach up to grab his hair and tug. “Always want me to fuck you like an animal.”
“Want everyone to hear what a little whore you are.” His words only turned you on even more. “Wanna hear you scream my name.”
“Bruce.” You cried out as you roughly slammed down onto his cock. Your legs becoming very sore, but you still kept going.
“Fucking say it again.” His tone very dark and seductive. “Say my name so everyone knows whose fucking you.”
“Bruce oh god Bruce.” Screaming out as you felt your pussy squeezing him hard making him groan, and grip your hips so hard bruises would form. You really didn’t care if anyone did hear you too focused on Bruce at the moment.
Your legs covered in sweat as they stuck to Bruce’s thighs every time you moved up. Feeling his hands moving up and down your body along with the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk for weeks.” Groaning against your chest as he looked down to where you two were connected. “Soaking my cock ready for me.”
“Shit right there Bruce.” You squealed as his cock hit your sweet spot. “God feels so good.”
“You like that sweetheart?” His tone teasing as he looked up to your euphoric face. “My cock feel good inside of your cunt darling?”
“Oh god yes Bruce please don’t stop.” Closing your eyes as you felt yourself losing control.
“Oh baby I won’t stop until your begging me to stop.” He chuckled as the scruff of his newly shaved skin brushing against your neck.
His hands quickly spreading your legs further apart so he could get deeper inside of you. Feeling every inch of him your moans of pleasure echoing all across the room. His hands all over your body intensifying your senses.
“Nobody else can fuck you like I can.” A sharp slap was heard and your ass cheek was on fire. “This delicious pussy is mine.”
“All yours Bruce.” Hearing that made his hands come down on your ass again and again making you squeal. “Fuck it’s all yours.
"God look at you bouncing on my cock begging for it.” He teased as you moved a hand down to rub your clit. His hand smacked it away. “Oh no love you can’t touch yourself.”
“Should punish you for doing that.” Next thing you felt his hand moving towards your pussy lightly rubbing your clit. “Dirty little whore can’t help herself.”
“Bruce l please it feels so good.” You whined making him smirk as he rubbed your clit faster. “Shit shit shit gonna cum.”
“Gonna cum like a good girl.” He spoke as he sharply thrusted inside of you your ass cheeks smacking against his skin. “Gonna cum all over my cock.”
“Yes I’m so fucking close.” You moaned as you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach. You were on the brink of your orgasm.
“Can feel you squeezin my cock sweetheart.” Groaning as his thrusts were slowing down. “Feels so fucking good.”
“I’m gonna cum Bruce.” You warned as you felt your insides clenching and your entire body shaking.
“Soak my cock with your pussy baby.” He commanded you with a deep moan making you scream as your release hit you in the face making your legs tremble.
“Oh fuck god such a good girl.” Bruce encouraged as his cock twitched inside of you pumping the last drop. “Fuck I love your pussy.”
Getting up his cock slipping from inside you making you hiss. Rolling over onto your butt next to him as both of you tried to catch your breath. Watching as his chest heaved up and down. Feeling his warm seed dripping out of you.
“Jesus I know now how to get you all riled up.” He panted after a few minutes of silence making you giggle. “Remind me to ignore you again.”
Playfully smacking his chest as you leaned forward to plant your lips on his. Having a feeling that round two would be happening very soon.
Warnings: NSFW 18+ smutty, this is just straight up porn with no real plot
Summary: Coming up with the perfect idea for Bruce to give you rough sex by making him really jealous, and you are quite successful
Type: One shot
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
Flashbacks from the night ending when he brought you back to reality. Bent over the bed with your dress around your hips, and your ass sticking out. Bruce standing behind you feeling the authority radiating off his body.
Having this perfect idea of trying to get Bruce jealous, and hoping it would end the night in rough, absolutely filthy sex. Boy did your plan rustle his feathers when he basically dragged you out of the gala.
You felt Bruce’s hand come down on your bare ass cheek feeling the sting on your skin. Making you gasp and grip onto the covers on the bed. He was directly behind you, and you could feel him.
“You’re gonna take this like a good girl you understand?” His words came out more like a command than a request. You just nodded your head.
Not even waiting another second his hand came back down on your ass again. This time the sting wasn’t as bad, but you could still feel the pain. You felt your panties getting wet every time his hand made contact with your skin.
“Such a beautiful ass.” He groaned as his hands rubbed your sore cheeks soothingly. “All mine to mark and use.”
Your senses were overwhelmed right now you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Laying on your stomach as you tried to control your erratic breathing. Leaning forward he gently kissed your cheeks making you hiss.
“Are you ready for me?” His question confused you at first then you realized he was asking you if he could have sex with you.
You weren’t ready for something like this yet, but you were so horny and needy for him you couldn’t resist. Wiggling your hips like an animal in heat teasing him more than what you thought.
“Yes Bruce please take me.” As soon as those words left your mouth he was quick to unbuckle his pants.
Hearing the clanking of his belt as he undid them. Then pulling them down to kick the material to the side. His erect cock sprang up against his stomach making you drool all over yourself.
His hands grabbing each side of your panties as he slowly pulled them down your legs lifting each leg so he could toss the soaked material in his pile of clothes. The cold breeze hitting your bare pussy making your body tremble.
“God you look phenomenal like this.” He groaned as you felt his eyes burning into your backside.
Licking his lips like a wild animal at your body laid out for him like this. Like you were a sacrifice all sprawled out for his taking, and he couldn’t wait to take you.
Suddenly feel self conscious that he was staring at you. All kinds of negative thoughts running through your mind, hoping that he really did like what he saw. Wondering if you were still enough for him, and up to his standards.
“So fucking beautiful. I could stare at you all day.” He spoke almost as if he could tell what you were thinking.
Moving your legs a little bit wider as you felt him moving right up against you. Pumping his cock a few times before he rubbed the head up and down your folds. Gasping at the sensation it was bringing your body.
“Tell me if it becomes too much baby.” He whispered as you felt him slowly pushing his cock inside of you.
Hands gripped on your hips so he could control himself. Even though he was wanting to give it to you roughly he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough.
Your mouth hanging wide open with no sound coming out as you felt his huge girth stretching out your walls. Never being able to be used to his size.
Hearing his voice strain as he remained still feeling your pussy adjust to his size. As much as he wanted to ravish you he didn’t want to hurt you especially not the first time.
“This pussy is all mine baby.” Growling as he started to slowly pump his cock in and out of you. “Such a tight little wet pussy you have.”
Feeling every inch of him as he moved inside of you. Feeling all of his veins as they rubbed the walls inside of you. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, and he for sure knew how to use it.
“All the things I’m gonna do to you.” His words making a shiver run down your spine. “Fuck you’re mine to play with.”
“Bruce please move faster.” You whined as your hands gripped the covers pushing your body back against him.
You wanted to feel more and all of him. Right now all you could care about was him making you feel good.
Bruce pushed your cheeks apart as he started to pound into your body. Going deeper and deeper inside of you with each thrust. Burying your head into the covers as you bit down on the material. This was much better than what you would have ever imagined.
He was surprising you every minute he was pounding into you. Never thinking a quiet man like him would be talking to you this way, or being able to take you like this.
“I want to hear you scream my name.” He spoke as he sharply snapped his hips into yours making you scream.
You weren’t going to last long, and judging by his sounds and movement you didn’t think he would either. This was something both of you had been waiting for, and right now it was everything and more that you expected.
“God you feel so good baby.” He stated more to himself than to you. His fingers squeezing your hips. “Could stay in your pussy all day.”
His cock nudging your sweet spot making your legs tremble. Your body moving back against him in rhythm. Hearing your ass cheeks clapping every time they met his pelvis. The sounds that filled the room had your cheeks burning, but hearing his sounds was even hotter.
Bruce looking down to where you two were connected. Watching with glazed eyes as his cock would disappear inside of you. Mesmerized as his cock glistened with your juices, and wondering how you were able to take him so well.
“Bruce.” You moaned as you felt your stomach tightening, and your body starting to shake.
“That’s it love come around my cock.” Leaning forward so his lips attached themselves to your spine, and you felt his stomach on your back.
The scruff of his newly shaved beard lightly scraping against your bare skin that was visible making goosebumps appear on your skin. Most people would hate that feeling, but right now it felt good.
Your erect nipples brushing against your dress making you whimper. Your senses were completely heightened, and you felt like you were on cloud nine right now. It was just the two of you in this world, and you were perfectly happy with that.
Placing his arms on either side of you so he had your body trapped underneath his. Sweat forming on your back from the heat of his body. The sounds of your soaked pussy echoing around the room making your eyes roll in the back of your head.
“Oh god Bruce right there.” You cried out as you began rocking your hips back to meet his movements.
“Squeeze that sweet pussy for me.” He groaned into your ear as you felt his movements slowing down meaning he was close. “Almost there baby just feel it.”
Pushing your face into the mattress as you felt your orgasm approaching. Unable to hold it any longer as your legs were shaking, and your body was trembling. A few more pumps as your release smacked you in the face. Coating Bruce’s cock with your juices.
Bruce wasn’t too long after you feeling his warm seed fill your body. Laying there feeling like a cooked noodle. Not bothering to even move knowing you would fall or hurt yourself.
Feeling his cock twitch inside of you. He almost didn’t want to move himself loving the feeling of being inside of you. He felt so snug and warm, and you kept sucking him in.
“Are you okay?” He asked you making you weakly smile.
“Yes Bruce I’m okay.” Leaning forward he placed a kiss in the middle of your spine. “I’m more than okay.”
Everything went from pure filth and sex to now sweet and admiration. It was everything that you wanted and more. To have someone who cared about you was a wonderful feeling, and you didn’t want to let that go.
Feeling yourself becoming tired you felt your eyes starting to close. Bruce reluctantly pulled himself out of you with a hiss. Going into the bathroom to grab a wash cloth to clean you and then him. Tossing the damp cloth with the clothes he turned your body around.
Picking up your limp body he placed you under the covers, and made sure you were comfy. Smiling to himself at how sweet and cute you looked just after being railed by him.
Getting on the other side of the bed he pulled your body towards him. Curling your body right up against him so he could place his hand around your waist, and so you could place your hand on his chest. His body so warm already you didn’t even need the blankets.
Giving your forehead multiple kisses like he didn’t want to stop. You loved seeing this side of him, and you hoped you would get to see more of this. It wasn’t everyday you got a tough guy like him to show you this much affection.
“Good night beautiful.” Was the last thing you heard before you felt darkness consume your body.
Warnings: NSFW 18+ smut, discussion of sex, sexual tension, there is passionate sex, swear words, dirty talk, some ass action, nipple sucking
Summary: Bruce Wayne has always been full of surprises and one thing that surprised you is he just can’t seem to get enough of you
Type: One shot
Sorry if this one sucked guys!! I hope you do like it though please comment what you think and give your girl some feedback! If you wish to be added to a tag list let me know so I can add you!! Thanks everyone so much! Heart! Reblog! Enjoy! XOXO
“Mr. Wayne you’ve got Steven asking for you?” Knocking lightly on his door as you popped your head in.
“Tell him I’m busy.” He grumbled as he sat at the table looking at paperwork. Rolling your eyes at his stubbornness to talk to the man.
“You said that last time.” You stated making him look up at you with a stoic look.
“Fine.” Standing up as he walked by huffing and pouting like a child. Turning to you before he walked out of the room. “Thank you.”
Having been working as Bruce Wayne’s secretary for a couple years now. Never thinking someone as wealthy as him would want you. Hiring you on when he saw you working for a different company, and he could clearly tell that you weren’t happy there.
Offering you a job to which you took, and he was paying you three times as much. At first he would barely speak a word to you, but then eventually he opened up and was becoming more friendly towards you.
Over the last couple of months you found yourself slowly starting to fall for him. Always glancing his way whenever he wasn’t looking or trying to make more conversation.
He of course had no idea, but you were hoping one day he would catch on and return those feelings for you. To which he did.
Once he learned of how much you cared and adored the man, he finally admitted he felt the same. Kissing you with every ounce of affection he had in him.
Alfred found out about the two of you, and couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Patiently waiting for one of you to confess what you were feeling. Smiling to himself every time he saw the two of you together.
One thing that surprised you about him was how sexual of a man he is. Sneaking behind you to wrap his arms around you, only then to bend you over whatever furniture was closest to you.
If you were walking down the hall he would snag you in a room, and have his way with you. Smiling as he would look down at you giggling at his playfulness.
Kissing your neck as a hint that he was desperate for you. If he caught you naked at any time it was game over. You didn’t even really bother wearing much clothes around him cause he would just rip it off.
He always had to have his hands on you like he couldn’t get enough of you. Like he was afraid you would float away from him. His touch always so soft and gentle. He was never rough or aggressive with you. Always wanting to make sure you were comfortable and feeling nothing but pleasure.
Walking down the hall to go back to your desk you felt hands wrap around your waist. Squealing as they tugged you back against a warm body. Smiling when you knew exactly who it was.
“I’ve gotta have you love.” Bruce growled in your ear making goosebumps appear on your neck.
Feeling that fire igniting in your lower stomach, as your panties were now becoming soaked. It was crazy how quickly this man could turn you on.
“Then take me.” Looking deep into his eyes watching as his turned darker.
Not wasting another second he pulled you into a room slamming the door shut. Pushing you up against the wall his hands on either side of your head. His lips attaching to the skin of your neck sucking on the flesh.
Moaning into the air as you felt your thighs clenching together trying to ease the pressure between your legs. Whining so he could hear how much you were craving him.
Smirking against your neck he pulled away looking at your trembling body. Hands going to work on tugging your skirt off tossing them somewhere in the room. Unbuttoning your silk blouse exposing your pushed up breasts.
“You are absolutely exquisite.” His eyes devouring your undergarment covered body.
Pulling your thinly soaked panties down your leg kicking them to the side. A cold breeze hitting between your legs making a shiver run up your spine.
“Bruce take me please.” Wrapping your arms around his neck pushing your body against him.
Growling he picked you up hands under your ass cheeks. Wrapping both your legs around him as you watched him use one of his hands to unzip his pants. Breathing heavily as you looked down to see his fully erect cock out.
Rubbing his tip up and down your folds to gather your juices before pushing himself inside of you. Gasping as you felt him stretching you out. Hearing Bruce groan as he waited for you to adjust to him.
Mouth hanging open as you felt your pussy opening up to him. It was like you felt every vein on his cock. Biting your bottom lip between your teeth as he slowly started to thrust up into you.
“I’ve got you darling.” Whispering encouragingly in your ear as he lifted your hips up and down on his cock.
Tightening your arms around him as he started to pick up his thrusts. The skin under your thigh smacking against his upper thigh. Gasping and moaning in his ear as you felt your pussy squeezing him.
Feeling his cock reaching all the way up into your stomach. It was like he was made for you, and he fit just like a glove. Loving the feeling he gave you whenever he was inside of you.
“Oh god Bruce.” Crying out as he was filling you to the brim.
“Fuck.” He groaned as he felt you clenching around him. He was holding himself back like he didn’t want to release the beast.
Your nails scratching up and down his back. If he wasn’t wearing a shirt surely you would have drawn blood. His mouth hovering over your shoulder and ear hearing him pant. He kept whispering dirty things in your ear that had your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
His cock hitting an all new angle that had your toes curling. Bruce somehow holding you up with no problem. Using the wall to help make sure you were more comfortable and stable.
“So good love.” He grumbled as you felt his hands gripping your ass cheeks. “Feel so good.”
Quickly looking down as you watched his cock disappearing inside of you. Wondering how you were able to take all of him. Your juices coating his cock making it easier for him to slide inside of you. The sounds your pussy was making had your cheeks heating up.
Sharply thrusting his hips making you scream out as he hit your sweet spot. Feeling your cheeks heating up as your body was tightening up getting closer to orgasm. It never usually took look for you to find sweet release with him.
His eyes looking down to your chest, and your breasts that were straining against your bra. Unclasping them somehow exposing them to his hungry eyes. His mouth attaching to one of your breasts. Sucking on the nipple hard making you gasp.
Telling he wasn’t going to last much longer either. His thrusts were starting to slow down, and you could see the veins in his neck popping out. Both of you staring into each other’s eyes.
“Let go darling.” Bruce strained as he could tell you were about to explode.
“So close right there.” Whining as your eyes closed and constricting your legs tightly around his waist. Your body felt like it was morphing into his.
Your orgasm hitting you hard in the face. Entire body shaking and trembling as you felt your insides squeezing around Bruce making him groan. An entire rush of exhaustion running through your body.
“Shit shit.” Growling quietly into your ear as you felt his concern twitching inside of you.
Letting your body relax as you felt him thrust a couple more times. Leaning his face into your neck mouth hanging open. Breathing heavily against his shoulder as he filled you with him warm load.
Both of you waiting to calm down before he set you back down on your feet. Wobbling a little making him hold onto you so you didn’t collapse to the ground. Him laughing when he saw how weak your legs were.
“You better clean up in there.” Hearing Alfred speak as he walked by the room making you and Bruce look at each other before bursting into laughter. 
Synopsis : Two years ago, you were “saved” by the vigilante they know called “The Batman” from joining up with a gang. At the time, you saw this as the only escape from the tough life you lived down in Gotham’s slums. But he beat up those who wanted to recruit you and a bunch of other lost kids, and changed your perception of life. You started to train to become a cop, wanting to help better the city. Wanting to tackle the corruption right at its core. Ah, to be a youngster full of dreams
TW : mention of cheating, and there’s a NSFW scene. 18+, minors do not interact. Some The Batman spoilers. Strong language. Violence.
For real, if you are underaged, or uncomfortable with this kind of content this story isn’t for you . I have many SFW work available for you to read over on my masterlists blog :@ella-ravenwood-archives. Please. This is smut with feelings and an actual story, but still it iz wat it iz. Be aware of that (I will also mark it once it’s coming in the story, to be fully safe).
“Crimes are always the highest in poor neighborhoods”, said an article you once read, when you were in high school, in your “current event” class. It made you chuckle, as you looked around you and saw a decrepit “school” full of teachers afraid of their students, and students terrified of their teachers.
You know what was even scarier ? The fact that so many of you just decided that : “that’s just how it is”, and settled to have a life of misery, fighting every day for survival down in Gotham’s slums.
No change had happened in such a long time, every single person living under the line of poverty just decided to live with the fact it was never goingtochange. And that’s an awful thing to think about. At the same time, if you expect nothing from life, you can only be pleasantly surprised, right ?
Yeah. No. Because even when you expect nothing, a place like Gotham City always had “surprises” that you definitely could do without. Like the local mafia taking hold of the neighborhood’s electricity, and you had to pay them to keep the heater on. And in Gotham in winters ? Saying it was cold was an euphemism. It was either finding the money, or freezing to death in your room.
Finding money.
Was this life ? A perpetual fight to keep your head above the water, to be able to eat at least a meal a day ? What a nightmare.
Naturally, as you grew up, you slowly drifted more and more towards a world you never thought would be yours. A world in which there was “easy money”.
Crime.
It felt like it was the only exit to misery, in certain part of Gotham. Joining up a gang, it was indeed easy money and protection, you know ? Not very enviable, yet it really felt for many young people down in the worst places of the city like it was their only escape.
A chance to become someone, and to actually live, even if it meant getting your hands dirty.
It was either that, or turning into shells of people. Like their parents. Like your parents. Working their asses off every day, not earning enough money, living in unsanitary conditions with a rent too high for those shitty apartments, and literally risking your life every day by simply going outside.
There were areas in Gotham that were “no go zones” for anyone who could avoid them. The Bowery, The Narrows…Dirty, slender places with flickering lights at night, and too many dark alleyways you best not venture in.
Your very own Skid Row. The West coast definitely didn’t have to envy you on that point…Hey, at least you had a roof over your head, you know ? What a grim silver lining. Your room was leaking when it rained anyway…
What were your options, really ? You didn’t want to survive, you wanted to live. What was the point of merely going through days with no hope, nor sun ?
That’s when you saw him for the first time. At the deepest of your despair for a better future. And he “saved” you from making the worst mistake of your life.
************
You were about to reach a point of no-return. To join up with a notorious small local gang, affiliated with the Maroni Family. You hadn’t been able to pay for college, and were working three shitty job to keep you afloat.
What were your options, really ?
You saw what this city did to your parents. And to so many people around you.
You were not about to end up like them. Grinded to the core, turned into a “zombie”, barely living really.
You suddenly finally understood that article you read all those years ago. Of course crime would be more proficient in poor neighborhood. People had nothing to lose, and sometimes joining up with what most viewed as bad people were their only way to have a “family”, a community, a support they wouldn’t have otherwise…This was why gangs were so appealing to disadvantage kids. Such as yourself.
It was a double edged sword, of course. Sure, joining a gang seemed appealing in many ways, but you knew you’d have to leave part of your humanity at the door. And at this point, you were ok with this. Because living in Gotham City’s slums already made you feel barely human anyway.
You were now in an alley, and everyone could guess what was about to happen. An initiation. New comers in a gang that plagued the city, yet the only escape for many of them.
And here you were. And here He was, too.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The hell was this noice ? Where did it came from ?
The dark. This dark that always instilled fear into your heart, because you never knew what was in it.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Boots on the floor ? Yes. And…who the hell was this dude ?!
“It’s not Halloween yet, you freak. Get going or you’ll be in trouble.”
You always found the boss of this gang intimidating. Scary. And boy you definitely didn’t want to be that weirdo disguised as- what was it ? A bat ? What a freak indeed. He was going to get his ass-
What the actual fuck.
Beaten to a pulp in a few seconds, and it wasn’t the one you were betting on. That bat-guy got rid of the boss in a few punches. Hard punches, and the sound of his jaw breaking made you shiver.
Quickly, the others started to attack him, and he got rid of all of them with apparent ease. Who was this guy ??
Then, he turned to you. You and the other “kids” who were about to have your initiation (a scar on your harm in the form of a crow, thanks god Batman came before you endured that, because it was something you could never get rid of once it was branded on you..) just stared at him.
And then, they all ran away. Except for you. Because you felt mesmerized by this dude, who just dropped in, beat everyone, took their guns, and…He was leaving now.
Your eyes crossed his, for a few seconds. It was clear he had no intention to fight you or your friends, he just came to beat the gang up (probably had it coming). And that’s when it clicked in your head.
How could you think that joining the very problem would make anything better ? When did you lose hope so much, that you thought being part of a gang, the very thing that made Gotham City such a terrible place to live in, was a good idea ?
In that short time your eyes crossed the Batman’s, you felt a resolve in his look that you’ve never seen before. This. This was someone who wanted change.
This was someone who wanted to make an impact.
It inspired you. Greatly. You really hoped that one day, you could see him again so you could tell him he was the reason you made a drastic decision that night.
************
At first, it wasn’t easy. Finding the money, working two jobs while following classes…But in the end, it wasn’t actually that hard to join the force.
Who would’ve thought becoming a cop was so easy ? Shouldn’t they have more training ? Maybe that was why so many of them were so trigger happy…
You still believed there were good cops though. And you were motivated to become one. To help better this city, truly. And to stand up for what was right.
You obviously couldn’t become a night vigilante. But you could try to make this place a better one, from the inside. You had ambition. You had will. Motivation.
You were going to be part of the change.
************
Was the only good cop in Gotham city Jim Gordon ?????
You knew this city was wretched to the core, but to that extend ? You never imagined it. You kept being assigned to new partners, as you adamantly refused any sort of corruption. You knew at some point, they would try to get rid of you. That they were going to make sure you’d get a desk job, or worst.
Thanks god for people like James Gordon, who still believed in what a “cop” was supposed to be. Those were so few.
Corruption, racial profiling, use of excessive force, bribes to look the other way or to scare someone…
Every flaw you could think of in a cop ? You could find them in way too many officers of the GCPD. But you held on. Because you had renewed hope. And this was a hard thing to kill, especially in young minds.
Gordon was working with the Batman, who was highly disliked amongst the police rank (for obvious reason, he beat up his share of dirty cops…oh the satisfaction you had when you saw one of your “colleague” come back to the station with a broken nose, and keeping himself in line for a while because he was too afraid of the dark knight).
You really wanted to take part in everything, to help out. But Jim was afraid you were too eager, and that it would get you into trouble.
Into danger.
And, to be fair…He was absolutely right.
************
If someone would have told you a few weeks ago that you’d save the goddamn Batman, you probably would have laughed in their faces. After two years on the force not seeing even his shadow, you kinda lost hope of seeing him for real again (unless you turned to crime again).
And yet, it happened. And it was fucking awesome.
************
He was fighting a bunch of thugs in a back alley, when you came by. You weren’t even gonna intervene, you knew the man, he could definitely handle himself…But then, you noticed one of the guy he was fighting taking a few steps back, and drawing a gun. It was pointed right at the bat’s head and he was going to pull the trigger in a matter of seconds !
You didn’t think, you acted. You jumped in the alley, surprising all of them, and with an expertly done high kick (or so you thought, truth was, it was wobbly and you almost dislocated your hip), you got the gun out of the man’s hand, knocking him down with a mean left hook. Damn, you turned into a total badass under the adrenaline ! You were super proud of yourself.
Your hand was definitely broken. You didn’t even feel it.
Batman quickly got rid of the last few thugs, and turned to you. Suddenly, you didn’t feel that excited anymore, the man was impressive. So tall. Large. Muscular. Yeah ok, he was totally sexy, even the little bit of face you could see was appealing.
You shook your head, no wasn’t the time. But damn.
He turned his gaze on you (was the dude wearing a massive amount of eyeliner around his eyes ??), and, with a low voice that made your knee weak (or was it the adrenaline wearing off and your body realizing it was hurt ? Excuses excuses), asked you :
“Are you alright ? This was very foolish to jump in like that, I didn’t need your help. You could have been ”
“Yeah I’m alright” you said, and then added, quite annoy at that dude you technically should’ve arrested anyway : “And like Hell you didn’t need my help, I totally saved your life just now ! You should learn to be more thankful !”
“…”
“Wow. Ok. So you’re an ass. It’s true what they say, don’t meet you hero and all that.”
“The ass can give you a ride to the nearest hospital, you’re bleeding.”
“What ?”
He pointed to your arm, and…oh. Yeah. You got shot. Damn.
“I didn’t even feel it…”
“Must be the rush of epinephrine in your blood. Come on, follow me.”
You did. What else could you do ? You were starting to feel a little weak, as the “epinephrine” was slowly going away. And a weak cop in Gotham City’s street ? Felt like you wouldn’t see the sun rise.
“Wow. The fuck is that ?”
His vehicle was…peculiar, to say the least. You’ve never seen something like that. It didn’t really feel safe.
“My car. Hop in. And do not touch anything.”
You had a few seconds of hesitation and then thought : “Eh, what could go wrong anyway ?” Famous last word…although for once, nothing bad actually happened.
He drove you to the nearest hospital, without saying a word, and almost threw you out of the car. Ass.
Your wound wasn’t deep, a bullet just grazed you and you only needed a few stitches. And a cast on your hand. You were out two hours later. You went home by foot, because walking always cleared your mind, and damn it needed to be cleared right now.
You just saved the Batman ! YOU JUST SAVE THE BATMAN !!
He didn’t even say anything about you calling him your “hero”, but he definitely was ! Ever since that night he saved you from joining up a gang. Did he remember you ? Probably not. Why would he anyway ? It was so long ago, and you were just another face amongst many.
After a quick shower, you were finally calm, and decided to do some laundry, as your small apartment’s floor was littered with dirty clothes. While emptying your pockets, you found a note in the pants you were wearing today.
“Thank you for saving my life,
- The Ass who drove you to the hospital (or “Your hero”, pick one)”
Ha. A thank you note. How lame. And yet, you kept the little piece of paper, because you felt it wasn’t every day that the famous Dark Knight (made even more famous recently when he saved many during Gotham’s flood, and foiled The Riddler’s plan) wrote thank you notes, and it was a collectible.
************
After that, you ended in Batman’s way a lot. You weren’t doing it on purpose. Not at all. You decided to be a cop because you wanted to help people, and not because you had a death wish. Constantly getting in the way of criminals and Batman wasn’t really in your intentions. And yet, it seemed Destiny really wanted you guys to work together, because every time you were on patrol (you mostly took night shift…I wonder why), your pass crossed the Bat.
On the dock, while a drug deal was going on. You saved him again, but, to be fair, he also saved you after you got knocked out and fell into the freezing water of Gotham’s bay. Another ride in the bat mobile, another silent trip, and another note : “Thanks, but you also owe me one. I hope I won’t see you again.” Wow. Ok. Ass.
In front of the most famous bank in Gotham, during a robbery. You saved the hostages while Batman was kicking some ass. This time, no hospital, and no notes either, just a nod from him, and many thanks from the people you saved.
************
“(Y/N), please. Stop this.”
“Stop what, exactly ?”
You knew what Gordon was talking about. But pretending not to was funner.
“You know what I’m talking about. You just like to pretend you don’t to have a little laugh.” Oh a always so attentive. You smirk at him, and he sighs deeply before saying :
“Please. We’re still so few not corrupted, even after what happened with The Riddler. I would hate to lose someone like you.”
“Listen Jim, I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself.”
“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t be worried. Plus you have to admit it’s quite a “coincidence” you always get yourself in trouble like that.”
It was, quite a coincidence. Except, not really.
“I’m just doing my job. You know I answer calls ignored by…Some of us.”
“Yes…Just. Please. I couldn’t bear to lose another of the good ones.”
He was referring to just last week, when one of your colleague you knew was clean was found dead in a ditch. With absolutely no lead about who killed him…Of course, you and Gordon had your suspicions that it was an inside job, as he was handling a rather delicate affair that got filed away.
************
In the sewer, going after Killer Croc. Granted, it was a terrible idea, his threat was still unknown and new, and from what you heard the “man” was terrifying. And yet. You and Batman took him down. Well. To be fair, Batman did. You just served as bait…ugh, what an asshole. Well. At least it worked. Again, no hospital nor notes, but a smirk on his face, and a “see you later ?”.
It just kept happening, wherever you went during your patrol, wherever you were called on, he was there. It became a habit. He already knew thanks to Jim Gordon that having someone valuable and trustworthy in the police was helpful, so another “good one” ? Yes please. You found that having the Batman on your side was FUCKING helpful. No matter what some of your superiors would say (you still hadn’t been assigned a new partner, something recurrent with good cops according to Gordon…after all, when you were alone, you had more risk of ending up dead with no one taking your back), the Batman was a blessing for this city.
************
Bruce couldn’t quite explain it, but he found himself irrevocably attracted to you…He tried to resist, because in his line of work, there was no place for a relationship (his sad encounter with Selina Kyle, and how it ended too soon was proof enough). But you were so brave, beautiful, optimistic, intelligent (you had so many flaws he couldn’t even see)…And one day, he found himself “meeting you for the first time”, “randomly” while you were going home from work (and him from his nightly patrol).
Alfred is the one that convinced him. A woman like you, fighting so fiercely for your city’s safety, and not judging one bit his Batman persona (except that you still thought he was kind of an ass) ? Well, you didn’t find a woman like that at each street’s corner. Unlike Selina, you had no intention of ever leaving Gotham, no matter how tough life was in it. And, didn’t Bruce deserve happiness ? He thought he could never have it again, but when he was around you…
Yes. Alfred could be very convincing. Bruce had to give it a try. And what could he loose if it wasn’t working out ? (Everything. The answer was everything, but he didn’t know that for now, he wasn’t in love yet).
And so, as Bruce Wayne, he wooed you…and you couldn’t help but fall for his charming ways. Who would’ve thought that the “most eligible bachelor in Gotham”, who barely showed his face and who constantly looked like a depressed puppy, could be so appealing ? Smart, sexy, funny ? And most of all, he shared your dream. Very recently, Bruce Wayne had come back in Gotham’s scene, and decided to use his money for good, like his parents did. After the Renewal debacle, and what The Riddler uncovered, Bruce said that it was time for him to continue his parents’ legacy.
How could you a guy like that ?
************
At night, you fought by the Caped Crusader’s side, sometimes getting injured, but it would never be life threatening. He would never let you be in a life threatening situation anyway…He made sure the cases you helped him on required mostly brain work, and few fightings. And when fights there was, he always kept an eye on your back. Against his better judgement, he started to fall for you…And you for him.
By day, whenever he had a day off, or even a few hours free in the afternoon (as you were sleeping late in the morning, you know, night shifts…and that was good, because him too was sleeping late), you were with him too. Only, you didn’t know it was him. For you, it was Bruce Wayne. And you felt guilty that you slowly started to fall in love with him too…Fuck, in what mess did you got yourself, falling in love with a night vigilante, and a billionaire philanthropist ?
************
Another six months passed, and things were going great. The Batman seemed to trust you, which was something right ? You’ve been helping him (whether he wanted it or not) for the past year, and that got you a promotion as a detective. How fucking awesome was that ?
You knew James Gordon had something to do with it too. He was your mentor, after all. And after The Riddler’s debacle and how the police department’s corruption went public, he gained more and more power amongst the force.
Oh, and you started to date Bruce Wayne seriously. Like, it was official. There was pictures of you two in the paper and all, and he didn’t deny you being his girlfriend. On the contrary. It felt great to be the one who caught the great Bruce Wayne’s heart. You still wondered what he saw in you though, the first time you met you were coming back from work, without any make-up and disheveled, highly unattractive…and yet, you ended up giving him your number. Incredible.
Little did you know that he fell for you while under the Batman’s cowl…but of course, could only make his move as Bruce Wayne.
************
You were a bit more tired than usual that night, and so, a bit distracted.
You didn’t see those men jumping out of a dark place to corner you. Ah. You recognized some of them. They were all masked, but their eyes couldn’t lie. You saw the hate in them, and you knew they were some of your police officer “friends”. The dirty one.
There was still a lot of work to do, to clear the GCPD fully of its “bad apples”. Especially when their methods of getting rid of the good ones were more drastic. It was easier to get rid of someone literally, killing them, than to slowly work at dismantling this rotten and rotting system.
That night, the Batman wasn’t fast enough to stop them from hurting you pretty badly.
Damn it. He did start to track you after a while (as most sane person do, of course…). He always kept an eye on you, although he couldn’t be everywhere. It seemed you were a magnet for trouble anyway.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. You had terrible nightmares. Of Bruce getting badly hurt. Of the Batman dying. Pain gave you hallucinations you honestly could’ve live without…
When you finally came to your senses, you saw the Bat’s face first, and you couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him. In your hazy mind, too hurt Safe. He was safe. Everything was in your head. He hugged you back…
************
And so, that’s how you found yourself in the bat cave, your tongue in the goddamn Batman’s mouth, his hand slipping under your shirt. You couldn’t deny anymore that there was some sort of attraction between him and you, and he…Well, he was also Bruce, and kissing you was just a habit of his. He just forgot that you didn’t know who he really was…
But his way of kissing you, of touching you, reminded you of your Bruce…it was impossible however, you must be wrong. Anyway, Bruce was on a business trip in France. And he wouldn’t have lied to you. They wouldn’t have lied to you.
And suddenly, you felt awfully guilty. Your tongue and the Dark Knight’s were wrestling each other, and all you could think about was your boyfriend. You pulled away, and took his hand out of your shirt.
“Hum…”
“Is something wrong ?”
“…Yes. I can’t do that. I…I’m in a steady relationship right now and…Well, I love him.”
“Ah. Bruce Wayne ?”
“Your benefactor.”
“Yeees…”
It was awkward, you had to leave. He understood, and drove you to your apartment. In silence. When you existed the car though, you almost thought you saw him smile. Not just a smirk, a full on smile, and somehow, this smile reminded you of someone, you just couldn’t pinpoint who (years later, you still wondered why you didn’t recognized that jawline ! Maybe it was because their behavior were so widly different, that it seemed impossible for you that Bruce was also Batman…Lois Lane would make you feel better about all that, because for the same reason, she didn’t recognized Clark for years and honestly, wtf ?)
You said your goodbyes, and that was that. Well. A chapter of your life was over. And you just couldn’t be that bummed out with Bruce in it…You just wished the Batman would have his place in too.
************
A few days passed, and you avoided Batman. It was better like that. You took care of other things at night. It was better like that. So why your heart kept tightening whenever you thought about never seeing him again ?
Bruce’s hand slipping in yours got you out of your daydreams, and erased any worries. No. It was better like that. You and the Batman would have no future, but you and Bruce ? Things could happen. Right ?
“Hey you.”
“Hey, I missed you.”
“You were only gone for…what, three days ?”
“When every day without you feels like a year.”
“Oh you motherfucker, so cheesy.”
Bruce’s personality slowly unfolded in front of you. And in front of the public, too. He used to be recluse, refused to speak to reporters etc. Now, he was more open, and involved in Gotham life (the Riddler’s misadventures made him realize he needed to keep an eye on Gotham’s finances, to follow his parents’ legacy, and that Gotham needed Bruce Wayne as much as it needed Batman, if not more).
“You love it.”
“Maybe…Come here my Bruce.”
His kisses were the best. Soft or rough, tender or hungry…They were just the best. The flash of a camera cruelly brings the both of you back to reality.
“Damn fucking paparazzis…” you growled.
Ever since he finally came back in the public eyes, it felt like they never left him alone (Bruce used this at his great advantage, making sure his picture would be taken while the “Batman” (really, thanks Alfre) was out). But it really bothered you.
“You’ll have to get used to them if…”
“If ?”
“…If you’re as seriously involved in this relationship than I am. Because no matter what I can do, paparazzis always follow me. Comes with the package of being a Wayne…”
“Oh.”
“Oh ?”
“If it comes with the package, then so be it.”
And you went back to kiss him…until another flash almost blinded you.
“Let’s get out of here, ok ?”
“I thought you’d never say it.”
You took his hand, and guided him with you through Gotham city’s street to your apartment. It was definitely official now. Bruce Wayne had a steady girlfriend. He was taking walks with her, hands in hands, very publicly. It was on the headline of every newspaper the next day, with a picture of you two, looking ridiculously happy, walking hands in hands down the streets.
************
This night was going to be the night. You weren’t working, and Bruce said he could stay with you.
This night was going to be the night. The night you were going to sleep with him for the first time. You made him wait, just to be sure he was serious, and he wasn’t considering you like another random conquest (a background of womanizing behavior suddenly emerged, along with many tabloid articles about his past, when he was away from Gotham). But you waited enough, tonight…Was gonna be thenight.
You were still scared shitless though. What if he left you after that ? What if you guys weren’t actually as serious as you thought ?
As he was sitting on your couch, you straddling him, his tongue in your mouth, those thoughts plagued your mind. He felt something was wrong, and pulled away from you.
“What is it ?”
The concern in his voice…Too sexy. A moment of silence went by, and then you replied :
“What are we doing Bruce ?”
“Well, I was hum…kissing you I believe.”
You roll your eyes. This was a side of Bruce you discovered along the way. That guy could be quite cheeky, when he wanted to.
“I’m not talking about that, I mean…”
“What do you mean ?”
“What are we ?”
“I thought you already knew what we were.”
“If I ask the question it means I’m not so sure no ?”
“I guess so…Well, what do you wanna be ?”
“I asked first.”
“Oh ok, so if you don’t think the same thing than me, I’m gonna be the one with a broken heart…Alright, well, here we go. I never wanted anyone in my life as bad as I want you. Here. I said it.“
This was a part, you found later, you could see in Batman too. His quick retort, right to the point. But for now, you didn’t know the truth quite yet.
“Oh…”
“Oh ?”
//THIS IS WHERE THE SMUT STARTS. PLEASE AGAIN, 18+ ONLY//
Your mouth crashing on his was an answer enough. You whispered in his ear how important he was to you too, without using the words “I love you”, still not ready, while your hands were opening the button of his dress shirt in a frenzy. His strong arms wrapped around you, and once again, you couldn’t help but be surprised at how buff he was. The man was working out a lot…His muscles were probably as big as Batman’s ! Wait, stop. You couldn’t think about Batman right now, only Bruce was important. Because it was true, you did love him. But…No but. Only Bruce.
His hands slipping under your shirt were enough for only him to occupy all of your thoughts. To fill you with lust and want. His shirt was off, and you dragged your nail on his well toned chest. Again, the man was working out. A lot. His calloused (why did he have calloused hand ? As far as you were concerned, his job was mostly signing paperwork and participating in boring conferences…) palm wrapped around your waist, and squeezed. Not enough to hurt, not even enough to leave marks, and that wouldn’t do. Your mouth left his, and he whined a bit (oh, that sound), but when he felt your tongue gently licking his neck, sucking on his pulse point, he kinda lost control. His hand tightened their grip, now it was enough to make some marks. Perfect.
He tore away your shirt, ripping it to pieces.
“That was my favorite shirt.”
“No it wasn’t, you were wearing your favorite shirt the day before yesterday, I’m guessing it’s in the laundry right now.”
“Buzzkill.”
“I certainly hope not.”
And your bra was off. Has any man worshipped your breast as good as him ? Probably not. His mouth and hands made you feel like a goddess.
“I havent-”
He stumbles on his words a bit, and you look at him, curious. You knew what he was going to say, of course. But who said you couldn’t toy with him a little ? His fake bravado vanished as you looked at him, waiting for him to admit it.
“I haven’t done it in a long time…”
Ah. Here it was. And was this really a problem ? No.
“It’s okay my Bruce, just…let it go. Follow the flow. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
You wink somewhat mischievously, kind of amused at his revelation. Not in a mocking way, but because…You already knew. That man was always busy. And he lived far from everyone for so long. So, yeah, sex was definitely not on his list in the past few years, you had an inkling of that.
And how, you were right. You didn’t know yet he was the Batman of course…but yes. Bruce hadn’t think of “doing it” in quite a while. It’s only when you kissed him so passionately, that a fire build inside him. He realized though, it was useless to pretend he was the “sex machine” tabloids pretended he was when they speculated on his whereabouts when he left Gotham…
And he wanted this to go right. To treat you right, and to be honest ? To be treated right, too.
“It’s all going to be okay. Just let it go.”
Your fingers went to caress his back, and with clumsy movements, he removed your pants and panties, laying you down on your couch, placing himself over you. Your fingers deftly unmade his belt and threw it somewhere in your small apartment, to then undo his button and zipper, and poof, fancy that, his pants were off too. You could clearly see the outline of his dick through his boxers and fuck he was hard…it aroused you more than ever.
He trailed kisses from your forehead to your lips, down your jaw, your neck, collar bone, breast, stopping there to lick softly at your nipple, flicking the other one with warm fingers. And then he kept going, until he reached your thigh…He wasn’t going where you wanted however, kissing everywhere but the point where you were burning up. He must have left a hundred love bites on you that night, and you couldn’t care less. Your police uniform would cover all of them anyway, and you hoped to God that he wasn’t going to invite you anywhere where wearing a dress was required in the next few days.
You took a grip of his hair, and guided him where you wanted. Taking control of the moment. You felt him smile on your skin, but damn, you hated being teased. One hand on each thigh, he spread your legs open, and looked back up to you. Fuck, eye contact was such a turn on, you were pretty sure you never got that wet ever in your life before. He noticed, two fingers running gently up and down your fold…And then, without warning, his tongue was inside you. Flicking, swirling, his nose rubbing against your clit. You never felt anything like it. What the Hell was that ? How could he make you feel so good so fast ? You came before you had time to say : “Bruce Wayne is a champ at oral”, and you were almost embarrassed that you orgasmed that fast. But damn, what that man could do with his tongue…
He kissed his way back up, licking his lips off of your arousal, and you caught his mouth with yours again.
You wanted to return the favor, you wanted to make him feel good too, but when you grabbed his erection through his boxers, and started to rub lightly, he caught your wrist and pinned it above your head.
“Another time maybe, right now I…I just want to be inside you.”
He was blushing a bit. And his expression was so needy. How cute. What a good boy he was. You told him so, as you nodded and you guided him to your entrance.
“Ready ?”
Yes. Ready.
When he pushed slowly inside you, you lost your breath too. He was…impressive. In every sense of the term. And he stretched you to the maximum, hurting you a bit, as you weren’t use to such a size. He stilled, letting you adjust to him. He saw you winced when he penetrated you, and hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. Hell, he never wanted to do it. So he waited for you to be fully ready.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him against you, pushing him even further inside, as if it was possible…And with a kiss on his shoulders, you breathed out :
“You can go…”
He looked in your eyes, and once he was sure you meant it, he slowly exited you, almost entirely, before unhurriedly pushed back in bit by bit. He found a slow and sweet pace, that allowed him to feel your entire being under him. Your breath, your heart beats, your little moans and cute squealing.
He couldn’t stop himself from going a bit faster , as he felt his cock thrusting in and out of you easily, slickly. You pushed him deep within you, your heels digging in his back, and he almost lost control.
You wanted it faster. Harder. And you voiced your need. Thanks god. Because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to retain himself to pound into you mercilessly much longer.
Again, this was the first time you felt that way. The only few men you had sex with never felt like that, never felt that good, and that perfect inside you. As if you were made for him, and him for you. More importantly, none of them seemed to care for you as much as he did, being careful with you, and following your desire first, his second.
He was sucking on your neck lovingly, and your nails scratched his back, as he relentlessly hammered into you. You dragged his head to your face, and kissed him. Hard. He responded obviously, as his hips expertly rolled against yours.
You met him thrust for thrust, and your movement made him groan in pleasure. He might be a sex god (or so you thought), but you weren’t too bad yourself. You had some moves. And you used all of them on him. At some point, you felt his hands stilling your waist, and his short breath on your neck.
“Stop, or I’m not going to last.”
“Stop what ?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about (Y/N), stop this thing you do with your hips.”
“You mean…that.”
And you reeled your hips against his, making him take a deep breath, and suppressing a loud moan. Oh that wouldn’t do. You wanted to hear him, it was not fair if you were the only one screaming his name. You did it again, making him gasp.
“Fuck…No one ever…No one ever did that to me…Stop…”
“Does it feel good ?”
“Yes, fuck, it feels too good (Y/N).”
“Then why stop ?”
And he was gone, jack hammering hard inside you, his pace faltering as his release was close. But he would not come first. That wasn’t gentlemanly. Leaving an arm by your head to support his weight and not crush you, the other one went to your core, and he flicked two fingers at your clit, rubbing furiously because he was too damn close…You came, his name on your lips, your body shaking uncontrollably, and he followed you soon after, pulling out just in time to not spill inside you, but all over your stomach.
He collapsed on you, unable to hold himself, but it was alright, his weight on you was somewhat comforting. It felt safe under there.
“Do you have a cloth or something ?”
“First drawer in the bathroom.”
“Be right back.”
And indeed, a few minutes later, he came back with a wet cloth to clean you up. He was already clean, and he raised you in his arms to lay on the couch, you on top of him.
“Wow.”
“Wow indeed.”
“What the Hell was that (Y/N) ?”
“You mean, the hip thing ?”
“Yeah, the hip thing.”
“I don’t know, discovered a while ago that men liked it, kept doing it.”
“Well, I confirm. Men definitely like it. Damn.”
“You weren’t bad either. Actually, no one ever made me feel like that before.”
“Oh, and I’m not done honey, after all, we’ve got…all night right ?”
Your thoughts went to Batman for a bit, hoping he was alright, and not in danger. Little did you know “Batman” was with you right now, and was about to take you multiple time, on your couch, on the sink in your bathroom, under the shower, and in your bed, in a wide array of different positions, until the morning rose and you fell asleep, exhausted.
************
You woke up to an empty bed, and for a moment, felt a panic rise in your chest. But only for a moment, as you saw a note on the pillow Bruce fell asleep on. It read :
“Hey, I swear this isn’t me running out on you (Y/N), I had important affairs to attend to at Wayne Industry. Let’s have dinner tonight,
Love you,
B.
PS : Last night was great. Wait, that’s insufficient. Last night was life changing. ”
Cute. So damn cute. And he said “love you”. Of course it was written hastily on a note but, still. And last night was…”life changing” ? Wow. And so you smiled…But your smile soon disappeared.
Wh…What ? OH MY GOD ! How could you have been so oblivious ? So stupid ? How did you not notice anything ? Weren’t you suppose to be a cop ??
You ran to a drawer at your desk, the one you put away Batman’s note he gave you almost a year ago…The same handwriting. The exact same. The way they were curling the letters, the point on their “i”…Holy shit.
HOLY SHIT.
But of course.
They were the same person. Batman, was Bruce, Bruce, was Batman. You couldn’t help the fit of laughter that washed over you. Of course they were. It all made sense ! So that’s why the Dark Knight’s lips felt so familiar, you were right, your guts weren’t lying to you !
Instead of being mad at him for not telling you the truth, you were relieved. So you weren’t in love with two men, since they were the same one. Pfiooo. Yes. It did make you a bit sad though, that he wasn’t trusting you enough to tell you who he really was…You decided to go see him right now, to have a bit more explanations. You weren’t going to let him go.
************
Alfred answered the door as you rung the bell.
“Oh, Lady (Y/N), good to see you. Master Bruce wasn’t waiting for you until…”
“Where is he Alfred ? I have to talk to him, it’s urgent.”
“I’m afraid he…”
“I know he’s Batman.”
“Oh. Well that changes everything. Follow me if you please.”
************
Under the Manor. That’s where the batcave was. When Bruce saw you, he found himself speechless, and extremely nervous. Back to the puppy eyed face that used to be plastered on Bruce Wayne, before he started to get out there again. When you explained to him your discovery however, he seemed more relax. You weren’t mad, you understood, and you were actually glad that Batman and him was the same person, loving two men wasn’t really your thing. But you were a bit saddened at his lack of trust…He wasn’t lacking trust. He trusted you with his life. It was more…Being afraid of how you’d react, afraid you’d leave him, and that, he couldn’t bear. Silly man. Of course you weren’t going to leave him, you were fucking in love with him.
“…I love you (Y/N).”
First time he told it to you vocally. He wrote it in notes before, but he never told you right in your face. It was great. The kiss he gave you that day, after you whispered in his ear “I love you too”, was full of promises to never keep anything from you anymore. And that was it.
Finally, you could see it.
The brighter future which perspective was open when you first saw him, and he “saved” you. That future that felt more and more confirmed as you saw his feat around Gotham. And then, when The Riddler’s plans were foiled and Bruce Wayne finally came out of the dark.
That brighter future you saw in Bruce’s eyes, that first night.
Who would’ve thought it would’ve brought you here ?
Certainly not the you from years ago, desperate to survive. Ah. Proof to never give up, right ?
Ok. So. If you’ve been here since A LONG TIME, you might’ve feel like you read something a little similar before…This is a COMPLETE rewriting of a 2017 story I wrote, and thought deserved to be redone with Battinson in mind (I reworked it quite a bit, like many things changed but the basic plot of cop/bat is the same). Also honestly, haven’t seen anyone like or interact in any way with that old story in like, over a year ? So I thought : “Feels like many people, especially new to the fandom, probably didn’t read it”. + Like I said, I just felt like the story deserved a second breath. And I poured again quite a bit of work in this, so I hope you like it ! :D
And that it’s not too cringy. My greatest fear haha.
Okay we’re going to suspend reality (like the comics) and he’s going to be like 35. I can’t imagine a relationship with anyone older. So yeah, Dick is like 25 and Bruce is 35. That math won’t work unless Bruce adopted him 17 seconds after turning 18 but we’ll ignore that.
Warning: smut. It’s on sex pollen so there is a dub con warning despite the fact that they are willing participants.
Summary: all of the batboys are dusted with Poison Ivy’s sex toxin and think they’ve taken an antidote. It didn’t quite work. This is the story about what happens to Bruce.
based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she’s from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson’s universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn’t trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues?? Thank you so much and have a great day!! ❤
author’s note:hello. this took me 9-10hours and i still think the ending sucks BUT oh well. am i gonna rewrite it ??? no. i think you guys will like it, the chapter has a nice surprise over-all, hihi, and i’m too tired and running out of time to rewrite this chapter. ngl, i have some really good moments here in my writing, and i hope you guys will see them and appreciate them :) thank u sm on the feedback, as always, i love you all. happy reading!!1
warnings:LONGGG!!! hope it doesn’t bore anyone. also smut!! p in v sex, oral sex on f, fingers in mouth, emotional sex, praise, creampie, all the good stuff yk B)
gif credit goes to owner!
bruce knows he can’t follow her. physically it’s impossible, because he’s not like her, and he’d lose a lot of time getting down on the street and onto his bike. even though there is the urge to try out the new wings he recently made, but he hasn’t even tried them out in a safer environment before, so it would be foolish and lethal to try them out now to follow her.
but he also knows where she’ll be at the end of the night. it disappoints and upsets him that she’s chosen not to meet him at their usual rendez-vous and is, instead, apparently swinging around gotham and fighting for justice on her own. it eats away at him, and he’s rightfully upset as, again, he has no explanation from her about it. did she just play him for a fool? did she lie to him?
she didn’t exactly promise to meet him. that day at her work, or any later day. she said she doesn’t know if she can ever meet him again, and she didn’t say anything after he promised to be at their place every night. she didn’t say anything. so she didn’t lie, either.
alfred’s voice is in bruce’s head again, saying she just needs time. and that he’ll scare her away if he intrudes on that space, on that time with herself. but he can’t wait any longer. it’s been nearly a week since that day at her workplace. he saw her, right now, slinging across the train tracks and the street below them. bruce almost thinks she did it for show, having the knowledge that he’ll be on location, and will be seeing her from it.
it’s only a few minutes past eleven thirty, which means she will be done with her night shift soon. on the nights bruce couldn’t make it, she usually went out at nine or ten by herself. and even though bruce never told her that, he worried for each of those nights about her, and secretly didn’t want her to go. but she’s quicker than him, and has powers, and can’t stay away from saving citizens longer than a day. she’s been out nearly every night, and only on the occasions of particularly heavy work shifts has she passed on the opportunity.
bruce guesses she’s addicted to that. saving people, putting criminals to justice, giving them what they deserve—it gets her off. it’s not the adrenaline anymore, it’s her usual nightly routine. her alcohol, her drug, her cigarette.
judging by the time he has left, bruce gets moving off the train platform. he jogs down each little set of stairs, feeling a little stupid doing it, but does it nonetheless, until he’s finally on the street level and makes his way towards that alley he parked his bike in. what is she doing out there alone? has she gone out alone before, in these six days she hasn’t met up with him? does she not want to work with him again? does she not want anything to do with him, knowing that he’ll be waiting every night for her, anyway?
she’s become a bigger mystery to him again, and it’s safe to say that bruce is bubbling over with emotions as he trudges up the fire escape stairs and unlocks the window to her living room with a little metal hook. just a small thing he always keeps in his pocket, in case he needs to break in somewhere. yes, he is intruding, and he feels like he’s intruding, rightfully so, but it doesn’t feel the least bit wrong. he has to do this. he has to see her. he has to talk to her.
he closes the window and locks it from the inside so she wouldn’t suspect anything as she’ll come in later. he doesn’t want to spook her, much less give her a heart attack, he just wants her raw and true like she always is, without any prejudice about what might have happened to her window, or who has entered it.
bruce sits down on her sofa, the one she sat him down in all those nights ago, on their first real meeting, their first solid interaction. sitting in the exact spot he was then, bruce feels memories of that night flooding in, and they play like a little short movie before his eyes. how he watched her attend to his wounds, how he helped her clean hers up, it was on her thigh. how she sat next to him and touched his hair, asking questions and telling him random different things.
he remembers how soothed he was by her. she made him immediately feel at peace, and he trusted her almost immediately, as well. she was kind to him, didn’t know and didn’t care who he was. she just wanted to be equal with him—she took off her mask, and requested he do the same. no question about his name or anything, she just needed him to understand how trust for her works. even though that instinct of hers told her to trust him already.
tears gather in his eyes at those thoughts of her. the memories are too strong, too close to his heart, even closer than he’d like to admit. so much so that he nearly misses her coming home. he only hears her sigh of effort when she’s already jumped onto her living room floor, and at that noise, bruce snaps his head towards her. true enough, she’s still in her spider-woman suit, and she’s pulled off her mask. she doesn’t gasp in shock or surprise at the sight of him there, or at the quick turn of his head, her spidey-sense having kicked in again and she sensed another presence in the flat before she even came in. but she furrows her eyebrows, and focuses more on bruce, thinking, for just a moment, that she might be hallucinating and that he’s not really there. but he is. and though his eyes are dark, bright tears shine in the corners of them.
“what are you doing here?” y/n asks and strides over to him, her mask in hand before she leaves it on the coffee table. she turns around and draws her curtains, then, wanting privacy from anyone who might be watching from now on. bruce watches her all the while, his breaths beginning to grow heavier.
“why were you out there alone?” bruce asks her finally, and y/n shakes her head at his voice. the brooding, intimidating growl of batman is in it. she turns back to face him. his eyes are looking right into hers, nearly boring holes into them, into her, as if wanted to do that.
y/n shakes her head again, “if you wanna talk, you’re gonna have to take off your mask.” she tells him quietly, fearing that it’s not her place to request something. that she’s undeserving even of such a little, but important thing. she doesn’t want to talk to batman, she wants to talk to bruce. with batman comes this great act, and so much more bravery than bruce has on the regular. she looks up at him from her hands. “it’s just you and me. and i don’t need batman now.”
infuriated and impatient, bruce pulls the cowl off so fast it makes a scratch in the side of his head, but he pays no attention to it, only making a small wince in reaction. y/n must say he looks like he usually does. and by usual, she means the black smear around his eyes that can’t hide the purplish bags under them, which are evidence of sleepless nights. no wonder. she didn’t see those on him while she was at the manor with him, because he slept through each night with her.
but the fury and threatening volcano eruption on his face takes her back a little. she hopes that anger isn’t towards her, but she knows that it probably is. she feels awkward, and embarrassed, and out of place. she sighs and walks over to her kitchen island, ten feet at best to bruce’s left. he watches her go and he unsnaps his cape, leaving it on the back of the sofa, and then he pushes his kevlar suit off himself one by one, trying to do it fast. y/n fixes herself something to drink from her fridge all the while, and she makes another full glass, in case bruce wants some, too.
if she doesn’t want batman now, that’s what he’ll give her. he walks over to her in the kitchen only after the batman parts of his suit are off, including the flattening jacket. he’s now dressed in a t-shirt, jeans and socks, feeling both out of place and exactly at home, dressed like that in her apartment. y/n watches him come up to her, that glass of a drink in her hand lifted up to her face, where the cold beverage is cooling her cheek. she looks at him with anxious, but tired eyes.
“why were you out there alone?” bruce asks her after he situates himself across her, his back leaning into the kitchen island as hers is leaned against her counter. y/n sighs.
“i wasn’t fighting alone,” she tells him quietly, “i was just swinging around, clearing my head. nothing more.” she sighs and looks into her glass. “not that you should know what i’m up to,” y/n shakes her head. bruce’s nostrils flare.
“ishould know,” he argues.
“what, are you gonna ground me for fighting some low-lives on my own?” y/n’s upset towards bruce has quickly turned into anger. perhaps she’s pissed off by him, by all the things he chooses to be blind to when he’s not batman. bruce gives her eyes with such fire in them. but also defeat. he knows he can’t ground her, or tell her what to do and what not to do. it’s not his right, not his place, and not his choice to make, after all. she knows that, too, of course. “bruce, you can’t keep me away from the world.” she says, and has to admit that saying his name caused her heart a little pain.
he looks straight at her now, those fiery, defeated eyes now concentrated on something more precise. “is that what you thought i was doing?” he asks her. “is that why you left? you thought i was keeping you locked in with me?”
y/n shakes her head as her eyes close. he really is blind to the things she thought he was. she has always been right about him, but he – nearly never about her. “no, i didn’t think that,” y/n tells him. then what? “and that’s not why i left.”
“then why did you?” bruce asks, and the volume his voice reaches frightens y/n, so much so that she looks at him with widened eyes. bruce sees them, and wants to apologise immediately, wants to take that back. “why did you leave? why didn’t you say anything? why didn’t you come meet me all these nights? i waited for you.” his eyes fill with tears again, those previous ones having dried beforehand already. bruce’s lip trembles. “why didn’t you just… tell me? how you felt, what was wrong?”
y/n is too impatient with bruce, with herself, with his questions. “because it’s hard to!” she says. “even despite my instinct, despite everything that we’ve gone through together, i still don’t know if i can open up to you like that!” she looks into his eyes again. it saddens her that there’s no ounce of understanding in them, only confusion. “i told you that it’s nothing you can change, but maybe it is now… i don’t know.”
“y/n, just tell me, please,” bruce says and takes those two steps closer to her, so he can cradle her cheeks in his hands and be closer to her. he sticks to her like a magnet, and she has the urge to wrap her hands around his form, too, and pull him close as possible. but she fights it, not wanting to let this conversation go to waste, “i…” bruce gulps, “i want you… to be with me. whether we’re working, or—or reading together, or listening to music, or whatever else—i just want you here with me.” or whatever else. bruce shakes his head, his forehead gently bumping against hers. tears have filled y/n’s eyes now, too. she can hear in his voice how much she’s hurt him, and it breaks her heart. she didn’t mean to. she never did. “this isn’t easy for me, either, i’ve never…” he sighs shortly, his head making a gentle shake, “i’ve never had anyone like you before in my life. and i don’t want to lose you.”
did he really just say that to her? y/n can hardly believe her ears. does he mean those words? he wouldn’t be saying them if he didn’t, to be fair. y/n squeezes her eyes shut to avoid crying, but her tears spill all the same. bruce feels the ragged breath she takes, he feels how it makes her whole form tremble under him. y/n wipes at her tears with her hand and sobs, “i’m sorry,” she tells him, “i didn’t want to hurt you.” she says in wails. “i just… couldn’t take it anymore. we’re too different, bruce. your world is so much more different than mine.” y/n says and wipes her tears again. she hates that she can’t talk about this without crying.
bruce takes it as in the sense that she’s gotten to gotham from a different world physically, but again, it’s evidence that things like that fly over his head so easily. “what do you mean?” he asks her and leans back a little, unconsciously giving her space. he even pulls his hands away from her, leaving her completely untouched for now. for however long she needs.
y/n is quiet for a while as she gathers herself. every word that she had planned to tell him at some point now seems to bring more and more sobs, pain and tears from her. it’s hard talking that way. “i mean… look at how you’re living,” she says. the mansion, the wealth, the family legacy, “all i ever had was a small basement flat in queens,” she tells him, and her voice grows squeaky in a wail towards the end, “my mother had to work… terrible, absolutely inhuman jobs to pay the rent, get us food. with no one to help us.” y/n sobs and hides her face in her hands from bruce. he doesn’t touch her, being able to tell that she really doesn’t need that right now. “only after… she died did i find out that i have an aunt. they weren’t on good terms, but she took me in immediately. even though she had no idea how to raise a kid.” y/n sighs, and shakes her head. “i can see… by the way you behave, how and where you live, that you don’t know what that’s like. you haven’t worked a day in your life. everything that you have has come easy to you.” she looks up into his eyes.
bruce can’t deny he feels upset by those words. never had to work a day in his life… but he doesn’t get the type of work y/n means. building tools, devices, suits and vehicles in the abandoned station named after your parents with all the money you have from thin air is work to him, but it’s not work in reality, is it? that’s just money spending, the complete opposite of work.
“i haven’t had a day since my eighteenth birthday in which i haven’t had to work, or fight for what’s important to me.” y/n tells him. she won’t go into detail about her mother and how she died, or about her best friend, who met the same fate. he doesn’t need to know that. it doesn’t really have anything to do with this conversation. “that’s where you and me are different. i don’t expect you to understand, but…” she shakes her head, “you asked, since you… clearly can’t understand what you don’t know, so here it is. that’s why i left.” she looks into his eyes again. “that’s why i have a complicated relationship with money.”
bruce nods, his eyes faltering away from hers. now that she’s told him about her childhood, or at least some part of it—it seems there’s more to tell—he gets why she was so cold. why she was so adamant on knowing why he bought her those things, why she had a hard time accepting them. he doesn’t understand the things she’s went through, the life she’s had, but at least he knows about them, and understands hermore.
“and it’s none of your fault for how you grew up, for your father’s wealth,” y/n speaks up again, wanting bruce to be less confused about her feelings towards him in all this. bruce nods again, though biting back tears, “it’s just… i don’t think you and i have the same goals or—or beliefs.” she says and sniffles again. bruce furrows his eyebrows. “sure, we’re fighting all those guys at night, but during the day… you could be doing that and more. with everything you have.” she says in a fainter voice, cautious of his response. bruce wayne. prince of the city. gotham’s richest.
the suggestion in her words hits straight into his heart, as well as his pride. and his beliefs. bruce is silent as he thinks it all over, and y/n is afraid he’ll bolt out the door any second. he could do that, taking how he sometimes gets very unpredictable. but her instinct tells her otherwise, and so does bruce’s body language. gears are turning and pipes are hissing in his mind, it’s all so visible in his eyes.
she’s never had prospects like he has. she’s never had the money to change things in the world she sees as unjust. bruce can tell she’d do a lot if she had it, so maybe he should give her all the money he has? maybe follow up on that half-serious offer of hers and make her the head of wayne enterprises. she has much more spirit, much more will to act than he does. it hurts him that she’s seen it, but it doesn’t hurt that it’s the truth. perhaps he’s just been too afraid to acknowledge it.
so many questions are still begging to be asked, so many thoughts are running through his mind on repeat, one after the other. he leans off the island and comes closer to y/n again, slowly, cautiously, hoping to not intrude onto her space, scared she might swat him away, push him away. his hand caresses her hair as the other cups her cheek, she’s letting him. he looks into her eyes, which are blinking between his and those wandering, affectionate hands of his. “how did your mother die?” bruce asks so softly and quietly she could have missed it. y/n’s eyes showcase fear, and the urge to turn away, to get attention off herself, to escape his hold. then she blinks, hangs her head low and sighs softly.
“at work,” she tells him coldly, nearly paralysed in how exposed she currently is, “she was killed. because she wanted out.” y/n sniffles very strongly and looks down at her hands as she takes her gloves off. her lips press into a thin line. the loss of her mother still does numbers on her heart. bruce gulps. she’s saddening him more and more with every new thing she tells him.
“i’m sorry,” he tells her, the hand caressing her hair again, this time also moving in between her strands, cradling her head from behind. he only means well, and he only wants to be closer to her. y/n understands that, “were you there?” like i was when my mother and father got killed?
y/n shakes her head. “no,” she answers. she remembers that day very well, “i was at home. didn’t know until… cops showed up at the door.” y/n parker? we think we’ve found your mother. “nearly didn’t open it because mom told me not to open the door unless it’s her, and she had a certain way of knocking.” y/n’s lips make a very faint smile as she says this. bruce smiles a little, too, seeing that y/n remembers a fond memory of her mother. but she still doesn’t look at him, for whatever reason.
“is she the reason you do this?” he asks quietly again. y/n looks up at him at once, her eyes fearful of how well he’s turned out to know her. she appreciates it. that he may not be able to understand her, but he knows her. he knows her so well, he knows her by heart. bruce’s thumb flicks over cheek, where tears previously poured down. new ones gather in her eyes, and during her silence, they fall and coat the skin of her cheeks again, pouring beneath and onto bruce’s finger as well.
she’s overwhelmed. his hand on her cheek reminds her so much of their shenanigans in his car that day. and the hand on the back of her head reminds her of all those times they kissed, and she’s thinking of the manor again, she’s thinking of all that time they spent together. it reminds her of the care and affection that he’s shown her. and she can’t turn away from it. she’s done hurting him. she wants him, too. every day and every night. perhaps, after all, the crime-fighting isn’t her drug. but bruceis.
y/n gives him a nod as well as a shrug in response, because she is the reason y/n does this, but not the whole reason. there’s so many more. so for now, she gives him this kind of answer, though she’s sure he got the confirmation from her falling tears. bruce breathes a deep breath in and nods at her, too, saying that he gets it. he understands. part of every hero is that they’re avenging someone in everything that they do. whether it’s their parents, one of their parents, another close relative, maybe a friend or a lover. someone important to them who they lost. “did you get what you wanted?” y/n asks in a whisper, hoping that she has somewhat explained herself to bruce.
he searches her eyes for a few moments, confused. is this everything that she wanted to say? is she telling him that there’s nothing more to say or do anymore, and that they’re done? he hopes not. “i just wanted you,” he tells her in an assuring manner, his thumb flicking over her lip again, “i still do. always will.” bruce makes a gentle shake of his head. “please don’t make me leave,” bruce pleads quietly, thinking that could be the worst-case scenario.
y/n shuts her eyes as more tears pour from them and shakes her head. “i don’t want to do that,” she says, still shaking her head. she’s stripped herself down completely in front of him now, no going back.
“then don’t,” bruce says and now rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed. he sighs deeply as he feels himself closer and closer to her.
“but it will be difficult,” she tells him, still trying to push him away against all her best interests, “i’m scared, bruce.” she admits and sobs in desperation again, nearly gasping and grasping at him to not leave. her hands don’t know where to go, don’t know what to do to make him stay. will her small arms be enough for a man his size? enough to keep him in place? first of all, she can’t believe he’s here. he cares enough that he showed up at her flat. bruce opens his eyes.
“i’m scared, too,” he tells her. he has never had these feelings before, and he’s never had a relationship before. he doesn’t exactly know how they work, or what he has to do. he could hurt her, he could get her hurt again, and worse, he could be too demanding, he could not change himself for her… it all scares him. but, “because i love you.” bruce admits, and it makes y/n’s eyes open wide in an instant. “and i’m scared of what that means.”
“you love me?” y/n repeats in a hushed whisper, afraid to say those words out loud for maybe she accidentally dreamed him saying them. but bruce nods, extinguishing those doubts of hers. “are you sure?” she asks.
the question makes bruce utter a quiet chuckle, his lips stretching so beautifully into a smile. y/n finally reaches a hand out to his face, and caresses his cheek in return, making him look back at her. “i’m sure,” bruce assures her, “more sure than i’ve ever been of anything else.” he states. “i love you.” bruce says again, his fingers caressing her skin. “you mean everything to me.” he confesses in a whisper.
now y/n really can’t keep the dam closed anymore. her tears fall without a halt, without filter, they pour from her eyes, across her cheeks, down to her neck, into her mouth, and quiet sobs of relief rupture her lungs and chest. they’re happy tears, relief tears, even though they seem the completely different kind. bruce watches her, confused, and his movements on her skin in those two places halts. but y/n scoops herself up together and looks at him again. “don’t worry,” she says, “i’m only crying because i…” she hiccups in her confession, “because i love you, too.” y/n says and makes a smile on her face for show. and so that bruce would know that it’s real, what she’s telling him.
bruce’s heart stops at that confession, breath catching in his throat. all this time there were hints towards it being true, but he never wanted to assume she did. and, as his low self-esteem and self-worth usually told him, he thought she didn’t love him like that back. she couldn’t. but here she is, proving all that paranoia wrong. so he doesn’t waste a second more and kisses her lips. he hasn’t done that in so long, in nearly two weeks (not that he’s counted, of course), and it’s such blissful release that he can’t contain his own tears anymore.
y/n kisses him back, and so their lips battle in the will to show each other how much love they have for them. both of them want to win, but the process, the journey, is so much better than the victory. lips exchanging heated, wet, tearful kisses while hands grapple fabric and skin, wanting to be closer, closer, closer, until there’s no space and they succumb to each other, their skin and bones melting together.
bruce’s hands bravely venture down to her hips, where he caresses and grips them, pushing moans out of y/n here and there with his actions. she tugs on his hair when that happens, and that makes him groan in return. but that counter against her back is very uncomfortable. “this is not the place,” y/n whispers to bruce against his lips, and it halts his movements. she takes his hands in her own and pulls him away, out of the kitchen, and towards her bedroom, down the hall.
he can’t keep his hands or lips off her even while they walk, he’s kissing her neck, backing her against the nearest walls from time to time, just wanting to stay there. he doesn’t care where they are, as long as he can have her, he’ll be happy, and he’ll make her see stars to the best of his abilities, anyway. he’s scared, of course, for her to see this side of him, thinking maybe he’ll not be competent enough, he won’t do good enough for her. but she’s about to prove him wrong.
she laughs at bruce’s impatience and manages to stumble him over to her bedroom at last. she loves him kissing her neck and showing her that kind of affections, of course, she lets him know by the moans and whimpers she makes, but she doesn’t want to have her first time with him in her hallway. having it in her bedroom is important to her, even though she doesn’t really know why.
once they’ve stumbled into her bed, bruce finds the zipper in her suit and zips it open as quickly as he can, though he does it very messily. y/n is smiling, tears still in her eyes, and kissing his lips all the while, as he peels the suit off her, and she kicks it off with her legs at the very end just so that bruce wouldn’t have to disconnect from her. he smiles at that, knowing her intentions, and pulls his own shirt off his form, too. y/n has seen him bare before, but now she feels she’s got the full privilege and right to admire his chest fully. her hands reach out to run across it, bruce on his knees now before her, between her legs. her fingers trace over his muscles and she marvels at how there are no serious scars on his chest, unlike his back.
he just watches her eyes, and then they look up at his. a mischievous smile tugs at her lips, and she bites into her lower one. bruce shakes his head at her, though a grin adores his lips, as well, and he leans down to her again, smothering her whole face with kisses. “i love you,” he proclaims to her again, “you drive me crazy.” he says and y/n chuckles at that confession. bruce plays with the straps of her bra, and he gives her a look. “can i take this off?” he asks her, wanting to make sure she’s ready. so far, this is the barest he’s seen her. and he just wants her to be comfortable. if it’s better for her, she can leave the bra on.
y/n nods at him in response, and reaches under herself to unclasp the bra. bruce wanted to do that, but she sends him a knowing wink, knowing in the sense that she knows he wouldn’t be able to take it off on his own without a struggle. so since they’re both in a rush, and are naturally impatient people, she does half the job for him. and so bruce just hooks his fingers under each strap and lifts her bra off along her arms, and throws it to the side, not exactly caring where it lands.
his breath gets caught in his throat again, this time at the sight of her. her hair, her naked chest, her arms barely, shyly knitted together above her stomach, her shy smile and the tears still glistening in her eyes. she’s an angel. “you’re beautiful,” bruce tells her, “baby.” he adds, remembering that she seemed to have some sort of reaction to that nickname before, and he could try it out now again. this time y/n utters a whimper at that pet-name, her teeth biting into her lower lip again, and her thighs move around a little. bruce grins slightly and positions himself right above her body again, his chin resting just below her breasts. “do you like it when i call you baby?” he asks her, and kneads one of her breasts in his hand.
y/n sighs out as her eyes drop closed, and she sighs, already squirming beneath him. “yes,” she answers, and bruce feels her thighs pressing closer around his body, “does things to me.” she admits, and then feels bruce’s lips on her breast, just kissing for now. but then he lays a wetter kiss on the skin there, and he sucks lightly, too, and y/n feels like just melting into her mattress. the moan she makes goes straight to bruce’s firmly growing length in his pants, making him feel even more impatient. he increases his grip on her other breast, and makes a trail of kisses up to her face again, all the while hearing her sweet moans and whimpers for him.
“was that okay?” bruce asks her quietly, worried about his performance again, and to his soothing, y/n replies with a nod.
“i know you’re nervous, but you don’t need to be,” she tells him as her lustful eyes look into his and she caresses his cheek with her hand again, “it’s my first time, too.” she assures, her smile suddenly looking a little broken, along with her tears it makes for a sad facial expression. but those few words mean a lot to bruce. she’s just as inexperienced as him, and it puts him at some sort of peace at least. and how she was able to tell he’s that way also hits a close spot in his heart. now they’ll be doing something together for the first time, both of them, and it is ever so special.
“you tell me if i hurt you, alright?” bruce requests. y/n’s eyes fill with more tears at how considerate and affectionate bruce is. she still can’t believe it, after all this time, and yet here is the proof, staring her right in the eyes, touching her the way she likes, making sure that everything’s fine. but she shakes her head at his question.
“you could never hurt me,” she says in a scrappy voice that showcases her choked-back tears and sobs, and bruce only hopes it’s for a positive reason she’s almost crying again for. y/n pulls his face down to hers and kisses his lips. hungrily, lustfully, intimately, closing her eyes. bruce does the same, his hands coming lower to hold her waist, “can you touch me?” y/n quietly asks him, looking into his eyes, “please.”
you could never hurt me echoes in bruce’s mind, and he recalls that incident in the car, to which she undoubtedly is referring to without really referring to (but he can read her mind, can’t he?), and he nods surely. “i was going to, anyway.” bruce says with a wink sent her way, and that makes y/n giggle. bruce runs his hand from her breast down to the dip between her thigh and stomach, and he rounds the flesh of her thigh in his hand. y/n sighs out against his smiling lips, her thighs restlessly rubbing against his sides, yearning for friction, for some real touch. not that this isn’t great, she’s just growing more and more desperate and turned on by the second, by everything bruce does, by every move he makes across her skin.
bruce toys with her thigh, with the feel of her skin in his hold—it’s heavenly—pushing her thigh forwards, gripping the junction under her knee, caressing her upper thigh with his large, splayed hand. y/n’s breath catches in her throat—she can’t believe how gentle he is with her. of course, she adores it, and wants nothing more or less than these cautious touches, because she knows he will get to it when he will. she guesses she just always expected his batman persona to come out during these intimate settings—she once speculated that he’s quite the ladies’ man, and probably is in his vigilante mood when he gets down to it. this, she might say, is a pleasant surprise.
although she’s never been with anyone before, y/n knows what she wants in a partner, and she knows what she likes. and so far, bruce has checked a few boxes already, slowly checking the rest on his way now. and that again arises tears in her eyes. how careful, affectionate and attentive he is to her, to her needs, her level and zone of comfort. she’s never known love like this before, and it’s breaking her down. perhaps because it’s all she’s dreamed of those times when she’s wished for a partner. someone exactly like bruce. who knew she’d find them in an alternate universe where her home city doesn’t even exist?
she bends under his hands so easily bruce might have mistaken a doll for her, the way she completely melts against him in whatever he’s planned to do. how she willingly lets him push her thigh forwards more, how she cranes her neck when he leans down to kiss along it, how she shivers, but then bucks into his hand once he finally cups her pulsating cunt through her underwear. it makes her body do a whole reset almost—her eyelids fluttering closed and her thighs rubbing closer together, nearly capturing bruce’s arm between them. bruce grins at that and lays a kiss on y/n’s lips again, though they barely respond as she’s in a blissful state.
he can feel her wet warmth that has stained her very fitting underwear, and it drives him even crazier, even sort-of hungrier after her. bruce strokes his fingers up that patch of wetness and reaches nearly the same ecstasy as she is in. he can feel every inch of her pressing together under that fabric, in that wetness. “fuck,” he curses under his breath, resting his head in the crook of her neck, putty against her incredible might, “this all because of me?” he asks, and can hear her breaths growing heavier. he feels her chest moving more frequently, and harder against his. he’s gained confidence again, sureness of himself, because of her reactions. she’s doing wonders to him.
y/n can only nod, and it’s all the confirmation bruce needs to slip his hands into her panties and touch her without any confines or otherwise constricting factors. the real thing. he doesn’t know precisely what to do, he’s not seen a proper tutorial that would work for y/n exactly, but he can tell he’s doing the right things. both the louder and quieter noises that come from her lips, very much positive ones, tell him he’s doing a great job. y/n can’t manage to form coherent words, anyway, because bruce, bruce, bruce has taken over her mind completely.
bruce cards his fingers through her silky folds, gathering her wetness and spreading it across this most intimate area of her body, and he does so in slightly circular motions. y/n’s hands caress his body, one of them deep in his dark hair, the other on his back, digging her nails into the thick, scarred skin there. was she any more conscious of herself and bruce, she’d worry about scratching the scars open. but she can’t think further than the man’s fingers, further than his fingers on her cunt, she’s completely consumed by him.
bruce watches her face as best he can in the midst of his own arousal, and he just adores the look of her. eyes shut, fluttering open here and there, eyebrows scrunching up, lips parting, and little beads of sweat beginning to coat the skin closest to her hairline. not to mention the tears at the corners of her eyes, and the ones falling and already fallen down the side of her face. he knows they’re not ones of sadness, not anymore.
but, wanting to see what he’s doing, bruce moves slowly down her body while his fingers are still treading soft circled touches on her folds. he kisses every inch of her skin in his way, making her body spasm very gently here and there. she’s so reactive to every move he makes on her, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. one of her hands pulls away from his back as he moves lower, no longer that much accessible to her, and the other starts to pull away from his head of hair.
when bruce is down exactly where he wants to be (a/n: that would be down bad for y/n), his face inches away from the most intimate part of her body, he looks up at her. her hands, not knowing where exactly to be or what to do, figure around the sheets, in her own hair. her chest heaves in desperation, in that insufferable yearning for ecstasy, for release. for him. “give me your hands,” bruce gently asks of her, extending his one free hand, for now, towards her. y/n does as she’s told, a little lost on what he’s planning, but moves her hands down towards bruce.
with his able one hand, the busy one still circling her lips, he holds both her wrists between his fingers and pulls them towards his hair, where he so adores them being. he knows she loves touching his hair, too, she wouldn’t do it otherwise. or does she know he likes it and only does it because of that? that’s a question for later. her fingers land in his hair, nearly at the roots now, caressing the scalp, and they fit so well, as if a magnet was pulling her hands towards his raven locks. bruce grins and gets to work.
“keep them there,” he tells her softly, the command in his words not sounding like a command at all, but rather like a gentle request, “wanna see you.” bruce fingers the elastic of her panties, playing with it for just a second or two before he begins pulling her underwear down with both his hands. y/n whines at the loss of his fingers from her cunt, but something tells her this isn’t the last of those touches. once her underwear is down her legs and off, bruce looks at the sight exposed to him. my… this glistening beauty all for him. he nearly feels his stomach grumble at the sight, he feels hunger for her, one that he’s never felt before.
he playfully, in his quest to explore her, runs his middle and index finger down between her folds again, and feels her writhing underneath. her warmth, her wetness, her beauty are unmatched. and they’re all for him to witness, to feel, to experience, to taste. can he do that? bruce’s eyes flick up to y/n, even though he knows damn well she’s not able to look him in the eye. “y/n,” he calls to her quietly, gently, and she stirs, with her eyes closed, on the sheets, “look at me.” bruce requests. and even in her haze, she’s able to finally open her eyes and look straight at him, though her orbs are consumed by a layer of lust. “can i taste you?” bruce asks.
that question makes y/n want to kick against the mattress like a spoiled child. but she keeps her composure, and only her chest ruptures and her thighs tremble in response. she tries to keep her eyes on bruce’s, but it’s so hard. her thighs rub closer together again, desperate, desperate, desperate. those must be the most enticing words she’s heard him say ever. and she gives him a nod. of course, who is she to say no to him? he’s made her feel closer to heaven than any meal or feeling before, she won’t deny him or herself this pleasure.
bruce just needs to devour every inch of her, needs to feel her against every inch of himself, and he has the blessing from her to do so. so he gets to work. at first he gently breathes onto her exposed cunt, which already makes her sigh out sharply, and then lays just a kiss on the same spot. it makes her utter an even more helpless whimper, her chest heaving more frequently for those few moments. oh, she’s so not ready for his blissful assault on her.
he returns his hand to her folds and runs the two fingers through them, teasing at her entrance for just a second or two. and his mouth moves lower, towards where his fingers are, his tongue stroking between her labia lips. y/n gasps, “bruce,” she moans out his name. bruce makes a hum in response, eyeing her with eyes that ask is this good? am i good? but, of course, with her eyes closed again, she doesn’t see them. if she would, she’d only give him a positive answer as this is quite literally the best she’s ever been made to feel in her entire life.
bruce would be a liar if he said this doesn’t bring him any pleasure, either. he’s keeping himself from moaning and grunting as much as he wants to only because he’s so focused on making her feel good. with every lap at her cunt that he makes, he yearns for more. she tastes sweet, like sugar water, like his favourite alcohol. she also tastes like his dreams, like all his hopes and plans, like everything he’s ever wished for. with every inch of her that he tastes, licks, kisses, laps at, he realises he could spend forever there, between her legs, just pleasuring her, making her come over and over again.
his fingers press onto her clit while his tongue drags across it, and it makes y/n arch her back off the sheets all while moaning his name in a high pitch, hurting her throat just a bit as it’s an unusually high note she’s reached. but as she moans his name, it comes out distorted and broken up. much like herself. “gonna put my fingers inside you, okay?” bruce asks y/n, out of breath, and looking up at her. she doesn’t see him, only hears him, and she nods.
“yes, please,” she responds with a plea, as well, only firming the erection beneath bruce’s trousers. so he circles his middle finger around her tight hole, which grows just a little bigger at the request, and, to take away any possible discomfort that she might feel at the penetrating intrusion, bruce pushes his middle finger inside her entrance with his tongue. now that makes her actually scream out, and she’s not afraid to hide it.
the noise rises goose-bumps across bruce’s skin, and he hums in appreciation against her, his lips flush against her cunt. pushing further into her, seeing how far she takes him, bruce admires every crevice, every structured inch of her inside that he can feel on his pad, against his thin skin. she’s so tight that her walls are swallowing his finger up, and it feels indescribable. he forgets himself for a moment, his lips just resting against her labia lips for now as he wonders about how it would feel with his length inside her. if this feels this great, then how will that feel? will she even be able to take him?
perhaps he needs to stretch her out, so he does his best. “gonna put another into you, baby,” bruce tells her as he sort-of gets back to earth and kisses the inside of her thigh now, trying to put some ease into her—although knowing that he’s doing the exact opposite of it with anything that he does—, “can you take another one?” bruce looks up to her again, but it’s, again, a lost cause.
but y/n hears him. “yes. yes, i think so,” she says in a whiney voice, her eyes squeezed shut, forehead and chest sweating, hands raking unevenly across bruce’s scalp—she’s a complete mess, “just do it.” i don’t care if i can’t take it. “i just need you, please.” she nearly cries at that last bit, being so close to that edge all afternoon, it seems, and bruce understands. she’s so desperate for him, and he’s sure it’s gonna kill him eventually. if not now, if not tonight, then soon.
so he pushes his index finger into her, moving it inside along the middle one, feeling her walls swallowing them both up now. bruce shudders, moaning at how incredible that feels, and licks against her clit again. he’s sure nothing can feel better than this. and y/n has that same thought. her mind is racing, as well as her heart, and her chest is heaving like it never has before, not even on the times she’s had the most intense fights. bruce’s fingers are long, she’s known that, having known how large his hands are over-all, but oh my… she never expected them to hit that deep, and on the first entrance. god, is she hallucinating? is this happening? it’s too real, too good, too incredible, to be true.
“oh, my god,” y/n squeaks out among her gasps for air. her body writhes under bruce, around his fingers, her hips are bucking rhythmically, almost as fast as to bother bruce in his incredibly important work. he lays his other hand on her lower stomach and presses down gently.
“stay still, sweetheart,” he asks of her. and even those few words, especially that pet-name, make her whine. but when he strokes her walls with his long, aiming-to-please fingers, it reaches her in such a way that makes her actually cry out, and hot tears prick her eyes once more. only this time, much heavier, much harder to resist. so she doesn’t. she lets them fall, and lets sobs torture her lungs and her whole torso with their intensity. the heels of her feet dig into her bedsheets and she tightens the hold of her hands on bruce’s hair. she can’t take this, she can barely take it.
and he makes her torture all the more intense, with his lips and tongue on her folds, intruding between them, and his fingers raking across her walls, pulling the very pads of them against her meaty surface, curling them when he gets to the deepest point in her that he can reach. she’s crying, tears streaming down her face, sobs hurting her throat, as she has never been made to feel this good, and she has never been made to feel loved like this. she has never had someone to love her, care for her, attend to her this way. she can’t fathom or take everything that she’s feeling right now, it’s driving her over the edge. “oh, my god… bruce,” she cries his name as the feeling gets way too over-whelming.
she feels like she could burst open, physically, any second now. she’s blind about what’s about to quite literally come over her, and she has no choice but to feel it, let it take control, let it do what it has to. bruce’s tongue tight on her clit, his fingers nearly scratching at her walls, she feels that terribly foreign feeling—she’d rather call it entity—fully wash over her. finally. and she realises it’s what she was waiting, pleading, begging, yearning for. this exact feeling.
her legs go numb, and she feels an over-whelming wave in the pit of her stomach, where she’s felt herself yearn for bruce, for ecstasy, many times before. now she understands. now she knows what it’s like, but she has barely time to think on it now. she can’t think at all, her arms even go limp in bruce’s hair, only having pulled at it quite hard at the very beginning of this other-wordly feeling. her eyes screwed shut, lips parted and mouth open as she cries, screams and begs, all calling to bruce.
he only makes his actions gentler on her once he realises what she’s going through, what her body’s experiencing. and his heart pulses in his chest as he watches her reach that heavenly pleasure point. his length throbs in his trousers at how she looks as she’s going through it. god, absolutely divine. unlike anything he’s ever seen before. her face when she laughs, smiles or is working on something—his wounds, for example—is breath-taking, of course. but this… bruce is sure nothing compares to this. and he can’t believe he’s rightful to see it with his own two mortal eyes.
when y/n’s screams and cries of his name die down a little in volume and intensity, and now nothing but pants are leaving her lips, bruce pulls slightly away from her. to his pleasant surprise, he finds the breath-taking sight of her dripping a white nectar from her entrance. he needs no explanation for what that is, in that sense he’s knowledgeable enough, and he grows even harder at the sight, if that’s even possible at this point. he’s so hard right now that it’s painful for him.
bruce spreads her thighs a little, as they pressed slightly closer together after she came, and caresses his thumb over her dripping entrance. she whimpers helplessly at that caress, feeling more sensitive than ever. bruce only glances at her fleetingly, his eyes trained on that come dripping out of her. fuck. this is just incomprehensible for him. it looks just like sugar cream, and he knows it tastes similar, too. he can’t resist. bruce leans closer again and licks some of it up, as much as he can get from only very slightly entering his tongue in her. and this time, her whimper is even more desperate, more pleading. almost to say i can’t anymore, because she feels so sensitive, as if it was an open wound.
and she does taste like sugar cream, sweeter than before. bruce moans like a man having his eternal hunger fed, and licks her come up just one more time for his own pleasure before he pulls away and gives her a break from his very euphoric assaults on her. bruce licks his lips clean, wanting to savour every bit of her that he gathered, and he looks down at her. god, she’s so beautiful, he can’t believe it. and she looks absolutely heavenly after an event like this. he could make her come over and over again, if it means he’d see her this true, this beautiful, every time. and he’s sure he would.
her hands have fallen by her sides, and she’s only now returning to complete consciousness. she blinks her eyes open and finds bruce staring down at her. there’s a smile on his face that almost makes her laugh. he just made her have the first and, she thinks, hardest orgasm of her life, and he’s looking down at her, smiling like a happy idiot. the most she can do is make a smile herself at him, a very gentle and faint one, and bruce’s smile only stretches bigger at that.
he leans down to her, one of his hands wrapping around her wrist, pushing it into the mattress beside her head. he kisses her lips, plump and warm, and he can feel that she’s reacting to everything a little slower now, truly blown away by him, and the feelings he makes her have. he feels proud and confident of himself, and he smiles into their kiss. his other hand rests at the curve of her waist, just above her hip, and y/n’s arms weakly wrap around bruce’s torso. for support, for something to hold onto.
“can i, uh…” bruce begins a question he’s too shy to finish in a whisper, his smiling lips dragging across the tear-wetted skin of y/n’s face as he does so, and y/n closes her eyes as her grin grows wider. more tears fall. she already knows what he wants to ask, but she’ll let him finish that sentence. if he can, of course. come on, baby, where’s your confidence? “can you—i mean, do you want to—”
but, again, y/n is an impatient person at heart. she nods her head without letting bruce finish, because the answer is yes, will always be yes, “yes,” she tells him, and because… “now, because i’m not sure i’ll be alive later,” she tells him honestly, which makes bruce laugh. and, in return, it makes her laugh, too, through her tears. her laughter’s interrupted by her soft sobs. his rare, miraculous laugh is infectious, even during such intimate moments. but perhaps it’s best for those kind of times, because it’s a way to break the tension and the pressure between them. he rests his forehead against hers and his eyes grow serious for a moment.
“are you sure about this?” he asks her in an even quieter whisper, suddenly realising how much this could (does) mean to her. and y/n looks into his in-love, half-lidded eyes.
“i am,” she assures him as she nods. one of her hands circle up to his neck, fingers curling around the nape, towards the roots of his hair, “i love you. and i want this,” y/n tells bruce, looking into his eyes for more signs of understanding. he’s nervous, she knows that, and so is she. but somehow—perhaps from the literally mind-blowing orgasm he’s already given her—perhaps with his presence, his comforting, loving presence, she feels a little less nervous about doing this. and about what this could mean between them. though nothing more than their love and desire for one another.
bruce gives her a nod then. okay, then, this is it. here it goes, he tells himself. “i love you, too,” he whispers to her in response, his eyelids fluttering again. not because he’d be lying, but because he’s nervous and shaky and over-whelmed, and feeling quite emotional. he wants to remind her to tell him if he hurts her, but since she surely told him that he could never hurt her, and she should believe it, he doesn’t. and so, with a nervous hand, y/n slips his trousers and boxers downwards, which gives bruce the freedom to free his embarrassingly—to him—large, stiff erection from its confines.
y/n gasps quietly at the look of him, at the size of him, and bruce immediately looks to her, his eyes nervously asking what’s wrong. “nothing,” she assures, “just… i hope you’ll fit.” she tells him with a gentle chuckle, and bruce grins out of relief, his dark locks falling onto her face as he hangs his head low. “you’re so big, bruce,” y/n praises to him in a whisper, and the compliment makes him shudder against her. how he hoped that would be the truth. not that y/n has anything to compare bruce to—for her completely inexperienced mind and sense of measurements, bruce is big. certainly bigger than she anticipated.
“shut up,” he tells her in an airy chuckle, which makes y/n chuckle. she knows what praise does to him. makes him feel weird, undeserving, awkward, on the spot. weird for a man of his size to doubt himself, but he does it nonetheless. always insecure, always feeling that he’s not enough. but he is. and he’d always be enough for y/n, no matter any of his measurements.
she caresses his chest with one of her hands and spreads her legs a little again, so that it’d be more comfortable for him. bruce adores the sight. “come on,” she whispers to him, pulling his face closer to hers by the back of his neck, and bruce gets the message, leaning his forehead against hers again as he watches himself, to not make a mistake, slowly push into her half-inch by half-inch, always attentively listening to every sound she makes to know if something’s wrong.
that hand of his holding her wrist against the bed sheets slips upwards to link her fingers with his own, and he feels her tightly pressing her fingers into his hand as soon as he does that. bruce feels her tense up beneath him, sees her eyes squeezing shut, as well as her mouth, and he hears a little whimper from her. he instantly worries. “do we need to stop?” he asks her in a whisper, looking at her face of discomfort. she almost seems to be holding her breath. “baby,” bruce calls to her.
y/n shakes her head, and as soon as she opens her eyes, bruce sees new tears in them. “no, no,” she tells him, “i’m okay.” she assures and looks up into bruce’s beautiful, concerned orbs. “remember what i told you,” y/n reminds him, and her hand slips from his neck to his cheek, a comforting gesture of convincing, “you could never hurt me.” she assures, and her voice breaks a little. her lip trembles, but she nods at bruce, muscles around her eyes also trembling, threatening for another session of crying. bruce isn’t sure of what to do, because he’s not sure that y/n’s crying is entirely for the best reasons. but she wouldn’t lie to him, would she? “it’s alright, bruce,” y/n tries to convince him more. she knows it’s painful for girls during their first time, always, “you’re not hurting me anymore.” she searches his eyes. “it passed.” she sniffles. “keep going.”
he’s convinced, he decides, because she really wouldn’t lie to him. he knows that. especially about how she’s feeling. she’s always honest about it, always truthful and raw to him. he grips that hand of hers more and pushes himself further inside her, to the very hilt, for now. and what he gets in return is most rewarding. not only her sensitive, clenching walls around him, and their warmth, but also a moan from y/n that he recognises to be one of pleasure. and bruce exhales deeply, resting his head in the crook of her neck as he tries to adjust to everything. because god, he’s so painfully hard, and he’s finally inside her, and it’s enough to make him come on the spot.
it comes as a surprise to y/n how little it hurt, because now she just feels the good side of this. god, this is the closest she’s been with him. closest they’ve been with each other, and the moment she’s had daydreams and night-time dreams about has finally come. and it’s so much better than she imagined, so much more fulfilling and connecting. speaking from her subjective point of view in this moment, she can say that she couldn’t imagine having her first time with anyone else. she loves bruce, and she’s thankful that he lets her be with him when he’s this exposed, this vulnerable, this naked in every sense of the word.
speaking of bruce, he’s nearly fainted above her. she brings her thumb across his cheek, and that motion makes him turn to look at her. at least he’s conscious, she thinks. “what is it?” bruce asks her, clearly oblivious to her gestures. she smiles wide, and tears pour from the corners of her eyes.
“nothing,” she says in the quietest of whispers, “just thought you’d died there for a moment.” she jokes, and bruce grins at her amused mood.
“think i did,” he says and gets above her body again, feeling confidence and strength returning to him, “you want to keep going?” bruce asks in the most affectionate of ways, and then moves his head so that his hair would flip out of his view. it’s bothering his vision, he can’t see her properly. y/n nods at his question and caresses his chest again. she looks straight into his eyes and bruce takes that as a sign to begin moving.
it’s painfully pleasuring for the both of them that movement of bruce pulling out in a slow stroke, y/n whimpers and the grip on bruce with both her hands tightens incredulously. bruce sees his length coated in y/n’s white come from beforehand, and that makes him groan.
“god, you drive me insane,” he tells y/n and then looks back at her, wanting to see only her face as he pushes back in. this time, contrasting to the very first time, her throat makes a deep, guttural moan, and the feeling of him pushing back inside her has her throwing her head back, “you feel perfect around me.” bruce praises her and y/n smiles in her blissed-out state. her arm returns to wrapping around his back, his thick, wide, muscular back, and she pulls him down enough to be able to whisper into his ear.
“you can go faster,” she says, tending to what her body requests, “please.” she adds, knowing that always does something to him. and quick enough, once bruce is comfortable with himself and how fast he’s moving, it’s nearly a race of how fast he can go. a race with himself. his body rhythmically moving above hers, his girth feeling every inch of pulsating, inviting walls clenching around him, y/n holds onto him with the hand on his back, gripping onto it out of how good he makes her feel, nearly digging her nails into his skin.
and the hand that is intertwined with bruce’s just next to her head. an affectionate connection between them, gentler than the speed and care with which bruce thrusts into y/n. sweat is collecting in thick beads on her forehead again, and on bruce’s, too. this is someexercise, he discovers, an exercise that can move an entire bed and make it squeak against the floor. their panted breaths on each other mix with the sounds of their skins meeting harshly together at their hips, where the most intimate of their connections is unravelling at a quick pace. somehow, at this moment, y/n thanks every twist and turn in her life that led her to this moment. she loves him more than she can fathom. and she sheds tears again, but really ones of the best kind this time.
“right there,” y/n whines as she feels bruce just reaching the sweetest spot inside her. the anticipation of him reaching it—because she knows he can—is like a fever in her body. bruce grapples the back of her thigh with his flat, large palm once again, and pushes her knee forwards, slightly to the side, so he could reach that spot she’s begging him to. and he does, “fuck, yes! right there, baby,” she cries out and pulls bruce’s face once again down to hers, where she harshly swallows up his lower lip.
his pet-name for her being used on him by her does quite a number on him, and he’s sure he’ll really come any next second. and because he aims to please her, the confirmation that he’s succeeded does another number on him and his close-approaching orgasm. bruce deepens their kiss, running his tongue along hers and on the inside of her lip, which makes y/n whine for him in an even higher pitch. “i won’t last much longer,” bruce tells her, his lips grazing hers faintly as he speaks in close proximity to her still. he’s afraid his confession will disrupt this event, afraid she’ll find it weird.
but she puts his worries at rest by saying, “me neither,” and giving bruce a grin. he shakes his head at that expression, wearing the smile of an idiot in love on his own lips, “give me your hand.” she requests, and bruce immediately obeys. to do that means losing his support system that helps him not crush her body with his, but he does his best to still lean above it, now closer to it than before, so close that her breasts are pressed against his chest, and he continues with his almost unnaturally fast rhythm of thrusts inside her.
once y/n has bruce’s hand at her disposal, she moves it towards her face with her free hand, that was just now around bruce’s back. now it’s holding his wrist—and bruce watches the whole thing—and moving his sweat and come coated fingers up to her mouth, where she lets the pad of his thumb meet with her lower lip at first, just gently running it from one
based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she’s from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson’s universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn’t trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues?? Thank you so much and have a great day!! ❤
author’s note: woohoooooooooo. have you guys seen moon knight??? I’m kinda only watching for steven, cause with the third episode the show lost its quality to me. but allthe episodes haven’t been released yet, so I’ll try and not to judge it as much until then. but! I do love steven. and it’s taking such a huge effort in me to not abandon this story and start writing for him. god, it’s so hard. but I love bruce. I should also finish visitation hours… and finally update your good will bcs st4 is coming out in more than a month but omg. I just can’t, I can’t tap into steve. christ. I hate my procrastination and not finishing stories. im sorry for it all. happy reading!
“so, y/n, what do you do? besides the vigilante night shifts.” alfred asks. ah, the usual question she was just waiting for. sat around the very table bruce said he and alfred have meals at usually in the beautiful hall, y/n feels welcome in the company of these two men. though she can’t escape the feeling that she’s having a very important, formal meal with them, and that this is a test of some sort.
the sun up right at its mid-day peak shines through the gothically-decorated windows of the hall, breaking through in yellow and orange rays, which tickle her skin and eyes. she scoots over to her left on the very fancy chair and clears her throat as she does so, not wanting to raise an alarm in either alfred or bruce. “i’m a barista,” she answers nonchalantly, a light smile on her face, “at, uh… saint jeremiah’s.”
alfred nods. suddenly y/n feels awkward about her workplace. she doesn’t know what bruce and alfred do as work that pays all their extremely expensive bills for living here, but it must be something that pays big time. they can’t just live in an urban mansion like this, make all these weapons, tools and vehicles, and suits for bruce and now her, too, without a well-paying job. and it’s hard to find those in america if you don’t get lucky.
but, as she found out from bruce, his father was a rich and well-known man here in gotham, and bruce inherited all the money and, she guesses, reputation from him. so perhaps it was just his luck to be this… wealthy. she can’t say she’s not a little envious of that. if her parents had been rich and she could have lived in a mansion like this, woah, her life would have been a lot easier. and she appreciates all that bruce has done for her so far, she sees now that he does it out of the good of his heart. he really cares for her.
but taking her background, her life, her family circumstances, she still feels weird about it. partly she feels like it’s all not serious enough, partly she feels that she doesn’t deserve it, and another part of her thinks bruce is doing too much, and perhaps he even wants something in return. but it doesn’t seem that way. after she told him the truth about how she’s wound up living in gotham, there’s no asking in his eyes anymore. there is curiosity, but not the kind egoistic and ill-meaning men have. best believe y/n knows that look well.
“ah, the one right by the courthouse, is it?” alfred asks, his voice full of genuineness, and y/n nods. “must be a pleasant crowd that comes there, then?”
“mostly yes,” y/n answers, “though, because this is gotham, mornings are much better than the evenings. not to say we’re all morning people, but there’s less of the dangerous types around in the early hours of the morning.” she explains. alfred nods again, and bruce feels like he’s entered the conversation once again. he’s been coming to and fro, slipping in and out of talking and listening. not that he does that on purpose, his thoughts are just racing all the time. and watching y/n converse with alfred is a sight he never knew he couldn’t get enough of. two of the most important people in his life, and it’s safe to say they’re getting on well. it makes his heart swell.
“there should be some security with the courthouse and everything, no?” bruce asks her, slightly worried.
y/n looks at him with her bright eyes, feeling his concern by the look on bruce’s face. “well, there is, but they’re mostly looking after the courthouse,” y/n tells him, “since there’s always demolishers and trouble-makers around, they’re pretty busy.” she sighs, her eyes now falling to her plate and the fork she keeps moving around it. “if i wanted the attention of the world on me, i’d just put my skills and abilities to use when those types come around, but since that’s the last thing i want, i don’t.” she admits.
alfred hums. “must be hard to keep that restraint,” he says and y/n nods along, “bruce tends to forget himself in that aspect, he especially did at the very beginning.” alfred looks to bruce, and he gives his godfather the look of annoyance and disbelief. y/n chuckles, but seriousness remains like a veil across her face.
“i can imagine,” y/n says and glances at bruce momentarily before continuing. she knows that alfred’s put him on the spot, sort-of, and he doesn’t enjoy being exposed like that. so she continues, “i used to have that when i first had my powers, it was in high school.” she feels comfortable enough sharing with alfred. she looks to the older man, finding the look in his eyes very comforting. “used to hate P.E. with all my body, and i still do. hated the entire concept of it, couldn’t do anything properly, hated myself for it, you know.” she leans with her back into the chair. bruce admires the look in her eyes while she talks. “but as soon as i got my powers, i could do anything. i suddenly had incredible reflexes, coordination, strength, speed, agility—everything,” she reminisces of that time, memories playing back in her eyes like a slideshow of pictures, “and suddenly i could get good grades in P.E., i could even excel and be top of the class, even go on competitions. but i couldn’t, couldn’t i? it would have been wrong.” y/n sighs and looks to her plate again. “so i stayed little ole, helpless, weak me. had to put on quite the performance for the last two and a half years of high school.” she sits up again.
bruce feels for her. it’s not like his skills in fighting came over night, it was alfred who taught him everything, but he knows what that’s like. he knows people probably assume two things—either they assume he is good with his fists and is sporting quite the figure underneath the suits he wears on those rare occasions out in public; or they assume that he’s just a weak man hiding behind his father’s power and money who couldn’t raise one fist to fight for injustice or himself. but he can’t exactly show those skills in combination with his public persona, can he? he and alfred would be exposed immediately once people connected the dots.
“i guess it’s different for you,” alfred says kindly, matter-of-factly, and y/n picks up immediately on how he means that. she nods, “high school’s a tough time, as i hear it.”
“you didn’t go?” y/n asks in wonder, thinking how that would be possible for a man of his character and knowledge. alfred chuckles.
“oh, i did,” he says, “just not a public high school.” he clarifies and sends y/n a wink. she chuckles at herself and bruce grins at that faintly.
“me and alfred went to the same one,” bruce butts into the conversation again, turning y/n’s attention to him. she raises her eyebrows in a tell-me-more manner, “blackheath high school in england.” oh? bruce keeps getting more and more interesting with each thing that he says. how interesting, y/n thinks.
“your father did, as well,” alfred adds, “that’s how our families got to know each other. me and your father were close as brothers then already,” he makes a smile at bruce. his godson nods at him, feeling a bit on the spot again, as he always does when his father is the topic of any conversation. even in light-hearted situations like this one. he always feels some sort of pressure or loom hanging over his head at the mention of him, “what about you, y/n? your father have any friends he still keeps close contact with?” alfred looks to the woman, but she looks away, her eyes widening for a few seconds as she thinks of the best way to handle this answer.
“oh, i wouldn’t know,” she says with a slight shake of her head. bruce’s ears prick up more at her words. she’s never talked about either of her parents before, and neither has he asked about them. the topic’s never really come up before, and now it has. her eyes have a glaze over them that bruce can’t exactly place, “never knew my father.” she shrugs.
alfred feels awkward. “my apologies. i didn’t mean to bring up anything you don’t want to talk about.” he tells her immediately. y/n shakes her head fiercer now, she doesn’t want the man to feel bad about his innocent question.
“it’s fine,” she assures him, “it’s not taboo or anything.” she clarifies. “a lot of kids have grown up without a father, and i’m just one of them. i only ever had my mother.” y/n sighs, and her posture changes again—bruce notices—she sinks into her chair as though to close off from the two men, from this conversation. it’s not exactly intentional. “up until a point, she was working a lot of… different jobs,” y/n continues, and bruce sees her eyes and face having a certain expression. he can’t place it, again. perhaps because it’s emotions he’s not had to encounter before, “to raise me, to pay rent. hasn’t always been easy.”
she’s not telling him everything, obviously, it is her intention, and he realises that. he respects it. but there’s something about her mother, something really integral that she’s not revealing to him yet. perhaps she never will, and perhaps it should stay like that. if it’s truly too troubling or painful for her, he won’t push it. but something—perhaps that sense he’s picked up from her—is telling him it’s important to the character.
and now he also realises why her attitude towards money is what it is. she feels awkward and imposing to accept his money, his kindness, his gifts to her. and no wonder. she did tell him “because of how i grew up, and some other things”, if he remembers correctly. that conversation happened just over an hour or two ago now. and their conversation last night, about the clothes and underwear, and even the ice cream. it’s hard for her to accept all of that for free. perhaps she feels undeserving of such kindness and gifts free of charge—bruce would disagree; in his eyes she deserves much more, what he’s given her already is the very least of what she deserves—perhaps something in her doesn’t let her enjoy things free of charge that come to her out of the good of someone’s heart.
to conclude, she’s just as fragile and embedded with sufferings and a tough life as he is. though he has always had the money to do whatever he wishes—that’s what makes them different. and perhaps bruce has had a better support system than y/n, but he doesn’t know that.
“she’s done quite the good job of raising you,” alfred tells y/n in an almost congratulatory tone of voice. she gives him a half-smile. the man didn’t really know what to say at first, because he’s never been in that kind of situation, so he does what he does best—offer her some comforting, encouraging words, “we’re not blind to those horrible things happening here, in gotham,” alfred says, “whatever we can, we do. but bruce is always busy with something else to look through and accept any real deals.” he points out.
bruce sighs. it’s true, what alfred says, and bruce wants to help the city and its very weaklings more every day. but his mind is always miles away. and he believes that batman does some, if not most, of that already. help those who cannot help themselves. y/n gives him a look, wondering what alfred means, wondering what reasons bruce has for that absence. “gotham doesn’t like to stand up to all the crime and injustice that goes on every day,” bruce finally says, and his voice has changed to that of his vigilante persona. y/n nearly sighs. it’s strange to see him in regular clothes, without the dark circles around his eyes, speaking in that voice, “i’ll get more involved, i promise, alfred.” he looks to his godfather, who nods.
“no need to justify yourself to me, dear boy,” alfred tells him, and y/n nearly melts. alfred’s fatherly affection to bruce comes out beautifully whenever it does. but it’s not alfred that bruce was justifying himself in front of, or for. it was y/n, who bruce’s eyes flick towards with meaning in them. y/n gives him a light smile and nod.
“maybe i can help,” y/n suggests half-seriously, “accept those deals instead of bruce and get things going.” she says, and shoots bruce a playful wink. he is amused, too, but not quite as much as she is. she’s sort of made him look a little incompetent in his role in wayne industries, but he doesn’t take it to heart.
alfred smiles wide, “you know, i like you enough to accept that,” he tells her, which gets them both laughing. bruce makes a grin in the midst of their laughter, “to the eyes of the public, you could be the visual for wayne enterprises, and bruce could take a long, long vacation.” alfred adds on.
“oh no, he’d be my assistant,” y/n corrects alfred and shoots bruce a wink again. he shakes his head, “my translator, business language to english.” she says and laughs again. alfred chuckles, and bruce eventually cracks up and utters a chuckle himself. he doesn’t know how seriously these two have taken y/n’s suggestion, but if it’s serious to the very brim, bruce wouldn’t know a better person besides y/n to take his place as the leader of wayne enterprises. only alfred, but he made it clear long ago that he has no desire or intention to be that public, be that important to the company. though he already is more important than bruce, with all the work he’s doing already.
after lunch, it’s safe to say y/n and alfred get along very well. just like bruce expected and wanted them to. while one of the kitchen boys was clearing the lunch table, alfred took y/n up to his study and the library—which bruce had already shown her, but that didn’t matter to either of them—and showed her around more. did a better job than bruce could have, because he’s not that informed with the placement of everything in the library, in the study, or in the vinyl collection.
the most beautiful moment of the day, perhaps, one of bruce’s favourite moments in his entire life is when alfred put on voices of spring waltz,op.410 by johann strauss, and asked y/n for a dance. bruce never knew she could dance—another topic that hadn’t come up in their countless conversations before—and he couldn’t stop watching them dance. how alfred kept playfully switching between the regular waltz and the vienna waltz, the faster one, every once in a while, keeping up with the rhythmic changes of the composed piece.
how she twirled, and how her hair swayed along with her. how she smiled and laughed at alfred and his movements and how he turned her here and there, sometimes unexpectedly. in contrast to the sadder conversation the three of them had held during lunch, about her parents and her childhood—quite a sobering conversation for bruce—she looked happier than ever. so contagiously happy that bruce could not keep away, and joined their waltz dancing. of course he knows that it’s a two-person dance, but with the men’s agile movements and y/n’s instincts and ability, they made a three-person waltz work. twirling and turning y/n here and there, making the dance steps side by side and in a circle instead of directly facing each other—it all worked and made the three of them laugh a lot.
bruce already reminisces of those beautiful moments now, hours later, as he lays with his head in y/n’s lap on their shared riddance bed, y/n reading a book in silence and bruce drawing or writing in his notebook. uncharacteristically so, y/n hasn’t said a word since they entered the room. well, apart from some necessary for companionship few words. but she hasn’t said anything about how the lunch was for her, what she thinks of alfred, how she feels—absolutely nothing about that matter. and it’s kind of worrying bruce.
what also worries him in her behaviour is how reluctant she is suddenly. no hands in bruce’s hair, neither of her hands are touching him at all. she hasn’t made a move to kiss him, hasn’t made a move to get closer to him. and it’s not only bruce’s touch-starved nature that raises worry about this in him. it’s also the aspect of how well he knows her in general. she likes to be touching him, more than he allows himself to touch her, regularly. bruce always feels awkward about initiating it, but maybe he should. perhaps that’s what she expects of him now, having gone into this weird behaviour of hers.
maybe she’s just too exhausted to socialise, even with him. even though she’s usually the sociable person out of the two of them. maybe, which bruce hopes to be untrue, she’s upset with him, or mad at him for some reason, for the time being, unknown to him. what could it be? he can’t recall anything that he said or did was wrong. and it’s so hard to read her. perhaps it’s because he’s gotten to know more of her, that the parts he still doesn’t know, are a complete mystery to him. it’s strange. bruce doesn’t exactly know what to do.
he doesn’t know that her brain and heart are nearly bubbling over the edge with all her thoughts and feelings. he can’t possibly feel or sense that, even with how well he knows her. but y/n’s been an active, rumbling volcano ever since that door of this room closed behind her and bruce. one question, one word put in the wrong place, could cause an entire eruption of that volcano. and neither of them need that. but she can’t help her rushing thoughts.
private high schools. a well-known philanthropist, surgeon father. a gothic mansion in the outskirts of gotham. more money than anyone else. tools, weapons, instruments, vehicles, devices for anything he might need. impenetrable suits that intimidate those without one. gifts without end. it’s an alien world to her. and she can’t quite place how she ended up here, inside it.
“are you… tired?” bruce interrupts their silence that grows more and more tense with each second. his voice in a guessing tone, as if he doesn’t know if that question is the exact right one to ask. bruce lays on her stomach with his chest now, looking up at her through her book, even though he can’t see her face. he’s sure he knows it well enough to know where her eyes are, though.
y/n doesn’t move her eyes off the book she’s reading as she answers, “a little.” she admits to him. short, colder than usual. something’s definitely off, and bruce’s heart falls to the pit of his stomach as he realises that. it’s definitely something to do with him. only what? and maybe asking her what exactly it is in him, or in anything he’s said or done that upsets her so much—because he’s willing to change; for her, if for anyone at all—will be worse than what he’s feeling between himself and her right now. how can he know without trying it out?
it’s killing him, this not knowing of what’s wrong, of what’s behind her stale mood. but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. he wants things to be better between them, and he can’t guess why they’ve grown so tense and unbearable now. he doesn’t know what to do. scared to take the first step, scared to leave things how they are because they might escalate, scared of the matter she’s upset about being unchangeable. he’s stuck.
bruce lays his cheek on her clothed chest now. “did i do something wrong?” he finally asks her, having gained enough courage and also having realised that she means more to him than having an argument, in the most fragile voice she’s ever heard him speak before. she can hear fear, anxiety and self-doubt in his voice, even in those very few words spoken.
y/n stares ahead in her book, taken aback by his question, and taken aback once again in how well he knows her already. he knows something’s up, and she appreciates that. but can she bring herself to tell him what’s up with her, and why she’s feeling the way she is? y/n sighs courtly, and keeps her book as a shield between her and bruce, realising that’s an easier way to talk to him about her feelings than if she would be looking right at him. why has she become so closed-off to him all of a sudden, though? she doesn’t know. “no,” she says with a gentle shake of his head, her voice quiet.
really? then why is she not talking to him at all? not telling him how she feels? “then what is it?” he asks her. bruce rests his chin on her stomach again, she feels its pointy character digging softly into her skin. she sighs. he’s relentless, and she knows that about him. perhaps this is the first time she really notices that because it’s expressed directly towards her. and he doesn’t ask these questions like he does when they’re both interrogating a criminal at night. this is different. because this issue is much more personal to him.
y/n closes her book and places it at her side, now greeted first and foremost with bruce’s anxious, caring face. not so far from her own, and she feels even closer to tears now. she hates feeling like this. bruce laying in her hold is bugging her, bothering her for the first time ever. his eyes on her are suddenly too much, and she doesn’t know why. everything was fine with him just a few hours ago. her attitude has changed so suddenly, it bothers her to no end. she doesn’t want to be upset, doesn’t feel entitled to be so, but she is. and perhaps, after all, she should be.
she tries to keep her tears at bay. she doesn’t need to cry now. “nothing that you can change,” she tells him in a shaky whisper, only meeting his eyes for a fleeting second. she turns away then, pulling her legs up and away from under his weight. but bruce places his palms on her thighs and stops her movements. she looks at him again, slightly frightened, “bruce.”
“tell me what’s wrong,” he tells her and hopes the words didn’t sound like a beg. his eyes are sure, they’re set on her as he is set on uncovering the secret behind her change in behaviour, “please. if there’s anything i can do or change, i w—”
y/n shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “there’s nothing you can do,” she says, slight fury in her voice, “already told you. even with… everything that you have, especially with it, you can’t change it.” she says. you can’t change, she thinks to herself. but even in her upset mood, she knows that would be said too much. she damns herself for even thinking those words and their meaning.
“then talk to me, please,” bruce doesn’t care anymore that he sounds like he’s begging, he doesn’t care how desperate his voice gets. this is important to him. she is important to him, “just talk to me.” his voice grows quiet, to the volume of a whisper, and he feels himself on the verge of tears suddenly. he gulps as he looks up at her still, just pleading for her to understand that he’s here to help, that he doesn’t mean her any harm.
y/n shakes her head, runs her hands over her face, all to keep herself from crying out, and just sighs. the tears are coming, but she won’t let them take over. she won’t. she can’t. “not now,” she tells him finally, her eyes looking away from his—anywhere, the ceiling, her hands, her book to the side—and he can hear her fragility in her voice. he feels for her, “tomorrow. i’m… too tired now.” she tells him finally.
bruce nods. he wants to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible, now would be the perfect time. but if she’s asking him for tomorrow morning, he will respect that, and he will wait. so he nods and lays a kiss on her hand out of pure affection. her eyes fill with tears suddenly at that gentle gesture, and her lip quivers as her emotions take over and want to unleash their full wrath on her. but she won’t let them. she mustn’t. bruce kisses her hand again, kisses all over it—her palms, her fingers, her knuckles—and it really brings y/n over the edge, her lip quivering further and further until tears spill out of her eyes, over her cheeks.
she loves him. it’s the first time she admits that to herself. she loves him, she knows she does. she doesn’t want to push him away, she doesn’t want to hurt him. she wants to be close to him as possible at all times, know him more and more, bare her entire self to him. and yet she can’t help but feel out of place. she can’t help but feel like a complete alien with him, in his world, in his home. so different from hers.
night begins to grow across gotham like a big, dark cape, the darkness creeping into every inch of bruce and y/n’s room—curtains, walls, the floor, the bed and its accessories—and so bruce turns off the bed-side lamp, puts the book on the nightstand, and crawls over y/n again. her form trembles as she makes quiet sobs in the dark now, hiding her face in her hands, and bruce doesn’t shush her now. he lets her let it all out, because he can tell she needs it.
he doesn’t intrude on her personal space anymore with questions or words at all. he just holds her, pulls the covers over them both, knowing that it’ll be too hot with both them underneath, but also knowing that when y/n cries, she tends to grow cold all over. the warmth will be good for her. he caresses her hair with his hand and just listens to her soft yet intense cries. on one hand, he hates to hear and see her cry—it breaks his heart. but then again, he can tell she needs that release. pent-up emotions, perhaps frustrations with herself and the world, need to be let out sometime. and so it’s soothing for him that she seemingly gets that relief now. at least he thinks she’s getting it. in reality, he doesn’t really know.
at some point in the darkness growing ever-present and unavoidable in the room, y/n cries fade to silence, and bruce discovers she’s fallen asleep. being tired himself, and being with her, bruce soon falls asleep, too, with her still in his arms. he’s glad about how peaceful she is in her sleep, even if the problem between them is unresolved, even if he doesn’t still yet know the reason she cried so hard, and why she cried at all.
y/n knows bruce is a heavy sleeper, and she adores it. she hates to be taking advantage of that now, in the night hours, when she slips out of his heavy hold and gets up from their bed. she bids herself not to cry any tears as she picks up her few stuff and wraps it up in a ball she can easily carry. she ignores the tears that fall as she opens and closes the bedroom door in the quietest way possible, and she hates causing that sharp pang in her heart that happens as the door quietly thuds closed behind her.
she doesn’t want to leave him, and least of all wants to hurt him with her leave. but this is so not her world. this is not her place. there’s too many differences between him and her. and she can’t bare it any longer.
based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she’s from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson’s universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn’t trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues?? Thank you so much and have a great day!! ❤
author’s note: hello. sorry for the delay. there’s been so much to do and so much going lately that i can hardly concentrate on anything at all, including, unfortunately, writing. so sorry! doing my best :))))) hehehehehhhehe. anywhos, new chapter! who’s excited? me asf. batman also comes out in HD next week, so i’m pretty excited about that, too. i saw it 3x in the theatres, and it was suchhhh an experience, truly a unique one. so happy reading my babies !
warnings: a little nsfw (fingers in mouth, fingering but not really?); nothing else
gif credit goes to owner / creator!
with her hand in his, bruce leads y/n away from the desk where her suits are laid out, and he leads her around the row of desks to reach the covered vehicle he so wants to show her. alfred’s only seen a glimpse of it while bruce was working on it, and he solicited the part orders, but he hasn’t seen more. bruce also hasn’t let him, he makes sure alfred is really busy while he continues to work on his new project, so he wouldn’t show up and surprise bruce. it’s sort of something bruce wants to show alfred when it’s done. to see what he thinks.
bruce takes his hand out of y/n’s hold—but doesn’t do so without laying a kiss on her palm first—and leaves her by the vehicle’s side while he goes to uncover it. the project is in its finishing stages for now, bruce has yet to take it on a test ride, he somehow hopes for a special occasion to do that, only he doesn’t know what that would count as.
he takes the silky black cover by its corner and whooshes it off the vehicle in one go, he thankfully succeeds. y/n’s eyes don’t know exactly what to look at. the object confuses her at first, she can’t tell what is what, but then she starts to recognise bumps and edges, and the image becomes clearer. it’s some kind of car, only… jacked up on steroids. it is black in its entirety, and sleek, and very much intimidating because of its size.
she looks to bruce with bright eyes and a kind of awkward smile, and he gives her one in return as he waits for a further reaction. but y/n doesn’t really know what to say, she turns her stare back to the sort-of car. huge wheels, a low front, and a spacious interior, it seems. she walks over to it, runs a hand across the sleek material on the front hood and nearly shudders. it’s cold, but incredible to the touch. she takes her hand away and tucks both her palms into the sleeves of her hoodie, feeling a little cold all over now.
she crosses her arms over her chest as she walks beside the car, looking at its details, coming up to bruce step by step. “did you make this yourself?” she asks once she’s finally close to him again. bruce looks from her to the car and nods. y/n shakes her head. “one hell of a job.”
bruce grins as his hand skims over the door handle nearest to him. “taken me more than a year,” he says, “can’t risk having someone else to do anything on it for me, because, well…” bruce looks into her eyes again, “you know.” he gently moves his eyebrows in an emphasising way. y/n chuckles and nods. “wanna show you the interior, as well,” bruce says and opens the door. the door only makes a faint click that sounds as sleek as the car looks, and y/n is again impressed. she doesn’t hide it—her raised eyebrows and slight grin of amusement—as she gets into the car, and bruce’s lips stretch into a grin of their own at her adorable reaction. as soon as he shuts her door, he makes his way around the car to get in on the other side.
y/n glimpses at bruce while he does, but her attention is honestly more occupied by the car’s interior. two screens on the middle console, where usually a radio would be. some switch panel next to the screens, where the small stashing cabinet resides in a usual car. but as she traces her hand under the switch panel, she feels a rectangular form in a different material than the rest of the panel, and she presses it so it opens.
nails, wires, screwdrivers and multiple other little things alike pour of out of the hide-away, and the clutter they make startles y/n just as bruce gets in the car from his side. he furrows his eyebrows at the mishap when he sits down, and y/n sighs. “sorry,” she says and starts picking everything up to put it back in place, “i’m just curious.” she comes up with some sort of excuse. bruce nods and helps her pick up the pieces, since the console of the car is pretty close to him, and there’s a lot of room for legs on both sides. y/n thanks him quietly, and he just gives her a timid smile.
once the things are back in their hide-away, and y/n closes the cabinet, she turns half-way in her seat to check out the rest of the car. also to make herself busy with something as she now feels a little awkward at having spilled all that, and in front of bruce. this is his car, his property, his working ground, and she’s too much of a curious cat to keep her hands to herself. what a clutz, she thinks.
she notices how spacious the interior still looks from the inside, but how there’s nothing in the backseat quite yet. only tools and other car pieces she assumes are still left to be attached, put in place. she looks above her, sees the ceiling with quite the big window in the middle of it. big enough to fit bruce through when he’s in the batman attire, she realises. she looks back at him, and bruce can see the dots connecting in her eyes. she knows what it’s for, and he doesn’t even have to tell her.
y/n sits fully in her seat again, rests her side against the back support and bends one of her legs to cross it over the other. her hands in her lap as she looks to bruce. he’s sitting in his driver’s seat like a regular person, but his head and shoulders are turned to face her. their eyes connect again. the pleasant, positive tension between them is palpable. one word could make it thicker or make it dissipate. it’s up to them, but they feel the tension, too. like electricity in the air of the car.
“any plans for the backseat?” y/n asks. bruce grips the edge of the chair with his hand gently and peers over it to look at the unfinished part of his vehicle. he shrugs.
“i honestly don’t know if i’ll need it,” he says to her and returns to sitting normally. she notices how casual he’s become with her, she’s not noticed it until now though he’s probably shown that bare truth and casual behaviour a day or two prior already. he’s stripped himself of the brooding, mysterious image in front of her completely now. she can only be thankful that he’s done that. she doesn’t want a masked vigilante with her, she just wants him. the vigilante thing is a part of him, but it’s not the main part. now y/n shrugs.
“you could have casualties that you need to take to the hospital or the police station,” she points out, “you never know what situation you might end up in.” she grins very lightly at him. bruce loves the little gestures from her, he finds them quite adorable. he nods.
“that’s true,” he says, “might just put three or four chairs in there for that. maybe some emergency box or something…” bruce says, and it makes y/n chuckle. he’s wonderful when he’s thoughtful. quite the contrast to his usual behaviour.
she reaches a hand over to his side of the car, where she lays it atop his palm that rests on the console between them. bruce looks at the hand, then looks at her. her eyes are unreadable, and yet mischievous as a fox’s. “or you might need to take me home,” she suggests timidly, in a quieter, smaller voice, “maybe some place else.” she bats her eyes at bruce as she leans her head onto the headrest, her hand staying on top of his. he blinks a few times and tilts his head at her. bruce wonders what she means, perhaps she’s saying something more to him than these few words.
“where do you want me to take you?” he asks, and realises his voice has dropped lower in volume. y/n faintly smiles at his question, at the possible obliviousness it encompasses. she caresses the skin of his hand with her thumb as she keeps giving him languid eyes. he has no idea what she means, doesn’t he?
she lets their eye contact last just a little longer and then moves in for what’s hers for the taking—bruce. she carefully slips her leg over the console, only wincing a slight bit when her injury very quietly protests at the movement. bruce notices that change in her facial expression, and his hand immediately reaches out for the part of her body closest to him—y/n’s thigh. it makes her think he finally realised what she meant with her words, but he really is still oblivious to her ministrations, and that reaching out to her is for support.
but she’s not in pain. not really, not anymore, as she now brings her other leg over the console, too, and splays them across bruce’s lap, one leg on each of his sides. bruce just watches her silently, that supporting hand still treading carefully across her thigh, having an instinct of what to do but not knowing if he should do what it tells him to.
y/n feels a little out of her own depth now, but she won’t shy away anymore. not this time. when she’s so close to him, and he’s letting her be. it’s a sacred moment, a sacred opportunity. she won’t let it pass. there’s complete silence in the car as y/n leans her torso down closer to bruce’s, the quiet background noise of the bats squealing and flapping their wings on the cave’s ceiling is practically inaudible now. bruce must have installed some kind of sound-blocking mechanism into the vehicle’s doors and windows, and perhaps he did that on purpose.
bruce looks up at her—what a strange position he’s found himself in, and y/n could say the same – she never thought she could get on top of him and actually be on top of him, looking down at him, taking that he’s so much taller than her—with eyes that are both fearful and ready, eyes wanting something so much yet being afraid of it all the same. he can’t stand his own contradictory behaviour. but he really is up for anything y/n might be offering.
that feeling of readiness only grows in size when y/n kisses his lips, pulling him closer with her palms on both his cheeks. without filter—not that he needs one around her—bruce moans at the immediate and sensual contact with her that he so appreciates. his hands instantly grab onto her, that first one staying on her thigh, now, encouraged, moving to the back of it and spreading his fingers across her covered skin there.
to make a man of his size, of his greatness and power, moan in such a yearning and intimate way has truly got to be one of y/n’s proudest moments. she wouldn’t call it pride exactly, but something towards it. and it being bruce, someone she admires and appreciates so much, someone so close to her, makes that little thing all the more special. her fingers all but press into his skin, nearly creating a stretch there, and she moves her other hand down to his hair, trudging into the silk forest of it.
god, she loves his hair. raking her nails across his scalp, she earns the most raw and guttural sounds from bruce. and that only proves that he loves her hands in his hair, as well. he adores them there. scratching and pressing at his skin in the best ways imaginable. the movements of her hand in his hair only makes his own hands grapple onto her tighter, and as the kisses they share grow hotter and more lustful with each second, their pent-up frustrations towards themselves and each other pouring out into them all the while, neither of them can contain the moans and whines—more from bruce than y/n—that all of this coaxes out of them. they let their natural sounds out without any control or shame.
bruce doesn’t know how to be, who to be, how to behave, when she’s like this in his arms, just as needy as he is. he has instincts, and yet he doesn’t know what to do with his hands—what feels good for her? should he kiss her neck? should he grab her ass like in all those videos? no. that’s an immediate no in answer to the last question that pops into his mind, and he doesn’t even know why he feels so sure that she wouldn’t like that. he just somehow knows, and so he doesn’t move a muscle further to even initiate that kind of contact.
y/n feels how partly clueless he is, she feels how rigid and nervous his hands are, although they are squeezing her skin in a delightful way. she smiles faintly to herself, bruce feels that gesture against his lips, and she rests her hand around one of his wrists, the one that wraps around her waist. bruce looks into her eyes, pulling away from her lips, feeling that perhaps he’s done something wrong. something to upset her, crossed a line. but there’s no sign for such a thing in her beautiful, clouded eyes. “do you want to touch me?” she asks in the lowest of whispers. one of her hands is still resting against bruce’s cheek, and dare he say, it’s distracting him very much. her eyes are, as well, and he barely hears her question at all.
with a bit of a mental struggle, bruce comes to and his eyes blink a couple times in an almost clueless manner as he does so. he suspects her thumb moving across his cheek, near his lips, is on purpose. unable to form words in response, and also feeling too shy to speak, bruce just nods his head. y/n finds it typical to his behaviour, and she doesn’t mind at all. it’s always endearing to her that she does the most talking and he just listens, agrees and grumbles a word here and there. she guesses it doesn’t really fade in intimate moments like this. and she wouldn’t wish it to.
“i want you to touch me, too,” she says, taking her hand off his, and slowly, as not to make a sound that could ruin the moment, she unzips the gorgeous trousers that he got for her, also partly revealing the underwear that he also got for her. bruce gulps as his gaze slips downwards to where her hand lingers, and the partly-revealing sight nearly drives him insane. his impulses are strong and hungry, but he keeps them down. he doesn’t want to cross any lines with her.
without any questions asked or words spoken—she knows his body language well enough to tell he’s not uncomfortable, just nervous—y/n takes bruce’s hand away from her waist, slowly brings it back around her body to the front and middle of it. all the while, she keeps that other hand of hers still on his cheek, caressing his coarse, experienced skin with her thumb as a way to soothe him, if he needs it. he’s as much inexperienced as she is, she can sort-of tell, and so she knows this is a first for him, too. she knows what she likes, though, so she knows how to guide him.
here and there, she feels his hold on the back of her thigh tighten, squeezing her skin, and she lets out a little whimper every time he does because it’s just the right squeeze on her muscles. it makes the sacred place between her legs hotter and even wetter every time, and she guesses that she’s just found something new that her body likes. and her whimpers are doing all the work on bruce, as well. he doesn’t know how long his self-control will last. even around her.
y/n’s fingers around his wrist, she guides his hand past the borders of her pants, where the pads of his fingers come into contact with her clothed cunt. she’s so sensitive that this mere first contact makes her shudder and utter a faint whimper, and her eyes drop closed. she nearly collapses onto bruce, but her body draws the line at her head only resting on his shoulder. because of this response from her, bruce feels confident enough. he’s made her smile, he’s made her laugh, he’s made her cry and he’s made her feel this euphoric—is there anything he can’t do now?
he doesn’t need her guidance by hand anymore, bruce feels confident with his instincts, and he can always ask her to check in, to see what she likes and doesn’t. pressing his middle and ring finger into her underwear, he feels a sticky wetness on the fabric that now coats his fingers, as well. he breathes a heavy breath against her neck, and his eyes drop closed, too, just for a moment. she’s heavenly. there are many ways he has imagined her already—still ashamed to admit that even to himself—but this outdoes them all. “fuck,” bruce manages to utter, being at quite the loss for words because of how incredible she feels. he can’t get over her. so he treads on fragile ground by dipping his fingers deeper into her underwear, so that he could really feel the expanse of her—even when clothed—really on his fingers.
and my god, is that even more incredible. he’s pressed his fingers right in between her labial lips, he can feel all her gentle edges and folds on his pads, and it almost sends him into over-drive. forget oral and penetrative sex, he could spend the rest of forever just tracing over every inch of her most intimate parts, over and over, much like she does with the scars on his back. only when he does this, he body is oh-so-responsive. shuddering in his hold, grinding on his thighs closer to him, uttering whimpers and moans into the skin of his neck, gripping his shoulders every once in a while. he loves it all. he could spend forever in it. this moment, this feeling, with her in his hold.
bruce is discovering her, the feel of her, the different spots and buttons he can push in her. much like she’s discovering how it feels to be touched like this by someone else. she’s never had that before, and though he swipes across her clothed folds and flicks his fingers quite the right way, she can still tell that he’s nervous about it all. which means he’s never done this before, either. not even this with a woman. she wonders how that is true, she wonders how that makes him feel. but she’s also kind of appreciative that she’s the first one to get him like this, to get him to do all this. she’s the first one he’s experiencing this with, too. it’s something so special for the both of them.
he’s not even fully touching her, and yet with how wet her underwear is, it’s nearly the real thing, and she’s slowly coming undone for him. no words uttered, only moans and whimpers from both of them, bruce reaches his free hand that was grappling her thigh just now—much to y/n’s dismay, though, she whimpers at the loss of that touch—, up to her face, and he cradles the side of it in his large, supportive palm. it makes her look at him, precisely his goal in making that movement, and she does so with hooded eyes, barely supporting herself up before him. bruce presses his fingers closer to where her entrance resides beneath that drenched fabric of her panties, and it sends her into a spiral.
y/n’s face nearly melts into an erotic expression, her eyes closing shut, eyebrows drawing together, cheeks blushing redder and her lips hanging open. her lips. her whole face is breath-taking when she’s experiencing pleasure, and it means the world to bruce that he can coax this wonderful feeling out of her, plant into her wonderful feelings and experiences, and he discovers that he loves seeing her like this. completely true, just and raw. just for him.
but his thoughts get caught in her lips, and suddenly he’s so fascinated by them. his thumb skims across her cheek, and progressively gets closer to her lips until the pad of his thumb has reached the corner of them. in his hue of fascination, bruce watches as he ventures his thumb down the soft pillow of her lower lip, and he glances up into her eyes to see how she takes that. her eyes aren’t the main tale-tell for her reaction, as much as her hips and hands are. but her eyes do overgrow with a thicker cloud of lust after they open again, while her hips experimentally roll down onto his, and her fingers dig deeper into bruce’s shoulders. it’s nearly painful for him, but he likes it nonetheless.
“open up,” he requests her quietly, feeling that she already wants to do it, but perhaps, as she’s got lost in the feeling of it all, she forgot to give her lips that command. y/n listens to him immediately, proving bruce’s theory about that forgetting, as if she just remembered how to give her body orders, and bruce slips his thumb inside. he feels her wetness increasing heavily at that contact, and he allows himself a grin, “that’s it, baby, you like that?” he asks her, now feeling more confident than usual, and all because of her.
y/n can only nod and make a mewl in response as her mouth welcomes bruce’s thumb inside it. her mewl resonates from her throat, bruce can feel its vibrations even on her tongue as he presses down onto it. his middle finger penetrates her entrance in the slightest of ways, but it immediately has her thighs trembling, and affecting the rest of her body in wonderful ways. her back arches, making her breasts press against bruce’s chest, and he suddenly realises he’s never felt her this close to himself. chest to chest. god, he adores her.
her silky tongue beneath his thumb, lips sucking around the base of it. her soft skin in both palms of his hands, her wetness coating his fingers like a nectar, her breaths and hair in his face, tickling the skin there, her eyes only looking at him when they’re open, looking hungrily and lustfully, her thighs on his, her breasts against his chest… she’s a vixen at his complete mercy. a complete dream, and he’s not even entirely sure she’s real. that’s how heavenly she is.
bruce can’t wait to get to know every inch of her. feel the expanse of her on his length, taste that sweet nectar dripping from her on his tongue, explore her body and find out what venture gets which sound and body movement out of her, see what makes her fall apart, how long each thing he wants to try out takes with her. he wants to know her to the very depths, until there’s nothing left to know, and he can do it all over again, make it as good as the first time.
y/n has no idea how bruce knows how to touch her, how to feel her up, how to rile her up more and more. only thing she can think of is his intuition, perhaps something he’s borrowed from his great detective skills. he can just read her so well, she almost thinks he knows her better than she knows herself. his fingers at her entrance are pushing in and out teasingly and yet fully enough so that he’s coaxing her towards that wonderful release. and how did he know that a finger in her mouth would do the wonders it does? perhaps he didn’t, and just wanted to try it out. to be fair, she’s ready for anything he wants to try with her. she’s had so many firsts with him already that each new one is just another wonderful addition to the list.
but y/n sobers up from this blissful feeling of bruce immediately when she hears metal gears turning and chains being pulled. she stills so suddenly in his arms that bruce worries again that he’s done something wrong. it’s a far away sound for now, but y/n can tell it’s getting closer—it sounds like someone is using the elevator she and bruce used just a while ago to get here. how she didn’t hear the elevator going up when it was being called, she doesn’t know. but she looks through the matted window of the car’s back to see the elevator. the tube is not full with that cabin yet.
“what’s wrong?” bruce asks, glancing towards where she is momentarily. y/n gathers herself, realises he’s retracted both of his hands from her intimate parts, and is now just resting his palms on her thighs. she runs a hand through her hair.
“someone’s coming,” she tells him in a rush and zips her trousers closed. bruce furrows his eyebrows, and realises he probably needs a tissue for his hands. there has to be one somewhere here… y/n moves off him in a flurry of movement, plopping back down into her passenger seat, while bruce looks around all his little boxes and compartments for just a single tissue. who could be coming here at this—?
bruce shakes his head as he finally finds a tissue in one of the rogue clean-up boxes he barely remembered to leave in this car. “must be alfred,” he says with a grunt of effort as he bends back up from the car’s floor and wipes his fingers clean, as much as he doesn’t want to. he looks at y/n in her seat, facing away from him. she hopes her hair doesn’t give too much away, “why did you move over there?” he asks, though at how sharply she turns her head to look at him, he kind of regrets doing so. his face grows small in anxiety.
“i don’t want your godfather to see me like…” she shakes her head before she can finish that sentence, and turns away from him again. her fingers card through her hair again and again, she feels so nervous, “i don’t know, i’m nervous.” she’s speaking much faster than usually. bruce grows concerned. “i’m nervous, i want to make a good impression and—” she sighs in frustration, and then turns to look at bruce again, “he doesn’t know, does he?”
his eyebrows furrow. “about what?”
“us!” y/n hisses back, almost as if they were in high school and talking about some big secret. “you know, that we’ve… you know!” she’s so puritanical in talking about their shared kisses and what they’ve attempted to do, it’s nearly comical. she was much more blunt just some ten or fifteen minutes ago. bruce gulps.
“no,” he shakily says, “i haven’t told him. should i have told him?” he’s panicked, too, maybe because of her panicky attitude, and can suddenly hear the elevator coming down the long shaft, too. y/n raises her eyebrows and shrugs.
“i don’t know!” she tells him, “do you want to tell him?”
now it’s bruce’s turn to shrug, “i don’t know,” he says honestly, “do you want me to tell him?” he makes sure, really only caring about her through and through.
“yes!” y/n says, but then feels she’s coming off as too straight forward. to bruce, about their relationship, whatever it is. what would he tell alfred, anyway? i’ve kissed the girl whose life i saved in our vigilante team work mishap a couple times, we nearly went to second base. “no?” y/n then throws out in her panic. she shakes her head again and thinks she’s both confusing the man next to her, and making him think she wants to keep this a secret, which she most certainly does not want to do. she throws her hands in the air for a fleeting moment, feeling confused herself. “i don’t know! christ… i’m a mess.” she says finally, her head in her hands.
the opening pull of the elevator doors somewhere behind them startles them both, as they’re in quite the fragile state, and y/n nearly jumps in her seat. bruce can feel her nervousness in the air around her, and he’s scared to reach out to her, though he still does it, worried he might catch that same electricity as is running through her veins. “you’re fine,” he tells her, and finds the gesture weird. has he comforted her before? and yes, he realises he has. how did he forget? perhaps this is just a different setting, “i’ll get out first.” he informs her. “and hey,” he calls on for more of her attention, “look at me.” bruce’s voice is a whisper again. y/n anxiously turns to look at him. he offers her a smile. “you’re great, y/n,” he says, and if it’s not the first time he says her name, then it’s definitely one of the first, “there’s no reason for alfred not to like you. i promise. plus, he already likes you.”
“how do you know?” she asks him. bruce shrugs.
“he’s my godfather,” he simply states, that smile of his turning into a grin. bruce moves a rogue hair strand out of y/n’s face, tucking it behind her ear. she appreciates the gesture, and makes a small smile herself, “you have nothing to worry about, i promise you.” bruce assures her. “i really like you,” christ, he feels nervous and shy as a teenager as he says this, and he wishes the hormones weren’t so strong. but he wants to tell her these things, even if it’s hard to and gets him all flustered, “and you’re amazing. it’ll be fine.” bruce finalises.
y/n manages to make a smile at him in response and she nods her head. she believes him. bruce feels weird at handling such a domestic, everyday-thing like he handles more serious issues. but perhaps domestic things are just as important as vigilante things. and perhaps he needs to put more focus on domestic things. now that y/n is formally meeting alfred, has seen his home and his cave, and is getting closer to him in general. as he’s getting closer to her. he needs to be in touch with his domestic side more, he realises. and so he makes that his resolution for the near future. perhaps this vigilante thing has made him less grounded than he thinks.
“okay,” y/n says as she nods again, and bruce’s smile grows in size. he caresses her hair and leans closer to her just momentarily to give her forehead a kiss. y/n closes her eyes during that fleeting affectionate gesture, and bruce is gone in the next moment. her eyes closed, still in some astral way feeling his lips on her forehead, she hears him get out of the vehicle and close the door behind him. she feels like a little hedgehog that’s drawing into its form in this quite spacious passenger car seat, the reminisce of his kiss on her forehead as vivid as if it had colours. the undertone of what that kiss meant is what truly sticks to her heart, and she’ll appreciate that forever.
she hears quiet words spoken between bruce and alfred, and even a chuckle on alfred’s part, and she sighs. y/n doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so anxious around the man she’s met twice, being in quite exposing states both times already. now she’s dressed, and feeling much more like herself, and it seems her characteristic nervousness returns with that trueness of self, too. she doesn’t like it. it’s not that big of an event to have lunch with alfred. then why does she feel so nervous all of a sudden? she feels like a teenager all over again. of course, the memory, feelings and images of her and bruce’s shenanigans just a few minutes ago are much too vivid in her mind to forget or ignore. she hopes the presence of alfred especially will do erasure.
y/n sighs again and opens the car door, swinging her legs over the seat to get out. it’s not that she wants to forget or ignore what they began to do. it’s just quite bothering and informal to be thinking about those things while she’s with both bruce and alfred. she really does feel like a teenager, and it’s bothering her quite a bit. she’s an adult, and should be first and foremost, be able to control those thoughts and impulses and second, should not be feeling nervous about having them if they’re there. it’s so complicated…
with a small, shy smile on her face, y/n keeps the hair strands tucked behind her ear by bruce in place and walks around the vehicle of incredible size. their conversation drops in volume and slightly fades as she comes up, and she feels awkward that they do. y/n braces herself and raises her head up once she’s in close enough vicinity of them both. bruce gives her adoring eyes, while alfred has the usual look of warmth across his whole face, but especially visible in his eyes. he gives y/n a smile.
“hello,” y/n says in a quiet voice, feeling awkward still, even with the soothing presence of both these men. they’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, yet she still feels out of place. could it be just their presence? could it be because y/n really likes bruce and wants to make a good impression on alfred? or could it be the financial difference between her and these two men? she can’t guess, and maybe it’s all three.
y/n fumbles with her fingers behind her back, so they wouldn’t see how nervous she is. but bruce sees her hands, nonetheless, he’s that taller than her to see even behind her. he feels for her, his eyes soften as he gives her a glance. “good day, miss y/n,” alfred tells her, nearly bowing before her in that formal movement he makes. she smiles back at him and nods, “finally i see you out and about! an occasion we should celebrate.” alfred says and looks to bruce for agreement, which he gives him with a smile and nod.
bruce wants so to reach out to y/n in this moment, just reassure her in a way that he can. a hand on her shoulder, on her waist, anywhere. but he fears that doing that in front of alfred will just heighten her nervousness, and he doesn’t want to put her on the spot like that. y/n nods at alfred’s words. “thank you,” she says, “never thought i’d get out of that bed, and i’m quite relieved now.” she admits with a chuckle.
“i hope you’re hungry, too, dear,” alfred says cheekily and sends her a wink, to which bruce playfully rolls his eyes and nudges alfred’s arm. the older man just chuckles more in response. y/n still feels out of place, even if out of her and bruce, she’s usually the comedic one. she seems to have suddenly lost that skill or characteristic of hers, and all out of nervousness. she also doesn’t want to admit she’s hungry, because she doesn’t want to be the one whose needs or wants need to be pleased right away. god, everything’s so weird, “you’re not nervous, are you, dear?” alfred suddenly asks, having noticed her silence. he even looks to bruce after y/n’s eyes change a little after that question.
bruce worries for her, since it’s half as hard for her to talk about her feelings as it is for him, and yet she’s always been the more open one. y/n’s lips part as she immediately wants to deny that assumption and lie about her current feelings. but she sees truth and genuineness in alfred’s eyes, and that convinces her to tell her own truth. she nods before saying, “yeah, a bit,” she admits, making a sad smile.
now bruce can’t stay away anymore, his urge to soothe her becomes much too great, and so he gently lays an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, his hand squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. either alfred doesn’t actually notice, or he pretends to not notice that movement and its meaning, so he just shakes his head. “no need to be nervous, dear,” he says, and y/n can say this is the first time a man over forty has called her dear multiple times and she hasn’t felt uncomfortable by it, “from what i hear from bruce, you’re practically family by now, and aren’t a guest anymore.” alfred tells her, and bruce only nods in agreement. that’s what he’d put it, too.
y/n smiles wide, and feels shy again, but she fights the urge to tuck herself into bruce’s side and hide away like a bashful child. she looks up at alfred and nods. “thank you so much,” she says, “that means a lot.”
“oh, you’re welcome,” alfred responds and turns on his heel, “now let’s get your bellies full before you both drop.” he says and begins clicking away towards the elevator with his cane. y/n looks up at bruce, and he looks down at her genuinely, adoringly, that same look still in his eyes. he adores her, and she adores him. there’s nothing quite like sensing that mutual feeling towards each other and knowing it’s true. truly one of the seven wonders of the world, she’s sure.
y/n leans up on her very tip-toes and lays a quiet, quick kiss on bruce’s cheek before they follow alfred across the cave to the elevator. bruce feels his cheeks heating up, and then he feels her hand on his chest, “thank you,” she quietly whispers to him as they begin walking. bruce’s lips stretch into a languid smile. he wants to smother her whole, and even more than that. yet it still wouldn’t be enough to express his adoration towards her.
Summary: A terrifying savior comes to your aide one night but it isn’t the last you see of each other
Warnings:18+ ONLY, mentions of violence, mugging/assault, mentions of stitches/needles, smut: primal kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, biting/scratching, slight restraint play, light oral (male receiving), light mentions of pain play, manhandling, use of pet names - “bunny”, intense sex
Word Count: 6.5k
Note:Hoping the direction I took with this doesn’t feel too rushed, it’s all about getting completely caught up in someone. This is also based around this headcanon I wrote! Enjoy and please reblog and comment!
Panic was familiar to you, especially in this city. Gotham took no prisoners and didn’t afford room for recklessness at any turn.
