#batman x f!reader smut

[hanasnx]

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

#indy: one shots #ch: bruce #batman one shot #batman smut #batman x reader #batman x f!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #batman x you smut #batman x reader smut #batman x f!reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman fanfiction #batman fic #batman imagine #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dc comics smut #dc comics x reader #dc comics x you

[visionsofmagic]

day 10: bruce wayne [car sex]

࿓ synopsis • bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.

―❦ nsfw, autonomous driving, one has clothes on one hasn’t, suited!bats, batmobile, markings, car riding, possessiveness, jeaolusy, pet names, swearing, master kink, rude!bats, identity dilemma, inner toughts, spanking, begging, brat taming, clothes full on/off, kissing, ‘is all I guess. • 1.9k • thought comic bats while writing but you can imagine this with any version of batman as you like of course. enjoy the beginning of the second week of kinktober event, hope you will like this week too! [kinktober m.]

“bats – please –“ as the gotham’s city’s night lights pass behind the black windows of the batmobile you’re in, your own voice gets silent by the loud sound of the road, yet, they reach to his ears that are covered with his black batman mask. “it’s too much –“ 

the man under you stays still even when his actions don’t stop – fingering your clit, he seems like he doesn’t care about how you’re sitting on his lap, soaking onto his black bat suit, getting wetter each passing time – having no dress on you makes the situation more sinful, especially when he has his own armored suit on, even the mask is still covering his face and ears – his bat ears is a source of balance for you to hold onto while taking his fingers as if it’s the first time he does this.

you have no idea how this man makes you feel stranger to being fucked by him whenever he has you like this – weak yet so powerful because of the whole situation.

it should’ve been a peaceful night, a simple mission – yet, it turned into something more, and you were the one to blame the moment you began to flirt with one of the guests to distract him. you were doing what he told you to from the other line of the call, giving instructions one by one with the help of the device on your ear. it was going all right until the man got interested in you, buying you drinks, joking around, and asking if you would like to follow him to do upstairs. 

you didn’t yet you had to act close to the man to get rid of him because bats told you to leave his side immediately. your mistake was taking that decision; putting one of your hands on the man’s shoulder, raising on your feet, and whispering something into his ear before leaving. apparently, this made bruce go mad – causing him to give you a lesson that you had to learn right away.

the moment you entered the batmobile, he took you onto his lap, taking all your clothes from one to another, looking darker than ever – hands fast, lips kissing yours so passionately that you believe your lips begin to bleed, the suit remains on as he begins to finger you – he just opens the zipper of his armored pants, leaving his hardened cock visible to your eyes.

wanting to touch him, your hand goes to his cock, yet, it is stopped in mid-air. he doesn’t waste any more seconds, slapping your clit, he adds, “you had to earn it. you will not get it until you beg for it.”

now here you are; already cum for one time, its hints still on your thighs and his pants, however, he doesn’t stop – you know he waits for you to beg – you try not to beg, stubborn, believing you did nothing wrong, but, it’s too much – he knows every point to make you beg – the vigilante know your own body more than you do.

when he hits your g-spot with only his gloved fingers, again and again, you cry out loud, “bruuuce – aggh – please -!” the words go out of your parted lips on their own as your hands grip his bat ears strongly, bouncing on his fingers when he doesn’t move them. the knowledge of making a mess out of you doesn’t reach into your brain, so, you continue fucking his fingers – his dark-colored eyes look up, a smirk position on his attractive masked face, mocking you. “please! I need youu – aggh!”

“pathetic,” he remarks, “bouncing on my fingers as if they’re my dick,” a chuckle breaks the lewd sounds – the outworld out of the batmobile is long forgotten. “want it so much? want me to bend you over, fuck you in this car?”

without thinking, you nod rapidly, eyes half-closed, your second cum drips onto his fingers, high hits the body, feeling a bit exhausted yet ready to take his thick cock now. 

your mind can’t comprehend what he’s doing but in a moment you find him lowering his seat, opening enough gap between your bodies and the batmobile’s front. 

afraid of falling into the surface, you try to hold his shoulders – still can’t believe you fucked yourself on his fingers and cum onto them when he talked dirty. the power – the effect he has on you is incredible! the mind is so dizzy because of him that you realize what he has done after a moment, your widening eyes look at the front mirrors of the car, seeing the road in front of you – the scene changes faster than you think – you swear the car moves like a lightning. 

the reality hits your face similar to the feeling of cold water washing your body over on a hot day. however, you can’t focus on it when bruce’s gloved and wet hands position on your waist, highering your ass up, pulling your body closer to his face.

when you hold onto the wheel to stay still, excitement and shock blurring the last cramps of your mind, fear of going in an extremely fast batmobile makes your blood boil – yet the trust you have for bruce is there, strongly holding you. his low voice reaches your ears after a while, and his hot breaths wash your pussy and ass holes that clench around nothing, making you jump in pure pleasure. “you disappointed me,” he says, “you disobeyed a direct order from me. that man meant nothin’ to me but disobeying – oh – what a bad choice y/n.”

you couldn’t wait any longer, knowing his one step away from licking you, lust takes control of you, and you begin to say how sorry you’re – how you didn’t mean to – both you and bruce know you did mean to, to get his attention, to get this side of him, because you’re a brat of him who he will tame.

“keep your begs for forgiveness for later. you have to prove to me that you’re capable of obeying me, you pretty brat.”

“anything, I will do anything for you bru -!” a slap to the ass, a slap to the pussy – scream escapes from your lips. “bats! just give me an order, will do it – just please – please fuck me already!”

“in that case,” he says, not licking you, making you pout in disappointment but when he lowers down your body, his cock’s tip meets with your aching pussy’s folds, he clicks a button, the engine slows down a little bit, the wheel of the car gets closer to you. “hold the wheel.”

you try to understand what’s going on, “what are you doin – aggh!”

his left-hand grips your neck, holding it tightly, closing the gap between your face and his, he points to the wheel that stands right in front of you. “hold the fucking wheel if you want to be fucked, y/n.”

swearing lowly, your shaking hand finds the wheel, holding it strongly, waiting for bruce to push a button – when he does, the engine starts moving faster than before. unlike the previous situation, this time, it’s you who drives the batmobile.

“bruce – how – “ your words are cut off by his deep voice.

“don’t take your eyes off the road. you will take us to the home without an accident. if you turn even a little bit, I will stop fucking you my love.” the difference in his words and voice make you go crazy, and that craziness doubles up when he lowers your body down enough to make him thrust his thick cock into your pussy, filling you up.

screaming with sudden pain and pleasure, your eyes roll over for a second before looking right at the road in front of you – gotham city still stays under the darkness of the night, the only voice that world excepts is the powerful sound of the batmobile riding on the endless looking road, the moans coming from you and swears from bats mixing with the flesh hitting the flesh can be heard by only you and bruce – the sin you commit cannot be known by another.

the focus you put on the road gets distracted whenever bruce shoves his dick into your wet clit. back of your thighs hitting his clothed thighs sends pain through your body, leaving red marks on your flesh – the balls that meet with your ass cheeks increase the sensitivity you have, making you cry as you clean them rapidly to see the road.

his name comes out of you over and over again, the brain is too occupied to drive, the mind is too crazy to function, and the body is too full of him, the man who wants to devour you, and doing it right now – using your body as he pleases, not moving his hips greatly, instead, he makes use of your body by lifting it up, then, pulling it down until his dick fills your walls deeper, harder and rougher.

“fucking brat,” he says, a poison that his voice holds captures you – you feel so pathetic as if you’re his fucktoy now. then why do you feel so high like the most powerful drug in the whole world gets into your veins with the maximum level, you ask yourself, then the answer travels to your mind after he adds, “can’t obey her master? what a pretty yet mindless girl you are, don’t you think?” oh, right, he’s the most powerful drug on the whole world, and now, you’re at his mercy.

“u-huh – agghh – oh myy – bats! please, please, please –“ you have no idea what you’re pleasing for, but he knows – he chuckles lowly, having fuck great entertainment thanks to you that you feel a kind of pride in an instant.

“u-huh?” he mocks, fucks you still, close to the edge, just waiting for the right moment. “too cockdumbed to even understand what I’m saying. but you do good my good girl, keep going, we’re close to the cave.”

the new information makes you happy, smiling widely, and looking outside clearly, seeing the cave’s entering. with the relief, you begin to drive the car more carefully than before, hands getting stronger, losing yourself in the pleasure of being fucked by bruce in his damn batmobile.

finally reaching your destination, you slow down the engine, the cave’s front door opens, and pushing a button, bruce hugs you from behind, making you sit down on his cock with an instantaneous speed, earning the loudest moan out of you.

the mouth standing beside your ear says, “cum. cum on my cock.” and you who doesn’t know she’s waiting for him to allow her – to order, do what he tells, cum on his cock as his hot semen hit the deep inside of you in sync.

kissing your shoulder, he holds your shaking body because of both the coldness of the cave you have entered and the opposite sense of warmness that bruce gives – the smell of highness on the air, chests getting up and down, breaths rapid and low, lust ends – its place gets completed with the affection of love.

“did so good,” the car’s door opens, bruce takes your body in bridal style after wrapping it with his cape. his gentle lips put kisses on your face as he walks into the bathroom of his room, watching your soft features, eyes closed to sleep. he smiles fondly, proud of you. “let me take care of my pretty girl now.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *lots of kisses!*

#🔥 kinktober 2023 second week #kinktober 2023 #dc #dc comics #dc x reader #dc smut #bruce wayne #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #batman smut #robert pattinson!batman #comic!batman #bruce wayne x f!reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x you #batman x y/n #batman x f!reader #LET THE SECOND WEEK OF KINTIBER 2023 BEGIN! #hope you liked1 muuuah

[eupheme]

— In Bloom

Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader

Rated E - 7.3k

Tags: sex pollen, dub-con because of sex pollen, pure pwp, mutual longing/pining/crushes, manipulation, touching, aphrodisiacs, spitting, mild oral fixation, fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, begging, PiV, cum eating, cum play

A/N: had a thought about polite and proper Alfred losing his filter, and wanted to see where it could go

When Alfred finds himself under the effect of a strange pollen at the hands of Poison Ivy, Bruce realizes your thinly-veiled crush might just be the balm that is needed.

A knock on your door in the middle of the night is never a good thing.

Especially when the one who is doing the knocking is none other than your employer - Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne, who likes to sneak down to Applied Sciences steal your prototypes.

Bruce Wayne, who you’ve found like to dress up like a vigilante - using said prototypes.

Bruce Wayne, who has a butler that you have a massive, massive crush on.

You’re scrubbing a palm across your eyes as you stumble towards the door, where he’s still knocking. It has to be him - no one else would stop by unannounced so late like this.

“I’m coming,” You call through the door, as you work open the deadbolt - cracking the door open. “What are you doing here?”

“Speeding up a timeline.” Bruce says cryptically - pushing his way inside as soon as it’s wide enough.

A mark carved between his eyebrows, as he paces. Shadows under his eyes, the remnants of grease enhancing them.

“What do you mean?” Your back presses against the door, worry starting to flood through you.

A sigh, then. A hand, raking through his hair - pushing the dark strands back from his forehead.

“It’s… Alfred.”

You’re wide awake now, on high alert.

“What wrong with him?”

“There’s…” There’s the huff of a strained laugh, disbelieving, “Been a situation. I think you’re the only one that can help him.”

Your stomach feels like it’s dropped down your ankles. Confused by his appearance, his words, his laugh.

Feeling so out of place in your own home, struggling to understand in a way that feels so different than when he’s three steps ahead on a project.

“He needs someone to take care of him.” He says it delicately, with a matching grimace, “We don’t have much time.”

You’d do anything to help. But still unsure of what he means, exactly.

“Why me?”

Bruce sighs - frustrated, that you haven’t caught up. The brief eye contact breaking as his hands shove into his heavy, black jacket.

“I know he’s been seeing you.” He states, “Will you come, or not?”

It had your heart freezing in its place. A soft ringing in your ears as you stare at him.

Because he’s not exactly wrong.

You been spending time together. Tinkering on fixes for Bruce - his extra set of hands and extensive knowledge more than useful.

And you think… that there is something.

Something there in the quiet way that time passes during the night. Brushing fingers and shared music and quiet murmuring.

The low timber of Alfred’s voice - murmuring praise when you work through an issue together.

That’s good. Smart girl.

A look that passes between you, when you see him off from the lab. The way he lingers, the way you can’t help but lean in.

The way you’re almost certain he’d been thinking about kissing you, just the day before.

But you never dreamed that anyone else would know.

Your words sound muted, as you ignore his question to ask your own, “How do you know that?”

“When I send him out to see you, he comes home whistling.”

Your cheeks feel like they’re burning, “So?”

“It means he’s happy. He hasn’t been in a long time.” Bruce sighs, his foot tapping, “And I’d like to keep him that way and not dead, or worse. So I’ll ask you again - will you come?”

“Wait.” You squeak, “Dead?”

A shoulder lifts, and then drops.

He tells you what happened.

The signal in the sky, his rush to the lab downtown only to find Poison Ivy already clearing it out. Dealing with her - only for Alfred to find a single, ruby-red petal in the car, when he had arrived back at the Tower. Unsticking from a cape where it had been carefully placed, a trap meant for Bruce.

One that had dissolved into a fine powder the second he picked it up. Coating his fingers and inhaled as he had coughed.

Flooding through his system, as he has swayed - Bruce guiding him up to his room to rest. To plan.

“I’m still figuring it out. I was able to save some of the powder to process.” He tells you, “So far, it’s been identified as an aphrodisiac.“

An aphrodisiac. The word rattles around in your brain, nudging at memories of a biology class - a heat rising to your cheeks.

“When I left, his heart rate was high. A rising fever, and he mentioned pain.” He rattles them off, pulling up an app on his phone, showing the readouts, “I don’t want to sedate him unless I have to.”

You can see it on the screen - the too-high heartbeat. The body temperature that ticks up a fraction of a degree, right in front of you.

There’s an uncomfortable pause, before he adds, “If it’s a biological effect, then I thought it could be eased. Naturally.”

So that is what he had meant, when he said taking care of. How it has to be you.

Bruce’s grimace tells you that you’re in the right track, as he watches you process.

“Okay.” Worry and something else - something warm and syrupy - swirl together in your chest.

“I’ll… I’ll help him.”

Your knuckles rap against the tall, heavy door. A thin silver disk shoved into the pocket of your sleep shorts - as you try not to think about it.

A fail safe, just in case. Press it if something goes wrong, and Bruce will come.

No answer comes, and your fingers curl around the handle. Unlocked, as they slowly twist, as you nudge open the door.

You’re not expecting Alfred to look furious, when you slip through the doorway. Shutting the door behind you firmly, resisting the urge to lock it.

There’s a strained look about him, clenched teeth and a pinched brow. Still a picture of elegance, even now. His hair still damp from a cleansing shower, neatly combed back.

Still slipping into dark trousers and a crisp white shirt afterwards - the buttons loosened at his throat, exposing skin.

A low curse hissed though his teeth - one that you’ve only hear him use the time you’d sliced your finger open while working together.

“It’s okay,” You’re telling him, placatingly. Moving towards him, where he’s sprung up from the bed.

A better idea of what you might need to do - the thought like a flame in your chest, creeping up to your ears. Too late to turn back, now that you know how dire the situation was.

Not that you wanted to.

Not that you would.

“I want you to turn around, and go back through that door.” Alfred all but growls - stepping further away from you.

Back against the side table, then over to the desk, tucked against the wall. A rattle of metal and wood, as he grasps at the edge.

“I’m here to help you.” You frown, still moving closer.

He’s started to eye the open doorway to the left - leading to the en-suite. Wordlessly you shift in front of it to block him, as something flickers across his flushed face.

Before his eyes close - his jaw ticks.

“You’re here because Bruce asked you to be.” He manages, “I’m not going to let you make a mistake.”

That has you halting, your hands moving to brace against your hips.

“He wants to help you.”

Alfred’s head shakes minutely.

“He’s trying to solve a problem. He’s pragmatic, and he’s compromised by emotion,” The words are labored, and from the closer distance you can see the shine of those bright, blue eyes. Can smell him, even - clean linen and cologne barely masking the scent of him.

“He doesn’t care about using you.” He insists, “But I won’t let that happen. Not even if…”

Alfred trembles, his hand tightening against the chair that he’s backed himself against, “Even if I wish for it. Desperately.”

The words linger like his scent, wrapping around you. Bruce’s comment making more sense, as something seems to bloom in your own chest at his admission.

Speeding up a timeline.

That maybe, you were right. About that something that sparks between the two of you.

The way he leaned last time - how your face had tipped up. Wishing and hoping, before the shrill rhythm of the ringtone had him stepping back.

Retreating.

“Is it the pollen, that has you saying that?”

You need to know.

The frown softens, as he sighs.

“It weaponizes desire. It pushes those feelings up to the surface, and renders you incapable of any other thought.” He tells you.

“But, they are mine.”

The tension in the room is palpable. The heave of his chest as he find himself unable to push himself further away.

As you step closer, and then closer. Your own heart in your throat and desire sparking to life and curling in your belly.

Trying desperately not to look down, to there the fabric pulls tight on his trousers. The hand that unconsciously cups himself, to ease some of that ache.

“Let me help you.” You beg.

He makes a low sound in his throat. The smallest shake of his head.

Still resisting, still so put-together. Utterly convinced that he’s cornered you into something you will regret.

Your tongue wets your lips and his eyes drop greedily. Longingly.

“Bruce said…” You begin, trying to explain, “He said it would hurt, if you couldn’t. That you might…”

You skip the words. Swallowing them down with a shake of your head, “I won’t let that happen.”

His chin juts forward, “If that’s what I must do to protect you-”

That has your teeth clenching as you move closer. Stopping just in front of him, as his fingers grasp at the chair, knuckles going white. All those years of self-control still clinging to him, even as his eyes widen.

“I thought I was your smart girl?” You ask him, watching how he shudders at that. Panic starting to flutter at his words, what he seems to be willing to do.

How his eyes seem to darken then, lips parting as he inhales.

“You are.” He rasps.

Slowly, you reach out towards him. How he stiffens, as your hands hover - just for a second, before cupping his jaw. The bristles of his beard tickling against your palm as he leans into your touch, his eyes closing.

“Then trust me.” You coax. His look is sharp when they open, “I wanted you to kiss me. I want you. I always have. I know this isn’t what I imagined, but you can’t leave me-”

He can’t. Not Alfred.

Alfred, who comes by just to check on you. Who makes sure you remember to eat. Who smiles, when he sees you. That soft voice humming along to the music you pick, as those hours pass. Exchanging quiet confessions at night, that no one else knows.

Who you look forward to seeing, more than anyone else.

Who you are so certain you were in love with, if the prospect wasn’t so goddamn terrifying.

You’re still pleading, as he lets go.

Leaning into the desire like he leant into your touch. Halting your words as his head tilts, his nose skimming against your cheek before his mouth is pressing hungrily against yours.

Your hand drops from his jaw to press against his neck. His heart thudding against your palm as it wraps around, fingers brushing the shorn-short hair.

The kiss soft for only a second, before it turns searing. An arm curling around your side, the hand pressed between your shoulder blades. He groans into your mouth before he’s tracing the seam of your lips, as his other hand grasps at your hip.

Drawing you in, as your own moan buzzes in your throat. Parting eagerly for him, as his tongue strokes yours, then licks into your mouth. It’s easy then, to spin you around.

Your shoulders knocking against that high-backed chair, as he steps into you. His body melding to yours, as he helplessly grinds himself against you. Rocking the hard curve where he strains - rutting himself against your hip, the kiss breaking so he can inhale a sharp breath.

“My smart girl.” He groans, his voice like gravel. Fingers pinching, as his cheek presses against yours, “Figuring out how to fix me.”

“I will,” You promise. Breathless, as your heart hammers in your chest, thudding between your thighs, “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

His grip tightens, hips jerking forward and grinding into the curve where your hip meets thigh, “I know, darling. Know you will-”

“Let me take you to bed,” You coax, shoved between him and the back of the chair. “Come on, baby.”

You don’t know where that soft name comes from. Pushed out from your heart, affection melding with worry and desire. But he shivers when you say it - needing the tenderness, the gentle direction.

Not used to either. Helpless, against it.

Reluctantly stepping back as your reach for his hand. Large and warm in yours as you cross that short distance. A nudge to his shoulders has his back pressing against the mattress - scooting up to headboard as you follow.

Stern eyes softened and fixed on yours, pupils blown wide with the pollen. Half-pushed up on elbows, the unbuttoned shirt pulling open at his chest, watching as you kneel next to him. Shrugging off your jacket - draping it over the divan at the foot of the bed.

As his hands find you, like before. Catching you before you’re settled - gasping with surprise as they slide under a knee and around your waist and hoisting you onto his lap.

The part of your thighs framing where he’s aching, a rumbling groan as your weight settles on him. As your hands splay across his chest, knees pressing into the mattress.

His eyes dragging over you then, as if you were something precious. A priceless piece of art.

As if you were dressed in something other than your pajamas- an oversized Wayne Enterprises t-shirt, patterned sleep shorts.

Not wasting time to change, as you followed Bruce down to his car. Grabbing your jacket, and not much else.

His fingers reach out, skimming from knee to thigh. A finger toying with the hem of your shorts, tracing against your skin.

“You look beautiful,” He tells you, voice strained as his other palm presses flat against his abdomen. Teeth gritting as he suppressed a groan - a red-hot cramp in his guts.

He’d endure it, if he had to. It would be nothing, compared to what he’s had to before.

But that was before you had arrived, before things had turned so complicated and so crystal clear, all at once.

Your face twists with worry, a hand covering his and squeezing. The other hovering where his splay wide to press against his shirt.

“H-Have you tried?” You venture, feeling embarrassed at having to voice your question. Shy, in spite of everything.

His hand is hot in yours. A sign of his body working overtime to fight off the effects. Something that Bruce said will lead to his ruin.

“In the shower.” Alfred managed, an intake of air hissed through his teeth. An upward flex of his hips, into the air as he remembers.

Working his fist over, again and again. Thinking about you even then, shame burning as bright as the fever.

“It didn’t work. I couldn’t-”

The words die off. Teeth grit as his muscles string tight, sweat dotting across his brow.

You swallow, trying not to picture it. Trying to resist the urge to shift forward - trying to stay focused on him, to fix this like you said you would.

“Do you want to try again?” It comes out as a waver, and you have to clear your throat, “I could kiss you. Or…”

The burn in your cheeks rival his - your eyes dropping to the neat line of buttons.

He huffs a laugh, despite it all. Humor twisting into the pain, “Or you’ll give me a hand, darling?”

You want to tell him you would. That you’d do anything, for him. Bruce could have called you for any reason - you would have come.

Instead, you lean down to kiss him. How he relaxes when there’s something to take the edge off the pain. Catching the hands that roam across your hips, dragging one down to where he strains.

You’ll keep you eyes shut. You’ll be good.

His gasp is swallowed by the press of your mouth. Shifting in his lap as he works the button open on his trousers. Shoving down the elastic waistband to free himself.

Your tongue traces his lower lip. His free hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, to hold you there - hovering over him. Feeling the jerk of a fist between your thighs, how his body moves as he flexes into the touch.

Trying to quell the fire that burns in his veins. That’s only seemed to become hotter since you’ve arrived. Desire twisting into his guts like a knife, making his own touch feel slow and muted.

Not nearly enough.

Frustration tinges his low groan, as his hips jerk angrily into his fist.

“I can’t. I need you, please-” He pants in your mouth, and in desperation - your hand covers his.

The kiss breaking as his moan turns sharp, as you glance down between you. To where he curves, thick and leaking above coarse, grey-flecked curls. The tip flushed red and glossy.

His hand loosens to make room for yours. Achingly hard and hot in your grip, as you mimic his strokes.

Letting go for just a second as he whines, saliva swirling on your tongue before you’re lifting off him. Settling next to him on the bed as your head dips, catching the spit on your palm before you’re slicking up further. Each jerk of your fist loud and filthy in the quiet room.

Concentrating on the pressure and your rhythm as you stroke him, risking a sideways glance up to see him watching - a flex of his hips into your fist when your eyes meet.

You’re sure yours look worried, “Does this feel good?”

The hand on his stomach drops to the bed, twisting in the sheet.

“Darling.” He rasps - his eyes drifting shut then, as your other hand comes to cup him. “I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve wished it was your hand instead of my own.”

His words make you throb, his cock jerking with this admission. Unsure if you can keep up the pace he needs, as your head dips again to give him more.

The pink point of your tongue tracing the seam of his sack. Swollen and heavy as he snarls, his hand coming to cup the back of your head.

“Oh god, please-”

Guiding you to his cock, as he begs for you to take him into your mouth. Tasting like salt and skin as he inches inside, thigh muscles jerking under your hands as he resists the urge to bury himself in your throat.

Sucking on the tip before you take him further. Rising up on yours knees for better leverage, leaning over him with a hand braced against a thick thigh.

Bobbing your head as your take him deep, and then deeper. Swallowing him down until your eyes are pricking with tears from the effort. Leaving his cock slick and messy with spit, as the muscles in his abdomen flex.

“You feel so goddamn good, sweetheart.” He moans, unable to help his words or the shallow thrusts now. Pumping himself into your mouth as your hand slips across what won’t fit. “B-Better than I ever imagined.”

His breathing now short, labored. Fixed on watching your lips stretch around - struggling to take him. Catching the press of your thighs as you squeeze them together, your panties close to soaked through already.

His fingers drift. Up your knee again, the soft skin of your inner thigh.

Your hand pumps and pumps as your eyes flutter shut. Buzzing groans that travel down the flushed shaft to where his sack pulls tight - so close to the release he’s been aching for.

The groan pitching low and long when his fingers pet against the seam of your sleep shorts. A little buck of your hips into his hand as his fingers press the fabric against your clit.

Pulling back to slip beneath - meeting soaked, hot flesh.

You pull off him long enough to croak his name, as his fingers circle the tight bud. The jerk of your fist tight as his ministrations start to waver, his attention splintering.

“Darling, fuck-” He grits out, with the rise and fall of his chest. “Keep going, just like that. You have me so close-”

Unable to help watching his face as you stroke him. Slick pumps as his hand clutches at the sheets, the soft “oh-” of his breath coming shorter and louder.

Your head ducks, then. Taking him into your mouth as he shatters. Growling out your name as he floods your tongue with each heady pulse of his cock, almost choking as you swallow him down.

Coming hard, with his fingers still pressed against your pussy. With only thoughts of you in his mind, some of that haziness worked out of his system.

Alfred doesn’t pull away, as that tightness loosens - as he relaxes back onto the mattress. Instead, his fingers trace down.

One teasing as your opening. Waiting until your soft “yes, please” before it’s sinking inside. Fucking you with it, never leaving you wanting for anything.

A steady pump of his finger - before a second dips along your entrance, fitting in with the first. A messy swipe of his thumb against the bead of your clit, as both press deep into you.

Groaning, as you find yourself relaxing against him. A hand still wrapped around his half-swollen cock. The pollen still flooding his system, the sharp edge just barely tempered.

“I-I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

The protest is weak. Your words not nearly as effective when you’re rocking back to meet the wet press of his fingers as you moan - cheek pressed into the whorls of salt-and-pepper hair blanketing his chest.

He hums, low and rumbling. The hand not buried in you slipping against your cheek, tilting your face up to his.

“You are, darling. God, you are.” He encourages - rough and low and earnest, “The only thing better would be if you were sitting on my face.”

A second, as he amends it, “Or, my cock.”

His fingers press deep, and you keen. Mimicking how he’d do it, curling the tips until he’s stroking a spot that as you seeing stars.

You’ve thought about his hands before.

Ever-steady and strong - scars littering his knuckles that made you wish you knew the stories behind. Tapping fingers against the table as he thinks.

Knocking against yours when you both rushed to grab a component, during the triumph of a breakthrough.

Skillful, in the way that has you jealous. Manipulating parts with dexterous fingers. Never thinking about how they could ruin you but now - you don’t know how you could have missed it.

How you’ll never be able to think of anything else, now.

The hand at your cheek twists until his thumb can press against your lower lip. You part them for him, letting it press against teeth and tongue. Lips closing around him - sucking, as your eyes roll shut, as that sweet pressure begins to bloom and swell.

“Christ I want to fuck you.”

The messy pump of his hand grows louder, slapping now against your skin. The thrust of his fingers turning fast and unrelenting, pounding and pounding against that spot.

The knot in your stomach winding tighter, tighter, tighter. Teeth grazing and pinching his thumb as you groan, but his fingers just curl around your chin to keep your head steady.

“I could make you feel so good, love.”

You’re nodding - too far gone to protest. Rocking back to meet him, your lips releasing him so you can beg.

“Please,” You whine, “Want you to.”

His fingers stroke your cheek, then - hearing the rumble of his words under your ear as it presses to his chest, washing over you.

Fully hard in your hand now. Slick and flushed like before, as your fingers stretch to encircle him. A shallow buck of his hips to ease the friction, as he warns you.

“If I fuck you, I won’t want to stop. I’ll want you like this, every day. Do you understand?”

Your answer is no more than a ragged groan. Panting and open-mouthed, as he drags you closer and closer to a blinding release.

There’s pressure on your jaw, as he tilts your face up to his. His expression wanting and lips-parted as he waits desperately for your answer.

“Tell me you that you want this.” His voice goes low - each word pointed, “That you need it.”

A little bit of clarity, coming back with the release you swallowed down so willingly. Feeling more himself in his own head, even as that pressure begins to swell in his belly. As that sharp wave of desire crashes against him, again.

Needing to hear it. Almost as much as the need to follow through with his words - burying himself deep in you.

Your voice trembles on your answer, “Yes. Please-”

He groans through gritted teeth, his words labored. Thick in your hand, a small thrust as he holds himself back.

“And what do you need, darling?”

It’s so close you can taste it. The tightness building in your guts, turning your brain to a buzzing haze. Each slick pump of his fingers sending a skittering jolt down your spine.

“I need your cock.” You whine, “I need to come, Alfred. I need you-”

His hum is pleased, each thrust of his fingers sends his thumb across your clit. The rhythm steady and almost overwhelming as he pounds against the spongey spot within your tight, clenching walls.

“And I need you to come so I can fuck you properly.” He husks, as the swipe of his thumb sends you toppling over the edge, “Come for me, sweetheart.”

It feels like your heart stops, for a second. A shaky gasp of breath, before the pleasure floods through you in bright, pulsing beats.

Moaning something that feels like words - “oh god, oh my god-” into the crook of his neck as his arm wraps around you, pulling you close. But it could just be warbled sounds, to your muted ears.

His fingers slow, but they’re still pressing in you. Drawing it out, as they become wetter with your release - louder.

“Look at you, soaking my fingers.” He murmured with approval, feeling how you drip down them, damping his palm, “Christ, I wish you making a mess on my cock instead.”

A chaste kiss pressed to the side of your head, as you come back to yourself. Feeling flushed and dizzy with pleasure as your lips brush his.

His hand eases from you, to wrap around his length. Smearing yourself on him, making him throb - that ache fully back.

“Turn around for me, darling.” He demands, his eyes heavy-lidded and wanting, “Hands and knees, now.

You peek up at him as you nod. Pulling back, tugging the layers of your top off. Leaving you bare, his eyes dragging over the soft weight of your breasts, the tight peaks that he fully intends to touch later, to taste.

“Leave those on.” He growls - as your fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts. As his own work at his shirt and trousers, “I want to take them off you myself.”

His words make you shiver, a slow dance as the mattress dips. As you shift around each other - you stretching out like a cat in front of him, a sway of your ass in the air as you push up onto your knees.

The way his spread, strong and sturdy as his hips fit against your soft curves. The brush of his length against your thigh, hanging heavy.

Fingers that move faster, rougher, than he wants to. A sharp tug as they curl around the waistband and pull - pushing them down your thighs, leaving the layers to pool around your knees.

Pressing into soft flesh, then. Cupping the curves of your ass as his fingers sink in, as he tugs you open for him to see.

“Mm. Look at how wet you are.” He groans, the touch of a his thumb against your slit. Pressing against your entrance, seeing how you swallow the tip - clenching around it, “Such a pretty little pussy.”

That path between his mind and his mouth - his filter, that enduring and ever-lasting politeness - was severed, some time ago.

Replacing propriety and inhibition with baser needs. Urges that he would deny he had, on another night. Swallowing down those words that slide from a silver tongue that doesn’t quite feel like his.

Even if the thoughts are, deep down.

You’re pushing back into him, breaking this brief moment of reverie. Desperate and needy in a way that has you half-wondering if you’ve been affected yourself, in some way.

Absorbing some of the pollen, with your joining.

Or is it just the weeks of desire - crashing over you like a wave against the shore? Utterly pulling you under and surrounding your every thought, until you’re drowning in them?

He angles himself against you. Sliding against your core, then up, with the curve of his cock. Against tight and sensitive skin that has you peeking over your shoulder, still trusting.

Taking him in, then. Strong shoulders, a smattering of hair you had pressed your face against. Marks against his skin of scars long healed - across his ribs, curling around a shoulder.

A tapered waist. Flicking back up to those blue eyes. A furrowed brow as he concentrates, a face you know well. One that sends your heart tripping over itself as it threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Are you-?” He asks, unsure of how to word it. Lips parted in a pant, that pressure against his chest coming back.

“Yes,” You arch against him - knowing what he’s asking, the way he’s holding himself back, “I’m protected. Baby, please-”

“Fuck.” Alfred grits through clenched teeth.

He’s imagined you begging before. Late at night, when he’s alone - with desperate jerks his fist. Never imagining he’d hear it, sighed so prettily through your lips.

Angling himself down, as your eyes close. A sharp intake of breath as the fat head of his cock sinks into you. Stretching you out even with your orgasm - your breath caught in your throat as his hands grasp at your waist, tugging you back.

Seating him fully into you, with a low groan. Already inching back so he can rock into you, starting shallow - each one pulling back a little more, pressing deeper.

“So tight,” He moans - a hand sliding down your back, “So perfect, oh-”

Losing himself in the relief. In the heat of your pussy, unable to help grinding himself as a hand curls against the juncture of your thigh. Gripping on as he starts to fuck himself harder into you - your fingers twisting into the sheets, gasping at how much he fills you.

The hand against your back presses down. You arch more, as your cheek rests against the mattress. The discarded shirt nudging against the stiff peaks of your nipples with each of his rough thrusts, sparking pleasure down your spine.

“Feel so good,” You manage, all but drooling. Groaning into the sheets as you rock back to meet him, the best you can.

The slap of skin is louder, wetter than his fingers. Your breath growing short as his cock ghosts against the spot his fingers pounded against. Twin groans as your arm twists around, so your fingers can slip between your thighs.

“I want to fuck you all day. Four, five times.” He breathes. Eyes dropping to watch the way he disappears into you, how you take him so perfectly, “Keep you right here beneath me. Leave you covered in me each night.”

Unrealistic as it is, the rasp of his voice - his words - do something to you. Your fingers pressing intently against your clit. A soft, groaning gasp with each sharp punch, breaking your pleasure out of the plateau, sending it higher.

Clenching down around him, fueled by the groans and sweet praise that he gives so freely. It has you wondering if he’s always this generous. A twisted hope that just maybe, on another night, you might get the chance to find out.

Wishing that the root of his desire won’t slip away at the end, with the rest. That he’ll still want you.

It’s almost pathetic how close you are already easy, your fingers circling just a little harder, a little faster.

“Christ, I can feel you,” He sighs, each word drawn out, released with the stroke of his cock, “I’m not going to last, love.”

You almost miss it, with the way your heart thuds in your ears. But the little word is the beginning of your undoing - your own tiny warble as your muscles string tight.

“Don’t stop,” You whine, as he shifts - pressing more of his weight against your back as he archs over you.

The angle changing just a bit, until he’s nudging that spongy spot that has tears springing to your eyes with how good it feels.

“Fuck, baby. Please don’t stop, please-”

His lips press against your shoulder, your neck - the hand at your hip planting near your shoulder for leverage. Teeth grazing skin as he keeps going, just like you begged.

Giving it to you, until you’re reaching for him. Your fingers wrapping around his as you come, the rock of his hips slowing so he can feel how you pulse around him. How you sob his name into the sheets with little bucks of your hips, riding it out until you’re loose-limbed and content - hazy, in your afterglow.

Never fully stopping the way he presses into you. Rolling and rutting as your tight grip loosens, though your hand stays trapped in his. His mouth pressing against your neck, then higher.

“Please tell me I can come in you,” His groan is filthy in your ear, “Tell me you’ll take it.”

The rough timber of his voice, the thought, as your own thoughts flowing freely.

“Please. I’ll take it,” You beg, “I need you to come in me.”

The hand on your back shifts, sliding beneath and flattening against your belly. Keeping you pressed flush against him as your begging tips him over.

You hadn’t watched, earlier. Eyes fluttering closed, concentrating on swallowing him down. Your head tilts to look, now.

Catching a clenched jaw, the scrape of his beard against your cheek. A breath pulled through those teeth before he groans your name, sounding so pretty to your ears.

Feeling the throb of his cock as he comes - the rock of his hips with each pulse. Warmth flooding inside you as he nudges it deeper.

Notching himself deep, as he relaxes. A soft sigh as his nose ghost the curve of your neck, his weight pressing you prone. Welcome, as you stretch out beneath him.

Your head tilts, smiling. His own matching, as lips start to brush. Starting soft and slowly growing needier as the minutes pass by, his cock still hard where it sits in you.

Gently easing himself out, hands coming to your waist, flipping you over. Peeling the shorts and panties from your ankles, dropping them off the edge of the bed.

Kneeling between spread thighs as his eyes drag down. Fingers tracing after - against your collarbones, your tits. Cupping and pinching as his tongue follows.

A little shift of your hips. More than satisfied, but unable to help the little flame that sparkle to life as he kisses the curves of your breasts. Then, going lower.

Shifting back on the bed, a thumb slipping over your folds. Smearing his cum against your skin, where it’s dripped down the curve of your thigh.

“May I taste you?” He’s asking, as you push yourself up on your elbows.

Wide-eyed with want, as you go to move - to clean up. His hands pressing into your hips, holding you there.

“L-like this?” You squeak, and his nod is slow, severe.

“Like this.” He tells you, simply.

You nod, leaning back against the pillows. A gasp when his tongue swirls against your skin, as he groans. Tasting his spend mixing with the salty tang of your cunt, the tip tracing from your entrance to the tight bud of your clit.

Alfred wishes that his veins weren’t still so pumped full of pollen. That his mind wasn’t fractured between want and need.

On another night, he’d take his time. Enjoy the way his fingers sunk into you - seeing how many you could take. Slowly drawing it out as his tongue teases, until your thighs are closing around him.

Until you’re begging.

Tonight, he can barely concentrate. Eyes closed as he tries to focus on your taste and not the unrelenting fire that scorches his insides. More than aware of the heat that beads at his forehead. The rapid thudding of his heart.

It’s eased, some. But it’s not enough.

You buck against his mouth. The soft, wet brush of his tongue, the way he looks - arms hooked around your thighs, strands of slicked-back hair breaking free and curling - has you insatiable.

The soft “please” is all it takes to sever his attention, blown-wide eyes lifting - finding yours. A hand passing over his jaw, smearing your slick across his beard, as he rises again.

Pulling your thighs up over his. Spreading them with strong hands, as he works himself inside you again.

Your back arching as he does, lifting off the mattress.

It’s an easier fit, this time. Still slick, as he pushes himself deep. Legs twitching in his grasp, trying to latch around his waist.

A gentle nudge, a stern look.

“Keep your legs open for me, darling.”

They fall open, for him.

You’ve never had it like this. So full as he starts fucking you again, pushing his cum out with each thrust. Coating his cock and starting to drip down your thighs.

He groans at the sight - the way he looks as you take him, again and again. The sentiments softer this time, as your soft moans fill the air.

“I want to take you out.” He rasps, eyes still locked on the way he shines with you, with his own spend, “Make you breakfast, after I’ve fucked you in my bed.”

Eyes finally meeting yours, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched wide around him. His voice dropping low, “After I’ve made all your pretty little holes mine.”

You whimper at the thought. How easily you agree, with a little nod of you head, “Yours.”

Eyes trapped in a loop from the pretty twist of his snarl - all furrowed eyebrows and concentration- down to his chest, trailing further.

Hips tilted just enough so you can see. The peek of his cock before the impact of his thrust, how it bounces you against the mattress. Making that need return, the build of something hot and twisting, low in your belly.

This time, he does it himself.

Gently batting your fingers away when they drift down. Sliding his own across your thighs, sticky and slick when they com back to press against your clit.

Building you up, and up, and up.

That ache quelled, like this. Enough where he can slow down, when he’s buried it you.

Your breathy gasps making his other hand clench against the fat of your hip, trying to keep his movements steady.

Cooing soft encouragement, as he feels the way you clench around him again.

“Make a mess for me, darling. It’s okay.”

That edge, creeping back as you moan his name, “Fuck, I want you to. Come on-”

You shatter. Stomach clenching at that pleasure ripples through you. Softer this time, coaxed from you instead of wrenched. The relief washing over sweat-dewed skin and wrapping around you.

He follows, soon after. With hands that tug you against him, meeting the lazy rock of your hips. Finding his own pleasure in yours - head tilted back as he stifles a sharp groan, pressing himself deep as he comes.

A silence settling, then.

Your arms rests over your face - teeth pressing into your lip as you grin. Chest heaving with your breath, his hands planted on either side of your hips.

That heavy fog of want almost gone now, the pollen leeched from his system. Still lingering on the edges of his mind - as his hand comes to cup himself.

Wanting it over with. Wanting to end this night with you with just himself in his head.

A twinge of overstimulation, fighting through it as his fingers wrap around his shaft. Slick and streaked with cum as he finishes himself, one more time.

His thumb smoothing across your thigh, as your arm drops. Feeling vouyeristic as you peek at him, now - the flex of his arm, of his chest.

“I know you’re tired darling.” He soothes, when his eyes pull from the place where he’s fucked you open and dripping, “Stay like that, just once more.”

Sleepy and slated, you nod - his fingers dipping down to collect more of the mess, before spreading it on his cock.

Your hand finds his and drags it up to your chest, letting him cup your skin. Ghosting over your hips and curves, his touch reverent.

Watching greedily this time, as his brows pull together. More in his head than ever, the night replaying in his mind. Your soft words and touch and how you came here, just for him.

How he hopes he can make it to you. That you’ll won’t run as soon as the night is over.

Affection swells, and then bursts. A throaty groan as he spills across his knuckles, dripping down to where he holds himself against your pussy.

Covering puffy folds with white streaks of his release, marking you in a way that burns into his chest, sears into his memory.

Coming back to himself, fully - then.

Relief brimming as he watches how you smile. Looking at home in his bed, your arms opening for him as he slowly bends, relaxes.

Needing you, thought not like before.

Needing your touch, as your arms curl around him. A tenderness, breathed out against your neck. One he doesn’t have to give, though he feels like he must.

“Thank you, darling.”

The heat of the water eases the pleasurable ache in your thighs, the space between them. A gentle swipe of a cloth as he wipes you clean, as your back presses into his chest.

Content to let your head lull against his shoulder, your hands wandering to massage his thighs, where the muscles pull tight from overuse.

Taking just another moment alone, before you fetch that little silver button in your shorts. Knowing that Bruce is waiting - worried - despite what Alfred said.

“So,” You’re the first to break the silence, “Were you serious about breakfast?”

Thinking back to what he said, in the heat of the moment. The late night hours spilling into a soft grey sky that promises a clear, beautiful morning.

A second of silence, before the words rumble in his chest, “If you’ll have me.”

His hand curling around you, possessive and comforting.

“Maybe Bruce was right. That this just sped things up.” Your fingers leave his thigh to float on the water, sending ripples across the surface.

Your confession quiet in the large room, “I meant it, when I said I wanted you.”

The grip on you tightens, his filter fully back in place. Stealing his words and his tongue, after all that has happened.

“Alright, breakfast.” He manages, “I’m yours.”

A small grin, as you tilt your head to peek at him. Seeing only affection in his eyes, and you think you understand.

Your voice pitches low, “And, what about the rest?”

The rest of what he had said. He groans at the reminder, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“That too.” A huff of a laugh, his thumb brushing against skin, “Though we might need to wait, at least a little bit.”

Then, growing serious, “I know we skipped some steps darling. But I meant it, as well.”

His hand find yours - fingers entwining. Squeezing.

“I want you. I want to do this properly. Dates, flowers, everything.” A moment, as he considers, amends, “Though perhaps… no roses. At least, not for a little while.”

“Alright,” You smile, settling back down against him. The water sloshing over the edge, but at the moment - you’re both too tired to care.

“No roses.”

(0 pressure tagging some friends that commented on the sneak peek! 💕 @the-dazzling-urbanite, @the-eyes-of-andyserkis, @celestianstars, @vellichormybeloved, @ohheyitsokay, @princessxkenobi, @avarkriss, @arthurmorganstinkydick, @proud-to-know-you, @weirdsociology, @cat-shapedgoo, @themilesgmorales, @ghotifishreads, @communism-bitches )

#please mind the tags! #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth x f!reader #alfred pennyworth smut #the batman 2022

[stargirlfics]

The Gentleman Chapter 4: Do I Wanna Know?

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Summary: While you and Alfred are caught up in the clouds of your romantic night together, on the ground, not all is as well as it seems

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of violence and injury - canon typical, drug/alcohol mentions, protective!Alfred, slight angst, fluff and feelings, smut: unprotected sex, soft sleepy PiV, praise kink, creampie

Word Count: 5.2k

Note: Apologies for how long it’s been since I last wrote for this story, I hope this chapter is well worth the wait! Things are beginning to unfold and unravel and I am so excited about it!

[series masterlist] [series playlist]

Sore limbs of yours uncurl against the solid warmth that is Alfred next to you in bed, bare arms keeping you pressed close to his chest, your nose nuzzling into his side where you’re tucked. 

It almost feels like a dream, some kind of fairytale you’ve found yourself in, head up in the clouds with no signs of coming down…and you had no protests about it.

During the night you had wriggled around to face him, waking up now with his scent surrounding you, the blankets, and his broad hands splayed across your body keeping you cozy and content. 

Calm silver light found its way through the gap in the curtains casting a soft haze through the room, making you curl up against his side even more, earning you a raspy chuckle. 

“Good morning, darling.” 

The sound has your eyes fluttering open, a thrill running through your chest at the deep lull of Alfred’s morning voice, his accent just a little more pronounced. Another thrill came right after at how utterly handsome he looked first thing in the morning. 

His usually perfectly styled hair was out of place, the natural waves of his locks making an appearance against his undercut, a smile already on your face at the sight, “Morning…” you yawned, eyes closing for a second before opening to find his gaze still on you. 

The memory of the night before crossed your mind then, flashes of the things he’d done to you replaying as you dared to peek back at him, inevitably succumbing and losing yourself in the sleepy blue of his eyes, the adoring, heated look they held, mirroring the same desire you’d seen in them last night only a little softer now. 

A jolt in your lower tummy and the sudden worry that he could read your face had you lowering your head, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, hiding there while you tried not to think about the way his hands had felt keeping you in place and spread out for him while he fucked you into the bed. 

Or the way you had to stretch your mouth to fit around him, the reminder of his size, the weight of him inside you making your thighs press together, trying to stave off the ache already blooming between them. 

But Alfred wasn’t one for missing details, catching how your body subtly shifts against his. 

Seems as if you both woke up in a mood this morning, feeling the gentle pressure of his hips pressing against yours, his arms cradling more of your body now, effectively pulling you closer into his center. 

Yeah, you thought, you could stay like this forever. 

Blankets pulled up around you, keeping you warm in the slightly chilly room, hovering somewhere between awake and drifting off to sleep again as you lay in Alfred’s arms, safe and taken care of. 

You’re trapped sweetly against his chest when you hear it, the words that ignite the fire that had been building since you woke. 

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you, just tell me.” 

It almost sounds like a plea, a whimper of your own lodged in your throat when you look up at him again and see just how much he means those words. 

If it were anyone else you might have been too embarrassed at just how badly you wanted him but there was an automatic kind of safety you felt with Alfred that made it so easy to show how you burned for him, that made you want to do as he said, to be good for him, especially with the promise that he’ll grant you whatever you wished.

“Miss you inside me,” you whined, “Just want you to fill me up, please.” 

There was no hesitation in the way he moved in to kiss you, swallowing the rest of your “please” while his hands got to work tugging down your underwear.

Nimble fingers touched down on slick skin, coating them in your arousal before rubbing circles against your clit.

His resounding groan and your whimper mix together while you cling to him. 

“Christ, always so ready for me. That’s my girl.” 

The words made your chest feel tight, clenching around nothing because something about hearing him call you his and seeing and feeling the way you affect him makes you feel proud.

It’s funny, how easy it is to imagine it, being his, sharing your life with him, falling in love, realizing you want nothing more than to be weaved into the intricacies that make up his life. 

And that scares you. 

Your heart was familiar with this kind of gamble, too much of a romantic to ever resist the pull but also acquainted with the specific kind of anguish relationships could bring, hoping this one wouldn’t hurt you like the others had. 

Yeah, speaking honestly, it terrified you. 

But then Alfred was cutting through the noise in your head, pulling you back into the moment fully, his fingers still coaxing your arousal higher, making you whine when his mouth meets yours again, this time more urgent, needy. 

Still facing him you hooked a thigh over his hip, trying to pull yourself even closer, grinding against his fingers until you’d grown impatient enough to slip your panties off the rest of the way.  

Rocking your hips against him you reached for his waist, your fist finding what you wanted easily, almost shaky from want, trying to steady yourself as you palmed over the bulge in his boxers, content with the breathy sighs and groans you get as a result.

He follows your lead, pushing the fabric down to release himself, your warm, soft palm meeting the flushed, heated skin of his cock, obsessed with the way his jaw grits in response to your touch.

Your grip changes, positioning your hand so it dips down, taking him with you, guiding him toward where you want and need him most. 

“I need to get a condom, sweetheart…” he hums and halts your wrist, the sentiment almost sounding like a reprimand if you didn’t know him to be so thoughtful, looking out for you always.  

But you’d anticipated this, a response already on the tip of your tongue before he could say anything more. 

“Don’t want one this time,” you stifle a small yawn, your hand twisting around his shaft, pumping him a few times, giving him more reassurance that you were okay and safe without one if he was okay with it too, a sinful smile as you say the words that damn you, “Wanna feel you when you fuck me.”

“Yeah? Is that so? How filthy…it’s not even seven in the morning yet and your pretty cunt already needs me.” 

That has you tilting your hips up, nodding your agreement at his searing words, your mind already foggy as you felt him press against your folds, sliding with how wet you were. Alfred’s mention of the time had you slowing yourself down a little, pillowed by the dreamy safety of being in bed, of having time to savor this, there didn’t have to be any rush. 

One of his hands sweetly held your hip, the other finding the side of your face you were laying on, cradling your head in his broad palm, groaning with each pass of his hips against your folds, rocking slow and steady until the tip of his length catches against your entrance and you’re both breathing heavy at the pressure of him sinking into you, finally. 

Your eyes flutter as he drags against your walls, seating himself deep, till he’s all the way inside, stuffing you full before slowly pulling back, never going too far, just enough to have you gasping as he plunges deeper into you again, fucking you sweetly. 

“O-oh! You feel so good, it’s so good,” your soft moans and cries wreck him, you know they do, able to feel his grip on your hip grow firmer, a soft but heated passion sparking every ember smoldering inside you both. 

Your praise made him smile, ego softly boosted at the sincerity in your words, being able to tell that you meant it, you weren’t just saying words he might like to hear, you were telling him how good he was making you feel and that was everything. 

It made him want to fuck you like you were his. 

In his mind, you already were even if the conversation hadn’t been had yet, even if it scared him to think about for so many reasons, his fears nor yours would get in the way here, not when he was pressing you flush with his body, your nipples budding at the contact through the thin material of your sleep shirt. 

There was possessiveness in the way he held you against his chest, in the way he fucked you, grinding his hips deep, obsessed with the way your head tips forward to bury in his neck, how you relax into his hold and let him do as he pleases. 

Your fingers pinch at his skin, clinging on as he brings you over the edge swiftly, pulling a blissful orgasm from you twice, not stopping or slowing after the first leeches your energy, building the pleasure back up again. 

It’s the eye contact that makes you shudder, still so disarmed by the intensity they could hold, melting into the fact that you trusted him, that you knew he’d take good care of you, that you could fully immerse yourself in what you were feeling. 

Sweet little curses and whines fall from your parted lips, kiss swollen from his own, the prickle of his beard against your skin making you clench around him, the slap of his hips against you growing just a little harder as he chased his own release now too.

“Please, please,” your frantic plea and the fucked out look on your face nearly has him there. 

“I know, fuck, I know, darling,” the rough, ground out rasp of his accent goes straight to your core, your sensitive walls pulsing as you came again, going soft and pliant in his arms. 

An endless stream of praise fell on your ears as Alfred fucked you through it, letting you ride out the waves, holding out until he couldn’t any longer, his self control finally snapping when you whispered to him to finish how he had last night, wanting to feel him release inside you till he was spent, properly this time, till you were sure you were coated in every drop. 

He did just as you asked, staying vocal like you hoped he would, his arms still keeping you pressed to him as you caught your breaths together after, a self assured smile rising to your cheeks following more praise about how incredible you are, how incredible you made him feel. 

It’s a feeling you want to stay in forever as he finally withdraws from you, eyes fixated on where you start to drip with him already, the two of you curling back around each other under the blankets, finding another hour or so of sleep before starting the day could no longer be pushed back. 

Alfred wasn’t needed at the office until the afternoon and planned to make good use of all the time he could have with you, convincing you to get out of bed with the allure of taking a shower with him and being treated to a home cooked breakfast.

No way you were resisting that, heart skipping in your chest at just how good the last twelve hours had been to you so far. 

You’d pinch yourself if you weren’t so giddy. 

-

The Tower was a new kind of stunning in the daylight and you were delighted to pick up all the extra details you’d missed last night, noting all the natural light coming in, how it contrasted perfectly with the gothic style you don’t think you’ll ever tire of admiring. 

Once you’d finished getting ready Alfred led you down the same path to the kitchen, showing you where the laundry room and a few other things were down the stretch of hallway that opened into the updated but still rustic style kitchen. 

You took your seat at the island, perched on the same bar stool you’d sat at when you shared that late night sandwich with Alfred, now watching him cook for you again. 

Waffles were on the menu this morning per his request, only under the condition that you could make a request of your own: that he makes you your first proper cup of English tea. 

It was an immediate yes. 

“Looks like Bruce had the same idea about waffles this morning…” you chuckled at the hastily cleaned up breakfast endeavor left behind on the counter space in front of you.  

Alfred sighs with a smile, “Indeed, in all his tidiness. I’m glad he’s eaten though, I swear sometimes if I don’t nudge him he’ll forget about his meals.” 

You’re starting to pick up more things about their relationship, their dynamics. 

How much you can tell Alfred loves Bruce, parental affection in his tone when he talks about him, knowing they’ve been through so much together, good and bad, and would do anything for each other, how they were a family…it feels so special to get glimpses of. 

Laughter and the smell of waffle batter and syrup fill the kitchen now, the misty fall morning making you feel especially cozy here next to him, by the heat of the stove listening to him indulge your questions about the perfect cup of tea. 

You don’t notice at first but you find yourself carefully cataloging things as he talks like you're storing them for later like there’s a future you’re saving up these details for. The realization leaves you flustered, not sure if you can stop the feelings beginning to bubble up the more time you spend with him. 

But you try not to dwell on it for long, fresh Belgian style waffles with blueberries on top were calling your name, unable to stop yourself from doing a delighted wiggle in your seat at the taste. 

He grinned at that. 

So he was handsome and caring and romantic and sexy and proving to be a good cook too? 

Again, you’d be pinching yourself if you weren’t such a ball of excitement. 

You talked some more as you ate together, telling him about the show, how you came up with the routines, talking to him about your friends, mentioning that they knew about him and were so thrilled he came to watch you dance, how he’d scored points with them over that which made his cheeks pink up a tad, warming your heart even more. 

How he could intimidate you in the best way one moment and then be so adorably sweet the next bewildered you. 

You also shared your love for the style of the kitchen, perking up when Alfred told you the decor credit had to be given to Dory, their housekeeper, mentioning that she had been a dancer in her youth and that he’s sure she would adore you.

“Of course, I have her beat in that department but I may be biased.” 

The way he said it made your cheeks burn with warmth, caught off guard by his suaveness once again, heart soaring at his words, how he stated it as a fact. 

He was going to be the death of you. 

The plates had long since been cleared and put in the sink to soak, mid-morning flying by as you spent time in the main room with him, looking over his books, the collection of different antiques and heirlooms in cases that filled the spaces of shelves, a happy conversation going until you both realized the time. 

He drove you home after you gathered your things, reluctantly kissing him goodbye at your door, thanking him for everything with a bashful, barely contained grin. 

You watched him go after a moment and another kiss, not wanting him to be late for the board meeting he was headed to. 

A collection of memories from last night, a few indulgent favorite moments, would be heavy on your mind all day you were sure of it and there wasn’t much of your own self restraint left to keep from spending the rest of your free time daydreaming about it all. 

Not that you minded one single bit!

LATER THAT EVENING….

The Iceberg Lounge was busy on the heels of another show. 

You weren’t dancing in this one, it was your night off from the stage so Amber and Kiera could perform their routines, instead getting plucked from bar duties to deliver a few ‘packages’ and a drink to Oz up in his office. 

You’d rather deal with any other man out in the crowd but there wasn’t any getting out of it, a thick envelope of cash placed on your drinks platter, a quick shuffle in your steps as you were nudged in the direction of his private office by one of his security detail. 

There were two drinks on the platter tonight and you kept your fingers crossed it meant he had company when you got there, not wanting to spend any moment alone with him if you could help it. 

Oz has a bad side nobody wanted to be on, his perfectly content side was sleazy at best and downright dangerous at worst and you were already on thin ice with the boss. 

You were sure he hadn’t forgotten your insolence those weeks ago, how you had scoffed at him, bruised his ego about becoming the one in charge in this city, how he’d sent some of his guys to intimidate you, to stalk you and do god knows what else as you walked home that morning. 

It’s the memory of that very morning and how it quite literally thrust you into Alfred’s arms that made you take a deep breath to steady yourself as you approached the office. You can get through this. 

Oz isn’t alone to your relief, your eyes keeping low, trying to avoid eye contact as he and the man sitting next to him talk. 

There isn’t anything special about his guest, you know you don’t recognize his face and the plain suit and rectangle glasses he wore weren’t terribly out of the ordinary for the kind of people Oz did business with. 

He just didn’t look as threatening as the usual crowd, on the younger side too but judging by the way you felt the man eye you up and down you were sure his nonthreatening looks were plenty deceiving. 

You hated this, feeling like some helpless mouse in a trap, presenting the platter neatly, professionally, not a thing out of place. 

“Well look at that, about time someone got me those drinks I asked for,” Oz sneered, a gold tooth flashing in the glittering lights of the club. He noticed his guest raking their eyes over you and snickered, “Yeah, she’s a beauty ain’t she? Just finished teachin her a lesson in respect too so she’s puttin it on extra sweet for us tonight right, honey?” 

The pet name made you grit your teeth, the subtle message in his words making you want to throw his stupid drink in his face just to wipe the grin off of it. 

But you held your tongue and smiled, nodding politely, trying your best to keep calm, to not cry or scream or break something right there and then. 

“Ah, it seems she learns well. Dr. Jonathan Crane, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces himself and you give him a curt nod, knowing better than to give him your name. 

A doctor doing business with the shadiest man in Gotham, you were sure you’d seen everything. 

They return to their conversation and you wait for Oz to take the envelope of cash before you snatch your platter up and head for the door, spying him hand Mr. Crane an envelope of the new hot drug in town, drops.

Of course, the good doctor was dealing in Oz’s drug trade, it made sense now, he must be the newest high-paying customer. 

Whatever the deal was, you were glad not to stick around.

–

Another few hours had gone by and you were weaving through the tables near the stage, admiring your girls pulling off every dance without a hitch while you collected empty glasses and got people their drinks, being extra nice to those you knew would leave you good tips.

The night passed quickly, Oz finishing up business on the main floor, coming around to mingle with regulars before slinking off to some private hotel room next door, a different woman on his arm tonight than the last.

You were just glad he wasn’t going to be around for the rest of the night, able to relax a little more now.

The midnight hour came knocking, the show now finished, and closing duties for the night starting, making a quick detour to the dressing rooms to gush about everyone’s performances, loyal to the artform you were working here for first and foremost, Oz didn’t get to take that joy away from you. 

After your catchup with Kiera and the rest of the girls, you got to work wiping down tables, collecting any left behind tips in your section, lost in thought as you tidied up that the sharp buzz of your phone nearly startled you.  

It was a text notification from Alfred, the sight of his name making you smile until you opened it, a news article made within the last hour attached to his message that read, Darling, I’m coming to pick you up, I’ll be driving you home tonight, I don’t want you out on the streets trying to get home with this going on. I’ll be there soon x.

Something was going on out there and it didn’t sound good. 

Eyes bouncing up to the article, you opened it, the title sending a chill down your spine. 

GOTHAM TIMES - Violence Breaks Out at Paulie’s Diner after Unknown Chemical Attack 

You knew that diner, it wasn’t too far from The Iceberg either, not exactly close but near enough that being outside right now wasn’t safe. The information slowly began to sink in as you skimmed the article. 

A man was said to have been smoking in one of the booths and was asked to stop before he attacked staff, wearing some sort of mask that released a gas chemical, chaos erupted right after, and nearly everyone in the diner was either badly injured or killed. 

That wasn’t all either, dread knotting in your stomach at the message this masked man had left behind. 

This is Gotham’s only warning. Fear The Scarecrow.

They were calling the gas, fear toxin, from what you could tell. Reporters were saying this is likely the first attack among many and investigators were already working on finding the man.

Unease filled your chest at the events unfolding, pictures and videos of the incident circulating in your news feed. It was everywhere. 

An all too familiar worry began to rise, reminding you of the previous year, The Riddler putting the city underwater for months, and now this Scarecrow, whoever he was, seemed just as bad if not worse with his toxin. 

You hoped Alfred could make it without trouble, understanding and grateful that he hadn’t hesitated in his decision to come and get you even if you weren’t necessarily near the danger but also worrying for his sake too, not wanting him to get caught up in the madness that seemed to follow when things like this happened. 

Finishing up the last of what needed to be done you rushed back to the dressing rooms to see if anyone else had heard, warning everyone you passed to be safe as they headed out, finding Roxie and Bambi before they left the club and Kiera and Amber right behind them. 

You all huddled near the stage entrance of the alley, talking about what was going on when you got a call from Alfred saying he was parked outside the alley and would come walk you to the car. 

“Are your friends with you, love?” 

“Yeah we were just talking about what happened, is it really bad out there? Some of the girls were wondering if it wasn’t too bad to catch a train home.”

“Things are...quiet so far but tense. I think that’s too risky, people are already starting to panic, and I do not like the idea of you ladies being on the subway this late at night. If your friends are comfortable, I’d be more than happy to take them home too.”

God, he was so sweet. 

You really appreciated just how concerned he was, understanding why he wasn’t leaving this to chance even if he understood you were capable of looking after yourselves. It made you feel safe to know he was here, and he was serious and respectful about protecting you and by extension, the people you cared about. 

It meant a great deal and the feeling was shared by the group as you told them what Alfred had said, thanking him softly and hanging up before you were all heading out the back door, meeting Alfred halfway, greeting you with open arms. 

He greeted you all with immediate reassurances, a sense of calm urgency about his body language that reassured you he knew what he was doing, that told you he was capable as he led you to his car just up ahead at the mouth of the alleyway. 

You all stuck close to his side, his arms down but positioned out just slightly, keeping himself between you and the space of the open street ahead, smoothly unlocking and opening the car door, seeing that each of you was tucked safely inside before he was checking his surroundings briefly, slipping into the drivers seat a quick moment later. 

Everyone decided they were going to crash the night at Bambi’s place not too far from your own and a good distance away from Downtown, Alfred already picking up the quickest route to her address. 

Now that things had settled some, introductions went around and everyone shared a giggle about being in this strange situation together, a smile beginning to creep up onto your face despite what was going on as your friends gently prodded Alfred with questions, all of them including yourself charmed by his answers. 

You thought it was safe to say he’d passed whatever kind of test they had for him, Roxie starting off a chain of thank you’s when Bambi’s apartment building came into view, her and Amber making swooning gestures as the car came to a stop, making you shake your head and shoo them out of the car. 

“Have a good night, ladies. Please be safe,” Alfred chuckled his own goodbyes, sharing a happy look with you at their collective, “We will!”

He waited till he was sure they were inside before driving away, his hand finding its place on your thigh as he took you home, his thumb passing over your knee soothingly from time to time. 

Sooner than you wished he was parking outside your place, following close behind you, protecting your back as you walked to your door. 

You fumbled with your keys for a second, fingers a little slow with the biting chill of the air, unlocking the door soon after, turning reluctantly to say goodnight. 

“You can’t stay can you?” The question is shy, quiet coming off your lips and you’re a little worried you sounded too clingy or too invested when his hands come up to cup your cheeks, lifting your head a little so you’d look at him.

Of course, there would be nothing but gentleness on his features, you should have known he wouldn’t be off put by your words.

“My darling, I’d love nothing more than to stay. I’m not keen on leaving you alone tonight, I would if I could, lovely. I’m sorry to disappoint.” 

There’s worry laced in his tone and it stings your heart, rushing to reassure him that he was far from disappointing you. Reminding him how special and amazing the last day with him had been, that you and your friends were safe tonight because of him.

And yes you’d miss him but knew he and Bruce had undertaken a lot trying to build up and fix Wayne Enterprises, and you knew that came with late nights, knew he couldn’t always stay and that was okay because you knew he’d make time for you when he could and you’d do the same for him.

Your words seemed to soothe him, resting his case with a purposeful nod as you leaned in to kiss him goodnight. 

“Get some rest, love. And hey, those doors and windows of yours stay closed and locked, is that understood?” 

The slight serious shift in his tone, the soft sternness of it almost made you lose your breath, nodding and squeaking out a “Yes. Promise.” a delayed second later. 

What was it about being cared for so fiercely that made you want him so badly? It simply wasn’t fair!

Sharing another soft kiss you slipped inside to the warmth of your apartment, waving to him through your window and watching him drive off after a moment. 

The street was quiet so far tonight though you could hear the distant wailing of sirens and the particular hazy glow of the bat shaped beacon illuminating the sky above told you things were far from quiet in the city.

You didn’t have much faith in whatever investigators were on the case to find Scarecrow before something else could happen but maybe just maybe, The Batman had a chance…if he did it once before…

Forcing yourself away from the window you shut your blinds, retreating into the hot steam of the shower, later curled in bed with a book, reading but finding that you had to go back and re-read a passage every so often, lost in thought again, things coming full circle to thinking of Alfred, of your feelings.

Softened and vulnerable now that you thought it over, scared to wonder, to ask, to know if these feelings were the same for him. 

It scared you to know he affected you this much already, that you cared about him and wanted him and felt things for him more than you had cared to admit even a day ago.

Could it be too soon, too dangerous to think of a potential relationship with him, to let yourself feel like this was more than just a few great dates and amazing sex, that maybe there was something more beginning here and you could trust in it?

You wanted nothing more, knowing in your heart already that if you were wrong it would crush you to bits but that’s not what you wanted to dwell on tonight, not with so much doom already on the horizon. 

No, tonight you’d indulge yourself, thinking of the older man that now occupied so much of your thoughts, dreaming of his strong arms wrapped around you and the way he’d held you close like he never wanted to let you go. 

The more you thought about all the moments you’d spent with him since you met, you started to feel like maybe you could trust your gut with this one, holding onto the thrilling hunch that the answer would be everything you were hoping for.

-----

A/N: Ok ok ok how are we feeling, what are we thinking about this one? Let me know!! And yay we have a new character/villain edition with Scarecrow in the mix! I thought he would be a good one to add to this story especially with the fear toxin storyline, I have sooo much cooking for this plot with a few influences from different Batman media so I can’t wait to show you where this takes us!! Also couldn’t resist sprinkling more protective Alfred in this one so I hope this is a good read! I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading it!

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs make my day! 🖤

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[the-witty-pen-name]

Edward Nashton (The Batman) x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

College AU

Warnings: Stalking & other creepy behavior, Manipulation, Incel/Misogynistic Mindset, Alcohol and other substances, Descriptions of Smut and Masturbation, Cursing

As usual, this is unedited and if there are any tags or warnings I may have forgotten to include, please let me know.

THIS IS AN 18+ STORY WITH DARK THEMES, PAY ATTENTION TO WARNINGS AND MINORS DNI

You’re so sweet. Soft and warm, and everything that just clouds his focus. He’s memorized every curve, and the natural sway when you walk into a room. It’s like sunshine when you smile, and he notices the way they gravitate towards you. Of course they do, they all do. He’s not naive enough to believe he’s not the only one who wants to be near you. It’s effortless, the way people are drawn to you. But it’s in vain, every time, polite rejections that leave people somehow liking you more. You’re loyal, such a good girl for him, because you know you’re his.

His first impression of you was stereotypical. He pegged you to be another daft popular girl who has clawed her way to the top of the social ladder. Superficial and dumb, being able to use your looks for everything. His observations of people and their trends led him to assume, which he regrets. Somehow, you break the mold, everything he’s observed about social hierarchy out the window. It’s infuriating at first, because you’re just so nice- like god just made you out of a small piece of heaven. Fuck, and you’re so smart.

The first time you interrupted the professor in lecture to correct him (politely, of course- a sweetheart) he thought it was puzzling. You were puzzling. A challenge to figure out, to open up slowly and unravel. It started out innocently, just the sheer curiosity gnawing at him. You were a mystery, and he needed to satisfy that curiosity that was becoming more and more bothersome.

It’s easy to find your full name on the professor’s class roster, all he needed to do was pretend to have questions during office hours. The dimwit goes to get coffee and he’s able to sneak a peak at the list without disrupting anything on the desk. It goes perfectly. And one search on Instagram takes him to your page easily. Except it’s a good damn book dedicated Instagram. Irritating, honestly, but he applauds you for keeping your actual account private, which is the second account in the list of suggestions. It’s dumb that you can’t zoom in on profile pictures.

For now, he settled on lurking at the bookstagram, as you called it in the bio. Cute. That night at home instead of working on his other projects, he stayed up reading each of the long captions you’d written out reviewing each book you had read. Some of them he recognized as ones that were very popular, others were classics, some graphic novels, it was a rather eclectic mix of genres. He liked that. No non-fiction though, he made note. Interesting. He can’t blame you for that.

Once he worked his way through your page, he ends up ordering a few of the titles on Amazon. He’d usually opt for the library, which he used for some other titles you said you liked that he placed holds for. But to get started sooner, the two day shipping was a godsend. He figured he’d have one with him in class, keep it on his desk, carry it around campus with the cover outward, an attempt to catch your eye. Strike up a conversation, figure out something else about you.

He also found himself wanting to read some of these just because of how your posts made them sound. However, his main motive was to use them as a prop in an attempt to have an excuse to talk to you. He would lure you in to him, so he doesn’t have to go out of his way. It’s more natural this way. You’re the social butterfly, fluttering around being outgoing and sociable while he was the quiet one. The mysterious, reserved one. It makes more sense for you to reach out to start that first important conversation than him. And with a copy of a book you rated five stars in hand, he thinks it will work out just as he would like to.

He’d document your schedule as close as he could manage. Observe your daily routine, where you go, when. That way he can plan where he can run into you. Running to the campus coffee cart between classes for you to see him casually reading Madeline Miller or James Joyce or Ottessa Moshfegh or Fredrik Backman something else you’ve read that’s just popular enough to not make you suspicious.

Edward is very good at being invisible. It’s not even something he needs to try at. He’s gone his whole life being naturally ignored, dismissible. He can hide in plain sight as he marks down the time in his journal when you are leaving your third and last class of the day. He sits at the picnic benches outside the dining hall that are on the far side of the quad. From here, he can see almost all of the main campus. It also helps most of the building are comprised of large windows. He can watch you in your dorm building, right up to your floor until you disappear behind your door.

It’s up to him to imagine the rest of your routine as he walks back to his own dorm. The things you do when your doors are closed and you realize you’re alone again, your roommate spending the night with that quarterback boyfriend of hers.

He imagines everything. The way your backpack thuds and how you kick off your sneakers and leave them haphazard on the floor by the door. Your bra off in one fluid motion and tossed into your hamper without even having to look to see if it went in. You sit at your desk, and feed the pet fish you aren’t supposed to have. Naughty girl. You get started on your work right away. Getting the tedious chore out of the way so you can surrender yourself to your bed. Most people just give in to that temptation right away. Not you. You opt to sit incorrectly in your chair, and change from one obscure position after the other (that’s why your back hurts by the way, darling) until you’ve written your last discussion post and submitted the last paper. Then, you enjoy yourself. He imagines you might love your routines. He can put himself right there on the bed, paperback book folded in his hands that is ignored, because he’s so focused on you.

You’re someone whose routine involves a lot of walking back and forth. From the bathroom, to your dresser, to the bathroom again, to your vanity, to your closet, until you’ve successfully paced around the room enough times to spark the carpet. He’ll tease you, his own routine more carefully constructed and requires much less products- although he can imagine himself adding more once you share with him the things he should be doing.

You’ll walk around in your favorite little pair of pajama shorts- or better yet you might steal his boxers to sleep in. Paired with his shirt, and he’s enraptured with the way your chest strains the material. He thinks you’d look really cute with the towel wrapped around your hair fresh out of the shower, walking around the room brushing your teeth desperately looking for something that is never in the right place. Then the towel strewn over your desk chair and he watches intently as you care for your hair. And the way you apply lotion head to toe, and the way the sweet scent of it fills the whole room. You’d get shy when you finally notice he’s been looking at you. It’s so fucking cute. He can hardly stand not holding you when you look at him that way.

He’s probably screwed himself, not thinking about the side effects of using a scented lotion until after he’s finished, but he can’t even find it in him to care right now. His heavy breaths fill his room, and he needs to clean himself up. It’ll be fine. It was worth it, he thinks, to have something that smells like you to allow him to slip into his little fantasy. His whole room smells of strawberry and brown sugar, and he just wallows in the way the empty feeling in his stomach just makes him yearn for you. That time it all felt too fucking real.

His mind almost scares him, how the imagines he conjures up can become like memories. He knows they are a figment of his imagination, but sometimes that line between his false memories and his much more depressing reality becomes more and more blurred the more he dreams of you.

It finally happens the next time he’s outside having his lunch. He’s sitting under a tree in the quad, occasionally taking bites of his sandwich but the book he’s reading is taking up the majority of his attention. He’s gotten lost in the pages, and he doesn’t even remember the rest of the world exists until a shadow steps in front of the sun, blocking the light from hitting the pages he was engrossed in.

“I loved that book,” a voice says. He can hear the smile in your tone. You’re actually acknowledging his existence. He needs to give himself a pep talk before he can even bear to look up and face you.

“I o-only just started,” he says sheepishly, looking down- adamant on staring at a blade of grass in front of him.

“Cool,” you reply, “You need to tell me what you think of it, okay? See ya, Eddie.”

Eddie? No one in his life has ever called him Eddie. He detested being called Eddie until this exact moment. He hated the nickname, always thinking it was childish and demeaning. But not when you say it. It’s so sincere, and so nice the way the syllables fall off your lips. Just you. You are the exception to his disdain for it. He’ll be Eddie for you- your Eddie. Loyal, devoted, head over heels for only you Eddie.

He thinks about all the ways he wants to hear you call him that. In-between laughs, slapping his arm playfully when one of his jokes makes you laugh. A lighthearted chastising, your head tilted in skepticism as he tells you about all the elaborate plans he’s made for the future. A choked sobbed in surprise and excitement when he gets down on one knee. A breathy, whispered moan in his ear when he’s fucking you gently, pulling you apart, or a scream out in ecstasy when you’re begging him to let you cum- shit. He places the book on his lap, and pretends to check his phone while he waits for when he can get up. He groans at how painful it is, to not be able to have you now like how he wants.

It’s not like he makes it a habit to follow you. Sometimes, it’s a pleasant surprise when it happens all on it’s own. However, more often than not, it’s not up to chance. It’s a calculated, meticulous plan to execute the ideal rom com meet cute. You deserve that. The movie perfect romance where he, the right guy, magically is ushered in under quirky circumstances and somehow the meetings turn into feelings.

This is too Pretty in Pink, the god awful frat party in this huge house on campus. He still can’t believe he got in. But as luck would have it, roommate’s quarterback boyfriend needed a few passing assignments to keep from failing Calculus. And with that, Edward Nashton has somehow managed to score an invite to the biggest Halloween party of the semester- and of course, you’d be one of the many attendees. However, you don’t need an invite. You’re expected. These are your friends and you run in their circles. Also, any girl who shows up on this doorstep tonight is going to get in without a fret- no invite or name drop needed. He on the other hand needs to convince the two surly guys at the door he got an invite from their surly friend and after a while of back and forth they reluctantly let him in.

He’s elbow to elbow with tons of sweaty, gyrating strangers as he tries his best to navigate the house. The stairs, the hallways, every room is packed and the flashing lights also obscure his vision. There’s a deejay in the common room, the speakers blasting electronic music are making the floor vibrate. He is so out of his element, but he’s here for you. Because he’s a good boyfriend to you, and he goes places he doesn’t like but that makes you happy.

He’ll gladly hold your bags when you go shopping. He’ll think about everything you find important. Color, texture, finding the perfect things… he will wander with you for hours until you’re happy. He’ll absolve any worry. He will never tell you the rather poor shape of his finances at the moment, but it’s not important. Anything you want, he’ll let you just charge his card. You’re worth it.

Book stores. He knows how often you frequent them from the time you spend together, and the library- based on the barcodes on the pictures you post on your Instagram. He’s even got your card number memorized. He’ll bring you there, find a corner and just read together. You seem to be more into contemporaries, it will be a good balance. He tends to favor more classics himself but he’ll appease you and let you tell him about whatever book you just read- cover to cover, fuck spoilers. He just wants to watch the way talking about it excites you.

He hangs back, just resting his back against the wall. He still hasn’t seen you yet, but he’s content to wait, you too have all night. He watches as people dance and try to yell over the music. The flashes from cameras make his eyes hurt. He’s never observed a more self-absorbed crowd. They chug down whatever mystery concoction they have in their red cups and he hopes that you know better than to trust whatever is in there.

There’s puffs of smoke from a girl in leather pants and basically a top that might as well be a bra as she passes around a joint for her and her friends to share. It stinks up the whole house, and he just knows he’s going to reek of it. He looks down at his phone, trying to pretend he’s doing something. Anything to make himself look indifferent and not at all desperate and out of place. He’s not sure how well he’s doing.

You’re holding a can of something. You’re a smart girl to choose something here where you can break the seal yourself. You hold it in a way where your palm covers the open top as you let your friend weave the two of you through the crowd, giggling amongst yourselves. You look radiant when you’re like this. Happy and carefree from letting just a little bit of your inhibitions down. You work so hard, you deserve a little bit of fun. He just wished it wouldn’t be places like this. He doesn’t understand how everyone here can just keep to themselves when just you passing through the room disrupts the atmosphere. You smell like peach body mist, and it just hits him back against the wall when it wafts by him.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle as your friend drags you past. You offer him a friendly smile, and hold up your High Noon as a wave he thinks. Either way, he couldn’t care less. You look so beautiful, and you smiled at him. You’re happy because of him. You’re happy he’s here. His chest puffs up slightly in pride, and he can feel himself naturally stand up a little bit straighter.

“I finished the book,” he calls after you, instinctively reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to take out his copy- to give you his annotated copy. By some miracle, you hear him. He can see your eyes light up, and you signal to your friend to go on without you.

“Did you like it?” you ask excitedly, shouting over the music, leaning in closer to hear him. His breath catches in his throat and he’s not sure he can muster up enough air to answer. He finally manages out a yes, and you look confused- clear you can’t hear him. “Let’s go outside!” you say over the music and point towards the kitchen. He gulps and nods, following your lead.

Crowds just seem to naturally part for you, and your presence is met with hellos and other greetings. You smile, and acknowledge each person who acknowledges you and you just make it look so effortless. He trails behind you closely, trying hard to not stare. You push open the back screen door, and there’s a small back porch. You’ve clearly been here before. He wonders what has brought you back here. A fight, a messy breakup, just needing air, or maybe it’s the stress you must feel being so obligated to make appearances. Either way, it’s a special place, and he’s so honored you’re sharing it with him.

“Much better,” you note, the sounds of the party muffled. “So you liked it?”

“Y-yeah,” he fumbles trying to take the copy out of his coat. He somehow manages to hand it over to you. “I uh, thought you’d want to look through my notes.”

“Cool,” you smile, “Definitely. Thanks.” You tuck it under your armpit, opting to give him your full attention. “What was your favorite part? Ah, none of my other friends are readers and I’m desperate to talk to someone about it!”

His brain short circuits when you say the words ‘I’m desperate’ out loud and he pretends to clear his throat. You also said ‘my other friends’ which clearly implies Eddie is a friend. That’s it? That’s okay, he tells himself. Good girls like you go slow, and he knows that you’re worth it.

“I really loved- uh, I underlined it,” he begins, and gestures to the book. You hand it over and he mumbles a small thanks, pushing his glasses up. He flips through the tabbed pages, and searches until he finds the right page.

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

He looks up, and the way you are looking at him has him convinced you know. You know that quote pulled every single thought that he ever thought of you and put it there in black and white. The way he feels the tension between the two of you rise as a silent lull clouds gently over the two of you- like you’re the only two people here. Every painful reminder of the false memories he conjures feels like they are slipping away, and his mind is ready to make tangible ones with you- memories he can feel, and experience with all his senses.

“That’s one of my favorite passages too,” you muse, and he nods. He’s sure his face is as pink as your top that he’s just noticed how it fits so snugly around your chest just oh so perfectly- fuck are you even wearing a bra?

“Yea- uh..” before he’s able to even respond, the screen door creaks open and someone calls out your name. The interruption seems to startle you both slightly.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” the guy says poking his head out. Muscular, tall, backwards hat and a tank top with arm holes that almost reach the waist of his… ah, camo cargo shorts. Seriously, sweetheart, where do you even find these people? Oh, a mouth breather as well…

“No it’s okay, Chris, um,” you force a smile, and take a step back from him. Your attention now focused on the frat boy who looks like he’s trying his hardest to spark a thought by rubbing his two final brain cells together. “This is Eddie,” you say, introducing him, “We’re in a class together. We were just talking about a book we both read.” He purses his lips together and forces a closed lip smile toward this other person.

“Eddie, this is my boyfriend Chris.”

Boyfriend.

The large doofus has the audacity to just jerk his chin upwards as some form of acknowledging Edward’s existence, before he steps out onto the porch to press a kiss to your lips, and Edward feels like his entire world is just going to collapse in on himself at any moment.

How could you have a boyfriend? You made no attempt to see him these past weeks, or Edward would have seen. How could this major fucking road block not have reared it’s ugly head until now? You have a boyfriend, and it’s not looking like he’s going anywhere the way he’s snaking his arms around you from behind. You wiggle out of his grasp, not comfortable with the PDA which he can appreciate at least.

“Nice to meet you,” he manages to stutter out before sliding the book back into the inner pocket of his jacket. “I’m gonna be heading out soon anyways so-”

“It’s so early though!” you pout, “It’s too bad, but we’ll hook up at the next one, yeah?”

You have no idea how you’re able to take his breath away. It gets lodged in the back of his throat and he feels his cheeks redden. He knows what you mean, nothing sexual or physical by any means, but fuck- he could swear you do this on purpose. Your little innocent phrases with double meanings, and your suggestive stares, and just how fucking sweet you are.

“Y-eah, f-for sure,” he blushes, making his leave heading down the back stairs. He cuts across the back yard to his dorm building to call it a night.

You’re right that it was early, but there was no point in sticking around that cesspool of a house if you were just going to be tongue tied with that fucking guy for the rest of the night. He’d rather not see that. He needs to devise a new plan. A way for you to realize you’re wasting your time with this loser, and to realize that your Eddie has been there this whole time- patient and just ready to worship you if you only let him.

#edward nashton #Edward Nashton x reader #the Batman riddler #paul dano characters #Edward Nashton x reader smut #the riddler x reader smut #Edward Nashton x f!reader #tw: stalking #tw: dark fic #ed nashton #Ed Nashton x reader #Paul dano riddler #Paul dano riddler x reader #college au #reader insert

[gghalcyon]

Halcyon Echoes Vault

I'm Gigi (she/her) and I write fanfiction for various fandoms which you can check out at Ao3. I post and cross-post current obsessions here, along with stories I've written about my favorite characters. Requests are always open.

CALL OF DUTY (COD) STORIES

MULTI-CHAPTER

Textuals: König x F!Reader | Rated: Explicit | Chapters: P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7. | When König is away on missions, the only thing that tethers him to you is the text messages you exchange. These are the texts and memories tied to them ranging from romantic sweet nothings to mutual fantasies.

Fierce Hearts: König x F!Original Character | Rated: Explicit | Chapters: C1, C2, C3, C4, C5, C6. | König returns from the battlefield and back to civilian life, adrift and alone, until he meets Serene and find begin an unexpected romance.

ONE-SHOTS AND DRABBLE

Confession: König x F!Reader | Rated: Explicit | One-shot | König growled against the skin of your neck, and you shivered as he swept his lips from your shoulder to your ear and murmured, "You're perfection. Hot and eager just for me."

Love Me Rough: König x F!Reader | Rated: Explicit | One-shot | König gives you precisely what you want. Rough. Crazed. And everything in between. Until you are screaming his name.

The Floor Can Wait: König x F!Original Character | Rated: Explicit | One-shot | König loves spanking her, followed by a bath where she ends up on top, water splashing all over the bathroom floor as she rides him. The floor can wait.

My Sweet One: König x F!Original Character | Rated: Explicit | One-shot | König doesn't just lean in for a taste. No – he devours her until she sees stars. Then he calls her his Meine Süße (my sweet one).

A Promise Made: König x F!Original Character | Rated: Explicit | One-shot | König doesn't do one-night stands. "You are incredible," he whispered in her ear. "I can't wait to make you feel like this again." That was a promise.

NIGHTSHADE (F!OC) x KÖNIG

Nightshade's Character Profile: Original Female Character | Rated: General | My profile for my original female character named Gia "Nightshade" Matthews.

König Headcanon Character Profile: Headcannon | Rated: General | My head-canon profile of König, including his name, and how he looks underneath the mask.

MISC. FANDOMS STORIES

A Taste So Sweet: Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson | Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier | Rating: Mature | Words: Part 1/1 (2.3K Words) | Synopsis: Bucky Barnes gets a bewitching Halloween treat when Sarah Wilson appears at his doorstep, her face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Trick r’ treat!” she said, as their eyes met in a knowing.

The Sweetest Risk: Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson | Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier | Rating: General | Words: Part 1/1 (1.0K Words) | Synopsis: Bucky Barnes shoots his shot and finally ask Sarah Wilson on a date.

Delicious: Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson | Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier | Rating: General | Words: Part 1/1 (706 Words) | Synopsis: Bucky Barnes and Sarah Wilson go on a coffee date on a rainy day.

The Hit: Harley Quinn x Victor Szasz | Fandom: Gotham (TV) | Rating: Explicit | Words: Part 1/3 (7,757 Words) | AO3 Link | | Synopsis: How would Harley Quinn (Suicide Squad) fall in love with Victor Szasz (Gotham TV)? Here's how.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #könig x oc #g.g.halcyon #cod original character #original female character #f!oc #black f!oc #könig x f!reader #könig x you #könig x reader #könig smut #könig fanfiction #ao3 writer #gotham tv #batman #tfaws #bucky and sarah #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #sarah wilson/bucky barnes #harley quinn #victor zsasz x harley quinn #victor zsasz #victor zsasz smut

[cillianhead]

A New Pair of Glasses || Cillian Murphy x Reader

Part One! Part Two!

summary: When Y/N watches the Batman trilogy for the first time with her friends... she returns home to Cillian with a newfound sense of longing for a certain Dr. Jonathan Crane.

warnings: SMUT, DUBCON!, CNC themes!!!, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f and m receiving), analplay, FAKE DRUG USE! (Cillian gives reader a sugar pill and says it's a sedative (all consensual; reader is aware of the fact it's not a real sedative.)) minor alcohol use / drunk, age gap (reader is college age while Cillian is in his mid-to-late 40s), swearing, daddy kink, sir/doctor kink, breeding kink, praise kink, degradation, vulgar language, sort of a sugar daddy + sugar baby dynamic, slapping, roleplay, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, squirting, sex toys (dildo and vibrator), use of electric shocks for sexual pleasure (Cillian uses some sort of mild toy that zaps you), use of restraints, fake cheating scenario, sort of vague allusions that Cillian is gonna push her off a balcony but I'd like to stress the words VAGUE ALLUSIONS!! adult content ahead!!

LONG FIC ?!?!

(I wrote this while listening to Eat Your Young by Hozier :-))

18+ Minors DNI

"This your man?" Your friend Gabriel snickered as you all sat around eating popcorn and other various junk foods.

"Yeah... yeah..." You roll your eyes playfully before popping a few popcorn kernels into your mouth. You felt horribly flustered and hot despite the cold weather outside.

"Genuinely can't believe you've never seen these movies before," Your friend Mia, Sasha's girlfriend, remarks from the couch. The film was paused on a particular scene of Dr. Jonathan Crane with a gavel in hand. "Especially since your boyfriend is in it..." She said teasingly. "I can't believe he's your boyfriend!"

You just giggled and shyly smiled. You had binge-watched all the movies, and now you were on the last one. You couldn't express the emotions you were feeling right now. A deep carnal sensation was lighting you on fire within as they continued the scene. Though he was only in it for a short amount of time, you found yourself zoning out and fantasizing about Jonathan Crane and what it would be like to fuck him.

The movie ended, and by now, it was nearing midnight. You hadn't planned on staying the night at Sasha's, so you stood back up and collected your things. A driver was picking you up in about ten minutes, so you sat around with your three best friends and talked about your plans for the rest of the weekend and all that.

"What's your boyfriend up to?" Gabriel asked with a knowing smile on their face.

"Oh, he's gone to the pub to watch the footy with a couple of his buddies," You beamed. You couldn't explain it, but the idea of Cillian out and having fun with a couple of pints of Guinness in some little pub, having a blast, and laughing with his mates was unbelievably cute. It made you feel all blushy and dumb, the kind of dumb a schoolgirl would get at seeing her favorite charming teacher. "Not sure if he's home yet, and I haven't really wanted to bother him tonight. It's his first time seeing his friends in a while... since he and I are basically together all the time." You giggled, fiddling with the hem of your shorts.

"This is your first time seeing us in forever too!" Sasha squeeled with that laugh of hers, throwing a cushion at you.

"Ow, hey!" You pouted as you pretended to soothe your arm.

"You know it's true," Sasha sassed. "You two are joined at the hip... but we're not mad, we just miss you... but we're so happy for you and your sugar daddy- *cough* sorry, boyfriend." Sasha joked, and you all burst out laughing.

"He's not my sugar daddy..." You bit your lip, stifling the laughs ready to erupt from you. "I mean, like... he is... like that's how it first started, but he's more than that now..." You bit your tongue and rubbed your heel on the ground with a reclusive and cheeky smile. "I think I'm gonna marry him..." You grinned.

"Oh! You are not... we haven't even fucking met him!" Gabriel snapped, cackling. "Why can't we meet him?" "Oh, come on, I want you guys to meet him, and he wants to meet you... I'm just nervous..." You mused.

"What? Do you think he's gonna hate us?" Sasha asked while sipping her margarita that she bragged about being able to make herself.

"No... it's just..." You hesitated, looking down at your lap. "You guys are very different types of people. I think it's likely to clash in a strange and complicated way." Gabriel nodded their head understandingly. "Like you guys are gonna meet! But I just don't know exactly how... he's a very lowkey guy and likes quiet settings, whereas you guys... wanna go do something fun and exciting and a bit loud... and that's fine! I love both of those things... and Cillian's all weird and cute and awkward when he meets new people, especially in loud places..."

"Oh hush, we get it... we'll meet when the time is right," Sasha smiled. "As long as we meet before the wedding though, like-"

"Oh shit, my driver's here, I gotta go. He's been waiting for two minutes already..." You hurriedly got up and gave Gabriel and Sasha big hugs.

"Who are you with your private drivers?!" Sasha giggled before leaning on Gabriel with loving smirks.

"Bye!" You yelled before quickly rushing out the door with both your shopping bags from the day of shopping you had with your two mates.

You had met up for brunch, which turned into "a quick trip to the mall" to try on about fifteen different pairs of clothes in six other clothing stores. After that, you returned to Sasha and her girlfriend's place and hung out with the three of them for a while. Sasha's girlfriend was a massive nerd with posters of Evil Dead, Five Nights at Freddie's, Hatsune Miku, and many other fun, dorky things. It was when someone brought up Batman that Sasha's girlfriend, Mia, would begin to lose her mind. You both chatted about it, and she told you all about the different Batman villains and then subsequently mentioned The Scarecrow.

"That's Y/N's boyfriend!" Gabriel said as they took off their makeup in the mirror.

Sasha and Gabriel then had to explain to Mia that you were dating the actor who played the scarecrow in the Christopher Nolan Batman films. It was funny seeing Mia's reaction, and you talked a bit more until you mentioned that you hadn't seen them, and then they all decided on a movie night.

And now you sat in the back seat of a black car, leaning your head against the window. You were excited to see Cillian again. You had missed him all day. The streets were busy, full of people coming out of pubs. Everyone was watching the footy today, so it made sense that it was more crowded than usual. As you slowly pushed through traffic, you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of the busy streets and passing cars.

A few hours had passed and everything was quiet now.

"Y/N, honey, you're home," The driver gently shook you awake. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead." You smiled with your eyes closed at the older man and slowly slipped out of the car with your things.

"Thanks for waking me up, Jim," You said kindly. "Has Cillian already paid you for tonight?" "Yes, with a hefty tip as always," Jim croaked happily as he made his way back to the driver's seat. "You have a good night, Miss. Y/N."

"Thank you, drive safely, please!" You yelled as you unlocked the door to your shared home with Cillian. All the lights were off so you figured Cillian hadn't made it home yet.

You sighed and set down all your bags once you entered your bedroom. You got changed into one of Cillian's shirts and a pair of comfy sleep shorts and slipped your headphones on. You stood out on the balcony with a slight smile on your moonlit face. A cup of chamomile was cradled in your hands as you listened to soft music and waited for your beloved boyfriend to get home.

You couldn't stop thinking about him, though. Jonathan Crane had ravaged your mind. Just the thought of him made you squeeze a little. How he looked and acted, it was like every cell in your body was lit on fire with desire for the fictional character. Of course, the main reason you found him so sexy was because it was Cillian. But that was well over a decade ago now, and Cillian had aged beautifully since then. The thought of an older 'dilfier' version of Crane made you weak in the knees.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a familiar arm snaking its way around your waist and a loving kiss placed on your shoulder.

"Hey, darling," Cillian whispered as you pulled your headphones off. He held you in his arms and swayed you slowly. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you grinned, knowing he was probably a bit buzzed. "Missed you while I was out." "Mmm, yeah?" You hum, setting your tea down on the small glass table beside you before wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying with him softly. "How much?"

"So much," He slurred, pushing his face into your neck and groaning at your sweet smell. "Fuckin' thought about you all night long, even when me' team won." "Your team won?!" You exclaimed gleefully. "That's great, Cillian!" "Yeah, yeah," He shook his head with a blush on his face. "They won by a landslide." He was so cute when he blushed. "Oh, my lovely boy," You praised sweetly and leaned in, kissing him deeply. Cillian moaned into the kiss as his hands slid down to rest on your ass., giving it a loving squeeze. "I've been waitin' for you, Daddy." You whispered with a string of spit tying your lips together.

He snarled a bit at the nickname. "Oh yeah, baby?" He huffed with a one-sided grin. A smug look on his face as the dynamic immediately changed, and he pressed your back against the wooden railing with a sadistic smirk. "What you've been waitin' for?" He whispered gravelly in your ear, his hips pressed into yours to make you feel his hard dick through his trousers.

"I..." You trembled, mouth helplessly falling open with shyness.

"Was it my cock?" He hummed, fingers sliding up from your arm to grip your quivering jaw heavily. He slapped you across the face, but not enough to bruise, just to leave a constant sting. You whined, and another slap was given. "Tell me... baby... I know you can feel how fuckin' hard I am right now, so tell me all about how you're cunt is drippin' f'me." He grunted, letting go of your jaw and lining his hips up with yours with his palms roughly grappling at your ass to pull your barely-clothed pussy right against his fucking hard cock.

"Daddy..." You whispered breathlessly and helplessly. The way he was pushing you back against the balcony caused you to lean over the edge ever so slightly. It was frightening. You knew Jonathan- *I mean* Cillian would never push you off the balcony. But the thrill was enticing as he looked at you hungrily.

"Don't be coy with me now, little girl," Cillian smiled a toothy and mischievous grin. "I remember all the times you've had the mouth of a pornstar, spewing dirty t'ings for yer daddy," He pressed his nose into your neck, cupping the back of your head as he leaned you against the balcony.

"Please fuck me...." You gasped, grinding yourself on his erection. He groaned and grabbed you harder, this time away from the balcony and back inside. You were gripping his shirt feverishly, trying not to fall over. He pushed you down onto the bed with a grunt and kicked his socks and shoes off before undoing his belt and ripping off his top layers. "Oh, daddy..." You whispered, spreading your legs open as you pulled your shorts down and your thong with it. Cillian leaned down, grabbed your black thong, and raised it to his nose and mouth, smelling it like a feral dog.

"Fuckin' hell," He exhaled before dropping to his knees before you, at eye level with your wet pussy. "I'm so hungry..." He nipped your inner thighs, slowly lowering closer to your heat.

"Please... eat me... Daddy, oh my god," You mewled as you raised your pussy to his drooling mouth and tongue. "Fuck, oh!" You exclaimed as you arched your back, digging your fingers into his hair and pressing his face into your cunt. He ate you up like a cornucopia of fruit and slurped you up with his tongue.

"S'good," Cillian groaned, muffled by your cunt in his mouth. Your arousal and his spit dribbling down his pretty chin, his eyes looking desperately up at you, as you rest back on your arms and cry with euphoria.

"Oh... Cill.... oh... daddy..." You moaned, hair spread across your face and mouth. You were too lost in the pleasure. Slowly rutting your pussy into his face, head lolling from side to side with the dizziness of your impending orgasm. "Gonna cum... baby... gonna cum..."

"Give it t'me," Cillian grunted, eyes fluttering shut as he focused his tongue particularly on your throbbing clit; occasionally slipping it down to lap at your soaking cunt. His nose was pressed into your mound, hardly breathing, too focused on the sweet euphoria of eating your pussy. In his usually busy and complicated mind, his brain had now gone radio silent, and it was exactly like he was high. You were a drug to him. You came undone, gushing into his awaiting mouth.

Your eyes rolled back into your brain, loud mewls as you fell back onto your shoulders and gripped at the sheets. You were near to tears with how good he ate you out. As he lapped up your sweet cum, you writhed, squeezing your thighs around his head and fingers tugging painfully hard on the roots of his hair.

"Okay, Cillian..." You exasperated, panting heavily. "That's enough." He pulled away like a slobbering dog, cum and saliva making a string of spit on his chin and your sopping cunt.

"Fuck me, baby..." He whispered, pupils blown wide like he had taken ecstasy. "You taste so good..." He hummed as he crawled up to you and kissed you hard, tasting yourself on his stroking tongue. His cock was out by now, painfully hard and ready to be stuck in your cunt. "Please let me fuck you now..." He said breathily against your lips. "Please..."

"Daddy... please... need you inside me," You bit your lip as the tip of his cock nudged your clit. "Don't tease me..."

"Course not, darlin'," He mumbled deeply, right by your ear as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his waist. "Why would I tease my darling girl?" He pressed himself fully into you, making you go cross-eyed.

"Ooohh..." You mewled softly. The air had been knocked out of your lungs. It felt like you would explode in the most beautiful way possible. His cock was snug against your cervix, every ridge of him pressing against your hot and wet walls. You shut your eyes, shaking as he began pulling out of you slowly before jutting back into you.

"Best fuckin' pussy," He growled, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Best one I've had..."

"You're mine," You gasped out, drunk on his cock already. You reached out and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him into a teeth-clashing kiss. "All mine, daddy." You pressed your heel into his lower back as you pulled away from the kiss to look at his face above yours. You looked up at him with your dizzy eyes and lips spilling out drool, desperate to hear him say the words you had on your mind.

"I'm all yours, Y/N," He panted, fucking you roughly and desperately. You went at it like rabbits, desperate to be bred. "I'm yours... forever..." He connected his soft lips to yours and made you fall in love all over again as you made out. He was still a bit drunk, and he usually came a bit quickly when he was but you didn't mind.

"You gonna cum in me?" You moaned, rocking your hips against his. His hands slid up and cradled you by your ribcage as he manhandled you to seamlessly get speared by his cock.

"Y-Yeah, course," He panted, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of you. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." "That's it, Daddy," You moaned, reaching up and pulling on his hair as you kissed him. His cum instantly squirted into you as you squeezed around him and danced your tongue against his. "Fuck, feels so good... fill me up..." You mewled, pressing yourself against him as your orgasm washed over you too.

Cillian was silent, face pressed into the side of your cheek with his mouth agape in quiet moans, his veins popping out of his forehead. "Oh baby girl, oh fuck..." He whispered, all whiny, into your ear. He still pathetically rutted his hips into you, filling you with as much cum as possible.

Drool fell down your chin as you convulsed in his arms. He quickly pulled off of you, not wanting to become overstimulated, and you still lay there, writhing a bit as your orgasm slowly dissipated. Cillian pressed a flush kiss to your warm cheek, laying on his side and wrapping you up in his big arms.

"You did so good for me, baby," Cillian whispered sweetly as you blinked slowly at him. "Such a good girl, knows how to take cock so well," He smiled at you knowingly, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Cillian..." You hummed with a sleepy smile. "Get me some underwear please... don't want to lose any of your cum..."

Cillian smirked, quickly getting up and rushing to your drawer where you kept all your panties and other lingerie items. He picked out a baby pink pair of panties and brought them over to you, sliding it slowly up your legs and getting a glimpse of your creamy pussy.

"How pretty, a little bow..." He chuckled, fiddling with the white bow at the top of your underwear. Cillian crawled into your shared bed with you. He pulled you into his arms, and you lay there with happy smiles, getting warm from the covers. You lie in comfortable silence for a while, nuzzling your heads together and cherishing the feeling of having your bodies together again. It felt healing. It truly felt like you had found your other half. You knew you had.

"Do you need a glass of water or anything?" Cillian asks with that lovely Irish accent of his.

"No, it's okay, just need you to hold me, Cill... I'm tired," You whispered with a smile, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "I need your arms around me to feel sane..." "Such a poet," Cillian snickered, kissing your forehead and pulling you closer. "What'd you get up to today, sweet t'ing?" He asked, running his fingertips gently up and down your back. It was almost ticklish.

"Well, the brunch was really nice with Sasha and Gabby," You recalled softly, fingers fiddling with the chain around his neck. "Then Sasha wanted to go get something from the mall.... so we went to the mall, and I did some shopping too... while I was there."

"Oooo... shopping? Tell me whatcha got, love." Cillian cooed excitedly, wriggling with anticipation. Cillian had given you a credit card with a pretty high limit, paid by his money. He was pretty much entirely financially supporting you. You felt terrible at first, but you realized quickly that he got off on the idea of you spoiling yourself with his money. So you'd treat yourself to nice things while treating him to very nice things simultaneously. Pretty much every shopping trip, you'd buy something sexy for Cillian to rip off of you. "Did ya get me anythin'?" "Mhm," You whispered, poking his chest knowingly. "Can I see it?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Nope, not until tomorrow..." You smirked, pecking him on the lips. "I want to keep you on your toes."

"Alright, woman, whatever you please... just as long as I see ya in it..." Cillian chuckled, nudging your nose with his. He enjoyed it when you showed off what you bought, especially the clothes. He'd make you do a little fashion show in his living room. "What else did ya do?" "Oh, then we went back to Sasha's place..." You trailed off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. "Had a bit of dinner... then we just watched some movies." You smiled while Jonathan Crane's face flashed inside your head.

"What movies did you watch?" He asked curiously, fingers twirling your hair around it. He could see you were quickly becoming flustered but he wasn't quite sure why. "What? What is it? What did you watch?" He laughed.

"We watched... we watched..." You giggled, leaning in and pressing your face into his chest. "The Batman movies..." You snickered, rolling around and laughing wildly. Cillian had a stunned and amused look on his face as he watched you wriggle around and laugh your lungs out.

"The ones I'm in, ya mean?" He asked, chuckling a bit with a red face. He was worried you were laughing at him. "Y-Yes!" You said with a loud laugh. You were laughing because of how fucking sexually attracted you are to him as Jonathan Crane. There was something so sexy about him as this cunning, tricky little Batman villain. "Oh my god..." "I didn't think I did too bad in those films..." He whispered bashfully, looking down at his lap a bit self-consciously. "Did yer friends also think it was silly?" Your laughing quickly dissipated as you realized Cillian had taken your laughing the wrong way. You quickly sat up and scooted closer to him with wide eyes. "No, no, no... I'm not... I'm not laughing at it... Cillian... you were brilliant... they're fuckin' brilliant films... it's just..." You trailed off, biting your lip as you giggled a bit more thinking about Jonathan Crane.

"It's just what?" He asked, still with a disappointed and sad look in his eyes.

"You were so...." You whispered, pressing your face into his chest and laughing into his warm skin. "He's so hot!" You blurted out.

"What?" He laughed, thinking you're talking about Christian Bale.

"Cillian," You sat up, looking him directly into his eyes, and he could tell you were seriously about to say to him how sexually attracted you were to Batman. "You as the scarecrow... as Dr. Jonathan Crane... fuuuuuccckk..." You rolled your eyes back into your head, teeth tightly clenching down on your bottom lip.

"O-Oh!" Cillian smiled, face growing red for many different reasons and eyes lighting up. "You really thought so?"

"Cillian, I want to fuck him so bad," You gasped, pressing your nose into his face.

"It's funny how yer referring to me as him," He laughed, wrapping you up in his arms. You were both more in a sitting position now, looking at each other's grinning faces.

"No, like... obviously... it's you... and that's mainly why I find Jonathan so sexy... but just the way... you played the character... he's so fucking convincing and so attractive... like... I want him."

Cillian raised a brow before kissing you softly. "Well, y'have me..."

"I know, baby... I don't want anyone else but you," You reassured sweetly. "Just think the characters you play... are so handsome... want them all to fuck me..."

Cillian blushed, kissing you again, this time a little longer and sloppier. Eventually, after you two managed to pull off each other, you brushed your teeth side by side, and Cillian watched you wash your face and moisturize. You'd then turn to him and ask to put some on him, and he would hesitantly let you, all while pretending to not enjoy the attention.

Falling asleep was easy in Cillian's arms. Ever since you met him, every night without him was sleepless. There was just nothing quite like having him hold you. You had passed out, unbeknownst to Cillian, reaching his arm out for his phone and quickly ordering some things online and then lying back down with you again to sleep with a smug smirk on his face.

In the late morning, you two woke up around the same time. Cillian woke up only a few minutes before you did. He watched you beautifully sleep.

"Good mornin'," He grumbled with that morning voice of his. "How'd you sleep, sleeping beauty?"

"Oh, hush," You shook your head, covering your face as you rubbed your eyes. "I feel like I look like an ogre," You laughed, sitting up a bit. "I slept amazing... as usual... how about you, my lovely man?" You reached out, stroking along his stubbled jaw.

"Perfectly fine," He nodded, sitting up with you, sheets barely covering his naked manhood. Your hands slipped the sheets from his pelvis to reveal his morning wood. "Mmm... didn't say you could do that..." He smirked, eyes watching as you lowered your face down to kiss his hard cock.

"Love you so much, just wanna make you feel good..." You mumbled as you fit the tip in your mouth. You wrapped your fingers around the base as you sucked on his leaky tip.

"Fuckin' hell," Cillian sighed, throwing his head back as you teased him. And then you fully sank your mouth down on his cock until his thick head was prodding at the back of your throat. "That's it, love... I love you so much... you're so fuckin' good to me."

You hummed around his cock as he lazily lay there and enjoyed the feeling of your mouth on him. You slowly sucked him to the brink of cumming, popping off of him right before the climax.

"Why'd you stop?" He whined, reaching to grab a hold of his cock, but you quickly swatted his hand away. "Hey!"

"You're not allowed to cum," You stated simply, not elaborating any further.

"What? Why?" He laughed incredulously. He kept trying to reach for his erection, but you smacked his hand away every time.

"You're just not," You looked at him stubbornly. "Not until later. I want to show you something really cute and slutty I got for you yesterday... and I want you to be absolutely desperate..." Cillian groaned out of frustration. "Fine, if that's what it takes to make my girl happy," He reached a hand up and stroked your hair affectionately, yet with a sense of irritation.

"And don't even think about trying anything in our shower," You murmured as you both got up and wandered into your shower. "You can't get yourself off."

"So goddamn bossy," Cillian grumbled teasingly as you turned on the hot shower, and both stood underneath it. Cillian was in agony with his throbbing cock. And it didn't help that you stood right against one another. The hot water and your ass pressing against him was nearly enough to make him burst without even doing anything. You knew what you were doing to him.

The shower was long and tiring, and eventually, Cillian's dick softened on its own, but that didn't deny the sexual frustration within him. Cillian made the two of you breakfast, and you ate with a smug smirk on your face.

"Gotta run some errands today, love," Cillian hummed while chewing his scrambled eggs. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Oh, can I come with?" You asked with your head perked up.

"Actually, could you stay home?" He asked while cutting his food to take another bite. "I have an important package coming later that needs to be signed for... plus it's just boring stuff anyway, just some meetings and all that stuff you don't care about."

"Oh, okay! That's alright," You smiled, your plate now cleared. "I'll stay here."

Cillian got ready while you sat on the lounge, watching your favorite show. Cillian hurriedly walked into the living room and sat down beside you. You paused the TV and looked at him with a sad smile.

"I'm gonna miss you while you're out," You whispered, kissing him softly on the cheek. "You not shaving?" You hummed when you noticed he still had some stubble lining his jaw.

"I know, baby love," He murmured, his hand caressing your thigh. "Nah, I think I'm gonna grow out my beard a lil'... I'm gonna be gone for a little while... probably won't be back until this evening..."

"Oh..." You frowned, pouting at him as he placed his hands on either side of your face.

"Don't worry," He whispered, pecking you softly on your pouty lips. "You've got a gift comin' today," He hummed, and you raised your eyebrows curiously. "It's a little treat from me. You can go on and open it without me. I know how impatient you can get..."

"Really?" You said ecstatically. "Thank you, Cillian... I'm sure I'm gonna love it." You reached out and wrapped your arms tightly around him.

"Oh, you will," He whispered into your ear. "You're gonna really fuckin' like it."

You and Cillian shared one last loving kiss as you walked him to the door. You watched him go with a longing sigh before turning around and wondering what you were gonna do for the day. Cillian never specified when your gift was showing up.

For a while, you bundled up on the couch and watched some more TV, but eventually, you grew restless and wandered into your bedroom and tried on your new set of lacy white lingerie. You look angelic in the most sinful way possible. You planned on acting all submissive and obedient for Cillian tonight, and you wanted to look everything pure and innocent for your daddy. The lace and tight straps hugged you beautifully and exemplified your curves. The back of it was just one thin G-string sitting between your ass... And, of course, two baby pink bows strapped on either side of your hips. Not to be despite the thin lace front where you could easily see your pretty wet pussy through.

The top piece of the set was a small white corset laced up with bows and soft, sweet velvet. The busk straps on either side of your darling shoulders were adorned with cute patterned lace and tiny little bows... and made your tits look fucking amazing. Oh, you were adorable and simply undeniably fuckable-looking. His cock would look at you before even his eyes had, and before he knew it, his cocks got a brain, and it's leading him straight to you.

A soft garter belt attached to the tops of your translucently cotton stockings that went up to your thighs. Everything was perfect and handmade and expensive. So you decided to just keep it on and surprise him like this when he gets home. While you pranced around the living room, sipping your freshly made tea. A sweet milky early grey, soothing your inner qualms and exciting you even more at the thought of Cillian coming home.

It was around 2 PM now, and you figured Cillian wouldn't be home for another couple of hours, so the distinct sound of Cillian's car coming up the driveway made you frown. What happened? You were worried something terrible happened and didn't bother putting any clothes on since you knew it was just Cillian. A knock at the door made you frown and pause in your footsteps.

"Delivery!" Cillian yelled with an American accent. You giggled, thinking it was just him messing around, and so you quickly unlocked the door to the most shocking sight.

Cillian stood there in a nice slimming suit, the same kind that Jonathan Crane wore. And the sight of his hair styled how it was in Batman, and the classic glasses and briefcase clutched in hand, you felt like you were going to pass out.

"My... what a skimpy little outfit you've got on, sweetheart," He grumbled, lifting up a tiny little teal-colored Tiffany&Co gift bag with a little note that said 'From Cillian, xxx' and you realized that was his gift. "Ran into your cute boyfriend... by the way."

"What do you mean, Cillian?" You whispered, taking tiny steps back as he walked slowly and creepily towards you until your back hit the wall.

"I know we may look similar..." He whispered, grabbing you roughly by your chin. "But I think you know exactly who I am," He said raspily into your ear. His American accent sends you into overdrive. "Cillian... huh... well, he's not here right now, Ms. Y/N." He growled, grabbing ahold of one of your tits through your lingerie.

"Wh-Wha..." You couldn't comprehend what was happening. Cillian was doing such a convincing act at being Jonathan Crane it made you forget it was actually him.

Jonathan grabbed a hold of you, and you hit and squealed as he threw you over his shoulders. Fuck, he was so strong. He placed a harsh smack on your ass and shoved you roughly down onto the bed so you were looking up at him. His hair is a bit messed up now, and his glasses sitting lowly on his nose. It really was him, you had convinced yourself. It's Jonathan Crane.

"Too bad your little boyfriend's not gonna see what I'm gonna do to you," He growled as he tugged a bit on your underwear, pulling you into a sitting position. "Let's say... Cillian and I had a little deal, and this was my end... of the bargain per se.... think I know a better way to treat this sickness of yours..."

"Where is Cillian...?" You asked with quivering lips. He stood with two legs slotted in between your bare ones. He was even wearing a different cologne, and you noticed he had shaved to look younger.

"Oh baby, you don't wanna know," He smirked, briefly brushing your cheek before placing his black briefcase beside you on the bed. "Your boyfriend mentioned some concerns about your well-being, so he sent me here to check on you..." Jonathan had a smug smirk on his face as he unlocked his briefcase, pulling out a small packet of pills. "Now, I'm here to make you feel better..." He popped out a pill and placed it in the palm of his hand. "Open wide, princess..." He mused.

"Wha-What is it?" As you hesitantly opened your mouth and let him place the small white pill right on your tongue. He leaned down and had his mouth right next to your ear.

"Just a sugar pill," Cillian whispered in his Irish accent again. "Pretend it's a sedative... you can always say the safe word at any time, angel. I love you." He placed a kiss against your cheek before pulling away with that cold demeanor of Jonathan Crane again. You dry swallowed the pill. "That's a good girl," He hummed, shutting his briefcase. You caught a glimpse of a rather large dildo and a few other sex toys. "You'll feel real good in about ten minutes. Now I want you to get nice and spread out for me so I can fuck you."

You scrambled back up onto the bed and spread your legs wide open with trembling lips. "But... I have a boyfriend... you're not my boyfriend..."

"No, sweetie," He shook his head, chuckling as he kicked off his shoes and undid his coat. "But your stupid boyfriend doesn't have to know a thing about what happens tonight."

"N-No..." You shut your legs and quickly got out of the bed to run.

"Oh no, you fucking don't," He barked, grabbing you by your ankle and pulling you back towards him like you were just a sack of meat. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to tie you to the bed if you're even gonna think about trying to get away from me."

"Jonatha-"

"Doctor or sir to you, bitch," He slapped you harshly across the face and pulled out ankle and wrist restraints. "Get in position, don't make me force you."

"Yes, sir..." You said with your eyes down and crawling up the bed to be in a position where you could be tied up. Jonathan firmly put the cuffs on your ankles and your wrists, chaining you to the bed frame from both sides. "Please don't hurt me..."

"Please don't hurt me," He mocked in a high-pitched voice. "I'm gonna do whatever I please to you." He hissed, pulling your ass into his clothed cunt. "How cute you wore this for your boyfriend... so pathetic." "He... He likes them..."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," He cackled his menacing laugh. "Too bad he's never gonna see you in it. Think I'm gonna have to keep you for myself." "What do you mean?" You whimpered, pulling a bit at your restraints.

"It's just gonna be me and you for now, baby... your boyfriend's not comin' back... what a shame..." He unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. You tried your best to pull away from him as he crawled on top of you but you couldn't go very far with your limited mobility.

"Fuck... I think... I think the medicine is kicking in..." You whined as you felt Jonathan pull down your panties but kept everything else in place. He wanted to fuck you with your cute skimpy lingerie on. Cillian had truly put himself in the mindset of this character as he pulled his cock out and grabbed at your thighs roughly. Your eyes drooped a bit but Jonathan quickly snapped you out of it by shoving his cock in you harshly.

"Bet you're still full of his cum, aren't you?" Jonathan grunted as you squeezed around him, unbelievably wet. "What a fucking whore."

"Doctor... please..." You cried, thrusting your hips up into him. "Please don't do this... this isn't right.. my... my... boyfriend... will find out-"

"Oh shut the fuck up," He spat, fucking you like you were just some fleshlight. "You're mine now, slut... gonna fuckin use you for all my experiments and fuck you while you're cowering in fear under my toxins."

"Pl-Please..." Tears slipped out from your eyes. "I'm not on the pill... please stop..." You lied and pulled at your restraints, trying to get free.

"Oh fuck, even better," He moaned. "Gonna get you pregnant and show your loving boyfriend what we fuckin' did... he'll see what an easy slut you are..." Jonathan's voice was cold and mean, but it made you moan so much louder and shake with pleasure as you came around him. "Told you so... look at you cumming already on my dick when I just put it in you."

"N-No..." You whimpered, tears streaming down your face. That only made him fuck you harder and deeper into you. He was getting off on your crying. "Please... you can't..." Your body had gone limp at this point. He showed no signs of stopping, fucking your spasming cunt.

"Poor little thing," He ran his thumb sweetly over your wet cheeks with a smug smirk. "Pretending like you're not just some cum-hungry slut."

You mewled and fought against your restraints as he somehow managed to make you cum again. You were so fucking turned on that your body gave in to the pleasure so easily and quickly. "Too much... too much... sir..." You wailed, trying to shut your legs, but that only made him pin those down as he continued fucking you. You thought about how you had edged Cillian earlier, so you imagined that this probably was his revenge.

"Go on and take my cum then, whore," Jonathan groaned as he spurt cum deep inside of you, further intensifying your orgasm. Jonathan grunted ferociously, cum filling you to the brim as he shook with the pleasure he was experiencing.

"Oh..." You squeaked, shutting your eyes as you twitched.

He pulled out of you, squirting a bit more cum out onto your swollen clit and watching it drip down and meet the rest of your sperm-filled hole. Jonathan seemed pleased with his creation as he slipped his fogged-up glasses off and wiped them clean before sliding them back on.

"Doctor...." You whispered, heaving as he stood up and undid your restraints. "Thank you..." You whispered, rubbing your sore ankles and wrists. "Pl-Please don't tell my boyfriend about this." Jonathan scoffed and rolled his eyes as he tucked his cock back into his underwear.

"I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart," Jonathan whispered, leaning in and biting your neck. You whimpered and grabbed ahold of him as he left marks on your neck.

"No! Don't mark... don't mark me..." You tried to pull him off of you, but he wouldn't budge. It only made him bite you harder. "Jonathan... he'll see..."

"Good, I want him to see what a nasty slut you are," He growled, biting down harder.

You shoved him off of you and, with no underwear on, ran down the hall to get away from him. But you heard footsteps pounding down the hallway after you ominously, not at a very fast pace.

"Oh, you can run, but you can't hide sweetheart," He chuckled as he slowly walked around and acted as if he couldn't see you hiding behind one of the floor-length curtains. The tops of your feet poked out from underneath. "Hmm... where'd you go? I won't hurt you." It was creepy how convinced you were it was anyone other than your Cillian. In a way, you were truly horrified of him finding you. His American accent remains steady and strong.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt a hand wrap tightly around your arm and yank you out of your horrible hiding spot. "Stupid little girl... trying to hide from me..." He looked pissed as he dragged you to the center of the living room, where he shoved you down on your knees. "I have an idea..." He smirked, a glimmer of mischief flickering through his cold eyes. "Let's see what your sweet little daddy got you... hmm? Stay here on your knees... or I swear to fuckin' god..." He said through gritted teeth before sauntering off in only his underwear and glasses.

When he returns, it's with that familiar Tiffany&Co bag clutched in his hands. "How generous of your daddy to buy this for you... too bad he's not here to put it on you..." Jonathan hummed as he opened the gift for you.

"D-Don't... it's not... it's not yours..."

"You're right, sweetheart," He smirked before tearing open the bag, and a small box came out, the same shade of teal. He opened the package as he towered over you, your knees aching from digging into the hardwood floors. Your eyebrows knitted together as he pulled out a delicate silver chain and the most beautiful pendant you'd ever seen. "Lift your hair up for me, baby girl," Jonathan leaned down as you lifted up your hair and clasped the chain around your neck. It sat perfectly along your collarbones, and the bright ruby stood out against your complexion beautifully. "Does it look nice on me?" You asked quietly, noticing Jonathan's cock straining against his briefs once again.

"Yeah, you look nice and pretty," He grunted, pulling down the waistband of his shorts and began fisting his cock at the sight of you. "Too bad he's not here to see you right now, hmmm?" He moaned a little as he stroked his cock, quickly slapping you across the face with it before pressing it against your lips. "Suck."

Hesitantly you opened your mouth, and without much warning, he thrusted his hips until his cock hit the back of your throat. One of his hands held your hair in a messy ponytail while also pushing you up and down on his dick. He looked at you with that sickening smile, glasses drooping low on his nose, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"Fuck, that's it," He huffed out, fucking your head like it was just a mere toy to him. "Now I see why he keeps you around..." He sighed, tossing his head back and thriving in the feeling of your lips wrapped around his sensitive cock. "You're a good little cocksucker... that's your use."

Tears fell with every quick blink you gave him, eyes stinging from the saltiness. With every thrust into your throat, you'd gag, and more tears would fill the brim of your eyelids. You were viewing the most delicious view of his stomach and chest as well as the muscular bicep holding your head in place.

"Gonna cum all over your pathetic little face," Jonathan grunted with absolutely no concern for how you were doing. Of course, you could always give him three quick taps on the hip to say that's enough, but you never did. You loved being treated like this. "Bet you're getting off on this, aren't you slut?" You blinked your eyes up at him to signal yes. "That's what I thought, so then you know your purpose... what a good fucktoy Murphy's got..." He howled as he started to reach his peak. "Gonna cum down your throat... swallow every fuckin' drop."

You pressed your tongue against his shaft, really wanting to milk him good. You felt the familiar sensation of hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat. You gulped it down gratefully as he slowly pulled out, filling your mouth with cum, entirely pulling his cock out of your mouth to squirt all over your face. "Let's not forget..." He whispered, aiming it down onto your pretty little ruby necklace.

"O-Oh..." You coughed out, sticky with his cum, some dripping from the tip of your nose.

"Aren't you gonna thank me for your treat, slut?" He asked, slapping you across the face with the back of his hand. "Go on, thank me."

"Th-Thank you... Doctor..." You gasped out, feeling small spurts of cum dripping down your tits and onto your corset. Good thing it was already white.

"That's it, so polite," Jonathan grinned, raising you from your knees to your feet. "Look how wet you are..." He ran two fingers along your wet slit. You looked up at him with parted lips. His other hand wiped his cum from your face with his fingers before shoving into your open mouth. He smirked at the sight of your pretty new necklace covered in his cum.

"Sir..." You whimpered with pouted lips. "Please touch me more..." He pushed you into the couch, and you heard your hands being cuffed behind your back and a slight slap to your ass. "Wh-Why are you cuffing me?" Your voice trembled.

"Because you won't be able to handle what I give you next."

Shudders went down your spine as he pressed you down into a perfect arch, arms snugly tucked against your lower back. You heard him searching through his briefcase and then a tiny little zap! to the back of your thighs. "Ow!" You winced, jumping away.

"Oh darling, that was only the first setting," Jonathan snickered and got on his knees behind you, and you could look at him now from this angle despite it being a bit upside down. "You poor thing..." He cooed in faux sympathy.

"Wh-What're you gonna do to me, doctor?" You whispered, eyes wide as he placed a pink dildo within your line of sight.

"Gonna see how much you can take," He hummed simply, holding a small bottle of lube in one hand. Your eyes widened even further and you started shaking your head.

"No, no, no!" You tried to wiggle away from him but he grabbed a hold of your hips and pushed you into an even more intense and vulnerable position. Both your holes on display for him now.

"Don't worry, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing..." He mused, lube-covered fingers now drawing circles around your asshole. "Breathe in for me, darling," He pressed two fingers into you, and you cried softly into the couch cushions, pussy gushing out pools of arousal and Crane's cum that was still inside of you. His fingers slowly stretched you out until you were ready to take the fake cock he was about to give you that he had already lubed up.

"Fuck... Jonathan..." You mewled as he slowly pressed the head in, gauging you for your reactions to make sure you were alright. "Oh god..." The thing was nearly fully sheathed inside of you.

"Fuck... look how amazing that is..." He whispered in awe, pushing the last of it until you were full to the brim with the toy. "Ready for the next part, love?" You heard a bit of an Irish accent come out in that question, which made you giggle. He quickly cleared his throat. "Cause I don't think you are." There was the American again.

"Oh god..." You whined, drool falling out of your mouth and your tits beginning to slip out from your corset. You heard a light buzzing of a vibrator coming from behind you which was quickly slipped inside of you and placed precisely on your g-spot. "Oh! Fuck! Turn it down... it's too much... ouch!" You squealed as he tased you on the hip again.

"Shhh... I'm just seeing the power that pleasure has over the body," Jonathan hummed as he put the rest of the small baby pink vibrator on your clit, which really crossed the line of overstimulation. Jonathan gripped the fake-cock in your ass and slowly pressed it in and out of you. You stood on your tippy toes, trying to get away from the pleasure and the pain of it all. "Look at you... how pathetic... and dirty. Bet you rarely let him use your little ass like this," He growled as he harshly thrust it back into you. Your moans were nearing screams at this point. "See, that's the thing about me and him... he'll do whatever you'll tell him to do, but you see... I don't get told what to do, especially not by a stupid little cumsock like you."

"I"m not a cums-"

Zap!

He moaned at the sound of your cries, tears slipping down your face again as he turned the vibrator up another setting. It was simply too much, and your mind was beginning to slowly cave in on itself. The vibrator is placed perfectly on your clit, and g-spot, and it was becoming harder and harder to bear. Your body shook, and your mind went truly blank as an unexpected orgasm hit you. Jonathan laughed sadistically as he turned the taser on and zapped you as you started to cum. You screamed in agony and from the electric pleasure, he held that there for a moment until it left a mark and then pulled it off of you.

"So fucking pretty," Jonathan praised, kissing your ass cheek. "This is all you're good for," He pressed the fake-cock further into your ass, and you mewled as you felt yourself squirt involuntarily. This was one of the longest orgasms you've ever had. You fought against the handcuffs, and tears were falling down your face as you soaked Jonathan's face behind you.

"St-Stop... too much..." You sobbed, writhing in overstimulation. Jonathan, with a wet face, slowly pulled the dildo out of you and placed it to the side. "Fuck..."

Once he had removed the vibrator, you relaxed, collapsing to your knees and burying your face into a couch cushion to muffle your crying. "There, there, Y/N," Jonathan hummed, undoing your restraints and pulling you into him. He held you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear with that unnerving American accent.

"Can... can I have Cillian back now?" You asked quietly, shaking a bit in his lap, pussy still gushing out fluids onto his thighs. He laughed softly and took off his wet glasses, setting them down on the coffee table.

"You need yer daddy?" Cillian asked. There was that lovely Irish accent again. "I'm right here, love." You smiled, pressing your face into his neck. "I love you so much, Daddy." You whispered, appreciating the warmth of his body against yours.

"I love you, baby," He hummed, covering your face in tiny kisses. "Let's get you cleaned up and then we'll get comfy in bed, yeah? Maybe order somethin' in?"

"Mhm..."

Cillian picked you up bridal style and carried you into your bathroom, where he sat you down on the bathtub's edge and carefully undid all the clasps of your lingerie. "So pretty, you did so good for me... love," Cillian praised.

After waiting for the bath to fill with hot water and once you and Cillian were fully undressed, you got in with a tired sigh. You felt exhausted and so overstimulated. So together, you lay in a hot bath that made you feel like you were in the womb again with Cillian's arms holding you like you were going to leave him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you nestled yourself closer to him, burying your face in his familiar chest. He stroked your wet hair, kissing the crowns of your head.

"Oh, baby girl..." He whispered deeply. "You did so good for me... made me feel so good..."

"Mmm... I know," You mumbled, ears pressed to the sound of his beating chest. The rhythm of his beloved heart was lulling you to sleep. "You made me so good... made me feel so good..." You agreed dopily.

Cillian cooed at you, cupping your jaw with his hand as he made you look up at him. "Oh, sweetheart... are you okay? Did I hurt you too much?"

"No, I'm okay, Cillian..." You reassured, stretching your neck out to give him a tender kiss. You leaned your forehead against his, hands pressed firmly on his chest. "I'm a little sore and need to be handled with care, but I'm okay... I feel... I feel so good..."

"Me too..." He whispered, pecking you quickly on the lips. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Jonathan..." You whispered before quickly pulling away and shaking your head with embarrassment. "No, I meant Cillian...! I'm so sorry!"

"What's this about some Jonathan guy?" Cillian teased. "You dummy." He chuckled, grabbing you and pulling you back down on his chest again. He went back to that hypnotic way of stroking your hair. "Did I do a good job? Did ya enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, fuck, Cillian... that was so fucking fun..." You giggled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "You're so hot... and so fucking talented..."

"Talented..?" He wheezed, cupping your face in between his hands as you spoke to him.

"Yeah... god... just how you so effortlessly talk in that American accent... it's so degrading and so fucking hot..." You rambled, rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you talked about him. "And I loved the whole... 'he's not right here right now'... thing even though you were right here...."

"You've still got a bit of m'cum on your throat..." He chuckled, glancing down at the ruby he gave you, glazed in a thin layer of cum. "Look so pretty covered in me cum..." Cillian hummed with a distracted and dazed look in his eyes as he daydreamed at the sight of your tits and the new shiny necklace around your pretty neck. In a way, it symbolized a way of permanently marking you. You were his. Any other bloke that tried to take a glance at you would see that cherry-red ruby and know to back the fuck off because this is Cillian Murphy's girl.

"Thank you... Daddy..." You whispered, pressing your face softly into his neck and slowly nuzzling your nose all the way up until you had your lips against his cheek. "I look so pretty with this new necklace you gave me... thank you... you're such a good boyfriend..." You whispered into his ear in a hypnotizing way.

"Yer welcome, babie," He grumbled, pressing kisses to your jaw as you licked softly at his jaw and neck. "Love buyin' you new pretty t'ings for me to put on you... especially love what you bought for yourself today..." He whispered, referring to the white lingerie you wore earlier. "Fuck... my cock was hard the moment I laid eyes on ya..."

"Oh hush," You giggled, poking him on the chest as you straddled him. "Maybe we could do that again sometime?" You asked coyly while you straddled his hips.

"What? Have me fuck ya as you call me another man's name?" Cillian asked in mock annoyance.

"No..."

"I'm just teasing, love..." Cillian laughed, kissing you softly. "'Course we can do it again, love... I saw how fuckin' wet you got the moment you realized who I was being."

"Obviously... I would like regular... doctor checkups from Jonathan..."

"'Course..." Cillian nodded curtly and with a smug smirk. "Dr. Crane's... very obsessive... gotta check in on his favorite patient..."

"But... also..."

"Hmmm? Cillian hummed, running his hands up your back with some soap. He softly rubbed in the soap along your sore and used body.

"Could we do Jackson Rippner next time?" You asked, covering your face in your hands.

"Huh?" He laughed in surprise.

"Just you were so sexy... in that movie..." "But he was a terrorist with an awful haircut!" Cillian protested with a bewildered grin on his face.

"Pleaaasee... daddy... it could be so good... pretty please..." You begged, giving him those sad eyes that instantly made him give in.

"Fine... fine, just as long as I don't have to cut my bloody hair..." He grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully.

"We are going on that little trip next week..." You whispered cheekily. "We could do a little somethin' somethin' on the plane..." You grinned.

"Oh yeah?" Cillian chortled. "Can you imagine? 'Cillian Murphy caught goin' into the airplane bathrooms with his young girlfriend to shag.' The stupid papers would shat out their own minds."

"We wouldn't get caught... daddy..." You whispered, nuzzling his nose. "Please..." You cried pathetically into his ear, all while seductively running your fingers up his body.

"Fuck me... alright..." He huffed. "But you have to go along with every word I say to you, alright? I'm also not getting a haircut... We can't fuck this up..." He told you commandingly. He paused for a moment before continuing. "But also, the idea of fuckin' you in some tight little airplane bathroom and having to keep you quiet is making me lose my mind..."

"Mhm..." You hummed, leaning in to kiss him. "Whatever you say goes, Cillian... I'll be a good girl." "I know you will, baby... 'cause I know you don't wanna find out what Jackson does to bad girls..." He whispered in your ear, causing you to shudder.

You really couldn't wait for this trip.

-

Part two?? Yes or no?? AHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED I'M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE.

PART TWO!!!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane imagine #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #batman begins #cillian murphy imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

[denileisariver]

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems. pt.2

warnings: smut, some non-con/dub-con but not really, doggystyle!, creampies ♡, mentioned babytrapper!bruce but nothing happens (or does it 🫣?), some anal play but also not really, unprotected sex, descriptions of male and female genitalia, bruce is not the best father unfortunately, age gaps, uses of the word(s) 'baby' and 'daddy' like once or twice, non-consensual recording?, reader is described as dating girls in the past.

a/n: i guess this is a small continuation. i'll still be tagging as yandere due to some slightly darker undertones kinda. i'm not sure how i feel about this one but oh well :).

bruce never believed that he was a good man.

he could care less for all the praise he received throughout the years. fundraisers and charities, his image as a loving adoptive dad who took in struggling and orphaned children, or as batman. deep down, he knew he was selfish.

everything he did, he took too far. whether it was to fulfill a pipedream he realistically knew would never come true at the expense of others. or even with love, using the people he cared for the most just so he could gain something out of it. he considered himself lucky that all the little vigilantes he collected over the years stayed. and he was even happier you decided to stay as well.

bruce knew fear like the back of his hand. he could easily recognize it in your eyes whenever your eyes met his. whether it was subconscious or not, something in you knew that you should be cautious around him, and for good reason.

he couldn't quite pinpoint when his infatuation with you started. the only thing he knew was that it had crept up on him slowly, and it had been far too late until he realized its claws were sunk deep and he wanted you wrapped around his finger.

his mind would drift off sometimes, wondering if it's because of how closely he's been able to keep tabs on you over the past couple of years. you were strong and independent, more than able to take care of yourself, and others if given the opportunity. he admired that you were bold and selfless, driven. and he wanted to control that.

he stood by on the sidelines for far too long, watching you be strung along like an afterthought. he hated seeing your pathetic dates that always turned out horribly, pitiful men who only wanted one thing from you and girls that led you on because they were 'experimenting'. he hated the sad puppy look in your eyes whenever you hung around dick, before he invited you into his family, even if it was unintentional.

whether you believed it or not, bruce truly wanted what he thought was best for you. and if that meant keeping you under his surveillance, where you were at arms length 24/7, then so be it.

bruce wanted to train you how to be obedient for him. you were already establishing your own place in his household, practically marking your territory there, and he enjoyed every bit of it. for the most part, at least. there were still some challenges he needed to overcome, but you'd always been a good girl for him. that much he knew.

you tried to be grateful for him as much as possible.

even after his creepy behavior and even weirder training, you wanted to trust him. it felt wrong not to. everyone had been kind and did more for you than anyone else in your life had, and bruce set the foundation for all of it. you'd finally got a taste of being part of his family like you always wanted, and you weren't willing to let it go just because of eccentric assumptions and silly feelings.

you did find all of it a bit extreme, though. the excessive amount of gifts, the kids were attentive as ever, and alfred practically babied you. but it was normal. completely normal. at least that's what you chalked it up to, living under the roof of a well renowned billionaire, and you weren't about to complain about it either.

being around all the other wards put you at ease. regardless if you truly saw them as found family or not, you considered them your best friends. whether it was helping alfred around the manor as much as possible, burning pastries in the kitchen with the girls, playing video games with jason (which grew to be one of your favorite pastimes), you found yourself letting your guard down. like you could finally breathe and be safe in your own home, which was basically never while you were still surviving on your own back in gotham.

speaking of jason, you think maybe you are beginning to like the boy. sure, he had always been attractive, but you never actually got to interact with him longer than a short conversation here and there before dick decided to butt in. he had always been protective of you like that. you figured whatever you felt for jason might've been weird at first, but considering tim and stephanie dated for a little while, and they were still here, that it was okay.

you tried to subtly spend more time around jason. sitting close by during dinner or while catching a flick, offering to be by his side during patrol. maybe you were a bit more obvious than you would've liked, but jason took it well, much to bruce's disdain. the boy started to talk to you more often, more lively around you than ever, staring at you from across the room, making physical contact. and you greedily accepted it.

and of course dick would be the first to pester at you about it. he'd snuck up from behind, startling you when you were too engrossed in a romance book that you'd discovered while exploring the ginormous library.

"so you and jason are a thing now?"

the sound of his sudden voice makes your body jolt, damn near dropping the precious book you were reading that probably cost more than your entire life. the only people in this world that could make you flustered the way you are now are all living underneath the same goddamn roof, and you've successfully trapped yourself in it, willingly.

"what're you talking about?" the blank look on dick's face makes you cringe. in all your years of friendship, the two of you never really fought. the thought that he'd be mad about you being with jason was almost enough to make your heart sink. but the truth was, you weren't really actually with him anyway. things were just.. different.

all of his rigorous training with bruce had apparently worked off, because almost right on cue, dick notices how anxious you are right now. he shifts his body language to a more lighthearted demeanor, no longer as stiff. his voice is soft. "listen, i don't care, kind of, but.. just be careful." the way he says it almost makes you feel better, like he cares, and of course he does, but—

"what's that supposed to mean?"

your defensiveness is no surprise to dick. the look on his face let's you know he expects it, and you almost hate yourself for being so predictable.

"i don't want you to get hurt, that's all i'm saying." he tries to reassure, but it does nothing but the opposite. hurt you? you never expected much to come out of your tiny fondness for jason, and even if it did, you knew better than to think it'd be something that'll last forever. "I won't get hurt."

you say it like it's a sure thing. there's this unreadable look in dick's eyes. something that you don't think you've ever seen before, and it almost scares you. like he knows something you don't, but you can't tell what the hell it is. he curtly nods, forcing back that charming smile to his face, but you're no idiot, especially when it comes to him.

"i don't doubt it." and with that, he's gone.

☆☆☆☆☆

it's been a couple of days since your little talk with dick. well, more of a warning than anything, so that's what you take it as. you started being more mindful, not just around jason but everyone. more observant and aware of how you interacted with them. and after a while, you deduced that whatever dick was thinking is just part of his overprotective nature, both as a brother and as a friend. that he'd grow accustomed to you and jason just like everyone else was.

that was up until you noticed your possessions were starting to go missing. it started with just panties, then a bra or two, eventually your sweaters or jewelry. at first, you thought you were going crazy, just misplacing and losing things, but it was happening way too often. bruce spoiled you enough so that everything was replaceable, but still. was dick right?

was jason some sort of pervert or stalker?

well, you think all of them had the stalking part down, getting it from bruce, but you aren't completely oblivious to the fact that jason harbored reciprocated feelings for you. but to go as far as stealing your stuff? even dirty panties? there's no way. it couldn't be. if it was true, you were daring enough to confront him about it. you'd just have to wait for the right time to do it, but that proved more than difficult. there seemed to never be a perfect moment.

bruce had been more rough than before during sparring. and honestly, you didn't mind. at first, it scared you. but with the emotional turmoil you were suddenly experiencing, you almost liked it. those damn hands in your hair, a tight headlock cause his bicep was wrapped around your neck, a muscular thigh between your legs. it felt better than you would ever admit, and you found yourself almost looking forward to it. it was just because you needed some stress relief, right?

bruce intimidated you more than anyone you've ever met, but that didn't stop you from checking him out occasionally. the older man was more than attractive, and no one could deny that, not even you, regardless if you thought he was a bit peculiar.

if you hadn't been so enamored in your thoughts, trying to convince yourself that you weren't just another perv, maybe you would've felt bruce's growing hard-on accidentally poke your ass. or that he's held you in this same position for too long, admiring how you looked bent over for him like this and wanting nothing more but to make you take him right then and there. but he was upset with you.

you were getting too close to jason. on a fatherly note, he knows he should be happy. jason always had trouble around others, and he was probably just another reason for you to stay. but a larger part of him wanted to spank your ass over his knee, gag your tiny mouth on his cock in front of everyone so they knew who you belonged to.

he has to be more careful. he'd barely gotten ahold of you, and if he pushed too much, he'd run the risk of you trying to escape. but he couldn't bear to just stand by and watch while you and jason tried to pursue a relationship. no.. that couldn't happen. jason would have a knife at his throat if he caught bruce just now, that he'd hate him even more if he found out that the girl he was crushing on was being lusted on by his father figure.

but bruce could live with that.

that's why he doesn't say anything when he gently bounces the leg that's slotted between your thighs, your clit grazing against him through the thin fabric of your workout shorts. he only gauges your reaction to it, waiting, expecting you to fight back but you don't. the movement was soft enough for you not to notice it at first, but when the rubbing gets repetitive and you finally realize just how long you've been in such a comprising position for him, a flood of both excitement and anxiety goes straight to your core.

it almost feels like a betrayal to jason, even if you owed him nothing. you couldn't even remember the last time you hooked up with somebody, and it was actually good. you'd been stuck with making yourself cum, and that got old very quickly. on one hand, doing this with bruce could potentially ruin your relationship with his other wards if you were caught, and on the other hand, you were horny enough to not be thinking straight. even if bruce was a weird fuck that you didn't trust fully.

you manage to let out strained whimpers, hoping to appeal to bruce so he'd let you go. the arch of your back had become strenuous, but even then, you found yourself yearning for more. if this is what he wanted, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him. your hips move on their own accord, rutting and pressing the plush lips of your cunt along the thick muscle, face contorting slightly in pleasure whenever your sensitive bud received the attention it craved so much.

he allowed you to hump his leg like an animal in heat, his hips jutting out forward and now fully pressing a heavy cock against your ass, the clothed tip resting by the lower half of your back. whether you fully wanted this or not, it didn't really matter to bruce. the arm that was wrapped around your neck moves down, then squeezing a handful of one of your tits, appreciating its weight and how squishy it was in his grasp.

the differences in sizes made your body appear tinier than it really was, and bruce thought that was cute too. his other free hand wrapping around your body so he could feel both of your pillowy breasts in his hands, his groping making you squirm. even if you encouraged this more than you probably should've, you wonder if this is moving way too fast. he's your best friends dad for christ sake. jason's dad. (as much as he liked to deny it). and you were already living in his mansion.

all while these thoughts swirl through your head, bruce is slipping his hands beneath your shirt and moving the cups of your bra out the way, twisting and pinching at your pert nipples. his teeth find your neck, biting, a tongue licking the sensitive skin. you felt helpless to how quick and overwhelming all of it is. it doesn't take long for it to feel like his presence and touch is suffocating you, and bruce is even more greedy than you are.

"can i touch you baby?" the grufness of his voice sends chills down your spine.

you don't know why he even asks. you stupidly nod your head in agreement, even though rough pads of his fingers are already eagerly shoving themselves into your shorts and cupping your tiny pussy through cotton panties. he hums in content, noting the warmth of it and the gentle rhythmic pulses. your heart races, resisting the urge to hump his hand just like you were on his thigh.

much to your disappointment, he slips his hand out of your shorts, whining at the loss of contact. that is up until your bottoms are being pushed down your legs, and suddenly, you're conscious of how anyone could walk in on the two of you. and you still can't bring yourself to protest.

bruce bends you over once more, your face down and ass up for him. his cock aches in its confines, throbbing and begging to be released, but he holds it off. he stares at your exposed cunt, making you feel subconscious for a bit. your lips are soft and glistening, tiny clit shyly hiding beneath the hood. his thumbs spread your cheeks a bit, your slick holes on display for him.

your arousal drips down, dripping a bit onto the sparring mat in the process. your openings wink at him a bit with small flutters, and bruce leans down slightly, using his own spit to lube up your asshole and rim it with his thumb, even if he wasn't going to use it yet.

your body jolts, yelping a bit in surprise. no one had ever touched you there, and you certainly weren't expecting it just now. your hands move to try and cover yourself. "wait— i've never—"

bruce interrupts you with low shushes, kneading the soft flesh of your asscheek in his hand. he decides to feel your clit instead, his thumb working its way down your slit and easily finding the tiny nub. the constant and steady movement ties a knot in your tummy, instinctively pushing your cunt against his hand, soft moans emitting from you. fuck, he was good at this.

you were no stranger to playboy bruce wayne. ever since you've met him, he always had a litter of lovers that followed him around like lost pets, people that he'd never commit to always at his beck and call. you think you might understand why, now. he was a provider, strong, handsome. and even though you hadn't felt his cock inside you yet, you feared you might not ever want another one again after this.

your pussy fluttered desperately, needing something inside you, an impending orgasm building up but frustration was still there. one of his long, thick fingers offers you grace, gently pushing into your cunt. it was almost comical how easily he got you to gush and make a mess of his hand, the digit rubbing and pushing at that sensitive and spongey spot deep inside of you.

"fuck!— bruce—" you cried out, back arching even further, hair sticking against your forehead due to your sweaty state. you pant quickly, trying to regain composure, but your heart only beats more wildly, like a tiny prey animal, the sound of bruce's clothes being removed filling your ears.

you twist your body and head a bit so you could look at him, the sight making your mouth fall open slightly, practically drooling while you oggled him. regardless of his age, the man before you was built like a damn sculpture. hand-crafted to perfection. he was still toned in all the right places after all these years, even if his body had grown softer during his time as a father. coarse hair that led down to a fat cock that was standing up at full attention.

you whimper a bit, unsure if you were really prepared for this. you assume that whatever this is will have an unspoken agreement to be kept secret, at least you hope so. bruce was sometimes unpredictable, but if dick or even jason found out, you'd imagine you and bruce would be killed.

"don't worry baby," bruce grunts softly, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. the head of his cock teases your entrance, before moving his hips in a mimick motion of thrusting into you, fucking himself in between your thighs and cunt. the tip of his cock smears pre-cum along your stomach, a thick vein protruding from the shaft, and you worry your guts are about to be rearranged, not knowing if you'll be able to walk without a limp tomorrow.

you haven't been able to catch a good look at his cock yet, but you're sure he's gonna have the biggest dick you've ever had. it's proven to you quickly, the air being knocked out of your lungs when he fully sheaths himself inside, bottoming out without warning.

bruce grins above you, his hand resting on your lower back, just above your butt so he could watch the delicious jiggle of your ass bouncing on his cock. he keeps a slow pace at first. judging by your reaction, he knows the stretch hurts you a bit. your baby pussy was so taut around the meaty length, lips struggling to open up for him, even after playing with it.

soft ah ah ahs spill from you, body quivering ever so slightly. it would've been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't watching you as closely as bruce was. you wanted to take it. you wanted to be good for him. you didn't want to disappoint him. you needed to take his cock like a big girl, even if you didn't fully understand why you wished to please him so much. maybe it's just cause you were sick of feeling like a child in front of him. like you had something to prove even if it wasn't needed. he'd adore you either way, but you didn't know it yet.

bruce was surprised you even succumbed to him as easily as you did, an adorable determination in your eyes, he presumes for a number of reasons. you were deprived just as much as him, which sometimes led to some questionable decisions. which meant he also knew you'd regret this later. but those were problems for another time.

one of his hands finds your wrists, keeping your arms pinned behind your back. bruce imagines the dainty fingers struggling to wrap around his thick girth, how pretty you would look with a cock fucking down your throat. he had fantasized about this happening for too long.

he fucks you with consistent movements, cherishing this moment in case he wouldn't be able to get it back. you were a kind girl. he knew all about the conflicted feelings that were settled deep in your heart because he felt them too. the teary look in your eyes, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder, but he'd do the latter. with or without your permission.

bruce snaps his hips with more ferocity, keeping his focus on the recoil of your ass, his cock getting getting increasingly wet with creamy white slick, a ring of cum forming at the base of his length. you shudder a bit, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, and you shift your hips to fuck him back, needily chasing your own orgasm.

"that's it— use that little pussy on daddy," bruce hisses through his teeth, his nails digging into your supple flesh, all the filthy sounds that you and that sweet pussy made had his cock pulsing.

you could barely register a word he said, completely forgetting about anything other than the persistent pounding your weeping cunt was receiving. tears prickle your eyes, spit spilling out of your mouth. you looked a damn mess, barely coherent other than the small chanting of 'daddy' just like a prayer, mindlessly accepting the title.

this was something that bruce could get used to. everything about you was just so damn perfect. he shamelessly hoped that you were ovulating, wishing to fill your womb with his seed and make your belly full and round with his child, then you'd have no reason to leave. even if you tried, he wouldn't allow it.

your toes flex and curl, legs trembling from a wave of ecstasy. your poor cunt spasms uncontrollably around his cock, a strangled but sweet moan forced out of you while you rode out your climax. bruce stuffed you full, plugging himself deep inside of you. he stayed there for a moment before fucking you with slower but unmerciful strokes, skin slapping against you with a force that made your breasts bounce harshly.

your pussy squelches, juices leaking all over him. you struggle to crawl away from him cause of the overstimulation, aching and already sore due to the ceaseless strech. but he only pulls you back, growling at your disobedience, swatting your ass with a calloused hand. bruce cums with a raspy groan, a bruising grip on your hips, the sticky substance painting your velvety walls.

the mat below you is drenched in a mixture of yours and bruce's fluids, sure to leave a stain unless poor alfred was stuck cleaning your mess, and you had a feeling bruce wouldn't do it. you'd be willing to clean it yourself to save the embarrassment, but your weak limbs had other plans.

you think he's finished with you until you're hoisted up, forcibly turned around so bruce could see the rest of your naked body. he wastes no time to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. he wasn't going to allow you to leave here without leaving his mark on you, claiming you by filling up and covering your chest with his lovebites.

he could care less if anyone had seen how effortlessly he managed to corrupt you. all it took was to turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve. it'd be damn near impossible to avoid him after this. even if he wasn't around, the memory would be forever ingrained into your mind, and you wouldn't be able to look at dick or jason or any of the other wards without the reminder that you fucked their father.

you gently try to push at bruce's broad shoulders, the effort not doing much other than making him bite down on your tit, then moving along to the other. you guess the post-nut clarity had hit you, and a tinge of guilt welled up in your chest.

your brows furrow a bit in a feeling of discomfort when bruce glides two fingers through your folds, then gently massaging the swollen button above them. but your heartbeat picks up again, cunt clearly working with a mind of its own.

strained whimpers spill like honey from your lips, now finally shaking your head and attempting to push yourself away in defense when it's what you should've been doing since the beginning. bruce let's you break away from him though, his lips pulling off of you with a pop.

stern eyes meet your lustful but ashamed gaze, a state of displeasure evident on bruce's face. it's something that worries you, unsure of what that might entail. you don't want to make him angry, and you also don't think you're ready to leave the manor just yet, but you also don't know if you can act indifferent around bruce and the others.

maybe if he wasn't around as often, things would be easier, and you'd be able to pretend like this wasn't a mistake. your throat bobs, swallowing your anxiousness, wanting to reevaluate yourself, preferably alone.

you kneel there and wait, half expecting bruce to just fix himself up and leave without much regard for you, because you assumed that's the type of man he would be after fucking someone, but he doesn't. instead, he let's out a small disgruntled noise, collecting your panties and shorts that he had pulled off of you earlier.

his cum is still seeping out of you, a thick load slow to ooze out of you when bruce had emptied his balls inside your abused pussy. he doesn't ask if you want help or if you wanted to be cleaned up, simply raising the fabric up your legs and thighs till the most precious parts of you were covered again. the cotton becomes damp, your wet core coating them with the evidence of yours and bruce's sex.

he shortly cups the tiny cunt in his large hand, gently swiping his thumb over your mound. a small sigh leaves his lips, almost as if he was sad to be leaving the warmth and tightness of it so soon. you're not sure if you're comfortable with how easily he assumed he should have access to your body, but you guess it's also partly your fault, so you allow it for now.

his lips find yours, surprisingly gentle and loving, a stark contrast to how hard he was pistoning his dick inside your belly. but it's pleasant, so you welcome that also. bruce's tongue is smooth and soft, gliding along yours for a moment before he breaks away, a hazy look in his eyes. something you don't think you've ever seen there before, and you swear he's so dreamy to look at.

it's when you remember he's still undressed, eyes shifting below between your bodies and honing in on the massive cock that bruce endowed. even if it was gradually getting softer, he was still semi-hard, his blood pumping to that area just in case he needed to go another round. he'd be more than willing to stuff that tiny hole for you again, and he wished you'd ask him to, but you don't.

but maybe you will someday.

he let's you stare at his cock unabashedly, his breathing heavy and shaky. he slowly moved his hand, gently jerking the long length since you were gawking at him. you let out a cute squeak, suddenly remembering you were about to leave.

bruce doesn't seem to care that it's getting late, or that the rest of the family would be heading down to the cave sooner or later, his focus purely on what was in front of him. but he can see the look of worry written all over you, and it deters him. he stands up to his full height, your eyes widening slightly, his cock dangled in front of you shamelessly, and a small smirk forms on his face.

he has to refrain from grabbing your hair and prodding his dick between those pretty lips of yours. he moves to tug his joggers back on, his cock slapping a bit against his thigh from the movement. you never break eye contact, and neither does he, your thoughts plagued by bewilderment and amorosity.

you stumble over yourself while picking yourself up off the ground, barely reaching bruce's shoulders. you have to tilt your head up just to look at him without straining your eyes, uncertain of what to say or how your relationship with him will be like after this. it's distressing for you, but you're even more concerned with how you're gonna be able to look dick or jason in the eyes again afterwards.

you push away your apprehensiveness, chewing on your bottom lip so you can find the right words. "this— this never happened," you stutter out, your voice coming out more frail than you intended.

bruces lips curl a bit in dismay, his jaw clenching. out of everything he wanted to hear you say, that was certainly not at the top of his list. his hands ball into a fist, his nerves tensing up. he would never think about hurting you. not physically, at least. but you didn't know that. bruce scoffs lightly, almost amused that you actually thought he'd let you off that easily.

you scramble a bit, trying to get your point out before he can get a word in. "if anyone found out–"

"who i fuck is my business only," he cuts you off, already knowing what you'll say next. it's something he's thought over plenty times already. dick had been suprisingly compliant with bruce thus far, so he wasn't an issue according to bruce, and it was easy to get to him anyway. but he didn't foresee his other sons feelings coming into play, or yours. "and you're not an innocent little girl either, so don't act like one."

shit. you were practically digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole since you moved here. you stare up at him with pleading eyes, and he can't help but soften up a bit. if you were more smart, none of this would've ever happened. how the hell are you gonna be pining after jason now? and bruce.. he seemed less than pleased at the moment. and your gut told you that he wouldn't be letting this go anytime soon.

but he was at heart, a family man. everything he did was out of love, and a desire to protect others so they didn't have to experience the pain he felt when he lost the people most important to him. at least that's what you liked to believe. after jason's passing, they worked so hard to rebuild their relationship, and the trust between them had slowly begun to resemble what it used to be, even if there were some slight changes.

there was no way in your mind that bruce would destroy all of that just for you. you were just some girl, who occasionally hung around his son, but that didn't mean you held as much value in his life than his adopted children. he wouldn't go as far as breaking down his own home, again, just for you, would he?

"if this ever happened," you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head, already gathering how he must've felt about this based off his demeanor. you were no master detective like he was, but being able to easily read body language, sensing people's energies, and intuition, you were good at. "it would ruin everything."

"we're not going to argue about this." he rebutted, taking on a more stern tone, his voice raising above yours. like he was already making the decision for the both of you, and you weren't having that. you want to say more till the sound of footsteps catch your attention, a familiar voice resonating from the stairwell.

"master bruce, is everything alright?" you silently thank whatever higher power that it's alfred instead of someone else. alfred has had his fair share of catching bruce in.. less than favorable circumstances. but the look of surprise on his face isn't something you can miss, even if it's only there for a split second. you'd been caught.

alfred's eyes wander down to the floor below you that's still wet with juices, registering what it was quickly. his eyes meet yours for a moment, smiling at you weakly, then taking a step back from you and bruce. "sorry for the interruption, sir." the older man says formally, turning on his heel to leave, but you do the same before he can.

"actually, i was just leaving." you glance at bruce whose eyes haven't left yours since even before alfred entered the cave. and then you were back to feeling small and helpless around him, back to square one. you sigh and roll your eyes at his poker-face, trying to rush out the cave to escape the awkward interaction.

alfred's eyes follow you with worry, only turning to bruce with a vexed expression once you're gone, shaking his head in disappointment. bruce stared at him blankly, already knowing he was about to get a scolding. "i'm a grown man—"

"precisely." alfred cuts him off, sass in his voice. "she's over a decade younger than you, your sons friend. you have no right to take advantage of her." he argued, pointing a finger in bruce's face.

"she can make her own decisions." bruce seethes, unwilling to hear him out. he hates himself for knowing deep down the butler was right, but he didn't force you to do anything. not really. he knew this wouldn't be without repercussions, but alfred wouldn't say anything either to avoid suspicion.

everything would blow up in bruce's face, and maybe he'd take some accountability for once in his life, but alfred highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.

bruce faced away from him, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. he hated how easily you turned this around on him, turning into a little cock-drunk slut while having sex and then turning around to be angry at him, but it was something he'd seen coming. bruce huffs out a heavy breath, ignoring alfred's smoldering expression. "just get out, i'll clean this up."

"and what of the girl?" alfred asks, side-eyeing the man he raised. he cared more for your safety and how you felt rather than getting on bruce's nerves. "that isn't your concern. i'll take care of it."

alfred was less than enthusiastic about what that could possibly mean, or what any of this would result in. his heart ached for you and jason, even occasionally eavesdropping on the time you spent together, and the friendship had blossomed. maybe it could have turned into something more, but he isn't so sure now.

he turns back into his more reserved and neutral state, giving bruce one last judgmental stare before leaving him to tend to him thoughts. there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he wouldn't waste the energy. he'd only watch you like a hawk now. and bruce included.

with alfred away now, bruce makes quick work of his computer. he searches for the camera he placed in your room upon your arrival to the manor. there's a weird feeling in his chest that he can't quite explain, unsure of what it even was, seeing you curled up in bed, staring off into space. this was one of the rare times he wished he was meta, just so he could read your mind, pick your brain, even if just for a little bit.

you didn't seem sad or angry. just more confused by what he could tell. your eyes shifting like you were thinking up all the possibilities and outcomes of this, and he hated to see it wrack your head. he wished he could say something, or hold you, anything that would give you comfort, but it'd probably just have the opposite of his desired effect.

he had hoped to dwell on the fact that he finally got to penetrate that pretty little cunt of yours more without having to stress over issues that were nonexistent for now, but that wouldn't be the case. there was always something there to bite him in the ass and humble him if need be.

now he could only dream that whatever emotions you possessed for jason would alleviate. that he was an option you didn't know you had up until today. he hoped that he could make you his. and he would. just one day at a time.

he makes sure to save the footage that the security cameras all over the cave had captured, for later usage. he didn't think he'd get an experience like that again anytime soon, that he had just gotten lucky this one time.

but you were almost too eager to fuck him back. bruce wondered if maybe he had more of a chance than he thought, but he didn't know the extent of the loyalty you held for jason or him. or if you would want to avoid the situation completely and decide to leave the mansion. he was never a religious man, but if there was anything for him to pray for, it was you.

he didn't know what was worse. his eyes narrow, analyzing you for a quick moment before shutting off the computer, his head almost beginning to hurt due to the frustration.

just one day at a time.

#batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman #bruce wayne #smut #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere batfam

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | age gap, reader is nineteen | mild exhibitionism | size difference | choking | objectification (f receiving)

BRUCE WAYNE was in the hot seat. Well, more appropriately, Batman was in the hot seat. Which meant it was time for the billionaire playboy to make a public appearance so controversial, any press worth their tacks would cover his televised blunder rather than some depressing masked vigilante’s dealings. People prefer gossip over politics, and Bruce knows how to work an angle.

You’re a fresh adult, but the people already know you. A perfect Gotham sweetheart: a little darling on the front cover of lingerie magazines, starring as a bombshell in motion pictures, named the honor of the Ice Princess last month. You wore your little feathery outfit, next to nothing in the freezing cold, and turned on the city's giant Christmas tree lights just as the Ice Princess does every year. Known for your youth and beauty, Bruce knew you were the perfect candidate to take all the attention away from where it shouldn't be. Tabloids couldn't decide whether to praise the seasoned billionaire for landing a nineteen-year-old catch, or condemn him for having a mid-life crisis.

"Bruce Wayne seen with Gotham's Ice Princess." was everywhere anyone looked. It seemed the city had taken quite a protective role over you, which is exactly what Bruce needed.

Now that he's got you, he flaunts you. He lets you lug him around town, any local events that could be televised are his priorities. There, he makes a big show of touching you in ways only a lover is allowed to. Things that make you pat his huge bicep scoldingly. "Brucie!" you chide with a gasp, "You're so shameless." you say, but you fucking love it. How he openly mouths at your neck, lapping and sucking on your pulse point enough for lewd pretty sounds to slew from your parted lips. Little whimpers that any onlookers eat up.

He'll grope you unabashedly, big hand grabbing at your ass or giving it a swat. He needs those cameras to see how gross he is, how crazy he is about his nineteen-year-old situationship. If you get kissed, it's fucking sloppy. Mostly tongue, tongue outside the mouth as much as he can appropriately get away with. His "dirty sense of humor" will bleed into the public scene as well, hugging you from behind only to jokingly engulf your neck with his hand to fake a choke.

Every single one of these things he does for attention, leaves you hot and bothered. Frustrated from his treatment of you that's so warm when there are prying eyes, but so cold when you're finally alone together. You want Bruce Wayne to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but when doors are closed suddenly it's: "Something's come up." or "The sushi hit me wrong." Or the worst one of all: the polite, civilized, but uninterested act. You're all over him, begging for him to finally fuck you after stringing you along and teasing you so ardently all day, and he treats you as if you are an acquainted business associate who has overstayed her welcome. You don't get it. An hour ago he was pulling your neckline towards him for a peek down your dress, and now he's showing you the door with a smile on his face.

#1k #2k #indy: drabbles #ch: bruce #nineteen year old!reader #bruce wayne drabble #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x f!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman smut #batman x reader #batman x reader smut #batman x f!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #batman imagine #batman fic #batman fanfiction #cw age gap

[visionsofmagic]

day 16: bruce wayne [power play]

࿓ synopsis • the game you play takes a different route in which you try to dominate him, but, he doesn’t allow you.

―❦ nsfw, dominance/submission, roughness, licking, marking, wrist holding, short, f!reader, brat!reader, riding, begging, pet names, ‘is all I guess? • 0.7k • he's my favorite dc character and the idea popped into my mind because he's looking so dom! enjoy! [kinktober m.]

“who’s in control now, love?” he asks as he pounds into you, hands holding yours above your head as your back arches onto his bare chest, filthy voices leaving you one by one since it’s too much to keep silent – he’s trying to gain it from you after all, wanting to make you scream his name louder with each of his deep, hungry thrusts that hit the exact spot that drives you crazy in every time.

the question is a reference to what you said before being in this situation; leaning down on the mattress, wrists inside his palms, breasts bouncing shamelessly and even hitting his chest from time to time, legs wide open, pussy soaking wet enough to make the white color of the sheets goes grey because of how much it is, legs shaking yet still having the strength to stay on his back, hugging him from there only to bring his body closer to yours as if it’s possible – as if he’s not already deep buried inside you, fucking you roughly because he has something to prove to you – to dig it into your pathetic mind as he said before.

he’s angry – a little bit, with the lust that flows inside his veins until it reaches the tip of his thick cock – using it to shove it into you mercilessly.

the feelings are there due to you – being a little brat and trying to take control while riding him a while ago, teasing about how his dick dripping, pale face is full of redness, breathtaking with a rapid way, and even sweating – only you can make the vigilante sweat like this – the reasons why he is rough now.

with the power you had at that moment, your body moved without your mind acknowledging it, making you look down at him, taking control, riding him so slowly to make him beg for you to move, to fuck him, yet, bruce who knows you better than anyone else, including you, understood what you were trying to do, especially when your hand tried to hold his neck – with sudden movement, he gripped your wrists, turning your body over, hovering above you as he mocked you – showing the dominance he has on you – not yours – his.

power play ended when he began to fuck you ruthlessly.

his question remains unanswered – he doesn’t seek one either, he just enjoys watching how messy you’re getting under him, ready to beg more when his hips slow down – and nearly stops as he fucks you leisurely, taking his time, and even having a ghost smirk on his face. 

and when you look at him, your vision is blurry yet witnessing his lustful expression, representing of the dominant side he has on you, you know he waits for you to beg – to cry. weren’t it for your aching pussy that is in need to be fucked by bruce, you would stay still, yet, you have no brain at all – only a greedy wet pussy and passion mixed with love.

“bruce –“ his name comes out of your parted lips on its own – pure instinct. “ohh – bruce!”

“yes, my pretty slut, what’s wrong?”

“move – aghh – please, move already! nee – ohh – need you to move!”

leaving your wrists free, his hands positioned on your hips, holding it strongly, ready to bounce into you with all his strength, his weight can be felt on you, sending a different sense of both pain and pleasure at the same time.

“look who’s begging now –“ he teases, kneeling down until his lips touch your neck, biting it – licking it so that he can leave marks on you- bigger and more efficient ones than yours that you left on his entire body before he took control. he enjoyed being under you, yet, the delight of having you under him is far greater than it. “tell me – that I am the one who is in control over you, not you over me,” he lowers down, licking and kissing your exposed body gladly, reaching until its tongue travels on your hardened breasts. 

pushing you against his hot tongue, you answer, feeling his cock leaving your pussy slowly, “you! bruce – ohh – you!” “good girl.” he says lastly, then, pushing his hip further, the cock fills your warm walls entirely with a powerful thrust and he doesn’t stop – he thrusts into you with a great pace and power that you no longer remember the power play – letting him do whatever he wants to do with you until he’s satisfied.

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear & @chloee0x0 *lots of kisses!*

#🔥 kinktober 2023 second week #kinktober 2023 #dc #dc comics #dc x reader #dc smut #batman #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman x you #batman x f!reader #batman x y/n #batman smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x f!reader #bruce wayne smut #THANKS FOR READING!! #power play with him hits different ^^

[emeraldkniight]

𝓢𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 ୨ ໋ ˳ ⊹ eng. . . !

superman, wonder woman and batman x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut drabble, gang bang, some sexual degradation, masturbation, oral sex, p in v. Diana!bisexual.

COPYRIGHT: No copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

LANGUAGE: English is not my first language and I am still studying to master it. It makes me insecure to write by myself in another language, so I used the translator. I apologize in advance for any mistakes. The original version is here.

There was always something strange and unlikely about these three from the moment you met them.

They were all hiding secrets. According to you, hiding secrets was one of the most common parts of human nature. You were not interested in knowing what they were all hiding, but your curious mind was obsessed with knowing what the holy trinity of the Justice League was hiding beneath their sleek and sophisticated veneer of heroes; what no one would dare doubt or question.

The price of your curiosity was more costly than you could have ever imagined, a debt that would have to be repaid. Now you were part of this madness, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't escape.

The good news was that you didn't want to.

You knew that the moment you felt the three of them completely, you were content to belong.

It was just hard to think of anything else when you found yourself tied to a chair, completely naked and unable to move while three pairs of blue eyes analyzed you.

The beautiful princess of Themyscira had no shame in digging into your sweet crotch. Her fingers slid across your sodden vaginal lips with a sound so vulgarly obscene that it caused you to inadvertently stir in your chair.

You looked intently at the two male figures as you tried to get as close to Diana as your body would allow so you could kiss her and feel her fingers go deeper inside you.

But before you could reach her lips, you were brutally pushed away by the man of steel, who had the clear intention of tasting your mouth first. Not that you were complaining; Clark's tongue was heavenly. It had a strange but hot connection to your lips, so it made you a mess right away. Who would have thought that Superman's ultimate power would be to soak his victims so easily?

Still, you didn't deserve them to be nice to you. On the contrary, you should be punished for insubordination. What you did was unforgivable.

In your defense, you didn't know that you were exclusive to the trio and couldn't sleep with other people. The rules weren't very clear when you met them, or when they started their no-strings-attached sex adventures.

Of course, you were not exclusive to anyone, and you planned to make that clear in the future. Right now, you were too busy cumming on Diana's fingers drilling your pussy that you didn't have enough time to think about anything else.

The adoration the Bat had for the way your pussy enveloped him so warmly brought out the most dominant and morbid part of his inner self. The sight of his cock moving in and out of your little hole at the same time your mouth was happily eating Clark's erection and your fingers were eating Diana's clit was enough to bring you to the verge of orgasm.

You gagged as the tip brushed against your uvula. You couldn't even concentrate enough because of how hard he was penetrating you. The pleasure was embracing.

— Look at our little slut. She can't even concentrate on sucking a good cock while she's being fucked. - Wayne commented. He kept going right into her sweet spot; faster and faster, more and more precise.

— She was too bad. Should we give her a prize though? She always takes us so well. - Kent continues, asking. You're beginning to control the rhythm of your mouth, although it's still a little difficult in some ways.

— Oh, Hera! - moans the princess of Themyscira. - That feels so good. - Her fingers can't resist trying to help themselves so she can come on your hand.

This is definitely the best part of the day, the one you enjoyed the most. And of course that was the guilty pleasure that came with keeping a secret. The secret the four of you shared.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne #batman #batman smut #batman x reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #superman #superman smut #superman x reader #wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman smut #dc comics #dc universe #dc au

[sanguineterrain]

dc masterlist

ONE-SHOTS.

✩ window pains. ─ jason todd x gn!reader

he's got a habit of coming in through the window. you want him to start staying... and using the door. (angst, fluff, pining, injured jason, tending to wounds, feelings).

✩ sunset anew. ─ dick grayson x fem!reader

you're a little nervous to become the mrs. grayson. luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. (wedding, fluff, anxious reader, insecure dick, so much soft intimacy)

✩ the teeth you know. ─ vampire king!dick grayson x fem!reader

the war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. when you fled gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the vampire king and the love of your life, dick grayson. you were wrong. (SMUT 18+ only, manipulative dick, dreams, oral f receiving)

✩ savior. ─ jason todd x gn!reader

red hood is the stuff of nightmares. red hood is no hero. red hood is your best friend. (angst, reader is afraid of red hood and they discover that he's jason, injured and kidnapped reader, emotional hurt no comfort.)

✩ in your hands. ─ jason todd x gn!reader

jason thinks he's too big to be loved. you show him that that's impossible. (bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.)

✩ restroom attendant. ─ jason todd x fem!reader

tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. that is, until, the red hood bursts in. this city just won't cut you a break. (humor, flirting, meet ugly, awkward cute jason, canon typical violence)

BLURBS.

ALL READERS ARE GN UNLESS NOTED OTHERWISE

-> DICK GRAYSON.

"this is real. i'm real. look at me."

"can you walk? i need you to walk."

dick catches you when you trip and fall

"you matter so much to me."

you meet the yj team for the first time and have a panic attack

dick cuddles you after he returns late from patrol

you try to break up with dick when your insecurities overwhelm you

dick and assistant!reader who has a secret nightlife

-> JASON TODD.

"i thought you were scared of heights."

reader calls jason in panic when they are chased by a goon

"you're just going to leave me here?!"

awkward jason with a big crush on baker!reader

you break up with jason after he almost dies | part 2

playfighting with jason turns into something else (NSFW, fem!reader)

jason rescues you after you have a fight (fem!reader)

jason asks his family to help after you, his fiance, are kidnapped

you forget to text jason you're home safe and he panics

you comfort werewolf!jason during a shift

you are jason's ex and have to work with him on a mission

headless horseman!jason gives you a ride home

"why not them, why me?"

you find a werewolf in your shed who has a dead boy's face

you and jason fight and he thinks you broke up

devoted jason who just wants to be yours

jason tells you that he's asexual

you give bodyguard!jason a gift

you're a vigilante who's after the red hood | pt 2 |

fussing over jason after he's shot in his bulletproof vest

boxer!jason protects you from a creep

you're a reporter who's under red hood's protection

-> CLARK KENT.

holding hands while walking with clark

giving clark a massage when he's stressed

-> BRUCE WAYNE.

clark is scared when he finds out he's going to be a dad

you politely reject superman (you're dating clark kent!)

the JL discovers that batman is married... to you

#dc fanfiction #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd x you #batman fanfiction #jason todd imagine #masterlist

[fairlyang]

Easy money II 🕷️

asked to do yet another shoot but with a plot twist

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. teasing, making out, handjob, blowjob

part one — part three

Two weeks had passed and it was almost as if that shoot never happened.

We both went back to normal, only talking when we walked past each other or offered each other dinner.

But besides that it'd be fairly quiet.

Well obviously besides when he'd bring other girls over for more shoots.

Almost every. damn. night.

It drove me insane because I kinda wanted to do another with him but wasn't sure how to ask or offer myself up.

So instead I dealt with the fact that I'd probably not get another chance and just listened to him at work every night with my toys between my legs because I couldn't help myself and I was growing more jealous with every new girl he'd bring in.

I just wanted him to fuck me like he'd fuck them-

Or even suck him off.

But alas it looked like that wasn't gonna happen so I lost all hope until I got a notification from my bank that left me thinking I was dreaming. Or dead.

"MIGUEL O'HARA sent you $5,000"

What. The. Fuck.

I open up my bank app and sure enough I now have $8K. My eyes almost bulged out of my eyes and I cover my mouth, utterly shocked.

I immediately get up from my bed and practically sprinted to his room banging on his door like a psychopath.

"COME IN!" He yelled and I burst through the door, holding out my phone.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?!!?" I yell, doing extra theatrics with my hands to accentuate my confusion.

"It's your half of the video." He says matter of factly making me gasp.

"That video made $10,000?!?" I exclaim and a smirk tugs on his lips.

"What can I say the people liked it." He says and sits up from his bed.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, I was thinking we should do another...." He continues then mumbles the last part but I heard him clearly.

I kept my excitement hidden but inside I felt giddy and wanted to jump up and down. But maybe then he'd change his mind so staying calm it is.

"Oh yeah?" I ask and he shrugs, trying to act casual as if it hasn't been on his mind since he noticed the success and that he's been wanting to have you in his videos before you filled in.

"If you'd want to that is." He says and you shrug.

My heart was racing, palms sweaty, it was getting much harder to act cool now that he was awaiting my response. I clear my throat and nod, "I'm down."

Miguel nodded and stood up, "are you busy tonight?"

I laugh, shaking my head not too surprised he wanted to film already. "Let's do it."

He grins and gets up from his bed, walking over to his chest in front of his bed and grabs his tripods. He then grabs the masks we used last time, throwing the pink one at me which I made sure to quickly catch. "So what do you have in mind?" I ask and play with the mask between my fingers.

"Well the people," he starts walking over to the couch he had by his window, "really wanted to see you in action."

"Me?" I ask and raise an eyebrow, could I be so lucky...

He nods and places the tripod in front of couch, positioning it correctly before taking out his phone out of his pocket. "We could do a handjob if you'd like." He says looking down at his phone and typing.

"Or if you want more money..." he coos making me chuckle.

Only for the money....

Of course...

"Should I change?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"Well actually just take off those horrendous pj pants." He teases making me snort.

"You're wearing batman pants-"

"Batman is cool-"

"At your grown ass age-"

"Better than dinosaurs." He snorts and I gasp.

"Take that back! We literally watched Jurassic Park after the first shoot..." I say and playfully glare at him as he finally looks up at me.

Only he could rock those ugly pants.

Only you could rock dino pjs, he thought to himself before shaking his head. Focus.

"So oral hm?" I mumble and walk over to him as he places his phone on the tripod.

"Mhm if you want." He responds making me chuckle.

I move my hair back and slip the mask over my head then fixing it so I could see right and my mouth was out. Then I groan and shake my head, "this thing is gonna be a fucking mess by the end of this."

"It'll be worth it." He says with a smirk sending a shiver down my spine.

Finally.

"And I'm honestly thinking no more collabs after this." He mutters making me scoff.

"Yeah right-"

"No seriously." He replies sincerely and shrugs.

"Well maybe besides with you.. it would be easier since you're already here..." he says looking back at his phone, avoiding my gaze.

Huh-

"Plus I know this kind of money could help us both. You work so hard and don't get paid nearly enough for all you do." He says now finally looking up and into my eyes.

I bite my lip and breathe in through my nose then exhale, should I?

It was a much bigger step, technically like being partners in a way. And surely this way he'd fuck me eventually-

"And I mean this sincerely, the 'fans' loved you out of all the girls I've worked with. Said our 'connection was unmatched.'" He says in quotation marks which stung a little, but I ignored it.

He then presses on his phone and walks toward me, "and I think I agree with them." He sighs and I could feel my heart racing.

"Really?" I whisper as he steps in front of me.

He nods and brings his hands up to cup my jaw, "Really." He breathes out and I almost immediately melted into his touch.

He then did the unexpected and made this sweet little moment even sweeter by leaning in and kissing me softly. It was so gentle and it had me questioning if he did this with the other girls. Or to show he really wanted to do this with me and not just this shoot but future ones.

I shook my thoughts away and kissed back, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He moved us to the right so we'd be on camera then sits us both down on the couch with me on his left. I could feel my heart thumping and it made me so nervous thinking he could feel it too. But he was too focused on this sweet kiss there was no way that'd be something he's paying attention to.

Surely.

Meanwhile in Miguel's head all he could think of was hoping you couldn't tell how overexcited he was. Hell after the first shoot he's just missed your touch, your body, your sounds.

But he didn't want to overstep so he kept his distance and stayed to himself.

Then after every shoot after that one it just didn't feel the same. With you it felt natural, it didn't feel like you were putting on a show but actually caring about your pleasure.

But in todays case, it'd be his pleasure. Which he was so ecstatic about. Every time a girl would be sucking him off he'd just close his eyes and imagine it were you. And now it was finally going to happen and he didn't have to pretend anymore.

Finally.

His hands were tracing my body slowly which made me realize I should be the one doing that. This whole scenario was gonna be about him technically.

I deepen the kiss and move my left hand to his hair, playing around with the curls at the back of his neck. With my right hand I graze against his collarbone softly while I slide my tongue into his mouth.

He moaned into my mouth making me squeeze my thighs together then move my hand, trailing down his body.

I lightly grazed his abs but my hands stayed put on the waistband of his pants. I pull away from the kiss that left us both breathless but then bring my face down to his neck, leaving soft kisses on his warm skin before toying with the waistband.

He bucked his hips up but I just moved my hand away, up to his stomach. I let it sit there while I leave a few marks on his neck, making sure it'd last a handful of days.

I move up a little and nibble on his ear before moving my hand down and on his already hard bulge. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel the thickness then take a look down and that was when I noticed he was breathing heavy.

I turned to look at him and his eyes were shut and his lips were shaking. I smile and bring my hand down, palming him over his pants as I watch him let out a small moan.

I was already starting to feel my panties getting soaked which only surprised me that it didn't happen sooner.

I rub the outline of his dick gently, which earns me breathy moans that were music to my ears. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me and was about to say something when i slipped my hand down his pants and stroked him over his boxers.

He moaned again and it only gave me motivation to keep going, to hear those moans that were because of me. Not another girl. But me.

I then couldn't help myself nor how quickly I took the pj pants off him but he didn't seem to mind. I then grabbed his dick and slipped it out of the hole of his boxers. I look down at it on my hands and gulp, he was so thick and leaking so much precum.

I open my mouth and spit on his angry tip, watching as it dribbles down then start stroking it with my right hand before it could go all the way down. He lets out a loud moan and bucks his hips up, thrusting himself into my hand which only made more wet because he looks so good.

I stroke him faster and continue watching his face, his cheeks were rosy and there were beads of sweat along his forehead and he laid his head back against the couch. "Feel good Mig?" I murmur and he brings his head up nodding.

He then looks down at my hand and groans, "so fucking good baby."

I hum and continue my pace, then moving my face closer to his and leave a kiss on his cheek before kissing along his jaw. "Oh fuck baby-“

I then pull away and drop to my knees in front of him. I continue stroking him, staring up at him with big doe eyes before moving closer and leaving a little kiss on his tip making him groan.

I squeezed my thighs together and smiled up at him before leaving kitten licks on his tip and lightly circle around it earning myself a deep moan. "Just like that pretty girl-"

"Oh shit!" He moans as I slip him inside my mouth, bringing my head down as he tilts his head back.

I move my head down as much as I could, barely able to take half before pulling back and letting the drool drip out of my mouth and back onto his tip. I slip him back in my mouth and try to take more than the first time, already gagging on it but I wanted to take it all.

I pull back with no luck then try once more, taking him in my mouth and then go down as far as possible until I'm gagging on him and then going down further, finally able to take all of him down my throat.

"Fuck! God baby you're taking it s-so fucking good." Miguel moans and I feel myself clench around nothing.

I pull out then immediately go back down again, having him hit my throat some more. I then feel his hands hold onto my head so I freely let him guide me.

With teary eyes I look up at him and moaning at the sight of him rolls his eyes back, moaning louder and louder the more I take him. "So fucking good to me-" he moans and forces me to move my head harder.

"Take that fucking dick pretty girl- fuck- I know you can take it." He groans and slowly starts thrusting up into me.

I close my eyes and let him take full control which he was clearly, very appreciative of. He began thrusting his hips up then shoved my head down as deep as it could go then thrust down.

"Such a dirty fucking girl for me- taking all that cock-" he breathes out and starts thrusting his hips up faster but his grip on my head loosened.

"Oh baby- you have no idea how long I've needed that pretty mouth of yours. Too fucking long-" he moans making me whimper against him and I feel his cock begin to twitch in my mouth.

"Mmm gonna give you a load you deserve-" he murmurs and I squeeze my thighs feeling my arousal dripping to my inner thighs.

"All this cum just for you baby. Fuck!" And with one final deep thrust he came down my throat, I quickly swallowed and then pulled away, taking a deep breath before trying to control my breathing.

He then reaches down and grabs me, pulling me up and smashing our lips together. He places me on his lap as I kiss back and let him taste himself in my mouth. He then pulls away and gives me a small smile which I returned with pleasure.

But he then gave me a goofy grin which only made me laugh and playfully slap his shoulder. He rolls his eyes then pecks my lips softly before placing my head on his chest.

His heart was thumping clear as day.

"Only you cause this, with or without a shoot." He admits quietly and I quickly look up at him with wide eyes.

"I really would love to make content with just you." He says then quickly adds, "not just out of convenience."

I smile and feel my whole body grow warm, "so when's a good time to have the 'what are we' chat?" I joke and he bursts out laughing.

"We can be whatever you want us to be." He says and brings a hand to my cheek, lightly stroking it making me melt into his touch.

#Miguel O’Hara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o #hara smut #across the spiderverse #easy money

[pileofmush]

don't crush the wings

pairing ➸ luffy x fem!reader

details ➸ tags: modern au! humor & spice! gratuitous use of the f-bomb // cw: no smut, but a little suggestive; drinking. everyone's at least 20 & this doesn't take place in america; reader wears a dress & is called a girl at one point // wc: 2k

a/n ➸ happy halloween! 🎃 muahahaha

“We are gonna get fucked up tonight,” Nami sings into your ear with a sharp giggle. She’s sitting on your lap, turned towards you with a long bottle in her dainty, manicured hand. Fishnets run up her thighs, up, up, up into her short black miniskirt, and the fabric rides up farther as she wiggles in your lap. 

“Or just fucked,” you mutter, side-eyeing your friend. You know for a fact that Nami has goals she plans to achieve by the end of the night, and they probably have something to do with a pretty girl whose name starts with ‘V’ and ends with ‘ivi’. 

It’s Halloweekend, a Friday night, and you’re pregaming in the shoddy little apartment you share with Nami and Usopp. Nami’s dressed to kill as an alluring vampire vixen, and Usopp’s fiddling with the zipper of his Party City superhero costume. Knowing your friends, you expect for a little mayhem to occur tonight. Especially considering the party you’ll be attending: hosted by none other than the ASL brothers. 

If there’s one things you can trust the ASL brothers to do, it’s to wreak havoc on society. If there’s a second thing you can trust the ASL brothers to do, it’s to throw a decent party. 

Nami swats your thigh at your remark and thrusts the bottle into your hands. “Drink more,” she orders. “You’re not nearly drunk enough.” You fumble for your Hello Kitty shot glass and pour liquor into your glass.

“Just drink from the bottle,” Nami chides, fingers curling around the hem of your dress. You take this in stride; sink into the spotty old couch Usopp salvaged from a flea market with a sigh. Nami’s a flirty drinker: you know this. Get a couple drinks in her and she’ll get touchy and bossy—or, bossier than she already is. The girl cocks her chin up at you in challenge. “Don’t be a pussy.” She’ll also get mouthy.

You reject her protests with a minute shake of your head. “No way.” Usopp trots over from across the room with a matching Hello Kitty glass, and you tip the bottleneck until vodka pours out, to Nami’s displeasure. “I’m not a fucking heathen.” 

“Cheers to that,” Usopp says, then clinks his glass with yours—Hello Kitty to Hello Kitty. He throws his drink back and immediately starts coughing. 

You smile at your friend’s pathetic demonstration, raise your glass, and toss the drink to the back of your throat. It goes down a little smoother than your first had, but still lights a fire in your chest, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

A loud knock has your head swiveling to the front door. “The calvary is here!” Someone from the other side shouts. 

You say Usopp’s name, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says and shuffles toward the door, probably resenting the day he signed a six-month lease with two bossy girls. He quickly unlocks the door, swinging it wide open. A boy springs through the entrance with a loud whoop, arms in the air. Behind him struts the moss-headed Zoro, who heads straight for the kitchen, determined to find the booze and drink you out of house and home, you’re sure. Hovering by the entrance lingers Sanji, who towers over Usopp.

“Are you seriously dressed as Batman?” You hear him ask.

Usopp’s pitch raises unnaturally as he defends himself. “The ladies love Batman!”

Sanji snorts. “What do you know about ladies?” He asks, stepping around the Walmart Superhero. Suddenly, he halts, gaze locking on you and Nami like a fucking aim-bot. 

“Nami-Swaaaaaaan!~” He croons.

Nami grabs the bottle from your hands and takes a giant swig. 

“And you must be an angel,” the blond appears at your side, sighing dreamily. A crown rests atop his head; his hair shines like spun gold. Blegh.

“A fairy, actually.” You reply, jab your thumb at the iridescent wings strapped to your back. 

He nods reverently. “Ah, but of course. You’re made of faith and trust, magic and whimsy, my ethereal little pixie.” 

You blink once, twice. Wonder if this loon pregamed the pregame, or if he’s just naturally this ridiculous. Nami takes another shot of vodka, and Sanji’s eyes track the curve of Nami’s neck as she gulps and sighs.

Damn it all to hell. You debate stealing the bottle and drinking from it like a heathen. Nami was right. You are most certainly not drunk enough for this. 

Nami and Usopp’s friends are… Well. They’re something, alright. You met the duo in college and fell in love with their snarky energy, but their non-college friends? You pan your head from Sanji and Zoro, who are halfway to beating each other’s faces in in the middle of your kitchen, to their springy friend Luffy, who’s quite literally bouncing off the walls. Yeah… You try to avoid them when you can.

But. Tonight’s Halloween. The one day you’re legally required to make bad decisions. 

So, more alcohol. You tug the bottle from Nami’s death-grip and take a healthy swig. “What happened to ‘not being a fucking heathen?’” She quotes, mirth bubbling in her voice. 

You open your mouth to say something unbelievable witty and dry, but are interrupted. “Who’s fucking heathens?” Someone behind you asks. Both you and Nami turn to face Luffy, who’s leaning over the back of your couch, upside down. 

“Nami,” you deadpan, at the same time she intones your name. 

Luffy laughs, boyish, but also… Not. His hair’s pulled towards the ground, black curls pulled back to reveal thin brows and half-lidded eyes, and the expression is a little… Sexy. Somehow. Impossibly. Kinda lazy-like, with a shit-eating grin, and it’s... 

You clear your throat, feeling a bit warm. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your brothers? Y’know. Hosting a party right now?” You ask. Luffy chortles. In your peripherals you can see Nami considering you, undoubtedly smelling blood in the water. 

“Nah. Ace n’Sabo threw me out ta stop me from eating all the snacks,” he says. His words aren’t quite slurred, but come out as a drawl, low and intoxicating. You have no idea how this man did a complete 180 in the span of 30 seconds. It’s giving you serious whiplash.

The front door opens once more, and Nami lets out a little squeak. Ah, that’s probably Vivi and co. Hmm. Dimmed lights, a sultry voice warbling over the speakers, intermingling with the occasional drunken shout… This is turning out to be a successful pregame. 

Nami jumps off your lap, stealing the bottle from your hands one last time. Her limbs tremble before she inhales deeply, steeling her nerves.

“Have fun,” you say, shooting her a look. 

“Oh, bite me,” the vampire snaps, then stalks off to go flirt with Vivi. You silently wish her luck (the amount of times you’ve had to listen to her hopelessly pine is staggering) and turn back to face Luffy again, a twinge of uncertainty in your gut.

He’s dressed like a football player, you realize. It’s a good look on him. His jersey is neon yellow and trimmed in green, but the color’s not as obtrusive as it might be in brighter lighting. And it shows off his lean figure, which is. Nice.

Appreciative as you are of his frame, you’re thinking up exit strategies by the minute. This is uncharted territory. You can count the number of times you’ve had a one-on-one conversation with the man on a single hand, and, don’t really feel like stumbling your way through small talk.

“You’re glowing,” Luffy notes. “S’pretty.”

Never mind. This is cool.

“Thanks,” you say, sheepish. “It’s the body shimmer. I’m a fairy.”

“A pretty one.”

Ah, fuck. 

You don’t really feel the alcohol all that much, but there’s a pleasant buzz floating through your body, and it’s making you a little more… susceptible. To simple compliments like that. It has your heart stuttering, but in a good way. You want him to say it again.

“What, that you’re pretty? ‘Cause you are.” He nods. “So pretty,” he concludes; dark eyes sweeping over your frame. 

Did you say that aloud? 

You blink. Rack your brain for something coy to say. “You’re, um. Yeah. You’re pretty, too.”

Fuck.

Luffy laughs at that, and you’re grateful, because you are totally off your game tonight. But he doesn’t seem to mind, just leans in closer, still upside down, and it gives you an open view of the column of his throat. Golden brown skin, taut and firm until he swallows. You tense and back up a little to see his whole face.

He’s close, incredibly close. You can smell the Corona on his breath as he exhales. And you don’t really kiss random people at hangouts after only like, two compliments, but your brain is starting to consider him the exception. 

You pull in your bottom lip reflexively, and his eyes dip to your mouth, tracking the motion. His pupils dilate. He looks, he looks hungry.

Fuck fuck fuck—

The door opens again and more people trickle into the apartment, pulling you out of whatever weird ass trance you were in, and you curse. Is this a pregame or a party of its own? The fuck. 

You lean back, hands seeking purchase on the couch cushion to support you, but maybe you’re a little more drunk than you think you are, because you completely overshoot it, body tipping toward the floor. Your head spins as you realize in real-time that you’re about to eat shit, squeezing your eyes shut before impact.

Somehow, quick hands race up your body and flip you so that instead of falling on your back, you’re braced on top of something, cushioning your fall. Your eyes open. Luffy grins from beneath you.

You’re straddling him, you realize. Make to get off him, but his hands tighten on your waist and then loosen. A suggestion. 

You stay. 

Everyone’s eyes are on you, searing into your skin, but they’re nothing compared to the hot hands sliding down, palming your thighs. You don’t know whether to be mortified or grateful that you chose such a short dress. Luffy hums appreciatively.

Grateful it is.

Time to do some damage control.

“Mind your own business,” you hiss, looking up at the room. Everyone returns to their previous occupations, albeit reluctantly, sneaking glances out of the corner of their eyes.

You turn your gaze back to the man underneath you. “How the hell did you do that?” You accuse. It should be humanly impossible for someone to perform such complicated maneuvers—while inebriated, mind you!

He just shrugs. “Didn’t wanna hurt your fairy wings, did ya?”

That is. Ridiculously sweet. 

“Fuck,” you say. It just slips out. 

Luffy’s eyes sharpen. “Yeah?”

“What?” Your breath hitches. God, you sound wrecked. 

Luffy waits a beat. Runs calloused hands up and down your thighs, and you just barely contain yourself from shuddering in his grasp. But it may be for naught, because you’re melting like putty in his hands. 

He yawns, then licks his lips. “Wanna make out?” He asks abruptly. 

It’s at this moment that you wonder exactly how you wound up here. What choices did you make in your life to end up like this? Splayed out on your apartment floor, surrounded by tipsy acquaintances, straddling the most bizarre man you’ve ever had the misfortune to come across? Fucking Halloween, man. This might just be the most humiliating thing you’ve ever experienced. 

...

You say yes.

In the end, you don’t end up making it to that party. 

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖ #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #tw: alcohol #tw: drinking #m.luffy #m.op #off the cuff;

[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary | D.L.

Pt. II

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: language! patching up an open wound, mentions of blood, wound descriptions, fluff OOOO, also angst because he knows you don’t like HIM, kinda proofread but idk..

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3.1K

gif not mine!!!

A/N: Low key insane this is the first fic I write that isn’t smut ☠️ also sorry for posting this a day late mb…

———————

“Dammit,” You spoke as you quickly lifted your water bottle up from your desk. It had spilled all over your research papers and ruined some of the fresh ink.

“Fuck.”

You had already spent a little over an hour trying to get your information together and you needed a break. Grabbing your headphones, you made your way to the little sofa you had sitting by your window and took out a comic.

It was rare, but it didn’t take long for you to get bored, you had read this specific issue many times. The music made it that much more boring and you were getting restless. Cracking your window open just a bit, you heard the soft chirps of the birds and crickets outside, feeling some of the cool breeze enter into your room. The sun was set and there was still some twilight left over the New York skyline. You lived a few blocks from Dave, getting a decent view of the city although it was blocked by a tree near your window.

Soon after you had opened your window, you felt yourself getting drowsy, that breeze and the sounds of the night settling in almost made you doze off.

The state you were in wasn’t fully conscious, but you weren’t quite asleep either. You heard a faint sound outside your window, like some big bird just fell onto your roof. You tried to ignore it and relax, but soon you began hearing faint taps at your window.

How odd.

Your eyes slowly opened, allowing your pupils to adjust to the soft fluorescent light.

“Please,” You heard someone whisper, in that moment your eyes shot open and you jumped out of your chair, turning to your window.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You almost yelled, keeping it quiet enough not to alarm your parents. Kick-Ass.

“You said I could—“ he groaned quietly, wincing.

“You said I could stop by if I needed something,” he sighed.

“What?” You questioned, confused at first until you noticed one of his gloves covered in blood, clutching his side.

“Please, you said…” He paused to take a breath, “Your mom’s a nurse, right? I—I can’t go to the cops or the hospital.”

“Well—I mean yeah, she’s a nurse, but… If she helps you she’s gonna end up telling someone.”

He only stood there and waited.

“I can patch you up myself,” You swiftly moved forward to open the window, allowing the boy into your room.

“Agh, fuck—” He groaned, you helped him walk over to your bed.

“Hold on,”

Setting a towel on your bed, you motioned for him to sit down, grabbing his batons from his back and setting them to the side. You ran to your closet to grab a cloth or anything similar.

“Here, put this on there with pressure, okay? I’ll be right back.” You gave him an old shirt and left your room to find a med kit your mom had somewhere downstairs.

He noticed the shirt you gave him and smiled softly. It was an old shirt you had matched with him, well, Dave, in middle school. It was really oversized when you got it, so it still fit. He was surprised you hadn’t thrown it away. It was a Robin shirt, himself owning the Batman one. He remembered how much you loved Robin.

Kick-Ass sighed as he waited for you, holding the shirt to his wound with as much pressure as he could to stop the bleeding.

“Okay,” you spoke out of breath, closing your door and locking it.

“Um…” You looked at him awkwardly, and he waited for you to continue. Clearly in pain.

“I’m gonna need you to take your suit off.” You informed, it was only necessary.

“Okay…” he hesitated, “I can’t really take the suit off...by myself,” he breathed. You could tell that speaking was quite the chore.

You moved towards him, helping him take his gloves off one at a time as either of his hands held the cloth to his wound. Sitting behind him, you unzipped his suit, pushing it off each one of his shoulders.

Woah.

His back was very well defined and it took everything in you not to graze your fingers along his muscles. He felt this, trying to hold in a smile.

“You’re gonna have to let go for a second, okay?” You warned him. Kick-Ass let go of the cloth on his cut, clenching his teeth as you pulled his suit down to his hips. The blood caused it to stick to the wound, it seemed to burn as you peeled it off.

“Shit,” He sighed in pain, taking a deep breath as you soaked a small towel in a little bowl of soap water. He frowned as you brought it up to the gash on his side.

“This is really gonna sting, so you should use something to bite on.” You handed him the cleaner glove and as soon as he bit down onto it, you began dabbing the cloth onto his injury.

He let out a significantly loud groan through the glove and tears welled up in his eyes, his breathing quickened due to the sharp, stinging pain of the soap seeping into his wound. He was seeing stars.

“Okay, we’re done.” You spoke, turning back to the med kit to take out a gauze pad. “This cut is too big to heal on its own, I’m gonna have to stitch it up…” You looked at him to make sure he was okay with it. He only nodded. You continued to dab at his skin to remove all the blood around the slash to see it clearly. It was a cut right above the chiseled area of his iliac furrow, a few inches to the left of an already healed scar that seemed to appear like another stab wound.

“You okay?” You asked him, just to make sure. He nodded once more, removing the glove from his mouth and smiling weakly as you grabbed a needle and suture. You noticed he had a pretty nasty cut on his lip, and his eye was starting to bruise.

“This one’s gonna hurt even more, right?” He joked.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Are you ready?”

Kick-Ass clenched his jaw, locking eyes with you for a moment, “Yeah,” he grunted, keeping his eyes glued to yours.

You pierced through his skin and his back straightened. Choking out an agony-filled moan, he threw his head back, his hand flying to cover his mouth. Your eyes widened looking up at him.

“If my parents hear you, it’s over.” You whispered and he nodded, chewing on his lip.

Continuing the process of piecing him together, he kept whining about how much it stung even with his fucked up nerve endings.

“Of course it’s gonna hurt, dipshit! How the fuck did this happen to you anyway?” You questioned.

“Oh y’know, some muggers with a knife. Guess they were serious about taking that lady’s bag.” He chuckled.

As you drove the needle through him one last time, he inhaled a sharp breath, gripping into your sheets for his life.

It was quiet for the moment in which you cleaned up, putting everything away and leaving out some bandages to put on him.

You could feel his gaze on you, but goodness, were you scared to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you looked, you’d wanna lean in and kiss him.

“Thank you,” He said, watching you intently as you got up to take the med kit back.

“No problem, Kick-Ass,” you smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Your smile was super pretty and holy hell was this mask giving him confidence.

“I’m gonna go put this back, the bathroom’s right outside my door to the left, incase you wanna wash your face or something.” You made your way to your door and left it slightly ajar, so that no one would hear it open while you were downstairs.

Kick-Ass slowly limped into your bathroom, finally taking off his mask after closing the door. His face was covered in blood, so much more happened than some muggers with a knife. Frank D’Amico’s men had tried beating him senseless, but he oh so fortunately got away due to a patrol car nearing the area. Yes, he had made sure no one followed him to your home. He wouldn’t know what to do if he was the reason some fucked up kingpin tried to hurt you.

He washed his face as best he could without getting any blood anywhere, his left eye beginning to grow a soft red color.

You knocked softly on the door, “Hey, just come back to my room when you’re done. My parents are watching TV so you should be good.”

“Thanks.” He answered, staring at the door.

Guilt began to overcome him. He was lying to you, not only in keeping his identity from you, but in making up some bullshit about getting jumped by some "muggers."

He wanted to tell you it was him, but he found the thought embarrassing, maybe you would call him pathetic for this whole Kick-Ass thing, even the thought of coming to you when he had no one else was enough to make him cringe. He would rather get stitched up without anesthesia again than have you react badly and get angry at him for lying to you.

Sitting at your desk waiting for him, you finally heard the bathroom light shut off, the door just then clicking open. He limped into your room and you quickly ran to help him sit on the edge of your bed.

You grabbed the gauze, pausing and taking a look at him for a second. Goodness gracious, he was an Adonis of a man. He had really well toned arms, his abdominal muscles very defined as well. He was quite the specimen. And his eyes. The way he looked up at you, like some lost puppy, it made you melt.

“Um, just lift your arms up a bit,” You cleared your throat, embarrassed of the way you were thinking in such a moment.

He lifted his arms and you put the gauze over his now closed wound, grabbing a roll of bandages to wrap around his waist.

���Hold this here,” you told him as you knelt in front of him. Pulling the white fabric around his side, you had to move closer to him in order to reach for it with your other hand behind his back.

You tried focusing on what you were doing, but he kept staring holes into your head. His hand twitched, wanting to brush a stray hair from your face to see it clearly but he held back.

After wrapping the bandage around his waist a few times, you used some medical tape to keep it in place.

“Alright, I’m almost done.” you spoke, finishing up.

Kick-Ass spoke your name with a light tone. This startled you and you looked up at him to see what he was going to say. He only looked at you, glancing at your lips before looking away and it caused your heart to beat a million miles a minute.

“Thank you...” He finally moved his eyes to meet yours, a look of guilt upon whatever you could see of his face.

“I’m really sorry…” He frowned, looking at the ground next to you.

“It’s not your fault, Kick-Ass,” you reassured him without even knowing what he was talking about.

He shook his head as if he was about to speak but the two of you could only watch each other those following moments, your faces moving closer together like magnets. You didn't know why it felt so right in the moment, but you quickly leaned up and kissed him.

He slightly jumped but immediately kissed back. His lips were so plush and smooth, they felt like clouds. And he kissed you like no other boy had ever kissed you before. He kissed you with emotion, he didn’t just kiss you for the sake of kissing. Even if he wasn't the best at it.

The fabric of his mask brushed against your chin as he tilted his head to the side, moving himself closer to you. You felt like he was going to pull away because you were already starting to feel the need to breathe, but he kept kissing you.

Resting your hand on his chest, you felt his heart beating rapidly under your palm. You stood up, causing him to have to lean upwards in order to keep his lips attached to yours, but the movement caused him pain, making him release a grunt and quickly pull away.

“Sorry,” you apologized, referring to the kiss and the wound. He stared at you in utter surprise.

From now on, Dave knew he would look at you in a different light. Why’d you even kiss him? And what gave him such a desperate urge to keep his own lips connected to yours?

He chewed on his bottom lip, "It's okay..." He replied softly.

“I shouldn't have done that, right...? I—It won't happen again—“ You rambled, suddenly cutting yourself off and picking up the empty packaging of the bandages to throw them away and keep yourself busy.

Kick-Ass watched you pick things up with his jaw hanging, still trying to process the kiss and why he... Enjoyed it?

“You can do it again, if you want.” He mentally screamed at himself, why the fuck would he say that!?

You whipped your head around and stared at him from across the room, your face heating up like the Titanic's boiler room.

"I haven’t kissed anyone since like… sixth grade, so…" He chuckled.

Hiding a smile, "Yeah…that was kind of obvious." you spoke, scrunching your nose.

"Sorry." He looked away while giggling at how pathetic it was.

“It’s okay…” you smiled.

You sat next to him. "Everyone needs practice…” You said suggestively.

Turning to look at him, you saw that he was already gaping at you.

"Yeah..." He kept his eyes on yours this time. The reason he was so afraid to do so before was because he felt vulnerable, like you’d know it was him just by his eyes or something.

“So…” you began, “can I kiss you..?”

“Yes—“ he replied a little too quick for his own comfort. “I mean…Yeah.”

You placed your hand on the side of his neck and moved your head closer to his. You noticed him watching your mouth as it neared his, the palm of his hand coming to press against your lower back as you finally connected your lips.

He kissed you softly, innocently, almost like he was afraid you’d pull away if he kissed you any differently.

Moving one of your hands to rest on the back of his neck, you slipped your fingers under his mask, feeling a bit of his soft curls.

You just wanted to kiss him, missing the feeling of someone's mouth on your own. He felt the same, he didn’t feel judged on the fact he was kind of a shitty kisser.

The two of you sat there for a minute, his calloused hands moving from your waist to the sides of your face, the tips of his fingers playing with the shorter hairs on the nape of your neck.

“I hope you don’t hate me,” he breathed, mumbling against your mouth.

“Mm-“ You made a sound of confusion.

You began to realize why he had said it as he brought his hand up to the hem of his mask and began tugging it upward. Quickly pulling away, you reached for his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t do that…” You watched him, slightly alarmed.

His heart dropped, “Why not…?” he spoke, uneasy.

He couldn’t lie to you. Yeah sometimes he hated your guts and wanted you to just shut the fuck up, but today was a completely different story. He changed in the way he saw you. With everything that had just happened in the past ten minutes, he couldn’t lie to you.

“What if I tell someone? How can you trust me if you barely even know me…?”

But he did know you. He knew you enough to trust you, and that there was no way in hell you would ever tell anyone a secret entrusted to you. But he didn’t want to argue with you. Not as Kick-Ass.

“Fine. Sorry...” He apologized.

"You should probably get home... It's kind of late." You suggested looking at your hands as you fidgeted.

“Yeah,” He stood up, grunting as he pulled his arms through his suit to put it back on. “Could you…” He was nodding at you, referring to the back of his suit where the zipper was.

You pulled the slider along the teeth of the zipper, enclosing him completely in his suit.

He turned around to face you “Thanks…” He watched you for a moment. “For patching me up… And stuff…”

You chuckled, “No problem.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomor—or uhh, whenever I need you again—or whenever you need me,” He stammered, realizing what position he’d almost put himself in. “I’ll just see you.” He chuckled, swallowing hard as he grabbed his gloves and batons and turned to your window.

“Will you be okay to get home?” You watched as he limped by your window. “I could walk with you… Until we get to your neighborhood or whatever.”

“Uh—No, it's like a 10 minute walk. I’ll be fine. Thanks though.” He smiled softly, beginning to climb through your window as he held his side.

You thought about that. There were no other neighborhoods within ten minutes of walking, so he had to live here. That means he had to go to your school. And that means you have to know him if he said he was your age. Holy shit.

“Kick-Ass?” You rested your palms on your windowsill as he crouched down to look at you from your roof.

“Do you go to Fillmore?”

He paused, staring at you like he’d just been caught.

You felt your hands getting clammy.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke again.

“Do I know you…?”

He stayed silent. All you could do was take it as a yes.

“Weren’t you just getting mad at me for wanting to take my mask off?” He shot back.

“Fuck, you’re right. I’m sorry.” You looked down. “I’ll… I’ll see you around.” You pursed your lips.

He smiled back softly and made his way off your roof and out of your view.

You sat back down to finish your homework, somehow taking three times as long because the only thing on your mind was those beautiful blue eyes of his. And who else in your school had them.

———————

Thank you for reading!! x

#dave lizewski #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson #kickass fic #kickass x reader #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski angst #aaron taylor johnson fic #fanfic #writing #iz writes #dave lizewski fic #angst #fluff

[j0kers-light]

Hello! Could I ask about scenario where The Joker has been very distant lately to Y/N always busy and almost never around her anymore which left reader very confused and upset. (((Now obviously he’s not cheating or anything like that he’s just too busy with his sick twisted plans on how to take over Gotham or something —but ohh well your insecurities get the best of you))). It’s been about good 3 months since she saw him he wasn’t replying to her texts and when you called him it always directed you to voicemails. It could be only two things he could’ve moved on from you or he is too damn busy to even pick up your calls…. So you decided to go on a date with some rando to push your feelings aside. Because at the same time, you couldn’t just sit around and wait for The Joker, that was just stupid. You aren’t even sure what’s going on?? It was exciting at first, in the heat of the moment because you were a bit attention-starved to be fair. But now as you’re getting ready you’re having second thoughts about it all and how risky it could be. Joker is a very very jealous and possessive man and he could be literally everywhere you knew he had his goons looming around you to make sure you’re safe. But you gulped those thoughts away and went out anyways. Well that was worst decision of your LIFE as long behold he found out …..now it’s up to you how you continue and interpret all this because I’m really bad at it (sooo sorry) he either ruins the date or is waiting for reader at her apartment….literally however you want it you can even change some stuff in the middle I really don’t mind 🙏🙏 I just need more jealous joker in my life (I have serious issues) it could be angst fluff smut🤭🤭🤭🤭or even everything as I said I really don’t mind. Thank youuuuu✨💕🪷

His Lighthouse: J Stands for Jealous (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

J Stands for Jealous - Oneshot

Did someone ask for some Jealous!Joker wayy back on Sept 5th? I come bearing gifts with an unexpected twist!! 🤧 please don’t hate me anon if you don't like it!

Get ready for some angst, fluff, and of course Jealous!Joker but not in the way you think... I won't lie this was a tricky request to fill but in the end, I went a different route with jealousy! I hope you enjoy! 🖤✨

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist!

The number you have dialed has a voicemail box that has not been set up yet. Please try calling again later.

You groaned in frustration and tossed your phone on the bed. If your hair wasn't up in protective braids you would've ran your hands through your hair. When did it get like this? Calling, waiting up, and wishing for a smidgen of communication from Joker– only to receive absolute silence?

Joker being distant was putting things mildly. He had up and ghosted you.

One night you were kissing him goodbye and the next GCN reported that Joker had gone M.I.A. Funny how he was seen two days later shooting at Batman's tank of a car down Dini Hwy but sure.. Joker was 'missing.'

Joker was actively terrorizing Gotham City streets, he was only M.I.A from your life. A part of you wanted to create a missing person's report but that wouldn't end well.

The entire GCPD force would be breaking down your door by the time you uttered, "Yes, I haven't seen my boyfriend, The Joker, in months."

You weren't quite sure who put a label on this ill fated relationship but the minute it was established, everything started to fall apart.

You would lie awake at night thinking about the downfall to you and Joker's relationship. Maybe you should have been content with the uncertainty and kept things vague. Not knowing where you stood with the infamous clown— but still together, was better than a missing boyfriend and an empty bed.

You found yourself watching the news like a drug addict trying to catch a glimpse of your man to make sure he was alive and well.

Perhaps he was just busy with his sick twisted plans on how to take over Gotham or whatever he does when he's out messing with Batman. You couldn't bear the thought of Joker cheating on you.

If Joker was cheating on you with Batman, you'd kill your self with a spoon but J really wanted the vigilante dead so you breathed a bit easy on that front.

That didn't stop you from freaking out anytime Joker grabbed a female on live tv. You watched with an envious eye for any inkling of Joker being attracted to her. Killing the poor girl put your mind at ease but then you'd feel awful for your lack of remorse. For now Joker had eyes only for you. But how long would that last was the burning question.

It became a vicious cycle of waiting for Joker to come home, calling his cell, it going to voicemail, or him straight up ignoring your texts, to crawling into bed and trying not to cry about it. But you couldn't deny the inevitable.

Joker abandoned you and you weren't some heartbroken blonde in an early 2000's romcom.

You refused to cry and mope around the penthouse. You would not stoop to eating buckets of ice cream and gorging on assorted candies to overcome your heartache.

You happened to be a young, sexy, and intelligent woman of color with access to online dating apps! There were plenty of eligible men in Gotham who would kill to be with you.

You can and would move on. Screw Joker and his inability to provide basic necessities in a relationship. Being present was a requirement!

Your hurt feelings morphed into petty vengeance and you snatched your phone from where you tossed it earlier in a blind rage.

Your thumb hovered over Bruce's profile until you sighed and scrolled past it. No matter how much you wanted to rebound date anyone to get over Joker, Bruce didn't deserve your toxic energy.

So you kept scrolling until you found the DO NOT CALL EVER AGAIN and the GURL HAVE YOU NO STANDARDS contacts. You should have deleted these contacts ages ago but you simply forgot.

You almost hit the dial icon on one of them until you swore you heard the front door slam shut– but alas it was just your broken heart playing tricks on you.

Joker wasn't coming back and you had to accept that to move on. Your thumb hovered over one of your past tinder hookups.

"This is stupid! Just call the number, Y/n. If he answers, then flirt! He's a classic tool, he definitely won't care if this is only a one night stand. Get what you need from him and onto the next one!"

Your pep talk was good but you just couldn't commit. Even after Joker left you high and dry, it felt wrong to move on.

You threw your head back and groaned at the ceiling.

Why did you have to love Joker so much?! You still clung to the possibility of him returning and loving you unconditionally but that was a fool's dream.

"He's gone Y/n. Maybe a walk will help clear my head and do me some good." It seemed to be a tried and true coping mechanism whenever your head was in a tizzy. It's what got you in this relationship in the first place.

You went out to clear your head and met Joker that fateful night. If the chance rose to go back in time and avoid meeting Joker, you'd hesitate to do so.

He gave you so many fond memories. You couldn't erase that even if it saved yourself from heartbreak now.

You donned some good walking shoes that matched your current outfit and headed down to the ground floor.

It was a beautiful morning and you let your mind disconnect to breathe in some fresh air. This is what you needed. Some time spent outside and not cooped up in your depressing apartment thinking about your failed relationship.

You felt more like yourself already the longer you stayed out.

You were mindless during your wandering and you didn't notice your surroundings until strong hands grabbed and yanked you back onto the sidewalk.

You yelped at the unexpected rescue and tuned out the honking and the slew of curses a taxi driver shouted at you through his window.

What did your carelessness cause this time? You were using the designated crosswalk and you had the right of way, so what gives?

Your eyes followed the bulky arms still holding you, up to a handsome face animated in concern. It was then you noticed the guy who saved you was talking.

"—be more careful! These taxi drivers don't yield to pedestrians anymore. Hey.. are you listening to me?" He eyed you up and down, mostly in concern but admiring your beauty all the while.

You were doing the same. A ray of sunlight beamed down and highlighted your hero's honey brown eyes and you blinked in awe at his model-like features staring at you.

Finally someone was giving you attention and the man was drop dead gorgeous. Who could blame your brain for malfunctioning?

He smirked at your lack of response and flashed his pristine teeth your way. He was checking off all of your requirements for a potential partner so far or perhaps your standards were just at an all time low. A flaw of your separation anxiety no doubt.

Joker was the last thing on your mind when this man was in front of you giving you attention.

"Uh sure.. um.. T-Thank you." You said after a few beats of awkward silence.

"Don't thank me just yet. I gotta say, I'm thinking impure thoughts about you." He said.

You quirked an eyebrow at his brute honesty although his baritone voice made you forget in an instant. You were a sucker for a sexy voice and much to your delight, he kept talking.

"Sorry, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? Because d__n. You are."

Another checkmark on the 'yup he's datable list.'

What were the odds of someone as attractive as him showing you affection ever again? You were lonelier than ever before and quite frankly you were ready to risk it all for an ounce of attention.

You ducked your head to hide your smile and he wanted nothing more to tilt your chin up and see it in all its glory.

Your smile was so radiant, he was a goner at a mere glimpse.

"I'd love to know your name, your number.." He sucked his teeth and admired your beauty, "your favorite position in bed..."

He probably meant to say that last part more so to himself but you still heard it.

You had to pump the brakes on that one. "Easy there.. At least take me out to dinner before you slut me out." You laughed in jest but he leaned into your personal space, taking your words seriously.

"Oh bet? What're doing later?"

Wait, that pickup line actually worked? You were so out of practice.

You shielded the sun from your eyes and stared up at your newfound crush. He was waiting for a response with a flirtatious grin etched on his face. So you gave him an answer.

"You tell me. What do you have in mind?" You flashed him another smile that rivaled the sun.

He chuckled and subtly moved so he blocked the sun rays for you. A small gesture that you instantly noticed. He was tall but not overly so like Joker. You hated your brain for comparing this new guy to your estranged clown but you couldn't help it. 

Would this be a new habit; comparing insanity to normal? You really missed Joker..

"Confident and sexy. I like that. How about..." The guy dug inside his pockets and procured a business card. He clicked a pen and jotted something down on it before handing it to you.

You were so caught up in his charm that you didn't acknowledge his attire.

He was dressed for the office with his dress shirt folded up to his forearms, showing off veins that made you swoon, and a hint of ink crawling up his bicep. The writer in you was having a seizure.

He was the perfect sexy corporate alpha male and he locked down the troupe by handing you his business card with a wink.

"Get home safely, call or text me– whichever you prefer sunshine, and we'll make plans for tonight. Sounds good?" He waited until you read the embossed cardstock in your hand.

Tristan J. Price. | Marketing | Court OwlHouse Books

You knew the publishing company personally. They presented you a nice offer before Cindy counter offered with a contract that you couldn't refuse. You pocketed his phone number and nodded.

"Yeah, it sounds great! I don't have a card but um.. my name's Y/n." You played with one of your braids and went for it. "I'll call you later, Tristan."

He tested your name on his lips. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I look forward to it."

You gave him a small wave and began walking back the way you came. Something told you to look back and sure enough, Tristan was watching you leave, biting his lip. He had no shame at being caught. His smile just grew bigger as he sent another wink your way.

A whirlwind of butterflies were going crazy in your stomach. You finally had options besides Joker for a partner. Things were looking up for once after all these months spent alone.

You flushed in embarrassment and turned the corner– not once noticing your undercover security detail watching your every move and reporting in.

Above all, Tristan was a gentleman and a shameless flirt.

You didn't waste time and called him the second you got home. He was more than pleased with your eagerness.

"I'm glad you're home safe, sunshine. Now let's talk business. Any allergies I need to be aware of? I really want to go all out and take you somewhere nice. You are definitely worth maxing my credit card."

You laughed and tried not to let the nickname used get to you.

A subconscious part of you was still Joker's Light, his Bunny, and every other pet name in between. You had no business being someone's sunshine. It felt like you were betraying Joker.

Talking and flirting with someone else was an act of betrayal and you began to have second thoughts about all of this.

"Girl! Joker has clearly moved on! Get over him and let Tristan bend you over!" Your mini devil appeared on your coffee table and tried setting you straight.

She enlisted help from her arch nemesis and you were shocked when your figurative angel materialized next to her, nodding along.

"She has a point Y/n. It's been months. It's time to move on although.. I suggest taking this slow so no bending on the first date." She glared at your imaginary devil in disdain.

Tristan stole your attention when he asked if you had been to a certain restaurant. You totally forgot you were on the phone with him! You were quick to reply and shake your head clear of any imaginary angel and devils talking to you.

You and Tristan talked all afternoon and at one point you asked if you were keeping him from work.

"Technically I'm on a very important conference call Y/n.."

You could see his flirtatious smirk over the phone and your heart warmed knowing you were important enough to take up his entire day.

You didn't mind the long conversation since you've been alone for months and needed human interaction. You honestly didn't care that things were progressing way too quickly with Tristan. It beat moping around with a broken heart and wishing for Joker to return.

Tristan was a breath of fresh air and offered you a new start in your dating life. You were ready to jump all in even if it was risky.

You nodded and answered his question. "Yeah Σtella is perfect. Will you make the reservations for us or let me guess. You know a friend of a friend that can get us a table on short notice?"

He laughed to himself but mentioned he did have connections, 'None like that I'm afraid.'

You could tell the connections were nothing nefarious since Tristan didn't have a single criminal bone in his body. After being around Joker for so long you could single out people's evil intentions. It was one of the many habits you had to quit cold turkey.

It would take some time to purge Joker from your life but you had to. He abandoned you and you couldn't dwell on it anymore.

Tristan ended the call to make the dinner reservations. He offered to pick you up but you politely declined.

Something told you it was best to keep him far away from the apartment until you knew for certain that Joker wasn't coming back. You were still optimistic that your dark clown would return and things would go back to normal but until then, you had to fend for yourself and take care of your own needs.

A black dress was selected from your closet with a low back. It would go great with your braids and the heels you already picked out. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready and desperately trying to shake off your cold feet.

Halfway through your glam session, Tristan texted you with a time and a suggestive line about saving room for dessert.

It made you flush red and make a split decision to change your underwear into something more racy.

If tonight was just dinner that was okay but if Tristan turned out to be a man of action and not just all talk, then you wanted to be prepared. You could be a slut for one night. It's secretly what you wanted.

You twirled in the mirror and liked what you saw. A strong confident woman moving on and taking the initiative.

You liked Tristan and he made it very clear that he liked you too despite just meeting earlier in the day. He wanted to see where this could go and you readily agreed being attention and touch-starved due to Joker's absence.

You were ready to date again but you did stop and consider the possibilities of Joker finding out.

Joker was very possessive and he had eyes and ears all over Gotham City. It would be nothing for him to find out you were going on a date but his actions as of late showed that he didn't care anymore. Joker ignored your numerous phone calls and texts.

Each one went unanswered. It was safe to say you were single now so you would act accordingly.

But with all the guesswork floating in the air, you weren't going to think about Joker tonight. He was banned from your mind. Tonight you were going to have fun and enjoy yourself with another man and begin anew.

Tonight was about you and your needs. If Joker couldn't provide, you'd go out and find someone who could. You kept that thought in mind all the way to the restaurant.

"I still think that waiter was staring at you too much. I get it, you are stunning– d__n, this dress will be the death of me– but my brother. She's on a date with me. I'm the luckiest man alive!"

You tried your best to ignore his happiness and keep things cordial. The two of you had come to a stop at the main entrance to your apartment complex.

"This is me." You pointed to the locked door.

Tristan admired the tall white building with a nod but there was an awkward air floating between the two of you. You just wanted to go home, Tristan was expecting more from the date.

Unfortunately Tristan was terrible at reading your body language. Or maybe you were just a good actress.

"Y/n did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" It was a lame excuse to stay in your presence a little bit longer. You awkwardly laughed and dodged his hand reaching up to hold your cheek.

By all accounts dinner was textbook perfect. Tristan was ever the gentleman all night but his eyes were anything but. He listened to you talk and sprinkled in his opinions all the while complimenting you as a person.

There was a connection between the two of you and he made sure the conversation kept flowing to allow that spark to grow. Yet his eyes devoured you as if you were the main course and gave away his true intentions.

You wished his lust could ignite a flame within you; it didn't.

The food was amazing and you lost the fight on who would foot the bill. Tristan simply winked and said you could pay next time.

He was so confident that there would be a next time, you found yourself almost agreeing on another date. Everything was just so natural with Tristan. Normal was... nice but you longed for the unpredictable insanity that Joker brought to the table.

You shook your head in frustration. No matter how much you tried to forget about Joker, he was always in the corner of your mind, bearing down with his larger than life presence.

Even in the restaurant you felt like he was watching your every move.

You knew Joker's stretch of power knew no bounds. Your stomach was in knots at the thought of being discovered. Joker's goons could be anywhere; Joker himself could be seated at any of these tables ready to ruin your date, kill everyone in the vicinity, and drag you back home.

The possibilities were endless and before you knew it, you were in the early stages of a panic attack until Tristan cupped your cheek and distracted you.

Tristan was right there with his suave demeanor and sultry smirks.

"You okay sunshine? I hope you're not having second thoughts about the chef's choice. If you don't like it, you can always order something else." He smiled in the low lit room.

Any girl would fall head over heels for a man like Tristan. He was attractive, successful, and he had an air about him that was alluring. He was the perfect man, that is, if you liked boring.

Joker spoiled you for other men. You could never go back to charming businessmen or witty accountants.

You didn't want someone you could bring home to Mom. You were hooked on grease paint, cigarettes, heartache, and dark clowns that blew up hospitals for fun.

It was either before the main course or after one of Tristan's stories about his latest project that you realized, this wasn't going to work.

You smiled through the date out of respect and waited until he walked you home to let him down softly.

Tristan was a great guy, just not for you. Even worse, the guy was oblivious to the fact that you weren't interested anymore.

He was unfazed by your change in demeanor and flicked a wayward braid back over your shoulder. "I'll tell you again, you are gorgeous. I'm kinda tempted to take this dress off and see what's underneath. I bet she's beautiful too."

He moved in to hug you while you stiffened up in his arms. His attempts at flirting were now trashy and rude in your mind.

You didn't want Tristan anymore. You wanted Joker's warm arms holding you close— although you felt awful for still craving Tristan's attention. It was all you had. Could beggars be choosers?

Your hands wrapped around your date against your better judgment. You'd regret this later for sure. Your eyes wandered around the area as you berated yourself for stringing Tristan along.

Hugging him back went against your plans of kicking him to the curb and going upstairs to sleep off this terrible date. Your big citygirl plans of moving on were all for naught and you wasted perfectly good lingerie for a lame rebound date.

The street lights were on and oddly enough, it was just you and Tristan on the street.

The area usually had foot traffic even at such a late hour but it didn't register in your brain as odd. It was only when Tristan's hands moved to cup your backside that you locked eyes with a figure across the way.

He had a hood on but you saw him shaking his head at you in disappointment.

He lifted his head and your eyes widened seeing the familiar clown mask Joker always left lying around the penthouse after heists. That's when dread settled in your stomach.

You forgot Joker had eyes and ears everywhere. How could you be so stupid? He never left. You yelped and pushed Tristan away.

"Woah! Is everything okay, sunshine?" Tristan held up his hands while you began to hyperventilate on the sidewalk.

You didn't imagine things. Joker was still in your life. He was the most jealous man you ever met and you did the unthinkable and gave him a reason to be angry. You weren't safe. Tristan's life was in danger.

"I-It's not safe. I-I-I have to go..." You rambled on.

Tristan arched an eyebrow as you stumbled over your words. He couldn't understand a word you were saying but he knew all too well what was going on here.

"I get it." He smiled and gained your attention with his calm attitude. "I got competition, I'm not surprised. I mean look at you! You are... something else." He frowned when you continued to look away.

He hoped he wasn't being too forward but he felt the spark between the two of you.

Tristan leaned down and kissed you on the lips. It was passionate and sweet, a tad bit addictive but you were too mortified to acknowledge that aspect.

"Have a good night, Y/n. I'll text you later." Tristan gave you one more glance and walked away, leaving you frozen in place.

Tristan had it all wrong. There was no competition however he just signed his death certificate kissing you just then.

You were worried about your psychopathic, jealous boyfriend killing Tristan and then you for cheating. Joker had explicit rules. No one touches what's his.

Not only did you go on a date with someone else, you let that same man kiss you. You knew exactly what was in store for you.

Your eyes darted back across the street where you last saw the goon. They were gone and that sent icy cold fear in your veins. It was only a matter of time that Joker found out about your little tryst.

You were counting the days to your death.

You couldn't sleep to save your life.

It had something to do with the fact that you tossed and turned, gave up and paced the room back and forth, sat up expecting a phone call, text, heck; even a visit from your jealous clown all night. But nothing came. Surely your security detail had already reported his findings to Joker.

If you opened a dictionary and searched for Jealousy, a picture of Joker would be present. It was only a matter of time before J flipped out. You kissed someone else. Joker would be livid.

The silent anticipation was the worst.

You chewed your nails to the quick expecting Joker to barge into your penthouse and go insane. Scared was an understatement. You were petrified of Joker's wrath.

For two days, you walked on eggshells expecting Joker's return. He didn't and as the days grew in number, you panicked all the more.

Tristan also ghosted your phone calls and texts and you mourned the potential romance you gave up all because you were spooked.

You didn't question what you saw that night. You knew Joker's gang mask by heart and Joker was overly protective for it to be some fluke. He made sure you had a security team to watch over you at all times, no matter the circumstances. He would find out soon enough what you done.

Waiting for Joker's arrival was driving you insane to the point that every little noise made you jump.

It was nearing a full week after your failed date when you gave up and lowered your guard. You cut your losses and decided to stop living in fear. A good nap could calm your nerves.

The remnants of the day were bleeding from the sky in warm pastels when you woke up. The room was quiet until the bathroom door opened and your eyes darted over in fear.

Joker was walking out the bathroom, already dressed in loose sweatpants and nothing else.

He was towel drying his hair but immediately locked eyes with your frightened ones once he stepped into the room.

Time stood still as your brain caught up with the moment. You weren't dreaming. Joker was actually here. You weren't ready to face him.

Granted this was not how you expected to reunite with Joker after three months of radio silence and especially not after your brief moment of infidelity.

"J-Joker... you're home." Was all you could gasp out.

He looked the same, albeit a bit fatigued. He was devoid of makeup, letting you see the pure exhaustion etched on his handsome features and the unmistakable hurt swirling in his vivid green eyes.

One look therein had you self aware. Of course Joker knew. Nothing got past him.

"Please, I-I-I can explain!! You were gone for months and I t-thought.. I thought you didn't want me anymore. That you moved on! I was such an idiot! I.. Joker that date meant nothing, regardless of what your henchman told you–"

Joker said your name with such a dejected tone it made the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. "Y/n, shut. Up."

Joker tossed his towel across the room and didn't care that it barely landed on the leather couch before falling to the floor.

He'd worry about that later. His Light was on the verge of hysterics and he was not in the mood.

Joker walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed when you flinched from his touch but he cupped your brown face in his hands nonetheless.

"Y/n. Calm down and look at me." You slowly opened your eyes to glance at J. He was patiently waiting, blinking owlishly at you with an unreadable look.

You couldn't get a good read on Joker and that made you fear him more. Joker noticed and decided to go about this as plainly as possible to not scare you further. The last thing he wanted was you to fear him.

"I know about your... date. 'M not mad at you doll, rather.... at myself for allowing it to happen.Ya see.. I never wanted to leave." He sighed.

You blinked in confusion but let Joker continue.

"I didn't abandon you, Y/n. Never. I'll never do that. I got caught up in a errr.. pickle.. that kept me from my Light. I stayed away to protect you." Joker's thumbs gently stroked your cheekbones as you looked at him in shock.

His rare genuine smile spoke volumes. "It was toooo risky to come back soooo I stayed away. I tried to message ya but it was sabotaged and.... The point is Y/n! It was not my in-tent-ions to leave you all alone. I will always come back to my Light. Believe that pretty girl."

You felt like the biggest fool in all of Gotham. Joker was out risking his life to make it back to you and you gave up on him.

How was he not angry? It didn't make any sense.

"You weren't there. You were gone for months and I felt so alone. I was hurt and..." You tried not to get emotional but Joker's gentle touch and the way he stared straight into your soul with those abnormal green eyes of his was getting to you.

Joker's soothing touch had you breaking down in record time.

"I couldn't help myself! T-Tristan didn't mean anythi–"

In seconds, Joker's tender hold on you turned aggressive. His hands slid down to your throat and squeezed tight before you could finish your sentence. Your startled gasp rang out in the room.

"Don't.. ever say another man's name in front of me! I'll kill him. I'll do it. You. Are. Mine. You got that?" Joker waited until you croaked out a yes before loosening his grip. It was then you saw just how jealous Joker really was. His calm, cool, and collected attitude was all an act.

Underneath his exhaustion was the Jealous psychopath you knew and loved.

He sighed and let go to fuss over you. He smoothed your braids in place and nodded to himself when you were presentable and breathing properly. You were frozen in shock. He didn't even hesitate hurting you.

Joker's fluctuating mood was befitting his personality but it still made you wary. You eyed him sideways and Joker whined knowing you were thinking bad bad thoughts about him.

"M'sorry bunny I just... Argh! You just needed some attention, I. Get. It.. I'm not angry. I'm. Not. Hey.. ya wanna know a little secret?" You slowly nodded and Joker smiled wide before leaning in, almost as if he were to whisper in your ear.

"It was torture for me too. All those nights spent a-parT? Mmm I was thinkin' about you." His fingers played with yours resting in your lap.

"Really?" You asked.

Your mind quickly forgot about his random spurt of anger a moment prior, in favor of his suggestive tone at present. Joker was here and he was finally giving you attention. What more could you ask for?

He knew you loved his hands (and he knew you were touched-starved) and made sure to keep contact with you as he spoke.

"I missed my Princess and I knoooooow–" He yawned mid sentence, "..you missed me. C'mere, my Light. I wanna hold ya."

You hid your smile witnessing Joker be so unguarded and so unlike himself. You could tell he didn't sleep at all these past few months. Dark circles weighed down his gorgeous eyes and he literally made grabby hands at you. It was refreshing to know you weren't the only one touch-starved here.

Joker was the world's lightest sleeper. He could only sleep a full eight hours if he had his Bunny to cuddle up with. You had just woken up yourself but Joker needed his rest and he needed you.

You fell into his arms and he quickly maneuvered the both of you so he lied on the bed with you nestled on his side. You tossed your leg over Joker's hips and he held it there, rubbing his hands along your plushy thighs.

His hands became restless and began re-tracing all of your curves, (as if he could ever forget them in such a short amount of time) and came to a stop at the crown of your head. He hummed contently and left a kiss in your hair.

"I'm sorry you felt alone, Bunny. The plan wasn't supposed to take that long 'n especially not months. I can't promise I'll be able to return quickly, but I will always come back to my Light. Just... just don't give up on me, mkay?"

You nodded and glanced up at Joker. His eyes were closed, yet you knew his focus was solely on you. To prove your point, he opened his eyes and stared directly at you.

His emerald green eyes were drowsy but you could tell his words were sincere. His unique speech pattern was nonexistent the longer the conversation went. You had a raw and honest Joker lying beneath you.

So you decided to be honest in return.

"I promise, J. I won't give up on you. I only want you."

"Gooooood." He closed his eyes again and repositioned his head better on the pillows. "Cuz no one touches what's mine. Expect your uh.. punishment later." He yawned.

"What?!!" You tried to get up but Joker's arms tightened around you, keeping you lying atop of him. You wiggled in his grip and he growled in warning.

"J, I thought you said you weren't mad at me!"

He didn't see you pouting, however his hand still came down hard on your thigh. The sharp sting made you yelp in shock.

"I'm. Not. But ya still need to L-earn a lesson. My Bunny can't be sneakin' off and.. playing with others while I'm away. Tsk. Tsk. I'll uh f__k ya when I wake up. OH! You should rest too. Heh, you'll need your energy."

His warning hardly held any weight with the boyish grin plastered on his face. Without his clown makeup, Joker was a sight to behold.

You would prepare yourself for his tough love later. Right now you wanted to bask in Joker's presence. Three months was too long without him.

You snuggled up closer to your clown and began running your fingers through his hair. He loved when you did that. He was already snoring by the time you leaned up to kiss one of his scars.

"I'm just glad you're back." You whispered.

#thanks anon! #thanks for the ask! #ledger!joker x reader #joker your yandere side is showing #ledger joker x reader #joker x y/n #black!fem!reader #reader insert #dark knight joker #joker x reader #heath ledger #romance #ledger joker #jealous!joker #clingy!joker #give this man a hug #you weren't expecting this were you? #a different spin on jealously! #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #his lighthouse #heath joker