Random thought that I want to share. Okay here goes. While Bruce loves seeing Batmom in lingerie and lace he absolutely loves seeing her in her comfortable underwear, no bra oversized T-shirt and natural hair in a pineapple. It just turns him on even more 
Warnings: There's not smut but it's a little steamy
Word Count: 0.7k
"Bruce, are you listening to me?" The answer was no. He was not listening. He couldn't even pretend to be listening. How could he when his wife sat in the middle of their bed in nothing but a pair of underwear and one of his old Wayne Tech t-shirts? This in combination with her tight coils being put up into a pile on top of her head was a dangerous combination for Bruce.
"Would you believe me if I said yes?" He asked, sitting at the foot of the bed. He felt Y/N crawl behind him before wrapping her arms around his neck.
"No," She said, placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek. He smiled softly and leaned into her touch. Something about her relaxed him and he was forever grateful for her.
"Okay, I wasn't. What's happened today?" He asked with sincerity in his tone. She hummed in approval of her husband paying attention to her. She started explaining to him how she checked on the various charities they ran before spending the rest of the day with Thomas, Martha, and Alfred.
"Your kids gave me a run for your money. I thought the twins teasing phase was bad, but now, I'm constantly running behind them," She admitted. It was true, the twins were little terrors except with Damian. For some reason, he was the only one that could keep them in line.
"I'm sorry. They'll grow out of it. We can always ask one of the boys to come in town for a week to help out," Bruce offered, tilting his head slightly so that he could look his wife in her face. Every day he was reminded how lucky he was to have her.
"I know but I don't want them to feel like they have to help. Bruce?" Y/N noticed her husband had a dreamy look in his eye. It was rare and reserved just for moments with them. His eyes always softened looking at her, it was like he had forgotten how cruel the world had been to him.
"Hmm?" He hummed, his steel blue eyes never once drifted from her face.
"Nope, I know that look. Uh-uh, you aren't putting another one of your big-headed babies in me," She spoke with certainty as she released her husband from her grasp. She slid back towards the headboard of their bed and crossed her arms. To Bruce, this only highlighted the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Good to know, he thought to himself.
"First of all, why are they always my kids? And what look?" He knew exactly what she was referring to. He began to make his way to her until he could lay with his head on her thighs. She ran a hand through his damp hair, raking her nails against his scalp.
"That look is how we ended up with Martha and Alfred in the first place." She reminded him.
"No, that was my Gotham University shirt, the knee-high socks, and the goddess braids," Of course, Bruce remembered her exact outfit when their twins were conceived. What kind of husband would he be if he didn't?
"Bruce!" She jokingly hit his shoulder. Memories flooded back from that night so many years ago. If she remembered correctly, the two of them had discovered a new position.
"What? I'm being honest. Now let me take care of my wife, please," He rolled over to his stomach and placed himself between her legs before pressing a small kiss to the center of her underwear.
"Bruce?" She shifted her hips lower to put her pussy directly in front of him. He nipped at her panties and pulled them down her thighs, nearly throwing them out of the room. He grinned as she spread her legs a bit more.
"I'll pull out," Lie. He'd simply make it so she'd be begging for him to finish inside of her. The only thing that was more exciting to him than her in his clothing was the thought of her being pregnant with his child.
Oneshot Summary: Your possessive Step-Father Bruce Wayne decides he cannot bare you leaving for college...so he leans on a friend who shares the same obsession for you. He offers him a deal.
Oneshot Warning: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, CNC, Grooming (all characters are of legal age.) Bondage, P in V, Oral Sex, Threesome, Exhibition, Vouyerism, pseudo-incest between step-father & step daughter, pimping if you squint, breeding kink if you squint. No condoms/unsafe sex.
Word Count: 10.2k
Author Notes: This is a gift for @cardierreh15 after a playful dare. I hope you enjoy this babe 🥺✨
Gently laid on soft satin bed sheets, your thoughts were consumed with the evening discussion that you had during supper with your step-father Bruce and his best friend Clark, followed by the unexpected marriage proposal Clark had made. You were surprised Clark had wanted your hand for any other purpose than for your step-father’s wealth– you would have never guessed his feelings for your because he was usually so calm and friendly with everyone. Yet he had asked you softly if you would consider being his wife with a warm smile, and you knew he was serious from the glint in his eyes. It was like your lungs were drowning with how difficult it was to breathe.
For the first time, your heart stirred, void of fear and worry.
You didn’t outright decline his offer, but a decision of this magnitude deserved more than a hasty reply. You had to think this through being that you were so caught if guard in the first place, so you demurred by saying you needed time to think about your official answer. After all, you were just a month away from starting college. You wanted to be a journalist like Clark despite Bruce’s protests and alternative encouragement for you to remain home and attend charity balls with him. Besides, Clark was a bit too old…a little younger than Bruce but both men still had twenty years on you.
If age wasn’t the defining taboo, you had noted Clark was a gentleman who had the ability to make you laugh. If anything was to happen to Bruce or Alfred, you felt Clark would be the most reliable shoulder to lean against.
You rolled over and sighed, you held your blanket up to your chin and continued to ponder.
Clark Kent...he would be a decent husband, but did you have feelings for him? He was rather charming and undeniably handsome. It was something that you would probably lose sleep over in the future.
Clark had approached the topic very calmly, almost shyly, and Bruce had seemed to be expecting this. That made it obvious to your that Clark had asked your step-father first, and Bruce would not have let his best friend ask you if he did not approve first...Bruce in fact was smiling at dinner and that smile fell when you have your polite neutral response.
Suddenly the wine he had let your drink felt a little sickly in your belly. You excuses yourself as soon as you could to your bedroom.
You rolled over in your sheets and sighed softly, snuggling up under the thick duvet and nuzzling the thousand-dollar pillows. It confused you, but the more you thought about it, the less absurd it became. You giggled. Clark would make a very good husband, and you would be lucky to have someone such as him, of such a good but firm character, always with an easy smile or an encouraging word for you. And he had always been a good friend to you, respecting your interests in writing, sometimes babying you, which girls your age might find annoying but you didn’t mind.
The boys your age were so horny and stupid...immature. it was impossible to see them as providers for the families that they claimed to want for themselves.
So saying “yes” to Clark would feel a little weird to you, but what real reason was there to say no? Did you have someone else? You might’ve shared kisses along your teens in highschool, yet none of them swept you off your feet enough to like them.
You were just glad that Clark had agreed to let your think about it. His smile had been relaxed, and he showed no anger or resentment. His eyes did appear tighter, other than that it even seemed as if he had expected your hesitation and was willing to wait. Clark was always so understanding, why wouldn’t he be about such an important question like this?
You shut your eyes with a smile.
★★★
Meanwhile, the men remained downstairs in the library, in front of the fireplace, and Clark looked across the flames at his best friend.
“Are you sure you still want to go through with this Bruce?” he asked.
The men had known each other for years and had grown a close bond in friendship and other activities. And if course it was bound to slip from one man’s lips to the other about their depraved thoughts, desires and fantasies....it turns out they shared a common denominator... You.
Over a month ago they were sitting in the same place discussing the same issue about to occur...losing you.
They knew if you left for college, you’d meet some cocky asshole studying to be a lawyer or doctor, get pregnant, get married quickly only to suffer a uncommitted marriage and end in a heart breaking divorce.
What type of men would they be if they watched their favourite girl fall to such demise as that!?
Bruce had married your mother when you were fourteen and he was the best dad you could ever ask for. He helped with your homework and taught you to swim while he paid for your mother’s chemo therapy.
When she died three years ago, you’d just finished highschool. You were totally shattered and put off summer break and college until you knew you were prepared. But now Clark had dumped the marriage proposal.
Clark sighed. His best friend's idea wasn’t totally a surprise to him. Bruce had planned this.
Clark recalled how Bruce was constantly looking out for you; his protectiveness as a stepfather, while perhaps misguided, was undeniably apparent. It was clear that he cared about you deeply and had shown no interest in any other woman since the passing of his wife—your mother. Clark often caught Bruce gazing at you with a loving and compassionate gaze, as if he were contemplating the best way to look after you.
During those days Clark was scared to share his own perverse thoughts...oh how the man wanted to look after you. You always were so lovely around him, so eager to gain his attention and praise, perhaps as another fatherly figure she could cling to...It wasn’t hard for Bruce to see that Clark loved you dearly and was clearly proud of your accomplishments. Clark was proud like a second father.... Except he wanted to do things no father should ever do to their little girls. He almost lost it one day when he walked in on you, on your hands and knees scrubbing the carpet before Alfred could find the stains you’d made when stealing some red whine from Bruce’s cellar. Your skirt was a tad too short, the hem pulled up over your ass cheeks and crotch. Clark held back from ripping those white nylon leggings with those cute pink panties and shoving his cock deep in your tight cunt.
He wondered if Bruce ever found out about the stain...he touched himself imagining Mister Wayne spanking his wayward little minx of a daughter over his knees.
Clark wanted you. Bruce wanted you and the moment they both figured it out, neither of them could judge each other for their thoughts....
They decided Clark would ask for your hand and the billionaire of Gotham would give his best friend his blessing – on one condition.
The idea was foul and taboo, and Clark was not sure whether he should deny to it or not. But this was his best friend, the loving step-father who cared about the young woman Clark wanted to marry as much as he did if not more. You had shared things in the past, and whenever you had debated or ‘fought’ over things, it was always light hearted, and never bitter.
“Of course I do, if not now then not ever Clark....” Bruce replied with a brief nod, “Tonight might be the only chance we get.”
Clark nodded slowly for a moment. Yes, he cared for you and had done so for a long time. He was happy that when he asked, you had not acted with shock or revulsion. But you had seemed surprised and hesitant, and he could not blame your for being shy and uncertain.
“What if she says no?” he asked.
Bruce’s eyes darkened, “She will...at first. Are you capable of pushing through that Kent?”
The super man smirked sickly. Of course he could. Clark nodded.
“She is going to be scared,” Bruce replied with certainty as he slowly turned his head towards the stairway out in the hall that led to your wing of the mansion, “I have been expecting this since her mother died, I doubt she remembers that night…”
Clark sighed, “I recall you letting her drink. She was a giggling and crying mess when I carried her to her room to have a nap.”
Bruce curled his lips inward, and he nodded. The silence grew strained.
Clark’s eyes furrowed in curiosity, “Bruce…are you hiding something from me?”
“She…” his friend paused, his grey eyes grew hazed as he looked into the flames, “When you left, I went to check up on her,” he thrummed his fingers on his chin, “She was touching herself Clark... and I caught her and…well…she…” his eyes met the other man again.
Clark sat back in his leather seat, his throat bobbed, “You watched until the end?” the was no judgement merely a question to acknowledge what had happened.
The other man nodded again and continued, “I came in after she finished, she was half out of it. So when I tucked her in, she kissed me…fully…and…god Clark…she- she’s so beautiful, I can’t watch her go off to college.…”
The journalist exhaled and clenched his jaw.
And Bruce sighed, “That’s why my little girl is going to be pregnant tonight.”
Clarks eyes widened, his lips parted hesitantly. That was not in the original plan...He paused and struggled to find the right words. Bruce had given Clark the greatest opportunity and the wrong word would revoke all that granted privilege.
“We both care about you,” the billionaire sucked his teeth, “Forget what the tabloids will say. They are hypocrites with absolutely no moral sense. Afterall mr superman, aren’t you rubbing shoulders at the daily planet, surely you can take care of the backlash? We aren’t blood related and c’mon we have a right to her better than anyone on this cold spinning rock. With my wealth and your muscles, who else would take better care of her? No one else!” Bruce said fiercely, although his voice was a whisper, his eyes narrowed slightly.
Clark found himself frozen in place, his eyes locked on his friend’s face. It took him a moment to process all the emotions and thoughts that surged around inside him. Finally, he managed to nod his head slowly, as he tried to take in the unexpected turn of events.
“Okay Wayne,” his lips broke into a dark chuckle, “Lets go put a baby in our little girl.”
The wooden door your bedroom creaked open slowly. A bit of light from the hallway made its way past Bruce’s bulk form, illuminating his step-daughter’s face. When he whispered your name, you did not stir, and he smiled to himself. He turned around to Clark and nodded. The two of them moved forward stealthily. Bruce carefully slid his arms under the blanket, finding your form before scooping it up. You stirred but did not wake. Bruce carefully carried you to his master bedroom, a place he scarcely let you enter for the obvious reason of what he kept secret in his drawers. Clark shut the doors and locked them, heaven forbid Alfred managed to walk into this event.
It would be more comfortable here for the three of you, and warmer with how Bruce kept an electric fireplace and big flat screen tv on the wall. The flames continued dancing cheerily as Bruce gently laid his step-daughter down, looking at you with a small smile.
Several moments passed before Bruce lowered his hand, gently moving his hand under your nightie chemise, his hot palm over your stomach. The mattress dipped on both sides keeping you balanced. Another set of fingers creeped up your thighs. Since the touches were so gentle, you did not stir so easily. Clark watched silently, his heart pounding as Bruce slowly lifted your hem up showing off a set of fresh underwear he allowed you to buy with the allowance credit card.
A cute pair of cotton white panties with a soft yellow duck print on top of the crotch. Clark swallowed hard. His thumb scarcely brushed over your damp apex. A small wet spot was beginning to spread. You softly cooed, still not awake…surely dreaming of something naughty by what Clark could smell.
Bruce glanced at Clark before looking back at you, and carefully untied the small strings that held the top bust of your nightie closed. His hands were steady as he parted the folds.
And there they laid their eyes on your breasts, Clark had to hold back a loud sharp intake of breath. Your nipples were perfect, and he found himself craving to suckle them. Your nipples hardened slightly as the slight coolness of the air tickled them.
You groaned softly, your eyelids fluttering open. You shifted and rolled over onto your side, looking around in confusion.
‘Where am I? Where’s my cuddle pillow?’
You rubbed your eyes and registered that you were with your step-father and Clark…on Bruce’s bed…. Both men were staring down at you silently, and you gasped when you realised your nightie was open. You held back a shriek and quickly whipped it closed before shoving the hem of your nightie down past your knees.
‘What am I doing out of my bed and with my chest exposed? Why we my nightie up so high? Did they see my underwear?’
Bruce's faint smile and Clark's gentle expression might have brought you ease, but the situation was too strange.
‘Why was my nightie been untied and opened? Why was it so far up my legs? Did one of them do it?’
The idea was...absurd. But what else would have happened? You were not in the habit of sleepwalking. You tied your nightie closed and quickly sat up, looking at the two men.
“I um…Is...something wrong, Dad?” you asked oh so innocent and naively as you sat up, feeling Bruce’s thick blue cotton blankets under your body. Bruce’s large and callused hand gently grasped your upper arm, softly stroking it as if to comfort you. His kind smile stayed on his face, unmoving even as he shook his head. His quiet demeanour continued to soothe you with each moment, despite the overwhelming emotions swirling through your mind.
“Nothing is wrong sweetheart, you-…” he breathed, his other hand caressing your cheek. Your step-father was an affectionate man, giving your mother and you hugs often whenever you wanted them, but in all these years...he had never caressed your cheek like this. His thumb ran softly over your lips intimately.
Briefly turning your head to inspect Clark, you found there was nothing about his body language denoting immediate danger. He even leaned in slightly and rested a hand on your knee, shifting even closer toward you.
You sighed softly in comfort...until he said, “You...Don’t need to be afraid....”
Your eyes widened, “Be afraid of what?” you asked. Like some strange horror, the dotes were slowly connecting. The air around you felt taut. You were confused and even Clark could hear how your heart was beating faster, anxiously. Your lips parted slightly, but what could you say, surely they weren’t going to…were they? Why were they looking at you in that way? Why did they look so...hungry?
Bruce smiled and leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead directing your attention back to him. Without answering your question, he tilted your chin up and sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss, his lips pressing against you in a firm manner.
Your eyes popped wider as you suddenly pulled away from the kiss. While other boys had given you tender kisses before in your youth, none had done it quite as passionately as Bruce, your own step-father. His kiss was gentle yet deep, unlike anything you had experienced before. The sensation of his tongue inside your mouth and the minty flavour of his breath filled your senses, making you feel both awkward and ashamedly excited.
Having predicted the situation, Clark quickly got behind you. You felt his thick toned arms snaked around you in a caging hug, holding you firmly in place. Bruce smiled and put his hands on your hips, leaning in and quickly resuming the contact of your lips. You couldn’t lift your arms to shove him away. Your head was pressed against Clark’s chest, unable to break free although you wiggled about furiously, trying to move to the side.
Clark's arms held you in place firmly, pinning your own arms. His hands were spread across your chest and stomach, while his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.
“Good girl,” he praised, “Stay nice and still for Daddy and me hm?”
He ducked his nose a deeper and traced his lips along your soft skin, kissing along the shape of it as Bruce deepened his seductive French kissing for a moment before breaking it. You had been unable to break it since his hands cupped your face. A soft whimper escaped your lips as Clark started licking along your earlobe, and you gasped softly when he suddenly blew on the wet trail he had just left.
“Easy baby, you need to calm down… Please,” Clark whispered softly, kissing your neck and ear as Bruce placed light kisses along your cheek.
Your step-father smiled and pinched the front of your nightie down and open just a bit to expose your shoulders and collar bone, which he lavished in more wet kisses.
The attention being given to you by both men were gentle, but the whole situation was frightening to you. You knew you should’ve tried to bite their ears, but how could you harm them? The two men you cared about? The man stroking you was your step-father, how could he want to do this? And more importantly, how could Clark just let it happen?
“Please,” you jerked your head back, fruitless from breaking away from their searing kisses, “Let me go...I need to sleep...” you whimpered softly.
“Sh- shh-hh...” Bruce shushed hotly, suckling gently upon the part where your neck met your shoulder. The skin there was sensitive, and you gave a soft cry when you felt him nip gently.
“... D-dad, Clark I-, please...don’t” you whimpered. You turned your head to look up at Clark, looking for an answer. Clark merely gave you that warm, wide smile and captured your lips, closing his eyes as he kissed you with a gentle passion.
Your lashes fluttered, his lips were soft and he was not nearly as forceful as Bruce. He coaxed you to comply. The tiniest of moans left your mouth and filled his.
You shifted again as your step-father worked at your nightie, tugging it open some more. You gave out a weak mewl when Clark broke the kiss. You trembled under Bruce’s dancing fingers.
“Did- did I do something wrong? Why are you doing this to me?” you asked, the corners of your eyes watered. Had your step-father been expecting you to say ‘yes’ to Clark? Was he mad at you? Why was he also here kissing you like this?
This was your own step-father, the man who had raised you since you were fourteen. The man that had married and fucked your own mother. The betrayal felt like a deep and sharp cut. Is this how he saw you? Just some girl he could manipulate when she was of consenting age? You felt sick...and angry. It was practically incest, it was an abomination!
You could barely contain the whimpers and spurting tears rising.
Your question was ignored as the two men made short work of your entire dress, two pairs of hands removing it while keeping your restrained. You could barely contain your squeals when the fabric ripped. Bruce grunted as he tore through and tugged the damn thing from your goosebump skin.
Clark's hands caressed your belly while Bruce's moved to cup your breasts.
Bruce gave a shuddering breath and weighed them in his hands. They were so soft and succulent. He had dreamed of doing this to you many times, for so long during your sweet innocent hugs he’d sneakily brush his fingers against your chest whenever he could to steal and imagine how great your tits would one-day feel in his hands.
All of his expectations were met, and exceeded. And there was still more to see, to explore.
“Please, tell me! Why!?” you demanded. Clark's grip on your arms were gentle but very firm, and you could not scratch either of them. Bruce smiled at you fondly. He cupped your cheeks again and cooed.
“You have done absolutely nothing wrong babygirl. This isn't a punishment. See... We both want you to know how much we love you,” his face leant for and licked at your salty cheek.
“And it’s not like you have a good reason to say no to Daddy and I.” Clark whispered while Bruce fondled your breasts, pinching the hard nipples between his fingertips in a careful way. Clark peered down at what his friend was doing and observed your soft breasts. He was eager for his own turn to feel them, but he was not going to rush his friend. They had agreed to share and be fair about it, and he knew Bruce was a man of his word.
“… No good reason to say no?” you asked, your heart pounding, although your question was barely more than a whisper. They both nodded. Clark smiled and kissed your cheek before touching his nose against it in a loving nuzzle.
He cupped and massaged one breast, giving a brief nod to his friend before shifting his eyes towards your other breast.
Clark moved one hand and took your right breast, which Bruce had offered, and began to fondle it while Bruce played with your left one. Bruce was firmer in his kneading, and Clark was gentle as his fingers skimmed along the underside of the mound, as if he was afraid of hurting you. Both hands felt so good on you, and you squirmed around, afraid to submit to any pleasure from this shocking situation.
“Please... please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Alfred, please let me go now. Let me go. Leave me alone! I'm your step-daughter! Bruce! Y-you’re meant to be my Dad!” you pleaded, trying to get through to your step-father as he gave your breast a very firm, although not painful squeeze.
Bruce chewed his bottom lip and moved away. He got off the bed and watched his best friend touch you. He tugged at his tie and unbuttoned his blouse. His chest was covered in dark and silvery hairs. He fiddled with his belt buckle. His trousers fell to his ankles. His hand dove into his briefs.
Your eyes flooded with more tears. You were staring at Bruce’s erection.
“Come on princess...You know we won’t hurt you. Ever... Don’t be scared, relax, enjoy and be a good little girl…” Bruce said softly, climbing back on the bed he reached out and started caressing your arms.
You couldn’t help it, you screamed and tried to kick your step-father away with your legs as hard as you could. You hated that you had to hurt him like this. Clarks heavy hand clamped down on your squealing mouth
Bruce shook his head, slapping your kicking heels away. His lips curled into a mean sneer as he leant forward and tweaked your nipples, sending a jolt of pain through your chest.
You yelled out behind Clarks hand, trying to bite down on his palm. He didn’t flinch once. His nose flared, he was a little irritated with your teeth sinking into his skin.
“Better stop screaming sweetheart or Daddy’s going to have to put a gag in that little mouth of yours,” Bruce ground between his gritted teeth.
Your pleas were not doing the trick, and your desperate kicks weren’t either. They both played with your breasts and Bruce chuckled, drawing your nipple into his mouth and sucking firmly on the hard nub.
Clark bodily drifted his hand down between your legs, touching your duckling and creeping down further to your damp crotch. His fingers strong and hard, lazily rubbed in circles. Both of them seemed acutely aware of the pleasure that you were feeling at their attention even as you pleaded with them and tried to deny it. It only spurred them on and made them want your more.
“Daddy, stop it!” you wailed, “This is wrong and you know it too Clark!” you flung yourself backwards and tried to push the other male off you.
The man let your nipple free and looked into you's eyes. It had been so long since you had called him 'Daddy', having abandoned it for 'Dad' or just 'Bruce' in later years.
“Pumpkin…” he said, grabbing your wrists, giving Clark enough time to move away. Bruce pushed you back hard onto the mattress and sat on your ankles, holding your wrists down as he clouded you in his body. He hovered above you. You trembled violently, weeping hard.
“This is going to happen, and there’s nothing you can do or say to stop it,” his head lifted, “You finished stripping Clark?” he asked.
Your eyes flashed up. Your point of you made the world appear upside down. Clark sat his glasses on the bed side table...it was the last thing he wore.
“Bottom drawer, there’s a roll of duct tape.”
Clark nodded and pulled it out. The colour surprised him ...it was pink. Clark planned to use it on you one way or another, no matter what
Bruce trailed his nose across your face and pressed his lips to your forehead, “Trust your Daddy. Have I ever done anything to you that proved harmful?” Bruce asked softly, his blue eyes filled with a pleading for your understanding. You fell silent as you slowly shook your head whimpering and breaking down at the tearing sound of the pink duct tape. Bruce pushed your wrists together. The sticky sensation bound around your wrists tightly. He had always been such a loving step-father. But this went past the bounds of a step-father.
“No... b-bu-tt this-s... we're n-not...d-daddy, y-youre meant to be m-m-my dad-daddy...” Your voice was breaking, a soft pathetic whine as you pleaded, “Clar-k h-elp me.”
Bruce’s eyes glanced up at Clark. A tiny nod. Another rip and the tape was pushed flat against your sobbing mouth.
Clark rejoined you both on the bed and held your hands down for Bruce as the man bent down taking your nipple into his mouth again, his tongue rubbing it firmly as he suckled. A chest rattling gasp was muffled behind the tape.
Clark held you, massaging your other breast. You started to feel the fiery tingle between your legs. You were a virgin, but you were not stupid, and had touched that special place before...shame filled your mind because truly how much of a monster were you for being aroused by... your own step-father?
Despite the pleasure, you were afraid. You wiggled against Clark, twisting your arms and whining softly.
Clark's hands were gentle yet firm, and he held you in place even as you twisted. He moaned softly against your neck, and you felt the underside of his arousal along side Bruce’s, both touching the outsides of your thighs.
"Bruce...I need her,” he whispered, “Let me fuck your precious princess?”
The older man corrected softly humming, “Our precious princess.”
The two strong men lifted you up slightly from your laying down. You tried weakly kicked at them again before feeling Bruce slap the inside of your thigh and point a stern finger at your face.
“Enough. Don’t make me throw you over my knee babygirl.”
You sniffled and started to hiccup behind the tape gag. The tiny jerks from your body every time you hiccupped made the men’s faces soften.
You were forced to sit up on your knees and lay forward against Bruce’s chest. When Clark tugged your hips backwards, your bum was angled to the sky while your stomach laid in Bruce’s lap, your legs at either side of his torso. This caused your chest to be nestled into Bruce's lap, your breasts pressed against the hard hot flesh of his cock. You were effectively sandwiched between them, and wiggled around, trying to not think about your step father’s cock touching your nipple and switching against your skin.
His large hands touched your shoulders and laid it on your head, patting your hair softly. Clark's hands were at your rear, rubbing and kneading the cheeks and parting them slightly as he felt the pert rump. A soft playful spank made you jump and whine. You started sobbing again, wiggling against the firm grip of your step-father as he tried to soothe you. One of Bruce's hands cupped his cock and rubbed his precum into your swollen nipples.
You tried to kick at Clark as you felt his hands on the waistband of your panties, and you turned your face away from your step-father's throbbing erection that Bruce was raising to rub along your wet salty cheek. You tried to use your hands as leverage.
How was you supposed to get out of this situation? It was clear what they wanted to do and also clear that they would not be deterred. The combined forces of two fully-grown men, strong super humans at that, against that of a young woman, was quite overwhelming. They were not letting your go, and that was that. Bruce chuckled as Clark slid his step-daughter's panties down, exposing your pert ass. Clarks mouth looked dry...his tongue flicked out.
It was rather a lovely sight for Clark, and he sighed contentedly as he reached down to stroke your lower lips. You moaned softly, you used your knees to get away and to launch yourself up Bruce’s body. You managed to bury your face against your step-father's chest and the crease of his armour as you felt Clarks hot breath along your little glistening slit.
Soon Clark's fingers rose up to pet your wet pussy. He caressed the throbbing mound gently, fingers slowly pulling apart your slick nether lips. With one arm, he hooked it under your stomach and lifted your hips, forcing you back up higher on your knees. This allowed him to see your womanhood more clearly.
“How's it look?” Bruce asked calmly, stroking your hair and back in an attempt to soothe you, forgetting his own throbbing arousal for the moment as he tried to quieten your sobs.
“Ohh, Bruce, our little girl is so perfect,” he moaned, grinning as he gently felt your inner flesh with a finger. Your inner flesh peeked out shyly from your outer lips, like the petals of a flower. Bruce could not help but chuckle at Clark’s response as he ran his fingers along your spine, feeling your twitch and hearing a soft shudder come from the tape gag. He pressed his lips to your brow and hummed.
“Yea darlin’,” he broke into his relaxed southern drawl, “You goin’ tell daddy about how you probably used his credit card to wax this pretty pussy?”
Bruce’s eyes widened. His jaw dropped as he looked down at your eyes, pleading up at him wetly.
“It’s a real sculpted love heart...now who on earth is this for huh? Only little sluts get groomed like this,” Clark sat up and leant of you and Bruce. His lips pressed to the corner of your tapped lips, “Are you a little slut baby girl.”
Muffled sobs emanated from the girl as you pressed your face against your step-father’s chest and Clark paused. The men exchanged smirks.
“Have you let some boy fuck this cute hole Baby girl?” Clark breathed, softly, a mocking tone to his voice. He touched your side with his free hand, the other remaining at your mound but being idle, the finger now pulled out. Bruce looked down and gently tilted his step-daughter's chin up to look into your eyes. You looked very lovely with tear-stained cheeks, you had never looked more beautiful his eyes. His hand slowly ran along your cheeks, wiping your tears as he looked down at your tenderly.
“Sweetheart...My lovely little girl. You’re not in trouble, tell us the truth...” he said, softly, caressing your face. Clark bit his lip gently and resumed stroking your rear and your thighs, soon going back to rubbing your hot folds. There was no denying the pleasure, and he felt wetness.
You whimpered softly as you shook your head no while you succumbed under the gentle assault of four hands, all caressing and touching you in the most intimate and gentle of ways.
It was strange, they were not supposed to be doing this and you had been trying to fight them off. And despite all the fear, despite all the rough man handling, despite their mean mockery and degrading humiliation...your groin felt alive....You felt good,
You glanced back over your shoulder at Clark. He met your eyes and smiled. He pressed his lips to your forehead while his fingers were stroking and rubbing your intimate areas in a way that caused your to become wetter.
You hadn’t noticed how your crying was being replaced by snotty sniffling, and mewling moans.
Bruce smiled down at you when you turned your head back to him.
You felt his hand cup your bicep, pulling your bound hands up. You stretched your fingers. He held up his erection and pointed it to your palms
“Touch me baby,” he encouraged softly, “I trust you.”
You whimpered softly and shook your head, giving a sudden gasp with wide eyes as one of Clark’s fingers wiggled into you.
“Please...?” he purred lowly, smiling as Clark pressed second one inside and slowly scissor your insides. You let out a low shuddering moan as your step-father gently grasped your wrist, leading your hand to the swollen cock. Clark continued sliding his fingers in and out of you, before adding a third. Your walls clamped and tightened. You let out a soft hiss and were unable to stop yourself from pushing against Clark’s hand. The man then angled his fingers as he thrust them in slowly, causing them to press against a spongy place on your inner wall that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
Bruce smiled, his hand cupping over your bound hands so you were forced to grasp the base of his erection. You tried to remove your hand – but of course, to no avail. His thick rod was very warm and solid, you made a small noise as you felt it throb under your hand. You squirmed slightly under Clark’s attention, finding it difficult to breathe as a wave of pleasure washed over you.
Clark peppered a flood of gentle kisses along your soft cheeks as he thrust his fingers into you. Your step-father released a soft moan.
Your hand tightened and rubbed your step-fathers shaft weakily. Your shuddering breaths and fluttering eyes told Bruce everything he need to know about how well Clark was treating their special girl.
Your fingers slowly slid up and down the shaft several times, before you wrapped your fingers around it more firmly and did just as he guided, pumping it slowly and seeing the head seep with a bit more precum. His head tilted back a bit and he gave a low groan of pleasure. You looked up at him and saw how much he liked it, then whimpered, it was so strange how you could have the power all of a sudden. Curiosity, getting the best of you as you looked down at it. It was impressive-looking, and you were becoming slowly bemused to think that he wanted to put this in you.
You pumped more firmly, looking up at your step-father's face intently. He was no longer holding your down, so you pulled herself up just a bit, Clarks fingers followed you as you weakly tried balancing up and off Bruce’s chest. You continued your firm pumping of your step-father's engorged member. Now the taboo excitement of watching him moan and dig his nails into the bed sheets made you conclude that you were getting a thrill out of all this. It made you wonder if there was something wrong with you just as much as there was something wrong with him.
At fourteen, who could deny that little sweet highschooler you had a big crush on your step dad before it developed into crushing on his journalist friend Clark Kent, the very man with three digits up your sweet silky hole.
It was time. You could definitely not ignore the pleasure you felt from Clark, who was working slowly and tenderly at your throbbing sex.
You whined, arching your hips, your toes curling and flexing, something Clark found cute. He chuckled to himself, trailing his free hand along the back of one of your thighs.
Bruce’s hand rose up and grabbed your wrists, he pulled them away to gently stop you. He knew he wanted to cum inside of you.
You looked up at him in surprise and your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, seeing him smiling kindly at you. Bruce pressed his lips against your forehead and chuckled.
“Are you trying to be a good girl now?” he asked touching the corner of the tape on your mouth.
You sniffled and nodded, moaning when Clark pulled his fingers out to trail down and rub into your pearlling clit.
He smiled, “Alright,” he whispered, “This is going to hurt-“ he said ripping off the tape before he finished his own sentence.
You yelped and hissed.
“Sorry baby girl,” he apologised.
Bruce then leant back against the pillows and watched you succumb to pleasure from Clarks speedy fingers. Your bound hands laid flat on Bruce’s chest, steading you from falling. Your fingers brushed and rubbed along his hairy chest.
Bruce cupped your waist and held you firm as he gazed at you showing your curious exploration. It was then he realised, you were touching some of his scars, covered by hair. Your eyes were growing softer...glassy...he couldn’t believe his luck...you looked the same as you did when you kissed him after your mothers death. If only he knew this was some sort of trance, a head space you were in all those years ago, he would’ve fucked you then.
Clark slid his fingers out of your and licked them clean. The pair, rolled you over onto your back.
You calmly glanced back at your step-father for a moment before returning your attention to the taller man, who was in a similar state of arousal as your step-father.
“My sweet little girl...” Bruce purred before kissing you deeply, his lips locking around yours passionately. Finally you found yourself leaning closer and meeting his same force. The wet sounds of your mouth and moans clouded any remaining sanity left in your mind. Your bound arms found their way around his neck, and he continued kissing you.
Clark waited patiently, knowing that he would have the soon enough, and watched as his friend lovingly cradled his step-daughter, continuing the hungry attentions. You were unable to resist kissing him back just as fiercely.
Soon your tongues came into the dance, with Bruce quickly gaining dominance, a sweet whine escaping you.
Clark smiled, and began to rub his shaft slightly. Bruce pulled away and pushed your bound hands off his neck. He shuffled your face to the side, pushing you to Clarks arms.
With bold confidence, you pushed up onto your knees and laid your loud hands behind his neck, pressing your lips to his. He playfully growled as your tongues fought, you lost and he hummed happily, eagerly exploring your sweet little mouth, his arms tightening around your body.
After a few more long moments of the passionate kiss, he broke it before licking up the strand of saliva that bridged your panting tongues. He grinned at you. You smiled and stared at him for a moment before looking down shyly. He saw this demure action and smirked.
“What’s wrong princess, still scared?” he asked softly, nuzzling your cheek. You continued looking down shyly. You had thought of asking Bruce who was watching you both, what your mother would have thought of what he was doing to his step-daughter, but you had no doubt that he had already thought of that.
Bruce cupped your waist and lowered his lips to your shoulders. His erection pushed against the swell of your ass.
Carefully you were pushed back onto the mattress. Bruce came up to put your head in his lap, languidly stroking your hair and cheeks as Clark rubbed your thighs. The man you had admired for so long spread them, eyeing your shuddering sex hungrily. Your body froze up, stiffening as it sunk in what was truly coming you squirmed around, pressing your knees together. You looked up at Clark pleadingly.
He sighed, disappointed. He leant behind him, reaching for the duct tape....was he going to duct tape your legs spread wide.
You panicked, “Are you doing this because I did not accept your marriage offer?”
“No.” he paused and didn’t grab the tape at all. He leant down and softly, kissed your lips chastely. Bruce leant down sand cupped the back of your knees, pulling them up and spreading them wide.
You shivered.
Clark touched your cunt gently and spread you open again. His face pushed forward, leaning in and licked from the bottom to the top of your slit. You had a sharp gasping intake as you felt the gentle licking there and you pushed his head away gently. Clark leaned back in and continued to lick you, lapping at the sweet wet with his thick tongue, resisting as you pushed at his head – although your pushes were fairly weak.
“You’re not being punished,” Bruce repeatedly assured you as if he read your mind, stroking your cheeks. Clark continued to lap at you.
“We just both think this would be a bit of....encouragement for you to stay baby,” Bruce purred, tweaking one of your nipples playfully.
You grizzled, “To st-stay?” your hips jerked a little as Clark sucked harder on your clit, your legs still held wide open by Bruce’s strong hands.
“Honey,” Clark murmured into your cunt, staring up at you with eyes that were mixed with lust, adoration and worship, “You don’t need to go to college when you have me and your daddy to heel you happy.”
Your voice caught in your throat, you couldn’t believe it...this was why? To keep you away from going to school? You bit your bottom lip. You would’ve been devastatingly hurt but with his tongue slipping inside and licking deep into your whole, you tossed your head backwards onto Bruce’s shoulder, crying out as a orgasm waved through your body.
“Clark, you can take her first,” Bruce softly granted.
“We can look at that sweet asshole another day and then,” your step father licked the shell of your ears whispering, “You’ll be allowed to fuck two big cocks at once down there.”
Clark got on his knees between your legs and Bruce steadied you, taking your hands into his own and squeezing them reassuringly before he let go. His large hands massaged your breasts, and reached down to rub your clit slowky as you felt Clark position himself, gently rubbing your slit with his tip. It had opened up to him through all of the loving attention, and was glistening with wetness.
Your eyes widened.
“Don’t… we shouldn’t…” you whispered, “Y-youre not wearing a condom.”
Bruce’s hands tightened around your wrists and lifted them pulling them backward to hook on his own neck. Your chest was so pushed up.
“It’s okay baby, we don’t need a condom,” Clark moaned, caressing your cheeks before his hands travelled down to your sides. He smiled kindly at you, and you found herself smiling back faintly, looking into his ice-blue eyes. You shivered as he slowly lowered himself, and the head of his cock gently nudged at your slit. You tensed a little, but felt your step-father massage your clit.
You gasped and arched a little when Clark penetrated you, and your step-father continued stroking you in a languid yet firm manner, his touches did much to soothe the passage and help you relax. You looked up at your Bruce for a moment, then back at Clark. Bruce tenderly caressed your cheeks and arms, while Clark's hands stroked along your sides. He was moving slowly, letting your get used to his girth, for he was almost as thick as his best friend. The wetness made it possible for him to move quite smoothly within you, and it was also so inviting.
It was tight and yes it was uncomfortable but with the support of Bruce’s hand, in no time, he was sheathed fully, and you stared up at him quietly feeling his balls pressed into your soft ass. He was heavy inside you, an unexpected pressure. The tip poked the sponge of your womb.
There was a few frightful seconds where all of you were silent save for your soft breathing. Bruce glanced at the tape, prepared to hear your screaming again...but it didnt come. And then Clark smiled lovingly down at you, comforting you at that moment, before leaning in and kissing your cheek.
“How do you feel?” he asked. You shyly huffed even more, but kept your eyes on him. You couldn’t decide whether to smile or grimace.
“I don't know. I... feel very full...” you replied softly, feeling Bruce’s fingers brush along your forehead.
Clark lifted your ankles up onto his shoulders and took a deep breath.
“The best part is yet to come, my sweet angel,” Bruce promised. Clark smiled, and began to gyrate his hips, sliding his shaft in and out of your tight cunt in a languid manner. The reaction was immediate. His cock dragged along your sensitive walls, and Bruce smiled as he watched his sweet little step-daughter squirm around in pleasure. Soon enough, he himself would be doing that to you.
Clark released a deep groan, clearly in bliss as he thrust into you. His speed was tempered and gentle, languorous, making sure that the length of his dick dragged along your gspot with each thrust to create that glorious friction. He wanted your first time to be something deep and tender. And it was working. You hissed and flexed your back into Bruce feeling Clarks entire cock within you as you clenched hard. It had hurt a little at first, but there was no denying the pleasure to be had, and the gentle caresses were doing much to heighten your experience.
“Sh-shit shit shit, oh my god, Clark! Clark I’m-”
Clarks gentle lovemaking pushed you towards your glorious shouting orgasm, and you cried out when you hit it, arching up against him, clenching around him almost painfully. You had ever felt anything so wonderful in your whole life! Bruce smiled as he saw this, and leaned down to place kisses along his mewling step-daughter’s face, massaging your breasts as he did so.
“Isn’t it wonderful, babygirl? Doesn’t it feel so good?” Bruce asked warmly. All you could do was nod. Clark shot you a charming smile, thrusting more firmly now, and he whispered your name when he finally came. Your clenching drew it out, and multiple shots of his seed squirted deep inside of you, filling your up.
Clark placed firm kisses along your face, remaining within your hot pussy for a few more moments. You turned your face towards him, nuzzling him back, as your lips peppered his cheeks, Clark started grinning happily. A few moments passed, some tender caresses, before Bruce chuckled and shifted. Clark looked up at him and smiled, sliding out of you a little too quickly. You whimpered pitifully at the stinging sensation of being emptied.
Clark laid beside you on his side as Bruce moved down the bed to inspect the mess his friend had created. Clark kept his eyes on you, he shot you another reassuring smile before propping your head up with his arm. He laid there relaxed and enjoying the waving endorphins made from his orgasm, still reeling from the pleasure that your sweet noises and tight pussy had given him.
Bruce gently rolled you onto your belly. Your cheek still pressed into the pillow made of Clarks bicep.
“On your knees, baby, stick that ass up for Daddy…” Bruce whispered. You huffed and wiggled your hips up, propping you up on your knees. It was a lovely sight, and he rubbed your behind, kneading the cheeks lovingly as he glanced at your swollen and glistening sex.
“Good girl,” he rumbled, patting your back softly.
You moaned softly, knowing what your step-father was about to do. At this point, you had given up on fighting off the two men, especially because it felt so good. You rested your head against Clark and sighed, staring at his eyes that gazed you lovingly. With is other hand, Clark stroked your face and hair softly as you awaited for your step-father to take you, your heart thundered with anticipation.
Bruce took a moment to admire the glorious vision before him. Your sweet pussy glistened, dripping and dribbling out the creamy white Clark had squirted deep inside. Your outer lips were swollen from the recent coupling you had. Your rear end glowed under the light of the bedroom lamp, looking so plump and inviting.
“You’re so gorgeous, princess. How Clark and I resisted you for this long, god only knows,” Bruce chuckled and rubbed your bum.
You gave out a soft but contented sigh before he was pressing the head of his needy pole against his your slit, rubbing it up and down the opening a few times. You moaned softly and squirmed a little, but made no real attempt to flee.
Bruce grabbed your hips and gave a strong thrust, his cock sliding inside of you to the base with little effort despite your tightness. You whimpered out softly, in slight pain but more in surprise, and looked over your shoulder at your Step-father again.
Clark wolfishly grinned at you, as Bruce’s hips immediately thrusting back and forth. He pounded into you, hard and fast, your body quivering under him.
Clark’s lovemaking had been languorous and gentle, more than suitable for your first time. But Bruce’s way of taking you was savage and primal. Despite it...you found yourself enjoying this as well. It was rough and deeply bruising. You would be able to feel it tomorrow.
Bruce was not hurting you, it was not unbearable agony as he slammed his hips fiercely. Clark watched with half-lidded eyes, listening to your whines and touching your face every now and then as if to reassure you.
Bruce punched his cock into you with the ferocity of an animal in heat. You were so wonderfully tight and hot that it was impossible to just hold back.
“F-Fuck, Daddy!!!”
The way you responded to him, arching towards him and making small sounds of pleasure and mewls of pain only spurred him on even more. His heavy balls slapped against the back of your thighs, and you strangled around him with your walls. He gave out a low growl as he cummed, creaming deep inside.
You whimpered out another heightened, ‘Daddy!’ as your body quivered, your teeth chattering just slightly.
You bit your lip almost hard enough to cause it to bleed as you hit another orgasm, your eyes rolled back and clenching around him hard, trapping his cock inside with your tightness.
You looked at your step-father over your shoulder as he continued thrusting in you, his cock remained erect for a few moments before slowly becoming flaccid. You looked over at Clark then back at Bruce, whimpering out 'Daddy' again as you felt cum dribble down your opening. He stayed within your cunt for a while, panting as he relaxed his muscles. Smirking, he pulled out of your tightness and stroked your rump.
“Good girl baby...”
You remained on your knees for several more moments, cum still dribbling out a little as he traced his fingers along the firm curve of your rear end. What you had been through was unbelievable. You had just been dominated and fucked by the two men you cared most about in the world...one of them was your step-father. It seemed almost too impossible to believe, like it all had to been some sick dream- any moment you would wake up to find yourself alone, dressed, inside your own bed....But did you want this to be a dream?
The more you thought, the less sick it seemed to be...morally it was wrong...but at the end of the day, you weren’t related and Bruce was sure to take care of you just like he always had along with your own mother. Your mother might not have approved if she was alive...but...there was nothing she could do now.
And Clark was just as caring and understanding of your passions....So both clearly loved you, very much....
You felt Clark caress your cheek once more, and you looked to him as your hips fell down limp. He offered you a smile before leaning over to press his lips to your forehead.
“You did so well darlin’.”
You shyly smiled, feeling Bruce lay down behind you.
You felt Bruce slide something cold between your wrists and slice through the pink tape.
Your eyes fluttered. You could hear Bruce put that sharp object most likely a knife in his bed side drawer.
He cupped your wrists and gently massaged them, kissing the raw area. He then scooped you up into his arms, holding you close, as if he wanted to rock you to sleep. You rolled onto your back and looked between them. They were two content lions gazing down at the sweet kitten in their bed. Both of them held pleased but loving expressions on their faces, and you smiled shyly a little and buried your nose in into the blue sweat soaked sheets. Under the gentle embrace and caresses, you closed your eyes.
You felt one of them, you didn’t know or care who, pull up a duvet, covering your quivering body. The men sighed happily at one another as you snuggled sweetly between them.
It was a fact to acknowledge with their cum growing dry on your thighs how they now would never let you go. They would take you in the morning, and whenever either of them pleased from then on. You were there’s...you belonged to them, and they would always do everything to prove their desire for you. You fell asleep in their embrace, you pressed your face into Clarks chest, while you pressed your backside into Bruce’s hips. snuggled up to both of them, while their affectionate caresses and whispers lulled you to sleep.
★★★
When morning arrived it was still pitch black thanks to the roll down tinted glass windows.
Bruce’s grey his eyes cracked awake slowly, to the sounds of your soft snoring. Your soft cheek was pressed against his chest after the night of shuffling you must’ve done in your sleep. ‘What a wonderfully sweet thing to wake up to,’ he thought, smiling as he traced his fingertips gently along your other cheek. He looked to his left at the big bulk of a man under the covers.
Clark was still sleeping, his arm was covering your hip. Your plump rear end was against his stomach, and Bruce smiled at you both.
Your sweet drooling face stirred slightly as your cheek was caressed, but you remained asleep. Being cushioned and cradled in the warmth of two big men had surprisingly helped you to sleep well, as you had been so comforted by the obvious affection they had shown you. If they didn’t care about you, they would have simply raped you bloody and never paid mind to your pleasure they never would’ve focused on your feelings and overall care.
Clark loved you and wanted to be your husband, he had been serious when he asked for your hand in marriage. It was in the plan but Bruce knew Clark wanted to ask ages ago...
And Bruce loved you too, he wanted your utmost happiness but he desired your overall safety and company. If you left for college he wouldn’t know when he’d see you again...if ever...considering you held no real “blood” obligation to him.
Clark and he were good friends, and sharing you had been a odd thought at first, but last night proved that it would work out well between the three of you. And it was very comfortable, and would continue to be comfortable – after all, both of them wanted your happiness, love and companionship.
Bruce pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Wake up, baby girl, it’s daddy...” he whispered into your ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Your eyelids fluttered open and you whimpered softly, a bit disoriented at first as was common on waking up in a place so different to your bedroom but the disorientation faded as you rubbed your eyes and turned your head upwards a bit to look up at the eyes of your doting step-father smiling softly down at you.
“Good morning, Daddy...” you said softly, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and blinking a few times as you felt a hand caress along your hip, you didn’t know who it belonged to, but did that even matter?
“Good morning, sweet angel... Did you sleep alright?” he asked, caressing your hair. Clark stirred but did not wake. You shyly nodded. Last night was beyond taboo and though you were not entirely angry or disgusted, it would take a bit getting used to.
“I am glad...” Bruce replied before he chuckled softly and fondled your side. He looked over at Clark and smiled.
“...Will you marry him?” he whispered, kissing your cheek. You stared at him for a few moments before nodding slowly. You did not see why not – Clark was a good man and you had no interest in anyone else.
Bruce nodded, smiling happily. He was ecstatic that you had accepted Clark’s hand, and now you would be truly a family inside Wayne’s manor.
“What about you, Daddy?” you asked softly as your step-father’s hand gently caressed your side, “....Don’t you want me anymore,” your eyes glanced away in embarrassment considering how pathetic you sounded asking....
“Mmm,” he pecked the tip of your nose, “Clark and I already discussed this...I would like to keep our closeness when you are wed... Clark and I have shared many passions in the past...towards each other and it does not bother him.”
Your eyes started to widen. You didn’t know your step-dad was just as sexually active with men.
“He really agrees to this? You two... have no problem with... sharing?” you whispered as you rolled over onto your back to gain a more accurate gaze upon Bruce.
“Not at all...” he chuckled, “We are too good a pair of friends to fight over something wonderful like this as spectacular as you.” He stated.
You smiled and looked down shyly. He looked over at Clark once more and smirked almost deviously.
He reached out and playfully thumbed your nipples.
“Baby girl, it looks like Clark is a heavy sleeper...how about you go and wake him up for me?” His tone was seductive, and low. You could see from the corner of your eyes the two hardening peaks growing out of the bed sheets.
Bruce pushed his side down and cupped himself, using his enclosed first like a sight hole.
“C’mon baby, go wake up your other daddy,” he groaned.
You gasped and flushed even more as you stated at your step-father for several moments before carefully crawling over to Clark again.
You placed a gentle kisses along his face, saving his lips for last. Your hand caressed along his smooth chest, slowly making its way down to his morning organ. His nipples were given attention, your fingers teasing over the pink nubs and making them taut. Your palm felt along the toned muscles of his abdomen, and stroked the coarse dark hair above his cock, teasing your fingers along the treasure trail. The thin hairs had started as a thin, tapering line several inches below his navel, and spread out gradually to the thatch over his cock.
Bruce watched calmly, not at all bothered by his friend’s nakedness. He did not stare at Clark either, he just watched with interest at what you, his step-daughter was doing. You had such a lovely soft hand. You slowly patted the neither hairs as you started sucking on Clark’s angry red tip.
You flattened your tongue and looked over, making full eye contact with Bruce While he jerked off languishingly. He smirked and winked at you.
“Suck his cock babygirl, suck Papa’s cock.”
Papa...Daddy...oh god...what were you getting yourself into.
You leant your face down, filling your cheeks with the tip of his pink cock tip. Your tongue raised around the skin and flicked under the folds. You tried not to think about the smell but the taste alone. It was bitter, salty and a little tangy.
“M-mmh...” Clark let out a soft noise of pleasure, face blissfully slack. His manhood stirred and began to rise a bit, the touches arousing him even when he slept.
“Clarkkkkk...” Bruce cooed in a soft purr, gently touching his shoulder while you lapped at his foreskin, and Bruce started growing aroused, wanting to stick himself inside of you as he had a grand view of your little cunt, dried with flakes of white on your skin.
At the mention of his name, the man stirred and opened his eyes, smiling a bit, raising a hand to lazily wipe the sleep from his eyes.
“A-ah...Good morning...” he said, blurrily looking down at what you were doing. You smiled sweetly and placed a gentle kiss on his tip as you brought him to full attention.
“Clark?” you asked softly.
“Yes sweetheart?...hngh...” he shuddered, shifting a bit, his cock rising further. Bruce shivered, running his fingertips along your rear.
“I will be your wife,” You whispered softly. He tilted his head, and a wide grin came to his face. Hooking one arm around your arm he tugged you up to him to abandon you morning blowjob. He sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss. When you parted, he purred.
“Thank you sweet girl, I vow to always cherish you like last night and every encounter we’ve met.” His words made you giggle happily, as you had no real doubt of his respect for you.
He heard the fwapping sound of Bruce masturbating, watching you.
“Have you talked Bruce?” he added.
Your lashes fluttered.
“I accept him as well. I...I will stay home. College can wait or I can try online courses...You can both have me,” You whispered. Bruce ran a fingertip along your slit. You shivered and moaned, wiggling your rear end at Bruce as you kissed Clark again, your hand returned to slowly pumping his engorged organ.
Bruce smiled, he rubbed your slit gently and lazily, feeling the flesh quiver a bit and begin to slicken up. Clark moaned softly into your lips and his hand moved down, cupping one of your breasts and carefully kneading it, plucking at your nipples. You gave out a soft whine of pleasure and looked at Clark for a moment before looking back at Bruce.
“Daddy...” You pouted, “...stop teasing me.” You reached out to his cock with your other hand. In each palm you held two thick cocks at the same time and went about squeezing and licking them like a game....unwittingly teasing them both to release. The men both gradually sat up on their elbows. Before either of them could cum however, you let their cocks go and sat back, facing them with a childish smirk, biting your lip.
If they wanted to be depraved, you could be too...you wondered if they’d tie and gag you again. Would they pushed you around manhandle and humiliate you again?...a real sensational thrill soaked your bones at the thought. What a fantastic opportunity to test that theory...
You didn’t leave that room for probably three whole days except to use the master bathroom...
Alfred decided not to intervene.. after all it was Master Wayne he was paid by, not you.
She was out with the girls (Diana, Selina, Lois, Dinah) and as always she loses track of time. Bruce will blow her up if she’s not home when she said she would be, as if he doesn’t have a dozen trackers on her🤨.
i know we all hear about sugar daddy bruce wayne but he is literally so hot to me like. hes a silver fox first off. and idec bruce wayne eats pussy, and i mean EATS. like he’s holding on to your thighs, hand pressed to your stomach so you don’t move too much, he’s moaning into your pussy and you’ve already cum 3 times but he’s not done.
and then when he fucks!! first of all he is a doggystyle champion i don’t even care. he’s got you pressed all the way down, eyes fixated on that arch in your back and he’s got a slick little smile on his face while you’re moaning out “oh cmon baby, you can take it.. you always take it so good, don’t you?” and he pulls you up to his chest and tells you to answer him, but you’re still fucked out and your response is dazed at best “yes daddy…. ‘m so good” and he kisses your neck, muttering about how he’s gonna get you that bag you’ve been asking for.
Bruce Wayne n sundress season😍just looking at you like👀👀👀 and plotting to fuck u up in the best way🤭
ok so yes!!!! you and bruce parent dick, jason and, time :3
You were seen packing the beach bag in the kitchen before you took the boys out for the day and you’re just distracting him.
He didnt think the dress would fit you THAT well. I mean when you saw it in the window at the mall of course he was gonna buy it! You’re his wife like its his duty as a husband to get you things.
Regardless when he came out of one of the boys room to see you fixing lunch he had to restrain himself. He quietly stood from behind the wall before making his presence know watching you make the sandwiches while some music could be heard coming from your phone.
All he wanted to do was bend you over the counter while lifting your dress up and pulling your panties to the side and-
"Bruce honey!!! I need your help" You would call for him clueless that he was standing just a few feet away
Making his way into the kitchen he made his way behind you to place a quick kiss on your neck
Giggling lightly you continued to bag the lunches
“Sweetie can you check on the boys for me?” you would ask turning to look at him with wide and excited eyes
Caressing your cheek he explained that Jason just got out the shower while Grayson was... being Grayson and the only one that was ready was Tim.
"That leaves us with some time to spare" he would hint at before trailing his hands down your plush thighs giving it a teasing squeeze feeling him brush up against you.
"Bruce the boys are just upstairs" you sighed feeling more kisses being placed on your neck
"It will be quick sweetheart just relax" he said in your ear before bunching up your dress before resting his hands on your hips and playing with the thin strings of your underwear
“Nun uh Bruce you say that every time. We promised the boys we’ll take them to the beach love” you said trying to fight away his kisses
“We still can baby. We have the whole day” he explain before moving your body back to his feeling the slight tent in his pants.
He was right. it was only 11:30 but you wanted to get back in time to make dinner
But as the kisses became more intense and his neediness turned into yours and you soon lost your restraint
Reaching into your panties his calloused fingers starting to play with your sensitive clit as he continued to kiss and suck along your neck teasingly.
"Cmon baby you gotta open up for me" he would say teasingly along your neck while hiking your leg up so he could pull your panties to the side.
Giving into his touch you mentally cursed to yourself.
"its gonna be quick" You thought/prayed to yourself
You guys went for two rounds on the counter and didnt leave the house till one pm.
A/N: I have a lot of thoughts about Bruce as you can see, he's a complicated guy. I wouldn't say he's super romantic like the other guys I've written, he's like a slow burn kinda guy. I can see why people like him but I'm still on the fence if I'd date him fr fr.
I won't sugarcoat it, it'll be a rocky road dating Bruce but it's not impossible. Unlike Clark, Batman is who he is and Bruce Wayne is what he can do. The mission always comes first, so him taking time to dedicate to you is special. It's a lot protecting the city and being the backbone of the league.
He is consistently booked and busy, nobody can do what he does so he always has do things himself. It can be difficult for him to ask for help or just allow people to do things for him. In and out of the costume he's got a lot of walls up. He may seem cold on the surface but he feels very deeply. The death of his parents really stunted him emotionally so it will take some time to soften him up.
In terms of a partner ideally he'd need someone with some softness to file down those hard edges he has. Even if his partner isn't soft he provide that comfort and warmth in his own way over time. He's spent most of his life keeping people at an telephone pole's length away(except Alfred of course).
Physical touch with a partner will feel foreign, all the batfam like to hug him and stuff but their the ones intiating most of the time. That will also be the case for you, you'd have to hug him first if you want to touch him. The longer your relationship goes you'll be able to tell when he wants to be hugged or kissed just from the lingering looks he gives you. The touches he does give you are long gentle caresses, he loves stroking your cheek with his thumb. Sometimes after a difficult patrol he'll just hold you in his arms and press his forehead against yours.
Staring!! He'll always be staring at you whether you're looking or not. He's kind of like a cat, blinking at you real slow is his way of blowing kisses. The way he looks at you is exclusive to you only! It's so much softer and adoring than his usual scary pokerface staring. In a JL meeting, before everyone knows you're dating they might think he can't stand you. Inside though he's like 💓💗💖💘💝.
You can translate his grumbles and sounds. Bruce isn't the most talkative guy and he's in his head alot. So when he's busy or distracted and you ask him a question you understand his tone. Barry: "So is Bruce gonna be at the Flash parade tomorrow?" Bruce: "Hmm..." You: "Yeah he'll be there!".
The rest of the batfamily notice the effect you've had on him, you managed to crack the coldness he's built over the years. In addition to already liking you they're grateful for you being there for him. They'll even tease you both when you have dinner together. Fake vomitting when Bruce kisses you on the cheek, calling you Mom/Dad/Parent.
If you are another superhero(yes he does have a contingency plan for you) You may butt heads from time to time he may come off as underestimating you but he just wants to protect you by getting ahead of the problem. When he knows your abilities/skills maybe exactly what he needs in a certain situation, he’ll hit you up. He does his best not to hover when you go on solo missions, he will check in over comms at the most random times though. When you do go on missions together, you never notice but he'll stay very close to you.
You've got maximum scary dog privilege when you two go out together but when he goes out as Bruce Wayne he's still gotta put up that raunchy facade. He won't get too frisky with you but he will take the opportunity to flirt a little. He'll whisper little compliments and pick-up lines in your ear when you slow dance together.
Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.
aka my fav dc boys, their first dance songs at y’all’s wedding, and a lil blurb.
DICK GRAYSON has cried three separate times today, this dance officially making it four. Dean Martin’s “Everybody Loves Somebody” crackles through the speakers, causing your husband to smile again, before tearful kissing your forehead. The two of you sway in silence, letting the music speak for you. “I love you,” Dick breathes, “I love you infinitely.”
JASON TODD has been narrowly avoiding a literal breakdown all night, but this, he decides, is the icing on the cake. As “At Last,” by Etta James begins, Jason tries his damndest to maintain his veneer of suave confidence, finally cracking when you place a kiss to his hand. As a few tears leave his eyes, he kisses you. He tastes of icing, love, and salt. His siblings and father are more of a mess than he is, as they’ve been sobbing and snotting all through the ceremony and reception.
BRUCE WAYNE, as stoic as he is, can’t help but let a few tears escape his eyes as the two of you spin and sway to Nancy Wilson’s “Tonight May Have to Last Me All my Life”. He opens his mouth to speak, but a choked sound leaves his throat as he rubs your wedding ring. His mother’s ring. Years later, he says the day of your union was absolutely perfect, but you know a part of him wishes Thomas and Martha were there to see it.
HAL JORDAN hums as he stares into your eyes, unblinking. “Can’t believe I’m your husband,” he sighs, tracing your jawline. “Can’t believe I’m you’re wife,” you say. Unforgettable, by Nat King Cole rings through the speakers as Hal groans, “And I was doing so well,” he smiles, tears sparkling in his eyes. “‘S alright, love,” you choke, tears welling up in your eyes as well. “Me too.”
BARRY ALLEN had been smiling all night long, but he can’t help the way his smile becomes watery when he hears the honeyed notes of Ella Fitzgerald’s “I’ve Got a Crush on You”. The two of you mouth the lyrics as Barry hums, thinking of the countless nights the two of you spent together, dancing in the moon-bathed kitchen you share. He kisses you, smiling from ear to ear.
CLARK KENT blinks, almost incredulous at the beauty before him. “Kal,” you hum, “you’re staring.” He nods, speechless, not even noticing the tears that begin to leak from his eyes as “Again,” by Doris Day plays. Though there are eyes all over the both of you, you can’t help but feel as if you’re in your own little world. As the song comes to an end, he squeezes your hand, saying all he wishes to say at the moment.
.ೃ࿔*:・synopsis: upon newly blossomed wings comes the season of spring, freed at last as wedding bells ring.
.ೃ࿔*:・cw: none.
.ೃ࿔*:・authors notes: this is a modern take on bruce. like i imagine him being a major socialite (like jfk jr) in the late 90s/00s (him being so closed off from the media) and his kids (nepo babies) when they are older use social media and show off their parents for people who are curious about what bruce’s been up after his parents murder. ….or it can be hella modern like battinson or something idk 🤷🏾♀️
When the first day of spring bloomed, buds sprouted from beneath ageing trees and flowers sang hymns of spring’s deep soul and blessed the warm air.
April 15th. The early morning sun had peeked over the courtyard, and a pleasant breeze from the north rustled through, cooling the guests and family members as they waited in their seats, across from the walk leading to the pavilion. Flowers and white streamers decorated the bannisters, a ceremonial mixture of whites and champagne pinks.
Sweet strains of classical music fluttered through the air, tuning out the occasional conversation as the groom wadded through feelings of nausea and discomfort. He swayed on the heels of his dress shoes, his arms tightly glued to his back and nipped at his bottom lip. His careful eyes dressed the courtyard, scouring across the row of friends, family and his groomsmen before he squinted at the grand doors latched above.
The groom heaved, shifting anxiously on the heels of his feet, and pulled at the cuffs of his shirt for the fifth time that hour. He bit his lip, eyed the backyard door from afar, and mumbled a few words of prayer, interlocking his fingers together and peering up at the sky.
The bridal chorus, a vivid and light piece, began to play from the orchestra as the grand doors flew open, a wash of petals fluttering out into the air.
One by one, in a synchronised fashion, the bridal procession descended from the mansion steps towards the aisle. Flower girls, dressed in the sweetest whites, showered pink roses across the aisle as the bridesmaids, dressed in blush gowns veiled the accession of the bride with gleeful smiles.
The bride, arm in arm with her father, bared herself from behind the procession and merrily ascended across the aisle. Her gown, a princess-cut bodice encrusted with heavily laced beadwork, layered with a soft skirt flared below her veil, floating along as she waltzed, in her hands a bouquet of Stephanotis’.
She was magnificent, beguiling and alluring. All were words that floated through the depths of the groom’s head as he stood with bated breaths, gazing at her with a heavy heart and glassy eyes.
As they drew closer, the groom slowly stepped down from the pavilion and extended his arm to unravel the chain between father and daughter once the pair came to the end of the aisle. He peered at his bride with pride riddled through his eyes as her father turned and placed a longing kiss on the side of her head. He loosened her arm from around his and raised it. He set her hand in the groom’s and slowly retreated into the audience, watching with dread and contentment as the groom carefully guided her up into the pavilion.
The bridal tune faded, and the pastor stepped up to the microphone, Bible in hand. He smiled at the assembly of family and close friends and began. "Cherished family and honoured guests, I would like to thank all for coming out on this glorious day,"
The sound of his polished voice carried well from the speakers on either side of the pavilion as the pastor opened the Bible before him. "Let us begin by offering thanks to the Lord." The procession bowed their heads and the pastor began his prayer.
The groom’s eyes softened at the sight of the swooning silhouette of his bride. His bride gleamed, in awe at the pure poetry pooled within his eyes and replied with a flustered smile shadowed from beneath her veil, before fluttering her eyes shut.
“Dear Lord…”
Once the prayer had concluded, the pastor led the bride and groom through their vows. Their vows to each other expressed their tenderness and devotion to one another. And when it ended, their rings were exchanged.
Scampering across the aisle, the bride’s nephew dressed in a blue tuxedo waddled up the stairs, a pillow nestled between his tiny fingers and hurriedly handed the groom the rings before scampering off to his mother who waited expectantly at the bottom of the stairs.
With an enamoured smile across his face, the pastor turned to the groom and began. “Do you, Bruce Thomas Wayne take….as your lawfully wedded wife?”
Bruce gaped at the woman in front of him. Though her beauty was sheltered behind her veil and the glaring sunlight, he still caught a glimpse of the bashful smile that lingered on her face. “…I do.”
Twirling the ring between his fingers, Bruce grinned at his bride. He held her smooth hand, scoring his thumb across her skin and gently slid the ring onto her finger till it rested by her knuckles.
The pastor smiled and turned to the bride. “Do you…..take Bruce Thomas Wayne as your lawfully wedded husband?”
(name) giggled, flustered at Bruce’s bright stare and nodded. “I do.”
She took the ring resting in her palm and slid it onto his finger.
"By the power vested upon me, I now declare you, husband and wife." The pastor held up his hands, bringing the crowd to their feet.
"You may now kiss your bride."
Lifting her veil, Bruce gently draped the white fabric behind her head, letting it fall across her back and stared at his wife.
As their eyes met, the world seemed to fade away, the world around them forgotten. She felt his hand tenderly touch her cheek, his fingers tracing a line down her jawline.
She beamed, tilting her head ever so slightly and fluttered her lashes, luring him in with a simple, feathered whisper.
He kissed her, soft and gentle, then with a growing intensity. Their kiss was full of tenderness and passion, a dance of two souls perfect in harmony.
His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close as they found themselves castaway, the world around them ceased to exist.
Their embrace lasted for what felt like an eternity, their lips parting only for brief moments for air. They explored each other's mouths with a gentle urgency, their tongues intertwining in a dance of passion and desire.
And as they finally broke free, they peered into each other's eyes with an inviting warmth. It was a moment that would be forever remembered, a moment of softness, tenderness, passion and pure exquisite love.
o.k I am a fan of bruce wayne/batman, so i would like you to write where bruce wayne has a short-size bossy assistant, reader who knew about his batman vigilante secret and he has a secret crush on him. She teased him, one day wearing a short skirt in a hot summer, made him want to bang her against the office table
The Proposal
So estastic to finally have a night off work, I enthusiastically hum while the evening news plays low in the background as I put the finishing touches on my look. Running my fingers through my long, soft, dark tresses, I twist left and right to asses my sultry outfit through the body length mirror on the wall of my bedroom. I do one spin, then another, smirking at the way my mini skirt barely covers my plump chocolate rear.
I cannot believe Bruce is actually gonna let me outta his sight for more than 2 seconds. It's a God damn miracle and I plan on shakin my ass with my girls all night while sippin the fruitiest dranks I can buy. That is till I hear my phone vibrate and beep from my vanity beside me, notifying me of an incoming text. Hmm.. Need I guess who the fuck that is? I roll my eyes as I grab my phone and see a text from Bruce Wayne tellin, not askin, me to come do his bidding.
Bruce: Hey, honey. Come by the office round 10 tonight and drop of the proposal we've been working on.
Seriously? It was my first night off in 2 weeks and here's comes the infamous Batman, swoopin in to destroy my plans. So, his sexy ass refuses to fuck me and release the tension from years of workin under him but not letting me actually be under him- yet commands I wait on him hand and foot.
My eyes almost tear up from the immediate disappointment and frustration I feel. Not being dicked down in over a year was making my need for a good fuck damn near animalistic. The concept of a fun evening with the possibility of gettin some dick, since Bruce's fine ass ignored each and every one of my filthy advances, is now completely ruined; makes me have to take a deep breath before I pick up my glitter encased cellphone.
Me: Whyyyy? This is the only night I have off for like another couple of weeks and I have plans. Can't you reschedule?
His response back is lighting fast and I can't help but give a small giggle as I imagine his sexy stern ass all frowned up, nostrils flaring at the prospect of me not givin in to his demands instantly. Bruce isn't the kinda man that likes to be told no. Plus, the proposal we'd recently been working on was imperative to the deal he was currently trying to close. Still, I wouldn't be me if I didn't turn into a full blown brat with him for impeding my plans.
Bruce: Late night meeting, no cannot reschedule. Also, thought you said you were staying home tonight..
Me: Omfg Bruce. My girls begged me to go out tonight so I changed my mind! Didn't know I had to goddamn call and let you know.
Jesus did this man have to always interrogate me on every aspect of my life? He knows everything about me- though it was fair to say I knew him almost as well as Alfred. And it was kinda exciting to secretly know about his extracurricular activities, even if that had less to do with any honesty on his part and more to do with my snoopy ass overhearing a heated conversation between him and his long time friend about hanging up the the towel.
Bruce: Well now you know, sweetheart. What time will you be here?
Condescending bastard! He really never has a doubt that he can bend me to his every whim and normally he fucking can but it's time to get a rile outta him.
Me: Well if I gotta cancel my plans to get some fuckin dick tonight then I think I'll take my sweet fuckin time!
His response isn't as quick this time but it's short enough to know I ticked him off. Serves him right, his 'I can't have you but nobody else can' attitude was tiring.
Bruce: You have 15 minutes.
I roll my eyes at his attempt to scare me as I pull up the Uber app and tap in his office's address. Before I can confirm I hear a firm knock on my apartments front door and Alfred's voice speaking loudly from the other side.
"Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Wayne has sent me to come get you. I've recently been updated that he's in no mood to be kept waiting."
Uh oh, perhaps I should've thought this through. I'm not sure how mad he is or what he'll say when he sees me and now I'm directly and knowingly heading into to the lions cage.
"Coming!" I yell back, grabbing the file from drawer and heading for the door.
30 mins later
I exit the elevator and quickly rush to the where Bruce waits for me, catching a glimpse of my reflection through the glass walls of the other conference rooms. I wish I had time to change the skimpy outfit adorning my frame, doing nothing to contain my juicy ass cheeks as I lightly jog to the room where the meetings being held.
I don't bother knocking, quickly entering the room silently. Walking up behind Bruce sitting like a king at the end of the table as he talks on his cellphone, leaning back lazily in his chair with spread legs. His hips flex in his crisp midnight blue suit as he readjusts himself in his seat. The hefty bulge between his legs draws my eyes for a hot second as he spins slowly in his chair to look at me.
It's as if in an instant he's hungry, eyes sharply roving over every inch of me as he licks his lips sensually. He openly stares at the way my mini skirt barely covers my bottom, how my sheer top does nothing to hide my puckered nipples. The loud expletive he groans out as he eyefucks me goes straight to my empty core, has my abandoned, untouched little hole fluttering as I start to get wet.
"Nah I'm good, stomache ache. Let them know who you're here for when you arrive and someone will let you up. We can go over the proposal and see if you agree to the terms."
Bruce hangs up and sets his phone on the long light brown table that stretches across the room as he looks at me slowly from head to toe; wide dark brown eyes that linger at my plump tits and curvy hips. His mouth open and closes a few times, his shoulders now tense as hell as he sits stiff in his seat and stares at my outfit.
"You really are a fuckin brat, you know that? Did I not fuckin tell you to be here in 15?" He snarls at me, quickly standing to grab the file from between my fingers and toss it next to his phone.
The aggressive action has me swiftly backing up, not being able to take more than few steps before my back hits the wall. Absolutely shocked at the way he stalks towards me, arm quickly stretching out to grip my throat. One of his thick eyebrows remain raised as he waits for me to respond.
"I'm sor- sorry, sir. Traffic-" I stutter out, voice low.
"Yeah the fuck right, dont gimme that bullshit. We both know you think you can say and do whatever the fuck you want with me and I'm not into that, sweetheart. Unless you count me enjoyin punishing your pretty ass for it." He tells me, leaning so close that the tips of our noses almost touch.
My heart pounds as his hand squeezes a bit firmer at my neck, the other smoothing down the side of my tits and torso to my hips and thick brown thighs. The bulky protrusion between his legs presses against my center, makin me weakly grasp at his suit jacket as I lewdly hump at him.
"You look so damn gorgeous rubbing against me like this. Almost distracts me from the fact that you left your house dressed like a fuckin whore."
The mean words and sharp smack to the inside of my thigh makes me yelp his name pathetically; has me spreading my legs as I try to fuck him through his clothing, already so damn close to beggin him to touch me. The sting of the slap is so welcoming, has my eyes and pussy simultaneously getting wet.
"Look at you, tiny little fuckin skirt.. Bet you woulda showed off all my fuckin curves tonight huh? Would done more than that. What didcha say earlier? You had plans to get some dick tonight?" He asks me, pressing me closer between him and the wall.
Bruce smells so fuckin good, the clean smell of a fresh shower and his Burberry cologne mixing deliciously. That plus the shock of his abrasive approach quickly culminates into wanton need. I can't care that I'm already rendered speechless, that I can only gasp for air like a fish outta water at his filthy words.
"You sure fuckin do. But now you wanna be quiet, cant even answer cause your slidin that little pussy allover my lap. Now you wanna act like your my good girl. Actin like your nothing more than my own little slut. Cant take you constantly goading me into fucking you whenever you see me. I can't goddamn take it anymore!"
He lets go of my throat to drop to his knees and lift my mini skirt up. Doesn't waste a second pulling my silky baby blue thong to the side and slurping at the opening of my pussy. I wail as he messily licks inside of me, his tongue jabbing repeatedly to get inside. Nails of both hands scratching at the wall behind me, I come unglued at the intense pleasure he suddenly forces on me.
"Plee- ahhh! P-pleeeeeea-se! Haah, uhnuhnuhnuhn Bru- ah!!" I stutter out my pleasure as I look down and meet his eyes.
The way he takes me in as he devours has me trembling even more against his mouth. As much as I need this, I'm too fucking sensitive. From the way Bruce stares as he eats me it's obvious he knows; is fucking using it to his advantage as his grips each of my ass cheeks and pulls me onto his mouth and fucks me with his tongue as deep as he can. His filthy moans about how good I taste but how bad I am are muffled against my cunt.
His right hand slides down my smooth brown skin, rubbing and groping my thick thighs. He sensually massages down my leg to my calf before slowly making his way back up to my clenched cheeks. A hard smack resonates through me and I shove upwards off his mouth from the impact. His answering growl as he pulls me backs down is clear: don't fucking pull away again.
"Toomuch! Ohohoh pleeeeeeease Bruce!"
He sends me into a blissful spiral, the intense sensation spiking in my core. I'm begging for the torture to end, for him to make me cum. But he only wiggles his tongue inside me widly as he moves his hands to my pussy lips and spreads them wider so he can get deeper.
My eyes must be at the back of my skull from the force of how they roll eye back. I wordlessly plead for reprieve, which he seems to only delight in. He chuckles heartily into the pink of me as he leers at my tits jiggling underneath my shirt.
I'm sure my souls about to rip out my body when I feel his thumb lightly swipe at my throbbing clit once. The tumultuous orgasm tumbling to the surface frightens me, has me seriously doubting my endurance to take it. So it's no fault of mine that I tug at my bosses short brown locks, ripping his swollen lips from my frantically pulsating pussy. He stares at me through narrowed eyes, his straight nose inna prominent snarl as I apologize profusely.
"Imsorryi'msorryi'msorry!" I rush out with heavy breaths and a heaving chest.
"No the fuck you're not, goddamn brat." He spits out as he stands and lifts me up against his strong chest with hands to the back of my thighs.
Walking me to the conference table, Bruce's sits me down atop it. He says nothing, towering above me as he looks down at while unbuckling his belt. His stare is lecherous while unbottoms his pants, so god damn domineering as he pulls out his twitching monster cock and presses it through the wetness between my legs.
It's not gonna fit, no way it'll fit. His dick is to thick, somehow his tip flaring out to become even wider. It's fuckin scary and thats without describing the girthy shaft. Still, I moan at the breathtaking feeling of him tappin the head at my opening. Even though my sweaty body is tense, my insides quiver rapidly hoping to catch his tip.
"I have a proposal for you too, y/n.." He leans in close to whisper against my lips, blocking me from the view of his fat cock at my entrance. "Your gonna take this dick like a good girl and I might not fuck your pretty little mouth and bust down your throat till your unconscious. You agree to the terms?"
I nod slowly, helplessly, my gaze briefly straying to his swollen mouth. Knowing how he ate me moments before and the way he damn near pins me to the table now that he's not letting me go till he's done.
"Look at you being a good girl for once." He compliments, smacking my sensitive clit with his rigid dick over and over.
My eyes roll back as I shout Bruce's name repeatedly, feeling my orgasm race back to the surface with double the intensity. My frame shakes like a leaf underneath him as my back arches and I dig my nails into the wood table beneath me. My mean ass boss only slaps his dick at my pulsing little gem quicker, drinking in my frantic reaction.
He greedily soaks in my pitiful body in the throes of the best orgasm I've ever received. The smile on his face is sinister, so damn dangerous as he replaces his dick with his thumb, sliding the head of his dick to my opening and shoving between my drenched, unprepared fluttering walls.
Time almost seems to stand still, as my lids fly open and I choke, trying and failing to pull in a gasping breaths against his pretty pink lips as he bullies his cock into my pussy while I'm still cumming. He groans like a wounded animal and I'm fucking alarmed that he actually gets in on the first push, though no explanation is needed for the unbearable pressure weighing in my gut.
My legs kick out behind him uncontrollably while I grip onto his suit jacket for dear life and stare at him with big teary eyes. Try as I might to inch off Bruce's cock by scooting backwards, I don't get very far before he's gripping me and pullin me back onto his leaking dick by my neck again.
"Keep. Fuckin. Still!"
Each word accentuated by him sliding in and out of my little hole. His other hand holds himself above me as he fucks into me roughly. My head thrashes side to side as I apologize nonstop. Hair from my two buns loosens and falls, sticking to the perspiration on my face.
"Oooooooh fuck, I can't believe I waited so loooong! Ah, ah, ah, pussyfeelssogood! Uhn, fuck y/n! Not gonna last, too damn tight.. so weeet! Haaaaah!"
His cock digs deep, finally in a bit more than half way as he pumps into me ferociously. It's so fuckin amazing, nothings ever felt so good, so intense. I light years beyond coherence as drool unknowingly seeps from the corner of my mouth as I share my pleasure into the air. All my strength is split between processing the sensations between my legs and breathing.
"Fuuuuuck, sweety.. Gonna make me nut so damn hard. You want that? Fill that pretty little pussy till I can't anymore?
Bruce's grip around my throat tightens and it's a bit hard to breath but my normal reaction of instant panic is delayed by the dizzy feeling filling my head. I'm unaware of the suffocating clenches my pussy gives the big dick invading my insides as he huffs and puffs his pleasure at my ear.
"Ooooh shit, your so perfecttome! Haaaa! Mmmm sweetheart, made for me huh? Uhn, thaaaas a good fuckin girl!"
His back hunches him over my body as he stabs in to the hilt, grinding his pelvis into mine as holds my seizing body to the table. The sudden unlimited pressure against my button sends me off; I take in as much air as I can unaware that my hips lightly hump back at him. Black and white spots dot in and out of my vision as the pressure in my tummy explodes through my battered cunt.
I squirt all over Bruce's suit, sliding my hands through his freshly cut hair down his neck to claw at his thick, muscular shoulders. His name is all I know as I desperately cry it out more times than I can count. No man has fucked to the point of tears and I'd tell him that if I could formulate sentences at the moment.
But I know he's in the same boat as his fingers loosen around my neck and he bites his lip hard, eyebrows drawn together from the way my pussy milks the cum from his cock.
"Oh heeell.. Fuuuuuuuuck, take it honey! Aaaaahhh, that's it, allforyouy/n! Take this nut like a gooooood giiiirrrrl!" He groans, eyes locked where we connect as he continuously pumps into me at his leisure.
It feels foreign but oh so fuckin welcoming as large splashes of cum gush my already soakin wet pussy. My needy insides clasp at Bruce's cock as if demanding he shoot more. He definitely fulfills his promise of stuffing my puffy cunt till she leaks.
"Mmmmm.. oh my fuckin God princess. You okay?" He asks between tiny grunts of pleasure, his hips still slowly pumping his cock into me.
I'm not sure how he expects me to answer; my lungs feel tight and my head is so fuzzy. I fight to steady my breathing, fingers remaining inna death grip around his shoulders. I finally feel the heavy trails of make up streaking down my chest and my wavy hair sticking to my sweaty temples. I know I looked fucked out to the max.
I can't even muster energy to cover myself as my head falls limply to the right and I see a group of men staring lewdly at us through the glass walls, each with a tented bulge in their business attire.
Bruce's phone beeps at that moment and he leans over slightly to read the text aloud.
"We agree to your terms of the proposal." He says with a dazzling smile.
The time was around 3 in the afternoon, an hour of anticipation for teachers, parents -whichever ones bothered to show up to pick up their children anyways and didn't send their chauffers instead- and students alike, all waiting expectantly for that almost euphoric ring of the bell.
Outside the Gotham Academy's grounds, somewhere amongst the awaiting crowd of adults, there was Eli Wayne, smoothily leaning against a wall, absentmindedly conversing with some of the other parents, occasionally taking short drags from the lit cigarette resting between his fingers.
Eli was usually the one that went to pick up his kids from school. With Bruce being busy with his business work and Alfred busying himself around the house, he had offered to take over miscellaneous tasks. The man was a stay at home dad of shorts, not feeling the need to work, his husband's fortune being more than enough to provide for their family.
Soon enough the familiar ringing sounded through the halls and the outside areas of the school and was followed by shuffling and a mixture of a plethora of young children's shouts and laughter as they rushed to their respective caretakers.
"BABA!"
"BA!"
Eli heard a couple childish shrieks through the crowd, coming from behind him, a fond grin subconscious overtaking his features. The man put out his cigarette, before turning at the direction of the frantic light footsteps and kneeled down, arms wide open.
Soon enough, the small bodies of his 8 and 6 year-old sons, Dick and Jason, collided with his chest, small arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace.
"Hey, boys. How was your day at school?"
After letting them say their goodbyes to their friends, Eli took his sons' hands, starting their usual walk back home. His youngest was bouncing around blubbering endlessly about his day, while Dick was excitedly butting in to talk about his experience as well, skipping on his steps like his brother. Eli was humming along, enjoying his time with his sons.
So far everything seemed like any other day. That was until Eli caught something seemingly incospicuous out of his peripherals. A police car pulled up behind them, as they walked in the sidewalk.
Dick noticed the sudden change on his father's posture and stared up at him in confusion.
"What's wrong, baba?" the 8-year old asked, only receiving a slightly tighter grip from his father in response.
"Hey!" a voice boomed from behind the three, gaining their attention. Eli glanced over his shoulder at the men getting out of the vehicle, but decided to pay them no mind, unconsciously gripping his childrens' hands a bit tighter, feeling uneasy.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Eli softly tensed his shoulders, turning to face the two policemen rushing behind him obviously on edge. Eli frowned, glancing down at his children who looked back at him in confusion.
He knew what was coming. He knew exactly the situation that was unfolding before his own eyes, yet he dreaded it with his whole being.
Not in front of the kids.
Bruce and him had tried their best to keep their boys protected from the brutality of the world, of Gotham. Unfortunately, coming in contact with the reality was inevitable. They just wished it wasn't so early.
"Is there a problem, officers?" Eli tried to keep his calm, glancing between the two men opposite of him, as the kids moved a tiny bit closer to him, sending the hostility of the policemen.
"Where'd you get these kids?"
The man almost flinched at the bluntness, immediately getting frustrated at the situation. Here we go, he thought.
"They're mine, sir." growled the father under his breath in distaste, before glaring sharply at them.
"Do you have any paperwork to prove it?" the second man grumbled in disbelief, obviously staring between him and his noticeably light-skinned sons.
Eli was fuming by that point. He almost wanted to laugh by the ridiculousness of the situation and most importantly at how unlucky he was to even encounter those morons. He decided against it, instead he responded with sarcasm.
"No, I don't happen to carry the legal paperwork of my sons' adoptions on me. Now if you excuse us we have to go home."
Eli went to turn around and leave, both Dick and Jason, scurrying along, now visibly upset by the atmosphere. However, not even taking a step they heard a frantic movement and a loud click sound, before a booming voice called after them.
"Don't you take another step, buddy!" Eli immediately froze, holding his breath in shock.
Jason, not knowing any better, turned to look at the two men, his eyes immediately filling with tears of fear, as he spotted the guns in their hands. Even at his age, the boy was fully aware of how dangerous they were, and fearing for his ba, he immediately hugged his father's leg.
"Let the kids go."
The father's heart was pounding in his chest. Not because of him being in gunpoint, but for his kids' wellbeing. He could feel the terror radiating from their small figures. That exact feeling was confirmed because as soon as Eli hesitantly let his grip on them loose, they both latched on each of his side tightly, as they tried to keep their cries quiet.
By that point, they were all downright terrified.
"Come here, boys." one of the men demanded, his gun still aimed at the back of their father. Seeing their hesitation only infuriated him more, as he barked louder at them. "Come over right now!"
Eli hung his head low, glancing at his children with a heavy heart and whispered at them, his voice breaking softly. "Go, boys. Baba's gonna be just fine."
Two pairs of teary eyes met his gaze.
"But, baba-" sobbed his eldest in protest, as Eli shook his head.
"Go."
Jason glanced at Dick, as their gazes met, and they both slowly let go of their father, immediately grabbing each other's hand in dread, as they dragged themselves to the scary men.
Once the kids were on their side, the two white men placed all their focus on the adult across them.
"Turn around slowly with your hands raised in the air."
Eli did so, now having a full view of the other four.
"Look, man, I'm sure you know Bruce Wayne. These are his kids-"
"Oh, so you kidnapped Mr. Wayne's sons, huh?"
"What?! No, I-"
"You are under arrest for the kidnapping of minors." declared the first man, quickly pulling a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and approaching Eli
"Hey, hold on-" exclaimed Eli startled, hearing his sons' cries in the background.
Without anybody noticing, the second cop, who still had his gun pointed at the man just in case, had become a bit uneasy, seeing the children's reactions from up close, finding odd how the boys could react to the arrest of their captor in such manner.
"Ron, maybe we should-" tried the second cop, but was cut off by his elder, who slammed the other man on the hood of their car with force making him groan, feeling his nose start bleeding heavily by the contact, as his arms were firmly pulled behind his back.
"Get the kids in the car now." grunted Ron, as Eli struggled under him.
"Hey! Get your hands away from my kids!" hollered Eli, eyes flaring with outrage, as he pushed and kicked back at the officer behind him.
And, suddenly, it was as if time froze.
There was so much noise, all at once.
High-pitched shrieks and sobs, an electric buzz and a scream.
Yet all Eli could hear now was the ringing in his ears, as he felt his muscles spasm as an effect of the taser firmly pressed against his lower back. And, just as suddenly, all he could see was black as he collapsed on his attacker's grip.
The boys cried endlessly screaming for their father at the top of their lungs, being actively held back by the second cop. Soon more police cars arrived at the scene.
Rushing towards the five, two other men pulled the now unconscious man's body into another police vehicle, away from the children, who continued to forcefully struggle against the cop's hold, were softly placed into the first police car, being taken to the GCPD.
Bruce Wayne was on his office at the manor, swallowed in his work, blissfully unaware of his beloved husband's and children's state. He was reading one of the legal documents he had recently been given for approval, when he received a phone call -not on his business phone- but on his personal one.
Bruce checked the room's clock. They were late. He knew because the kids hadn't burst into his office yet to greet him after arriving home, Eli following in tow, giving him a short peck before gathering the kids in his hands and leaving him continue his work. So, he assumed the caller would had been his husband calling to inform him of a reason why they were late.
And in a way he was right. He just couldn't have guessed what had happened.
Picking up his phone, he answered the phone without bothering to see the number.
"Hello?" answered Bruce, immediately noticing the intense amount of background noise from the other side of the call.
"Daddy?" Bruce froze, his heart coming to a halt, as he pulled his full attention to the phone call, hearing his youngest sniff and hiccup from obvious crying. He immediately panicked a million scenarios rushing into his head.
Why was his 8-year-old son on the phone with him crying? Where was-?
"Dick, son, what happened? Are you and Jay okay?" Bruce rambled at the phone, sitting up on his desk chair, as he received a tiny muffled hum in response. "Where's baba?"
"The big bad men took him!" he heard his Jason shriek, which caused him to immediately stand up and rush to leave the Manor.
"Who took baba boys?"
"The police, daddy." Bruce almost tripped over as his whole body froze eyes wide in realization of the severity of the situation. Something had happened and he was sure as hell his husband wasn't the one that provoked the police. "They brought us here and took baba away."
"How was baba when they took him away?"
That caught Alfred's attention who, with furrowed eyebrows poked his head from around the hallway he was dusting, concerned.
"Ba was screaming and then he fell asleep." Jay announced innocently yet with a noticeable discomfort in his voice.
Jason didn't quite grasp the reality of this situation, he was merely 6 years old after all, yet he knew the bad men did something bat at Eli that made him cry and fall asleep and then took him away. He knew they were bad, but he knew his dad would come save them like he always did.
Dick was quite aware that his baba was getting hurt for something he didn't do. They didn't believe him when he told them they were his sons and punished him under an assumption. It was scary because it didn't seem fair. And now Dick didn't let go of his brother's hand in fear of them taking Jason too.
"Boys, I'm coming to take you and baba home. Don't talk to any of those people until I get there, you hear me?" Bruce rushed out to a car, spotting Alfred following behind him.
"Okay, daddy." he heard from the other line, before they hung up the phone and Bruce stepped on the gas.
By the time they arrived at the station, both adults were fuming, dragging themselves through the doors enraged.
"Mister Wayne, he-" squeaked the receptionist startled, as the man passed right by her not paying any attention to her, Alfred staying behind to ask for the men who had made the arrest.
As he walked into the main area of the establishment, he spotted his sons sitting by a policeman's office silently. They both spotted him in a matter of seconds and rushed into his embrace as he picked them both up in ease, holding each other tightly as they cried.
"Are you both okay?" Bruce mumbled under his breath, still holding onto them protectively as he scanned them for any possible collateral injuries, breathing in relief as he found none.
The man stood up noticing Alfred approaching them with a few officers by his side, the kids immediately hugging him as well, as he softly took both their backpacks that were still place on their backs. Bruce felt his rage coming undone, as he was faced with the men that were obviously responsible for this travesty.
"Are you responsible for all this?" he heaved dangerously, as the first policeman, Ron, grinned proudly -yet oh so obliviously- at his accomplishment of rescuing the kids of one of the most powerful men in the country.
"Yes, sir. I'm glad I could do my job and bring your sons back to you safe and unharmed."
Something in Bruce snapped. The smugness, the audacity.
"Get me your superior now!" Bruce shouted, causing the whole room to freeze, chills running down every present person's back.
In just a few moments, a uniformed man around his age came out of his office and approached the situation.
"Mister Wayne. I was informed of your children's kidnapping and I-"
"They were not kidnapped!" Bruce exclaimed with a crazed look in his eyes. "That's my husband for f*ck's sake!"
"Husband?" gasped the second cop, starting to feel cold sweat running over his face, a wide-eyed expression matching his partner's.
"Now wait a sec-" tried Ron, being cut by the booming voice of Bruce.
"Don't you tell me anything and get him out right now!"
The police chief nodded disheaveldy at some of his men to grab the man they previously thought -or better off assumed- to be a criminal.
Minutes later, while Bruce was calling his lawyers, Eli was practically dragged out of his cell, him barely able to walk by his muscles being strained by the electrocution. His face was covered in sweat, tears and a trail of unwiped blood coming from his nostrils, indicating just how poorly he had been treated there.
The boys burst into tears once again as they ran to their other father, slamming into him as he took staggered towards them, exhausted yet beyond relieved to be reunited with his untouched sons.
"Oh, thank god." the man cried in desperation, hugging his sons as tight as possible, close to his chest, breathing heavily.
"Mister Wayne we are so-" hurried the superior, looking startled at the misunderstanding.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves." Alfred cut in, a deep frown itched on his face, frustration evident in his eyes.
"You'll be speaking with my lawyers." grumbled Bruce as they all stormed off the department, Eli with the help of Alfred, piling into the car, the older man driving while the rest sat in the spacious back seat embracing each other in relief. This was supposed to be another normal calm day. But then again when did things go their way.
Bruce and Eli were now layed on their bed sleeping away the pain and exhaustion, their sons huddled between them cozily. They would soon have to have a talk with their boys, give answers to their innocent questions such as 'why did they think ba stole us?' but for now they all stayed cuddled, finally at peace.
DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)
You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.
“Dick what the hell?”
Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.
“What? What’d I do?”
And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.
Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.
From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.
“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”
Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.
“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”
“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.
You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.
“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”
He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.
You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.
“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”
“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.
In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”
That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?
“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”
The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.
“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”
“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”
Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.
“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.
You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.
“Mom-” Dick calls.
“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”
Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”
“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”
Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.
“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”
“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”
Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.
Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.
Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.
After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.
Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.
“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.
“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.
You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.
A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.
You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.
“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”
“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”
Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”
He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”
“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”
“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”
“Not it,” you proclaim.
Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.
“What? That’s not fair.”
“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”
“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”
“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”
Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”
You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”
“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”
He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.
“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”
Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.
“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”
“Mom-”
“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”
“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”
“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.
- - -
Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.
You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.
“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”
“Jason!”
“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.
“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.
“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.
You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.
Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”
You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.
“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”
“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”
“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”
Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.
“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”
He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.
“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”
“Okay.”
Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.
Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.
“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”
“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”
“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”
A nod from the old butler.
“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”
“He’ll know,” you say simply.
Alfred gives a curt nod.
“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”
“Alfred,” the man huffs.
You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”
“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”
“Bye!” You laugh after him.
This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.
Fin.
NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!
Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!
Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾
And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
Ok but bae being Red Hood's social media manager and she makes him a Tiktok acc.
Ooooh imagine if she could make Batman one.
I would die laughing. 😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣
@prettyvintageafternoon
Bruce probably had the intention of using social media to show that the Batfam is not threatening or dangerous to civilians. Somehow it ended up turning into people simping for Red Hood and Nightwing. Red Robin goes on lives sometimes and just chats about conspiracies that he has. Robin posts videos from the Gotham vet to help animals get adopted. Signal and Orphan do what I eat in a day videos. Batgirl (Steph) berates the goons outfits. The account had to get shutdown when Batman recieved one too many thirst comments.
Could you possibly write a battinson x sunshine vigilante!reader where the reader is just an absolute sweetheart in and out of the suit. Like she's super sweet to literally everyone she meets but she's also a badass vigilante. Maybe her and Gordon are close friends and that's how Pattinson meets her and he is just absolutely lovestruck when he meets her for the first time. Like a love at first site kind of thing, he's just absolutely whipped and enamored by the reader. Maybe written from Batsy's pov.
Much love babes
thank you so much anon for sending this prompt! I know this is super duper late, but it was a wonderful idea I truly wanted to do it justice. I made the reader a little morally grey cause I think it would be a little different, so I hope you enjoy darling! Feel free to send in any of your requests and asks and even if it takes time I’ll make sure it's done. (who I write for)
Carved in stone
pairings: bruce wayne x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of drug trafficking, morally grey!characters, Gotham itself (its a warning alright), mentions of loss and grief, and a hint of touch!starved bruce if you turn it upside down and squint.
word count: 4.6K
The darkness that surrounds Bruce as he steps into his cave is one that he embraces like an old friend. The light that shines from every frosted window of the Manor stabs his eyes with an insistent twinge akin to a razor blade that had been left to rot on a windowsill during one of Gotham's thunderstorms.
There is a child-like fear in the air of the glacier cave sheathed in its darkness, the kind that materialises into green monsters and pale ghosts in the thin veil of nightmares. The kind that causes your parents to check under your bed, behind your clothing rack, in your closet.
Places where shadows and darkness would settle and make a home for itself. For most children, that gripping fear would outgrow itself over the years, replaced instead with reaching the 5th bar on the playground, failing driving tests, and falling in love for the first time. That was life, but Bruce Wayne was hardly a normal child. He had surpassed his pupils years before they had even begun to walk on two feet, and yet, that gripping fear of the dark still sprouted open deep within his stomach every time.
He has to shake it off of himself, as he reaches for his seat in front of the blaring screens projected from his desk. What he had found was too important to be tainted by the pathetic fears he allowed into his mind. Placing the contacts into the surveillance reader, Bruce combs through the hours of footage captured by the camera placed over his pupil.
He had been trailing a shipment of drugs and armed artillery that was masked as a children's book delivery that had frequently made its route through Gotham's city streets. You didn't need to be Batman to know that it wasn’t the next edition of Captain fuckin’ Underpants being delivered to the underfunded children's orphanage. No, greed had taken over any sliver of humanity within Gotham governors long before the barrel of murders rocked through the suburban neighbourhoods and left hundreds orphaned.
He could hunt those killers down, but the crooked thug that had massacred his family was something Bruce would never be able to make it right.
The irony burnt a hole through the veil of what was left of him.
Gordon had been no help in tracking those marked vans down, whispering under the guise of the moonlight one night atop Gotham PD’S rooftop that it made his officers nervous. ‘Jittery and anxious’. Especially after so many of their dear brothers in blue ended up neck-deep in the underground crime syndicate they were meant to investigate, only to have their heads on a stick at the bottom of Miller Harbour.
Oh yes, Bruce knew all too well how greed had the habit of seeping into the morals of even the most respectable men, corruption had a way of appealing like salvation when you had no choice. That's what Gordan had said, and Batman laughed at that, shook his head and spit out in venom,
“There is always a choice, Gordon”
So it was up to Bruce now, the vigilante sheathed in darkness to uncover every small detail that could lead him to where these vans were heading too. This was different however, there was an unsettling itch behind his eyes, something pressing into his mind, begging him to see. And it isn't until he catches the flash of silver from the corner of the warehouse that he notices that someone else has been watching them too. Clicking on the magnified frame, Bruce leans in to try and decipher the glimpse of a face turned to the side, obscured by a black hooded cape that seemed to camouflage them into the darkness. The facial recognition software embedded in Bruce's computer pulled up nothing, not even a single trace of a face like theirs, obscured as it was.
Someone that lived in the shadows as Bruce did, someone who made it a home for themselves.
Bruce needed to find out who they were.
Now suddenly, Bruce has an actual reason to go to Gordan.
You rip off the latex body suit that enabled you to glide through the air, and shove your face into a navy hoodie in the backseat of your car parked outside the GCPD parking lot. It wasn’t safe but you had no choice, anonymity wasn’t pretty, and it sure isn’t easy.
But what you had found tonight, trailing after those marked vans that drove down the streets of Gotham like they fucking owned the place, was too sensitive to hold onto any longer than you had to.
Your eyes strain and survey the dark city streets filled with drop heads stumbling around and the thugs that fucked with them, for that same marked van charging towards you. You knew they wouldn’t dare come within the vicinity of the police department, and most importantly, you were smart enough to not leave even a hint of a trail.
It was irrational, but you knew enough of this life to know not to bet on rationality to keep you alive. You have to force yourself to shake it off before slamming the car door behind you and marching towards Gordan's office.
Officers decked out in uniform, glance at you twice before recognition fills their features, barking out hushed hellos and waves of acknowledgement towards you with confused faces as you walk through the department walls. You couldn’t blame them, your dark makeup had smudged from the humid air of rainfall and fog, and the incessant itch of your eye didn’t make it any better, even your cover outfit was washed in a deep midnight black.
They were used to seeing you in bright colours and skirts every time you met with Gordan to transfer any knowledge you had gathered the night before during your vigilance. Usually, you would wait until the next morning, when the mask of your pedestrian outfit and a sunshine smile would keep any questioning looks from the Officers around you at bay. To them, you were just a friend of Gordan who happened to actually like the last few pieces of Old Gotham.
It wasn’t like you were putting on a facade, despite the incriminating outfit you wore now, you loved the colour as much as a child loves colouring outside the lines, your home itself was true to that. A true reflection of the warmth and sunshine you radiated, filled with potted plants hanging from ceilings and in corners, dyed pane windows that reflected warm hues of orange and yellow when the sun set over your studio apartment.
But that didn't mean you would let crime syndicates tear through your home, and this couldn’t wait until the next morning, no, no it was too personal, and oh how you loved mixing pleasure and business.
You couldn’t wait until you got their jaws crushed beneath your boot, watch their blood run through the city streets until it washed away all the crime, and the filth was clean.
You had a special hatred for people who exploited children, using them as a cover to transport drugs and arms had motivated you enough to spend the entire 3 nights straight documenting their every move, where their vans lead to and from when they would start their daily route of drug trafficking. It was imprinted into your brain, an obsession you would have to pretend was for the good of peace to Gordon, and not for your own twisted vengeance.
You don’t knock as you charge through the office doors of Gordon's chief floor, your connection to Gotham City’s Police commissioner gives you free clearance of the department, and your baked honey biscuits were good enough to bribe even the stone-cold assistant parked outside Gordan's office anyway.
You shut the door with an even loud ruckus, causing Gordan to sigh as he rummaged through papers stained with smoke scattered across his desk.
“Now what do I owe the pleasure of having Ms Sunshine in my office this goddamn late in the night?” Gordan says, not even having to look up to know it’s your loud boots against the hallway floors.
“Gordan” You reply, marching towards his desk until you are standing across from him.
“Yes?” Gordan replies, still skimming through the backlog of case files and police reports that seemed to double every night.
“Gordan.” You reply again, this time with an edge of urgency in your tone, and it’s sharp enough to cause Gordan to flicker his focus towards you.
“Those vans I was telling you about? The ones I’ve been trailing since August? I’ve finally found something, the cold must have loosened them up a bit because they got pretty fucking lazy” You start before Gordan cuts you off with a half-hearted sigh.
“You’ve been on them for months now Sunny, every bit of information you’ve squeezed out of them has led us to dead ends. Every time we’ve found a trail to their hideouts it’s packed up and shut down by the time we arrive.” Gordan replies before you shake your head quickly
“No, listen, Gordan, we’ve been looking at it the wrong way” You press on, but Gordan shakes his head
“I can’t afford the manpower Sunny, you know how my men have been feeling lately, the whole department is just holding their breath. Fucking restless, you damn near scared me marching in like that”.
You grit your teeth as you mutter under your breath, Gordan wasn’t listening to you, you didn’t need his men, they were all cowardly corrupt assholes on a power trip anyway. You just needed him, and he wasn’t listening.
“Sometimes you won’t always get to win every battle alright? It doesn’t work that way for us, you gotta save it for the big ones, the ones that are so bad you can’t even see them yet. You start putting your heart into it like you're doing right now? You’re gonna lose yourself along the way”
“They’re using fucking kids Gordan” You bark out when he begins another speech, you can’t help it. Gordans acting as if this is some small drug bust in a crack house. It’s way bigger than that, more sinister, it always is.
Gordan looks towards you wide-eyed, eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to talk before closing it again.
You see that as a guide to continue,
“We’ve been seein’ those vans' as transporting the drugs through the cover of the orphanage, but they’re only using it to get to the warehouse. We can never find the drugs on them because it never was, they’re using the goddamn kids to traffick it, Gordan, fucking middle schoolers”.
“Jesus Christ”
“Okay, alright-uh” Gordon mutters under his breath as he gathers the paperwork strewn in front of him. He reaches into an unmarked drawer, pulls out a white card, and scribbles a mix of numbers onto it you had never seen before.
“Take this-” Gordon begins, motioning to hand you the card before you shake your head
“Gordan-”
“Take this, and meet me tomorrow, please” Gordon pleads, looking up at you, you wait a bit before nodding and taking the card from his palm.
“Come at the same time, but maybe next time you come barging in you at least change first” Gordon groans, knowing the litany of questions he was bound to get hounded for the second you left.
You roll your eyes, “I did” You mutter under your breath before saying Gordan's name again
“Thank you, Gordon, seriously, you're the only hope I have left in Gotham you know, the only one who actually cares what happens to this goddamn city,” You say
“I’m sure that’ll change soon Sunny” Gordan hides a smile, nodding towards you, before you leave his office quickly. You are too absorbed with the hidden message Gordan had said just before you left, to notice Gordans secretary staring into your back, what did he mean?
You ruminate over it as you pass the officers and down the precinct stairs, piling into your car and driving through backlit streets illuminated by just the moon in the sky and the sound of bats.
The visions of the cries of children fill your nights and leave you restless in the morning. You know you shouldn't, but you spend the break of dawn surveying the barren city streets for any sign of their presence, and when your obsession leaves you coming up empty you pull over and step out into the harbour bay.
You stare off into the Miller manor, watching the violent waves of the river crash into each other. Some people had an unrelenting fear of the ocean, of what may lay in its depths, but you had grown to fall in love with its beauty.
It was simple in its destruction, washing away the dirt and filth of the world. You had wished to escape in it, swim down to the bottom where you would lay for eternity, let the waves crash into you and take you away from it all.
You spent the entire morning standing there, blinking back hot tears and the brick that formed in your throat when you began to think too much of what you had lost.
You went home, for the first time since yesterday, and slept until you forgot.
-- -
Decked out in a light-coloured skirt and your face free from the dark black eyeshadow streaming down your face, you marched into the police department once again.
This time the officers greeted you with a genuine smile, seeming to forget about the events of yesterday, and were even more elated when you uncovered the Tupperware filled with the cookies you had made. You figured food would make them forget about it all but it seemed Gordan had beat you to it.
Opening the door to Gordan's office, you can't help but let out a chuckle when you see the commissioner in the same position you had stormed into last night. Gordon perks up at the noise, rolling his eyes before collecting the papers into a neat file and walking towards you.
Gordan begins to say something before a loud commotion muffled his reply, you reach for your gun fitted into the holster on your waist, and shift your body to point it towards the door of Gordan’s office.
It begins to shake as the loud sound of metal on wood gets increasingly closer and you can't decipher it until it stops at the front of Gordans office to understand what it is.
Footsteps.
Your eyes catch the door handle and begin to turn slowly, and you take a tentative step closer to the door, forming into a defensive stance with your gun pointed straight ahead and your finger dangerously close to the trigger.
The door opens much like it had before, with a loud bang, and you aim your gun towards the darkness that follows.
“Wait!” Gordon screams towards you, but you don't dare to take your eyes off the dark figure missing your perfect shots. There is a release of compartments before the figure uncovers itself, and there he is, in all his beautiful and dark glory:
Batman.
Batman’s POV
“What the hell Gordon?” You murmur, the glow of the table lamp illuminates your features, highlighting every dip and curve and line and Bruce can’t help but stare.
“Listen, please put your gun down Sunny, I invited him alright? Because there is no one in this precinct who can help you half as much as he could'' Gordon says, and Bruce catches your scrutinising gaze that seems to penetrate him through his cowl.
He raises his eyebrows as if testing the waters to see if you'll really do it, but you sheath your gun back into the holster hidden under that patterned skirt that's got Bruce thinking thoughts he shouldn’t.
“Uh, I think this conversation is better equipped somewhere more..discrete. Follow me” Gordon coughs, before opening the office doors. Bruce follows the dark patterned shirt of Gordon back from a short distance, you by his side, the heat emanating from you causes Bruce to step further away.
Bruce moves like he knows the ins and outs of the building, his shoulders tense, and his eyes always searching, but his body moves fluidly through the halls like muscle memory etched into him and you can't stop staring. Bruce catches your eyes once, his cobalt blues stare right back at you with no hesitation, a flicker of recognition flashes over his eyes and Bruce begins to piece the face that's got his heart stopping and his hands reaching all at once.
You shift your eyes to the wainscotting lining the walls of the precinct, and Bruce's chest burns with a desperate need to see you seeing him. Bruce didn't know what overcame him, it seemed like the fear of the dark was replaced with the fear of never seeing you again. Bruce didn't even know your name, just Sunny. Bruce wanted to see how it would taste on his tongue, speaking your name and having your reply.
“You sure you know your way ‘round this building Gordan?” You sigh, as it seemed you both were through endless hallways
“We’re here” Gordon replies, before pushing a lever door that opens into the precinct rooftop.
Bruce steps out into the rooftop courtyard, the cold chill of the night breeze does nothing to the burning hot in his stomach, but your visibility shivers and Bruce has to stop himself from covering you with his own damn cape.
Gordan passes you his worn-out leather jacket and you take it gingerly before he nods to Bruce in understanding moving to the far end of the roof.
You step towards the edge of the roof, knuckles turning white as you grip the handrail and Bruce watches you gaze out into the sky-scraping towers of Gotham City, glistening under the pale moonlit sky.
“It doesn't look so bad from up here you know?” You murmur, and Bruce's eyes flicker from the city streets below to your gaze.
Bruce shakes his head “No, no it doesn't”
“But then, doesn't everything get uglier up close?” You continue, your gaze flickering back to the city skyline
“No, not everything” Bruce replies in a whisper, but it's loud enough to hear and you shift your gaze back to Bruce
“You were there, weren't you?” Bruce says, the recognition hit him the second you stared off into the city, that same dip in the cheek, that same mark on your jaw. You were sheathed in the cover of the warehouse darkness then, and adorned an outfit akin to what Bruce was wearing now, but it was you the entire time.
“I suppose it was, but how were you there, Batman?” You reply, eyes flickering down to Bruce's tall stature,
“Been trailing them for weeks, but every single thread of their trail-” Bruce says
“Is a loose end” You murmur, and Bruce nods in agreement.
“I know it may look like it isn't, but I've been after them for even longer, and it’s like this has become my entire life now you know? If they can’t be stopped, if I can't stop them then’”
“What’s the point” Bruce replies
You nod thoughtfully, it was why you had barely slept in the last month, barely ate, this vengeance, this thirst for justice, it consumed you. And now it seemed you had met someone who was consumed by it too.
“How did this” You gesture between Bruce and Gordan “alliance even form” You question, it didn't really hit you then but this was the known vigilante that had been plastered on the front of newspapers across Gotham, now standing, comfortably on GCPD’s rooftop.
Bruce hides a chuckle, shaking his head “It’s a long story, but you see that light projector there” Bruce gestures his chin to the signal hidden near the edge of the rooftop, tilted to the sky.
“It’s a distress signal, carved out in a bat wing, and whenever Gordan turns it on, I always come, no matter what”. Bruce says
“I’m not foolish, these people we're both after, aren't the normal crooks and pickpocketing gangs, and together we can put an end to all of this, and I know you I haven’t made the best defence compared to the hundreds of newspapers calling for my head, but I care, I care about Gotham-
“I know, Batman” You stop Bruce mid-way through his erratic tangent, reigning him back in with that heavenly voice of yours.
“Bruce” He replies, after a heated silence, and a flash of recognition fills you.
How could you not have pieced it before? You don’t know if Bruce sees the surprise in your eyes but it dissolves right back into the space between you.
“Bruce” You nod, his name taste sweet on you tongue and it has him yearning to hear it again.
“I thought I would be scared if I ever came face to face with Batman, but, all I feel, all I really feel is understanding. I know you, Bruce, I know you because I see myself in you. This long life of fighting, of putting your everything in your purpose. It gives you a reason to survive in this hellscape, but it also fucking destroys you.” You say, eyes searching Bruce’s .
“How did you get into this life?” Bruce says
“I know from this darn skirt that is yellow of all things it may not look like it but I’ve been fighting the plague of crime and greed that had taken over this city for years”
“First with the power of books that could lead me to become something those rich fucks needed and then with my fists after this city took something from me it had no right to. And honestly? I’m surprised I hadn’t run into you sooner”
“Don't say sorry because I’ve hated that word ever since it happened” You reply
Bruce nods, his grip on the rooftop rial tightening as he stares off into the city skyline, Bruce wore his loss like a tattoo imprinted on his forehead, anyone could see what the violence of this city had done to him without having to read the hundreds of newspapers detailing his parent's gruesome death.
But you, at first glance seemed like a damn tourist in this city, unfazed by the crime and death that seems suffocating to Bruce, radiating a kind of glow and kindness Bruce had long forgotten exists.
“And for the record, I don’t read the newspaper” You reply, causing Bruce to let out a chuckle
“Oh yeah? You’re too prestigious for ink on paper?” Bruce replies
“No, not really, I just like to get my news first hand, as an observer. My uniform may not be as prestigious as yours, but it gets the job done and is a hell of a lot more discreet” You reply, a smile pulling at your cheek.
“Discreet is definitely the word to call it, couldn't even decipher your face in a damn near million-dollar computer” Bruce replies
You look at him in confusion, but he simply shrugs in response and before you can let out a reply, Gordon comes back into view from whatever dark corner he had ventured to.
“Now that you have acquainted yourselves, why don't we find a way to take those sick fuckers down” Gordan replies, and Bruce catches the delighted expression that forms over your features. You nod enthusiastically towards Gordon's words, interjecting pieces of information that even Bruce himself had not acquired. Bruce watches you in your element, formulating a plan with a million other plans B’s, that same unstoppable desire to protect this city that drives Bruce to put on that cape each day, and it’s like Bruce is falling in love.
“So we’ll hit them from the orphanage rather than from it, hopefully, their lack of diligence continues in our favour, Batsy, you okay?” You reply, eyeing him in worry as Bruce stares back with a glazed expression before snapping back at the sound of your nickname.
“Batsy? Now that's a good one” Gordon chuckles
Batman eyes you in question to which you reply with a shrug
“Batman is too long, and I figured if you're gonna be callin’ me Sunny, I’ve got to give you a nickname too, right?” You justify, and Bruce fails to hide the smile that erupts across his face at the mention of him calling you Sunny.
“He’s smiling Gordan!” I made Batman smile!” You giggle, shaking Gordan's shoulders, and if Bruce could he would bottle that sound and keep it forever.
“That's definitely a first, isn't it Batsy” Gordon replies, and Bruce simply shakes his head
“Can we get back to what’s important here?” Bruce replies, but the smile in his voice is clear as ever, and you don’t know why but it fills you with a burst of joy in a place that had remained empty ever since your sister had left.
“Mhm” You reply, and Gordan shares a knowing look towards Bruce as if to say “I’ve found you out”, and for some strange reason Bruce wants him to, he wants the entire world to know he's completely enamoured and enthralled by you the second he stepped into Gordan's office.
“Alright, whilst you both were arguing over costumes, I got a distress alert from one of the squad cars surveying the area near the orphanage. One of the vans seems to be making some sort of detour, we’ve got to hit them now, I don't know when they will be this unprotected” Gordon replies.
“I’ve got a car waiting for me, so Sunny, you’ll ride with Batsy” Gordon replies, and Bruce doesn't have a hard time seeing the smile hidden behind Gordan's stern face.
Bruce bristles at the mention of having you so close to him in such an enclosed space, fearing you would protest out of fear of him and all the other insecurities Bruce had burdened. But you nod and smile towards him, and it's like every doubt, every worry is dissipated, and every anxious thought sounds so stupid because nothing else matters but you.
And so, just like moments before Bruce walks side by side with you down the endless corridors of the Gotham Police precinct, but now, with the heart scorching desire to follow you down a hundred endless corridors, to dampen the burn in his chest with your silken soft voice.
Bruce didn't believe in prophecies, or soulmates that transcended time and space, but right now it was as if you both were meant to be. A sacred bond that was carved into stone long before Bruce had started to lose himself in his own purpose, long before the fear of darkness had seized him all those years ago.
Bruce had thought you made a home in the darkness within you, but it was so different now. You embraced this darkness, this thirst like a mother embracing a child, carved it into you like a relic, until it transformed within you to become the light Bruce had been blinding himself to.
And Bruce pleaded for the first time, he begged to the midnight sky for the first time since he cried out for God to will the loss of his parents to be erased. Bruce was left with the bitter taste of a silent sky then, but now he’s on his knees, begging that you would make a home for him too.
Bruce wanted to take the darkness you carried, wanted to uncover it from your skin and bones until all that was left was the illuminating glow Bruce knew he would ruin. But he didn't care, for the second first time today, Bruce wanted to be selfish, and have you all to himself.
Wanted to feel your touch hold him until the burn of your absence was stamped away, wanted you to uncover his cowl and run your fingers through his hair, wanted to curl into your body and under your skin at night, wanted everything.
Omg but like what about vamp Bruce and his problematic young gf
tee hee heee
vamp! bruce is so special because he’s bruce. he’s all tailored suits and fancy cufflinks and cold stares, you’re the pretty girl that works in a bakery across the street, you’re young, you’re gorgeous, and you’re mortal. he could smell your blood from a mile away. everything he did seemed to be an excuse to be around you. he courted you in the most classic ways, and then he had you.
big, bad bruce wayne walking around with a pretty little 20 something, a pretty little mortal. it drives the other vampires insane to be around you and bruce knows it, he make a point to kiss at your neck when they’re around. but he wouldn’t mind kissing other parts of you in front of them
Synopsis/warnings: Angst. Bruce is a asshole because he doesnt know how to express his feelings to his wife. Mentions of cheating/infidelity. General hurt and confusion. Based off of beyonce's love drought. Angst with no resolution.
Notes: Literally wrote this in like fifteen minutes because I have love drought playing on repeat cause im insane. Anyways I almost shed a tear writing this but I hope yall enjoy!
You, you, you, you and me could stop this love drought.
Sitting against the window watching the rain fall over the city. You took another sip out of your wine glass wondering what you did wrong. Well, where did everything go wrong.
You loved bruce. Despite him being the towns vigliante and also being the wealthiest person in all of gotham. You hated when the two of you were like this. Sleeping in separate rooms. Him drowning himself in work and sometimes not even sparing a glance at you.
It hurt your feelings a lot. You wondered if he was having an affair on you. Finding pleasure in another woman that wasn't you. Your insecurites also came back. Thinking if you were being a good enough wife for him. If it was something about you that he didnt like. It messed with your head.
You hated feeling like this. You wanted this to work. For you, the boys and overall the marriage.
Placing the cup down on the ledge of the window you snuggled against the chair that had his scent on it.
You couldn't lie and say you didn't miss his touch on you. Feeling his warm embrace wrap around you. Giving you soft and gentle kisses on your temple every morning which he doesn't do anymore.
You tried talking to him about it. But being the person he is. He dismissed it making you even more upset.
"Are you cheating on me." you asked feeling your eyes water
"What-"
"Just answer the fucking question." You hissed at him.
"No. No absolutely not" He said getting out his seat coming towards you.
Seeing his wide stature you tried not to fold under his presence
"You've been distant lately." You said before wiping your eyes.
"I have a big project to present. The meeting is today you know this."
"Ok but that doesn't excuse you for pushing me away. It seems like you care more about work than me and the boys." you said pointing a finger at his chest
"We're not having this conversation." He bit back at you
Feeling a sharp pain in your heart you scoffed and walked out of the office.
Which lead you in the library staring out the window watching the rain as Bruce got into his car leaving the manor.
Feeling more tears slide down your face you quickly wiped them.
Maybe this relationship ran its course. Maybe it was time for you to let him go.
Not wanting to think about divorce being an option your sniffles became greater before you started sobbing into the chair.