#bruce wayne drabble

[fear-is-truth]

Headcanon that sugar daddy Bruce Wayne after spending the night together and taking your virginity takes you on an extravagant shopping spree, also buys you an expensive gift, a gift for giving him the gift of your virginity.

warning ; mentions of sex. loss of virginity. mdni

BRUCE WAYNE has developed a taste for exclusivity. after all, he operates in a society where rarity is synonymous with value and wealth is measured in access rather than numbers. it’s for the same reason that he hadn’t hesitated when you let slip breathlessly, that no man had ever touched you before. bruce would never be so callow as to covet you for that alone, of course. but the prospect of guiding you through something so intimate and profoundly uncharted had awakened something in him all the same—an inevitability, perhaps. for all his restraint and discipline, bruce wayne is still a man.

the first breach had stung, a flash of medicinal discomfort that wasn’t totally unexpected. then came the languid, yet insistent burn, stretching your tight and untrained cunt around him. and finally, the undoing—a dizzying descent into pleasure. the morning after, you still wear the evidence of him. a dull (but not unpleasant) throb between your legs, a residual echo of the stretch and fullness he subjected you to last night.

and now, the spoils of your surrender unfold before you in the form of a private shopping spree—couture ateliers emptied for your pleasure, glass jewelry cases unlocked with a mere nod of his head. his credit card rests between his fingers like an afterthought, as you wander through rows of silk-lined mannequins and racks heavy with cashmere. bruce doesn’t bother with price tags, only watches you with silent amusement when you hesitate before a mirror, as if you haven’t grasped the concept of there is no budget. cute girl.

back at the manor, he lounges in an armchair, watching as lace and silk sculpt to your frame, as you turn beneath the glow of chandelier light, fabric slipping over your skin like water. but he’s impatient, when it comes to you. the clothes are exquisite, but he prefers you without them. soon enough, the luxury he’s wrapped you in lies discarded on the floor, and he’s between your legs again, spreading you open with hands still warm from fastening diamonds around your throat.

[uramakimochi]

Batboys scenario:

YOU LOOSE CONTROL OF YOUR POWERS WHILE SLEEPING.

WARNINGS: Just fluff, no use of Y/N. Inspired by this thought of mine. R can fly but it's not explicitly said whether they're a Super/Kent or an alien. This should be gender neutral enough for everyone^^

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

BRUCE

Bruce entered the room with a yawn that he tried to cover with his hand, while slowly rotating his neck and chest to make his bones crack loudly.

The only thing he wanted to do was get into bed with you, hold you close and sleep forever. But he knew that all the love and devotion he felt for you would never be enough to free him from his duties as a vigilante, so the only thing he could do was enjoy to the fullest those moments that life allowed him to spend with you. One of which was a good rest together.

Bruce loved sleeping with you. There was no better feeling for him than coming home late after a patrol and hiding under the covers, wrapping his mighty arms around you and pulling you against his sturdy body, falling asleep lulled by your body heat.

But before he could already imagine how he would spend a beautiful night next to you, he had to stop on the threshold of the door when his eyes fell on the double bed. Or rather, who was above of it.

Because yes, you were there, exactly where he expected to find you, but you were not on the bed. You were literally floating above it, like a bee on a flower.

Bruce smiled amusedly, because honestly that was nothing new. That was something that often happened when you were asleep: entering the world of dreams was as if your powers merged with them and not being able to control them of your own will, sometimes you happened to rise into the air in the middle of the night. Sometimes you slipped away from Bruce's arms, but other times you even took him up with you.

But Bruce didn't care, he was used to it. And he would never blame you because that was just who you were. And he would always love you, for every virtue and every flaw.

So he approached you silently until he was at your side. Meanwhile, you continued to float above his head as if nothing had happened, clutching the pillow under one arm and your eyelids fluttering every now and then, surely because of the dream you were living in your mind.

"Sweetheart" he murmured softly, reaching up to gently pull the blanket that covered your body and that was floating with you. "Wake up my love"

After a few seconds you squinted and then finally opened your eyes in the darkness.

"Mhh" you moaned and your eyes landed on your husband's face. "Bruce... Hi, what is it?"

Bruce smiled comfortingly, moving his hand to your arm.

"Forgive me, i didn't mean to disturb you" he replied, running his warm palm back and forth along your arm. "You're floating again"

It was at that moment that despite your tiredness you realized how low his face was compared to yours and you pressed your lips together. "Oh..."

Your body slowly returned down to rest on the soft mattress and you adjusted your position to cover yourself, finally looking at your husband from below, as it was supposed to be.

"Thank you" you gave him an embarrassed smile. "Sorry"

He leaned down to kiss your forehead and then walked around the bed to his side, sitting on the edge to take off his shoes and lie down under the covers.

"You have nothing to apologize for, i always tell you that" he reassured you as he lay down and you wasted no time in snuggling into his side. "You know i don't really care if you sleep mid air. I'd just prefer to fall sleep with you in my arms sometimes"

"I know, but i hate when it happens" you replied with a small pout.

You felt his strong arm wrap around your shoulders to hold you close and you closed your eyes, resting your head on his bicep, ready to go back to sleep. "Because i like falling asleep in your arms too"

Bruce smiled again, tilting his head to kiss your forehead one more time and watched you fall asleep again within minutes, lulled by his warmth and his sweet caresses that you had missed that night.

"I know my love"

DICK

Dick was the most affectionate of the boys and this meant that at every opportunity he would stick to you like a mussel and he wasn't afraid to show it. Whether it was for a simple nap together, when you were cooking or cleaning the house, while he was watching tv with you, in the shower, when you went out... You name it. He was always glued to you. And during the night he was no exception.

Even when the temperatures were the highest he would close his arms around your body and hold you to his chest as if you were a stuffed animal that comforted him from his nightmares. And you, somehow, always managed to fall asleep, no matter how glued he was to you.

But Dick was like that and there were just a few times that you told him to let go because that was just the way he showed his affection and you appreciated him for it.

And the fact that your boyfriend was clingy meant that whatever happened to you... Well, he was there to suffer it too.

Specifically, i'm talking about when your superpowers got out of control and while that almost never happened when you were awake, the same couldn't be said for when you were asleep. Because when you were dreaming it was like your body and mind were letting go and often it happened that without realizing it you found yourself floating in the middle of the night.

Now, Dick was used to your powers and all, but the first time he witnessed your 'sleepwalking flight' he felt a little taken aback. But he remembers it like it was yesterday.

Imagine the scene.

You and Dick were fast asleep (he was even snoring and almost drooling on your head) and of course his strong arms were around your body from behind you, holding you to his chest in a firm warm and affectionate hug even in your sleep.

At a certain point however, he had to open his eyes, awakened by that horrible feeling of a dry throat that screamed at him to get a fresh glass of water to quench his thirst. So Dick rubbed a hand over his eyes to wake up and reluctantly let go of your body to turn on the other side and get out of bed. But when he stretched his legs towards the floor...

Dick's eyes widened and he felt like his breath was taken away for a fraction of a second when he realized he wasn't lying on his soft bed but floating right above it, blanket included.

"Oh fuc- Woahh!"

And before he could react, he fell down with a cry. Luckily his fall was softened by the bed itself, but that didn't stop him from rolling onto the floor with a heavy thud. That and his scream were enough to wake you up too and after you woke up with a start, abruptly interrupting your dream, you fell too but your trajectory allowed you to land on the matress unlike your boyfriend.

Dick still sitting on the floor, groaned in pain and then he sharply turned to you.

"Baby!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What was that??"

The lamp on your nightstand turned on and then he heard you get off the bed and walk quickly to his side and then he saw you crouch down in front of him.

"Oh my god Dickie i'm so sorry!" you looked at him worriedly, placing one hand on his cheek and the other on his head, making him tilt it to see if there were any bruises. "Are you hurt??"

Dick waved a hand with a small, pained smile. "Nah, i'm fine. I've been through worse. Just... What just happened?"

You let out a small sigh and let yourself fall backwards, sitting on the floor. "My powers. It happens to me sometimes when i'm sleeping, especially when i'm having particularly weird dreams or nightmares. My parents told me i've been doing it since i was little"

He nodded in understanding. "Oh. I see"

You looked down, feeling sorry and embarrassed by what had happened.

"Forgive me, i forgot to tell you. I didn't mean for you to get hurt, honey. Are you sure you're really okay?"

Dick nodded again, forgetting the pain to give you his classic dazzling smile. "It's okay, sweetheart, really. These are things i have to get used to if i want to be with someone with superpowers"

And you giggled fondly, leaning forward to give him a couple of affectionate kisses on the temple.

"I guess that's the price you have to pay for clinging to me all the time, huh?" you murmured against his skin and he placed his hands on your waist to keep you close to him.

"I guess it is"

JASON

Jason was big and bulky but he was a light sleeper and since he was also very protective of you, he was always alert in case something happened during the night.

In fact, the slow movement of his arm that was rising against his will was enough to disturb him from his sleep. Jason opened his eyes but did not worry about being possessed by some strange demon. He sighed when he saw what was happening next to him. Or rather, above him.

"Babyyy" he moaned with a heavy yawn, but he received no response from you who were still sound asleep.

Immediately the hand of his arm that was rising and sliding from its position around your back, reached out to grab your wrist before you could rise too high for him to reach while still lying down. When you felt his warm palm touch you, you woke up too and when you opened your eyes you saw Jason dragging you down towards him, making you return to his side in the same place where you had fallen asleep a few hours ago.

"Where did you think you were going mh?" your boyfriend asked, his voice still thick with sleep, wrapping his muscular arm around your back (again) and pulling you close.

"Sorry" you muttered slightly embarrassed in the darkness of the room, snuggling against his shoulder.

It wasn't that you were new to floating during the night, but it wasn't something you were always proud of in his presence.

"'S okay" he replied, tilting his head to nuzzle yours and plant a kiss on it, while he closed his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. "But if you want to go for a fly, at least let's do it together"

And you smiled, closing your eyes as well while your hand automatically went to rest on his chest.

"Sure"

TIM

Tim wasn't known for being a big sleeper. And you hated more than anything to be the one ruining the few hours of sleep he could afford, disturbing him with your powers when you started floating in the middle of the night without your control.

But Tim was a sweet soul and he always reassured you by telling you that it was not a bother for him if he slept in the air rather than on the bed. He would sleep anywhere, even on the floor and even for just five minutes, just to be with you.

"Are you really sure it's not a problem for you?" you asked again, looking at your boyfriend with uncertain eyes.

Tim lifted his head from your chest, returning your gaze with a sleepy one, already half asleep mostly thanks to the effect of your hand caressing his hair, while the other was resting on his back.

His arms dangled in the air falling on both sides of your body, while his legs remained comfortably resting on yours. Luckily Tim, even though he was well trained, didn't have a body as large as Jason or Bruce, otherwise he would have fallen to the ground.

"Babe" he replied and his exasperated look gave way to a slight smile. "For the umpteenth time, yes. It's not a problem"

"But what if you move and fall to the floor? Or what if I move and make you fall to the floor?"

"We're not that high up" Tim sighed, glancing at the bed below you and then looking back at you. "You're talking to Red Robin, if i fall i can handle it"

"But-"

Tim shushed you by leaning in to give you a small kiss on the lips and of course you returned it, letting yourself go and forgetting your worries for a few seconds, while your hand in his hair slid down to his cheek.

"No more 'buts'. I promise you nothing will happen" he continued when he pulled away. "And you know i don't sleep much anyway, so if i were to fall i'd notice"

"Hmm" you muttered still uncertain. "Okay... If you're sure"

Tim gave you a smile and settled more comfortably, resting his head back on your chest and closing his eyes. One of your hands caressed his back with your fingertips and you rested your chin on his hair.

"But please, wake me up if something happens" you added and you felt him nod slowly against you.

"Mh, will do. 'Night babe"

"Goodnight Timmy"

DAMIAN

You and Damian were sleeping peacefully in your bed, him in front of you with an arm on your shoulders pulling you against his body and your arms tightly wrapped around his slim waist, while one of your legs was trapped between his.

Damian had fallen asleep lulled by your breaths against his collarbone, but like Jason he was always alert during sleep, no matter what time it was. In fact, when he suddenly felt your bodies start to rise in the air he slowly opened his eyes but he didn't panic or get scared, knowing perfectly well what was happening. And above all who was making it happen.

Damian laid his eyes on you with a loving gaze, admiring you despite the darkness. He found it funny that despite your intertwined bodies were literally floating a couple of meters away from the bed, you continued to sleep deeply as if nothing had happened. He even saw your lips curve upwards and he also smiled tenderly in turn, wondering who knows what you were dreaming of to smile like that.

Damian then noticed that you and him were getting closer and closer to the ceiling as you floated upwards. But before your head or his could hit it, he raised an arm to rest his hand against the ceiling, stopping the movement in mid-air. The other hand that was on your shoulders instead, slid up until it reached your head, covering it with his palm in a protective way.

Oh if you had been awake to see it your heart would have fluttered with joy and Damian knew that too. He cared for you in every way, both with the little things and the more heroic ones, as he had learned in his life as Robin.

Due to the impact of his palm against the ceiling it was as if your body bounced like a balloon and went back down, continuing to drag Damian with you until you finally stopped in mid-air. He reached out to your face to stroke your forehead with his thumb.

"Beloved" he murmured.

Just hearing him call your name once, accompanied by the lovely feeling of his finger rubbing against your skin, woke you up. You squeezed your eyes and then opened them, looking at your boyfriend with the typical expression of a child just disturbed from his nap.

"Mmh, what is it Dami?"

Damian gave you a smile while continuing to caress you, while you felt your eyelids still drooping from tiredness.

"You're doing it again" he simply said.

There was silence for a few seconds. And then without saying anything both of your bodies began to descend, until you gently rested on the bed again. Damian felt you wiggle in his arms while you tried to get comfortable against him and even closer if possible, looking for his body heat.

"Sorry" you muttered, pressing your face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. "I promise i won't do it again... 'Swear..."

And a few seconds later your breathing against his skin became heavier. You had fallen asleep again, without any difficulty.

Damian's emerald eyes looked at you amused while his hand found its favorite place on the back of your head, his fingers caressing you affectionately. Because that wasn't the first time you told him you wouldn't do it again and he knew it wouldn't be the last either.

"I count on it beloved"

DUKE (i added him too because i felt bad leaving him out😔)

The alarm clock on his nightstand went off and he reached out to turn it off. When Duke opened his eyes and turned to you with a sleepy smile, he thought he would find your angelic still sleeping face to greet him. But his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he noticed that you were not on your side of the bed.

"Uh... Weird" he thought.

Because he was usually the first one of you to wake up and it always took him a good few minutes to get you out of bed. Could that be the first time you had gotten up before him and had already made breakfast? Was it perhaps a special day?

Duke smiled amusedly, but then he noticed another detail. Your pillow was in its right place, but the large blanket you shared was gone.

"That's why i was cold last night..." the man muttered, after realizing that he had spent the rest of the night without a blanket. But why?

A familiar yawn from above his head caught his attention and Duke looked up. And when he saw your body floating above the bed, his heart skipped a beat.

You stirred, awakened by your boyfriend's alarm clock and the famous missing large blanket slipped from your body, falling onto the bed beneath you. You then turned to look down at him with a sweet, innocent smile.

"Good morning"

Duke let out a small, scared cry and jumped up from the bed. "L-Love! What are you doing up there!?"

You looked at him in confusion and lowered your head, finally noticing the distance from your side of the bed. "Oh... Oh crap!"

With his heart still pounding, Duke watched you calmly slide down until you were back on the ground. You then gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Um, surprise?"

Duke walked over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Are you okay??" he asked still scared, looking you up and down. "I thought you were... Possessed or something!"

You chuckled, waving a hand. "What are you talking about, Duke? It was just my powers"

He seemed to relax. He knew about your powers, but he never expected to see something like that.

"Oh..." then he sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. It was unexpected, you almost gave me a heart attack"

You gave him a sorry smile, taking his hand to comfort him.

"I'm sorry, i didn't mean to scare you. I completely forgot to tell you that sometimes while i sleep i lose control of my powers and start flying. It's been happening to me since i was little. Imagine what would happen if i slept in the open air"

He also finally laughed and he hugged you and you felt his body relax under your palms.

"How about i make breakfast to make up for it, mh?" you then asked and he nodded with a big smile.

"I'd really like that"

[cinnamongrl2006]

* ⊹₊⟡⋆ Bruce Wayne and casual acts of dominance * ⊹₊⟡⋆

warnings: established relationship, age gap, fluff

────୨ৎ────

Bruce was orphaned as a child, taken in by his butler. He’d never learned how to love, never had a role model to follow, so all his relationships fell apart with disinterest. But then you came into his life, pretty young thing, always so obedient— and he found a way to express his feelings.

It’s not that he was controlling or obsessive; he just wanted to be a part of your life. So, little by little, in order not to scare you away—Bruce was incredibly self-conscious about this habit, a desire he had never experienced before, but with you, it consumed him—he made his presence known in your life through control.

It all started when you had been together for about five months. You didn’t—couldn’t—know he was Batman. It’s not that he didn’t trust you; it’s that he had to protect you. He let you lean on him, trusting him completely to take care of you.

Anytime you were out in public together, his hands were on you—protectively at the small of your back, holding your waist or the back of your neck. You’d stopped paying attention to stoplights when you walked with him, most of the time too entranced in conversation to make a move in time, because he’d press his fingers on the side of your neck, holding it from the back, and you’d halt—automatic.

When you went out on your own, he’d make suggestions about your outfit, the jewelry you picked, your hair—anything. They weren’t critiques; there was no bite to the comments, just adoration.

When you told him, frustrated, that you couldn’t decide which top to wear, he practically salivated. He enjoyed choosing things for you, offering that helping hand.

“Bruce, black or red top?” you asked, already annoyed at how late you’d be.

“Black; it brings out your eyes,” he replied quickly, shooting you a million-dollar smile.

You never argued, never complained. At first, he felt like such an asshole for wanting to have his hands on everything you did, but you liked it as much as he did.

When you went out to a restaurant and settled at your table, making light conversation after ordering drinks, you’d always ask him to order for you. He was older, wiser, and you just didn’t want the hassle of choosing what pasta dish to eat. But that wasn’t all of it; you liked being able to let go. He took the lead when you were together, and you could just relax.

Most of all, Bruce liked feeling useful. He liked having a reason to be around you. He didn’t feel deserving of your affection when you two started dating—although he never said that to you—and he believed that having a purpose in your life would grant him a ticket to stay there with you. His purpose was to protect you, even if sometimes that behavior came off as controlling.

────୨ৎ────

Requests are open 🫶🏻

masterlist

saw my queen @fear-is-truth posted smthn about Bruce and casual acts of dominance too, hadn’t seen it before I wrote this and I’m in no way plagiarizing it, but check out her post anyway!!

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BRUCE was sprawled out on his bed, black sheets barely covering his naked body, his bulky thigh nudging its way out under and out of them when it got too hot. He kept his hand behind his head, half-lidded eyes never leaving your form as he watched you carefully.

“Again.”

You stood near his side of the bed, one leg propped up on it, naked except for one of Bruce's white button up shirts, the upper four buttons undone, courtesy of yours truly (Bruce Wayne). Your hand follows the skin of your leg from your calves, to your knees up, up to your thigh where your fingers hook under your simple sheer tights. Slowly, you begin to pull them down your leg, and Bruce's eyes follow the movement religiously. His lips part when your skin reappears under the delicate barrier, the act almost hypnotizing. 

Bruce inhales sharply when your whole leg gets exposed to him, and his eyes immediately trail up to your face, smiling lazily, a faint dimple showing “Again,” 

You roll your eyes playfully, biting back a smile, and yet you do as he says, somehow also getting worked up over this. You stare unabashedly at his chest, the way it rises and falls with each breath. Your eyes travel lower, down to his happy trail, and Bruce, ever so observant, notices this, and readjusts his hips slightly, making the sheet shift the slightest bit. When your eyes snap up to his, he raises his eyebrow in challenge. You huff, fingers beginning to work again, pulling the tights up your leg this time, slowly though, never rushing this. 

But you still wanted to fuck with him a little. So when you pull the tights just past your knee you stop completely and watch in amusement as Bruce’s gaze snaps up to yours immediately, eyes narrowing playfully, “That was the best part, and you ruined it,” he complains in a gruff voice, and you grin, “I know.”

He clicks his tongue as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, skimming his fingers over your skin, barely touching you as he went to resume your work, “I'll just have to do it for you then,” his fingers pull the tights up your pretty thigh, and he bites his lip when his work is done, hands now properly touching your skin over your tights, running them up and down your thigh appreciatively. 

“You’re insatiable.” you say as you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back the slightest bit, and Bruce groans lowly from the tug, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. He then looks up at you innocently, humming as if he was agreeing with you. 

Suddenly his hand wraps around your waist, and he tugs you closer, and you gasp when you fall on his lap,  tights long forgotten as he studies your face, grabbing your ass in both hands and lifting you up so you could prop your knees on either side of him, “I can't help it.” he confessed, before claiming your lips with his.

Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair as you kiss him back. Somehow the sheet was still bunched around his waist, covering his hard cock, and yet you waste no time and roll your hips against him. Bruce moans against your lips, his hold on you tightening.  His hands knead the skin of your ass, as he pulls away and starts pressing kisses down your jaw. You reward him with another roll of your hips, your pussy meeting his cock through the fabric, and he raises his hips the slightest bit, nudging your clit in the process. He hisses when you whimper, his hands now trailing up your bare back under your (his) shirt. “Sweet girl..”

Bruce’s kisses turn more filthy, now pressing open-mouthed kisses on your lips, panting against your mouth for just a second as he pulls away, and your tongue darts out to lick a line across his lips. His eyes turn dark, “Let me fuck you again.” he whispers against your lips, hand coming up to hold your face, thumb and pointer finger digging into each of your cheeks softly.

“I think you can do better than that.” You bite your lip when he rolls his eyes quickly, a smile tugging his lips up, “I can feel you dripping through the sheets, and you want me to beg?” he huffs out a chuckle, and you gasp in faux offense. You turn to look away from him teasingly but he tilts your head back to him with a tut.

You shake off his hold on your face, and in turn take both his cheeks in your palms, eyes dancing across his. Rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, you lean in to whisper against his ear, “Want to fuck me in them?”

Satisfaction pools inside your belly when you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows harshly, and he groans, dropping his head to bite down at your shoulder teasingly. “Yes. Please.”

You grin, moving to stand up, not before Bruce swats your ass playfully. You shoot him an unconvincing glare, and he just shrugs, leaning back with his palms supporting his weight, eyes never trailing up and down your form. “Don't rip them this time.”

Bruce smiles. “I won't.”

Later, when you find yourself panting against the floor-to-ceiling window of his room, the glass foggy as you press your cheek against it to look at Bruce over your shoulder, whimpering when he pulls out of you, his hand pulling the cheek of your ass taut to watch his cum drip out of your pussy, your eyes catch sight of your ripped tights, your pussy and most of your ass free from the material in a perfect circle. You swallow down your whimper when he shoves two fingers inside your puffy cunt, pushing his cum back inside you, “You lied,” you somehow manage to utter.

Bruce's eyes snap up to yours, his eyebrows furrowing momentarily, sweat dripping down his temple, but then he notices. Sees where you're looking. His eyes glint devilishly, and he gives you the most shit eating grin you've ever seen, “Guess I did.”

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[snowluvvie]

₊˚⊹♡ secretarial work is supposed to be simple—not always easy, but simple. working in BRUCE WAYNE’s office is anything but simple. chasing the man around, your heels tapping insistently against the tile as you practically beg him to attend the meetings he scheduled. clucking your tongue at him and reminding him countless times to sign the documents you left on his desk, but it’s no use. he’s preoccupied, his dark eyes always seemingly elsewhere, like he always manages to find something more important to think about—more important than running his billion dollar corporation. you’re constantly sitting at your desk, rubbing your eyes in frustration, like you’re babysitting instead of working at Wayne Enterprises. and the cherry on top of it all: Bruce has the sheer audacity to call you distracting. he ignores your nagging in favor of dragging a hand up and down your leg, scratching his nails against your tights. you’re asking him to sign something for the sixth time and he’s bending you over his desk, pushing you down by the back of your neck, asking “this paperwork? which ones, hm? show me.” your face inches away from the wood, nose brushing the papers you’d left there earlier.

[hanasnx]

need bruce wayne to fuck me in the mating press position. like he just thinks i need an attitude adjustment and a good fucking will most definitely do the trick. and because he’s so big there’s nowhere for me to go. i’m crying because of how hard he’s fucking me and he’s just like “is this not what you wanted? 🥰

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

“Relax,” the deep reverb of BRUCE WAYNE’s command sends a shiver down your spine. You clutch onto his rotator cuff a little tighter, and a tremor of effort shakes your thighs from the base. Two large hands keep your knees pinned to your ears. A brutal pace is interrupted, leisurely rolling his hips into you while you catch your breath.

“I can’t…” you begin, defeated, “I can’t do any more,”

“You can.” his tone leaves no room for argument even if it’s encouraging, “Take deep breaths.” As he instructs, he sheaths fully. An indomitable length is reintroduced to your walls, filling them to the brim and knocking the wind right out of you. As he rears his hips, you inhale like he said to. Gradually, he picks up the pace, adjusting your body for you accordingly while your hands slide to his chest. Perfectly sculpted and chiseled, you explore it to give new sensation to focus on while a thick cock makes a mess of your insides. “You’re not trying to quit on me, are you?” It’s a playfully coy comment, pricking his brow down at you while you chew on your bottom lip. “Where’s my big strong girl now?”

“I said I was sorry!” You hadn’t. Your pitiful plea only makes him snicker, a rumbling noise. A poor attitude from earlier didn’t follow you into the bedroom, laying on your back for him while you whimper at his body piling onto yours, quite literally drilling into you while you’re pinned.

[ditzydoe444]

Can we have something with Bruce Wayne and his trophy wife, please? (I love your work, I’m biting myself as I write this.)

MDNI 18+

bruce wayne x trophy wife! reader

smutty

bruce wayne x trophy wife! reader

bruce would spoil you with all the lavish jewels and bags you would want because not only was it benefiting you, but also for him. being a man of high status meant having a pretty decoration on his arm. in this case, it was you. he would spoil you rotten, taking you to all the lavish boutiques, where he would leave carrying your handful of shopping bags. he insisted on getting the best of the best, he would have his sales associates get the limited edition pieces as well as ensuring the dresses were specifically made for you.

bruce wayne x trophy wife! reader

you would be all dolled up for events bruce would admire you, his gaze would drift all over your body and how the dress clung to every curve. he would make you spin around before giving a soft kiss on your forehead, occasionally if you looked really good, he would kiss your neck. though it never went further than that, he would have to wait until after the event was over. he didn’t want his pretty little thing walking out all flustered and fucked up, would he? let alone having his cum drip down your thighs during the event.

bruce wayne x trophy wife! reader

you would get so many compliments at the events and gala, gaining everyone’s attention. news headlines would go crazy, writing all about you. bruce loved every second of it, flaunting you like you were his prize possession (which you totally were). though he didn’t appreciate the lingering eyes on you, always having a possessive arm around your back.

bruce wayne x trophy wife! reader

the attention that you received were both good and bad, many would compliment you on your looks and how the expensive dresses were made for you. others would question the age difference, bruce was an older man, whilst you seemed to be controversially young. though bruce never paid any mind to it, because at the end of the day people don’t know the relationship dynamic between the two of you, other than what you want to put out.

bruce wayne x trophy wife! reader

despite how much of a patient man bruce was, there were times where he looked too good for him to keep his hands off you. he would drag you to the private bathrooms before removing your dress hastily and propping you on the counter of the bathroom sink. it wasn’t long before he then discarded his belt and tugged his pants down. you were already so wet foreplay wasn’t even needed, god you didn’t even want it. all you want was to have his cock shoved up your cunt. he filled out his suit so well, that his broad shoulders and huge biceps would strain against the expensive material, it was only normal to be wet at the sight.

bruce wasted no minute before he shoved his fat cock inside your tight cunt. he placed your panties in your mouth, as a makeshift gag. “don’t even make a sound,” he grunted in your ear as he continued to thrust harder and harder. “don’t want the high socialites seeing what a desperate whore you are.”

it wasn’t long before you reached your orgasm, saliva dribbling down as the thin material shoved in your mouth barely did its job, and tears streaming down your eyes. bruce would softly wipe your tears away and clean you up. what kind of a gentleman would let his wife walk out completely fucked up?

[palmerzy]

giggles and jumps up and down

so i saw that you have bruce wayne in who you write for 😍😍. and i was wondering if i cpuld ask for bruce as batman fucking catwoman!reader after she robbed another jewwlry store...like hes tried to wip fuck her into shape

hi anon!! thank you dearly for requesting bruce because i’ve been dying to write for him <3 i always write/perceive him as a dom bc usually i envision either comic!bruce or bale!bruce but if you want any sub stuff deffo lmk :) or just any more bruce stuff hehe

you can picture this drabble with any bruce you want ofc!!

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes.

bruce wayne immediately knows it’s you again when the radio in the batmobile crackles to life and speaks of a jewellery heist just a few blocks down, and before he knows it he’s turning the car around in an instant, muttering something to himself about ‘the brat not knowing when to give up.’

he knows for sure that it’s you the second he arrives to the scene and sees no obvious signs of a break in, because you’re stealthy, and you’re only here for one reason. the single piece of jewellery to have been swiped is a cat-eye pendant, and he notices it dangling around your neck once you turn the corner, a wicked grin gracing your lips, crinkling your eyes beneath the domino mask. your body is graced in a skin-tight leather suit, one he’s come to know his way around all too well, and a cutesy pair of cat ears adorn your head, making you seem more innocent than he knows you to be, especially when you greet him: “hey, batty, come to play with me?”

bruce is aware of what you’re doing, he’s fully aware of your tactical manipulation - setting up an entire heist just because you know he’ll eventually end up fucking you in the back, having his way with you before the cops arrive, under the guise of teaching you a lesson.

the first time it had happened wasn’t intentional, but the way you’ve both adjusted your suits for easy access conveys the intention now lurking behind every act, every movement. the sounds of sirens in the distance has him pouncing, and before you know it he’s got you bent over a glass jewellery case, his hands roaming the tight leather covering your ass whilst his cock plunges into your welcoming depths at a speed you’re sure the flash even couldn’t rival with.

you’ve done this plenty of times by now, and bruce knows how to have you mewling for him, how to have your back arched perfectly, giving him a reason to tease you about just how catty you really are. he’s not gentle, either, - why would he be? you’re a criminal, and he’s going to treat you like one. one of his hands is in your hair, twirling it around before tugging harshly, watching the cat ears jostle from the movement, and his teeth peek beneath his rosy lips in a smirk. “how many times are y’gonna make me do this? huh?” “always need me to fuck you silly so you understand properly, don’t you?” “can’t keep stealin’, can’t keep makin’ me set you straight like this.”

bruce is also fully aware that the more he fucks you, the more you’ll come back. he can feel it in the way your walls tighten around him when his pulsing tip smacks against that silky spot inside of you with every. single. thrust. he doesn’t care that his method is doing the exact opposite of what he’s telling you. he wants you to come back. he needs you to come back.

it’s bad, he knows that, he knows he shouldn’t enjoy the thrill of trying to make you come before authorities arrive on the scene and his cop buddy gordon sees him stuffing you to the brim. that definitely wouldn’t give him any better of a reputation than he’s already got. ‘bat shamelessly engages sexually with criminal cat lady’ isn’t a headline he wants to see. but god, he can’t stop himself. not when he can hear your claws scratching against the glass beneath you, and he can see the way your tits are squashed up against it, stretching your leather suit.

never in his life has he gotten so hard for someone so quickly, he knows that now. every time he sees you, he’s hard. your face in the paper, on wanted posters around gotham, in his mind as his hand wraps around his cock in the early hours of the morning, all of it makes him achingly hard, thinking of when he’ll get you take you again.

yet, nothing in the world compares to how he feels like this, the adrenaline rush he gets from drilling into you at one of your crime scenes. “nothing more than a criminal and a whore f’me,”he’d grit into your ear, large palm smacking down onto your backside, watching your skin ripple beneath the material covering it. “not gonna stop, are you?” “gonna make me come ‘n’ find you every week just to fill this perfect little cunt,” “can’t get enough, kitty, can’t ever get enough of me,” he grunts and he groans, loudly, and you’re sure he enjoys this as much as you do.

nobody has ever fucked you the way batman fucks you, so never in a million years would you stop coming back. he can call you whatever names he wants, but deep down you know he wants this too, he needs the release of slamming into your pliant body, of holding you with a bruising grip as you squeal and whine for him.

the sirens are closer now, and he’s snapped back to reality, whilst his hips snap back into you. the coil in his stomach is tightening all too fast, his load ready to shoot into your stretched hole and mark you as property of the bat, whether gotham approves or not. he’s learned that if he doesn’t make you come from his cock, you’ll return to him sooner, and he enjoys that. he enjoys knowing you need him, you need to be fucked into oblivion and need him to make you squelch around his cock, especially as the kevlar of his suit slams against your clit.

this time, he’s not letting you come. “pulling me away from people who actually need me just because you can’t go a week without my cock? pathetic,” he groans, feeling sweat pool on his skin, smudging his eyepaint when he finally spills into you, long ropes of his release spanning your aching pussy. in all honesty, he doesn’t really give a fuck if you suffer the consequences of him coming inside of you. he’s sure you’re on a contraceptive, but if you’re not, he deems it as you just being desperate to carry a piece of the bat with you forever, and he’s perfectly content with that.

he’s pulling out in an instant and zipping you back up before his come can spill out of you, leaving you stretched and empty, a whine slipping through your pouted lips. “get outta here before i hand you over to the cops,” “i’m sure they’d love to have you up in arkham, mm, seein’ your pretty little kitty up in a cell.” “you don’t want that, d’you? no? get out,” he’d command all in all, delivering a final smack to your pussy over your suit when he sees you rolling your eyes, and soon enough you’re dashing out of the building.

sure, he thinks he’s in charge, but you know how tightly the bat is wrapped around your little finger. you know he needs your body just as much as you need his, and he’s not as good at hiding his willingness to abide by your calls whenever he arrives on scene, just minutes after you do. the bat is positively pussy drunk, and it’s evident.

i hope you enjoyed <3 requests are open!

[batsycline69]

Bruce agreed to the photo shoot. He did not agree to the outfit.

You stare unabashedly as he scowls at his reflection.

“I can’t wear this,” he says.

His objection doesn’t come as a surprise, but that isn’t to say you’re not disappointed. The suit jacket is cropped just below his pecks, revealing the scarred surface of his stomach and the dark hair trailing down beneath the waist of his slacks. The sleeves stretch out over his biceps as he fusses with the tie.

“You look good,” you reply in the understatement of the year.

He looks absolutely edible. You want to run your hand up beneath that itty bitty button-up. Drag your fingers through the hair that gets thicker as it goes down. Nibble on his abs like you’re trying to chew through to bury yourself within him. Press your lips around the puckered skin of healed gunshot wounds.

But you know that’s the problem. The billionaire with a reputation for having nothing but time on his hands can explain the muscles, but scar tissue is another issue entirely.

The severe look of his icy gaze tugs you back to a reality where you won’t have a page of Bruce posed up for Gotham Magazine ripped out and taped to the wall like a lovesick teenager. Your pout doesn’t have time to settle, however, when you realize there are alternatives.

With his reputation, would anyone really be surprised if Bruce Wayne was getting a dressing room blowjob?

inspired entirely by this thank you @sunnie-angel 💛

[bratscave]

HI I LOVE BRUCE and i see no asks so ill do my labor and ask for some titty sucking w him, i just know he'd use them as stressballs no matter the size

— the way i was waiting for this omg

i can just imagine bruce coming home from 'work' better said patrol, maybe he had a meeting earlier during the day and that poor man is horribly tired. His hands are steady, there's no tension in the way his hands move along your skin. He’s not asking for anything; he’s just taking. He may not be abel to control gotham all the time but your tits prove he can focus on two things at once. also I feel like sometimes he just sleeps on your chest. it had been an accident a few years back, you had sex and he had been way to tired to reposition so he ultimately fell asleep on you. now adays he quite frequently rests his head in between your tits, bruce likes to listen to your heartbeat. here and there you wake up to find him, softly licking along the skin. he probably grumbles about you wiggling and moving to much yet won't make any attempt at moving himself.

man i love seeking for comfort! touch starved! lowkey clingy! bruce

[fear-is-truth]

omg could u do a bruce x secretary fic pretty please 😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

suggestive; MDNI

bruce wayne is a patient man.

or at least, he pretends to be.

he keeps his composure through the long hours, the endless meetings, the city’s expectations pressing down on him like a weight he’s long since learned to bear. he signs contracts with a steady hand, entertains investors with bright, well-timed smiles, and listens to board members drone on about projections while his mind is elsewhere.

while you are elsewhere.

you, who’s spent the entire day at your desk, just outside his office, looking so damn put-together. perfect posture, blouse buttoned up to your throat, skirt smoothed neatly over your thighs. efficient, professional, untouchable.

but bruce knows better.

he sees the way your hands tremble slightly when you pass him his coffee. the way your shoulder tense up when he brushes your fingers when reaching for a file. the way your eyes flick to him when you think he’s not looking, heat pooling in your gaze before you quickly tear it away.

he sees all of it. and worse—he lets it fester.

which is why, when the last of the office staff files out for the night, when gotham’s skyline glows through the wide windows of his office, he finally—finally—allows himself the indulgence of taking you apart.

his broad frame presses you against his desk, hands bracketing your hips, mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear as you brace your palms against the polished wood.

“you’ve been distracted today,”

a choked moan escapes you as his hands slide lower, fingers teasing at the hem of your skirt before pushing it up, baring soft, sensitive skin to the cool air.

“do you know how difficult it was to focus,” he continues, “knowing you were sitting out there, looking like this?”

you shudder as his fingers find the damp lace between your thighs, barely brushing before retreating again—teasing, withholding. you make a whimper of protest, and his grip on you tightens.

“impatient?”

the amusement in his tone makes your cheeks burn, but you nod, arching slightly against him, desperate for more. bruce sighs, almost like he’s annoyed with himself for indulging this, for indulging you.

but then he’s turning you around, pressing you fully against the desk now, and his mouth finally finally claims yours—slow, consuming, a sharp contrast to the bruising grip on your hips as he hoists you up onto the desk and steps between your legs. your fingers tangle in his tie, pulling him closer, and you feel it—feel him—hot and hard against your thigh, restrained only by the tailored slacks that are about to become a casualty of his patience finally running out.

when he pulls back, his lips are slick, his eyes darker than the gotham night behind him.

“lock the door,” he murmurs hoarsely. you hesitate for half a second—but it’s just long enough for him to smirk, one hand curling beneath your thigh, hoisting it higher.

“or don’t.” his tone is careless. amused, almost.

“but if someone walks in…” his other hand slides back up, thumb pressing against your pulse point, feeling how it flutters beneath his touch.

“…you’ll be the one explaining.

[devilfic]

omg we need more of the honeymoon shot bruce and reader,, maybe a one bed trope if it’s not too much to ask no pressure obv!!<3

❝honeymoon❞

II. marriage bed.

parts: previously / next plot: the in-laws are in town. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, only one bed trope. words: 1.6k.

"I'm sorry" feels numb to say at this point. You still say it, standing at the foot of what should have been your marriage bed. It's been a long night and you'd wrung your hands of dish soap until your family practically barked at you to get to bed, to get back to your husband.

You can still hear them, cackling downstairs in the living room while your nieces and nephews tumble through the hallway. It must feel alien to have your childhood home, long devoid of familial joy, be suddenly bursting full of it. And have none of it mean anything to you.

Bruce stands shoulder to shoulder with you for a few more beats. Then he walks to the door, and you watch him twist the lock with a firm click. Your heart picks up a bit.

His steps are muted on the carpet and you take in his shoulders, the rolling hills of muscles in his back, and the pants that cling to the divots of his hip bones. The black cashmere is a gift from your mother, something preferable to his "ratty" sweats. He didn't like these very much.

Since you'd started living here, you caught glimpses of him like this. A heavy shadow of a man skulking in the darkness, waiting for you to leave for work before revealing himself. Rarely would you find yourselves crossing paths in the kitchen or catching eyes in the living room. And with each fleeting glance, he would escape elsewhere, receding into the tower the way a frightened cat might hide from strangers. Intruders. Funnily enough, you found avoiding eye contact helped that.

But now there was nowhere to run. Your family was here for the holidays and they were in every room. Eyes everywhere.

"Do you need to work tonight?" You'd started calling it that: "work". It made sense around the family (not so much your mother), and it didn't put him on edge when you skirted around the "B" word. "I can help you get downstairs."

He's half-turned to you, waiting on his side of the bed, so you can see the way his face scrunches up at a thought, "Gordon... told me to take time off. For family."

You snort, "You told him the in-laws were in town?"

"Yes."

You blink, "Oh."

Bruce had told you that between you and Alfred, no one else knew who Batman was. The lieutenant, trusted friend and ally as he were, had yet to join the ranks of your prestigious little club. It felt wrong to be in it when he wasn't; you'd forced yourself into it, and Bruce didn't even trust you.

You round the bed opposite to Bruce, and staring across it at him felt like staring across an ocean—he was so far away. You wondered how many people had shared this bed with him. How many he trusted as little as you.

You understand that the Bruce you remember was still a boy, grieving much differently than he is now, and had liked you just a little bit more.

You're the first to draw back the covers.

Bruce watches you settle in before following suit, reluctant, as if he were still wondering about the cons of sleeping in his car tonight. The weight of the bed dramatically shifts and you glide against the silk to his side when he lays down, your hand going for his upper arm to steady yourself. He jolts at the contact, staring you down like a deer in headlights.

Your second sorry of the night spills from your lips, and you squirm away from the warmth of his side and back to the edge of the bed.

You both lay like that for a while, side by side, neither of you particularly comfortable.

"Why didn't you say no?"

His question rocks the stillness in the air. You almost jolt. You turn your head and ask, as casually as you are able, "Say no to what?"

"The marriage."

Ah. "You've met my mother. It's hard to say no to her. Isn't that why you're in this situation in the first place?"

He remains looking up at the ceiling, but you see his jaw constrict, "The you I knew had a backbone."

He means it to hurt. Reminders of your youth together had not softened with time, it seemed, even if he treated you like a distant memory. You don't muster up the courage to bite back at him. Instead, you tuck your tail and keep the mist from gathering in your eyes, "...Yeah."

He doesn't seem to have expected that response. He finally turns his head to look at you, visibly confused. For a few moments, the two of you just stare at each other. Him, analyzing. You... mourning. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's becoming harder to hold back tears, "Not this. Not with her pulling all the strings. Regardless of what you think about me, or my mother, or my family, I didn't want any of this. I don't... want to be your enemy, Bruce."

You want so badly for him to believe you. You've never wanted anything more than for him to see you honestly, transparently, except perhaps to see him the same. To not have to fight.

He's about to say something when the doorknob wriggles, followed by a tentative knock. The two of you sit up and listen for who could be at the door, until a small voice calls your name through the wood, "My niece." You say, rigid. "She must be lost." You go to stand but to your surprise, Bruce is already at the door letting her in.

She stands at just about his knee, blanket clutched in her chubby arms and mouth hidden by the purple fleece. She has to turn her head all the way up to look him in the eyes, "Uncle Bruce," she says through a lisp, "where's the bathroom?"

You can't fully see Bruce's reaction from the bed. From the side, you watch his shoulders sag and his cheek rise in what you think is... a smile.

Very slowly, he comes to a crouch in front of her, "The bathroom?" He asks. She nods an affirmative. "Why didn't you ask Grandpa Alfred? He knows where everything is."

Her eyes dart to the side, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "...Grandpa Alfred is scary."

Bruce laughs, actually laughs. He hasn't laughed around you. Hasn't managed more than a smile today, and only to placate your mother. He's warmer too, more open. You watch him. Mesmerized. "He is a little scary, isn't he? But I promise, he's really nice if you get to know him." Your niece doesn't seem so convinced. A moment passes as Bruce thinks of what to say, "How about I come with you to go ask him?"

Her eyes light up, "Really?"

"Really."

Bruce holds out his arms to her, and though she's reluctant, you watch her tumble into them with arms thrown around his neck. He hops back to his feet with her perched on his hip like she weighs nothing—and she probably does, to him—and asks her in a hushed voice if she's holding on tight.

Her little head turns to look at you over his shoulder and he follows, his smile weakening some.

You almost ask if she'd like you to come with, but think better of it. In the time it would take Bruce to complete this task, you could try to fall asleep. Maybe then it'd be easier on him to share the bed with you, "Go with Uncle Bruce. Maybe Grandpa Alfred will show you the fancy swords if you're brave enough to ask."

Your niece beams, urging Bruce to take her to him this instant, and they disappear out of sight.

You're half conscious when Bruce returns and shuts the door, but there is no click of the lock to follow after.

With your back turned, all you have to tell you where he is in the room are his small sighs. He's on his side, closer than you expected him to be so quickly, and you curse the carpet that hides his footfalls. You keep your breaths measured, pretending you're fully asleep, and wait for him to climb in.

One knee presses into the mattress, then the other, and you quickly remember the problem with this bed.

He's just laid on his side when you go sliding backwards, feeling your body collide with his chest. You force your eyes to stay closed but you are chilled with mortification. Should you move? Give up the facade of sleep and scramble for the other side of the bed? Would he shove you away?

You wait for his heavy hand to fall on your back, but... nothing. Seconds crawl forward at a snail's pace. You can feel the heat of his hand hovering over your hip where your night shirt had ridden up, but he never touches you. You take slow, deep breaths. You wait for him to wake you, then, if he won't shove you.

But that also never comes. The tips of his fingers lightly brush the skin of your hip, and then disappear. You feel his arm wiggle between the both of you, feel him shift a bit on the mattress, but nothing more. He doesn't push you away. Doesn't call your name. Doesn't shake you until you're forced to crawl to the other side.

He gets comfortable. Stiff, but comfortable, and he doesn't move you. You wonder, as the heat of his chest makes you conscious of your heart beating quicker, if it's too late to crawl back on your own.

You wait for what feels like hours contemplating it. So long, it feels like he might've fallen asleep behind you. So long, that you melt into his side of the mattress. So long, that sleep comes and morning soon after before you could even make up your mind.

[cinnamongrl2006]

Can you do a summer evening at Wayne manor fluff with Bruce ,where the reader and him are married

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Hot summer nights*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Warnings: none, tooth rotting fluff.

a/n: this is my attempt at writing more "silly" fluff...I don't know if I succeeded. English is not my first language so there may be typos, soz!!

The A/C had broken on the first of July, and Bruce had sworn he'd call somebody to fix it but here you were, almost an entire month later, sweating on your bed.

You'd pulled the covers off and discarded most clothing except for panties and a tank top. The heat made it hard to do anything, really, so you laid in your bed and hoped for it to get colder by nightfall.

You heard the door of your bedroom open, Bruce sauntered in and threw himself on the bed, groaning.

You looked down at him and brushed your hand through his sweat damp hair.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

"I can't deal with this heat down at the cave, it's too humid." His voice was muffled by the rumpled bed covers.

Your fingers tugged at his hair and guided his head back slightly until he met your gaze. His eyes, usually so cold and distand glowed with a special warmth when he looked at you; it made your heart race.

"Then stay here," You mumbled, "but it's not any better."

"Less humid, plus I've got company." His lips twitched upwards in an almost smile.

You'd grown to understand that was like a beaming smile in Bruce's mind, so you shot him back one of your own.

When you smiled at him he felt like the sun was beaming down on him, like every worry, every complaint he had was reduced to nothing. You were too good for him, he thought, you put up with endless nights and days away, weeks on end where you'd not know where he was or if he'd come back— you shouldn't have to.

You could see the worry etched on his face at that and you brought a hand up to his face.

"Don't second guess yourself." You scolded him as you smoothed the creases in between his eyebrows with your finger.

"I wasn't—" He started.

"I know you, I married you."

It was true, you knew him. Every little thing about him, every one of his thoughts, you could read his mind.

He crawled on the bed, closer to you, and laid his head on your stomach. His face was hot, his hair damp with sweat.

"Ew! Bruce, get off—" You tried to push him off between giggles but he only shifted closer to you whenever you squirmed, so you relented, throwing your head back on the pillows with a soft thud.

From your place on the bed you could see the Gotham city skyline glowing in the distance, the sky was orange and purple as nighttime approached. You knew once it was dark again he'd be getting up and leaving, but for now he was burrowing closer to you, skin sticking against skin, damp and salty when you kissed it.

"Sweetheart? Wake me up when it's dark out." He breathed out.

"You should've fixed the air con if you were gonna fall asleep on me, B." You whined.

He was no longer listening, already drifting off to sleep in your arms, with your fingers sliding through his dark strands.

────୨ৎ────

[l13]

vacation!BRUCE WAYNE can’t stop fucking you<3

cw: NSFW 18+ MDNI !! f!reader, vaginal sex, raw sex, fingering (like for a sec tbh), creampie

wc: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble btw)

After a long day at the beach, you’re all sun-woozy- your body exhausted from the heat, limbs following your brain’s commands a liiittle too slowly. You’re sprawled out on the bed, the sound of the AC blowing almost lulling you to sleep.

You hear the shower turn off and make a mental note to yourself that you'll have to get up soon to shower next, once Bruce finishes up. See, he called dibs on the first shower, so you chose to lie on a clean towel on the bed, a hand over your eyes to block the late afternoon sun.

The bathroom door creaks open. You raise your arm slightly, blinking slowly up at Bruce “S'my turn?” you mumble, half asleep, and Bruce actually grins at you. He runs a hand through his wet hair, droplets falling everywhere, and you soak the sight up.

This man needed a vacation so badly. You were pretty sure you’ve never seen Bruce Wayne smiling so much in your life. And all it took was a little time off. Well, and fucking your brains out every change he got, apparently.

Still, it's safe to say that he was enjoying the getaway, and your heart clenches at how happy and relaxed he looks.

“Your turn.” he nods in reply, walking over to his suitcase with only a towel hanging over his waist, and you’re not tired enough so as not to peak at his ass when he walks by.

He glances back just in time to catch you staring, and chuckles under his breath when he turns to grab a pair of briefs from his bag, “Will I have to carry you there?”

You clear your throat and look away, slightly sheepish about being caught, and groan, stretching your arms above your head, “I’ll manage.. I think.”

You swear you only close your eyes for a second, but when you feel the bed dip next to you, and open them again, Bruce is already beside you wearing briefs and a white sleeveless shirt.

He smiles softly “Sorry, baby. Let me take this towel away, and you can sleep on the bed.” he says gently, tugging at the edge of the towel beneath you. You grab his forearm, shaking your head “No, no. I’ll go.” you murmur, eyelashes still feeling quite heavy. You felt as if you could still feel the heat of the sun wrapped around you like a blanket.

Bruce reaches for your jaw, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek softly, and he leans in to kiss you, almost as if he can’t help himself.

You hum into the kiss, your fingers automatically running through his hair as you lick across his bottom lip, making him groan lowly. You smirk when you pull away, and he licks his lips, leaning down again to kiss against the side of your mouth, “You’re salty.”

You gasp out a laugh, and push him away half-heartedly as you go to stand up, “Alright, you just convinced me to get a move on.”

“Now, wait a minute.” he chuckles, catching you by the waist and pulling you back down “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” he rubs his nose against yours and presses another kiss on your lips, making you sigh out “Bruce..”

He hums and slides his tongue against yours, pulling back with a lewd pop, “I can’t help myself around you, you know that?” he rasps against your neck, licking across your skin, and you tremble, your legs crossing over his waist in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Good. I can’t either.” you confess softly, your fingers still running through his black locks.

He groans, pressing another slow kiss on your lips, hand untying your bikini from your neck and pulling the cups down to reveal your pretty tits.

He pulls back to gaze down at your chest, and you expect his eyes to darken, but Bruce looks at your chest and barks out a laugh.

You still, jaw dropping “Excuse you-”

“I’m sorry baby, there’s some seaweed on you. Here let me-” 

You look down, and sure enough, your tits are covered in sand, with small pieces of seaweed clinging to your skin. You bury your face in your hands and groan. “Oh my God. How does it get everywhere?” you hear Bruce laugh as you feel him slowly peel the pieces of seaweed off you before flicking them off to the side.

You peek between your fingers to look at him. He’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the sides in the way you love, but he’s still fully concentrated on the task at hand. Biting back a lovesick smile, you wiggle your hips a bit, “And my bottoms are still on. Wanna bet on what else I'm going to find down there once I get in the shower?”

“Probably my cum dripping down your thighs.” Bruce deadpans, and your eyes widen.

He had such a way with words.

“Don’t look at me like that. You said it like I’m going to let you go anywhere before fucking you at least once.”

“Bruce!” you laugh, “I’m all salty and gross. I have sand everywhere and apparently- I’m growing a fucking kelp forest on my tits so-” you dust your chest with your hands, palms feeling prickly from the sand on your skin, and it flies around you, falling on clean sheets. You blink up at Bruce, half expecting him to be mad about the mess, but he’s too entranced by the soft bounce of your tits to care.

He licks his lips and shrugs, “Already told you,” he bends down to press his mouth over your nipple, and you gasp, arching your back and digging your nails in his arms. “Salty’s good.” he mumbles, giving you a wink before diving on to your other nipple.

You gasp, pulling at his hair softly, but you still find enough snark in you to mess with him some more, “So is that your final answer?”

He looks up at you, quirking an eyebrow in question, nipple still in his mouth.

“The bet.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, yet his lips tug up, “It is. Actually, I'm already sure that I'll win it.”

You scoff, smiling down at him, “Oh, really. How sure?”

Bruce pulls away from your chest with a lewd pop, and his eyes trace over your features, noting the glazed look in your eyes, the way you bite your lip right then, just from him looking at you.

He tongues at his cheek and grins, “Pretty sure.”

With that, he resumes pressing kisses all over your chest, moving down to your belly, “You’re so fucking beautiful, even with sand all over you. I’ve been dying to fuck you ever since we stepped foot outside this hotel room this morning, you know that? With that flimsy little swimsuit, how could I not?”

“Fuck.” you whimper, your eyes rolling back when he thumbs at your clit over your bikini bottoms, “Is that why you were scowling at me at the beach? Did you want to fuck me then too, baby?”

He groans, nodding along, “So much.” he plants a slow kiss on your lips before pulling back and sitting back on his heels. His eyes were half-lidded, as he stared at the outline of your pussy over your bikini. He kept teasing your clit with his thumb, rubbing up and down, then suddenly pressing in on it just a liittle too hard before rubbing again. It had you circling your hips back against him.

“Fucking look at you.”

Bruce lays a soft slap on the side of your thigh, and you moan softly, “Jus’ put it in baby, c’mon. Need it so bad.”

Bruce hums, pulling his briefs down and rubbing his palm over the head of his cock, before sliding it down to the base to hold it. He shimmies just a tad closer to you and presses the head against your pussy over your bikini.

You whine, feeling him press against you, and he hisses, pushing the head deeper and seeing the material dip only slightly, refusing him entry.

“Don’t tease.” you mumble,

He chuckles lowly, pushing his cock just a tad higher, nudging at your clit, and you whine “Bruuce,”

“Could play with this pussy forever, baby.” he murmurs and bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing as he grabs your bottoms and pulls them to the side. He groans low in his throat when he sees that you're dripping for him. “God- damn. You’re-”

“Soaked? ��S cause I was thinking about you too. Wanted to see if you’d snap, drag me further down the beach just to fuck me right there, where anyone could see.” 

Bruce’s eyes flash and his gaze snaps up to yours, jaw popping. He snarls, grabbing your jaw, his thumb and pointer finger digging into your cheeks as he leans closer, “Maybe I should just fill this smart fucking mouth instead of fucking you, huh? Bet you’d still get off on that.” he grits out, and you whimper, rolling your hips so that the head of his cock now bumps against your bare pussy.

“No, no, please. Need you in my pussy.” your voice is tantalizing, borderline sinful, and his eyes flutter, a shiver running down his back, “No one sees you like this, except for me.” he says against the side of your mouth, and you pant, nodding multiple times.

He snakes his hand down your body, rubbing two fingers over your pussy lips, before slowly pushing them inside your cunt. “Yess..” you hiss, throwing your head back, and Bruce leans down to press various kisses along the shape of your throat. The thumb that was rubbing against your cheek, now tugs at your bottom lip softly.

He pushes his fingers in your cunt two, three times, before curling them and biting softly at the skin just above your collarbone, “Say it.”

You whimper, “No one. No one, only you-!”

Bruce pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in you without warning. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as he fills you completely, his hand letting go of your jaw just to hold your throat, not tight though, never too tight.

He moans, feeling your warm, tight little pussy hug his cock immediately. His hips push forward even though he’s already filled you to the brim, and you whine, “Too much-”

“You can take it.” He huffs, pulling back just for a second to take his shirt off, before latching on you again, hands around your throat and tits, “You always do,” he mutters, before starting his unrelenting pace.

He wasn’t fast this time, no. He went slow, and hard, making sure you felt every fucking inch, every vein of his cock inside your pussy,  every time you felt like he’d bottomed out, he’d push just a liiittle more, his balls slapping against your ass, and you’d moan brokenly, your nails digging into his shoulders and making him hiss with every thrust.

Your hands clutch at the sheets on your sides when he leans back, using the string of your bikini top still around your middle as an anchor, holding it tightly in his fist, hips rolling against your repeatedly. He stares at you hungrily, mouth open and panting as his eyes roam up and down your body.

He was so fucking good to you, but you needed more, you need it harder, so you slap a hand against his ass, your nails digging in his skin as you pull him closer against you, pushing your hips back to meet his own.

His dark chuckle turns into a filthy moan, his head dropping back at the feel of your pussy tightening up around him, “Greedy fucking cunt. Look how she’s sucking me in honey, can barely pull out.” You lean up against your elbows, wanting to watch how your pussy takes him in, how it chases him when he pulls out.

You nod, entranced by the way your pussy stretches around his thick cock, “It’s cause you’re so good to me.” you mumble, “So fucking good, Bruce.”

You look up at him just in time to watch his Adam’s apple bob, and he looks down at you as well, half-lidded eyes dancing across your own. “Yeah?” he moans lowly, and it’s borderline pornographic.

And just when you thought you could cum just like this, just from seeing him so disheveled because of you, he drops his hand flat on your lower belly, thumb dropping on your clit to rub over it, and you tense immediately, hand dropping to claw at his forearm “Bruce-”

He snarls out your name, “Fucking cum for me.” his eyes drink in the way your hips jump, body twisting as you heave, and yet you still roll your hips against him, still push back when he pulls out.

Bruce picks up the pace, chasing after your orgasm like a man starved, and he leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your mouth. You thought you were kissing him back, but you were just panting and moaning against him while he soaked every sound up.

He pinches your clit suddenly, timing a hard thrust perfectly, and he stays there, pushing impossibly closer to you yet again. Your body goes taut immediately, and then the shaking begins. Your thighs tremble around his waist, your vision goes white, ears start to ring, and you can just about hear Bruce moaning and spitting out praises above you.

Pretty fucking girl. So fucking hot for me, shit. Cum for me, you can do it, I know you can. Thaaat’s it, that’s fucking it. Soaking my cock so well, baby. 

<3

“-etheart, you with me?”

Your eyelashes flutter, as you blink, letting out a satisfied whimper. You feel Bruce's hand pat your cheek softly, and you open your eyes to find him staring down at you, sweat dripping down his temple. He smiles, a dimple showing “Hey.”

You smile too, can't really help yourself, “Mm. You almost fucked me to death.” you mumble out, and he lets out a strained chuckle. “Wouldn't want that.”

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's still inside of you, still hard as a rock.

You mewl, instantly clumping down on him, and he grits his teeth, “Baby. You don't have to, you're tired-”

With a newfound strength, you prop yourself against the palm of your hands, and push Bruce back so that you're the one above him, straddling his thick thighs, his cock still snug inside you.

His hands immediately find purchase on your hips, and he squeezes your flesh in his hands appreciatively.

“I want it, I want you.” you mumble against his temple, after licking the sweat dripping down, and you can feel Bruce shiver under you, muttering a small “Fuck.”

Bruce doesn’t swear often, his patience keeping him from losing his cool, and seeing him lose it with you, gave you an extreme sense of satisfaction.

You wrap your hands around his neck, your tits getting squished against his pecs, when you tug him closer, and Bruce rubs his nose against yours, closing the gap between you.

You hum against his mouth, slowly starting to lift and lower your hips on his cock, and Bruce’s hands run up and down your back, later coming down to squeeze your ass to help guide you against him.

“You look so beautiful.” he pants against you, and one hand comes up to grab at your neck from behind, bracing you as he steals another kiss from your lips, this one deeper, more sensual. “As do you.” You whisper against spit-covered lips, your fingers threading through his hair. 

The rolling of your hips turns more aggressive, and after a while you’re practically bouncing on his cock, both you and Bruce moaning in harmony, both of you looking at where you’re joined, your cunt practically milking his cock, and the lewd squelching sound of you coming down on his cock spurs you on.

“Sweetheart go harder-”  Bruce trails off, his eyes rolling back when you reach down to cup his balls in your palm, squeezing softly.

“Like this? You ask breathlessly, your own eyes almost closing, but you force yourself to keep them open, to watch him fall apart beneath you, because of you.

“Yesss..” he grits through his teeth, pushing his hips upwards to meet your relentless pace eagerly. He grabs at your ass to lift you even higher, and now has to practically chase your pussy each time he thrusts up, but at least he successfully managed to shove his face against your tits. 

His groans and grunts, all while trailing open-mouthed kisses all over your chest.

The moment Bruce buries his head against your neck and lets out a whimper low in his throat, you know that he’s just about to go over the edge.

You can't keep control of your voice now either, moaning every time the head of his cock nudges deeper and deeper inside you “Cum for me, baby, please. Want it inside, dripping out of me like you promised.”

 “Will you do that for me, Bruce?”

He pants harshly, his breath hot against your collarbone as he grabs your hip and pushes you down, his left hand keeping your leg up with a hand on the back of your thigh, pushing it against your chest. He braces his right leg up and resumes the pace you’d set with bruising thrusts against your pretty cunt. “Anything. Fu- fuck. I’ll do anything you want.”

You almost sob, as this angle allows him to reach deeper inside you, and Bruce notices, “You’re gonna cum again.” he declares breathlessly, and you shake your head, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks “I can’t, I can’tttt-”

“You can.” he grits out, “Pussy’s pulsing around me like crazy, baby. You will.”

“Please.. Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Fuck- sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna cum for you, gonna give you everything.”

“Yes, yes fffucking cum inside me, need it so bad, I need it sooo badd.” you’re a blabbering mess, your voice cracking every time Bruce thrusts back inside you, and he’s no better. 

He’s groaning, his eyebrows pinched together and his hand clutching your waist like his life depends on it, and he only lets you go to rub tight circles on your swollen little clit, watching you writhe and twitch against him once more. 

You scream, throwing your head back over the edge of the bed, and Bruce follows right behind, thrusting two-three more times before pushing his hips taut against you and staying there, all while letting out the hottest moans you’ve ever heard in your life as he cums inside of you “Take it, take every single drop.” he mutters, his eyes dropping to watch your cunt take everything he’s got, his finger still drawing lazy circles on your clit, making you whine.

“S too much-”

There’s a white ring decorating the base of his cock when Bruce pulls out slowly, and it makes his jaw tick, makes him want to bend you over and give you more of him.

You mewl when you feel him slip out, and mumble something that Bruce can’t make out. 

When you open your eyes after what feels like hours, Bruce is looking at you with pure adoration in his face, a sheepish pussy-drunk grin to match his gaze, and you make a mental note right then and there to force him to go on vacations more often.

(also yeah, he won that 'bet')

2025 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[snowluvvie]

₊˚⊹ ♡ . JUST SHOW UP AND BE PRETTY.

“Mr. and Mrs. Robertson are the ones whose daughter just went off to college… she’s a hospitality major, I think… or maybe it was nursing—argh!” You drop your head into your hands, your notecards crinkling at the edges before you toss them down onto the dresser, giving up on your studying. “I’m never gonna be able to remember all this.”

Bruce rounds the corner, shrugging on his shirt casually. He isn’t even dressed, and the gala starts in twenty minutes.

“No one expects you to.” He hums placidly.

“You’re the CEO, it’s gonna look bad if I’m with you and I don’t know anyone’s names.” A frown starts to tug your mouth downwards, your teeth digging into your bottom lip anxiously.

As he finishes buttoning his shirt, looking entirely too handsome in plain, crisp white, Bruce crosses the room and joins you in front of his dresser. He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your lips in an attempt to smooth your growing frown. You lean into his touch automatically, his hand warm against your skin.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t work. Tonight’s supposed to be fun—at least a little, I’d hoped.” The baritone of his voice is so soothing, your concerns practically melt at the first comforting word that leaves his mouth. Bruce has always had a way of doing that, of saying things with such resolute calmness that they had to be true.

“Just don’t wanna embarrass you.” You mumble, though you knew he had already suspected as much.

Bruce lets out a slow, quiet sigh, his hand drifting down to rest on the crook of your neck. He tugs you gently forward, and you let him, as he makes you turn to face the mirror. You’re in the cobalt blue gown he picked out, throat and ears studded with matching sapphires. As you look in the mirror, your eyes don’t stay trained on your own reflection for long—rather, they flick to Bruce, who’s looming over you like some overly handsome and comforting phantom. He squeezes your neck reassuringly.

“Look at yourself. How could you embarrass me when you look like this?”

Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your mouth start to tip up into a small smile. Bruce catches it and grins, flashing his teeth in a way that’s equally as intoxicating every time he does it. Secretly, you spend most of your time together trying to coax those from him.

He dips his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, and you shudder lightly at his breath against your skin. “Just be there, and be next to me, and be gorgeous. Everyone will love you.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes start to drift shut, lulled by his voice in your ear, like he’s hypnotizing you. You nod numbly, suddenly very agreeable with whatever he had to say. He lets out a small, deep laugh into your ear, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he pulls back from you.

“We’re gonna be late.” You point out, a whine at the edge of your voice from the sudden absence of him against you.

“Yes, definitely.” He replies.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | age gap, reader is nineteen | mild exhibitionism | size difference | choking | objectification (f receiving)

BRUCE WAYNE was in the hot seat. Well, more appropriately, Batman was in the hot seat. Which meant it was time for the billionaire playboy to make a public appearance so controversial, any press worth their tacks would cover his televised blunder rather than some depressing masked vigilante’s dealings. People prefer gossip over politics, and Bruce knows how to work an angle.

You’re a fresh adult, but the people already know you. A perfect Gotham sweetheart: a little darling on the front cover of lingerie magazines, starring as a bombshell in motion pictures, named the honor of the Ice Princess last month. You wore your little feathery outfit, next to nothing in the freezing cold, and turned on the city's giant Christmas tree lights just as the Ice Princess does every year. Known for your youth and beauty, Bruce knew you were the perfect candidate to take all the attention away from where it shouldn't be. Tabloids couldn't decide whether to praise the seasoned billionaire for landing a nineteen-year-old catch, or condemn him for having a mid-life crisis.

"Bruce Wayne seen with Gotham's Ice Princess." was everywhere anyone looked. It seemed the city had taken quite a protective role over you, which is exactly what Bruce needed.

Now that he's got you, he flaunts you. He lets you lug him around town, any local events that could be televised are his priorities. There, he makes a big show of touching you in ways only a lover is allowed to. Things that make you pat his huge bicep scoldingly. "Brucie!" you chide with a gasp, "You're so shameless." you say, but you fucking love it. How he openly mouths at your neck, lapping and sucking on your pulse point enough for lewd pretty sounds to slew from your parted lips. Little whimpers that any onlookers eat up.

He'll grope you unabashedly, big hand grabbing at your ass or giving it a swat. He needs those cameras to see how gross he is, how crazy he is about his nineteen-year-old situationship. If you get kissed, it's fucking sloppy. Mostly tongue, tongue outside the mouth as much as he can appropriately get away with. His "dirty sense of humor" will bleed into the public scene as well, hugging you from behind only to jokingly engulf your neck with his hand to fake a choke.

Every single one of these things he does for attention, leaves you hot and bothered. Frustrated from his treatment of you that's so warm when there are prying eyes, but so cold when you're finally alone together. You want Bruce Wayne to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but when doors are closed suddenly it's: "Something's come up." or "The sushi hit me wrong." Or the worst one of all: the polite, civilized, but uninterested act. You're all over him, begging for him to finally fuck you after stringing you along and teasing you so ardently all day, and he treats you as if you are an acquainted business associate who has overstayed her welcome. You don't get it. An hour ago he was pulling your neckline towards him for a peek down your dress, and now he's showing you the door with a smile on his face.