Okay but the Batfam thinking reader still doesn't know their secret identities and using it to their advantage to give into their desires without the guilt after saving her. The reader playing along because she's been lusting after them for years now.
Nothing like bringing Batman/Robins/Batgirls into your bed to thank them for saving you.
OH?? You little freaks/pos
This is actually canon to the pseudocest universe, I think I put that in once. But NOT canon to the Clingy Bruce AU.
Warning: pseudocest, identity porn(?), shame, they think the reader doesn’t know, but she knows, female!reader because anon used she/her pronouns to describe reader, SMUT, OOC behaviour, ‘daddy’ used in a sexual context, etc.
(Specific smut warnings: pseudocest, daddy kink, implied somnophilia, dub-con but only from the batfam’s perspective MOSTLY, overstimulation, edging, whining & whimpering, we’re torturing this family, the reader can get a bit mean, oral sex, penetrative sex, fucked dumb (?), Tim can only really curse for his part so I don’t know if it counts, grinding, mentions of masturbation, etc.)
This one is the worst of the bunch because this guy is a FATHER FIGURE. He shouldn’t be doing this, not with a civilian and certainly not with you.
Half-aware that you have some inkling as to who is behind the mask but chooses to believe that you and him are both in denial about it. (He thinks you’re also choosing to believe it’s not him behind the mask but you are fully aware and accepting of it.)
Very hard/firm on you during the actual act but not cruel or particularly rough. He likes to take his time—to enjoy you completely and as much as he can before you are inevitably ripped from his hands and move on and get a partner who will be able to love you and touch you and hold you in all the way that Bruce cannot and that Batman cannot fully act upon.
He doesn’t know that you’re here to stay.
You don’t know if you were put in this position because he didn’t want you looking at his face for too long and somehow figuring out his identity or if he just wanted you like this.
But you don’t really care.
Each one of his thrusts was harsh—slow things that almost knock you forward if not for the firm grip he has on your nape, pushing your face down into the pillow.
His low, modulated voice fills the room with rough mumbled words that just barely reach you and groans that vibrate through your flesh and have you clenching and gushing around him. Greedy like he’s the only man you ever want inside you like this.
“Like that?” He grunts, giving a hard snap of his hips that have you crying out and nodding your head mindlessly to whatever he said.
His free hand is low on your back and rising, tracing your spine like it was something miraculous to worship, like the arch of your back was something to commit to memory.
“Fuck- take it,” he hisses as you clench around him, trying to drag him in deeper, trying to get him to go faster, harder. “Take it, sweetheart, take it-“
The little pet name slips out naturally, almost instinctively. It’s what he calls you when you’re sleepy in the mornings and what he calls you when you call him crying to pick you up from school or whatever else.
It’s what he calls his daughter.
And, for some reason, it sends a flood of heat through your bones, turning you to mush at a simple word.
“Daddy,” you whine, legs trembling with an ache beyond you.
And he moans, crumbling at the sound of you whimpering beneath him, for him, though not really, and fucks into you harder, faster. “It’s okay, it’s okay-“ he pants. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you- I’m going make it all better.”
“Daddy’s cock is going to make it all go away.”
Super duper deep in denial when he’s forced to confront the reality of the situation and that you know that it’s him behind the mask and want him anyway—maybe even because of it.
But he is also literally never letting you leave. Ever.
It’s this weird thing where he literally refuses to accept it and refuses to act upon any urges as Bruce until you get fed up and wake him up one morning by riding him.
Also deep in denial but in a slightly different way because he’s not your dad, he’s your older brother. (Even though you’re technically not related.)
Probably masturbated to a few photos of you and blocked it out afterwards.
Completely unaware that you know it’s him behind the mask and both consciously and subconsciously ignoring everything that says otherwise.
He curls his hands firmly over your thighs, helping you sink down on him by steadying you but doing it more so just to cling to your skin, to tether himself to something solid as he watches with wide eyes behind his domino mask as your cunt slowly, carefully swallows up every inch of him.
He’s gasping from the moment you graze the tip of him. His eyes are rolling back when you take him up to the hilt.
Beautiful. Your cunt is squeezing and dripping all around him, gripping at him like a hot, wet fist and the only thing he can think is—‘You’re beautiful.’
He doesn’t say it, he can’t with the way you’re beginning to ride him and leaving the usually chatty man speechless with the way you take him so easily, so eagerly.
But he knows it’s plain on his face, or what you can see of his face.
Face flushed, ears red, panting, hands gripping tight on your hips and thighs. He feels pathetic. He feels dirty. He feels needy.
But you’re gorgeous like this. Because you’re panting. You’re moaning as you lift yourself up, up, up until there’s danger of him accidentally slipping out then taking him in full all over again.
“Love- fuck-“ he finds himself saying, whimpering with his skin thrumming a low tune of wrong, wrong, wrong. “Fucking love this cunt, baby- fucking love it-“
You smile and giggle at him, gasping when he flexes his hips upwards, completely oblivious to the fact that it’s your older brother who’s beneath you, that beneath the mask of Nightwing lay Dick Grayson and his depraved desires.
You both love each other a lot in this.
However, that love is inherently sinful due to the nature of it.
You don’t care but he does.
But it doesn’t matter, really, because even when he does find out and gets angry that you knew for all this time, he’ll still be the one crawling into your bed, crawling into your heart, and whining against your neck because it’s all he wants, all he needs.
Practically roleplay to her, honestly.
Finds out that you’re fully aware when you smile up at her in the middle of it from where you lay between her legs. You’re too relaxed, too willing, and looking just a bit too mischievous to not know.
Can’t find it in her to care when you swoop back down and begin to devour her feverishly.
Her hands grasps at the sheets helplessly, clawing at them and bunching them up in her hands like a lifeline. Cass can’t help but try to grind her hips against your face, trying to get more, but you press her hips back down and leave her whining and whining as your tongue slips inside her, the hot muscle thrusting in and out with an erratic sort of worship that she didn’t know you had in you.
She feels like she’s spinning out of control, tumbling out on the other side of paradise. “____,” she half-sobs, half-moans. You’ve been doing this to her for hours, eating her out, shoving your fingers inside of her, making an absolute mess of her cunt, but each time she gets close, each time she almost cums, you pull away with a wide grin on your face.
“‘Lease,” she slurs, tongue heavy in her mouth and fumbling. “Please, I wanna- I wanna-“
“Shh,” you hush her gently like you weren’t being entirely cruel and unfair to her. “You said I could do whatever I wanted to you, you said I could have my way.”
Cass whines, something desperate and wanting crawling up her throat. “I’ve been- I’ve been-“
“I know, I know,” you murmur, placing a sweet little kiss on her clit that wracks through her entire body like an electrical shock. “You’ve been so, so good for me, baby. But you’re just gonna have to wait a little bit longer.”
She does sob when you slip your fingers back inside her and curl them in a way that has her just on the edge of it all.
“Just a little bit longer.”
Comes out the other end dazed, panting, dehydrated, a little scared of you, and way too attracted to you.
You’re a civilian, dude, how did you tire her out like this? (Because she let you.)
The most romantic one of out all of them but still has an image to keep up.
Genuinely kind and gentle with you (even though he does make fun of you a bit) but also doesn’t know where to put his hands half the time.
Does not think you know who he is and that you have a thing for serial killers or some weird shit.
Jason is entirely wrapped around you and you around him.
Your legs are wound around his hips, ankles locked at his lower back, and arms around his torso, clinging to him tightly and pressing him down further against you. He’s got his face shoved into your collarbones, cock shoved deep enough inside you that you could feel him in your throat, that you could feel him everywhere, and with his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you even closer, if possible, you almost felt like one being. Like there was no beginning of you and no end of him.
“Red-“ you gasp when he grinds hard into you, leaving you to throw your head back against the pillows.
He leans back only to come down and press sloppy kisses from the middle of your collarbone up to your throat, coming up to your jaw, and then, after a half-second of hesitation, ending at your mouth. You whimpering into his mouth and he swallows the sound up with reverence. “Yeah, yeah,” he pants into your mouth, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, chuckling when you accept him almost instantly. “I know.”
And then he’s sliding one of his arms out of the hold he has on your waist and sliding a gloved hand down, down, down your abdomen and to that vulnerable little clit of yours.
He shudders at the feeling of your flesh beneath his fingers, cock twitching inside you. Then, his fingers are moving, pressed into your clit and massaging little circles into the nub that are slowly making you go insane.
He gasps into your mouth when buck your hips up against his. “I know.”
You may not love him. Hell, you may not even like him. But you like Red Hood. You like being beneath him. And maybe that’s enough for now.
He cares about you like a LOT in this and I hope that’s clear.
Will be having a bit of a revelation when he finds out that you do know because what do you mean you want all of him? What do you mean you don’t just want the Red Hood but that you also want Jason too? Crazy stuff.
He does not know that you know and is taking full advantage of it.
There is still shame there of course, he’s not a complete degenerate, but y’know, not enough.
His skin is boiling. There’s a popping and crackling heat that has settled beneath his skin and-
He muffles a groan by pressing his lips together as you lick one long strip on the underside of his cock. Your eyes are dead set on his own, a mischievous, almost playful light in them as you take the tip of him into your mouth and begin to suck.
Tim fumbles to grab onto the desk beneath him, gripping onto the wood for dear life as the warm wet heat of your mouth wraps around him entirely.
“Fuck-“ he mutters, knuckles going white from the hold he has on the desk. “Fuck, fuck-“
There’s a low burning shame in him, an ember at the pit of his stomach, but it’s far too easy to ignore when you swallow around him and begin to take him deeper-
“Oh, shit- just like that, just like that-“
Thinks he’s the one with the cameras. The one watching. (He is terribly wrong and he soon finds out about this when after he finds out that you knew all this time, you lift up a usb drive with a smile, ready to blackmail him if necessary to make him keep quiet. He has never been more attracted to a person ever.)
This one is going to be the most sfw out of all of them.
This boy is a ROMANTIC. He’s going to want to take things slow but may not be able to.
Genuinely thinks you’re the prettiest thing ever and wants to do all that weird couple-y shit he used to hate but is now realizing maybe he was just jealous.
He’s kissing at your neck—soft, gentle, light things that have you giggling against him. (He wishes he could keep the sound in a bottle.)
Your hands are in his hair, holding him to your skin, holding him, and scraping your fingers and nails across his scalp pleasantly.
There’s something bittersweet about it. About the fact that Robin gets this but Damian doesn’t. (And may never.)
Robin gets to kiss you, Robin gets to hold you, Robin gets grind up against you until he’s on the edge of bursting and does, and you let it all happen.
But Damian is just your little brother. Damian is just the boy who climbed into your bed for comfort and not for your body.
His hands tighten on you. You let them.
He wishes he could hold you like other men do—publicly.
(And he can’t help but feel jealous even as he bucks his hips up against your thigh and you giggle, hands reaching for his belt.
Because Damian doesn’t get this, Robin does.)
He is going to be in so much agony when he does quit being Robin and pursues the medical field. (He thinks he’s losing you.)
So very jealous—not only of himself but literally of anything and everyone because he’s insecure about his place beside you and what he wants from you.
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janainaart
