𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐌!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : A few weeks after the gala, things between you and Bruce Wayne shift. Bruce stops trying to control things or win you back with money, instead letting you set the pace completely. He only sees you when you want, speaks when you allow it, and follows your lead without complaint, almost afraid of losing you again. | Word Count : 2.0k
𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 + 𝐅𝐃𝐍𝐈 mature content below.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Post breakup angst, explicit sexual content, emotional dependency, boundary issues, desperate love confession, wet + messy Bruce Wayne, reunion sex, soft dom/sub undertones, unprotected sex, Bottom!M!Reader, Top!Bruce, Lovesick, Yearnful, (A Little Subby) Bruce Wayne.
A few weeks had passed since the gala, and somehow… the balance had shifted. Bruce didn’t push anymore, He didn’t send money—He didn’t orchestrate your life. You called when you wanted to talk, You asked to see him when you felt like it. And Bruce followed that rhythm without complaint—almost like he was afraid one wrong move would scare you away again. Tonight had been his idea, though. A date, but even then he’d left the choice to you. The restaurant was small. Quiet. Candlelit but not extravagant. No paparazzi outside. No socialites pretending to care about each other’s lives. Just the low conversations and rain tapping softly against the windows. Across the table, Bruce watched you like a man starved. His eyes dragged over you slowly, deliberately —like he was memorizing every detail. The collar of your shirt. The way your fingers curled around the wine glass. Your mouth when you smiled.
“Enjoying the view?” you asked dryly. Bruce didn’t even try to deny it. “Very much.” His voice dropped slightly. “You’re distracting.” You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. The waiter came with the check a few minutes later. Bruce’s hand hovered over it, but he didn’t grab it immediately. Instead, he looked up at you. You’d noticed he’d been doing that all night —that quiet, wordless asking. Permission in his eyes for every small thing. You took a sip of wine, pretending to think about it. Then you mumbled into the glass, “Go ahead.” Bruce’s shoulders relaxed almost instantly. “Thank you,” he said softly, taking the bill. Outside, You waved down a taxi easily, the city lights reflecting off the damp pavement. Bruce stood beside you, hands in his coat pockets, watching you with that same heavy gaze. “You’ll make it home alright?” he asked when the taxi pulled up. You turned toward him with a small smirk.“I’ll be alright, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce opened the door for you automatically. But he didn’t close it. Instead he leaned slightly against the frame, still looking at you like he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment end. You tilted your head. “Come tuck me in?” Bruce didn’t hesitate. He slid into the cab beside you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Your apartment hallway was quiet when you reached it. You walked ahead, Bruce following a step behind like he’d learned his place in this strange new dynamic. At your door you paused, turning toward him. “Thank you for the night out, Bruce.”He stepped a little closer, hands clasped behind his back—almost formal. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Anytime.” That pause returned. The one that always seemed to hover between you two now. That pull neither of you quite knew how to resist. So you closed the distance. Your hands slid into his hair as you kissed him. Bruce made a quiet sound against your mouth— surprised and desperate all at once— before leaning into it hard. You stumbled back against the door. His hands moved instinctively to your sides, gripping lightly before sliding down to your thighs. In one smooth motion he lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as the kiss deepened, both of you breathing harder.
When you finally pulled back, Bruce looked completely wrecked. Hair messy. Lips swollen. Eyes dark. All from thirty seconds of kissing. “Put me down,” you said softly. He did immediately, slow and careful, like you were fragile. You turned, grabbing your keys with trembling fingers. The adrenaline from the kiss buzzed through you. Your hand slipped on the lock. Behind you, Bruce stepped closer. His larger hand covered yours, steadying it. Together, you twisted the knob and opened the door. You stepped inside, Then turned back.“Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.” And closed the door, Leaving him in the hallway.
Rain hammered against your windows. It had been a little while since you’d seen Bruce last. Which was why the knock at your door surprised you. You weren’t expecting anyone. When you opened it, Bruce stood there completely drenched. His hair clung to his forehead. His shirt was soaked through. Rainwater dripped from his coat onto your floor. Bruce Wayne looked unsure. Like he didn’t know what to say now that he’d actually made it here. “Bruce—what the hell?” you said immediately. “You’re soaked.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. Water pooled on the floor beneath him. “Are you okay?” Bruce looked at you for a long moment, Then he shook his head. “No.” The honesty hit harder than anything else. You softened immediately.“Bruce…” He ran a hand through his wet hair, breathing out shakily. “I tried to stay away,” he admitted. “I tried to do everything right this time.” He looked up at you again, eyes raw. “But every day without you feels wrong.” He stepped closer. “I hear people say there’s life after love,” he continued quietly. “That you move on. That you find something new.” Your chest tightened. “For me… there wouldn’t be.” His voice cracked just slightly. “I don’t think there would be anything left of me.”
Silence hung between you, Then you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. Bruce froze for half a second before melting into it, hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his. “I want you,” you whispered. “All of you.”You kissed him again. Bruce breaks the kiss just long enough to lift you effortlessly, his muscles flexing under your touch. You wrap your legs around his hips instinctively, locking your ankles behind his back, feeling the hard ridge of his erection pressing against you through your clothes. He walks toward the bed in your dimly lit bedroom, each step deliberate, his breath hot against your neck as he nips at your skin. he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine. He reaches the edge of the bed and lowers you onto the soft mattress, his hands lingering on your thighs as he straightens up. Standing over you, Bruce's eyes darken with desire, locked on yours while his fingers move to the buttons of his crisp soaked shirt. One by one, he unbuttons it slowly, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. You watch, transfixed, as he tugs the shirt free from his pants and shrugs it off his broad shoulders, the fabric whispering as it slides away.
Bruce tosses the shirt aside carelessly, letting it land in a heap on the floor. He kneels between your spread legs, the mattress dipping under his weight, his hands sliding up your thighs to hook into the waistband of your pants. He pauses, looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes, a silent question in their depths—permission, always, even in the heat of the moment.“Go ahead,” you whisper, your voice thick with need, reaching down to thread your fingers through his dark hair. A slow, genuine smile curves Bruce's lips, softening the intensity of his gaze for a heartbeat. His hands working your pants open and sliding them down along with your underwear, freeing your hardening cock. It springs up, already leaking pre-cum at the tip, and Bruce's eyes flick to it appreciatively before he leans in. His breath ghosts over your skin first, warm and teasing, making your cock twitch. Then his lips part, and he takes you into his mouth slowly. The wet heat envelops you, and you gasp, hips bucking slightly. Bruce's hand wraps around the base, stroking what his mouth can't reach yet, his other hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady. He hums around you, the vibration shooting straight to your core, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as his head bobs, cheeks hollowing with each suck.
“Fuck, Bruce...” you groan, your fingers tightening in his hair, not guiding but just holding on as he works you over. He pulls back slightly, lips dragging along your cock before swirling his tongue around the head, lapping up the bead of pre-cum there. “You taste so good,” he murmurs against your skin, voice muffled, before taking you deeper, throat relaxing to swallow more of you. His pace is unhurried, savoring every inch, every reaction—your moans, the way your abs tense, the flush creeping up your chest. He alternates between deep sucks and lighter licks, his free hand massaging your balls gently, rolling them in his palm. The build is torturous in the best way, pleasure coiling tight in your gut as he brings you to the edge but doesn't let you tip over. After what feels like an eternity of that exquisite torment, Bruce pulls off with a wet pop, his lips shiny and swollen, a string of saliva connecting him to your throbbing cock. He strokes you lazily, eyes meeting yours. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come.” You nod, breathless, as he stands to shed the rest of his clothes—pants and boxers kicked aside, revealing his thick, hard cock curving upward, veins prominent and tip glistening. He grabs lube from the nightstand, slicking his fingers generously before kneeling back between your legs. One finger presses against your entrance, circling slowly before pushing in, the stretch burning sweetly as he crooks it to find that spot inside you.
“Oh god,” you hiss, arching off the bed as he adds a second finger, scissoring them to open you up. Bruce leans down to kiss you again, swallowing your moans, his free hand pinning your hip. “Relax for me,” he whispers against your lips. “You're doing so well.” His fingers thrust steadily, curling just right, until you're panting and rocking back against his hand, ready for more. Finally, he withdraws, coating his cock with lube before positioning himself. The blunt head nudges your hole, and he pushes in inch by inch, slow and controlled, letting you feel every thick ridge. You both groan at the sensation—him sinking into your tight heat, you filled so completely. “So tight... perfect,” Bruce breathes, bottoming out and holding still, forehead pressed to yours as you adjust. When you nod, he starts moving, pulling back almost all the way before sliding back in, deep and deliberate. Each thrust is passionate, measured, his hips rolling to hit that sweet spot every time. The bed creaks softly under you, skin slapping skin in a rhythmic cadence. One hand bracing beside your head while the other strokes your cock in time with his thrusts.
“Tell me how it feels,” you manage, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer, deeper. Your hands roam his back, nails digging into the flexing muscles.“Like heaven,” Bruce replies, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. He picks up the pace just a fraction, still slow but more insistent, grinding against you on every inward push. Water beads on his skin, dripping onto yours, and you can feel the tension building in him, in you—the way his cock throbs inside, your own pulsing in his grip.“I'm close,” you warn, and he nods, thrusts turning even more focused, angling to drive you both toward release. “Cum for me,” he urges, breath hot in your ear. The words tip you over, pleasure crashing through you as you spill over his hand, clenching around him. Bruce follows seconds later, burying himself deep with a guttural moan, filling you with hot pulses of cum. Bruce collapses gently onto you, both of you breathing hard, his lips brushing your temple. He rolls to the side, pulling you into his arms, and you nestle against his chest, sated and warm. Sheets tangled around both of you. You lay half draped across Bruce’s chest, tracing slow circles against his chest. Bruce watched the ceiling for a long moment before speaking. “…Marry me.” You lifted your head. “What?”Bruce turned to look at you. There was no hesitation in his expression now. “I know the timing is terrible,” he continued quietly. “And I know I’m still learning how to love you the way you deserve.” His thumb brushed your cheek. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said simply. “Not chasing you. Not trying to buy my way back into your life.” Your chest warmed, You leaned up and kissed him. “Yes.” Bruce’s breath caught. “Yeah?” Bruce exhaled a laugh of pure relief, pulling you close. “Love you, Mr. Wayne,” you murmured, tracing circles over his heart. He smiled against your hair. “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.”
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ~@magicstarbits @capsicleforever @loverclear @gayaristocrat @godjustkys @sluttyhusband @carnalcrows @amor-xoxo @loverboyisaac @gayaristocrat @manlover0729 @cronasluvr @celestiallightking @spnfanboy777 @elreystories @billyloveworld88
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