𓂃 𓈒𓏸 pride iii
pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x reader
prompt: "begging doesn't suit me."
warnings: 18+ MDNI, not outright smut but its suggestive, bondage, shibari . . .
word count: 372
a/n: i remember seeing the batman when it came out and i fell in love with paul dano !! actually !! lmfao and i even cosplayed as the riddler :") but i recently watched the drama and robert pattinson and his slutty glasses,, damn,,,, i even rewatched mickey 17 too and his VOICE anywho lfmao
it's my first time writing for him, so im sorry if it sounds weird <3 :)))
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The warehouse wasn't the most suitable place. Hell it wasn't your first choise, but you can make do. The far-away drip of some mysterious liquid in the background, ominous creeks, the cold nip of night biting at your fingertips. You adjust your gloves leisurely — quietly reprimanding yourself for the fingerless ones — opening and closing your hands, checking over your coat and pockets, tapping the toe of your shoes on the floor like you have all the time in the world. Like you don't have Batman genuflect against concrete, wrapped in ladders and motifs of rope. Sitting on his heels, calves to thigh, wrists together and behind his back.
The cords creak as he fumbles, tensing his muscles, shaking his torso as if to help him free. A sigh releases from his lips.
"Is this… Is this really necessary?"
Turning your attention back to him, head hung low, hair curtaining his face and fluttering in the cool breeze, back curved inward. You tilt your head to the side with the tiniest of smiles, teeth on show, watching his breath deepen, how it moves his spine.
"You don't like it? But i worked so hard," you pout, inching closer to him. "Knotted them up pretty, too. Searched up how to do those pretty patterns."
He looks up again, this time with a face of pure impassivity.
With a tut, you roll your eyes, kicking a stray pebble under the sole of your boot.
"You're no fun, you know that?" Clicking your tongue in a rhythm, you shrug. "Could make it fun and at least beg to be let out or something…"
His eyes hardened as his thick brows furrow. "Begging doesn't suit me."
"Oh, well I think you're wrong," you giggle softly, letting the toe of your boot slide against the side of his thigh, slow and precise. "That rough voice, that mop of hair… those puppy dog eyes…"
Squatting down with your elbows to your knees, your gloved fingers hold his head up. You smile as you swipe a couple strands of damp hair from his eyes, resisting the urge to ruffle it up further, to sink your fingers in and tug, leaning ever so closer. "I think you're perfect for it, Bruce."
