Hii! Love your Clark Kent x male reader one (is the perfect freak). I was wondering if you’d be ok with writing a Bruce Wayne fic or even Damian Wayne in a similar manner? Needy, not first time having sex per se but first time being submissive, they enjoy it a ton. Def a bit of crying on their part, either from being close to finishing or just intense pleasure. Like you did with Clark Kent can you go into how they prepped, like I think Bruce Wayne might not shave, his muscular hairiness is part of his charm, but Damian in my eyes would because of hygiene. I think they would both also research before they did anything
Adjusting with Bruce Wayne
Bruce is used to a carefully constructed routine. every day is the same with sparse changes throughout. one day he’ll wake up early enough for lunch, another day he wakes closer to dinner. easy to work around
but when he meets you, he has to adjust. he really, really hates adjusting
you take care of him in ways he isn’t used to. when he wakes up late, you’re already in bed with him, your warmth pulling him back to reality. it’s comforting
when you’re with him, time seems to pass by slower. his constant thirst for something he can’t quite name is quenched
you’re almost constantly holding him, whispering sweet nothings to him. he doesn’t understand what you see in him, but he’s never felt so lucky
the days when you’re gone are the hardest. the nights when he has to leave you in his bed, listening to your tired protests, your hands reaching out and trying to pull him back under the covers, are the hardest
guilt settles deep in Bruce’s gut, frustrating and constantly nagging at him to make it up to you. he thinks about it for months before he decides he can’t force you or himself to wait any longer
you’ve had sex before, usually limited to frotting or handjobs on the days he can’t quite open his eyes. you help wake him up, get his heart racing enough that he can’t fall back asleep
but you both want more than that. and now, finally, he’s ready to give you that something more you’ve both been craving
it’s humiliating having the package be presented to him in Alfred’s hands, and he quickly excuses himself from lunch to run up to his room and lock himself inside
he’s already had a shower in preparation for this moment, cleaning himself as well as he can manage, his hair still damp
the plug itself is horribly intimidating, but he knows he can work himself up to that. he lays himself down on his bed and squirts lube onto his fingers, nervously reaching behind himself until his fingers meet his own puckered rim
he coaxes himself into relaxing and works one finger, and then two fingers inside over the course of a few minutes. he’s completely new to this, so he takes his time exploring and adjusting to the odd sensation of his own fingers inside of himself
it’s not exactly unpleasant, but it isn’t very arousing either. he hums into his pillows as he arches his back, working in a third lubed finger until he’s satisfied with the stretch
he curses at himself when he realises he still has to wash the plug before he can use it, his brain clouded with lust, impairing his usually thorough methods of thinking
discreetly, he dresses himself in a robe and makes a beeline for the kitchen, quietly boil washing the toy in question along with some of his other intimate purchases. he rinses everything with cool water before he returns to his room, hands shaking
he trembles as he slides two lubed fingers inside of himself, testing his previous preparations, before he lubes up the plug
unlike his fingers, the presence of something warm and thick inside of him is incredibly pleasurable. Bruce moans quietly into his silk pillows as he takes it down to the flared base
when you arrive at the mansion an hour later, he’s already biting his nails to distract himself from the intense fullness and daunting situation in front of him
you both enjoy a quiet dinner, though your gaze lingers as you turn to him throughout the meal, clearly sensing that something is off
he worries his bottom lip between his teeth before he invites you up to his room, and you can quickly guess why he’s behaving so strangely
but guessing and actually looking at Bruce are two different things. he’s vulnerable and naked, laying beneath you on his bed, hiding his face in his elbow as you inspect the black gem on the base of the plug nestled between his legs
he hadn’t chosen it intentionally, hadn’t known your response to it would be so strong, but he is endlessly thankful
you climb on top of him like a man possessed, ripping the clothes from your own body impatiently, and his thighs won’t stop shaking
you grasp the flared base and pull the plug out of him with a wet ‘pop’, leaning over him to reach the bottle of lube on his nightstand
Bruce drags his arm away from his face to watch as you stroke yourself, the lubricant smeared onto your skin making it glisten, and his pale skin is flushed down to his chest
you lean down and kiss his cheek, sliding your hands up and down his scarred body soothingly as you line yourself up with his gaping hole
he accepts every inch without much resistance, his legs tense as they remain spread, gasping for breath as he feels the last few girthy inches stretch him out, consciously relaxing until you’re sheathed inside of him
whatever preconceived notions he had about anal beforehand completely dissipate from his mind
it’s so hot and long and thick. he feels so full, so connected with you. it feels right
he drags his nails down your back in encouragement, pulling you down until you’re laying chest to chest with him, bare skin against bare skin
Bruce kisses you passionately once you’re close enough, making soft sounds against your mouth as your hips slowly begin rolling, stirring up his insides
he raises his hips to meet your movements, dragging one of his legs up, his knee draped over your hip, pulling you impossibly closer
you lick into his mouth as you begin a slow, even pace, your fingers digging into the skin of his waist as the slap of your bodies meeting fills his bedroom
it’s obscene, and Bruce doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good before in his life
he scratches along your shoulder blades, his quiet moans and hisses increasing in volume, even as he breaks your kiss and bites his own lip to keep quiet
“does it feel that good?” you murmur, smiling softly as he averts your eyes. “let me see if I can find it…”
he tunes you out, too preoccupied by staving off his own premature orgasm to pay your words any mind. his cock leaks where it’s trapped between both of your stomachs, flushed red and aching
suddenly, you dig your fingers into his hips and raise them, folding his sturdy, flexible body almost in half, his knees nearly touching the mattress
the moment you change his position, your cock bumps against a spot inside of him that makes him see stars. he shouts, grasping at the bedsheets as you hit his prostate with every thrust
his jaw goes slack, his toes curling, legs still sticking up in the air as the pleasure quickly overwhelms him. he babbles, drool dripping down his chin as he shakes his head, trying to protest, to save his dignity
but he can’t. it just feels too good
Bruce tosses his head back with a loud moan as he comes untouched, milky ropes of come spraying between your stomachs as tears wet his eyes
he cries shamelessly when you don’t immediately pull out, squirming beneath you in an effort to break free as you just keep thrusting, hitting his throbbing prostate again and again like he didn’t just reach orgasm
he sobs, trying to hide his face in the pillow beneath his head as hot tears roll down his cheeks
finally, your hips still, your cock pulsing deep inside of him as you fill him. he chokes on a moan as you release your grip on his legs, immediately wrapping them around your waist to keep you close
he feels your lips on his cheeks, refusing to open his eyes as he’s cradled in your arms
if he knew it would feel so good, he would’ve asked you to fuck him months ago
Bruce Wayne leaned against the brick wall, his suit uncomfortably sticking to his skin with how badly he’s been sweating. Each movement caused his breath to hitch, the material grazing the cut on his side. Thankfully not deep, but it hurt like a bitch.
He reached over, unlocking the window. Bruce found himself returning late at night to your apartment after encounters with criminals, taking in more hits than normal for a proper excuse.
Fate happened. You were a kind stranger, he was injured, and he needed help. Eventually, it remained like that for a while. He’d be in one place, some sort of wound visible, and you’d take him in. His eyes had watched you like a hawk, grunting and squirming away from the slightest of advance on instinct.
Embarrassingly enough, he immediately melted into your gentle touch. You guided him, made him feel what it was like to be openly vulnerable with someone else present. It’s wrong. You’re a civilian, continuously helping Batman would put your life at risk.
He feels guilty about it. You’re too kind for him, never daring to stay close to him than is necessary and choosing to respect his personal space. It was welcomed at first, but he wants more of it, more of you.
The only time he’ll actually touch you is when the pain is incredibly overwhelming his senses, which has him catching your wrist accompanied by a restrained grunt. Like he’d been burned, he’d pull back once reality crashed back down. He can’t, he shouldn’t. He’s putting you in danger.
Damn it all to hell.
Bruce tripped, stumbled, landing right on your lap. How convenient, he thought. He held himself upright, clutching the top of the couch’s backrest in a death grip, eyes wide. Bruce frantically searched your face, analyzing your reaction. “I’m—” He’s cut off when you pull him closer, gasping in surprise.
“It’s okay.” You reassure him, a soft smile gracing your lips and he wants to kiss you senseless. Until you can’t feel your hands, your face, or use that smart brain.
He stays like that, straddling your hips as you clean the wound on his side. It’s taking everything in him for his thoughts not to drift towards sinful ideas, borderline unprofessional.
He can’t help it.
Every touch, even an accidental brush on his skin has his breath hitching, anticipation thrumming in his veins. Heat pools deep within him, leaving him aching. He hopes you don’t notice, pants tightening and he’s almost painfully hard.
You do. Of course, you do. Right when you finish patching him up, earning a few pained groans, you halt him from standing up and leaving. “Batman.”
Oh fuck. Bruce is doomed. He wants to sink into the floor, or maybe the wall would be better. You know how he truly feels about the situation, and this is the last time he’ll ever see you. Panic rises, but he doesn’t allow it to outwardly show. His palms suddenly become all clammy, sweat dotting his forehead—
“May I?” Damn you.
Your hand settled on his muscled thigh and he has to suppress a shiver. Your fingers inched closer to where he needed you the most, just a little bit higher. But then you stop. Bruce whines.
“Please,” Batman didn’t beg, never did. “Please, I-I need it.”
He panted, excitement delivering a spark of heat that rushed straight to his core. His arms surrounded your shoulders, trapping you in his hold as he leaned down to your neck to hide in shame. He assists you in pulling down his suit enough to expose his glistening cock, pre-cum oozing from his slit.
Bruce felt like a wreck, lips in a tight line to prevent any embarrassing sounds from leaving his throat. Your thumb swiped across the cockhead, pressing down with enough pressure to force out a choked gasp from him.
“Don’t hold back,” You whisper directly into his red-tinted ear. He felt his hole clench around nothing, your words making him light-headed and he involuntarily bucks his hips against your touch. “I’ve got you, c’mon. Let me hear you.”
His breath stutters when you begin to gently trace the angry veins, moaning softly as he pulsates in your grasp. It’s been too long since he’s had someone—anyone—to touch him intimately, but never like you are now.
Your fingers wrap around his cock, slicking up your palm. It’s a slow pace, guiding him to a gradual orgasm. Gods, fuck, why were you being like this? He’s uncertain whether he enjoys how you’re treating him as though he’s made of glass that could shatter any unforgiving moment or if he should beg for you to fuck him rougher, make him go all dumb and drunk off the feeling of you.
He desperately ruts against you, it was selfish but the both of you knew he needed it. “Mmm.. fuck, I–” He gasps when you jerk him off a bit quicker, coming up to tease the underside of his tip every single time. Throbbing at the increased pace, he felt his eyes roll back into his skull. “more, ah ah mngh, more please.”
Bruce knew his manners, with his skin absolutely flushed and mind consumed with lust and greed to taste and take. “Yeah? Keep talking for me.” You urged, twisting your wrist as his pre-cum lathed up your hand, producing so much he seems like he’s right there. “Feels so g–good.” He whimpers, thighs trembling as his knees were beginning to fail on him.
Your too-good praise didn’t help him, at all. He felt young all over again, horny and wanting. “Beautiful,” you whisper, “need me to help you, don’t you, B?” The air gets knocked out of him, leaving him panting. He can barely feel his brain, all sensations leading to your hand pumping his wet cock.
“Need you,” He didn’t care how pathetic he seemed in this state, all he knew how desperate he was for you with your slick palm teasing his tip, rubbing in little quick circles. “ngh, so bad...”
Bruce Wayne knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, but he wants you to stay with him. He could protect and provide for you. Who else would you want to be with besides him? That’s right. No one.
Gotham's big, bad protector, a whining mess for you in the early hours of the morning.
Not at night. Oh no, he has to protect the city. And in the morning? There's work to be done, press appearances and what not.
So he makes time for you in the early hours of the day. Fresh from a shower he insisted he take before you touch him. I think he would whine pathetically in that gruff voice of his.
"Shit. Baby..ugh how do you clench around me so tight?" he would ask, a panting mess while you ride him. Your hands on his broad chest while you suckle on his neck.
And as soon as he cums? I bet he's already flipping you over, eating himself out of you. Do you think Batman, the guy who fights crime all night, would really get pissy over a little cum?
And if anything, it's his cum, so no, he won't be satisfied till you fall asleep.
And when you wake up at a decent time of day, your favorite breakfast is on the counter alone with a "Love you. See you tonight." note on the counter.
(This is my unhinged take. Let that be a warning to you) :
That no. One. Made a fic where batman's a little weirdo watching recordings of reader. And rewatching recordings he did of reader. And memorizing every little detail. And then he runs into them as Bruce and he feels so much guilt and shame that he can't say anything to her. And she's like ??? But inside, she's like he's so cute and shy. What a sweetie.
But obsessive bruce wayne. No one thought that??? Plus. Cough sub batman cough.
Like you're gonna tell me Mr. Vengeance over there hasn't used the camera contact lens for something naughty at least once. He's probably got secret recordings he hides from alfred and watches on his own time.
Plus that mans gotta let off some steam somehow. Being in control all the time is cool, but what if he needs someone to take care of him.
Plus that vial of gas or whatever he took. Imagine the things he could do with that aggression in bed. The possibilities are endless.
Back onto sub batman tho. Like a whimpering mess of a bat sounds kinda nice. Throw some whining in there. Swoon the once completely in control batman not in control anymore swoon
Plus weirdo bruce wayne. A little odd bruce wayne. I need more of that. Not suave and cool bruce that's for later when he's got everything down this is early batman we're talking about. That man is a weirdo and off-putting. I love him so much.
