#bottom bruce wayne

He doesn't even get to make his way to the cave before you manage to intercept him and redirect to his path towards the bedroom. At first he resisted, saying he needed to check some things first to make sure that everything will be fine.

You, on the other hand, weren't having any of that. Coaxing him up the stairs, down the hallway and ushering him inside. The stern look on your face makes any further excuses die on his tongue— he accedes; albeit reluctantly.

"Let's take it easy. I'll take care of you." First were the gauntlets, armor and protective plates, then the boots and last layers of his suit. Piece by piece you helped him out of it until he was nearly bare. You've helped him out before but he tries to not let it become a habit. He can't have himself relying on you too much. What if you saw him for what he was and left?

He wouldn't be able to bear it.

His face tells you more than words could. The crease between his brows and weary downcast gaze. You cradle his face between your palms, thumbs brushing his cheeks as you tip his head enough to look into his eyes. "I can hear those gears turning." He huffs out a laugh, Bruce would give you that. You've always had the knack for breaking him out of his spiraling thoughts, keeping him on his toes and breaking the tension before it fully settles.

After getting him into his sleep attire and fetching him some water, you send him to bed. Tucking him in while disregarding how he says he can do it himself. He's a grown man after all— then again he doesn't let you leave afterwards. His hand reaching out to grasp your wrist loosely. He can't bring himself to let you go or to tell you to stay, he just turns his gaze away as the tips of his ears feel like they're burning.

But you're more than happy to stay, getting under the covers and laying by his side. Keeping your arms around him as you embrace him from behind. It's a nice feeling. The warmth of you against his back and your breath brushing his nape. He turns around, eyes taking in your features intently. You'd think he's trying to commit every detail to memory.

His eyes lingers on your lips— swallowing the urge to lean in and steal a quick kiss. It's almost pitiful how he looks at you. Silently longing, wanting you read his mind so he doesn't have to say it out loud. Fortunately for him you know him well enough to know what he wants most of the time. Softly pressing your lips together as if you have all the time in the world. Savoring the moment while it lasts.

He melts into it. Reciprocating with a bit more force, almost desperate, his hands trialing up to hold on to you. Once the kiss is broken off he presses his forehead against your own. It's tender, the way he gazes at you before placing kisses along your jaw.

It's been a minute since he's indulged like this. Bruce hardly relies on you since he doesn't wish to burden you, just like how you keep the majority of your problems to yourself. But right now all he wants is your touch, your hands, all of you which he can get ahold of right now.

You oblige of course, mapping out every curve, dip and line of his body as he sinks further into the mattress. His breath hitches when you add your mouth to the mix. Pressing light kisses to the scars on his skin with such reverence.

He's too caught up with how your mouth feels on his skin to notice your hand is sliding beneath his waistband and into his boxers. He leans into your palm, throbbing with need. His hips moving of their own accord as you stroke him and he groans into your ear, clutching tightly at your shirt.

He looks so pretty when he soaks his clothes through, warmth spreading onto your fingers as you keep pumping him until his orgasm ebbs away. His eyes are glossy as if in a daze, lips parted as he pants and grouses. It's been much too long since he's he's felt your touch like this.

He's deprived himself from such liberties. His duty to protect his city taking priority, overshadowing his free time that isn't spent at Wayne enterprise. And you're quick to keep him from waiting any longer. Shutting up his twining as you use his cum to circle his rim, gently pressing a finger in until it gives.

He's sensitive enough as is— clenching down on your finger as you work him open. Eagerly accepting a second when you slip it in and start to curl them, pressing in at just the right spots that have his head pressing into your shoulder. Quiet groans reach your ears mixed with panting breaths.

"That's enough," he all but whines in a lackluster attempt to sound stern. He's had enough of your teasing. The need in him welling up and making his mind grow cloudier. Pushing you onto your back and straddling your hips, catching you briefly by surprise as he grinds down on you. It isn't nearly enough but he settles for what he can get— that is until he frees you of your briefs.

You must've been wrong to think he would stay put and wait for you to finish with your teasing. He might have had a long night patrol but he never claimed to be tired. Everything you've done so far has only riled him up. Fed that ever growing want and need for you that he's sinking down lecherously on your cock. Bruce doesn't even wait for you, rolling and undulating his hips the moment he catches his breath.

"Missed this– missed you." He braces his hands on your thighs as he rides you. Pushing through the bliss as his thighs quake and eyes fall shut. Then he sucks in a harsh breath, you wrapped your hand on his weeping cock once again. It had been bobbing between your bodies so mesmerizingly and you just wanted to make him feel like he's walking on air.

Any moment he can get to be close to you is sublime. It doesn't matter if it's domestic in nature or carnal. The air in his lungs gets punched out, his spine meeting the silk sheets with the back of his thighs against your palms. Your strength never ceases to amaze him (or turn him on). Rutting into him at the perfect angle and nailing his prostate with each and every thrust.

You wring out another orgasm out of him. His cock jumping and spurting cum on his stomach and chest but you don't stop or slow down. It would be too convenient for him if you did. Instead, he's left to grasp what little decency he has left in order to not moan so loud. Nearly whimpering from the sheer overstimulation you're subjecting him to.

He's been squeezing your cock so favorably it's a miracle you've lasted this long. Your hips stuttering and pumping him with your cum. The obscene squelch of it getting pushed deeper makes his cock twitch against his stomach. Shallowly thrusting into him as the blissful high lessens enough for you to gather your bearings.

"What a mess," guess you'll have to clean him up when he dozes off completely and it seems like he's almost there. Eyes hooded and heavy with his cum-streaked chest gradually rising and falling at a steady tempo. You wore him out and practically fucked him to sleep. At least now he'll catch some shut eye before the sun fully rises.