A Nightly Affair: (S) Nightwing keeps mistaking your apartment for his and you two grow very close. Very. Close. So close as to put you in danger, unless Nightwing can find you first. [Series Masterlist]
The Kissing Thief: (S) Y/N gets fed up with Dick Grayson hiding mistletoe all over the manor, and suggests an alternate activity. The ‘alternate activity’ continues all year. No plot, just smut and fluff. [Series Masterlist]
A mission demands the public appearance of Bruce Wayne and yourself at a theater. The mission is quickly put to rest, which leaves you plenty of time to appreciate your husband during intermission.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader (Y/N)
Warning: SMUT, public smut, Mr./Mrs. Kink (Is that a thing, or is it just my favorite cute trope? Either way, it’s here.)
Word Count: ~1300
Note: My first Batman smut! It was fun using the different layers between Bruce and Batman and the man in-between that loves the reader. I highly recommend looking up Lysistrata; it’s a Greek comedy with humor that still translates. You can find a good online English translation here. Please let me know if you enjoyed it with likes, comments, and reblogs. If you have any ideas for another Bruce fic, send it to me! I love challenges. And my tag lists are open. Please enjoy!
“Here are your seats, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne.” The usher pulled back the curtain in the private box to reveal two seats.
“Thank you, Robert. We’ll see you after the final curtain.” Bruce slipped the usher a tip and sat next to you.
“What’s the point of box seats, again? We can’t see half the stage?” You restrained yourself from leaning over the railing like an eager child.
“Wayne industries helped produce the show, and they want to show us off. We can come again and sit like peasants if you’d like.” Bruce’s face cracked into a grin. A real one. Not the variety that made appearances when the former playboy would make trouble.
“And Wayne industries funded a production of Lysistrata because…”
“It amuses Bruce Wayne.” He chuckled again as you shot eyebrows at him again. “The acting troupe is riddled with Music Meister’s henchmen working as techies.” Bruce tapped his earpiece and dropped his voice, “Nightwing?”
“Loud and clear. We’re in position,” you heard on your matching com.
“Good. Let me know if the missus and I have to leave early.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Bruce took your hand as the lights flickered in the theater signaling the show was about to start. He set his public face as the lights faded out completely and the curtain parted.
Nightwing continued to check in during the first act. Even with the mission going on, you found yourself being pulled into the mission of the women in the comedic play. They all agreed to deny their husbands sex until the war between the Athenians and the Trojans was stopped. Women on both sides took the oath, much to the chagrin of the soldiers. Not half a bad idea. You found yourself laughing honestly; Bruce was doing the same. The audience broke into applause and laughter as the curtains closed on the first act. You and Bruce left the front of the box and paced the private lounge area behind the curtain.
Over the coms, you listened to the mission end as Nightwing and Damian fought off the henchmen. Meister wasn’t there, but they soon found his speakers in a back-stage storage room.
“Good job, everyone. Call me if anything happens after the police collect the Meister minions.”
“A ‘good-job’ and alliteration?” Nightwing whistled. “This play has put you in a very good mood.”
“Yes. Over and out.” Bruce tugged the com out of his ear and turned it off before dropping it his pocket. You followed suit, confused.
“Bruce?” You gasped as he pinned you to the wall. “What are you doing?”
“I’m preparing to fuck my wife,” he whispered in your ear. His hands were tight around your waist. You knew he could feel you shiver.
You licked your lips. “Oh? What gave you that idea? Surely not the play.”
“Yes, the damned play. It is humorous, but what is really getting to me is seeing you laugh for the first time in months.”
“We’ve been busy.”
Bruce’s hand dipped down to the slit in your dress, lightly running a finger over your exposed skin. “I know. Late nights where one or both of us is out doing what we do. Early mornings for our public roles.”
“Not much time for each other,” you sighed, catching on. The heat thrumming through your body started to collect between your thighs. It began to leak into your panties as Bruce hummed deeply in agreement.
“I hope you won’t make me wait ‘till all crime in Gotham is over to let me fuck you.” His eyes bored into yours. His chest caught the swell of your heightened breathing. You could never hide your tells with him. Never wanted too. “So tell me, Mrs. Wayne… how long are you going to make me wait?”
“About three seconds.”
All the women in Greece and Troy would never have been able to turn down a man like Bruce.
His fingers wove into your hair as he guided your lips to meet his. Before long, you were parting your lips for his tongue, humming in pleasure. Bruce’s hand on your thigh continued to work up under your gown. You shuddered as he grazed over your soaked panties. He kept kissing you, keeping your sounds muffled, while he dipped under the band and inserted a finger into your ready sex. He moved your skirt out of the way, baring the sight of his hand pumping in an out of you into the open. He chuckled, rightfully proud of himself.
But two could play at that game.
You reached out and lightly ran your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. Bruce groaned into your mouth, chuckling to match your smile.
“Y/N, you have no idea how much I love you.”
“Actually, I think I have a big idea how much you love me.” You unbuckled his pants and tugged the zipper down as slowly as you could muster. Bruce growled, then whimpered as you worked your hand over his length still covered in his boxers. “If you want it, Mr. Wayne,” you breathed into his ear while easing out his manhood, “you might want to hurry before intermission ends.”
A squeak escaped your lips as Bruce lifted you settle on his hips. He moved your panties to one side and toyed the tip at your slit, eyes glittering as you stifled a whimper. You covered your mouth to silence the impending scream when he winked. Your hand was barely enough to cover up the swell of sensations as he sheathed himself in you in one thrust. You shuddered and trembled as your walls gripped him tight. Bruce rested his forehead on yours until you nodded, then began to roll his hips. If there had been more time, endless time, he would have kept this pace till you were begging for him. Instead, he began to thrust faster and harder. You knew the curtain into the house of the theater was too thin to muffle all of your cries and moans.
You didn’t care.
Spots danced in front of your eyes as Bruce twisted in just the right way to find your perfect place. He sucked down on your pulse point, heightening every pulse of pleasure. Your nails raked down the back of his suit jacket, feeling the bullet-proof vest hidden beneath his layers. His hands gripped your thighs, careful not to cut himself on the knives you always kept strapped there. His thumb grazed the band strapping the blade to your thigh.
“My dangerous beauty,” Bruce rasped. His pace began to falter. “Mine.”
Your head lolled to one side as your orgasm came crashing down. Careful of your heels, you dug your feet into the small of Bruce’s back, drawing him impossibly further into you for his release. He came silently besides panting heavily, steadying himself on the wall. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly as he gave one last thrust.
The following kiss was sloppy, openmouthed, exhausted in the best way. Bruce pulled out carefully and steadied you till you could trust your legs to mostly support your weight.
You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. “Are you ready to see if the Greeks and Trojans ever got laid again, Mr. Wayne?”
“Yes.” He did that annoying thing where he fixed his sex-hair by running his finger through it. “Are you, Mrs. Wayne?”
“Yes.” You parted the curtain once the two of you were presentable as if nothing had happened. Coms were back online and in place by the time he guided you to your seat. You swallowed a smile as Bruce ran his hands down your shoulders. “Please silence your cell phones and please keep your hands to yourself,” you teased.
“No promises.”
The rest of the play was just as fantastic as the first act, and it inspired much more action once Bruce got you back to the manor. You might have to start asking for more such outings more often.
[If you’re interested in a more modern rendition of Lysistrata, there’s a fantastic movie on Amazon Prime entitled Chi-Raq. It’s set in modern Chicago and uses recent events in place of the ancient war. I highly recommend it. There is language and some nudity, not to mention high levels of sexual innuendo. Do not watch with anyone under the age of 18! I also love that they keep the idea of Greek plays being in verse by updating it to include rap. Check it out if you get the chance!]
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