happy birthday bruce!

  • Clark: I have no idea what to get Bruce for his birthday. What do I get for a man who has everything?
  • Selina: Bruce will appreciate whatever you give him, Clark. He's your best friend.
  • Clark: You say that, but that's not what he tells me. Give me a hint, Selina. What did you give Bruce last year?
  • Selina: I don't think you want to know, Clark. You wouldn't understand. It has to do with sex.
  • Clark: ...I'll buy him some more books.
Happy Birthday

Bruce Wayne x Reader

dedicated to the birthday girl @phoenixejean because it’s still your birthday over here in seattle :-) enjoy love!

You had told Bruce weeks in advance, that you didn’t want anything for your birthday from him, but when has he ever listened to you?

You’re pretty sure you were quite clear on what you wanted from him: a nice bottle of wine, and good old fashioned birthday sex. But get real, this is Bruce Wayne you’re dealing with - and he settles for nothing less than perfect.

Bruce had to work in the morning, but he still made it clear that he was going to do what he liked. So when your doorbell rung and you were greeted with a giant bouquet of roses and a box with a designer brand on the lid, you were so close to calling him and telling him off, that was until you read the note attached to the flowers.

Don’t argue. Put on the dress and shoes and I’ll pick you up at 7. Have a great day, sweetheart. -Bruce

You’re not going to lie, the dress and shoes are goddamn beautiful and make you feel like one of those high class, fancy ladies you always see at galas that you accompany Bruce to. (He would argue with you on that. You always look beautiful to him.)

Bruce is prompt, so he was at your door by the designated time. He’s always good about dodging paparazzi and coordinating with the restaurant, that you don’t really have to worry about nosy strangers photographing you.

Dinner is nice and goes smoothly, and you were surprised that he didn’t pull out any other gifts. You did, however, laugh when he asked the waiter for the best wine they offered. (Which was an astounding 300$!)

Now, Bruce digs out his wallet from his pocket, and slides his credit card in the folder, handing it off to the waiter.

“Thank you so much, Bruce,” You smile appreciatively, reaching out to grasp his hand in yours. His thumb instinctively rubs circles on your hand, sending a wave of adoration through you. “I really do appreciate it, even if I told you I didn’t want anything big.”

Bruce just shakes his head and looks down at the table, moving back up to meet your gaze, with his slanted little smile on his face.

“You deserve to have a good birthday. You’re always working and putting up with me, and you never stop to breathe.” He explains, bringing your knuckles up to kiss them.

“I could say the same for you, you know.” You quip, raising a brow.

“Yeah, you could. But you’re more important.”

Before you can question him,  the waiter comes back with Bruce’s credit card, and he slips it back in his wallet. Bruce stands to help you out of your chair, offering his arm to you. You’re quick to accept, and snuggle into his side as you take your leave from the restaurant.

The ride back is filled with the soft music from the radio and comfortable silence. Bruce’s hand rests on your upper thigh, and you idly play with his fingers. When you arrive at the mansion, Bruce is swift and opens up the car door for you.

When you get inside, Alfred is sitting in the kitchen with his nightly cup of coffee, and stands with  a smile when he sees you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and kisses your cheek, earning a laugh from both you and Bruce.

“Happy birthday darling.” Alfred says happily, pulling back to take a good look at you. He squints his eyes in fake shock, moving in close to examine your hair. “My god, is that- is that a grey hair?!”

“You’re a jackass, Pennyworth!” You wack his chest, as Bruce chuckles behind you.

“Alright, alright,” Bruce interjects, lacing his hand with yours, already leading you to his room. “Goodnight, Alfred.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Is all you hear, before you’re in Bruce’s room, his door shut. You immediately fall onto his plush bed, laughter tearing through your body.

You barely register that your dress has hiked up quite a bit, prompting Bruce to lean over you. His breath fans against your neck as he laughs with you, pressing kisses to the juncture of your neck. Your fingers card through his hair gently, as he moves to litter more kisses to your collarbones.

Your laughter quickly turns to breathless, helpless moans as his mouth works on you, leaving hickies that blossom like flowers on your torso. When you think he’s going to peel off your dress, you’re proven wrong. He just shifts down the bed, pressing small kisses to the tops of your thighs. Your breath catches in your throat when you think he’s going to kiss you through your panties, but instead, he just moves his lips to your knee, pressing a kiss there.

“C’mon, Bruce.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Patience, sweetheart.” Bruce looks up from where he is with a smirk, as you sigh in slight frustration.

He continues to press kisses to your legs, leaning back to rest his weight on his heels. Bruce then takes your ankle in his hand, and unclasps the strap from your heels. He drops the heel on the floor with a thud, and kisses back up your leg. And because he’s Bruce, he gives you the same treatment to your other leg, leaving you a writhing mess by the time he’s finished.

He ducks down to kiss you, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. It barely even registers that one of his hands has traveled between your bodies, until they push aside your panties. You let out an absolutely wrecked whine as his fingers drag themselves up your cunt, moving to rub slick circles on your clit. Your stomach immediately bursts with butterflies, already feeling your orgasm creeping up on you. (That’s one of the things Bruce loves about you. He can make you fall apart so easily.)

But before you can give in to that release, Bruce pulls back. You’re about to whine and plead and beg for him to let you cum, but after all, it is your birthday, and this- this is apart of your gift.

He’s swift as he pulls your panties off of you, moving to hike your legs atop his shoulders. His fingers sink themselves back into you, and his mouth seals around your clit. The gasp that you let out is so helpless and filled with lust, that it only spurs Bruce on more. He doesn’t tease, he doesn’t edge, like he normally does - no, he gives it to you: he gives it to you, like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to touch you like this.

It doesn’t take long for you to cum in his mouth, and the second you do, he softens his licks and slows his fingers, helping you come down from your orgasm. Your chest heaves up and down as you catch your breath, idly carding your fingers through his hair.

He presses a kiss underneath your navel, before coming to rest on top of you, ducking down to kiss you properly.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”