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Her Favorite Prey
Title: Her Favorite Prey
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Batman
Character/Pairing: Bats/Cats
Rating: R/M
Prompt: For a prompt![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leni_ba left at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic: any - any - claws
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 939
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to DC Comics, not the author, and are used without permission.
Her claws dig deep into the wooden base of the billboard. Her back arches as she digs even deeper. She watches her claws as they glisten in the glow of the city's night lights and shred the base as though it was nothing more than mere paper. A cat always has to keep her claws in top shape, and although there are other ways Selina could sharpen claws, for right now, this is the scratching post she prefers.
A deep voice clears behind her. "Oh, give me a break," she purrs, arching again and showing off the curves of her body in its top shape clad in her skin tight, black costume. She scratches the base again, this time bringing her claws down from its top all the way to the very bottom. "A kitty's gotta have some fun."
When no retort comes, she turns in surprise. Her eyes lock with his, and slowly, like a hungry cat just catching her first glimpse of a rat, she smiles. She prowls over to him, enjoying the way his eyes devour her body. She runs the fingers of one gloved hand over his chiseled cheek while draping her other arm over his left shoulder and toying with the back of his cowl with the claws she just sharpened. Her body rubs invitingly against his. "Does the big, bad Bat want to have some find tonight, too?" she purrs, making each syllable more seductive than the last.
He doesn't speak. He doesn't have to. Their eyes have been dueling since she first turned around that night. His hard eyes speak two stories: He knows he should be out on patrol, but now that he's found her on his patrol, he doesn't really want to go any further. And she'll be damned if she lets him slip out of her claws easily, tonight or any night.
She leans closer against him until he can feel every inch of her body through the costumes. Only then does her lips touch his. Her claws embed in the leather of his cowl, reaching just deep enough that she can feel his hair but not actually scratch him. Her tongue plows into his mouth, but his is ready and greets her entry with equal demand.
She arches into him, one long leg kicking out and wrapping around his. She lets him back her against the nearest wall, but she is still the cat with the mouse in her claws. Neither of them have any doubt of that. After all, she is exactly where she wants to be whereas he still knows he should be elsewhere, doing better things, but doesn't have the will power to leave her yet this night.
She leaves scratches on his uniform as he takes her tonight. Their passion is as wild and unbridled as ever. They start against the wall, then slide down to the roof of the building. She rips his cape as he fills her.
In the morning, Bruce knows he will stumble out of the Batmobile into the cave. Alfred and Robin will look at him in concern. He will mutter something about a fight, but the assailant will have gotten away. She always gets away from him in the end, but for now, he holds her close, his hands cupping her butt as she squeezes him hard, taking every last drop he can give her. His moans are only silenced by her tongue.
He knows he's a mouse caught in her trap. He knows he can't break free. Worst of all is that he doesn't want to. He wants to take her not just tonight but every night, every day too. He wants her to be beside him always. He wants her to wear his ring. But he knows she will never give up her wild ways just as he can not, at least for long, stop being a hero.
Still, they have tonight, and he plans to make every second count. He rolls her over onto her back, tearing off the last bits of their costume. He doesn't care that he'll go home almost naked. He doesn't care that he'll have to explain again what happened to his costume. (He really should start keeping a spare in the Batmobile, but that would prompt Robin to ask even more questions than he already does.) He doesn't even truly care about all the reasons why this is wrong and they shouldn't be doing this.
He cares only about her and how much he yearns for her every second of his life to make him whole. He knows she's making certain to mark him tonight, and he is glad of it. The scratches she gives him will last far longer than the feeling of warmth, love, and completion she's giving him now. They'll burn when he bathes again, but he doesn't care. He looks forward to the burn, looks forward to seeing his scratches reflected in his mirrors. He looks forward always to wearing her marks for it is just further proof that she is his Cat and he her Bat, or even mouse.
He pushes her harder against the roof. She slashes him deeper, drawing blood this time. He smiles against her mouth and shoves himself deeper into her, both tongue and steed, aching to be whole with her as tightly and as long as Gotham will give them. He knows he'll have to leave soon, but for her, he'll do anything, be anything, but refrain from the hero he always is. He arches against her claws and kisses her deeper still, vowing silently to always gladly be her favorite prey.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Batman
Character/Pairing: Bats/Cats
Rating: R/M
Prompt: For a prompt
leni_ba left at comment_fic: any - any - clawsWarning(s): None
Word Count: 939
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to DC Comics, not the author, and are used without permission.
Her claws dig deep into the wooden base of the billboard. Her back arches as she digs even deeper. She watches her claws as they glisten in the glow of the city's night lights and shred the base as though it was nothing more than mere paper. A cat always has to keep her claws in top shape, and although there are other ways Selina could sharpen claws, for right now, this is the scratching post she prefers.
A deep voice clears behind her. "Oh, give me a break," she purrs, arching again and showing off the curves of her body in its top shape clad in her skin tight, black costume. She scratches the base again, this time bringing her claws down from its top all the way to the very bottom. "A kitty's gotta have some fun."
When no retort comes, she turns in surprise. Her eyes lock with his, and slowly, like a hungry cat just catching her first glimpse of a rat, she smiles. She prowls over to him, enjoying the way his eyes devour her body. She runs the fingers of one gloved hand over his chiseled cheek while draping her other arm over his left shoulder and toying with the back of his cowl with the claws she just sharpened. Her body rubs invitingly against his. "Does the big, bad Bat want to have some find tonight, too?" she purrs, making each syllable more seductive than the last.
He doesn't speak. He doesn't have to. Their eyes have been dueling since she first turned around that night. His hard eyes speak two stories: He knows he should be out on patrol, but now that he's found her on his patrol, he doesn't really want to go any further. And she'll be damned if she lets him slip out of her claws easily, tonight or any night.
She leans closer against him until he can feel every inch of her body through the costumes. Only then does her lips touch his. Her claws embed in the leather of his cowl, reaching just deep enough that she can feel his hair but not actually scratch him. Her tongue plows into his mouth, but his is ready and greets her entry with equal demand.
She arches into him, one long leg kicking out and wrapping around his. She lets him back her against the nearest wall, but she is still the cat with the mouse in her claws. Neither of them have any doubt of that. After all, she is exactly where she wants to be whereas he still knows he should be elsewhere, doing better things, but doesn't have the will power to leave her yet this night.
She leaves scratches on his uniform as he takes her tonight. Their passion is as wild and unbridled as ever. They start against the wall, then slide down to the roof of the building. She rips his cape as he fills her.
In the morning, Bruce knows he will stumble out of the Batmobile into the cave. Alfred and Robin will look at him in concern. He will mutter something about a fight, but the assailant will have gotten away. She always gets away from him in the end, but for now, he holds her close, his hands cupping her butt as she squeezes him hard, taking every last drop he can give her. His moans are only silenced by her tongue.
He knows he's a mouse caught in her trap. He knows he can't break free. Worst of all is that he doesn't want to. He wants to take her not just tonight but every night, every day too. He wants her to be beside him always. He wants her to wear his ring. But he knows she will never give up her wild ways just as he can not, at least for long, stop being a hero.
Still, they have tonight, and he plans to make every second count. He rolls her over onto her back, tearing off the last bits of their costume. He doesn't care that he'll go home almost naked. He doesn't care that he'll have to explain again what happened to his costume. (He really should start keeping a spare in the Batmobile, but that would prompt Robin to ask even more questions than he already does.) He doesn't even truly care about all the reasons why this is wrong and they shouldn't be doing this.
He cares only about her and how much he yearns for her every second of his life to make him whole. He knows she's making certain to mark him tonight, and he is glad of it. The scratches she gives him will last far longer than the feeling of warmth, love, and completion she's giving him now. They'll burn when he bathes again, but he doesn't care. He looks forward to the burn, looks forward to seeing his scratches reflected in his mirrors. He looks forward always to wearing her marks for it is just further proof that she is his Cat and he her Bat, or even mouse.
He pushes her harder against the roof. She slashes him deeper, drawing blood this time. He smiles against her mouth and shoves himself deeper into her, both tongue and steed, aching to be whole with her as tightly and as long as Gotham will give them. He knows he'll have to leave soon, but for her, he'll do anything, be anything, but refrain from the hero he always is. He arches against her claws and kisses her deeper still, vowing silently to always gladly be her favorite prey.
The End