warm enough outside, inside me

batgirl (comics), cass cain/brenda miller

date posted: 2024-02-25

summary: Brenda takes Cass places.

word count: 1,623 words

content warnings: warning for explicit sex (hook up at a party in a bathroom).

notes: written for [personal profile] elasticella's fresh femslash salad bar event - specifically for the prompt/salad "evening, sza (drew barrymore)" on my table.


"Have you done this before?" Brenda breathes against her lips, and Cass relishes the feeling as she leans her head back, as Brenda's hand sneaks up to her shoulder, then her face, her thumb brushing over Cass' cheek.

Brenda looks at her so kindly, like she's appreciating everything about her, like Cass deserves it. The look in her eyes is painfully familiar, and it stabs at Cass' chest.

"No," Cass says, but then, she thinks again, and– "wait, kind of," as she remembers her again, those stolen moments on rooftops between her and Stephanie, and it hurts to think about, and she hopes Brenda doesn't notice her biting her tongue, and if she does, she hopes Brenda thinks it's for a different reason.

Brenda has this look in her eye - it's kind, warm, but almost… smug. Cass feels Brenda's thumb brushing up against her lips, and she leans into the touch, and realizes her mouth has opened a little, and Brenda takes the opportuniity to slip her thumb into Cass' mouth.

"That's ok," Brenda says breathlessly, like she's fascinated, like Cass is something special, "I'll help you," she says, and slides her thumb against Cass' tongue, her hips swaying against hers.

Cass' head tilts back further, sliding down a little against the wall, and Brenda's thumb follows, as Cass feels her other hand dip below her torso, snaking around her hips, down her thigh, then the crease of her leg.

Cass can't control her breathing. Everything feels so hot, just like it did those times with Stephanie, and Stephanie had laughed when she mentioned it those times, telling her it was normal to feel that way, with her lips on her neck.

Cass scrunches her eyes shut as Brenda's thumb slips out of her mouth, moving down her chest.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice shaking.

Brenda's hands still where they are. "What's wrong?" she says, so kind, as if Cass deserves it.

"I'm… I…" Cass begins, then realizes what she's about to say, and bites her tongue again. There's no way that wouldn't hurt Brenda.

"I'm not used to this," Cass bites out, and it's only half a lie. She opens her eyes and sees Brenda looking back at her, part worried, part… excited? No, that’s the wrong word, Cass thinks. Brenda is worried and… interested.

Cass knows how mysterious she’s kept herself; she’s done it on purpose, to hide herself, who she really is: vigilante, fighter, survivor, or murderer – to Cass, it’s all of the above. To Brenda, she’s just an enigma of a girl with the same tea order every day, who shows up to her parties wearing the same ripped denim she impulsively tore in the bathroom, confused and wanting to be good and wanting to belong.

Nothing is out of the order today, as she and Brenda are together in the bathroom, music roaring outside the door, excited chatter and glasses clinking together and whoops and woos outside as the music thumps – Cass can hear all of it, as the heat overwhelms her, as the anxiety overwhelms her, as thoughts of her make everything harder for Cass, who came here for a good time, who came here for Brenda.

She focuses herself back on the present, on Brenda’s hips still swaying against her, but gentler, slower this time. Brenda’s hands have started moving again, but slower, and her other hand is still against her leg.

Brenda has the same look in her eye, but Cass focuses on the choker she has on, the piercings all over her face, her short, cropped hair and her low cut strap shirt, that Cass’ gaze is almost always attracted to, shamefully. Her eyes slide down Brenda, sees her hips moving on her, tight in her skinny jeans, and she tries to push the thoughts out of her head, the insecurities, the baggage, especially, as she forces herself to relax, part of her going willingly, and blinks up at Brenda.

“Keep going,” Cass says, and Brenda cracks a smile at her.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she says, as the hand between her legs moves again, cupping under her short skirt.

“You look so cute, you know that?” Brenda says, her face against her neck, hot breath against Cass, “the skirt and denim think you got goin’ on, and the nerves, it’s cute,” she says. It makes Cass blush, embarassingly, but she doesn’t hate it – it’s almost a thrill, she thinks. No, it is a thrill, she realizes, as Brenda’s hand carefully pulls down her underwear, which is all wet and sticky now (the way it felt with Stephanie on those rooftops, right?).

Cass hears herself squeak as Brenda’s fingers slide against something down there, and then she hears Brenda chuckle.

“Huh,” she says lightly, “you’re really new to this.” Her fingers stroke there, and a moan slips out of Cass. She doesn’t know how to respond, just leans into Brenda’s touch more, her hips rolling back into her touch, one of her free hands sliding down Brenda’s chest, her fingers half hooking into her cleavage, and it excites Cass.

She hears the music’s bass against her heartbeat, which is beating faster than the drums can keep up with. Briefly, Cass wonders if they’ll be caught, even with the door locked, how Cass watched Brenda quickly twist the knob, going from green to red, open to closed, go to stop.

Brenda’s voice brings her back to the present. “Eager, are we?” she says, smirking, her fingers crooking against Cass, and Cass sees her lean forward, into Cass’ touch against her chest, and that pushes Cass to keep touching there, to slide her hand into her low cut shirt, her fingers against Brenda’s nipple.

“Right there, just like that,” Brenda says, “you can do it,” and at this point, Cass doesn’t know if Brenda’s talking about the hand down her shirt or her hand between Cass’ legs.

More moans slip out of Cass, and she feels herself getting wetter the more Brenda touches that spot, so sweet, Brenda’s fingers sliding against her easier, and then they’re moving down, prompting Cass to spread her legs more.

“Is it ok if I–“

Yes,” Cass says impulsively, wanting more and more of what Brenda has to offer, without even knowing what she’s about to do. Brenda’s head tilts back to look at Cass, and she’s smirking, all knowing, and Cass wants to know what Brenda’s teaching her, savors every moment.

“Eager,” Brenda repeats, breathless, like she’s in love with everything about Cass, and Cass embraces the feeling, of being appreciated like this, Brenda giving her what she wants, even if she doesn’t know what she wants.

That’s ok, she realizes. Brenda’s showing her.

Cass’ legs slide open more, but Brenda grips her shoulder, stilling her movements. She has a surprisingly strong grip; not stronger than Cass’, never, but Cass finds herself loving the feeling, being held this way.

“Wait a moment,” Brenda says, “let’s get a little more comfortable,” and her hand snakes out from between Cass’ legs, and Cass whines, and it sounds so pathetic, so wanting. Brenda chuckles.

“It’s ok,” she says, pulling Cass forward, and Cass goes with her. Brenda kneels down, which briefly excites Cass for reasons she doesn’t know, but she finds herself moving with Brenda, and Brenda pushes her to the floor. Cass’ head briefly, awkwardly hits against the toilet, but Brenda doesn’t mind, just pushes her forward and away from it.

“Please,” Cass says as she leans against the floor, spreads her legs open again. She sees Brenda between them, smiling, determined.

“It’s ok,” Brenda says, teasing, “let me take care of you,” and something in Cass flares up at that, hot and wanting. She only realizes after the fact that she moaned at Brenda’s words, almost like a whine, like before, and Brenda didn’t react, she moved, her fingers up between Cass’ legs again. The tile was cold against her back, but Cass was sweating through it, her whole body warm, almost feverish.

She feels Brenda’s finger probing against something, then pushing forward, inside her, and Cass moans, and it’s embarrassing but she wants more, needs more, as Brenda’s finger thrusts inside her.

“Just like that,” Brenda says, “so good for me,” her finger moving inside her, slick and swift, and Cass can’t talk, and for once, she’s ok with it, being wordless, speechless, her head against the floor now, staring at the ceiling, dazed and so hot.

Her legs open wider, and she feels one finger brush up against that spot again, and she jolts, her legs spasming, and Brenda seizes the opportunity to slip another finger inside her. Cass feels like she’s going to burst, in the best possible way.

Cass’ breaths come out quick, panting, her eyes closing as Brenda has one finger stroking that spot and two fingers in her, and something swells up inside her, creeping up slowly, and it excites Cass, until she doesn’t think anymore, just feels, and that something snaps, explodes, white-hot and blossoming within her.

Cass’ moans come out faster as she rides out her orgasm, Brenda rubbing that spot and thrusting her fingers in her faster.

Eventually, Cass’ hips slow, and so does Brenda’s hand, and Cass can see clearer, tilting her head up to meet Brenda’s gaze, weak and slowed down but still excited, still warm.

“Let me,” Cass says.

Brenda looks reluctant. “Are you sure? I mean, I know you’re new at this, I’m happy just like this–“

“No,” Cass says, determined, pushing herself up by her elbows, “I want to.”

Brenda cracks a smile at her. “Whatever you say, mystery girl,” as Cass leans up and puts her hand to Brenda’s chest, pushing her down.