summary : Bruce is trying so hard to focus on this mission report.. but you just can’t help yourself.
MASTERLIST ◞ DC MASTERLIST
The Batcave was quiet after the mission.
The only sounds were the low hum of the computers, the distant drip of water from the underground lake, and the steady scratch of Bruce’s pen against paper as he wrote the mission report at his desk.
You stood a few feet away, still in your tactical suit, the black material clinging to your body like a second skin. The adrenaline from the night was fading, leaving behind a warm, restless buzz under your skin. You watched Bruce for a moment — jaw tight, shoulders tense, eyes focused on the page like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
He looked good like this. Focused. In control.
You wanted to ruin it.
You stepped closer, boots soft on the stone floor. Bruce didn’t look up, but you saw the slight shift in his posture — the way his pen paused for half a second.
“Long night,” you said casually, reaching for the zipper at the front of your suit. “I’m dying to get out of this thing.”
Bruce’s pen scratched a little harder against the paper. “Shower’s free. You can change in the locker room.”
You smiled, slow and wicked. “But you’re right here. And I want you to watch.”
His hand tightened on the pen. He still didn’t look up, but his breathing changed — just a fraction deeper.
You unzipped the suit slowly, the sound loud in the quiet cave. The fabric parted down your chest, revealing the black sports bra underneath. You shrugged one shoulder out, then the other, letting the material slide down your arms like liquid shadow.
Bruce’s jaw clenched. His eyes stayed fixed on the report, but you could see the way his knuckles whitened around the pen.
“Bruce,” you said softly, stepping out of the boots. “Look at me.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose. Then, slowly, his eyes lifted.
The suit was pooled at your waist now. You pushed it lower, shimmying it over your hips until it slid down your legs and pooled at your feet. You stepped out of it in nothing but your bra and panties, the cool cave air raising goosebumps on your skin.
Bruce’s gaze darkened. His throat worked as he swallowed. The pen had stopped moving entirely.
“You’re supposed to be writing the report,” you teased, turning slowly so he could see all of you. “Don’t let me distract you.”
He made a low, strained sound — almost a growl. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
You walked closer, hips swaying just a little. “Do I?”
You stopped right in front of his desk, close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted. He didn’t. His hands stayed on the desk, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him in his chair.
His eyes raked over you — slow, hungry, reverent. You could see the way his chest rose and fell faster, the faint flush creeping up his neck, the way his pants were suddenly much tighter across the front.
You leaned forward, bracing your hands on the desk, giving him a perfect view down your bra.
“See something you like, Mr. Wayne?” you whispered.
Bruce’s breath hitched. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark with want. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
You smiled, innocent. “I’m just changing. You’re the one who can’t focus on your report.”
He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand over his face. “You’re evil.”
You straightened, turning your back to him. You could feel his eyes on you as you bent down slowly to pick up the discarded suit, giving him a full view of your ass in the thin panties.
When you straightened again, you glanced over your shoulder. Bruce was gripping the desk so hard his knuckles were white. His pants was unmistakably strained.
“Need help with that report?” you asked sweetly, folding the suit over your arm. “Or should I leave you to… handle things?”
He stood up suddenly, chair scraping against the stone. In two strides he was behind you, hands on your waist, pulling your back against his chest. You could feel how hard he was against your lower back.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he growled against your ear, voice rough.
You leaned back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “I know. But you like it.”
His hands tightened on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck, then sucked lightly, leaving a faint mark.
“Bruce,” you breathed, pressing back against him.
He groaned, hips rocking once against you before he forced himself to still. “You’re going to kill me.”
You turned in his arms, pressing your body against his. Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart. “Then let me take care of you first.”
He kissed you — hard, desperate, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your ass. The kiss was messy, hungry, full of all the tension that had been building since you started undressing.
When he pulled back, both of you breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours.
“I have to finish this report,” he said, voice strained. “But the second I’m done…”
You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be waiting. Naked. In your bed.”
Bruce groaned, eyes closing. “Again. You’re going to be the death of me.”
You stepped back, picking up your suit again. “Worth it.”
You walked toward the stairs, hips swaying, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. And when you reached the top, you glanced back.
Bruce was still standing at his desk, hands braced on the wood, head bowed, breathing hard. Which obviously made you smile to yourself.
Mission accomplished.
a/n : based on that one time I stripped infront of Bruce Wayne to distract him from his mission reports am I right.
Batfam (or just Damian) with a Sweet//Soft Al-Ghul Twin! Reader who loves to cuddle! (Can be during naps or in general. :3)
BATFAMILY X SOFT!AL-GHUL!TWIN READER
When the softer twin loves cuddles.
Y/n and Damian were the same in skills.
Personality? No.
You and Damian are like yin and yang. Moon and Sun, the classic duo that everyone overuses when they want to be different from others.
But you are different from Damian.
You’re too soft.
He’s ruthless.
So maybe that’s why he finds himself being cuddled by his twin sibling who seemed not to have a care in the world.
You had a cuddling problem.
Sleeping in general? You’re sitting by someone and cuddling them.
You’re like some kinda kitten just wanting warmth.
Jason was the first one you cuddled close to, making Damian mad cause first of all… you’re his sibling and second of all, YOU’RE HIS SIBLING?!!
So Damian moved Jason out of the way and hugged you. And Damian doesn’t do hugs.
Tim was once playing on his switch when he saw his preteen sibling walking over before cuddling against him. He froze before he kept playing.
Dick was gushing when you cuddled him, he’d been WAITING for his little sibling to cuddle him. He took so many pictures that he put one as his profile picture.
“Oh yeah, that’s my ex-assassin of a little sibling cuddling me after school.”
Bruce was the last person, he saw how you cuddled with the others in your sleep.
He just didn’t expect his small child to be curled upon his lap as he put data in the bat computer.
Bruce just let out a small smile before continuing to type in a report for the latest crimes that happened in Gotham.
you try to call him out once, half-laughing, half-scandalized, like “clark. baby. again?” and he just blinks up at you from where he’s comfortably nuzzled between your tits like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
like he wasn’t just mouthing at your nipple for the past five minutes with the softest, most annoyingly content hum in his throat. like you weren’t fully clothed two seconds ago and he didn’t just part your shirt with two fingers and a single-minded sense of purpose that made your knees weak.
“what?” he mumbles, all doe-eyed and warm-palmed and completely unrepentant.
like you’re the weirdo here.
like it’s not objectively insane how fast he goes from “casual couch cuddle” to “nursing kink.” like he doesn’t seek your chest like it’s a grounding point, something instinctual and compulsive, something built into the wiring of his fucking alien brain.
like he doesn’t suck on you in his sleep sometimes, half-conscious, slow little laps of his tongue and a breathy whine when he wakes up in your arms, face buried in your cleavage like a man starved.
and god help you if you’re actually naked.
god help you if you’re sitting on top of him, hips slow and grinding, and he’s already panting, glassy-eyed, barely holding it together—because the second you lean forward, the second your chest brushes his mouth, the second your nipple even grazes his bottom lip—
he latches.
without shame. without hesitation. wraps an arm around your waist, holds you still, mouth warm and suckling and reverent like he’s been waiting for this, like your tits are oxygen and he’s been drowning without them.
you go limp. every time.
because he’s strong—so fucking strong—but gentle with it, like he knows exactly how fragile you are. how soft. how easy you melt for him.
he groans into your skin. rubs big hands up your spine. kisses the swell of your chest like a prayer.
“my favorite part,” he murmurs.
like that’s normal. like he’s normal.
he’s not. you know this. but it’s hard to argue when he’s making out with your tits like they’re the main course and dessert, when his mouth is warm and sweet and his tongue circles slow, when he sucks just hard enough to make you gasp and mumbles, “good girl,” with a sleepy smile and a grind of his hips like he knows you’re about to soak his dick just from this.
(;¬_¬) Alpha Tendencies - Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Plot: Childhood best friends turn into something more when red kryponite forces out Clark's perverted thoughts
Featuring: Alpha (Smallville) Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Note: Presenting as A/B/O happens around 18 in this AU, not around regular puberty at 14!!!!!!
ALSO! Never watched this series(?) and I know nothing abt DC other than what I've read from fanfiction so pls excuse any continuity issues and such!
Warnings: amab m!reader / FDNI ~ Minors DNI!
Alpha!Clark who's been protective over you since childhood. The two of you had been best friends and 'neighbours' since you two learnt to walk 'n talk! You were the closest house to Clark's farm; still pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but close enough that the brunette would knock on your door every day to get you outside to play together. And even though you two hadn't even presented yet, it was like you both naturally knew to settle into that Alpha-Omega rhythm. Clark would always watch out for you, his blood pressure spiking and his little fangs baring whenever you hurt yourself whilst playing or a stranger approached.
Alpha!Clark who presented as an Alpha and literally couldn't stop thinkin' about you. During his entire first rut, his brain was consumed with thoughts of you. Thoughts of you being such a good omega and helping him with school work, thoughts of him scaring off your bullies who thought you were too flamboyant, thoughts of you beneath him, thoughts of you purring Clark's name into his ear...
It really affected Clark. He felt so full of shame once he'd come to after his rut had ended; he literally couldn't look you in the eye for a week!
Alpha!Clark who had discovered a new side of himself, a side he tried so hard to shove down and keep hidden. A side which would keep Clark up at night unless he jerked off to the thought of you, his innocent, perfect, sexy childhood best friend, in compromising positions and situations with the Alpha. A side to himself which made it so difficult for Clark to concentrate on what you were saying when you're eyes looked so pretty looking up at him, when your scent was making his brain feel fuzzy and his dick ache, oh and especially when your voice saying his name to get his attention sounded so sweet. But the superhuman kept this perverted side of himself bottled up. That was until he received a gift.
Alpha!Clark who couldn't turn down a gift from the Omega he'd been desperate to court since childhood. So, when you presented him with a silver band-like ring, how could he resist putting it on? Though both of you were unaware that the minuscule red gem encrusted into the ring, the one you thought was a plastic rhinestone, was actually one of the last tiny pieces of red kryptonite left on earth (excuse the lack of series knowledge). And you wouldn't find out for a while. After all, it was such a tiny piece that it affected Clark very minutely. Though it slowly but surely picked up speed.
Alpha!Clark who thought he just felt a bit braver recently. Maybe his brain had fully developed. Or perhaps he just stopped thinking about consequences or morals as much, but he was definitely acting differently...
Again, it started off slow and small. An out-of-pocket kinda sexual comment about you that you'd laugh off: "Your lips look good around that popsicle". Then it turned into more open courting; yeah, you and Clark had kind of been courting each other since childhood, but now the Alpha was carrying your bag around all day and giving you gifts every morning. Then came the jealousy; an alpha couldn't get a word in if Clark was around, whether the said alpha be a friend of yours or even sometimes a teacher, Clark would be on them like white on rice; holding back snarls as his arm snakes around your waist, baring his teeth, and making passive-aggressive comments.
Alpha!Clark who was still managing to put up a 'good Alpha' front despite the influence of the kryptonite. But behind closed doors, it was a very different story. The laundry basket in your room had tempted Clark many times, to the point it became routine for him to sneak a pair of your underwear and take it home with him, replacing it with a pair he'd stolen a couple of weeks past, which had lost your scent. Oh, and not to mention the way that any time you would sleep over at his house, share a bed with him, Clark would make sure you were asleep and jerk off until his dick felt like it would fall off. You just looked so fucking perfect and blissful next to (below) him, how could he resist? How could he stop?
Alpha!Clark who had reached his boiling point. It was a hot summer day, and Clark was being made to help out on his parents' farm while school was out. Of course you offered to help him out, and how could he say no? It was getting to a point that Clark could barely go a whole day without seeing you. But you were really doing the opposite of helping him. Sure, you were getting the jobs around the farm done, no complaints there. But you were rendering the young alpha practically inept with the way your skimpy summer clothes were showing off your skin, the way your body was shiny and sweaty from the hot summer air, and holy shit, the way your face was flushed along with your cute pants of exhaustion? Clark could feel the boner in his pants almost tear the seams of his briefs.
Alpha!Clark who finally submitted to the influence of the red kryptonite in his ring, meaning he finally gave into his desires, his basic Alphan needs. You don't even know how it happened, but one second you were moving around some haybales in the Kent's barn, and the next you were sitting atop said haybales with Clark standing between your legs, kissing you feverishly. His scent of mineral musk and small notes of grapefruit was all you could smell, making your head feel fuzzy as you reciprocated the kiss, the kiss from your childhood best friend. Clark, on the other hand, was greedily inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla bean and sandalwood that was leaking from your scent gland; the alpha literally huffing through his nose whilst moulding his lips against yours, you'd think Clark was addicted to your scent.
Alpha!Clark who had his (temporary) fix of your lips and started kissing down your neck, stopping to give your scent gland some attention, and all the way down to the waistline of your shorts. Before it even registered to you, mainly due to the Alpha pheremones weakening your frontal cortex to increase the chance of reproduction, Clark was on his knees below you; his strong, muscular arms holding your thighs up and his chiselled face between your asscheeks. Loud moans and desperate whines echoed throughout the barn and only worked to egg Clark on as he worked his warm, wet tongue into your hole; your gushing slick and his own spit literally flowing down his chin and perfect jawline like some lewd waterfall. Your fingers gripped the Alpha's brown locks with a force that to you felt like a lot, but to the absolute hunk of an Alpha beneath you felt like an adorable attempt. Your toes curled in the air above Clark's head as your thighs shook from the intense pleasure of an Alpha eating you out like he was starved, because after pinning for you for so many years, Clark may as well have been.
Alpha!Clark who felt his heart skip a beat and his inner alpha scream in pleasure when you came on his tongue as you moaned out Clark's name. But the Alpha fell in love with you even more (though that would be literally impossible) when, after basking in the afterglow of your earthshattering orgasm, you offered Clark the same treatment, explaining with an embarrassed blush that you didn't want him to feel left out. That's how you both ended up lying hayloft of Clark's barn; you on top of the muscular alpha in a sixty-nine position, his dick in your mouth and vice versa. To say that Clark had never felt so much pleasure before would be an understatement, 'cause the way you started to gently lap at the Alpha's musky, inhumanely large dick and then transitioned into head sloppier than Clark had seen in porno's? That shit made Clark wanna cum then and there. But don't think that just 'cause the brunnette was almost drunk on pleasure that he wasn't focusing on your pleasure too! No, no, Clark was having to wrap his muscular arms around your hips to keep them still; the top he was giving you was making you leak slick and pre like a tap left runnin'! Seriously though, Clark could fit your entire omegan prick inside his mouth with ease, and the way his tongue would rub your tip whilst his cheeks would hollow was making you see stars.
Alpha!Clark who held off his orgasm, perks of being Kryptonian, unlike you, who shot another load down the Alpha's throat and leaked so much slick that Clark could have drowned. Though Clark was more than happy to hold off his orgasm if it meant he could knot his Omega; yes, his Omega, 'cause at this point, marking and knotting you were formalities to claiming you.
By the time the aftershocks of your second orgasm had quietened down, Clark already had you in another position; kneeling behind you as your chest lay flat on the hayloft, your hips on the other hand, propped up and presenting for your Alpha. Clark gave you the grace of entering you slowly and giving you time to adjust to his ten-inch monster; though from the mewls and moans of pain and pleasure you were letting out, his soft approach barely helped.
Alpha!Clark who rocked your world the moment you gave him the green light. We're talking backshots that could be heard all the way in England; Clark's huge, masculine hands gripping your hips tight enough to move you on and off his cock but gently enough to let you know he cares. Your breathy moans loudly reverberated throughout the barn as Clark knocked the wind out of you with every thrust, and the Alpha's own groans and moans harmonised with yours so nicely. Your scents mixed in the air along with the smell of slick, spit, and sweat; the hot, humid summer air making even the open-plan barn stink of raw sex. The scene looked like it belonged in a VHR porno, and both of you couldn't get enough of it; your Omega keening and purring at the physical and emotional feeling of having an Alpha like Clark want you in this way, and Clark's alpha roaring in pleasure and pride from having his Omega beneath him and drunk on pleasure from his doing.
Alpha!Clark who checked in on you one last time before letting himself go, leaning down, his muscular chest to your arching back, and whispering in your ear 'you doin' good? Mind if I knot you, darling?'. Ugh and when you give the man a forced nod and moan out a 'yes please'? How could Clark help himself? He'd wrapping and arm around your waist and another around head, letting your head rest against his huge bicep as his hips start moving at a speed your body could barely register or handle. All you could remember other than your own lewd sounds and moans was Clark's groaned-out string of perverted, raw, Alphan comments as he knotted you.
"Fuck you're so tight" "So fuckin' good for me- the- NGH- perfect fucking Omega" "AH- Shit-! so wet and warm just for your- your alpha" "Fuck 'm gonna knot you 'n fill you with my pups, darlin' You want that, don't ya?"
That dirty talk, along with the feeling of Clark's thick knot pushing against your rim, was what sent you over the edge for a third time. You saw white, then black, then stars of white again as your vision came back in small spots. Your dick soaked the wood and hay below you with infertile Omegan cum, your breathy moans and whiny pants mixed with Clark's moans and croons as his knot kept him locked inside of you; his thick, warm, scarily fertile cum filling you to the brim. Every unconscious pulse of your walls coaxed and forced another shot of seed out of Clark; a natural push and pull from your inner Omega and Alpha. At the end of the day, no matter how much pleasure you get out of this, the end goal, whether you want it or not, is pups.
Alpha!Clark who would gently rub your hips and the side of your thighs as the intense aftershocks stop. The silence, accompanied by soft panting from both of you, was calming, and the feeling of Clark's hands rubbing your body and the marks left on it did wonders in relaxing you. Clark gently moved the two of you into a spooning position, mindful of his knot still keeping him rock hard and locked inside of you, and played with your hair as you both talked sweet nothings.
"Y'know... I think I fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you"
"Really? That quickly hmhm...? I think I fell for you when you carried me home when I scraped my knee"
"That happened quite often, you'll have to be more specific haha"
"Shut up... So... what did this mean?"
"If it were fully up to me... I'd of marked you and paraded you around the town as my Omega by now... But the deciding vote will always be yours, [name]"
"Hmhm~ I think we can take it a little slower than that... I think boyfriends is a good place to start~"
fratboy!clark can be found in the kitchen of any house party, refilling drinks and snacks and keeping some semblance of cleanliness.
fratboy!clark who started an initiative at his house to stock feminine products in every bathroom.
fratboy!clark is the philanthropy chair for his house because he thinks community service is too important to go by the wayside.
fratboy!clark who tutors his brothers in their english classes and proofreads essays.
fratboy!clark hosts a self defense class for the sororities.
fratboy!clark kisses like his life depends on it.
fratboy!clark has the cleanest bedroom in his house because he likes to fuck you on the hardwood floor.
fratboy!clark rolls a joint better than any of his brothers but never smokes.
fratboy!clark catches you with a cigarette while you’re drunk and plucks it out from between your lips, telling you ‘you’re too hot to smoke’.
fratboy!clark can always be called upon to help with a keg stand.
fratboy!clark punches one of his brothers when he catches the guy staring at your friend’s tits when she’s trying to say something important.
fratboy!clark tugs you to a dark corner of a party to finger you under your too-short skirt.
fratboy!clark is always the DD.
fratboy!clark lets you ride his cock in the driver’s seat of his old truck in an empty parking lot so you can be as loud as you want without his brothers making fun of you the next morning.
fratboy!clark clamps his hand over your mouth when he makes you come on his fingers in the library bathroom.
fratboy!clark makes sure your studies come first and celebrates every time you do well.
fratboy!clark eats you out before morning classes when you spend the night with him because he read a study that orgasms help with mental clarity.
fratboy!clark begs you to stay the night with him every time you have sex.
pairing(s) ༺๑ˊ- clark kent x gn!reader (no genitalia specified)
cws ༺๑ˊ- established relationship, thigh riding, a bit of dryhumping, neck kisses, needy clark
requested? ༺๑ˊ- yes/no
“thought about you all day,” clark whispered next to your ear, kissing the soft skin beneath.
his hands were all over you. he was late to get back from the daily planet, extra tasks piling up on him. simply speaking, he missed you.
“was going crazy,” another kiss beneath your ear, “just wanted to see you.”
he was so clingy, the way he was gripping onto your hips, keeping you sat in his lap. he didn’t want any distance between you. he was desperate.
“love you s’much, baby, gosh…” his voice was a low murmur, feeling his soft lips start exploring down the side of your neck, burying sweet kisses as he travels down.
his hands snuck under the hem of the sweater you were wearing, warm hands holding the soft center of your waist, pulling you against his chest.
“clark, what's gotten into you?” you smiled softly, brushing his jaw to coax him to look at you.
clark moaned. over you caressing his face. he was so needy for you.
“didn’t know there was an issue loving on you,” he muttered, continuing his kisses, finding the sensitive skin underneath your jaw.
he chuckled as your breath hitched, his hands sliding to your back, holding you there.
you felt him buck up into you subconsciously, a testament to his need for you. you drove him crazy by just existing— he was so gone. you felt his bulge against you, a gasp spilling from your lips.
“love you,” he stated again, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his hips rolled against yours, as if his body was moving on its own accord.
you let out a shaky breath, your own hips pressing down against his, gripping onto his broad shoulders.
he groaned softly as your body responded, kissing at the base of your neck, his hands going back to your hips, maneuvering you onto his muscular thigh.
your body was quick to rock against the strong, warm surface, as if it just knew what to do naturally. like it knew it needed clark.
“there you go, that’s my pretty baby,” he breathed, his grip on your hips helping you grind up and down the length of his thigh. “y’doing so good for me.”
his praise made you whine, bringing a wide, satisfied smile to your lover’s lips. you couldn’t see it, with the way his face was buried into you, but you could feel it.
clark started to slowly bounce his knee whenever your hips moved down, pushing up against you. fuck, it felt good. you let out a low moan, the friction more amplified this way.
“yeah? you like that?” he spoke as if he was genuinely asking and not just teasing you.
when you nodded, he smiled. “good. wanna make you feel good.”
you melted against him, just letting yourself feel, much to clark's satisfaction. the way his large hands had a firm yet gentle grip on your hips, dragging you against him, his thigh pushing up against your center to make you whine so beautifully for him.
he would do anything to keep you making those pretty noises for him.
clark restarted his kisses on your soft neck, letting out a little hum of satisfaction whenever he heard you.
“love you, clark,” a soft moan left you. clark felt his hips jut up, a matching moan leaving his pretty lips. he loved when you told him that. he loved you so much.
you loved how easy it was to say it, too. wholeheartedly, like breathing, you didn’t need to think about it. you just loved him.
i couldn’t think of a way to transition elsewhere so mayb pt 2 at some point. giggle
hal jordan and his girlfriend who's obsessed with his ass (+18)
You have Hal face-down on the bed, wrists loosely tied to the headboard with his own power-ring construct (emerald cuffs that pulse every time he flexes, just to remind him who’s in charge). His perfect, sculpted pilot ass is on full display, muscles twitching under your palms like he’s still expecting a spanking that never comes.
Because you’re not spanking him tonight.
You’re worshipping.
You straddle the backs of his thighs, hands spreading him open, and just look. A filthy groan rips out of him when you drag your tongue from the base of his spine all the way down the cleft, slow and wet and deliberate.
“Baby—fuck—didn't expect that,” he rasps, voice cracking halfway through.
You answer by biting one firm cheek hard enough to leave teeth marks. He jerks, the ring cuffs flaring bright green.
Hal really doesn’t know if he’s in heaven or hell, because his girlfriend (sweet, polite, dangerous you) is currently obsessed with his ass in ways that make him doubt his own lifetime pervert credentials.
You knead the muscle like dough, thumbs digging in, spreading him wider. “This,” you murmur against his skin, reverent, “belongs in the goddamn Louvre.”
He tries to laugh. It comes out a wheeze when you lick a stripe over his hole, hot and wet and shameless. His hips buck involuntarily, chasing your mouth.
“Stay still,” you order, voice syrupy sweet, and slap the side of his ass just to watch it jiggle.
You take your time. Tongue circling, pressing in, fucking him open slow while he writhes and babbles (actual Green Lantern of Sector 2814 reduced to broken pleas of “p-please, sweetheart, more—”).
When you finally slide two slick fingers in, he shouts, back arching so hard the cuffs spark. You curl them just right, nails scraping that spot that makes his thighs shake. He’s leaking onto the sheets, cock trapped and aching beneath him.
You lean over his back, lips at his ear, and whisper, “I’m gonna make you come just from this, Hal. No touching that pretty cock. Just my pretty fingers in your ass. Think the ring can handle that much willpower?”
He makes a strangled sound that might be a yes.
You grin, bite down on the curve where thigh meets ass, and get back to work.
/☆ tim drake x fem!reader x conner kent , sex pollen , double penetration, +18
You loved having the apartment all by yourself. Usually, your two roommates were going up and down, bothering you in a harmless but annoying way. Now it was one of them days were you could wander around the apartment, cooking while listening to your "basic bitch" playlist like Tim liked to call it.
After doing your skincare and having dinner, you were laid on the couch with a thick blanket (because you decided that it was a good day to just wear a big shirt and a culotte) when you heard them outside. They were whispering-shouting, dangling the keys while they probably insult each other. You laughed to yourself, stopping the movie but not getting up, so you could hear your roommates fight.
"Stop! Kon, stop!" You could perfectly hear Tim hit Conner on the arm.
"Ouch!"
After entering the apartment, they stayed at the hall. That caught you off guard.
"Y/N?" Tim called your name, making you lift your head from the couch. "Are you in there?"
You noticed his heavy breathing and Conner covering his mouth.
"Well, yes. I live here." You fully got up, discarding the blanket to the side.
You went around the couch and finally got a look of them, still in superhero gear, all sweaty and somehow everything felt too tight on them.
"Wait! Wait, stay there!" Tim moved his hands in front of him and Conner covered his eyes with his hand.
"What the fuck is going on?" you asked, without obeying him and still walking a few steps towards them.
"Y/N, please. Stay right fucking there." Tim's voice tried to be stronger but it sounded weak and a little high pitched.
Conner just peeked a little between his finger. "Shit, she's not wearing any pants."
"Hey!"
"Kon! Shut. The Fuck. Up!"
"Yeah, you two better tell me what the fuck is happening right now." You crossed your arms in your chest and shit, your breast pushed together too nicely for their own good. Tim let out a long breath while Kon did a little whine.
Tim’s gloved hand curled into a fist at his side, his jaw tight. “We got hit. Ivy. It’s—” His throat worked around the word like it burned. “—some aphrodisiac.”
You froze mid-step. “…Huh. Aphrodisiac.”
Conner groaned into his palm, leaning against the wall like he was seconds away from clawing it down. “Fuck, Tim, why’d you say it out loud?”
“Because she needs to know—” Tim’s voice cracked, the flush climbing up his ears. “She can’t just— walk up to us like that.”
You blinked between them, suddenly very aware of the way your oversized shirt barely covered your thighs. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You two show up here, half-dead from… horny plant magic, and I’m the problem because I’m not wearing pants?”
Conner’s hand dragged down his face, and when his eyes met yours, there was so much heat in them you felt your knees lock. “You don’t get it. If you come closer, if you even touch me right now, I’m gonna lose it.”
Tim shoved him back against the wall, though his own fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out to you. “We’re handling it.” His voice was too sharp, which told you he was barely hanging on. “We just need to stay in our room. Cold shower. Sleep it off.”
“Yeah,” Conner muttered, though his gaze kept flicking over your legs, up the hem of your shirt. “Totally. Cold shower. Great plan. Except, uh—” He licked his lips, and the sound of it made your stomach flip. “You smell really fucking good right now.”
Tim swore under his breath, his composure cracking for a second as he dug his nails into his palm. He didn’t even look at you when he snapped, “Don’t. Don’t say that.”
Your heartbeat picked up, partly from their intensity, partly from the way you realized they were both trembling, shoulders tight, every breath ragged like they were fighting themselves.
“So you two are just gonna lock yourselves in a room all night? Sweaty, flushed, rock hard, probably—”
“Y/N!” Tim’s voice shot up an octave, scandalized. His ears were crimson now.
Conner, on the other hand, groaned like your words physically hit him. “Don’t tease right now. Please. I can’t— Fuck Tim, I can’t keep it together.”
Tim’s head thunked back against the wall. He looked wrecked already, biting down on his lip so hard you were worried it’d split.
And suddenly the living room felt about ten degrees hotter.
You tilted your head, voice dropping lower as you edged one step closer, ignoring Tim’s panicked little warning noise.
“So… are you asking for help?”
The words made both of them freeze. Conner’s breath hitched so loud you almost laughed, and Tim’s eyes went wide, lips parting like you’d just threatened him with a kryptonite blade.
“No!” Tim blurted, too fast, too sharp. He cleared his throat, fumbling. “I mean, no, we’re not asking. That’s not— this isn’t—”
Conner, meanwhile, stared at you like you’d hung the moon. His fists were clenched at his sides, chest heaving. “If you offered, though…” His voice cracked, low and desperate. “God, I don’t think I could say no.”
“Kon.” Tim’s warning was paper-thin, his hand darting out to grip Conner’s arm. But the way his jaw flexed, the way his thighs pressed together, it betrayed him.
You arched a brow, letting your gaze trail deliberately down both of them, drinking in the sight of Gotham’s best and brightest squirming like they were about to combust in your hallway. “You’re both really bad liars, you know that?”
Tim swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “This isn’t fair. You—” His eyes flicked down your bare legs and he shut them tight, hissing through his teeth. “You can’t. God, Y/N, don’t tease like this.”
But you could see it now, crystal clear: the way Conner’s body leaned toward you, every muscle taut like he was straining against a leash, and the way Tim’s breathing stuttered, his hand trembling where it still gripped Conner.
You let a slow smile curl on your lips. “So you do want my help.”
Conner groaned, head thunking against the wall. “Ivy’s a sadist. She knew what she was doing. Fuck, Y/N, please…”
Tim’s eyes snapped open, hazy and conflicted. His voice was a whisper, harsh and thin: “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say please to her.”
“Why not?” you cut in, stepping close enough now that the heat radiating off their bodies licked at your skin. “He sounds pretty sincere.”
Conner’s chest rose sharply, gaze locked on you like he was drowning and you were the air.
Tim swore again, but his grip on Conner’s arm slackened just a little. His control was slipping, and you could see how much he wanted to give in.
Your heart was hammering as you lowered your voice even further. “So… one more time. Do you want me to help?”
Conner looked a Tim almost desperate, now that you were closer you could see the line of their cocks straining against their suits.
Surprisingly, Tim was the first to answer. "Yes."
"Fuck, yes." Conner followed.
It's been, maybe, two hours? You aren't really sure. But your roommates are far from tired. You had sit in Conner's head while giving Tim a handjob, took Conner's cock in your mouth while Tim stretched you from behind, Conner had fucked you at the same time Tim was eating you out. But nothing seemed enough for them.
You were dripping, sticky with a nasty mix of cum, sweat and saliva. All of you were covered in marks and red spots, Conner was all sweaty while Tim managed his breath. Both of them were tired. But still rock hard.
Conner dragged you by the leg, hooking it in his shoulder.
"More?" you breath out, hiding your face in Tim's thigh.
"I know, baby, I know. But we can't help it," Conner said, already dragging the tip of his cock along your wetness. "One last time, I promise we'll make it up to you."
"Mmph..." you accommodated yourself against Tim's chest while Conner slid into you fast and easy.
Conner was already trembling, his thrusts sloppy, sweat dripping down his temples. He leaned his forehead against your shin where your leg was hooked over his shoulder. “Fuck, you feel unreal. I don’t even know how you’re still letting us inside you.”
You clung to Tim’s arms, shaking your head weakly. “Don’t stop.”
Tim’s voice was rough, frayed with exhaustion, but he forced a smirk as he stroked the sweat-slick hair from your face. “Look at you, baby. Falling apart on us, and still begging.”
Conner let out a ragged laugh, cut off by a moan when you clenched around him. “She’s greedy, man. Can’t get enough. Not even after, what? Five, six times?”
“Seven,” you gasped, voice breaking.
Tim chuckled hoarsely, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Seven, huh? And you still want more, mmh?”
Your head fell back with a choked sob, pleasure ricocheting through your veins.
Then Tim’s mouth brushed your ear, his whisper dark and deliberate. “You think you can take both of us at once?”
The words hit you harder than Conner’s thrusts, your whole body clenching around him in response.
“W-what?” you managed, though your voice was broken, pleading.
Tim smirked against your skin. “Both our cocks.
The words made your whole body tighten, your nails digging into his arm. “I—I don’t know if I can.”
Conner groaned, dragging his hips in one more shallow thrust. He was shaking, barely holding himself together. “You can. You’re so fucking perfect, we’ll make it fit. We’ll talk you through it.”
Tim’s lips brushed your ear, his tone wrecked but coaxing. “Yeah. You just listen to us. Breathe. Relax. Let us stretch you nice and slow.”
Conner’s hand covered your thigh, warm and unsteady. “It’s gonna be a lot, but you’ll feel so full, baby. So fucking full of us, you won’t even know where one of us ends and the other starts.”
You whimpered, hips twitching. “God, that sounds—”
Tim cut you off with a kiss, lazy but filthy, pulling back just to murmur against your lips. “C'mon. Say you want it.”
“I want it,” you whispered, wrecked. “I want both of you.”
Tim chuckled darkly, kissing your temple as his fingers pressed harder against your clit. “Good girl.”
Conner’s thrust faltered, his cock twitching inside you. “Holy shit, we’re really— are we really—”
"Yeah. Pull out of her, it'll be more comfortable with her facing me on my lap." Tim explained, practically grabbing Conner's cock to pull it out of your wet cunt. You groaned at the emptiness, but Tim hushed you, kissing your temple. “Shhh. We’re right here. Just breathe, baby.”
He guided you up a little, angling himself beneath you. “Look at me.” His eyes were dark, rimmed red from exhaustion, but his voice was low, coaxing. “You sit down on me first. Let me in, nice and slow.”
Your hands trembled on his shoulders as you sank down, inch by inch, onto his cock. Tim groaned, tilting his head back, then forced his eyes open to keep watching your face. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Taking me so good.”
By the time you were fully seated, your thighs were quivering. “S'full already,” you whispered.
Conner’s hand landed on your hip, steadying you. “Not even close,” he rasped. His eyes flicked to Tim’s, a silent exchange, before he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Gonna stretch you more, sweetheart. You ready?”
You nodded, breathless.
Tim cupped your jaw, holding you steady. “Words, baby. Tell us.”
“Yes,” you gasped. “I want both of you inside me.”
Conner swore under his breath, lining himself up behind you, his cock sliding against Tim’s where he was already buried in you. “Fuck, she’s so wet I can feel it from here.”
Tim kissed your jaw, grounding you. “It’s gonna sting at first. But just keep your eyes on me. Breathe with me.”
The first push from Conner made your whole body jolt, a sharp burn stretching you wide. You whined into Tim’s shoulder, nails digging into his skin.
“Easy, baby,” Tim murmured, stroking your cheek. “That’s just the stretch. You can take it. You’re perfect.”
Conner groaned low, his forehead pressing to your shin. “She’s so fucking tight, Tim. Holy shit.” He pushed a little deeper, teeth gritted, fighting to go slow. “You’re doing so good, babe. Just a little more.”
You sobbed against Tim’s neck, overwhelmed but desperate. “More. Please.”
Tim’s lips brushed your ear, whispering filth like a prayer. “Greedy little thing. You love it, don’t you? Being stuffed full, stretched open by both of us.”
“Yes,” you cried, hips twitching. “Fuck, yes.”
Conner bottomed out with a broken moan, the three of you pressed flush, every inch of you trembling. You felt impossibly full, every nerve sparking.
Tim’s hands framed your face, forcing you to look at him. “There you go. Look at you. Taking us both like you were made for it.”
Conner’s breath was hot on your leg, his voice shaking. “Can’t believe this is real. You’re… fuck, you’re perfect.”
"So fucking perfect," Tim agreed, kissing your earlobe. "We can stay like this a little more, or we can start moving. What do you want, baby?"
"M-move, please." You dig your nails deeper into Tim's skin, throat bobbing and full of marks
It was slow, Tim rocking up into you while Conner drew back just enough to thrust shallow. Both of them groaning, both of them whispering against your skin.
You were so full it was dizzying, their cocks dragging against each other with every motion, grinding deep against every sensitive spot inside you. The burn had long since melted into sharp pleasure, every thrust forcing little gasps and whines out of you.
“Fuck, listen to her,” Conner rasped, his voice cracking. “She’s dripping all over us. Can feel it.”
Tim kissed you messy, all teeth and desperation, his words spilling hot against your mouth. “She’s gonna come like this. Squeezed so tight around both of us.”
Your nails dug into Tim’s shoulders, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as the pressure built, unbearable, unstoppable. “I can’t— I can’t—”
“You can.” Tim’s forehead pressed to yours, his voice breaking even as he tried to ground you. “You’re perfect. Let go for us.”
Conner’s thrusts stuttered, deeper, rougher, his breath shattering against your skin. “Come on, baby. Be good for us. Cream all over our cocks. Please, fuck, please.”
That last word, wrecked and begging, tipped you over. You screamed, clenching down around both of them as your orgasm tore through you, blinding, body convulsing in their arms.
The way you squeezed them dragged them under with you.
Tim groaned your name into your mouth, hips jerking helplessly as he spilled inside you, his composure shattering completely. Conner buried his face against your neck, muffling a guttural cry as his release filled you too, the stretch and heat almost unbearable.
The three of you shook together, loud and messy and desperate, clinging to each other like you might drown otherwise.
By the time it ebbed, you were limp between them, their arms keeping you upright. Both boys were still panting, still trembling, still buried in you, but all they could do now was hold you close.
"Is... is the pollen gone?" you asked, a little scared if they dragged you to another round.
"I think so, yeah." Conner managed to say, tracing patters that made you shiver.
You three stayed silent for a long time, both of them didn't stop hugging you or caressing you. Then, you thought something.
"Why you didn't try get the pollen of each other?" You frowned a little, looking between them.
"Trust me, we tried." Tim laughed a little like it was a vague memory.
"We didn't want to drag you into this." Conner pointed out, pressing his lips together.
This is how I think the BatBurger place trains their employees for dealing with the Batfam.
Mark, the manager: Okay. So. We do pride ourselves on being the establishment of choice for the vigilantes of Gotham.
That means you will be serving the Bats. And there are a couple ground rules.
Now. Unfortunately this has happened enough times that it is a rule. Do not flirt with Nightwing. I know he starts it, he's joking, don't finish it. That's just an HR demand waiting to happen. And I will fire you.
Second. If Red Hood comes, don't ask him if he wants his fries jokerized. Just do it. He does want them jokerized but don't mention it.
Uhh, fair warning, the middle one will stalk you. Just for a bit. It's normal I think, he's just doing a background check. That's my bad, apparently I hired a 'Shadow' once, whatever the fuck that means.
The yellow one and the purple one, are cool. Yellow comes mostly during the day, so you don't have to worry. And if Purple drops any glitter just sweep after she leaves.
The one that looks like Batman but gender-bend is cool too, but you're not allowed to say 'yes' if she offers teaching you self defense. That's an order from Corporate.
Do not. –Listen to me– Do. Not. Serve the little one meat. I don't care if you're tired. I don't care if there aren't any veggie options left. You don't serve him meat. He's a vegetarian, last guy to get it mixed up is the reason why we have a job opening, got it?
And lastly. If ANY of them is actively bleeding or looks worse for wear, you press this button and don't say anything. It sends Batman a message and he pays us extra if we let him know his kids are hurt.
You turn your head to look at what Jason is pointing at and grin.
"It's my Fatson Todd plushie."
Your brother looks at you like an indecipherable puzzle. He looks at the plush toy sitting proudly on your pillow, then back at you, then back at the toy again.
"Wouldn't it be Fat Hood, since it's my suit?"
You pick up your rotund plush and hold it in your lap. The material is incredibly soft. You draw a little six pack of abs into its tummy with your finger.
"Oh. Yeah. It's got the helmet on and everything."
"Where'd you even get that?" He asks.
"Chinese website."
"....do they...do they have any more?"
You reach under your bed and pull out a second fat plush. Jason grabs it with a huge grin and thanks you with a noogie.
Clark uses readers boobs as stressballs - randomly squeezing , sucking , licking her nipples every time he gets a chance
mdni 18+
oh for sure, clark probably wouldn’t get his hands off your tits, pulling you into his lap to hold them while you’re watching tv together, needing a hand on them to fall asleep at night, sucking on a nipple while you’re riding him. he would suggest you just go topless around the house, leaving you shaking your head and giggling at him. he would say “they’re just so comforting” while he’s laying his head on one, playing with the other one when he’s finally gotten your top off at the end of the day.
it’s probably his life’s goal to make you come just from playing with your tits. maybe you remind him that’s not how your anatomy works, but he insists on trying. he gets you so close one night just from his mouth and hands on your tits, so close that a brush of his fingers over your clit sends you over the edge. clark’s beaming, an accomplished smile adorning his beautiful face.
thinking heavily about clark just loving his girl, disgusting, bordering obsessive love where you catch him staring at you in quiet moments. he loves you so much he listens to your whole story about how your nails got messed up because your normal nail tech wasn’t at the salon the day you went in and he feels so deeply about what you’ve told him that he’s up half the night teaching himself to do gel so he can do them right for you every time. and god, yeah he gets stupidly good at it even with his massive hands struggling to hold the brushes right the first two times he does them for you. maybe he even starts to do little designs and tells you it’s his “new creative outlet”. you probably pick up his phone one day and open it to find a secret pinterest board of nail art. maybe you make him call in sick to work so you can ride him all day because it’s the only way you can possibly think to express the pure golden love that’s wormed it’s way into your heart.
it’s possible i’ve begun to think about clark never wanting you to do anything during sex, not wanting you to have any work except coming. you try to fuck back onto him while you’re face down, ass up? no, he’s holding you tight and saying “tell me how you want it, baby, don’t need to work for it. just tell me. harder? faster?” you try to get your mouth on his cock? no, he’s guiding you back up to his lips with a hand on your jaw. you try to ride him? no, he’s thrusting up from under you, practically bouncing you on his hips from the force he puts behind his thrusts.
maybe, once, he’s got you in missionary and you lift your hips a little so he hits just the right place inside you that sends your head spinning. he notices that you’re using your tummy muscles to lift yourself, meaning you’re not completely relaxed. he huffs, kisses your mouth once, then sits up on his knees and pulls you close to him by your thighs, holding the weight of your lower body so he can hit that spot inside you with ease and so you can relax into it.
it probably even happens when he’s eating you out, you try to rock against his face so he can enjoy a little more and not be so focused on the rhythm, but he grips your hips to still your movements then immediately matches the pace and intensity you were just going at.
