#wayneskluv

[wayneskluv]

summary: Your mom—Wonder Woman—just dropped you off at Wayne Manor like a kid because she apparently couldn’t find a “suitable babysitter.” Never mind that you’re a fully grown adult and more than capable of taking care of yourself. Now you’re stuck in a mansion full of brooding vigilantes, chaotic adopted siblings, and a butler who’s already silently judging your life choices.

You survived battles, monsters, and Olympian family drama—but can you survive living with the Batfamily?

word count: ???

pairing/s: platonic!damian x reader (definite, set in stone) and then i’m not sure maybe dick x reader or jason x reader idk atm

warnings: basically none at the moment. damian being a bit of a demon brat. demigod!user.

authors note: um so hi. i’m back! probably. this might be a new sort of fic if anyone is interested.. like just chaos and perhaps a romantic pairing.. i will actually work on the peraltiago fic at some point but life has been HECTIC.

find chapter one here!

WAYNE Manor looms ahead, all gothic spires and looming stone, like something out of a horror novel rather than a billionaire’s estate. You shift the strap of your duffel bag, inhaling deeply. The air here is thick with old books, expensive wood polish, and—oddly enough—gunpowder. Fitting, considering the people inside.

The massive doors swing open before you can knock, revealing Alfred, ever the picture of poise. His expression is unreadable, but there’s warmth in his voice. “Miss. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

Inside, the house is even grander. High ceilings, walls lined with paintings older than some civilizations, and a staircase that looks like it was built for dramatic entrances.

Bruce is already there, waiting near the banister like some brooding gargoyle. Arms crossed. Stance firm. His usual intimidation tactics, but you’ve faced literal gods.

“You’ll be staying in the east wing,” he says. “Alfred will show you to your room.”

You raise a brow. “No speech? No ‘my house, my rules’?”

He exhales sharply. “You already know the rules. You’re not a guest—you’re an ally.”

Which is Bat-speak for I trust you, but I’ll still be watching you like a hawk.

Then, Chaos.

Dick is the first to approach, all bright smiles and easy warmth. “Hey! Glad you’re here.” He pulls you into a quick one-armed hug before you can react. “Don’t let the gloom and doom fool you—this place is kinda fun once you settle in.”

Jason, leaning against the staircase railing, snorts. “Fun? Sure. If you like near-death experiences and questioning your mortality on a daily basis.”

Tim, slouched on the couch with a coffee in hand, barely looks up. “Give it a few days. You’ll either love it or start reconsidering your life choices.”

“Tt.” The noise comes from Damian, standing stiffly at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed like a tiny warlord. His eyes flick over you, assessing, calculating. “You may be the daughter of an Amazon, but that does not mean you are above scrutiny.”

You smirk. “And you must be the infamous Damian. I’ve heard so much about you.”

His scowl deepens. “I highly doubt that.”

Dick slings an arm around your shoulders, grinning. “You’ll fit right in.”

You glance around at the absolute mess of personalities—grumpy billionaires, reckless vigilantes, over-caffeinated detectives, and a pint-sized assassin with a superiority complex.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

[wayneskluv]

Wonder Woman's daughter x Bat-fam - Chapter one

summary: Your mom—Wonder Woman—just dropped you off at Wayne Manor like a kid because she apparently couldn’t find a “suitable babysitter.” Never mind that you’re a fully grown adult and more than capable of taking care of yourself. Now you’re stuck in a mansion full of brooding vigilantes, chaotic adopted siblings, and a butler who’s already silently judging your life choices.

You survived battles, monsters, and Olympian family drama—but can you survive living with the Batfamily?

word count: around 1.6k before i made final touches on tumblr editor

pairing/s: platonic!alfred x reader, platonic!damian x reader (he's a child in this fic!) and then maybe romantically dick x reader or jason x reader perhaps even tim. probably not bruce x reader. if anyone has any preferences, do let me know!

warnings: basically none at the moment. haven't pre-read. no beta, we die like jason todd. damian being a bit of a demon brat. demigod!user.

a/n: all images edited by me! if there’s an artist i haven’t credited, please let me know! i usually get my images from pinterest, and the credit is.. not great. if i’ve written something twice or misspelled something please PLEASE don’t hesitate to tell me. i very much appreciate it. but please be kind! i promise the next parts will be longer, this is sort of an intro into it. even if they aren’t longer, i’ll write a few.

# ── chapter one's POLAROID design - DAMIAN’S:

WAYNE MANOR is.. a lot.

It’s not just the size—though the sheer magnitude of the place is ridiculous—it’s the atmosphere. There’s a certain weight to the air, something woven between the old wood and polished marble, between the paintings of long-dead Waynes and the ever-present shadows stretching down the halls. It’s a house of ghosts, of past lives and quiet grief, but also of something more. Something alive.

You follow Alfred through the halls, the weight of multiple sets of eyes trailing behind you.

“So,” Dick says, effortlessly slipping into step beside you, “how long are you crashing with us?”

“Not sure,” you admit. “Mom was vague. Something about a ‘diplomatic mission’ and ‘needing someone to keep an eye on me.’”

Jason makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re a grown adult. You need a babysitter?”

“Right?!” You throw up a hand. “I told her that. But apparently, my ‘tendency to attract trouble’ means I need supervision.”

Tim, still lounging on the couch with his coffee, raises an eyebrow. “You’re in good company, then.”

“I fail to see why we should be responsible for you,” Damian mutters, arms still crossed. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself. Do you require assistance dressing yourself as well?”

You smirk. “No, but thanks for the concern.” How old was this kid?

Damian bristles. Jason outright laughs.

Bruce, who had been silent up until now, finally speaks. “You’re here. You’ll train, patrol, and follow house rules. No exceptions.”

Ah. There it is. The Batman speech.

You tilt your head. “Define ‘rules.’”

Jason grins.

Bruce ignores him. “No reckless fights, no engaging Gotham’s rogues without backup, and no breaking my city.”

You cross your arms. “Define ‘breaking.’”

Tim groans into his coffee.

Dick pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You look around at your newly acquired dysfunctional family and resist the urge to sigh.

Mom really did just dump you here like a stray dog, huh?

—

You’re led to your new room—temporary room, you remind yourself—as Alfred sweeps open the door with his usual poised efficiency.

The space is huge. Bigger than necessary. A four-poster bed, heavy oak furniture, a massive window overlooking the eternal Gotham gloom. Everything is dark wood, old money, and class. The whole place smells faintly of leather-bound books and expensive cologne. It’s… nice. In a cold, excessively rich, mildly haunted sort of way.

Alfred clears his throat. “I took the liberty of preparing the room to your specifications. If anything is unsuitable, do let me know.”

Your specifications. Right. You’d told your mom you didn’t need anything, but she must have sent a list anyway, because there’s ambrosia nectar in a crystal decanter on the desk, a thick training mat rolled up in the corner, and a wardrobe that probably contains battle-appropriate outfits tailored to your measurements.

She really did just drop you off and send instructions like you’re a dog.

“Thanks, Alfred,” you say, running a hand over the desk. Solid mahogany. You could probably suplex a god onto it, and it would hold.

He nods approvingly. “Dinner is at seven. I trust you will have no issue finding the dining hall?”

You smirk. “I don’t know. This place is a maze. You sure I won’t end up lost and starving in the east wing?”

He doesn’t blink. “Then I shall inform Master Wayne that a search party may be required.”

Alfred departs, leaving you to take in the ridiculousness of your situation. You sit on the bed—comfortably firm, definitely high-thread-count sheets—and drop onto your back, staring at the ceiling.

Your mother owes you so much for this.

—

You spend the next couple of hours getting familiar with your prison.

It’s quiet for a while. Peaceful.

Then the knocking starts.

“Hey, Newbie.”

The door opens before you can answer. Dick. Of course it’s Dick.

He leans in, all easy grins and big brother energy. “Figured I’d check in. You settled?”

“As settled as I’ll ever be,” you say, sitting up.

Dick saunters in like he owns the place (which, okay, technically he used to). He glances around, nodding at the Amazonian touches. “Mom went all out, huh?”

“She thinks Gotham is held together with duct tape. She’s probably right.”

“Oh, definitely right.”

Before you can ask what he actually wants, another figure appears in the doorway.

Jason.

He crosses his arms, giving you a slow once-over. “So. You’re an Amazon.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Dick chokes on a laugh. Jason grins.

—

The next few hours are a crash course in Batfamily survival.

Tim appears just long enough to tell you that “if you touch my coffee, I will kill you” before vanishing into the night like a cryptid.

Damian tests your reflexes by casually throwing a knife at you in the hallway. You catch it without looking. He says nothing. Just nods and walks away.

Jason decides to test your strength. By handing you a gun. You crush it in your bare hand. “…Well, okay then.”

Dick drags you into the living room for an impromptu movie night. Apparently, it’s a tradition. Jason spends half the movie making snarky Amazon jokes. Damian complains about historical inaccuracies.

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re half-convinced you’ve walked into a madhouse.

Alfred serves a massive feast (courtesy of your inhuman dietary needs). You sit at the table, surrounded by Gotham’s weirdest vigilantes, eating like an Amazon in the middle of a completely normal family meal.

It’s bizarre. It’s horrifying.

It’s… weirdly nice.

Bruce, sitting at the head of the table, barely says anything. He’s watching you, but it’s not that usual piercing Batman stare—it’s more like a curiosity. Maybe he’s wondering what kind of trouble you’ll stir up. Maybe he just doesn’t know what to make of you. You’ve barely had a real conversation with him, just him dropping you here with all the grace of a father figuring out how to deal with his kids’ newest problem. But then again, Bruce Wayne isn’t exactly father of the year.

Dick’s usual charm is in full swing as he tries to make small talk. “So, you’re a demigod, huh? You’re gonna have to teach me some moves sometime. You know, to keep up with all the crazy stuff we have to do around here.” His smile is big, open—like he’s trying to make you feel at home, but you can tell there’s a nervous energy under it. He keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to approach someone who could probably snap him like a twig. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Jason, sitting next to you, shovels food in with no care for finesse. “So, you’re Wonder Woman’s kid. That explains the whole glowing warrior princess thing you’ve got going on. What do you actually do with all that godly power? Sit on mountaintops and brood or do you, like, break people’s faces for a living?” His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes. He’s testing you.

“You’d be surprised,” you say coolly, setting your fork down. “I’ve had a bit of experience with face-breaking.”

Jason laughs. “Good, because Gotham needs a lot of that.”

Damian, who had been silently poking at his food, suddenly looks up from his plate. His eyes narrow with some strange mix of suspicion and mild interest. “You will be trained, I assume?” he asks, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “Or do you believe that your divine abilities will suffice?”

You almost choke on your drink. “Oh, I’m definitely trained, kid. What, you think just because I’m half-god I don’t need to learn how to fight like a human?”

Damian’s lips curl up into something that might be a sneer, but it’s more like the equivalent of a raised eyebrow from someone who’s always trying to one-up everyone. “I suppose that’s a good attitude, for now.”

You raise an eyebrow back, feeling the tension between you two starting to spark. “Keep thinking that.”

Tim, who’s been glaring into his phone the whole time, suddenly looks up. His expression is the usual deadpan, but you catch a flicker of curiosity. “You know,” he says, tapping on his screen, “if you really want to get the most out of this place, you’ll have to figure out which of us is your mentor. Bruce is… well, Bruce, so don’t expect much from him. But if you’re looking for a solid training regiment, maybe ask Dick or Jason. Just—don’t get too attached to the idea of normal training. This is Gotham, and we all have our… quirks.” He’s about to say more when Bruce interrupts with a sharp look.

“That’s enough, Tim,” Bruce says softly, but with authority. The room falls silent for a moment. Tim’s eyes flicker up at Bruce, then down at his phone. No more words from him.

It’s… strange. You’re used to the chaos, but this feels like a whole other level of dysfunction. They bicker like siblings, but there’s this undercurrent of something deeper—loyalty maybe? You can tell that whatever happens between these people, they’re bound by something stronger than just the weight of their shared lives.

You take a breath and cut in, trying to ease the tension. “Look, I’m just here for the short-term. All I need is a place to crash and a bit of guidance while Mom does whatever it is she’s doing.”

“Short-term?” Damian asks, raising a brow. “How short is short-term?”

You glance over at him, the corners of your mouth tugging into a smirk. “Not long enough for you to start calling me ‘sis,’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He glares at you. “We shall see.”

The dinner continues, awkwardly at first but slowly finding its rhythm. There’s a comfortable noise in the air now—the kind that only happens when people are used to each other’s company. And while you’re still very much the outsider in this strange little family, for the first time since you arrived, the weight of the world outside feels just a little bit lighter.

@hjgdhghoe @linnygirl09

[wayneskluv]

JASON TODD who listens to you go on about something you’re interested about for hours on end, nodding whilst repeating “Yeah, that’s great, love.”

After a few more hours, he cannot take it anymore. His hand finds your chin, slowly guiding your lips against his. After a few moments, his chapped lips remove themselves from yours and your head turns to the side curiously.

He lets out a small hum, as a lazy grin forms on the lips that were previously latched against yours. “Sorry, baby. Just needed you to shut up.”

[wayneskluv]

it’s possible she wants you back ¡! ❞ | n. romanoff

summary: your super cool assassin gf broke up with you but she wants you back sooo win win ig | pt 2 with fluff/smut?

word count: 711

pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!reader

warning: mentions of alc/nat being drunk, use of petnames “love” & “baby”

authors note: i would let her do anything to me but i'd also give her a hug and tell her everything's gonna be okay & the use of y/n, i had to for it to make sense, please forgive me 🙏

NATASHA thought breaking up with you would be for your own good, she didn’t deserve you. She was always late for date night due to her duties as an avenger, she had consistent nightmares that kept you awake and she was jealous of anyone who, well, looked at you—she couldn’t really blame them though.

“Baby..” Her whines echoed from behind your front door, from where a slightly intoxicated drunk as fuck Natasha was located. She was too drunk to be able to knock on the door, but you knew she was there, you knew her voice.

You take a deep breath, before you place a trembling hand on your door handle and gently pushing down as if it would break if you looked at it. "Jesus, Nat." A small sigh escapes you as you register her pathetic state, your hand instinctively reaching out to prop her upright. You haven't seen her this drunk in years, and she, most certainly, was not a lightweight.

"C'mon." You gently guide her into your living room, being as delicate as humanly possible. You sit her down on your couch, though as soon as you let go, she sprawls out lazily. "Gotta sit up, Nat. Don't wanna be sick.” You sound like a disappointed parent berating your child, because as much as you were mad at your ex, you loved her with your entire heart, and you still cared about her immensely.

You begin to rise to your feet, to go grab her a glass of water, before a pitiful hand drapes across your arm. "Please, Don't hiccup leave me." If it was anyone else, you'd have pushed them off immediately but you couldn't ignore her pleading eyes. "Yeah, 's okay. I'll stay. 'm not going anywhere."

As you speaks, the thick stench of liquor floods your senses and you feel ever-so-slightly ill. "Nat, love, what happened?" The breakup was fresh, the pet-name was a slip of the tongue, but you couldn't go back now—it’s not like she'd remember in the morning.

"Miss you. So, so, so much." The words roll off her tongue in a drunken slur, and you wouldn't have heard them if you weren't paying careful attention to her. You felt sorry for her, in all honesty-sure, she'd broken up with you without telling you why, and sure, she'd been acting distant, but she seemed genuinely upset.

"You still haven't told me why you broke up with me." You let out a dry chuckle, your shoulders untensing subtly as you notice her slowly regain colour to her face. “Okay, I'll tell you, but you can't tell y/n." The drunken hush she tries to add to her elevated tone is adorable and you have to stifle a grin as you nod, mock seriously. "| promise."

Once she gets your confirmation, she pauses for a few seconds as her head throbs harder, but then it slows and her eyes meet yours. "I was worried I wasn't good enough." Oh. That's not what you were expecting. You were expecting her to say it was something you did, like put an empty peanut butter jar back in the cupboard or anything, really, she has a bit of a temper.

"Really? So it's nothing I did?" Your voice goes up three octaves as you glance down at her, nervously biting down on your bottom lip. "What? 'Course not." It's clear the alcohol is taking a toll on her, and she looks as if she's going to vomit all over you.

You let out a slightly overdramatic sigh, “You take the bed, l'll the couch.” Your arm loops down around her waist, carefully pulling her up off the couch—if you weren't holding her so tightly, she'd had fallen head first into the ground.

The sound of hiccups echo your apartment as you both walk into your bedroom, something she was rather familiar with. You took no caution in letting her drop onto your bed, though you made sure she was in a proper sleeping position to avoid choking on her own vomit.

She falls asleep almost immediately and it's the first time since you've broken up you've seen her look so peaceful. You stand in the door for a few more moments before reluctantly dragging yourself toward the couch.

[wayneskluv]

BOYFRIEND!JASON TODD who acts cold & tough toward you in public, only to become needy as fuck as soon as you get to your shared apartment, begging you to finish dinner quicker so you can cuddle on your couch (that he chose).

BESTFRIEND!JASON TODD who remembers small details about you (like your favourite chocolate bar) and shows up at your door after you complained you were hungry.

BROTHER!JASON TODD who overhead you crying about something that happened at school, so he threatens to beat someone up for you—and only reassures you he won’t after atleast an hour of begging.

RIVAL!JASON TODD who calls you weak for getting beat up by someone else, yet gets pissed at the fact you dare fight anyone else (he makes sure to find out the name of said person to make sure they won’t bother you again).

BOYFRIEND!JASON TODD who has nightmares about Joker years later, and always turns to you for comfort. Once, you tried to wake him up and he grabbed your wrist, bruising it, so he slept on the couch for a week (he still hasn’t forgiven himself).

BESTFRIEND!JASON TODD who you’ve had movie night with at Wayne Manor every Friday night since you were both sixteen. Dick, Tim & Damian always used to join you until four weeks ago for ‘no reason’ (Jason paid them all so he could spend more time with you alone).

BROTHER!JASON TODD who makes fun of you all the time yet the second someone even makes a single comment about you, he’ll punch them right in their stupid face.

RIVAL!JASON TODD who always shows up your apartment, bloody & bruised. He’ll push past you, letting small grunts out as he limps toward your white couch. You’ll clean up his cuts, and he’ll hold your hand tightly and when you’ve done, he’ll stand back up and leave with saying another word.

[wayneskluv]

and they were roommates — h. quinn

summary: silly lesbian roommates

word count: 690

warnings: implications of masterbation at the end

pairing: roommate!harley quinn x f!reader

authors note: non canon harley cause she’s not so insane so just pretend it’s harleen quinzel | i’ll do a part 2 if anyone wants one 😭

You were sat at your desk, your fingertips gracing the keys as you mindlessly type yet another essay that will not, in any way, be useful in the real world.

“Hi.” You hear a high pitched voice from behind you, the New York accent belonging to your roommate, that you sort-of-definitely-have-a-thing-for, Harley Quinn. “Whatcha working on?” As she speaks, she leans in closer, having absolutely no concept of personal space.

You let out an exasperated sigh, that you cut off with a chuckle. “Nothing special.” You say, your eyes never leaving the screen. A small smile tugs at the side of your lips, feeling the lingering presences of Harley from behind you.

“Sorry, Harls. Gotta work on this.” If you’d turned around, you’d have seen the over-dramatic pout she was putting on.

It was almost comical how she could make any small gesture and it would instantly pull your attention her way. You did, in fact, turn to look at her finally and were caught off guard by the playful pout that was now on her lips. It brought a sudden rush of air, almost as if you’d forgotten to breathe.

“No reason to look at me like that. I still have like… another hour, at least, to work on this. Can’t let it get too close to the deadline.”

“I wasn’t doing anything.” Came the quick answer from Harley. It was almost like she could sense where your eyes would be looking next, because now she was standing in the way of your computer screen.

“You could be doing something other than working.” She whined, leaning back over and placing her hands, on the edge of your desk, on either side of your keyboard.

“Oh, yeah?” The flirty words roll off your tongue before you can stop them, almost muscle memory at the point. Your head peers round her waist, trying to focus on your work and not the close proximity.

She laughed at your inability to focus on the task at hand. The proximity between the two of you, she knew, had to be distracting for you too. “So,” her hands moved, and she stood a little straighter, allowing you a proper view back at your computer screen.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” The flirtatious banter was easy with Harley, but there was an understanding beneath this playful behaviour which felt nice.

“Nothing.” You replied, though the tone of your voice, the body language you were exuding said the exact opposite. Harley was enjoying the back and forth between the two of you; the feeling of tension as her proximity continued to remain very close to yours.

She had been waiting for the moment where you’d have no excuse, no excuse to not ask her to hang out more. And this was the perfect opening, she was offering to spend time with you, outside of your shared apartment.

“Wanna do something?” She says, “You know, together. When you’ve done.” Her voice is almost too eager, if she didn’t have such a bubbly personality, you’d have been more curious.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You reply, this was what you’d been waiting for. That invitation, that openness. The playful back and forth banter between you was one thing. And your roommate situation was a whole entirely different situation, which felt like it was a bit of a hindrance to this budding, whatever was going on.

“Maybe something to eat,” she started, “Something outside of these walls.” She was so hyper-focused on the space between you, your proximity, you felt almost as if she was breathing for the both of you.

“Yeah, sounds great.” In your concentration, you dart out your tongue to wet your bottom, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

An hour later, you finally click the save button and close your laptop down. You stand up, stretching as you move with a small groan, and you head toward Harleys room. As your bare heels hit the floor, you hear the prettiest little whines coming from her room. You’re about to knock when you hear a low whimper of your name.

[wayneskluv]

can you pls write a scott lang smut 🙏 where he is a switch and with a choking kink? also he cannot shut up as well so lots of praise from both reader and him

ngh.. scott lang with a choking (?) kink… freaky!

pairing/s: switch!scott lang x male/amab!reader

warnings: choking. sex. dirty talk. praise. mouthy scott. reader has a penis (theoretically could pretend it’s a strap on.. i guess? not really). reader’s gender left ambiguous (no pronouns). the use of the pet name ‘baby.’ user is a top in this.

summary: porn w a little bit of plot. you fuck on tony’s couch and forget he has camera’s.

a/n: sorry this is months late.. my bad. only a short one! i’m so much better at writing fluff/sfw i’m SO out of practise please send smut requests 🙏 uhm he got choked a lil bit.. but it wasn’t the whole plot so

STARK TOWER was… well, exactly what you’d expect from the guy who coined the term “genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.” Everything was sleek, shiny, and probably cost more than your entire life. Even the couch you were currently sinking into felt like it could pay off your student loans—twice.

Scott flopped down beside you, stretching his legs out like he owned the place. Which, you supposed, was fair. If Tony was gonna make you babysit his house loan out his penthouse for the weekend, you might as well make yourself comfortable. Not that Scott ever needed an invitation to relax.

“So,” he began, leaning his head back, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, “we’re sitting in Tony Stark’s living room. Like… the Tony Stark. Kinda makes my old apartment look like a cardboard box, huh?”

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I mean, your apartment doesn’t have a robot butler.”

“Hey, I don’t see that thing anywhere,” he shot back, eyes scanning the room like the robot might appear if he stared hard enough. “And for the record, I could totally get one of those voice-activated smart speakers. Same thing, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because a smart speaker definitely knows how to mix drinks and rebuild Iron Man suits.”

“Okay, fair,” he conceded, his fingers drumming on his thigh. “But I bet I could teach Siri to fetch a beer. It’s all about persistence.”

You shook your head, leaning back into the absurdly soft cushions. Silence settled, comfortable and familiar. Scott let out a long, contented sigh, his arm resting on the back of the couch, fingers close enough to brush your shoulder. He looked… at ease, which was rare. Usually, he was fidgeting, cracking jokes, or explaining—poorly—why his latest scheme was actually genius.

“It’s weird, huh?” he murmured, breaking the quiet. “Being here. Like… I’m waiting for Tony to walk in, start lecturing me about scratching his floors or something. Where the hell did he even go anyway?”

“No clue. Didn’t say.” You looked over at him, grinning. You reached over, your fingers brushing his. “He’d probably yell at you for putting your feet on his million-dollar couch.”

“What? Nah. I’ll clean it..” He grinned, that boyish, mischievous grin that always made your heart skip. “You know, after we ‘make it ours’ a few times.”

You swatted his chest, and he made an exaggerated “oof” noise, clutching his heart. “Abuse. I’m reporting this. Right to HR.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure there’s no HR department for superheroes.” You tease, moving one of your legs to straddle his lap.

—

“pleasepleaseplease.” Scott begs, eyes glossing over with pure arousal. His hips are grinding upwards, creating delicious friction between your clothed crotches.

You’d been sucking a big purple mark into his neck for the last five minutes, tongue occasionally darting out in to soothe the skin. “Mmm, I know.. Poor baby.” Your left hand was around his neck, not cutting off the air but enough to send shoots of pleasure to Scott’s dick that made him forget all about Stark’s expensive couch.

You could feel Scott squirming underneath you, desperate and needy. His cock was leaking steadily, the head an angry red, glistening with pre-cum. The sound of the zipper of his jeans being undone echoed through the expansive room, that you prayed was soundproof.

As his erection sprang free, you wrapped your other hand around the shaft, pumping it slowly. Scott inhaled sharply, head lolling back against the couch cushion. You rubbed your thumb over the slit, feeling him throb in your palm.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he groaned, hips bucking upward to meet your strokes. "I've been dying for your hands on me all damn day. I was kinda scared that freaky robo-butler was gonna appear.”

You swore you could feel Scott's heart pounding against your fingertips as the hand that was stroking him drifted higher, tracing the lines of his chest, the ridges of his abs. His skin was hot to the touch, flushed with arousal and exertion.

"Hell of a body you've got here," you praised, leaning in to press your lips to the hollow of his throat, next to where your other hand was gripping lightly. "Guess being a superhero agrees with you."

You watched, transfixed, as Scott's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open in a silent moan. His cheeks flushed a deep pink and his chest rose with each shaky breath.

"God..." Scott panted, his voice ragged. "I need... fuck, I need..." He seemed unable to finish the thought, too consumed by the pleasure coursing through him.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. He used the leverage to pull you harder against him, grinding your clothed dick against his own erection. You could feel every thick, throbbing inch of him, hot and insistent, separated from you only by the thin fabric of your pants and his boxers.

"Need it s’bad..” Scott whimpered, hips rolling upwards urgently as he chased more friction.

Your hand tightened every so slightly, enough to extract a whimper from the man’s neck.

"Tell me what you need," you murmured, voice low and tinged with amusement. "I want to hear you say it."

Scott shuddered against you, another pathetic whine catching in his throat.

"I need..." He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "I need your cock," he said at last, his voice just above a whisper. It wasn't enough, not nearly.

Scott's hands slid up your back, fingers splaying out across your shoulder blades. He used the grip to pull you closer, until your chests were flush and your legs tangled and your lips a hair's breadth apart.

"Please," he breathed, and it sounded like a prayer. A plea. Begging. "Fuck, please... I need your cock so bad right now. I'm aching for it."

"Desperate much?" You teased, lips curling into a smirk as you gazed down at the desperation etched across his face. Your fingers tightened around his neck ever so slightly, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.

Despite the roughness of your grip, you leaned in to brush your lips against Scott's in a feather-light caress. It was barely a kiss, a whisper of a touch, but it made him shiver all the same. He chased after your mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to capture your lips in a proper kiss.

"Not desperate," he countered, voice low and breathless. "Just really fucking horny. For you."

In a flash, you flipped him over onto his stomach, face pressed into the back couch cushion.

You felt Scott tense beneath you for a split second before he relaxed, his body opening up to you. It was incredible, the way he could let go, could trust you completely. With a smooth thrust of your hips, you pushed inside, feeling his tight heat envelop you inch by excruciating inch.

"Aahh! Oh fuck..." Scott groaned, fingers digging into the expensive couch cushion, nails leaving crescent indents. His eyes squeeze shut as his body adjusted to the sudden invasion.

You paused for a moment, allowing Scott to get used to the feel of you inside him. Your hand snakes up to his throat, squeezing once again. “Mmm, Yeah.. So good for me. This cunt’s gripping me so well..”

You pulled back slowly, the drag of Scott's tight walls making your vision haze over with lust. Then with a sharp snap of your hips, you thrust forward again, burying yourself balls-deep inside him.

"Oh god, yes!" Scott cried out, back arching off the couch as pleasure crashed through him. His hands scrabbled at your back, nails digging in, as he tried to pull you impossibly closer.

You set a hard, fast rhythm, pounding into Scott's now eager and pliant body. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mixing with Scott's increasingly loud moans and cries.

You leaned down to capture Scott's lips in a searing kiss, swallowing his desperate moans. Your tongue delved into his mouth, tangling with his own, drunk on the taste of him.

You could feel his cock throbbing against your belly, leaking pre-cum and leaving sticky trails on your skin.

You break the kiss to growl in Scott's ear. "Gonna fill this hole. You feel so good around me.. I’m not gonna last. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy you are..”

The soft little noises he makes, the breathy cries that drive you fucking crazy...

The couch creaks and shakes, the expensive leather sticking to Scott’s bare knees. “Sh-Shiit. I ca-I can’t take it.” He’s babbling now, he can barely form a coherent thought.

"Fuck, you're... ungh... you're going to make me... make me...!" His words dissolved into a scream of ecstasy as his climax crashed over him, prostate clamping down around your cock.

Scott thrashed beneath you, back bowing as his orgasm ripped through him, small pathetic ropes of cum shooting of his dick, to stain the leather beneath him. He was vaguely aware of the filthy wet spot spreading across the couch, the scent of his climax heavy in the air. “Please.. Please cum in me. I need it. Need you. Now. Pleaseplease..”

You chuckled, pleasured expression spread across your face. “G-Good boy. I’m.. I’m gonna cum.. Fuck..” You grunted. “Shit… Cumming..” You shoved him down into the couch by the back of his neck and burying your dick inside his hole, filling him with thick spurts of semen.

“Shit… My good boy. Took me so well. So perfect.”

—

The elevator chimed, and neither of you paid it any mind. Probably just one of Stark’s weird AI gadgets doing maintenance or something. Scott was mid-rant about how he could totally pull off driving an Audi R8 “It’s basically the same as my van, just… shinier.” when a voice drawled from behind the couch, dripping with amusement.

“Well, isn’t this adorable?”

You both froze. Scott’s eyes widened comically, his head snapping around so fast you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

There, in all his casually smug glory, stood Tony Stark. Very much here. A day early. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking entirely too entertained.

Scott’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “Uh—”

Tony’s smirk grew. “Really, Lang? My couch?” He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “And here I thought you had some class.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, sinking lower into the couch. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you could merge with the cushions and disappear.

Tony just shook his head, tutting under his breath. “Unbelievable. Out of all the couches in the world…” He turned, sauntering back toward the elevator.

[wayneskluv]

MASTERLIST ! — fluff ; ꩜ — nsfw ; ★ — angst ; ִ ࣪𖤐 — request ; ᡣ𐭩 — f!reader ; ➸ — m!reader ; ꔛ — gn!reader ; ᯤ

DC COMICS ୨୧

wonder women’s daughter x batfam ➸ ; pt1

jason todd ;

headcannons ꩜ ᯤ boyfriend!jason ; bestfriend!jason ; brother!jason ; rival!jason

don’t call me baby ִ ࣪𖤐 ᯤ; you were never supposed to move on. (post death!jason)

sorry baby, just needed you to shut up ᯤ ; after listening to you ramble, he kisses you to shut you up.

peraltiago!au ➸ ; jason todd x f!reader — pt1

dick grayson ;

headcannons ᯤ boyfriend!dick ; bestfriend!dick ; brother!dick ; rival!dick

tim drake ; coming soon

bruce wayne ; coming soon

harley quinn ;

and they were roommates ➸ ; roommate!harley quinn x f!reader — they’re both in love with eachother but wayyyy too blind to see it.

barbara gordon ; coming soon

jon kent ; coming soon

roy harper ; coming soon

clark kent ; coming soon

bart allen ; coming soon

rachel roth ; coming soon

alfred pennyworth ; coming soon

poison ivy ; coming soon

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE ᯓ

wanda maximoff ; coming soon

pietro maximoff ; coming soon

peter parker ; coming soon

tony stark ; coming soon

steve rogers ; coming soon

wade wilson ; coming soon

scott lang ;

scott with a choking kink ꔛ ★ ; porn w a little bit of plot. you fuck on tony’s couch and forget he has camera’s..

natasha romanoff ;

it’s possible she misses you ᯤ ; nat shows up at your door drunk & she finally tells you why she broke up with you.

agatha harkness ;

ᡣ𐭩 — agatha x wife!reader (kissing & mature themes) ➸

HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

sirius black ;

cat got your tongue? ᯤ ; sirius found a cat whilst on a walk — you tease him about it.

james potter ; coming soon

remus lupin ; coming soon

regulus black ; coming soon

lily evans ; coming soon

STRANGER THINGS ⋆.˚

steve harrington ; coming soon

billy hargrove ; coming soon

robin buckley ; coming soon

OTHER ☆

simon ‘ghost’ riley ;

use your words, love (implied!smut) ᯤ

spencer reid ;

a bet (implied!smut) ᯤ ; caught leaving his hotel room — featuring: derek morgan!

apologies (kissing) ᯤ; its no secret you two hate eachother, but when you apologise, something changes.

pretty boy got laid (implied!smut) ➸ ; derek is always teasing spencer about his love life, but when you come in late, he has a whole other reason to tease spencer — featuring: derek morgan!

abby scuito ; coming soon

emily prentiss ; coming soon

alice cullen ; coming soon

edward cullen ; coming soon

bella swan ; coming soon