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The moment you confessed to them that you've never had an orgasm, they were scandalized. You were a superhero like them, busy with saving people and never prioritizing your own well being. But never experiencing an orgasm? That was beyond them.
Diana and Bruce shared a quick look, too many years knowing each other, they already knew what the other was thinking. Then Bruce nudged Clark with his knee, making him understand what was going on through their minds. You stood there in the middle, drinking the last drops of your whiskey in Bruce's manor, wondering what was going on.
The silence stretched just long enough to make your stomach twist.
Clark was the first to speak, the same tone he used when talking someone off a ledge.
“You’ve really never…?” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.
You felt heat crawl up your neck. “I mean, I’ve been busy. There’s always another crisis. Another city. Another planet on fire. It just… never seemed important.”
Diana set her glass down with deliberate gentleness. When she looked at you, her gaze was steady, almost tender, but there was fire underneath it.
“Pleasure is not a luxury,” she said quietly. “It is a birthright. And you have denied yourself yours for far too long.”
Bruce hadn’t moved from his armchair, but the way he watched you now felt different, more predatory than the calculated calm he usually wore. He tilted his head.
“You trust us with your life every time we go out there,” he said. “You let us stand at your back, let us catch you when you fall. And yet you won’t let us take care of this?”
Your mouth went dry. “This is different.”
“Is it?” Clark asked, stepping closer. Not crowding, just enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Or is it just easier to tell yourself it’s different so you don’t have to admit you’re scared?”
“I’m not scared,” you snapped, too fast.
Diana smiled. “Then prove it.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Bruce cut in smoothly.
“We’re not asking you to beg. We’re not asking you to strip your armor in front of the entire League.” His voice dropped. “We’re offering to take care of you.”
Your pulse was loud in your ears. You looked between them. Diana’s open, almost reverent hunger; Clark’s earnest, gentle intensity; Bruce’s dark, patient certainty. And something inside you cracked.
“I... this is insane,” you whispered. “We work together. We’re supposed to be professionals.”
Diana stepped forward until the toes of her boots brushed yours. She didn’t touch you yet, but you could smell the faint rose-and-steel scent of her.
“Professionals save lives,” she murmured. “Lovers keep each other alive in every way that matters. And you, my darling, have been half-dead for years without knowing it.”
Clark reached out slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. When you didn’t, his knuckles grazed your cheek, like he was touching something fragile and priceless.
“Let us show you,” he said. “Let us make you feel good. Just once. If you hate it, we stop. But don’t keep punishing yourself for wanting something human.”
Your breath hitched.
Bruce finally stood. Moved behind you, not touching, just close enough that you felt the shadow of him, the low timbre of his voice brushing the back of your neck.
“You already know we’d never hurt you,” he said. “You already know we’d stop the second you said no. So the only question left is whether you trust us enough to say yes.”
Your hands were shaking. You clenched them into fists.
“I shouldn’t,” you breathed.
“But you want to,” Diana finished for you, soft and sure.
Silence again.
Then, so quiet you almost didn’t hear your own voice:
“…Okay.”
Clark exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years.
Diana’s smile turned radiant. She cupped your face with both hands and pressed the softest kiss to your forehead first, then the corner of your mouth.
“Good girl,” she whispered against your lips.
Bruce’s hands finally settled on your hips from behind. Clark leaned in and kissed you properly then, achingly tender, like he was memorizing every second of your surrender.
When he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was wrecked.
“We’re going to take our time with you,” he promised. “You’re not allowed to think about saving anyone tonight. Not even yourself. Just feel.”
Diana’s fingers slid into your hair, tugging your head back gently so she could kiss the column of your throat.
“Say it again,” she murmured against your pulse. “Tell us yes.”
You closed your eyes. Let the last wall crumble.
“Yes,” you whispered.
Bruce’s grip tightened, just enough.
“Then come upstairs,” he said, low and final. “We have all night to show you what you’ve been missing.”
Clark got rid of your clothes slowly at the same time Diana and Bruce undressed each other, they even shared a kiss in the moment, making you wonder for how much time they've been doing this. Clark trapped your lips in a slow kiss, making your belly flutter. Then you feel another pair of hands in your waist, rubbing circles around it. Diana kisses your throat as Clark slides his tongue in your mouth. And then Bruce appears, taking one of your breasts in his mouth as his hands kneads your ass.
Your kneels buckle from the stimulation, too many hands and mouths in you, you don't even know who's doing what. Diana realizes, pulling back just enough to show all the marks she left on your neck.
"Lets take her to bed," she suggests with a smile.
Bruce takes your hand, placing you in the middle of the bed. All three of them stay up for a moment, looking down at you.
"Please, stop staring," you tell them, hiding your face in your palms.
"Uh, uh. None of that," Clark says immediately pulling your hands away. "We're admiring how gorgeous you look like this."
Clark is the first to move. He climbs onto the mattress, slow and deliberate, settling between your legs. His palms slide up the insides of your thighs, spreading you open with reverent care.
“Already so wet for us. You don’t even know how long we’ve wanted this.”
Diana kneels to your left, graceful as ever, trailing her fingertips along your ribs, then up to circle one nipple until it pebbles painfully tight. Bruce mirrors her on your right, but his touch is heavier, possessive without being cruel. He cups the underside of your breast, thumb brushing the peak before he leans down and takes it into his mouth again, sucking slow and deep.
You arch without meaning to. A broken little sound escapes you.
Diana laughs softly against your ear. “That’s it, sweet girl. Let us hear you.”
They’re everywhere. Clark’s warm breath ghosting over your clit, Diana’s lips at your jaw, Bruce’s teeth grazing your nipple just enough to sting. You’re drowning already and they haven’t even started.
Clark looks up the length of your body, blue eyes almost black with want. “We want to play with you exactly the way we want,” he says, voice low and careful. “Everything we’ve been dreaming about doing to this perfect body. But we need your yes, baby.”
You swallow. Nod once. It’s not enough.
“Words,” Bruce orders quietly, lifting his head. His hand slides down your stomach, fingers splaying over your mound without dipping lower.
“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, play with me however you want.”
Bruce’s gaze drops to where your ass is pressed into the sheets. His voice goes darker, rougher.
“I’ve wanted this ass since the first time you bent over a console in the Watchtower.” His palm smooths over one cheek, then the other, kneading slow and deliberate. “Can I play with it, sweetheart? Spread it open while they take care of your pretty cunt?”
Heat floods your face. You’ve never let anyone there. But the way he’s asking, the way all three of them are watching you with nothing but patience and filthy promise.
“Yes,” you whisper. “You can… you can have it.”
“Good girl,” Diana purrs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Such a brave, sweet thing for us.”
Clark lowers his head first. His tongue is hot, flat, dragging from your entrance all the way up to your clit in one long, devastating lick. You cry out, hips jerking. Diana doesn’t give you time to recover, she leans down too, her tongue joining his, softer but no less relentless. They lick you together—messy, uncoordinated at first, then finding a rhythm that makes your eyes roll back.
Clark’s tongue circles your clit while Diana pushes inside you, fucking you with curling strokes. Their mouths slide against each other over your soaked folds, sharing you, tasting you, groaning into your cunt like it’s the best thing they’ve ever had.
You’re shaking. Hands scrabbling at the sheets. “Oh god, please it's too much—”
Bruce’s voice cuts through the haze. “Not yet, baby.”
Before you can protest, strong hands grip your hips. Bruce flips you in one smooth motion onto your stomach, then up onto your knees. Your cheek presses into the pillow, ass in the air, thighs spread wide. Vulnerable. Exposed.
“Look at this,” Bruce breathes, almost reverent. His palms spread you open, thumbs pulling your cheeks apart until you feel the cool air on your most private place. “Perfect little hole. Been waiting for me.”
You whimper into the sheets.
Diana shifts beneath you, slides down so her face is level with your dripping cunt again. She hooks two fingers inside you without warning, curling them against that spot that makes your toes curl.
At the same moment, Bruce leans in.
His tongue is hot, wet, filthy. Circling your rim slow and deliberate, then pressing flat against it, licking broad stripes over the tight ring of muscle. You sob. The dual sensation: Diana’s fingers fucking you deep and steady, Bruce’s tongue pushing insistently at your ass is too much. You’re going to come. You’re going to shatter.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” Clark says suddenly. He’s kneeling in front of you now, cock heavy and flushed dark in his fist. He strokes himself, precome beading at the tip.
You lift your head, dazed, lips parted.
“Want to feel your mouth while they make you come. Can I, baby? Can I slide my cock between those pretty lips and let you suck me while Bruce eats your ass and Diana fingers your cunt?”
Your mouth waters at the sight of him. So thick, so hard, the head glistening. You nod frantically.
“Yes! Please, yes.”
Clark guides himself to your mouth. You open for him immediately, tongue flattening under the head as he pushes in slow. He doesn’t thrust, just feeds you inch after inch until your lips stretch wide and your throat flutters around him.
“Good girl,” he groans. “Just like that. Take what you need.”
Behind you, Bruce growls against your skin. His tongue presses harder, finally breaching you, just the tip, just enough to make you see white. Diana adds a third finger, stretching you, pumping faster, curling relentlessly against your g-spot.
You’re moaning around Clark’s cock, drool slicking your chin, hips rocking helplessly between Diana’s hand and Bruce’s mouth.
“That’s it,” Diana whispers, voice dark and velvet. “Let go for us, darling. Come all over my fingers while Bruce tongues your tight little ass and Clark fills your mouth.”
"Fuck fuck fuck, wait. I-I feel weird," you tell them, muscles tightening. Clark just huffs a laugh, feeding you his cock once again.
The orgasm rips through you like a shockwave. Your cunt clamps down on Diana’s fingers, pulsing, gushing. Your ass flutters around the tip of Bruce’s tongue. You scream around Clark’s cock, muffled and desperate, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.
They don’t stop.
Clark holds your head gently, letting you ride it out on his length. Diana keeps fucking you through the aftershocks, slow and deep. Bruce laps lazily at your rim, soothing now, praising you in low murmurs against your skin.
When the tremors finally ease, Clark pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop. You gasp, panting, face wet with tears and spit and your own slick.
Bruce kisses the small of your back. “Beautiful,” he says quietly. “So fucking beautiful.”
Diana slides her fingers free, brings them to your lips. “Taste yourself, sweet girl.”
You suck obediently, eyes fluttering closed at the tangy sweetness.
Clark strokes your cheek. “We’re nowhere near done with you.”
Bruce’s hand smooths over your ass again, possessive. “Not even close.”
Diana leans down, kissing you slow and filthy, tasting Clark on your tongue.
“Rest for a minute,” she murmurs against your lips. “Then we’re going to fill you up properly. Until you forget there was ever a time you didn’t know what it felt like to come so hard you see stars.”
You shiver.
And despite how wrecked you already are, despite how sensitive and overstimulated every inch of you feels, you feel yourself clench around nothing at the promise.
“Yes, please,” you whisper.
Three sets of dark, adoring eyes meet yours.
“Good girl.” You don't even know which one told you that.
Bruce, actually being genuine and concerned: why are you still single
Jason, offended: i know you did not just say that
Jason: you? of all people?
Jason: being gotham’s most eligible bachelor for 30 years straight isn’t a compliment
Jason: the public only votes for you ‘cause they have daddy issues and they like silver foxes
Jason: but youre not even a silver fox anymore, youre an arctic fox
Jason: no ones’s lining up for your wrinkly ass
Jason: god forbid they find out youre a furry too like damn
Bruce:
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Talia al Ghul, watching them from the window, covered in blood after taking over the LOA so that she, Bruce, and Damian can ride off to the sunset together:
Selina Kyle, next to her, holding Grace Kelly's $38.8 million Cartier ring as an engagement ring to Bruce:
Harvey Dent, in therapy for Bruce:
Superman, rearranging the stars to make a Batman/Bruce constellation:
Wonder Woman, picking out wedding dresses (for Bruce):
Hal Jordan:
Hal Jordan: what
Hal Jordan: im not in love with mr dark and brooding
Hal Jordan:
Hal Jordan, screeching at the other Green Lanterns to stay away from Gotham because Bruce didnt want anyone messing with it:
Ra’s and Joker, dead, still pining, but mostly dead:
