008

Bruce Wayne loves to call you his wife.

“My wife”. His wife. You. His.

Those two words just taste too sweet in his mouth and roll perfectly on his tongue. 

He uses that term on those cozy mornings, when his body still aches, the sunlight is barely welcomed into the room, and your naked bodies are touching. The word “wife” comes out of his mouth like a sigh, like a secret poorly kept, right above your lips. Because it is not a secret that Bruce is devoted to you entirely; everyone knows, but there are people who simply choose to ignore it.

That’s Bruce’s favorite moment to call you his—whenever someone seems to not understand the term “his wife”.

It usually happens in galas. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, forever the best dressed, will always talk to everyone in the room. Bruce will be the one greeting new people while you will be starting simple conversations with the ones you had already met in previous galas.

Most people know their place—Mrs. Wayne is clearly off the market—but there is always at least one man who tries to shoot his shot. And Bruce Wayne always notices.

He notices when the man steps closer and invades your personal space. Not close enough for you to feel his breath, but at an uncomfortable distance that is considered inappropriate. 

You’re never a damsel in distress; you know how to deal with people and you’re quick to remind them of their place. But, for your husband, this is the best part of the night, so you let him mark his territory.

He walks towards you and the man, positioning himself to your left, and his right hand lands in your lower back. Bruce’s smile is somehow arrogant, full of pride and satisfaction. And it is in that moment when he finally gets to say his favourite words.

“I’ve seen you’ve finally met my wife.”

Bruce’s voice is polite and professional, but the word “wife” in particular is territorial, and your husband uses it like a trophy. 

Yes, he is the lucky one to have you and be married to you. And you could fall to your knees right in that moment, but you stay there, with a satisfied smile, enjoying your husband's touch and watching how the man apologizes and moves on to another person. 

You love being Bruce Wayne’s wife and he loves it even more.

A/N: Tomorrow I have my very last exam and I need to pass, so wish me luck. Follow for more :3

꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ knight!bruce wayne x princess!reader, fluff, this has nothing to do with dark knights of steel, he’s just so pretty as a knight

knight!bruce wayne collection

The castle halls are polished and hushed. Sunlight trickles in from the enormous windows, breaking across the mosaic tiles, making it rain color. 

Bruce deepens the kiss, his hand cupping your jaw, the other sliding down to your hip slowly as if he’s trying to hold back. Your hands rest against his chest, feeling the muscle that was usually hidden under all the armor he wore. Only you could see him like this.

Well, you and anyone who walks through this hall.

He pulls back, breath coming out in uneven pants. His eyes trace you. Your lips are parted, your eyes wide and eager for more. His thumb brushes your cheek.

"We shouldn't be doing this out here," he mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"We can do whatever we want," you reply with a grin. After all, he's your personal guard. 

okay i always think about this so i will rant under it!!

talia’s whitewashing have been a problem but i think the problem is not her having light skin, because arabs can be pale. pale skinned arabs do exist!! the problem with her skin color is that when she helps the plot in a good way, for example when she helps batman, she has pale skin. when she is a villain in the story she has darker skin. this is actually what disturbs me. not her having pale skin or dark skin, i am fine with both,, but i get sick when i see her skin color change according to when she is “good” or “evil”

arabs can be pale. what they cannot do is shapeshift ten shades darker or lighter at any given moment just so a racist comic book writer can decide where to drop them on the spectrum between their dehumanizing fantasies of the evil irredeemable terrorist and the lily-white exotic love interest.

—————————————————————————

“sweetheart, i need you to lay down”

“not— mwa— done— mwa”

roy just sighed, a small smile on his lips despite himself as your lips kept covering his face with lipstick prints of your lips. he needed you to lie down, he needed to take care of you— especially since you were drunk out of your mind after a girls night out 

once you gave him one last, big kiss on the tip of his nose with a ‘mwa!’, you leaned back and giggled with a big smile. “there! all better” 

his smile softened from the sight of you— cheeks flushed from the booze, hair messy and lipstick everywhere but on your lips, the same lips that shone that same smile roy could stare at for hours. 

“now can you lay down?” his voice softened without realizing, but you just shook your head with a ‘uh uh’ and slid your arms around his neck to try pulling him into a kiss

it took everything in roy’s power to lean away. “uh uh, babe. not when you’re drunk” he gently took his arms around your neck while you let out a whine. “royyyyyy”

“nope” he knelt down and slowly took off your heels. it made you huff but nevertheless, lie on the bed while roy was busy taking off your heels with those gentle, calloused hands of his that you loved 

after taking the heels out and getting back up to see you doing what he asked, roy bit his bottom lip to hold his smile back from turning into a smirk. you looked so adorable, arms crossed and lips pouting because of his refusal of your kiss

“hey” roy spoke quietly, slightly hovering over you to brush a strand from your face with the lightest touch. “i’ll give you as many as you want”

your eyes perked up and a dazed smile formed back on your lips immediately. “really?”

“tomorrow, when you’re sober”

“…not fair”

he placed a kiss on your forehead. “that’s my girl”

little did roy know, you’d hold onto his promise even after the booze left your system. cue the pecks of kisses he woke up to in the morning

—————————————————————————

masterlist!

(a/n: first time writing for roy (esp since everyone had been asking me for so long), kinda nervous cause i feel like this is ooc ugh i had another plot in mind but i backed out and got too scared LOL)

main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @st4rl1ghtgrays0n @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae @darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore (tags are open)

thinking about bruce eating you out...

tags — 18+ minors dni | f!reader, oral (f! receiving) fingering, kitchen sex, cum eating? (0.6k wc)

bruce wayne x reader, fluff, i had young bruce in mind while writing but its not mentioned, based on a req on my old account :)

It had been a long day and you were ready to call it a night, curled up in your fiancé’s arms while he raked his fingers through your hair and pressed languid kisses to your temple.

Unfortunately your fiancé just happened to be Bruce Wayne. Who was literally Batman.

So the idea of curling up in his arms after work seemed nearly impossible. He had left especially early today due to a mission with the Justice League and you were left at Wayne Enterprises to finish up the rest of the work before you could come home.

It was now around ten when you pulled yourself out of the shower. You grabbed one of Bruce’s old university sweatshirts and pulled it over your tired body before picking up your phone from the bed so you could text Bruce that you were home.

Hey just got home. Getting ready for bed now, hope you’re being safe!

His response was immediate.

Did you eat?

I’m tired :(

Eat.

Even while texting he was so broody. You rolled your eyes and grabbed a pair of shorts before trudging downstairs to have dinner because you knew Bruce would find out from Alfred that you hadn’t had dinner and you would never hear the end of it.

You fixed yourself a plate and sat down in the little breakfast nook at the corner of kitchen. Alfred soon came inside and gave you a quick nod before he grabbed fresh towels from the linen closet. Your intent gaze stayed on him as you watched him make his way towards the secret door that led to the batcave.

Before he could leave, you called out his name.

“Is Bruce back?” You asked.

“Yes Miss,” Alfred replied. “Along with the League. Master Bruce got injured and he refuses to stay, he’s insisting on going back.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed in defeat.

“I’m afraid we might need your assistance,” he added.

“Of course, he’s a big baby after all,” you gave him a small smile and got up from your seat, following him to the batcave.

The second you entered through the door, you heard it.

Bruce’s voice booming along the walls of the batcave, making it echo. He was mad about something that’s why he was yelling, if he was just upset he would brood.

“Batman we cannot go after them tonight,” Clark said.

“We can’t let them get away, I put a tracker in the van we can follow them,” Bruce argued and took off his cowl.

“Bruce you’re injured,” Diana gritted through her teeth. “Where is your rationality?”

“This is me being rational!” Bruce yelled, smashing his fist down on the table.

“Okay,” you announced your presence and everyone turned to look at you.

“Thank you,” Barry mouthed from behind Diana who you watched visibly relax.

“What are you doing here? Did you have dinner?” Bruce asked, voice turning a lot softer but still clipped.

You raised your eye at him in response.

“Honey please,” he tried again in a much softer voice.

Your eyes landed over the gash on his shoulder that was tearing through his suit telling you just how deep it was because his suit could withstand a lot of things and weapons. He was clutching his hand on his bicep which indicated just how much pain he was in because Bruce Wayne would never let anyone know how painful an injury was.

His scars were left for you to trace and worry about when he finally slipped into your bed at night. Yours to kiss and clean up as he sat back and watched your annoyed expression with amused eyes.

“Sit,” you ordered and approached him.

“I’m fi-” he began but you were quicker as you grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards the bat computer.

You whirled the chair around and pushed him on it before taking a towel from Alfred. Behind you, you could hear Barry let out a low whistle.

“You’re not leaving again tonight, whatever happened you can deal with it tomorrow. Like you said, you put a tracker in the van, it will still be there tomorrow. Okay?” You firmly said and put your hands over his shoulders, trying to catch his eyes.

“Okay,” he murmured and rested his head against your stomach with his arms now wrapping around your knees.

“I think we should leave,” Barry whispered to someone but you were too busy peeling off Bruce’s cape to look at him.

“Uh yeah,” Bruce raised his head and looked at his team members –his uninjured arm still wrapped around your waist with the side of his head still stuck to your body. “Let’s continue the mission tomorrow. We can monitor them for today.”

“Good,” Diana nodded her head. “We shall meet tomorrow then,” she finished and turned around to leave the batcave.

“See ya, Bats,” Barry said with a salute and before you could blink, he was gone.

“Take care, Bruce,” Clark said at last with a small smile on his face like he knew a secret no one else did.

“Yeah thanks,” Bruce grunted in acknowledgment and turned towards you again, fully grabbing you now so he could push his face into your torso.

“Bye, Clark,” you smiled towards Clark who gave you a smile and a nod in return before he flew out of the cave.

You fully peeled Bruce’s cape back and took off the top half of his suit so you could look at the wound on his shoulder. It was an angry red, still leaking blood down to his elbow.

A hiss left your mouth at the sight and you quickly dragged Bruce again towards the infirmary. And like the obedient fiancé he was, he didn’t say a word.

You pushed him on one of the medical beds and grabbed some antiseptic liquid along with a few cotton balls to dab on the wound.

“You know I can handle myself,” Bruce murmured.

“No Bruce, taking a shower doesn’t make stab wounds disappear,” you chided.

“What if you join me? That certainly would help,” he teased.

“Sorry I already took one. I’m all out of showers for the night,” you replied.

“What about kisses? Are you out of those too?”

“Yes.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at that and pulled you towards him until you were perched sideways on his lap.

“Bruce you’re bleeding!” You protested.

“Kiss it better,” he said.

“You were just yelling at people and now you want me to kiss you?” You quipped with a roll of your eyes.

“People who aren’t my wife,” Bruce corrected.

“Technically I’m not your wife either.”

“Sweetheart please,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve had a really long day can you please kiss me.”

“Since you asked oh so nicely,” you grinned before finally connecting your lips with your fiancé’s.

Bruce hummed lowly against your lips, causing you to smile. His forehead was against yours as his nose kept bumping with yours each time he opened his mouth to kiss you harder.

Before his hands could reach up your waist to your chest, you pulled away.

“Okay, you’re still injured,” you said and hopped off his lap, taking your earlier place in between his thighs.

Bruce sighed in response but didn’t say anything as you cleaned up his wound and wrapped a gauze over it. He didn’t even wince or flinch as you stitched up his wound with years of precision and you wondered just how used to this life had he gotten.

When you were done, Bruce took off his suit fully and grabbed his normal clothes from the locker before he went to take a quick shower in the gym’s bathroom. You secured his gauze with a waterproof wrap so he could be careful while under the water.

He came back a few minutes later, dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of matching sweatpants. This time, Bruce was the one to grab your wrist and drag you out of the batcave. Normally after a patrol or a mission, he would spend hours down here reviewing everything but today you guessed he was just tired.

You two made a quick stop in the kitchen as per your request and you grabbed a tub of ice cream from the fridge along with a spoon before Bruce practically carried you towards your bedroom.

“I’m so tired,” you groaned and plopped down on the chaise lounge in the bedroom.

“Let’s go to bed then angel,” Bruce urged and cleared the bed of the fort of a million pillows you kept on it every day.

“Come here,” you beckoned him on the lounge with your finger.

He approached you with an exaggerated sigh and plopped down next to you, immediately putting your legs on his lap.

You opened the tub of ice cream and grabbed a spoonful of it, waving it in front of your fiancé’s face.

“We haven’t had dinner,” you murmured, offering him the chocolate ice cream.

“Ice cream is dinner?” He asked with narrow eyes but put his mouth over the spoon anyway.

“Do you want to face Alfred right now?”

“You’re right,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to your temple before resting his arm around your shoulder.

You spent the next ten minutes feeding your fiancé and yourself the entire tub of ice cream before he finally had enough and slumped against you. A giggle left your lips as you watched Bruce’s face resting on your shoulder with a little bit of ice cream at the corner of his mouth.

With a small push to his good shoulder, you finally got him up enough to straddle his lap which immediately woke him up.

“Hey,” he whispered, hands immediately coming to your bare thighs.

“You’ve got something,” you smiled and leaned forward to lick the ice cream from the corner of his mouth.

“So do you,” he drawled and captured your mouth in a searing kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He tasted like mint and chocolate as you bit his bottom lip then ran your tongue over it to smooth it over.

Before it could get even more heated, you pulled away.

“Come on, I’m tired,” you yawned, getting off his lap.

Bruce shook his head but couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face as he stood up. You two made your way towards the en suite bathroom to quickly brush your teeth before Bruce finally pulled you in bed.

He turned off the lights –leaving only the little night light on for you. The silk duvet was draped over your body when you felt his chest flush against your back, radiating much needed heat.

Bruce’s arms came around your torso next. He held you in a tight grasp –too afraid to lose you even in his sleep. You intertwined your fingers with his over your stomach and closed your eyes, finally letting the stress of the day put you to sleep.

“Good night sweetheart,” Bruce mumbled sleepily and pressed a kiss to your head.

“Good night,” you whispered back.

writing for big papa

series masterlist

vampire!jason will only drink your blood if he can worship you simultaneously. because this isn't about him — it can't all be about him. it's about you.

you're giving him the very essence of your life so that he can remain strong. you're allowing him access to the the most important part of you. to the thing that you need to survive. he cannot take, and not give anything in return. he cannot drink and not show you how thankful he is. 

he'd spent an hour before this proving to you — to himself — that he can be soft. that he's so much more than the sharp fangs that can take your life. 

he'll lay you on your back. then, he'll explore your ankles, your knees, up your inner thighs with gentle lips and even gentler hands. he can be gentle. jason is gentle. then hungrily — because he can't help himself, your scent had been tempting him from the beginning — up your slit, sinking his tongue as deep inside you as he can. 

one orgasm for sure, maybe two (usually two) if jason is feeling particularly needy. he needs to get you ready, he does. 

he won't stop until your thighs are quivering around his ears, till your fingers are tugging on his hair, till your whines and pleads for him are so insistent that he slowly begins to believe that what he is doing to you is okay. his lips will meet every inch of exposed skin on the side of your neck next. his kisses are soft, barely pressing against you — he's unwilling to risk bruising before his fangs can inflict their violence upon your innocent skin.

he'll prop himself up over you, gazing at your face. your pretty face. eyes lidded and glassy, lips shining and bitten through from your own teeth. beautiful. he loves you so much. so much. he'll kiss you after that, seal his lips over yours. his tongue presses against the wall of your teeth, tasting you again, and allowing you to taste yourself on him. 

just the press of your lips will unlock a ferocity in him, will crumble his restraint so fast it's like he never had it. he'll nudge his tip against your entrance before sliding in halfway in one go. 

your soft gasp, followed by a happy whine, slides down jason's thoat. he's full of you. his entire being is consumed by you. it warms him, allows his hollow body to remember what it felt like to tingle. because your touch emulates that in him. the way your fingers trail his skin — solid and strong — and he can feel it. phantom goosebumps rise across the back of his neck, phantom mechanoreceptors call out to you, kissing your fingertips in return wherever they explore. a thank you for not thinking he disgusting, for not being afraid of him, for loving him enough that he can feel human again. 

he'll slide in the rest of the way, mumbling praising into your mouth. 

"feel so good for me, angel,"

"fuck — need you to stay still, baby, not gonna last," 

"wanna feel you like this forever, want you forever, please—"

it's slow. loving. hard thrusts angled juuuust right. right at the spot that has your eyes fluttering back, your mouth drying up, brain short-circuiting to the point that you forget you're supposed to be kissing jason back. 

only then. only then will jason tilt your head to the side, trailing his nose along your jugular and sinking his fangs as deep into your neck as they'll go. 

your reaction remains the same every time. muscles clenching and fluttering around his cock, squeezing him tight, pulling him impossibly deeper. your hand will always find his, fingers intertwining against the bed, one squeeze, two squeeze, three squeeze, i love you. 

jason drinks as his hips grind into you, no longer thrusting, just feeling, the pleasure you feel from his fangs is enough. it's just as addicting for you as it is for him, you even ask for him to drink from you more often despite jason's chagrin — the thought of causing you even an ounce of pain makes him feel sick. 

his free thumb will meet your clit, rubbing quick swipes around the nub until you come again, with him following right after. the relief is immediate, evident in the tiny whimpers that jason vibrates against your neck. he was already close to blowing his load against the bed when you had come on his tongue the first time. each grind of his hips against yours, each squeeze of his fingers on whatever part of your body they can reach, each lap of his tongue against your neck is a thank you and an apology all in one. 

when he pulls away, when his fangs finally retract from your skin, he'll keep his face buried in your neck. he'll keep his tongue pressed against the two tiny wounds, lapping at them. he tells himself it's to make sure his healing venom sticks, that it covers each crevice of the wound, but jason knows deep down he's being selfish. you almost always come again every time he does it, small shudders jittering up your spin, walls contracting around him still nestled deeeep inside you, chest arching into his. the excess blood from your neck wound explodes on his tongue from where it is pressed flat and he savours it because he believes this is the last time he'll ever get to taste you like this. he thinks the other shoe has to drop soon. 

it should.

you should run. 

but you dont. you never do. you stay. arms wound tightly around him, keeping him close. trusting. loving. you snuggle into him like jason didn't just have your life in his hands, as if he hadn't been that close to taking your life if he didn't have the restraint he does.

you stay afterwards. you always do. 

an: vamp!jason comeback on a random sunday in june??? yup!

#drabble.ᐟ ⸝⸝ post redemption!superboy prime ⸝⸝ riding ⸝⸝ nervous!clark ⸝⸝ smutty&mdni!! .

✦ masterlist　╱　dc masterlist　𓏼 ͜͜

the door to your apartment barely clicks shut before you’re on him like a starved dog, hands fisting in his shirt as you drag him down the hallway toward your bedroom like you’re done with all the polite bullshit. clark lets out a startled laugh, trying to play it cool even as his ears flush pink. he’s trying hard not to show just how turned on he is by being woman-handled like that. “i wasn’t gonna leave this time, i swear,” he mutters against your mouth, voice soft and just a little bit whiny, but you both know that’s a load of crap—he’s been pulling excuses for weeks. too scared to fuck you because well… for starters, he’s never done this before. and secondly he’s scared of hurting you. adorable, right?

you push him until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sits down hard, glasses slipping, and eyes wide as you peel your dress off in one smooth motion. black lace bra, matching panties. fuck, the way he stares makes heat pool low in your belly.

“jesus,” he mutters under his breath, hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know what the hell to do with them.

you straddle his lap fast, knees bracketing his hips, and grind down once just to feel him. “clark,” you breathe, already working his shirt open button by button and shoving it off those broad, tense shoulders. “i’ve been patient enough. you’re not backing out tonight.”

“yeah?” his voice comes out rougher than he probably means, trying to sound confident as his palms settle on your waist. “guess i finally came to my senses.” his fingers are warm against your skin, but you catch the slight tremble he’s trying to hide.

you smirk, grab his right hand, and drag it up until it cups your breast, pressing his palm firm against you. “like this,” you whisper, guiding him. “you’re not gonna break me, clark. i’m not made of glass.”

his breath hitches hard, but he squeezes anyway, thumb brushing over your nipple as you arch into it. he feels it pebble beneath his finger and you feel his cock twitch under you, thick and straining against his jeans already.

“you’re really sure?” he asks, voice low, trying to smirk even as his other hand stays hesitant. he wonders why there’s no crash course on how to fuck if you’ve got dormant powers and you’re too scared to get in bed with a lady because of them.“i’m… kinda new to the whole ‘not accidentally leveling a building during sex’ thing.” he leans in like he’s got this, kissing the side of your neck, then lower, lips brushing the swell of your tit while his fingers explore more boldly now that you’ve shown him it’s okay. reassurance is important with a guy who’s done the shit he has.

you moan softly and roll your hips again, feeling how hard he is. “take my bra off.”

his hands shake just a little undoing the clasp, but he manages, letting the lace fall away. he stares for a second, then both hands are on you, squeezing, thumbs circling your nipples until they’re tight and aching. when you gasp his name he gains just a little bit of confidence, enough to lean in and suck one into his mouth, tongue flicking wet and hot. “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters against your skin, voice rough as hell. “been thinking about this… a lot.”

“yeah?” you grind down harder on the thick bulge in his pants, feeling him throb like he’s about to burst any minute. “you’ve been jerking off thinking about me, haven’t you?” it was a lucky shot, but the way he chuckles nervously and his face flushes tells you you hit the nail on the head with it.

his ears burn red but he tries to play it cocky. like he doesn’t feel like a teenage virgin. “i— maybe.” he squeezes harder when you moan, hips bucking up once like he can’t help it. “can you blame me? look at you.”

you push him flat on his back, working his belt open fast and shoving his jeans and boxers down his thighs. his cock springs up, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip, veins standing out along the shaft. “shit— you’re big,” you murmur appreciatively, wrapping your hand around him and giving one slow, firm stroke from base to head, spreading the precum.

clark hisses through his teeth, head dropping back. “f-fuck— easy, i’m—” he bites the inside of his cheek hard, but his hips jerk up into your fist anyway, chasing the heat. the friction he’s needed for so fucking long. finally it’s not his own miserable hand that’s fucking him.

you lean over him, lips brushing his ear as you keep pumping him lazy and tight. “relax, baby. i’ve got you.” you kiss down his chest, slow and deliberate, tongue tracing the lines of muscle while your hand twists just right at the head on every upstroke. every time he tenses like he’s about to get too in his head, you squeeze harder or drag your thumb over his slit and he loses the words in a groan.

finally you slide your panties off, kicking them aside, and position yourself over him, rubbing his fat tip against your slick, dripping folds. clark’s hands fly to your hips, gripping tight then forcing himself to loosen up, like he’s terrified of leaving any marks or bruises.

“wait—condom?” he asks, voice strained but trying to sound steady. his chest’s heaving now, breathing totally messed up. who can blame him when he’s this close to being inside you.

“on the nightstand. but i’m on the pill and i trust you.” you sink down just enough for his head to catch at your entrance, teasing. “you still nervous?”

he lets out a shaky laugh, but his eyes are dark and hungry when they meet yours. “me, nervous?—okay, a little.”

you smile, the same one that gets him aching, and slowly sink down onto him, inch by thick inch. the stretch is perfect—he fills you so deep your thighs tremble when he bottoms out.

clark’s head falls back against the pillow with a broken groan. “oh my god—you’re so fucking tight— shit—” his fingers dig into your hips, trembling with the effort of staying still, cock pulsing hot and heavy inside you like he’s trying to hold back from blowing his load right then and there.

you moan too, the sound’s music to his ears, adjusting to the fullness, walls fluttering around him. for a second you both stay still, just breathing each other in.

“you okay?” you ask, brushing hair off his forehead and adjusting his skewered glasses for him. he’d forgotten they were even there. he sighs when your nails lightly scratch his scalp.

he nods from behind the foggy frames, eyes half-lidded and glassy. “yeah. just… don’t move yet or i’m gonna embarrass myself.” that crooked, self-deprecating smirk tugs at his mouth, but he’s trying to sound cocky anyway. he really is. “super stamina apparently doesn’t apply when it’s this good.”

you laugh softly and roll your hips once, slow and deep, grinding your clit against him. clark curses loud, hands sliding up your back, pulling you down so your chests press together, skin hot and slick already.

“move,” he whispers against your lips, voice rough and desperate with want. “please. i wanna feel you.”

you start riding him properly then, lifting up and sinking back down, taking him to the hilt every time. clark groans, hips twitching up to meet you, still careful but starting to find the rhythm. his hands stay on your hips, guiding you a little better now, thumbs pressing into your skin like he’s testing how much he can hold on.

“fuck, baby— that feels good,” he mutters, voice gaining a bit more edge. he thrusts up harder on the next downstroke, burying himself deep, and when you moan loud he does it again, a little more sure. “yeah? you like that?”

“mm, yeah— just like that, clark,” you praise, rolling your hips faster, tits bouncing with every movement. he watches them like they’ve hypnotized him, then leans up to catch one in his mouth again, sucking harder while he starts fucking up into you with shallow, eager thrusts.

little by little the hesitation cracks. his grip tightens—not enough to hurt, but enough that you feel it—and his thrusts get deeper and steadier. every time you clench around his thick cock he curses under his breath, but now there’s a cocky little smirk tugging at his lips when he sees how wrecked you look. all because of him—all for him.

“shit, princess… you’re dripping all over me,” he says, voice low and rougher, trying to lean into that confidence. he flips you suddenly—careful but quick—onto your back, settling between your thighs without pulling out. “my turn to take care of you.”

he pushes back in slow at first, watching your face, but when your legs wrap around his waist and you dig your heels into his back he loses a little more of that nervous edge. his hips snap forward harder, cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you on every thrust.

“fuck— you feel so good,” he groans, burying his face in your neck for a second before he pulls back to look at you. “been wanting this… wanted to fuck you right for so long.” his pace picks up, steady and deep now, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he gains more confidence with every moan you give him. his glasses keep tipping off his nose so he eventually just pulls them off entirely, tossing them carelessly onto the nightstand.

you reach up, tugging his hair. “yeah? then don’t hold back, baby. give it to me.”

clark’s eyes darken. he hooks one of your legs higher, spreading you wider, and starts fucking you harder—still very much controlled, still watching for any sign he’s too much, but clearly loosened up enough to get lost in it—in you. his cock stretches you perfectly on every thrust, thick and relentless now that he’s letting himself go a bit more. he can’t believe he’s been running from this and settling for his hands every night. what a fucking idiot.

“like this?” he rasps, all smug but breathy, slamming in deep and grinding against your clit. “tell me how you want it. i can take it… i can handle you.” his free hand slides between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing messy circles, learning fast from the way your pussy clenches tight around him.

you’re moaning his name louder, nails raking down his back, and it only makes him thrust faster, more sure of himself. the nervous virgin from ten minutes ago is starting to disappear under the heat—replaced by a clark who’s fucking you like he’s determined to make up for every single time he ran.

© nagumolvr , you do not have permission to translate, steal, repost, or feed my work to ai.

—————————————————————————

FRESHLY MARRIED WAYNE COUPLE SPOTTED IN IBIZA ON THEIR HONEYMOON!

bruce wayne fangirls, prepare your hearts— and perhaps a box of tissues— because gotham’s most eligible bachelor is officially (and devastatingly) off the market! newlyweds bruce wayne and his stunning wife were spotted soaking up the mediterranean sun this week during a luxurious honeymoon getaway in ibiza. the couple, who tied the knot in what many are calling ‘the wedding of the decade’, appeared completely smitten as they enjoyed a rare break from their high-profile lives

fresh paparazzi photos from the couple’s honeymoon show bruce wayne and his wife enjoying a private yacht getaway off the coast of ibiza— and its safe to say neither of them seemed paricualry intrested in anything besides each other

in one photo currently sending social media into a blaze, mrs wayne can be seen perched on top of her husband while the pair float in the ocean on a red and white inflatable ring. the billionaire’s arms are wrapped securely around her waist as the two stare at one another from inches apart, seemingly oblivious to the photographers documenting the moment. witnesses claim the newlyweds spent nearly the entire afternoon attached to the hip “he literally wouldn’t take his hands off her” one source reported. “not that she seemed to mind”

another set of photos reveals the couple lounging together beneath a shaded cabana aboard their yacht. and what began as a quiet afternoon sunbathing quickly turned into an intimate cuddle session, with mrs wayne stretched across her husband’s chest and his arms holding her close. the billionaire appeared completely relaxed— a rare sight for the notoriously reserved businessman

however, the internet’s favorite images remain the now-viral ocean snapshots, gotham royalty floating together in the middle of the crystal blue water as two people completely wrapped up in their own little world. sources are saying that the honeymoon has been intentionally low-key despite the luxury surroundings, with the pair opting to spend most of their time swimming, sunbathing, and enjoying each other’s company away from gotham’s constant spotlight

judging by the photographers, they’re succeeding. as for bruce wayne’s devoted fanbase? our thoughts are with them during this difficult time

—————————————————————————

masterlist!

(a/n: knicks won last night 😭)

main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @st4rl1ghtgrays0n @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae @darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore (tags are open)

🍒 you don’t like Green Lantern and this disturbs Hal Jordan so much. || fluff. breaking into a house. reader is anxious. reader doesn’t know Hal is GL. ooc? 2022 words. || ⋆˚࿔ this was so hard to write pls go easy on me guys 💔 divider by @bbyg4rlhelps

You didn’t know your ex-colleague and close friend Hal Jordan was such a Green Lantern fan. You never even considered someone other than a child would be a fan of superheroes, let alone one of Green Lanterns. The concept of loving superheroes was further away from you. You never even thought about being a fan of any of them. It wasn’t because you did not appreciate what they were doing, it was because you just didn’t care about them that much. They were like celebrities who actually helped society to you… You were grateful, but not a fan.

bruce wayne's personal assistant who literally does everything for him. makes sure his schedule remains updated, makes sure he is aware of his schedule, and makes sure he is taking care of himself (hard task to achieve). you make sure his coffee order is in his hand the second you see him for the day, you make sure he EATS PROPER MEALS, you make his incredibly difficult life seem easier.

bruce wayne who notices his personal assistant isn't sleeping much, is skipping her own meals, and constantly spins her ring around her finger because he can see the anxiety pushed so far deep inside she doesnt even realize it's there. because of him, because of his schedule, because of the pressure he puts on her due to the life he lives. but you do everything you can to not let him see that side (but nothing gets past the world's greatest detective). you push it down, pick his shit up and keep soldiering through with your shoulders back and your head high.

bruce wayne who has been in love with you since the 5th month you started working for him (no matter how much he huffed and puffed that he didnt need an assistant) and starts taking care of you in RETURN. he makes sure you eat with him, that you get enough hours at night, drives you places, brings you little gifts because he saw it and thought of you, you know?

bruce wayne who is gonna prove to his personal assistant that he can take care of you just as much and as WELL as you take care of him.

—————————————————————————

i just knoooooow bruce wayne’s thighs are so meaty

especially when your head was buried in between them, hands gripping them and throat filled with his large hard cock, tears prickling from the corner of your eyes from how he was barely leaving space for you to even breathe. your nails would lightly claw on his thighs, muffled whines heard from you

another thing is that his thighs would for sure have marks of those weapon straps he has on whenever he’s patrolling, red imprints of the belt and batarangs visible when he took it off due to how tight he always had it on

a groan left bruce’s lips, his hand gripping a fistfull of your hair and guiding your mouth on his length. “doin’ so good for me, sweetheart—!” he knocked his head back with a choked moan left his lips when he felt your tongue swirl around his length, brushing on his prominent veins. “fuuuck”

you were deepthroating him so good that his trail was tickling the tip of your nose and his balls were making contact with your chin, a muffled hum from you sending shivers to bruce’s body with a grunt. 

as if that wasn’t enough, your fingertips trailed down to the strap marks on his thighs, feeling the imprint on his skin and tracing a batarang mark that was on his inner thighs. it made bruce’s breathing hitch from his gape lips and his cock in your mouth twitch. his hand in your hair pushed more of his length in— like the entirety wasn’t in already

“breathe from your nose, baby” his other hand came to tilt your chin and meet with your eyes. "thaaaats it, good girl" his hips started to move, noises from him leaving his lips and muffled ones from you. god, bruce was so big there was hardly any room for air to enter through

“just like that, baby. you just kneel down and —fuck— look pretty while i fill up those gorgeous lips of yours, yeah?” 

yum, meaty

—————————————————————————

masterlist!

(a/n: THAT FANART I #NEEEEEEEEED THAT also help im writing this while watching the knicks and spurs game)

main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @st4rl1ghtgrays0n @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae @darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore (tags are open)