MDNI

It broke his heart to see you so upset, but he had been prepared for that. It was all part of the process. Soon, you would accept the reality you now faced. And soon after that, you would come to understand him and you would be glad that he had brought you here, far away from the troubles of the outside world and you would melt into his arms.. soon. You would be so thankful for all that he did for you.

Of course, this would take time. That was alright. Clark was in no hurry. But that did not mean that he could not help you along. You did not need to understand what he was doing just now, you just had to accept it.

Getting you to understand that you could not escape was not that hard. The moment he showed you his powers - flying through the yard, lifting his truck with one hand - it was clear to you that you would never be able to outrun or to hide from him, even if you would manage to escape the farm (which you wouldn't). Clark could watch the realization dawn onto your face in real time. And despite how broken and scared you looked, he could not help but feel giddy inside. It hurt you now, yes. But soon, so soon, you would be happy, because his powers meant that he could protect you from anything.

Making you understand that he was nice was a little harder, though. In your pretty little head, you had convinced yourself that he was a mean man trying to control you. That was the last thing he wanted to do! You were free to do whatever you wanted - as long as it was on the farm, obviously - and Clark even encouraged you to keep up with all your old hobbies or find new ones. While he had been planning everything, he had bought a huge supply of DIY supplies, books, sports equipment, whatever you might need. But you did not see that as a good thing. You were not thankful for what he did for you. And that was fine. You did not feel that way, not yet. For now, it would be enough if you recognized it. And Clark would help you with that.

It started off small. Clark would force encourage you to watch movies and TV shows with him, relishing in your presence next to him. It was okay that you still cringed away from him every now and then because at least you had stopped trying to run away and hide from him now. You had gotten so much better at being in the same room as him. He was so proud of you. His good girl.

In just a few weeks, you would be even better. Because Clark had a plan to get you to acknowledge when he did something nice for you. After that, it would get so much easier for you to understand him. So now, whenever someone on screen would say "thank you", he would press the little button on his counter. It was a small device that fit easily into his palm or his pocket, always within reach. And every time that he pressed that small, unsuspecting button, a small click would echo through the room.

He could tell that you heard it. After all, his superpowers gave him the ability to sense every small change in you, no matter how miniscule it might have seemed. He could see the tension in your shoulders, the irritated furrow of your brows, he could tell that you were forcing yourself to just look straight ahead and ignore him. The sound bothered you, but not enough to overcome your dislike of him. You did not wish to talk to him, to ask him what he was doing. So you just let him keep going. He could feel the giddiness rise up in his chest again. It was all going as planned.

After a few nights of this, he started expanding his training further. When you sat down for dinner one day - Clark had cooked one of your favorites - he put a hand on your wrist just as you were about to lift your fork.

"I made your favorite," he smiled at you. He had seen you make this dish countless times before, when he had to secretly watch you in your apartment. When he still had to use his alter ego and his x-ray vision to keep you safe. When you two hadn't been together yet.

"Aren't you glad I did?" He made sure his voice was soft and gentle. You deserved to be treated with respect and care.

A curt nod was your only reply. You didn't want to speak to him. He could feel your arm tensing under his touch. Soothingly, he rubbed a thumb over your skin.

"And so what do you say?" He prompted you. You were a smart girl. You just needed a little push.

"Thank you," you pressed out.

Click.

Clark smiled at you again, satisfied. You still didn't ask what the clicker was about.

From then on, it became a routine. Every time Clark did something nice for you, he would make you thank him. And oh, you were truly so smart. His smart girl. After just a couple of days, he didn't even have to prompt you anymore, you just caught onto it and started thanking him on your own. Every time that you did, Clark's heart beat a little faster - and every time, his clicker sounded off right after. No matter how quickly you said it or how mumbled the words were, he knew that soon enough, you would internalize them.

A week went by, then two. When you had finally gathered the courage to ask him what the weird clicking sound was - his brave girl - he had just shown you the counter and told you that he was just keeping track of all your nice moments. He did feel a little bad for lying to you about the purpose of his actions, but he knew that it was all for the best.

And then, one night when the two of you were watching tv together, he knew his plan was about to come to its final conclusion. The time was just right, he knew it.

You were perched up on the couch next to him, not even cringing away from him when he moved to sit a little closer to you. His heart jumped in his chest. Some show was still playing, but Clark did not pay attention to it. The little clicker was burning into his palm, waiting to be finally used.

Yes, he thought as he looked at you, so close next to him. This was the right time. Gently, he shifted on the couch and, barely giving you the time to turn to him and see what he was doing, he was on you already. He felt a little bad again. He was practically pouncing you but could you really blame him? He had been so patient all this time, just waiting for you to be ready. And he knew that you were ready.

The taste of your lips on his was overwhelming - sweet, slick with your spit, all teeth and tongue. Through it all, he barely recognized the feeling of your hands pushing at his chest and your knees against his hips, desperately trying to push him off of you despite how much stronger he was than you. But luckily for you, Clark was not a selfish man. He just stole a few more kisses before he sighed against your mouth, months of anticipation seeping out of his pores, replaced by bliss at finally being able to have you the way he was supposed to.

The moment he pulled away, you opened your mouth to say - or yell - something. But Clark already knew what you were about to say. With a smile, he just pressed the button of his little clicker and just like that - click - whatever you wanted to say disappeared from your mind, instead replaced by a quick "thank you".

It was perfect. It was everything he had envisioned this moment to be. You were caught off guard, naturally. Your eyes went wide, your brain scrambling to make sense of what just happened. But Clark wouldn't let you. In these past months, he had learned that you got way into your head way too fast if he left you alone with your thoughts. And he was a good boyfriend. He wouldn't let you stress yourself out.

Instead, he kissed your jaw and gave you another soft click.

"Thank you," you said, automatically. You couldn't help yourself.

His free hand wandered down to your chest as his lips worked their way down. Very gently, he pinched one of your nipples through your clothes. He could feel you start to shake. You must have felt the same tension between the two of you before. How exciting this must be for you! Clark could hear your heart beating erratically inside your chest, right beneath his palm. The rhythm of your heart almost matched his own. It brought a smile to his lips.

Click. "Thank you," you sobbed now. Poor you. This must be so overwhelming for you. Clark himself felt so happy he thought he could cry.

"Clark-" you glanced at him, confusion and fear written all over your face. "Wha-"

"It's okay," he whispered. You were doing so well for him. "I've got you, sweetheart." He started pulling down your pants for you. "Just relax, alright? I'll take care of you. I know just what you need."

He caught one of your thighs in his palm just as you tried to scramble backwards, away from him. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the warm skin there.

"I don't understand-" you started, defeat already creeping into your voice. You wanted to know what was happening, but you knew that Clark already knew what was best, what was supposed to happen. And truly, what was there that you could do about it?

"You don't have to understand, sweetheart," Clark reassured you as he positioned himself down further, now agonizingly close to your fluttering pussy. Did you realize you were soaking wet for him? "Your body already knows what the right thing to do is."

He pressed a chaste kiss to your glistening clit.

Click.

"Thank you!" It was truly a good thing the farm was so remote. Clark was sure that if you had any neighbors, they would have heard you sobbing under his touch from miles away. 

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! 🌸

Your defeat in your circumstances was palpable, but you were determined to keep your sorrow to yourself. You thought they would be satisfied with your depressive acceptance, but they were determined to drag you out of that hole every time you tried to make peace with it. They wouldn’t even let you slowly rot away without their input, telling you it was this exact reason that they took it upon themselves to care for you. Escape was impossible; they made certain of it. You really tried to believe that you were just sparing yourself some pain by not fighting back. 

Monday nights were the nights they promised to make time for you. A day where they would come home from their day jobs and play pretend with domesticity and normalcy. You were expected to play house, too, dressing up beyond your pajamas and sweatpants. They still have yet to give you a real pair of shoes, though. 

You were sitting on the couch in between them, back nestled into Clark’s right side and feet outstretched into Bruce’s lap. They had positioned you the moment they sat down, hardly leaving enough space to breathe. The three of you were in Bruce’s study, listening to his old jazz vinyls as you nursed your drink. 

Bruce swirled a neat Whiskey in a glass, unsipped, as he rubbed the heel and ball of your socked foot with his free hand. Clark had a hot chocolate, same as you, that was sitting on the coffee table, untouched. His right arm was slung over your shoulder while his left hand held yours, kneading his thumb into your palm. You held your mug close to you, keeping your mouth busy in hopes of not cracking under the pressure of Clark’s stare. 

“How was your day, honey?” Clark asked with a soft smile, resting his head next to yours on the back couch cushion. 

You shrugged, continuing to stare at the roaring fireplace in front of you. What was there to say to them? That you had lain around the manor all day, dreading the minutes until they came home? That you were steeling yourself to refuse to speak to them for another day? Bruce cleared his throat, looking up from your foot, and rested your toes in his palm. They tolerated non-answers less than wrong answers. 

You looked over at Bruce, unable to hold your gaze with his before settling to look down at his lap. He had taken off his sports coat when he came home and was sitting with his dress shirt undone, three buttons and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Clark had foregone his jacket and dress shirt entirely, wearing nothing but his slacks and his white undershirt. They both took their belts off in front of you. You were wearing a mockneck bodysuit and a long skirt with a pair of white socks. 

You had started the day with more clothes, too, that they slowly began to peel off you. There was no need for a sweater, Bruce had said. The fireplace was waiting for you. Did you really need stockings on? Clark had asked. Layers in the house weren’t necessary. Piece by piece, they dressed you and themselves down until you assumed nothing would be left. 

“Clark asked you a question,” Bruce said, sliding his hand up your leg to rest just under the hem of your skirt. 

You looked back at the fireplace and just sighed, setting your drink down next to Clark’s still steaming mug. Shrugging again and sighing, you rested your head against the cushion next to Clark and looked at him. You hoped your moping act would help them drop the subject – puppy eyes always worked on Clark.  To him, you had no bark or bite. 

Clark’s gaze didn’t linger on you. The look they shared had you feeling queasy. They were so hard to read, but you could always tell when they were thinking – especially when they were thinking the same thing. Your quietness had run its course with them. You’re sure you’ve only made it this far because Clark told Bruce to let you work it out yourself. But you’ve learned that Clark’s patience runs much thinner when Bruce is in his ear. They were planning on making you talk; you just didn’t know how. 

Bruce’s hand rubbed circles into your calf, slowly inching towards your thigh. He set his drink down next to yours, settling his free hand back on your foot. You closed your eyes and inhaled slowly, trying not to let panic seep into your bones. It was Clark who was touchy like this, yet he seemed content to keep his hands to himself for once and just watch. Bruce gently slid his hand under your sock, making it down to the ball of your foot before wiggling your sock off. You fought off a shiver of ticklishness and swallowed harshly. 

Clark pressed his forehead to yours, humming softly as he brought the hand he was massaging up to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss on the tip of your pinky, still rubbing his thumb into the flesh of your palm. An easy smile reached his eyes as he kissed his way down your fingers. After he reached your thumb, he closed his eyes and placed your hand over his mouth, chastely kissing your palm. 

Bruce brought your ankle to his lips, placing a wet kiss there. His hand was warm and weathered, heating your skin up through the fabric. Your skirt slid down to your upper thigh as Bruce put your heel on his left shoulder. His hand caressed the backside of your calf, slowly inching closer towards your inner thigh. You shuddered as a chill ran all up your spine. You stretched your back uncomfortably, settling away from him. You were desperate not to let yourself melt into the false sense of security their arms offered. 

“Bruce’s hands always run cold, don’t they?” Clark mused, kissing your wrist. 

Bruce let out a throaty chuckle and nodded, pressing a kiss to your knee cap. He leaned closer, spreading your left leg over his right thigh and hooking his left arm under your right knee. You understood the game they were playing now. If you were going to play by their rules and win, you’d have to choose your words very carefully. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned quietly, looking at Bruce warily.

“Nothing you won’t like.” 

Clark maneuvered you to fully sit in his lap, facing Bruce, kissing up your arm until his chin rested on your shoulder. His arms held your waist in place as Bruce kissed down to your inner thigh. It was a test. You knew that they knew you understood that now. The only question was how far you were going to let it go. Bruce unclipped the body suit snaps over your panties, letting his fingers graze under the hem on your right hip. 

“Don’t…” You whispered, placing your hand over his wrist. 

Bruce looked up at you through lidded eyes, letting his lips brush against your hip. “Don’t what?” 

“Let him make you feel good?” Clark chimed in, taking your hand in his and away from Bruce. 

“Don’t touch me there.” You said with a little more confidence. 

“Here?” Bruce chuckled, placing a kiss over your navel. 

You inhaled softly, arching your back towards Clark’s chest. These were dangerous waters you were treading in. You’re certain that with all the surveillance Bruce did on you before they took you, he, at least, knew you were a virgin. Hell, you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet, and here Bruce was in between your legs, waiting to devour you. 

“What about here?” Bruce’s hand slid back to your ass, squeezing a handful of it in his hand. 

His callouses were rough against you as he kneaded your flesh in his hand. You shook your head, trying to dig your nails into Clark’s hand with no avail. 

“I…I don’t want you to touch me at all.” You finally confessed. You could only hope you told him what he wanted to hear. 

“Oh, honey,” Clark sighed sweetly. “If you wanted me to touch you instead, all you had to do was ask.” 

Clark took both of your wrists into his right hand as he kissed along your throat and wrapped his arm around your waist to press you flush against him. Bruce retreated and relaxed against the couch, content to abide by your interpreted wishes. Clark kissed up to your cheek, letting his pecks slowly inch towards your lips. 

“Wait!” You cried, turning to look at Clark with desperate eyes. “Wait, please.” 

“Have you decided you want Bruce after all?” Clark whispered, lips ghosting just barely above yours. 

“I…” What could you possibly say in your defense? “I don’t think either of you will want me.” 

“If that were true, we have a funny way of showing it.” Clark chuckled, chasing your lips slowly as you leaned your head back. 

“Don’t make assumptions.” Bruce said coolly. “If you want to know how we feel, just ask us.” 

“I’m not trying to, I’m just…being realistic.” You sighed. You’d never ask them, not wanting an even further look into their deranged delusions.

“Realistic?” Clark chuckled. “I’m just itching to jump your bones, and you think we don’t want you.” 

“You said ‘will want me’.” Bruce noticed. “Is there something you think we don’t already know?” 

You look at Bruce, swallowing nervously. Clark settled to press kisses along your temple and hairline, rubbing his hands up and down your waist. 

“No!” You defended. Secrets were a cardinal sin with them. “I’m just not sure you’ll want someone as…inexperienced as me.” 

“Think our boyscout is as innocent as he seems?” Bruce smirked. Your apparent gap in experience only made your stomach churn further.

“That’s just the way we like it, we’ll be your first and onlys.” Clark mused, letting his kisses move back down towards your lips. “You think our playboy can’t handle a virgin?” 

“We adore you, you know you can’t deny that,” Bruce replied earnestly. 

“I mean,” You laughed nervously, placing your hands on Clark’s chest to hold him back. “I haven’t even had my–” Clark’s eyes light up at the prospect.”My, uh, first kiss.” Your confidence died in your throat, barely finishing the sentence with a whisper. 

“That’s okay,” Clark smiled, all teeth. He looked like a predator waiting to strike at his innocent prey. “We can teach you.” 

Bruce’s hand softly stroked the underside of your calf. “Why?”

Clark maneuvered you off his lap, scooching you both over closer to Bruce. You sat shoulder to shoulder with them both, Bruce keeping your feet in his lap and Clark beginning to stroke your hand again. They let you take your time to answer, watching the gears turn in your mind, trying to find any excuse you thought they would find acceptable. 

“Well, you both know I’ve never had a boyfriend before…you two.” You stared at the fireplace in front of you. What were they to you now? Boyfriends? Husbands? Captors? Owners? 

“We’re your partners now, sweetheart. Nothing is ever going to change that.” Clark reassured. 

“You don’t need a boyfriend to have sex.” Bruce challenged, quirking a brow. Of course he knew all about that. You’d jab it at him if you thought it would make a difference.

“I’m not the hookup type.” You shrugged, feeling the discomfort of the topic rise in you. 

You weren’t less than just because you didn’t have the notches in your bedpost the way they did. You were doing your very best to refuse becoming one of theirs.

“Waiting for someone special?” Clark whispered in your ear. Naturally, Clark was more sentimental about these things than Bruce was. 

“The opportunity just never came up.” You replied. A lie of omission technically wasn’t a lie, but you knew it wouldn’t slide with them.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities with us.” Bruce smirked. 

“Isn’t ‘I don’t know’ an answer?” You huffed exasperatedly. 

“Not if you don’t have a good enough reason,” Bruce said matter-of-factly. “You’re afraid.” 

“Now you’re making assumptions.” You spat back. 

“It’s not an assumption if it’s a fact, my love.” Bruce quirked a brow. “You’ve been afraid since you first came here.” 

Of course, you were afraid. But of what exactly? Afraid they would expect more than you could give? Afraid that you’ll be nothing more than a sex slave to them? Afraid that you were becoming complicit in your own captivity? Afraid it would hurt? Afraid it wouldn’t? 

You’d be damned if you showed them your fear. 

“It’s okay to admit that you’re afraid, sweetheart. You’re safe with us.” Clark soothed. 

“Have we done anything to show you otherwise?” Bruce asked. 

It was true. You knew it, and they knew it, and you hated that they knew you knew it. They’ve never been physical with you, never raised their voice, never neglected you. In any other circumstance, people would gush over what doting gentlemen you had. 

“Maybe she needs to see how gentle we can be with her.” Clark offered, picking you up bridal style with one arm and tucking you close to him.

You yelped at the sudden upheaval, wrapping your arms around his neck for stability. Bruce was quick to follow both of you as Clark led the way back to the manor’s master bedroom. Clark hummed a gentle tune as Bruce opened the door and beckoned you both inside with an outstretched arm. 

Clark sat you down at the edge of the bed. You folded your arms across your chest as you watched the two of them strip. Clark took off his shirt with one hand and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, fingers intertwined. He let out a pleased hum, sending you a smile. He made quick work to help Bruce out of his dress shirt and left him to remove his undershirt. Clark dropped to his knees and placed his hands on Bruce’s thighs, unzipping Bruce’s pants with his teeth. 

The burn from your cheeks spread all the way down to your chest. Your fingertips tingled with anticipation. You squeezed yourself tighter, swallowing harshly. Clark looked right at you as Bruce’s pants pooled around his ankles. He licked a long stripe against Bruce’s erection, smiling sharply when you looked up at Bruce nervously. 

Bruce ran a hand through Clark’s curly locks, tugging them to bring his head back. Clark looked up at Bruce expectantly and stood when Bruce cupped his chin to kiss him. The kiss was heated and passionate, teeth and tongues already knocking against each other. Bruce stepped out of his pants and kicked them away, leaving him shirtless in his black boxers. He held his hand against the back of Clark’s neck and reached his other hand to shimmy the man out of his slacks. 

Bruce slipped a hand into Clark’s white boxers, palming him and giving him a gentle squeeze. He groaned loudly into Bruce’s mouth and tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. Clark looked at you while Bruce started to kiss down his neck, biting and sucking harshly on his skin. He motioned for you to come over with a gentle wave of his hand, holding it out for you to take. 

You stood up from the bed and waited for a moment, burrowing your arms further against yourself. If you showed that you would come freely when called, if you were willing to try, then maybe, you hoped, they would have mercy on you. 

You took Clark’s hand, keeping your other arm tight around your chest. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing motion and gave you a gentle smile. You were sure he could feel just how much you were shaking. You could no longer tell if it was from fear or anticipation; maybe it was a mix of both. Bruce’s free hand wrapped around your waist and herded you in between them. 

“You’re making her nervous,” Clark said, cocking his head at Bruce. “Her heart is racing.”

He gently grasped the hand covering your chest and pulled it away, placing it over his to steady you with his calm heartbeat. His palm draped the back of your hand, holding it in place. Bruce’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder as he ghosted his lips up your neck and behind your ear. Clark brought your other hand up to his lips again, kissing your palm and closing his eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” Bruce whispered in your ear. “He doesn’t bite.” 

“Not unless you say please,” Clark murmured into your palm, looking back down at you as he kissed your wrist. 

Bruce’s hands slipped under the elastic band of your skirt, laying his palms flat against your hips. 

“You’re so tense,” Bruce said, rubbing circles with his thumbs into your hips. “Let us help you get comfortable.” 

He pushed your skirt down, letting it pool around your ankles. Clark grasped the hem of your body suit and pulled it up over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Bruce’s hands cupped you in between your legs, making you gasp as he ran a finger along your wetness. 

“You’re soaked, lovely,” Bruce smirked. “Did you like watching us?” 

You gulped, looking away from both of them. The heat in your cheeks burned brighter. Back to square one, you were at a loss for words. The men stepped away from you, taking their places on the large, plush bed. Bruce sat up against the headboard, propping one knee up and resting his left arm against the wood. Clark lay next to him on his side, propping himself up with his right elbow. Their eyes roamed you freely as you stood in the same spot they left you in. Your arms quickly found their place against your chest again. 

“Feeling shy?” Clark asked, tracing circles into the sheets with his index finger. “Come here.”

“Maybe she wants us to continue our little show.” Bruce mused, holding his right hand out to you. 

You stared at the ground as you padded over. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, either. It never got easier when they stripped. 

You shakily took Bruce’s hand and crawled into the space in between them. Your arms were squished against their chest as you held your hands in your lap, twiddling your thumbs nervously. You stared straight up at the high ceiling, trying to count the folds in the canopy draped over the bed. It was a lovely shade of forest green, dark and inviting. A perfect shadow to hide in. 

Clark’s hand started tracing circles on your stomach. Bruce’s left hand came to rest on your tense shoulders, slowly easing them from being hunched up to your ears. 

“Beautiful,” Clark murmured, ghosting his lips over your shoulder. “Isn’t she, Bruce?” 

“Stunning. It’s a miracle no one got their hands on her before we did.” Bruce agreed, stroking a thumb under your chin. “Pretty girl like you deserves to be kissed, well and often.” 

“Our pretty girl,” Clark whispered, kissing up under your chin and nipping softly at your skin. “All ours.”

Clark dipped back down to your collarbone, leaving wetter kisses before licking a stripe up from your clavicle to your chin. All pretense of chaste affection was out the window – they were hungry for you, and Clark was tired of pretending he wasn’t. 

“Still feeling afraid?” Bruce asked. “We’ll take it slow, sweetheart.” 

Slow. They had no intentions of stopping. It was no longer an if; it was simply a matter of when. 

“I told you I’m not afraid.” You shot back, hardly able to believe yourself with the way you sounded. 

“Then show us.” 

Bruce’s right hand smoothed over Clark’s thigh. His hands were rough and scarred, knuckles hardened from years of fighting. Scars littered his body beyond his hands. His deepest scars were beneath the surface, somewhere deep and dark that not even you or Clark seemed to reach. You assume he’s never let anyone. Sometimes, you think he takes all the hits he does in order to remind himself of the real pain he refuses to let himself feel.

Bruce looked at you intensely as he palmed Clark’s erection. He was studying you. Your nervousness was one thing, he knew it well. But your bashful arousal was a new frontier. You kept staring at the ceiling, knowing you would crumble if you looked over at him. He was handsome in a way that made you nervous if you looked at him for too long, like a long-lost movie star from the Golden Age. His charm was effortless, a well-rehearsed charade that flustered you more than it seduced you. He exuded command that made it hard to say no to him, as if his disappointment would devastate you. 

Unlike Bruce, Clark didn’t have a scratch on him. His skin was smooth and flawless, as if he were carved straight from marble in the likeness of an ancient god. He was handsome in a way that was almost insulting. He could hide it well. His patience was almost as impenetrable as he was. It made him hard to read at first, but he’s let cracks of his other emotions seep through the longer you’ve been with him. You assumed he was too worried about frightening you with anything other than his fairweather optimism. Easy eyes and kind smiles with stupid dimples that put you at ease when you should be on alert. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. An extraterrestrial and uncanny Adonis.  

Clark moaned against your skin, letting his teeth graze you as he jutted his hips against Bruce’s hand. He was careful, cautious with you despite his desire. You hadn’t said please yet. Bruce slipped his hand into Clark’s briefs and pulled out his leaking erection. Clark’s right arm stopped propping him up as he slid it under your neck and settled on the pillows next to you. 

“Look at him,” Bruce instructed, tilting your cheek towards Clark. “Isn’t he so handsome?” 

Swallowing nervously, you turn to look at Clark. A small flush left his cheeks tinted pink. His eyes were shut in pleasure as Bruce continued to stroke him. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked at you. You nodded slowly in agreement.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Clark whispered, using the arm under you to turn your body fully onto his side towards him. 

He moved his hand from your stomach to cup your cheek. It seemed they were in silent agreement that Clark would take your first kiss. You wonder if they had this planned out. If they did, they weren’t keen on sharing their plans. The element of surprise served them well. 

“Hi,” You whispered back, staring at his lips. 

Who were you kidding, of course they did. They didn’t leave anything to chance. 

They didn’t have to do this for you, you thought. They didn’t have to let you take it slow. They didn’t have to wait until you were comfortable with their innocent affection. They could have taken you the first night they brought you back, and it would have never made a difference to them. They were giving you plenty of chances, and you have given them almost none. 

Clark’s hips thrusted into Bruce’s hands as he moaned again. He pressed kisses into your hairline by your temples, whimpering softly when Bruce squeezed him.

“Stop jerking your hips,” Bruce commanded, looking at Clark before resuming at a faster pace. “Hands to yourself.” 

Clark gasped and pressed his face into your hair, hips tense with obedience. Clark’s hands retreated behind his back, chest heaving. Bruce’s other hand settled on the back of your neck, stroking up the side gently. 

“See? He can behave himself,” Bruce reassured, whispering gently in your ear. “He’ll listen to you if you tell him what you want.” 

You placed your hand over Clark’s cheek and pulled back from him slightly to look straight at him. His eyes were heavy with need as he looked at you. His bottom lip was caught in his teeth as he bit back a moan. You could still be in control; you could make this happen on your own terms. 

“Clark,” You said shakily. You kept the last shred of courage you had and maintained eye contact with him. “If you want to kiss me, you can.” 

Clark hardly let you finish your sentence before he gave you a deep kiss, nuzzling his cheek into your hand. You gasped at his intensity, closing your eyes as you let him kiss you breathless. The second kiss was sweeter, softer. You could feel his restraint as he slowed down, groaning lowly against your lips. He was desperate to ravage you, but he was willing to go at your speed. That had to count for something, right? 

Bruce’s hand stopped pumping and grabbed yours, replacing it on Clark’s hardness. Clark whimpered against your lips, letting out a breathy gasp. He moaned out your name lowly, shutting his eyes again. 

Your movements were stiff and awkward, clearly unused to the motions. Clark didn’t seem to hold it against you. 

“Honey, ah!” Clark breathed out, gritting his teeth when you started moving your hand. “Making me feel so good.” 

Bruce’s hand slipped over your underwear, pressing his index finger against your wetness. 

“‘Course you’re not afraid,” Bruce mused, sliding his hand under the elastic band. “How are we supposed to trust what you say when your body is willing to tell us the truth?” 

Bruce’s middle finger brushed against your clit, causing you to tense your hips and flinch. You whined into Clark’s mouth, gasping when you felt his tongue brush against yours. Bruce’s hand on your neck kept you in place when you tried to move your head back. 

“Relax,” Bruce instructed softly. “Just open up.” 

You whined again, turning your head to the side. This was happening too fast; you weren’t prepared to deal with both of them for your first time. Clark’s kisses had left you lightheaded and malleable, slowly kissing away your doubts with each pass of his lips. They could twist your words, but you refused to let them twist your judgment. 

You pushed your hands against Clark’s chest and broke away for a breath, starting to feel sobs bubbling in your throat. You tried to suck in a few deep breaths and take a beat, but Clark dove back in for a wet kiss to your trembling lips, letting his tongue swipe against you again. 

You pulled your hands away from Clark and sat up quickly away from them, frantically breathing and pushing your hair away from your face. Tears were welling in your eyes as you let out hiccuping breaths. 

Bruce was quick to sit behind you, locking you in place between his legs. He placed his hands on your shoulder and brushed some hair behind your ear. Clark sat up in front of you, cupping your face with one hand and placing the other over your heart.

“Oh, baby. You’re okay.” Clark soothed softly. “Shh, you’re okay, honey.” 

Bruce rubbed soothing circles into your shoulders as you breathed with Clark. Some stray tears had fallen, and Clark was quick to kiss them away. 

“Deep breaths,” Bruce said softly. “Just like that.” 

Your hyperventilation had slowed to slow, hiccuping breaths as they soothed you. 

“I-I don’t think I’m ready for this.” You whimpered. 

“You were doing so well.” Bruce praised, letting his hand rub over your shoulder blades. 

You shook your head, closing your eyes and resting against Clark’s chest.

“Talk to us,” Clark said, pulling you in close to lay your ear over his heart. “Did it not feel good?” 

Bruce petted a hand over your head as you hid your face in Clark, still taking shuddering breaths. 

“I don't want to do this.” You mumbled. A desperate Hail Mary. 

“Oh, honey,” Clark sighed. “We all know that's not true.”

“You were so wet when you watched us,” Bruce whispered in your ear. “You liked it. There’s no use in denying it.” 

Your heart fell just as far as it did the first time Bruce told you that you weren’t going to leave the manor. It was something that was not up for discussion. Tears threatened to spill again. 

“What’s really going on?” Clark implored, resting his cheek against your hair.

Honesty might save you for once if they believed it was the truth. 

“It was just moving too fast,” You let out with shuddering breaths. “Bruce held my head down and-” 

Bruce shushed you again, not wanting you to work yourself up a second time. 

“Okay,” He whispered against your hair, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Our poor girl,” Clark sighed. “We scared you, didn’t we?” 

You shook your head against Bruce’s hand, letting out a sigh of defeat. Something about admitting your fear enticed them, and you refused to play into their hand. Not going through with this was off the table; you were certain about that now. You knew they were patient men; they were willing to take it at your speed. Did you really want to escalate it further? Were you willing to see how long their patience would last? 

“You’ve barely given it a chance,” Bruce said, letting his hand rub over your shoulder blades. “Don’t worry about us. Just lie back, we’ll take good care of you.” 

“Let’s try again,” Clark hummed in agreement and whispered close to you, “No more tears in those pretty eyes, ‘kay?”

You nodded again and sat up between them, using the heel of your palms to wipe the last of your tears away. You bit back another shuddering breath, holding onto Clark’s hand on your chest. You could do this…right? You could do it unsure, you could do it nervously, you could do it scared. You could do this if it meant they didn’t have to hold you down to get it done. 

Clark’s hand on your cheek caressed your face and settled on your chin, resting it between his thumb and index finger. He smiled at you with an unmistakably sharp look in his eyes. He’s pleased you’re willing, but you know that if you weren’t, it wouldn’t have made much difference to him. His thumb stroked over your chin as he tilted it up to look at him. He shared a brief look with Bruce before leaning down to kiss your still-wet eye. 

Bruce’s hand slid down from your back and settled on your hip as he kissed the back of your neck. Clark closed his eyes and leaned in for another kiss. You held your breath as he kissed you chastely, sweeter and slower than the other kisses. He kissed you as if it were the tender love and care you so desperately needed. He peeked at you through his eyelashes, seeing that you had closed your eyes too and were letting out slow, deep breaths. 

“Good girl,” Bruce murmured against your neck, kissing the skin softly there. “Keep breathing just like that. It’ll help you.” 

Bruce’s hand slid over your hip fully and dipped between your legs. You gasped softly in Clark’s mouth and curled your fingers slightly against his chest. Clark’s lips twitched slightly in restraint, continuing to lay kisses on the bottom lip of your parted mouth. Bruce’s hand cupped you entirely, pressing the heel of his palm against your clit. Your hips jerked away from his hand, but Bruce’s straddling you from behind kept you in place. Even the pressure from his palm was too much for you; every touch against your skin left electricity in its wake. No matter how shameful it felt to admit, you knew you wouldn’t last long against them.

“Shh,” He soothed, kissing under your ear. “You’re okay. Just let us make you feel good.” 

“He’ll make all your worries melt away, you’ll see.” Clark hummed in agreement against your lips. “Don’t be difficult, now.”

Bruce’s hand continued to grind into you as you let out a soft whine. Toys had never even felt as good as Bruce’s teasing. You were ashamed to feel as good as you did. Your hand flew up to your mouth, making him press his hand down even harder. Clark took it away and held both your wrists against him. 

“None of that,” Clark scolded and pressed your hands back on his chest. “You let us hear that pretty voice loud and proud.” 

“Trust me, lovely.” Bruce chuckled, putting his hand into your wet panties. “Clark would be too happy to make you really scream for us. He’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to you.” 

“Woof.” Clark teased in a low voice. 

Bruce’s finger slowly circled your clit as you bit back a moan. Clark took your swollen lip from under your teeth and put it between his own, sucking gently when you moaned again. Bruce’s movements were slow and teasing, giving you just enough to feel the tingle in your spine but not enough to get you anywhere. 

Clark swiped his tongue over your lip before sealing your lips in a hot kiss. You whined into his mouth, grateful for the way his tongue muffled your pathetic sounds. You relaxed your hips against Bruce and flattened your palms shakily against Clark’s chest. They were trying to keep the mood light, ease the tension from your hunched shoulders and arched hips. The least you could do for yourself was return the favor. 

Bruce’s kisses became wetter as he sucked and nibbled on your collarbone, leaving tender marks in his wake. His fingers slipped down to tease the wetness between your folds, stroking gently. You sighed into Clark’s mouth and forced yourself to rest in the palm on your cheek. Clark was right, if you really got yourself to relax, you could forget yourself for just a moment. Forget your circumstances, forget that you don’t have a say in your own life anymore. 

You could forget all that for now, but you knew better. Tomorrow is a different story. You’ll try to forget how good Bruce’s fingers were at making you feel pleasure you didn’t even know was possible. You’ll try to forget how dizzying Clark’s kisses were. You’ll try to forget how addicting their devotion and desire were in your isolation. 

Clark’s free hand slipped in your panties over Bruce’s, toying his middle finger through your folds before dipping into you. You cried out softly as he did, earning pleased groans from both men. The two of them shared a look over your shoulder before kissing each other next to your ear. It was heated and messy, causing heat to pool in your stomach at their pleased sounds. 

Your back arched away from Bruce as Clark curled his finger inside of you, making a slow inching motion. Your legs began to tremble as they squeezed shut around Clark’s thigh. You bit back another moan as you pressed your back to Bruce’s chest. Clark was reaching places you never even dreamed of, dragging out pleasure you didn’t even know was possible with each curl. You were close already. Clark let out a low sound when you clenched around him, and Bruce hummed in kind. 

“Eager little thing,” He cooed, pressing his forehead against yours and staring at your wide eyes. “Feeling good so good, aren’t you?” 

You yelped in pleasure when Bruce gently pinched your clit and rolled it between his fingers. Clark’s finger pumped in and out of you at a steady pace, keeping a curling motion as he dragged them against your walls. You couldn’t even think to hold back your moans anymore as you writhed between them. 

“I think she’s close.” Bruce teased with a smirk, looking at Clark. Your hips just against their fingers as you whined. “And she said she didn’t want this.” 

Bruce tilted your head back by your chin and kissed you deeply, drinking in the soft sighs and whines you let out. Your hips rut in between them, caught in a dance between Bruce’s caresses and Clark’s pumping. He broke the kiss off and looked down at you through heavy eyelids, cooing when you let out a soft whimper. Your eyes screwed shut as the pleasure began to override you, making you moan shamelessly. 

“That’s it,” Clark urged. “Good girl, let it out.” 

You wailed and let out a loud cry as your body tensed, shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. Bruce let out a pleased groan as you collapsed against him, riding out the waves of pleasure as they whispered sweet nothings to you. Clark’s lips quirked as he felt you squeeze tightly around his fingers. They guided you through it, only stopping their motions when you whimpered and shook in overstimulation. 

A stray tear had fallen down your cheek as you opened your eyes to look up at Bruce. He was still looking right back at you, pressing a sweet kiss to your trembling lips. You kissed back, whining when he pulled away. The haze of your satisfaction had your wires crossed. Your afterglow had you feeling a sense of peace you didn’t even know you could get back.

“Well done, love.” He praised, pulling his hand out of your panties. 

Bruce raised his fingers to Clark’s lips, moving them slowly in and out of his mouth as he sucked greedily. Clark pulled his finger out of you and raised it up to Bruce’s lips, pumping it slowly out of his mouth. You watched as you tried to catch your breath, letting out little whimpers as you adjusted your posture. 

The reality of your situation was starting to trickle back in as the two of them parted above you. It was a fool’s errand to believe you had any power over the situation. You handed yourself over as soon as they asked you. You let your inhibitions get lost in their twisted sense of affection and care. Worst of all, you liked it. You liked forgetting the circumstances that led to the current entanglement. You liked forgetting that they weren’t your lovers by choice. You liked forgetting that you were all but held down to get here. 

Bruce smoothed his hands over your tensing shoulders and moved you to lie with him. He propped himself up against the headboard again and shimmied you up to lie on his chest with your back to him. Clark crawled in between your legs, staring up at you with an easy smile. 

“Absolutely soaked for us,” He murmured, placing a wet kiss over your belly button. “Tasted so good on Bruce’s fingers.” 

Clark worked you out of your panties and tossed them off the side of the bed. You shifted anxiously against Bruce, who held you in place with a warm hand on your chest. Clark kicked his own boxers off, leaving both you and him fully naked. 

“You’re doing so well, beautiful,” Bruce whispered in encouragement, kissing your ear gently. “Don’t stop now.” 

Clark hiked your knees over his shoulders as he settled between yours and Bruce’s legs. You shifted nervously again, gasping when he blew cold air over your wetness. You were hardly ready to go all the way; you only hoped they felt the same way. He chuckled as he placed wet kisses trailing down your right thigh, caressing your thighs as they rested on his shoulders. 

“Don’t tease her, Clark,” Bruce chuckled. “She’s been so good for us. Doesn’t she deserve her reward?”

Bruce hooked his arms under your knees and pressed your legs up to your chest. He tucked you close to him, folding you up as much as he could. You gasped, feeling your flush and shame come back twice fold at your absolute exposure. They were more than eager to prepare you for them, which you could feel immensely grateful for. You just hated that it cost you more of your dignity that you thought was all but gone. 

Clark’s warm hands gripped your ass and squeezed gently before he spread you open. He looked up at you as he placed a small kiss over your clit, making you whimper and gasp from the sensitivity. You squirmed as you looked down at Clark, who looked you straight in the eye as he laid a wet kiss with his tongue against the nub. You gasped softly again as his tongue took a long, slow swipe up your wet folds.

Clark hummed against you as he took your clit in his mouth and began to suck gently, shaking his head. You whined as his entire mouth enveloped you, becoming more feverish in his movements the louder you became. He was moving against you like a man who had been starved of you his entire life. 

Your hands flew down to the curly locks tussling between your legs and threaded your fingers through them. Clark moaned in response, pushing his tongue in deeper into you and letting his canines scrape against you gently. You cried out and pulled at his hair, trying to pull him off of you. Your thighs started to shake in overstimulation as you felt Clark growl against you. 

“Clark!” You yelped, trying to buck your hips away from him.

Bruce held you firmly in place as you struggled in their hold. “He’s good with his mouth, isn’t he?” Bruce murmured against your temple. “Like I said, a dog with his favorite bone.” 

Clark nodded, suckling on your clit as he slowly inched a finger back into you. You gasped breathlessly and went limp against Bruce’s chest, feeling the pleasure start to become borderline painful as Clark added a second finger and curled them both. You clenched tightly around them as he began to pump them in and out of you. 

“No,” You whined pathetically, feeling the noise rise again in your throat as you shook your head. “I’m gonna come again.” 

“That’s okay,” Bruce said. “You can come as many times as you want.” 

Clark was spurred by your begging and continued in his ministrations, letting out a low moan as he rocked his hips against the bed. You tugged at his hair again, but he paid you no mind as he steadfastly brought you closer to your second orgasm. You could do nothing but whine and cry out against Bruce’s chest, feeling tears prick your eyes. You let out a loud, warbling cry as you came against Clark’s face, feeling your body practically white out with the pleasure ripping through you. You shook violently in Bruce’s arms as you let out a heaving, whining sob, letting a few stray tears fall. 

You continued to clench around nothing when Clark pulled his fingers out, and your thighs twitched through the aftershocks of your pleasure. Clark placed one final kiss on your wetness before sitting up between your legs. Bruce set your legs back down over his and straddled Clark’s thighs. You shut your eyes and let out heaving breaths as you whispered a curse to yourself. 

“You’re lucky,” Bruce chuckled deeply. “He let you off easy today.” 

Clark kissed your trembling lips deeply, slipping his tongue between your lips as you gasped softly. You tasted yourself on his tongue as you let out a low whimper. Clark moaned in kind, nipping at your lips softly when he pulled away. 

“All right, that’s enough,” Bruce teased, pushing against Clark’s chest. “You’ve been greedy enough for one evening.” 

Clark kissed you sweetly one last time before switching positions with Bruce, handling you gently as they passed you off. You were placed in Clark’s lap, back pressed flush to his chest. Your legs were spread again, far less so than before. Your feet sat on the outside of Clark’s knees as you settled against his chest. You watched as Bruce took off his boxers and sat between your legs, completely bare. 

Your eyes trailed his body as you looked over his scars, some familiar and some new to you. Seeing them up close and uncovered made you realize just how many of them there were. You reached a shaky hand out to his chest as he moved closer between your legs. The scar just below his heart was cut deep; the healed tissue was raised and uneven. It’s unimaginable to consider what the two of them have survived. 

You stood absolutely no chance against them unless they wanted you to. It would only take seconds for Bruce to pin you down in an inescapable hold. Clark wouldn’t have to try to catch any sudden movements you threw at him. They didn’t even need each other to ensure your complete physical submission. Your pleasure overtook you because they wanted you to have it. Your consent was manufactured because they wanted you to believe it. They gain nothing from your approval, yet demand it anyway. 

When Bruce finally kissed you, you kissed him back. You felt the chap of his lips, the scars from all the times they got busted by a lucky shot. You placed a small kiss over the scar on his cupid’s bow, taking in his pleased hum as he kissed you deeply in response. Maybe they would let you off easy tonight. Maybe they’ve had their fill of you for one evening.  

Bruce’s finger ghosted over your folds, and you jolted in oversensitivity, clenching down around nothing. He parted from you, licking his lips. 

“You ready?” He asked sincerely, caressing your inner thighs with his rough hands. 

You would never be ready. Ready wasn’t a feeling; ready was an action. You trembled slightly with anticipation and nerves, only growing more riled up as Clark gently rubbed your waist. Tears threatened to prick your eyes again as you blinked them away and looked back up at the canopy. There was a slight gold reflex to the green that you hadn’t noticed earlier. The sooner this was over, the sooner you could stop pretending to want this. You swallowed and looked at Bruce, willing yourself to relax. 

You needed to choose to be ready before they decided for you. 

Bruce shifted his hips closer to yours, thumbing your clit gently as he pressed his thighs against the back of yours. Clark reached over and stroked Bruce slowly, grinning as he groaned lowly. His other hand caressed your midriff, letting his palm spread warmth over you. You felt him rub his tip against your wetness, and your hips tensed up again. Bruce’s hands held your waist as Clark helped line him up. Your right hand shakily gripped Bruce’s wrist, making him look up at you. 

“Bruce,” You pleaded softly through trembling lips. “I’m scared.” 

“I’ll be gentle,” Bruce promised, placing his hand on yours and rubbing his thumb soothingly over your knuckles. “Do you want to hold my hand?”

A tear falls down your cheek as you nod and shut your eyes. Bruce’s fingers lace with yours as you squeeze tightly, still shaking. He pecked a kiss to the back of your hand and pressed it into the bed. 

“Don’t you worry, honey,” Clark whispered sweetly in your ear, holding your other hand. “Bruce is going to take good care of you.”

Bruce used his free hand to give himself one more pump before pressing his tip into you, catching it on your hole as he slowly inched in. You clenched harshly around him as he slid in, adjusting to his size. Ragged breaths made your chest heave sharply as your whole body tensed in anticipation. 

“Shit,” Bruce hissed through his teeth, stopping about halfway. “Squeezing me like this is only going to make it harder.” 

Clark pet over your stomach, gently pushing your arching back down onto the bed and forcing you to relax the tension in your hips and waist. 

“Just relax,” Clark coaxed. “Be good and let him in.” 

You forced yourself to relax your thighs, opting to carry all the tension in your shoulders instead. Bruce sighed in relief and continued despite your whimpering whines. The stretch was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, even with Clark’s fingers earlier. Clark shushed you softly and kissed your temple, murmuring praise. 

“That’s it,” Clark praised. “Good girl. Just like that.” 

Bruce groaned and clenched his teeth, squeezing your hand slightly as he bottomed out. You let out the breath you held in and squeezed his hand fiercely in return. You involuntarily clenched around him as he stilled in you. He cursed harshly under his breath. His hips trembled in restraint against yours. 

The stretch was uncomfortable, almost bordering on painful. The fullness was something else entirely. He was consuming your entire being. He was the sweat on your brow, the nerves in your mind, the pleasure pooling in your gut. He was filling you in places you didn’t even know existed. He was taking the last piece of yourself that wasn’t already declared his. 

“Taking me so well,” Bruce muttered, resting his forehead on yours. “Absolutely perfect for me.” 

Clark pressed his hand on your stomach, and you whined, gasping at the pressure. He took your left hand and placed it next to his right on your stomach, stroking the back of your palm gently. 

“You feel him here?” Clark said softly. “So deep. He feels so good, doesn’t he?” 

Clark interlaced his fingers over yours, continuing the pressure. His right hand moved down between your legs and began to slowly circle your clit with his middle finger. Bruce let go of your hand briefly to hook your right leg under his left arm, pressing it up to your chest as he reached back down. He interlaced your fingers with his as he pressed his hips flush to yours, not leaving any gap between the two of you. 

Your mouth was agape as you let a breathless cry, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of you. A few more tears fell down your face as Bruce pressed himself into you, groaning into the crook of your shoulder as he did. Your back was flush to Clark’s chest, feeling his hardness rut against you as he moved his hips slowly. 

Sweat trailed down your back onto Clark’s stomach as you squeezed Bruce’s hand again. You blinked away more tears and took a big breath, trying to catch your bearings. Being between both of them was beyond overwhelming. 

“Good girl,” Bruce praised, laying a needy kiss on your shoulder. “Keep breathing just like that. We’ve got you.” 

Bruce’s hips slowly rolled back, dragging himself out of you. He was just shy of his tip coming out before he rolled his hips forward in a single, swift motion to plunge himself all the way back in. You gasped and held your breath again, only exhaling when you could no longer hold in your unabashed moan. You were too overwhelmed to give a second thought to any embarrassment you could think to muster. 

“Tell him just how good you’re feeling,” Clark whispered into your ear, moaning with another jerk of his hips. 

“It’s too much, I can’t,” you blubbered out. “I can’t take it.” 

“You can,” Bruce grunted. “And you will.”

Bruce ground his hips slowly in a circle, pressing you further into Clark. The overstimulation and fullness were bringing your buried emotions to the forefront. A whimpering cry caught itself in your throat as you screwed your eyes shut. Tears fell down your scrunched face when Bruce pulled himself out slowly again. The slow drag of his head against your tensed walls had your toes curling as hard as they could. 

Bruce panted and swallowed close to your ear, letting out a grunt as he pushed his hips back in. His thighs flexed against yours as he started to pump in and out of you at a slow, steady rhythm. Your nails dug into Bruce’s hand, hard enough to scratch and draw blood.

Bruce brought your entwined hands up to his mouth for a brief kiss over your knuckles. 

“Gonna give me some battle scars of your own?” He teased breathily. 

As Bruce’s hips rocked the pair of you, Clark slid his hardness between the small of your back and your tailbone. The sweat of your back slickened him enough to sigh in your ear and kiss behind it wetly. More tears fell as Clark’s finger began to circle you faster and his hips rutted against you in tandem with Bruce’s. The shame and pleasure were bringing you close to sobbing again, making your feelings grow with each rise and fall of your heaving chest. Exhaustion crept in where excitement should be. You could only pray they would take their pleasure quickly. You refused to give yours up for a third time. 

You kept your eyes shut as you heard Clark and Bruce exchange a few more kisses with each other before moving onto you. Bruce kissed your wet cheeks tenderly, whispering assuringly to you as he did. Clark pressed his face into your shoulder, speeding his pace up as he shook your entire body with his strokes. He left wet kisses on your damp skin, letting them muffle his moans. 

Clark groaned your name loudly as his hips flexed and tensed there, spilling himself all over your back. He bit gently into your shoulder as he rode out his aftershocks, licking over the tender mark. He was quicker to go than Bruce from his previous teasing, you assumed. You tried not to notice him rutting into the bed when he was between your legs, letting his obsession with you alone do him in. 

“Usually have better manners than this,” He exhaled in your ear, nuzzling his cheek into yours. “But I just had to get back to you.” 

He had two fingers circling your clit now, pressing down harder as Bruce increased his speed. You shivered in mild disgust and arousal as you felt his spend start to drip down your back. Bruce was not far behind him as you opened your watery eyes to see him staring back down at you. His face was uncharacteristically flushed, and sweat was beading around his temples. He leaned down to give you a deep kiss on your mouth, moaning into your mouth in return. 

Your cunt clenched down on him again as you felt the pleasure building in your core again.

“Close again?” He smirked through his heavy pants. “We’ll have to build your stamina up.” 

You whined and shook your head, letting the sobs bubble up again. You didn’t want your pleasure to be wrought from their insatiability again. Their obsession with your complete ownership had delved all the way down to enacting their will over even your most basic bodily functions. They shared a displeased look over your shoulder, in silent agreement once again. It was never about you. 

“You will come again,” Bruce commanded, squeezing your hand. “You deserve it, my love.” 

Of course you did, that’s what this was all about in the end – what they think you deserve. Not what you wanted, not even what you needed, but what you deserved. You deserved their protection, you deserved their devotion, you deserved their delusions of grandeur. You deserved it so much that it never mattered what you thought about it.

Clark whispered encouragingly in your ear as Bruce slowed his pace, focusing on more powerful and targeted thrusts. He was going in as deep as he could, rolling his hips up into you. Your sobs were loud and unfettered as Clark shushed you softly. You shook your head again and again, whimpering out protests when the pleasure began to make you shake. There was practically no buildup this time. It hit you just like their love did, an impossible force that refused to be denied. It struck you all at once like they did, overtaking your entire being and holding you in the throes of its ecstasy. 

You were fairly certain you lost consciousness for a moment as you rode out your orgasm, spasming violently around Bruce. Absolution filled your senses as you basked in the ignorance once again, letting go of your circumstances for just a second more. The well-earned relief was short-lived as you felt Bruce pull out of you and finish himself off on your stomach. You barely registered he had done it as you finally let yourself go, giving into the fear you’ve felt the entire time. Your body shook as you sobbed harshly. You didn’t even care if they were a witness to it anymore; you couldn’t refuse yourself any longer.

They maneuvered you slowly, allowing your body to rest naturally on the bed between them. Bruce kissed you and pulled you close to him, laying you face down on his chest. He rested against the sheets on his back, petting your hair as you wailed into his chest. The situation had fully crashed down on you, filling you with horrible shame and anger. You let them talk you into willingly betraying yourself, into believing this sham of an intimate evening. You tried to forget them in the apex of your pleasure, but they were waiting there for you, too. There was nowhere to hide from them, not even in yourself anymore. 

Your cries had fizzled out in sniffles quickly as exhaustion moved into you once more. The edges of reality blurred as you opened your eyes wearily. The sight of the room was a haze, some far-off place that felt more like a dungeon than a castle with each passing minute. Their voices were a blur as you settled against Bruce, still shaking from the shock of it all. You hadn’t noticed Clark had left the bed, but he returned with a warm washcloth. His movements were gentle and tender as he physically cleaned you of themselves. You weren’t sure you’d ever be able to wash yourself of your own sins, not with all the tears you knew had left to be shed. 

Clark settled beside you and kissed your cheek, prompting you to close your eyes again. Their conversation was muffled, like you were listening to them speak through a wall. Bruce said something about Alfred bringing dinner up to the bedroom instead of taking it formally like date night would demand. Their voices faded the more you relaxed into their comforting touches.

Clark Kent's body syncs with the rising sun, awakening when trickles of rays filter through the sheen curtains. He gifts himself a moment to admire you curled into his side, sleeping serenely, and seals his adoration by kissing your forehead. Later, he slips into the kitchen with one goal in mind: cooking your daughter’s favourite breakfast.

After bravely enduring a night where monsters could have crawled out from under her bed, homemade pancakes glistening with maple syrup is a rewarding fuel he just so happens to have mastered ever since you walked into his life with a shyly smiling girl hiding behind your leg.

The melodic giggle tumbling from her chest—once he adds whipped cream to her plate and nose—evokes a grin so wide across his face, it aches and the only cure is your lazy, morning kiss.

Clark Kent includes dorky notes to her lunchbox after you’ve filled it with nutritious goods. He purposely bought your daughter’s favourite coloured sticky-notes and leaves each letter in glittery, gold curves. Some days, his writing consists of dad jokes he’s engraved into his mind like ‘why did the cookie go to the hospital? Because it felt crummy.’ On gentler days, he writes how proud he is of her for simply venturing into school, accompanied by a smiley-face drawing.

The pride that builds inside his chest isn’t the same when he saves citizens as Super-Man. This pride, dedicated to the little girl with your expressive eyes, is different. It’s infinitely more precious, and he’ll do everything in his power to cherish it.

Clark Kent is advanced on taking time off work to witness any upcoming recitals. No deadlines nor paperwork will get in the way of him being a supportive step-father. Perched front row, large hand entwined with yours, together you admire the talent she’s honed with months of practice. And once the performance ends? Gosh, does Clark fawn over her! She giddily rushes towards you both and he scoops her up into the safety of his arms.

“Was I good? Did you see me?” She questions in a flurry of joy.

His response always confirms you let the right man into your world, “There wasn’t a moment your Ma or me took our eyes off of you.”

Clark Kent often encircles his arms around your waist, instantly coaxing you into melting against his hardened chest. He ducks his chin down to settle on top of your head, all-while your baby girl could be doing something as trivial as colouring or running in circles with Krypto. While Clark is undoubtedly proud of the caring person she’s becoming, the eminence he beholds for you soars further than he can fly. Swaying you side by side in a slow rhythm, his words are the song his heart beats to: “she reminds me of the good in this world, and you’ve set that example, honey.”

Clark Kent's stomach churns when his ears tune to her sniffles and his eyes cast over her teary-face. The worst sound in the world isn’t a blaring car alarm or a squeaky hinge, it’s her pitiful sobs wracking from her tiny body. She only cries like this when you’re away on a work trip, despising the distance between her and her mama when it’s longer than two days.

He tenderly wipes her tears and extends his hand, patiently waiting for her to grasp his thumb. When she does, a slow-paced trip to the nearby pond settles her down, and he reveals mythical ‘stories’ of how the glowing orb in the sky lends a helping hand in healing his worries… maybe it’ll do the same for her.

“Sun helped a little,” she murmurs once time slips by, “but you helped more, Clarkie.”

Clark Kent grapples over the terms ‘step-dad’ and ‘dad.’ They blend together, definitions blurring each day he parents her by your side. Not wishing to overstep, he asks both you and her if he can possibly start calling her ‘his daughter’ too. Your burst of euphoria is unmistakable across the crinkling skin by your eyes and the drag of your fingertip against your necklace he bought you, but you let yours—and possibly his—little girl answer, for this is a change that’s wholeheartedly her decision…

A decision she accepts with the utmost enthusiastic nod in this universe.

Clark Kent drops her off at school one day, checking she has everything, giving her a small squeeze, and waving her off while she scurries to her friends. As he swivels around and takes a step towards his car, an innocent conversation drifts into his ears and courses through his veins.

“Is that your dad?”

“Yeah, he makes the best pancakes!”

Immediately, he was on the phone to you, eyes pooling with unbridled bliss and voice bouncing in excitement.

Clark Kent does his best at being a father.

Moving to Oklahoma at 25 was one of the biggest things you've ever done. Moving away from the strain your parents always gave you. It brought you closer to your new job as a meteorologist. Your new coworkers had been oh so nice.

Javi was your first friend there. Happy to guide you. Kate was a little dubious at first. But it was Scott who you felt more comfortable around. You didn't know why. He was your superior. But he just gave off a really calming energy. Except for when he was shouting at everyone of course.

That was until you started getting the notes a few weeks later. They started out friendly at first. "You look pretty today"

You just thought you had a secret admirer at first. No harm right? Then came the flowers with the love notes . And the notes got more personal.

"You smell so good." Or. "I like that shirt better than the pink one." it was still harmless. But it freaked you out. You couldn't focus on anything.

People picked up on it at work. Scott pulls you aside.

"Kid... hey are you okay? You're really distracted and you gotta stay focused in this job it's serious !" You fidgeted with your hands and pulled the notes out of your pocket. He looked concerned.

"What the fuck is all this... you got an admirer kid?" He acts completely unaware. Like he's the most concerned man on this planet.

"Scott. It's not funny. It's weird. I'm kinda scared!" You sigh painfully,  your heart racing looking at the notes.

He leans down putting his hands on his knees making your heart thud harder, his cologne was strong.. musky and his spearmint gum was overpowering."Oh... kid ... you're okay.. nobody is going to get you..you can always message me if you're scared okay?" He ruffled your hair and you sigh in relief looking at him.

"Thanks Scott... it means a lot!" You managed to squeak out and he tilts his head.

"I'll let the team know. I won't tell them everything I'll tell them to keep an eye on you. Don't ever thank me for being a good person." Oh how fucking sick he was.

He knew it was wrong to send you the notes. And the flowers. He's just making you feel welcome. Loved. You were so stressed all day.

When it was finally time to go Scott pats you gently on your shoulder.

"Remember what I said kid. Message me. You're too fuckin sweet to be scared!" You smiled at him feeling slightly better. But despite it you were looking in every direction driving home. You felt like everyone was out to get you.

As soon as you got to your sweet little bungalow home it was dark outside. Quickly you got out of the car locking it and ran inside. Then locked the door and pulled the chain across letting out a huge sigh of relief kicking your shoes off. You know you probably should've gone to the police. But you were scared. And the chances of them not doing anything were high. You weren't being physically harmed.

You went to your bedroom flicking the light on and throwing yourself onto the bed with a huge groan. Your head was spinning like crazy overthinking the worst scenarios possible.

At times like this you just wanted to do anything but think about it. So you pulled your pants down slowly and glide your hand underneath your Lacy underwear. A small sharp gasp leaving your mouth as you slowly rub your clit. The entire sensation sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers dance slowly to your pussy slowly gliding them in making you gasp at the stretch. It felt so fucking good.

But unbeknownst to you while you were fucking yourself. Your curtains were slightly open. And there. In a dark outfit was Scott. He slowly groaned lifting his phone out of his pocket and started recording you touching yourself. A sickening grin as he watched your fingers fuck your sweet little pussy soaking those pretty panties. He was sickeningly hard.

You kicked the underwear off spreading your legs further rutting your hips against your fingers arching them. Sweet little whines slipping from your mouth , your pussy oozing desperately. It was wrong really. To be getting off when everything was going on. But you needed a relief.

Scott reached into his pocket grabbing at his achingly hard dick through his pants and slowly started pumping his hand. He bit his lip hard to keep him quiet while he kept recording you. He was throbbing hard and his tip leaking desperately.

How pretty you looked. Putting on a show for him right?  You Moaned moving your fingers faster gasping arching your back and reaching a hand to unbutton your shirt to grab your breast playing with your hardening nipple at the same time. You shriek eyes closed and head thrown back. Fingers sliding out to coax your aching clit rubbing in quicker circles. Oh you were a sight. Quite literally.

Scott moves his hand faster , squeezing his dick at the same time trying to match your pace, he had never been so hard in his entire life. He keeps the camera steady listening to your sweet little whines. All splayed out for him. And then you got close. Painfully close. The orgasm came crashing down and you moan again arching your head back desperately trying to catch your breath.

Scott's balls tightened, he squeezed his dick harder fucking into his hand through the cloth before he knew it. His boxers were soaked with his warm cum, He finishes the recording and disappears.

Just as you caught your breath and started to pull on some clothes. Your phone pings. An unknown number.

"Smile for the camera sweetie!" You felt sick. Then you realised the curtains were open slightly. How could you be so stupid. Quickly you went over to the window to see if anyone was there. They weren't. The thudding of your heart filled the room. The message glowed hauntingly and you hesitate before replying to it.

- Who is this??? This is not funny!!

Read 21:35

Typing...

-Sorry! Wrong number! 

It wasn't. Scott knew exactly what he was doing. You didn't. Your heart was in your throat as you deleted the chat trying to calm down. Maybe what you needed was some sleep. Maybe you were just. Tired.

When Scott got home that night he pulled up the video again laying in bed and taking himself out of his boxers pulling up the video. He was hard all over again. He felt gross. He felt free. Desperate. Stroking his dick and watching you touch yourself. He needed it like he needed air. His tip was throbbing and oozing with cum as he fucks into his hand harder. Muttering "you're so pretty... need to keep you" His head thuds as he groans listening to your whines. The feeling of his balls tightened spluttering cum all over his chest .. hand. The phone in his hand he brings to his lips.

Oh he's sick. He knows it. He needs you though.

With a cloth he wipes his non dominant cum covered hand and begins writing another note.

The next day you had gotten ready for work throwing on the pants and storm par shirt. Head still spinning. After a quick coffee you made it outside to your car , on the windscreen. Was a note.

A wave of nausea hits you. The coffee you had coming back up your throat and causing you to spew up onto the grass by your car leaving a vile taste in your mouth. What.  The fuck.

And now you were going to be late. Great! Let's piss Scott off while we're at it. You frantically got into the car driving all the way to work and fling yourself out running inside out of breath. Everyone looking up from the storm data to look at how pale you were, how your eyes watered.

"Jesus rookie! What happened to you?" Javis jaw dropped. Kate eyes widen and you can hear someone clear their throat. When you turned around Scott is stood arms crossed.

"Cutting it fine aren't we kid?" He raises an eyebrow at you and your heart thudded all over again.

"I'm really sorry! It's been a hectic night and a hectic morning! It wont happen again!" You splutter out. He pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and puts his hand up with the other.

"Just ... it's fine. See that it doesn't.. get some water. I'll have a word with you later... you look like you've just been sick" He places some gum in your hand and walks off leaving you.

"Are you okay? Scott said we have to keep an eye on you! Troubles at home?" Kate asks and you sigh popping the gum into your mouth.

"Something like that. Just probably someone trying to scare me" You answer politely and she nods returning to her work.

Later on you were taking a break from reading weather maps and looking out for potential cells. But nothing. You rest your head against the wall and feel a tap on your shoulder making you screech.

"JESUS! Kid it's just me!" Scott puts his hand up in defence and you sigh calming down and he leans against the wall next to you.

"Talk to me. What happened?" He crosses his arms waiting. Listening for you to start talking.

"I got another note okay..." you passed him the note from before. His jaw clenches and looks at you.

"Look.. maybe someone's playing a sick Joke on you .. what exactly were you doing last night?"

You shook your head. No way were you about to tell your superior that you were getting off. He snaps his gum and tilts his head.

"How am I supposed to help you if I don't know what's going on?" He asked. That was true.

"Okay! Fine ! I was having ... some me time. And I don't know I got a little into it and I didn't know that my curtains were open a little!" You groan and he listens knowingly and lets out a little chuckle.

"You fucked yourself with your curtains open? Kid.. what the fuck!" You groan putting your hands over your face and he grins sickeningly pulling them away from your face.

"I didn't realise okay! I had enough on my mind to notice ! " He places a hand on your shoulder leaning down again.

"First of all still very silly. I think maybe you just have a creepy neighbour or someone is messing with you . I told you. Nobody is going to hurt you. I'm serious from now on call me okay?"

You sigh nodding at him. He was probably right. You shouldn't have let the curtains open. But he knew the more he fed you sweet little lies. The more you would come back to him when you were scared.

"Thank you Scott.. I'm sorry I was almost late.." There's a soft glint in his eyes as he rubs your back and leads you back inside.

"S'fine kid don't stress it. And for the love of god. Close your curtains next time!"

Woah uhm. Hi HES NASTY🤗🤗🤗 Definitely a little different to what I post !! Kinda scared ! But HI! I hope you enjoy , should have more stuff out real soon on him

Thank you for reading:)