this story is just for that one reader

Your make up is strewn across the bathroom counter, but this is out of shot. Instead, the skin care products are all neatly lined up on Bruce’s side.

You’re dressed in a fluffy white robe with your initials embroidered, hair clipped away from your face. Your make up from the gala is still on and you’re beautiful diamond studs— a present from Bruce, glitter under the bathroom’s lights. 

“Hello!” You smile at the camera. “And welcome to Vogue Beauty Secrets. Today, I’ll be showing you my skincare routine for after galas. We literally got back from the gala..." 

You glance over at Bruce, who is getting rid of his tie in the main bedroom. Luckily, the camera can’t see him. "What, twenty minutes ago?"

"Twenty-three," he corrects.

You laugh. "Twenty-three minutes ago. I wanted to film this while everything was still on because I feel like that's the only way to really show what works for me."

You carefully unclip the earrings, gently setting them down on a tiny golden plate. The camera picks the small metallic sound of the diamonds clicking against the metal. “These are usually the first thing to go because I'm terrified of dropping one down the sink. Bruce says that's what insurance is for, but I think he'd still judge me."

Somewhere off-camera, “I absolutely would.”

You laugh. “He's lurking somewhere off camera, don’t mind him.”

Slow and sure steps approach, Bruce’s is wearing a matching robe to yours and fluffy slippers the hotel provided. He looks absolutely adorable, but not like the camera sees it– the angle is too far off.

You pick up the cleansing balm, a yellow thing with a metallic lid. “This is the Elemis Cleansing Balm and an absolute jewel.” You rub the balm with circular motions all over your face. “And no, this isn’t sponsored.”

“When people always ask what my biggest beauty secret is.." You slightly turn your body in Bruce's direction. He grabs a cotton cloth, previously soaked in warm water. “It's probably hydration. Which is the most boring answer imaginable, but unfortunately it's true.”

Bruce begins removing the make up, with soft and soothing motions. His eyes are soft and focused on the task. Your heart swells, how is it you have such an amazing husband?

"People always think the gala is the exhausting part." Your eyes are still closed as Bruce keeps wiping a stubborn streak of mascara. "It's actually this. You're tired, your feet hurt, and the last thing you want to do is spend another ten minutes in front of the mirror." You smile. "It helps that Bruce loves to help with my skincare.”

He smiles, small and just for you. “If I didn’t you’d probably forget.”

You laugh. “That's not true!” You turn to the camera again. “Show them the cloth.”

Bruce’s massive hand appears in frame, veins noticeable and his golden wedding band shining. The cloth is now dirtied with varying shades of brown and a speck of maroon. 

“As you can see I was wearing loads of make up, and for that reason– where is i–”

Bruce hands you the next product. 

You barely look at him. “I use a second cleanser.” 

You quickly apply it. “Okay, boom! Makeup is off.” You move your head, showing the different angles. “Now comes the fun part.” A small pause. "When I was younger I used to think skincare was something you only did when your skin looked bad."

Bruce hums. "It showed."

You gasp, pretending to be offended. "You're unbelievable."

“You still married me.”

You hum, smirking at the camera. “It’s never too late to get a divorce.”

“Hydration,” Bruce clears his throat, and hands you the SK-II bottle.

“I was actually terrible with skincare,” you say as you press your product-soaked hands onto your cheeks. “As Bruce here snitched.”

“She used a barsoap.” Bruce dryly says. 

You laugh, glancing at him. “You’re getting kicked out of my video.”

“But then who would hand you everything?”

Just as you’re about to reply your phone rings. You quickly rinse your hands in the sink before picking it up. You click the speakerphone and set it on the counter.

“Dick, baby. What's wrong?”

“Can’t I just call to ask how my wonderful mother is doing?”

You suppress a smile. “So nothing is on fire?”

“Not on fire, no. Hypothetically... are all the cars insured?”

Beside you, Bruce pales. “Is someone hurt?”

Dick groans. “Please don’t tell me Bruce is there.”

“Sorry, baby,” You pause, shooting the camera a look. “And yes, all of the cars are insured. After you and Jason crashed the last one we weren’t taking risks.”

“Oh, okay! Thank you mom, love you. Bye!” He hangs up.

You look back at the camera with a fond smile. "Everyone says parenting gets easier when they're older."

Bruce slowly shakes his head. "It just gets louder."

You nod. "He's right. When they’re older they have their own opinions and personalities, and they have the confidence to argue back.” You scrunch your nose. “Eventually they realize I can out-stubborn every single one of them.”

You sigh affectionately. “This is part of the routine as much as the other steps. There’s always some emergency– so even if my phone is off there are certain calls from certain numbers that come through.”

“That being the kids and me.”

You grab the next product before Bruce can beat you to it. He grumbles something, but it lacks any heat.

You show it to the camera. It’s a tiny dark purple bottle, with a black pipette as lid. You squint your eyes, trying to read the description. “This is the Skin Ceuticals Hya–Hyaluronic… Acid Intensifier... Multi-Glyyycan. Wow, what a mouthful. Who even came up with the name?”

"Scientists."

You shake your head. "It’s all marketing." You slowly apply it. “I forgot to mention the names of the other products– wait, can I mention them? Since I’m not doing publicity or anything. Wait, am I going to get sued?"

Bruce shakes his head. “I’ll ask the lawyers tomorrow.”

"See?" You grin at the camera. "I don't even have to think about things like that anymore."

Bruce shrugs. "Occupational hazard."

You shift the camera slightly, so it doesn’t catch you giving Bruce a sweet peck on the cheek. His shoulders slump and you give him another.

A second after you’re back to the camera. “Sorry guys, I can’t resist my husband.”

Your phone rings yet again, the noise interrupting you mid-speech. You immediately pick it up, setting it on speaker again.

“Mother.” Damian’s voice can be heard. “I understood Richard called you?”

You raise a conspiratorial brow at the camera. “Yes, darling.”

“Richard has made yet another poor decision.”

“Ahuh.”

“I simply wished to clarify that I advised against it.” 

“Thanks sweetheart— please go to sleep now, it’s getting late.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Fine,” he grumbles. “Good night, mother.”

“Good night Damian, I love you.”

He hangs up after a second.

You laugh, bright and amused. “I think we’ve gotten a bit sidetracked. But there’s only two more steps to go!”

Bruce’s hand appears on screen again, showing the eye cream. You offer your face, your side profile is the only visible thing aside from Bruce’s gentle fingers applying the cream on your under eyes.

“You know, you’re really good at this.”

He barely smirks. “I’ve had practice.”

"Bruce always does the eye cream." You whisper to the invisible audience.

"You poke yourself."

You roll your eyes. "Once."

He looks at you, stopping his ministrations for a second. 

You sigh. "Twice."

Then the lipbalm, this time it's you who shows it to the camera. “And now my favourite part. The lip balm!” You apply it on your lips. “This one is honestly so good…” you finish rubbing it, “I keep one in each bag. A bit pricey though.”

“I think everyone expects some elaborate forty step routine. There isn’t one, just make sure your skin is clean and healthy. Oh, and really, really important. Don’t forget to drink water. The key for the whole glowy look is to be hydrated.”

“And marry someone who reminds you.” Bruce chimes in.

You smile. “That one definitely helps.” You unclipp your hair away, your hair gently framing your face. “Be kind to your skin. Don’t pick it, it’ll just get red and you’ll get more pimples.” 

“Don’t compare yourself to people on the internet either— I’m literally standing under a studio light.”

Bruce leans into frame just enough to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him, then at the camera again. “Thanks for watching!”

Comment Section:

@snoopycftheday the fact that she looks BETTER after taking her makeup off ?????????

@vogue Thank you for joining us 🤍

@slutforthestarks Bruce's entire personality is 'yes dear'

@metropolismetrosfans she genuinely has the most insane face card i've ever seen

@parasocialalert she has the personality of a wallpaper lmao

@sukunt its sending me that 80% of the video is her flirting with her husband and talking to her kids and the other 20% is actual skincare

@selinakyle Can your husband fight?

@selinakyle Bruce CANNOT handle all that

@officialgothamgazette "there are certain calls from certain numbers that come through" being a mom never clocks out 

@slutforgreenlantern they're both so hot idk if i want to be them or be with them #pleasepleasepleaseletmethird

@boostergoldslefttoe just added everything to my cart... why is the total $672 😭😭😭

@daschundmom "Bruce is lurking somewhere off camera" Bruce proceeds to become half the video.

@user7696the way she instinctively tilted her face up so bruce could put on her eye cream... they've done this a thousand times IM SICK

@truthhurts she's only famous because she married bruce lmao she's not even that pretty

@mrswayneisamilf everyone talks about his green flags but can we discuss HER ?? she's so patient and kind every time one of the kids called she's my role model

He kicks off his boots by the door without looking, the way he always does, listening to the familiar sound of dirty soles thunking against the wood floor. Then, he heads straight to the sink like he's on autopilot, having memorized the layout of your house like it's his own. He doesn't even need to look down to where the fluffy hand towels are as he dries his hands.

There's a plate of dinner waiting on the table that's still hot and steaming, and you're standing near the counter, looking at him like he didn't just come home covered in bruises and blood. You're smiling in the cutesy, innocent way you always do. The way that boils Jason's blood in both a bad, and really good way.

"Hi, Jay," you say, your voice smooth like honey as you look up at him with big, sparkly eyes, like he's just your husband coming home late from work.

Jason swears under his breath and marches through the kitchen, hovering around you for a moment, before muttering a gruff "Hello." in return, slumping down into his usual seat at the dinner table, looking down at tonight's meal.

The plate's got roast chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and a pile of vegetables on the side. It's very balanced. It looks like food you'd see in a magazine with a recipe underneath. You cooked. Again. Like you do every night.

"Thought you might be hungry," you say, cheeks all pink from the stove's heat, or maybe just from looking at him. You get so bashful when he stares. "You want me to get you a knife or anything else?"

"No. S' fine." he grumbles, picking up a fork to start stabbing at his vegetables. You nod, still smiling all cute as you take out a jug of lemonade for him and pour him a class without asking, setting it down beside his plate, right before leaning down to press the softest, most innocent kiss to his cheek. Right near the cut on his jaw, his sweet spot. "Glad you're home safe."

Jason goes still at the feeling, a little grunt leaving him involuntarily. The second your lips brush over him, it's as though every muscle in his body tenses. His eyes flick to you, but you're already walking away, humming to yourself like you didn't screw him over with that little gesture.

What the hell are you doing, letting a guy like him into your house? Letting him sleep in the extra bedroom you cleaned just for him and eat off your table without asking for compensation? What kind of sweet, naive girl lets a man with knives and guns in his duffel bag and scars up his back and shoulders stay in her house like he's not dangerous?

"You shouldn't do that," he grumbles as you have your back turned to him, a deep scowl on his face. You blink, turning back toward him, confusion soft in your eyes. "Do what?"

"You know what I mean. The kissin'. The..." his voice gets tight, jaw ticking, "...the 'Jay' with your little giggle. Don't."

"Don't act like we're friends?' you ask, so innocently, head tilted in a way that makes him want to pounce on you. "We are friends."

Jason clenches his jaw. His fingers curl around the fork, knuckles white. "You should be more wary, is all" he mutters, frowning as you respond with a little huff and a playful eye roll, going over to check on the pies you made for dessert that are cooling on a rack.

He stares at the curves of your body, gaze panning from your hips, down to your thighs, and back up to your ass, plump in the cute little nightgown you're wearing, with the hem riding up your thighs enough to show your panties if you bent over. He can't take his eyes off of you, not for a second. He's looking at you to figure out how someone like you could possibly be real, let alone a part of his life. You feed him. You made him a safe house with gingham curtains and a soft bed and dinner waiting on the table every night without fail.

He's coiled so tight it feels like his skin doesn't fit right, seeing you flutter around the kitchen like everything's fine, apron tied snugly around your waist. You turn and meet his gaze again as he continues.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" Jason mutters all gruff, pushing back his chair and standing. His eyes are all dark and stormy. "You let a guy like me in your house. You give me food, a bed, clothes. You let me walk around your kitchen like I belong here." He steps forward slowly. "You don't even lock your fucking door."

Your throat bobs as you swallow, but your expression doesn't change. That soft, quiet sweetness still on your face like you've never even heard a threat before.

"I don't have to lock it because the only person who comes around here is you, and I know you."

Jason's frown deepens, and he crowds your space, hissing at you coldly. "You don't know shit about me." He stares down at you, jaw clenched, breathing through his nose. He keeps coming closer and closer to you, all while you don't even realize what you're doing to him, standing there in your cozy little kitchen, smelling like a dessert.

His body pushes you back into the counter, his jaw is clenched and lips twisted in a snarl. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, his voice rising. "You let me in here. You open your house up to someone like me and think I'm not gonna hurt you? You think I'm just gonna be your lil' prince charming?"

He shoves his hand against the counter beside you, trapping you in place. His face is inches from yours, but this time, you don't see the same tired, frustrated guy you've been taking care of. This time, all you see is the threat, the dangerous man who doesn't think you should have trusted him at all.

"I could strangle you, you know," he says all soft. His hand shoots out, quick and brutal, grabbing your neck just below your chin. "You think I wouldn't do it? You think I wouldn't snap your neck like a twig if I wanted to?"

Your pulse spikes. His grip isn't tight enough to suffocate you, just enough to make your heart pound harder. "Or what if I wanted to cut you?" His thumb presses into the side of your neck. he's learned you can make someone pass out if you push there hard and long enough. wouldn't take long if he did it to you, though. another reminder of how fragile you really are. "What if I wanted to steal everything in your house and leave you with nothing?"

You look up at him, whimpering softly at the feeling of his huge hand wrapping around your throat. Your smaller one grabs at his wrist, staring up at him with big, glassy eyes. "J-jason..."

"What if I wanted to tear off one of those flimsy lil' dresses you wear around me and fuck you?" He lets out a low mumble, tipping your head up and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. "You think they're cute, huh? You think I don't notice the way you dress like 'm not gonna want to tear you apart?"

Your breath hitches, and for a second, you can't find your words. He's crowding you now, pinning you to the counter so you have no way out. His thumb pushes harder on your lower lip.

You stare at him, your face flushed. Your chest is rising fast now, like you're trying to keep calm, like your body's betraying you even if your voice hasn't cracked yet. You're not saying anything, but your fear's loud enough without words.

Jason's still holding onto your throat, the heel of his hand digging into your pressure point while his thumb smushes against your soft lips. His chest heaves with each breath, his face twisted up even though deep down, he's thoroughly enjoying himself. He relishes in the slight tremble your body gives and the way you look up at him like you're starting to realize he's not savable.

He leans down to your level. "You scared now, sweetheart?" he mutters. You try to speak, but it catches in your throat. He can feel it under his hand, that flutter in your pulse. "Yeah," he breathes. "That's what I thought."

He tilts his head, leaning down to slot his mouth over your cheek, mocking the little kisses you always give him when he's home. He moans against your skin, starting to press sloppy kisses down to your jaw. He's done holding back, finally indulging in the terrible, heinous thoughts he's had about you since you let him into your home.

His hands roam under your dress, hiking it up to squeeze the globes of your ass, all while you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut.

He kisses up the side of your throat and up to your ear, huffing low so you hear every bit of how hot he is for you. "Lemme show you what bad men do to pretty girls who play house with 'em."

his hands move again. they don't stay in place for long. he's very unpredictable. one moves back to grip on your throat, while the other hand drags up the back of your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your nightgown until his rough fingers find bare skin. his breathing is ragged now, lips pressed to the curve of your neck like he's trying to inhale you.

"You smell s'sweet," he growls, nose brushing the soft skin beneath your jaw. "Always smell so fuckin' sweet."

He's spreading you apart before your brain can comprehend it, lifting you up with his free hand to guide you up onto the counter, manhandling you like you weigh nothing. Slotting his body between your legs, he looks down at your pretty cotton panties. Just as adorable as you, all lacy and pastel like you didn't have a clue what they'd do to him.

Jason huffs a breath through his nose, low and unsteady, staring at the soaked little patch in the middle. "Fuck," he mutters, dragging his thumb over the wet spot slowly and teasingly. "Look at this. You want me like this." His hand grips your thigh to keep you open, his gaze locked on your panties as he takes two fingers and pushes them up against your panties so he can trace your plump little pussy through the fabric, firm enough to make you twitch.

You jolt, grabbing onto his shoulder while your tummy flips. "Mmh... i-its good... b-but 'm sensitive..." you warn softly, trying to fight against his grip ever so slightly, but he keeps you spread for him with his firm hand. Your breath catches when he starts tugging your panties to the side, baring the warm air of the kitchen onto your even warmer hole.

His hand grips your hip, anchoring you in place while he teases your entrance with the pads of his fingers, just barely pressing in. You let out a strangled little sound, back arching as he slowly presses a finger inside you with a low groan. Your body clenches around him and it makes him twitch, a guttural sound leaving his chest. "Fuck, you're tight," he mutters, nose nuzzling yours. "So fuckin' warm. This pussy's been waiting for me, hasn't she?" You nod helplessly, eyes wide, lips parted as he pumps his finger inside you slow and filthy. He watches you fall apart for him, cheeks flushed and pretty little moans leaving your mouth with every curl of his finger.

His thick digit curls just right inside you, slow and deep, while his thumb rubs circles around your clit, not too quick, just firm and steady like he's testing how fast he can get you to fall apart. You whimper again, your hips rolling into his hand without thinking.

He watches the little faces you make while you're in heat like this, as well as the way your body reacts to his touch. His eyes are locked on the place where his finger disappears inside you with that delicious squelch, and once you're relaxed, he slides in a second to fill you up even more. You jerk, nightgown bunching up more at your waist as he shoves his fingers deep inside you, wanting to see how tight you can squeeze around them.

"Damn," he mumbles, "You're squeezin' the fuck outta me." His free hand grabs your thigh harder when you flinch back, nails digging just a little into your flesh to keep you still and wide open for him. He leans in, breathing heavy against your cheek as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit while his fingers keep stroking inside you, that slow, steady rhythm that's driving you crazy because it's just enough to have you trembling, but not enough to tip you over.

You whine out a soft "Jay," all desperate and teary eyed, your grip on his shoulders tightening as your legs start to shake. You don't even realize you're grinding down onto his hand until he growls, "Yeah… that's it. Use your words. You need it that bad, don't you?"

He keeps his face close to yours, eyes flicking between your mouth and your eyes, watching how dazed you look already, lips all swollen and wet from how much you've been panting. "Feels 's good! M-more..." You whine, your body starting to move on its own, hips rolling into his hand, trying to chase the pressure that's curling in your gut.

Jason doesn't let up. He just keeps fucking you with his fingers, deep and slow, his thumb pressed firm to your clit, working you in tight little circles until your legs are twitching and your mouth is open like you're gasping for air.

"You're already gonna cum, huh?" he murmurs, voice low and thick. "Already cryin' on my fingers like a needy little thing." You nod, head falling back against the cabinet behind you, your breath coming in short, desperate little bursts. " 'M gonna...Jay, I...I'm gonna..."

"Come, then," he orders, eyes locked on yours. "Cum on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how sweet this fuckin' pussy is."

You shatter around him body locking up tight before it all melts down at once, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you can't even stay upright without holding onto him. Your whole body trembles and he watches it all, jaw clenched, eyes dark and blown wide with how fucked he is for you.

He keeps his fingers inside you even after, not pulling out until you're twitching too much to take it, and even then, he pulls back slow, glancing down at the mess he made of you. He brings his fingers to his mouth without even thinking, licking them clean while he keeps his eyes on your face.

Then he leans in, mumbling in your ear. "You made a mess on my hand,"

Jason's gaze drops down to the tent in his jeans, thick and straining against the zipper, and he lets out a breath that sounds more like a growl.

"Take my cock out," he says roughly, eyes never leaving yours. Your fingers tremble a little as they reach for his belt, heart hammering in your chest while you work it loose, the clink of the buckle loud in the quiet kitchen. Jason's eyes are burning into your face the whole time, watching the way you fumble a little, the way your lips part and your breathing gets uneven while you tug his belt free, then pop open the button on his jeans.

You slide the zipper down slow, hands shaking just the tiniest bit, but you don't stop.

He helps you just enough to shove his jeans down his hips, groaning softly when you reach into his briefs and wrap your fingers around him. He's thick and hot and already leaking against your palm, and the second you touch him, his whole body stiffens.

"Jesus," he mumbles, chest rising and falling hard. You glance up at him through your lashes, a little dazed and shy, but your hand stays wrapped around him as you stroke him once, then twice, making his head fall forward, forehead bumping into yours while he groans.

He looks into your eyes, his voice all rough and shaking with how close he is to snapping. "You're gonna do it, alright? Not me." he says, jaw clenched. "You're gonna show me how dirty you are, and take me in your hand, and you're gonna line me up with that sweet little pussy like this was your fuckin' idea."

You nod even though you're buzzing and feel your body burning, and he watches you slowly wrap your hand snugly around his cock, his face close to yours as you guide him between your legs.

"Yeah," he mumbles, watching your face. "Just like that." You whimper when the head of his cock bumps against your entrance, slick and warm, and Jason moans low in his throat at the feel of you, the head of him just barely pushing inside.

Your fingers tremble as you line the head of him up with your entrance, glancing up at him as you press him against your folds. "It's so hard," you whisper, all breathless. "Your cock..."

"I know," He responds, watching you continue to guide him, soaked folds parting around the flushed head, barely nudging it in just enough for both of you to feel that first slide. " 's... fuck... c-cause I want you s'bad." He hunches over you a little, mouth hanging open as you finally line him up just right. His tip catches on your soaked entrance and he groans deeply, forehead pressing to yours again like he's trying to stay tethered to something.

He pants, grinding the head against you, not pushing in all the way yet, smearing your wetness all over the flared head of his cock while your thighs twitch around his hips. You make a tiny noise, all high and breathy, and he grins against your cheek. His nose brushes your temple while he shifts his hips just enough for his tip to nudge inside, slow and heavy. "Fuck... there we go, sweetness. 'S suckin me in now."

He grabs your thigh with his free hand, pushing it up until your knee's hooked over his forearm, giving him more room, more access, more of you. He doesn't push all the way in yet, just slides in a few inches, slow and aching, just enough to make your mouth drop open and your nails bite into his shoulders.

"Keep lookin' at me," he hisses. "Don't you dare look away. You let me in, shit... now you're gonna watch what I do to you."

Your eyes flutter open again, all teary and glassy and overwhelmed, and he groans and thrusts in deeper, hips jerking forward like he can't help it anymore, burying himself with a low, breathless curse. Both hands grab your thighs to hold you wide open while his cock sinks alllll the way inside, thick and throbbing inside you.

He sinks in all the way, slow but deliberate, forcing your body to stretch and take every thick inch, and the second he bottoms out, he stays there, buried deep inside you, breathing hard through his nose like he's trying to stay composed, but he's not even close. His hands grip your thighs so tight it makes your skin dimple, holding you still like he's afraid you'll run, like he knows you're not ready for how far he's about to take this.

"Fuck, it's good," he mutters, voice wrecked as he stares down at where you're joined. "Look at that. Fuckin' swallowed me whole, didn't you?" He gives a rough roll of his hips, just enough to make you jerk and gasp under him. "Tight little pussy- already squeezin' like she wants to keep me."

Your head tips back as a choked little moan slips out, your hands clinging to his shoulders now, nails dragging across his back without thinking. He groans, fucking into you harder now, faster. Your body jerks with the impact of his rough thrust, and he moans, loud and low against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bites down like an animal.

He keeps fucking into you with rapid, punishing thrusts, his body bracketed over yours, your legs forced wide apart so he can get deeper. You moan loudly, not bothering to hold back on being responsive. You're slicing into his back with your nails, mewling and panting his name harshly.

He growls at the pleasure pain you give him, rutting into you harder, like the sound of his name like that flipped some switch in him. "Say it again," he pants. "Say my fuckin' name."

You do, a little louder this time, all breathless and shaking. "Jason, mmh! please!"

"Fuck," he bites, his whole body shuddering as he pounds into you now, hips snapping forward again and again. "You're gonna let me ruin you, huh? That what you want, sweet girl? Gonna let me fuck the good right outta you?" You nod, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, not even sure if it's from how good it feels or how deep he's inside you, but it makes him groan, deep and ragged, like he's never seen anything more perfect.

His voice is nothing but a harsh whisper now. "I ever catch you lettin' another man in this house, I swear to god-"

You cut him off with a soft little moan, too blissed out to process the threat, and Jason grunts, cock pulsing inside of you as he scrapes against your gummy inner walls. You let out a loud, high whine, clenching tight around him, and he curses under his breath, leaning forward to kiss you rough and messy, dragging his tongue across your bottom lip.

The taste of you is too much for him, and he groans loudly, grabbing onto the back of your head so he can fully suck your tongue into his mouth and buck into you faster, like a dog in a rut. "Gonna cum f'you," He grunts, tearing out of you suddenly.

You whine at the loss of the full feeling inside your belly. and he grabs onto your plush thighs again, squeezing his throbbing, flushed cock and pumping it a few times before splurting all over your pussy. You pant, heart pounding in your chest.

He cums load after load on you, before dropping onto his knees and stuffing his face into your cunt, needing you to cum for him too. He doesn't want to wait for your sensitivity or that coil to fade away, and so he thrusts his tongue deep inside your sopping hole, eating out your cunt like it's the only dessert he needs.

You scream, ecstasy washing over you so suddenly that you can't even warn him when you cum into his hot mouth, watching him eagerly drink it all up and tongue fucking you through your orgasm.

He groans at your taste once again, unable to get over how sweet you taste. He stands and scoops some of the cum off his thighs and pushes his fingers lightly to your mouth. "Open." He mutters, watching you oblige with a dazed look in your eyes. He feels his cock twitch to life once more at the sight of you tasting him and looking into his eyes like he's just ruined you, which he has. Your hair is a mess and your lips are swollen, and your lower half is soaked with his cum.

"That's my sweet girl."

see more in my dc masterlist