no matter where it is—restaurants, manor, home, benches—he cannot get it right the first time. his back, slightly hunched from months of being chained to that forsaken wheelchair, made him stiff and uncomfortable often times.
and he knows what it does to you.
the subtle lift of his hips, the way his thighs flex as he shifts around to get comfortable. he sees the way you try not to stare, the flush in your skin and the way your pupils dilate almost instantly.
especially in his suit.
the cargo pants that hugged him in all the right places, the stretch of the fabric over this lap and his thighs that spread immediately. he’d hang his arms over his legs, hips shifting downward. he’d press his back flush against the back of whatever he was sitting on, enticing eyes just swirling with amusement as the less-than-discreet glances you were giving him.
jason, at some point, had began to weaponize it in his favor.
if you were upset with him, he’d sit across from you. you’d cross your arms and watch him lift his hips, back sliding against the cushion as his legs spread wide. he’d tilt his head, a quiet invitation—a choice, not a demand.
he’d grin so arrogantly when you’d cave, climbing onto his lap and kissing that stupid smirk off his face. his hands would find your hips, adjusting you to sit directly on him.
“i hate you,” you’d mutter, feeling the way his hips shifted and his thighs flexed beneath you.
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BATBOYS & APOLOGIES | ft. bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake
contents :: smau. established relationship. fluff. gender neutral reader, except for in bruce's and dick's ( im sorry, i didn't even realize it until i had already finished writing )
lambie's notes :: i've never made something like this before ^^7 so please forgive me if it isn't the best or if the layout is a bit wonky. i had a lot of fun, these are nice to make between fics. i have lots more planned ( but i will also take requests ^u^ )
Includes: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan, & Tim Drake
Summary: How would they react to "Lucky You" jeans
Content: f!reader unless you ignore the vaginal vocabulary, might be oc, fingering, & oral. Tell me if I missed any others .ᐟ
✶⋆.˚Jason Todd
Jason would be fumbling with the zipper, probably in a hurry, when his eyes caught something unusual. He’d pull it down further, trying to see the words more clearly, his eyes catching the printed letters: “lucky you” with a clover at the end.
A slow, predatory like grin would spread across his face, breath catching in his throat. The realization hitting him like a physical force.
”Lucky me?” he’d breathe out, voice rough and thick, panting from previously kissing you.
He’d then tug down the jeans down faster, a possessive, urgent need igniting within him.
”Yeah,” he’d practically growl, his voice low and raw, “damm right. Lucky me,” before forcefully getting rid of your underwear, spreading your legs in the process as well.
✶⋆.˚Bruce Wayne
The door to his quarters slam open, he’s carrying you in his arms, lips and tongues intertwined.
The air was now filled with warmth and the longing for each other's touch. Bruce throws you on to the soft mattress of his king sized bed, both of you pulling away from the kiss.
As you shifted slightly, trying to quickly unzip your jeans, Bruce's gaze shifted down, noticing the "lucky you” peeking from the inside of your jeans.
A slow, genuinely delighted smile spread across his face.
Lifting his head up to look at your face, his usual neat black hair now messy and scrambled from your fingers tugging and pulling at it earlier. Hovering over you, he whispers in your ear, “Lucky me?” He then reaches down to gently trace the edge of the fabric. “You have no idea how lucky I feel,”.
He pulls you closer, your clothed cunt meeting his crotch.
“Now let me make you feel good, hm?” He says as he pulls both your unzipped jeans and underwear off.
✶⋆.˚Hal Jordan
His large body hovers over yours, lips meeting your neck. He’s kissing and nibbling all over your skin.
Hal pulls away, before he moves down to your legs, his face in between your thighs. You could feel the warmth from his breath landing on your clothed cunt.
His fingers travel to the zipper of your jeans, pulling the small piece of metal down. His eyes notice the imprint of the words splattered on the fabric of your jeans. He looks up to your face and then back to the words before letting out a low chuckle.
”Lucky me? Always with the little surprises, aren't you?” he asks, a gentle teasing tone in his voice.
“Lets see how lucky I really am then,” he says with a glimmer in his eyes.
Hal swiftly pulls down both your jeans and underwear, exposing your throbbing pussy. His mouth latches onto your heat, swirling his tongue around the clit. Your hands grip his brown hair, while his mouth continues its work on your lower area, determined to make you finish.
✶⋆.˚Tim Drake
Tim’s gaze locked with yours, a shared amusement dancing in his eyes as your hand deliberately went to your jeans zipper.
He watched the slow, almost teasing way you began to unzip them, a knowing smirk playing on your lips as the hidden “Lucky you” was revealed.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his voice met your ear “What have we here?” His hand goes down to cover yours, the touch sending a jolt through you as he helps you to finish unzipping.
Your hips lift up slightly to make it easier to discard the jeans and your underwear. Tim then pulls you upward so that your back meets his chest before forcing your legs apart, his fingers glide down between your thighs. ”Wet already?” he says before pushing in two fingers, forcing a moan out of you.
warning: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering, french kiss, teasing, dirty talk, established relationship (married), no real plot
A/N: @bat1nsignia I finally finished writing this. I WAS IN HEAAAAAT!!!😩
The sharp crack of the cue ball echoes through the quiet billiard room.
Bruce watches another striped ball disappear into the corner pocket before calmly straightening to his full height.
“Your turn.”
You twirl your cue between your fingers, a smile tugging at your lips. “You sound awfully confident.”
“I have reason to be.”
“Hm.”
You stroll around the table until you find the perfect angle, deliberately taking your time. You bend over the felt, lining up your shot with exaggerated concentration.
You don’t miss the way the room falls quiet. Without looking up, your smile widens.
“You know,” You murmur. “staring is very inappropriate.”
Bruce doesn’t answer. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest. “You planning on taking the shot?”
“Maybe.” You glance at him over your shoulder, catching his lustful eyes on you before looking back at the table. “Or maybe I’m just seeing how long I can keep your attention.”
A beat passes before you continue, “It seems to be working.”
Bruce lets out the quietest huff of amusement. “You think that’s what’s happening?”
You stand, pretending to consider it. “No? Or is it?”
“No.” His gaze doesn’t leave yours. It’s still fixated on you. He slowly steps closer, stopping directly in front of you. “I already had my attention on you.”
For just a second, you forget about the game. Bruce stands dangerously close to you. You feel his hands rest on each side of your hips.
“That’s not very fair.” You barely whisper.
“Neither are you.”
His one hand now comes up to cup your face, his thumb anchoring your face now. Without wasting another second, his lips collide with yours with urgency of a dam breaking.
A heat flares through your chest, making your pulse hammer, and Bruce feels the blood rush down, causing his cock to grow painfully hard in his pants.
He coaxes your lips apart, the heat of his breath matching the rush of your pulse. The gentle sliding of your tongue against his was intoxicatingly sweet which causes him to let out a soft groan. He pushes you gently against the pool table, and presses himself between your legs.
You grip his collar, pulling him deeper into the kiss while still kissing passionately. His hand releases your face, and instead they slip into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss any further.
There is a lingering hint of refined espresso that you could taste.
“Bruce, please.” You whine as you feel him pressing himself into you.
“I know sweetheart.” He grins because he knows exactly how much you need him.
He releases your hair and starts working on taking off your clothes, leaving you naked. With one sweep of his hand, he clears the table, and gently lays you down.
As if he wasn’t teasing you enough already, you feel the chalked cue stick tracing against the inner side of your exposed thigh.
“Please.”
“Don’t rush, Love.”
Bruce lets out a deep chuckle before he drops the cue stick on the floor. Setting himself between you legs again, he starts kissing you again. His one hand travels down your body and stops just above the slick heat.
Gently, he slides two of his fingers into your pussy. The touch causes you to gasp against his lips.
“So wet for me, fuuuuck.”
His fingers move in a slow, and teasing motion. As he finds the sensitive spot, he starts pressing with a little pressure. A soft moan escape from your lips, causing you to be unable to kiss him.
“Fuck. Bruce, I’m close.” You say as you feel the trembling release form in your lower stomach.
“Yeah? Already?” He replies, clearly making fun of you. “Cum on my fingers then.”
And you do as he says, cumming over his two fingers. As he removes his fingers out of your pussy. You let out a quiet whine at the empty feeling.
“You want it so bad, don’t you love?”
“Fuck yes, Bruce. Just fuck me already.”
“So bossy.” He chuckles.
He stands straight again, and his fingers are working on removing his belt around his waist. The, he removes his pants alongside his boxers. His big and hard cock springs free, causing you to let out a gasp.
Bruce clearly heard the gasp at which he shakes his head with a smirk on his face. “Nothing you’re not used to, baby.”
His rough hands spread your legs further apart, and places himself perfectly in front of your wet pussy.
“Take a deep breath.” He tells you, and you do. As soon as you inhale, you feel his big and veiny cock enter your slick pussy. You let out a wet moan at the feeling.
“Fuuuck.” He lets out a gasp as soon as he feels how tight you are around him, even though he stretched you out a few minutes ago.
Bruce stops for a second once he pushed his whole length into your cunt. His hands resting on your hips, and your hands are gently holding his wrists.
As soon as he feels you relax around him a little, he starts moving inside you. He starts picking up the speed after a few grinds, thrusting inside you now. You feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. The feeling makes your spine arch off the pool table.
“Yes- oh god, please don’t stop- fuck, just like that.”
You dig your nails into his wrists but it doesn’t bother him. Instead, it only makes him happy. Knowing that he is the reason why you’re a complete mess right now.
“You feel so hmph- good.” A ragged breath escapes him shortly after.
“Can you feel me hmph- in your stomach, baby?” He asks you, making you release one of his wrists. He takes your hands and presses it gently on your lower stomach, and you do feel his cock move inside your cunt.
But that is not the only thing you feel.
You feel yourself coming closer again, causing you to clench around him. Bruce notices. Of course he does.
“Wait baby, hold it in a little bit longer.”
“I need to cum, please.”
“I know, sweetheart. Just a little longer.”
You whimper softly.
Bruce thrusts inside you a few more times before he feels his balls start twitching.
“Let me cum inside you, hm?”
“Fuck- Yes, Bruce, yes!”
Bruce lets go completely, and cums inside your pussy. Filling you up with his release, threatening to spill out of you. A breathless gasp leaves your mouth.
You feel the shockwaves of pleasure wash over you, cumming hard enough to push his cock out of you a little.
“That’s my wife.” He says proudly, kissing your now sweaty forehead.
Guy Gardner/Reader, Bullseye/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader, Johnny Storm/Reader, 1.8K
a/n: another request I finally got around to working on! enjoy :)
cw: SMUT/18+ only, sex tapes, mating press, humiliation at being exposed for liking smut, ambiguous genitalia, gn!reader
masterlist ao3 requests
PREVIEW:
Turns out your partner doesn't know what's really going on in your romance book after all.
DC/Reader, Marvel/Reader (18+)
Guy Gardner:
“What fuck is an alpha?” Guy asks in the lull of the evening, when the two of you are a drowsy tangle of limbs entwined on the couch. It’s a question that might go unnoticed by any passerby. But to you, it’s the culmination of a tidal wave of adrenaline cresting through the marrow of your veins.
You go still, your heart seized in the caging of your throat, rendered voiceless for a terrible second. When you do finally shore up the necessary willpower to speak again, your question is pitched at an awkward, stilted volume.
“Where did you hear that from?” You ask, staring intently at him; Guy continues to stare into the blue yonder of the TV, mesmerized by the artificial glow. He appears nonchalant when he suggests a semblance of a shrug.
“Read it in one'a yer books.” He returns, and sniffs disinterestedly. This is when you feel your heart make startling plummet from the pit of your mouth straight down into your ass.
“Which book?” You ask, and this time you think that you’re able to affect your voice quite nonchalant. Finally, those blue eyes slink over from the arc directed towards the screen and settle upon you.
“The ones you been keepin’ buried under the comic books and the Simarillion,” Guy informs you—and then the dam finally breaks and that wicked, wicked smirk breaks passivity on his face—he knows.
“The ones with the werewolves, baby?” His voice is full of malicious glee, his hands already navigating up the meter of your body currently collapsing into the couch.
“Oh my God—”—You groan, hucking a dramatic arm over the plane of your vision. Perhaps if you close your eyes tight enough you can manifest the moment to simply vanish into the ether, and Guy’s smart mouth with it.
“Nah, nah, where you goin’?” Guy taunts. The salacious leer in his voice is all but audible as he works to peel your arm back, letting you gaze upon the delight in his eyes.
“Learned a lot about them wolves in that book—”
“Guy, please—”—You groan, clenching your eyes tightly shut. “Just let me die in peace, please.”
It’s not enough to distract you from the steamed chuckle that he makes into the crook of your neck, the scrape of his teeth as he makes marked inventory of your pulse’s uptick.
“Die?” He asks, insulted at the very thought. “Think there’s some things I gotta do first—”
His hand is already luring its way down the hem of your pants, working to coax you out of your clothes. To your surprise, you find yourself letting him. The wandering navigation of his hand is already stirring up a familiar, necessary heat in between your legs, under the simmer of your skin.
“—Heard there’s something with a knot I gotta do on you,” Guy chuckles lewdly, his mouth journeying down the warming tack of your body, “To mark you as mine.”
His tongue makes excellent argument as to why you should let him continue. “Wouldn’t want me to letcha go without people knowing you’re Guy Gardner’s, right?”
Perhaps Guy’s got a point there.
Bullseye:
When he sinks his cock into you, it’s all you can do to restrain a terrible moan that grits out through your teeth. He always fills you up so perfectly, your walls working to adjust to the impossible size of him, the taper of his cock spreading you wide.
He chuckles, his hand guiding the crook of your legs. One of your thighs catches around the width of his hip while the other is pinned under the weight of his own, trapping you in the spot.
He hums, a look of downright lustful malevolence taking occupation on his face, enjoying the way that your back arches as he drags his cock further into you. Your face twists in pleasurable torment, sheathing him to the hilt.
“Oh, looks good,” He tuts as he lets the head of his cock nose at the back of your walls; another wave of pleasure crests over you in a bolt of sensation. Through the fog of tactile joy, you’re dimly aware of the way that he tilts his head in appraisal to approve of how you take him in such diligent line.
“But—”—There’s the sound of a page flipping, and he ruts his hips into you to distract you from his consultation—“—That’s not exactly how they act in this scene.”
As if you can read it, he turns the romance novel—the very book that’s placed you in this situation—revealing the pages lined with the steamy scene that you had just begun. That is, until Bullseye happened upon you reading it, and had other ideas.
“On this page—”—His hips roll with such expert fluidity that all you can do is turn your head in profile, clenching your teeth around the pillowcase—“—It says that they’re lost in the throes of orgasm—”
His free hand seizes around the ample flesh of your waist, making you gasp. But this is swallowed in quick succession by the slick pump of his cock into you, summoning the pornographic sounds of his skin slapping against yours. All you can do is let yourself be fucked into, a mere prop in this passion play he’s orchestrating.
“—And I don’t think you’re quite there yet.” He grins, an insatiable gleam in his eye. “Looks like I gotta get you there quick.”
When he glides into you again, an electric shock of pleasure bolts up your body, and you make a strangled gasp.
“Yeah, that's more like it.” He makes a low, throaty chuckle. “Wanna make sure it’s accurate from page to screen, after all.”
You set a bleary smile at the tripod that he’s set up in the corner, the red light blinking to indicate it’s in use. But that’s all that you can do before he gets into the process of fucking you until you can’t think anymore.
Dick Grayson:
“You know,” Dick says, turning his head to better appraise the passage that he’s taking documented inventory of, “I don’t think you can physically do this.”
“You mean, I can’t, or it’s just not realistic?” You ask him, trying your best not to engage in the classic murder-suicide scenario.
“Not that you couldn’t,” Dick is quick to reassure you as he continues to peruse the page, learning how the book’s main character is getting the business, “But I don’t think it’s physically possible.”
“Which part?” You ask, craning your neck to look at the specific part of the paragraph he’s made it to; the crook of his pointed finger directs you to a rather mattress-breaking interlude. “Oh, that one—”
You shrug dismissively—as though a small quibble like impossible physical contortions will restrict your sensibilities. “Well, it’s part of the fantasy.”
“The fantasy is getting twisted into a pretzel?” Dick arches a brow, his eyes clearly communicating the disbelief he takes with that statement. You shake your head, proffering a finger to better educate your misguided partner.
“The freakier the position, the hotter the fantasy,” You explain primly, taking due diligence to inform him, “The more impossible the spinal contortion, the more risqué it sounds—thus, the more titillating it becomes.”
“I didn’t know snapping your spine was risqué,” Dick murmurs with the enlightenment of someone freeing themselves from the cycle of samsara. “I just assumed it was a no-go in sex.”
“What makes you say that?” you ask him, summoning the draw of his eyes. The two of you regard each other in taut silence as you consider the nonverbal challenge that you’ve levied his way.
This is how you end up with your ankles hooked over his shoulders, near-folded in half as he sinks his cock into you. As he pants openly against your ankle, drinking in the half-lidded pleasure that you’re awash in, luxuriating in the punched-out moan that basks over him.
“Oh, fuck—”—You clench into his waist, which rolls into you, his cock pumping into you with ease—“—This is so fucking good—”
“Yeah,” Dick groans as he continues the experiment, working his length into you to summon another broken moan, “It is, baby.”
Johnny Storm:
“I didn’t know you were into this kind of stuff,” Johnny confesses as he continues to appraise the rest of the chapter. You can’t help but shift your weight from one foot to another, subjecting him to the careful evaluation of your stare.
“It’s just for fun,” You admit, trying not to worry your hand around your wrist. Perhaps it would’ve been more conducive just to have Johnny incinerate you on the spot.
“And what’s the, uh,” Johnny asks as he flips the book over, sparing a glance to the back cover, “Genre of this one again?”
“It’s,” you huck a sigh through your teeth, “Romantasy. It’s not high literature, but it’s for fun, y’know?”
“Right,” Johnny nods, sucking through his teeth. “Why do the knights have to have sex with each other again?”
“It’s to help break a curse the Clan of Dragons set on their families generations ago,” you explain, a slurry of syllables making stunted verbalization. As if saying them any faster will make it more digestible to him. Already, he’s regaling you with a dubious cock of his brow as he looks back.
“How come they have to do it in front of all the dragons?” He asks—you press your hands to your hips in impertinent display.
“Well, how else are they supposed to know if they don’t see it?” You ask hotly, defending your choice of literature. He snickers, before turning his eyes slantways back to the page.
“Won’t lie, though,” he comments, closing the book with a fluid, one-handed motion, “It did give me some ideas, though.”
“Oh?” You ask, crossing your arms over the plateau of your chest. Already he's discarding the book gently to nearby countertop, swallowing up the distance between the two of you with easy, ambling stride.
“Yeah,” he grins—and at this, the slow, roiling dissipation of steam begins to slough from his shoulders, his hands, his arms that spread open for you—“—Couldn’t help but get a little hot and bothered reading all of that.”
The smoke continues to issue from his body in sluiced evaporation, indicating the crescendoing interest he has in this conversation. But you can't help but groan, your eyes rolling to the ceiling as you accept the clutch of his embrace.
“You just wanted an excuse to say that.” You grumble into the plane of his chest, feeling the ghost of vapors that whisper past you.
“Maybe,” his grin is all-too-delineated in his answer, “but I was thinking we could get in some practice too, if you’re down.”
As his hands start to roam down your body, tantalizing in their descent; well, you can’t find any argument with that.
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clark usually radiates heavy narcissism, his ego far too inflated for his own good. except for now, of course.
his demeanor is much different when you're sitting behind him on the bed, your arm wrapped around his waist and fisting his flushed, leaking cock.
"oh– oh fuuuuck–" he's a wiggling, mewling mess, totally at your mercy. your stroking remains a constant, agonizingly slow movement on his dick, despite his incessant pleading.
"baby, please, i– shit!–" he's cut off when your hand stops and tightens around him painfully, "clark, not yet" you can feel him throbbing in your palm, glistening beads of precum slide down his shaft to coat your fist as you resume.
he's squirming uncomfortably, grasping at the sheets next to him and whimpering. "i've been– i've been good!" he tries to convince you, and it's not that he hasn't been good, but it's just too much fun seeing him so needy while you edge him.
"i know, you've been such a good boy, huh?" you're being plain cruel now, you know the praise will fly straight to his dick. "yes!" he gasps, suddenly bucking his hips "yeah- mommy–" you could laugh at just how fucking pathetic he sounds like this, his dick twitching violently from being treated like a dog.
"convince me, baby" you tut, speeding up your strokes until theres a lewd squelching sound, his legs shaking everytime your thumb runs along the slit on his pretty pink tip. he moans pornographically when you fist him quicker, his abs flexing with his restraint.
"oh, god" he whimpers, his balls are heavy with cum, right on the edge. "pleasepleaseplease mommy– i've been a g'boy, your g'boy!" his pleading is nothing short of an ego-booster for you, this big strong alien all putty in your arms.
once you finally give him the release his body's been aching for, he's hiccuping thank you's and shooting his warm, sticky release all over the front of his shirt and your hand in globs.
panting and recovering from his orgasm, he situates himself to lay his head fully in between your clothed tits, not caring to clean up the cum coating his front. "thank y'mommy" he mumbles out, eyes half-lidded. he lets you card your fingers through his hair soothingly and coo at him, melting into you.
fluff, maybe slight angst??, not exactly aftercare i just didn’t know what to name this lol
you felt wally's weight collapsing on top of you and his warm breath against your face as his heavy pants mixed with your own. your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, keeping him close to you, and you felt wally freeze in your embrace. "just hold me for a moment."
"sure." he mumbled, a little stumped from the sudden affection. "you okay? need anything?"
"i'm good." you spoke quickly, in a high pitched, breathy voice, and let out a particularly sharp exhale, as you were still trying to regain your breath. "it's just that i still need to get used to this, you know?"
wally heard you laugh softly at your own words, but his heart skipped a beat at the implications behind them, and he was glad that you could not see his surprised expression, was it something you were actually willing to go through with? "what do you mean?"
"it's just that sex with superspeed can be a bit rough, you know?"
"right..." he trailed off, but decided not to press on the matter, he'd just have to wait some more to find out if you were actually planning on having sex with him often enough to end up getting used to his powers. "sorry about that."
"that's fine, i like it." you tightened your arms around his neck. "just need the support right now."
"sure." he was still feeling a bit awkward, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close to his chest anyway, allowing you to relax into his arms and your breath to even out. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest against his own, your warm skin against his, and heard your heartbeats slowing down to finally synchronise with his.
he was sure the moment felt a lot more intimate than anything you'd agreed on. still, wally decided to allow himself to take in your warmth rather than push you away, it'd been you who'd started it after all and he was not going to be the one to stop you. you felt tired, you wanted to be held, and he was the one responsible for it, so he shouldn't deny you of that, right?
one arm tightened around your waist while the other snaked up your back to tangle his fingers in your hair. he liked having you this close. even after the activities you'd been engaging in prior to this moment, he felt a lot closer to you like this. it felt nice, maybe he shouldn't be enjoying the softness of the moment as much as he was.
he stayed still for a few seconds, taking in your scent and listening to your soft breaths fanning against his neck. he wasn't sure if you were planning on falling asleep like that but he would let you if you needed to.
he pressed a kiss to your temple and hoped that it wasn't too much for you, hoped that you wouldn't be able to feel all the love he had for you, that he was sure practically radiated off his skin while he held you like this.