#dc drabble

[innorality]

clark kent can feel everything. he hears everything, sees everything, smells everything... so best believe your orgasms are as pleasurable for him that they are for you.

he's already high off the sensations that your body allows him to witness during sex—the way your walls stretch everytime he thrusts up into you, the way you insides keep increasing the amount of wetness pooling between your legs, the way he can hear your eyes rolling back a bit further more at each stroke of his finger against your clit...

but it's only when you orgasm that he thinks he has truly hit the jackpot. when you whimper out his name while stuttering about how you're cumming, he already knows. he hears your blood rushing in your veins, he smells the cream oozing out of you, he feels your body heating up instantly.

the way your entire body is putting in maximum amount of effort to take him, to adjust to the kryptonian, makes him climax aswell.

and when he sees his cum sneak into your womb while using his x-ray vision, he thinks he might faint.

[soulless-bex]

Necromancer!Jason Todd

“We’re gonna need a necromancer,” John Constantine announced, sounding defeated.

“Aren’t you one?” “No. I do necromancy, sure. But that doesn’t make me a necromancer. There’s a difference.”

Everyone exchanged glances, unconvinced, but not well versed in magical lexicon to challenge him on the semantics of necromancy and necromancer. “Do you know one then?”

It’s Zatanna who answers, looking thoroughly irked. “Necromancers, true, naturalborn necromancers, are pretty rare. We might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack.” And just as everyone in the room deflated, taking Zatanna at her word, Constantine piped up once more.

“Actually, there is one.”

Zatanna’s eyes snapped onto him as several emotions flashed through her face. Surprise, confusion, realization, doubt, and finally, she settled on the mistrust that was customary when dealing with John Constantine.

“There’s only one known necromancer and they might as well be a myth with how little we actually know about them.”

“I mean yeah, he’s a secretive jerk, but I wouldn’t call our guy a myth. Just associable and deeply paranoid. Kind of like Batsy over there.” He made a face as the words came out of his mouth. “Actually, keeping the comparaisons with our resident fury might be for the best if we want to do business with the guy. He gets touchy about that and he’s nothing if not petty.”

“And how do you propose we get in touch with the Red Death?” “I could just call him,” Constantine shrugged.

At that Zatanna raised a brow. “You have the Red Death’s phone number?”

“Obviously. I taught the guy.”

Before anyone could question that statement, he pulls his phone from his trench coat and calls his supposed student (for some reason Constantine has the guy on speed dial??). He goes to press the phone against his ear, but with one look from the bat he rolls his eyes and sets it on speaker instead.

“The hell you want?” answers a gruff voice after a single ring. Batman visibly stiffens at that but Constantine doesn’t acknowledge it if he even noticed.

“Geez, rude much kid?” “I’m serious, John. If this is a social call then get lost. I don’t have the time.” “Well this is my lucky day then isn’t it? We need you. Urgently.”

There was a pause. Then a sigh. And then a hesitant but resigned “…who’s ‘we’?”

“The Justice League. Congratulations kid, you’re going to space,” Constantine replies dryly.

“Fucking hell…” the necromancer mutters before hanging up.

Silence fell onto the room. “So… where even are we supposed to meet you guys?”

“Oh no. We’re not going anywhere. He’s coming up.” “How?” “He has his ways.”

*** * ***

Minutes later, none other than the Red Hood stalked into the room, heading straight for Constantine and completely ignoring Batman and his feeble attempt to grab him.

“This better be important,” he growls.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Another borrowed prompt list for anyone to use in future.

Super soft intimacy

cradling the face, looking into their eyes

pressing foreheads against each other

sighing into the other's mouth

kisses all over the face

calling each other petnames they wouldn't use in public

hugging the other from behind

sliding hands under their clothes

softly stroking their warm skin

ruffling the other's hair

murmuring sweet things into their ears

stroking the other's finger while holding hands

nuzzling into their neck

massaging their feet

napping together

having the other's head on their lap

staring into each other's eyes

pressing soft kisses on their shoulders

smiling into the kiss

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[softvalentines]

clark hears it—he does. that sharp, elastic snap that cuts clean through the haze of heat and slick skin. he hears it the way he hears everything. crystal-clear, too in tune with the world around him for his own good. he knows what it means, too—knows exactly what just happened, what that sound was.

but still, he doesn’t stop. doesn’t even flinch. because clark kent is so insanely needy

instead, he shifts just slightly, dragging you further down the bed, arms bracketing your head as he drives himself back into your soaked, clenching cunt with a sound you’ve never heard from him before—something sticky-throated and low, a groan cut with the telltale rasp of desperation. “fuck—baby,” he gasps, and you don’t even realize what just happened, too full, too caught up in the burn of his cock dragging against your walls and the way your own arousal’s soaked all over your thighs and his pelvis. “g-god, you’re—so fucking wet. it’s—s’too much…” his voice shakes. he’s drooling, literally, a thin thread slipping down from the corner of his lips onto the pillow beside your cheek as he leans closer—his brows all drawn together, those sweet blue eyes foggy with effort.

he’s still going. like the condom didn’t just give out halfway through. like you’re not both sticky with the combination of your slick and his precum now steadily pulsing against your overstretched insides. you moan, back arching instinctively, and his hips stutter “feels s’good—feels too good—baby, i can’t—” you’re whining now, the words slipping from your mouth on instinct, barely even thinking. “clark—clark, f-fuck, it’s—i feel everything. you’re too—” you can’t even finish the sentence. he shudders above you, and you feel his cock twitch deep inside, sticky and hot and bare, so bare it’s sinful—like nothing between you two at all. he’s grinding now. not thrusting, not fucking—grinding, hips rolling deeper and deeper, trying to find that perfect spot that has your walls fluttering, that makes your toes curl and your mouth fall open in a gasp of his name. you whimper when his mouth lands on yours. he’s sloppy with it, tongue pushing between your lips in a kiss that tastes like sweat and sex and need. his hips keep moving, slower now, but firmer—more intentional.

he swallows again. there’s more drool trailing down his chin now, eyes glassy, pupils blown wide. he looks like a man half-drunk on your cunt and his own need. and when he cums inside you—bare, heavy, and endless—it’s with a strangled cry of your name, head buried in your neck, and his whole body trembling from restraint gone completely to hell.

you don’t even realize you’re crying until he’s kissing the tears off your cheeks, cock still deep inside, twitching with aftershocks. you’re both panting. slick. ruined. and full.

he doesn’t pull out. not yet.

instead, he just hums—low, almost reverent—like he’s proud. like he just made something sacred. “you’re gonna take all of it, right?” he asks, his voice breathy and so, sooo soft. “gonna keep it in for me, baby?”

[l13]

vacation!BRUCE WAYNE can’t stop fucking you<3

cw: NSFW 18+ MDNI !! f!reader, vaginal sex, raw sex, fingering (like for a sec tbh), creampie

wc: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble btw)

After a long day at the beach, you’re all sun-woozy- your body exhausted from the heat, limbs following your brain’s commands a liiittle too slowly. You’re sprawled out on the bed, the sound of the AC blowing almost lulling you to sleep.

You hear the shower turn off and make a mental note to yourself that you'll have to get up soon to shower next, once Bruce finishes up. See, he called dibs on the first shower, so you chose to lie on a clean towel on the bed, a hand over your eyes to block the late afternoon sun.

The bathroom door creaks open. You raise your arm slightly, blinking slowly up at Bruce “S'my turn?” you mumble, half asleep, and Bruce actually grins at you. He runs a hand through his wet hair, droplets falling everywhere, and you soak the sight up.

This man needed a vacation so badly. You were pretty sure you’ve never seen Bruce Wayne smiling so much in your life. And all it took was a little time off. Well, and fucking your brains out every change he got, apparently.

Still, it's safe to say that he was enjoying the getaway, and your heart clenches at how happy and relaxed he looks.

“Your turn.” he nods in reply, walking over to his suitcase with only a towel hanging over his waist, and you’re not tired enough so as not to peak at his ass when he walks by.

He glances back just in time to catch you staring, and chuckles under his breath when he turns to grab a pair of briefs from his bag, “Will I have to carry you there?”

You clear your throat and look away, slightly sheepish about being caught, and groan, stretching your arms above your head, “I’ll manage.. I think.”

You swear you only close your eyes for a second, but when you feel the bed dip next to you, and open them again, Bruce is already beside you wearing briefs and a white sleeveless shirt.

He smiles softly “Sorry, baby. Let me take this towel away, and you can sleep on the bed.” he says gently, tugging at the edge of the towel beneath you. You grab his forearm, shaking your head “No, no. I’ll go.” you murmur, eyelashes still feeling quite heavy. You felt as if you could still feel the heat of the sun wrapped around you like a blanket.

Bruce reaches for your jaw, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek softly, and he leans in to kiss you, almost as if he can’t help himself.

You hum into the kiss, your fingers automatically running through his hair as you lick across his bottom lip, making him groan lowly. You smirk when you pull away, and he licks his lips, leaning down again to kiss against the side of your mouth, “You’re salty.”

You gasp out a laugh, and push him away half-heartedly as you go to stand up, “Alright, you just convinced me to get a move on.”

“Now, wait a minute.” he chuckles, catching you by the waist and pulling you back down “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” he rubs his nose against yours and presses another kiss on your lips, making you sigh out “Bruce..”

He hums and slides his tongue against yours, pulling back with a lewd pop, “I can’t help myself around you, you know that?” he rasps against your neck, licking across your skin, and you tremble, your legs crossing over his waist in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Good. I can’t either.” you confess softly, your fingers still running through his black locks.

He groans, pressing another slow kiss on your lips, hand untying your bikini from your neck and pulling the cups down to reveal your pretty tits.

He pulls back to gaze down at your chest, and you expect his eyes to darken, but Bruce looks at your chest and barks out a laugh.

You still, jaw dropping “Excuse you-”

“I’m sorry baby, there’s some seaweed on you. Here let me-” 

You look down, and sure enough, your tits are covered in sand, with small pieces of seaweed clinging to your skin. You bury your face in your hands and groan. “Oh my God. How does it get everywhere?” you hear Bruce laugh as you feel him slowly peel the pieces of seaweed off you before flicking them off to the side.

You peek between your fingers to look at him. He’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the sides in the way you love, but he’s still fully concentrated on the task at hand. Biting back a lovesick smile, you wiggle your hips a bit, “And my bottoms are still on. Wanna bet on what else I'm going to find down there once I get in the shower?”

“Probably my cum dripping down your thighs.” Bruce deadpans, and your eyes widen.

He had such a way with words.

“Don’t look at me like that. You said it like I’m going to let you go anywhere before fucking you at least once.”

“Bruce!” you laugh, “I’m all salty and gross. I have sand everywhere and apparently- I’m growing a fucking kelp forest on my tits so-” you dust your chest with your hands, palms feeling prickly from the sand on your skin, and it flies around you, falling on clean sheets. You blink up at Bruce, half expecting him to be mad about the mess, but he’s too entranced by the soft bounce of your tits to care.

He licks his lips and shrugs, “Already told you,” he bends down to press his mouth over your nipple, and you gasp, arching your back and digging your nails in his arms. “Salty’s good.” he mumbles, giving you a wink before diving on to your other nipple.

You gasp, pulling at his hair softly, but you still find enough snark in you to mess with him some more, “So is that your final answer?”

He looks up at you, quirking an eyebrow in question, nipple still in his mouth.

“The bet.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, yet his lips tug up, “It is. Actually, I'm already sure that I'll win it.”

You scoff, smiling down at him, “Oh, really. How sure?”

Bruce pulls away from your chest with a lewd pop, and his eyes trace over your features, noting the glazed look in your eyes, the way you bite your lip right then, just from him looking at you.

He tongues at his cheek and grins, “Pretty sure.”

With that, he resumes pressing kisses all over your chest, moving down to your belly, “You’re so fucking beautiful, even with sand all over you. I’ve been dying to fuck you ever since we stepped foot outside this hotel room this morning, you know that? With that flimsy little swimsuit, how could I not?”

“Fuck.” you whimper, your eyes rolling back when he thumbs at your clit over your bikini bottoms, “Is that why you were scowling at me at the beach? Did you want to fuck me then too, baby?”

He groans, nodding along, “So much.” he plants a slow kiss on your lips before pulling back and sitting back on his heels. His eyes were half-lidded, as he stared at the outline of your pussy over your bikini. He kept teasing your clit with his thumb, rubbing up and down, then suddenly pressing in on it just a liittle too hard before rubbing again. It had you circling your hips back against him.

“Fucking look at you.”

Bruce lays a soft slap on the side of your thigh, and you moan softly, “Jus’ put it in baby, c’mon. Need it so bad.”

Bruce hums, pulling his briefs down and rubbing his palm over the head of his cock, before sliding it down to the base to hold it. He shimmies just a tad closer to you and presses the head against your pussy over your bikini.

You whine, feeling him press against you, and he hisses, pushing the head deeper and seeing the material dip only slightly, refusing him entry.

“Don’t tease.” you mumble,

He chuckles lowly, pushing his cock just a tad higher, nudging at your clit, and you whine “Bruuce,”

“Could play with this pussy forever, baby.” he murmurs and bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing as he grabs your bottoms and pulls them to the side. He groans low in his throat when he sees that you're dripping for him. “God- damn. You’re-”

“Soaked? ‘S cause I was thinking about you too. Wanted to see if you’d snap, drag me further down the beach just to fuck me right there, where anyone could see.” 

Bruce’s eyes flash and his gaze snaps up to yours, jaw popping. He snarls, grabbing your jaw, his thumb and pointer finger digging into your cheeks as he leans closer, “Maybe I should just fill this smart fucking mouth instead of fucking you, huh? Bet you’d still get off on that.” he grits out, and you whimper, rolling your hips so that the head of his cock now bumps against your bare pussy.

“No, no, please. Need you in my pussy.” your voice is tantalizing, borderline sinful, and his eyes flutter, a shiver running down his back, “No one sees you like this, except for me.” he says against the side of your mouth, and you pant, nodding multiple times.

He snakes his hand down your body, rubbing two fingers over your pussy lips, before slowly pushing them inside your cunt. “Yess..” you hiss, throwing your head back, and Bruce leans down to press various kisses along the shape of your throat. The thumb that was rubbing against your cheek, now tugs at your bottom lip softly.

He pushes his fingers in your cunt two, three times, before curling them and biting softly at the skin just above your collarbone, “Say it.”

You whimper, “No one. No one, only you-!”

Bruce pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in you without warning. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as he fills you completely, his hand letting go of your jaw just to hold your throat, not tight though, never too tight.

He moans, feeling your warm, tight little pussy hug his cock immediately. His hips push forward even though he’s already filled you to the brim, and you whine, “Too much-”

“You can take it.” He huffs, pulling back just for a second to take his shirt off, before latching on you again, hands around your throat and tits, “You always do,” he mutters, before starting his unrelenting pace.

He wasn’t fast this time, no. He went slow, and hard, making sure you felt every fucking inch, every vein of his cock inside your pussy,  every time you felt like he’d bottomed out, he’d push just a liiittle more, his balls slapping against your ass, and you’d moan brokenly, your nails digging into his shoulders and making him hiss with every thrust.

Your hands clutch at the sheets on your sides when he leans back, using the string of your bikini top still around your middle as an anchor, holding it tightly in his fist, hips rolling against yours repeatedly. He stares at you hungrily, mouth open and panting as his eyes roam up and down your body.

He was so fucking good to you, but you needed more, you needed it harder, so you slap a hand against his ass, your nails digging in his skin as you pull him closer against you, pushing your hips back to meet his own.

His dark chuckle turns into a filthy moan, his head dropping back at the feel of your pussy tightening up around him, “Greedy fucking cunt. Look how she’s sucking me in honey, can barely pull out.” You lean up against your elbows, wanting to watch how your pussy takes him in, how it chases him when he pulls out.

You nod, entranced by the way your pussy stretches around his thick cock, “It’s cause you’re so good to me.” you mumble, “So fucking good, Bruce.”

You look up at him just in time to watch his Adam’s apple bob, and he looks down at you as well, half-lidded eyes dancing across your own. “Yeah?” he moans lowly, and it’s borderline pornographic.

And just when you thought you could cum just like this, just from seeing him so disheveled because of you, he drops his hand flat on your lower belly, thumb dropping on your clit to rub over it, and you tense immediately, hand dropping to claw at his forearm “Bruce-”

He snarls out your name, “Fucking cum for me.” his eyes drink in the way your hips jump, body twisting as you heave, and yet you still roll your hips against him, still push back when he pulls out.

Bruce picks up the pace, chasing after your orgasm like a man starved, and he leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your mouth. You thought you were kissing him back, but you were just panting and moaning against him while he soaked every sound up.

He pinches your clit suddenly, timing a hard thrust perfectly, and he stays there, pushing impossibly closer to you yet again. Your body goes taut immediately, and then the shaking begins. Your thighs tremble around his waist, your vision goes white, ears start to ring, and you can just about hear Bruce moaning and spitting out praises above you.

Pretty fucking girl. So fucking hot for me, shit. Cum for me, you can do it, I know you can. Thaaat’s it, that’s fucking it. Soaking my cock so well, baby. 

<3

“-etheart, you with me?”

Your eyelashes flutter, as you blink, letting out a satisfied whimper. You feel Bruce's hand pat your cheek softly, and you open your eyes to find him staring down at you, sweat dripping down his temple. He smiles, a dimple showing “Hey.”

You smile too, can't really help yourself, “Mm. You almost fucked me to death.” you mumble out, and he lets out a strained chuckle. “Wouldn't want that.”

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's still inside of you, still hard as a rock.

You mewl, instantly clumping down on him, and he grits his teeth, “Baby. You don't have to, you're tired-”

With a newfound strength, you prop yourself against the palm of your hands, and push Bruce back so that you're the one above him, straddling his thick thighs, his cock still snug inside you.

His hands immediately find purchase on your hips, and he squeezes your flesh in his hands appreciatively.

“I want it, I want you.” you mumble against his temple, after licking the sweat dripping down, and you can feel Bruce shiver under you, muttering a small “Fuck.”

Bruce doesn’t swear often, his patience keeping him from losing his cool, and seeing him lose it with you, gave you an extreme sense of satisfaction.

You wrap your hands around his neck, your tits getting squished against his pecs, when you tug him closer, and Bruce rubs his nose against yours, closing the gap between you.

You hum against his mouth, slowly starting to lift and lower your hips on his cock, and Bruce’s hands run up and down your back, later coming down to squeeze your ass to help guide you against him.

“You look so beautiful.” he pants against you, and one hand comes up to grab at your neck from behind, bracing you as he steals another kiss from your lips, this one deeper, more sensual. “As do you.” You whisper against spit-covered lips, your fingers threading through his hair. 

The rolling of your hips turns more aggressive, and after a while you’re practically bouncing on his cock, both you and Bruce moaning in harmony, both of you looking at where you’re joined, your cunt practically milking his cock, and the lewd squelching sound of you coming down on his cock spurs you on.

“Sweetheart go harder-”  Bruce trails off, his eyes rolling back when you reach down to cup his balls in your palm, squeezing softly.

“Like this? You ask breathlessly, your own eyes almost closing, but you force yourself to keep them open, to watch him fall apart beneath you, because of you.

“Yesss..” he grits through his teeth, pushing his hips upwards to meet your relentless pace eagerly. He grabs at your ass to lift you even higher, and now has to practically chase your pussy each time he thrusts up, but at least he successfully managed to shove his face against your tits. 

His groans and grunts, all while trailing open-mouthed kisses all over your chest.

The moment Bruce buries his head against your neck and lets out a whimper low in his throat, you know that he’s just about to go over the edge.

You can't keep control of your voice now either, moaning every time the head of his cock nudges deeper and deeper inside you “Cum for me, baby, please. Want it inside, dripping out of me like you promised.”

 “Will you do that for me, Bruce?”

He pants harshly, his breath hot against your collarbone as he grabs your hip and pushes you down, keeping your leg up with a hand on the back of your thigh, pushing it against your chest. He braces his right leg up and resumes the pace you’d set with bruising thrusts against your pretty cunt. “Anything. Fu- fuck. I’ll do anything you want.”

You almost sob, as this angle allows him to reach deeper inside you, and Bruce notices, “You’re gonna cum again.” he declares breathlessly, and you shake your head, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks “I can’t, I can’tttt-”

“You can.” he grits out, “Pussy’s pulsing around me like crazy, baby. You will.”

“Please.. Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Fuck- sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna cum for you, gonna give you everything.”

“Yes, yes fffucking cum inside me, need it so bad, I need it sooo badd.” you’re a blabbering mess, your voice cracking every time Bruce thrusts back inside you, and he’s no better. 

He’s groaning, his eyebrows pinched together and his hand clutching your waist like his life depends on it, and he only lets you go to rub tight circles on your swollen little clit, watching you writhe and twitch against him once more. 

You scream, throwing your head back over the edge of the bed, and Bruce follows right behind, thrusting two-three more times before pushing his hips taut against you and staying there, all while letting out the hottest moans you’ve ever heard in your life as he cums inside of you “Take it, take every single drop.” he mutters, his eyes dropping to watch your cunt take everything he’s got, his finger still drawing lazy circles on your clit, making you whine.

“S too much-”

There’s a white ring decorating the base of his cock when Bruce pulls out slowly, and it makes his jaw tick, makes him want to bend you over and give you more of him.

You mewl when you feel him slip out, and mumble something that Bruce can’t make out. 

When you open your eyes after what feels like hours, Bruce is looking at you with pure adoration in his face, a sheepish pussy-drunk grin to match his gaze, and you make a mental note right then and there to force him to go on vacations more often.

(also yeah, he won that 'bet')

2025 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Tim: Jason is sulking

Damian: when is he not?

Dick: I think I know why.

Tim: you going to tell us or are we expected to figure that out ourselves?

Dick: just watch. *looks to Jason who’s reading with a solemn look* JASON LOOK! (NAME) IS HOME!

Jason: *perks up so fast his book falls out of his lap* WHERE?! WHERE’S MY BABY?! WHERE ARE THEY?!

Dick: oops, forgot that they’re still out with Steph, Barbs and Cass for another hour, sorry.

Jason: *groans* someone kill me.

Tim: someone did and look where we are now.

Jason: again. Someone kill me again.

Damian: I would but (name) wouldn’t be too please.

Jason: *whines* my baby. Come home and save me from these losers.

Dick: ouch.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Another borrowed fluff prompt list to use

fluffy prompts

“You know we’re meant to be.”

“The thought of losing you scares me.”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

“You’re staring again.”

“Wow. you look stunning.”

“What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“I missed you so much.”

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

“Mine.”

“I’m going to marry you one day.”

“You cant banish me! This is my bed/bedroom too!”

“You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“Stop being so cute.”

“I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”

“It was a joke, baby. I swear.”

“Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?”

“Will you just hold me?”

“What do you have behind your back?”

“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”

“You look really good in my sweater.”

“No, i’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.”

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

“You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

“Lets just stay in bed.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“No, like..its just, i cant believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?”

“Are you planning to stay glued to my side the whole day?”

“Wow- you look…amazing.”

“I’m not jealous! Its just..you’re mine!”

“You snuck into my room, at 4am…to cuddle?”

“This is gonna sound cheesy but….I love when you’re half asleep and talking nonsense.”

“What? No! I wasn’t staring…I-I was looking at something behind you!”

“Stop being so cute.”

“Tell me again.”

“Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“Because i love you god damnit!”

“Wait a minute.. are you jealous?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Then do it.”

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!”

“I turned out liking you a lot more than i originally planned.”

“Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!”

“Why should we date?”

“Because we’re attracted to each other.”

“I’m attracted to pie, but i do not feel the need to date pie.”

“Where have you been all my life?”

“Hiding from you.”

“Somehow, i always seem to end up here. With you.”

“Soulmate shit, it’s hardcore as hell.”

“I love you.”

“Thats nice.”

“How do i look?”

“If i didn’t know you better, i’d say you were trying to flirt by giving me books.”

“No! It’s your turn!”

“Enjoying the view, beautiful?”

“Be careful, he’s so sweet you might get diabetes.”

“I cant sleep without you. I need my personal body heater and cuddles.”

“How am i supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”

“While i do enjoy the silent treatment, i wasn’t aware i had done anything to you.”

“What, you’ve never thought about us?”

“Why is your hand sweating so much?”

“So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”

“Im pretty sure your mom hates me.”

these are pretty loosely categorized as fluff but oh well. if you request from this list then please say “fluff; 34″ or something like that, just make sure you tell us what list its from so we dont get it confused with a different list.

admin Charlie💕

[callmeizukunotdeku]

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? That they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

[ahfrickenfrick]

everyone who knows dick personally knows he is very smart, analytical, and geeky

however the news outlets have been spouting off ‘richie wayne’ ever since dick was taken in as bruce’s ward, and tend to write him as the ‘dumb hot’ stereotype

one night talk show gets dick onto it, under the premise that the money from that show would be going to charity, they put him up against random college students about topics they are majoring in

everyone expects dick to flirt or joke his way through the questions, so when he starts buzzing in first and answering correctly, they eventually question him

and with a shrug he says, “grew up traveling around the world, was vice president to the mathletes club that took nationals in high school at 14, and was actually in training to take up either a head aspect or a tech aspect of wayne enterprises; had to do classes and work for that, my best friend and i played video games and coded our own, also social media is easy to keep up with with my siblings and such” he finishes with a dismissive wave and smile, quickly running through the subjects that he was quizzed on

it quickly goes viral, and dick left that studio with a lighter chest and a bright smile

[vynlrecord]

☆ thinking about vampire!dick grayson with a partner he’s just so eager to turn…

You can’t blame him - he thinks to himself, not really anyway. You’ve been oh so sweet about the whole thing, you didn’t even flee when you discovered his secret and any fear in your eyes, well that was quickly diminished with his soft words. He always did know just what to say to keep you in his arms, and you trusted him wholeheartedly.

He’d say he’s a respectable vampire, at least as much as he can be, but even the nicer ones test the boundaries, don’t they?

It started small, you’d get a paper cut and he’d kiss it better, grinning at you like a kid in a sweet shop, pretending to himself that even the smallest drop of your blood didn’t make him dizzy.

Then it escalated to the kisses you shared, makeout sessions that got him carried away, his fangs dragging over your bottom lip before nibbing just a little, practically groaning as he tasted the metallic warmth on his tongue.

“It was an accident", "I’m sorry", "I got carried away.” He’d always say.

And over time as he wormed his way further and further into your heart you just couldn’t say no, not when he pouted at you like the most innocent puppy you’ve ever seen, softly pleading for just a little sip. There were rules of course, only certain amounts of blood, not too often and definitely not when you were unwell.

He followed them gladly at first, but hunger always escalates and you always said yes because it felt so good to give in to him.

But his obsession shifted over time, less about the blood he used to so desperately crave from you and now...well now it was more about keeping you, forever.

“I’ve been thinking…” he murmurs one evening as you’re in his arms, on his lap. He has your legs spread, panties long since discarded as his slender fingers slide in and out of your dripping pussy. His other hand moves slowly along your thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles. Your pulse quickens beneath your skin and he feels it, every single thrum as his breath warms your neck.

He kisses the curve of your neck, so gently...so sweetly. You tilt your head, baring more of your skin to him, almost an instinctive offering and he smirks at it, fangs glinting in the moonlight as he let the points of his fangs ghost over the delicate place where your pulse flutters. “...Thinking about how sexy you’d be as a vampire”

You don’t pull away but you stiffen subtly. He notices it instantly, not surprised, he already knows how you feel about the topic.

“You said no,” he quickly adds, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his hand stills between your legs, your pussy aching at the loss. “I know, I know- I remember. You said you liked being human.”

God knows why, he thinks to himself .

He peppers kisses along your skin, trailing from your throat to your jaw, fangs lightly grazing, no movement to bite, just making you aware of their presence, like he knew it made you weaker to him.

"Buuut I still think you should say yes...Just- Just think about it, no more of those stupid human weaknesses. It'll be amazing, I promise you'll feel more alive than you've ever felt."

“Alive?” you manage to say a little breathlessly. “Isn’t that exactly the opposite of what I’d be?”

He can't help the little chuckle he lets out at that, "Ohh but you'd be stunning. I'm picturing it all now, untouchable and dangerous. God, the way you'd move, fangs covered in blood-" his voice gets breathier as he speaks, cock hardening as his fingers resume their movements, sliding through your folds, still slick with your arousal as his other hand moves to your clit.

You shudder at the feeling, biting your lip to stifle a moan as you try to think straight, but it's hard when he has you like this.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, almost a whisper “I can't...Won't” The emphasis on the word is not lost on you, it makes you a little lightheaded, “If you stay like this....well time’s gonna to take you from me. And... I can’t let that happen, you understand, right?”

You turn your head as you look back up at him, eyes meeting. There’s something in your eyes, a different look he hasn't seen before, there’s still fear, yes but hesitation too, curiosity? Maybe he could change your mind after all...

But you open your mouth and he knows you’re still going to say no, so he finds that sweet spot inside you, scissoring his fingers at the perfect angle as you melt against him, hand reaching for his one between your legs, the only noise spilling from you after that is a soft moan as you cling onto him.

“Such a good girl for me.” He purrs, “You can’t blame me for being greedy.”

He knows he’s being cruel, making you have this decision whilst at the mercy of his fingers, but he’s selfish when it comes to you and he’s unapologetic about it. His mouth returns to your neck, lips parting wider now. His fangs hover, closer than before, the temptation to do it growing more and more.

“Wouldn’t it be so nice baby?” He whispers softly as he holds you in his lap when you squirm, your pussy clenching around his fingers and he knows you’re close by the slight tremble of your legs.  “Just imagine it, we could be together forever, it would be perfect...I wouldn't have to worry about you so often, I mean you know how clumsy you are, it's just not fair to have me worry all the time when I could change that."

A shudder runs through you at his words, you're not stupid, you know what he's doing, making you question it all as he has you on the edge of ecstasy, fingers working in and out in a rhythm that has you feeling like you'll see stars soon. You're adamant you don't want it but the way he talks about it, like some ideal future, you want to hang onto his every word.

He can feel your orgasm approaching, his tongue running along your pulse point as he works harder to get you there, "Come oonnn, the words are on the tip of your tongue, just say yes...come on pretty girl, almost there."

And still, he doesn’t bite, he knows you'll give in and the taste will be that much more satisfying when he knows you've agreed to it. He's practically shaking too from anticipation, barely hanging onto his restraint.

Words fail you as your back arches, leaning into his touch as your orgasm crashes over you, a breathless cry of his name on the tip of your tongue as your legs shake and you gush all over his fingers. He doesn't let up, working you through it until you fall back against him, hands desperately reaching out for him to hold you because you get so needy after an orgasm.

He's happy to oblige, wrapping you up in his arms, so you're even closer to him. He brings his fingers to his lips as he tastes your cum, eyes fluttering at how good you always taste, before leaning in to kiss you, wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue.

After a sweet shared kiss and gentle caresses, comforting whispers as he brings you down from your high, he can't help but ask, "Well, do you have an answer for me baby?"

...

"Yes"

[starvales]

a/n : a small contribution to bruce wayne x gn!neglected!reader bcs i love these kinds of stories. the reader is bruce’s child (younger than dick, older than jason ((reader not specified if biological or adopted)) and is in their mid-twenties.

“After all these years, of neglect and ignorance and dismissals, why should I do anything for you? You don’t know anything about me!”

“I know everything about you. Your full name, your birthday, your qualifications—”

You cut him off.

“—If you know me so well, tell me something about me that isn’t projected on a screen in your man-cave.” You slam a specific folder onto the strategy table and snatch the contents inside.

“Tell me something about me that isn’t public knowledge—” Throwing the few and sparse pages at your father, you don’t falter at his stare while he does nothing to stop you.

You remembered praying for a day like this, begging every night against your bed. A day where your father spared you a glance, for even a second. And what did it take?

“For fuck’s sake, tell me something about me that isn’t on a piece of flimsy paper tucked away in an old manila folder gathering dust!”

Almost two decades of complete familial solitude and a favour that apparently only you could fulfil.

One of the pages fall in front of Bruce and he gently takes it into his hold. There’s a picture of you at the top left, barely hanging on by a cheap paper clip. The you in the portrait is staring mechanically at the camera, staring back soullessly at him.

You’re… fifteen in this photo, he thinks.

“Sure, you know my birthday. But what was the flavour of my cake for my first birthday that was celebrated in the manor? I wouldn’t know, because I didn’t have one, let alone anyone to celebrate with.”

You’re seven years old, sitting in front of a sloppy attempt at a cupcake in a cold kitchen, because you couldn’t reach the switches to turn on the heating or lights.

“You know my list of achievements and qualifications— But goddamnit Bruce, why did you not come to any of my award ceremonies or graduations?”

You’re sixteen, graduating high school early with high honours, thinking that maybe, just maybe, your family will show up. You end up walking back to the manor in the dark.

You’re twenty one, graduating gotham university with a doctorate in engineering. The only difference with this graduation, you drive yourself home.

“I was busy and you know that,” Bruce states. States instead of says, because you know he doesn’t know how to speak to you.

“No, I didn’t know that. Wanna know why?”

You round the table, clenching your fists and grinding your teeth, you got right in his face and spat venom.

“Because you didn’t have the decency to tell me yourself.”

[innorality]

silver kryptonite!clark kent

clark kent is hungry.

god, he's hungry.

ever since he got exposed to the silver kryptonite, he's been clutching at his stomach—holding himself back entirely—because he's so fucking hungry.

but that's not all—no, far from it.

he's seeing things.

he's seeing you.

he's seeing you spread out in front of him, pussy dripping with his cum. he's seeing you shaking with your back arched for him, shivering from the orgasms. he's seeing that pretty cunt, all sweet and wet for him, and he's just aching to devour it.

he's hallucinating entirely. he can hear your sweet moans and cries of his name, he can feel your touch on his steel skin, he can smell your arousal.

he wants you, and he wants you now.

and it didn't take long for him to have you, because you were already at the door when he came home. you looked at him with those adorable eyes, visibly concerned, and you asked him "what's wrong, honey?" in that terribly smooth voice that had him almost crushing his own jaw with how clenched it was from holding himself back.

and, oh, how clueless you were when you turned your back to go make him some food after he huffed out a pained " 'm hungry..", which gave him the perfect opportunity to grab you from behind, engulfing you in his embrace.

he was starving. he inhaled your scent and gulped down his saliva, leaning down and down until he reached your warm ear and he licked it, making you shiver quietly. "baby," he whispered, "can I eat you out?"

you were speechless for a moment. clark kent, your clark kent, would have never even thought of uttering such an explicit sentence... and yet there he was.

in your head, he had built up the courage to initiate this way. so, who were you to deny him?

and, god, were you glad you didn't because clark had never eaten you out like that before.

he was insatiable, relentless. his tongue explored every crevice, every fold, and seeked every drop of wetness you could grant him. he was desperate to quench his thirst, swallowing your juices obnoxiously loud as if trying to prove to himself that he was finally eating.

but he needed more, way more.

the tip of his long tongue found your clit, pressing flat against it and rubbing before flicking it playfully. you gripped the edge of the counter he had laid you down on, moaning out a loud "c-clark! please... fuck!", your entire body squirming, trying to make sense of the pleasure.

you sobbed when two of his thick fingers pressed into you, pumping quickly. "y-y'know... I saw things.." he began, sucking on your clit between sentences. "i-i saw... hmm, I saw you..." he shivered when your hand slithered in his hair, gripping it.

"s-saw me?-" you cut yourself off with a cry when his fingers pressed against your sugar-coated spot. "saw you with my... my cum d-dripping out here," he twisted his fingers before scissoring you open. "saw you p-pregnant– fuuhhh..." he barely managed to get the profanity out before the hunger took over him once again, his tongue snaking into your hole.

his hands flew to your hips, gripping tightly and pulling you towards him—into him—so he could get a better taste of you.

he licked up your walls, moaning at how wet and sticky your insides were. the vibrations made you arch your back even more, tightening your grip on his hair to grind your clit on his nose.

"g-gonna cum! m'gonna cum, c-clark— fuck!" you warned, and you felt him grin against you, groaning out a muffled "give it to me", and you obeyed. your body obeyed.

you came with a silent gasp, eyes widening as you felt your muscles tighten, bracing themselves for the intensity of the orgasm. but it's only when you looked down at clark and saw him disheveled and flushed between your legs that you relaxed, succumbing to the wave of pleasure that washed through you.

your cunt clenched around his tongue, coating him with your cum as you rode the tip of his nose, grinding and grinding while his eyes rolled back, finally getting what he was craving.

his head was spinning, your moans echoing in his head and disorienting him. but clark didn't care, he didn't need any help—he was right where he wanted to be.

he parted from you when the overstimulation became too much for you to bear and you pushed him away, the both of you gasping for air. "fuck... fuck," you gulped, letting your head fall to the side and your eyes flutter shut.

"baby..." his hands ran up your torso, massaging your breasts slowly. you hummed in response, "y-yeah..?"

he squeezed your breasts before leaning over to kiss his way back down to your pelvis, and you immediately knew.

"I'm still hungry."

[maccreadysmungo]

Batboys as husbands

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up, as always)

NSFW will be below a cut !!

None gender specific terms used (they, partner, beloved)

Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson, bachelor of Blüdhaven, had finally settled down, and to a civvie (civilian) no less. To say the family were shocked was an understatement.

Dick Grayson is an incredible cook, thanks to Alfred no doubt. When you met he was living off pot noodles and frozen pizzas, now he was in your kitchen, humming away to your favourite song as he cooked you a 3 course meal for date night.

Dick Grayson loves to see you in his clothing, especially outside of the home. He loves people knowing you’re his - ring or no.

Dick Grayson loves taking you to family events, Galas, dinners, etc. Any excuse to show off his girl to his family and friends, even better if its an event with paparazzi, the cameras loved you almost as much as he did - you couldn’t go anywhere together without hearing a shutter click - and he loved it. Loved seeing your faces posted everywhere the next day.

Dick Grayson loves going on holidays with you, he loves taking you to hot countries, seeing you in your warm clothes, and just having peaceful time with you, away from everyone.

NSFW BELOW

Dick is a huge fan of morning sex, when you’re all groggy after having just woke up, he loves to lazily make love to his partner all slow and sensually, really savouring the moment, bonus points if you’re on holiday.

Jason Todd

You doubt anybody expected Jason Todd to one day get married, but here you were, exchanging your vows tearfully - handwritten might I add. Jason definitely put a lot of effort into his, spending weeks agonising about what he should say - even enlisting the help of Tim because, and I quote, “I don’t know enough words in the entire universe to be able to explain how deeply in love with them I am.”

Jason Todd is a sap. He’s a romantic, thpugh he’d scowl and deny it if anyone ever asked. Everyone knew he was though of course, well, with you at least.

His romantic tendencies show in the little ways, the way he always has to be touching you somehow, be it handholding, an arm around your waist, or over your shoulder. If you’re shorter than him then Jason Todd definitely loves to stand behind you with his chin atop your head, and his arms wrapped around you protectively.

Another natural chef, though he was self taught unlike Dick. Like many things with Jason, the ability to cook was just another natural talent he harboured, a fact that you both love and hate, does he really have to be so perfect at everything?! It was frustrating, really.

He likes the obvious claims, having you wear his clothes, or wear his red, even the odd hickey that’s a little harder to contain if he had a particularly jealous moment, but his favourite way to claim you as his was a simple silver chain around your neck with a red ‘JT’ hanging from the end.

NSFW BELOW

As earlier stated, he’s extremely touchy, which of course extends to other aspects of your life. Any opportunity to get his hands on you and he took it - quickies in closets? Check. Oral in the bathroom at a fancy gala? Check check. He will never miss an opportunity for sexual activity with the love of his life.

Tim Drake

Shockingly to most, Tim Drake is more reserved with his pda. He isn’t as insecure as Jason, or as… extra, as Dick, instead enjoying the smaller displays of affection, a small ‘TD’ stitched into your sleeves and collars, your pictures as eachothers lockscreens, pictures on keychains. The more… touchy displays of affection are saved for the privacy of your bedroom.

He loves spoiling you. If you glance at something for too long whilst out he notices and will immediately buy it, leaving no room for argument as he does.

He has a locked notes app note in his phone with a list of all your hobbies and interests, all your favourite things - from food to clothing style.

Tim Drake brings you everywhere with him, even patrol where he can, because whilst he may not be overly PDA-centric, he loves to have you by his side in every aspect of his life, which means he is training you and designing a vigilante suit for you so that you can come everywhere with him, so everyone knows he is spoken for (as though the ring you stitching into his costume doesn’t relay that fact as is).

He loves showing you off at Galas most of all though, helping to pick out an outfit so you guys can colour coordinate, and being at your side the entire night - he is an excellently dancer.

Unfortunately, he may be an excellent dancer but Tim Drake is not an excellent cook. He once set fire to the microwave whilst making noodles (“I didn’t know you couldn’t make pot noodles in the microwave!”) so he prefers to pay for lavish meals instead at high end restaurants, though he’ll never complain when you cook for him.

NSFW BELOW

He’s definitely one for spoiling when it comes to the bedroom too, he loves to experiment so he can find out your favourite things in the bedroom too, and once he knows them he’s definitely a giver - preferring to give head rather than receive, definitely the sort of man to get off to you getting off, so to speak.

Damian Wayne (aged up)

Damian Wayne is possessive and jealous, the sort of man to have to suppress murderous tendencies when he sees someone being too touchy, or gazing at you too long.

His solution to this is simple, you are covered in reminders that you are his. A necklace with his initials on. A bracelet and ring to match, both with the same dark green, “DW” on it. His intials are engraved into every item of clothing you own, and he’s definitely the sort to get matching tattoos on your upper thigh with one another’s initials on.

Damian Wayne is just like his Father, whether he likes that or not, which means he loves to spoil you, you never have to pay for a thing when he’s around - and he took personal offense whenever you tried when he began courting you. He pays for every meal, all your clothes, and if you do go out without him and buy something new - he’s finding out the price so he can transfer you the money - all whilst grumbling because “why didn’t you just use my card?”

Definitely a man of pet names (especially in Arabic), ‘Beloved’, ‘Habibti’ (my love), ‘Hayati’ (my life), ‘Albi’ (my heart) and ‘Ya Rohi’ (my soul) are his most commonly used ones, both in public and in private.

NSFW BELOW

As stated earlier, Damian is a gentleman just like his father, which means that he waited until marriage to go any further than kissing you. It was difficult, for both of you, but when your wedding day came it was qorth the wait when he whisked you off on a luxurious holiday, and made love to you everyday. Like Tim, he is a giver and loves to experiment, but unlike his brother he is less open to being the submissive in the bedroom, only opting to do so after a particularly stressful day, because Damian needs control in every aspect of his life. He’s not averse to dolling out punishment if you push him to that - flirt with someone for too long, tease him too much, but he doesn’t enjoy quickies as much as- he prefers to take his time with you, spoil you in every sense of the words whilst whispering praises in both English and Arabic about how good you are, how much he loves you.

[juicykvnture]

MANEATER

Wally West x fem!reader

Wally West x his (completely and 100% normal) vampire!gf ☆ headcannons/drable

tags: fem!reader in mind but it’s not THAT specific, mentions of blood (not graphic), fluff

a/n: yk what hell yeah

Wally West who didn't even notice that he was down bad horrendous for a vampire at first.

He didn't feel your aura of impending doom - or how you only ever left your apartment at night. He just deemed your crimson eyes a unique shade of brown, too distracted by how pretty they looked under your lashes.

Wally West who only put two and two together when he caught you curled up on the couch with a blood bag in hand, your fangs piercing through the plastic like it's a capri-sun.

He was shocked at first, rightly so! Until he thought back to your less than normal tendencies; the weird talismans you wear, the way he often wakes up with you just standing there at the foot of his bed - staring, the way your sharp nails dig into his arms, the way you bite his lip a little too hard when you kiss him.

He stares at you nothing less than bamboozled, his mouth agape as his head tilts to the side before blinking rapidly,

"Huh?? I thought you were just freaky?"

Wally West who gets a little bit jealous when you have the audacity to get your fix from a blood bag. Like, how could you when you have all of him right there?

He's like sulking from the doorway, staring at you,

"Oh, I see. Am I just a common whore, then? Just another concubine of yours?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You glance up from the tv, your tongue darting out for a moment to catch a stray trickle of blood down your chin.

"Nothing! You have fun with your sub-par blood bag, I'm going out for a run!"

Wally West who can't even sit through any sort of vampire movie without him turning to you every two seconds with questions like -

"Wait, do they really do that?" - "Is that lore accurate?" - "You wouldn't do that to me, yeah? Promise?" (He's not entirely sure if he'd be all that offended, though)

When you don't answer that last one he plays it off with a nervous laugh, scratching the side of his neck (as if you can't hear his heart absolutely slamming)

Wally West who just insists on helping you do your makeup, even though you're fully capable of doing it yourself for years.

He claims it's cause you can't see your own reflection in most mirrors, insisting he shows you his handiwork on his phone, (old mirrors have silver, modern phones don’t) sneaking a photo every single time until he's at the point he's got a whole folder of them saved.

It's just an excuse to have you closer, so he can stare at your face for a couple minutes longer in the mornings.

Wally West who randomly pokes at your fangs whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s surprised when you retaliate by giving his fingers a bite. It’s like he’s almost dissatisfied with the fact he doesn't have cool teeth for whatever reason.

Your glare snaps him out of it sometimes, resulting in a stupid grin stretching across his face,

"What? You wouldn't tear up the light of your life!"

Wally West who is now determined to become an expert on bloodsuckers like you (bless him), asking you the most cliche shit he can think of, especially when he's all dizzy after you drain him a little.

"Do you sleep in a coffin?" He pipes up, staring up at the ceiling he's asking you about the weather or what you want for breakfast.

"No, Wally. I don't."

"You sure? Cause I can get one."

Similarly,

"You know, I have like zero problem hanging the bed upside down on the ceiling if it makes you sleep better,"

"Wally, it's fine. I can sleep like a normal person." You stare at him, wiping his blood from the corner of your lips.

"You sure? I have a drill and some rope, somewhere."

Wally West who's gotten used to you sleepily gnawing at his neck or wrist sometimes - to the point that he's actually kinda sad when you fall asleep, not pulling your face away from him unless he absolutely has to get up and do something. It's weird, but he just likes being close to you, even as a walking blood bag.

Wally West who swears on his life that he's 100% fine and not lightheaded when you forget yourself and go a little too far, shaking his head weakly when you start to ramble apologetically, already halfway to the kitchen for bandaids and iron supplements.

"No, no.. come back. It's fine." He insists.

You're not convinced, staring at his head slumped against your shoulder, carefully tilting his head up to make sure his eyes are still open.

"M'sorry."

His only response is to try shake his head, his lips curling into a dazed smile despite the fact his head is spinning.

"No, it's totallyyy fine.. you could like stab me and l'd be like it's okay. cause you're my hot girlfriend."

You're just starting at him now, he's definitely fucked up cause of blood loss.

You're shifting around on the bed, tucking a stack of pillows under his head with a soft frown, his fingers loosely tugging at your wrist so you don't pull away.

You know that any sort of lecture from you would land on deaf ears.

He truly insists that he can walk (well, run) off any and all kind of injury or affliction. He doesn't really seem to be able to comprehend the fact that losing a gallon of blood isn't the same as any run of the mill kind of scratch.

"M'fine, m'the fuckin' flash, know? My hearts like wayyyy better than a regular guys."

"Is it?" You sigh, gently stroking your fingers through his messy read hair.

"Duh? it's yours."

a/n: see! I promise I’m capable of joy and whimsy sometimes..

[softvalentines]

pairing: clark kent x reader cw: smut, implied afab reader, detailed cock description, size kink (girth, curve, heavy leaking), overstimulation (both reader + clark), possessiveness, breeding implications (clark cumming inside reader), messy cum play / excessive cum, mild cock worship, oral fixation (mentions), soft dom clark tendencies (whining, needy, desperate), praise kink (clark praising reader, reader overwhelmed by him), slight somnophilic undertones if interpreted (from exhaustion overstimulation context), implied emotional dependency (clark clinging, not wanting to stop)

you're thinking about clark’s dick again.

because how could you not? it’s almost a problem — the kind of thing that stays in the back of your mind during the day, lurking like a half-forgotten dream, like the heat off sun-baked asphalt or the feel of his calloused palm on your throat.

its slightly paler than the rest of him, with the faintest gradient of color that darkens where it matters most. the kind of cock you can tell stays heavy even soft, obscenely thick — thick enough that when you first dropped to your knees and wrapped your fingers around it, you couldn’t get your hand to fully meet around the base. one of those things you both half-laughed at the first time, though clark’s laugh was tight and frayed at the edges, like it physically hurt him to joke about something that made his stomach twist up so tight.

and it’s heavy, too — warm and weighty against your palm, a pretty flush already gathering at the tip before you even do anything, fat droplets of pre-beading and threatening to spill over at the barest touch. he leaks like it’s a biological malfunction, an embarrassing, syrupy need that never seems to stop, stringing from his tip to your wrist while he hisses through his teeth, murmuring soft, ruined apologies against the shell of your ear like he can’t help it.

there’s a curve to it, one you don’t always catch with your eyes — it isn’t obvious, isn’t obscene. but you feel it. god, you feel it. when he’s got you split open underneath him, when you’re writhing against the mattress and clenching around him so hard it makes him stutter his hips, you feel that gentle bend pressing into the most sensitive part of you, scraping maddeningly slow along your walls until yourwhole body’s tensing like a live wire. mind-numbing is a generous word for it. it’s more like being torn in half and reassembled around him.

and the thing about clark is, he overstimulates himself as bad as he does you. you’ll be beneath him, pinned under the impossible press of his weight, those big hands splayed possessively on your hips or tangled tight in your hair, and he’s whining through every thrust. panting ragged against your skin, muttering broken things like 'so good, so tight, can’t—fuck, can’t stop', because even when his cock’s visibly twitching, so sensitive it’s driving him stupid, he won’t pull out. won’t slow down. he wants to fill you, wants to stuff you so full of his thick, heavy release that it’s leaking out around him while he keeps going. and it’s so much. an actual, shameful amount.

by the time he cums, it’s never one neat pulse — it’s messy, viscous, endless. you swear you can feel it flooding you deeper, warmer than it should be, spilling out before he’s even finished. and clark’s never quiet about it, either. no, he’s desperate. one hand cradling the back of your head while he whimpers against your throat, hips jerking in tiny, needy thrusts as if he can’t bear the emptiness the second you’re not milking every drop from him.

and omfg, his happy trail. keeps it trimmed, neat, because even though he could let it go wild, he’s always a little shy about looking too unkempt, the boy from smallville still somewhere under the god-tier frame. but it’s there, that soft dusting of dark hair starting just under his navel, trailing down to where it thickens at the base of his cock, and you swear every time you catch sight of it, you get a little lightheaded. and yet here he is, flushed and wrecked, reduced to a whining mess in your hands, drenching your insides and clinging to you like you’re the only tether he’s got left on this earth.

and every time, you promise yourself it’ll just be a memory. that you won’t think about it next time you’re out together, next time he wraps an arm around your waist too casually or calls you ‘darlin’ in that low, honeyed voice. and yet here you are, thinking about clark’s dick. again.

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BRUCE was sprawled out on his bed, black sheets barely covering his naked body, his bulky thigh nudging its way out under them when it got too hot. He kept his hand behind his head, half-lidded eyes never leaving your form as he watched you carefully.

“Again.”

You stood near his side of the bed, one leg propped up on it, naked except for one of Bruce's white button up shirts, the upper four buttons undone, courtesy of yours truly (Bruce Wayne). Your hand follows the skin of your leg from your calves, to your knees up, up to your thigh where your fingers hook under your simple sheer tights. Slowly, you begin to pull them down your leg, and Bruce's eyes follow the movement religiously. His lips part when your skin reappears under the delicate barrier, the act almost hypnotizing. 

Bruce inhales sharply when your whole leg gets exposed to him, and his eyes immediately trail up to your face, smiling lazily, a faint dimple showing “Again,” 

You roll your eyes playfully, biting back a smile, and yet you do as he says, somehow also getting worked up over this. You stare unabashedly at his chest, the way it rises and falls with each breath. Your eyes travel lower, down to his happy trail, and Bruce, ever so observant, notices this, and readjusts his hips slightly, making the sheet shift the slightest bit. When your eyes snap up to his, he raises his eyebrow in challenge. You huff, fingers beginning to work again, pulling the tights up your leg this time, slowly though, never rushing this. 

But you still wanted to fuck with him a little. So when you pull the tights just past your knee you stop completely and watch in amusement as Bruce’s gaze snaps up to yours immediately, eyes narrowing playfully, “That was the best part, and you ruined it,” he complains in a gruff voice, and you grin, “I know.”

He clicks his tongue as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, skimming his fingers over your skin, barely touching you as he went to resume your work, “I'll just have to do it for you then,” his fingers pull the tights up your pretty thigh, and he bites his lip when his work is done, hands now properly touching your skin over your tights, running them up and down your thigh appreciatively. 

“You’re insatiable.” you say as you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back the slightest bit, and Bruce groans lowly from the tug, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. He then looks up at you innocently, humming as if he was agreeing with you. 

Suddenly his hand wraps around your waist, and he tugs you closer, and you gasp when you fall on his lap,  tights long forgotten as he studies your face, grabbing your ass in both hands and lifting you up so you could prop your knees on either side of him, “I can't help it.” he confessed, before claiming your lips with his.

Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair as you kiss him back. Somehow the sheet was still bunched around his waist, covering his hard cock, and yet you waste no time and roll your hips against him. Bruce moans against your lips, his hold on you tightening.  His hands knead the skin of your ass, as he pulls away and starts pressing kisses down your jaw. You reward him with another roll of your hips, your pussy meeting his cock through the fabric, and he raises his hips the slightest bit, nudging your clit in the process. He hisses when you whimper, his hands now trailing up your bare back under your (his) shirt. “Sweet girl..”

Bruce’s kisses turn more filthy, now pressing open-mouthed kisses on your lips, panting against your mouth for just a second as he pulls away, and your tongue darts out to lick a line across his lips. His eyes turn dark, “Let me fuck you again.” he whispers against your lips, hand coming up to hold your face, thumb and pointer finger digging into each of your cheeks softly.

“I think you can do better than that.” You bite your lip when he rolls his eyes quickly, a smile tugging his lips up, “I can feel you dripping through the sheets, and you want me to beg?” he huffs out a chuckle, and you gasp in faux offense. You turn to look away from him teasingly but he tilts your head back to him with a tut.

You shake off his hold on your face, and in turn take both his cheeks in your palms, eyes dancing across his. Rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, you lean in to whisper against his ear, “Want to fuck me in them?”

Satisfaction pools inside your belly when you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows harshly, and he groans, dropping his head to bite down at your shoulder teasingly. “Yes. Please.”

You grin, moving to stand up, not before Bruce swats your ass playfully. You shoot him an unconvincing glare, and he just shrugs, leaning back with his palms supporting his weight, eyes never trailing up and down your form. “Don't rip them this time.”

Bruce smiles. “I won't.”

Later, when you find yourself panting against the floor-to-ceiling window of his room, the glass foggy as you press your cheek against it to look at Bruce over your shoulder, whimpering when he pulls out of you, his hand pulling the cheek of your ass taut to watch his cum drip out of your pussy, your eyes catch sight of your ripped tights, your pussy and most of your ass free from the material in a perfect circle. You swallow down your whimper when he shoves two fingers inside your puffy cunt, pushing his cum back inside you, “You lied,” you somehow manage to utter.

Bruce's eyes snap up to yours, his eyebrows furrowing momentarily, sweat dripping down his temple, but then he notices. Sees where you're looking. His eyes glint devilishly, and he gives you the most shit eating grin you've ever seen, “Guess I did.”

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.