v44lentine

[v44lentine]

PANTY-STEALING, PART TWO — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: part one. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ what it says on the tin, panty stealing ノ voyeurism ノ inappropriate thoughts about reader ノ sexual content.

It’s been several days since CLARK KENT’s stunt in his bedroom, narrowly escaping your discovery of him finding and pocketing your used panties. He’s been beating himself up over it ever since, his guilt distracting him from devising a sound plan to replace them naturally. You’d already asked if he’d seen any of your “missing clothes” avoiding mentioning your undergarments directly, but he could tell what you were hinting at. Coolly he had shrugged knowing your dirty panties sat in the top drawer of the nightstand in the loft of his barn.

He nearly punched a hole through his forehead with the impact his fist when he realized he should’ve just washed it with the rest of his laundry, playing it off like he simply didn’t know it was in his hamper. It’s past the point of no return, if he did it now after you questioning him it would look suspicious! His thoughts run away with him.

Lying awake for yet another night about it, he swallows hard staring up at the ceiling. Cramped on this little couch, he’d taken it as a courtesy and you’ve been sleeping in his room. You’ve been sleeping in his… bed. Memories of that little silk robe you wore invade his otherwise purer mind: the glimpse of your ass under the impossibly short hem, how perky your tits were cold and fresh from the shower, how you must’ve been wearing nothing under it—

Clark digs the heels of his hand into his eyes to symbolically avert them, growling softly in frustration. The crest of his watch digs into the tendon on the top of his hand, and he throws his arms down at his sides, a little squished because of his width compared to the sofa.

He wonders if you’re wearing anything in his bed. You’re a type hard to pin down, somewhat unpredictable in what you say versus what you do. If you’re in his bed, you might say you’re in pajamas, but you’re hiding the fact you’re naked in a guy’s bed you aren’t dating. He’s seen the room since you’ve taken it over—you didn’t even change the sheets. It smells like him, he’s sure, and he hopes it’s a good thing. His fingers twiddle with the stringy crochet of the blanket over his stomach at the thought that you might like the way he smells. You might’ve kept the bedding because you think he smells nice. You might rub your nose into his pillow and take a deep breath while your bare body shimmies against his sheets. That perfect silhouette imprinting into his mattress is enough to twitch his dick. It’s the kind filling out like it’s looking for something: standing in the direction of the nearest hole.

His palms fly to cup it comfortingly, trying his best to sooth its ache while he squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to ponder anything else—anything that’s not completely objectifying to a house guest. The confines of his grip only anger it, spiting him by pridefully hardening to a painful degree that makes him grit his teeth. The kind of feeling that drives him to trudge out to his barn in the dead of night and open that nightstand drawer just for a peek—just for a touch—just for a—

The next day he avoids you like the plague. If you loftily call his name, “Cla-a-r-rk!” singing it like a song, he has to ignore the melody to make himself scarce. The last thing he needs is to be caught in a close space with you and give himself away. As soon as he even hears you come around, his entire body erupts into some kind of bizarre full-figure blush, heart leaping out of his chest to spring into action.

He can’t look you in the eyes when the night before his cum joined yours, staining the delicate part of your panties—since dried. Having wrapped his big hand around it, and jacked off until his balls didn’t hurt anymore, he couldn’t even look himself in the eye. There’s no way he can return them to you, but he can’t seem to get rid of them either. The fragile fabric crumpled up and back in that drawer.

[v44lentine]

PART TWO RIGHT NOW👹🫵

Roommates

clark kent x reader

mdni 18+

You were Clark’s best friend, it was only natural that after high school the two of you got an apartment together. It had been fun so far hanging out all the time, that was, but due to Clark's powers there had been some setbacks. One being that you masturbated quite frequently. Like nearly every night.

Clark did his best to not hear. Or to simply turn his ears off but it wasn’t that simple. Not when you produced the softest little gasps and moans. Ones he wouldn’t be able to hear if he was someone else. 

One particular week he didn’t hear you at all, but the last time he had heard you, you failed to make yourself finish, a few times before that as well. Clark knew better than to intrude on the matter. It was personal. None of his business at all. Also you might find it creepy that he’s been listening in on you every night. 

When he finally hears the familiar soft pants coming from your connected wall, his ears perk up, he no longer can tell himself that he just so happened to hear you, instead of purposefully listening, when he focuses only on your sounds. It takes everything in him not to look through the wall at you. That would be too far. 

He palms himself as you go on, just to help the ache. It goes on for longer than usual and he hears the moment you get frustrated and he knows you’re about to give up. You have always been a quitter. 

He knows you’ve given up when he heats a quiet disappointed whimper. Then he hears you sniffle and he wonders if you’re really going to cry about it. He’s not willing to find out though. Less than a moment later he’s at your door. 

He knocks and his heart is pounding. You shuffle around for a bit before you open your door. You’re pouty when you do, Clark’s heart melts a little at the sight. “You okay?” 

You nod looking confused. “Yeah, why do you ask?” Clark’s cheeks heat up, when he realizes his mistake. 

“Thin walls.” Your mortification is clear in a matter of seconds. When you go to sputter an apology Clark shakes his head at you. 

“I wasn’t even thinking- omg of course you could hear me.” You’re panicking and Clark knows he has mere seconds before this becomes a huge deal. 

“Hey, it’s natural. Not a big deal. You just sounded upset.” He calms you quickly, even if you’re still blushing furiously. 

You’re stammering as you respond. “I just was trying to…” You shrug, trying to fake nonchalance. “But I couldn’t, I can’t ever for some reason,” You complain and even though you’re still embarrassed, you’re all pouty again. 

Clark rocks on his heels for a moment. He towers over you per usual. “You want help?” He asks watching your eyes grow wider than saucers. 

[v44lentine]

When i see yandere this is what i want okay-

wine and dine | dick grayson headcanons

⤵ tw: not an uppercase in sight, unhealthy relationship, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, yandere, manipulation/semi-gaslighting, implied purposeful harm ⤵ note: i just think he is overbearing and overstimulating on purpose, but he makes up for it by buying you literally anything ever ⤵ inspo song: under my skin by jukebox the ghost

- dick grayson is not shy when it comes to buying your happiness, a trait he picked up from bruce growing up. even if you’re not comfortable with this, gift giving is deep in his blood.

- it doesn’t matter where you came from before him because everything feels like humble beginnings in comparison to the endless fortune dick has a share in. there is enough money on that black card of his to solve problems you hadn’t even thought of yet, and it was intimidating the power he had just with a call of his name.

- he takes you into places where the price is never discussed, at least not to you. and if you hesitate due to how much you think it costs, he’ll find a way to talk you into getting it anyways. clothes with brands you only thought you’d see photos of, flights to the next place to vacation he randomly planned without telling you, restaurant reservations at such popular locations not even the queen could get a table as soon as he did for you.

- “but wouldn’t this look nice for a date? that way we’ll look good together. people will know we belong together.”

- that’s his excuse often, that the two of you would look better together if you matched. If everyone saw the two of you and immediately knew the two of you were a set. that if you were somehow lost, they would just have to take one look at you to know you were his. some of this is because he wants you to be pampered the way he thinks you deserve…

- some of it is also because there is an image he has to keep as the first son of the wayne legacy. the torch his father passed down to him, playboy billionaire with a desire for a good time, has to be held high even if it comes at the cost of your happiness.

- some of it also because you’re like the perfect doll for him. so easy to dress up and play with, keeping him entertained even when you’re far too tired to do much of anything. he wants to pick you up and take you everywhere, even places you don’t belong, just as an excuse to show off his favorite pastime.

- he does care though, at least he says he does when you’re crying about how you have no privacy with all the cameras in your face all of the time. how people will go to extremes just to capture video and photos of you at your lowest, in those moments you thought you were actually alone.

- he tells you how well you look, how he’ll shield you from all the press tonight so the two of you can just enjoy each other's company without the worry of the outside world. dick will never admit he gave some of those photos and videos on purpose just so you’d come to him seeking a moment of peace. that you would vent to him. that you would see him as the only one who can bring you back to that feeling of normal, even if he is the cause of all the stress.

- you’re his charity case, something to make him feel like a hero when he isn’t playing nightwing. someone to see him as he knows he is, the perfect man. the protagonist's love interest that gives purpose to the story.

- he could never explain where he disappears off to, that he’s the hero in the night who guards the city you’re locked within the border of. excused off as necessary trips… maybe he likes the way you seem so desperate to know if he’s humoring other lovers during this time. maybe he wants you to get as jealous as he does when he sees anyone even try to sway you from him.

- he likes to rush your relationship, asking you to move in less than a month into the relationship and suggests marriage shortly after. he wants you to depend on him for everything. money, safety, privacy, care, everything.

- the home he bought, decorated just for you to house you when he wasn’t playing with you, had everything he could think of to remind you just how much of yours was his. Nothing of your old life made its way in, whether it be a single piece of clothing, a photo of your friends, or even your pet from before. everything in that house was his, including you.

- if he could be the air in your lungs and the blood in your veins he would be. he doesn’t realize how much he wants to live inside your skin, to puppet your brain and convince you he is all there is in the world.

- maybe that’s why it hurts so much when he gets back from a long mission, excused as a family trip that you couldn’t go to because he was concerned how the family would react to you being there, and you’re not there.

- that none of the gifts he has bought you while he was gone, the ones he had sent over special just for you so you’d still be able to be dressed up by him even with all the distance, were touched let alone opened.

- when he calls for you through the house? nothing. phonecalls? voicemail. He knew you had run off when he noticed your wardrobe just a bit less full and that pretty wedding band he got for you left on your nightstand.

- barbara knew he was desperate when dick came knocking on her door, begging for some sort of help finding his lost doll. pleading that you were out there, probably so scared and alone without him. you have nowhere to go without him, that you had nothing else but him.

- when the two of them found that you, where you had run off to while he was gone, dick called in a few more favors to make sure he would never lose you again. maybe if he gave you a reason to fear everything but him, you’d be truly trapped in the dollhouse he built for you. 

thank you everyone for the support !! please do reblog & share if you enjoyed so i know what people are interested in. if you happen to have any requests, feel free to drop those in the ask box :D

[v44lentine]

YES

݁.﹒ being bruce wayne’s (platonic) sugar baby

your relationship with BRUCE WAYNE is quite simple, really. you are his “sugar baby,” but not in the traditional sense. there’s no sex-for-payment arrangement—just the occasional gift or dinner date, and a lot of time spent in his manor. you’ve learned how to read him, how to make yourself available without pushing too much, how to slip into his world in a way that never feels like an imposition. and he appreciates that.

this afternoon is no different: you’re straddling his lap, legs folded on either side of him as he works. his attention is fixed on the papers in front of him, but he doesn’t seem to mind your presence. the small crease in his brow softens slightly each time your fingers comb through his hair. after a moment, bruce sets down his pen.

“you know,” he says, his tone dry but not unkind, “you’re making it awfully hard to focus.” your hand freezes, and heat rushes to your cheeks instantly. “oh,” you mumble, starting to pull back. “i wasn’t—sorry, i didn’t mean to—” before you can finish, bruce gently catches your wrist, guiding your hand back toward him. his fingers slide easily between yours, interlocking with ease.

“relax,” he murmurs, bringing your hand closer to his lips. the kiss he presses to the valley between your middle and ring knuckles is tender and warm—effortless, like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. it feels painfully natural, even though it’s the first time. “just don’t expect me to get anything done if you keep this up.”

[v44lentine]

The Batboys with a S/O Who Dyes Their Hair to Match Their Signature Color

A/N - Requested by @jakiicomics! I hope that you enjoy! I took it in a little bit of a different direction but I hope that you like it!

TIM DRAKE-

- he was surprised to see that you added his signature red color to your hair

- “Wow! You look amazing, y/n! It matches my suit!”

- he couldn’t stop playing with your hair

- “I want to add a streak into my hair too so that we can match!”

- “Would you help me with that, y/n?”

- You end up dyeing Tim’s hair with a red streak to match yours and he’s in love with his new hair

JASON TODD-

- you end up dyeing your hair a rich, deep maroon color to match his vigilante outfit

- Jason is stunned by the way you look with the new hair color

- he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you

- gets very clingy, pulling you towards him any chance he gets and peppering your neck and lips with kisses

- this is such a turn on for him you have no idea that this would do this to him

- he is obsessed with you and your hair and can’t seem to get enough

DICK GRAYSON-

- you dye your hair Dick’s signature blue black color and it makes your hair pop

- your whole demeanor changes with this added color and Dick has definitely noticed

- gives you a big cheeky smile when he sees your hair color for the first time

- “You look amazing, y/n! My color looks good on you.” He says with a wink.

- he suggests some Nightwing inspired outfits for you to wear to go with your new hair

- gives you one of his blue hoodies that compliments your hair perfectly

[v44lentine]

some doodles on paper :3

i hc jason knows how to play the piano cuz when he was brought into wayne manor he saw there was a grand piano n really wanted to learn how to play so bruce/alfred got someone to teach him (or taught him themselves) and then he stopped playing after the pit but once in a while when he swings by the manor he still plays

tim prolly plays the violin cuz it was expected of him as a child (knows how to play the piano too but prefers the violin)

also in arkham knight when you die n jason says "look at me while you die batman, LOOK AT ME!" look at me by twice immediately follows after in my head so

[v44lentine]

That dog in me is trying to come back

I yearn to write about the most out of pocket shit, giving dick grayson that sloppy top with no hair tie while he weaves his thick callused fingers between your hair, holding back bits of your hair while rubbing circles into your scalp as you take in his length, bobbing up and down

or letting jason todd use you like a sex toy, parting your bottoms and spreading your legs while you mindlessly chat with your friends; his length filling you deliciously as you pretend as thought nothing was amiss, holding back moans and trying not to cum before he does (bcs you know. Actually you dont. And neither do i)

OR EVEN, YA KNOW EVEN. I RAISE YOU:

both at once, because why make you choose when both is an option. Dick's length and girth entering you slowly, your cunt searing in pain and pleasure from simply him entering but you cant cry or move forward because, of course, Jason's in your mouth, his hands forcing your head to stay still as tears pour from your face while he fucks your throat hard(double treatment? Whiplash🫵)

BUT I CANT I DONT KNOW WHY I CANT FULLY FLEDGE TO AN ACTUAL ONESHOT I WRITE ONE THOUSAND PLUS WORDS AND ALL THAT HAPPENS IS DICK FEELS UP MY TITS WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME :( how do smut writers do this??

[v44lentine]

I yearn to write about the most out of pocket shit, giving dick grayson that sloppy top with no hair tie while he weaves his thick callused fingers between your hair, holding back bits of your hair while rubbing circles into your scalp as you take in his length, bobbing up and down

or letting jason todd use you like a sex toy, parting your bottoms and spreading your legs while you mindlessly chat with your friends; his length filling you deliciously as you pretend as thought nothing was amiss, holding back moans and trying not to cum before he does (bcs you know. Actually you dont. And neither do i)

OR EVEN, YA KNOW EVEN. I RAISE YOU:

both at once, because why make you choose when both is an option. Dick's length and girth entering you slowly, your cunt searing in pain and pleasure from simply him entering but you cant cry or move forward because, of course, Jason's in your mouth, his hands forcing your head to stay still as tears pour from your face while he fucks your throat hard(double treatment? Whiplash🫵)

BUT I CANT I DONT KNOW WHY I CANT FULLY FLEDGE TO AN ACTUAL ONESHOT I WRITE ONE THOUSAND PLUS WORDS AND ALL THAT HAPPENS IS DICK FEELS UP MY TITS WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME :( how do smut writers do this??

[v44lentine]

𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, oral (p receiving), messy, black!fem intended BUT it can be anybody, pudgy!reader, thick!reader, chubby!reader, put that pussy to sleep, pet names: love, baby, I did edit it, but in case of any errors, ignore it :)

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | this was originally intended for Red hood but it could honestly be anybody you have in mind. I hope everyone is doing well. Stay safe, remember to drink lots of water and eat. Like, comment and reblog. Enjoy lovebugs!! 🦠🩷

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

"Mm, you taste so good, love." Laid up underneath him in your white babydoll. Dressed in lingerie, and wrapped in lace and mesh like a present on Christmas day─ it revealed the most sacred parts of your voluptuous physique. Exposed to his body heat, he warms you up like a fireplace as his hands adventure towards your hips. Bracing yourself to the contact of his mouth, it sends shivers down your spine when you feel his tongue lick long stripes up your center. You whined lowly, clinging to the stuffed animal that was on your bed. You bury your face into the plush teddy to muffle your moans. For the sake of those who are sleep, you didn't want to disturb anyone's slumber with your raunchy sounds─ your boyfriend didn't really give a damn but he proceeded to eat you out sloppily anyways.

Careless that he was making a mess, your juices dripped on the side of his face─ enjoying the very meal he missed out on for almost a week. He was relentless, hungry and quenching of thirst, for a taste of you. Popping, smacking sounds filled the room as he latched his mouth to your lower lips. The vibrations sending a tickle to your clit. His hands gripped around the fat of your ass to press you further down. You squealed in surprise. Shooting up in your kneeling position, you looked down at your boyfriend slithering his tongue between your folds. You nearly clenched your legs closed at the weird sensation of his tongue entering your leaking hole and instead of running away from him, you practically sat yourself on his (your) heavenly throne.

"Mmph, baby." He grunts in approval, eyes nearly going cross eyed at how your chunky thighs veiled his head. Loving how you were suffocating him with the very thing he would kill for. It was warm and tight, sticky, lewd and soft. The wetness of your arousal soaked around your inner thighs as he devoured your sweet center. You gripped at the sheets, clenched your eyes shut as you started to rock back and forth. Your breathing grows heavy as you begin to ride his mouth at a moderate speed. Heart eyes rolling and head lulling back, your lips part at the wave of fulfillment overwhelming you.

"Oh, baby, m'gon cum." You moaned, voice quivering a little. He hums in acknowledgement, tapping your thigh for you to quicken your pace. He starts to make out with your cunt, sucking and flicking at your clit till your movement was still. There was a silence that had fallen over the room. Your chest rises and falls once your upper body has met the mattress with a tired huff. Moaning softly, his tongue licks up the mess he had made, your juices dripping along his chin, he sucks you off the rest of the way. Giving your pussy one last kiss, he moves from under you. Turning to grab the towel that was on the floor, he glances over you about to wipe your thighs when he hears soft grunting sounds escape from your lips. He chuckles, realizing he put your ass into a deep slumber.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[v44lentine]

AWHHHHHHHH

chat i HAVE to bag this guy uppp he’s so my type 😣

[v44lentine]

IM FIGHTING FOR THIS RELATIONSHIP TO BLOSSOM 🔥 youre gonna bag the mans EASY

Hey girl hope youre well its been a hot minute since ive seen ya arnd hope that means everything with yo mans has been going smoothly 😉

Ya did tell me to update you on my nightwing nail set and im proud to announce ive just finished one hand (for now)

hey nat 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 !! tbh i wasn’t feeling like being active on here & actually it’s looking promising 😭 i’ve got him texting me every day (i want him sb please) AND NAT OMG YOU’RE SO TALENTED ??? the design is sososo cool & the results ?? breathtaking

[v44lentine]

I decided two weeks ago to draft up nightwing and red hood nails.

I started three days ago

THREE DAYS and ive finished one hand omg i need to do like two sets bro im cooked (please tell me they look great )

[v44lentine]

I shamelessly creamed. No regrets. In love. Will read again

BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB

stuck in an elevator with the three elite billionaire sons of Bruce Wayne.

tags: (18+) fingering, squirting, pet names (doll face, baby, sweetheart), dry humping, dirty talk, ripping of clothes, confided spaces, brothers who share, oral (f!receiving), making out, hickies, nipple play, kinda exhibitionism (???), foursome, mention of breeding kinks, praise

notes: i imagine reader as black but i don’t think i used any physical description [repost!]

It was a tight fit. It had you rubbing your thighs together to calm the heat and aching throbbing between your legs. Crossing your ankles together you held your purse tighter and inhaled, trying to think of anything but your three bosses — but their presence was too powerful and overwhelming in this tight and suffocating elevator. Dirty and primal lust filled the air and you swallowed hard trying to ignore it.

They were all so tall, so lean and their muscular bodies took over all of the small space that you were confined in. Awkwardly rolling your hips, trying to ease your aches without being noticed, your body trembled a bit. Your stomach folded in as the mixed aroma of their colognes entered your nose — a musky smell of pine caused you to bite your lip.

The elevator was quiet besides the occasional rumbling but you couldn’t help but feel queasy, feeling as if they all were staring you down.

Quiet yet quick shuffling was heard before you noticed a tanned hand pressing yet another button. You tried to pay no mind to it until all at once the lights flickered and a loud bang started, you gasped aloud and backed back into a hard chest.

“S-sorry,” You stammered, pushing yourself off of whoever was behind you. You tried not to memorize the feeling that your hands felt of the muscular and broadness of his chest, your face felt hot and with the sudden change of temperature it was only worst.

“It’s fine, doll face.” Came the response of the one and only Jason Todd, his voice made you shiver with delight and the ache in your core returned again. Your blazer and tights making you feel stuffy and hot, as if you were wearing too many clothes. “You okay?”

You didn’t trust anymore of your voice but you nodded. Heat pooled between your legs listening to his deep and throaty voice and the nickname he bestowed upon you. Self fanning yourself a bit you looked off to the side, seeing Dick to your side, who winked at you.

“You’re looking pretty hot there,” Dick brought himself closer to your ear and blew a bit near your neck. He chuckled when you jumped back. “I don’t bite baby, you know, unless you like that kind of thing…” His piercing dark blue eyes scanned your face before eyeing your lips.

“No need to be scared.” Tim finally spoke up. You felt a shift in the air before he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in to his chest.

That’s when it clicked for you. Jason pushed the button to halt the elevator. As if reading your expression, their laughter shook the elevator. “Finally figured it out, yeah?” Jason’s eyes were equally piercing as Dick’s but it was the smirk and the white streak of hair that was making you fold.

“She’s been here, what..? About 3 months?” Dick quirked an eyebrow to him, who you felt nod against your shoulder. “Still haven’t noticed us… our stares… our conversations that we always try to rope you in… you just gave us nothing—”

“So we had to do something to get your attention.” Jason finished, bringing his calloused yet soft hands to caress your face, rubbing at your cheeks before removing your glasses from your face.

Grinding his hips against yours, Tim kissed the sides of your neck. Your breathing quickened with every tainting kiss before his mouth opened and then you felt pure wetness dripping down your neck. His thick long tongue licking up a pattern as he grinding himself more against you, you could feel how hard he was, how thick he was and just how big.

“I… I don’t understand…” You muttered, mainly to yourself. Trying to control yourself but your hips were already rutting against Tim’s, quiet moans leaving both of your lips.

“Shh…” Dick pressed a finger to your lips. “It’s nothing for you to understand. Just know… we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“And we plan to make you understand every inch of it, baby.” Tim panted in your ear, you could feel his hands trailing up from your waist leaving a hot trail until he landed on your breast. “Jason, mind giving me a hand?”

It was almost too quick how Jason undid the buttons to your shirt, leaving both the shirt and blazer on, he was tempted to snap a picture. Looking at the position you were in made him want you even more. “So fucking beautiful.” He blew his breath on your nipples, watching them both get hard and erect.

He was never too big on sharing. But with his brothers? It was something different.

You yelped, feeling more heat hit your now bare legs as Dick stretched and ripped the flimsy fabric thighs you were wearing. He turned to look at Jason, “You owe me.”

With hungry eyes, Jason looked between your legs and sucked his teeth. “Fuck.” He groaned. Black lacy panties.

Was it wrong for the brothers to bet what type of panties you wore? Probably. But damn did it pay off.

Bumping his nose against your clothed clit at the same time that Tim tweaked your nipples you tried to move away from them, it was too much. “W-Wait!”

Jason moved closer to you and touched your face again, “Shh. It’s okay.” He cooed before he leaned towards, keeping his eyes on yours.

Everything happened all at once. Your eyes rolled back once you felt his tongue slither inside of your mouth with no warning, his brothers feeling you up it was almost too much for you to focus on — the rhythm of Tim’s hips, Jason’s tongue swirling inside of your mouth and Dick playing with your drooling covered pussy.

Jason applied pressure to your tongue before licking the insides of your mouth, both sides of the cheeks before he sucked on your tongue. Even with your eyes closed, you knew he was still staring at you. Each moan they pulled out of you, another one added pressure.

“Oh fuck,” Feeling Dick pulling your panties to the side and hearing him moan. Your slick wetness sticking to the black Lacy panties you were wearing. “Such a pretty mess down here.” He licked his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, fuck, you like when I say talk to you down here baby?” As if the dripping all over wasn’t enough of an answer, he smiled before dipping his head down.

You held your breath, expecting him to get straight to the point. But instead, he kissed your thighs. Trailing deep kisses up and down, getting closer and closer to your clit every time. Your breathing uneven, Jason moved from your mouth to your breast, his teeth tugging on your dark nipples, still meeting your eyes.

Dick’s muffled moan drew your eyes to him. You watched as his wet tongue tugged at your folds before slurping up the juices that spilled out of you. Your legs were trembling and if it wasn’t for Tim, you would’ve fell over.

“You like what he’s doing to you, sweetheart?” Tim whispered. “Imagine what it’ll be like when I’m cumming inside of that pussy, you hear me? Matter of fact. When we’re all cumming inside of you, gonna birth a heir to this company, aren’t you?” He sucked on your ear lobe and your pussy tightened up when Dick tried to put his tongue inside of you.

“Don’t scare her off, Tim. He’s just playing around baby.” Jason told you, kissing the valley between your aching breast.

Parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, Dick drove his tongue inside. “Oooh, I…” You we’re babbling. Wetness dripping on his face and even on his expensive shirt as he licked and slurped, nibbling on your puffy clit.

Tim didn’t like how left out he was, the brothers could see it on his face. With another long suck on your clit enough to make you even weaker on your knees, Dick rose up.

“W-wait I didn’t get to—” He covered your mouth with his, holding the sides of your face and massaging the breast that Jason was neglecting.

A sudden intrusion inside of your pussy made you moan aloud. You were so focused that you didn’t feel Tim parting you open for his fingers. “So fucking tight, right here. Such a small pussy. Can’t wait to break her in.” He purred, moving two of his fingers faster inside of you. His hips digging into yours, Jason now sucking on your throat. The gentle fiction from Tim’s slacks driving you even more crazy since his fingers are working too. Using his thumb, he pressed on your clit and dragged his thumb up and down adding pressure each time.

You were struggling to keep your balance. Your voice was hoarse as they had their way with you. Your entire body shaking while you whimpered against them, tightening up on Tim’s fingers and he groaned, stretching them inside of you.

With clenched teeth Tim told you, “Breathe. Fuck, sweetheart. It’s just me, just open up a bit more.” It was feeling good being stretched so good while two other boys felt you up with their hands and their mouths.

You were getting so dizzy. Your orgasm attempting to push through. You didn’t know how you didn’t come yet.

Licking up the pulse on both sides of your neck, Dick and Jason shared a look. You didn’t know what it meant until they both dropped to their knees and eyed your swollen clit.

“Oh you weren’t lying. I knew she’d be pretty. But this is truly a pussy, so smooth and bare.” Jason smirked, pulling your lips open, watching his brother’s fingers dipping inside. Then he moved forward and kissed your aching clit.

Your knees buckled and you threw your head back while Tim continued to hold you up and fuck you with his fingers. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Jason did a deep groan, putting your clit in his mouth and mouthing his head back before letting your clit bounce back before doing it again.

His tongue was putting in work, licking up and down your clit. Feeling another set of wetness you thrusted your hips forward, begging for more, not realized Dick had joined in on the assault of your pussy.

The strokes of their tongues plus Tim’s fingers moving and stretching you so deep, you rode out every feeling you possessed and when Tim pushed in deeper inside of your gummy walls that held him so tight, he pressed and circled your insides until he felt you clench harder than before.

It was the hardest you ever came, your limbs snapping, body shaking hard, babbling words and your pussy squirting out a clear liquid of slick on both of the boys below up, who happily drank it up. You felt drunk as you slid down to the ground.

With wild looks in their eyes, the brothers straightened themselves out, looking over your appearance. Dick pulled your blazer over you and Jason continued to rip the rest of your tights. Tim, got the elevator back on track.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still haven’t faded, your body still twitching and shaking. You could hear them talking to each other, “She’s completely fucked out. She won’t be able to go back to work like this.” Dick said.

“Can’t take her home or Bruce will have our heads for fucking with his best assistant.” Tim replied while Jason just laughed.

“Well,” Jason picked you up as if you weighted nothing. “I can always take her back to my comfy loft.”

Tim and Dick looked at him as if he was crazy. “So you could get started without us? Ha, very funny.” Tim snorted.

“Let’s just find her address on the company—” The elevator dinged and stopped, the doors opening to the person none of you wanted to see.

With wide eyes Bruce Wayne frowned at the sight. Putting a hand over his forehead he did a deep sigh, “Do I even want to know?”

The boys all shook their heads and Tim quickly pressed the button to the company garage. “Let’s just get something to eat first.”

“Works for me.” You yawned, looking dreamily at the three boys.

[v44lentine]

All The Way

Attn: I haven’t written a lot of Clark but after this conversation, I can’t stop thinking about him sooo, enjoy the smut lol.

Word Count: 1,896

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: Clark’s never gone all the way with a woman in fear of hurting them, but with you… he just can’t resist.

Warnings: 18+, oral (female and male receiving), fingering, squirting, smidge of angst, p in v sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, male masturbation, cum shot, Clark’s pretty cock

Clark Kent was many things. A journalist, Superman, a big sweetheart, and your boyfriend. Aside from the fact he was Superman, he was hiding one more thing from you… he had never gone all the way with a woman before. With his strength he was absolutely terrified he’d lose control and end up hurting the one he cared for. Sex hadn’t come up in the four months the two of you had been together, but tonight he had a feeling it was going to.

As soon as you opened your door, he could feel the heat radiating off of you, smell your arousal. “Hey baby,” you smile sweetly before giving him a kiss. The two of you have a nice date, tinged with nervous anticipation Clark wrangled just beneath the surface. He couldn’t lie to himself, he wanted you badly, more than he’d ever wanted anyone, but still… he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you.

The sound of your blood rushing straight between your legs while the two of you stood outside of your apartment door had Clark breathing heavily. “Do you… want to come in?,” you ask, looking up through your lashes. Clark nods before you turn to open the door. As soon as the two of you are inside, he’s on you. He lifts you off your feet with such ease, it startles you. Before you can let out a gasp, his lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs while ghosting his lips over your throat. “Cl— Clark,” you whine as he rucks up your dress and grabs two handfuls of your ass. You tangle your fingers into his soft curls and rut your core into his erection, making him groan. He turns quickly, making his way to your bedroom. He has you fully naked before you can hardly get his shirt off. When you go for his belt buckle, he lets you take it off before putting you up on the bed.

“I wanna see you,” you pout. He obliges, taking his pants and underwear off. It’s safe to say he has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Its creamy and smooth, with the pinkest tip you’ve ever seen. Precum was absolutely drooling from his slit, and when you leaned forward to take a tase, Clark stopped you. “Ladies first,” he says before leaning down and kissing you. You mean to argue but you’re unable to because before you can blink, he’s gone from your lips down to your pussy.

“Mmm,” he groans against you. Your nipples pebble and your back arches as he brings you to your peak faster than you’d ever reached it before. “Oh God,” you choke out as it hits you. You squirm, trying to move away from the stimulation but the grip he has on you is iron clad. He grabs you beneath the thigh and pushes your leg back, opening your cunt up to him. He pushes his tongue into you, tasting your arousal. You look down and see his eye roll back just from the taste of you, and it turns you on all the more.

He slides back up to your clit before letting two fingers slide into you. “Claaark,” you groan as he strokes you inside and out. Tears roll down your face when you gush. He laps it all up while continuing to work you over. “Clark please. Wa— want to taste you. Want you to fuck me with… your pretty cock,” you stammer. He lets out a pained sound and continues. “Please… please,” you whimper. He makes you cum again before pulling back and wiping his face.

You sit up as quickly as you can and wrap your hand around his shaft. You pump him a few times, admiring his leaking tip before sucking it into your mouth. “Mmm,” you him in satisfaction. You suck him for a while, before pulling back with a pop. “Please Clark. I want you,” you beg. “Sweetheart,” he says as he cups your face, eyebrows pinched tight together. “You don’t want me?,” you say forlornly. “I do. I want you so bad. Please don’t think I don’t,” he pleads.

You sit up on your knees and kiss him. “Then what are you waiting for? I’m all yours,” you say, stroking him. “I’m— I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” he says. “You’d never hurt me baby. Why would you think that?,” you ask. He pulls you into his lap and sits on the edge of the bed with you. “I have a secret. I— I’ve never told anyone this before. Usually in the bedroom this is where things stop because I— I’m….,” he struggles. “You’re what? It’s okay Clark. You can tell me anything. I promise it’ll stay between us. You know I love you right?,” you ask. “I know, and I love you too Sweetheart, that’s why I’m going to tell you that I’m Superman,” he says quickly.

“Y— you’re..,” you contemplate as you look at him. “I’m so stupid,” you laugh. He looks at you confusedly. “You look just like him, and I didn’t even realize,” you say, laughing hysterically now. If he didn’t have his arms around you, you likely would fall to the floor. “If you don’t want to see me anymore I’d understand,” he then says, cutting off all your laughter. “Clark… I still want to see you, baby. I still love you. I still want you to make love to me,” you tell him

“What if I—,” he begins before you kiss him softly. “You won’t hurt me,” you assure him. “I could,” he says. “You wouldn’t though. Do you want to stop? We don’t have to—,” you say, trying to leave his lap. “No!,” he says firmly, holding you in place. “I want this… I want you Sweetheart. Please.. W— would you sit on my cock?,” he asks. “You’re sure,” you question. “Yes. Please. I’m so hard it hurts. Just— you do it so I won’t—,” he says before he breaks off into a moan.

You slide your slick pussy up and down the length of him, before he stills your hips. “Inside. Please. I want to feel you,” he says breathlessly. You line up with him before slowly easing onto him. “You’re so big,” you whimper once you’re fully seated. You sit for a moment, Clark’s cock throbbing inside of you. You’re just before moving when his resolve breaks. He flips you over and starts thrusting into you. His fingertips dig into your mattress as his jaw goes slack.

He just barely keeps his wits about him as you moan nonsensically beneath him. “Tha’s it. Right theeere,” you squeal as squirt harder than you ever have in your entire life. Just the sight makes Clark cum as well. He huffs loudly as his hips keeps thrusting. “St— still hard?,” you question. He nods before pulling you up against him. “You feel so fucking good. I’m not hurting you?,” he asks. “You can go harder if you want,” you say. You gasp as he starts thrusting harder.

“Oh fuuuck,” you scream as you cum again. “That’s it baby,” he encourages. “Y— you like that?,” you stammer. “Love making you feel good. Can I try something?,” he asks. “Anything you want,” you tell him, setting him off again. His cock thrums inside of you as he empties another heavy load. You smile to yourself, loving the effect you’re having on him. Once he’s done he puts you on all fours before pulling you to the edge of the bed.

He groans deeply while palming at your ass. He starts thrusting and gasps when you bend further, arching your back. He pushes harder while reaching around you and rubbing your clit. Before it’s over he’s bent over top of you, grabbing a handful of your breast as well. When you cum this time, your body gives out, falling into the bed. Clark follows, straddling your hips, while he chases his own release. He cums again with a grunt before pulling out of you.

He turns you and pushes your legs back to look at the mess he’s made. He smiles hazily making you giggle. “Proud of yourself?,” you ask, biting your lip. “You look so pretty like this,” he says as he starts jerking his hard cock. “I can handle more,” you tell him. “Don’t lie to me Sweetheart. Super senses. I can tell you’re getting tired,” he says. “I know but… I want it,” you tell him. “Want what… my pretty cock?,” he teases. “What? It is. Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you say, making him moan.

He pulls at himself harder before placing his tip against your clit and shooting his thick cum against it. “Clark,” you whine. You watch as he takes the tip and rubs it against your puffy clit. “Tell me… what’s pretty about it,” he says. Your thighs shake under his ministrations. “Skin’s so smooth… pretty pink tip,” you say before he pushes gently into you. “Just one more for my girl, yeah?,” he says as he thrusts gently. “Harder,” you breathe. “Just like this baby,” he says, continuing.

He’s not even got his entire cock inside, just enough so that the head is pushing into your gspot deliciously. “Clark,” you say, reaching out for him. He laces his fingers into yours while continuing his gentle but steady pace. You begin sucking air in harshly as your orgasm approaches and Clark can tell it’s about to be the strongest of them all. “That’s it Sweetheart. Let go,” he says as your body begins to tremble.

You cum hard, pushing him out. He lets go of one of your hands, taking his cock and slapping it against your clit, drawing out your pleasure. He strokes himself a few times, reaching just to the edge of his orgasm before he slides into your sopping pussy and fills you up with another load. You jerk against him, oversensitive at this point. When he pulls out he decides you’ve truly had enough.

He lays down beside you and pulls you close, softly caressing you until you’ve calmed down. “You’re still hard,” you murmur. “I’ll calm down in a minute,” he says. “How long can you go?,” you ask out of curiosity. “I was particularly horny after that date we had at the beach,” he says sheepishly. “Yeah?,” you question. “I jerked myself off nearly two days straight to the thought of pulling your swimsuit to the side and taking you out on the beach,” he admits, blush dusting his cheeks and the end of his nose.

“Clark,” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful, so sexy,” he says before kissing you. “So are you. God, I still can’t believe you’re Superman,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you trusted me enough to let me have you like this,” he says, eyes full of love. “I trust you with my life Clark, with all of me. I have for a long time now,” you say, gently caressing his face. “I love you,” he says reverently. “I love you too,” you reply. He kisses you once more before getting up and bringing you with him. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then I’ll change the sheets,” he says. “You’ll stay with me?,” you question. “No where in the world I’d rather be,” he replies sweetly.

[v44lentine]

gang im warning my moots i will be writing smut in the near future (this is a targeted warning) let me cook with this drunk sex fic im thinking of (it wont be cooking itll be a little burnt)

[v44lentine]

🙋‍♀️ i believe in sugar daddy! bruce wayne dish out to your hearts desires

*taps mic* dare i say sugar daddy!bruce wayne…

[v44lentine]

#' BEING BRUCE WAYNE’S ❝SUGAR BABY❞ AND FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM

warnings — slowburn. brief mentions of sex synopsis — being a broke college student that caught the attention of none other than bruce wayne a/n — this is the fluffy slowburn sfw version… the 18+ one is still in the works

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

it started when you were a broke college student in your early twenties, juggling classes, part-time jobs, and an unrelenting mountain of bills. bruce wayne, freshly thirty, was already a household name—gotham’s elusive billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist.

you first crossed paths at a charity gala, where you were working as a server, weaving through the crowd with a tray of champagne flutes. you’d only seen bruce wayne in tabloids before, so when you caught him leaning against a marble pillar, watching you, you simply froze.

“you seem a little… distracted,” his eyes flicked to the tray you balanced expertly. “nervous, or just tired of all this nonsense?” you gave him a polite, slightly weary smile. “neither. just trying to get through the night without spilling on anyone important. still got a paper to finish.”

his lips twitched in amusement, but he didn’t press further. at the end of the night, though, you found an obscene tip tucked beneath his empty glass—crisp hundred bills folded neatly, more money than you’d made all week.

weeks later, he appeared again—this time at a hole-in-the-wall café near campus where you worked part-time. it wasn’t his scene; he stuck out like a sore thumb in his tailored black coat, looking utterly out of place among the students.

he didn’t say much that first visit, just ordered black coffee and left another ridiculous tip. but he came back. again and again. sometimes he’d stay long enough for a brief conversation, other times he’d sit quietly in a corner, newspaper in hand. it wasn’t just the tips that stuck to you—it was the way he listened. bruce never made you feel small or dismissed your struggles, like so many others did.

when he first offered to help you financially, he did it with tact that left you room to preserve your pride. “you’re working too hard,” he said one evening. “let me take some of the weight off—just until things settle. consider it an investment in your future.” there was a sincerity in his voice that made it sound like a practical solution rather than a handout.

accepting his help wasn’t easy. you’d been so accustomed to clawing your way through life that the idea of someone else shouldering your burden felt unnatural. after days of hesitation, you finally agreed—but only on the condition that you’d pay him back one day. bruce had only nodded, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk, like he knew you never would.

he never made you feel indebted, though. if anything, he treated it like helping you was a privilege.

when your ancient car finally gave up, bruce didn’t even wait for you to ask for help. within the week, a sleek, brand-new model was delivered to your apartment, the keys tucked into an envelope with a simple note: you need something reliable. you tried to thank him, but he just waved it off. “just focus on getting where you need to go.”

your decrepit laptop, with its constant crashing and refusal to load anything on time, was next. one day, you came home to find a pristine, state-of-the-art model sitting on your desk, already set up and ready to use. you didn’t even have to ask.

bruce never demanded anything in return. the closest he came to asking for favours were the occasional lunches or dinners where he’d pick your brain about your studies, your ambitions, your dreams. he always seemed genuinely interested, never letting the conversation veer into anything too personal unless you led it there.

you realized over time that it wasn’t just the money, the gifts, or even the way he treated you like an equal—it was the steady presence he provided. bruce wasn’t there to fix your life or control it; he just wanted to make it a little easier. and somehow, that made all the difference.

when you stayed up late working on papers, bruce would sometimes settle on the couch nearby, a novel in his hands. he never intruded, but his quiet presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone. on particularly rough nights, he’d bring you a cup of tea without saying a word, setting it gently beside you before returning to his book.

on your birthday, he surprised you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers—something you’d mentioned in passing months ago—and a beautifully wrapped box containing a classic hermès birkin. the card attached to it read simply, “something to carry all those books in.”

his gifts were always thoughtful, never ostentatious in a way that would make you feel uneasy. designer coats, shoes, and bags—each impeccably tailored to your taste, yet discreet. the labels were always tucked away, hidden in folds and linings. they were things you could wear without being worried you’d get mugged. nothing about them screamed, “i have a sugar daddy.”

bruce never tried to “buy” your affection. you didn’t owe him anything—not in the transactional way most would expect. he just wanted to see you comfortable, to help you in ways that went beyond financial support. and, over time, you realized you cared for him too—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

he had an uncanny ability to remember the smallest details about you. the way you took your coffee. the name of the professor whose lectures you dreaded. how the sound of rain on a window always calmed you. those little moments of attentiveness.

at first, bruce kept you at arm’s length emotionally, cautious about pulling you deeper into his complicated world. but as the months went by, as your late-night talks stretched into early mornings, it became clear that bruce didn’t see this as a favour or an obligation. he cared for you in a way that went far beyond surface-level kindness.

when you went through a bad breakup, he didn’t try to fix it or console you with empty platitudes. instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest.

it wasn’t long before the line between benefactor and friend blurred entirely. he was no longer just footing your bills or buying you thoughtful gifts—bruce got greedy. he didn’t just want to take care of you financially; he wanted all of you.

one night, you were venting about your professors, frustration pouring out in a messy jumble of words. bruce listened intently, brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, giving you his undivided attention.

“you’re too nice to me,” you blurted, the words slipping out like a spew of vomit. before doubt could creep in, you leaned forward and kissed him. it was a kiss that changed everything—as you half expected him to gently push you away, his hand came up to cradle your face, deepening it.

the kiss led to one thing, then another, and before you knew it, you were tangled together in his sheets, lost in his kisses, his touch, his quiet attention to your every reaction. bruce wasn’t just passionate; he was thorough in a way that unraveled you completely—it was hands down the best sex you’d ever had.

when you woke up the next morning, still tangled in his arms, a wave of uncertainty hit you. maybe it was nerves or overthinking, but you couldn’t stop wondering if you’d crossed a line you shouldn’t have. sensing your unease, bruce kissed your shoulder, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “i hope you know this changes nothing… we’re fine.”

and just like that, you became his official “sugar baby.” not that the dynamic between you two changed drastically—it simply gave bruce an excuse to really spoil you.

he started sending you to your favourite spa on weekends, claiming you deserved a break from all the stress. when you protested that it was too much, he just shrugged. “self-care is important,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

your closet, which had been a collection of fast fashion and thrifted pieces, was slowly replaced with the row, max mara, burberry, and dior.

your jewelry collection grew as well. delicate van cleef & arpels bracelets, tiffany & co. pendants, and diamond-stud earrings from cartier found their way into your life. he gifted you a dainty rolex, understated yet stunning, with a cheeky note: “don’t be late to class.”

despite all of this, bruce was careful to ensure it never looked like you were “living large.” you stayed in your same modest apartment, though it was clear his influence was woven into the details: a state-of-the-art security system, upgrades to your furniture and appliances that made life a little easier.

dinners became a regular occurrence, whether it was a reservation at gotham’s most exclusive restaurant or an extravagant meal in his penthouse.

when you graduated, bruce was there, blending into the crowd in a simple black coat, inconspicuous among the sea of families and friends. you didn’t spot him at first—he wasn’t the type to draw attention when he didn’t want to—but when your eyes finally landed on his, he gave you the smallest of nods. after the ceremony, he approached you quietly, slipping a small velvet box into your hand. you opened it to reveal a key.

“what’s this for?” you asked, already overwhelmed, fingers trembling slightly. “your new apartment,” he replied simply. then, after a pause, “unless… you’d rather move in with me.”

from then on, everything changed. bruce wasn’t just your benefactor; he was your best friend, your confidant, and eventually, your lover.