#Nightwing x reader

[ahqkas]

Do you think you could a reverse of you "attractive things they do without realizing" with the bat boys?

♯ ATTRACTIVE THINGS YOU DO . . . that make them go crazy ! — part 1

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts, mention of reader’s hair

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

simply attending gala with him

the gala was in full swing, the soft hum of conversation and the tinkling of crystal glasses weaving through the grand hall. bruce wayne stood at the center of it all, the undisputed star of the evening, yet his focus wasn’t on the crowd. it was on you.

you stood beside him, your hand lightly wrapped around his forearm, a subtle yet intimate gesture that spoke things without saying a word. the way your fingers rested there, so effortlessly claiming him as yours, sent a warmth spreading through his chest—a feeling that, for once, wasn’t from the weight of responsibility or the burden of his double life. it was softer, lighter. it was you.

bruce’s sharp eyes, trained to assess every detail in a room, couldn’t help but linger on you. the dress you wore was nothing short of perfection—not that it could have been anything else. he had ensured it. every stitch, every line, every fold of fabric had been crafted with you in mind. he had selected the finest material, rich and smooth beneath the touch, ensuring it draped over your figure with the kind of elegance that turned heads the moment you stepped into a room.

the deep hue of the gown complemented his suit nicely, catching the light in subtle ways, as though it, too, was vying for his attention. the neckline framed your collarbones delicately, and the way the fabric hugged your form made it impossible for his mind not to wander to how well he knew every curve beneath. the gentle train swirled around your heels like liquid, moving with you in an almost hypnotic rhythm, every step making his heart beat just a little faster.

bruce had commissioned it specifically for you, worked with the designer himself to ensure it would fit you like a second skin—tailored to highlight everything he found most captivating about you. it wasn’t just vanity, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish the way every person in the room couldn’t help but notice you. no, it was deeper than that. dressing you in the finest fabrics, wrapping you in elegance, was his way of saying what words often couldn’t: you’re extraordinary, and the world should know it.

to you, he wasn’t just bruce wayne, gotham’s elusive billionaire. he wasn’t the brooding vigilante who prowled the night. he was just . . . bruce. and in that moment, he felt more real, more whole, than he had in years.

he tilted his head slightly, glancing down at you, and his lips tugged into the faintest of smiles—a rare expression, softer than most would ever see. the subtle scent of your perfume reached him as you leaned closer to whisper something, your voice a low melody against the backdrop of the room. he didn’t even catch the words; he was too lost in the curve of your smile, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the warmth of your touch radiating through the fabric of his suit.

his thoughts betrayed him, wandering ahead to a quieter moment later, when the gala was over, and it was just the two of you again. but for now, he stood tall, the perfect host, his hand moving to cover yours on his arm. his thumb brushed against your knuckles, a silent gesture of affection and gratitude. he didn’t say it aloud—he didn’t need to—but he was thinking it with every fiber of his being: you’re the most beautiful thing in this room, and you don’t even know it.

seeing you work at his office

bruce leaned back in his leather chair, the polished desk between you serving as the only barrier to his unraveling thoughts. you stood on the other side, flipping through a file with the kind of focus that made his chest tighten, utterly oblivious to the effect you were having on him. the pencil skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that felt almost sinful, every line and contour designed to torment him. the fabric clung just right, emphasizing the curve of your waist and the sway of your body each time you shifted. and then there was the blouse—white, crisp, and perfectly fitted, the faintest hint of skin peeking where the buttons strained against your figure. it was driving him to the edge.

the sharp click of your heels echoed softly as you moved around the room, your voice calm and professional as you recounted details of a recent meeting, flipping a page in the file without missing a beat. but bruce wasn’t listening. not really. his gaze followed the way your fingers smoothed the papers, delicate but deliberate, and his mind betrayed him. those same hands . . . what would they feel like tangled in his hair, tugging him closer? or splayed against his chest, nails dragging lightly as he pressed you against the wall?

he shifted in his seat, jaw tightening as he tried to force himself back to the present. but it was impossible. the way the soft material of your blouse tucked into that pencil skirt left just enough to the imagination while teasing at everything he wanted to do to you. his mind raced ahead, envisioning the fabric bunched around your hips, your voice losing its composed edge as he silenced every word with his lips

you glanced up at him suddenly, your eyes catching his, and for a moment, his composure faltered. his sharp blue gaze was darker now, focused entirely on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. his tongue darted across his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.

“are you almost finished?”

“just a few more minutes.”

his thoughts raced ahead, imagining the way your name would sound falling from his lips, low and rough, as he pulled you into his lap. how your soft gasps would fill the room, mingling with the shuffle of papers and the creak of leather as his control finally slipped. bruce’s mind was already plotting, already deciding just how many minutes he’d let you finish your work before he gave in.

DICK GRAYSON

the quiet hum of the city filtered through the slightly cracked window, the distant sounds of gotham settling into the night. dick sat cross-legged on the couch, his hair still damp from a quick shower after patrol, wearing a loose gray shirt and sweatpants. you were tucked into the corner of the couch, legs pulled up to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, your chin resting on your knees. there was something so effortlessly comfortable about the way you curled into yourself, the soft glow of the lamp painting your features in warm hues.

he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger, caught by the way the corners of your lips curved into a gentle smile as you listened to him recount something ridiculous wally had said earlier. it wasn’t just your smile, though it always had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs—it was the way your gaze stayed fixed on him, warm and attentive, like he was the only thing that mattered in the world right now.

“are you even listening?” he teased, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he tilted his head to catch your gaze more fully.

you laughed softly, a sound that melted into the quiet of the room like it belonged there. “i am,” you insisted, shifting slightly to prop your chin higher on your knees, the movement drawing his attention to the curve of your bare shoulders beneath the oversized sweatshirt you were wearing—his sweatshirt, he realized with a pang of fondness.

“good,” he said, his voice softer now, his lips curving into an easy smile. but he didn’t pick up where he left off. instead, he found himself studying the little things: the way your hair framed your face, the way your eyes glimmered with quiet amusement, the small, almost unconscious sway of your head as you rested against your knees.

“don’t stop,” you murmured, your smile widening.

dick chuckled, shaking his head. “i wasn’t sure if my story could compete with . . . well, you,” he said, his tone light but tinged with the kind of sincerity that always made your chest tighten.

“flatterer,” you teased, but the way your cheeks warmed didn’t escape him.

when you arch your back in a chair

he had only meant to grab a drink and check in with you, but the second he entered the room and saw you sitting at the table, all coherent thought vanished. he froze in place, his gaze drawn to you like a moth to a flame. you were leaning forward in your chair, your elbows braced on the table and your back arched just slightly as you studied whatever had your focus. it was innocent—completely unintentional—but to him, it was anything but.

the way your shirt clung to your frame as you bent forward made his mouth go dry, the curve of your back teasing him in ways that had his imagination running wild. his eyes lingered on the dip of your waist, the way the soft fabric stretched just enough over your hips, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering further—thinking about how easy it would be to step behind you, trail his hands down that arch, and pull you closer.

dick swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away, but it was hopeless. his gaze snapped back to you as if on instinct, and this time, it wasn’t just the curve of your back that had his attention. it was the way your body moved, every subtle shift of your weight making his thoughts spiral deeper. he could almost feel the press of your skin against his palms, the heat of you beneath his hands as he tipped you just slightly further forward . . .

jesus, get it together, grayson, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair and trying to clear his head. but the damage was done, and now every inch of him was on edge, his pulse thrumming in his ears. it wasn’t fair how effortlessly you drove him crazy—how just existing could send his thoughts careening into territory that made him shift uncomfortably in place.

you glanced up suddenly, breaking him out of his haze. “hey, you good?” you asked, your brows furrowing slightly in concern.

the sound of your voice jolted him back to reality, though his heart was still racing. “fine,” he managed, his voice just a little rougher than usual. he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool despite the heat simmering beneath his skin.

but you weren’t convinced. there was a hint of amusement in your eyes as you leaned back slightly in your chair, giving him that knowing smile that always made his knees weak. “you sure?”

dick’s jaw clenched as you shifted again, his gaze flickering down to the curve of your waist before he caught himself. stop it. stop it right now. but then you tilted your head, and that damn teasing glint in your eyes told him you knew exactly what you were doing.

he took a step forward, bracing a hand on the table as he leaned down, his face suddenly inches from yours. his voice was low, rough, almost a growl. “you’re making it really hard to concentrate, you know that?”

JASON TODD

adjusting your skirt

jason had been leaning against the doorway, half distracted by his own thoughts, when the sight of you adjusting your skirt snapped his attention to full focus. you were standing in front of the mirror, tugging at the waistband and wiggling it higher on your hips, a casual, innocent motion meant to get the fit just right. but to him, it was anything but casual. his eyes locked on you, darkening as he watched the way the fabric shifted, sliding up the curve of your thighs with each subtle movement.

jesus christ, he thought, jaw tightening as he tried to tear his gaze away. he failed. the small adjustment—the roll of your hips, the way your hands smoothed the material over your figure—felt like it was designed to torment him. he muttered a quiet curse under his breath, barely audible but enough to let his frustration escape.

that little motion shouldn’t have had this kind of hold over him, but it did. the way you moved, so natural and effortless, made his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. his fingers twitched at his sides as he imagined stepping behind you, sliding his hands over yours to help—not that you needed it, but damn if he wouldn’t enjoy it anyway.

you turned slightly and caught his reflection in the mirror, green eyes shooting up to meet yours as if he hadn’t been blatantly staring. “everything okay, jay?”

jason cleared his throat. “yeah,” he said, though his voice was rougher than usual, betraying him. he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning heavier into the doorway, his tongue darting across his bottom lip as his gaze flicked down again. “just . . . keep doing what you’re doing.”

you have him a look—equal parts amused and curious—but went back to adjusting the skirt, smoothing it out once more. jason bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay put instead of crossing the room, grabbing your hips, and showing you exactly what that little movement of yours did to him.

this woman’s gonna be the death of me, he thought, his pulse hammering as he pushed off the doorway, muttering another curse under his breath. he needed to walk away before he did something reckless—something that would guarantee you wouldn’t be leaving that room anytime soon.

when you rant to him

jason leaned back on the couch, arms draped lazily over the backrest, but his focus was anything but casual. his eyes were locked on you as you paced the room, hands gesturing wildly while you went off on a rant about something that had you fired up. he couldn’t even remember how the conversation started—it didn’t matter. what mattered was the light in your eyes, the way your whole face animated with every word, and the fire in your voice as you got lost in your thoughts.

there was something magnetic about the way you threw yourself into it, like the world disappeared except for the thing you were so passionate about. it didn’t even matter if he understood half of what you were saying—though he was trying, really, he was—but he couldn’t look away from you long enough to focus on the details. he was too caught up in the way your brows furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, or the way your lips curved when you hit on a point you knew was good.

and that voice. it was captivating, filled with conviction and energy, a side of you that came alive when you cared about something. jason’s heart thudded in his chest as he watched you, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

every now and then, you’d glance at him to make sure he was keeping up, and he’d give a small nod, biting back the urge to say something dumb like, i’m not paying attention to your words, but i’m hanging on every second of you. instead, he’d murmur a quiet “yeah,” or “makes sense,” just to keep you talking.

but, damn, the way your whole body moved when you were this invested—it sent his mind places. there was a certain confidence in it, an unintentional sway in your steps as you walked back and forth, your gestures strong but graceful. it drove him crazy in the best way, made him want to grab you mid-rant, pull you onto his lap, and kiss you senseless just to see if that fire would transfer to him.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[drdawnbreaker]

Ah...ima need 50 cold showers now

18+ content, MDNI.

cw ;; male masturbation, fantasizing, doggy style, breeding kink implied, body descriptions, cum descriptions (i tried 🤥), female masturbation mentioned for 2 secs, poorly proofread as always :) pls enjoy

think about best friend!dick grayson after a late-night facetime call. right after a soft ‘goodnight’ from you, voice low and groggy before hanging up and leaving him alone. his is raspy and sultry by a default, groans already slipping through his lips as he palms his bulge at the memory of your pretty tits pushed together while laying on your side that’s basically tattooed onto his brain. it’s one of those i’ll regret this moments for him, simply due to the guilt of perverting his best friend that he’ll feel later on. for now, though, just the fabric of his plaid pajamas getting tighter around his cock is enough to disregard it.

it sucks that he can’t see you for a while; sucks that instead of feeling your tight cunt milk him dry he’s gotta do it himself. he’s stuck with the vivid image of your body bent to his needs, going “oh- fuck,” when the back of his head thumps the headboard, dick twitching with your back arched and ass bouncing against his pelvis. it’s so lewd he swears you can be heard, pathetic and high pitched uhn, uhn, uhn’s into his pillows that’d only make him anchor his fingers under your tummy and pummel your pretty pussy harder.

his hand glides over the thick vein along the underside of his shaft and he shudders, hips meeting his strangling grip as precum dribbles from the tip. he adds a twist to his wrist and lets out a particularly drawn out moan, abs contracting as his bicep tenses at his efforts. his climax builds as his heavy balls tense and he forces himself to a slower stroke, drawing a metallic taste when his teeth bite into his lip. he can hear you begging him to keep going.

“shit. shit, baby,” dick’s adam’s apple bobs as he rolls his neck, free hand tugging wrinkles in the sheets. his bright idea of bringing himself to the edge is abandoned once his reality is drowned out; balls deep inside of you instead, getting you crying on his cock when he fucks you full. mmfuck, ‘s so good, dickie, please- you’re whining incoherently for him, eyes rolling as drool soils his pillowcases, left at his mercy while his long cock breaks you in. by now he’s palming your asscheeks like he’ll lose you, just as loud as you when he’s groaning for you to be a good friend and keep throwing it back onto him.

once his hips stutter, dick calls your name, peeling his eyelids open at the sign of overstimulation. he almost feels pathetic now, dealing with the sight of his cum splattered along his abdomen and dripping down his shaft with a few more long thrusts. he’s made a mess just for you, cum thick and warm against his skin—it’s a shame you won’t see it. a curse leaves his lips in defeat, thumb grazing his tip and bringing himself to a twitch once more.

inside, though- he needs to be inside of you and he craves it so much that he can’t bring himself to stop. matter of fact, he couldn’t stop—not once he realizes he’s still throbbing for your cunt. your best friend fucks his hand just wishing he could indulge in your pussy, pulling all those pretty noises outta you. those same pretty noises you’re muffling into your own pillow right now, aching for his dick to bruise your insides and fuck you stupid.

[nosyrobin]

Jester!reader who is some random person that helps crimes wears a medieval jest costume that is either monochrome for night stealths but is bright and happy colors for random day shenanigans. Bruce thinks the damned jester is working for joker, which makes Bruce think joker is up to something. But when he goes to joker, joker is immediately confused but then gets angry thinking Batman is after another clown that’s “better” than him. Bruce leaves the aslyum and looks around cameras for the jester. The jester, he finally see them. He can’t tell if it’s a girl, or a boy. They seem genderless, they seem skinny as well with how the sleeves of their so called costume is loose, covering their hand.

And the pants are baggy as well, jingle bells on the hat, and shoes, so it will be easy to hear them. Bruce assigns dick to go after the jester, as dick goes off on patrol after the jester. Bruce narrows his eyes seeing how the jester just disappears in the night. What throws him off more is how the jester is flexible, inhumane ways of flexibility. Dick is soon chasing the jester who randomly does a wall run and flips behind dick, dick is ready to block any attacks from behind only to be shock at the jester running away and throwing an ace card down. Dick picks it up, that was before it exploded. Leaving dick to cough smoke out, the jester laughs and flips away into the night. Yep, it’s gonna be trouble getting the one.

[sunsburns]

just saw your recent post!

can you write yandere dick grayson? (can be a drabble, heacanon, fic or anything i will eat it up because your writing is mwah) it's okay if you don't want to write it, just wanna say this in case you do :)) thanks for taking the time to read this!?

oh my god. (18+, voyeurism)

yandere!dick grayson has a terrible dread knawing in the pits of his stomach whenever he sees you. it comes from his gut, twisting and turning everything in its wake as it slowly crawls up, up and up into his throat, having it close up the second you look his way.

you send him soft smiles and shy waves. he crumbles into dust every single time.

but you're friends. good friends who met through a mutual friend at a bar. friends who get along well, who get brunch together once a week if life doesn't get in the way.

he's your friend and he looks out for you, keeps tabs on you, and remembers the stories you tell him, all the little details. (the chipped nail polish on your left thumb as you wave your hand around while the two of you were grabbing drinks one night. the slight twitch of your lip when you briefly mention how the guy who used to bother you at work suddenly leaves you alone.) dick likes to remember those things about you.

he likes to walk you home, to hug you before you turn around. he likes the way your body presses against his, how your arms wrap themselves around his shoulders and next, his own holding your waist closely. he thinks you fit against him perfectly.

dick only wants to make sure you get home safely, because who knows what could happen in the streets of gotham if a pretty thing like you walks alone in the dark?

there can be creeps lurking, eyeing you, following you. watching, waiting for that split second you turn around—your dress fluttering in the late breeze, the peek of your ass before you push the skirt down and hurry up the steps to your apartment building, waving at dick before stepping inside.

yeah, it would be terrible.

dick never would have considered himself a pervert, he would never call himself that. oh, but that dread that claws at him whenever you're around has him doubting himself sometimes. because how can he excuse his lingering eyes? how can he excuse the bruises on his knuckles after he beats a guy because you mentioned, barely, how he gave you a bad feeling.

well...

maybe he can brush it off because the next day you're huffing over his wounds, touching him, cleaning the crusted blood off of them, kissing the bruise.

maybe he can brush it off as taking care of you. watching you through your wide-open blinds, he can see you sleeping during those late nights on patrol. he just wants to make sure you're okay.

he just wants to make sure that there's no one hiding in the shadows of your bedroom whenever you step out of the shower, skin still wet when you toss the towel aside.

dick thought you were gorgeous. and you are. of course, other people were going to stare, but during the night, late into the after-hours, when you're alone in your bed, he makes sure that no one else can see you.

that no one else can hear the quiet sighs and moans you make when you touch yourself, how flustered you get, how your skin glows in the faint moonlight of gotham while you quiver under the sheets, lips parted and shaking, brows furrowed deeply.

dick makes mental notes of everything you do, every little detail marked to memory.

and yeah, he feels guilty. this clearly isn't how friends work, and there's probably someone getting mugged down the street that he should be helping, but staying by your window seems like a better way to spend the night.

[gay-dorito-dust]

lmao this is my first time giving a request. Could you maybe do dick Grayson head cannons?

Most of these hdc come from my little brain that I thought fit Dick in general, it’s not based on stuff (some of them are but not all) if ppl agree or don’t agree, I couldn’t care less honestly. Also thanks for the request anon, hope you like it! 🫶

I know I write him as a little goofy goober but he tends to play up this character so that he doesn’t have to open up about anything. Is it foolproof? Not entirely and it solely depends on the person and their relationship to him,those of whom that pick up what he’s putting down, and those (you) who can easily see through this facade and know something is up.

He’s more often than not the type who will become more affectionate in private where it’s just you, him and Hayley. Dick doesn’t need anybody else other then you two, his confidants as he so playfully called you both one day, and he’s more then content then he’s ever been.

Older sibling syndrome is strong in this boy.

Foot wars are a common occurrence in your shared apartment as you push against the others foot with your own to see who’s going to be victorious, only for you to accidentally smack him in the face with your foot and the foot war becomes ten times worse, seeing as how as Dick often wins them more then you did.

He will never stop feeling guilty about Jason’s death. Never. That boy who was filled with love and life and claimed that being robin was magic was still within Jason somewhere, dick just knows this to be true, even if Jason loves to claims that that little kid was gone.

And while he’s glad that Jason is back in his life, dick couldn’t help but feel as though he could’ve done better by him at times, holding onto that guilt and shame for not being their for his brother that still killed him inside to this day whenever he saw Jason laugh and or smile at something. It hurts but Dick will never stop being in Jason’s corner, not once. If Gotham was against Jason then Dick will gladly be by Jason’s side, to show that his allegiance to his brother would outweigh a lot of things.

(I’m so normal about dick and Jason being brothers can’t you tell 🥲 leave me here and be delusional)

The same applies to Damian also, which is why your mostly acquainted with both Jason and Damian in comparison to the rest of his family because they often come over by pure coincidence, or because dick dragged them by their ears with a smile on his face.

Insists that you cling onto his legs while he does pull ups and or sit on his back while he does push ups as he lets you count.

Complains to you when he looses the nightwing look alike contest, and to Jason no less, which no one that knows him personally allows him to live down.

They (Tim and Stephanie) even make memes out of it.

Has Hayley as his Lock Screen, you as his Home Screen. Both wearing cute matching pyjamas. So when he’s on his phone people think he’s smiling at his picture of Hayley -which is true- but he’s also smiling at the picture of you also.

His family pester him about you a lot, even Bruce asks when he’s going to meet you, claiming he’s not going to get any younger should Dick hold back on introducing you to him.

Even Alfred gets in on this as well but Dick always has an excuse locked and loaded when these questions are asked, but even he knows that Bruce knows that it’s all bullshit, however he doesn’t say anything outright incase Dick didn’t feel comfortable introducing you to them yet.

Wears only boxers to sleep or boxers and a light blue shirt, it depends on what he’s feeling really.

Loves living in the moment with you as you enjoy the others company without feeling the need to fill the air with chatter, you could just both exist and still love each other regardless because Dick didn’t feel the need to talk all the time, so moments like these were what he longed for most.

Ungracefully fell on his ass in fuzzy soaks once and hurt his tailbone in the process. It was funny until he asked to you put a bag of ice on the afflicted area.

Loved narrating what you and or Hayley do in a goofy voice that never fails to make you smile.

Doesn’t open up immediately but once he does it’s a sign of trust. He admits to his flaws in past relationships and how he wasn’t the most faithful and often saw commitment as a challenge. He understands if you see that as a sign to leave the relationship, he doesn’t expect anything from you, but if you did stay then he’s more then happy to not repeat those mistakes in your relationship.

Knows that people see Bruce when they look at him, he expects it because after being with him as long as he has it was only logical that he picked up some habits along the way whether he liked it or not.

Has a big heart but claims that Jason’s heart was twice as big because he’s so full of love and believed in love.

[melody-rose-heart]

Me when i see batman and nightwing:

[nemesyaaa]

szjdjskzkzkzkzk its been a long time since I wanted to read this one. i finally can catch on it and it's just so good !! your writings is always so beautiful and impressive. the Corpse Bride IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOVIES AND you did such a great job with this one !! i love all the themes movies of your kinktober ! 💓

eventually, you find your way upon the old graveyard, a place so veiled in melancholy and life's only certainty that it feels oddly comforting. headstones lie weathered and half-sunk, moss eating up the carved words, whispering secrets of lives long past. in the fading light, you find a quiet spot beneath an ancient oak, its branches stretched wide above you like protective arms. — just the vibes, the writings of the whole paragraph. it's incredible !!

stepping from the shadows, a figure woven of moonlight and sorrow—he stands in a weathered suit that calls out from a time long gone, his jaw is sharp, dark hair tousled, and his eyes plunging, glimmering with a haunting loneliness. — dick is so beautiful, I can't. work of art !!!

"but you did." he steps closer, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes. "your vows, your longing, your regrets…they pulled me from my rest." his fingers graze the edge of a headstone. "i am bound here, wandering, longing for what i’ve lost. but you stand before me now. what else is there for me to do...but say yes?" — KICKING MY FEETS if you care because well...this man !! i NEED HIM so badly

"then choose me." his voice is soft, a plea dressed in honey. "let me be your companion. not to bind you, but to journey with you. i'm sure it's more than most could give." — i would say yes without any hesitation. i'm yours, dick. but god, I loved this 🫶🏿

ִֶָ ࣪˖𓉸ִֶָྀི ִֶָ་༘ᯓ enviedear's FEAST OF THE DEAD

𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚜—𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚝��𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍—𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐-𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝—𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚙. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍—𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎. 𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.

CW | corpse bride au, ghost!dick grayson, reader doesn't want her arranged marriage, dick doesn't want to be a roaming spirit anymore, written like if victor chose emily. 0.8k words

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN

the night air is stout with the scent of pine and earth, thick and heavy, almost too potent—mystifying. as you wander deeper into the woods, the last rays of evening slip between the ochre and russet leaves, casting flickering shadows on the path. there's a certain solace in the quiet rustle of the trees, so far from the chaos of wedding plans and the weight of expectations—the very thought of it all feels like a heavy cloak draped over you, stifling instead of freeing.

you started walking aimlessly after slipping away from the rehearsal. drifting through the woods and muttering practiced vows, but the words still feel foreign on your tongue. as if they belong to a life that isn’t yours. step by step, a strange unease tugs at you, wrapping and coiling around your heart. it isn’t that you don’t care for him—it’s just… complicated. there’s a yearning in you, a longing for choice, for a different path, seemingly left unbeaten.

eventually, you find your way upon the old graveyard, a place so veiled in melancholy and life's only certainty that it feels oddly comforting. headstones lie weathered and half-sunk, moss eating up the carved words, whispering secrets of lives long past. in the fading light, you find a quiet spot beneath an ancient oak, its branches stretched wide above you like protective arms.

you kneel in the soft grass and set down the small velvet pouch holding your wedding ring and tied with a blue ribbon. something about saying your vows here feels almost sacrilegious, yet the isolation within your chest wraps around you as you close your eyes, the weight of it pressing in.

"from this day forward," you begin, voice wavering and off-pitch. "in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow…" each word floats into the silence, a promise of things hoped for but unfelt. perhaps forever. left to crave a love that’s less like a cage, something free, wild, untethered.

as you finish your vows, the ring slips from your shaky fingers, catching a glint of twilight before it lands beside an unmarked grave. the ground seems to hum beneath you as the ring settles into the earth.

"forgive me." you murmur, suddenly hyperaware of the fact you're disturbing someone's resting place. as you reach down to retrieve it, your fingers brush the cool ground, and the earth beneath you trembles, the wind stirs, whipping the leaves into a frenzy. the shadows seem to thicken, leaving your seeing splotches in your vision.

and then, he appears.

stepping from the shadows, a figure woven of moonlight and sorrow—he stands in a weathered suit that calls out from a time long gone, his jaw is sharp, dark hair tousled, and his eyes plunging, glimmering with a haunting loneliness.

you stumble back, heart pounding. "who—who are you?"

"they called me dick," he says, his voice low and lyrical, woven with threads of regret. "i was a groom who once made promises. now they're a memory…and you have called me forth."

his gaze falls to the ring in the grass, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "how fitting, your offering. a proposal, i assume?"

"no! i—I didn’t mean to—" you're fumbling for words—the correct words.

"but you did." he steps closer, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes. "your vows, your longing, your regrets…they pulled me from my rest." his fingers graze the edge of a headstone. "i am bound here, wandering, longing for what i’ve lost. but you stand before me now. what else is there for me to do...but say yes?"

a shiver runs down your spine as he draws nearer, the weight of his presence both enthralling and terrifying. "but i can’t marry you. i don’t even know you."

"ah, but you do." he steps into the moonlight, his figure almost merging with the shadows, an apparition knitted from sorrow and darkness. "you feel it too, don’t you? this pull, this haunting need. i've wandered empty, bound to nothing but silence… until you came."

you shake your head, reality shattered and narrowing in. "i'm engaged—i have a wedding to go through with. please..."

"yet here you are." he counters softly, almost mockingly, "rehearsing vows you don’t believe in, in a place where time has no grasp." his gaze locks onto yours, piercing, searching and he leans in. "what do you truly want?"

your heart hammers as you grip the ring in your palm. "i want freedom. i want a choice in my own life."

"then choose me." his voice is soft, a plea dressed in honey. "let me be your companion. not to bind you, but to journey with you. i'm sure it's more than most could give."

the air around you grows thick as you weigh his offer, the pull of the life you know against the thrill of an unknown freedom, shimmering like distant stars.

"will you take my hand?" dick’s ghostly blue eyes are full of expectancy, a light in the darkness. "come on, it would be so easy. allow me to unravel the ties that bind. just say yes."

caught in a fork in the road—your life path divulging into two. you feel the ache of longing, the lure of something that feels like fervent fate. and so finally, with a trembling breath and a shaky hand, you whisper, "yes."

[gilverrwrites]

Pervy Dick touching Tim’s friend for the first time and just slowly striping another layer of your clothes each time you finish. Dick absolutely loving how fucking shy you are about how dirty you’re being, cheeks growing warmer each time he opens your legs a little wider…

The real question is: does Tim ever begin to suspect anything?

━ [Post in reference] Warnings: Manipulation, Virgin!Reader.

OOOOhhhhhhhh, him just loving the sound of your meek little voice, shaken by pleasure and punctuated by little whines and moans as he fucks his fingers in and out of your needy pussy in slow, calculated movements. He can’t resist whispering teasing questions in your ear between nipping at your neck, and sucking on your collar, just to coax more out of you.

“You like that, don’t you?” His teeth sink in a little harder when all you do is nod, and his cock throbs at the little squeak that escapes your lips. “C’mon, baby girl. Use your words for me.”

“Yes!” You cry, scrunching your eyes shut as if to hide your shame, but your walls tighten around him. You’re fucking loving it, and he knows it. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” He rewards you by brushing your already swollen clit, his breath hot on your face as he leans up to get a better look at you. “What do you like about it?”

“C’mon baby, Tim likes dirty talk, you gotta practice.” He keeps encouraging when you fail to answer. It’s a big fat lie, probably. Dick has little to no idea what Tim is into in bed. “Tell me what you like so I can keep doing it.”

“I don’t know.” You winge. He’s awful. Getting off on how naïve you are. He’s pumping your pussy so good that you can’t get your thoughts straight, can’t put your wants into words. “Just feels good, so good. I feel so full, Dick!”

The use of his name almost makes him snap, makes him want to rip your panties off and bury his cock so deep inside that tight little hole. Then you'll feel full, so fucking full on this thick cock, overflowing with his his load as he ruts it deep into you. But he doesn’t want to push you too far too fast.

At his prolonged silence, you peek through your heavy lids, so perfect, so eager for his approval and he can’t help swooping down to capture your mouth with his own.

“You say my name so pretty, baby.” He coos against your lips. “Say it again.”

And dear god, one piece of clothing per orgasm is insane. Just imagine, by the time he gets you down to your panties they’re well and truly ruined. A bit like you.

The elastics all stretched out by his hand, the crotch too from where he’d held them to the side while he’d eaten you out like he was on death row, and you were his last meal. Not to mention they’re absolutely drenched, having soaked up every last drop from your weeping cunt. All your slick and cum, all of Dick’s excess spit.

He wonders how easy it would be to sneak them out of your place in his pocket later.

As for Tim, of course he’d catch on eventually. He’s supposedly the world’s second greatest detective after all, but he’s so into you that he’s a little blind to it at first. Sure, he thinks it’s strange that you’re spending so much time with his brother, even when he’s not around. That Dick is so frequently visiting from Blüdhaven, and seemingly only to see you, but he just pegs it down to the two of you having such a great, platonic connection. He’s happy that you get on with his family, and that Dick has found a friend outside of vigilantism.

But then he notices how frequently the two of you text, from first thing in the morning, right into the late hours of the night. Previously you’d been pretty relaxed about letting him pick it up for you when your hands are full, or just generally letting him look, but recently you’re becoming more and more cagey about it, always tilting your screen away or getting panicky when he offers to check your messages for you. He convinces himself it’s nothing though. Sure, when he asks, you almost always tell him you’re texting Dick, but that doesn’t mean you’re not also texting other people. The two of you aren’t exclusive, you’re not even technically dating, so you could be chatting to other guys, and he hates the idea of it but it’s your prerogative. He doesn’t make the link that the suspected other guy and Dick might be the same person, because unconsciously he doesn’t want to.

But the red flag really starts waving when you arrive at his place one morning for breakfast. You're kind of a mess. Your hair is unkempt, there are dark circles under your eye, and you’re wearing a very familiar, dark blue hoodie.

“You good? You look…” He racks his brain for the right word. You’re still cute but he doesn’t want to come on too strong, nor too harsh. “Rough.”

“Me? Yeah, just couldn’t sleep last night, and then when I did, I overslept and basically had to run over here.” You’re lying, he knows your tells but he doesn’t call you out on it. You’ll talk to him when and if you’re ready.

“Is that Dick’s hoodie?”

“Um, yeah. We hung out last night, it was cold, so he let me borrow it.” It’s the truth, but it rolls off your tongue nervously, and it doesn’t sit right with him.

20 minutes later you’re sitting in a diner, ordering your usual, chatting with the waitress. Your head is turned to face her at just the right angle for Tim to spot the reddish-purple mark peeking out from the collar of Dick’s hoodie. A love bite that certainly had not been there when you’d sent him a Snapchat selfie yesterday afternoon. He’d know, he’d studied every inch of that photo; the way the light hit your eye, the smile on your soft lips, how the vest top you’d been wearing exposed your unmarred shoulders and neck.

“Did you say you only hung out with Dick last night?” He asks when it’s just the two of you again.

“Uh, yeah.” You look at him quizzically.

“Just Dick? Nobody else at all?”

“Nope, just Dick, me, and Cary Elwes’ Robin Hood.” The truth again. “Why?”

Things rapidly start making sense. There was a time when Dick had to lodge himself between the two of you just to join in your conversations, but recently it’s like you’ve been glued to him. Anytime Tim makes a dirty joke, or pays you a compliment, instead of looking away all sheepishly like you used to, your eyes now flitter over to his brother. You always smell like his aftershave, and just last week he’d picked up the undeniable stench of sex on you after Dick had dropped you off for a coffee date. He was pretty sure he spotted one of Dick’s shirts peeking out from under your bed the other day, but now he’s certain.

“No reason.” He mutters. Hurt that you’d been sneaking around with his brother and lying to his face about it. Furious at Dick for sleeping with you when he knew damn well that you were his, or at least that you would be one day. He’s annoyed at himself for not figuring it out sooner.

And just under that storm of anger and disbelief, there’s a tiny little spark. A competitive, possessive notion tapping incessantly at the back of his brain that wants to win you back and rub in Dick’s face.  

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

dick grayson instagram hcs

basics

we are pretending dick is not a cop in this because i said so!

he's a professional model but also does perform at a local circus as a special guest

he's not actually going to the olympics (yet) but the american team has been trying to contact him for the better part of the decade so maybe you can convince him to go

he's kind of like one of your friends who you think is chill and normal but then you go to their ig and you find out they're something of a local celebrity?

everybody in gotham already knew him as bruce wayne's son but also he went semi viral on tiktok and got a bunch of new fans (and some edits) out of it

he used to have a less serious pfp but his management convinced him to use this one instead

followers + following

obviously you're there

as well as his friends and family

he manages to get away with following the superheroes since i mean, basically everybody else does as well

also a lot of industry people that he meets, both for modeling and gymnastics/trapeze

highlights

he is an abuser of the story function

will spend any opportunity to brag about his pretty girlfriend and all of the dates and trips you guys go on

he is weirdly good at taking photos, will give you tips on how to pose to get your best angles

also he has a lot of fans so he likes to post a photo of you every once in a while to remind everyone that he's happily taken

will also repost your work related stuff to be like hey look at how cool my gf is at her job!

dude has a million highlights that he updates for the fashion weeks each year

a lot of photos of his looks, him meeting with certain designers, it's mostly his team who posts this

same thing with his shows in the sense that it's usually other people (including you) taking photos of him while he's performing

but this is a more personal venture of his so he asks everyone to send him the pics and he decides which ones to post

will also repost stories from fans who came to the show!

oooh this man posts the most jaw dropping photos of himself

he will have just woken up and post a photo that makes you think it's so unfair how perfect somebody can be

he just likes to post when he feels good about himself and i support!

haley and (i did not come up with a name for your guys' cat so you guys can have fun with that!) also have their own dedicated highlight

it is exactly as cute and wholesome as you would think it is

there are even more highlights if you keep on scrolling. he has highlights for each year's fashion weeks, as mentioned, as well as trips you guys have been on (the most recent is a trip to greece and italy!)

posts

once again he's one of those infuriating sort of famous people who are like fine as hell but they post just enough cute and relatable content that he actually seems like a real and very nice guy (fun fact, he is!)

you can tell immediately when he's been on a trip because he'll have at least 3 posts up and they're all of the same place

you guys are like the photo taking couple

if you weren't good at taking pics before you started dating, his skills definitely rub off on you

he'll do the thing where he gets you to pose for him so he can take a photo of you and then you take the same style of photo for him

it's disgusting you guys have matching photos on your feeds of each other

if it wasn't already common knowledge that you guys are dating, i can imagine the conspiracy theory videos being like guys they were in the same place? at the same time? and they took the same type of pics? i think they're dating

he loves cooking with you (while i personally think it would be really funny if he can't cook, in some of the comics they do mention that he can cook, but either way he enjoys cooking with you)

you guys are like the parent friends who host dinner at their place and there's usually a theme surrounding seasonal ingredients and everything's plated really well

you probably watch cooking shows together and are now you can't serve a dish without some microgreens or sliced radish on top or something

also yes he did plan the picnic and he's quite proud of it

he watched all of those charcuterie board hacks to make the flowers and fancy cheese arrangements

and there were chocolate dipped strawberries, champagne with glasses, and freshly baked cookies (alfred might have helped with that one)

also yes he does wear glasses!!!! only at home when he's reading or staring at a screen too long. his prescription's not that bad

———

jason ver.

[everythingdcbxm1012]

Drabblish, Dick Grayson x Reader

TW - Mentioned abuse.

You are beyond thankful for Dick Grayson. He is everything you needed. He' was's willing to be goofy for you, with you. He tried learning sign language, because he knew you were learning it to. He swung by one night during a patrol, hanging upside down outside your bedroom window. Screams were screamed. He tried signing, kiss. He messed up and signed, number instead.

You're also thankful that he's passed every test and filter you could find. You'd always seen and heard that people with abusive parents were more likely to end up in abusive partnerships. Always hearing stories of people getting murdered by their husbands. Your brother was good at ratting out the bad ones and he approved of Dick so that had to mean something. Besides, when you were trying to save a spider you accidentally killed and cried. Dick dressed in black and held a miniature funeral for it. He cried.

Yes, you are very thankful for Dick Grayson.

[vinamari]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[ahqkas]

Hello! ^^

First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.

♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.

( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.

he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.

“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.

bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”

alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”

he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )

the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.

alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”

DICK GRAYSON

dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.

( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.

“dick!”

“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.

“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )

dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.

one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.

JASON TODD

jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.

( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.

“jay!”

before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.

“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”

“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )

jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”

he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”

TIM DRAKE

tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.

( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.

suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.

“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”

“no promises.” )

your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.

he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[gaypirate420]

Dick Grayson by Dan Mora you will always be famous.

[martiniluvr]

minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

thinking about that tiktok trend where people call their boyfriends “my husband” in front of them to see their reaction, and how if you did that to dick grayson, his ass would not hear a word you said after calling him that. just a big ole grin. ringing in his ears. butterflies in his stomach, flustered as all hell. he’d think about it for the rest of the week with a small smile, wondering if the idea is really so far-fetched.

now, jason todd wouldn’t even blink. like, yeah, he’s your husband. you’re his wife. obviously—he’s felt that way since about two months after you started dating, when he realised he couldn’t wake up next to anyone else ever again. he’d recall the jewellery store he passed a couple of weeks back with the emerald-cut, gold-set ruby in the window. well…all that’s missin’ is the ring, right?

that’s all.

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bruce Wayne fucked his partners through the mattress—and it depended on who and why. If you know he’s Batman, then he’d fuck for stress relief, to uncoil the sickening knot in his belly. However, if you’re unaware of his nighttime activities and believe you’d just lucked up meeting Bruce Wayne, then he’d fuck for ego. He’s got a point to prove: all those years as a recluse hadn’t dulled his ability to grant a lady a good time; that the stories of his youthful adventures are true. (Though his ego bleeds over into Batman as well since he wonders if he’s too old to still be the Dark Knight. If he’s lost his edge).

Bruce’s stamina is insane. He’d have you spread on your belly while he drove his cock into you. One hand enclosed around your throat, the other encircling your waist, and his lips grazing over your ear. Warm gusts of air caressing your cheek with each huff and grunt. The faint scent of his cologne lingering within the atmosphere, though it had been toppled by the aroma of sweat and sex. “Fuck,” he gritted out,” so tight f’me, doll. Only for me. Mine, aren’t you?” There was pride in being the one to undo Bruce Wayne, to make him cuss and grunt like a caveman, to draw out his Gotham accent. He was usually so put-together and driven.

Time warped and melted whenever Bruce had you beneath him. Despite his age, (don’t let him hear that) he could fuck for hours, content to drive his cum back into your hole until he came again. In fact, he enjoyed the slickness. There was something about keeping you beneath him that soothed the territorial monster caged within him like Mr. Hyde. Rarely could you lure the possessive, emerald eyed, envious beast out; Bruce was old and had dealt with his fair share of women seeking an emotional response. But with the perfect concoction of circumstances could you shatter the manacles binding the dominating, jealous, spiteful side of him—and it was wonderful.

Dick Grayson (Dixon’s version) preferred to let his lover work for it. There was a tantalizing element to gazing at his partner while she straddled him, and attempted to sink down into his cock. Dick wasn’t girth-y like Jason or Bruce (nor as unshaven). No, Dick was slim and long—and pretty. Dick was shaven and trimmed, smooth and hairless if he could help it. He never liked to offer up unshaven goods; he thought it was rude.

“God, you. . . you ride like a pro,” he breathed out, nigh gasping as though he’d run a race beside Usain Bolt. A sheen of sweated coated his toned physique, and a scarlet blush left a fiery trail from his cheeks down to his neck. “Don’t stop till I say.” Dick is more selfish in bed than Jason. Unlike Jason, Dick knows he’s cute—pretty, even. He’s confident both in himself and his ability to be selfish and still make you cum. . . hard. He won’t hesitate to assume control if he’s not liking your rhythm, or if he just wants to be a little shit and knock your orgasm off kilter. “Oh, were you going to cum? Sorry. Didn’t notice.”

Speaking of orgasms, Dick cums beautifully, even when he’d rather be described as ‘’manly’’ and handsome. He couldn’t restrain the tremble of his muscular thighs, or quell the furnace roaring inside his belly, or freeze the stars bursting behind the paleness of his eyelids. “I know, pretty baby. I know. Tight, aren’t I? Let it out for me,” you cooed, caressing his sweat-slick, inky black curls. Dick nodded quick and desperately, coal black lashes falling over his oceanic eyes. “Yes. Yes. That’s it. Gonna cum again. Just keep going.” The power he’d stolen returned with a vengeance. He’d gone limp beneath you. Fucked out, his breaths tremulous and stuttered. Naturally, Dick’s palms found purchase upon your breasts, pinching and flicking your nipples before he exerted the last of his strength to lean forward and suckle one into his mouth.

(There’s hints of a mommy kink if you squint hard enough).

Jason Todd loved to see his partner deep-throat his cock. It’s a personal pleasure of his, the one time he allows himself to be selfish during sex. He’s not sure why it’s fascinating to him. Perhaps the sheer primality of watching you struggle to swallow his thickness intrigues him, excites him, causes the hairs on his forearms to stand at attention and the nerves within his body to buzz like a million bees trapped beneath his skin.“That’s right, baby, keep going. Till I see tears,” he murmured, as his large hands slithered up into your nape and tightened in your hair.” Show me how much you love me, baby.”

“What a beauty.” Jason’s chocolate smeared irises tipped backward, his slender hips bucking upward into the warm cavern of your throat, his cock spewing viscous ropes of pearlescent cum. Jason’s frame fell slack against the sofa. Sated. Only you could loosen the tautness in his shoulders like a ball of yarn. Boy, did he adore you.” I hope you can go all night. Cuz I got some steam I been needin’ t’ blow off.”

[redr0sewrites]

Can I request hcs for batboys experiencing the best blowjobs in their life from their s/o who is shy and has no experience in the sexual activities (like this is their first time doing and they were eager to please the boys)?

🥀A/n: YES!!!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!!!

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader

🥀Cw: smut, blowjob, dirty talk, praise, inexperienced/virgin!reader

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson :

he's more than a little cocky at first, cooing at you and treating you like a precious little angel. your inexperience and eagerness definitely turns him on a bit, and that makes him all the more susceptible to how skilled you are at giving him head

thinks it's cute how shy you are, and definitely wants you to be naked beneath him. he doesn't mind if you touch yourself while your pleasuring him, and thinks it's adorable how your eyes widen when you see how big he is

how is that going to fit in your mouth?

while he does tease and mock you just a liiiittle, Dick isn't an asshole

he talks you through it the entire time as he's gently pushing his cock into your mouth, praising you for taking him so well and brushing the tears from your eyes when you gag on his length

when you start sucking him off, Dick swears he's in heaven. he can't help but buck his hips and grind against your face, and it takes everything in him to restrain himself from grabbing a fistfull of your hair and fucking your throat

his head is tossed back and his thighs are twitching, he's mumbling out praises and unashamedly moaning your name like it's a prayer

if you tease him a bit like he did to you and edge him, he will cry and bitch and moan about it until you let him cum.

also, this man has STAMINA expect him to last a little while. if you end up getting too needy and start masturbating while sucking him off, Dick will instruct you on what to do, what pace you should set, and if you end up edging him, he'll make you edge yourself as well. i don't think he's a very strict dom often, but he is commanding when it comes to this. loooveesss when you moan around his cock, the vibrations make him even louder and he is not ashamed of screaming your name when he comes like a porn star. (literally everyone in a mile radius is traumatized)

for your first time, i dont think he'd make you swallow his cum, and it would take a little while until he asks to cum in your mouth. i do think he prefers if u swallow it though. and if you show him his cum in your mouth before swallowing? be prepared for at least 2 more rounds of him just eating you out cuz that turns him on SO QUICK. he prefers to cum in your mouth but won't for the first time out of fear that you think he's a weirdo (he is)

Jason Todd :

Jason is also big on praising you, especially when it comes to your first time sucking him off. he wants to make the experience as comfortable for you as possible and is adamant about having you tap out if anything makes you uncomfortable

thinks its hot when you kneel in front of him, he has a bit of a size kink and you in a smaller position turns him on more than he'd like to admit

makes you suck on his fingers before he lets you suck on his cock. he's a little bit mean and makes you spit on his dick as lube, there's something about how sloppy it is that makes him feral

holds your jaw while you take him in your mouth and coos the sweetest praises as you adjust to his size. Jason is quick to calm any anxieties you have about not being able to take him, and his hand doesn't leave your face the entire time you suck him off. whenever you gag or gasp around him, his thumb runs soothingly over your cheek and he pulls out ever so slightly

talks you through it at first, giving you firm instructions on how to please him.

"fuuck, yea doll, swirl your tongue jus' like that. see baby, you're a natural, practically made f'my cock.."

lots of soft grunts and groans with the occasional whine. he isn't as much of a talker as he begins to get close, but is still pretty vocal

prefers to pull out and cum on your chest, he definitely would not cum on your face but wouldn't mind cumming in your mouth. your chest is definitely his preference though, and he loves when you look up at him with big doe eyes as his release drips down your front

definitely returns the favor and makes you cum at least twice, and is also big on aftercare!!

Bruce Wayne :

listen, while Bruce is definitely into blowjobs, he gets off on your pleasure more than his own. he'll buy you one of those remote controlled vibrators to use on you while your sucking him off, and increases the vibrations when he's close so you both cum at the same time

very gentle with you. he doesn't want to make you gag or hurt you, and he keeps a cautious hand gently resting on the top of your head as you take him into your mouth

loooots of praise, especially when you moan around his cock from the vibrator

Bruce is very quiet during sex in general, but he's a little more vocal than usual when receiving head. he lets out soft sighs and groans of pleasure, mixed in with praises and affectionate whispers of your name

"yes, darling, just like that... so good f'me..."

his thighs twitch and shudder a looot when you suck him off, and his back arches ever so slightly <3 its a very pretty sight to see

while your first time would probably be in the safety and comfort of your bedroom, Bruce loves the intensity of semi-public sex. he definitely wants you to suck him off under his desk, the risk and thrill of being caught all the more prominent whenever footsteps are heard walking by his office doors

likes teasing you and edging you with the vibrator, he wants this to be a pleasurable experience for both of you but may tease you just a bit about cumming untouched

prefers to cum in your mouth, but he'll ask if it's okay before he does so. its a bit of a dirty secret, but he loves kissing you after you gave him head and tasting himself on your tongue. he isn't exactly possessive, but it arouses him more than he'd care to admit

very sweet with aftercare! he'll chuckle at you a bit if you complain about having a sore jaw, but otherwise treats you very well. he definitely always eats you out after you auck him off, even though you've already came. he also would be into experimenting with the remote control vibrator some more if your interested.... 😇

if this seems a teensy bit bad then im sorry, i wrote it while very sleep deprived 💀

ANYWAYS!!! HOPE U ENJOYED!!!! plsplsoslspslsps PLEASE send in jason todd asks this is not a drill