#nightwing x reader smut

[sassatoru]

"Stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? Wanted me to fuck you like I hate you."

this prompt with D.grayson fighting with brat!reader

PUHLEASE I NEED THAT thank yew! ;-;

dick wasn’t in the mood for your attitude. mr golden boy was tired, he’d just argued with bruce for an hour and you’d wanted his attention. in your defence he’d been gone a week.

“shut up.” dick’s scowl made your stomach flutter, in a way you hadn’t intended to feel.

you hated how perceptive he was at times, his eyes narrowed at you knowingly. “actually, i could blow off a little steam. get on the bed, and take this off.”

he motioned to your clothes, you walked off to the bedroom. usually he’d tease you back, playfully, and the sex would be a fight for power. you had a feeling there’d be no fighting today.

he had you spread open in no time, on your back, legs open so he’d fuck you deep and hard. the sounds of your skin slapping against his filled your ears. you didn’t have it in you to make another noise, your throat sore and achy. eyes squeezed shut and head tossed back.

“stupid slut, this is what you wanted, huh?”

his voice was a growl in your ear, it made you shiver, nails clawing down his back. you whined in response, body shaky, you could control the tremors that ran through you as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you.

“take it, you wanted this so take it.”

his hands pushed your thighs open wider, tears fell down your cheeks.

“wanted me to fuck you like i hate you. so take it.”

he didn’t stop, he wasn’t planning to stop until he wasn’t angry anymore, and who knows how long that’d be for. after all you’ve seen him go hours on the punching bag.

[dxckgrxsonx]

not to be inappropriate or anything but the idea of Dick Grayson looking up at you from between your thighs after he’s been down there for a while and breathing a sweet little, “hi baby.” like he hasn’t just lapped and sucked at your clit until you wept makes me unwell.

[mune-writes]

for your eyes only

smut under the cut, minors dni

⋆｡°✩ thinking about dick grayson and how he loves his perfect, pretty girl so much. his entire gallery is filled with pictures of you; photos of you that look as if they were taken by a professional photographer with just the right lighting as he captures you in all your good angles (though let’s face it—every angle of you is a good angle, especially to him) for you to post on your social media, others are of the two of you on dates, his hand in yours or at the small of your back, or nights in with the two of you wearing face masks and stuffing your mouths with popcorn as you watch trashy reality TV shows or riveting drama series on Netflix.

most of his gallery, however, is filled with candid pictures of you that he takes when you’re not looking or he snaps at just the right moments in order to capture the memory; you putting on lipgloss as you use your compact, pictures of your eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh heartily at his jokes, or grinning and your eyes twinkling with excitement as you play with the puppy the two of you adopted, or those of you with yours lips pursed and brows furrowed slightly as you concentrated on reading a book or drawing, mind too lost in your imagination and thoughts to notice the his phone’s camera flash in the warm, dim lighting of your room.

but his favorite pictures are concealed in a separate folder, one that requires a password and is guarded by several protections to keep others from potentially seeing or hacking into it. in all honesty though, most of these are videos of you that he likes to look at on those late nights he has to be away from you, just like tonight.

dick’s hand wraps around his cock, thumb rubbing over his thick, leaking tip, copying as best as he could how you’d hold him in your soft hands, pumping his fist up and down his shaft, desperate for some semblance of you as his eyes are glued to his screen, the sounds of his own voice echoing in his earphones (as if he’d ever risk anyone else hearing the sounds you’d make for him).

“pussy’s so good f’me, pretty,” he moans in the video as his hand spreads your folds, watching intently on how your cunt greedily stretches around his cock. “fuck—won’t last long, baby. you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he groans, burying himself inside you as you whine and moan and mewl against his hips snapping at your ass, each of his thrusts causing the fat of it to jiggle, until he finally pulls out, his cum painting your ass with creamy white ropes. but he’s not done yet, not when he scoops up some of it on his fingers and brings it up to your mouth— the good girl that you were for him, your tongue immediately darts out as you suck on his digits, and he lets out another groan; though this time dick isn’t sure if the sound is emanating from the video or from his own lips.

he scrolls through the folder, before landing on his favorite picture of you, knees pressed to your chest, legs spread so beautifully for him, the tip of his cock just a little bit cut off from the frame, your wet hole leaking with his cum, a blissed out, cockdrunk smile on your lips as your eyes catch in the light of the camera’s flash.

just thinking about that time with you is enough to make him finally cum from his own hand, imagining his fist was your tight cunt he loves so much.

he sighs, sweat trickling down his forehead as he slowly comes down from his high—only for him to perk up once again, blood rushing towards his cock when he sees a notification pop on on his screen: a message from you.

‘for your eyes only❣️” it read.

man, was he lucky to have you.

[mariswxts]

———————————————————FRAT.ᐟDICK THOUGHTS ᝰ.ᐣ

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, LADY KILLER AHEAD.ᐟ

From your first kiss slash make out with your pussy session with your best friend since childhood, things had been getting a little out of control, let’s say. You could never walk anywhere without the between of your thighs being sensitive from how he’d randomly invite you to his dorm or to a side closet to yank up your skirt, get on his knees and wrap his lips around your clit so you’d have to clamp a hand over your mouth so no one heard you.

Honestly, he was taking a whole new meaning to oral fixation.

“That’s it, just— just stay right there,” He mumbled against your cunt, and it’s not like you could move, especially when he’d made it so your legs were spread by his hands like you were the former acrobat here and his mouth was practically making out with your pussy, chin glistening and dripping as well, moaning shamelessly.

It blew your mind, how he could be more vocal than you right now, his own deep sounds followed up with high pitched ones harmonising with yours, backwards cap abandoned next to you. “Dickie, mmh,” All this had come to you sexualising the nickname you’d always had for him. The Dickie that had once engaged in pillow fights was now a big fan of getting surrounded by your thighs and making sure you couldn’t speak words.

Your shirt wasn’t even fully off, just unbuttoned enough to pull down your bra and suck on your tits, though your jeans were fully off— on days where you wore a skirt he wouldn’t even bother to take that off, it turned him on to eat a girl (you) out with his head under her skirt.

At this point you’ve narrowly avoided getting kicked from the library five times.

“C’mon, sweetheart, give it to me.” He mumbled, sucking on you, which produced wet noises that set your nerve endings on fire and— give it to him? What did he want you to give— oh.

Somehow your orgasms got more and more intense the better he learnt your body from the inside-out, this time your eyes rolled back and you pulled his hair sharply, which only made him moan as he licked you clean and drank you like a fucking glass of water.

“So fucking good, baby.” The praise sent a shiver up your spine, as did how his own eyes briefly rolled to the back of his head at how good you tasted, still suckling at your clit and pulling soft whimpers from your throat. His eyes flicked to the clock, and your hand shot out to grab the towel you already had as preparation—

His hand gently guided yours back into his hair. “Not so fast, baby, we have fifteen minutes.”

Your eyes widened slightly, unable to stop the small sounds from spilling past your lips as his own lavished attention on you. “What?”

“Lay back, c’mon, cause shit, I ain’t done.” His grin was devilish, and you knew right then that you weren’t gonna walk right after this, not when Dick Grayson’s eating your pussy like he’s on death row.

This wasn’t good.

This didn’t even have a label.

[roturo]

CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: sex pollen, old lovers meet again.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering.

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, sex pollen, mating press, breeding kink, marking, fingering & oral (f receiving), mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, mention of weight loss (but it's never specified how much or the weight of the reader exactly, neither a body type), hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

A/N: I'm really proud of this one, might even do pt2 if it gets support. -Words: 3.4k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

¨And you know what I hate most of all that shit he put me through?, He-¨

¨Can you please stop talking about Dick Y/N? It's been MONTHS, damn it! almost a year! You're driving me nuts! I'm not even Dick's ex, or friend and I already hate him as much as you do. So let's move on.¨

¨You don't understand, I was a good girlfriend! Shit! I even became a hero for him! Now look where we are.¨

Harley laughs at your remark of how the tables have turned.

Both of you were sitting at the top of a building eating some ice-cream, which Harley insisted on steal from a random kid on the street, after robbing some random store she liked a collar from, you were now looking at how police officers where trying to look for a culpable of this crime.

It's been 11 months and 5 days since Dick broke up with you. You couldn't AND still don't understand why he did it, both of you were fine one day and the next one he decided, 'oh how could I destroy the woman of my dreams heart?, I know how! What if I tell her I don't need her anymore in my life and she's useless! then some months later fuck some fire princess and act like i'm a new person with this new suit and name! oh! also, re-do the titans! when my ex helped me do the og ones, helped when the fell apart but she's useless anyways!'

To say you weren't deep down for him, would be a lie. You don't know how he could keep laughing everyday knowing how his little trauma ass dumped you like trash. Well, if you're being honest he doesn't have a small ass, but that doesn't matter.

¨Aw, I want more ice-cream¨ Coming back to earth after some deep thoughts, Harley grabbed you by the wrists in order to change up and start looking some restaurant for dinner.

After changing clothes and Harley talking about how obsessed she´s with the Joker, you couldn't quite blame her, both of you were finally walking on the street, laughing at some random inside joke both of you had.

¨Huh.¨ Your phone started ringing and you could swear if it wasn't cold enough to freeze you up, the call was. ¨Who is it?¨ Harley asked, sneaking through your shoulder.

¨OH! Donna?, the cute girl you talked about?¨

¨Shhh, let me attend this call... Hello? Donna?¨

¨Y/N, um- hello! How are you? It's been what? one year since we don't talk?¨ ¨I'm... fine. How about you?¨

You were quite confused for this call, on the outside you're calm, but inside, you're freaking out.

¨I'm good, it's nice to hear you're doing fine!¨ ¨Thank you Donna, but I know you just don't call to ask how i'm doing, what's wrong?¨ ¨Oh well, you quite know me well Y/N, i'm sorry it seemed that way, but you're like the only person I know who could help us with some medical issues, you know? So I wanted to ask you if you could come and help us to deal with Conner, and maybe stay some days...? i'll explain you who he is and all of that later.¨ ¨Donna, you know i'm not longer on the me-¨

Harley pinched you in the arm, trying to talk but you were faster. ¨Ow Harley! Stop it!¨ You told your best friend in a whisper so Donna couldn't hear the both of you, also covering the microphone of your phone, for... extra precautions.

¨You don't understand! This is an awesome opportunity! You're going undercover in the titans tower! Imagine how crazy Jack (Jocker) would be! Say yes!¨

Thinking it for a few seconds, she was right, you could get some important information from them, it was indeed, an awesome plan.

¨Who knows, you might also see bird-boy again!¨ She said raising her eyebrows in a teasing way making you roll your eyes.

¨Y/N? Are you still there?¨

¨Yes, when do you need me to be there?¨

¨Erm... now if it's possible¨

You were now unpacking your suitcase, Donna told you to pack for at least a month, isn't that incredible?

You haven't come across any of the other titans, beside, Donna, Dawn, Gar, Rachel, Jason and Rose... Quite interesting team.

You didn't introduced well to the kids since you were in a hurry to enter your temporary room and not ran into someone else...

While you were unpacking your old tools Wayne gave you while you were their medical support 'hero' maybe also because you were a med student, you still helped with fights, bruises and hits.

You found the 'special' bandages you had for Dick, since the 'normal ones weren't soft enough for his bruises' a small smile appeared on your face at those old memories.

Now unpacking your clothes, you found three special lingerie underwear with a note from Harley:

'Just in case you have some fun ;)

xx Harley~'

The note made you roll your eyes but you couldn't deny it brighten your mood, throwing away the not and putting aside the 'Harley present', you continued unpacking your clothes, you brought in a separate case for your suit, just in case.

¨Y/N! Can you come here?¨

¨Coming!¨ maybe you could order the clothes other time.

When you entered the living room, the kids were no longer there, except Jason.

They started explaining you what happened between Deathstroke and what they know about Conner, you were paying attention to know what you're dealing with, you haven't even realize Dick came in sight until Dawn mentioned it.

But Dick didn't came alone, he was next fire princess which you couldn't care less to investigate her name when you found out about Dick meeting her.

¨Oh Dick! We brought Y/N so she could help us with Conner, since we don't have anyone else who knows about this weird medical stuff.¨ They know what happened between you two, and they still decided to ask for your help knowing he's going to be here.

You stood up from the sofa, eyes locking with his, you couldn't longer see the coldness in his eyes, but there wasn't warm either, you couldn't quite decipher what he's feeling.

¨Kory¨ She gave you her hand at which you responded with your name and doing the same. You locked eyes with her for a brief moment, a small smirk appeared in your face but disappeared once the greeting finished.

¨Y/N.¨ You locked eyes with him, a tension only the two of you could feel. You were different, much prettier, you lose some weight too, blame it on the break-up depression, but you were shining.

¨Grayson.¨ Hearing you say his last name instead of his name he could feel a small part of him getting shattered inside him, you changed.

After checking on Conner and taking some notes, it was finally night time, you were eating some cereal, knowing more about Gar and Rachel, Kory, Dawn, Donna and Robin were dressed up with their suits.

¨We have some issues to deal tonight with another troublemaker, nothing serious though, just a one night problem.¨ Dick announced while getting ready to go out.

¨Y/N, you should come! Maybe warm out a little like the old times." Dawn invited you, how nice of her, only if she knew you were also a troublemaker.

¨No thank you, i'm only here for medical support.¨ You gave her a small smile and said your goonights.

Some knocking in your door woke you up, it only passes one hour since you went asleep and they're already annoying you, first day!

¨Y/N? Are you awake?¨ You heard Dawn saying though the door.

¨Mmh¨ You replied.

¨We need you, it's Dick.¨

Even more annoying.

You walked next Dawn through the halls until you finally came into Dick´s room. Inside they were Donna and Kory, clearly concerned about his well being.

His behavior seemed, weird, there wasn’t any bruises or cuts, not even blood. He was just twisting in pain on his bed. You stepped closer to him, and got your hand on top of his forehead at which he only whined, that scared you, since it sounded more like a moan than a whine. He was hot, sweating and moving a lot.

You had your suspicions what this could be, but you needed to confirm it, this can't be real.

¨Can you please... tell me with which villain you fought with?¨

¨Ivy¨ Donna said.

Shit.

¨I need to make a call¨ you quickly said running out of the room.

¨Surprise, surprise!¨ Harley said in her taunting tone. ¨Oh my god Harley, I can't believe you.¨ ¨Well, you know a girl needs to help her best friend, so... I called another friend and voilà!¨ ¨What am I supposed to do? I don't have the fucking cure for sex pollen Harley! I owe you one, can't believe Ivy did this for me.¨ ¨You just said it, sex. C´mon Y/N!, it's your moment to play with him! He had you like a sad girl, why don't turn her into a mad girl? Make him cry for you. Break his heart like he did with you.

You ended the call, and just in time, Kory came. ¨Y/N, we need you Dick keeps talking about you and rambling about some stupid things.¨ You could sense a strange behavior from her, like if she just discovered something big.

Watching Dick twisting in pain and saying your name in just some black briefs felt good. You can't lie to yourself Harley was right.

¨It's sex pollen¨ You admitted.

¨And what's the cure? Do you have it? That's why you made the call?¨ Donna asked.

¨No, the only cure for it it's well... sex. The pollen might last for at-least 3 days or even a week, symptoms are well... extremely high sex-drive, dehydration, high temperatures, and... I think that's all.¨

Donna chuckled at what happened to Dick, ¨Let's go girls, let's leave this to Kory.¨ Dawn just laughed at a very shocked and blushed Kory, ¨Don't be like that Donna, Kory and Dick haven't confirmed anything yet.¨ You felt your jaw clenching, but decided to act calm, and when all of you were almost leaving, you were stopped.

¨No. I want her.¨ Dick said, pointing towards you. All of you stayed quiet at the sudden confession. You were shocked to say at least, blood rushing to your cheeks, you were about to leave that damn room until you remembered what Harley said.

Cry for me.

Donna grabbed your shoulder, looking at you. ¨You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable.¨

¨No. It's okay, i'm in.¨

After mentally preparing yourself, bringing some water bottles into the room, they left you alone with him.

You sat next to him on his bed, memories came back flying around the both of you.

¨Look, I know that-¨ He completely cut you off when he started kissing you, making you lay down on the bed, you left a small moan when he broke the kiss for a moment.¨Oh my god, you don't know how much I wanted to kiss you again.¨

Did he missed you? Every question that came to your mind was easily erased when he started kissing and sucking your neck while unbuckling your jeans and taking them down with your underwear, he pulled apart to admire the bruises he left, he grabbed your panties and threw them to his nightstand.

He started kissing your thighs, making small pauses on each to make sure he's marking you as his again. Every time he went higher until he gave a small peck on your clit. ¨I can't wait to taste you sweetheart.¨ There it is... the nickname.

He got your legs over his shoulders and gave a testing long lick on your pussy, teasing your hole. At which he started sucking your clit once he heard the high pitched moan you did when he teases your hole.

His started spelling his name with his tongue on your pussy at which it only made you hornier, suddenly he inserted his index finger inside you. Dick sped up, fingers now flicking in and out of you at light speed, nose pressed into your clit, and before you knew it you were cumming, shuddering on his mouth, crying out his name.  Quickly he took all the remaining clothes from you and him, now both of you completely naked for each-other.

He was rock hard. No, scratch that, his cock looked like it was made of fucking ruby. Red and painful and already half-soaked with pre-cum.

He pressed your legs impossibly closer to your torso, moving down to meet your eyes, until you were folded in half beneath him, legs on his shoulders, putting you into a—

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was going to be a long night.

He fell on his forearms, and you wondered how much more you could take- He laced his fingers on top of your head, thumbs on your forehead, holding you still. He mumbled out another gonna make you feel s’ good before pounding you in earnest, practically bouncing you both on his mattress. His balls smacked against your ass, and the feeling was so damn satisfying that he just had to go harder. You would sport matching bruises tomorrow, his hips on your ass. You pushed out moans in time with his unforgiving pace, a metronome playing the beat to which his sanity danced away from him. 

“More?” He sounded fucking pathetic, like he was asking himself that, his voice octaves higher than it usually was, but he didn’t care. “More, you little slut? That what you want? You want more?”

“I’ll give you more,” he babbled, “More, baby, give you more give you everythin’ gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for weeks.”

He’s not too worried about hurting you—you’re already so wet—more that he’s afraid he’ll cum the second he starts moving again. Out of his previous partners, he doesn’t think any of them have felt this good around him.

“Please-” a strand of incomprehensible begs and pleads leaves his mouth when he starts thrusting into you again.

¨Shit- how are you even tighter huh? You've been keeping this tight pussy just for me?¨ He's a whiny mess, small kisses every time he cans, praises here and there.

“Mmm yes please yes please yesyesyesss—” was all you could manage. He laughed at you, breathless, and you wondered how he could keep up this pace and still rattle off incredibly filthy little comments, looking right in your eyes. 

“You’d like that? Yeah? Gon’ look so pretty, little baby, so pretty full of my child, yeah? All round and glowing and heavy with me. All of ’em will look at you and see me, all me, see that I did that. You want that? You want that you want that—”

He leans forward to coo praise into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the stairwell. Sometime during this his teeth find the soft muscle of your neck, leaving a crescent shape mark that’ll certainly bruise in the morning.

You're pretty sure everyone on this tower have heard the both of you fucking like rabbits by now, but knowing this was going to follow him his whole life, with the memories of him fucking you every way possible just so you could leave him, it's all you need to don't care about that.

The first time he cums, he doesn’t even realize he has. He shudders. It felt good—a bit too good—but nothing out of the ordinary. It makes him do a double take. His cock doesn’t even go soft. Drips of cum run down your thighs, pooling on the bed-sheets beneath you.

His thumb traces circles around your clit, moving in erratic, uneven motions. Dick leans back down for another kiss. You can taste yourself on him, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him to your chest. The two of you can only fuck and cum until you’re too exhausted to continue. You’ve never felt so full. The thought of using protection crossed your mind once—and only for a moment—the pollen leaving you too desperate to care.

Second day and he wouldn't give you a break to nap for a minute.

His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body and hands gripping your shoulders. “Mmm fuck baby,” Dick muttered into your mouth, your moans coming out of you almost breathless. “Yeah, yeahyeahyeah milk me fucking milk my cock gonna cum in you fuck a baby, my baby into you and you’re gonna fucking take it take it nnngh —”

He buried his face into your neck, teeth latching on to skin, biting down to draw blood, a choked groan as he came, really came, his balls squeezing painfully, a deep ache in his gut, indescribable tingles all along his cock, his spine, down to the soles of his feet.

Third day, and you started getting him where you wanted it.

“Sensitive,” you hissed, “Sensitive, Dick, you insatiable—”

“Insatiable is right,” he said to you, eyes wide, still looking like you just told him the Earth was flat. He towered over you, kneeling now, and with horror and a bit of something else you felt how hard he still was. 

¨I missed you so much, the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you.¨

Fourth day he started getting sensitive but that didn't stopped him, and he was a little more languid, strokes slow and smooth, his thighs shaking just a bit as exhaustion started to settle in. His cum was spreading in a pool on the sheets now, and you couldn’t bring yourselves to be even a little disgusted. He loved it. He loved so much how it felt that tears dropped from his eyes every-time he felt that electric shock come to him when he was about to come. He was crying for you.

Last day. Fifth day. Barely even thrusting anymore, just a slow grind of his hips, the friction and the pressure and the raw sensation squeezing out what could have been an orgasm if only both of you were awake enough to feel it.

When you both woke up the next day, he was staring at you, straddling your hair, and that's when you knew it.

¨Good morning sweetheart.¨

You just answered with a small ¨hey¨

¨I never through of seeing you laying next to me again, it felt like home. I'm sorry I did that to you, you don't know how much I regret it, please, give me a second chance.¨

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you grabbed some shirt of his, long enough to cover yourself and went back to your room, stumbling and shaking someway you made it. You changed yourself, taking a minute to observe how he marked you, it was time.

You went back to his room, already changed, you gave him a smile and sat on the bed with him, with no emotion behind your eyes, it was your time.

¨You were ready to leave me for her.¨ Confusion, first stage he made you go through.

¨I was doing fine, really, but then you walked again into my life again and fucked me up.¨ Sadness and lies. Second stage.

¨You think this will make me stay?¨ You signaled the both of you. ¨You think with just some stupid sex to heal you is enough of an apology?¨ A laugh escaped your mouth. ¨You thought this was real?¨

¨You know for a fucking fact this wasn't supposed to happen.¨ You got your hand on top of his, faking a caring smile looking at him.

¨When friends of yours make jokes about how you always leave them, you think it's funny, but it's not. That hurts a lot, actually.¨

You got up from the bed and stepped closer to the door, you paused for a second and turned around to see a hurt Dick naked on the bed with just some blanket covering him.

¨And Dick... Of course I still love you, if it wasn't for me, I would go crying and throwing myself into your arms again.¨

¨You still can.¨ He tried.

¨No.¨ You chuckled. ¨I won't let myself get hurt again. Our love isn't worth the fight. Goodbye Dick Grayson.¨

[rizzcom]

trapped

pairing: robin (dick grayson) x catwoman apprentice! reader

tags: mdni, fem reader, reader is a year older than dick, enemies to lovers¿?, dick calls reader “cat”, reader calls dick “birdie”/“baby”, very hormonal teens, dry humping, enclosed space, forced proximity, making out, groping, sub dick, thigh riding, praise, handjob, p in v, cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is more “experienced” (lmk if i missed any)

You had never known stability. Not in the traditional sense.

Your earliest memories were of cold nights and empty pockets, of learning that in Gotham, you had to take what you wanted because no one was going to give it to you. And maybe that was why Selina Kyle took you in—because she saw something of herself in you.

From the moment Selina took you under her wing, normalcy became a foreign concept. She never pretended to be a mother, never showered you in words of affection, but she provided. She gave you food, a place to sleep, and most importantly—a purpose.

Life with her was exhilarating. Nights spent darting across Gotham’s rooftops, breaking into places you had no business being in, taking what you wanted simply because you could. Selina taught you everything—how to move unseen, how to pick locks with delicate precision, how to manipulate, how to charm.

And, of course, how to run.

But no matter how good you were, they were better.

Batman and Robin.

They were always there, always a step behind, always chasing.

Selina handled Batman, slipping through his grasp time and time again, leaving only whispered promises and stolen kisses in her wake.

And you? You were left to deal with Robin.

The first time you saw him, you nearly laughed.

A kid. Shorter than you, all bright colors and attitude, wearing a mask that barely hid the smugness in his expression.

Not like you were a kid yourself, right?

“You’re kidding,” You had said, eyeing the small figure in bright red, green, and yellow. “You’re Robin?”

From the way Selina warned you about Robin, you expected… something else.

Not this short, flamboyant boy in pixie boots and wearing that shit-eating grin.

Robin bristled at your tone, crossing his arms. “Yeah, and?”

“You just seem… smaller than I expected.”

He scoffed. “You’re, like, barely taller than me.”

You hummed, amused. “Still taller.”

It should’ve been easy. You’d spent months training under Selina, learning how to evade, how to slip through fingers like water. He was just a kid—a kid in bright colors, a cape to slow him down, and all energy and attitude.

But Robin was fast.

And relentless.

No matter how quick you were, how well you knew Gotham’s rooftops, he kept up. Every twist, every jump, he was right there, like a shadow that refused to be shaken.

He grinned through it all, like the chase itself was the fun part.

By the time you finally lost him—ducking into a hidden alley, heart pounding, breath sharp—you realized something.

You weren’t annoyed.

You were excited.

For the first time in your life, you were looking forward to something.

And it became a game.

Every time Selina clashed with Batman, you and Robin danced around each other, locked in your own little battle. He was all quips and acrobatics, relentless determination wrapped in bright colors, and you matched him move for move.

And then, somewhere along the way, over the years, the game changed.

It was subtle at first.

The way his hands lingered just a second too long when he grabbed you. The way his breath hitched when you leaned in, voice low and teasing.

And then, one night, after a particularly close chase—

“You’re slowing down, Birdie,” you teased, perched on the edge of a rooftop, looking down at him. “Getting tired of chasing me?”

Robin huffed, rolling his shoulders, the movement fluid yet tense, like he was shaking off exhaustion—or frustration. He was older now, no longer the scrawny kid you used to outrun on Gotham’s rooftops. He’d grown into himself, his frame broader, his stance more grounded, more sure. The suit, once bright and almost ridiculous in its vibrancy, seemed different now. The red looked richer, darker under the moonlight, the shadows clinging to the fabric, emphasizing the sharp angles of his body. His cape, now black and lined with gold, draped over his shoulders with an ease that made him seem more intimidating, more like a real threat than just Batman’s sidekick.

And then there was his voice—lower, rougher, with an edge that hadn’t been there before.

An edge that reminded you of Gotham’s Dark Knight.

Gone was the high-energy bravado of a kid playing hero. Now, when he spoke, there was weight behind his words, something firm, something undeniably commanding. It sent a strange thrill through you, though you’d never admit it.

“Who says I’m not letting you get away on purpose?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Awfully generous of you.”

“Maybe I like the chase,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze sharp. “Maybe I like you.”

The air shifted.

Your smirk didn’t waver, but your heart did.

For the first time, you didn’t have a quip ready.

And then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passed.

He grinned again, all mischief and ease, like he hadn’t just thrown a wrench into your entire world.

You rolled your eyes, shoving down whatever had just coiled in your chest. “You really should work on your flirting, Robin.”

“Is that a challenge?”

You leapt off the rooftop, and this time—

You let him catch you.

You were nineteen now.

It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful to Selina—she’d taken you in when you had nothing, taught you everything you knew. But you weren’t a stray kitten anymore. You had your own ambitions, your own scores to settle, and it was time you made a name for yourself.

Tonight was supposed to be the first step.

A simple break-in. A massive corporation with deep pockets and even deeper corruption. You weren’t just stealing from them—you were stealing leverage. Blackmail, blueprints, the kind of information that could buy you power.

Everything had been going smoothly—until he showed up.

“Still breaking into places you don’t belong?”

You didn’t need to turn around. You knew that voice—low, smug, and just the right amount of irritating.

Robin.

Or, as you liked to think of him now, Gotham’s Most Persistent Pain in the Ass.

You smirked, still focused on the files flickering across the computer screen. “You know me, Birdie. I just love a good challenge.”

“You’re getting sloppy,” he countered, stepping closer.

You caught his reflection in the screen—older now, taller. The bright colors of his suit had been traded for something darker, more tactical. His stance was solid, muscles tense, ready to spring.

You sighed dramatically. “You gonna fight me, or just lecture me to death?”

“I was thinking both.”

And then he moved.

You barely had time to react before he was on you, reaching for the drive in your hand. You twisted away, knocking over a chair in your retreat, and bolted.

The chase was on.

You darted through the office space, leaping over desks, twisting through narrow hallways, all while Robin stayed infuriatingly close. You could feel him at your heels, relentless as ever, and for the first time in a long time, you wondered if you might not shake him this time.

Then you saw it—a maintenance door left slightly ajar.

You shoved through, sprinting inside just as Robin reached for you. His fingers just barely caught the back of your jacket, and in his effort to stop you, he yanked.

Hard.

The force sent you both crashing through the doorway, tumbling down a short flight of metal stairs in a mess of limbs and curses.

You landed first, sprawled on your back against the cold floor. Robin landed on top of you, knocking the breath from your lungs as the door behind you slammed shut with an ominous clunk.

A silence settled.

“…Did you just tackle me down a flight of stairs?”

Dick groaned, pushing himself up slightly, bracing himself on his arms—his body still pressed against yours. His breath was warm against your cheek when he muttered, “You fell.”

“You pulled me.”

“You ran.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting slightly beneath him—only to realise just how close you were.

The space around you was tiny.

Metal shelves lined the walls, stacked with old equipment and cleaning supplies. The air was thick with dust and stale air, and the dim, flickering light overhead barely illuminated anything.

You and Dick were practically pressed against each other.

And worse?

The door wasn’t budging.

It’s like it automatically locked you both in the moment you entered.

Dick must’ve come to the same conclusion because he exhaled sharply, muttering a quiet, “Fantastic.”

You turned to face him, looking him up and down. “Aww. Trapped in a tiny, enclosed space with me? Try not to look so excited, Birdie.”

Dick clenched his jaw, shifting his weight, and—

Oh.

That was… interesting.

For the first time since you met him, he was the one who faltered. His breath hitched, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against your waist.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, voice dropping to a whisper. “Never been this close to a girl before?”

His gaze flickered to your lips before he caught himself, schooling his expression into something unimpressed. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, tilting your head. “That’s why you’re still on top of me?”

Dick tensed. Then, with a sharp inhale, he pushed off you, moving to sit up—only to immediately hit his head against one of the low shelves with a dull thud.

You laughed.

Dick glared, rubbing the spot where he’d smacked his skull. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, of course.”

You pushed yourself up, stretching out your legs as much as the tiny space allowed. Dick was sitting against the opposite wall now, knees bent, arms resting over them. The space was too small for either of you to fully move without touching the other.

A slow smirk curled at your lips as an idea took root.

You shifted, closing the distance, swinging a leg over his to straddle his lap.

His whole body stiffened.

“W—What are you doing?” he asked, voice suddenly very unsteady.

“Getting comfortable,” you murmured, leaning in just slightly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

His breath shuddered.

This was new.

You’d spent years teasing him, pushing his buttons, testing his patience. But this—the way he was looking at you now, wide-eyed, breathless, trapped beneath you with nowhere to go—this was different.

You could feel the way his heart was racing.

You dragged your fingers down his chest, slow and deliberate. “Still think I’m getting sloppy?”

Dick exhaled shakily. “I—”

He stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his sides when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his chest as you leaned closer.

Dick wasn’t an idiot.

He knew you were doing this on purpose.

You can feel Dick’s eyes, despite it being hidden behind that damn domino mask of his. It was all over your face, and for a moment—you saw the way his breath hitch when his eyes landed on your lips.

That only fueled you more.

And without a second thought, you kissed him.

The second your lips met his, the tension snapped.

Dick made a quiet, desperate noise against your lips, his hands grasping at your waist, unsure whether to pull you closer or push you away. You made the decision for him.

His hesitation lasted seconds before he gave in, melting beneath you, responding with an eagerness that sent a thrill down your spine.

You nipped at his lower lip, earning a shuddered gasp, and God, you’d never seen him like this—needy, breathless, completely at your mercy.

“Is this what you wanted?” you murmured against his lips, your hips shifting just enough to make him choke on a breath.

His fingers dug into your sides as he struggles to maintain control.

He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “Fuck—Cat… no—” Despite the words, his body betrays his desire, hips twitching up to meet yours, his hands sliding up your back.

Dick kisses you again, soft and deep, pouring his desperation and desire into the embrace. And you didn’t waste a second to kiss him back, your hips slowly moving against his thigh, seeking out any sort of relief while also trying to provide Dick some.

And Dick—

He whimpered, soft and pathetic, adorable coming from him.

Your hand moved to cup his face, your thumb stroking along the soft skin of his cheek, leaning down to deepen the kiss.

"You're so pretty." You murmur softly, pulling away slightly to stare at him, your hand making its way to remove his mask. But Dick’s hand immediately caught your wrist, stopping you.

“N-no, wait, mask stays on, Cat. We can’t—“ He didn’t finish the sentence as you rolled your hips against him instead, body jerking in his hold. Somehow the gravity of the situation just stills in his head for a moment. “Shit, shit, wait—we should talk about this, right?”

“What’s there to talk about?” You mutter out, as you press kisses along his jawline. “You want this—I want this. We both want this, don’t you agree?”

You could feel his breath, ragged and shallow.

There was no escaping the sheer intensity of it. Every inch of his body was pushing into yours, and his movements—though tentative—were driven by an undeniable need. His hips, for all his effort to hold back, shifted instinctively, and for a brief second, you felt the unmistakable press of his body against yours. And in one swift motion, you removed his domino mask, tossing it aside as your eyes met his baby blue ones.

He looked at you with wide eyes, clearly torn between wanting to pull away and wanting more. You could practically hear his heart racing in the thick silence.

He swallowed hard. “I—” His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw it. The boyish cockiness was gone, replaced by something more raw, more real. He was trembling slightly, unsure but wanting, and it made something stir in your chest.

You slid your hands up his chest, fingers brushing over the outline of his suit, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the fabric. His reaction was immediate—he let out a quiet, shaky breath as his hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer.

He kissed you again, this time with more force, his lips hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands roamed, brushing against your sides, your waist, his fingers lightly pressing against the curves of your body. You could feel him struggling to stay in control, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate, but still so careful, as if he was afraid of pushing you too far.

“Damn it,” he muttered between kisses, his voice tight with frustration. “I hate that you’re making me lose control.”

You smiled against his lips, pulling back just slightly. “You don’t have to hate it, you know.”

His eyes met yours again, and there it was—vulnerable, unsure, but undeniably drawn to you. “I—” He paused, exhaling slowly, as if gathering his thoughts. “I want this. But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to know everything,” you said softly, running your hand down his chest once more. “Just go with it.”

Dick’s body reacted immediately, the way his hands moved to your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. You could feel the desperation in him, the way his movements grew more fervent, more insistent, as if the moment had finally overtaken him.

There was something so intoxicating about it—the way he kissed you with such intensity, like every second he spent with you in this confined space only heightened the tension between you. You could feel his body pressing against yours, his every movement a silent invitation, a challenge. His hands, once hesitant, were now roaming freely, touching you with a fervor that made your heart race.

Dick reaches up with one hand to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple through the fabric of your suit, and you let out a guttural moan.

“That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.” You mumbled, your hand grabbing a fistful of his hair, tilting his head up to meet his lips once more.

And don’t hold back he did. His hand fondled with your clothed breast, while the other made its way to the zip on your back.

Dick's gaze lazily makes its way up your form, greedily taking in every inch. He gently bites down on his lower lip, face starting to look flushed as he lets his guard down. Bending forward, you close the distance between your mouths, nipping gently and taking that plush lower lip for yourself. He gasps, but gives as good as he gets, tonguing into you with a little groan. When he tries to take control and deepen the kiss, you smirk and pull back, drawing a pouty little sigh from him.

"Ah ah, birdie—let me do all the work, yeah?" You scold him. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder, his warm breath mixing with yours.

“I’m sorry, I just—” You placed a finger on his lips, clicking your tongue.

“Don’t apologise.” You murmur, lifting his head up as you start to press kisses all over his jawline once again, trailing down to his neck. Dick whines softly at the sudden shift, mewling your name.

He grinds against your clothed cunt, the fabric of your suits making it easier to hurriedly slide against each other.

Dick wishes he could feel how tightly you’d wrap around him instead of this but he needed release now, and this was the quickest way to get it.

But you notice his neediness.

You noticed how much he was aching to be inside of you.

He was bucking into you desperately, moving his hands to grope your tits and roll your nipples between his fingers.

“There you go… Good boy, keep going.” You whisper, your hand trailing down to the hem of his pants, tugging at it.

Dick inhales sharply as he feels your fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants, his hips twitching in anticipation. He's breathing heavily now, chest rising and falling rapidly against yours.

“Ah fuck…” His voice is strained, torn between wanting to give in completely and the lingering hesitation. “I want to... but we should... shit.. but we should be careful.”

You tilt your head at that, your hand resting against his growing arousal, rubbing against it painstakingly slow. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Fuck.

Despite his words, his hips lift slightly, seeking more of your touch. “Please, just... let me...” He swallows hard, hands gripping your waist as he looks up at you with hazy, desire-filled eyes. “...let me make you feel good.” His fingers slip beneath the fabric of your bottom, brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, leaving tingles in their wake.

“Tell me what you want. I'll do anything... anything you want.” His voice is a needy whisper, one you knew you couldn’t resist now.

Your eyes darken with lust as you take in the sight of Dick beneath you, seeing the desperation etched into every line of his body. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his heart is pounding against your chest, the tremble of his fingers as they dig into the fabric of your suit.

Slowly, teasingly, you slide your hand lower, palming the growing bulge in his pants. You can feel him, hot and hard, straining against the confines of his costume.

Dick lets out a strangled groan, his hips bucking up into your touch, seeking more friction.

Boldly, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and slowly, torturously, begin to tug them down. The fabric resistive at first, but with a final, sharp tug, you yank them down, exposing his bare skin to the cool air of the room.

Dick's cock springs free, long and cute and perfect, the tip already glistening with precum. It twitches as the air hits it, and you can't help but lick your lips at the sight. You wrap your hand around his shaft, feeling the weight of him, the heat, the way he pulses in your grip.

Dick is panting now, his eyes glazed over with lust as he stares up at you, taking in the sight of you looming over him, his cock in your hand. He looks wrecked, destroyed, completely at your mercy, and it sends a thrill through you, a rush of power and desire.

You stroke him slowly, teasingly, watching as he writhes beneath you, his body arching into your touch. You can feel him leaking more, his cock throbbing in your hand, and you know he won't last much longer at this rate.

So you lean down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you murmur in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “That's it, baby... just like that. You feel so good... I can't wait to taste you.”

You take your time, stroking him with long, deliberate movements from base to tip. Your hand is soft and warm, encircling his thick shaft completely as you work him over. You can feel every ridge, every vein, the way he throbs and twitches in your grip.

Dick's breath comes in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he struggles to maintain control. His eyes flutter shut, brows furrowed in concentration, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Soft, breathless moans spill from his lips with every upward stroke, the sounds growing louder, more desperate as you continue your ministrations.

As you pick up the pace, pumping him faster, his reactions become more intense. His hips start to lift, meeting your strokes, fucking up into your fist with a desperate hunger. Quiet, strangled moans spill from his lips, each one making your own desire peak in response.

“Fuck... Dickie, you like that, huh? Like how you’re fucking my fist, don’t you? Such a good boy..”

You watch, as Dick’s face contorts with pleasure. His brows furrow, teeth sinking into his lower lip hard enough to leave indentations. The tendons in his neck strain as his head tips back, throat bared to you in a silent offering. His eyes, when they meet yours, are hazy and dark, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils.

The wet sounds of your hand moving over his cock fill the small space, obscenely loud in the charged silence. You can feel him leaking more, his precum making your strokes slicker, easier. His cock is red and angry, the head an almost painful shade of pink, the slit weeping with his desire.

You lean down, your breasts brushing against his heaving chest as you bring your mouth to his ear. Your lips brush the shell of it as you whisper, your voice low and heavy with lust. “That's it, baby... doesn't it feel good? Doesn't it feel amazing to have my hand wrapped around this big and needy cock of yours? I can feel how much you want it... how much you want me...”

Dick shudders, his body wracking with sensation as he listens to your words. A broken whimper escapes him, his voice hoarse and wrecked as he manages to gasp out, “F-Fuck… please, (Name)… I need you so bad…”

You never knew how much you needed him begging for you until now. And god did it feel good.

You can feel his desperation, his absolute need for release. And you're going to make him work for it. Slowly, torturously, you increase the speed of your strokes, squeezing just a bit tighter, twisting your wrist on the upstroke.

Dick is panting now, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. His face is flushed, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched tight as he tries to hold back. But you can see the way his body is tensing, the way his cock is throbbing harder, leaking more steadily against your palm.

“(Name)... I can't... I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna...” His words dissolve into a guttural moan, his entire body going rigid.

You feel his cock throb and twitch in your grip, and then with a hoarse cry of your name, he's coming undone. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupt from his cock, painting your hand and his stomach with his release. His body shudders and jerks through each wave of pleasure, his hand gripping yours like a vice.

You work him through it, stroking him through each aftershock, feeling his cock pulse and twitch against your fingers until finally, he collapses back against the wall, chest heaving, skin sheened with sweat. He looks utterly debauched, hair disheveled, lips kiss-swollen and parted around shallow breaths. His eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, struggling to regain some semblance of coherence.

Slowly, you bring your hand up to your mouth, making a show of licking his spend from your fingers, my tongue swirling around each digit, ensuring he can see every last bit of him disappearing between your lips. Dick watches closely, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, a fresh wave of desire washing over his eyes as he takes in the sight of you licking his cum off your hand.

“Mmm, you taste good, Dick,” You purr, wrapping your hand around his re-hardening shaft, giving him a slow, teasing stroke. “I could get used to this view—you, all wrecked and wanting, cock throbbing and ready to go again already.” You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “You really are an overachiever, aren't you?”

You can feel him shiver against you, his hips lifting slightly into your touch. You grin, pulling back to look at him with a wicked gleam in your eyes. Then, slowly, you reach back and unzip the rest of your suit, peeling the tight material down your body until you’re just left in your panties.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband and tug them down, baring your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze.

Dick's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue licking his lips as he stares at your glistening folds. You grab his hand, guiding it between your legs, pressing his fingers against your aching clit. He inhales sharply at the contact, feeling the slick heat of your arousal coating his digits.

“Fuck, (Name).…you're so wet.” He breathes, his fingers starting to move on their own, stroking along your slit, feeling how ready you are for him. “Is this...is this because of me?”

You moan softly, rolling your hips against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. “Yes, birdie...it's all for you,” You gasp, your head falling back as his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot. “I'm so fucking turned on right now, and it's all because of you.”

You reach down and grab his wrist, guiding his hand to move faster, to press harder against your clit. You grind against him, coating his fingers in your slick arousal, your body trembling with need. You can feel how hard he is, his cock throbbing and leaking against your ass, and you know he wants you just as badly.

Without warning, you shift your hips, positioning yourself so that the head of his cock brushes against your entrance. You feel him gasp, his fingers pausing in their movements as he realizes what you’re about to do. You look down at him, your expression one of pure, unadulterated lust, and then you sink down.

You take him in inch by delicious inch, your walls stretching around his thick length, wrapping him in your tight, wet heat. You both moan at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces, made to be joined like this. You don't stop until you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside your clit, pressing against his pelvis.

“Oh fuck, Dick...” You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual grind. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

Your words seem to spur him on, and he starts to thrust up to meet you, his hips lifting off the ground to drive his cock deeper into your needy cunt. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and cries of pleasure echoing off the metal walls. You can feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, and you know he won't last much longer.

“Come on, baby,” You pant, your voice high and breathless as you ride him harder, faster, chasing your own release. “Come inside me. I want to feel you come inside me, Dick. Please...please come for me.”

With a final, harsh thrust, you grind down against Dick. His eyes widen as he feels your walls clench around him, your words pushing him over the edge.

He pistons his hips up harder, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each punishing thrust. He leans in, burying his face between your breasts, his mask brushing against your skin as he suckles and nips at the soft mounds, leaving marks of possession in his wake.

“Fuck, (Name)...you feel too good,” he pants against your skin, his voice a low, guttural rasp. “So good...”

His words dissolve into a strangled moan as his thrusts become erratic, losing their rhythm as he teeters on the brink of climax. He's so close, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside your clenching walls, your arousal dripping down his shaft with each thrust.

“Ngh— fuck..” he hisses out, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he holds you down, making sure you take every last drop of his seed. You can feel the hot, thick ropes of his release painting your insides, dripping down onto his lap and the floor below, filling you up just as you'd begged him to do.

You're both panting hard, chests heaving as you come down from your highs. You slump against his chest, completely spent, your body still twitching with the aftershocks. Dick's arms wrap around you, holding you close, his face buried in your hair as he tries to catch his breath.

You can't help but smile, cupping his face in your hands and pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. You pour all of your satisfaction, all of your desire, all of your growing feelings for him into that kiss. When you finally pull away, you're both smiling, both looking at each other like you can't quite believe this is real.

But then, Dick's eyes widen in realization as the final pulses of his release subside, his softening cock still buried deep inside your fluttering heat. A look of panic flashes across his face beneath the mask as the gravity of what just happened sinks in.

“I...fuck, I'm so sorry,” he starts, voice shaking with remorse. “I didn't mean to... shit, I shouldn't have...”

But you silence him with a searing kiss, your lips crashing against his in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of apologies. You pour every ounce of passion and hunger into the kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth, tangling with his own. For a moment, Dick is stunned, his body stilling beneath you as he allows you to plunder his mouth.

When you finally pull back, your chests heaving, you fix him with a stern look. “Didn't I tell you not to apologise?” you demand, voice low and firm. “I know exactly what I wanted, and I wanted this. I wanted to feel you come inside me, Dick.”

Dick swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “But I didn't use a condom,” he argues weakly. “I could have...we could have...”

You place a finger against his lips, silencing him once more. “Shh. I know the risks. But where’s the fun in not taking them?”

Dick's eyes search yours, a war raging behind those hidden depths. Slowly, hesitantly, he nods, your finger falling away from his lips. “Alright,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “Fine, you win, Cat.”

A slow, shy smile curves your lips as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his jaw, your body still nestled against his, his release cooling inside you. “Good,” you whisper against his skin. “Because I think we're going to be stuck in here for a while,” you say with a grin, glancing around at the small, enclosed space. “You’re going to have to deal with me a little longer, Robin.”

Dick laughs, a real, genuine sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest, his hands sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “You're insatiable,” he accuses, but there's no bite to his words, only a grudging sort of awe.

“But I think I can handle that,” he says, pulling you down for another kiss. “Especially if it means more of this.”

You nipped at his earlobe before soothing it with your tongue.

“You're just now figuring that out?”

—

Safe to say, Batman found you both a few hours later, and him and Selina lectured you both about the need for protection. (At least you were on the pill.)

All Rights Reserved © Works are exclusive to this Tumblr

[slvthrs]

bsf!dick grayson and his wonderful obsession with you

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, fuck buddies type shii, fingering, head, literally everything lol

Thinking about Dick Grayson, your friend of 13 years and your good friend, picking you up home one night after you went clubbing with your friends.

Your clothes sticking to your skin and you makeup all messed up.

Drinks all buzzing in your head and you hadn't even realized you had butt-dialed Dick until you felt his large hands wrapping around your forearm pulling you into his car, practically fuming at you.

The ride home is quite as you keep your hands on your lap, pushing your tiny skirt down and his hands are gripping the steering wheel and his jaw is lock with his mind flickering being pissed and worried about you and then raking his eyes over your body looking at how arousing you look.

It doesn't take long for you to reach his house and he's pissed- yelling at you about how immature you acted, made him all worried, how could you?

And some how in between the yelling, your making out, and in between each scold he's taking a new article of clothing off, stripping you bare and letting his dick do the talking whilst the only thigh you can do is agree.

Now it's normal for you two.

After a particularly stressful day as a vigilante, Dick will have you on your knees deep throating his cock.

He makes a mess of your face, your chin hitting his balls and your eyes are glossy with tears, your hair in knots from his gripping and pulling.

He pulls out when he cums making sure it covers your face and then he scoops some up with his fingers pushing it back between your lips watching you suck it of his fingers like a porn star.

Or the nights after shitty bad date he has you lying in his bed, in his shirt, bunched up over your tits as he pumps his fingers in and out of you drawing out orgasm after orgasm as he's practically abusing your clit and then finally finishing the night off with the head he's perfected so much.

Then other times when your just trying do something together, laying together on the couch watching one of those movies you did as kids but instead the entire night Dick is groping and pawing at your ass and tits.

He won't kiss you but he will bite and suck along your neck, collarbones and tits leaving marks.

You feel so good that you don't stop him, or do anything really you let him do whatever he wants with you cause you feel so wonderful and you don't have to lift a finger.

Sometimes you both toy the line of being friends and something more.

Like on night he spent about a grand on you at Victoria secret and then dragging you home, taking polaroid's of your ass and body, fucking you and spanking you, then taking more pictures.

He ends up picking one that has you laying on your stomach, looking over your shoulder with a seductive look in your eyes as you have have a low stare in teh care with your arms folded under your head.

As the picture continues you can see your topless and it stops right above your knee with the main focus being on your ass with a cerulean blue thong as it red and marked from all of Dick's love.

He ends up putting that in his wallet.

Despite everything your friends. Strictly friends. But he likes to say it's his job as your friend to make sure you feel good.

He lets you sleep around, he doesn't care, despite sometimes feeling a little pissed, he knows he's the only one you come home too.

After those immature boys fail to make you cum your running back into the arms of your best friend because, "Shit baby, you'll always know where home is won't you?"

[killerplink]

TRAINING

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Female Reader

Plot: A training session with Dick gets out of hand. He's sweaty, you're desperate, and the Batcave's gym mat ends up being put to much better use.

Words: way too many because I'm a horny bitch who can't help herself ✋🏻

CW: established relationship, playful banter, teasing, nipple play, (semi??) public sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare, Dick just being Dick lmao

A/N: Kept reading and rereading @neontiger 's version of Jason (link here, because missing out on this hotness should be illegal) like a woman possessed, and naturally, my brain went, "But what if... Dick?" So here we are. Thank you for the delicious inspo, bestie!! 🏃🏻‍♀️

You groan as the blanket is rudely yanked away, making you shiver at the loss of warmth. But before you can even think about grabbing it back, Dick wraps himself around you like a human blanket instead. Bare chest warm against your back, one strong arm hooking around your waist, pulling you snug against him. And then come the kisses. Soft, sweet, pressing along your temple, your cheek, your jaw, everywhere he can reach, like he's trying to butter you up.

"Baby," you mutter, burrowing deeper into the mattress. "Too early."

"Too early?" he echoes, his voice all mock-offense as he shifts. "Sweet girl, it's nine-thirty."

You groan again, wiggling, trying to get away, but he just holds you tighter, one leg slinging over yours, caging you in.

"Mmm, nope," he hums against your skin, lips moving lower, trailing down the side of your throat. "No escape."

"Dick," you whine, blindly reaching for the blanket he stole, but he just laughs, keeping it out of reach.

You regret everything. Mostly, you regret what you said yesterday. Because yesterday, you were feeling good, work stress melting away after finally getting some time off, and you let yourself be tricked into agreeing to this.

To be fair, it's not unusual for you and Dick to train together. Sometimes you'll join him at the gym, sometimes you'll go on a morning run, and sometimes, when he's sparring in the Batcave, you'll do your own exercises off to the side, watching him work up a sweat as you pretend to stretch.

But this week? This week has been long. You're exhausted. And all you want is to relax, to sleep in, to take it easy, to enjoy your weekend without any training, sweating, or being tackled to the mat by your six-foot menace of a boyfriend.

And yet, here you are.

"Too damn early," you whine in protest, rolling onto your stomach and dragging a pillow over your head like it might protect you from your relentless man.

Dick laughs, completely unfazed by your dramatics. Instead of backing off, he steals the pillow too, tossing it to the floor before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his bare chest.

"Nine-thirty is early, huh?" he teases, fingers slipping under your sleep shirt, brushing absent-minded circles against your stomach. "You were all talk yesterday, my love."

"I was delusional yesterday."

He laughs, warm and fond, his lips trailing over your shoulder, lingering before he presses another soft, lazy kiss.

"C'mon," he murmurs, his voice dropping just slightly, smooth as honey. "The Batcave's empty. Begging for us to use it."

You groan, curling up tighter.

"Oh, baby," he coos, teasing, mouth moving up to the shell of your ear. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

You try to squirm away, but he won't let you, just laughs against your skin, one arm keeping you firmly pinned while his lips wander, pressing to that one spot on your neck, the one that always makes you shiver.

"Dick," you whine, smacking at his arm, voice still drowsy. "I just got time off work. I don't wanna train, I wanna relax."

"Hmmm," he pretends to consider it, but you know he's not done yet. He never gives up easy. And sure enough—

"Come with me and I'll take you somewhere nice for dinner tonight."

That makes you pause. Not that it's unusual for Dick to take you on weekly dates even after all this time, but still, you turn your head just enough to glare at him, squinting.

"Somewhere nice nice?"

The corners of his lips twitch, like he knows exactly where your mind went. He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, grinning when you don't pull away.

"Promise," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You think about it for a second, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his bicep. You've been dying to try that one new restaurant—the one with the ridiculous waiting list that stretches out for months—but unless you get insanely lucky, there's no way you're getting in anytime soon.

Your eyes narrow slightly. "Okay. But only if you get us into that new restaurant I want."

His grin turns downright smug. "Consider it done."

But you squint at him, already suspicious. "...you're making Bruce pull strings, aren't you?"

He laughs, tipping your chin up and kissing you, soft and sweet, his breath warm against your lips. "Bet. It's the least he can do sometimes."

And, well... you just know you're gonna eat good tonight.

You lie there for a few more minutes, basking in the warmth of the bed, but you know if you don't get up soon, Dick's gonna manhandle you out of it himself. So with a deep, suffering sigh, you finally drag yourself upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle to the bathroom.

The bright light makes you grimace—ugh, too early. But you push through, reaching for your toothbrush, going through the motions as you blink groggily at your reflection.

Next comes skincare, your hands moving on autopilot. A splash of water, a gentle cleanser, a bit of moisturizer. Then, concealer, just enough to hide how tired you look, and your brows, brushing them into place because, yeah, you might be about to get your ass handed to you in the Batcave, but that's no excuse to look messy. Except... your hair.

You groan, tilting your head, staring at it in frustration.

You washed it last night, and because you were too lazy to dry it properly, now it's sticking out in, like, twenty different directions—half of it flattened weirdly, the other half frizzy as hell.

You glare at it, fingers raking through the strands, debating whether to just throw it up in a ponytail and hope for the best. But no. No, you can do better. Braids. Two cute little braids.

You admire yourself for a second, pleased, before you leave the bathroom and head back to the bedroom, only to come to a dead stop. Because Dick?

You part your hair quickly, fingers working on autopilot as you twist the strands together, securing them into two neat tails, way more presentable than the disaster from earlier.

Dick is already getting dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he puts on his socks. And he looks so good.

The kind of good that makes your stomach flip, that makes you forget why you're even leaving the house, that makes you think maybe you could convince him to just... stay home. Because God.

He's in a fitted compression shirt—black, short-sleeved, clinging to his chest and arms, the fabric molding perfectly over muscle. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, sitting just right, loose and comfortable but still showing enough that your brain immediately starts short circuiting.

He pushes a hand through his hair, his biceps flexing, and... yeah. Yeah, maybe training can wait. You could definitely stay home. You could definitely pull him back into bed, climb into his lap, and—

Before you can finish the thought, he glances up, lips twitching in amusement, like he knows exactly what's going through your pretty little mind.

Then he steps forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before murmuring, "I'm gonna go put my shoes on and wait for you in the living room, baby."

And just like that, the moment is gone. You sigh as he walks off, leaving you alone in the bedroom, your brain still running through every way you could possibly lure him back.

But no. You promised. So, with a grumble, you shuffle to your side of the closet, fishing out a pair of leggings—high waisted, snatching you up perfectly—a matching sports bra, and a fitted t-shirt.

After slipping them on, you pause in front of the mirror, smoothing a hand over your stomach, turning slightly to check yourself out. Yep. You look good. And if you're going to get thrown around today, you might as well look hot doing it.

Before heading out, you detour to Dick's side of the closet, grabbing one of his hoodies, a habit you've never bothered breaking, because why would you? His hoodies are big, soft, and they smell like him—a mix of clean laundry, soap, and something distinctly him.

By the time you make it to the living room, he's already sprawled on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, scrolling through his phone with that effortless kind of ease that makes your stomach flip. He looks so good, all relaxed and stupidly hot in that fitted shirt, and for a second, you almost forget what you were about to do.

But you recover quickly, stepping up to him and tossing the hoodie onto his lap before leaning down to kiss him.

"Hold my hoodie for me a little, yeah?"

He chuckles, his lips curling into a smirk against yours as his hand slides down to your ass, giving it a playful slap.

"You mean my hoodie," he corrects.

"Same thing," you murmur, pulling away before he can deepen the kiss, just to be annoying.

He watches you as you turn away, amusement flickering in his bright blue eyes, but you don't miss the way they drift, the way his gaze naturally follows the curve of your ass as you move toward the hallway.

And that's when you decide, why not push him a little further? Just a little. Just to see how much self control he really has. So, when you reach for your shoes, you do it slowly, deliberately bending over, giving him the full view of your ass, the tight stretch of your leggings leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

And oh, you know he's watching. You can feel his gaze burning into you, can practically hear the way his breath hitches, the second he makes the mistake of looking.

Because holy fucking shit, you're not playing fair. He knows you're doing it on purpose, knows you're teasing him, but God, it doesn't matter, because the second his eyes land on you, his brain short circuits.

Your leggings are so fucking tight, hugging every curve of your ass, accentuating the dip of your waist, the length of your legs, the way your muscles flex as you adjust your stance. And worse? The position you're in, it's like you're presenting yourself to him, back arched just enough, like you're asking for him to come up behind you, press his hands to your hips, and—

No. Nope. He needs to stop thinking like that. Needs to think about anything else before his dick gets the wrong idea.

So he clenches his jaw, forces his gaze upward, tries to focus on literally anything that isn't the fact that you are perfectly bent over in front of him, wearing the tightest fucking leggings known to man.

Taxes. The Gotham Knights losing. The last time Jason ate a chili dog in the Batmobile and nearly got murdered for it.

But none of it works, because you are right there, your ass right there, and he suddenly regrets everything. And you? You know exactly what you're doing, taking your sweet time tying your laces, shifting your weight just enough to make the fabric pull tighter.

Fuck. Dick shifts, jaw tight, exhaling slowly through his nose as he wills his body to calm the fuck down. This is fine. He can handle this.

He's a grown ass man, he's trained his body to withstand pain, he can absolutely resist the urge to grab your hips and grind against you until you're both panting. Probably.

When you finally straighten up, you glance at him over your shoulder, lips twitching like you know exactly what you just did. And all he can do is swallow down the heat rising in his chest, exhaling sharply as he leans back against the couch, feigning casual indifference.

Except he's not casual. He is fighting for his life.

But you don't give him a second to recover. Because next, you're grabbing your little backpack, stuffing it with water bottles and a few granola bars from the pantry.

And Dick? Dick takes the opportunity to get a little revenge. Because if you're gonna tease him, then he's gonna return the favor.

Every time you reach for something, he finds a reason to move behind you, brushing against your ass, his touch just light enough to be accidental.

But you know it's not. You know exactly what he's doing. And you refuse to acknowledge it. Because this is his fault.

He wanted to train instead of staying home and fucking you? Well, he's in for a treat.

A few minutes later, you're perched on the back of Dick's bike, adjusting the new helmet he got for you. Custom made, of course, because he never does things halfway. This one is sleek, perfectly fitted to your head, and worst—or best—of all, it has cat ears.

"Really?" you deadpan as you poke at them.

He grins, sliding his own helmet on. "You love it."

You huff, but yeah. Yeah, you do love it, even if you won't admit it out loud.

With one smooth motion, he swings his leg over the bike, settling into the front seat. The second he's in place, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing yourself against his back.

"Ready, baby?"

You nod, giving him a squeeze, and the bike rumbles to life beneath you, and oh, God, that sound is so hot.

The streets of Gotham are uncharacteristically light on traffic today, which means one thing: Dick is putting on a show. He leans into every turn effortlessly, weaving through the roads with a confidence that makes your stomach flip, the sheer control in his movements making you hold tighter onto him.

And he knows it.

He knows exactly what he's doing, showing off just to feel the way your fingers tighten around his torso, the way your breath catches when he accelerates, taking full advantage of Gotham's rare lack of traffic.

By the time you finally reach the Batcave, your grip on him is ironclad, and he's grinning under his helmet. He pulls smoothly into the luxurious underground lair, parking the bike with a level of ease that makes you want to roll your eyes.

The second he cuts the engine, he shifts, tugging off his helmet before turning to you.

"Alright, sweet girl, c'mere," he murmurs, reaching for you.

You let him help you off, rolling your shoulders as he gently unclasps your helmet, pulling it from your head with so much care, as if it's some delicate thing. Then, without missing a beat, he cups your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You hum against him, then pull back just enough to narrow your eyes at him.

"Showing off much?" you ask, raising a brow.

His lips curl, not even pretending to deny it. "Did it work?"

You huff, fighting back a smile. Yeah. Yeah, it worked. It always works. He grins, taking your hand and tugging you toward the sparring room.

Now, despite being called a sparring room, the space itself is borderline excessive, but then again, Bruce built it, so of course it is.

Half of it is a high tech training area—sleek mats, an entire section dedicated to weapons, a reinforced wall for target practice, and state-of-the-art tech monitoring every possible performance metric.

The other half?

A fully equipped gym, the kind of setup that would make even professional athletes jealous. There's a ridiculous range of equipment, a custom built treadmill that can handle inhuman speeds, racks of weights, punching bags, and even a climbing wall.

It's the epitome of form meets function—practical as hell but still exuding the kind of wealth only someone like Bruce Wayne could casually throw at a training room.

And right now? It's completely empty, just as Dick promised.

He leads you to the gym side, fingers laced with yours, guiding you toward a nearby bench. The second you sit down, you immediately pull out a granola bar from your backpack, peeling the wrapper with zero hesitation.

Dick snorts, crossing his arms as he watches you take the first bite. "Really?"

"What?" you mumble around your mouthful. "You dragged me here. Least I can do is have a snack first."

He chuckles, shaking his head as he kneels to retie one of his sneakers. "Fine, fine. Get your pre-workout in."

You roll your eyes, finishing off the bar while he straightens up, reaching for his arms to gently tug him closer. He hums, allowing it, and you press your forehead against his stomach for a moment, breathing him in, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.

It's comforting, being here with him, wrapped in the familiarity of his warmth. His hand comes up, fingers brushing gently over your braids before resting against the back of your head.

"You good, baby?"

You nod against him. "Yeah. Just stealing some energy before you kick my ass."

That makes him laugh, a soft, throaty sound that vibrates through his core. "C'mon, sweet girl," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Let's start with some stretches."

You groan, but let him pull you up, following him onto one of the mats. And that's where the real trouble starts.

Because yeah, stretching is important, but why the fuck does he have to look like that while doing it? You drop into a lunge, arms reaching over your head, but your eyes immediately flick to him, to the way his muscles shift so fluidly as he raises his arms, tilting to one side, then the other. The dip of his waist, the flex of his biceps, the subtle little furrow in his brow as he concentrates. You swallow, quickly averting your gaze before he catches you.

Dick, however, is having a similar problem.

Because he knows—knows—you look good in tight clothes. He's been with you long enough to have that fact permanently ingrained in his brain.

But something about you in gym clothes, stretched out on the mat, moving so effortlessly as you go through your routine... it's really fucking distracting. He wants to focus, but every time you reach for your toes, your leggings pull just a little tighter around your thighs. Every time you twist your torso, the curve of your waist becomes painfully obvious.

And when you drop into a seated stretch, legs spread apart as you reach forward, touching your hands to the mat—

He looks away, running a hand through his hair, forcing his mind onto something else.

Training. Right. That's why you're here. Training, not staring at you like a teenager seeing their first pair of tits.

He thinks for a moment, considering their options. "Let's start easy. Some bodyweight exercises."

You shrug. "Sounds good, baby."

And so, the real workout begins, simple at first. A few rounds of squats, lunges, and push ups. Some core work. Even a bit of light shadowboxing.

But the problem?

Neither of you can stop stealing glances at the other. Because yeah, the Batcave's gym is nice. Top tier, expensive as hell, better than the majority of Gotham's gyms. But it's nothing compared to the view.

By the time you and Dick make it to the sparring mats, you're already sweaty, your body warm from the workout. Your muscles are loose, and honestly? You're feeling pretty damn good. That is, until you realize what exactly he's suggesting.

"Sparring?" you echo, eyeing him skeptically as he stretches his arms over his head. "With you?"

He grins. "Scared, my love?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes even as your pulse kicks up. "Oh, please."

But internally? Yeah, you're feeling the slightest flutter of nerves, not because you think he'd hurt you—he'd rather die—but because you know exactly what sparring with him means.

It means his hands all over you, gripping, steady, possessive. It means bodies tangling together, muscles flexing and straining, sweat slicked skin brushing in ways that are not at all good for self control.

And after an entire morning of watching him, of feeling him, of listening to every low groan and quiet grunt he makes while working out, his jaw tight with concentration, his shirt clinging to his chest in a way that should be illegal—yeah, you're in trouble. But you refuse to back down.

"Alright," you say, shaking out your arms, rolling your shoulders. "Let's do it."

His grin widens, eyes darkening just a fraction. "That's my girl."

The first round starts off easy—a warm up more than anything. He lets you get used to the rhythm, lets you test the give and take of each strike, each block. You counter, dodge, try to anticipate his movements, but he's so damn quick, it's like trying to fight a shadow.

He doesn't just react, he predicts. Every time you move, he's already a step ahead, his body fluid and controlled, striking with the kind of effortless precision that makes you realize just how out of your depth you are.

Or maybe it's just the fact that your boyfriend is also a vigilante and has years of circus acrobatics behind him, his body trained for this in ways yours never could be. He moves like it's second nature, like he was made for this—because, in a way, he was.

Still, you're holding your own. For the first few minutes, at least. But then? Then he grabs you.

It happens fast. One second, you're slipping out of the way of a jab, the next, he's got you pinned. Your back slams onto the mat, wrists trapped above your head in a solid grip, his weight hot and heavy between your thighs.

A soft sigh escapes you, and you blink up at him, dazed.

He's smirking. "Got you, baby."

Your pulse spikes. Because he's right there, hovering over you, breath warm against your lips, his chest rising and falling in sharp, controlled breaths. His body is solid, pressing into yours, his grip firm enough to make your fingers twitch.

You swallow, eyes flicking over his face. He's sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, the curve of his biceps glistening, and you feel a deep, slow heat curl in your stomach.

But before you can dwell on it, he clears his throat, shifting slightly, the tiniest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.

"Again," he says, his voice just a touch rougher than before.

You barely get to catch your breath before he's helping you up, stepping back, giving you space. And then you do it again.

This time, you push harder, trying to be unpredictable, trying to get the upper hand, but it's useless. No matter how fast you move, how hard you strike, he's always just a fraction ahead.

And once again, he gets you pinned. Your breath catches as your back meets the mat, your arms above your head, his body covering yours.

He smirks down at you. "Damn, baby. Thought you were tougher than this."

Your stomach tightens. Your fingers flex against his hold, your skin burning from the way he's pressed into you. He's so warm, his shirt damp with sweat, clinging to his torso, and it's honestly not fair how good he looks like this.

He releases you, pulling away with a smirk as he stands, offering you a hand.

"Again," he says, that same rough edge to his voice.

And this time? Yeah, you're not sure if you want to win or if you just want to keep letting him pin you down.

"Let me take this off," you murmur, voice light, casual, as if you don't know exactly what you're doing.

And then you strip. It's nothing dramatic, you just grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up over your head, letting it fall to the floor beside you. But to him? It's like slow motion. His breath hitches, his eyes locking onto you like he's been starved for weeks. Because that sports bra? The one you picked for function, for support?

Yeah. It's doing things to him. The snug fabric cups your tits perfectly, lifting them just right, leaving nothing to the imagination except the parts he already knows by heart. The curve of your cleavage is glistening with sweat, and the way the material stretches across your chest has his hands itching to touch, to grab, to pull.

His thoughts derail before he can stop them. Because he's seen them, felt them, tasted them. He knows exactly how sensitive your nipples are, how you arch when he flicks his tongue just right.

He remembers the way your back curves when he palms them, the way you gasp when he squeezes a little rougher than necessary. And his body? It reacts before his brain can catch up.

Heat pools low in his stomach, a sharp, throbbing ache settling between his legs as blood rushes south. His cock twitches in his sweats, already thickening, and he knows he needs to stop looking, needs to breathe, needs to think about literally anything else before this gets too obvious.

But then your voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, light and teasing. "Ready, or are you stalling?"

His gaze snaps up to your face just in time to catch your smirk—that playful, mischievous little curve of your lips, the one that always means trouble.

His throat works as he swallows hard, his voice a little breathless when he says, "Yeah. Ready."

And then, because he refuses to let you have the upper hand, he reaches for the hem of his own shirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion. The reaction is instant. You bite your lip, hard. Because your man? He's unreal.

Broad shoulders, thick arms, sculpted chest, all of it glistening with sweat, his abs flexing slightly with every breath. And then there's the happy trail, that perfect dusting of hair leading down, disappearing beneath his waistband, teasing at something you know way too well.

Something you know every ridge and vein of. Heat pulses through you, pooling low, making your thighs press together instinctively.

But then he is the one pulling you out of your thoughts, tilting his head, smirking just a little too knowingly as he murmurs, "You good, baby?"

It takes a second for you to process the question. "Yeah," you say quickly, shaking yourself out of it. "Just—yeah. Ready."

You try again. You really do. You focus on the fight, on strategy, on winning, but it doesn't even matter. Because it's the same as before—no matter what you do, no matter how fast or clever you are, he's just better.

And this time? This time when he gets you pinned, you moan. Because the second your back hits the mat, you feel it. The solid weight of him pressing you down, his thighs bracketing yours, his hands wrapped around your wrists, his cock—

Hard. Thick. Pressing right against your pussy through the layers of fabric between you.

A slow, drowning heat spreads through you, your breath hitching as you shift, and yep, it's worse. The friction, the pressure, the sheer heat of him against you, and your body reacts before you can stop it, hips tilting up the tiniest bit, just enough to grind.

His grip tightens. His breath shudders. And when you dare to glance up at his face? His pupils are blown wide, his jaw clenched, his expression caught somewhere between control and absolute wreckage.

"D-Dick, we—"

Your voice breaks, barely more than a breathless stammer, but he doesn't let you finish. Doesn't let you think. Doesn't give you a single second to process what's happening before his mouth is on yours, swallowing the rest of your words in a kiss so deep, so hungry, it knocks the air from your lungs.

And you don't even hesitate.

Your lips part for him the second he pushes in, a soft, desperate moan spilling from your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth, hot and claiming. There's no teasing, no testing, just need, pure and consuming, his mouth moving against yours in a rhythm that's all too familiar, all too dangerous.

Because it's him. Because he knows exactly how to kiss you, exactly how to angle his head, exactly how to steal the breath from your lungs and make you crave more, chase more.

And you do.

Your fingers twitch against his grip, your body arching instinctively, your thighs clenching as you feel it again. Him, grinding against you, his cock pressing right where you need it, rubbing so perfectly, the friction sending little shocks of heat straight to your core.

And he doesn't stop. Doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. He just rocks into you, slow and purposeful, letting you feel every inch of him, letting you squirm beneath him, letting the heat between you build with every slow, teasing thrust.

And God, you're getting so wet. You can feel it, the way your slick soaks through your leggings, the way it makes every drag of his cock feel hotter, messier, more desperate. And he notices. Of course he notices.

Because suddenly, his grip shifts—one hand still pinning your wrists above your head, the other palm pressing firm against your tits. Fingers squeeze through the thin fabric of your bra, teasing over your hardened nipples, making you gasp into his mouth.

And he groans, low and gravelly, his hips jerking forward, grinding against you just a little harder, a little faster, dragging another moan from your lips as your head tilts back against the mat.

He follows. Doesn't even give you time to catch your breath before his mouth is on you again, lips tracing the curve of your jaw, teeth nipping at the soft skin beneath your ear, tongue soothing over the sting before moving lower. Down, down, to your neck, where he sucks, hot and wet, marking you in a way that sends a sharp thrill straight through you.

And you whimper, hips rolling up against him, thighs trembling as he works his way lower, as his mouth devours every inch of skin it finds. Your collarbone, your chest, his breath hot against your sweat slicked skin as he licks a slow, teasing stripe across the swell of your tits.

And then? Then he yanks your bra up. Not off, just high enough to free your tits, high enough to leave them bare, to leave them at his mercy. And he doesn't hesitate.

His mouth is on you in seconds, lips wrapping around one stiffened peak, tongue swirling, teasing, before he sucks, slow and deep, and the sensation shoots straight down your spine, leaving your head spinning, your body burning.

And then? Then he bites.

Just the tiniest scrape of his teeth, just enough to make you gasp, to make you arch, to make heat flood between your thighs as you moan his name. And he smirks against your skin. You're so wet.

You feel it—feel the way your slick soaks through your leggings, the way every slow, teasing drag of his cock against your clit leaves a damp, sticky patch against his sweats. And from the way his breathing shudders, from the way his hips jerk, just a little, every time he rubs against you, you know he can feel it too.

But does he stop? Of course not.

If anything, he doubles down, rolling his hips in slow, torturous circles, just to hear those little gasps you can't hold back, just to see the way your lashes flutter, your lips parting as another soft, desperate moan slips free.

God, you're a mess. Flushed and panting, chest rising and falling with every sharp inhale, your nipples stiff and aching as he blows a teasing breath over them, the cool air making you whimper.

"Baby..."

It's barely a sound, more of a breathy little whine, but he hears it. Feels it. The desperation, the plea. And it drives him insane.

He hums, mouth pressing to your skin again, sucking a deep, dark mark right above your breast before he pulls back, before his lips hover just over yours, warm and teasing, taunting.

"Yeah, my love?"

His voice is low, rough, but you barely register it, barely even hear him over the way his cock keeps grinding against your swollen clit, rubbing just right, just enough.

You moan, hips rolling instinctively, chasing more, chasing him, your hands trembling where he still has them pinned.

"I need you."

His mind goes blank. Because usually? He has a little more self control. He thinks things through, considers where he's about to fuck you before he actually does it. But now? Now, that part of his brain shuts off completely. Because he needs you. Now.

He groans, low and wrecked, his entire body tensing before he moves—fast, determined, not even giving you time to think before his grip shifts, before he releases your hands and grabs you instead, folding you up so easily it makes your breath catch.

And then? Then he tugs. Your leggings, your panties—down, just enough to bare you, just enough to give him what he wants.

Jesus, your pussy is so wet. So fucking pretty, so needy, glistening in the dim lighting, slick already dripping through your lips, and the sight alone has his cock aching, has his hands shaking with the effort it takes not to just shove his sweats down and fuck you right now.

But he needs access.

So he yanks one sneaker off your foot, quick and practiced, and then your leggings and panties follow, just from that leg, just enough to let him spread you open, just enough to let him fuck you properly.

His sweats and boxers follow, tugging them down just enough to free his dick, and shit, he's so hard.

Thick and flushed, his cock standing heavy between you both, the tip leaking, smearing precum against the soft skin of your thigh as he moves, as he presses back over you.

Then he grinds. Slow, teasing, dragging his cock through your soaked folds, parting them with his shaft, slick and warm and so fucking wet that it leaves a shining trail along his length.

You whimper, hips rolling up, chasing it, your clit throbbing every time the thick, swollen head of his cock catches against it, sending little sparks of pleasure jolting up your spine.

But then he kisses you, and you just fucking melt.

It's messy, hot and needy, his lips slanting over yours, swallowing down every soft little sound you make. His hands grip you, one curled around your thigh, the other tangled into your hair, keeping you in place as he deepens it, as he drinks you in.

You moan, mouth parting for him, letting him lick inside, letting him taste the desperation on your tongue. Your hands slide up, burying into his dark hair, tugging, pulling, making him groan into your mouth, making his hips stutter against yours, his cock pressing harder into your soaked cunt.

And fuck, it's filthy.

The slick, messy sounds of his cock grinding through your folds, his precum clinging to you in strings, mixing with your own arousal, warm and sticky, coating every inch of him.

But it's not enough. You need more. You need his dick.

So you reach between your bodies, fingers curling around the thick, solid weight of him, and he shudders. "Shit—"

You guide him down, aligning him with your entrance, so slick, so ready, so fucking desperate to be filled. And he doesn't hesitate, doesn't even think twice before he starts to push in.

And holy fuck, the stretch—

Thick, hot, bare, his cock splitting you open, inch by inch, making you feel every vein, every ridge, every perfect, blissful drag as your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

Your breath catches, a long, broken moan spilling from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair, clutching at him as he sinks deeper. He presses his forehead to yours, panting, groaning, trying not to lose his mind completely at the way you clench around him.

But then he's bottoming out, buried to the hilt, so deep, so fucking deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

He hisses when you move, when your hips lift just the slightest bit, when your walls clench around him, tight and wet and hot, making his cock throb, making his muscles tighten, making him feel like he's seconds away from losing it.

"Dick," you murmur, breathless, wrecked, your voice all soft and needy, your nails digging into his scalp as you shift beneath him. "M-Move, baby. Fuck—"

That's all he needs. He pulls out almost entirely, the thick head of his cock dragging along your walls, slick and hot and messy, making you gasp as the stretch flares up all over again.

Then he slams back in. Hard. Deep. Filling you completely, stretching your cunt so fucking perfectly that you arch against him, that you whine, that your thighs tremble as he buries himself to the hilt.

And then? Then he fucks you.

No teasing, no hesitation, just pure, desperate need. His hand grips your thigh, lifting it, keeping it up so he can sink deeper. So he can fuck you just the way he knows you love, making you feel every thick, throbbing inch as his cock drags in and out of your soaked cunt.

And God, you're so wet. It's filthy—the slick, messy sounds of your pussy taking him, of your arousal coating his cock, dripping down his length, smearing over his thighs, soaking the mat beneath you.

Every thrust is perfect, the thick, flushed head of his cock hitting all the right spots, grinding against that sweet, sensitive place inside you, making your walls flutter, making your stomach tighten, making your clit throb every time his skin slaps against it.

You gasp a moan, and before you know it, his lips crash against yours.

Hot. Messy. Desperate. His lips slant over yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, claiming, devouring, drinking down every moan, every whimper, every broken little sound he pulls from your throat.

You kiss him back just as hungrily, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling into his damp hair, clutching at the dark strands as he pounds into you. His dick splits you open as he fucks you deeper, harder, faster, like he needs it, like he can't breathe without it. Like he can't breathe without you.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his voice rough, almost wrecked, panting against your lips.

He keeps fucking into you, deep and steady, each thrust perfect, each grind of his hips sending sparks down your spine, making your whole body burn.

"Taking me so well, you feel so fucking good... so tight, so warm, so wet for me."

His words make your cunt clench, gripping him harder, and he feels it. You know he does, because he groans, his head tipping back for a second before he leans in again, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged as he keeps going.

"You love this, don't you?" he pants, voice laced with pure hunger, punctuated by the deep, wet slap of his cock sinking into you again and again. "Love how deep I am?"

You can't even answer. Your mouth is open, lips trembling, but the only thing coming out are these breathy, helpless little moans. You're too overwhelmed to form words, too caught up in the way he's fucking you—fast, deep, needy, like he has to, like he's got no choice but to ruin you.

And you're so close, you can taste it. And he knows.

"Cum for me, baby," he urges, voice thick with lust, with want, his cock grinding against that sweet, sensitive spot inside you, each thrust dragging his skin along your swollen, throbbing clit. "C'mon, love, let me feel you—let me feel you cum on my dick."

And fuck, it hits almost instantly.

A sharp, hot, blinding pleasure that shatters you, rips through your whole body. It makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin as your walls tighten hard around him, squeezing his cock, sucking him in, milking him as your orgasm crashes over you.

Your cunt spasms, pulsing, clenching, and you swear you black out for a second, pleasure surging through every nerve ending. The intensity makes your thighs tremble, your mouth falling open in a silent scream before it finally turns into a choked moan.

And he doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, praising you, whispering soft, filthy things against your skin. "That's it, baby, fuck—so good, so tight—you're so fucking perfect for me, you feel so good—"

And it's too much.

You're still shaking, still clenching around him, and he's right there. His thrusts get rougher, his hips snapping against you faster, deeper, sloppier, chasing his own high because God, you're still gripping him so tight, still soaking his cock, your slick smeared all over his thighs, his abs, dripping down onto the mat.

"Baby," he groans, his voice shaking now, "fuck—I'm—fuck—"

And then he loses it.

His hips slam into you one last time, burying himself deep, his cock twitching, pulsing before he spills. Hot. Thick. So much.

His cum floods your pussy, filling you completely, coating your walls, his whole body tensing as he groans deep into your mouth, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you still as he fucks you through it, grinding into you, pushing his release deeper.

And you're just babbling, pleasure still wracking your body, your arms wrapped tight around him as you murmur, "Baby, I love you, I love you so much—"

"I love you too, doll," he groans, his voice hoarse, raw, thick with need.

His hips moving slower, dragging his dick through your still clenching walls, letting you feel every inch as he gives you every last drop of his cum.

Then his lips are back on yours. Messy. Desperate. Like he's starving for you, like he can't breathe without your lips on his, without the taste of you, without the heat of your body pressed so tightly against his own.

And before you can even catch your breath, before you can even think, he's moving, flipping you over in one smooth motion, pulling you on top of him, his cock slipping out just a little before you sink back down, making you both gasp.

Your chest rises and falls against his as you try to catch your breath, but the way he feels inside you—hot, thick, still pulsing—makes it impossible to focus on anything but him. Your hands smooth over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips, the way his muscles twitch when you shift, rotating your hips in a slow, teasing grind.

"Fuck," he groans, voice low, almost wrecked, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, gripping like he can't help it.

You smirk, leaning down until your lips barely graze his, your tits pressing against his sweat dampened chest, nipples brushing against his warm skin as your elbows hit the mat on either side of his head.

"That good, baby?"

His only response is a sharp inhale through his nose, a needy, helpless little whimper that shoots straight through you, settling deep in your cunt.

You start to move again, rolling your hips, letting his cock drag slowly out of you before sinking right back in, stretching you all over again. His cum makes it so messy, so slick, letting him slide in and out so easily. But the stretch is still so good, the fullness so perfect that you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning too loud.

He feels everything.

Your tight, fluttering walls squeezing around him, your wetness coating his dick, dripping down over his balls, making a sticky mess between your thighs. And he's sensitive, overstimulated from his orgasm, every slow, deliberate roll of your hips sending jolts of pleasure straight up his spine, but he doesn't care.

Not when you feel like this. Not when your body is wrapped around him, soft and hot and wet, moving with that perfect, lazy rhythm, dragging out his pleasure, making it last.

"Baby," he pants, voice breathless, desperate, his fingers flexing on your ass, squeezing, guiding your movements even though you don't need it, because he just needs to touch you. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

You hum, amusement curling at the edges of your pleasure as you rock your hips again, deeper this time, pressing your clit against his pelvis with each slow grind.

"You're still so hard," you murmur, nipping at his bottom lip before soothing it with your tongue. "Gonna give me another one?"

His whole body shudders.

"Fuck, baby—"

But you swallow the rest of his words with a kiss, slow and wet, all tongue and heat and need. He groans into your mouth, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, pressing you tighter against him as his cock twitches inside you, so fucking deep, so perfectly snug in the grip of your soft, soaked pussy.

His mind is a mess.

You're everywhere—wrapped around him, squeezing him, your scent flooding his lungs, your body moving so fucking perfectly against his.

He needs more.

His hands slide up your back, over your ribs, before grabbing your tits, squeezing as he thumbs your nipples, making you gasp into his mouth, your hips stuttering as another slow grind makes his cock rub against that perfect, swollen spot inside you.

"Baby," you whimper, your voice breathy, needy, your fingers tangling into his hair as your hips pick up the pace.

He groans, his lips dragging from your mouth to your jaw, your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse before he whispers, "That's it, my love—fuck, ride me, just like that."

"Shit—baby—fuck, your dick—so deep, so good—"

The words spill out between gasps, between moans, barely coherent, your voice high and breathy as you fuck yourself down onto him, taking every thick, pulsing inch of his cock.

Dick is losing it. His hands are all over you—gripping your waist, squeezing your ass, cupping your tits, anything to ground himself. Because the way you're riding him, the way your tight, soaked cunt is squeezing around him, making those obscene, wet sounds every time you sink down? Yeah, he's barely holding it together.

And then you straighten up. Your hands plant on his abs, and you lean back just a little, just enough to let him see.

His stomach tightens, his dick throbs, because the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, stretching around him, your soft, slick folds parting every time you take him to the hilt—fuck, it's perfect.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, his fingers digging into your skin, his hips bucking up on their own, because he can't help it. He needs more, he needs to feel more.

His gaze drags up, and your tits are bouncing with every roll of your hips, your nipples tight and flushed, practically begging for his mouth, his hands, his teeth.

But it's your pussy that ruins him.

The way your pussy is slick, coated in your arousal and his cum, stretched so perfectly around him, your creamy wetness making a mess of his cock, dripping down onto his pelvis, smearing over his abs as you keep fucking yourself on him, taking him so deep, so fucking good.

He moves without thinking. One hand presses against your belly, feeling himself inside you, feeling how deep he is, how your pussy is gripping him so tight he swears he can barely breathe.

"Baby—" he pants, his voice wrecked, his thumb slipping lower, lazily rubbing over your swollen, soaked clit.

You whimper, your head falling back, your back arching, your pace stuttering for just a second before you grind deeper, chasing that feeling, chasing that pressure as you keep taking all of his dick, every inch, until the thick, sensitive tip kisses your womb.

"That's it, baby," Dick groans, his voice thick with heat, "fuck yourself on me—just like that, my perfect girl—"

Your moan is high and needy, your body trembling as you ride him, each grind of your hips making your clit drag against his thumb, slick and swollen, sending little shocks of pleasure through your body. His cock is so deep, filling you up so perfectly, every thick inch stretching you, splitting you open, fucking you into bliss.

"Look at you, love," he pants, his free hand gripping your hip, fingers pressing into your heated skin as he watches you, eyes dark and hazy. "So fucking pretty—so wet for me—taking my dick so fucking well—"

His words sink into you, hot and filthy, curling deep in your gut, making your walls flutter around him. He can feel it, can feel how close you are, how your pussy keeps clenching, getting tighter, slicker, dripping down his length, leaving a mess of arousal and cum between your thighs.

"You gonna cum, baby?" he murmurs, his fingers pressing firmer against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles, making your whole body jolt, "gonna cum on my dick like a good girl?"

You sob out a gasp, your hips jerking, grinding down harder, chasing the release that's right there, coiling deep, burning hot.

"Dick—fuck—I'm—"

It hits you, slamming into you all at once, pleasure bursting through your body as you clench down around him, your cunt spasming, pulsing tight as you cum, soaking him, dripping down his cock, your whole body shuddering as the pleasure wracks through you.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching you come apart, feeling you come apart around him. "That's my girl—so good—so fucking good—"

You're panting, your body still trembling, your head light, and then he moves.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you down, pressing your chest against his, pinning you tight against his body as his other hand grips the back of your head, tilting your face, slamming his mouth against yours.

You whimper into the kiss, your lips parting instantly, letting him devour you, tongue deep, filthy, claiming your mouth as his hips snap up, thrusting into you, deep and hard.

You gasp, the stretch overwhelming, still so sensitive, still fluttering around his cock as he starts fucking into you. His body grinds against yours, keeping you trapped against him, his cock splitting you open, every stroke pushing him deeper into your needy, messy cunt.

"More, baby—" you're moaning, panting against his lips, "moremoremore—"

Dick's mind is a fucking mess.

Because he loves you. Loves you so much it makes his chest tight, makes his head spin, makes his cock throb inside you every time you gasp, every time you moan his name, every time you take him like this, like you were fucking made for him.

And it's not just the sex, it's everything.

It's the way you kiss him, the way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way you love him. The way you know him, every inch of him, inside and out. The way you drive him crazy, make him weak, make him want to give you everything.

And he can't deny you. So he doesn't.

His hips snap up, harder, faster, driving his cock so deep inside your cunt he feels you twitch around him. Feels the way your tight, wet walls suck him back in every time he pulls out, making it so hard to think, so hard to focus on anything except the heat of your body, the desperate way you grind down on him, meeting him halfway, fucking yourself onto his dick as fast as he's fucking into you.

The gym echoes with it, loud and filthy, the wet slap of skin on skin, your breathless moans, his guttural groans, your gasps, his whimpers. His balls slap against your ass every time you drop down onto his cock, his sweat-slicked abs grinding against your swollen clit, making you jolt, making you tremble, your cunt drenched, dripping, so warm, so fucking wet.

"Fuck—" he gasps, "you're so—baby, I'm gonna—"

He's so close, and he knows you feel it too. The way his thrusts get sloppy, the way his cock twitches inside you, how his abs tighten with every desperate snap of his hips. And fuck, the way you're squeezing him, milking him, dragging him deeper.

"Baby—"

His voice is hoarse, breaking on your name as his fingers dig into your waist, grip tightening like he needs to hold onto you, needs to ground himself, because he's about to fucking lose it.

And then he does.

His head tips back, a strangled, wrecked moan leaving his lips as his cock buries itself inside you one last time—throbbing, pulsing, his cum spilling, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel the heat of it in your belly.

And that does it.

The moment you feel him pump you full, it sends you spiraling, your whole body shuddering above him as your cunt clenches around his cock, squeezing every last drop from him, pulling him deeper, holding him tight.

Your orgasm washes over you, hot and blinding, making you tremble, making you whimper, making your back arch as your hips rock, fucking him through it, dragging out every last jolt of pleasure, every last spurt of cum inside you.

You finally collapse onto his heaving chest, panting, shaking, wrecked, you feel the warmth of it seeping out, thick and sticky, trickling down your thighs, making a mess between your legs. You both feel spent, your bodies burning, slick with sweat, soaked in each other.

His breath is uneven, his chest rising and falling beneath you as his hand finds your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle after how desperate he just was.

You whimper softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, melting against him. He smiles, exhausted, dazed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple before he exhales, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

He lets you come back to yourself slowly, his hands soothing, gentle, as they rub slow, lazy circles into your skin. His chest rises and falls beneath you, the steady rhythm lulling you, and at some point, you realize that your heartbeat is synced to his.

You sigh, content, lifting your head just enough to press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he turns, looking down at you. His gaze is warm, fond, and when he leans in to kiss your forehead, it makes your chest flutter.

"Good, my love?"

A hum leaves your lips, soft, sleepy, your body still boneless on top of him. "Mhmm."

But then your eyes drift down to where you're still connected, where his cock rests inside you, where the mess you made together is seeping out, sticky between your thighs, and reality hits.

"But now we have to clean up here... and ourselves, if we're at that."

You groan, dreading it, and he chuckles, amused, voice husky when he murmurs, "Lucky for us, the showers are just next door."

That makes you tense, your eyes widening slightly as the thought hits you.

"But what if someone comes down and sees us?"

He grins, teasing, smug as he tilts his head. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to fuck—"

Your hand flies up, slapping his chest with a scandalized gasp as you pout, "That's not true! Don't be mean, baby."

His smile softens, lips twitching as he concedes, "Alright, maybe I wanted it a bit too..."

Your eyes narrow, lips curling into something mischievous, and before he realizes it, you squeeze your walls around him.

His breath catches, his hips jerk, and he hisses, his grip on you tightening. "Okay, okay, fine, yeah. I wanted to fuck you badly."

A soft giggle escapes your lips, satisfaction swelling in your chest as you murmur, "That's better."

His hand cups the back of your head, pulling you in, and when your lips meet, it's slow, lazy, deep. Your tongues tangle, your moans swallowed, your bodies still pressed so close, his cock still inside you, still hard.

And God, it'd be so easy to move again, to rock your hips, to keep going, to fuck him one more time, to feel him fill you up again. But you can't.

Because the last thing you want is for Alfred, or Bruce, or literally anyone else to walk in and see you like this. And from the way Dick moves the moment the kiss breaks, you know he's thinking the exact same thing.

He grabs your ass, keeping you tight against him as he pushes himself up from the mat—his cock still buried inside you, still stretching you, holding you open, making sure not a single drop of his cum is wasted just yet.

And he carries you straight to the showers.

It's only when he finally steps inside that he lets you go, slowly pulling out, his cock leaving you aching, empty, and the moment he does, his cum spills out of you.

It drips, slick, sticky, warm, sliding down your thighs, clinging to your swollen folds, coating your skin, And he watches, ravenous, his throat bobbing, his jaw tightening as his fingers twitch at his sides. Like he's tempted, so tempted, to shove his fingers inside you, to push it all back in, but he forces himself to look away.

Instead, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he murmurs, "I'll get you a towel in a sec. Go on, start without me, love. I'll clean there and join you, okay?"

And by the way his voice dips, the way his fingers trail along your hips, the way his eyes darken as they flicker back down to your messy pussy... you already know he won't last long before he's back on you.

You move quickly, unpeeling yourself from your clothes with practiced ease, trying not to make a mess on the fabric. Or at the very least, not a big one.

Dick's cum is still slick between your thighs, thick and warm, and the last thing you want is to ruin something you actually like, so you're careful, rolling down your leggings, stepping out of them with a sigh, before making your way to the nearest stall.

The moment you step inside, you turn on the water, the warm spray soothing as it cascades down your body, washing away the sweat, the heat, the lingering haze of your orgasm. But as you predicted, Dick is back in less than a few minutes.

You feel him before you see him, his presence enveloping you as he steps in behind you, his chest pressing to your bare back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you in.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" you tease, your voice soft, playful, a smile tugging at your lips as you lean into him.

His lips find your shoulder, his kisses slow, lazy, trailing along your damp skin as he murmurs, smug, "Didn't even try, sweet girl."

A breathless laugh leaves you, and you tilt your head back, meeting his eyes, warm, fond, filled with something deeper, something softer. And he leans in, kissing you gently, lips lingering, hands exploring, touching, holding.

You sigh into it, melting, your fingers tangling into his wet hair as his arms tighten around you, and for a while, you just stand there, pressed together beneath the warm spray, soaking in each other.

When you finally pull away, he reaches for the soap, lathering up his hands before running them over your shoulders, your arms, down to your hips, his fingers gliding over every curve, every dip of your body.

And you do the same, smoothing your hands over his chest, down his abs, over his sides, mapping him out, washing him slowly, lazily, as his lips keep finding yours, over and over, soft, tender, like he can't help himself.

And honestly? You don't mind.

By the time you're drying off, your body feels loose, content, your muscles relaxed, and you're just about to slip back into your sweaty clothes when he clears his throat.

"Here."

You blink as he hands you something. A clean set of clothes. Sweatpants. A t-shirt. Panties. All your size. All new.

Your brows furrow, and you look at him, confused, voice soft as you ask, "Baby, what's with these?"

He shrugs, rubbing a towel through his wet hair, his expression casual, like it's nothing, like it's not a big deal, even though it is.

"I bought those a while ago, just in case you ever need a change."

Your chest tightens, your breath catches, and you stare at him, stunned, warmth swelling, spreading, something tender and sweet blooming inside you.

Because of course he did.

Of course he thought of you, of course he made sure you'd have something here, something comfortable, something yours.

Because that's who he is.

He's thoughtful, attentive, he loves you in a way that's so effortless, so genuine, so all-encompassing, that sometimes it catches you off guard, makes you feel so lucky, so cherished, you don't know how to handle it.

And as you keep staring, he finally notices, his towel lowering, his lips quirking as he raises a brow.

"What?"

You just shake your head, a soft, disbelieving smile on your lips as you murmur, "Nothing... just can't believe how perfect my man is."

And when he grins, bright, boyish, so in love, you swear your heart skips a beat.

You both finish getting dressed, the soft fabric of your new clothes making you feel more comfortable, and as Dick pulls on his shirt, you take a last look around the gym, making sure everything's in the same state you found it.

Not a single piece of equipment out of place. Not a single sign that you just spent the last half an hour getting fucked stupid on the mats.

Though, if anyone actually stepped in, you're pretty sure the scent of sweat, sex, and Dick's desperation is still hanging in the air.

But otherwise, perfectly fine. Dick stretches, rolling his shoulders before grabbing his helmet, and you follow him out, stepping into the cool air of the Batcave as he swings a leg over his bike.

He glances at you, tilting his head toward the seat behind him, smirking as he says, "C'mon, baby. Let's go home."

And you do, sliding in behind him, arms wrapping tight around his waist, cheek pressing to his back as the engine purrs beneath you.

The ride is smooth, the city lights blurring past as he weaves through the streets, taking the longer route, letting the wind rush over you, cool and invigorating, as you just hold on, completely content, completely at ease.

By the time you get home, your body is spent, your muscles loose, and you barely make it to the bed before collapsing onto it, melting into the sheets with a happy sigh.

Later, after a much needed nap, you stir against his chest, stretching slightly as a deep, content sigh escapes you, only to freeze when you hear his voice, low, warm, pressing against your ear.

"Still up for tonight?"

You blink, sleepy, your brain lagging, trying to catch up, until it clicks. Your eyes snap open, and you gasp, breath catching as you lift your head, grabbing his arm.

"No way... We're going to that restaurant?"

His grin is instant, his hand sliding down your waist as he murmurs, smug, affectionate, "Yeah, my love, we're going to the restaurant."

And just like that, you perk up, excitement sparking through you, and you don't even hesitate before grabbing your phone and firing off a quick message to Bruce:

thank you thank you thank you!!!

And you make sure to thank Dick, too.

The moment you put your phone down, you don't even hesitate. You tackle him back onto the bed, giggling, covering his face with kisses, your heart bursting with love.

And he laughs, warm and fond, holding you close, soaking in your affection, right up until your kisses start drifting lower.

Your lips brush along his jaw, then his throat, slow, purposeful, your hands sliding down his chest, nails scratching lightly over his abs as you shift, slipping between his legs.

"Baby..." he breathes, voice already deep, already knowing, his cock hardening beneath his sweats.

But you just smirk, settling yourself comfortably, pressing a kiss just above his waistband, eyes flicking up to meet his as you murmur, "Gotta thank you properly, don't I?"

His jaw clenches, his fingers digging into the sheets, but he doesn't stop you when you tug his sweats down, freeing his thick, heavy cock, already leaking at the tip.

And you waste no time. You lick up the length, slow, teasing, swirling your tongue around the head before closing your lips around it, sucking lightly, making him curse, his hand fisting into your hair.

"Fuck, my love..."

You hum, taking him deeper, your mouth hot, wet, your tongue lapping against the sensitive vein running along his cock as you bob your head, taking him inch by inch.

He's panting, groaning, his hips jerking, and when you hollow your cheeks, sucking him down until he hits the back of your throat, his head drops back, a low, desperate moan leaving him.

"Shit, baby—fuck, just like that."

You whimper, arousal pulsing through you, thighs clenching, and you know he feels it too. Knows you're already soaked, already needy just from sucking his dick.

But you keep going, keep swirling your tongue, keep fucking your mouth onto him until he grits out a warning, his grip tightening, his abs tensing beneath your hands.

"Gonna cum, baby—gonna—"

And you take it. Swallowing him down, drinking every drop, his groans filling the room as he twitches, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

But you're not done yet. Because the moment he catches his breath, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him, and within seconds, his cock is sliding back into your soaking cunt, stretching you wide, filling you deep, fucking you the way he knows you need.

"Gonna keep you full all day, my love—fuck, you feel so good."

And you thank him with every moan, every whimper, every orgasm he pulls from you.

And after dinner?

Let's just say you thank him again. Bent over the dining table, his cock slamming into you from behind, tits pressed into the wood, his hand fisted in your hair, his groans hot against your neck as he fills you up.

[graywaynewriter]

Rowdy Neighbors

Warnings: PIV, Dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), loud sex, voyeur?? (cause you can hear the neighbors), hair pulling,

"ugh finally," Dick huffs as he lets his body fall into bed "home...."

It was a long day and night of patrolling and fighting, he was just glad to be home and have a day off tomorrow.

"You know you're gonna owe Tim a day off after he picked up for you," you say slipping into your spot next to him, getting comfortable with his warmth.

"Yeah, but it was worth it. I honestly need more than 5 hours of sleep for once." he sighs as he pulls you closer into his side kissing the top of your head "And, you wont have to wake up to an empty bed"

"thank god," you giggle softly as you close your eyes and let yourself relax in his hold. Finally you would get a night of restful sleep with Dick with you. He worked so hard and so often it sometimes made night restless, sometimes leading to you staying up late waiting for him.

Now for a peaceful, restful night sleep.

....

At least that's what you thought until the neighbors started making noise. Now this wasn't just any noise, but a moan. A loud one at that

"..Dick?" you check if he is asleep

"Yeah....."

"they're um....pretty loud aren't they?"

"Mhm..."

You spoke awkwardly as the moans grow louder and then came the wall thumping. Oh lord your neighbors were having sex and you were both just taking it all in at 12 AM. Your first thought would be to simply block it out, turn on the tv or just wait for them to stop. However you were dating Dick Grayson, the same man who keep Bludhaven safe is the same one who offers,

"Wanna fuck louder than them to assert dominance?" He said with his signature cocky smile

Of course you start laughing because what kind of outrageous idea would that be? “ you’re not actually serious.”

He doesn’t say a word as he just raises an eyebrow at you “oh I’m seriously sweetheart,” he climbs over you and pin your wrists above your head on the pillow “deadly serious,” he said in a low voice coming down closer to your ear.

"And how do you know we'll be louder? Ah!" he nipped at your neck making you giggle and squirm

"Oh come on, you think I don't know you well enough to make you scream?" he chuckled as you feel his hands run under your shirt and cup your breasts. His thumb ran over your hardened nipple "mmm looks like I'm on the right track hm?"

You can feel him smiling against the skin of you neck. He moves down to your breast leaving a kiss on your nipple. Sticking his tongue out to flick at the bud, your fingers coming up to run through the roots of his hair.

"Mmm dick..." moving from your nipple he moves down, tracing his tongue along your skin. Coming down to your naval where he places a kiss just under the area, his calloused hands drag down your bottoms as his lips continue their journey. You could help but squirm a bit, knowing exactly what you wanted

"You need me here don't you princess?" he smirks placing a kiss to your mound "need me to make you feel good?"

"Y-yes...." you shiver with anticipation; your knees being hoisted on to his shoulders as his blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. With his sly smirk he lowers his head and you feel a slow, warm lick up your slit that made you sigh deeply. You can feel every lap, every moan he let out as he pleased you. Your taste was addicting, it made him hungry for more. His tongue lays flat as a long lick starting from the bottom and trailing up to your clit where he flicks the bulb, and sucks it into his mouth,

"Ah~" your back arches, pushing your hips into his face more to which he gladly welcomed. You hear a low growl as his hands move to the back of your knees and push them towards you, spreading you open for him. He wanted you--needed you to scream. Let them know just how good he pleases you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips glistening with your juices. He was panting slightly with the damn smirk again

"Dick...please..." you hated when he would just stop in the middle of things, leaving you aching and needy.

"Don't worry princess I've got ya'. Just need one out of you before I give you what you want," his middle and rings finger rim around your aching pussy. Taking just a couple of seconds before he plunges them in to the hilt. Your back arching, finally savoring that stretch that you were aching for.

His tongue and lips find their way back to your clit. He laps and sucks at the bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of you. You throw your head back as your mom‘s grow louder and more erotic. Now was when the competition against your neighbors really started your hips start to book and ride his fingers wanting more and more of him. You wanted that euphoria that burst of release around his fingers and on his face.

Your fingers tangled into the dark dresses of his head, pulling him closer to your pussy. Your toes curl as you can feel the tightening in your stomach growing tighter and tighter until finally,

“Ah~!” a nice loud moan. High and pitch and just loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Just how he likes it he laps up your juices and pulls his fingers out gently. You throb and ache around nothing as you pant. He brings those same fingers to his lips and cleans them off with his tongue. Oh how he loved to see your face flush like that. After a strong orgasm the way, your cheeks flush and your eyes become glassy, knowing that he was the one who did that to you.

But he wasn’t done,

“Alright, princess, flip over. Want to see that nice ass,” he says as he strips himself of his clothes, leaving you exposed to his muscular body. Some faint scars adorn certain surfaces of his body, but they only made him more attractive. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly turn over onto your stomach and raise your ass up towards him. Almost teasingly, you shake your hips a bit, letting the flesh and muscle jiggle in front of him. You knew how to get him aroused, and this was definitely one of those moments. His hands find your hips as they smooth over the flesh of your ass. The gentle caress is followed by a sharp spank to it, making you shriek at the contact.

“Oh, come on, Princess. I know you’re louder than that,” another spank came, and you made sure to make it sound just a bit more pornographic when you moaned as his hand struck your flesh. “Atta girl,”

His fingers grip at a first full of hair at the base of your neck and pulls slightly, as the head of his cock teases at you. Skipping just the head in and pulling back out making you whine.

“Come on baby ask for what you want,” he pulls out waiting to hear this magic words.

“P-please?” You ask giving you some inches but not completely

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me Grayson…” a smirk farces his face as he pulls out once more and bottoms out all at once making him groan and you let out a moan. He gets into a steady rhythm, the bed frame starting to rock every now and then

“Fuck…so tight…so wet for me…” *he moans lowly, as he watches your ass jiggle with every thrust that meets his hips. Slowly but surely he can hear you starting to drown out your neighbors. soon enough, the only thing that he can focus on was the sound of your headboard, thumping against the wall and your moans filling his ears. His favorite combination of sounds right after his favorite band.

His hand moves to the back of your neck and pushes you down into the mattress as his thrusts become deeper, needier. The sound of skin slapping against skin fill your ears as Dick dominated you in the best way. At this rate, both your upstairs and downstairs Neighbor will probably give you a nice complaint.

“Ah! Ah! Dick! Fuck! S-so close~” you moan feeling that knot in your stomach again. Your eyes starting to roll back. You couldn’t help your hips, starting to move back against him, wanting more and more!

“Y-yeah Princess? Cum…cum for me! Come on this cock baby,” he groans loudly as he ounces into you, feeling your walls clench around him, bring him closer and closer to filling you to the brim.

The bed thumped, you both moaned and whined until his hips come to a stutter and he dumps himself into you. Your moans becoming whines as you both ride out your highs. Your slick walls pulsing around him, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you. Roles of silk filling you to the very hilt. Reducing both of you to panting messes.

He pulls out of you, a whine coming from your tired lips. He leans down and kisses your shoulder with a little chuckle

“Think they got the message?” Another kiss to your temple as he plops down next to you, moving some hair out of your face

“Well,” you both listen for a moment “…seems like we beat em,” you both give a celebratory high five knowing you may have been a bit too loud, but hey you had a great time.

“Now how about another shower before bed?” He offered

“Absolutely,”

-🧚🏼

🌙taglist;

[smutinlove]

college dick grayson if u may.. 🤭🤭

knowing dick in canon idt he would really be those playboy, snarky types but it’s always fun to see his characterisation that way!! what’s ur take on it??

dick grayson being a snarky ass motherfucker in college is BIBLICALLY accurate. thank you, anon.

•this motherfucker is hot and he knows it. he'll use it to his advantage too. oh, he forgot his wallet? he'll flirt his way to making sure it's on the house. commit murder? he'll flash a smile and say, "so, officer..." followed by one tear.

•ugh, dick gets girls. (and boys) he loves his redheads. but he also knows how to lose them. but eventually he'll get 'em back. eventually...

•i feel like dick would smoke weed in college. but he'd also be one of those, "in bed by 10" kinds of people. and i'm living for it.

•dick knows how to have a good time and he DEFINITELY can show you a great time. he'll drink a bunch of beer, smoke a lot of weed, will overstimulate you, and then ask you why you're tired.

•i feel like he'd fuck to sexy red and cry to taylor swift.

•he's funny as hell. mans will be balls deep inside you and then say something that has you dying.

•i feel like dick would be a stripper if he wasn't nightwing. like he has the moves. i'd let him do the most atrocious things to me.

•dick would probably major in business, humanities, bigassology, psychology, or redheads. or maybe all five.

•people like to characterize the fact that only alfred and jason can cook but that is WRONG. dick can definitely cook. i mean, come on, he has a whole BAKERY back there. he can cook. this man will whip you a whole god damn 5 course meal and y'all saying he can't cook?

•he uses the bunk beds in his dorm as a swing.

•dick grayson breaks hearts and enjoys it. (he can break this heart AND pussy and i'd thank him.) he will flirt with every guy and girl on this planet and say, "no strings attached, sorry not sorry, bbg."

•he listens to doja cat religiously. going for a run? doja cat. fucking someone? doja cat + sexy red. it's wild. he's even wilder in bed though.

i love dick grayson

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | sexual content l face fuck mention | cum in eyes at the implied request of reader and facial | mild degradation | size difference.

DICK GRAYSON wouldn’t say he’s a closet freak. In fact, he prefers to be described as someone who’s “down for anything.” A sense of adventure belongs in sex, in his opinion, so anything spontaneous is appreciated. Surprises you spring on him, requests you make of him, anything is all fair game in the sack. So when you ask a particularly disgusting demand, how can he refuse?

“Please, Dickie? C’mon. C’mon, Dickie, please. Do it, do it.” Your signature source of rambled begging fills his ears as you sink further onto the floor, your freshly fucked face is colored and fluid stained. You’ve never looked more beautiful. Of course he can’t say no.

“Open your fucking eyes, baby, lemme see those pretty eyes.” he tells you, tone husky and breathless from all his effort. A sheen of sweat percolates to a drip down his skin, every muscle flexed as he pumps his achy length faithfully. His endurance is next level, but at your request he’s at risk for busting before you do as he asks.

Enthusiastically, you widen your eyes, holding that intense eye contact as his cock hangs over you, jacking himself off. “I want it so bad,” you whine, bouncing impatiently in place. You end the phrase by dropping your jaw, and drawing out your tongue formed in a cup.

“You ready? Huh, baby? Here it comes. Oh, fuck.” As he speaks, hot spurts of cum shoot out from his blushing tip, and his grip practically strangles it at the sight of your gorgeous features coated in his finish. Like a good girl, you kept that eye contact, lashes fluttering marginally as the whites of your eyes redden from cum brushing them. His large hand grabs the back of your head, fisting locks of your hair as he yanks you closer to catch the pearls of cum that’s lost momentum. It dribbles onto the end of your tongue, sliding down your chin. “Fuck, baby, kept your eyes open and everything? You little freak.”

[beautysamour]

cock warming dick grayson ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

— a/n: i hear purring but i don’t have a pet cat.

warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: descriptive language, sub dick grayson because yes

Dick hums as he presses kisses at the top of your shoulder, his hands teasingly tugging the back of your shirt as you clench around his dick.

You can’t see his face but you can hear him, every noise his openly makes and the ones he tries to muffle but can’t.

You lean back, your back hitting his chest treating him much like a chair as you use one of your fingers the trail up the vein on his dick. He softly grunts yet it rings loudly in your ears.

“You alright baby?”

He pathetically mewls as your pussy throbs around him, he drops his head on your left shoulder and breathily inhales when you adjust yourself by lifting yourself up then dropping yourself all the way down on his dick.

The wetness of your cunt rings loudly in his ears. He breathily exhales thinking he could speak without stumbling over his words—but the attempt is futile when you lift yourself up again, almost completely off his dick. You turn around in his lap, your pussy circling around his tip and he throws his head back as he bites his lip to muffle the otherwise neighbor-hearing worthy moan.

“Aw,” you coo as his hands immediately start pawing at your breasts, “I asked you a question baby, are you alright?”

You look down at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes are closed undoubtedly too distracted at the way you clench your pussy and drag your finger nails up and down his chest, never missing his nipples.

“I—I’m,” he breaths turned erratic as you lay yourself on his chest, still sitting up but your head is on his left tit. Your fingers trail down to where your pussy is, his dick completely hidden by it, and you draw wet circles.

He can’t focus. His eyes are shut, head still hanging back, and his neck completely vulnerable to you to attack. He doesn’t care though, all he wants is to be good for you and give you a response, no matter how broken it’ll sound.

“I’m,” he tries again, his dick twitching inside of you, “ge—grea—grea—great.” You start sucking on that sweet spot on his neck and his eyes roll to the back of his head with a twitchy thrust up directly hitting your g-spot.

You moan against his neck, “Dick,” you tightly squeeze around him, “I’ve already told you to stop moving.”

He jerks his head back up when he feels your pussy cover less and less of his dick, his hands gripping on to your hips. You raise a brow looking down at him as you kneel over him, feigning disappointment as he tries to keep his tip inside of you because even that would be enough instead of not being in you at all.

“‘m sorry,” he mewls, “I promise— I promise I won’t move again, just please, please stay on me, ‘like how you feel, please, please, please—“

You shove two fingers covered with your own wetness into his mouth shutting him up. He looks at you with stupid confused eyes and then sucks obediently, his tongue swirling around your middle finger.

He arches his back, his mouth falling open to let out a loud groan when you take in his entire dick again, all your weight resting on his thighs.

You remove your fingers from his mouth and shove your underwear into his mouth as a gag instead, “Ok, ok. I hear you pretty boy, my pretty boy.”

Dick immediately sucks on your underwear trying to suck out as much of your wetness as he could, his eyes locked on your breasts. It was pathetic but you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight.

You caress his cheek, a small feigning innocence smile on your face and bring a hand to the back of his neck, “Pretty, pretty boy,” you coo. You push his head and he lets himself follow easily, he eyes flutter shut when you tuck in him into the valley of your breasts.

You run your clean hand through his hair. He nuzzles his face deeper and a muffled moan leaves his throat as you wrap your legs around his waist forcing his cock deeper into your warm, comfy, pussy. <3

[dxckgrxsonx]

Just be Quiet

Pairing - Dick Grayson x (F) Reader

Words - 0.6k

Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Mean!Dick - Forced Quiet Sex - Kinda Public Sex - A little bit of Name Calling (Disgusting, Pathetic, Crybaby) - Crying - Swearing

Notes - Um hi. Let's ignore the fact I was supposed to post this last week. I drank a little too much wine, passed tf out, and then work kicked my whole ass. I simply do not vibe with being employed smh.

MASTERLIST

**

“Be quiet.” Dick snaps, his voice bordering on the lethal edge of an order and not a request. Your skin positively bristles when he shoves his hand over your mouth to muffle the desperate, involuntary noises escaping from between your chattering teeth and he growls, thoroughly fed up with your shit. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Your thighs tremble, trapped between Dick’s firm, unyielding body and the wall. He snaps his hips forwards, forcing the full length of him into your weeping cunt with one stroke and your eyes roll straight back into your skull, body shuddering through the stretch.

“Don’t you make a fuckin’ sound.” He demands when you inhale, words vibrating in your throat, chest aching with how much you want to moan and whimper. Forcing your thighs wider with his knee he drags his cock almost all the way out before sinking back into your soaked pussy. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? I tell you not to make a sound and here you are, whining through my fingers like a brat.”

You didn't even notice you were moaning and keening and whimpering loud enough for him to hear–but you are–and it makes Dick ground out your name in a low, dangerous snarl.

It's a warning.

“I can’t fuck–I can’t help it!” You try, nearly in tears from the effort it takes to stay quiet for him. Your words are muffled against his palm and a particularly harsh thrust has you gasping his name, a long, drawn out whine chasing. “S’too good.”

Dick kisses the back of your neck then moves so he can speak directly into your ear.

“Yes you can. You’re just doing this on purpose to piss me off. Why won’t you be fucking quiet?!” Fucking into you at a rougher pace you can’t stop the desperate little noises from slipping through his fingers. “It’s almost like you want people to know I’m fucking you. Is that what it is? You want everyone to know you’re a desperate whore who likes being fucked where anyone could see you? You’re disgusting.”

Your body tries to flinch away from his punishing pace but Dick tuts disapprovingly and presses you even more firmly against the wall with his strong hips; forcing you to take every rough stroke and scathing comment from his smart mouth. He nudges your thighs apart again when you try to close them and your pussy throbs and creams against the base of his cock in desperation.

Dick scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth against your neck and you can feel the smirk pressing at his lips.

“I can feel you squeezin’ at me.” He says, sinking balls deep into your cunt and stopping just to feel you convulse around him. “You like being fucked by your Team Leader, huh? With the way you act, it’s no surprise you like this. What? You think I don’t notice. You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

Moaning into his hand you blink against the onslaught of tears and Dick feels them slide warm over the backs of his knuckles.

Your pussy is aching.

“Oh fuck. Are you crying right now?” He grunts, cock swelling and twitching inside you. “I can’t believe how sensitive you are.”

“Please!” You beg, sniffling and trying to stop yourself from crying. “Dick–plea–stop being so mean to me.”

“No.” He replies, pressing his hand over your mouth even harder so every word is barely audible. “We’re not stopping until you’re dripping with my come. And you better be fucking silent, do you hear me? My poor little crybaby. I want you to be a good girl for once and shut the fuck up because if you think I'm being mean to you now, you're in for a shock if you can't follow simple orders.”

**

The post that inspired this is -

[mariswxts]

———————————————————FRAT.ᐟDICK THOUGHTS ᝰ.ᐣ

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, LADY KILLER AHEAD.ᐟ

You're fixated on Dick's oral fixation. You'd known him since you were kids, he'd always be running his mouth with backchat to authority figures who weren't Alfred, or humming in awkward silence, or making those beatboxing noises. You name it, he did it.

It extended to his frat boy days, and oh, was that the #1 lady killer at Gotham U. Letterman jacket that matched his hair, not to mention the cherry flavoured lollipop he had permanently jammed in his mouth, rolled over his tongue, between his lips, like a toothpick on steroids but it tasted like cherries— see what he did there? With the cherry thing? No?

Wow, tough crowd.

You couldn’t even concentrate on your work, probably because Dick was sitting across from you — your best friend since childhood — with that damn lollipop, looking pointedly at your neckline as if you were some sort of snack, but that wasn’t new. Everyone was a snack to Dick, and vice versa, because you’d sometimes be dragged to a frat party by him and his mouth’d be interrupted by some random girl for five minutes to suck face.

Though you weren’t surprised, it was feeding his fixation.

Even though you were clearly the studyhead to his frat king, it didn’t stop him from sliding up the bed next to you, taking a peek over your shoulder at your work, a small grin on his face, clearly trying to distract you. “C’mon, sweetheart, m’bored.” He drawled, looking up at the time— what was it?

5:47 in the evening. This’d take ten minutes.

Your stern look did absolutely nothing to get the cheeky look out of his eyes, the cherry lollipop being pulled out of his mouth with a slick pop and he chucked it behind him, landing it in the bin easily. “Just go to a frat party, Dick.” You sighed— as much as you were his best friend, you wanted to actually pass your major, thank you.

“There’re none on.” He smirked, his hand running through his already messy hair before it closed your book and pushed it aside, and then he dropped the question. “Make out with me.”

Holy shit, what?

Next thing you knew, his hand was on your cheek and he was kissing you, pressing himself up against you, yanking off his jacket and throwing it aside— why were you undoing your shirt? He wasn’t even helping you, it was just how his soft lips pressed against yours eagerly and turned you into a slut for him in half a second, which he endorsed by kissing the valley of your tits.

One second, two, three and his lips were on your inner thighs, your head thrown back the moment his tongue licked a straight stripe up your pussy and your hand buried itself in his hair.

He was sucking your clit by 5:57.

“Fuck, Dickie—” Fuck him and his oral fixation.

@aliyahwritings @svnriseblvdd @faiszt here’s brainfood

[sassatoru]

Congratulations for the 2k followers! I'm so happy for you 🥳

Is it alright if I ordered hydrangea (dick grayson) with lace please? The message would be Dick loving the reader even if she's on the frail side (I never read any thin!reader before, only plus size). I'd love to read your work on this. Thank youuu 😘

this one actually hits me hard bc i have to deal with this too. so its kinda a fic for me too

dick grayson who’s grin is wide when he sees you, there’s a skip to his walk as he comes to your side, he doesn’t mind that you’re small. it gives him another reason to take care of you.

dick grayson who understands that its not your fault that you’re so small. he won’t try and force you to eat, sometimes people are just like that. small and frail, but no less loveable.

dick grayson who hates when people comment on your body. just because its someone else’s desired body doesn’t mean its what you want.

dick grayson who loves that he has to be more careful with you. you’re not sickly thin, just thin enough that he has to be a little more careful, because he’s purely lean muscle.

dick grayson who doesn’t treat you like you’re something that needs to be looked after. he knows you’re capable.

dick grayson who will fuck you until you realise he doesn’t care about the size of your body, doesn’t care that your breasts might be small or your thighs are as thick as his.

dick grayson who loves on you like no other. he’ll give it to you however you want.

dick grayson who stares at you like a confused puppy when you admit that you’re ashamed of how frail you are.

dick grayson who fumes at the comments you get from your parents/family, telling you that you need to eat more. don’t they understand that it doesn’t work like that?

dick grayson who holds you when you cry that same night, you’ve always been told the same thing, why couldn’t they just accept you?

dick grayson who will love you regardless of your body. he loves you, he’s not here for your body.

dick grayson who loves you, mind, body and soul.

[roturo]

Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader

→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...

words: 2k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.

Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.

You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.

Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.

¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.

God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.

¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨

¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.

With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.

¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?¨

Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.

¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨

Number two? He WISHES.

¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨

That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.

You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.

“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”

“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”

It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.

“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.

That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.

After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.

You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.

Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.

When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?

He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.

¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.

¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.

You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!

¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.

You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.

¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.

¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.

¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.

¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨

That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.

He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.

¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨

All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.

“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.

“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.

“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.”  He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.

With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.

“O-Okay.”  Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.

His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨

He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.

¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨

That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.

¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.

¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨

You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨

He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.

¨I love you.¨

¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨