#robin🐦

[neetily]

Kinktober 2024 — Imaginary Best Friend Robin

— ✧ pairing: M!Robin / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 7,102 — ✧ warnings: dubcon, imaginary friend, manipulation, breakup, ex boyfriend (role-play), shapeshifting, creampie — ✧ synopsis: hey, i know that it's been a while since we hung out, but i miss you. and you've really left me no other choice at this point...

— ✧ A/N: ONCE AGAIN I APOLOGISE FOR BEING LATE. and i thank you all for your patience, again. the winter blues killed me, but i finally got through this and hope you all enjoy... even the robin haters that follow me x finally. kinktober has ended <3...

— ✧ kinktober masterlist

Existence comes to him suddenly and all at once, like an abrupt eruption spilling out from the recesses of your weary mind— and it’s immediately disorienting. The once dormant volcano of his life pulled into awakened with a promise, shifting under the oppressive weight and pressure that real life provides. It’s a bit jarring at first, as if being reborn into something new, someone new, prompting him into blinking a few times to rid the obscuring bright lights that intrude upon his fresh new mind for a moments breather. And it aches too, just a little, to greet the immediate upset that life has thrown at you; and by extension, himself. Seeping into his own body like it’s supposed to, because at the end of the day, he is you, isn’t he?

But as always, you remain blinding to him regardless. A stark contrast to his usual life in the dark, he cant help but to want to be more like you. Or, is it that he wants more of you? He never did answer that question in his loneliness.

A light in the pitch black, gentle hope where none is to ordinarily be found. It’s frustrating just how much he has to rely on you simply to exist, tugging on the edges of your mind every now and then to remind you of his simple validity, of his sole reason for living. But alas. It’s difficult not to dislike you, despite your abandonment… As if he was borne out of the self criticism you’ve given yourself over the years. A deeply burrowed yearning for something more, to become bigger and better than you’ve thus allowed him to be.

And he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. Seething to himself in silence when you’d all but forgotten about him. And now that you need some help, you come seeking him? Out of everybody you could have reached out to, no one does it better than him, right?

Well, he’s not about to let you squander this prime opportunity by pushing back against him again. Not this time, not ever again.

Silence fills the empty space left between himself and you, or you and himself— it’s hard to discern where he begins and you end when you’re one in the same and he hasn’t been allowed to stretch his limbs for himself in what feels like an eternity. He knows that he needn’t use verbal speech to communicate with you, what with the fact that he usually resides within your mind space anyway and can talk just fine through thoughts alone. But tonight feels like a special occasion, doesn’t it? A shared understand of something brewing deep beneath the surface, a sharp edge to what once was soft eyes and childish giggles.

He’s grow up right alongside you too, y’know.

“Hi.” He eventually smiles, deceptively warm in his wanting to appear still yet friendly, even after your adulthood abandonment. Couldn’t stay away from him for too long, could you? Not when life has got you down, and nobody else is willing to stand up for you except your long time best friend Robin. As it always has been, and should be, as far as he’s concerned. “Long time no see.”

Silence once again occupies the room, and he takes the brief moment to focus in on all of the changes you’ve made since he was last perched upon your bed like this, since it’s been so long. All the new decorations, posters, trinkets, everything new that you’ve accumulated during his forceful absence… And, the new sheets that you’re currently balled up into are pretty too, like they’d protect you from all the bad in the world.

Silly, that’s what he’s for, right?

But when you fail to come out from hiding, no doubt afraid of the sudden deeper voice booming in your small private space, he lets out a friendly enough chuckle as a means to disarm you. Something endearing, something that’ll clue you in to exactly who he is so as to not scare you any further. Because he’d never truly wish to terrify you, even if he thinks you’re just so cute when asking him for help.

“You’ve changed a lot…” he trails off in genuine thought, humming to himself at the sight of all the new colours and textures and smells that surround him. “F-for the better, I mean!” he’s quick to reassure you, stuttering over his own words through how little his voice has been in use as of late, coughing to clear his nervousness when he feels your weight shift from under those safety blankets. Just a small shuffle, uncertainty present in the way you still yet remain hidden from his eager eyes.

C’mon, it’s been so long… Lemme see yo. Didn’t you wanna see me? Isn’t that the sole reason I’m here? C’mon, just a little more, promise to play nice…

Unsure of how long he’s got in your presence before you decide to shut him out for good again, or until you decide you need a well rested break with your good pal Robin, he decides to continue the conversation with or without you. Sighing briefly to himself to relieve some built up tension before tugging on your sheets absentmindedly. He can feel how nervous you are to meet him again— perhaps a little guilty too, right?

“Don’t you recognise me?”

There’s a twinge of pain to his words, hidden amongst the giddy excitement that’s difficult to quell upon seeing his bestie after such a long and lonely break. You did miss him, right? Though surely not as much as he missed you, evident from the way he practically shakes before you, unable to fully hide his true intentions despite the playful sadness that taints his voice. Its just that it’s been so long since he last saw you, and at the end of the day, he can do naught else but be thankful for the sole reason behind his existence.

It’s so good to see you again, even if you’re acting rather shy. He’s always been the best at entertaining you, especially throughout childhood when you had no one else to call friend.

And he deserves a little more respect for spending all that time in isolation, don’t you think?

“It’s me,” he tries again, smiling kindly through his words though you may not see it— it just comes so naturally to him regarding you. The niceties and hesitation. “We used to play together all the time, remember?” Emphasis on the all, because God… not a day went by when you were younger that he wasn’t by your side, too. Experiencing life with you, helping you through rough and tough times, and celebrating its victories right alongside you. There’s simply no way you could have truly forgotten all about him… right?

Of course not. Because all it takes is a brief pause, a shared held breath of confusion and interest all in the same, for you to realise your mistake and greet your old friend in kind with a rather small sounding little “… Robin?”

It’s enough, he thinks to himself. Affection welling in his heart at the meek tone you adopt, the sound of his name falling from your pretty hidden lips prompting his grin to widen and hurt his cheeks. Your uncertain nature is familiar to him, a home comfort after so long apart. You always were a shy little thing, which is why you likely made him in the first place.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s me, don’t you wanna play again? That’s why I’m here, right?”

He can sense your apprehension, though he’s not sure if it’s borne mostly out of fear from having him manifest by your side like how he used to when you were a kid, or because you feel unable to let go of things now that you’re older. As if you shouldn’t be relying on him so much, when that’s quite literally all he was borne to do. And, quite frankly, it’s all he ever wants to do— maybe even a little more, now that he’s as old as you are now. He can do so much more for you, if only you’d reach out for him more often.

He wonders if you think he’s grown up well too. Take a peek.

He doesn’t want to scare you off too much though, not yet… you’re still a little vulnerable, he understands. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t have suddenly re-appeared in your life, right? He’s gotta take his time, treat you with patience and care; right before taking exactly what he wants, that is.

So, ever so softly, he tuts down at you with loving intent. A gentle sound meant to coax you out, as you have so tenderly done so with him. Even his voice, after he takes a moment to allow you space, is as soft as ever. A taunt, maybe.

“Dont’cha wanna come out of hiding?” he prompts you, poking the lump under your sheets as lightly as he can, but he can’t stifle the light giggle that escapes him when you stiffen up in response. “I only wanna help you, promise…”

That’s it, just a small amount of manipulation, enough to have you wiggling under the sheets some more only to poke your head out from under them. And oh, what a pretty sight that immediately greets him, his chest instantly tightening with the grip you have on him— you’ve grown up very well, he suddenly decides. His heart racing at the mere sneak peek you’ve allowed him thus far, like he was a little kid all over again. He knew that all this waiting around in the dark abyss of your mind would be worth something, and he’s happy to see that he was right upon viewing your pretty face again.

Perhaps too much so, given the way he has to move around to hide his ill-intentioned love. Tugging on his jumper idly to obfuscate between his legs from your view.

“I— I mean… It’s been so long…” you almost whimper, like you’re afraid to admit your neglect so openly and honestly. Though there’s really no need, he’s here now, and that’s what matters most, right?

“It has been a while, huh?” he smiles down at you, a genuine show of his joy from finally, after all those long years alone, getting to see you and hear you again. He’s fucking missed you, and it suddenly hits him all at once as a lump grows big in his throat. Of which he does his best to swallow, for there are far more important matters to attend to tonight that don’t include bawling his eyes out in sheer bliss from being by your side again. There’s gonna be time to sob and reminisce together soon enough— but he wants to have his fun tonight. “I think we both look a bit different since we last hung out…” he inspects himself with curiosity, “D’ya think you could come out a little more? Wanna greet my old friend right!”

There’s no guilt to be had in sweet talking you out like this, because you always were a shy one. You’d get nowhere in life if not for a little prodding! So you should be thankful that he’s back again, ready to give you the little shove you need to fall off the ledge and onto his lap.

Eventually.

He wants to ease you into him again, warm you up a little, as it were. Disallowing you the opportunity to respond to his teasing by talking before you get the chance to reply, distracting you with meaningless small talk as he grows closer to your huddled form one slow inch at a time.

“Oh! Do you still have that console we use to game on all the time? I don’t remember the last time I played with you…” he trails off in thought, doing his best to recollect exactly when the last time you called upon him for some late night gaming together, and yet all he turns up is empty.

And you seem to pick up on his frustrated state, letting the sheets fall from your pretty body with a pitying gasp. “Robin,” you regard him with utter sympathy, showing your soft underside to his wanting teeth. “I’m— God, I’m so sorry— Y’know, that I, uh… I mean, it’s good to see you again, and…”

Bingo. Got you right where he wants you, pliant and begging for his forgiveness. It’s when you’re most malleable— no one knows you better than yourself, or in this case, himself, and so it’s easy to play your own worst qualities against you when you’re such a soft little idiot. Because he has all those issues too; he’s just spent enough time in solitary confinement to learn how to quell the need to please most of all.

And yet still, he yearns to earn your affections. Tutting down at you softly, as if consoling a child. Dirty words clinging to the tip of his tongue that he sucks back against his teeth, unable to meet your gaze the whole way as his eyes flutter shut to the sight of your furrowed brows and clutching bed sheet fists. You’re cute. Too cute for your own good, really.

Maybe the time spent away from you was necessary after all, allowing him ample opportunity to grow strong against your charms in the meantime.

“Shh, shh,” he hushes you gently, cooing towards you as he shuffles closer still, until his face is right before your own and he can press his forehead against your own in a loving gesture of trust. A misplaced gesture, but an attempt nonetheless to save face before he follows through on his long time coming plans for you. He’s been patient thus far, so he sure he can hold off for a little longer— in spite of the way his pants grow tighter the longer you pout up at him so prettily, fuck. Like you’re doing it on purpose, right? “It’s okay, promise,” he lets his breath fan across your face, hot and heavy to serve as a reminder that he’s very much real and alive and right next to you right now, lest you forget the very real threat he currently presents. That, and it’s exciting, is it not? To finally meet again after all those long years… “I’m glad you were doing well enough to not need me, if anything!”

Because he only shows up when you truly need him, right? When you’re all alone, lost and confused in the big scary world known as reality. At least you know that he will always be right there and waiting patiently for you to rely on him again, your best friend since childhood, right?

Though, when he picks up on the fact that you’re not so convinced of his genuine feelings for you, and that he’d never want you to feel sorry for him under any circumstances, he takes the opportunity to butter you up some more. Just a little foreplay before the main event, nursing his growing erection by pulling your dropped bed sheets over his own lap so that he has selfish access to more of your grown up body. Pretty and grown— just like him, right? Maybe that little shy eyelash flutter you send his way is the sudden realisation that he’s not some young boy anymore either, no more a child than you are in this moment. And he’s awfully close to you just now, isn’t he? Flustering you up with his sweet words and kind gestures…

“Now c’mon, less of the pity party and more of the telling me what’s wrong. It’s why I’m here, right?” He offers you, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands so as to steal your undivided attention with a soft, albeit cheeky, smile. Because he knows exactly what he’s doing to you right now, and he needn’t notice the slight pink that now taints your cheeks to intrinsically understand that he’s getting under your skin. Almost as if… you can tell that he wants you, without him needing to explicitly state as much.

Which would make sense, given that he only exists as an extension of yourself. But this song and dance is fun in its own right too, a game of cat and mouse. Cops and robbers. He wonders who will break first.

And he prays that it’ll be you.

Just a little more prompting, and he’s sure your nervous shakes will stop. Removing his forehead from your own just to drink up the sight of the unsure expression your wear when regarding him, lips slightly apart as if you want to admit truth to him, but have yet to let your defences down enough to allow him entry. That’s okay, he’ll worm his way inside soon enough. And besides, you look real fucking pretty when staring back at him with such a dumb expression.

“Y’know,” he releases his hold of your cheeks too, instead allowing one hand to rest on your thigh and the other to travel feather light up and down your exposed arm. It’s the little things, at the end of the day, that’ll have your legs opening for him. And he’s nothing if not thorough in his understanding of your wants, wishes, and needs. And what you need right now is him, correct? “You can always open up to me whenever— no judgement! I’m your best friend after all.” He’s kind enough to remind you, smiling through the thinly veiled manipulation as his touch prompts you into shivering against his fingertips, something that he wholly welcomes with open arms, because he knows that his sweetening up of you is working. Soon, he’ll have you right where he wants you, and—

You interrupt his train of thought with a heavy sigh. Deep and slow, as if steadying yourself for something. And he briefly wonders if you’ve caught on to his true intentions, but the way you nervously look around the room before biting down on your bottom lip tells him otherwise.

You’re nervous. Not because of him, not with the way you melt into his warm touch, right? No, it’s because—

“We broke up.”

Riiiiiight, you were seeing someone new, weren’t you? He can’t quite recall just how long ago, or what he looked like, or what his name was. Something... blonde, right? More bite than bark, but definitely a lot of bark, too. He has vague memories of disliking him, pounding against the edges of your mind to be let free, to show you exactly how you deserve to be treated, and yet… well, he’s just glad that you’re all alone now. Caught under the covers with that pretty puppy look you wear oh so well, begging for him. Not your ex, or any other random man he’s sure you could pull from the streets— but him. His forgiveness and help, yeah? Oh, you poor thing… your ex must have really gotten under your skin to leave you resorting to him now, pawing eagerly at your old best friend for some well worn comfort in such trying times.

But Robin can hardly blame the guy for ruining you. He’d like to do the same, ultimately. And he’s about to, after a little more consoling. Gotta get you in the right mindset for it, warm you up to his needy touch and leering eyes before finally taking what he rightfully deserves. Keeping his touch as light as possible on your shivering skin, if only to allow you the space to continue opening up to him.

It’s for your own good, he muses to himself.

“It, uh… Yeah, it’s been weighing on me, I think…” you mutter, mumbling to yourself at the end as if you were ashamed of how much some idiot has you feeling down, but this is a reason to celebrate, no? Now you should have no qualms with his advances, a sly smile tugging on his lips at the sound of your misfortune.

“Ah,” he hums down at you in faux thought, taking a moment or two not because he has to be careful with his words, but instead to show you a false sense of care. An attempt to hide just how thankful he is to learn of your troubles, when he really can’t think of anything better right now. “I see… So, you need some cheering up?” He prompts you, dropping both his hands down to your thighs with a soft squeeze, and the way you jolt a little in response does nothing to dissuade him. If anything, it only strengthens his resolve to softly open you from the inside out. Leave his hands marked over every inch of you so that you can never forget about him ever again, letting his nails bite into you just a little, the smallest amount, as a silent threat. A dare, even. Dare you to try and leave me again.

“R-right…” you stutter, and he can hear the physical gulp you make when he meets your gaze with a smitten smile. That’s it, he thinks to himself. That’s all the consent he needs, really. Just a spark, because he knows you so well, doesn’t he? The best, even. A conjuration of your own imagination, only now in the flesh. Touching you, letting his hands roam up and down from your knee to almost your inner thigh— he hasn’t crossed the unspoken boundary yet, has he?

“Just, um… Robin—” you whisper his name, and he can’t wait to hear it falling from your lips later tonight. Hopefully louder, and more fraught with need, as opposed to with confusion and worry.

“Yes?” He replies simply, far more focused on how soft and squishy your thighs feel under his lecherous touch, biting down on his tongue to withhold the sinful compliments he wants to spill, because he doesn’t want to scare you off when he’s already came this far.

“Could— can you maybe wait a bit?”

“For what?”

“Um…” he knows exactly what you want to ask for, but he’s not gonna feed you the answers on a silver platter. Cocking an eyebrow up at you when you struggle to get your words out, making it ever difficult for you as his hands finally settle on your inner thighs and you’re forced into squeaking in response. “T—This,” you motion to your thighs, tenderly covering his hands with your own in such an affectionate manner that he can’t help but to gasp in response, you fucking tease. “Can we, uh…”

“Look,” he steals the moment away from you, pouncing on your inability to stand up for yourself—just look at your ex boyfriend, God—taking the opportunity to force himself further against you. Enough to have your body leaning back against the bed headboard with his hands nestled neatly at either side of your lap. He has to stretch some to properly hover over you, but it’s so worth it given the way you stare back at him all dewy and doe eyed. His tone is low and rough when he speaks, “I just wanna make you feel better. Look after an old friend, right?” He nods down at you, insinuating something he’s sure is clear on your mind when your lip wobbles in response, and yet still, you hesitate. And for as frustrating as it is to see you so unsure of yourself, of him, he can’t deny that it’s exciting to chase after you like this. Mimicking your pretty pout when you mull over his words silently, huffing and puffing to yourself as if it were even a question.

It wasn’t, by the way. You don’t have a choice in this matter, silly little lamb. It was your mistake to seek his help again. Your mistake to leave him unattended for so long.

It’s not up to you to decide how he helps you now.

“That’s all, promise.” He does his best to reassure you, but the twitch in his pants at the mere position he’s in betrays him. If you can even see it, that is. Cock angled down towards your cunt as your gaze struggles to remain on his own, wandering around your room as if doing so would somehow help you escape, or make him disappear.

But he’d never leave a poor friend in need! No, you taught him so much better than that! Squeezing at your thigh a few more times before lowering his head to rest in the crook of your neck for a deep, selfish inhale of your scent. Something he’d innocently wanted to do just to sniff how much you’ve grown, but it only serves to have him gasping for air and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull once your smell engulfs him whole and he realises just how close he is to obtaining everything he’s ever wanted.

“Thanks.” He whispers genuinely against the shell of your ear, making sure his hot breath makes you all hot and bothered with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

And he means it, even as you further freeze when he pulls back only to  ‘accidentally’ reveal his erection— it’s getting there, he has the urge to promise you. But nonetheless allows you to sit in stunned silence to gawk at the childhood friend he’s now become. All grown up, resembling more of a man than you’re used to, right?

He’s mid way through taking his shirt off for your viewing pleasure before you find the strength to speak up, and he smiles to himself at the worried tone you carry with your words. Too cute for your own good.

“Is… Do you really think this is a good idea, Robin?”

Oh, you sweet little thing… In some respects, he can understand your ex for toying with you. Playing with such naivety sure is a lot of fun. And the sheer innocence of it all, of the way you’re acting in particular, like you’d expected him to remain the same way he always was when you left him, has him gagging for it. A tight ball curled up in his tummy, a closed throat begging to relay filth. He wants for nothing more than to steal your innocence away, keep it all for himself forever and ever.

Which is why he simply nods down at you, slow and assured, letting out a quiet little mhm before throwing his shirt to the side to hook his thumb under his bottoms idly.

“Can think of nothing better, really,” he answers honestly, through all of the lies and manipulation it’s taken to get here, he’s not about to just leave himself all high and dry simply because you’re feeling unsure. After all, he’s just as much you and you are yourself, and he figures that’s gotta count for at least something. He knows what you like, what you really want, deep down in the pit of your stomach— the things you’re afraid to admit in the mirror. “C’mon, you too.” He prompts urgently, doing his best not to rush you per se, but the thick throb of his cock urges him to continue. Push past your insecurities for the greater good.

He only wants to selfishly make you feel all better again…

When you make no attempt to move and do as he says, he carefully hooks his hands under your shirt to tug it upwards, selectively ignoring your sputters and mumbles because you practically allow him to undress you without much complaint anyway. You always were a meek little pushover, and he’s all too happy to exploit it for his own benefits.

That being the sight of your tits—though still hidden behind your bra—they’re so pretty. Nice and full; he can’t stop himself from tenderly reaching out to give em a quick squeeze to test their softness. And the resulting huff of air you let out has his head spinning, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in horny frustration for how cute you are. Well worth the wait, he instantly decides. Letting his thumb dig under your bra strap enough for it to fall to your side, tickling his way to around your back to one hand unhook the garment with a loving sigh.

He doesn’t mean to move so fast, but the flood is coming, and he’s incapable of stopping it all by himself.

His voice comes out a little raspy when he compliments you, a hushed “Gorgeous…” escaping him at the mere sight of your tits, exhaling heavily when he rolls a nipple between his thumb and finger, and you instinctively arch into his perverted touch. Like your body knows that you want him too, right? Deep down, you yearn just as much as he does.

Evident from the fact that he’s currently undressing completely before you because he doesn’t know how to hold back or wait, stepped off the bed for just a moment to expose himself, cocky confidence present in the way he easily slips back between your legs once naked to toy with the edge of your bottoms absently.

“Robin, I—” your stutters interrupt his self indulgence, but he gives you his full attention anyway. Because he truly does love you, yknow. Would give you the world if he could— hell, he might as well craft you one right here, right? “I’m not so sure if— if this is a good, um… good idea, yknow?”

“Baby…” he coos, rubbing soothing circles against your hips before slowly dragging your bottoms off anyway, keeping them in the same pile of all the other discarded clothing items. “Is it because you’d rather it was someone else?” head tilted to the side with his question, he figured you might need something like this to feel a little more comfortable the first few times he fucks you, so he doesn’t mind accommodating you in the meantime.

You will wish it to be him eventually though, he’s sure of it.

The benefits of being your imaginary friend, located deep in your mind space, is that he can mold this world to his liking— and that includes himself. Waiting for you to blink before switching to the spitting image of your ex boyfriend, cock and all. Reaching down to wag it against your front, a quick few taps against your exposed slit with a sharp intake of air. Though it’s his first time feeling your wet little cunt riding against the tip of his cock, maybe you’ll get on better with the thought of your ex coming back to reconcile with you, yeah?

“Look,” he begs of you, voice a tinge deeper, darker, maybe. One that commands your attention with a low tut— he’ll have you reacting that way to his own voice soon enough, he promises you. “I can be anyone you want me to be,” he sighs softly, forcefully dragging his cock down and pushing it back up with his hand wrapped tight around the base of it, his head hanging low at just how good you feel already for him, slicking him up so well now that he’s pretending to be your ex lover— you fucking loser. “All you gotta do is ask, I can do anything for you in here, just—”

He’s not sure what he wants to say next, stunned into silence given the look of absolute worry you wear when he takes a glance at your pretty face. It has him promptly catching his tip onto your entrance on instinct alone, letting out the softest little moan at the way you instantly twitch for more around him— so you do want him. Or is it because you wanna fuck through the left over feelings from your ex?

Either way, he’s not complaining. He could never, especially not given the way you automatically cling to him, shivering like you were cold despite the warm heat that not only engulfs him, but also from how hot and heavy his cock feels as he pushes inside. No time to wait, God, hasn’t he waited long enough? Holding on to a shared breath for just a moment or two, fucking little humps in and out of you to wet his whole cock sticky until he’s able to rest balls deep in your tight little hole and he can finally exhale.

He just— he doesn’t— God, he’s been waiting so fucking long to feel this exact wetness. Dripping all over him, tightening and constricting his movement to small ins and outs; he doesn’t ever wanna fully leave your hole ever again. Just wants to make you feel good, yeah? Be whoever you need or want him to be. Have you solely rely on him for eternity.

That’s what best friends are for.

For pinning you down by your hips so that he has enough leverage to draw his hips back just enough to leave his tip inside, the resulting tight suck of your cunt just begging to keep your ex’s cock throbbing against your walls is almost too much to bear, his heart stuttering through a few beats when you pout so prettily up at him as if he was being unfair.

When really, you’re the one treating him so unfairly, silly!

Squeezing his tip so well, leaving him struggling for air as he huffs out in an attempt to lift that fuckers blonde bangs out of the way— solely so that he may appreciate how cute you look when he steals you from the inside out. Literally and figuratively, holding you hostage within your own mind so as to have his way with you, and some fun too while he’s at it. He’s got no choice but to slowly roll his hips back into you, a slow in and out for you to once again grow accustomed to the cock that’s been fucking you for a while now—he’s sure not to go too fast, not until he’s able to fuck his own cock inside of you, his own shape—with gentle moans slipping past his tongue in sheer awe of how perfect you feel. Like he always knew you would feel, honestly.

Growing up with you, he’s been privy to details others might not have been. Like the best ways to touch yourself, or what sort of kinks you’ve got, and how much you want. Always wanting, aren’t you? And he’s so willing to give it all to you and more, fuck, you can’t even begin to understand just how badly he wants nothing more than you. You, you, you, babbling something on the end of his cock as he riles himself up into picking up speed, just a little bit— enough to have you once again arching up into him, or into your ex? Fuck, he doesn’t care anymore. Can’t, really, when you sound so fucking sweet under him like that, choking on your words in a mix of pleasure and confusion. You’re so pretty when you’re being so malleable, lulling into his lap as he thrusts in and out exactly how you like.

You’re so easy to use. It’s no wonder you were so easy to abuse, too.

All of his praise gets all choked up when he hears the bed squeak from under him, shaking under the heavy weight of his deliberate thrusts. His convincing fucks, attempting to win you over in spite of his outward appearance— doesn’t he fuck better than him? Better than anyone ever will, hovering above you to make sure you can’t escape his grip, nor his leering gaze, and especially not his throbbing cock. All veiny and fat, pumping at such a rhythm to leave you in a silent plea for more, he assumes. And you’re just gushing around him too, clawing at his arms for any semblance of purchase— or are you trying to push him away? A sly smile appearing on his lips to contrast your open mouthed whines; try as you might, he’s not letting you go for a fucking second.

You just feel too good to stop, really. What was once a perverted dream has now became reality, and he’s physically forced into humping your shape into the sheets below with sheer need, like it’s intrinsic to him to be on top of you, balls slapping against your backside, inevitably fucking you up the bed a little from how eager his thrusts are. “Can’t stop—” he eventually apologises, though it’s not a real sorry from the get go. A platitude at most, because he’d never be sorry about making you sound so pretty, all high pitched and greedy, body begging him for more given the way your hole practically sucks him off with slick. How it drools out of you, his own precum spilling around his fat intrusion and down into a puddle to stain your sheets as a reminder of his affections.

Look, it begs, how well I fuck you.

“Feeling good?” he taunts you from above, in a voice not of his own, but the manner. The attitude of it, shared only amongst the bestest of friends. Communicating I told you so in one raise of his brow, though short lived as it may be due to how much he struggles to keep up with himself. Fucking himself stupid, because he can’t control his actions, because he’s finally gotten everything he’s ever wanted, and he wants more.

So he paws at your tits too, rough and unruly with his tough. Perhaps a little influence from his shapeshifting into your ex? Oh how he used to hurt you, right? And Robin wouldn’t want to do that to you, not on purpose anyway. And yet still, he pinches at your nipples unfairly so, just to hear you make those squeaky cries for a break again and again, the feeling of your nails digging into his tensed up arms is so nice too, especially when paired with the way your lashes flutter shut in pure bliss. God, he knows he must be right. Can feel the way your legs obviously shake behind him, and the way your cunt quivers around his cock, and how you can’t get a single straight forward sentence out, and—

“Wait!” you yelp, both pained and unwilling, an impulsive thought turned verbal. C’mon, you don’t really want him to stop, do you? You’re so close! His free hand snaking between where his cock pumps you full to rub generous circles around your clit for a little more convincing, promising to help you feel better than you’ve felt in weeks since the breakup, if only you’d give in just a little more—

“Wanna feel it,” he selfishly admits, drooling over the way you writhe and tremble under him; you’re so hot when you’re trying to hold back, y’know that? That cute little scrunched up face you wear has his cock twitching some more, balls taut at the sight of your tightly closed fists barely knocking against his chest. You’re real cute for thinking you’ve got a chance. So cute, fuck, he loves you so much that he can barely stand to make you wait any longer, pressing tighter circles against your sensitive clit, a little sloppy and a little messy because he knows you like it that way, and you can’t fucking escape his seedy touch, fucking into you more fervently now the closer you get, and he grabs and tugs at your tits more as a means to stay grounded, but it helps that the action has you moaning even louder than before, and “Give it t’me, please—” he ends up begging, whining himself from how absurdly good your fighting back has him feeling.

And he wanted to last longer, in truth. But he’s happy to have at least lasted long enough to feel you cream his cock as he shoots the fattest load of his life deep into your pretty cunt. All puffy and red, he pulls your lips aside to get a better look at how well you take his cum, how it oozes out of you from the copious amounts of it, and how fucking pretty the sight is to behold. Humping into you just a little more to fuck you through your orgasm, as thanks for how breathless he is during his own, before falling over you to encase you in his own heat as the lack of concentration causes him to return to his normal self. Plain old Robin, heaving against your equally panting chest as a stark reminder of exactly who just made you feel so good, who still has you yet trembling and whining idly as he allows you space to come down from your high.

It’s hard to deny you feel better, he bets.

And it’s not long before he peppers your forehead in many little kisses as you lay dazed with this stupid look on your face that he just adores so much. Can’t contain himself, affection dripping from every quick lipped kiss pressed against every inch of your face that he can reach and then some, finally settling on your lips to which he’s unbothered about the fact that you don’t reciprocate in kind— you’ve just came. He understands the need to go slow, and he’s got all the time in the world to give you as much as you need.

Because this is it, he muses to himself. Here, with you under him and in his arms, dizzy and exhausted from getting fucked as good as he can give, this is it. Light laughter crawling up his throat for him to cough away— “You’re amazing,” he praises you honestly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before exhaling contentedly, repositioning your relaxed body so that you’re facing him on your side, and he can cuddle you all night long if he so wishes. “I mean really, fuck—” barked laughter escapes him in utter disbelief, “Dunno what your ex was thinking, but God— ‘M never letting you go.”

And unfortunately, he truly means it. In every sense of the word, pulling you closer to his chest so that you can hear just how hard his heart thumps for you, even now as he comes down from his high. Keeping you close like glue, where no one can ever hurt you again, all safe and sound in your own mind with the best company to date!

And when they find you, they’ll find no other explanation other than: a coma. Poor thing… he’ll stay with you throughout it all— you won’t have to suffer all alone ever again.

[the-knaves-world]

14, 44 & 76 ^_^

ROBIN! OMG how are you? Make sure to eat, hydrate, and stretch today (in whatever way you are able :D)

14- fave non-chocolate candy? Oooh, i love lifesavers, the gummies specifically! I could eat them forever!

44- fave scent for soap? My fave is juniper, vanilla with shea! Second fave that i had to include is strawberry!

76- fave potato food? Uhhh...does this count? My family makes a tater tot casserole that has a meat base with tater tots on top with shredded cheese melted on top! If that doesn't count then curly fries! (The arby's version!)

I love these but i always forget to send in asks to others bc i talk myself out of it....am omw to send numbers your way Robin!

[gach-artblog]

I am here again spreading the 🗿🌹🐦 agenda !!! Can either be interpreted as platonic or romantic because I eat them up all the same.

Does the RAR trio (🗿🌹🐦) make any sense? Probably not. But I have too much of a power called being a desperate artist so I can just draw these three interacting however I want.

The cons is that it's never enough so I'm pulling manipulating y'all into the 🗿🌹🐦 fanclub! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)!

P.s: Any suggestions for the 🗿🌹🐦 trio name? I feel like we can come up with something better than RAR....

[darkcrowprincess]

Dick Grayson when Bruce has him dress in drag for a case:

He likes to feel pretty, especially for Bruce.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Alex: It’s tiny, so I guess it was a short tour-.. I’ve gotta share this bed with my dad, but I don’t really mind, he’s like a free hot water bottle. [Robin grinned; he liked this place, it was cosy, and unique] Alex: You oughta wear a mini whiteboard around your neck or something, that way you could “talk”. [Robin squinted with amusement, shaking his head, he was weird enough already] Alex: Guess it’d look kinda funky… … Alex: Oh! This is my friend, Amber-.. except I don’t know if she’s a girl or not… [Robin watched the girl peer into the enclosure, unsure whether she felt guilty or comforted by Amber’s presence] Alex: It’s obvious I don’t have many friends, huh? [Robin sucked his bottom lip briefly and shrugged, he wasn’t one to talk-.. even if he could] Alex: We move around a lot and live in weird places like this, so… [Robin nodded slightly, assuming it’d be hard to make friends if you were never in one place for too long] Alex: Do you have many friends? [Robin shook his head] Alex: Can’t imagine it’d be easy if you don’t talk to folk. [Robin laughed, immediately feeling self-conscious as he felt a wave of giddiness emanate from the girl whose name he couldn’t ask for. He wished he’d just said something at the beginning, then there wouldn’t be this weird pressure for him to say something-.. a simmering intrigue surround his silence. Why didn’t he speak? What might he sound like?] Alex: I think I saw snakes n’ ladders somewhere, if you wanna play? [Robin glanced at the pink hue of the clouds and lifted his sleeve to tap his watch, it’d be dinnertime soon] Alex: You should totally stay a bit longer! [Alex grinned at Robin, though it soon faded as he hopped to his feet; she seemed perturbed by the fact that her suggestion had apparently been ignored, as if he wasn’t supposed to disagree with her] Alex: Oh, uhm-.. okay, but maybe we could hang out again before you go? [Robin nodded fervently; he’d like that] Alex: I’m Alex, by the way. [Robin grabbed his camera and showed Alex the small sticker stuck beneath; she squinted as she read: Robin Finch] Alex: You’re named after two types of bird? [Robin nodded with a smirk, wishing he could explain that all three of his siblings were too. Perhaps he should get a whiteboard, at least a tiny one he could fit in his pocket-.. he didn’t want to wear one round his neck like an idiot] Alex: Five more days, right? [Robin nodded] Alex: Okay, bird boy.. I’ll call for you!

[dceuheadcanons]

Every batboy (just The Robins in this post) has their own Concerning Old Man.. It's like a theme at this point. Some can be seen as "ships", some are familial, some are just straight up abusers. Sooo buckle up!

Dick has Slade. We all know this. Slade literally abused Dick while he was his apprentice in canon, so.. yeah. They get together in the future in this blog's personal version of DC. I have a whole playlist of songs for them.. they are so unhealthy and codependent and I LOVE IT. I love some good fucked up angsty abuser x victim.

Jason.. he has The Joker. The guy that killed him. I think that they're sort of similar to Dick and Slade, but they never date and Joker doesn't even like Jason. But Jason has this weird love-hate for the guy. He was trapped with him and forced to obey him for two years before he was killed in this blog's personal version of DC. He'd gladly kill The Joker, but the second The Joker decides to give him orders again.. he's probably done for. Anyway I also think Jason sees Slade as a father figure but that's a whole other thing.

Tim has Ra's Al Ghul. Complicated. A lot of nuance but quite fucked up. Really really hard to explain? Especially since none of the people running this blog are like.. Tim superfans like we are with some of the others lmao. But you guys get it.

Damian has Luthor. Honestly hard to explain to anyone that doesn't know the full extent of our DC universe? But it's like a father-son thing. Luthor reminds Damian of his grandfather, that's why he gravitated towards him. Damian probably has a bit of an unhealthy kid crush on the guy too, but never says anything about it. Damian uses the fact that WE and LexCorp are connected as an excuse to see him. (Bruce very openly doesn't like Luthor, but they can't separate the companies completely. So Damian offers to go to meetings in place of his father.)

Anyway yeah!! Hope you liked this little Concerning Older Men post. I love how traumatised the babies are. It's so fun!! Poor them, but.. It's entertaining.

[gach-doodles]

Birb form 🗿🌹🐦 my beloved...

They can go "chirp chirp chirp" and I would gasp in awe like it's the greatest achievement of mankind and give them endless hugs and compliments for the rest of the day.

Honorable mention: rock-form Robin. She's a rock star (literally) 🐦✨ I would still love you even if you were a rock my beloved.

[starrie-eyed]

flirting in 2025 be like:

[askpattoncolton]

do you prefer hotter or colder climates?

(also, favorite season? summer, fall, winter, spring..) -🦜

☘️: Spring. It's after harsh winters. It's also when I fell in love.

[mepposprincess]

i love my grillfreinds

[thatgarden]

Thinking of either changing my name to or also going by Lavender. It's just so pretty.

[nikrei]

(Action Comics 362) (1968)

the sixties are good sometimes actually

[the-knaves-world]

78 & 82 ^_^

Robin!!! Thanks for the ask!

I want to see Chappelle Roan in concert so bad! Her shows seem so fun!

And the cookie! I had to think for a good few seconds. White macadamia cookies! They are so good! I love them so much!

[gach-artblog]

sleep paralysis demons

[darkcrowprincess]

Dick Grayson walking around late at night in wayne manor with big robes that kind of drag on the floor when he walks. He can't sleep so decides to go exploring. Wayne manor halls long and dark but the darkness is comforting. Wayne manor is a comforting darkness that hugs you while hiding you at the same time. Keeps you safe, shields you from harm. While Gotham is an overwhelming darkness that can suck you down and never let you go if your not careful. Dick Grayson walking the long halls till he finds Bruce Wayne's office. Maybe he's at his desk working on paperwork, maybe he's doing that on the couch, laptop on coffee table, wearing his glasses. Maybe he's being emo again and brooding by the window. Either way it's better than him being in the cave, other bats being his only company. Either way Dick finds Bruce.

Bruce being the batman, right way looks up from whatever he's doing and his eyes go straight to Dick Grayson. At first his eyes are fully batman in that moment, but when he realizes it's Dick Grayson his eyes go soft. Not a lot of people can tell when his eyes go soft. Dick Grayson being the few that can. Bruce Wayne asking the obvious question, "can't sleep?" Dick Grayson nodding. Bruce Wayne just gestures with one finger for Dick Grayson to come closer and Dick with a smile flies close to the bat like the bird he is. Bruce opens his arms and hugs Dick close. Fingers running through his hair. Dick leaning close to his chest feeling better already. The Bat cuddling the robin close under his wing. All is calm all is safe in wayne manor.

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You

1# Of My Favorite Actors Of The 90's,  The Batman & Robin Actor & NCIS LOS ANGELES Star 🌟

The 1 & The Only

Mr. Chris O'Donnell aka Robin🐦 Of Batman Forever 🦇

#ChrisODonnell #BatmanForever #NCISLosAngeles #Robin #GrishaCallen