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sillygoose067 · 12 hours ago

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Miss(ter) Possessive

"Yeah, I'll be nice up until I'm not. And oh-so generous, tonight I forgot."- Miss Possessive by Tate Mcrae

Synopsis: A night out takes a heated turn as Dick Grayson watches admirer after admirer flirt with you—until he steps in, effortlessly staking his claim with a quiet, undeniable possessiveness.

The dimly lit jazz lounge was alive with soft music and quiet conversations, the scent of aged whiskey and espresso lingering in the air. The kind of place that whispered sophistication, where people came to talk business, seduce strangers, or escape into the low hum of a saxophone.

You leaned over the polished wooden bar, scanning the cocktail menu with a slight frown. “Do I go for a Negroni, or is that too bitter?” you mused out loud.

“Depends on your mood,” Dick said from beside you, his voice light, but his gaze was sharp, scanning the room with the easy alertness he carried everywhere. He was in his civilian clothes—dark jeans, a fitted navy button-down with the sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled from the ride over. He looked good. Unfairly good. And as much as he wanted to focus on your drink decision, his attention was already hooked elsewhere.

Because someone else had noticed you.

She was a sleek woman with dark red lipstick and a silky black dress, leaning on the other side of the bar just far enough to be casual, but close enough that Dick could see the way her eyes kept flickering toward you. At first, he thought she was just admiring you—who wouldn’t? But then she made her move.

“You should try the French 75,” the woman interjected smoothly, stepping in just a little closer, her voice carrying over the music. “Crisp, bubbly, perfect balance. It suits you.”

You blinked, looking over at her with a polite smile. “Oh, that’s a good idea! Thanks,” you said, completely missing the way her eyes traced over you with an interest that went beyond friendly.

Dick, on the other hand, saw everything.

The way she angled her body toward you, tucking her hair behind her ear just so. The way she held eye contact just a little too long. The slow, deliberate sip of her own drink, like she was giving you an invitation.

You, completely oblivious, just nodded thoughtfully at the menu. “I think I’ll try it. What about you, Gray?”

His grip on his glass tightened slightly, but he kept his expression smooth. “I’m good with my usual.”

The woman barely spared him a glance, which would have been fine—except she was very interested in you. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

You nodded. “Yeah, first time! My boyfriend suggested this place.”

Dick felt a flicker of satisfaction at the word boyfriend, but the woman didn’t even flinch. She just smiled. “Good taste,” she remarked, then, her gaze drifting back to you, “Though, I’d say you could have found this place on your own.”

You let out a small laugh, not thinking much of it. “I mean, maybe! I do love exploring new places.”

Oh, come on.

Dick took a slow sip of his drink, watching as the woman subtly edged closer, her fingers lightly trailing over the rim of her glass. He’d seen this game before. The slow build-up. The careful compliments. The not-so-accidental brush of a hand.

And you? Totally missing it.

“You know,” she continued, her voice softer, “you have the kind of presence that turns heads. You must get that a lot.”

You laughed, the kind of genuine, amused laugh that made Dick’s stomach tighten. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

No. No, she was not.

Dick exhaled slowly, setting his drink down with just enough weight for the sound to thunk against the wood. The woman finally glanced at him, as if only now remembering he was still there.

He met her gaze with an easy, confident smile. “She does get that a lot, actually. But, lucky for me, she’s already taken.”

Something in his tone had changed—still polite, still charming, but unmistakably firm. A statement, not an invitation for debate.

The woman’s lips parted slightly, but she recovered quickly. “Well,” she mused, swirling her drink, “good for you.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, casually sliding his arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip in a way that sent a clear message. “It is good for me.”

There was a beat of silence, tension thick beneath the soft hum of the music. The woman held his gaze for just a second longer before offering a slow, knowing smile. “Enjoy your night,” she said smoothly, stepping back into the crowd.

You turned to Dick, blinking. “She was nice.”

His jaw tensed slightly. He leaned down, his lips brushing close to your ear. “She was flirting with you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What? No, she was just—”

“She wasn’t just anything,” Dick murmured, his voice low. “She was very interested.”

Your brows furrowed. “You think so?”

Dick just shook his head, a mix of fondness and frustration in his expression. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Before you could respond, someone else entered the equation.

This time, it was a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones and an easy smirk. He leaned against the bar beside you, flashing you an effortless grin.

“Couldn’t help but notice you from across the room,” he said, his voice smooth as he rested his elbow on the counter.

Dick took a slow breath through his nose, already bracing himself.

You, meanwhile, turned to the newcomer with a friendly smile. “Oh? Well, it’s a great place.”

“Even better now,” the man said, giving you a look that made something in Dick snap.

That was it.

Dick shifted, moving so smoothly it looked effortless, positioning himself between you and the guy, his presence suddenly impossible to ignore. He didn’t glare, didn’t tense—no, his confidence was something subtler. He exuded control, the kind that made it clear he wasn’t threatened, but he was done playing polite.

The man’s smirk faltered slightly as he registered the shift in dynamic.

“Hey,” Dick said easily, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, his fingers subtly squeezing your hip. “Appreciate the compliment, but she’s with me.”

The guy glanced between you two, as if weighing his odds, before letting out a short laugh. “Didn’t see a ring.”

Dick’s smile was slow, controlled. “Didn’t need one.”

The weight behind those words was final.

The man held his gaze for a beat longer before exhaling through his nose, giving a half-shrug. “Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Good,” Dick said, his smile never wavering. “Now you know.”

The man nodded once before slipping back into the crowd.

You turned to Dick, still a little stunned. “Was he flirting too?”

Dick let out a small laugh, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “Baby, if I ever leave you alone in a bar, you might end up with three marriage proposals before I get back.”

You snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

Dick tilted his head, smirking. “Is it?”

His grip on you tightened slightly, possessive in a way that made your stomach flutter.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low, a promise wrapped in a claim.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lightly over his wrist. “Always.”

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sillygoose067 · 6 days ago

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Sports Car

"I think you know what this is. I think you wanna uhh"- Sports Car by Tate Mcrae

Synopsis: You and Richard Grayson have circled around each other for years. What happens when the tension is too thick one night?

Warnings: MDNI, pining, softdom Richard Grayson, making out, smut but not explicitly written.

Gotham was suffocating in its usual way, cloaked in darkness but pulsing with a quiet undercurrent of energy. In the apartment, though, time moved at its own pace—slower, drawn out, deliberate. The world beyond the thick windows might have been bustling, but in here, there was only the sound of steady breathing, the subtle rustle of clothing, and the intoxicating weight of his gaze.

Richard Grayson had always been a master of silence. He was confident—no, assured—so much so that his very presence seemed to fill every inch of space. His demeanor was calm, but there was something more underneath: a palpable intensity that never fully dissipated. Tonight, it felt more like a simmering volcano ready to erupt. He stood against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you as you paced the room. The tension between you was so thick it was almost a living thing, wrapping itself around your ribs, constricting your chest.

For a moment, you caught your reflection in the window: your tousled hair, the flush on your cheeks, the way your breath had quickened since you walked in. You knew you were being affected. But Dick—He was always so unreadable. Always so in control.

And that only made the pull between you stronger.

You could feel his eyes on you, steady, unwavering, like a hunter waiting for its prey. It was infuriating, almost, how easy it was for him to get under your skin. It wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, mental—he was a challenge. Always a challenge. And you were in the mood for one tonight.

You turned, meeting his gaze, offering him a little smile that felt more like a dare than anything else. “You know, you’ve been looking at me like that all night,” you said, your voice teasing but the underlying heat undeniable. “If you keep staring at me like that, you’ll make me think you actually want something.”

Dick’s lips quirked into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He pushed off from the doorframe, crossing the space between you two effortlessly, as if he was always in motion, always just a step ahead. He stopped just in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Oh, I want something,” he murmured, his voice rough with an undercurrent of something darker. “I just haven’t decided if I’m letting you have it yet.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the challenge in his words. He was good—so good—at playing with you, at keeping you on edge. But you weren’t going to back down. Not tonight.

You leaned in, just close enough to feel the heat of his breath against your skin. “And if I don’t let you decide?” you whispered, fingers lightly brushing the fabric of his shirt. “What happens then?”

His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “Then we’ll find out.”

The words were like a match to kindling. Suddenly, everything between you two exploded into an inferno. The space between you was gone in a heartbeat. Dick’s lips captured yours in a kiss that was raw, primal—a storm that had been building between you for weeks. There was no tenderness here. No soft, slow approach. He kissed you with an intensity that spoke of everything he wanted but had never asked for, everything he had been holding back. His hands cupped your face with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you, like he was marking his territory without saying a word.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, no longer holding back the flood of desire that had been building inside of you. His hands moved down your body, pulling you closer, until there was no air left between you. You could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your clothes. The roughness of his touch sent sparks through you, igniting something deep inside that made you crave more.

It wasn’t just physical, though. You could feel it in the way he held you—like he wanted to consume you, like you were both part of the same fire. You pulled him closer, hands desperately trying to remove the barrier between you—the coats, the shoes, anything to make contact, to feel him against you. There was nothing that could have stopped this—no hesitation, no second thoughts. You were both lost in this moment.

When you pulled away just enough to look at him, your chest heaving, it was only to catch your breath. But you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him—his tousled hair, the way his eyes were dark, lit with an unspoken fire. His hands rested on your hips, gripping you tightly, as if anchoring you to him. The air between you was thick, heavy with need, and yet there was something else there too—a challenge. It wasn’t enough for him to just have you. He wanted to see how far you’d let him take you.

Richard’s voice broke through the haze of desire. “You know,” he said, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, “I like when you fight back. Makes everything more interesting.”

You smirked, the rush of adrenaline only feeding your need for him. “Who said I’m fighting?”

Dick let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “I’m not one for guessing games, you know. You either give in… or you don’t.”

The weight of his words made your pulse race even faster. His hands moved, shifting down to your waist, his fingers grazing the edge of your shirt before lifting it up, inch by inch. Every movement was calculated, deliberate. You didn’t want to break eye contact. You didn’t want to lose this power struggle.

But Richard, always a step ahead, made the decision for you. With one swift motion, he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. Your breath caught as the cool air hit your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him. His gaze was sharp, studying every inch of you as if he were savoring the moment before he made his next move.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he murmured, his voice rougher than before, filled with something darker, something hungry. His fingers traced the curve of your collarbone, down the center of your chest, and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.

You were lost in him, completely taken in by his touch, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his body pressed against yours. The fire was burning now, out of control, and there was no going back.

“You’re not going to make me beg,” you breathed, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes held yours, searching for the answer to some unspoken question.

“I don’t need you to beg,” he replied quietly, but there was a certain edge to his voice—like he was holding back just enough, giving you just enough space to make your next move. “But I’m damn sure going to make you want it.”

You were barely able to process the words before Richard kissed you again, this time harder, deeper, as if trying to erase any distance that remained between you two. You couldn’t help but respond with the same fervor, pulling him closer, your hands sliding down his toned back, feeling the warmth of his skin. Every touch was electric, sparking more fire, more heat. There was no room for anything but the need to feel each other, to lose yourself completely in the moment.

His lips trailed down your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your skin sending jolts of pleasure racing through you. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmured, voice rough with hunger. “You have no idea how long.”

The admission sent a thrill down your spine, but it only made you more determined to keep pushing, to keep fighting this pull between you. You kissed him harder, if only to remind him that you were in this too, that you wanted this as much as he did. That you were just as much a part of the fire that had started between you both.

His hands moved once more, now pulling you closer, lifting you slightly to allow him to press deeper against you. It was a slow burn, but it was building to something that neither of you could hold back. There was no stopping now. No hesitation. Just the steady rhythm of your heartbeats, syncing together in the heat of the moment.

Dick, ever the master of control, let his hands slide lower, tracing the curve of your body, testing the limits of your patience. “You’re not getting away that easy,” he growled, his lips grazing your ear.

“No one’s trying to get away,” you whispered back, breathless, surrendering completely to the pull between you. You had never been more sure of anything in your life than you were in this moment, in this fire that neither of you could stop from burning brighter.

The room seemed to pulse with the thrum of your heartbeats, the silence between kisses louder than anything either of you could say. Every touch, every word, felt loaded with more meaning than the last. Dick’s hands were everywhere, exploring the curve of your back, the outline of your shoulders, the place where your neck met your collarbone. It was slow, agonizingly slow, the way he traced the path of his fingers as if savoring every inch of your skin.

But it wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be put into words.

There was a history between you two that stretched far beyond the walls of this apartment. There was the teasing, the tension that had been building for months, the stolen glances and the fleeting touches that left you both wondering what it would be like if you didn’t hold back. Tonight, it felt like everything had led to this. All the subtle moments, all the charged silences—it was all culminating in this single, undeniable need.

You pulled back slightly, breath coming in shallow gasps, looking at him, really looking at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was still something behind them. Something deeper. A vulnerability, a rawness that made your chest tighten. You knew this wasn’t just about the physical. This was Richard Grayson, the boy who had spent his life hiding behind layers of jokes and smirks, afraid to let anyone see the cracks. But tonight, with you, all the walls were coming down.

“I think I might be losing control,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, raw. He had always been in control—of his body, his thoughts, his emotions. But right now, in this moment, that control was slipping. And that truth, coming from him, made your pulse spike.

“You’re not the only one,” you replied, your voice a breathless whisper, a challenge in the words. “But maybe it’s time to stop pretending we don’t want this.”

Dick leaned in, his forehead pressing gently against yours, the distance between your bodies nearly unbearable. His hands were still roaming, but now they were gentle, almost reverent, as if unsure whether you would pull away. His lips brushed against your skin, soft at first, then with more force, as if claiming you, taking what he had been craving for so long. The air was thick with desire, suffocating, but neither of you cared.

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your jawline, your chest—and each kiss sent a jolt of warmth coursing through your veins. The way he moved against you was perfect—controlled yet demanding, like a dance you had both been practicing without realizing it. The way his hands found the curve of your hips, pulling you closer, reminding you that this wasn’t just a moment—it was the beginning of something far deeper.

You gasped when his lips found their way to the sensitive skin just below your ear, his breath warm against your flesh. His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “Do you want me to stop?”

You wanted to laugh—wanted to tease him, tell him that if he stopped now, it would only make everything worse. But the words didn’t come. Instead, you pulled him closer, your hands gripping the back of his neck, pushing him further into the kiss. “No,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “Keep going.”

And he did.

Dick’s hands were on your waist again, pulling you against him, lifting you effortlessly until you were pressed up against him fully, the hard line of his body grinding against yours. The feeling sent a wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the desire in every inch of him. The urgency, the need—he was just as consumed by this as you were.

The kiss deepened, and the world outside seemed to vanish entirely. There was only Dick—his lips, his hands, his body—everything else faded away. It was as though the universe had narrowed down to this single point in time, this moment where nothing mattered except the feeling of him against you, inside you.

And still, there was a push and pull, a tension between you both, like neither of you wanted to give in completely. Like neither of you wanted to be the first to lose yourself.

But he wasn’t backing down, and neither were you.

The coolness of the room seemed to disappear as the temperature between you soared. Dick’s hands roamed lower, and you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped your lips as his fingers brushed against the waistband of your panties.

“You sure about this?” he asked again, the question more of a dare than a hesitation. He wasn’t asking for permission. He was testing boundaries, pushing to see just how far you’d let him take it. And that was part of the allure, the game you were playing with him.

You gave him no answer, just a kiss that was filled with the promise of everything you both wanted. Your body moved instinctively against his, hands working to undo the belt at his waist, eyes never leaving his. It was a game now—no words, just touch. Just the urgency of wanting more.

Dick let out a breath, a shaky exhale as you pushed him backwards gently, feeling the coolness of the room meet the heat of his skin. His body was just as solid, just as sculpted as you had imagined. There was nothing between you now. No distance, no walls. Just skin against skin, breath against breath.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered against your neck, his voice thick, almost pleading. There was nothing composed left in him, nothing calculated.

“Good,” you whispered back. “I like it when you’re lost.”

The words hung between you like a challenge. And this time, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t pull back. Dick’s hands slid under the hem of your panties, pulling them down, the soft fabric brushing your skin before falling to the floor. The urgency in his movements mirrored your own, both of you so desperate to close the gap, to feel the friction, to feel something real.

His lips found yours again in a kiss that felt too good to be true, and yet here you were, tangled together, both of you burning with an intensity that could not be ignored. Every touch seemed to make the world outside fade further, until there was nothing left except this.

Dick’s hands explored your body, sending shivers down your spine, and you could feel the same heat rising in him. His breath was ragged now, his chest moving against yours with each shaky inhale.

“I want you,” he murmured, his lips tracing the outline of your jaw. “Now.”

And something inside you snapped. The control you had tried to maintain, the teasing, the back-and-forth—it was all gone. You were both past that point now, past the games. This was no longer a test, no longer a challenge. This was just raw, undeniable need.

You pulled him closer, your body arching into his as he leaned down to kiss you once more, this time with all the force of everything that had been building between you two. Your fingers worked quickly, pulling at the last of the clothing between you, and within seconds, there was nothing left but the heat of his skin against yours.

Dick groaned, a sound so low and rough that it vibrated through you, igniting something deep inside. He was all muscle and heat, his hands guiding you, pulling you closer as if trying to bury himself inside you completely. You didn’t want to fight anymore. You didn’t want to hold back. You just wanted to feel him. To lose yourself completely.

And just like that, there was no more space between you.

The rest of the world faded away. The chaos of Gotham, the noise, the pressure—it all disappeared into the background. There was only Richard, only the way his body felt against yours, the way his touch made your heart race, the way he moved inside you.

And it was everything you had imagined, everything you had wanted, and yet it still felt too much to handle. Every kiss, every touch, every movement was an endless spiral of pleasure, leaving you both gasping for more, always wanting more.

When you finally reached the peak, your bodies entwined, lost in each other, it was like the world had finally fallen into place. It wasn’t just about the physical release. It was about everything else—the desire, the tension, the emotions that neither of you had dared to acknowledge until now.

As your bodies slowly began to relax, Dick collapsed next to you, his hand gently brushing through your hair, his fingers caressing the skin of your shoulder.

“That…,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, “was insane.”

You smiled, your body still humming with energy, still alive from the fire he had sparked within you. “Yeah,” you breathed

His lips curved into a smile that was half amusement, half challenge. “I didn’t think you were the type to play fair.”

“Who said anything about playing fair?” you whispered, your hand brushing his chest.

And as you both lay there, entangled in the aftermath, the fire between you hadn’t burned out yet. The air between you two was still charged, as if every breath you took was laced with electricity. Richard’s chest rose and fell under your touch, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. His touch, though gentle now, still felt like an anchor, holding you to the present. To him. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction, but there was something in his gaze that didn’t quite fade. A hunger, still simmering beneath the surface, ready to ignite again at a moment’s notice.

You shifted, pressing closer into his side, your head resting against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, drawing you nearer. The space between you, that once-feared distance, was gone—replaced by something far more intoxicating.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook yet,” you whispered, a teasing lilt in your voice as you ran your fingers along his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch. “I’m not done with you.”

Dick chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest, sending a fresh wave of warmth through your body. His fingers trailed lazily up and down your spine, like he was marking every inch of you. “I’m starting to think I’ve unleashed a monster,” he said, a mix of amusement and something else in his tone—something darker, more playful.

“A monster?” You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I was just getting started.”

He turned his head to look at you, his expression soft but with a wicked gleam in his eye. “I know,” he said, his voice a velvet whisper. “But don’t think you can win every round. You’ve got a lot to prove if you want me to keep up with you.”

That spark of competition flared between you two once more, this unspoken challenge hanging in the air, thick with anticipation. Neither of you was ever one to back down, especially when the stakes were so high. The adrenaline from your previous encounter hadn’t fully dissipated, and now, in the stillness of the room, it simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the next spark.

“I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” you responded, your fingers trailing down his torso, feeling the tense muscles beneath his skin.

Dick’s hand gripped your wrist gently, but there was a hint of firmness to it, grounding you, forcing your attention to shift back to him. “You know I’m always up for a challenge,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing against yours, as if he was offering you an invitation, one he knew you wouldn’t refuse.

It was like you’d been waiting for this moment, for him to pull you back in, for the next round to begin. You could feel the shift in the energy between you, like a switch had been flipped. Everything about this—about him—was unpredictable, and that was part of what made him so intoxicating. Richard Grayson wasn’t someone who let you get too comfortable. He kept you on your toes, always.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his lips pressing with a new intensity, his hands pushing you back against the pillows. The air around you both was thick with urgency, and this time, you didn’t bother with the teasing. You met him with the same fire, the same raw desire. There was no more waiting. No more holding back. You needed him, needed to feel the heat of him again, and he was right there, just as eager.

His hands roamed again, possessive but gentle, as if trying to memorize the curve of your body, each touch making you ache for more. His lips found your neck, and you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that escaped your lips, the sound only fueling the fire that was building between you two.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips grazed your collarbone. It wasn’t a demand, but a claim, a promise—one that wrapped itself around you, binding you to him in a way that felt like home and like a spark about to catch fire all at once.

You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you, feeling the possessive edge in his tone go straight to your core. “I’m yours?” you asked, voice breathless, a little amused, a lot breathless.

His eyes met yours, and there was no joking in his gaze now—only something fierce, something raw, something that made your heart stutter. “You know it. And you’re not getting away anytime soon.”

You didn’t need to respond. You couldn’t. Words weren’t enough to explain the way your body responded to him, the way every inch of you burned with desire when he was close. Every breath, every touch, every second of this was more than you had imagined—more than you had hoped for.

The world outside the room didn’t exist anymore. There were no responsibilities. No distractions. There was only Richard Grayson and you, a connection that felt like it was unspoken but understood in every movement. You moved with him, against him, in perfect synchronization. The tension between you two didn’t let up. If anything, it intensified as he pressed you further into the bed, his body a weight above you, yet not oppressive, just right. The intensity of the moment made your pulse quicken. This was it. This was what you had both been craving, whether you’d admitted it to yourselves or not.

His lips were back on yours, soft, yet demanding, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands gripped your hips as he shifted his weight, sliding his body against yours with a fluid, practiced ease that made everything inside you tighten. His kiss deepened, more urgent this time, and you could feel his heartbeat matching yours, the rhythm of it like a drum, calling you to follow.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed against his lips, unable to stop yourself from pulling him closer.

And he didn’t. He kept going, every movement more desperate than the last, a steady push and pull between you two that was almost hypnotic. The heat between you two was unbearable now, and there was no way either of you could escape it. No way you’d ever want to.

Every inch of your body ached for him, every touch igniting a fire that could only be doused by him. His hands were everywhere, pressing you closer, lifting you just enough to feel the full length of him against you, driving you to madness with every movement.

You arched into him, your body a tangled mess of want and need, and the moment you felt him inside you again, it was like all the pieces finally clicked into place. He groaned against your lips, and the sound only made you more desperate, more hungry for him. The rhythm between you was perfect, like an unspoken dance that neither of you wanted to end.

It was no longer about teasing, no longer about waiting—it was just pure, unfiltered connection, every sensation heightened, every breath taken with a new sense of urgency. The tension that had been simmering for so long finally erupted in a wave of release, and the world outside ceased to matter once more.

As you both collapsed together, breathless and tangled in the sheets, Dick held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, as if protecting you from the rest of the world. His lips brushed against your forehead, soft and tender now, the heat of your connection still lingering between you.

“I wasn’t lying,” he whispered, his voice low and soft. “You’re mine now. And I’m not letting go.”

You smirked, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you pressed a soft kiss to his chest. “I never planned on letting go.”

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