Characters: Dick Grayson x Speedster!MALE Reader
Summary: Dick has been in love with his Best Friend for years, almost as long as they've been sharing beds. What happens when they share a bed, and said friend starts vibrating in his sleep?
Warnings: SMUT! Reader is 'asleep', accidental stimulation(?), vibrator on male genitals, humping, dry humping, grinding, cursing.
A/N: Yo, I had to look at a diagram of a penis for this AND class. #PreMed. That's lowkey kinda crazy...hehe...anyways have some dick with your Dick!
Maybe this was punishment for all the sinful thoughts Dick has been having lately.
It's filthy honestly, shameful.
You've been friends since the start of his orphan days -which ouch- before Bruce had even officially adopted him. You were Bolt, the bright eyed, bushy tailed protegee of Barry Allen at the time - right besides Wally West, his other Best Friend.
The two of you grew up together, the two of you ate together, the two of you trained together, the two of you even slept together in the same bed.
Dick had always snuck into the guest room after Alfred went to bed, giggling about how slick he was, about how Bruce would never know and about how he was the best sidekick ever - Bruce confirmed five years later that Dick, was indeed, not slick.
Sharing a bed was a ritual between the two of you, natural, just another day in life. He would sleep in the same bed with you on missions, so why does he want to sleep with you now.
Dick tries to hide it.
He really does.
But the way your muscles ripple under your shirt whenever you move, the way your lashes curtain your face just perfectly, the way your chest looks -all sweaty and glistening- when you lift up your shirt to wipe your face after training, the way you manhandle thugs so easily when they try and get the jump on you - because honestly, he wishes it was him you were throwing around. And have you ever seen a speedsters thighs? Holy shit, they're huge. Toned, and sexy, and- And fuck- fuck, the way you look at him when he pins you down to the training mat, all pouty looking when your pinned under him, panting, red faced, with your shirt ridden up.
One of your drunk ex's mentioned once that you broke their bed by accident and he completely just blanked out, Donna telling him later that he had accidentally crushed the red party cup in his hand.
Dick wants to bang his head against the wall.
He's loosing it.
He's loosing his focus.
He's loosing his other interests.
He's at risk at loosing you.
Especially right now.
Because your pressed against him -warm, pliant- your chest hugging his back, your legs threaded with his. Your thigh pressed between his. The warmth of your breathe tickling his neck, arm locked around his waist like an iron chain.
And fuck him, because you're vibrating.
Like some kind of dog having a dream where it's running, you must be doing the same; because he can barely contain the whimper his lips threaten to let fall out whilst your leg acts as a living, human, vibrator. Your thigh lining along the underside of his cock, stimulating every ridge and vein, from the base to the tip.
He can't move, he just can't.
Your arm in locked around him, tight, unyielding, and the way the weakness in his legs climbs throughout his body - he knows for sure he can't escape. His brain soon becoming as compliant as his muscles as he shifts, trying to save his dignity, only to make your thigh buzz right against the mound of his tip.
A shuddering breathe leaves him, and he has to stop his back from arching, stop himself from moaning out, stop himself from grinding back onto you like some fucking hormonal teenage boy. Every shift, every time he moved, every time he even tried to make it so his cock wasn't weeping sinfully into the inside of his boxers, sullying both him and his mind -it only makes it worse. And he has to stop his hips from bucking against you -riding your thigh- when you shift in your sleep. Because your thigh is rubbing perfectly against his painfully throbbing dick, like your body already knows his down to the sweet spot next to his frenulum.
Your sleepy grumble rouses him from his heated state to just how stupid he's being.
Yet, he can only take it, his fingers curling blissfully into the sheets as his eyes squeeze themselves shut. Like if he closes them, all of this will go away. Like if he closes them, everything will go back to normal. You'll be at home, he'll be alone, and this will all be a big, bad, dream-
Does he want it to be a dream...?
The way his teeth dig into the plump of his lip almost painful from how hard he's trying to keep himself quiet. Because if you wake up, wake up to him moaning and wailing out, wake up to him rutting his hips and grinding down on your -stupidly overtoned- thigh. You'll most definately feel his cock, harder than steal, pressed against you; his balls tight and threatening to unload.
And they do.
Because you flinch, thigh driving into the thick of his crotch and Dick -and his dick- fucking looses it. Your thigh is pressed against his cock oh so perfectly, vibrating against every ridge, against every single vein. Driving against him like its supposed to be there. And he looses it.
He can't stop his body from jerking, thighs clamping around yours as his hips start up hurriedly. Rutting against your thigh like he's some filthy feral animal who can't control itself. His head throws itself back as he barely contains himself from wailing out, teeth drawing blood, and he bites down hard. Your forehead grazes the back of his head, hairs tickling his neck as he rides his high. Thick ropes and evidence of his sinful release unloading thickly into his underwear, sullying them with a wet spot he wouldn't be able to fix until morning.
And your thigh doesn't stop buzzing until it's all said and over, like it knows. It knows how lewd and wanting he was. Like it knew what he would do and how he would do it. Like it knew he would take this opportunity as it was.
Dick's panting, moans and whimpers as filthy as the drool running down his chin before his hips finally stutter to a stop. Even the biting chill of the Gotham air isn't enough to soothe the burn of embarrassment and shame creeping up his face right now, consuming his brain; just under the dazing fuzz of what seemed to be his ever lasting high.
He just dry humped his best friends thigh.
He just dry humped his sleeping best friends thigh.
Your peaceful breathing brings him back to that reality. The reality of him burning up, the reality of him just laying there, stuck till morning. Stuck with the evidence seeping through his underwear and sullying his inner thighs.
He bites the inside of his cheek, because he really was just stuck there; your arms locked around him, unless you decided to let go of him in your everlasting sleep.
How would he explain the wetspot in the morning?
How would he look at you in the face after knowing what he's done?
How would he train with you? Pin you down as this night replayed over and over again in his head.
How would he ever see you use your speed again, knowing that he used it to satisfy his own lewd-
"A-Ah-"
A breathy moan leaves his lip, sneaking past as his body arched up -tensing in arousing surprise. You started up again, moving in a slow and quiet buzz - barely felt yet prominent.
Dick groans when his cock starts up again, the soft appendage quickly hardening and coming to life as you shift against him. Dick closes his eyes, trying to use every technique Batman has ever taught him to keep his cool.
Think about dead puppies, Dick. Think about dead puppies...
He whimpers as he feels his dick begin to painfully throb from overstimulation.
It was going to be a long night.
And Dick is too preoccupied to notice how a lazy grin stretches across your face, resuming your fake slumber.
ââââââââââ-
(A/N: This picture was lowkey on my mind the whole time, lmao đ)
Being fucked into softly while theyre whispering in your ear, "god youre such a nasty little slut, you pathetic little thing. So cute when youre taking me like this, are you gonna cum?" Like all mocking and shit because they just love to play with you and torture you so sweetly because you melt for them
or
Being roughly fucked into, you gripping the bedsheets and them grabbing you, pounding into you and breathlessly just chanting over you "yeah, is that good baby? Youre so good for me, do you like that? You want more? You can have more baby, you can have it all,,,," like desperately wanting more of you but having all of you at the same time is too much
âThere you go, good boy.â His hand cups your jaw, his lips ghosting over your own before they settle on your cheek. He simply looked too good, acted too nice, and you werenât able to resist. His tongue lazily drags all the way to your neck, latching onto a sweet spot as he teasingly rolls his hips.
You shudder, your hands curling around his thighs. âStop callinâ me thatââ youâre cut off by your own groan when he suddenly grounds down against your clothed cock. He softly chuckles, the husky timbre muffled. âWhy, donât you like beinâ told youâre good?â He grinds in small, tantalizing circles, paired with a harsh bite, âMy good boy. Câmon, take everything I give you.â
okay someone explain to me the thing in dirty talk where oneâs genitals are personified and why thatâs hot? not âyouâre so wet for me, good boyâ but instead âyour pussy is such a good boy for getting wet for me. he knows what you want better than you do. perhaps you should just let him do all the thinking. he knows that you need to get fucked. donât you feel sorry for him? being so empty. i think he deserves to be filled, donât you?â
Feral mutants? Feral mutants. Readers based on a coyote, because I like coyotes, and it feels funny. For once, the reader is on the scrawny short side. I had to look up coyote and wolf behaviours for this, and I still feel like I didnât do well. My version of omegaverse amongst feral mutants, enjoy.
Kinktober 2024 masterlist
Logan had been living amongst the pack of wolves for who knew how long. When one lived in the woods, as far away from civilization as they could get, you had a tendency to lose track of time. You noticed the passing seasons, only based on the fact that the pack would migrate to better areas, and that pups would be born. What Logan did notice, was the other feral mutant whoâd edge at the borders of his packâs territory.
Everyone knew that the whole alpha beta omega hierarchy was bullshit when it came to wolves or other animals. But for mutants, it was very real, only feral mutants though. For the most part it didnât mean anything, only a certain feral edge to the feral mutant, even when integrated into society. But putting two together, could cause problems along the way.
Logan had always prided himself on having a steady mind and having patience, at least when it came to living amongst his pack far away from human stresses. But that stupid feral, the one that reeked of coyote instead of wolf, was getting on his nerves. Especially with how they dragged their alpha scent up against the same trees Logan would mark, as if taunting him.
Logan may have been an omega, but that in no way made him weak, that much was clear with just how much of a heavy hitter he was. His usual patience amongst his pack was hanging on a thread though, and when he finally caught that stupid loner feral marking up the spot logan had just marked, then he saw red.
The other feral was younger than Logan, at least he appeared to be, or maybe that was just his mutation. He wasnât as hairy, not as muscular, more on the lithe nimble side which made him fast. Which made you fast. The circles you ran around logan, nipping at his sides and thighs, jumping away quicker than he could snap back at you, it was all a game.
It was only when you two had travelled deeper into what Logan registered as your territory that he realized what you had done, or at least he thought so. Logan was used to most wanting to pick a fight, so that was what he got ready for, unsheathing his claws and barring his teeth with a feral snarl. The mutant was left confused though, as instead of charging at him with the intent to kill, you just jumped close, nipped at him some more, and jumped back.
Logan wasnât really sure what to do with that. Maybe hed spent too much time around people, or maybe he was just too old, but having a young buck like you showing such clear interest was new. Logan had had many partners over the years, donât get him wrong, but no one quite like you. No one as deeply intertwined in their own feral side as he was, at least nobody that wasnât an enemy.
But Logan also wasnât gonna act on what was stirring inside him, without knowing how present you were mentally. He knew from experience that some mutants just withdrew into their mind for their own safety, letting their bodies carry on without them being present. You did seem a little confused when Logan sat back on his haunches, staring you down.
âIâm Loganâ he finally grunted out, at least wanting to confirm that you understood. You seemed uncomfortable with talking, having most likely been alone for a long time, but relief did fill his system when you replied back, giving your own name.
Getting down onto your stomach, you start dragging yourself towards him, like a more submissive gesture that you wanted to get closer, you wanted him. So, what if some didnât like omegas that were bigger and stronger than them, you were a man of refined taste, and Logan was the most delicious omega you had ever seen. Plus, hed allowed all your games for so long, if he had really wanted you gone you would be.
Neither of you really liked talking much, instead just relying on the cloying scents hanging in the air, only growing thicker and headier with time as you finally got up between Logans thighs, your sharp canines digging into the strong muscle of it. It was more a request than anything, and had you had a tail you would have been wagging up a storm, as Logan finally huffed and gave a grumble, before rolling onto his front. There wasnât much presenting in his position, but you really hadnât expected that from a guy like Logan either, so you didnât mind.
As you bit your way up Logans thighs, you finally put your jaws into it, lapping up the droplets of blood that escaped before the bites healed back up again. There wasnât much need for talk in a situation like this, the only noises you cared about were the ways Logan groaned as you buried your face between his cheeks, lapping at whatever you could reach.
Unlike popular belief, omegas didnât create slick. You guys were just people, with a little bit of extra. So, it wasnât like Logan was gonna start slicking up and start popping out pups just because you fucked him. Hell, you didnât even have a knot, if your dick started growing like that youâd start fearing for your health. So really, the whole secondary gender thing for feral mutants didnât matter much, outside of some changes in pheromones, hormones, and different preferences. You could easily live normal lives without being an alpha or omega posing any problems.
It was most likely the fact that you two had been up here, far away from everything, that had driven you both into such an instinct fuzzy frenzy, your claws digging into the meat of Logans thighs to hold him still, as he snapped his teeth at the air and growled, grinding back against you.
Neither of you had the patience to work Logan open with your fingers, the pitch of Logans noises letting you know that the older mutant didnât have all day. So, with a few extra wet swirls of your tongue, you finally pulled back, almost clambering up onto his back.
You were skinnier than him, and much less hairy, but it just made it feel extra good as you glued your chest against his spine, your own puffed growls against his ear as you ground against him. Logan gave another growl, one of his hands reaching back to grab onto your hair and wrenching your head to the side, a snapped âget on with it bubâ leaving him, voice thick and dangerous.
And who were you to deny him his request. It took some fumbling with your hips to find where it needed to go, since you didnât want to unwrap your arms from his torso, hands too busy fondling his hairy pecs. Logan groaned as you finally pushed inside, shoving his hips back against yours to make you hurry up, he wasnât scared of a little pain.
As you bottom out, Logan could at least appreciate one thing about alphas. They may not have knots, or some kind of powerful alpha voice, but shit were they big, and by god did he like being full, something hed blame on his omega needs.
It may have been cold out, but neither of you could feel it, as your bodies moved in rough desperate ways. The forest floor was torn up by Logans claws as he huffed and groaned, the many clearly not one to just moan for no reason. You on the other hand was struggling, face buried against the back of his neck as you panted and keened. You truly were a greenhorn against a seasoned professional, your lesser experience clear in your quickly depleting stamina.
Had it been any other time Logan might have taunted you a little bit. Maybe a few jokes about you not being able to keep up, but right now he just found himself growling that you couldnât give it to him as hard as he wanted it. Part of it could probably be blamed on his adamantium skeleton and healing factor, but there was also part of you that was trying to be careful. Both for him, but also to keep yourself from finishing to face.
It was damn near impossible, you almost wanted to cry. He was so tight and hot inside, his growls and scent driving you mad. You wanted nothing more than to bite into his neck and mark him as yours, even if you both knew it didnât really matter in the long run as your healing factors to wipe away any mark or scars you left. It didnât keep you from licking at your teeth though, your entire body shaking weakly, trying to keep yourself from tumbling over the edge.
You didnât stand a chance, as Logan seemed to be able to sense or smell just how close you were. So, like the asshole he was, Logan put more energy into his hips, rolling them back against you until you were keening into his neck, hips stuttering and shaking as you mumble out warbled apologies.
Falling limp against his back, you felt not worth your salt. You had tried to entice him for so long, and here you were bursting not even five minutes in, he must be annoyed with you. Count you surprised when Logan makes you pull out, only to flip you onto your back and sit right back down on you, his grin cocky and dominant in ways you just couldnât match. âdonât worry, pup, we will work on thatâ he growled, the noise coming from deep in his chest, as he started bouncing in your lap.
One of his rough hands wiped away your tears of overstimulation, looking almost like he was pitying you for picking a fight you just couldnât win. Hed have you up to par in no time, donât you worry.
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