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@kyleraynerfan
welcome to my blog
aud, she/her, 20yo, student - masterlist
blog under construction
kinda have not written anything all month bc i had a breakdown over school lmfao. might write more, but we'll see
while looking at my writing from high school, i've realized that i've been writing in present tense since i started writing again, and i think that's why i've hated everything i've written recently
HATE SEX
pairing: kyle rayner x fem!reader
word count: 0.5k
content/warnings: mdni! unprotected p in v, ngl barely smut because i made kyle sad halfway through
a/n: was going to do kinktober but lowkey had a mental breakdown and have not written anything since this
Becoming a Green Lantern made you feel like you were on top of the world. Everyone loves you, you can will almost anything into existence, and you’ve made some pretty interesting friends.
The only problem is that Kyle Rayner is an asshole.
Everyone’s favorite golden boy. He treats people with kindness and respect, only pushing back when necessary. You, on the other hand, he treats as if you’re nothing more than a speck of dust.
When you first met Kyle, you thought he was amazing. Not only did he have a lovely personality and a handsome face, but he also held the power of the entire emotional spectrum. It was easy to idolize him. That was until he publicly shamed you every time you made a mistake. Or when he embarrassed you in front of everyone. Or when he called you a slut in private.
Though you’re not too sure you mind that last statement.
“God, you’re so fucking easy, y’know that?” He pants into your ear, slamming his dick into you from behind. “You this much a slut for everyone? Or just me?”
“Jus- just you,” you stammer out. It wasn’t long after you met that the two of you realized taking out your anger in different ways might be more efficient than yelling on the battlefield. One pissed off conversation later and you ended up in his bed. After the tenth time going back, the shame wore off.
“Good,” your body feels as if it’s on fire as his hands roam. He caresses you much more gently than his words and actions portray. “Only I can have you.”
As his cock assaults your core, you can’t help but think about how his words have softened and his harsh ways have become almost protective. When you’re on missions, his usual insults have become more teasing. Though he won’t admit why his hatred is so strong, you can feel it beginning to crack.
He knows though. Kyle wears his shame in the form of hatred, not too sure how else to manage it.
The first time he had you, his guilt took over after the fact. You’re the first girl he’s been truly attracted to since his ex, Alex, was murdered.
He knows he has to keep living. He knows he should let himself feel love and attraction, but he also can’t get the nagging thought out of his head that tells him Alex was his fault. Hence why instead of being normal, he’s a fucking dick.
You tense up as his cock prods relentlessly at your cervix, forcing an orgasm out of you.
He looks down at where he is skewering you, and he watches as his cock gets painted in your release. The sight of your cum claiming him starts to send him over the edge.
After letting you ride out your orgasm, he pulls out, squirting cum down the center of your back. All while rubbing his length through the fold of your ass, encouraging more cum out of him.
Cleaning your back off, he almost feels ready to confess in this moment of softness, but of course, his own pride and shame get in the way. He quickly gets dressed and makes his way out, leaving your thoroughly fucked out and completely and utterly conflicted.
a/n: anyways, do yall use come or cum? i can't decide which one i hate more
jason todd x mom!reader
no warnings / wc: 500
a/n: ooc jason essentially bc this is a 500 word fic where nothing really happens
“Did you rake my whole yard?”
“The kid wanted a leaf pile, so I made him a leaf pile,” standing in your backyard, Jason Todd holds a plastic rake. Despite the autumn chill, he’s sweating through his tee shirt. This must’ve taken awhile.
You didn’t know what to expect—leaving your son alone with your boyfriend for the first time. It’s not that you didn’t trust Jason, but you didn’t want to force him into the role of “dad.” He clearly doesn’t seem to mind as he watches your son run through the leaves with a fond expression on his face.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say.
“Eh,” he shrugs the comment off. “The kid’s happy. Kept him busy.”
“Did he help?”
“If you call him ruining every small pile I made helping,” he smirks over at you. “Then yeah, he helped.”
“Sorry,” you frown, coming to stand right next to him. “He’s a pain.”
“He’s a good kid,” he shakes his head.
“He likes you.”
“Does he?” An uncertain expression bares his face. Jason would never admit it, but he so badly wants your boy to like him. He already knows that the minute the kid says something bad about Jason, he’s out the door. And he kind of really wants to stick around.
He also kind of really likes the five-year-old.
“Yeah,” a smile forms on your face, thinking of all the private conversations you’ve had with your son. “He’s always asking when you’ll be over next, and if you’ll cook his favorite meal. Sometimes, when I read him a bedtime story, he says he wishes it was you reading it to him instead.”
The disdain is bright on your face at the last thought. Damn kid is starting to like your boyfriend more than you. But the smile that comes over Jason’s face takes away any jealous thoughts you have about the matter.
“You gotta do the voices for each character,” Jason wags his finger at you. “He likes the voices.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you smack his arm. “Well, you don’t have to worry about him liking you. He likes you almost as much as I do.”
“You like me?” Cocky bastard.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” you move to turn away, but Jason grabs your hand and pulls you into him.
Your lips touch, and you instantly feel at home. Though you’ve had your ups and downs in your relationship, he never fails to make you feel like you’re the most loved person in the world.
“Yuck!” You hear a high-pitched voice from off in the distance. It sems your son noticed the public display of affection happening in his very own backyard.
“Shuddap!” Jason pulls away to yell before briefly kissing you again and then runs off to grab the little boy playing in the leaves.
You feel the chill in the air and the sunlight hitting your skin. Laughter fills your ears as you take in the sight of your two favorite boys. You’re home.
a/n: tiny fall drabble
♡∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) / づ♡
not a lot, just forever
summary: Kyle Rayner's ecstatic to learn about your pregnancy — you are too, but that doesn't exempt you from being a little scared of telling your family. Weirdly enough, the last one to find out is, apparently, the world's best detective himself.
pairing(s): kyle rayner x batsis!reader, platonic!batfamily x batsis!reader
word count: 7.5k
warnings: pregnancy (duh), vomit, swearing, bruce is GOING THROUGH IT, mentioned that reader has a therapist, reader was adopted before dick and was the first batgirl, mostly fluff, mention of reader's parents dying, every similarity between damian and dick was intended and premeditated, nothing else i think?
author's note: might feel rushed because I'm trying to learn to write summed up one shots instead of fucking books💔💔💔I love writing long fics but I often lose interest in them and after 30 pages and 16k words I really don't need that. this is also a love letter to milka's cookies because I am hungry and technically on a diet but I want them so bad
dividers from @uzmacchiato and @cursed-carmine!
GALE was the vocal one during sex. He was helpless and mewing half the time. His hands pawing and clawing at your hips with his head thrown back. He tried to watch you ask much as he could, but his eyes would slip shut. Especially when you anchored your hands on his chest to give yourself a better angle, to have more leverage. He was a mess of moans and panting out your name like a prayer. Every few rolls and snaps of your hips he'd groan and whine, a soft noise, quiet, deep from his chest.
"That's it- God's, that's lovely. You're wonderful at this, are you- ah-" A sharp moan left him, his hands gripping the meat of your ass. He kneaded it, using it to help you fuck him just the way he liked. "I worry I might not survive this.." He swallowed hard, choking back a pathetic whine. "My love.. You're a delight-"
He couldn't help it. You sounded like an animal, your keening moans and open mouth cries. You had made his dick creamy, like a crown at the base. His pubes sticky, navel tacky. You'd come once or twice on his cock. He loved that. He loved feeling those pillowy walls clench around him, trying to milk him for everything he had and more.
"I can't last- not like this-" His hands shook. He was tempted to pull you off of him, so he could have a breather. He was no stranger to edging, you found this wildly hot. How he'd force himself to pull out, panting against your neck in between mouth mouthed kisses on your neck.
Instead, he rolled you over, your legs hooked around his waist from the position change. He pressed your thighs to your chest, angling them apart. He pistoned into with abandon, the wet slaps mixed with your combined moans was a symphony of sin. His forehead pressed to yours, his eyes barely open.
"Look at me. Please." He was barely able to get the words out. His chest tight from the gasps for air, it was like your hot cunt squeezed the air from his lungs. You couldn't deny your wizard what he wanted, such a simple request. When your eyes met, one hand left your thigh to hold your cheek. "Hello, my love.." His words soft and sweet. So sweet. It went straight to your pussy. She was battered by all the attention he'd given her. It was all too much, he was pounding all rationality from you. The waves of another orgasm threatened to crash over you and sweep you away. Gale knew this. From the beginning he was so in tune with what your body was doing.
He used his shoulders to keep your legs pinned, his now free hand dropping down to circle your clit with precision. He felt the grip on his hair tighten, nails raking his back. "That's it, my sweet. Absolutely divine. Like you're a gift from the gods themselves.."
His hips stuttered, eyes fluttering as your cunt clenched him. "Gods above and below.." He buried himself one last time, staying in place as he spilled himself deep inside. His legs trembled as his seed coated your walls. he didn't pull out right away, his face resting into your neck, breath wavering.
His cum oozed out in thick gobs with every twitch and flutter from both of you, ruining the sheets.
ฅ^._.^ฅ absolute cinema
going back to my roots (writing 5 + 1 times fics)
A Mysterious Threat
pairing: platonic!batfam x batsib!reader
summary: When the batfam receives a call--claiming they know Bruce Wayne is Batman--they attempt to figure out who is calling.
content/warnings: fluff, no warnings just silly batfam stuff, gn!reader
word count: 1.1k
a/n: i was only going to do a short blurb, as i don't think anyone will particularly care about this. but, alas, i can't stop writing sometimes
“The call is coming from inside the house,” Oracle announces over the phone.
“Is that a joke?” Tim questions. You snort.
“No, you idiot,” you can hear Babs audibly sigh. “Whoever is calling is inside the manor.”
“How would anyone be inside the manor?” You ask, confused.
“Maybe someone’s pranking us,” says Tim, suspiciously glancing from person to person.
“It can’t be any of us,” Damian reminds him. “Everyone was together when the calls started.”
“I’ll search the house,” Bruce huffs.
“I’ll join you,” Alfred says. Babs hangs up—letting the group know that if she finds any new information, she’ll call back immediately—leaving you, Tim, and Damian to your own devices and theories.
One hour ago, the house phone received a call. A deep, grainy voice filled the silence, saying that he knows Bruce Wayne is Batman. He has cold-hard evidence that Bruce is the Bat. Before anyone could reply, the call ended.
Thirty minutes later, the mystery man called back, stating the Dick Grayson is Nightwing. And just a few minutes ago, Red Hood’s identity came through the call.
The group assumes blackmail, but there’s never any added information. After Alfred picked up the first call, Bruce picked up the second two. As he tried to butt in, the man kept talking. Completely ignoring Bruce’s comments.
Dumbfounded, the supposed World’s Greatest Detective’s called Oracle, Barbara Gordan, to see if she could track the number. And as she said prior, the call is coming from inside the same building you are standing in.
“Anything?” Tim asks Bruce and Alfred as they reenter the cave.
“No,” Bruce answers gravely. “There is no one in the manor. We checked everywhere.”
“I can’t imagine anyone would get through the security protections,” Alfred supplies.
“It’s weird,” you say, but are cut off before you can say anything else. The phone started ringing again. You look at the clock. It’s the thirty minute mark, not a second to spare. Odd.
Bruce picks up the phone and sets it on speaker. “I know that Cassandra Cain is Batgirl. I know that she is on patrol toni-,” Bruce slams the phone down with a growl, pissed at the thought of someone threatening his family.
“It’s age order,” Tim hums. “My name will be next.”
“The calls come in every thirty minutes,” you state. “Next call, I’m going to wander the house and see if I hear anything.”
“Assuming Babs is correct, you should hear someone talking,” Tim agrees with your plan.
“I don’t think anyone is here,” Bruce grumbles out, staring at the phone. He is undeniably a smart man, but when it comes to his family and his secrets, he gets a bit… stressed. And right now, it seems as if he wants to tear the entire city apart.
“Yeah, I doubt there is,” you agree, giving his arm a pat. “But it doesn't hurt to check.”
He nods in agreement, and you go on your merrily way out of the cave. But not before taking note of how quiet Damian has been.
He’s not usually loud per se, but he seems to be unusually quiet tonight. You could chalk it down to the stress of their identities being revealed, but considering his slightly smug face, you’re not that stupid. And suddenly, you have a sneaking suspicion you know what’s happening.
You walk toward the generally more polluted area of the manor and wait for the clock to strike. Once it does, you begin your hunt.
Walking straight to the younger Wayne’s bedroom, you find a locked door. Easy enough to pick, but you’re faced with another conundrum. There’s a chair blocking the door handle. If there is someone inside, the door makes sense. If not—which is the more likely scenario—your concerned on how the perpetrator got out of the bedroom. There aren’t any other ways out, nor is there a way out of the window that didn’t involve scaling the building.
You recall that Bruce’s office has an adjacent window, so that is where you head.
“Huh,” you say, as you stare out the window. Directly angling the office is Damian’s bedroom window. In a slim opening, a rope hangs from the window—which is on the third story—down to the grassy floor. Someone clearly has too much free time.
Opening Bruce’s window, you shimmy out. There’s not anything to grip onto or stand on while outside, so you sit on the windowsill and hold the inside of the room as you prepare to jump. Luckily, you have a lot of practice scaling buildings, jumping from place to place, and doing much more complicated things, but the lack of an opening will make it difficult to grab onto the window.
How the hell was he planning on getting back in here? You think right before making the leap, pushing your feet against the outer walls and releasing your hold on the office wall.
The window opening is smaller than you originally thought, and you slip. Grabbing onto the rope, you’re propelling in the air. You are going to kill that kid.
Hoping that whatever this rope is tied to is sturdy, you begin your ascent back up to his room. Pushing open his window, you slide inside, basking in the warmth. And, alas, you were correct.
On his desk sits a burner phone hooked up to his laptop. On the laptop is strange coding that initially confuses you, but you soon realize that it’s coded to make the call every thirty minutes.
You then notice that there is another burner phone attached to the laptop. One with recordings on it. Damn kid.
Making your way back into the cave, you make out quiet conversation—clearly, they are still trying to figure out who the mystery caller is.
While facing their backs, you begin to play the next message. Your message. “I know y/n is…” It’s not even necessary to finish the recording. The look on Damian’s face is priceless.
“You have some explaining to do,” you point at the young boy.
“T- t,” he stutters before his explanation. “Father threw out Alfred’s favorite toy!”
“Alfred the cat?” Tim asks. “Or are we about to have a very different conversation?”
“You did this because I threw out a cat toy?” Bruce asks, exasperated.
“Yes,” Damian huffs. “You didn’t even ask him if he wanted it.”
“He’s a cat.”
“So?!” Damian exclaims.
“Hold on,” you pause their conversation. “Let me get this straight. You created an elaborate code to automatically call the house phone, scaled the outside of the manor, and just sat here—watching us stress over nothing—all because you wanted to get revenge on Bruce for throwing out a cat toy?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” you reply. “Cool.”
“He scaled the manor?” Tim questions, not expecting much of an answer from the astonished group of people.
a/n: done with my smut attempts. i shall only write silly stuff for the foreseeable future
i'm busy thinking about boyfriend TIM DRAKE helping a hopelessly restless girlfriend study by rewarding her with his fingers every time she gets a question right...
mhmm.
"c'mon, baby," he coos into your ear, lips pressing a chaste to the skin underneath the shell of your ear, "you know the answer to this one."
his free hand taps on the screen of your laptop expectantly; the question, 'what is an operating system?' glowing mockingly against your face. tim's busy hand works tirelessly against your clit-- rubbing, circling-- pinching, every time you get a question wrong.
"i- i don't know," you stutter out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he presses the pad of one of his fingers to your clit hard.
his movements cease, before a soft smack! echoes throughout tim's bedroom. muffled by your panties, the spank tim delivered to your throbbing cunt sounded nothing short of filthy.
"yes you do." he says plainly, removing his hand entirely from your underwear, only to greedily shove his soaked fingers into his mouth. he hums at the taste of your arousal, turning his head to look at you through thick, dark lashes. "tell me."
you wrack your brain for an answer-- really, really trying to ignore how fucked out your boyfriend looks just from getting a lick of your slick from his fingers. "a software system; it manages, the... hardware n' software resources."
your babbling seems to have pleased tim (never mind how basic your answer had been)-- as his hand dives straight back into your needy pussy. he nods, grinning, "good job, baby-- told you you knew the answer, my smart girl,"
his praises send shocks to your core-- pussy clenching around nothing. you whine, bucking your hips at an attempt to get tim's slender fingers inside you. he teases you, fingers dipping in and out, barely past where you need them the most.
"next question," he hums, clicking something on your laptop; a new question appears, and you're already internally groaning. "what is inheritance? c'mon, this is intro stuff, s'easy," he coaxes, pressing another sloppy kiss to your jaw.
"god-- s'like, the child class can inherit behaviours n' shit from-- fuuuuuck!" tim cuts your answer in half, suddenly going knuckles deep inside you. you feel his fingers curl almost immediately, and your head lolls backwards onto your boyfriend's shoulder. dipping his head low to kiss the newly-exposed skin of your throat, tim hums.
"that's good, you're on the right track," his tongue darts out to lick the salty flesh of your neck, before he whispers, "keep goin',"
tim's adamant in his movements, fingers unrelenting as they press insistently upon your g-spot. "the d-derived can inherit behaviours from pre-existing parent classes," you gasp out, hips rocking against his hand, craving more friction, "it promotes code re-use--shiit!-- right?"
tim's free palm that had been resting on your laptop suddenly moves to grope your tit-- squeezing and molding the fat in his hands, tim grins against your neck. "good job, sweets," he purrs. "see? i knew you could study," tim swallows, fingers pulsing in and out of you with a purpose.
"you jus' needed the right motivation."
PLUVOiA '25 ® - masterlist
loren's thots: "nobody caaaaares about tim drake" i do have u SEEN johann fitch???
the lion does not concern herself with her wips. the lion starts a new project instead
House of Mirrors
pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader
summary: While at the fall fair, you and your boyfriend enter a mirror maze. He suggests playing a game. What could go wrong?
content/warnings: afab!reader, reader wears a skirt, porn without plot, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), implied that reader is shorter than dick if you squint, established relationship, mirror sex, it's implied that reader is a vigilante or hero but it's not important, petnames used: baby
word count: 2.6k
a/n: i actually hate this but im still posting it because idgaf
“I’m glad we came here on a weeknight,” you say, wrapping your hand around the curve of Dick’s arm. “Not too busy.”
“Not as many screaming kids as usual,” the colorful lights reflect off his face, giving him a color changing hue.
You look around and see various carnival games, food stands—all of which solely sell fried goodies, and a clown blowing up balloon animals. The crisp chill in the air causes you to shiver and further lean your body into Dick’s.
“I love the fair,” you say, as he maneuvers his arm out of your grasp and around your shoulders, shielding you from the breeze. “It’s my favorite part of autumn.”
“Reminds me of the circus kind of.”
“I bet the circus didn’t have fried Oreos and corn dogs wrapped in bacon.”
“We had popcorn and cotton candy,” he gives you a look. “Stuff that won’t kill you after one bite.”
“Sorry, I only eat food that leaves behind a grease stain,” you respond and let your gaze wander. “Oooh, let’s go there!”
Standing in your line of sight is a large, bright red tent. The massive sign on the front of the erect building says “House of Mirrors” in red and gold lettering.
“A mirror maze?” He gives an amused hum.
“Yeah, it sounds like fun,” you say excitedly. “I’ve never been in one before.”
“It sounds like a headache.”
“Come on, Nightwing. I didn’t realize being a crime fighting vigilante causes you to outgrow excitement,” you pull at his arm. “Live a little.”
“And by living, you want to go into a disorienting, dimly lit tent?” His eyebrows bunch up in a judgmental look.
“All I know is that Robin would’ve gone in with me,” you say with a humph, reminiscing on your childhood years.
“You act like I died once the suit changed,” he rolls his eyes, but starts walking towards the mirror maze.
Entering the tent truly is disorienting. It’s dark, with small amounts of brightness illuminating from the emergency lights that line the floor and the copious amount of strobe lights coming from the ceiling. This place is in dire need of a seizure warning.
There’s loud carnival music playing from a hidden speaker—or maybe multiple speakers as the music comes from all directions. The kind you’d hear at your average traveling circus or while spinning round and round on a carousel.
The first thing you see is… well, a mirror. Just one mirror. You see yourself, dressed in an oversized sweater, matching skirt, and sheer tights. Beside you, with a hand resting on the small of your back, is Dick. He is dressed in a blue sweater—one that causes the color of his eyes to pop—and a pair of jeans.
Together, you look like a copybook couple. Happy and in love; the ideal American couple archetype. A perfect pair—the type of people who might go to church together and marry young.
“It looks like we’re the only people who think that going in here sounds fun,” Dick says with sarcastic cheer, alluding to the noticeably empty area, the sound of other life obviously absent from the maze. His gentle hand guides you further into the tent, and alas, more mirrors. All of them are places along a large wall that seems to be blocking the maze goers from seeing the main event.
“Oh, shut up,” you smack his side causing a false wince. Silly boy. “It’s for sure crowded on the weekends. Plus, this way we can be as loud and annoying as we want without disturbing anyone.”
“Loud, you say?” He hums. “We should play a game.”
“A game?”
“Yeah,” Dick’s gaze is almost predatory, though you blame the look on the lights and shadows. “A game.”
“Okaaay,” you rock on your heels, an innocent looking move. Dick thinks it’s cute. “What kind of game?”
“You run,” his mouth forms a ghost of a smile. “I’ll catch you.”
“Like tag?”
“I was thinking more like hide and seek.”
“Hm,” you turn and walk through the official entrance of the maze, Dick trailing behind you. With mirrors in all directions, you suddenly feel a bit overwhelmed. If not for the fact that Dick is standing just a few feet away, you might have had difficulty figuring out where he really was. Each mirror shows a different angel from a different perspective. An optical illusion of sorts. “I think we should just stay together.”
“What? Where’s the fun in that,” he pulls you towards him, the front of your bodies almost touching. “Live a little.”
“Ah, using my own words against me,” you smack his chest. “Fine but turn around and give me a head start.”
He turns around and makes direct eye contact in the mirror. “I can still see you.”
“You idiot,” a dramatic sigh releases from your lips. “There are mirrors in every direction. Close your eyes.”
“Should’ve specified,” he shuts them anyway.
“Annoying bastard,” you grumble under your breath as you make to run away.
The tent looked big from the outside, but it somehow feels ginormous inside. As you run deeper into the maze, you wonder how the two of you will make it out without getting lost. You also wonder if Dick will even be able to find you.
He didn’t say how long you would have before his search begins, so you’re not sure when to expect him. As a few minutes pass, you continue to wander through the mirror maze. At one turn, you swear you see him, but when taking a second glance, he’s nowhere to be seen. You figure it’s not him as he would’ve seen you and in turn, gone after you. You’re the one hiding, not him.
Turning a different corner, you see him with certainty. You turn to run in a different direction, and there he is again. Damn mirrors. You then move back in the other direction and make your grand escape.
Time ticks by, though you don’t know exactly how much time has passed. It had to have been at least fifteen minutes.
Though he definitely saw you during the last encounter, he makes no quick pursuit. Choosing, instead, to trail behind at a slower pace.
What you don’t know is that he’s seen you far more times than two. He’ll admit he jested when you asked to come in here, but he’s also not ashamed to admit that he’s enjoying this. Enjoying the sight of you glance around and take cautious steps. You trust him entirely, but your anxiety at the thought of him—or anyone sneaking up on you is clear as day.
He sees you slip into a corner created by two mirrors. It’s a shitty hiding place and he can see an opening to sneak around without any mirrors giving him away. All he has to do now is wait. And as it turns out…
Dick Grayson enjoys the hunt.
Minutes pass and you still don’t hear any footsteps. Decidedly bored, you think it might be time to move spots.
What you don’t anticipate is someone grabbing you from behind the minute you turn the corner. Letting out a yelp, you struggle in his grasp. Realistically, you know it’s Dick. A little more irrationally, this game—and being alone in the maze—freaked you out more than you’d like to admit.
“Gotcha,” he murmurs into your ear.
“No fair,” you whine and turn around in his grip. “If I hadn’t moved-“
“Nope,” he cuts you off. “I’ve been standing there for about two minutes. Would’ve caught you anyway.”
“How’d you see me?!”
“Baby,” he gives you a look that says really? “We’re surrounded by mirrors.”
“Yeah,” you jut out your lower lip. “But I didn’t see you.”
“You could’ve seen me, but you weren’t paying attention,” he sing-songs into your ear and grabs your hips when you continue pouting rather than responding. “Sore loser.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Uh huh.”
“Let’s leave,” you shiver. “This place gives me the heebie jeebies.”
“No no no,” he shakes his head at you. “I won. Where’s my prize?”
“Your prize?” You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t think we agreed on a prize.”
“Well, I deserve one.”
“Hm,” your face still forms a confused look. “How ‘bout I buy you funnel cake?”
He chuckles lightly. “I have a different prize in mind,” he leans down and gently kisses your neck a few times before nipping at your pulse point.
“Dick,” you scold. “We’re in public.”
“There’s nobody here,” he pulls back a bit before attacking your lips. His grip on your hips tighten as you attempt to pull away.
“But anyone,” you mutter out between kisses. “Could come in.” Though your cheeks burn at the thought of being caught, you kiss him back with the same intensity you’re receiving.
“Don’t worry,” he hums. “I have good hearing. I’ll hear them coming before they even walk into the tent.”
He pushes your back against a mirror next to you and goes back to sucking on your neck. You lean your head back, giving him better access. Over his shoulder, you watch in a mirror as your face contorts in pleasure and shock as your boyfriend moves a hand between your legs.
“Dick…”
“Shh,” he taunts as he slides down into a kneeling position. “Someone’s gonna hear you.”
You’re too mesmerized by his clear blue eyes to pay much attention to how his hands run up your clothed thighs. Once his hands reach the section of your body he wants, he frowns slightly. “That won’t do.”
Suddenly, you hear a tear and feel a rush of cold air on your legs. The asshole ripped your tights.
“Dick!” you exclaim. “What the hell!”
“I’ll buy you new ones,” he huffs out a laugh. You almost forget your anger as he slowly pulls down your lacy panties. Clearly, someone was expecting to get laid tonight. Not that you’d ever admit it.
“Don’t rip those, too,” you grumble.
He ignores your complaints and shoves his face up your skirt, causing you to stumble. Dick grabs your sides as you find your footing. It’s impossible to stop a moan from escaping your mouth as his tongue swoops through your folds.
He begins slowly fucking you with his tongue. The strange sensation and wetness makes you grab at his shoulders. His tongue is going in and out of your pussy while his nose prods at your clit.
In a state of frustration, you begin gently grinding on his face, conveying how it’s not enough without actually speaking. Lucky for you, Dick Grayson is a very smart boy.
While removing one hand from your body, he runs his tongue from the core of your cunt up to your clit. His hand comes up between your legs and he slowly pushes a finger into you. Thank god Dick has never had a problem finding your g-spot.
The sensation of his mouth sucking on you and his long digit pushing at all the hard-to-reach places, forces a breathy moan from your mouth. He groans at the sound and adds a finger before shoving back into you.
As his fingers curl, you can feel an orgasm building up. With nothing else to do but hold onto him, you look at one of the mirrors again and watch him worship your body.
Your cunt begins to pulse at the sight, and you let out your release on his hand, whimpers and chants of his name falling from your mouth. It feels as if Dick is the only word you know. That’s a crazy euphemism, you think as you come to a saner state.
He pulls back, still kneeling, and he looks straight up sinful. Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he begins to clean them off, sucking every last drop that you gave him.
Your boyfriend stands up and grabs to fix your underwear but stops when you reach for his belt buckle.
You start undoing his belt, but Dick grabs your hands. “We don’t have to. Already got my prize.”
“We never agreed on what the prize was,” your hands break free, and you free his belt from his jeans, now making your way through his zipper. “I think your prize still has more to offer.”
“Fuck,” he hisses as you pull his cock out of his jeans. His size never ceases to amaze you. You run your finger over the vein that protrudes down the underside of him and he closes his eyes. “You make me crazy.”
“I want you to fuck me, Dick,” you smirk up at him as he groans. Your confirmation makes him flip like a switch, and he immediately shoves you against the mirror again. Raising your leg up, he helps you wrap it around his hip. It’s not the most comfortable angle to hold, but he makes it easier by supporting your ass.
With the now easy access, he grips his dick and slams into you in one movement. You both gasp at the feeling as he gives you a moment to adjust.
“Fucking hell,” he briefly leans his forehead against yours. “You were made for me.”
All you can do is nod in agreement as he starts moving. With your leg up, his cock manages to hit as deep as possible.
The two of you kiss, bite, and fuck as if you’ll die the moment this is over. You feel your second orgasm form in your lower stomach, and you start jutting your hips in rhythm with his, craving that release. That is, until Dick suddenly pulls out.
“Wha?” You can’t even finish your question before he makes you switch places, except now your back is to his chest.
He moves his body to an angle where he can easily access your dripping core again and slowly enters.
“Look at us, baby,” he says into your ear. With a hand beneath your chin, he forces you to look directly forward at the mirror in front of you. “Look how hot you are while I’m stuffing you with my cock.”
And he’s right. You both look hot. You can’t do anything but fall limply into him with shaking legs. It’s a mystery how you’re still standing. Meanwhile, Dick fucks into you with a rabid pace. His chin is leaning onto your shoulder as he stares into the mirror, eyes never leaving your face.
At this point, anyone could walk in, and you’d probably let him keep fucking you.
Without any warning, your pussy starts clenching around him and you’re coming. You throw your head back on his collarbone and let out a moan that is far too loud given the circumstance.
Feeling your walls closing around him, Dick releases inside of you. He wraps his arms firmly around your body and takes advantage of the view. In the mirror, you look thoroughly fucked out. Your facial expression is pornographic, and Dick can’t help but feel smug that this is all for him.
Once you’ve both caught your breath, Dick uses your newly obliterated tights to clean the inside of your thighs. Though the idea of you walking around with his come dripping down your thighs turns him on, he figures you’ve had enough of his kinky desires for one night.
“You know how to get out of here?” You ask, glancing around hopelessly.
“Uhhh, yeah,” Dick replies. Totally convincing.
“Ugh,” you grab his hand and head off to what you think is the direction you came from. “Better start looking.”
“Wanna fuck in the ferris wheel after this?”
“Shut up, dick.”
dividers by @cursed-carmine and @cafekitsune
Mmm, Dick Grayson’s favorite spot to talk to you?
It’s when you’re straddling his waist.
Not sexually - though, sure, it could lead there if you wanted - but more in the casual, cozy, yours and his little bubble kind of way. Just perched on top of him like you always do. Whether it’s on the couch, your bed, or even the floor, he prefers it that way. He likes it when you’re close. When he can lean back and look up at you, all bright-eyed and soft-lipped, when his hands can rest on your body and he doesn’t have to reach too far to kiss you.
There’s something about the way you settle against him, your knees on either side of his hips, your weight pressed gently into his lap. It makes him feel grounded. Needed. Yours.
And Dick, well, his hands always have to be doing something. That’s just how he is. Sometimes, he traces slow, absentminded lines up and down your thighs, his touch feather-light, thumbs brushing the curve of your legs. Other times, they hold your waist, gently squeezing, like he’s reminding himself you’re real and here and his.
If you’re having an off day - if your voice is a little too quiet, if your shoulders droop - he doesn’t hesitate. He just tugs you down into his chest and wraps his arms around you tight. You go willingly, cheek to the soft cotton of his worn T-shirt, his scent wrapping around you like a blanket. He sways you slowly, side to side, cheek pressed against the top of your head, whispering little comforts into your hair.
And other times, when it’s quiet, when your laugh is still echoing in his ears, he says it softly under his breath, barely loud enough to be caught.
“You’re so pretty.”
And when you get all flustered, ducking your head or trying to hide your smile, he just grins, that crooked little grin with one dimple and eyes crinkled at the corners. His bright blue gaze finds yours, and he tilts your face up with one warm hand, his thumb stroking your cheek as he coos with so much affection it makes your chest ache: “My pretty girl.”
He kisses you. A slow, sweet kiss. The kind that tastes like love and home. The kind that makes you sigh against his lips and melt a little further into his lap. His nose brushes yours when he pulls away, still smiling, dark hair falling into his eyes.
No masks. No hero talk. Just you and him, sunk deep into each other like you were always meant to be.
MDNI BANNERS | blues.
( requested by -> Anon )
hopefully theses are the blues you’re looking for, Anon ! they’re more towards the darker, more royal blues. :3 also i wasn’t sure what style you were looking for, so I just went with my typical banner style. good luck with your jjk theme :) !!
feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit 〜
support me through ko-fi | more mdni banners →
masterlist!
kyle rayner
⟢ hate sex
dick grayson
⟢ house of mirrors
jason todd
⟢ jason todd x afab!reader (18+)
⟢ jason todd x mom!reader
roy harper
⟢ just a crush
more coming soon...
heyy!! love your fics and was hoping you could do a wally x batsis reader? I was thinking of wally going to barry for advice (dating/sexual (?)) and then it suddenly gets brought up that is batsis!r he's dating and barry freaks because its bats daughter lamo. obvi only if you have the inspiration! love your other wally fics <3
FORGET EVERYTHING I SAID ( Wally west! )
summary | Wally goes to his aunt's house to ask Barry for some advice on a cute girl he's dating, only Barry doesn't know he's talking about Bruce's daughter.
pairing | Wally West x Batsis!reader
cw | This really inspired me to write about Wally again, it revived a dead stage(?
wally mlist
Wally had been a bit lost in his life lately. It wasn't that he didn't like what he was doing right now, but he had a strange feeling of not being satisfied with himself and his actions. He had only recently started dating you, and when he said short, he meant maybe two months. And yet, he couldn't deny that there were times when he didn't feel like he was enough for you.
I mean, you were a fantastic girl: pretty, smart, funny, and with a great family to support you. You were a great catch for any guy, and Wally couldn't help thinking that sooner or later he'd realize he wasn't enough.