[...]⠀⠀┄ ⠀ you know it wasn't easy escaping him. but you tried anyway. was it adrenaline? was it stupidity? probably both.
❝ including ⠀! ⠀matt murdock, benjamin poindexter & frank castle. ◟ warnings ⠀! ⠀headcanons, yandere characters, toxic behaviors, masterlist, english is not my first language 𖹭⠀⠀❞⠀
Matt Murdock
You almost make it out.
That’s the worst part.
Your shoes are already in your hand because you learned the floorboards creak near the kitchen. Your bag is light. Just essentials. Phone charger. Cash. A shirt stolen from the back of the closet.
You even wait until the city noise gets loud enough outside to hide the sound of the lock.
Click.
Silence.
Then—
“Where are you going?”
Soft.
So soft it almost scares you more.
Matt’s voice comes from the darkness behind you. Calm. Awake. Completely awake.
You turn and can barely see him sitting on the edge of the couch. Gray sweatpants. Henley half buttoned. Head tilted slightly like he’s listening to something far away.
Listening to you.
Your pulse spikes.
He hears it instantly.
“You packed three days ago,” he says quietly. “Kept the bag under the bed first. Moved it under the sink yesterday.”
You say nothing.
“You were waiting for me to patrol tonight.”
His jaw tightens just a little. Barely there. But with Matt, anger isn’t loud. It folds inward. Sharp. Controlled. Bleeding quietly.
“You lied to me.”
“You don’t let me leave.”
“That’s because every time you leave,” he says, standing now, “you end up hurt.”
You laugh once. Shaky. “You mean away from you.”
His expression changes at that.
Not guilt.
Pain.
Like you reached into his ribs and twisted.
He walks toward you slowly, careful even now, like approaching a wounded animal.
“You think I want this?” he asks. “You think I wanted to become someone you’re afraid of?”
“You lock the doors, Matt.”
“And you keep trying to disappear.”
His hand finds the wall beside your head before you can move. Not trapping exactly. Just there. Solid. Warm. Impossible to push past without making it a fight.
And Matt hates fighting you.
That’s the tragedy of it.
Because he loves you with every ruined piece of himself. In the obsessive, self destructive way men like him love anything.
Like punishment.
Like prayer.
“You don’t understand what it sounds like,” he says hoarsely. “Every time you cry in another room. Every time your heartbeat changes because you’re scared of me.”
His forehead lowers near yours.
“You think I can just let you walk into this city alone after that?”
His fingers brush your wrist.
Gentle.
“You’re staying,” he says quietly. “Even if you hate me for it.”
And somewhere outside, Hell’s Kitchen keeps screaming into the night while he stands there holding himself together by threads.
Benjamin Poindexter
Dex knows you’re leaving.
That’s the thing about him.
He notices patterns the way other people notice weather.
Your breathing changed two weeks ago.
You stopped touching him first.
You started hiding your phone screen.
Tiny things.
Tiny, tiny things.
And Benjamin builds entire worlds out of tiny things.
So when you climb out the apartment window onto the fire escape at 2 AM, you only get halfway down before a knife lands beside your hand.
Thunk.
Perfect throw.
Not close enough to hurt you.
Just enough to tell you he could have.
Slowly, you look up.
Dex is leaning out the window above you in a plain gray t shirt, staring down with those wide, unsettling eyes.
“You should go back inside,” he says.
Your stomach drops.
“No.”
His face twitches slightly at the answer.
Not anger first.
Confusion.
Like a dog hearing a command it doesn’t understand.
“No?” he repeats.
“I’m leaving.”
“You can’t.”
You climb faster.
Another object whistles past your ear.
This time it’s your own keys.
They strike the metal railing hard enough to spark before falling into the alley below.
Dex disappears from the window.
You barely get two steps before the fire escape door below slams open and he’s suddenly there.
Too fast.
Always too fast.
“You’re making this difficult,” he says, breathing heavily.
“You scare me.”
That hits him harder than screaming would have.
His expression crumples for one awful second.
Because in his head, he loves you correctly.
That’s the horror of Dex. He genuinely believes the obsession is devotion. Believes protecting you means owning every piece of your life before somebody else ruins it.
“You’re safe with me,” he insists.
“You broke my friend’s hand.”
“She was turning you against me.”
His voice gets sharper now. Panicked around the edges.
“You were happy before,” he says quickly. “You smiled. We watched movies. You laughed at me.”
You try stepping around him.
His hand catches your arm instantly.
Too tight.
Immediately too tight.
And he notices because Dex notices everything.
He lets go like he touched a stove.
“I’m trying,” he says quietly. Desperately. “I’m trying so hard to be good for you.”
Rain starts misting across the fire escape.
The city below buzzes in blurry neon.
And Dex looks at you with the same expression he probably wore staring at those baseballs as a kid.
Obsessive.
Loneliness.
Violence balanced on a razor’s edge.
“If you leave,” he says softly, “I don’t know what I’ll become.”
That’s not a threat.
Which somehow makes it worse.
Frank Castle
Frank doesn’t stop you at first.
You get all the way to the front door.
Hand on the knob.
Apartment dead silent behind you.
Then:
“You got five seconds to tell me where you think you’re goin’.”
His voice sounds rough with sleep and cigarettes.
You close your eyes.
Of course he’s awake.
You turn slowly.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, elbows on his knees, watching you. Old black shirt. Bare feet. Bruises fading yellow across his knuckles.
You don’t answer.
Frank nods once like he expected that.
“Alright.”
He stands.
Big man. Heavy steps. The kind that make the room feel smaller.
“You wanna leave?” he asks. “Fine. Tell me where you’re gonna go.”
“Away from here.”
“That ain’t an answer.”
“You don’t own me, Frank.”
Something flashes across his face then.
Mean.
Not theatrical anger. Not screaming.
Just that dangerous stillness he gets right before somebody dies.
But it disappears almost immediately because it’s you.
Always different with you.
“You think this is about ownin’ you?” he mutters. “Jesus Christ.”
He rubs a hand over his face hard enough to drag his skin.
“I seen what people do,” he says quietly. “What this city does. What men do.”
“And now I’m trapped in an apartment.”
“Alive, though.”
The words crack out instantly.
Alive.
Like that alone justifies everything.
Possession disguised as protection. Protection disguised as necessity.
He steps closer.
“You think I don’t know you hate me sometimes?” he asks.
His voice is lower now. Exhausted.
“I know.”
There’s no self pity in it either. That’s what hurts.
Frank already sentenced himself years ago.
“You should’ve let me go.”
“No.”
Immediate.
Certain.
Not even hesitation.
His hand lands beside the door behind you, blocking it without touching you.
“You walk out that door, I’m gonna follow you.”
“You can’t keep doing this.”
“Yes I can.”
Quiet.
Dead serious.
And there it is.
Not manipulation. Not bargaining.
Just brutal honesty.
Frank looks at you like a starving man clutching the last living thing he has left in the world.
“You don’t gotta forgive me,” he says. “But you ain’t leavin’ alone.”
[suggestive material below — reader discretion is advised]
IMAGINE: a variant of Mark gets captured alive during the Invincible War and Cecil, being Cecil, keeps him alive as an asset. He probably puts one of those crazy sound devices in his head to control him & makes him live in HQ just like the rest of the Guardian’s.
Now, enter You. Also a part of HQ in whichever fashion you see fit (personally, I’m a pencil pusher. A desk jockey. Office vibes). The variant peeps you immediately. His focus zeroing in on you like you’re the only thing in any room. Obsession: 100%. In his mind, he’s already claimed every square inch of you.
But our lil maniac’s gotta play good, for obvious reasons. 🥀
I mean, from here we’ve got so many options. So many ideas. So many storylines. Here’s one I’m currently hyper fixated on:
Mark, with all his charm and boldness, finds a way to wear down your attention over time. You start icy toward him, what with the whole “killing hundreds of people” thing. But he’s persistent. And observant. And handsome dammit. The man is handsome.
He finds out about a romantic problem you’re going through and is taking full advantage of the situation. He’s telling you how he can solve all your problems. How they’re ridiculous. How he can make them seem like a comedy in comparison to what he’s offering.
You try to act like he’s crazy. You laugh at him. You brush him off. You even go so far as to say his behavior would probably warrant Cecil making his head ring.
But Mark is nothing if not persistent.
And now he’s getting heavy. And convincing. So damn convincing. He’s telling you how he’s not doing anything wrong by being a “good friend”. And you’re not doing anything wrong by letting yourself feel something good. With him.
How he doesn’t see anything wrong with making you feel good. He wants to make you feel so good.
Now your head is spinning and — dammit, is he starting to make sense somehow?
He’s got you crowded against a wall in a shadowed corner of HQ. Your chest is starting to heave. Your pulse is jumping. Mark’s looking at you like he already knows what comes next.
FICS՞𐦯
The Matters Of Partners In Crime (ex-childhood bsfs, reader is unaware that jason is alive)
༝ being blackmailed with the mention of your best friend's name from the lips of a vigilante named 'red hood', who forces you to be his partner in crime is not what you expected on your first week back in gotham.
Death Has No Right To You (ak!jason x injured!reader)
༝ he’s not letting you go, even if you’re not his to lose anymore.
Chance With You
༝ an unlucky encounter with a drunkard in gotham is saved by a stranger. you just never expected him to be the overly protective type.
Some Protector
༝ when jason discovers that you were attacked by the joker whilst he was buried, his own death doesn't frighten him as much as the thought of nearly losing you.
BLURBS՞𐦯
Suit & Tie. (jason knows he looks good in a suit)
Taking Up Space (all the ways jason fills the gaps in your life <3)
Crawling Back To You (how devoted would he be to you? here's the answer.)
Headcannons of Jason (my cocky unhinged jane austen lover)
୨ৎ dick grayson
FICS՞𐦯
A Way With Words
༝ in his worst moments, he always thinks to find you first.
୨ৎ clark kent
FICS՞𐦯
He’s All That
༝ as a reporter of the daily planet, you haven’t been shy of your dislike for superman. clark is desperate to prove to you how superman, and by extension, him, is not as bad as you think.
Till I Lose It
༝ clark finds himself feeling jealous for the first time when you get assigned on a case with jimmy olsen, and start spending more time with the photojournalist instead of him.
Bet On It
༝ a bet in the office leads you to discover that clark, who you've been dating in secret, is really into roleplaying as coworkers.
Sweet Nothings (anxious! journalist reader)
༝ you’re a mess, but you’re his mess — and he’s going to take care of you.
EYES LIKE PRETTY LIGHTS՞𐦯
a collection of works for silly childhood best friends in love. big blue and his smallvile sweetheart.
Eyes Like Pretty Lights
༝ surprising clark with a visit at the daily planet, it sparks memories of the past and how some things never change, especially his eyes that still shine like pretty lights only for you.
Here Comes The Sun
༝ clark faces his first failure as superman, and he runs right back home to you.
୨ৎ damian wayne
FICS՞𐦯
Did You Get My Letters?
༝ damian has always struggled in voicing his feelings, so he writes letters. lots of them. he never expects you to receive them.. till you confront him with the entire stack.
In Spite Of It All
༝ when damian has his 'oh. oh.' moment after your strange, melancholic behaviour has him desperate to bring back your smile.. and realises he may not detest you as much as he thought.
Vexactious
༝ when you’re forced to partner up with damian wayne—the infuriating, perfect billionaire’s son who stole the number one class spot from you, you’re determined to make things work, even if he makes it nearly impossible.
The Only Exception.
༝ getting a list of everything damian hates, you feel self-conscious about ticking the boxes in that list—and try to fix that, not knowing that you’re damian’s only exception.
Knocking On Love’s Door
༝ damian wayne is at a total loss in the matters of love and winning over your heart, so much so that he dreadfully ends up on each brother’s doorstep seeking love advice.
The Heart Remembers.
༝ damian's short-term amnesia from a concussion causes complications when he refuses to believe the break-up ever happened—and his missing memories dissolves all defenses and unravels the true depths of his undying devotion for you.
Vow To Be Yours.
༝ you're convinced your betrothed, damian wayne, despises or at most—tolerates you for the sake of his duty. it takes only one moron to try and steal your hand to prove that damian takes the promise of being your future husband as a role he will never let anyone else fulfill.
Runnin' Back To You.
༝ damian wayne, in your memories, was the child assassin prodigy who had a horribly obvious crush on you in your shared childhood. years later, your return to wayne manor shocks you when the kid you once teased relentlessly has grown taller, meaner, into his looks... and is determined to make you regret ever tormenting him.
Flash Of Teeth.
༝ damian wayne has a soft spot only for you, and those who dare to think you are his weakness and try to exploit it by kidnapping you? they will only meet their end through his hands, and his undying devotion to you alone.
Beg You To Stay.
༝ you had always adored damian… till you overheard his complaints to his brothers on your clinginess. so why was it that when you decide to give him what he desires, he is the one trying to close the gap he desperately wanted?
Reign Over My Heart.
༝ damian al ghul never left the league, carved to become the sole heir to carry his grandfather’s legacy. as his betrothed, you’re meant to be a useful pawn, nothing more. not a soul could have predicted that damian will betray his only purpose and burn it all to the ground—for his one weakness... you.
The Kent Problem.
༝ the kents are warm, inviting—frustratingly likeable. all except for you, the kent who is somehow more disastrous for damian’s well-being than the rest. you are a case of destructive tendencies and a good-natured smile that irks him. he has to keep an eye on you, even if it means lingering around you, using poor jon as an excuse.
In A Hundred Lifetimes.
༝ landing in an alternate dimension—you're certain this version of damian who finds you should hate you as much as your damian does. but when he pulls you in so tight as if he's experienced losing you before.. you realise he isn't so willing on letting you go.
Faint Of Heart.
༝ post-mission, you land yourself in the hospital with a concussion. in your daze, you plead for someone to tell damian so he won't tear the hospital down to find you, for him not to worry. only problem? you and damian are supposed to hate each other.
୨ৎ misc.
phrases that get the batboys (d.g., j.t., t.d., d.m.)
୨ৎ tim drake (to be continued)
୨ৎ bruce wayne (to be continued)
how to be added to a taglist?
if you'd like to be added into a taglist for any of these characters, do comment the character's name in this post! e.g. damian
jason is about to start going on his diet to reveal the muscles he’d been meticulously building for months. just hiding beneath a layer of delicious pudge you loved dearly.
but secretly, you don’t want him to.
you’d miss the warmth that his body radiates off of him and how secure you felt in his arms at night. how soft his chest was with the extra cushion he’d had, though you loved how strong he felt beneath it all too. or how good he looked in the morning when he’d stretch, and his shirt would raise enough for you to get a look of his abdomen and the happy trail leading to—
“you’re staring again,” he says, snapping you out of it.
“sorry, can’t help it,” sighing as you sit up on your bed, comforter gripped tight in your hands. “i am enjoying the show.”
he makes the same face he always makes, the one that pretends that he’s annoyed but you both know he’s not.
slowly, his resolve crumbles and a smirk emerges as he walks back towards the bed. his hand extends towards you to catch your wrist, fingers wrapping effortlessly around and tugging it up toward his lips. he kisses the back of your hand and stares at you through his half lidded eyes, the whole time.
when you decide you wanted to go to the gym with him, you end up gawking at him the whole time. jason’s got the barbell over his head and benching at least six plates on either side. groaning at the last couple reps while you stand by the mirror ahead of him, dumbbell in your hand doing the worlds slowest bulgarian split squats.
after he wiped his sweat, you notice his gaze on you this time. he moves closer with some of his own dumbbells and his presence looms over you like a protective shield. it wasn’t even leg day for him, but he always stays near you like a human barrier. jason starts to work in with you, the weight in his arms a ridiculous size and amount that it looked difficult to carry. but jason didn’t look like he was struggling at all.
“hmm, like this baby.” he coos from behind you. one of his hands slipping to your thigh and the other beneath your elbow. “breathe a little deeper and drive your knees out.”
then he sets up the smith machine with no hesitation, lifting up the plates and putting them on the bar for you. he encourages you to lift heavier, says he knows you can do a little more than that. from behind you, his hard body was unmistakable, pressing against your ass. he groans when you make a movement. his warm breath by your ear was entirely distracting but you did your reps, finished your sets, and stole glances at him through the mirror only to find him already staring. you bite your lip to contain yourself, but what the fuck is the use anyway?
“see something you like?” he asks when he catches you for the nth time, shit eating grin plastered on his perfect face.
you barely make it to the change room.
tugging on the drawstrings of his sweatpants while he moans lowly into your mouth. he shuts the door with one arm while the other holds you up against him. he knows you don’t like to touch communal spaces, no matter how clean your gym may be. so jason holds you up against him, pulling your weight back into him over and over. moving your hips until you’re grinding back against him while his hands on your hips keep you firmly planted there. though he second guesses himself still and he watches you intensely.
“are you sure you’re good ma? we can go home.”
you shake your head vigorously, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck to bring his mouth closer to yours. “i’m not waiting jay.”
when you fucked like this, it was an out of body experience.
mostly because jason held your weight and his own like no problem and there was nothing to dwell on but how it felt. he places a large palm over your mouth when he guides his length through your soaked folds. dragging it up and teasing before pushing inside like he belonged. he let you moan into his hand and watched your eyes roll back in your skull. he shushes you by your ear.
“i know baby, i know.” groaning out quietly as he prods to fit himself in. “fuck— you’re so tight.”
tears prickling at your eyes already, you shake your head slowly while his hips make slow circling movements. “it’s cause you’re so big.”
jason smiles wide, hips thrusting a little meaner as he watches you try grind back against him, but still not to the hilt yet. “yeah? i’m big? but you like that shit don’t you?”
you’re nodding through the haze of pleasure, nails gripping his back as he continue fucking you through it slowly. not even fully inside, giving half just to pull it away. like being manhandled in the gentlest way possible. his strength unmatched and his body intentional, grinding his hips back into you over and over just feeding a few inches before taking it away. waiting to see you whisper in his ear that you need more, desperation evident.
then he waits until he sees the tears by your eyes start to dissipate before he gives you anymore. feeding another inch inside you, his eyes dropping to watch him splitting you open. but even after taking him before this, you weren’t used to his size.
“jay, it’s too much.” you gasp out, the feeling overwhelming. “it won’t fit.” too much and not enough at the same time.
“you’ve done this before ma.” jason tsks, “and said you could handle it. so you can take it hmm?”
his voice deliciously sensual already. you cave immediately. your lip trembles and you nod to let him continue. immediately you moan out loud enough for someone to hear and jason clasps his palm right over your mouth again. but he doesn’t coo you through it, his eyes stay piercing yourself and his rhythm picks up and pushes himself deeper. choking on his own spit at how you felt around around him but his hold on you remained tight. he stays buried for a minute to stare at you, watch you catch your breath and adjust to his size.
“can you move please?” you’ll ask breathlessly and he’ll shake his head.
“remember what i said baby. deep breaths.” mimicking what he meant, he watches you. breathing deep and letting it out harshly. when you copy him he smiles. “there you go ma.”
then he shifts his hips again and you lose your train of thought. more intense than it usually is, every movement he makes feels like it drags through you. like you’re pulsating around him and he purposefully continues. but his hands still on your mouth when he realizes that you’re close and he pushes further like he could reach the depths of you. kissing your cervix effortlessly while he turns your head to bite at his shoulder. cause it only felt like the good kind of pain, he’d say.
jason would feel his high approaching and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, reminding you how much he loves you like he wasn’t taking you apart without breaking a sweat, yet. his flush tip with the perfect curve, hitting sweet spots everytime. it was a good idea to make you bite down on something.
groaning into your hair, he lifts you sloppily up and down on him, creating the perfect friction. he almost whines when you clamp around him and whisper that you can’t hold on.
he pants by your ear and his voice is huskier than when he’s not like this. “gonna fuck you so full. take you again when we’re home.”
entirely feral just as you are for him, jason caves and sputters when you wrap your legs around him tighter. he’s just as gone as you and you’re practically begging him to follow through on his words. when you finally let go, that’s when he does too. shooting rope after rope and painting you deep from the inside. like the most beautiful and precious thing he’d ever held, he holds you through it.
his hips with a mind of his own, continuing to thrust up into even when your legs wobble around him. he keeps one arm around your waist, firm and stable while the other rests on the wall to keep him upright as he loses himself completely. still sloppily pushing back into you when you whimper and drop your head against his. that’s when he finally stills and pulls your hair gently, just enough to see your face again.
then he kisses you with all the sweetness the world has to offer. he deepens it as he eases you with both arms now, and keeps your legs around him so you don’t fall. letting lips trail down to your neck to leave gentle bites.
when the door gets knocked on hard, the voice that followed made both of your faces burn. suddenly it occurs to both of you that anyone could’ve heard you. roy’s voice is whisper yelling but you’re sure anyone could’ve heard him with how thin the walls are.
“please stop fucking so i can change outta my trunks. i’m chafing over here.”
His fingers curl inside you all the while he starts vibrating them. Your hips jerk, and a tiny whine leaves you. "wally," you breathe out.
"Hmm? Can your toy do that, baby?" he say's all smug. You'd called him complaining about how your vibrator had died. Naturally he sped over to yoour place instantly.
"wals, faster," you beg, even with his super speed you wanted more—needed it, needed him.
"greedy girl," he mutters and kisses both your cheeks. Then, the bastard leans back, fingers leaving you, your pussy clenching around nothing.
Your head falls back. "First my vibrator beytrays me, and now my boyfriend," you groan patheticly.
Wally tilts his head, his hands lingering at the waistline of his boxers. "I mean I was gonna give you something better but…
You perk up. "I love you." you pause. "alot." you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
"Love you too, babe," he mutters, leaning closer. He kisses you slowly before giving you what you've been waiting for.
masterlist
if your wondering why this is so badly written and short it’s cause i wrote this at a restaurant 💀and just posted it
you wake him when the baby’s being fussy d. grayson
fem!reader wc ! 2.2k warnings ! fluff but suggestive, mentions of unprotected sex, dickiebird is sleepy, bad humor, some talks of parenthood jokingly idk? 🗒️ very rare dada dickie feature i lit adore him. reblog and i’ll give u a kiss 😋 now playing ! babyfather — sade 🎧
The hum of the air conditioning unit permeated the darkness of the apartment.
Snickering to yourself for the upteenth time, you hugged your baby close. You were a new parent afterall, so you had to check to make sure you were holding them correctly, peeking beneath the folds of the blanket as you shifted your weight on the mattress. What a cute baby.
That is, if a baby could be one of the many plushies your ever-doting boyfriend Dick bought you last Valentines’ weekend.
It was doll-like and small, fitting in your arms perfectly for this great scheme. With a deep inhale to compose yourself, you clicked play on the Youtube video on your phone, teasing the volume button up, up, up, every few seconds.
Next to you there was a sleeping Dick Grayson, Blüdhaven’s finest — figuratively and literally — and Gotham’s resident heartthrob. He laid on his stomach, dark hair spread out over the pillow beneath him in thick curls and a strong arm thrown overhead. His right leg hung half off the bed from where it strayed out of the comforter as his fingers twitched softly in his sleep.
The sound of an infant’s wail came from your phone’s speaker, softer, then louder and even louder again. Your boyfriend did not so much as flinch. Desperate, you clutched the swaddled plushie to your chest with one hand and nudged him with the other.
“Dick,” you called out to him. He shifted only slightly. “Baaabe…” you murmured, pushing at his shoulder. “Wake up.”
With a groggy grumble in the back of his throat, he turned on his side, facing away from you. You scoffed, pressing the volume button harder as you bounced your sweet bundle of joy against your bosom.
You heard him groan and you nudged at him with your leg under the comforter, giving a small kick to his muscled thigh. “Hm?” came muffled into the pillow.
“She keeps crying,” you sighed sadly. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
At the sound of your voice, he turned to face you, his eyes barely opened and a sliver of shiny drool at the corner of his mouth. You almost laughed in his face. Oh, poor baby.
“Did you try feeding her?” He slurred with a yawn, loud and wide-mouthed like it hurt him to not be asleep right now. The noise made his brows furrow tightly.
“What do you think I’ve been doing while you were snoring?” You scoffed. “She just won’t sleep and I don’t know what else to do.”
“M’sorry,” he whispered, scooting closer to where you were until your shoulders pressed together. “I’ll take her.” Dick slid his hands under yours and retrieved the swaddled faux newborn, his eyelashes fluttering with exhaustion.
“You’re tired, you don’t have to.” Came your attempt at intervention, but he relented, his nose brushing the side of your cheek — his version of a kiss when he was between dreamland and reality — and he hummed, attempting to soothe the baby in his arms with a few soft rocks from side to side.
You pressed your lips together to hold your composure. No, you couldn’t laugh yet.
“Shh,” he cooed to the bundle in his arms, clutching it closer to his chest with another long yawn. “C’mon, let’s... let’s go beddy bye—”
“Don’t fall asleep,” you warned, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’ll drop her.” A weak hum was his response as his eyelashes fluttered downwards again, his head drooping ever so slightly.
“Dick.”
“M’ awake,” he inhaled deeply, shifting to pull his upper body up the slightest bit while his fingers strummed sweet little taps and absentminded traces of shapes over the swell of the swaddle where the plushie’s back was covered. “I’m awake, honest.”
A snort escaped you. “You sure about that, baby?”
“Baby....” he repeated, sweet and low. A huh sound was your response as you turned the volume down on the cries, the softest little hiccups lingering until you finally shut them off. He shook his head and murmured it again. “...baby,” but not Baby as in you, baby as in...
“Jus’ needed her Dad,” he hummed, his eyes sinking closed again. “Dada’s got you...” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You watched him rock the little bundle as sleep began to carry him away again, his shoulders slumping slowly and his head falling back against the pillow top.
You shifted closer to him, your face heating up just the slightest the longer you stared at him with the pretend baby in his arms and his face relaxed with sleep. He was so beautiful.
Carefully, you reached a hand out and brushed aside the thick curls curtaining his forehead. The corner of his lips curved upwards and you stifled a giggle.
He looked so peaceful drifting off, one of his arms secured around the swaddled plushie, both legs out of the comforter now. “Dick,” you whispered, your fingertips trailing his hairline then down his jaw, across the line of it then back up to his cheekbone. “You’re losing the covers.”
His fingers twitched against the blanket hugged to his chest and you smiled. “Hey, sleepyhead...” you teased, planting a brief peck on the corner of his lips. His feet shuffled back under the comforter, one slotted between your thighs. You felt him smile.
“Wha....time ’s it?” He slurred grogilly, eyes still closed.
“Early,” you hummed. He made a sound of acknowledgment in the back of his throat and you leaned down to kiss him properly like you always do when you wake him up. “You can go back to sleep.”
“Nuh uh.” Dopey, he smiled lazy and wide. “Kiss me more.”
“Yes huh, Sleepy Wing,” you laughed. “I just didn’t want you to wake up with cold feet—” his other hand snaked around your waist and you squealed, trying (or pretending to) wiggle away from him to no avail as he yanked you into his chest, nose burrowing into to your hair to steal kisses along your temple.
He smooshed his cheek against yours. “Ah! Quit it, you big baby—”
“Yeah, baby?” Dick teased, but the chuckle died in his throat the moment the last syllable left him. His eyes snapped open in a startle and he nearly shoved you away from him out of shock. “Baby!” he exclaimed, hoarse.
“The baby— she—” he shakily propped himself up on his elbows, eyes squinted half shut from the heaviness of sleep. When the swaddled plushie slid down his chest, he caught it in a delirious panic. When he looked down and realized what he was holding, he looked back at you, then to the plushie again.
It was quiet for several moments, and his brows knitted in half-asleep confusion. “Surprise?” You nudged his thigh with your foot. “Richard Grayson, you are the father.”
He ran a slow and deliberate palm across his face, then exhaled long and heavy. “I’m not awake enough for this.”
You burst out laughing. “Oh, my poor baby—”
“No, nope, mm-mm.” He shook his head firmly. “Not another b-word in this house.” All the while, he scooped up the swaddled plushie and carefully set it down on the other side of the bed.
With a grasp of his bicep, you pulled him back down next to you. His head hit the pillow with a soft thud, his thick curls fanning out. “Wow, I’m suing for child support—”
“Enough,” he groaned, faux frustration overpowered by a warm laugh tickling the palm you had cradling his face, moving his hair away from his forehead and bringing it back. “I really thought we had a baby. It was jarring. But kinda... kinda nice.”
Your fingers ceased. “You want a baby with me, D?”
There was a slight twitch in his shoulders as they tensed then relaxed again. “I mean... do you wanna have a baby with me?”
With a scoff, you shoved his arm. “Say it again, you didn’t sound unconvincing enough the first time.” He whined in protest only to pull you closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“...I’ve thought about it,” he murmured, barely audible.
“What?” You turned your head with a swift lean back to catch any sort of glimpse of his face. The pounding of your heart swelled in your ears. “Dick, I was just teasing you—”
“But, do you?” He tilted his head to look up at you. You swallowed. “I mean, really.” His hand found yours where it lazed drooped against his shoulder and he brought it to rest against the side of his face.
You closed your eyes momentarily in thought. “Maybe,” you whispered, eyes searching his face as your thumb traced the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
He laughed, hearty and warm. “Yeah?” His arms banded around your waist as he rolled over onto you, dwarfing you with the bulk of his body. Your legs opened to make room for his hips between your thighs while you laughed— a sweet sound he stole from you with a kiss that was soft and wanton, like you’d been married for half a decade already and this was just the Monday after a reenacted honeymoon.
“I could give you one right now,” he said, the words melded together against your lips. He tasted like toothpaste with a side of cookies before bed and all the flavors of missing you. “Or just for practice—”
“Funny. I hope comedy pays well when the triplets come.” You chided as your fingers sifted through his hair.
You sighed, his palm grasping hold of one of your thighs to lift it up and there your ankle went, hooked over his hipbone. “Dick—” your lips chased him and he ground you into the mattress further, clothed pelvis flush against yours while you whined for relief.
“That’s usually the tool required, yeah,” his grin was wolfish against your skin. His lips travelled down the bottom side of your jaw, then down the line of your neck, down it went and your fingers seized his hair harder when the prick of a canine had you keening.
“Asshole.”
“Baby,” he moaned, hips involuntarily bucking forward, harder than he intended but when you’re Nightwing and trained in the art of overpowering, there’s not much you can do to curb your strength. So you were pushed further up the bed and onto your phone, which you didn’t mind until it shoved at your shoulder blade.
“Dick—” you called out.
“Someone’s eager... been calling out for it what, three times now?”
“No, Dick Dastardly, my phone—” you arched upwards, twisting your body a little to the side to try and grab you phone. He moved your hand away and slid one large arm under your hips, lifting you with ease. You grabbed the phone and with his other hand he immediately snatched it away.
“Hey!” you complained.
He kissed you again, a little harder this time and you moaned into his mouth, barely hearing the soft impact of your phone being tossed somewhere on the bed. His hands went to your hips with a soft squeeze and you could feel the length of him hardened against your inner thigh.
“I love you,” he rasped out against your mouth. You exhaled a breathy whimper and his eyes glazed over with need. But just ust as you were about to say it back—
There came the familiar wailing of an infant on a perfect loop, piercing the quiet of your shared bedroom with hiccups and needy sobs. Both yours and Dick’s heads shot to the direction of your phone where it lay face down, the light of the screen peeking from the space between it and the sheets.
He looked to you incredulously and you shrugged with a shake of your head. “Nope, this is all you.”
He huffed like he’d been slapped. “Jesus christ,” he reached for the phone with one arm as he stayed hovered over you, the over planted firmly under you to keep you flush against him.
“Baby wants her dada, it can’t be helped,” you snickered into the palm of your hand. “Afterall, it’s good practice.” You felt his grip on you tighten a fraction, and he glanced over at you from the corner of his eye.
Once he’d fought and won against the virtual infant — and by winning, it meant he shut your phone off completely and chucked it onto the nightstand — he dived onto you like a beast on the prowl.
“Let’s have a baby,” Dick said in the middle of grinding against your thigh, your eyelashes fluttering from the heat of his body on yours. “You know, some practice.”
“Oh my God,” you howled with laughter at the way his face had even flushed at his own admission. “You’re insane.”
“Why?” he nipped at your bottom lip playfully. “Doesn’t baby need her dada?” You shoved at his shoulders with a fit of giggles that made him hang his head low, forehead pressed against your sternum in shame.
“I love you,” you whispered and he nodded, smitten, pressing soft kisses into your skin. “Yeah,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Don’t ever let me have cookies before bed again.”
dick grayson is not going to have sex with you tonight, sorta. dick grayson x fem!reader crack + smut. cw : dry humping, handjob, clitplay, titplay, no piv. he’s big, it’s mentioned. maybe cumplay? slight ric grayson warning yikes 🗒️ welcome to the writer’s barely concealed fetish (dry humping) lmao + forgive me pls now playing : undercover lover – smooth 🎧
1013 Parkthorne Avenue was a little world that belonged to Nightwing alone.
It wasn’t home, not exactly, and wouldn’t be for long if he finished his mission quick enough, but it was a place he could crash, a place to survey Blüdhaven’s streets, a place to patch himself up and beyond his better judgment he found himself turning it into an actual home — potted plants on the windowsill, a couple records on the shelves, hanging polaroids on the wall next to his bed.
A little bracelet you gave him still sitting on the nightstand. A neighborly gesture, you said.
Was she giving me bedroom eyes? Am I seeing things? He had whispered to himself that day as you walked away, the words catching the little wire clipped under his collar.
Oh my God, he’s got the hots for his neighbour.
“I don’t know if you remember, but just in case you forgot, Mr. Love Doctor—” The modulated voice from none other than Jason, Red Hood himself, echoed into Dick’s earpiece.
Dick huffed, the fist he had clenched around a rather generous little bouquet of flowers he got at that new place that opened downtown loosened slightly. A neighborly gesture, he told himself.
“But breaking your cover is against code.”
“What code?”
“The code I made up to stop you from blowing your cover over a crush—”
“It’s not a crush!” He argued back, and just then you’d opened the door. His heart lurched in his chest and he practically shoved the flowers towards you, your eyes widening in complete amusement.
“Is somebody dying?” You chuckled. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Ric?”
Ric. He’d forgotten that’s what he told you his name was. Suddenly he wants to die.
Dick shrugged, barely managing to muster that charming smile he was known for — his credentials being that he won ‘Most Charming Smile’ two years in a row at Gotham Prep, by the way — “I… uh, I was home and I figured you might be home… so…”
“So, you, guy-who-is-never-home, came all the way up here just to give me these?” You teased, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m flattered. What’s the occasion?”
He felt like he could swallow a rib with how nervous he was.
“I mean, what’s a few flowers between friends?”
“Right…” you pursed your lips in disbelief and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “You know, if you actually asked me out, I’d say yes.”
“Please!” His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “I mean, yes— please, I would love to. I would love to ask you out, is what I’m saying—” the words tumbled out and you erupted into a fit of giggles, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Come back here at seven, pretty boy.”
While he got ready for the unauthorized date, there was Jason in his ear again like the Devil from The Bible.
“Sooo, does she know Ric has like a dozen wires taped to his chest or are you gonna wait til you get naked to explain?”
Dick rolled his eyes, buttoning his shirt up. “It’s a first date, nobody is getting naked.” He eyed himself in the mirror, raking a few fingers through his hair. “And for your information I won’t be wearing a wire.”
A loud howl of laughter crackled into his ear. “Ten bucks she walks him like a dog.” It was Roy.
“Fifteen,” came the crackle of another comm. “You’re underestimating how easy he really is.”
“Babs?” Dick’s eyes widened.
“Sorry, loverboy,” she replied in his ear. “Money talks.”
He slumped at the edge of his mattress, fiddling with his shoes and grumbling under his breath. “Would it kill you people to give me some privacy?” Admittedly, the prospect of something more happening hadn’t crossed his mind until now.
Now he was really nervous. “It’s not happening,” Dick murmured, more to himself than his inquisitive audience. “I’m on a mission. I have great self control. I’m practically a veteran in the field. I can handle this.”
Jason whistled low, then singsonged into his ear. “You willing to put some money on that?”
Dick Grayson is not going to have sex with you tonight.
He’s Nightwing. This is a stealth operation, a covert campaign of intelligence gathering. He’s strong willed, he is determined. The wires are gone, so is his earpiece and he is a man on another kind of mission. He will not falter.
You’re looking up at him with those bedroom eyes again.
The conversation after dinner that had something to do with how he keeps his house plants alive had died the moment you said to him, “Hey, do you wanna see my plants?”
Now it’s just heavy breathing, bodies too close and tension so thick you can taste it because he was stupid enough to get walked like a dog to your bedroom.
Dick’s hand is under your top, cupping one of your soft tits in a large palm. His thumb gently circles your soft nipple, feeling it stiffen instantly. You have one potted plant by your balcony door. It looks like it died a week ago.
This is a honeytrap.
“…We shouldn’t,” he whispers, voice already wrecked and slightly hoarse from arousal, but he doesn’t pull his hand away.
Yet, you whimper softly and arch into his touch, pushing your breast harder into his hand.
He has two hundred dollars on this. Two hundred dollars, his dignity and the sorrow of letting Jason and Roy of all people borrow his car.
But he kisses you.
It starts tender — a little bit guilty, but desperate. Within seconds it turns filthy with your tongues sliding into each other’s mouths, lips barely catching on teeth and stifled moans trapped in hollowed cheeks.
Dick groans into your mouth as he squeezes your tit harder, kneading the soft, pillowy flesh. His mouth moves to your jaw, the length of your neck, the back of your ear. He’s kissing every bit of skin he can find.
His other hand grabs ahold of your hip, sliding you further down the sheets and flush against him. You can feel his cock, hard and leaking pre as it throbs against your thigh through his pants.
“Ric…” you moan. Right, that… that’s a problem.
Dick’s brows go tight and he lifts his mouth from your collarbone, panting as he rests his forehead against yours.
“You can call me Richard,” he breathes. “Okay?” You nod and he wastes no time to latch onto your lips again, his hips rocking forward against your thigh. “You’re so beautiful…”
You reach down and undo the button of his pants, the sound of the zipper almost echoing in the dark room. Your hand slides quickly into the fabric, under the cotton of his boxers to find him twitching at attention.
He hisses sharply. “Wait— fuck—”
“Oh my God,” you whisper, as your fingers wrap around his thick cock. You get them all the way around his girth on the second try and squeeze slightly. “You’re… wow, you’re big.”
Dick looks down at you with a shit eating grin and you roll your eyes. His mouth latches onto your breast and you arch up against him with a cry.
You start stroking him slowly, your hand pumping his cock while he kneads both your tits, squeezing and playing with them like they belong to him — or like he hasn’t seen a pair in centuries. “Fuck— that feels so good…” he moans against your neck, thrusting up into your fist. “You’re so good…”
He snakes a hand down and dips two fingers into your panties, marvelling at the wetness he finds.
He rubs over your needy folds then parts them, stroking up and down and circling over your throbbing clit as the front of your underwear turns dark from slick. “So fucking wet… did you get like this for me? Is this what you wanted?”
You whimper against him, your other hand reaching up to tug at his hair. “I want you,” you whisper, mouth meeting his again in a sloppy kiss.
Dick adjusts himself between your legs, the weight of him practically pinning you under him. You release his cock to push his pants down, your fingers slick with his pre.
“Come here,” he seizes your wrist and brings your digits into his mouth, the heat of his tongue licking your fingers clean and tasting himself on your skin while he rubs your clit, grinding the heel of his palm down with dizzying force.
“Richard— fuck— too fast—!”
“I know, just ride through it, baby,” he coos at you, kissing your hairline. His body folds over you as his hips come down, grinding his underwear clad cock right against your pussy.
He thrusts his hips back and forth, his hot, heavy cock humping you, as the thick ridge of his shaft rubs perfectly over your folds through your soaked panties.
“Shit, you’re leaking all over me…” he groans against your lips. “Prettiest pussy creaming just from this… I barely touched you…” He feels lightheaded from need.
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, your hand finding his length again, pumping him in short tight strokes while he fucks you through your clothes and torments your pussy with his fingers. “But it feels so good. Don’t stop— ah, Richard, please.”
Suddenly, Dick thinks he’s so easy. He can’t even find shame.
You shudder hard and your back bows, a silent scream ripping from you as your orgasm crashes down, thighs shaking around his hips and tears leaking from the corner of your eyes.
He kisses you while you come down — deep, passionate and hungry like he’s in love with you, as he grinds against your sopping cunt. Your panties are so soaked they’re sticking to your skin and the tip of his clothed cock as the obscene wet sound of fabric rubbing against your creamy folds fills the dark room.
Dick’s hand slides down and he yanks your panties to the side, exposing your puffy little pussy as you jerk his cock faster. You watch him as he looks between you two, your chest heaving, and the gears turn in his head.
So much for the code.
Now he’s got his underwear pushed down and his swollen cock directly against your bare, dripping cunt, sliding up and down, coating the length of him in your frothy cream, fucking up against your palm as you press down flat on his shaft, pushing his cock flush against you.
“Fuck, honey… I can feel how hot you are,” he pants. “If I put it in right now, I’m gonna cum.” Your legs wrap tight around his waist, each bump of his tip against your bare, sensitive clit has you trembling in his arms.
“Richard—”
“I know,” his breath comes harsh, strained. Your hips are moving on their own, bucking up to meet his every hump and the sticky sounds are borderline pornographic. “I know you want me to… Tell me you want it, baby.”
“Fuck me,” you whine, your mouth reaching his neck, the harsh bob of his adam’s apple, the underside of his jaw. “Fuck me, please. Feels so good…”
“Oh fuck, fuuuck, baby— I know, I know,” but he keeps grinding harder, faster, his pelvis nearly slamming against yours. You can feel and hear the plap! plap! plap! of his heavy balls pressing against you with every roll of his hips. “I’m so close…”
You’re both breathing like your lungs are turning blue.
You stroke his cock faster, hand flying up and down his thick shaft while he humps against your bare pussy. Every thrust has him sliding through your swollen folds, leaking all over you.
“I’m gonna cum—” Dick chokes out suddenly, eyes squeezed shut. “Oh fuck, it’s right there— I’m gonna cum—!”
You wrap a fist around him and aim it right at your pussy, pumping furiously and he lets out an open mouthed cry, so beautiful and almost girlish. His eyes roll back into his skull as he jerks forward, cumming hard.
Thick, heavy ropes of hot cum shoot across your pussy, dripping down your clit, painting your folds and soaking your hole.
You’re both panting, staring down between your bodies and Dick’s eyebrows pinch from the exertion, his arms wrapping around you.
He doesn’t think about the fact he’s now got two hundred dollars less to his name. Or the fact he quite literally gave you part of his government name.
“Hey,” he whispers into your neck once you’ve both stopped gasping for breath.
You hum in response.
“Can I take you out to dinner?” Dick asks, a hand stroking up and down your side.
“Sure, I really do need those gardening tips.” You nod against his skin and he smiles wide, absolutely giddy.
Well, who said he couldn’t possibly turn 1013 Parkthorne Avenue into a real home?
⟢ content jason todd x fem!reader, smut? idk man, not proofread
“Jason, please," you whine into your phone. It's connected to his comms. You can hear his heavy grunts and the bodies of goons slamming to the ground.
All that only made you wetter and more desperate.
Now you have needs. Needs that Jason can’t always take care of from miles away. That’s fine. You have your trusted pink vibrator. Expect this time it decided to give out in the middle of it all. You'd been thinking of Jason while you played around, thinking about how he'd whisper filthy things into your ear, all while somehow still being so sweet and careful. him trying not to crush you when all you needed was for him to do just that. it was all you could think about while you were on the phone with him, your body buzzing with need. You want your man to crush you.
"i need you," you beg, all sense of shame gone. Your fingers play around with your clit, but god, none of it—not even your beloved vibrator—had or will ever compare to your boyfriend.
He's panting on the other side. though, for completly diffrent reasons. "fuck, sweetheart, you know i cant—
"Then talk me through it," you argue.
"I'm fighting criminals, theres nothin' sexy about it." he grumbles. "Just a bit longer?" then, he lowers his voice. "please, baby?"
Nothing sexy his ass. As if any of that mattered when he has you talking to him so wonderfully.
"Fuck you, todd," you mutter, not really meaning it.
"Later," he says as he—you think—swings at someone becasue you hear a crack.
Includes: Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Wally West, Victor Stone & Garth
Summary: your feet start hurting while you're out, so he comes up with a way to fix that
Content/CW -> gn! reader, slight mentions of blisters/being in pain, mostly cute fluff
froggi yaps -> came up with this after i saw an instagram reel about it :p thought it would be something cute and silly <3 enjoy! also ty to @reallifeveronicasawyerr & @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger for choosing the characters <3 <3
Jason Todd:
“Jay,” you whine, tugging on his hand to slow him down.
He stops in his tracks, a brick wall of muscle, and turns to face you. “What’s going on?”
“...my feet hurt.”
He cocks a brow, glancing down at the shoes he’d definitely warned you about before leaving the house. “Uh huh?”
You only nod, hot embarrassment creeping in as you basically admit what he already told you. You shuffle awkwardly in your shoes, hoping to get some relief from the way the edges of your shoes are rubbing against the backs of your ankles.
And despite how badly he wants to say ‘I told you so’, he bites his lip. He can’t bare to see you in pain like this and that cute, somewhat odd looking shuffling you’re doing only pains him even more.
Jason hums, kneeling down in front of you, “come on, then.”
You’re quick to lean against his back, wrapping your arms around the width of his shoulders and letting his arms hoist your legs. Jason rises easily to his feet, hopping slightly to adjust you on his back.
You squeeze his shoulders, planting a kiss to the side of his face. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Roy Harper:
The sweltering heat of the day only makes your feet hurt even worse, each step making you wince. You wipe the sweat off your brow and stop in your tracks, Roy following suit.
“Everything alright?” He cocks his head to the side, red hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.
You frown, “my feet are starting to hurt.”
He offers you an incredulous grin, giving a half-hearted glance down to your feet. He hadn’t said anything when he’d picked you up this morning, but he’d thought it: those are not the shoes to wear when you’re going to be walking as much as you are today.
He laces his fingers through yours, tugging you along to a nearby bench and forcing you to sit. “Here,” he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and digging through it.
You watch him rummage through the backpack before pulling out a pair of sneakers that are very much not his size. You blink, “are those?”
“For you,” he holds them out. “Figured you might want them.”
You’re speechless as you kick off your old shoes, Roy handing you a pair of clean socks. You pull them over, your feet instantly soothed by the absence of your shoes, before gently pulling on your sneakers.
You look at him with teary eyes, “how could you possibly know I’d need these?”
He shrugs, grinning cockily. “I just know things, babe.”
Wally West:
“My feet hurt.”
Wally stops in his tracks, hand tightening around yours. “Hm,” he smiles, “I wonder why?”
“My shoes I think…”
He glances down, looking at the exact shoes he’d told you would hurt your feet with all the walking you’d be doing today. Still, they were cute and they matched your outfit, and you’ve never been one to listen very well to Wally, anyway.
He sighs, dropping to his knees on the pavement in front of you.
“Walls, what are you—”
You’re silenced when he lifts one of your feet to the top of his thigh, untying the laces of his sneakers. The switch is so fast you hardly notice it, your own feet feeling relieved when they’re placed in the warm comfort of Wally’s much too big sneakers.
He doesn’t even hesitate before he shoves his feet into your shoes. It’s awkward and it can’t possibly be comfortable with the way his ankles are hanging off the back end of your shoes.
“Are you sure?”
“As long as you’re not in pain, that’s all I care about.” He rises to his feet, doing a little twirl for you, “besides, I feel like a baddie.”
You can’t help but laugh a little, rising on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. “You are a baddie.”
“Damn straight.”
Victor Stone:
The ground outside the bar feels uneven beneath your feet, making you rock on your heels and cause your already painful shoes to rub even harsher on your heels. You wince, stopping in your tracks.
Victor stops the second you do, whirling around on you with concern in his eyes. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
“My feet hurt,” you mumble out, leaning against him to stand on one foot, rubbing the back of your ankle. “It’s fine.”
His brows knit together, arms crossing over his broad chest. It very much is not fine, not when you’re practically limping.
You recognize that defiant look on his face instantly, opening your mouth to say something when all of a sudden he lifts you into his strong arms.
“Vic!”
“What?” He says, half-hiding his smile, “I just like sweeping you off your feet.”
You let yourself relax against his chest, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of pain in your feet. “Mhm?”
He kisses the side of your head, resuming his walk down the street like nothing happened. “Mhm, makes me feel like your knight in shining…chrome.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, enjoying the warmth he brings to the cool summer night. His arms feel safe to you, like the most natural place in the world. You lean in, kissing at his jaw.
“My hero.”
He flexes a muscle playfully, offering you a wink. “You know it.”
Garth:
You’re limping. It’s the first thing Garth notices when he meets up with you at the boardwalk, the grin on his face fading just a little. You’re shuffling awkwardly, walking on the balls of your feet like anything else will cause you pain.
You smile when you see him, immediately throwing your arms around him. “Garth!”
He wraps his own arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Hi, baby.”
You pull away, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the way your heels rub against the backs of your shoes. It burns, and it’s definitely going to give you some nasty blisters later.
His brows furrow together. “You’re in pain.”
You shrug, “it’s just my shoes.”
Just your shoes? Garth shudders, he’s in pain just looking at you.
He laces his fingers through yours, shaking his head. “Come on.”
You let him drag you down the boardwalk strip, past all the souvenir and food shops and into the air conditioned hut of a store that mainly sells bathing suits, towels and flipflops.
“Go, pick out a pair.”
“Garth, it’s fine.”
He levels you with a serious look, “I’m not gonna be able to rest until I know you’re not in pain so please, just pick some out.”
And you give in like you always do, examining the shop wall and settling on a pair of comfortable looking sandals. Before you go up to the counter to pay, Garth snatches them from your hand, paying for them before you even have the chance to say no.
Outside, he kneels down in front of you, replacing your uncomfortable shoes for the nice, cozy flip flops he’d just bought for you.
He pats your foot gently when he puts it down. “There, all better.”
You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Thank you, baby.”
dc masterlist | navigation
thanks for reading & have a wonderful weekend /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
SOON-TO-BE-FWB!DICK GRAYSON, who never would’ve touched the idea of a casual, no-strings relationship with a ten foot pole. He didn’t want to use someone, it felt inherently wrong. To only expect sex and nothing else on top of it, it didn’t sit right with him.
But when you, his coworker and long time mission partner, pushed him against a side table and knocked over his key dish in the pursuit of your lips on his and his clothes on the ground, he found himself melting into it. Reaching out and gripping the back of your neck and moaning as your lips dragged over his Adam’s apple.
“I normally get wined and dined first—” he joked breathlessly before his subsequent whine was swallowed be your eager lips to shut him up. Your hands tugged off his v-neck (cashmere, by the way) and let it frump to the floor in an undignified pile.
Oh, fuck it.
Your panties bunched at your ankles as he fucked into you, palm flat on the wall and his moans echoing into your neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the hollow. “Yeah, fuuuuck, baby, just like that,” He panted, his button up hanging open. Maybe he was more into this idea than once thought.
Your knees were at his hips, the side table rattling with every upward stroke of his cock that kissed your cervix beautifully. Holy shit, you literally had no words.
“You gonna come, honey?” Hypocritical when he was five seconds away from coming, but he couldn’t help it plus the inherent need to know he wasn’t going to embarrass himself. But the way your pussy walls were fluttering around his dick, you were too. Thank heavens.
He cupped your jaw and consumed your soul through your lips, burying himself in you to the hilt one last time, a deep moan from his mouth shocking one out from you too as you too came five seconds after him. Not really kissing anymore, just his nose smushed awkwardly on yours so you could see the pretty flush on his cheeks and his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks, panting as if he’d run a marathon.
“Shitfuck.” He breathed, the most he’d cursed within ten seconds, wiping a bead of sweat off your temple before kissing it. A little too romantic for your tastes, but you allowed it. “Oh, that’s not right.” He muttered, his stupidly hot blue eyes flicking over your naked body.
Was he gonna say this should never happen again? “What’s not right?”
He leaned forward, running the tip of his nose over yours so you jugular. His floppy hair tickled your jaw. “I didn’t,” He kissed a random spot softly, “eat you out first.”
“Did you want to?” You blinked.
“To be honest, I didn’t see this situation coming,” You both laughed breathlessly, but then his finger ran over your slit lazily, collecting your juices with a quiet shlick. Your thighs trembled.
“Shiiiit—”
“But after you came on my cock like that,” He began to genuflect, “I wanna feel it on my tongue.”
༊*·˚ 18+, mdni, jealous!aang x brat!reader, reader purposely makes aang jealous, dom!aang, brattamer!aang, rough sex, mating press, doggy, hair-pulling, mirror sex, nsfw, heavy plot
༊*·˚ jealous type series : table of contents
────୨ৎ────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe day that the Fire Nation finally surrendered and went into Zuko’s hands, peace surrounded the world. The group rebuilt cities alongside its people, Zuko became the Fire Lord, Toph formed the Beifong Metalbending Academy while you, Aang, Katara, and Sokka focused on dismantling the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom to restore harmony.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤEventually after years of hardwork, both Zuko and Aang transformed the oldest Fire Nation colonies into the United Republic of Nations—quite known as the Republic City.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤRepublic City glittered under the night sky, strung with lanterns that swayed gently in the warm breeze. Music echoed through the streets, drums and flutes blending with laughter as dancers filled every open space. The Harmony Festival had become a symbol of everything they fought for—every nation together, no fear, no borders.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd at the center of it all—was the Avatar.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang stood among friends, smiling easily, greeting people as if the weight of the world had never rested on his shoulders. He moved through the crowd with that same lightness people admired—kind, patient, endlessly warm.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut there was one thing about Aang that most people didn’t notice.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe wasn’t as unshakable as he seemed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNot when it came to you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
────୨ৎ────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang prides himself in being a monk. He was vegan, practiced non-attachment, compassion, and a pacifist. He was always patient, kind, and everyone felt safe around him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe world around him celebrated for another year in finally restoring peace and balance to the world. They celebrated around him like he was the symbol of peace—balance even—and unwavering goodness. And believe me, he is.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut that’s the problem. People only saw the version of him that saved them—that saved the world.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThey didn’t see what it cost to hold that kind of power so carefully. To choose and pick over and over again—to be compassionate—to be a leader that everyone needed and wanted.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut you—the one who stood so beautifully under the Harmony Festival's glow—saw right through him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou held him in his arms just when he was about to break. You reached out to him when he lost control of his Avatar state. You who’d seen how tired he was in the middle of all this chaos and still manages to be a kind hearted man.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou hated that—not really—but more like disliked how he puts himself aside.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤJust like now, he stood in the middle of the festival, greeting people like they were old friends. He looked so warm and open but he looked too composed for your liking.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou’ve seen Aang lose his patience once and that was the time he lost Appa in the desert. It was a rough moment because at some points, he left you and the group alone to search for his beloved bison. But that didn’t stop you from teasing him for it after.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Hey Aang, how come you’re so patient with me?” You asked him the night when you reached Ba Sing Se as he helped you comb your hair. He hummed as he shrugged, though still sensitive, held more control when he’s talking to you and only to you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“I just love you too much.” He replied with that bright smile that you love dearly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut now as you stared at him laughing like nothing could truly ever get under his skin after that incident, you decided you were going to be a problem tonight.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe plan was simple—talk to someone easy to get, laugh alongside them, and hopefully—hopefully—Aang notices and that calm, happy composure he held dearly will break.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou stand close to a dinner bar, smiling so brightly at the man who stood behind the table who gawked at your presence.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNow you weren’t as powerful as your boyfriend or friends, but you were an earth bender that used earth bending in a different way. A way that you used your own bending as a weapon.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Can I have a beer please?” You asked the man who stood behind it, tilting your head as you smiled as you watched the man fumble with his words and poured you a beer.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSomeone sat beside you, deliberate—hinting at something—as he slid his money to pay for her drink.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou pretended to listen as he talked to you—heck you barely even caught his name. But you didn’t care.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou laughed—light, effortless, and just a little louder than necessary. It wasn’t real but convincing enough that it made you pause at the intense stare on your back.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou didn’t need to turn to know whose eyes were those. You could practically feel it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSlowly, you glanced over and sure enough—Aang was staring. Not openly enough for others to notice but enough for you to notice.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤOh dear spirits, you always notice.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤJudging by the way Aang had gone very still across the plaza, you deemed your plan was working.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou hid your smile behind the rim of your drink, pretending to listen as the guy beside you kept talking—yapping. You can give it to him—he was nice—but he was too obvious with his interest for her but then again, useful.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“—so I’ve been coming to this festival every year.” He was saying.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Really now?” You replied, tilting your head as you let your voice soften a bit. “That’s adorable.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou didn’t miss the way he lit up at that.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤOr the way Aang’s posture stiffened in the distance.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤPerfect.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou laughed again and this time, you let your hand brush the stranger’s arm for just a second.
────୨ৎ────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Aang.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“I’m not going over there.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSokka snorted. “You’ve been saying that for the past two minutes.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang glared, rubbing his temples as he turned around. “I’m fine.” He said flatly as he felt something twisting tight in his chest.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You need to breathe.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“I am breathing.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You look like you’re about to start a new war.” Aang didn’t respond after that because you laughed again and this time—you didn’t look at him at all.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSomething low and unsettled stirred under his ribs—something he didn’t like, something he didn’t recognize in himself.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe trusts you, of course he does. But that was the problem. He knew you were an extrovert, just as extroverted as he is, but watching someone else have your attention—your laughter—made something stir inside his guts.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe watched as you both locked eyes, his own narrowing as if saying to not start with him making you smirk and look back at the guy you were talking to.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“She’s doing it on purpose.” He said firmly, eyes not leaving her back as he tilted his head with this intense stare. “Why?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSokka glanced at him as he leaned back against the chair with a cup in hand. “Because she knows you.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThat didn’t help him, if anything—it made it worse. You knew exactly what this would do to him and you were still doing it anyway.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤJust as he glanced back at her, the guy placed his hand on something that was his. You. And before Aang could think, he was already moving.
────୨ৎ────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou felt him before you saw him. The small cold shift in the air, the grounding presence, that pull. And yet you don’t turn to look at him as you smiled.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Care to join me for a walk?” The guy asked, trying to be as polite as possible as his hands betrayed him and held her lower back.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou smiled, a bit coldly but tried to keep it natural as you shook your head and chuckled. “No thanks, my boyfriend is on the way.” You said and just in time you turned around and met a broad chest. Aang’s chest.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou swallowed as you felt his hands, much bigger than yours, held your lower back and looked at the guy with quiet authority and dominance. The guy shrank upon realizing whose girlfriend he as hitting on as Aang stared him down.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAs he and the guy had a staring contest, you gulped as you didn’t move from your spot, your mind racing as you can smell the masculine perfume on his chest as he pulled you closer. You were much smaller than him, probably only the same height as Katara, and that did wonders to your mind.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis hand held yours softly but you knew he was at his limit when you felt his eyes bore into yours as you looked around smiling innocently. His eyes were on you—once that held softness now gone in a blink.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” He said as he gave the bartender your unfinished beer back for you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou smiled, tilting your head and feigning innocence. “I was! He had lots of interesting stories.” You said giggling as you looked up at him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang hummed as he listened to you ramble, his eyes trailing down your neck to your lips. Oh he wasn’t listening anymore. His mind is occupied with things on how he’s going to deal with you, how he’s going to put discipline into that innocent mind of yours.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou knew he was planning something in his mind and that only made you more determined to push him further.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” He said, his voice low with no hesitation. You smiled lightly, slow and deliberate. “Yeah.” You respond with no hesitation.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBeside you, the poor guy who had unknowingly been pulled into this shifted awkwardly, glancing between the two of you as if only just realizing he had stepped into something far too heavy for him to understand completely.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Maybe I should—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Go.” Aang said, his eyes never leaving yours as he only glanced up for a moment with the look of coldness in his eyes—and that made the tension sharpen.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe guy scrambled to his feet, smiling and bidding the two goodbye and have a great festival. He slipped away quickly and ran to the crowd, leaving behind a space that suddenly felt too small despite the noise surrounding them.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNow that you two were alone, you felt him pull you away from the food stall and towards Appa. He didn’t say anything—and that made you nervous. Nervously excited.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou and him flew away from the festival with him on Appa’s head. You gulped as you stared at him, his broad back lingering in your mind as you imagined your nails trailing on his back–
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You’re jealous.” The words left your lips, touched with that same careless amusement you’d been wearing all night as if this were still a game that you could dip in and out of whenever you pleased.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang didn’t reply but could feel the shift in the air as he adjusted the way he sat as he descended from the skies and landed perfectly on their house. He looked at you, eyes never wavering as he jumped down from Appa and helped you. “Yeah.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe admission came low, unguarded, settling between you with a weight that made something in your chest tighten before you could stop it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤFor a second, it stole the breath right out of you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut you recovered quickly—of course you did.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYour lips curved, slow and deliberate, that familiar spark of mischief slipping back into place as you tilted your head, letting your gaze drag just slightly across his face.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Good.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou expected something—anything.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤA protest. A sigh. That quiet, patient disappointment he sometimes slipped into when you pushed too far.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤInstead, Aang stepped forward.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNot abruptly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNot emotionally.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut with a kind of controlled intention that made the movement feel heavier than it should have. Measured and certain.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd suddenly, the space between you—the one you had been playing within, stretching, controlling was gone.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Is that what you wanted?” he asked.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis voice was lower now, stripped of its usual softness, grounded in something that didn’t bend around you the way it normally did. It settled into you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYour pulse stuttered. Still, you held your expression, lifting your chin just slightly, refusing to give up the upper hand you’d been clinging to all night.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Maybe,” you replied. The word came out lighter than you felt.
Aang’s gaze didn’t flicker. Not even for a second.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You wanted me to get jealous,” he continued, his tone even, almost thoughtful—but there was something coiled beneath it now, something restrained, something aware, “so you flirt with someone else right in front of me.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤIt wasn’t a question. And that—more than anything—made your breath catch. Because he wasn’t guessing, he knew.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou swallowed, barely noticeable, and forced your shoulders into a loose shrug. “It worked, didn’t it?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤFor a moment, nothing changed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThen Aang exhaled—slow, quiet, like he was letting something settle rather than pushing it away.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd then his hand moved. You didn’t even realize it until his fingers closed around your wrist.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤWarm.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤFirm.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤUnyielding.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNot rough—not even close—but anchored. Like he wasn’t going to let you slip out of this one.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Yeah,” he said. “It did.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe contact sent a sharp, unexpected awareness up your arm, settling somewhere deeper than you were prepared for.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYour breath hitched—soft, involuntary—and he noticed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤOf course he did.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBecause his grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make you aware of it. Of him. Of how easily he could hold your attention now the same way you’d been pulling his all night.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You like pushing me,” Aang said, quieter now. His thumb shifted faintly against your wrist—slow, deliberate, not absent-minded in the slightest. “Seeing how far you can go.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYour heartbeat stumbled, but you lifted your chin anyway, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to let the shift unsettle you—not completely. “And you like pretending nothing gets to you,” you shot back.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤFor a brief moment—so quick most people wouldn’t have caught it—something flickered in his expression. Not irritation. Not anger.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSomething sharper. Something that looked almost like… recognition.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Careful,” he murmured.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe word wasn’t raised, wasn’t harsh, but it landed heavier than anything else he’d said.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYour breath caught again, traitorously, your pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with the festival anymore. His head tilted with unamused eyes as he looked down at you with authority—one that commanded you to test him now that he was in front of him—challenged you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You wanted a reaction,” he continued, his voice low and tempting—filled with the desire to push you up against the wall—as he stepped closer—not invading nor forcing, just closing the space with quiet certainty.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis finger held your chin, lifting your head to let your shocked and flustered eyes meet his pent up ones. His thumb grazing over your bottom lip as he gazed at you with a look that you—yourself—don’t even know what you signed up for. “Don’t act surprised when you get one.” He said as he leaned down.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis breath was hot against yours as he looked at him with amusement at how you groveled when he stared down at you. “Because I’m afraid you might not be able to take it, my sweet mist.” He whispered against her lips and pulled away.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBefore he could step away to their room, you looked at him—annoyed yet so beautiful—as your hands fisted on your sides. “Well aren’t you a coward.” You said, making him stop in his steps.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBingo.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou chuckled slowly as you stared at his back, eyes brimming with amusement and need but held a frown when he pulled away, still holding himself back. “If I couldn’t take it, I wouldn’t even start talking with that guy.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe tension shifted again—less sharp, more real. You walked to him as your hand pressed faintly into his chest without you realizing, grounding yourself against him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“…Then show me,” you murmured, your voice as defiant as you looked as you frowned and looked at him. “Show me how you lose composure or I’ll unravel you myself.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThat was it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang looked at you, chuckling slowly at the audacity of how you could be such a brat. His hand caught hers and the other held her jaw, eyes dark with no mercy. His thumb grazed your bottom lip—your breath hitched while your heart raced against your chest, unable to process how he looked at her..
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You better take it like a good girl.”
────୨ৎ────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou once thought that Aang wouldn’t be a rough fucker since whenever you two make love, he was always loving—careful even—but not until he had you on a mean mating press with your legs locked on his shoulders as he pinned your hands above your head.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“There we go, take it baby.” He said, smiling darkly as he pushed inside you so carefully—so hauntingly that you could feel every pulse of his erection.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou barely even had time to react when he suddenly thrusts inside with full force and spirits does it make you feel so full.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYour cries echoed the room as he held you down on the mattress, his body crushing you under him as you could only cry and arch your back. “Aang! Go slowly!” You moaned, whimpering loudly when he thrusts inside once more.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“You told me you’ll take it, remember baby?” He taunted, chuckling loudly as his pace got faster—harder—as the bed creaked at every move he made.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis weight pressed her into the sheets as his hands roamed possessively over your body—waist, hips, thighs—before setting firmly against the bare skin of her back. Your back arched, eyes closed as you let out a shaky moan while he leaned down and kissed your neck.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Such a good girl.” His breath whispered against your skin, smiling as he unraveled you—slowly. He dragged his tongue down to your collarbone, sucking your neck just enough to leave a mark.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang’s grip on her wrists tightened as he looked at you. You panted as your eyes showed submission as you whimpered when he thrusted back in. His mind wandered off, thinking of how he always—always—wanted to go rough on you.But he was nice—that nice golden retriever avatar everyone loved—he didn’t dislike the idea just skeptical of how you’ll react.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd now that he has you underneath him—begging and whining for him and his cock—why in the world would he stop now?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou barely had the time to gasp before he pulled out. Your heart racing but confusion etched your face as you looked up at him. “Why did you stop?” You asked, holding his arm while your glossy eyes looked up at him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤOh how your eyes begged for him to ruin you. How you looked at him with want. A need to be satisfied. But he wasn’t satisfied with it. No, He wouldn’t be satisfied with you only coming on his fingers earlier.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Would that gentleman fuck you this good baby hm?” Aang said with his head tilted and pushed you back onto the mattress again, throwing you around so you laid on your stomach. He pulled you up on all fours while facing the mirror at the end of the bed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd dear Gods, does he love the look of confusion and submission when he sees you through that mirror. He chuckled, spreading your ass before delivering a mean smack on your ass making you cry out.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou cried—shocked—but the way your walls clenched in thin air made him smile at you and pull your hair up so you looked at yourself. “Look at yourself baby.” He whispered as he leaned down while looking at you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Look at how much of a wreck you are.” Your eye widens and let out a loud whimper when he suddenly pushed in. He could’ve given you a warning, but he knew you would’ve liked it better if he didn’t.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis thrusts got meaner and meaner. Pulling your head back as he made you look at yourself in the mirror crying for him. “Would that man satisfy you as much as I do?” He whispered again, groaning.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe had never seen you this beautiful. So wrecked, so fucked, so wet. But he was far from done.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou cried when he bit your bare shoulder, his other hand slid down between your legs. His fingers trailed on your inner thigh, your juices cleaned his fingers as you moaned. “Aang please–!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHis thrusts stops as his head lifted up, his eyes glowing a faint blue hue. He lifted his hand, humming in reply as he sucked on his fingers. “Please let me cum.” You begged, tired of him denying you of your release.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Have you learned your place?” He asked gently, his hand holding your jaw as he made you look at the mirror, eyes dark with intent as he kissed the side of your ear. “Do you know who do you belong to now?” He asked.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou who started the ‘make Aang jealous and lose his composure’ was rendered speechless. You never knew how this man—the same gentle and patient man—was being this dominating. You wouldn’t even know how he always wanted to fuck you this bad.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤA thrust woke you up from your day dream making you cry out a moan as he continues holding you. “Do you baby?” He whispered again as he looked at you waiting like a predator for its prey.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou gulped, feeling his hand slowly etched around your numb clit—whining and head falling onto the mattress until he pulled it back up with a mean thrust. “You!” You cried. “I belong to you!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤAang chuckled, dark and breathless as he felt your body tense against him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe leaned down, his breath hot against her skin as he nipped at her ear, his teeth grazing the shella s he whispered, “Good girl.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe released the hand that held your hair, slowly threading through your hair to your neck and held you, making you cry but loved it so much that you managed to push your hips back again as if signalling him to thrust again making he groan with a satisfied smile.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“That wasn’t so hard was it?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThat night, you couldn’t argue. And most importantly–
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYou learned that night that even the Avatar—a strong man with patience—can also lose composure in desire.
────୨ৎ────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤHi everyone! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the Jealous Type Series!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤThank you all for the love, support, and feedback for the series and I sure hope you'll enjoy the next chapter!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤBut I know when I can, I'll be sure to update the Series with more characters when I can ;)
divider by: cafekitsune
word count: 4.4k
synopsis: Getting pulled over on a deserted Blüdhaven backroad was supposed to mean a lecture from your boyfriend. Instead, the uniform stays on, the handcuffs come out, and Officer Grayson decides to handle your speeding habit with some hands-on, deeply punishing "community service."
a/n: Alrighty, first request has officially been written! 🤍
I hope you enjoy, nonnie — the second I received this request I immediately got excited and started working on it nonstop these last few days! It was genuinely such a fun one to write.
Also, before anyone says anything: yes, I know pepper spray is legal in parts of the US but it isn’t legal in Canada, so for the sake of the fic I slightly bent the US laws to match the Canadian ones. Creative liberties were taken.
warnings: MDNI, 18+
There was one thing anyone who knew you could agree on: you loved to drive a little too fast. In fact, that heavy right foot of yours was the exact reason you met your boyfriend, Dick. He had pulled you over for speeding a little over a year ago. Hoping to flirt your way out of a hefty ticket, you had flashed him a smile and started teasing him—which somehow resulted in you agreeing to go to dinner with him. One thing led to another, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.
However, despite dating an officer of the law, you still couldn't shake the habit of stepping on the gas pedal just a little too hard. You especially loved the winding, rural backroads, where you figured no cops would ever bother to linger.
Until tonight.
The moment the familiar, blinding flash of red and blue lights illuminated your rearview mirror, a sharp curse escaped your lips. Pulling over to the gravel shoulder, your stomach sank. Dick was never going to let you hear the end of this lecture, especially since you were definitely getting a ticket this time.
Sighing, you fished your license and registration out of your visor, waiting for the officer to approach. But the second the figure stepped into the glow of your driver's side window, your eyes widened.
"You asshole," you breathed, a breathless laugh escaping you as you looked up at your boyfriend. "You scared the shit out of me."
Yet, Dick didn't smile. His expression remained completely blank, masked by a cool, detached professionalism that made your stomach do a weird little flip. "License and registration, please."
You scoffed, leaning back in your seat. "Are you serious?"
"Ma'am, I need to see your license and registration," he repeated.
"Dick, come on," you huffed, crossing your arms.
"Ma'am, I won't ask a third time." His voice was entirely devoid of the warmth you usually woke up to.
He looked devastatingly good in his Blüdhaven Police Department uniform—the dark blue fabric was crisp, and his silver badge caught the dimming twilight. His hands rested casually near his utility belt, but his posture was tense.
Grumbling under your breath, you shoved your license and registration through the open window. He took them, his fingers brushing against yours. Usually, that slight contact would prompt a secret squeeze or a wink, but tonight? Nothing. He merely glanced down at the cards, then back up at you.
"Do you know how fast you were going, Miss Y/N?"
"I was going... a little over," you muttered, leaning back into your seat.
"You were doing eighty in a fifty, on a winding backroad with zero streetlights," Dick corrected. His tone dropped into that authoritative cadence he used when he was genuinely unhappy about something. "If a deer had jumped out, or if your tire had caught the gravel on the shoulder, you’d be wrapped around a tree before you could even hit the brakes."
You softened slightly, realizing the sternness wasn't just him playing a part—he was worried about you. You sighed, the annoyance completely draining out of you. "I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to get home to see you faster."
A tiny, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his stoic facade. But he caught himself, clearing his throat as he stepped back toward his cruiser. "Wait here."
"Oh, come on!" you called out, but he was already walking away, his hips swaying just enough to remind you exactly why you’d agreed to that first dinner date a year ago.
You sat in the quiet cabin of your car, watching him in your rearview mirror as he leaned against the hood of his cruiser, pretending to run your perfectly clean record. The red and blue lights continued to flash, painting the dark interior of your car in rhythmic pulses of colour.
After a gruelling five minutes, he finally walked back. But instead of just handing the documents through the window, he reached down and pulled open your driver's side door.
You blinked up at him, genuinely surprised. "Am I under arrest, Officer?"
"Step out of the vehicle, please," he said. His voice had finally lost that rigid, robotic edge, replaced by something much lower and smoother.
Curious, you unbuckled and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. The night air was cool, rustling the thick canopy of trees around you. The moment your feet hit the ground, Dick closed the gap between you, crowding you back against the frame of your car.
He didn't hand you a ticket. Instead, he carelessly tossed your license and registration onto the driver's seat, planted his hands on the roof of the car on either side of your head, and leaned in close.
"I’m gonna have to check to ensure you have no weapons on you," he stated flatly. "Turn around. Hands on the roof."
Your eyebrow quirked as you caught the slight, wicked twinkle in his eyes. "Yes, Officer," you murmured, doing exactly as he said.
You felt his large, warm hands slide along your shoulders, tracing down your chest and your sides. His palms traveled lower, sliding over your ass and giving it a firm, possessive squeeze before moving back to the front of your waist, where your keys were hooked to a belt loop. He unclipped the carabiner, raising the keys up to eye level to inspect the small, pink canister attached to the ring.
"Well, well, well. Pepper spray is considered a weapon," he drawled, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "I’m gonna have to arrest you. Hands behind your back."
"Dick, you gave that to me," you stated, looking back at him.
"It’s Officer Grayson to you, and I won’t repeat myself," he ordered, his eyes darkening with playful authority. "Hands behind your back."
You slowly did as you were told. Your eyes widened a fraction as you felt the cold bite of metal around your wrists. The handcuffs clicked shut, the sharp, metallic snap of the mechanism echoing clearly in the quiet night air. You flexed your fingers, testing the tautness of the chain, a genuine laugh bubbling up from your chest.
"Okay, Grayson, you’ve had your fun," you said, glancing over your shoulder at him. "Uncuff me."
You weren’t sure what your boyfriend was trying to prove, but it had been a long day. You were tired, and the patience you had for his little games was starting to dwindle.
But Dick didn't budge. He stepped in close, his solid chest pressing firmly against your back, his warmth instantly cutting through the crisp night air. He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin right below your ear and sending a sharp shiver down your spine.
"I told you, it’s Officer Grayson," he murmured, his voice a low, raspy purr that went straight to your core. "And I don’t negotiate with dangerous speeders who carry unregistered chemical agents."
"Unregistered? You literally bought it for me on Amazon because you were worried about me walking to my car after dark!"
"Quiet!"
A sharp gasp tore from your throat as you felt his open palm crack against your ass. The sudden sting made your cheeks flush instantly.
"You have the right to remain silent," Dick recited smoothly, his voice dropping into a dark, commanding cadence as he leaned his weight heavily into your back. "You have the right to an attorney. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
"This is becoming ridiculous," you breathed, a mix of adrenaline and genuine worry fluttering in your chest as you looked around the dark road, slightly panicked that someone might drive by and assume you were actually being arrested.
He didn't answer. Instead, he led you toward the hood of his cruiser, his grip firm on your arm. He spun you around slowly, keeping one large hand flat against your waist to steady you. With your hands bound behind your back, you were forced to lean slightly into his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes. The flashing red and blue lights of his cruiser danced across his face, highlighting the wicked, playful grin that had finally broken through his professional mask.
You let out a soft sigh. "Are you done having your fun yet?"
"What? I thought you had a thing for a man in a uniform," he teased, leaning down slightly so his chest brushed against yours. "I’m just giving you the full experience."
You raised a brow, refusing to make this easy for him. "And what exactly does this full experience entail, Officer? Am I going to the station?"
"Normally, yes," Dick murmured. "But considering the local jail is a little crowded tonight, I’m thinking we can come to some sort of agreement."
Your eyes narrowed playfully. "What kind of arrangement?"
His grin widened as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the metal of the hood. His hands fell to your waist, the heat of his palms soaking right through your clothes as he leaned down, his voice dropping into a velvety whisper that vibrated right against your ear.
"Well, you see, the paperwork for a reckless driving charge and weapon possession is exhaustive," he drawled, his lips brushing along your jawline. "It’s a beautiful night, and I really don’t want to spend the rest of my shift stuck behind a desk at the precinct. So, I’m willing to exercise some officer discretion and offer you a plea bargain.”
You let out a soft huff, though the feeling of his solid chest pressed against yours was making it increasingly difficult to stay annoyed. “I’m listening,” you managed to say, tilting your head back just an inch to keep his gaze.
"You plead guilty to being completely irresistible, and in exchange, I commute your sentence," Dick murmured, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. The playful, devastatingly charming glint in his gaze was on full display now.
You knew exactly what that meant, and your eyes narrowed further. "And if I reject the plea deal?" you challenged, tilting your chin up defiantly, a small smirk playing on your lips. “What if I want my day in court, Officer?”
Dick’s grin widened, a wicked little spark flaring in his eyes. Before the sarcasm could fully leave your mouth, his hands shifted. In one fluid, shockingly fast motion, he grabbed your waist, spun you around, and bent you clean over the hood of his cruiser.
The sudden change in perspective made the world spin for a split second. ”If you reject it,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave as his heavy weight came down directly over your back, pinning you flush against the car, “I’m forced to exercise my authority and punish you.”
“You are incredibly corrupt, Officer Grayson,” you breathed, your face pressed sideways against the hood, your heart hammering like a trapped bird against your ribs. The metal of the car was cool against your skin where your clothes shifted, a stark and thrilling contrast to the absolute furnace of his body trapping you from behind.
"I’m not corrupt, sweetheart. I’m just highly dedicated to community service," Dick whispered, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register that sent an electric jolt straight down your spine.
He leaned even lower, his solid chest flattening your shoulder blades as his mouth found the sensitive juncture where your neck met your shoulder. He nipped lightly at the skin, his teeth grazing just hard enough to make you gasp and arch into the bite, before he immediately soothed the sting with the slow deliberate drag of his tongue.
“Besides,” he murmured against your wet skin, his breath burning hot in the cool night air as his hands left your waist, sliding down the backs of your thighs to anchor you exactly where he wanted you, “you’re the one who chose to break the law in my jurisdiction. And you know what they say about Blüdhaven cops... we're notoriously tough on repeat offenders.”
His large, warm hands traced a slow, steady path down the backs of your thighs before smoothing their way back up to cup the undersides of your cheeks. He gave a firm, possessive squeeze that made a soft, breathless whimper escape your lips. He chuckled, the vibration of it rumbling directly against your spine, thoroughly enjoying the complete control he had over you.
Slowly, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your pants.
The fabric yielded easily under his practiced touch, and you shivered violently as the crisp midnight breeze hit your freshly exposed skin. Dick didn't rush. He took his time, savouring every second of your vulnerability, his thumbs brushing light circles against your hip bones. The rhythmic friction was torturous as he began to slide the fabric down over your hips, exposing you inch by inch to the biting chill of the night air and the blistering heat of his hungry gaze.
“Dick…” you breathed, a volatile mix of adrenaline and desire hitching in your throat as your lower half was stripped bare on the side of the road. “Someone... someone could drive by.”
“Let them look,” he whispered wickedly, though he knew as well as you did that this stretch of backroad was completely abandoned at this hour.
His lips ghosted a path from your shoulder up the column of your neck, hunting for the ultra-sensitive spot beneath your ear. His teeth grazed the tender skin, nipping just hard enough to make you whimper and arch your back, while his knuckles brushed in a feather-light, tormenting stroke against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The sheer sensory overload made your knees go dangerously weak, your thighs trembling beneath his hands.
“But if you’re worried about the public indecency charge, you better cooperate fully with the arresting officer,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, thick with intent. “Understand?”
He shifted his weight, his muscular thigh sliding between yours from behind. With an unyielding nudge, he forced your legs a little wider apart, bracing your shins against the lower frame and tire of the police car. Your fingers curled tightly behind your back, the links of the handcuffs rattling sharply against one another as your nails dug into your palms, trying to find any semblance of leverage or stability. But with your wrists securely bound, you were completely at his mercy.
“I need an audible answer, civilian,” Dick growled softly. The playful charm was entirely gone now, completely replaced by a raw, primal look that made your blood run hot. He nudged his thigh higher between yours, a deliberate tilt of his pelvis that forced you to feel the rigid, heavy length of his desire straining against his trousers. “Do you understand the terms of your custody?”
“Yes,” you choked out, your voice trembling as his thigh nudged you even further apart, stretching you out and leaving you completely, hopelessly vulnerable to his touch. “Yes, Officer. I understand.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, the praise thick, and laced with a deep satisfaction that settled deep against your skin.
He didn't make you wait. His hand incredibly hot as it cupped you from behind. When his long, calloused fingers slipped between your thighs, finding you already slick and aching for him, a low, ragged sigh escaped his lips. He began to stroke you with maddeningly slow, teasing pressure, his thumb finding your clit and working it in deliberate, steady circles until your breath came in shallow, desperate stutters.
You threw your head back, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as you sought more of that agonizingly perfect pressure. Above you, the flashing emergency lights of the cruiser danced in dizzying patterns of crimson and sapphire across the windshield, fracturing the night into a blurred, hypnotic trance. Every touch of his fingers felt magnified a thousand times over by the illicit thrill of the open air, the vulnerability of your wrists bound behind you, and the sheer, unyielding dominance of his body pinning you down.
"Ah-ah," Dick chided softly, his grip on your hip tightening just enough to pin you still against the framework of the cruiser. "I didn't give you permission to move."
“Dick, please,” you whimpered, your hips unconsciously bucking back against his hand, begging for a deeper satisfaction.
“Shh, stay still,” he commanded, his teeth catching the lobe of your ear in a sharp, grounding nip that made you gasp. With his free hand, he reached down to unbutton and lower his own trousers, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet rustle of the surrounding woods. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
You shivered violently, your forehead resting against the cool hood of the car as you tried to catch your breath. "I want you. Please, Dick... Officer Grayson... please."
A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest at the title. "Spoken like a true cooperative citizen."
He reached around to his utility belt with one hand, the distinct, sharp sound of tearing foil slicing through the quiet night air. He repositioned himself, the broad, blunt head of his length pressing directly against your aching core. He paused there for one maddening second, letting you feel the sheer size and heat of him, waiting until you let out a needy, fractured cry.
“Look at me,” he whispered, his grip tightening on your hip, anchoring you firmly.
You strained to look over your shoulder, your vision swimming as you caught his gaze. His eyes were completely blown out, his pupils dilated so wide that the vibrant blue of his irises was reduced to a thin ring. There was a hungry possessiveness burning in his stare that made your chest ache with a volatile mixture of deep affection and untamed desire.
With a slow, smooth thrust, Dick drove himself fully inside you.
The sudden, thick fullness tore a loud, uninhibited sob from your throat, the sound immediately swallowed by the vast, empty backroad. The sheer intensity of the entry made your mind go entirely blank. He didn't let you adjust to the stretching heat; he pulled back almost entirely, teasing the edge of your core before burying himself inside you again, deeper this time, his hips crashing against yours with a bruising, relentless force. The car creaked beneath your combined weight, the shocks absorbing the rhythmic, violent momentum of his strokes as he pinned you to the polished surface.
The pace was unbearably slow and punishingly deep. His hips slammed rhythmically against yours, the solid, unyielding weight of his chest pressing you down into the hood of the cruiser with every single thrust. You could feel the metal buttons of his uniform shirt scraping against your bare spine, a harsh friction that contrasted sharply with the blistering heat of his skin.
"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his professional facade completely shattering into a million pieces as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "So tight. Every single time."
“Fuck, Dick,” you sobbed, your hands twitching uselessly within the metal restraints, your knuckles scraping against his kevlar vest as you tried to find a purchase that didn't exist.
Suddenly, he straightened up. His free hand reached down, his fingers wrapping firmly around the center chain of your handcuffs, and he yanked it back toward his chest. The sudden, sharp tug on the metal sent an electric shock of pure sensation straight through your nervous system. Your back arched violently, your chest lifting completely off the hood of the cruiser as your spine curved into a tight, desperate crescent. The forced position tilted your pelvis upward and drove your hips back even further against him, burying him inside you to the absolute hilt, the bruising depth made you cry out in a breathless mix of shock and pleasure.
"Dick—!"
“Last warning, that’s Officer Grayson to you,” he growled against your ear, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register that made your blood run hot.
With his hand firmly gripping the center chain of the cuffs, he held you aloft, completely controlling your posture and rendering you utterly defenceless. You were entirely suspended between the cold metal of the car biting into your thighs and his solid body locking you in from behind. He began to move again, but the rhythm transitioned instantly from slow and deep to fast, punishingly hard thrusts that rocked the entire frame of the police cruiser. The cruiser groaned in protest beneath the force of his thrusts, as it joined the wet, slapping sounds of his skin crashing against yours.
Your breath hitched, the sheer force of his increased tempo rattling your lungs as every hard, frantic plunge sent brilliant sparks behind your closed eyelids. The flashing red and blue strobes overhead sliced through the heavy darkness, illuminating the ragged mist of your breath in the cool midnight air and casting your silhouetted shadows across the deserted tree-line. You couldn't run, you couldn't pull away; you were entirely chained to his dominance, balanced on the edge of his control.
"Dick—please, Officer—" you sobbed, the official title tearing from your throat as your head rolled back helplessly against his shoulder, your strength entirely spent.
He leaned into your arched back, his chest flattening against your shoulder blades as his pace became completely unhinged. The sensation of the restrictive metal biting into your wrists and the unmerciful feeling of him filling you over and over drove you closer to the brink. Dick’s breath came in ragged, burning gasps against your ear, his grip on the handcuffs never wavering as he held you perfectly in place to take every unrelenting inch of him.
"Keep talking like that," he panted, his breath a scorching brand against your neck. He pulled back on the cuffs just a fraction harder, forcing you to take him even deeper as his hips slammed home. "Let me hear how cooperative you are after being such a bad girl and breaking the law.”
"I'm sorry—I'm sorry," you whimpered, though your hips were unconsciously bucking back against him now, completely addicted to the punishingly perfect friction, begging for the release that was clawing at the base of your spine.
"God, you're so responsive," Dick groaned, a fierce, ragged sound catching in his throat as your inner muscles convulsed around him in a series of tight, involuntary tremors. "Look at what you do to me.”
You strained your eyes open, your vision swimming with tears and adrenaline. In the reflection of the glass, illuminated by the rhythmic flashing of the cruiser's lightbar, you could see the silhouette of your own body arched like a bow beneath him, completely undone as his emergency lights painting your skin in flashes of crimson and violet. His uniform shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his tie askew, the pristine authority of the Blüdhaven Police Department thoroughly corrupted by the sheer, unhinged desperation of his hunger for you. It was an illicit, intoxicating sight that sent a fresh wave of heat and wetness to your core.
He shifted his grip, letting go of the cuffs for a split second only to wrap his massive arm entirely around your waist, pulling you so flush against his chest that there wasn't a single millimetre of space between you. His free hand reached around to the front, his long fingers finding your swollen, slick clit and drawing tight, quick circles that perfectly matched the brutal pace of his hips.
The dual stimulation nearly shattered you. Your vision blurred into a kaleidoscope of red and blue. Your inner walls clamped down around him in tight, frantic spasms, desperately trying to lock him inside you as the pressure in your lower stomach built to a breaking point.
“Please—I’m gonna—I’m close,” you whimpered, your head thrashing against his shoulder.
“Let go,” he commanded against your skin, his thrusts becoming sloppier, more desperate as he neared his own peak. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel it.”
With a final, shattering plunge, you broke. A loud, uninhibited cry tore from your throat as your orgasm hit you in violent, crashing waves, paralyzing your muscles and causing your body to tremble helplessly against him. The tight, rhythmic squeezing of your internal walls tore away the last shred of Dick’s control. He let out a low, guttural roar, his hips driving into you to the absolute hilt one last time as his entire body went rigid. He buried his face in your damp hair, holding you tightly against the hood of the car as his own release tore through him in thick, ropey pulses as he emptied himself inside the condom.
You remained collapsed against the hood, the cool metal a blissful relief against your overheated skin, while Dick held you tightly from behind. His heartbeat was a frantic, comforting thud against your back. For several long, breathless minutes, neither of you moved. The only sounds on the empty backroad were the ragged sound of your chests heaving in unison.
Slowly, carefully, Dick pulled out of you, a soft groan escaping his lips as he stepped back to fix his uniform. The sudden absence of his heat made you shiver against the cool midnight air. You felt the satisfying click of the handcuffs unlocking, and your arms weakly fell forward onto the hood of the car as the metal restraints were slid free.
Before you could even move to pull your clothes up, you felt Dick’s arms wrap tenderly around your waist from behind. He lifted you up effortlessly, turning you around to face him and sitting you on the hood of the cruiser. He carefully helped you pull your pants back up, his large hands surprisingly gentle now, completely devoid of the dominant edge from moments before.
He looked up at you, his blue eyes soft and shining with an undeniable warmth, a crooked, boyish grin finally spreading across his face. His hair was completely messy, and his uniform shirt was wrinkled and slightly unbuttoned, making him look devastatingly handsome in the pulsing red and blue lights.
"So," he murmured, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear of pleasure from your cheek. "Are you going to keep speeding on my watch, or do we need to schedule regular... rehabilitation sessions?"
You let out a weak, breathless laugh, winding your arms weakly around his neck and pulling him close. "I think I might just continue to be a repeat offender, Officer Grayson."
Zuko loved watching your face in the mirror as he fucked you reverse cowgirl style. He held on to your breasts and breathed in your neck as he made slow thrusts up from behind. You throw your head back in pleasure, arching into him as your hips rolled against his.
"I want you to look at how beautiful you are on me baby," he says hoarsely in your ear. He continues to pound into you slowly, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you back onto his length. Your mouth hangs open and your eyes flutter as you try to keep them open and look at your reflection. He peppers kisses on your neck softly.
The sounds of skin on skin and your moans fill the room. He watches as your body bounces with each thrust, a hand coming up to grope your breast roughly as he squeezes and plays with your nipple while the other wraps around your throat, applying gentle pressure as he kisses and bites your neck and shoulder.
"My pretty girl…” His fingers that were just around your neck, find your clit and start rubbing it in circles, making you lose any train of thought at the stimulation.
You open your eyes slightly to watch yourself, and his dick sliding in and out between your legs. You feel the tight coil in your stomach break as your pussy clamps down around him as you scream out his name. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.
His hips snap forward sharply as he finally comes inside you before he wraps both arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest as he pants and nuzzles your neck.
Your glassy eyes meet his in the reflection of the mirror. "My beautiful girl…”
