Some fic recs since this blog reached 700 + followers last month and I finally got the time to make the post ! Thank you so much for all the love !!! Check out all these works and show them some love!! (All fics reblogged in @luviereads)
BRUCE WAYNE
necklace - @patientofarkhamasylum
sacred heart - @frostedpinkicing
Bite my tongue/ It's a bad habit - @suprsnupi
vampire! Bruce - @scissorhvnds
your hand upon my chest is mine - @twentytomidnight
Never used to death - @llovelygood
jealous knight - @bloomcissa
lightweight! reader is ready to rish it all for bruce wayne - @mystiquevoid
CLARK KENT
Sunlight through glass - @cherryysunshine
Mama, a bald man behind you - @stcrgazerlily
Title of your sex tape - @annaevermore
superman day - @kryptidfiles
have you raised a ticket? - @devisedplan
JASON TODD
lipstick and a split lip - @batwngs
like father, like trouble - @arfemiz
Coffee Shop Revelations - @fanfictionwarrior-chills
Just us and your friend roy - @fleurmarjorieargent
Baby - @brucewayneisavirgin
knight in shining armor - @vianawaits
you melt up my body and all my heart - @flimsily-flimsy
arkham knight - @torupng
DICK GRAYSON
you wake him when the baby is being fussy - @sakunai
between the lines - @oncasette
Background arobatics - @fancy-possum
House tour - @ghxstrobins
the proposal - @gglouise23
ROY HARPER
nothing seems to walk the same - @waltzingphantoms
Iris - @amoebadue
fratboy! Roy Harper - @moviecritc
CASSANDRA CAIN
first kiss - @kooriandr
TALIA AL GHUL
morning lights - @cherryvvave
STEPHANIE BROWN
girl, so confusing - @froggibus
KARA ZOR-EL
Rockstar! Kara - @pixelbfs
SUPERBOY PRIME
for research purposes - @athenxt
MULTI
pillow talk - @brinawing
A little favour - @gothamorphosis
Who is this ? - @dontyouworrydaddy
MISCELLANEOUS
Pretty isin't pretty - @crookshanks-07
thinking about teen!nanami meeting gojo's childhood best friend for the first time.- @irisgrrl
KYLE RAYNER
Sunsets and honest opinions - @iridescentlightshow (platonic)
DIANA PRINCE
bicep shots - @sozzoe
A/N: I might have missed mentioning someone (I'm so sorry!!)
Check out other fic recs
love love loved the spicy pic smau…would you be up for a part 2…? maybe where the boys admit they can’t stop thinking about it and they’re all needy🫠🫠 <3
been like this.
dick, jason, & wally x gn!reader
pt. 2 to surprise! — the boys can't stop thinking about the picture you sent him.
content: implied nsfw, some lewd language, but nothing extremely explicit, got verrrrryyy carried away on jason's whoops
love love loved the spicy pic smau…would you be up for a part 2…? maybe where the boys admit they can’t stop thinking about it and they’re all needy🫠🫠 <3
been like this.
dick, jason, & wally x gn!reader
pt. 2 to surprise! — the boys can't stop thinking about the picture you sent him.
content: implied nsfw, some lewd language, but nothing extremely explicit, got verrrrryyy carried away on jason's whoops
“What? You’re still seeing other people, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. Ice crawls up his neck. Why? Does he need to be?
or the one where dick doesn't want you looking at his tinder.
content: nsfw, piv, oral (f!receiving), miscommunication, but then lots of communication, it won't let me upload this normally so trying something else ?
masterlist
“C’mon, just let me swipe for you,” you laugh, trying to snatch Dick’s phone from his hand. He’s currently holding you back with one arm and holding his phone as far out on the other end of the couch as he can.
“No, stop,” Dick grunts, less playful than he had been earlier in the night but still laughing. “Why do you want to see it so bad?”
For some reason, in the last few minutes, you’d become desperate to see Dick’s Tinder. You’d said it as a joke, at first. On a whim. And, really, you weren’t even planning on swiping on his account, but then he’d said no.
“I just want to see what the women of Bludhaven have to offer for my best friend,” you say. To the outside eye, it might look like you’re trying to climb Dick with how deadset you still are on grabbing his phone.
Dick’s jaw clenches tight.
This wasn’t what the two of you did. Ever since… that night… and the night after that, and the night after that… it’d been different. You didn’t wingman each other, in person or on dating apps. You didn’t try to set each other up. Sure, before you’d started sleeping together it wasn’t unheard of for you to talk about your relationships, or random dates you went on, but neither of you asked further than the polite, cursory questions. Even for the first few weeks of this new relationship, each of you made the odd comment about a guy you were texting or a girl that Dick had met at a gala, but those had slowly fizzled out, too. The only thing you had to share with each other was if you hooked up with someone else–to be safe, at the beginning–but the situation had, blissfully, not presented itself.
Recently, Dick had barely even opened his Tinder. He hadn’t wanted to. He’d been thinking about deleting the thing entirely, honestly.
He’s not even sure why he’s so adamantly against you seeing his dating apps right now. It’s not like he’s got anything to hide. He hadn’t had a match in months. Maybe that’s what he didn’t want you to see. The lack of notifications, the empty messaging tab, the few chats he left unanswered past a hey. The fact that the only girl he was currently interested in was you.
“Baby, stop,” he sighs as he relaxes back into the couch. His sudden change in demeanor has you stalling, too. Your hands drop down, your body collapsing into his side.
His breath catches in his throat, looking at the way you’ve almost curled up under his arm now that you’re done fighting him. His gaze snags on your lips, but he manages to snap it back up to your eyes before he thinks you catch him.
“What? You’re still seeing other people, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. Ice crawls up his neck. Why? Does he need to be?
“I mean…” Dick says, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You seem to take that answer the wrong way, pulling away from Dick slowly and planting yourself back into your original spot on the couch. You keep your eyes on him, but your face is a lot less smiley than it had been a minute ago, much to his dismay.
“Is it serious?” you ask as you tuck your knees up to your chest. His heart stutters a bit, resisting his initial urge to just pull you right back into him.
“What?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
“The girl you’re seeing. It’s serious, isn’t it? That’s why you don’t want me to see,” you say.
“I’m not- What?” he parrots.
“It’s fine,” you say, even though it says like you’re barely managing the words out. “I mean, I wish you would’ve told me, so that we could stop doing… y’know, but-”
Panic floods through him. He can’t handle it anymore. In the span of a second, he’s bridged the gap between you and locked his lips over yours. You’re seconds away from melting into him the way he knows you will, when you start to push at his chest with the heels of your hands.
“Dick, wait-”
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he pants out, pained. He needs you to stop talking. To stop thinking and spiraling and throwing this away before he has a chance to explain himself. He needs you to stop your mind from wandering to the idea that he could want anyone but you.
“You’re not?” you ask, trying to pull back further when Dick drops his forehead against yours. You need to see his eyes right now.
“I’m not,” he exhales. You can see the words forming, but it takes him a while longer to ask, “Are you?”
When you shake your head, Dick shifts. He gently begins to pull your legs down and out to give him space to slot himself better between your thighs. His head ducks down, nose bumping against yours.
“Why wouldn’t you let me see your Tinder?” you ask quietly, bringing a hand up and running your fingers though his hair as he kisses along your cheeks.
“I dunno,” he mumbles into your skin. “We haven’t really talked about this in a while. I didn’t want you to see that I wasn’t, you know… putting myself out there if you were.”
“That’s stupid,” you scoff lightly.
“I know,” he says, raising up to slant his mouth over yours again. “I don’t exactly think straight when you’re around.”
You let him kiss you for a while. You let him lick along your bottom lip, and eventually part them to slide his tongue into your mouth. Even though his response should’ve eased the pit in your stomach, it hadn’t. It lingered, gnawing at you like it had been for the last couple of weeks.
You think you wanted to see his Tinder for another reason entirely. No matter what you’d tried telling yourself in the moment, no matter how playful and giggly you’d been, you knew you’d been fighting for his phone to try and quell the thoughts that had been nagging at you. You wanted to see the competition, more or less. You wanted to see who else Dick’s attention was lingering on, see if you were able to compete with them.
That voice is nagging at you, now, despite the fact that Dick’s attempting to shove his tongue down your throat in a way that would typically have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Why aren’t you seeing other people?” you ask, in spite of yourself. You bite down on your tongue to try and stop any more damning words from spilling out of you.
He seems to glitch for a moment before exhaling. Reluctantly, he pulls away. Not for long, though, as he’s subsequently pulling you up and bracketing your knees around his hips. Once he’s seated and you’re settled on his lap, he speaks.
“Okay,” he sighs. “I don’t think we can keep dancing around this.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek as he begins to slide his hands down your sides. Slowly up around your hips, around your waist, down your thighs, and back up again. It does little to calm your nerves.
“You don’t want me dating anyone else, hm?” he asks, brows raised in a way that might’ve looked condescending if you didn’t know him as well as you do. You think the question over for a beat before slowly starting to shake your head.
“No,” you admit solemnly. “I know when we started… fooling around we said we weren’t going to do the whole labels thing.”
“I know what we said,” he hums.
“And we said that we were free to still… you know, go out and stuff,” you manage out.
“And stuff,” he mimics. “I’m not asking about before. I’m asking about now.”
“But, what we agreed on before matters,” you say.
He shrugs, “Sure, it mattered before.”
He looks down at where your hands are resting on his stomach before grabbing them both in one of his. He brings them up to his chest, maneuvering them so that your palms are flat against him.
“I agreed to all of this because I thought that’s what you wanted,” he says before his eyes flick back up to meet yours.
“Isn’t that what you wanted, too?” you ask
“I wanted whatever you were willing to give me. I didn’t push for more because I thought you… you know… didn’t want that,” he says. The world stops spinning for a solid minute. Suddenly, every appliance in the apartment has gone inexplicably silent and all you can hear is your own breathing–or, lack thereof–and the blood rushing through your eardrums. He’s calmer than he was a minute ago. Less frantic, now, that he seems to have clicked a few pieces into place.
“What?” you croak out.
“Is it that hard to believe, sweetheart?” he asks. “You think I treat every girl the way I treat you? Talk to any girl that way I talk to you?”
He brings your hands up until they’re just under his jaw.
“Fuck any girl the way I fuck you?”
“You want more?” you ask. You have to blink about twenty times in a row to focus down on him again.
“Yes, I want more,” he says. “But I think the real question is if you want more.”
Your mouth opens and closes with a thousand different ways of saying yes, yes, of course I do dying on your tongue. When you finally decide that words are just apparently not going to work right now, you lean in and slant your lips over his. He meets your mouth eagerly, still holding your hands against him, but lifting his head to match your vigor.
“You’re so stupid,” you huff once you’ve parted.
“That– okay,” he chuckles, brows furrowed, “Why am I stupid?”
“Because I’m in love with you,” you say.
“Yeah?” he asks. The smile on his face could rival the sun. He uses the lack of space between you to his advantage and smacks a couple of kisses against your lips. “Why does that make me stupid?”
“Because!” you say, like that’s reason enough.
“Because I’m in love with you, too?” he asks. A comment you’re, unfortunately, quick to breeze past.
“Because we wasted so much time!” you whine with a weak smack to his chest. The air around you is thick with his confession.
“We’ll have so much time,” he says as he brings both palms up to the sides of your face. Slowly, he pulls you down until you’re chest to chest with him, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss you again. He seems content to just look at you, now. To let his gaze move over the dips and lines of your face, the slope of your nose.
“We could’ve had more,” you murmur.
Dick shrugs, thumbs swiping over your cheeks. “I’ve always been yours.”
“Yeah, but…” you start.
“We’ve basically been dating for months already,” he says. “This doesn’t change anything other than what we call each other.”
Huh. You hadn’t thought of it that way.
“There we go,” he hums. His index finger taps against the center of your forehead. “I can see those gears shutting down.”
You sit there for a while, just letting the weight of it all sink into you. You love Dick, you knew that already, and he loves you. He loves you. You didn’t have to settle for–admittedly, amazing–sex, you could have him. You could have everything.
“Will you let me fuck you now, baby?” he asks, hands moving back down to hold your hips.
Your lips pull into a thin line. “That feels a little crude after what we just admitted to each other.”
“Oh my-” he laughs, those dimples of his peeking out. “Can I make love to you? Is that better?”
“I could so say no right now- oh,” your giggle sharply turns into a gasp when Dick rolls his hips up into yours. Just once. Just enough to feel his hardening cock pressing against your pussy and punching the breath out of you. His lips find the edge of your jaw.
“Baby?” he prompts.
“Yeah, yes,” you exhale, already melting into his touch. “Please.”
And it’s like a band snaps. The thinly veiled restraint he’d been exerting before is gone when his lips find yours again. He’s inching the hem of your shirt up, the warmth of his hands heating your skin.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, parting from you long enough to slide the shirt up and over your head. “My girl.”
“Dick,” you whine. You roll your hips down against his, trying to ease the building pressure building up between your legs.
“Hold on, pretty,” he laughs in spite of the way his hips jut up to meet yours instantly. “I wanna do this right.”
“We’ve fucked before,” you huff, pushing down harder against his cock until you feel the head of him catch against your clit. Ah, fuck.
“So we’re calling it that again?” he teases. He licks along the edge of your bra, down the center of your chest, and for a second you think he’s going to make out with the foam padding but then he unclips the back of it with the dexterous accuracy you’re used to. He latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue in a way that sends a tingle down your spine.
“Come on,” you hiss, back arching and pushing your chest further into his mouth. He pops off with a grin. His thumbs swipes over your nipple, breaking the string of spit still connecting him to you.
“So impatient,” he says. “I get you worked up that fast, huh?”
“Shut up. You know you do,” you bite, still trying to grind down on his cock but not getting the relief you need through the layers between you.
“‘Cause you love me?” he asks. One of his fingers hooks into the waistband of your shorts. The elastic snaps against your skin.
“Stop teasing.”
“‘M not teasing, baby. Promise,” he says before his hand slips into your shorts. His fingers swipe through the slick building there. One taps your clit with just enough pressure to pull a gasp out of you. He tilts his head as he watches you grind against his hand. He seems entirely too pleased with himself.
You fist your hands into his shirt in a clumsy attempt to get him to take it off. That request, at least, he concedes to. He grabs it by the back of the neckline, tugging it up and tossing it elsewhere on the floor of his living room. When you think he’s going to go back to his heavy petting, though, he doesn’t. He grabs you back the backs of your thighs before standing, leaving you to flail for a second and grab onto his shoulders with a squeak.
“Dick!” you huff, face scrunched up in mock annoyance. “What the hell?”
He makes sure you’re situated in his arms and not going to fall before starting to walk towards his room. The fact that he can pick you up and carry you around without care like this still heats you up inside, despite the fact that he’d done it countless times before. You think he knows. You think that’s why he keeps doing it.
“It’ll be better in bed,” he murmurs, pecking your lips. “Want you to be comfortable.”
Every part of you feels like it's buzzing. Warm static from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. If Dick set you down, you don’t think you would be standing.
If sex with Dick before was good, this was nirvana. And he had barely started touching you.
He kicks the door closed with his heel then gently lays you out at the end of the bed. You’d told him before how grateful you were for his money, only if for the fact that it meant that his bed felt like heaven. A fluffy comforter and egyptian cotton sheets for you to ease down into as Dick starts shimmying your shorts down your thighs. He groans at the sight of your, admittedly, unsexy panties.
He kneels down and spreads your legs wide, pinning them open with his shoulders. His arms wrap around your thighs and he tugs you the last couple inches so that your ass is at the edge.
“So beautiful,” he grins, biting the inside of your thigh. His thumb flicks over the tiny bow on the front of your old cotton panties. Your legs attempt to close, but the conspicuously Dick Grayson shaped object in front of you prevents that from happening.
“Please,” you whisper as you lean up your forearms to get a better look at him. His eyes flick up to yours as his head dips to press delicate kisses to your still clothed cunt. It’s not nearly enough to alleviate the ache building in you, but it raises the hair at the back of your neck all the same. You dig your heels into his shoulders in an attempt to drive him in closer. “I need you.”
“I know. Poor baby,” he hums, tongue coming out to flick your clit through the cotton. He uses his thumb to push the fabric aside before licking a flat stripe up your heat.
You wobble a bit, falling back into the sheets as your fingers find purchase in his curls. “Ah, Jesus, Dick.”
He laughs against you, the vibration causing you to clench around nothing.
“So fucking good,” he groans. The lewd sound of him slurping and sucking mixed with the feel of his tongue prodding at your entrance has to embarrassingly close already.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan.
“My girl’s gonna cum for me already?” he hums. “C’mon, baby.”
When he sucks on your clit, the band snaps. Dick hisses when you yank on his hair, nearly pulling him off of you, but he manages to stay put. He eases you through your orgasm with gentle kisses against your pussy, nose bumping your clit every so often. Once he’s satisfied with how twitchy you’ve become, he detaches himself.
Gently, lips following his fingers, he pulls your underwear off to drop them at the end of the bed. He stands up to his full height soon after, pushing his own shorts and boxers down his legs before he leans over your body. You reach out to grab his waist and tug him back between your legs. His head drops to slant his mouth over yours. He’s quick to part your lips with his tongue, the taste of you still lingering as he licks into your mouth.
“Pretty girl,” he grins once he pulls back. “Feel good?”
Nodding, you reach between you to wrap a hand around his cock. Your thumb swipes over the head, smearing the precum down his shaft. He groans, thrusting a bit into your grip.
“Shit,” he whines when you squeeze the base of him. You lock your ankles around his back and pull him in closer. “Wait, sweetheart. I gotta get a condom.”
“No,” you whine. “I want to feel you.”
“Baby,” he laughs when you squeeze him in tighter. The heat of his bare cock nudging against your pussy has your mouth watering. “Are you sure?”
He may be smiling, but his eyes are serious as they search yours.
“I’m on birth control,” you say, your cheeks heating at your next admission. “And I haven’t slept with anyone other than you since we started hooking up.”
“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly alight with something new. “You only let me make you feel good?”
He smooths his palms down your sides before wrapping a hand around where yours is gripping his cock. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth.
“I haven’t slept with anyone else, either,” he says as he lines up with your entrance. “If that wasn’t obvious.”
He slides into you slowly, jaw clenched and eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t breathe until his pelvic bone brushes yours, and the exhale he lets out is pitchy and broken.
“Hah- Holy- f-fuck,” he whines as he drops down over you. His weight is braced on one hand resting beside your head. The first roll of his hips is experimental, but you can see the way he short circuits. His balance wobbles and for a split second you worry that he might headbutt you. Or, you would’ve if the feel of him bare inside you didn’t already have you seeing stars. The second he starts to really move, he can’t help the broken pleas of your name that begin to spill from his lips.
“I love you,” you moan as you link your arms around his shoulders to hold him closer. You manage to get him to focus enough to drop a messy kiss to your lips, but it doesn’t last for long. It quickly devolves into a mix of teeth and spit as you both lose yourselves in the new sensation.
“I love you so much, baby,” he whispers. “God, this is a dream. You’re a dream.”
His thrusts start to get sloppy, a mix of jerky pumps and deep grinding. The way you’re clenching around him has his balls tightening at maddening speed.
“Cum in me,” you hum before he can ask when you feel his dick twitching.
“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. He uses the hand not bracing the brunt of his weight to reach between you to start rolling over your clit in tight circles. “Cum with me, sweetheart.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as the pressure builds tighter in your gut. Your brain goes a little fuzzy once your orgasm hits, a tingle traveling all the way down to your fingertips. Dick follows soon after. He manages to thrust a couple more times before his pace stalls at the hilt.
“There we go,” he pants. “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me.”
His forehead comes down to rest against yours. The both of you are breathing heavily with sweat beading along your temples, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt better. You’re beneath the man you love–full of him, actually–after having probably the best sex you’d had with him, and he loves you back. He loves you back.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, gently petting the side of your head. You lean into the touch, face tilting to kiss his thumb.
“I’m perfect,” you reply. He stays put, only moving to glide his lips along your hairlines, until your breathing goes back to normal.
Pulling out with a wince, he murmurs, “I know, I know. ‘M sorry.”
You almost want to trap him there, dig your heels into his ass and keep him inside you for the foreseeable future, but you let him pull out with minimal whining.
Dick leaves you for a minute, but returns with a washcloth in one hand and his phone in the other.
“What’re you doing?” you ask as you scoot up a bit on the bed.
“Cleaning you up,” he says easily
“No, why’d you go get your phone?” you chuckle.
“I’m deleting Tinder.”
“You had to do that right now?”
“I don’t need it anymore,” he shrugs before setting his phone down on the side table, apparently already finished with his task, and spreading your legs again to wipe you down with the warm cloth. Once he feels he’s cleaned you up to the best of his ability, he tosses the rag into his hamper and grabs a clean pair of boxers from the drawer. You half-expect him to leave you naked once he’s got the boxers pulled up, but are pleasantly surprised when he grabs another pair and a t-shirt for you to wear.
He crosses back over to you, sitting you up and lifting your arms up to slide the clean shirt over your head. The underwear is a bit more of a challenge to get on without forcing you to stand, but he does it with surprising grace.
“Hi,” you grin after you’ve both slid under the covers. You’re facing him, now, allowing your eyes to wander over his features.
“Hi, baby,” he says. He grabs one of your hands to press a kiss to the pad of your index finger. It’s all so easy, so familiar. You find it hard to believe that you hadn’t always been like this with him, but then again, maybe you had. Maybe that’s why it felt so right to slip into these roles with each other. To cross that bridge and finally stop pretending you were ever anything close to friends.
“What? You’re still seeing other people, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. Ice crawls up his neck. Why? Does he need to be?
or the one where dick doesn't want you looking at his tinder.
content: nsfw, piv, oral (f!receiving), miscommunication, but then lots of communication, it won't let me upload this normally so trying something else ?
masterlist
“C’mon, just let me swipe for you,” you laugh, trying to snatch Dick’s phone from his hand. He’s currently holding you back with one arm and holding his phone as far out on the other end of the couch as he can.
“No, stop,” Dick grunts, less playful than he had been earlier in the night but still laughing. “Why do you want to see it so bad?”
For some reason, in the last few minutes, you’d become desperate to see Dick’s Tinder. You’d said it as a joke, at first. On a whim. And, really, you weren’t even planning on swiping on his account, but then he’d said no.
“I just want to see what the women of Bludhaven have to offer for my best friend,” you say. To the outside eye, it might look like you’re trying to climb Dick with how deadset you still are on grabbing his phone.
Dick’s jaw clenches tight.
This wasn’t what the two of you did. Ever since… that night… and the night after that, and the night after that… it’d been different. You didn’t wingman each other, in person or on dating apps. You didn’t try to set each other up. Sure, before you’d started sleeping together it wasn’t unheard of for you to talk about your relationships, or random dates you went on, but neither of you asked further than the polite, cursory questions. Even for the first few weeks of this new relationship, each of you made the odd comment about a guy you were texting or a girl that Dick had met at a gala, but those had slowly fizzled out, too. The only thing you had to share with each other was if you hooked up with someone else–to be safe, at the beginning–but the situation had, blissfully, not presented itself.
Recently, Dick had barely even opened his Tinder. He hadn’t wanted to. He’d been thinking about deleting the thing entirely, honestly.
He’s not even sure why he’s so adamantly against you seeing his dating apps right now. It’s not like he’s got anything to hide. He hadn’t had a match in months. Maybe that’s what he didn’t want you to see. The lack of notifications, the empty messaging tab, the few chats he left unanswered past a hey. The fact that the only girl he was currently interested in was you.
“Baby, stop,” he sighs as he relaxes back into the couch. His sudden change in demeanor has you stalling, too. Your hands drop down, your body collapsing into his side.
His breath catches in his throat, looking at the way you’ve almost curled up under his arm now that you’re done fighting him. His gaze snags on your lips, but he manages to snap it back up to your eyes before he thinks you catch him.
“What? You’re still seeing other people, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. Ice crawls up his neck. Why? Does he need to be?
“I mean…” Dick says, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You seem to take that answer the wrong way, pulling away from Dick slowly and planting yourself back into your original spot on the couch. You keep your eyes on him, but your face is a lot less smiley than it had been a minute ago, much to his dismay.
“Is it serious?” you ask as you tuck your knees up to your chest. His heart stutters a bit, resisting his initial urge to just pull you right back into him.
“What?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
“The girl you’re seeing. It’s serious, isn’t it? That’s why you don’t want me to see,” you say.
“I’m not- What?” he parrots.
“It’s fine,” you say, even though it says like you’re barely managing the words out. “I mean, I wish you would’ve told me, so that we could stop doing… y’know, but-”
Panic floods through him. He can’t handle it anymore. In the span of a second, he’s bridged the gap between you and locked his lips over yours. You’re seconds away from melting into him the way he knows you will, when you start to push at his chest with the heels of your hands.
“Dick, wait-”
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he pants out, pained. He needs you to stop talking. To stop thinking and spiraling and throwing this away before he has a chance to explain himself. He needs you to stop your mind from wandering to the idea that he could want anyone but you.
“You’re not?” you ask, trying to pull back further when Dick drops his forehead against yours. You need to see his eyes right now.
“I’m not,” he exhales. You can see the words forming, but it takes him a while longer to ask, “Are you?”
When you shake your head, Dick shifts. He gently begins to pull your legs down and out to give him space to slot himself better between your thighs. His head ducks down, nose bumping against yours.
“Why wouldn’t you let me see your Tinder?” you ask quietly, bringing a hand up and running your fingers though his hair as he kisses along your cheeks.
“I dunno,” he mumbles into your skin. “We haven’t really talked about this in a while. I didn’t want you to see that I wasn’t, you know… putting myself out there if you were.”
“That’s stupid,” you scoff lightly.
“I know,” he says, raising up to slant his mouth over yours again. “I don’t exactly think straight when you’re around.”
You let him kiss you for a while. You let him lick along your bottom lip, and eventually part them to slide his tongue into your mouth. Even though his response should’ve eased the pit in your stomach, it hadn’t. It lingered, gnawing at you like it had been for the last couple of weeks.
You think you wanted to see his Tinder for another reason entirely. No matter what you’d tried telling yourself in the moment, no matter how playful and giggly you’d been, you knew you’d been fighting for his phone to try and quell the thoughts that had been nagging at you. You wanted to see the competition, more or less. You wanted to see who else Dick’s attention was lingering on, see if you were able to compete with them.
That voice is nagging at you, now, despite the fact that Dick’s attempting to shove his tongue down your throat in a way that would typically have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Why aren’t you seeing other people?” you ask, in spite of yourself. You bite down on your tongue to try and stop any more damning words from spilling out of you.
He seems to glitch for a moment before exhaling. Reluctantly, he pulls away. Not for long, though, as he’s subsequently pulling you up and bracketing your knees around his hips. Once he’s seated and you’re settled on his lap, he speaks.
“Okay,” he sighs. “I don’t think we can keep dancing around this.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek as he begins to slide his hands down your sides. Slowly up around your hips, around your waist, down your thighs, and back up again. It does little to calm your nerves.
“You don’t want me dating anyone else, hm?” he asks, brows raised in a way that might’ve looked condescending if you didn’t know him as well as you do. You think the question over for a beat before slowly starting to shake your head.
“No,” you admit solemnly. “I know when we started… fooling around we said we weren’t going to do the whole labels thing.”
“I know what we said,” he hums.
“And we said that we were free to still… you know, go out and stuff,” you manage out.
“And stuff,” he mimics. “I’m not asking about before. I’m asking about now.”
“But, what we agreed on before matters,” you say.
He shrugs, “Sure, it mattered before.”
He looks down at where your hands are resting on his stomach before grabbing them both in one of his. He brings them up to his chest, maneuvering them so that your palms are flat against him.
“I agreed to all of this because I thought that’s what you wanted,” he says before his eyes flick back up to meet yours.
“Isn’t that what you wanted, too?” you ask
“I wanted whatever you were willing to give me. I didn’t push for more because I thought you… you know… didn’t want that,” he says. The world stops spinning for a solid minute. Suddenly, every appliance in the apartment has gone inexplicably silent and all you can hear is your own breathing–or, lack thereof–and the blood rushing through your eardrums. He’s calmer than he was a minute ago. Less frantic, now, that he seems to have clicked a few pieces into place.
“What?” you croak out.
“Is it that hard to believe, sweetheart?” he asks. “You think I treat every girl the way I treat you? Talk to any girl that way I talk to you?”
He brings your hands up until they’re just under his jaw.
“Fuck any girl the way I fuck you?”
“You want more?” you ask. You have to blink about twenty times in a row to focus down on him again.
“Yes, I want more,” he says. “But I think the real question is if you want more.”
Your mouth opens and closes with a thousand different ways of saying yes, yes, of course I do dying on your tongue. When you finally decide that words are just apparently not going to work right now, you lean in and slant your lips over his. He meets your mouth eagerly, still holding your hands against him, but lifting his head to match your vigor.
“You’re so stupid,” you huff once you’ve parted.
“That– okay,” he chuckles, brows furrowed, “Why am I stupid?”
“Because I’m in love with you,” you say.
“Yeah?” he asks. The smile on his face could rival the sun. He uses the lack of space between you to his advantage and smacks a couple of kisses against your lips. “Why does that make me stupid?”
“Because!” you say, like that’s reason enough.
“Because I’m in love with you, too?” he asks. A comment you’re, unfortunately, quick to breeze past.
“Because we wasted so much time!” you whine with a weak smack to his chest. The air around you is thick with his confession.
“We’ll have so much time,” he says as he brings both palms up to the sides of your face. Slowly, he pulls you down until you’re chest to chest with him, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss you again. He seems content to just look at you, now. To let his gaze move over the dips and lines of your face, the slope of your nose.
“We could’ve had more,” you murmur.
Dick shrugs, thumbs swiping over your cheeks. “I’ve always been yours.”
“Yeah, but…” you start.
“We’ve basically been dating for months already,” he says. “This doesn’t change anything other than what we call each other.”
Huh. You hadn’t thought of it that way.
“There we go,” he hums. His index finger taps against the center of your forehead. “I can see those gears shutting down.”
You sit there for a while, just letting the weight of it all sink into you. You love Dick, you knew that already, and he loves you. He loves you. You didn’t have to settle for–admittedly, amazing–sex, you could have him. You could have everything.
“Will you let me fuck you now, baby?” he asks, hands moving back down to hold your hips.
Your lips pull into a thin line. “That feels a little crude after what we just admitted to each other.”
“Oh my-” he laughs, those dimples of his peeking out. “Can I make love to you? Is that better?”
“I could so say no right now- oh,” your giggle sharply turns into a gasp when Dick rolls his hips up into yours. Just once. Just enough to feel his hardening cock pressing against your pussy and punching the breath out of you. His lips find the edge of your jaw.
“Baby?” he prompts.
“Yeah, yes,” you exhale, already melting into his touch. “Please.”
And it’s like a band snaps. The thinly veiled restraint he’d been exerting before is gone when his lips find yours again. He’s inching the hem of your shirt up, the warmth of his hands heating your skin.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, parting from you long enough to slide the shirt up and over your head. “My girl.”
“Dick,” you whine. You roll your hips down against his, trying to ease the building pressure building up between your legs.
“Hold on, pretty,” he laughs in spite of the way his hips jut up to meet yours instantly. “I wanna do this right.”
“We’ve fucked before,” you huff, pushing down harder against his cock until you feel the head of him catch against your clit. Ah, fuck.
“So we’re calling it that again?” he teases. He licks along the edge of your bra, down the center of your chest, and for a second you think he’s going to make out with the foam padding but then he unclips the back of it with the dexterous accuracy you’re used to. He latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue in a way that sends a tingle down your spine.
“Come on,” you hiss, back arching and pushing your chest further into his mouth. He pops off with a grin. His thumbs swipes over your nipple, breaking the string of spit still connecting him to you.
“So impatient,” he says. “I get you worked up that fast, huh?”
“Shut up. You know you do,” you bite, still trying to grind down on his cock but not getting the relief you need through the layers between you.
“‘Cause you love me?” he asks. One of his fingers hooks into the waistband of your shorts. The elastic snaps against your skin.
“Stop teasing.”
“‘M not teasing, baby. Promise,” he says before his hand slips into your shorts. His fingers swipe through the slick building there. One taps your clit with just enough pressure to pull a gasp out of you. He tilts his head as he watches you grind against his hand. He seems entirely too pleased with himself.
You fist your hands into his shirt in a clumsy attempt to get him to take it off. That request, at least, he concedes to. He grabs it by the back of the neckline, tugging it up and tossing it elsewhere on the floor of his living room. When you think he’s going to go back to his heavy petting, though, he doesn’t. He grabs you back the backs of your thighs before standing, leaving you to flail for a second and grab onto his shoulders with a squeak.
“Dick!” you huff, face scrunched up in mock annoyance. “What the hell?”
He makes sure you’re situated in his arms and not going to fall before starting to walk towards his room. The fact that he can pick you up and carry you around without care like this still heats you up inside, despite the fact that he’d done it countless times before. You think he knows. You think that’s why he keeps doing it.
“It’ll be better in bed,” he murmurs, pecking your lips. “Want you to be comfortable.”
Every part of you feels like it's buzzing. Warm static from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. If Dick set you down, you don’t think you would be standing.
If sex with Dick before was good, this was nirvana. And he had barely started touching you.
He kicks the door closed with his heel then gently lays you out at the end of the bed. You’d told him before how grateful you were for his money, only if for the fact that it meant that his bed felt like heaven. A fluffy comforter and egyptian cotton sheets for you to ease down into as Dick starts shimmying your shorts down your thighs. He groans at the sight of your, admittedly, unsexy panties.
He kneels down and spreads your legs wide, pinning them open with his shoulders. His arms wrap around your thighs and he tugs you the last couple inches so that your ass is at the edge.
“So beautiful,” he grins, biting the inside of your thigh. His thumb flicks over the tiny bow on the front of your old cotton panties. Your legs attempt to close, but the conspicuously Dick Grayson shaped object in front of you prevents that from happening.
“Please,” you whisper as you lean up your forearms to get a better look at him. His eyes flick up to yours as his head dips to press delicate kisses to your still clothed cunt. It’s not nearly enough to alleviate the ache building in you, but it raises the hair at the back of your neck all the same. You dig your heels into his shoulders in an attempt to drive him in closer. “I need you.”
“I know. Poor baby,” he hums, tongue coming out to flick your clit through the cotton. He uses his thumb to push the fabric aside before licking a flat stripe up your heat.
You wobble a bit, falling back into the sheets as your fingers find purchase in his curls. “Ah, Jesus, Dick.”
He laughs against you, the vibration causing you to clench around nothing.
“So fucking good,” he groans. The lewd sound of him slurping and sucking mixed with the feel of his tongue prodding at your entrance has to embarrassingly close already.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan.
“My girl’s gonna cum for me already?” he hums. “C’mon, baby.”
When he sucks on your clit, the band snaps. Dick hisses when you yank on his hair, nearly pulling him off of you, but he manages to stay put. He eases you through your orgasm with gentle kisses against your pussy, nose bumping your clit every so often. Once he’s satisfied with how twitchy you’ve become, he detaches himself.
Gently, lips following his fingers, he pulls your underwear off to drop them at the end of the bed. He stands up to his full height soon after, pushing his own shorts and boxers down his legs before he leans over your body. You reach out to grab his waist and tug him back between your legs. His head drops to slant his mouth over yours. He’s quick to part your lips with his tongue, the taste of you still lingering as he licks into your mouth.
“Pretty girl,” he grins once he pulls back. “Feel good?”
Nodding, you reach between you to wrap a hand around his cock. Your thumb swipes over the head, smearing the precum down his shaft. He groans, thrusting a bit into your grip.
“Shit,” he whines when you squeeze the base of him. You lock your ankles around his back and pull him in closer. “Wait, sweetheart. I gotta get a condom.”
“No,” you whine. “I want to feel you.”
“Baby,” he laughs when you squeeze him in tighter. The heat of his bare cock nudging against your pussy has your mouth watering. “Are you sure?”
He may be smiling, but his eyes are serious as they search yours.
“I’m on birth control,” you say, your cheeks heating at your next admission. “And I haven’t slept with anyone other than you since we started hooking up.”
“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly alight with something new. “You only let me make you feel good?”
He smooths his palms down your sides before wrapping a hand around where yours is gripping his cock. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth.
“I haven’t slept with anyone else, either,” he says as he lines up with your entrance. “If that wasn’t obvious.”
He slides into you slowly, jaw clenched and eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t breathe until his pelvic bone brushes yours, and the exhale he lets out is pitchy and broken.
“Hah- Holy- f-fuck,” he whines as he drops down over you. His weight is braced on one hand resting beside your head. The first roll of his hips is experimental, but you can see the way he short circuits. His balance wobbles and for a split second you worry that he might headbutt you. Or, you would’ve if the feel of him bare inside you didn’t already have you seeing stars. The second he starts to really move, he can’t help the broken pleas of your name that begin to spill from his lips.
“I love you,” you moan as you link your arms around his shoulders to hold him closer. You manage to get him to focus enough to drop a messy kiss to your lips, but it doesn’t last for long. It quickly devolves into a mix of teeth and spit as you both lose yourselves in the new sensation.
“I love you so much, baby,” he whispers. “God, this is a dream. You’re a dream.”
His thrusts start to get sloppy, a mix of jerky pumps and deep grinding. The way you’re clenching around him has his balls tightening at maddening speed.
“Cum in me,” you hum before he can ask when you feel his dick twitching.
“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. He uses the hand not bracing the brunt of his weight to reach between you to start rolling over your clit in tight circles. “Cum with me, sweetheart.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as the pressure builds tighter in your gut. Your brain goes a little fuzzy once your orgasm hits, a tingle traveling all the way down to your fingertips. Dick follows soon after. He manages to thrust a couple more times before his pace stalls at the hilt.
“There we go,” he pants. “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me.”
His forehead comes down to rest against yours. The both of you are breathing heavily with sweat beading along your temples, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt better. You’re beneath the man you love–full of him, actually–after having probably the best sex you’d had with him, and he loves you back. He loves you back.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, gently petting the side of your head. You lean into the touch, face tilting to kiss his thumb.
“I’m perfect,” you reply. He stays put, only moving to glide his lips along your hairlines, until your breathing goes back to normal.
Pulling out with a wince, he murmurs, “I know, I know. ‘M sorry.”
You almost want to trap him there, dig your heels into his ass and keep him inside you for the foreseeable future, but you let him pull out with minimal whining.
Dick leaves you for a minute, but returns with a washcloth in one hand and his phone in the other.
“What’re you doing?” you ask as you scoot up a bit on the bed.
“Cleaning you up,” he says easily
“No, why’d you go get your phone?” you chuckle.
“I’m deleting Tinder.”
“You had to do that right now?”
“I don’t need it anymore,” he shrugs before setting his phone down on the side table, apparently already finished with his task, and spreading your legs again to wipe you down with the warm cloth. Once he feels he’s cleaned you up to the best of his ability, he tosses the rag into his hamper and grabs a clean pair of boxers from the drawer. You half-expect him to leave you naked once he’s got the boxers pulled up, but are pleasantly surprised when he grabs another pair and a t-shirt for you to wear.
He crosses back over to you, sitting you up and lifting your arms up to slide the clean shirt over your head. The underwear is a bit more of a challenge to get on without forcing you to stand, but he does it with surprising grace.
“Hi,” you grin after you’ve both slid under the covers. You’re facing him, now, allowing your eyes to wander over his features.
“Hi, baby,” he says. He grabs one of your hands to press a kiss to the pad of your index finger. It’s all so easy, so familiar. You find it hard to believe that you hadn’t always been like this with him, but then again, maybe you had. Maybe that’s why it felt so right to slip into these roles with each other. To cross that bridge and finally stop pretending you were ever anything close to friends.
“What? You’re still seeing other people, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. Ice crawls up his neck. Why? Does he need to be?
or the one where dick doesn't want you looking at his tinder.
content: nsfw, piv, oral (f!receiving), miscommunication, but then lots of communication, it won't let me upload this normally so trying something else ?
masterlist
“C’mon, just let me swipe for you,” you laugh, trying to snatch Dick’s phone from his hand. He’s currently holding you back with one arm and holding his phone as far out on the other end of the couch as he can.
“No, stop,” Dick grunts, less playful than he had been earlier in the night but still laughing. “Why do you want to see it so bad?”
For some reason, in the last few minutes, you’d become desperate to see Dick’s Tinder. You’d said it as a joke, at first. On a whim. And, really, you weren’t even planning on swiping on his account, but then he’d said no.
“I just want to see what the women of Bludhaven have to offer for my best friend,” you say. To the outside eye, it might look like you’re trying to climb Dick with how deadset you still are on grabbing his phone.
Dick’s jaw clenches tight.
This wasn’t what the two of you did. Ever since… that night… and the night after that, and the night after that… it’d been different. You didn’t wingman each other, in person or on dating apps. You didn’t try to set each other up. Sure, before you’d started sleeping together it wasn’t unheard of for you to talk about your relationships, or random dates you went on, but neither of you asked further than the polite, cursory questions. Even for the first few weeks of this new relationship, each of you made the odd comment about a guy you were texting or a girl that Dick had met at a gala, but those had slowly fizzled out, too. The only thing you had to share with each other was if you hooked up with someone else–to be safe, at the beginning–but the situation had, blissfully, not presented itself.
Recently, Dick had barely even opened his Tinder. He hadn’t wanted to. He’d been thinking about deleting the thing entirely, honestly.
He’s not even sure why he’s so adamantly against you seeing his dating apps right now. It’s not like he’s got anything to hide. He hadn’t had a match in months. Maybe that’s what he didn’t want you to see. The lack of notifications, the empty messaging tab, the few chats he left unanswered past a hey. The fact that the only girl he was currently interested in was you.
“Baby, stop,” he sighs as he relaxes back into the couch. His sudden change in demeanor has you stalling, too. Your hands drop down, your body collapsing into his side.
His breath catches in his throat, looking at the way you’ve almost curled up under his arm now that you’re done fighting him. His gaze snags on your lips, but he manages to snap it back up to your eyes before he thinks you catch him.
“What? You’re still seeing other people, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. Ice crawls up his neck. Why? Does he need to be?
“I mean…” Dick says, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You seem to take that answer the wrong way, pulling away from Dick slowly and planting yourself back into your original spot on the couch. You keep your eyes on him, but your face is a lot less smiley than it had been a minute ago, much to his dismay.
“Is it serious?” you ask as you tuck your knees up to your chest. His heart stutters a bit, resisting his initial urge to just pull you right back into him.
“What?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
“The girl you’re seeing. It’s serious, isn’t it? That’s why you don’t want me to see,” you say.
“I’m not- What?” he parrots.
“It’s fine,” you say, even though it says like you’re barely managing the words out. “I mean, I wish you would’ve told me, so that we could stop doing… y’know, but-”
Panic floods through him. He can’t handle it anymore. In the span of a second, he’s bridged the gap between you and locked his lips over yours. You’re seconds away from melting into him the way he knows you will, when you start to push at his chest with the heels of your hands.
“Dick, wait-”
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he pants out, pained. He needs you to stop talking. To stop thinking and spiraling and throwing this away before he has a chance to explain himself. He needs you to stop your mind from wandering to the idea that he could want anyone but you.
“You’re not?” you ask, trying to pull back further when Dick drops his forehead against yours. You need to see his eyes right now.
“I’m not,” he exhales. You can see the words forming, but it takes him a while longer to ask, “Are you?”
When you shake your head, Dick shifts. He gently begins to pull your legs down and out to give him space to slot himself better between your thighs. His head ducks down, nose bumping against yours.
“Why wouldn’t you let me see your Tinder?” you ask quietly, bringing a hand up and running your fingers though his hair as he kisses along your cheeks.
“I dunno,” he mumbles into your skin. “We haven’t really talked about this in a while. I didn’t want you to see that I wasn’t, you know… putting myself out there if you were.”
“That’s stupid,” you scoff lightly.
“I know,” he says, raising up to slant his mouth over yours again. “I don’t exactly think straight when you’re around.”
You let him kiss you for a while. You let him lick along your bottom lip, and eventually part them to slide his tongue into your mouth. Even though his response should’ve eased the pit in your stomach, it hadn’t. It lingered, gnawing at you like it had been for the last couple of weeks.
You think you wanted to see his Tinder for another reason entirely. No matter what you’d tried telling yourself in the moment, no matter how playful and giggly you’d been, you knew you’d been fighting for his phone to try and quell the thoughts that had been nagging at you. You wanted to see the competition, more or less. You wanted to see who else Dick’s attention was lingering on, see if you were able to compete with them.
That voice is nagging at you, now, despite the fact that Dick’s attempting to shove his tongue down your throat in a way that would typically have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Why aren’t you seeing other people?” you ask, in spite of yourself. You bite down on your tongue to try and stop any more damning words from spilling out of you.
He seems to glitch for a moment before exhaling. Reluctantly, he pulls away. Not for long, though, as he’s subsequently pulling you up and bracketing your knees around his hips. Once he’s seated and you’re settled on his lap, he speaks.
“Okay,” he sighs. “I don’t think we can keep dancing around this.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek as he begins to slide his hands down your sides. Slowly up around your hips, around your waist, down your thighs, and back up again. It does little to calm your nerves.
“You don’t want me dating anyone else, hm?” he asks, brows raised in a way that might’ve looked condescending if you didn’t know him as well as you do. You think the question over for a beat before slowly starting to shake your head.
“No,” you admit solemnly. “I know when we started… fooling around we said we weren’t going to do the whole labels thing.”
“I know what we said,” he hums.
“And we said that we were free to still… you know, go out and stuff,” you manage out.
“And stuff,” he mimics. “I’m not asking about before. I’m asking about now.”
“But, what we agreed on before matters,” you say.
He shrugs, “Sure, it mattered before.”
He looks down at where your hands are resting on his stomach before grabbing them both in one of his. He brings them up to his chest, maneuvering them so that your palms are flat against him.
“I agreed to all of this because I thought that’s what you wanted,” he says before his eyes flick back up to meet yours.
“Isn’t that what you wanted, too?” you ask
“I wanted whatever you were willing to give me. I didn’t push for more because I thought you… you know… didn’t want that,” he says. The world stops spinning for a solid minute. Suddenly, every appliance in the apartment has gone inexplicably silent and all you can hear is your own breathing–or, lack thereof–and the blood rushing through your eardrums. He’s calmer than he was a minute ago. Less frantic, now, that he seems to have clicked a few pieces into place.
“What?” you croak out.
“Is it that hard to believe, sweetheart?” he asks. “You think I treat every girl the way I treat you? Talk to any girl that way I talk to you?”
He brings your hands up until they’re just under his jaw.
“Fuck any girl the way I fuck you?”
“You want more?” you ask. You have to blink about twenty times in a row to focus down on him again.
“Yes, I want more,” he says. “But I think the real question is if you want more.”
Your mouth opens and closes with a thousand different ways of saying yes, yes, of course I do dying on your tongue. When you finally decide that words are just apparently not going to work right now, you lean in and slant your lips over his. He meets your mouth eagerly, still holding your hands against him, but lifting his head to match your vigor.
“You’re so stupid,” you huff once you’ve parted.
“That– okay,” he chuckles, brows furrowed, “Why am I stupid?”
“Because I’m in love with you,” you say.
“Yeah?” he asks. The smile on his face could rival the sun. He uses the lack of space between you to his advantage and smacks a couple of kisses against your lips. “Why does that make me stupid?”
“Because!” you say, like that’s reason enough.
“Because I’m in love with you, too?” he asks. A comment you’re, unfortunately, quick to breeze past.
“Because we wasted so much time!” you whine with a weak smack to his chest. The air around you is thick with his confession.
“We’ll have so much time,” he says as he brings both palms up to the sides of your face. Slowly, he pulls you down until you’re chest to chest with him, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss you again. He seems content to just look at you, now. To let his gaze move over the dips and lines of your face, the slope of your nose.
“We could’ve had more,” you murmur.
Dick shrugs, thumbs swiping over your cheeks. “I’ve always been yours.”
“Yeah, but…” you start.
“We’ve basically been dating for months already,” he says. “This doesn’t change anything other than what we call each other.”
Huh. You hadn’t thought of it that way.
“There we go,” he hums. His index finger taps against the center of your forehead. “I can see those gears shutting down.”
You sit there for a while, just letting the weight of it all sink into you. You love Dick, you knew that already, and he loves you. He loves you. You didn’t have to settle for–admittedly, amazing–sex, you could have him. You could have everything.
“Will you let me fuck you now, baby?” he asks, hands moving back down to hold your hips.
Your lips pull into a thin line. “That feels a little crude after what we just admitted to each other.”
“Oh my-” he laughs, those dimples of his peeking out. “Can I make love to you? Is that better?”
“I could so say no right now- oh,” your giggle sharply turns into a gasp when Dick rolls his hips up into yours. Just once. Just enough to feel his hardening cock pressing against your pussy and punching the breath out of you. His lips find the edge of your jaw.
“Baby?” he prompts.
“Yeah, yes,” you exhale, already melting into his touch. “Please.”
And it’s like a band snaps. The thinly veiled restraint he’d been exerting before is gone when his lips find yours again. He’s inching the hem of your shirt up, the warmth of his hands heating your skin.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, parting from you long enough to slide the shirt up and over your head. “My girl.”
“Dick,” you whine. You roll your hips down against his, trying to ease the building pressure building up between your legs.
“Hold on, pretty,” he laughs in spite of the way his hips jut up to meet yours instantly. “I wanna do this right.”
“We’ve fucked before,” you huff, pushing down harder against his cock until you feel the head of him catch against your clit. Ah, fuck.
“So we’re calling it that again?” he teases. He licks along the edge of your bra, down the center of your chest, and for a second you think he’s going to make out with the foam padding but then he unclips the back of it with the dexterous accuracy you’re used to. He latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue in a way that sends a tingle down your spine.
“Come on,” you hiss, back arching and pushing your chest further into his mouth. He pops off with a grin. His thumbs swipes over your nipple, breaking the string of spit still connecting him to you.
“So impatient,” he says. “I get you worked up that fast, huh?”
“Shut up. You know you do,” you bite, still trying to grind down on his cock but not getting the relief you need through the layers between you.
“‘Cause you love me?” he asks. One of his fingers hooks into the waistband of your shorts. The elastic snaps against your skin.
“Stop teasing.”
“‘M not teasing, baby. Promise,” he says before his hand slips into your shorts. His fingers swipe through the slick building there. One taps your clit with just enough pressure to pull a gasp out of you. He tilts his head as he watches you grind against his hand. He seems entirely too pleased with himself.
You fist your hands into his shirt in a clumsy attempt to get him to take it off. That request, at least, he concedes to. He grabs it by the back of the neckline, tugging it up and tossing it elsewhere on the floor of his living room. When you think he’s going to go back to his heavy petting, though, he doesn’t. He grabs you back the backs of your thighs before standing, leaving you to flail for a second and grab onto his shoulders with a squeak.
“Dick!” you huff, face scrunched up in mock annoyance. “What the hell?”
He makes sure you’re situated in his arms and not going to fall before starting to walk towards his room. The fact that he can pick you up and carry you around without care like this still heats you up inside, despite the fact that he’d done it countless times before. You think he knows. You think that’s why he keeps doing it.
“It’ll be better in bed,” he murmurs, pecking your lips. “Want you to be comfortable.”
Every part of you feels like it's buzzing. Warm static from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. If Dick set you down, you don’t think you would be standing.
If sex with Dick before was good, this was nirvana. And he had barely started touching you.
He kicks the door closed with his heel then gently lays you out at the end of the bed. You’d told him before how grateful you were for his money, only if for the fact that it meant that his bed felt like heaven. A fluffy comforter and egyptian cotton sheets for you to ease down into as Dick starts shimmying your shorts down your thighs. He groans at the sight of your, admittedly, unsexy panties.
He kneels down and spreads your legs wide, pinning them open with his shoulders. His arms wrap around your thighs and he tugs you the last couple inches so that your ass is at the edge.
“So beautiful,” he grins, biting the inside of your thigh. His thumb flicks over the tiny bow on the front of your old cotton panties. Your legs attempt to close, but the conspicuously Dick Grayson shaped object in front of you prevents that from happening.
“Please,” you whisper as you lean up your forearms to get a better look at him. His eyes flick up to yours as his head dips to press delicate kisses to your still clothed cunt. It’s not nearly enough to alleviate the ache building in you, but it raises the hair at the back of your neck all the same. You dig your heels into his shoulders in an attempt to drive him in closer. “I need you.”
“I know. Poor baby,” he hums, tongue coming out to flick your clit through the cotton. He uses his thumb to push the fabric aside before licking a flat stripe up your heat.
You wobble a bit, falling back into the sheets as your fingers find purchase in his curls. “Ah, Jesus, Dick.”
He laughs against you, the vibration causing you to clench around nothing.
“So fucking good,” he groans. The lewd sound of him slurping and sucking mixed with the feel of his tongue prodding at your entrance has to embarrassingly close already.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan.
“My girl’s gonna cum for me already?” he hums. “C’mon, baby.”
When he sucks on your clit, the band snaps. Dick hisses when you yank on his hair, nearly pulling him off of you, but he manages to stay put. He eases you through your orgasm with gentle kisses against your pussy, nose bumping your clit every so often. Once he’s satisfied with how twitchy you’ve become, he detaches himself.
Gently, lips following his fingers, he pulls your underwear off to drop them at the end of the bed. He stands up to his full height soon after, pushing his own shorts and boxers down his legs before he leans over your body. You reach out to grab his waist and tug him back between your legs. His head drops to slant his mouth over yours. He’s quick to part your lips with his tongue, the taste of you still lingering as he licks into your mouth.
“Pretty girl,” he grins once he pulls back. “Feel good?”
Nodding, you reach between you to wrap a hand around his cock. Your thumb swipes over the head, smearing the precum down his shaft. He groans, thrusting a bit into your grip.
“Shit,” he whines when you squeeze the base of him. You lock your ankles around his back and pull him in closer. “Wait, sweetheart. I gotta get a condom.”
“No,” you whine. “I want to feel you.”
“Baby,” he laughs when you squeeze him in tighter. The heat of his bare cock nudging against your pussy has your mouth watering. “Are you sure?”
He may be smiling, but his eyes are serious as they search yours.
“I’m on birth control,” you say, your cheeks heating at your next admission. “And I haven’t slept with anyone other than you since we started hooking up.”
“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly alight with something new. “You only let me make you feel good?”
He smooths his palms down your sides before wrapping a hand around where yours is gripping his cock. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth.
“I haven’t slept with anyone else, either,” he says as he lines up with your entrance. “If that wasn’t obvious.”
He slides into you slowly, jaw clenched and eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t breathe until his pelvic bone brushes yours, and the exhale he lets out is pitchy and broken.
“Hah- Holy- f-fuck,” he whines as he drops down over you. His weight is braced on one hand resting beside your head. The first roll of his hips is experimental, but you can see the way he short circuits. His balance wobbles and for a split second you worry that he might headbutt you. Or, you would’ve if the feel of him bare inside you didn’t already have you seeing stars. The second he starts to really move, he can’t help the broken pleas of your name that begin to spill from his lips.
“I love you,” you moan as you link your arms around his shoulders to hold him closer. You manage to get him to focus enough to drop a messy kiss to your lips, but it doesn’t last for long. It quickly devolves into a mix of teeth and spit as you both lose yourselves in the new sensation.
“I love you so much, baby,” he whispers. “God, this is a dream. You’re a dream.”
His thrusts start to get sloppy, a mix of jerky pumps and deep grinding. The way you’re clenching around him has his balls tightening at maddening speed.
“Cum in me,” you hum before he can ask when you feel his dick twitching.
“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. He uses the hand not bracing the brunt of his weight to reach between you to start rolling over your clit in tight circles. “Cum with me, sweetheart.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as the pressure builds tighter in your gut. Your brain goes a little fuzzy once your orgasm hits, a tingle traveling all the way down to your fingertips. Dick follows soon after. He manages to thrust a couple more times before his pace stalls at the hilt.
“There we go,” he pants. “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me.”
His forehead comes down to rest against yours. The both of you are breathing heavily with sweat beading along your temples, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt better. You’re beneath the man you love–full of him, actually–after having probably the best sex you’d had with him, and he loves you back. He loves you back.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, gently petting the side of your head. You lean into the touch, face tilting to kiss his thumb.
“I’m perfect,” you reply. He stays put, only moving to glide his lips along your hairlines, until your breathing goes back to normal.
Pulling out with a wince, he murmurs, “I know, I know. ‘M sorry.”
You almost want to trap him there, dig your heels into his ass and keep him inside you for the foreseeable future, but you let him pull out with minimal whining.
Dick leaves you for a minute, but returns with a washcloth in one hand and his phone in the other.
“What’re you doing?” you ask as you scoot up a bit on the bed.
“Cleaning you up,” he says easily
“No, why’d you go get your phone?” you chuckle.
“I’m deleting Tinder.”
“You had to do that right now?”
“I don’t need it anymore,” he shrugs before setting his phone down on the side table, apparently already finished with his task, and spreading your legs again to wipe you down with the warm cloth. Once he feels he’s cleaned you up to the best of his ability, he tosses the rag into his hamper and grabs a clean pair of boxers from the drawer. You half-expect him to leave you naked once he’s got the boxers pulled up, but are pleasantly surprised when he grabs another pair and a t-shirt for you to wear.
He crosses back over to you, sitting you up and lifting your arms up to slide the clean shirt over your head. The underwear is a bit more of a challenge to get on without forcing you to stand, but he does it with surprising grace.
“Hi,” you grin after you’ve both slid under the covers. You’re facing him, now, allowing your eyes to wander over his features.
“Hi, baby,” he says. He grabs one of your hands to press a kiss to the pad of your index finger. It’s all so easy, so familiar. You find it hard to believe that you hadn’t always been like this with him, but then again, maybe you had. Maybe that’s why it felt so right to slip into these roles with each other. To cross that bridge and finally stop pretending you were ever anything close to friends.
