𑣲 ⬩ ꒰ baby, don’t get this twisted ?! ( 𝐍𝐎𝐀𝐇, 𝟗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ) , bubblegum lip gloss , argentina y portugal , dick grayson’s wife , low-waisted shorts , tate mcrae , nothing could make me miss it . . . ragdoll , dirty pop , jason todd’s side piece , qt , beachside martinis , on the rocks , y2k , take him, he’s yours !! ꒱ ⬩ ༝༚༝༚
ANNOUNCEMENTS : to be perfectly clear, I do not support the use of AI and do NOT consent to my work being fed into AI chatbots. If you disagree, get off my blog.
WHERE :: your best friend hooked up with your boyfriend. so you hooked up with her ex.
SERVES : tatiana ( mdni! ), bsf goes low, reader takes it to hell, dick’s a willing and aware participant, he wants to get revenge too, riding, pussy eating, he’s a tits man, a you man, exhibition kink ( sorta ), heavy making out, humping, petty reader and we love to see it !! bsf cheated on dick with reader’s bf in this case, lipstick marking, hair tugging, fingering, making out hardcore, face riding, slightly buzzed but they’re lucid enough to give consent.
You thought your world would crash when your boyfriend sent a drunk picture of some girl in a denim skirt straddling his bare hips. Especially when you saw the butterfly tattoo on the girl's thigh that looked exactly like the one Vanessa got when you were both sixteen. You'd paid for the bitch's tattoo.
But nothing crashed.
You felt nothing. Killing two birds with one stone, your grandmother would call it. Was that what it was supposed to feel like? Maybe you should cry a little.
You tried. Didn't work. Hell, why should it? He cheated on you, that wasn't your problem, he couldn't keep it in his pants. It was more of a sign that he was a manwhore with no care for hygiene.
Usually in the movies, there'd be a crying ex girlfriend with the shining knight coming to wipe the tears and fuck the girl until she forgot about her dirtbag ex. You had no knight by you, so maybe that wasn’t your narrative.
You hadn’t rung up the girls from work for a vent session, hadn’t broken open the wine or the Ben and Jerry’s. Just carried on with the Friday tradition of unwinding with a couple of snacks while watching cheesy rom-coms about giggling, blushing girls and charismatic men with raging red flags.
“Run, girl,” You muttered when the male lead said some bullshit about ‘you don’t have to worry about her’.
About twenty missed calls from Carter sat on your phone. Fifty texts from Vanessa. You'd declined every single one, swiped on every text message. You were just watching Kill Bill now and munching on a bag of chips when your phone buzzed again. Your groan was muffled by the potato, fumbling for your phone. "Bitch, I'm not gonna— huh." You tilted your head to get a better look at the message.
Hey, it's Dick. Can we meet up to talk?
How the fuck did Vanessa cheat on this man?
You’d known Dick ever since he and Vanessa were in the early stages of dating around two years ago, and you hated to admit it, but he was one objectively sexy man. Who was sat there with a cappuccino in a local Blüdhaven coffee shop, looking the most tortured you’d ever seen him, over a girl who cheated, nonetheless.
You sipped your latte. “You look like shit, Dick.” Your voice was softer than intended. Maybe a portion of you felt bad. “What’re you thinking?”
He scrubbed his face. “I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to drag you out here to sit in silence, I’m just… confused. How could she— did I do something?”
You sat forward in your seat, raising an eyebrow, sighing. “Really?” You clicked your tongue noncommittally. “You’re gonna blame yourself for this? Dick, you got her expensive jewellery to ask her to be your girlfriend, you were pretty fucking perfect.” He’d done the research. Seen what colour jewellery she wore, if she preferred gold or silver, her birthstone, what cut, how long, and got it custom made. If he did anything wrong, you’d be surprised. “It’s her fault.”
He looked sceptical. He even let out a disbelieving scoff, like you were talking bullshit. “You don’t seem heartbroken. Like, at all.”
You shrugged, stirring your latte with a wooden stick. “If she can take him, she can have him. Carter couldn’t do anything without his mother’s approval anyway.”
His nose wrinkled. “Yikes. That sounds rough.”
"Why'd you offer to buy me coffee anyway?" His text had come out of nowhere, but he probably had his reasons. One or two at least.
His sigh was of defeat as he rubbed a sugar packet between his fingers, rubbing the back of his neck with another hand. “I just— you got caught up in my ex-girlfriend’s shit, and it felt unfair.”
You gestured to him. “You got caught up in my ex best friend and my ex-boyfriend’s shit, so arguably, I should be paying for this.”
“But I already paid.”
“So let’s go out for a drink sometime.” You shrugged. “I wanted to get wasted and forget about this anyway, might as well take you with me.”
His grin was blinding, the kind of thing Vanessa used to giggle about when she first met him. “A little too soon to go out for drinks, huh?”
“It’s a proposition.” You laughed, shrugging. “Drinks on me. Let’s go tomorrow.”
Dick had been used to fancy hotel bars, at least whenever Bruce had thrown parties with bars included. The ones where the bartenders wore suits and ties with top shelf liqueurs.
He felt a sort of thrill when you dragged him into a bar on the corner of 6th, one with dim, flickering warm lights that clashed with blue and purple ones. The bartender wore plaid, spoke in a thick Boston accent, had an unkempt five-o’clock shadow. The bar top was wooden and chipped, and on the makeshift dance floor were plenty of drunk people grinding on each other.
“Oh, this is amazing,” He couldn’t help but smile widely, turning to you. “There are places like this in Gotham?”
“Yes, Mr Trust Fund— Scott!” You flagged down the bartender. “Can we get a round of shot roulette?”
“Sure, sweetheart.” Scott flashed you a smile, wiping down a glass before heading to set up the shot roulette.
Dick turned to you, leaning on the bar slightly, tracing the wood grain with his finger. “So, you come here often?”
You perched yourself on a barstool, prompting him to do the same. Something that sounded like 50 Cent was playing on the speakers in the corners, bass thrumming in the back of your mind. “Oh, all the time. Best place in Gotham.” The shots were slid in front of you, and you both grabbed the glass and chucked it back, both of you humming. “Huh.”
“Kind of… fruity.” He mused, staring at the shot glass, putting it down. He glanced at you through his stupidly long and pretty lashes, clearing his throat. “How did you find out that… never mind.”
You chased the alcohol down with water. “I got a photo of a girl fucking Carter.” You scoffed lightly. “I saw a tattoo on her upper thigh that I’d paid for when we were in college.”
He ran a hand through his hair, huffing. “Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry— she just came clean to me. Maybe after you found out.”
“It’s not your fault.” You said lightly, waving your hand. “It’s theirs. They couldn’t keep it in their pants, Vanessa had a great, hot guy and she lost him, so…”
He couldn’t help his soft smile. “You’re gorgeous too, you know. Carter doesn’t know what he lost.” His eyes flicked down, to your lips, then to a barely working lightbulb like a moth would. But you caught it.
Your teeth snagged your bottom lip.
Vanessa made a huge mistake.
Dick’s hand was firmly on your jaw, leaned over the centre console of his Bentley so his lips could slot easily against yours. Your hand was carding into the floppy strands of his hair, swallowing each other’s heavy breaths. His cologne was deliciously clouding your senses, the hand not on your jaw reaching behind you to grab at your ass, squeezing, teasing your bottom lip with his warm tongue. His mouth separated from yours to burn down your neck, laving your pulse, pressure on your jaw gone in favour of tugging your shirt down over one shoulder to palm your tits over your bra.
“Your apartment is,” You paused to moan quietly, tugging his hair as a keep going, “literally right there. We can — fuck — get comfy.”
He nodded into your neck, brushing your skin with his lips one more time before looking you in the eye. “Good idea.”
You couldn’t remember how you actually got into his apartment, but you did remember stripping him of his clothes and pushing him down onto his bed, unclasping your bra. He hummed, biting his lip. “I have an idea.”
“I’m all ears.” You breathed, your breathing stuttering as you ground your panties-covered pussy over his boxers-covered cock.
His hand slid over the back of your neck, encouraging you closer. “Let’s send them a photo,” He murmured, pecking your lips, his nose rubbing against yours. “You know. Revenge.”
Your hand was already scrambling for your phone, switching to selfie mode just as he smashed his lips to yours, your thumb hitting the circular button and taking the photo. “Good?”
“Yeah, fuck, that’s hot,” He nodded, tugging you so he could kiss you, middle finger reaching down to rub at your entrance over your panties. “You’re soaked, shit, sweetheart,” He reached up and tugged, sliding down the lace covering your pussy with his pointer until they slipped off, lazily chucking your panties into the corner of his room. “C’mere.” He grabbed your hips and pulled you till your pussy was right above his mouth.
Wait what— fuck.
His mouth wrapped around your clit as two fingers pushed into your cunt, practically sucking his fingers in, dear God. Your head fell back, mouth dropping open as a surprised moan left you, hand shooting to grip his hair. He groaned, deep in his throat, other hand pressing on the small of your back to encourage you to grind your clit on his tongue that was circling and pressing on your clit.
“O—Oh, Dick—”
“Yeah, that’s right, give it to me, baby.” He moaned, yanking his fingers out, and just before you could protest at the loss of anything filling your aching pussy, he thrusted his tongue into you, flicking at your clit with his thumb, his nose bumping occasionally against you. The taste of you on his tongue made him want to sing your praises, but it came out muffled, the vibrations making your hips twitch and eyes roll back.
Repeated cries of “yes” punctuated by your broken moans fuelled his ego and his already painfully hard dick. With your walls fluttering around his tongue fucking into you, he’d say you were fairly close.
A lot of things were going through your head. Like how this was a stellar pussy eating. How Carter refused to let any part of his face touch your vagina. How Dick was so willing and drinking your arousal up like it was the gods’ nectar.
You were coming on his tongue soon enough, pulling at his hair to make him moan and lap at your cunt faster, slicking his lips and chin.
A minute later, he was still kitten licking you clean, and as much as the stimulation made you stroke his hair and whisper praise, you needed to get a move on. So you pulled yourself away from his mouth, pulling down his boxers while he whined and pawed at your hips to try and bring you back.
“M’ not done— fuuuuck,” His head dropped back into the pillows, giving way for the weight, as you sank down onto his waiting cock. Your warm walls wrapping around him, making his head spin before he snapped into reality. His hands took hold of your hips again, helping you move on him, thumbs kneading your skin as you dragged up and down his dick.
He hadn’t felt like this before. Your lips were on his neck, leaving kiss prints on his skin, from his chest to his jaw and around his lips. Raising your phone and clicking a photo of his fucked-out grin as you rode him, thumb hovering over send to Vanessa.
“You ok with this?” Your voice was uncharacteristically soft, circumstantially breathy, your nails raking down his abs and making him shiver.
He grabbed the phone, pressed send himself, propping himself up so he could take one of your tits into his mouth, sucking to stifle his shamelessly loud moans. Wasn’t working. “Mhm— ride my fucking dick, gorgeous,” He gasped between switching to your other tit, laving over your skin with his tongue. “Just like that, so perfect, honey.”
His mouth running away with him told you he was close, his thumb reaching to rub circles on your clit propelled you that much further, but you refused to come twice before he had even once, so you pulled his head away from your tits, bit his earlobe and sucked a mark behind his ear.
He shuddered and groaned your name, hot come spilling into you — morning after pill, here we come — and the twitch of his cock sent you straight after him, his mouth slamming sloppy into yours, gripping the back of his neck while his tongue slid over your lower lip and his lips following straight after.
You milked him for all he had, until you were both panting and he was staring up at you through his lashes like he wanted to fuck you on all fours. “Wanna go again?”
“We’ve got time.”
carter -> you
carter : c'mon, baby, let's talk about it
you know i love you
she didn't mean anything i swear
i can't live without you sweets
you : she's busy.
carter : doing what???? who is this ???
you : fucking me. it's dick, btw ;)
carter : vanessa's ex? you piece of shit
give the phone back to her
[ blocked ]
vanessa -> dick
vanessa : you're really gonna throw years away for that bitch ?you're mine
i want you back let's talk about this
i miss you so bad
we can go to couples counselling, work on our problems together
you weren't really fulfilling my needs, i had to look out for myself
dick : for a guy who wasn't 'fulfilling your needs' nessie he sure was fulfilling mine
vanessa : youre such a bitch
to think you were my best friend
fucking my EX ??? could you go any lower ??
dick : *you're
vanessa : UGH
He's looking up at you with wide eyes through foggy glasses, big hands desperately pawing at every inch of your waist and hips. You're smiling down at him, hands on his chest as you lazily roll your hips on his cock, his reddened tip leaking deep inside your pussy.
"Gosh… feels s'good," he manages to babble between whines, voice shaky and lashes fluttering with every movement. His words spur you to roll your hips faster, grinding his fat cock right against your cervix, wet squelching sounds harmonizing with his now louder whimpers.
His thick arms pull you down onto his chest, needily wrapping around you as he stuffs his face into your sweaty shoulder. His hips desperately buck upward, creamy slick mixed with his earlier load coating his length with every fervent rut. The viscous mixture creates an obscene glide between your bodies.
This is how it always ends, with him holding you as close as possible, your bodies practically mended together into one. Clark's a clingy man, something you knew before. The intensity of it still surprises you when he suffocates you against him as he thrusts inside, stretching you full for hours.
"Need to cum 'n you, please sweetheart…" he begs, voice slightly muffled against your skin. His balls are tight and aching, covered with slick and cum, slapping against your ass with every needy rut.
"Go ahead. Y'deserve it," you whisper with a kiss against his temple. His body immediately responds to your reassurance, unloading inside your sloppy pussy with a final, impaling thrust from below. Hot white load fills you up and oozes onto his pelvis, his twitching hips making it drip onto the sheets. His cries fill the room, his voice broken and high.
You slowly grind onto him, milking every drop out of him through his climax. His cock throbs hard making your pussy clench and spasm around him. His body starts to relax, his hold loosening around you as he trembles, breaths uneven as he comes down.
He's so fucked out, eyes glossy and mouth swollen. Too bad the tremulous sight turns you on all over again.
I think people should relearn the etiquette of "Don't like, don't read" and "you're not forced to engage"
Fanfic writers are writing for fun and shouldn't be taking the brunt of online hate for sharing what they wrote. People who can't keep themselves from being rude to others won't fix anything. In fact, they'll just complain about the lack of fics in the fandom.
What we need in a community is to uplift one another not tear someone up because they didn't write something that was your perfect cup of tea. You don't even need to comment anything! You have no obligation to do so.
"there's too much x, y and z, why can't people write a?"
Hmm, I don't know, maybe because fanfic writers write what they want? Maybe the people who're complaining should start writing the things you want to see more of? People aren't going to be at your beck and call because you want them too. It's so tiring to see this happen so often in fandom culture.
i wouldn’t have wasted my breath defending her anyway because all of the invites are very intentional! she don’t gaf just as much as the next rich white man, and the only thing that’s separates her from a rich white is that she’s a woman.
tbh as much as she donates to charity and whatnot, she has so much else to answer for. the purpose of my original post was to demonstrate that people don't hold men to the same standard they do for women.
