Imagine a Dick Grayson x reader where Bruce accidentally walks in on them
YES, MY LOVE? ( Dick grayson! )
summary: Dick has a broken leg, a beautiful girlfriend, and a nice bed in a house where no one is around, so why shouldn't he enjoy his moment in the spotlight?
pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
cw: smut ( p in v), get caught.
open request - Dick masterlist
The manor was completely silent. Everything was wrapped in soft shadows, with the moon filtering through the hallway's enormous windows and the night breeze caressing the heavy curtains.
You'd received a message from Dick during the day asking you to come to the mansion to keep him company while he rested. He was tired of sitting alone, staring at the ceiling, counting nonexistent cracks, and complaining about "the sad temporary death of his nightlife." So why would you say no to your poor boyfriend with a broken leg?
You crossed the entrance without making a sound, went straight up to his room, and when you opened the door you found him lying on the bed, with an open book on his chest, the cast resting on several pillows and the face of a dramatic martyr.
"As far as I can see, you're alive, darling. How lucky you are." You said from the doorway, taking off your jacket.
"Barely. You don't know what it was like to watch three documentaries in a row about antique furniture restoration. I'm about to ask Alfred if I can rearrange the bookcase by color."
You approached, giggling, and carefully climbed onto the bed, lying down beside him. "So you need me to keep you from leaving your life as a security guard and becoming a decorator?"
"Exactly. My righteous soul is in danger," he replied, turning slightly toward you with that soft smile that seemed innocent as he rested his head on your chest. "And besides... I missed you."
You stroked his jaw, and he closed his eyes for a second, as if that simple gesture was what he truly needed to heal. Your lips found his in a slow, leisurely kiss, until you felt his hands clutch your waist with a mischievous smile until you pulled away. "I missed you too, Dickie."
He groaned faintly, as if hearing that nickname weakened him more than any wound on the battlefield. "Don't call me that if you're not going to stay all night," he said, hiding his smile in your collarbone, his voice vibrating against your skin.
"I have to go to college tomorrow" you sighed, your fingers playing with his hair.
Dick pulled away just to look at you, his brow furrowed slightly and his expression a mixture of Greek tragedy and subtle emotional blackmail.
"You can skip it. For a noble cause. You can say your boyfriend is slowly dying of boredom and needs constant company to survive."
You laughed softly as he gently pulled you towards him again, cradling you against his chest. "You're very persuasive for someone who's immobilized in one leg."
βIβm using the only thing I have left: my charm,β he replied in a deep voice, kissing the top of your head. βDonβt leave me tonight, i beg you, im young, vulnerable and hornyβ
You rolled your eyes, but clung to him with the same need. Dick had that dangerous ability to persuade; the way he touched you made you dizzy, the way each touch felt as natural as breathing. At some point, between laughter, soft kisses, and wordless promises, you both ended up under the sheets, sharing the warmth of a moment that seemed eternal. You couldn't help but think the force he used while he tried to move with his leg in a cast was ridiculous, but even that was adorable in its clumsiness. And you couldn't help but help him settle in while he gently pulled you on top of him, as if nothing could hurt him more tonight than the distance between you.
"Dick, are you sure there's no one here?"
"Trust me," he replied with absolute certainty, running a hand down your back. "We have the mansion to ourselves. It's a blessing from the universe. As if Gotham were saying: Today, Dickie, today is your turn to be happy."
You kissed him again, deeper this time. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he caressed your waist, his breathing mingling with yours. Your legs were on either side of his hips, the heat between you slowly rising like a tide. His hands, firm but gentle, gripped your waist, slowly guiding you to continue grinding his clothed cock, which you could feel growing at the friction of your panties.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky from the closeness, while his fingers went up just below your shirt, trying to remove it and let him see your songs moving to your rhythm.
Your smile curved at the sight of him so exhausted. You slowly lowered your torso until his lips found yours again. The kiss was hungrier, deeper. Your hands moved up to his already ready cock, feeling his muscles tense beneath your fingers.
"You're killing me," he murmured through gritted teeth, his smile barely trembling as he felt his cock sink into your wetness. "What a beautiful way to die."
"sure no one's there, right?" you whispered against his ear, a playful smile on your lips. "I don't want them to see me riding on your cock."
"I told you..." Dick whispered, smiling against your neck as he held you against him, not wanting you to move yet, both of you in his bed, sharing the warmth under the sheets. "No one's home. Alfred's in the cave, and Bruce left tonight. He never comes around."
His lips moved down your collarbone, and you chuckled, stroking his messy hair. His leg was in a cast, yes, but that hadn't stopped him from moving his hips toward you with that signature "I've been through worse, this isn't going to slow me down" look.
His hips found a rhythm of their own, slow but determined, grinding against you with clear purpose. That smile of his settled on his face.
"Look, I'm hurt, huh?" he murmured against your skin. "You could show me some mercy."
"More mercy than this?" you replied, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly, your voice barely trembling from everything you were feeling. "I'm riding you with my tits in your face. I can't do much more..."
Dick's laugh was drowned in a deep sigh. His fingers gripped your waist tightly, as if he needed to anchor himself to you so he wouldn't lose his mind.
The room, once silent save for broken whispers, was now filled with rapid breathing, wet thuds, and the creaking of the bed as the heat grew between you. It was a moment suspended in time, so intimate that it hurt to think it might end soon.
Dick's lips found yours in a hungry, almost desperate kiss, while his body, still limited, surrendered completely to what you allowed him to do. "Keep squeezing my cock baby, I'm gonna cum, shit," he murmured, his voice breaking, his forehead resting against yours.
Your hips began to move with more urgency, as if each touch sought to satisfy all the pent up needs of all those days of waiting. Dick looked at you as if you were all he needed to stay whole, as if the pain in his leg were just background noise compared to the comfort of having you like this, so close, so devoted. His fingers trembled slightly against your skin, but they didn't stop clinging to you, guiding you, seeking more of that connection that seemed to envelop them completely.
"Don't stop," he murmured, his voice hoarse, against your neck. "Please... don't stop."
"Dick, are you awake?" Bruce's deep voice cut off abruptly.
Both of you froze in that instant even though you had both had the best orgasm since you started dating, still feeling his thick threads of cum filling your soaked pussy, your first reaction was to cover yourself with the sheet up to your head, leaving Dick with his head resting against your chest, letting out an exhausted grunt.
Bruce didn't move for a couple of long seconds. "...You should be resting," he said at last, in that serious, dry tone he used when he was suppressing the urge to lecture.
"I was resting," Dick replied without lifting his head from your breasts, still hidden in the sheets.
"And no lock on the door."
"Whose fault is that?"
Bruce took a deep breath through his nose, as if he were doing mental yoga to keep from setting the mansion on fire. "Finish ruining the bed," he said, turning toward the hallway. "But we'll talk tomorrow."
Clic.
The door closed firmly.
Silence.
Dick stood there, leaning against you, completely motionless.
Jason Todd x reader! + Damian Wayne x platonic reader!
πΏSummary: You seem to be the only person that Damian Wayne, your grumpy little brother-in-law, seems to want around.
πΏ: English is not my first language. This is so cute and I loved doing it, just a happy (and maybe slightly dysfunctional) family.
When Damian was born, Jason and I had already been dating for almost a year. Even so, nothing could have prepared us for the chaos that came with his arrival. Wayne Manor had never felt so alive β and so loud. All the batboys were in a complete state of panic, pacing back and forth, arguing over absurdly small details as if the world would end if anything went wrong.
It was almost funny how badly they wanted everything to be perfect for the newest member of the family.
Jason, in particular, took the mission to a nearly dangerous level. He almost got into a fight with his brothers because he wanted to be the only one helping to set up Damianβs room. He didnβt accept suggestions, help, or even anyone elseβs presence. In the end, he got his way β but not before threatening nearly everyone, saying heβd pistol-whip anyone who tried to take that moment away from him.
When Damian was finally born, everything seemed to go quiet for a moment.
He was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen in my life. Small, delicate, with features far too striking for someone so new to the world. It wasnβt exactly surprising, considering that beauty seemed to be a hereditary trait in that family, but stillβ¦ there was something about him that held your gaze.
In the first few months, Jason and I went to Wayne Manor almost every day. Always carrying bags full of gifts, toys, and things he didnβt even know how to use yet. Damian seemed to enjoy the attention, as if he knew exactly when all eyes were on him. Even as a newborn, he gave off the strange impression that he understood everything around him β quietly observing, far too aware for his age.
Now, Jason and I are standing in front of the manorβs entrance, about to walk into Damianβs second birthday party.
In just two years, he went from being a quiet baby to an adorable little boyβ¦ or almost adorable. Damian never liked being picked up or showered with kisses by just anyone. He always made it very clear when something bothered him. I vividly remember a time when one of Dickβs friends tried to grab him without warning. Within seconds, Damian grabbed the TV remote and hit her square in the head.
For a few seconds, no one knew exactly what to do.
Laughing felt wrong. Apologizing did too.
After all, there stood a grumpy little mini-man, setting his boundaries loud and clear from a very early age.
Still, there was something that always surprised everyone in the family: Damian had grown attached to me. Not just anyone received his hugs, his affection, or his rare smiles. Not even his own father seemed to get as much affection as I did. When Damian wanted to be held, it was my name he called. When he was tired or irritated, it was with me that he calmed down.
Donβt ask me where that child got so much personality.
All I know is that, from the moment he was born, Damian always knew exactly who he was β and who he would allow to stay close.
When we walked into the manor, everything was decorated in shades of red and black, with a few touches of yellow scattered here and there. Everything looked impeccable β beautiful, even luxurious, considering the celebration was meant to be just for family. Bruce always preferred to celebrate moments like that in a more intimate way, far from big events.
As soon as Damian saw me walk in, the scene was almost comical.
He had a scowl on his face, staring at Tim, who was desperately trying to get at least one smile out of him for the picture. Nothing worked. Damian remained serious, clearly annoyed by all the attention. But the moment his little eyes landed on me, everything changed. His grumpy expression melted away and, as if by magic, he broke into a huge, ear-to-ear smile.
Tim looked confused for a few seconds before turning toward me. When he saw me, he rolled his eyes, immediately understanding the reason behind the sudden smile.
βOH MY GOD! HEβS SMILING!β Tim shouted, drawing everyoneβs attention.
All eyes turned to Damian.
Dick was the first to react. He pointed at me and made a desperate gesture for me not to move.
βStay right there! We need pictures of this grumpy kid smiling,β he said, nearly panicked.
βThatβs it, look at your muse and smile,β Tim joked, camera already in hand, snapping several photos in a row.
Beside me, Jason scoffed, but he couldnβt hide his smile.
βBabeβ¦ sometimes I think thereβs a man in this world more in love with you than I am, when I see the way Damian looks at you.β He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. βBut then I remember thatβs impossible.β
Damianβs smile stayed right there β firm, proud β as if he knew exactly the effect he had, and as if he were perfectly satisfied being the center of attention, as long as I was nearby.
As soon as we got closer, Damian immediately stretched his little arms toward me, asking to be picked up. He mumbled something that sounded like βsisterβ in his tangled baby language, pulling an automatic smile from me.
βHey, manβ¦ Iβm here too. An βhiβ would be nice, since you donβt seem to notice me at all,β Jason complained, gently grabbing Damianβs tiny hand and shaking it a little.
Before I could respond, a voice came from behind Jason, making us jump slightly.
βMan, I think Damianβs going to try to steal your girl when he gets older,β Barbara said. She hadnβt appeared until then.
Jason immediately crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the mini-man now settled comfortably in my arms.
βIβm gonna kill him, the little son of a bitch.β
βJason! Watch your language!β I scolded him seriously, giving his chest a firm slap.
He pointed at Damian, completely offended.
βSee? This little brat is already causing problems in my relationship.β
Damian, meanwhile, just laughed. He seemed not to care about Jason at all β or maybe he cared a little too much. As soon as Jason finished talking, Damian lifted his tiny hand, cupped my cheek, and kissed it. A completely slobbery, ridiculously adorable kiss.
I looked at Jason.
He was standing there, jaw dropped, utterly indignant and speechless.
When Damian pulled back, leaving my cheek completely covered in drool, he turned to Jason and stuck out his tongue with a triumphant grin.
For a few seconds, there was silence.
Then everyone burst out laughing, completely surprised by the little oneβs bold attitude.
βYou motherfuckerβ¦ Iβll let you grow up and thenββ Jason started, but was immediately cut off.
βJason!β I shot him a deadly look.
And that only made the laughter grow even louder, while Damian snuggled into my arms, clearly pleased with the chaos he had caused.
sypnosis: Dick Grayson, your vigilante boyfriendβs sex drive is high, but you know the perfect way to make it higher.
warnings: Big Dick!Nightwing, Breeding kink, pent up frustration, Hate sex, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Whiny!Dick, male moaning.
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Dick Grayson had always been a whirlwind of energy, the kind that pulled you into his orbit whether you wanted it or not.
Β As Nightwing, he danced through the shadows of Gotham with effortless grace, but around you, his girlfriend of nearly a year, he transformed into something far more personalβa cocky, touchy force of infatuation that made your heart race and your skin tingle.
You'd met him during one of his patrols, caught in the chaos of a street brawl, and from that moment, his blue eyes had locked onto you like you were the only light in the dark city.Β
Your dark hair, the curve of your hips, the way you bit your lip when you laughedβit all consumed him, turning him into a man who couldn't keep his hands or his desires to himself.
Your relationship had sparked slowly, but Dick's hunger ignited instantly. He was whiny about it, always pushing with that smug grin, his touches lingering like promises. You played it cool, denying him with a firmness that only seemed to stoke his fire, leaving him frustrated and you secretly thrilled by the tension building between you.
It started on your first real date at a cozy Italian spot hidden from Gotham's grit. Dick's arm draped over your chair, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. The candlelight flickered across his sharp jawline as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You look so damn good tonight," he whispered, voice rough with want. "Makes me want to ditch this place and get you alone. Feel you under me."
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, sipping your wine to steady yourself. "We're in public, Dick. Cool it."
He pouted, those full lips curving into a playful frown, his eyes pleading as he shifted closer. "Come on, just a taste? In the alley out back? I've been hard thinking about your mouth all day." His hand slipped lower, brushing the swell of your breast through your thin blouse, bold and unapologetic.
You swatted him away, a laugh bubbling up despite the spark in your core. "No, behave yourself."
But Dick never really behaved. As you left the restaurant, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his side. At a stoplight, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, lips grazing your skin. "Pull over now, and I'd have you pinned to that wall, skirt up, fucking you quick and deep before anyone notices."
"No," you said, voice steady even as your pulse quickened. "You're impossible."
"Insatiable," he whined back, revving his motorcycle as you sped into the night, his body heat seeping through your clothes, his mind clearly elsewhereβon you, bent and begging.
The teasing became a rhythm, one that pulsed through every moment you shared. A week later, curled up on your couch for a movie marathon, your legs stretched across his lap. His strong hands kneaded your thighs, starting innocent but sliding higher, fingertips teasing the edge of your shorts. You could feel him hardening beneath you, the thick ridge pressing up. "Please," he groaned, voice low and needy, guiding your hand to feel his erection. "Right here on this couch. I need to be inside you. The screen's just noiseβyour moans would be better."
You pulled your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest. "Not every hangout turns into sex, Dick. Have some patience."
He flopped against the cushions with a dramatic sigh, raking fingers through his tousled hair. "Patience? You're driving me crazy. I can barely focus with you so close." That cocky smile flashed as he tugged you onto his chest, your heart thudding against his.Β
"One deep kiss? For me?"
It turned into several, his tongue hot and insistent against yours, but you broke away before his hands could wander too far, leaving him whining into your shoulder about how cruel you were being.
Public spots were where his boldness shone brightest, turning everyday outings into charged games. On a sunny afternoon at the BlΓΌdhaven boardwalk, the ocean breeze tangling your hair, Dick intertwined his fingers with yours. But soon, his other hand rested on your hip, thumb dipping under your tank top to stroke the soft skin of your waist. The salty air mixed with his cologne, intoxicating as he nodded toward the Ferris wheel's colorful lights. "Private car up thereβno one would know. I'd have you bouncing on my cock, the whole city spinning below us."
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth pooling low in your belly betrayed you. "Ridiculous. Absolutely no."
He dragged you toward the line anyway, pressing his chest to your back, his arousal nudging your ass through his jeans. A soft, desperate whine escaped him as he rocked subtly. "Feel what you do to me? That's your fault. Let me fix it."
You elbowed him gently, suppressing a shiver. "Control it, Grayson. We're not animals."
He didn't control much that day. Stolen kisses in the dim arcade, where his hand squeezed your ass amid the flashing games; a grope in the bustling crowd around a juggler, his fingers digging in possessively; whispers during a sticky cotton candy moment, his lips at your ear promising how he'd lick the sweetness off your thighs if you'd just say yes.
Β Every denial from you only amped his infatuation, his touches growing more insistent, his whines more playful yet edged with real need.
Even Wayne Manor wasn't safe from his advances. During a quiet family evening, with Bruce buried in his study and Alfred in the kitchen, Dick lured you to the library with talk of his childhood comics.Β
Instead, he had you backed against the towering bookshelves, his mouth hot on your neck, sucking marks that made your breath hitch. His hands roamed your sides, bunching your shirt, grinding his hardness against your thigh. "God, I've craved this all week," he murmured, voice thick. "Let me drop to my knees, taste how wet you are for me. Right here, between these shelves."
You gasped, shoving at his broad chest. "Dick, not in your family's house! No way. I know for a fact Bruce has hidden cameras.β
He whined, forehead dropping to your shoulder, his breath ragged. "Why do you do this to me? I'm aching so bad it hurts." His eyes lifted, burning with that arrogant certaintyβhe'd break you down, eventually.
Months blurred into this intoxicating push-pull. Dick's obsession deepened; his texts during patrols buzzed your phone nonstopβshirtless gym pics with captions like 'Wish you were here, riding me instead' or 'Door's unlocked. Come let me fuck you senseless.' You'd fire back teasing rejections, keeping the edge sharp. In every brief touch, he sought more: fingers lingering on your lower back during goodbyes, lips brushing your temple in crowded elevators, his body always gravitating toward yours like a magnet.
One starlit night at a Gotham rooftop gathering, the skyline twinkling like diamonds, Dick cornered you near the ledge. The bass from the party below thrummed through the air, but up here, it was just you two, the wind whispering secrets. He pressed you against the cool metal railing, hands firm on your hips, drawing your core against the solid line of his cock. "Dance with me," he said, but his body moved with a different rhythm, hips rolling suggestively as his mouth captured yours in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep.
You pulled back, breathless, the city lights reflecting in his dilated pupils. "Not hereβanyone could look up."
"Let them watch," he rasped, cocky edge sharpening as he nipped your earlobe, fingers slipping under your dress to trace your inner thigh. "I want to hike this up, slide into you under the stars. Please, I'm begging."
"Not today," you managed, though your voice wavered, body leaning into him despite your words.
He whined softly, wrapping you in a tight embrace, his heart pounding against yours. "You're killing me slowly. The best kind of torture."
The tension simmered until it boiled over on that one electric night. Dick had been out with Batman, hunting an arms dealer through Gotham's labyrinthine alleys. The stakeout demanded focusβthe shipment could arm half the underworldβbut your image haunted him.Β
Perched on a jagged gargoyle, Bruce's gravelly instructions fading to static, Dick's mind wandered to you: the sway of your ass in those tight pants that morning, the floral hint of your scent as you kissed him farewell. His cock stiffened in the confines of his suit, throbbing uncomfortably as he pictured you spread on your bed, legs wide, taking every inch of him until you shattered.
He shifted, gaze slipping just long enough for the van to vanish into the fog. Back in the Batcave, the failure hung heavy, Bruce's fury erupting like a storm.
"Richard! What the fuck was that?" Bruce's voice boomed, his imposing frame looming as he stripped off his cowl, eyes like white-hot coals.
"Distracted," you heard Dick mutter later in your mind's replay, but in the moment, you'd been home, oblivious.
Bruce didn't let up. "Distracted? This is Gothamβpeople die when you lose focus. If you can't lock it down, you're benched."
The reprimand sliced deep, igniting the frustration Dick had bottled for months. His erection hadn't fully faded, now twisted with anger and raw lust. He tore out of the cave, motorcycle roaring through the streets to your building, the wind whipping his unresolved need into a frenzy.
You were on your balcony, your private sanctuary high above the urban sprawl. Potted herbs swayed gently in the breeze, string lights casting a warm, golden haze over the space. Wrapped in a thin robe, you reclined in a cushioned chair, tea steaming in your hands, letting the day's stress melt away. The city's distant hum was a lullabyβuntil a shadow leaped from the fire escape, landing with predatory silence.
Dick stood there in his Nightwing suit, the black and blue material clinging to every ridge of muscle, his domino mask shadowing his fierce gaze. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a storm brewing in his stance.
"Dick?" You set your cup aside, rising slowly, worry knotting your stomach. "What happened out there?"
No wordsβjust action. He closed the distance in a blur, hands clamping your arms as he hauled you up, crushing your body to his. His kiss was savage, lips bruising yours, tongue invading with desperate force as he maneuvered you toward the railing. The taste of himβsweat and adrenalineβflooded your senses, his gloved fingers digging into your skin.
You gasped against his mouth, hands pressing his shoulders. "Dickβslow down, talk to me."
"No talking," he snarled, voice gravelly with pent-up fury and hunger. His hands ripped your robe open, the fabric parting to bare your naked form beneath. Cool air pebbled your nipples as he cupped your breasts, squeezing roughly, thumbs circling the peaks until they ached. "You've teased me endlessly. Not tonight, tomorrow, not yetβevery damn time. I'm taking what's mine now."
Your protest died in another brutal kiss, his teeth grazing your lip, drawing a sharp sting that made you whimper. Through the reinforced suit, you felt himβhis cock, enormous and rigid, grinding against your stomach like a promise of ruin. Dick was huge, the kind of size that bordered on overwhelming, and in your heated whispers before, he'd confessed how it turned him on, knowing he'd stretch you to your limits.
He whirled you around, bending you over the railing so your torso dangled precariously, the night breeze kissing your exposed skin. Gotham stretched out below, a glittering web of secrets. "Look down there," he commanded, fisting your hair to arch your neck, forcing your eyes to the abyss. "The whole city's watching. And I'm going to fuck you where they can seeβclaim you loud and hard."
"Dick, waitβwe can'tβ" Your words fractured as his gloved fingers plunged between your thighs, finding your folds slick with unexpected arousal. He groaned, a deep, throaty sound vibrating through you, as he shoved two fingers inside, thrusting without mercy, knuckles deep.
"So wet for me already," he moaned, the whine creeping back into his tone as he curled his digits, stroking that sensitive ridge that buckled your knees. "All those nos, but your pussy's dripping. Begging for my touch. Take these fingersβget ready for what's next."
You clutched the railing, knuckles white, a moan slipping free as he added a third finger, twisting and spreading to accommodate his girth. The stretch burned sweetly, his pace unyielding, free hand yanking down his suit's zipper.
His cock sprang freeβheavy, veined, the head flushed and leaking. Thick as your wrist, nine inches pulsing with need, he fisted it once, a loud moan escaping. "Ahh, fuck... look at this monster. All because of you. Been dreaming of breeding you, filling that tight hole until you're overflowing."
The breeding fantasy tumbled out, primal and uncheckedβhe wanted to pump you full, watch his seed take root, mark you irrevocably as his. His fingers slid out with a obscene squelch, and he notched his tip at your entrance, the broad head parting you.
"Dickβcondom, at leastβBruce would kill us!" you panted, but he surged forward, embedding half his length in a single, ruthless drive.
"No protection," he grunted, moaning long and low as your walls fluttered around him. "Raw. Gonna breed this pussy deep. Make it mine." He inched further, splitting you open, the fullness bordering on too much. "Shit, you're gripping me like a vice. So small against my big cockβtake every inch, feel how I stretch you."
You cried out, the size consuming you, a delicious ache blooming as he sheathed fully, balls pressed to your ass. No pause, he withdrew slightly and slammed back, setting a brutal rhythm, hips pistoning with the force of his frustration.Β
Each thrust punched a moan from himβwhiny at the edges, then raw and animalistic. "Oh god, yes... ahh, your pussyβs sucking me in. Milk me, baby, Ngh! just like that."
He railed you mercilessly, Batman's scolding fueling the frenzy, hands bruising your hips as he yanked you back to meet him. The railing groaned under the assault, city lights smearing in your teary vision. "Gonna flood you," he panted, moans escalating. "Breed you fullβpump this womb until you're carrying me."
The words ignited something in you, your body betraying your earlier hesitations, pushing back to take him deeper. His massive cock battered your depths, the size kink alive in every drag, every stretch that made you feel utterly possessed.
Dick's thrusts stuttered, his whines turning frantic. "Fuckβclose, so close... ahh, take my cum!" He buried deep, cock throbbing as he erupted, thick spurts coating your insides. He rocked through it, moaning with each pulse. "Yes... filling you up, breeding you good... so much seed for my girl."
He didn't withdraw. Instead, he pulled out just enough for cum to trickle down your thighs, then dropped to his knees behind you. His tongue lashed your clit, sucking greedily, fingers diving back in to push his release deeper, fucking it into you with wet, insistent strokes.
"Dickβoh fuckβ" you whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair, the mask rough against your skin.
He rose, eyes blazing through the mask. "Not done. Need to ruin you more." With acrobatic ease, he scooped you up, carrying you to the lounge chair and laying you out like an offering. He peeled off the upper suit, exposing his sculpted torsoβabs rippling, chest heaving, then ditched the bottoms entirely. Bare save for the mask, his cock already swelling again, he straddled you.
"Open wide," he demanded, and you parted your legs, thighs trembling. He thrust home, slick with his own cum, moaning as he filled you anew. "Still so damn tight around me. Love how my huge dick owns this pussy."
This round started measured but rough, his weight pinning you, one hand trapping your wrists overhead while the other pinched your nipple, rolling it harshly. He ground deep, circling his hips to stir you, moans spilling freelyβbreathy, needy. "You... ahh, perfect. Gonna breed you again, flood you until it sticks. Feel me throbbing? All for knocking you up."
The dirty talk shattered you, orgasm ripping through as your walls clamped down, milking him. He chased it with a shattered moan, hips jerking. "Ahhhh.. cummingβyes, take every drop!" Hot jets mixed with the first load, his body shuddering atop yours.
Still buried, he flipped your positions, you sat on top of him now, his hands kneading your ass as he urged you to move. "Ride me hard. Show me you want this breeding."
Exhausted but fired up, you rolled your hips, his cock spearing new depths, brushing spots that made stars burst behind your eyes. Beneath you, Dick whined, that cocky facade cracked into pure vulnerability. "Fuck, yesβgrind on my thick cock. Squeeze me tighter."
The night dissolved into a blur of rounds, bodies slick and entangled. Back against the wall, your legs hooked over his arms as he pounded upward, fingers in your pussy first to stretch, then his cock claiming you raw, moans echoing his obsession with your tightness, his size, the urge to breed. By the third, your muscles quivered, but he flipped you onto all fours on the chair, entering from behind with a guttural groan. "One more loadβahh, shit, you're made for this. Taking my big dick like a champ."
He fingered your clit through your climax, then thrust deep, moaning hoarsely as he came again, seed spilling over. The fourth blurred into the fifthβon the floor now, with you beneath him, his pace slowing to deep, grinding rolls, whines softening to pleas. "Please... let me fill you one last time. Need to breed you completelyβ¦"
You nodded, spent and sated, and he drove in lazily but profoundly, voice breaking on your name, as his final release pulsed weakly, plugging you full.
Collapsed together on the balcony's cool tiles, his softening cock still sheathed inside, Dick's softer side emerged. He nuzzled your neck, lips tender now. "Sorry if I was too rough," he murmured, breath evening out. "But I can't stop wanting you. Love you too much."
You traced his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath the mask's edge, a smile curving your lips. "I know. And maybe... I won't say no next time."
His eyes sparkled, cock giving a faint twitch. "Yeah? Promise me that."
For now, you stayed tangled, the city a silent witness to your surrender, the air thick with the scent of sex and possibility.
β π 18+ | superboy prime whoβs scared of fucking you.
#drabble.α βΈβΈ post redemption!superboy prime βΈβΈ riding βΈβΈ nervous!clark βΈβΈ smutty&mdni!! .
β¦ masterlistγβ±γdc masterlistγπΌ ΝΝ
the door to your apartment barely clicks shut before youβre on him like a starved dog, hands fisting in his shirt as you drag him down the hallway toward your bedroom like youβre done with all the polite bullshit. clark lets out a startled laugh, trying to play it cool even as his ears flush pink. heβs trying hard not to show just how turned on he is by being woman-handled like that. βi wasnβt gonna leave this time, i swear,β he mutters against your mouth, voice soft and just a little bit whiny, but you both know thatβs a load of crapβheβs been pulling excuses for weeks. too scared to fuck you because wellβ¦ for starters, heβs never done this before. and secondly heβs scared of hurting you. adorable, right?
you push him until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sits down hard, glasses slipping, and eyes wide as you peel your dress off in one smooth motion. black lace bra, matching panties. fuck, the way he stares makes heat pool low in your belly.
βjesus,β he mutters under his breath, hands twitching at his sides like he doesnβt know what the hell to do with them.
you straddle his lap fast, knees bracketing his hips, and grind down once just to feel him. βclark,β you breathe, already working his shirt open button by button and shoving it off those broad, tense shoulders. βiβve been patient enough. youβre not backing out tonight.β
βyeah?β his voice comes out rougher than he probably means, trying to sound confident as his palms settle on your waist. βguess i finally came to my senses.β his fingers are warm against your skin, but you catch the slight tremble heβs trying to hide.
you smirk, grab his right hand, and drag it up until it cups your breast, pressing his palm firm against you. βlike this,β you whisper, guiding him. βyouβre not gonna break me, clark. iβm not made of glass.β
his breath hitches hard, but he squeezes anyway, thumb brushing over your nipple as you arch into it. he feels it pebble beneath his finger and you feel his cock twitch under you, thick and straining against his jeans already.
βyouβre really sure?β he asks, voice low, trying to smirk even as his other hand stays hesitant. he wonders why thereβs no crash course on how to fuck if youβve got dormant powers and youβre too scared to get in bed with a lady because of them.βiβmβ¦ kinda new to the whole βnot accidentally leveling a building during sexβ thing.β he leans in like heβs got this, kissing the side of your neck, then lower, lips brushing the swell of your tit while his fingers explore more boldly now that youβve shown him itβs okay. reassurance is important with a guy whoβs done the shit he has.
you moan softly and roll your hips again, feeling how hard he is. βtake my bra off.β
his hands shake just a little undoing the clasp, but he manages, letting the lace fall away. he stares for a second, then both hands are on you, squeezing, thumbs circling your nipples until theyβre tight and aching. when you gasp his name he gains just a little bit of confidence, enough to lean in and suck one into his mouth, tongue flicking wet and hot. βfuck, youβre gorgeous,β he mutters against your skin, voice rough as hell. βbeen thinking about thisβ¦ a lot.β
βyeah?β you grind down harder on the thick bulge in his pants, feeling him throb like heβs about to burst any minute. βyouβve been jerking off thinking about me, havenβt you?β it was a lucky shot, but the way he chuckles nervously and his face flushes tells you you hit the nail on the head with it.
his ears burn red but he tries to play it cocky. like he doesnβt feel like a teenage virgin. βiβ maybe.β he squeezes harder when you moan, hips bucking up once like he canβt help it. βcan you blame me? look at you.β
you push him flat on his back, working his belt open fast and shoving his jeans and boxers down his thighs. his cock springs up, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip, veins standing out along the shaft. βshitβ youβre big,β you murmur appreciatively, wrapping your hand around him and giving one slow, firm stroke from base to head, spreading the precum.
clark hisses through his teeth, head dropping back. βf-fuckβ easy, iβmββ he bites the inside of his cheek hard, but his hips jerk up into your fist anyway, chasing the heat. the friction heβs needed for so fucking long. finally itβs not his own miserable hand thatβs fucking him.
you lean over him, lips brushing his ear as you keep pumping him lazy and tight. βrelax, baby. iβve got you.β you kiss down his chest, slow and deliberate, tongue tracing the lines of muscle while your hand twists just right at the head on every upstroke. every time he tenses like heβs about to get too in his head, you squeeze harder or drag your thumb over his slit and he loses the words in a groan.
finally you slide your panties off, kicking them aside, and position yourself over him, rubbing his fat tip against your slick, dripping folds. clarkβs hands fly to your hips, gripping tight then forcing himself to loosen up, like heβs terrified of leaving any marks or bruises.
βwaitβcondom?β he asks, voice strained but trying to sound steady. his chestβs heaving now, breathing totally messed up. who can blame him when heβs this close to being inside you.
βon the nightstand. but iβm on the pill and i trust you.β you sink down just enough for his head to catch at your entrance, teasing. βyou still nervous?β
he lets out a shaky laugh, but his eyes are dark and hungry when they meet yours. βme, nervous?βokay, a little.β
you smile, the same one that gets him aching, and slowly sink down onto him, inch by thick inch. the stretch is perfectβhe fills you so deep your thighs tremble when he bottoms out.
clarkβs head falls back against the pillow with a broken groan. βoh my godβyouβre so fucking tightβ shitββ his fingers dig into your hips, trembling with the effort of staying still, cock pulsing hot and heavy inside you like heβs trying to hold back from blowing his load right then and there.
you moan too, the soundβs music to his ears, adjusting to the fullness, walls fluttering around him. for a second you both stay still, just breathing each other in.
βyou okay?β you ask, brushing hair off his forehead and adjusting his skewered glasses for him. heβd forgotten they were even there. he sighs when your nails lightly scratch his scalp.
he nods from behind the foggy frames, eyes half-lidded and glassy. βyeah. justβ¦ donβt move yet or iβm gonna embarrass myself.β that crooked, self-deprecating smirk tugs at his mouth, but heβs trying to sound cocky anyway. he really is. βsuper stamina apparently doesnβt apply when itβs this good.β
you laugh softly and roll your hips once, slow and deep, grinding your clit against him. clark curses loud, hands sliding up your back, pulling you down so your chests press together, skin hot and slick already.
βmove,β he whispers against your lips, voice rough and desperate with want. βplease. i wanna feel you.β
you start riding him properly then, lifting up and sinking back down, taking him to the hilt every time. clark groans, hips twitching up to meet you, still careful but starting to find the rhythm. his hands stay on your hips, guiding you a little better now, thumbs pressing into your skin like heβs testing how much he can hold on.
βfuck, babyβ that feels good,β he mutters, voice gaining a bit more edge. he thrusts up harder on the next downstroke, burying himself deep, and when you moan loud he does it again, a little more sure. βyeah? you like that?β
βmm, yeahβ just like that, clark,β you praise, rolling your hips faster, tits bouncing with every movement. he watches them like theyβve hypnotized him, then leans up to catch one in his mouth again, sucking harder while he starts fucking up into you with shallow, eager thrusts.
little by little the hesitation cracks. his grip tightensβnot enough to hurt, but enough that you feel itβand his thrusts get deeper and steadier. every time you clench around his thick cock he curses under his breath, but now thereβs a cocky little smirk tugging at his lips when he sees how wrecked you look. all because of himβall for him.
βshit, princessβ¦ youβre dripping all over me,β he says, voice low and rougher, trying to lean into that confidence. he flips you suddenlyβcareful but quickβonto your back, settling between your thighs without pulling out. βmy turn to take care of you.β
he pushes back in slow at first, watching your face, but when your legs wrap around his waist and you dig your heels into his back he loses a little more of that nervous edge. his hips snap forward harder, cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you on every thrust.
βfuckβ you feel so good,β he groans, burying his face in your neck for a second before he pulls back to look at you. βbeen wanting thisβ¦ wanted to fuck you right for so long.β his pace picks up, steady and deep now, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he gains more confidence with every moan you give him. his glasses keep tipping off his nose so he eventually just pulls them off entirely, tossing them carelessly onto the nightstand.
you reach up, tugging his hair. βyeah? then donβt hold back, baby. give it to me.β
clarkβs eyes darken. he hooks one of your legs higher, spreading you wider, and starts fucking you harderβstill very much controlled, still watching for any sign heβs too much, but clearly loosened up enough to get lost in itβin you. his cock stretches you perfectly on every thrust, thick and relentless now that heβs letting himself go a bit more. he canβt believe heβs been running from this and settling for his hands every night. what a fucking idiot.
βlike this?β he rasps, all smug but breathy, slamming in deep and grinding against your clit. βtell me how you want it. i can take itβ¦ i can handle you.β his free hand slides between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing messy circles, learning fast from the way your pussy clenches tight around him.
youβre moaning his name louder, nails raking down his back, and it only makes him thrust faster, more sure of himself. the nervous virgin from ten minutes ago is starting to disappear under the heatβreplaced by a clark whoβs fucking you like heβs determined to make up for every single time he ran.
youβre taken with a group of hostages, just another name on a list, without anyone realizing who you belong to. by the time damian finds you the villain who grabbed you has already untied you, and is practically begging for mercy. not from robin β from you, the only person who can pull him back.
damian wayne is invested.
damian grows jealous of your close friend, realizing he never learned where βfriendshipβ ends and βromantic interestβ begins.
nepo vigilante.
after your parents die, you inherit their legacy as vigilantes, reluctantly stepping into a life you never asked for. bruce takes you in to honor a promise to them, pairing you with damian, whose cruelty and perfectionism push you to your limits, until one day, fed up, you choose to train with tim instead, sparking damianβs outrage.
reflections that fit.
getting ready for a gala while your boyfriend sits on his bed pretending to sketch while secretly watching you through the mirror.
off your six.
after a mission goes sideways and the team argues over the fallout, damian is uncharacteristically silent. you barely know him, have barely spoken, but his focus on you and almost imperceptible concern over your injuries make it clear where his concerns are.
the last word.
damian drags you away from a conversation because he gets annoyed on your behalf.
academically unfortunate.
you and damian are ruthless college rivals until a party game forces you to reevaluate those feelings.
near.
he hates contact. except, apparently, when itβs you heβs inching toward.
half awake, wholly yours.
damian gets knocked out during a mission and wakes up post-surgery with enough pain meds in his system to dissolve every wall heβs ever built. youβre supposed to be secret, but he exposes your relationship, obliterated by narcotics and his complete inability to hide how deeply heβs attached to you.
when iron breaks.
a boy raised to be unbreakable finally meets someone strong enough to love himβthen loses them by forgetting strength isnβt the same thing as being disposable.
when he wakes.
damian wayne cannot sleep, so he graciously allows you to stay in his room, purely for practical reasons, obviously, and definitely not because he doesnβt want to be alone.
by no design.
you are not required for his degree. you are, inconveniently, unavoidable.
boyfriend!damian texts.
text post + headcanons!
classified: for your eyes only.
a letter falls in front of you. do you read it?
κοΉγDICK GRAYSON γ NIGHTWING β π―
boyfriend!dick texts.
text post + headcanons!
κοΉγJASON TODD γ RED HOOD β π―
fuzzy.
shotgunning jason todds cigarette smoke.
itβs complicated. (and so are you)
toxic situationship headcanons.
jason & brainrot.
headcanons.
boyfriend!jason texts.
text post + headcanons!
κοΉγTIM DRAKE γ RED ROBIN β π―
detective or fanboy?
someone tell him this isnβt research
the discipline of staying away.
thereβs nothing wrong with being loyal to someone you donβt talk to
i believe in fairytales.
timβs finally happy. that might be the first warning sign.
κοΉγBATFAMILY γ PLATONIC FICS β π―
family photo.
you decide itβs finally time for a family photo. nothing fancy, just a casual picture to commemorate everyone actually being in the same room for once. but of course, this quickly devolves into chaos.
batfam aesthetics.
βοΈ΅ including π π π bruce wayne β± barbara gordon β± cassandra cain β± damian wayne β± dick grayson β± duke thomas β± jason todd β± stephanie brown β± tim drake
κοΉγSHIPS γ DAMIJON β π―
the night moves us closer.
after a long, draining night, neither of them bothers pretending they donβt want the comfort. they end up letting exhaustion pull them closer even though theyβve never defined what any of this is.
the what-is.
jon goes to kon for some advice about his new crush + using that advice to confess
Anam Cara β understood and loved for exactly who you are
Jason Todd x Mute!Reader
soulmate!au
summary: Jason's soulmate is mute, but he doesn't know any ASL.
warnings: none, fluff, slight angst, short mugging scene, slightly awkward Jason, no y/n used
based off of this request
The first time he saw you, was in the local bakery, where you communicated with the baker through a small notebook, writing down your order with a small smiley next to it. Sure, it was strange seeing it, taking a second to register why you are using it like that. Maybe you were deaf?
After observing subtly, it was clear that you were actually mute. You still reacted to noise, to what the baker asked with either a nod or shaking your head 'no', you still managed to steal his whole attention every time you smile sweetly at the baker. Something about you drew him in so easily, and he didn't mind it one bit.
What's your name?
Is the first thing you decide to write down once Jason got your attention after approaching you on that same day.
Oh, right. I hope she can read my handwriting, Jason thinks to himself before taking your pen gently and writing his name in the most beautiful handwriting he can manage. He can feel your eyes on his hand, quietly analysing every single thing, from how he holds the pen, to the way his breathing slowed down, as if it could hurt you if he were to breathe too loudly.
You smile softly at his written name on the notebook, meeting his eyes briefly, before pointing at yourself and writing down your own name next to his. He studies it briefly before repeating it to you, looking for affirmation.
It is then when his wrist starts to hurt, ignoring it for the time being so he can focus fully on you instead. Jason doesn't notice the way you hide away your own wrist under the small table between you.
The conversation starts to flow easily from that moment, the pages of your notebook filling endlessly with both of your handwritings. Eventually, the bakery starts closing, and you get kicked out into the fresh air together.
When can I see you again? Jason writes down, forgetting he can just ask it outright now that you two are alone. You seem to ponder for a moment before scribbling down your answer quickly, turning it over to let him see.
Does tomorrow work?
Jason never said yes so quickly in his life before. Before actually going your separate ways for the day, you exchange your phone numbers, just in case something comes up.
You go home feeling both thrilled and uneasy. It has been a while since you genuinely met someone who seems to be interested in you, and you are not sure how to fel about that.
The rain wouldn't seem to stop anytime soon, and you were already late to meeting Jason. You managed to stroll into the local cafe without slipping on the wet floor, quickly finding the white tuft of hair among the other guests, and seat yourself next to him.
Jason smiles faintly and shifts to make more room for you. The notebook finds its place on the table in front of you, sitting right between you so it is more comfortable to write into it.
Did you order already? You write down quickly before looking up at him, waiting for his answer. Jason hesitates briefly before nodding his head once. Something in his mind seemed to click a second later, straightening up in his seat.
Β»Ohβ I can order for you, what do you want from here?Β« His voice is even more gentle, a soft rumble that reminds you of a dark but cosy autumn evening.
Your brain scrambles for an order before scribbling it down for him. He reads it quickly before nodding and wandering off to the front counter, ordering your coffee order. The light sting on your wrist slowly appears again, but you quickly disregard it once Jason walks back to your table.
You let the pen down against the notebook, letting him take it if he wants to write down something.
Do you read books?
That's exactly how it started, before you both get into another easy and long conversation, mostly ranting about books and other mutual interests. The pages start to fill again, becoming fuller and messier, and at some point you can't read some of his handwriting as he becomes more passionate about the topics.
At some point, the gentle conversations slow down, and you both focus more on your coffee orders. You manage to catch a glimpse of the initial carved into his wrist when his sleeve pulls down for a brief moment. That's notβ no, it can't be. Mute people can't have soulmates.
The day ends with Jason driving you back to your apartment block, insisting on it since it got dark quickly. You didn't tell him about never having been on a real motorcycle before, but he seemed to notice when your hands were shaking around his shoulders before he took off. Jason didn't mention it, just quietly made sure you were okay the whole time.
Just tap my shoulder two times to signal you are okay. Three times means you are uncomfortable. He wrote down before driving you back home safely.
You fell asleep feeling the faint rumble in your whole body from the motorcycle, and the slight sting on your wrist from his initial.
Your next encounter was completely accidental. You were carrying your groceries back home from the subway station when suddenly someone yanked at your bag, forcefully pulling it out of your grasp, and ripping the shopping bag in half on accident.
You didn't make a sound despite your heart racing and growing pale, trembling terribly as the mugger screams at you to pick it all up for him. Through the panic, you don't realise the man approaching the scene quickly and shielding you behind his back. You can't even register what happens next, but soon enough, the mugger escapes after the man threatened him badly, and got your groceries back together for you.
Β»You alright, sweetheart?Β« He didn't mean for the pet name to slip out so easily, but he didn't care at the moment. You barely manage a nod before curling against his chest, silently letting out sobs against his opened jacket. Jason's arms circle you gently, one hand cupping the back of your head to keep you steady.
Β»Shh, it's okay... I'm here now, hm?Β« He consoles you as best as possible, voice a sweet rumble underneath your cheek.
Slowly but surely, he helps you get back to your apartment, ensuring your safety the whole time. Once inside, you refuse to let go of his hand. He understand immediately.
The rest of the evening is spend with him helping you with stocking up the kitchen again, and completing some of your chores together. There's a comfortable silence lingering between you, while you focus on your tasks, that neither of you wants to interrupt.
Β»Sweetheart, I have to go soon. Is that okay with you? Uh, work calls.Β« Jason eventually speaks up after it's all done, looking for your reaction. You nod simply, already calmed down from the earlier mugging. You don't even question anything anymore, just feeling too tired to do anything else.
Jason takes your nod as a yes and steps up closer to you, being cautious to keep a reasonable distance between you. His hand raises up to you before it goes back to his side, letting out a quiet huff.
Β»Sorryβ yeah, I should go. You should get some rest.Β«
That makes you frown immediately. You shake your head and step closer instead, catching his wrist into your hand to keep him close. His body tenses up briefly before relaxing, looking down at you to try and figure out what your next plan is. You blink up at him before nodding toward your bedroom, letting out a soft sigh. Jason's eyes widen, trying really hard not to let his mind wander to other places.
Β»Uh... okay.Β« He follows you into your room, watching as you sit down on the edge of your bed and pull out your notebook from your nightstand.
Stay until I fall asleep. Please. Jason reads your written words and nods once, sitting down on the floor beside your bed, still holding your hand in his. You settle under your blanket and shut your eyes, squeezing his hand gently before slowly drifting off to sleep.
He can't help but watch you the whole time, the way your breathing slows down and your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, the fact that you feel so safe with him that you fall asleep.
He doesn't go to patrol that night.
BONUS:
Β»Jason, care to explain why you are learning ASL?Β« Damian judges from the side, not bothering to hide his facial expression from his older brother.
tattoos and worship - you get a new tattoo to surprise your husband who is obsessed with you
coming out - you come out as pansexual to your father, Bruce Wayne, who actually knows how to express emotion in this fic
DICK GRAYSON
stressed out - Dick comes homes and find his partner overworking themselves, trying to prep for their final exams and is having none of it.
JASON TODD
empathy - Jason finds you, a mute kid in crime alley, and takes you back to the batcave to be patched up before making a sudden big decision when Bruce finds them there and offers help part two
random quirks/headcanons
library meet cute - Jason goes to the library only to find his spot taken up but someone who proves to be his type more than he though anyone could
hard days - Jason helping you through one of those hard days where everything feels too hard
TIM DRAKE
brother!tim drake - after a hard patrol, Tim reminds you not to be so hard on yourself in the most brotherly way
accidental reveal - Tim Drake accidentally reveals his identity to you, his roommate, and certainly doesnβt expect your reaction
DAMIAN WAYNE (age 18-20s unless said otherwise)
animal interest - Damianβs father drags him along to an old acquaintances house for intel, only to find that her teen also has an interest in animal rescues. In other words, she has a rescued panther as a pet
pretty doctor - under the influence of pain medication after an accident, you see your new doctor, Damian Wayne, and canβt help but flirt with him, immediately falling in love. part two
trained - Damianβs partner had an unknown past with throwing knives and he finally gets to the bottom of it. Discovering your little hobby and wanting to know and see more
caught - you and Damian are kissing in his room and his most energetic brother decides to barge right in
a new wonder - Wonder Womanβs daughter comes to earth for the first time and is expected to work with Damian during her time there, but both of them are immediately staring each other down with threat in their eyes part two
CLARK KENT
stomach pain - Clark comes home from work only to start taking care of you the second he realizes that youβre on your period and dealing with cramps
is it dead? - you find Metropolisβs very own Superman bleeding out in a Gotham alleyway and kick him to make sure heβs not dead
love and lust - admiring your boyfriend some how turns into wedding talk
ROY HARPER
morning yoga - Roy somehow wakes up early and catches you doing yoga, joins in as well after a quick make out session because heβs obsessed <3
