“i’m close.” “already?” — ft. dick grayson, aka 'nightwing'
“Ah- ugh, fuck, baby, I’m close.”
Dick groans, thrusting into you with fervor, and with the delicious way his hips snap against yours, you’re tempted to say the same. But instead, you blink up at him with innocent eyes. “Already?”
He freezes.
“What?”
Uh oh.
His electric blue eyes narrow as they meet yours, and your heart drops into your stomach.
“I- uh, I just…”
“What did you just say?”
You swallow, throat now dry. “Um…I, uh…said…already?” you manage to squeak out.
There’s a tense moment of silence as Dick stares you down.
“Um…Dick? Are you oka- oof!”
With one swift, graceful move, Dick flips you onto your stomach, pinning one of your arms above your head. “Wait wait wait, Dick, I’m sorry- ahh-!~”
Your protest turns into a moan when Dick shoves three fingers into your already dripping cunt, curling them smoothly against your g-spot.
“Ah- ugh, Dick, please-“
“Shut up, you slut.” He snaps.
Your eyes widen. “D-Dick? What’s gotten into you- mmph, shit-”
His fingers are aggressive now, thumb massaging your clit as he bites down on the side of your neck. “Sayin’ that to piss me off,” Dick growls. “‘Already?’ Really?”
He presses his broad chest into your back, his breath hot ’n heavy against your ear. “If you wanna play games, babe, we can play…just don’t expect to win.”
Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head with the way Dick’s fingers are now scissoring inside you, slick dripping onto the sheets. Moaning, you grind back against him, desperate, because—
“Oh, are you close, sweetheart?”
His voice is almost condescending.
“Haah- fuck, please!” You whine. “Please, Dick, I’m so close- ungh-”
But his fingers disappear and you whimper, the sudden emptiness almost painful.
“What, does my desperate little whore want to cum?” Dick chuckles, and a shiver runs down your spine. It’s unlike your sweet boyfriend to be so filthy, yet it’s so arousing. You squeeze your thighs together.
Dick brings his hand to your face, sliding his three fingers into your mouth.
“C’mon baby, suck. Be a good girl, and maybe you’ll get this dick you want so bad,” he murmurs, slowly slipping his hard cock between your thighs, grinding against your sopping cunt.
“Mmph- hngh-”
Tears slip out of your eyes as you choke on his fingers, still covered in your arousal.
“You look so fucking cute like this.” With a cocky grin, he pulls his fingers away, using his hand to turn your head back towards him.
“Oh, sweetheart. Maybe I should be rough with you more often, if you’re gonna look at me like that,” he breathes, wiping a tear from your cheek. Your cheeks are flushed red, lips quivering, drool dripping down your chin.
“Please, Dick, need you,” you whimper out, bucking your hips back weakly against his. “ ‘M-‘m so- s’close.”
Tilting your chin up a little further, he leans down to crush a deep, sloppy kiss against your lips, his tongue pressing against yours; and when he pulls away, you’re both breathless and gasping for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.
“Spread your legs f’me, babe,” Dick gasps into your neck, nudging your legs apart with his knee.
You feel his tip, heavy and hot and pulsing, pushing against your entrance. And when you feel him slide in, so torturously slow—only to stop—you nearly cry out of frustration.
“Stop teasing!”
Dick huffs out a laugh. “Be patient, baby.”
And with one smooth, long stroke, he bottoms out in you, yanking a moan from your lips. The stretch feels so, so good, his cock thick and hard and aching inside your velvet walls. And it feels even better when he pulls out, leaving just the tip throbbing inside you, before roughly slamming his cock back into your sopping wet pussy.
It nearly knocks the wind out of you, a strangled gasp leaving your throat. “Dick! Wait- I- that’s too- rough- uh- ugh- ah!”
He’s pounding into you at a relentless pace, balls heavy as they slap lewdly against your clit. The sound alone is so arousing that it makes your head spin, but combined with the sensation of his cock dragging against your soft walls, his mouth all over your body, and one of his hands teasing at your nipples, you can’t help but cum.
“Ah, I’m- cumming- ugh!”
Your vision goes white, stars spinning in the corners of your eyes, waves of pure pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs. Slick squirts down your thighs over your boyfriend’s cock, still thrusting into your overstimulated cunt, the salacious plap-plap-plap! of his balls against your cunt loud in your ears.
“Haah- did you just cum? Fuck, you’re such a whore,” Dick grunts.
You respond with a moan, trying to catch your breath, but he doesn’t give you a break. “C’mon baby, you’re done already?” He’s laughing, breathless, muscles glistening with exertion, and of course he doesn’t stop.
“We still have so many more rounds to go, sweetheart.”
“N-no, I can’t-”
You claw weakly at the sheets, thighs trembling. Dick hums, still pistoning his cock in and out of you at a ruthless pace. “You- ah- can be more selfish, baby. I- hah, just know my cute lil’ whore’s pussy is greedier- plap- than- plap- this-! plap!” he hisses, punctuating each of his words with a thrust that kisses your cervix.
But then he pauses for a moment, broad hands suddenly on your hips. “Here, lift that ass up for me, babe. Mm, there ya go, good girl.” Dick’s voice is so sultry, vibrating in your ears, and even though you’re already overstimulated, your cunt clenches at his words.
“Dick…I- haah, ah- hngh-”
“Arch that back for me, love. Mhm, just like that…fuck, that’s pretty. Stay like that.”
Thighs trembling, wetness slipping down your legs onto the sheets, you instinctively rut backwards into his cock, desperate for your second release.
Smack!
“Hey now, babe. Don’t rush,” Dick purrs into your ear. He gives your ass another smack! and a moan slips from your throat. “Atta girl.”
His voice has your cunt fluttering. “Please, Dick, I- I need you,” you blubber out, whining and whimpering. The sting of his hand feels good, you think, brain addled with lust. “N-need more of you, need your-your cock so bad.”
And when he finally slides into you, the stretch of his cock inside your warm, wet cunt is delicious.
“Fucking hell, babe,” Dick pants out. “Cute ‘lil pussy feels so good ’n tight…got half a mind to knock you up right here, right now.” And with a grunt, he starts thrusting into you.
You’re trembling and writhing under his broad silhouette, toes curling and drool dripping onto the sheets. He’s railing you so hard that you can hear the bed frame creaking, even in your lust-addled state. His cock feels so good, kissing all your most sensitive spots, pressing and pounding into your soft heat at such a punishing rhythm that you can barely breathe.
You can’t piece together sentences anymore, babbling out incoherent nonsense as Dick ruts into you.
“C’mon babe, you know I- I can’t understand you- haah- when you babble- like that-” he groans, hips snapping against the plush of your ass, his pace becoming more and more desperate. His cock is twitching fiercely inside you, aching for release, but you get there first.
Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, vision going hazy as pleasure overwhelms every one of your senses. The sticky sound of your slick coating your boyfriend’s cock, still hammering into you, echoes through the room, mixing with your pants and Dick’s growls.
“Hm? You finished already, baby?” Dick huffs out, smirk on his face. You try to form a response, but your body doesn’t listen, limbs jelly and eyes crossed with pleasure as his pace speeds up. “Fuck! Pussy looks so- ugh, so- damn good, creaming on my cock like that!”
And when Dick finally, finally finishes, your body is completely limp, battered and trembling with pleasure as his seed spills into your cunt, puffy and red and twitching with overstimulation.
“Uh- ungh- ah, f-fuck, Dick,” you slur out. He’s breathing hot and heavy behind you, cock throbbing inside your wet heat, before he pulls out.
You shudder at the sensation. Dick’s chest, warm and slightly damp with sweat, presses against your back.
“Ah- are you okay, babe? Sorry, I went a little- uh- psycho, there.” Dick gently nuzzles into your neck, kissing over the hickeys he’d left trailing down your skin. Carefully, he picks you up, turning you to face him as you snuggle into his broad body.
“Easy coming down from the high, love. Take your time,” Dick murmurs into your hair. “We’ll get you cleaned up in a little.” He coughs, looking away for a moment. “I- uh, I’m sorry again, babe…”
“Mm…” you mumble. “’S ok, Dick…felt so good.”
He lets out a small sigh of relief before chuckling. “You like it rough?” Stroking your hair, he quietly hums. “If you want me to be rough, no need to provoke me on purpose.”
You pout a little.
“But it’s more fun that way!”
He raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up into a crooked smile. “Oh really?” Dick pokes your cheek. “Maybe I should try making fun of you next time,” he muses.
“Mm, you can try, pretty boy.” You jab a finger into his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Dick’s chest rumbles with laughter. “Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” he teases.
“…nuh-uh.”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Nuh-uh.”
Dick smirks before he leans forward, lips grazing your ear. “Didn’t seem that way when I was fucking you stupid, babe. Had you moaning my name and creaming on my di-”
“You-!”
Smacking his chest with a huff, you turn away before he can see you blush. “You’re so stupid, Dick Grayson.”
Dick is a low key hoarder. He sees something shiny, he picks it up. It’s his inner bird nature. It’s really unexpected of him though. No one would see his struggles because he hid it so well. You go to his room? Spotless. His place in Bludhaven? Clean.
Where does he hoard it all?
One of Jason’s safe houses that Jason had forgotten about.
So when Jason was doing some ‘shady crime lord business’ and needed a place to hang low he suddenly thought of a place in the area that he was pretty sure he stopped paying the bills on. Either way he headed there.
Pleasantly, the code worked and he got in… half a foot past the door.
Junk, as far as the eye can see which wasn’t far. And it wasn’t just random things like bike parts or newspapers, no, it was their stuff. Dicks, Tim’s, Damian’s, Bruce’s, even his! Someone had been taking their things and had the gull to put it in his safe house!
Who in their right mind would do that? They obviously weren’t!
Grumbling, Jason began climbing over knee high mounds of objects. As he got into the living room he saw an organized pile forming a circle around a chair. It seemed to be pictures. Hundreds of them. And they were Tim’s old pictures he had just thrown out!
Was it their trash man?! Was the bastard stealing their trash? Was he selling it? Oh, was Jason going to give him the what for-
A foot met his gut sending him sideways into a stash of Damian ‘s old animal plushies. Jason groaned as he rose. The power of the kick, how it was done and where it landed added with the size of the small foot; he knew who it was right away.
“Dick!” He yelled.
“I am not a dick!”
Jason snapped around growling; saw his older brother in grey sweats with the band rolled half a dozen times and one of HIS old torn shirts. It even had a washed blood stain that wouldn’t come out.
“Dick!” He boomed.
Dick froze as he realized the intruder was not a thief but in fact his brother finally returning to his own place. His worse fear coming to fruition.
“Ahhh… no?”
“What,” Jason stumbled to his feet in angry frustration.
He signaled the pictures, stuffed animals, piles of clothes… his eyes landed on warped metal and snapped his head back to Dick.
“Is that my old bike?”
Dick glanced away, “no.”
“How’d you even get it up here?”
“I’m a Robin, Jason, if I couldn’t at least do that?Seriously?”
Well, true, but that wasn’t the point.
“What is all this junk? More importantly, why in my place?”
Dick twiddled his thumbs.
“I like to collect.”
“I can see that!” Jason agreed.
“Stop yelling at me!”
Jason rubbed his face in stress.
“Why my place?”
“Because no one would know.”
No one would know. Well. Jason knew now. He knew very much so because he’d just been kicked into a pile of musty stuffed animals that’d been deep into a trash can.
“Dick.”
Dick squeaked as he sensed it coming.
“No.”
“Dick.”
“You can’t!”
Jason folded his arms as Dick was desperately pleading.
“Anything but that! They won’t understand.”
“You have to get rid of everything. Now.”
Dick fell to his knees sobbing. Began to sweep up the pictures in a big hug which sort of made Jason feel a little guilty. Maybe they could keep this between them-
“No!” He wailed, “they won’t understand! They won’t get why I am throwing them away! The toys Jason! The poor toys!”
And he’s lost it. Probably seen Toy Story one too many times. Dick held a picture up of his brothers.
“My brothers. They won’t understand why I’m throwing them away. I really liked these ones a lot, so much cuter.”
Jason grit his teeth then. Yeah. He’s definitely throwing everything away.
——
“Wow,” Damian acknowledged as he watched Dick cling to Bruce, fighting him over tossing a trash bag into a bin, Tim trying to yank him back at his waist, “wouldn’t have guessed.”
Jason gave a nod. They watched Alfred come up and spray Dick with Lysol sending him running.
“You should probably go check all of your safe houses,” Jason muttered.
it was a quiet night in the titans tower, everyone was peacefully sleeping in their separate rooms while you and dick well had sex dreams, dick was imagining fucking you until you wear pregnant while you were imagining riding dick until you couldn't walk
you were both unknowingly grinding on each other, dick pressing his bulge into your ass while you rubbed your ass on his hardening cock, sooner or kater you both slowly came to "baby" he nudged you awake "yeah dick" you said with a little rasp in your voice which made dicks dick perk up even more
"i need you" he paws at the waistband of your sweatpants, and in no time both your clothes are off and your riding dick while he tries to keep you quiet "fuck fuck baby you feel so good" he groans slamming his cock into you, hitting all the best spots in you over and over
all that came out of your mouth was just muffled moans while he slammed his cock into you, luckily he put a pillow behind the headboard to keep it from making to much noise "you gotta stay quiet for me okay" he whispers kissing your cheek before throwing your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press
fucking you nice and deep while your muffled moans filled the room, he was fucking the thoughts right out of your head from how good it was "yeah you like it just like that right" he grunts pinning your hands above your head with just one of his hands, kissing all down your neck, leaving hickeys in each spot for you both to hide in the morning
just as he was fucking you you both heard a loud crack and the bed sink "oh fuck" both your eyes went wide in shock "we can worry about that in the morning" dick takes the gag out of your mouth to kiss you "im gonna cum" you moaned quietly, struggling to jeep your voice down when the dick was this good
"me too baby" he chuckles picking you up and flipping ypur positions around, with you now riding dick "oh i like this much better" you say immediately bouncing up and down on his cock still trying your best to keep your voice down so others wont hear you both fucking "fuck fuck fuck" dick throws his head back before filling you upw ith his cum
now it was your turn, planting your hands on his big chest and riding him harder until you came all over his abs "you're good" dick huffs "you're even better" you lean down to kiss him before he gave you a small smack to the ass
world’s okayest dad | divorced! reader x dick grayson ˚｡⋆ ୨୧
summary: coparenting with dick grayson after being divorced. warning for fem!reader and mentions of pregnancy!
the window opens with a noise way louder than dick had anticipated, making him cringe as the sound seemed even louder when contrasted with the fact that it was midnight and everything was deadly quiet.
“shh, baby’s sleeping” your voice crept from the hallway.
he turns his head to face you, the sorry expression that forms on dick’s face almost makes you melt. almost. this soft, guilty smile, like he’s trespassing in his own family. the lights were off, making the living room only visible due to the moonlight and gotham’s ever malfunctioning street lights that crept in through the window. you clearly weren’t expecting him, hair messy from bed, standing there in the most comfortable pajamas you could find — which means they’re old and look as worn as they are.
he is still in his nightwing suit, and that alone tells you that he had came straight to your apartment as soon as he arrived from the mission, and you don’t know if that warms or breaks your heart.
“sorry” he whispered, carefully stepping inside “i know it’s late, but i couldn’t come home without seeing them”
something in that line was incomplete, begging to be corrected, because he came to see you as well. he just didn’t know if that phrasing would initiate an argument, even if it was honest.
it’s been three months since you last saw him. since your child had seen him. if it were years before, you would have greeted him with a kiss that screamed how much you missed him, and held him like you’d personally get rid of all the tiredness in his body by clinging onto him. but those days were gone, over and faded along with your patience.
you honestly never thought the both of you would end up like this.
when you broke the news to him about the baby, five years ago, at first he was worried sick. It’s easy for you to remember that day, specially now, as vividly as if it happened a few hours ago.
it floods your mind from time to time, the way your nails dug into the palms of your hands as you tries to muster up the courage to talk, the look on his face of a man who was definitely overthinking but staying confident and reliable for you, the way he hugged you and kissed your temple while reassuring everything would be okay, the wetness of your tears streaming down your face as he wiped them gently.
being the oldest brother, dick grayson gathered some experience dealing with and taking care of children over the years. so did being a vigilante — having to figure out how to talk to kids, how to make them trust you and calm their worries when they’re scared. leaning how to properly hold a baby in a way that doesn’t wake them up, startle them or shake them too much as he tries to bring them to safety.
you know, normal experiences. so he was pretty confident in his skills as a caretaker — but as a dad? that was a whole different story. and it wasn't a matter of like of skills, confidence or love. but because he couldn't guarantee he'd be there.
you were used to the routine of his vigilante work, at least that’s what you convinced yourself at the time. but the truth was that the both of you were already going through a rough patch even before the baby came, and his life as nightwing was aways the in the center of everything.
aside from the obvious life-risking situations his job demanded he faced, which aways made you extremely anxious, he was almost never present. when it came to dinners, birthdays, anniversaries, he was aways either late or not showing up at all. you would get dressed up, candles lit, food ready… and then a text:
“sorry, raincheck. got caught up.”
except “caught up” meant chasing mobsters across gotham rooftops. the possibility of him not coming back alive haunted your brain like a ghost with an unfinished business.
feeling drained from staying up all night to welcome him home and get the chance to spend time with him was making you irritated in the morning and overly tired at your job. you ended up picking fights with him frequently, over the smallest things really — some days it seemed like every mundane little mistake he made managed to set you off. but it was never really about the forgotten groceries or something he didn’t clean properly. it was aways about him never being fully there.
you didn’t have anyone to talk to about it either, you couldn't just tell your friends, “sorry he missed brunch, he was interrogating a drug lord.” and you couldn’t exactly reveal his secret identity to your therapist, so you were stuck on spewing half-truths to cover for him. and you couldn't bring yourself to blame him either, dick tried so hard to be there for you, but being a vigilante was aways this all-consuming thing that devoured every last bit of his time with you.
and he aways apologized, of course he did, and he aways meant it. he would send you texts and voicemails during the time he was away, some of them were this long elaborate ones where he would just ramble about his day, and how he wished you were there (but not really cause he was in the middle of a battlefield), other were these quick and rushed i love you's and i miss you's that aways managed to leave your heart aching.
but when he managed to be home? god, it was heaven on earth.
he was aways the type to overcompensate, so the moment gotham wasn’t trying to eat him alive, it was like he had clued himself to your side, showering you in all the affection he wished he could have given you on the days he was away. attempting to cook for you, kissing you until you were out of breath, fixing things around your shared apartment. you swear that, if you close your eyes, you can still feel his hand on your waist and his lips on the crook of your neck as he whispered “god, i’m so lucky you put up with me.”
so you convinced yourself you could take it, you could adapt to him and his lifestyle. but your relationship had cracked and was starting to leak frustration at the sides, and the worst part was admitting your marriage had failed, not from lack of love or respect, not from some grand fight or some kind of big betrayal, but from absence.
he started missing big milestones. sure, he was there for some of them, you didn’t expect him to be there all the time, so you prepared yourself to spend some big moments alone and hopefully be able to register it on video so you could send it to him later.
when he was around, he was the best father any kid could ask for, he was so attentive and patient. he made sure you actually rested. the kind of dad that made forts in the living room, made every playtime seem magical and teached lessons in a way that would leave your kid’s eyes sparkling in awe.
it was aways like he was trying to squeeze every quality moment he could into the short time he had with the both of you. because he knew he was missed, he knew that it was slowly getting to you.
he couldn’t help you when the baby would eventually wake up crying in the middle of the night, cause he’d be on patrol. your kid’s first “dada” your kid’s first “dada” comes while he’s in a stakeout. and specially the more mundane day-to-day aspects of taking care of your kid, you wanted him there but he just couldn’t be present like he wanted to.
and that was eating him alive.
eventually, what he feared the most actually happened, you left him, and worst of all, he didn’t put up a fight. you deserved better than waiting around for someone that you don’t even know if they’re gonna come back or not.
you both never got officially filed-for-paperwork divorced, so technically you were just separated. your last name was still grayson, and there was still a pale circular mark on your ring finger where your wedding ring used to sit.
and he’s standing here in front of you, now standing in the kid’s bedroom watching them sleep peacefully, gloved hand brushing the child’s hair off their face, a tired grin across his face. and you don’t know if you should shake him or grab him by the shoulders and kiss him senseless.
pairing: dick grayson x florist! fem! reader (sex pollen)
word count: 4.1k
summary: a handsome stranger has captured your heart and affections, so its only natural you call for him when a mysterious plant sprays you in your flower shop, and you start to feel... rather funny.
warnings: SMUT, sex pollen used, riding dick grayson on the floor (hell yeah), heavy praise kink, lots of petnames, grinding/ dry humping, man handling, fluff and yearning, making out, swearing, slight masturbation
“ baby, don't you know? that you're my golden hour, the color of my sky/ you set my world on fire, and i know, i know everything's gonna be alright”- golden hour, kacey musgraves
The birds chirping in the morning was so peaceful it reminded you of heaven on earth.
Or at least- your version of it.
It reminded you of the soft countryside you called home, before you moved to the big scary city of Gotham. All you needed now was the soft hum of the lawnmowers from the neighbours, or the soft patter of rain that was an open invitation for you to go out in your bare feet, letting the morning dew tickle your toes as you searched for frogs in nothing but your nightgown.
But sadly, home was far away now- and so was the country.
It was a burning dream of yours to go back, to build or find a little cottage where you could grow all the flowers you wanted, having a little garden, filled with sweet delights like berries you could make into jam for your homemade sourdough.
With whoever tended to your dreams with you.
It was what you were working for. And if you found someone along the way, you supposed it would make the cloudy days a bit more comforting.
For now, the closest you could get was your little job at the local florist shop.
It brought you joy, especially on sunny days like today, where business was booming and you could meet lovely people of all ages. Either trying to get some tulip bulbs they could plant in their yard in the fall, or if they needed a bouquet for their loved ones.
The thought of your regular, a sweet older woman named Barbra made you smile at the idea she’d come in, grumbling as usual about the traffic or whatever it may be, just to burst into a smile as soon as she saw you tie a new bouquet together with pink ribbon.
You always snuck her a little flower, typically a baby's breath for her under the counter, to add to her collection of random florals.
You stretched, letting the rarity of sunlight in Gotham trickle through your window and onto your face, savouring the warmth of the summer months. Although you noticed it was a lot more sunny than you were told it would be, since moving here.
An odd fluke, you supposed.
Taking your time, as you always woke up early enough to savour the light of the day as if you were Snow White herself, you made your bed, sheets smelling of the lavender spray from the florals you’d collected yourself.
Next was the tea of course, herbals often woke you up. Letting the soft lace of your nightgown brush your thighs, you headed towards the kitchen towards the kettle, the fresh batch of scones you made the other night your next destination.
As you waited for the water to boil, you couldn't help but lean back against the counter, a soft smile on your face as you observed your indoor plants.
It wasn't the end goal, but it was a beautiful pit-stop along the way. And that, you could be happy with.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Barbra’s presence could be felt before it could be heard.
You peered up at her little frame, slightly hunched over, but in working condition, nonetheless. You called her a well oiled machine. She called herself a grouchy piece of shit.
But today, something was different.
Was that… a smile on her face? Before she had come inside to greet you?
Odd.
You peered out the window, trying not to seem too obvious as you glanced outside, and saw her talking to… a man?
A beautiful man, at that. Tall, at least a foot or so taller than you, his muscles practically bulging out of his little Black Canary Tour shirt.
You could tie a pretty pink ribbon around them just for it to snap the second he did so much as move his bicep.
But what really captivated you was the baby blues that gleamed at Barbra. The way his smile seemed to twinkle in the sun, real and genuine as he laughed. He was so animated, hands moving as he talked, before his fingers pointed to you.
You froze.
Quickly scurrying away, out of sight to make yourself busy, and to tend to your racing heart.
Soon, a little jingle of the shop bell rang out, and you poked your head out from the daisies, preparing for the worst.
“You’re smiling? Who are you, and what did you do with Barbra?” you teased, making her laugh.
“You got yourself a suitor out there eh? A handsome one at that.” Barbra smiled, wacking your arm gently with her newspaper. Your eyes widened.
“Suitor?”
“Yeah dolly he’s right into ya. I was about to go harass him, as he was staring at you a little too much for my liking, like some black cat on a windowsill. Spooked the damn boy, was about to give him hell until I saw the look in his eye.”
You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What look in his eye?”
“Love.”
You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Love. Right.”
“You know better than to question me girl. I know best. I’ve lived a lot more lives than you, and I know what love looks like. That man is head over heels.”
Something like warmth bloomed in your chest at her words, and you couldn't help but hope it was true. He was so handsome, and if he could manage to make Barbra laugh, there must have been something about him that was special.
“I’m sure. In love with a nobody flower shop girl who clips flower stems in her free time.”
“The most beautiful girl in the city, who happens to clip flower stems in her free time. Now, shut up and give me some sunflowers dear. I’m on my way to bridge practice and I need to get these to my sister.”
You nodded, collecting her flowers and ignoring her payment.
“Well, get on then you grouch.”
She laughed, slipping you a twenty despite your protests, and was out the door before you could process the sneaky bill slip she performed and give it back to her.
For an older woman, she was fast.
The bell rang again, and you expected her to toss another comment about getting your head out of your ass, but you were royally surprised when the handsome stranger was there instead.
Sun shown from the back of his head, illuminating him like he was an angel, halo burning brightly. You urged yourself to not let his beauty consume you.
“Do you always just watch girls from outside their work, or is this special treatment?” you asked, leaning against the counter.
He smiled. “Only you. Isn't that so cheesy?”
“Or creepy, depending on how you look at it. But Barbra likes you. So I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you for your vigilante activities.”
His hand went to his heart, bowing his head almost in solitude.
“She really knows how to scare a man.”
“I heard one time she twisted a man's balls so hard he had to go to the hospital, because he thought they were going to fall off.”
You laughed at his shocked reaction, turning into an easy grin as he walked towards you, towering over you from behind the counter.
“Now, are you here to buy anything? Or just flirt with me?” you asked boldly.
“Both. Is that okay?”
You felt heat rise to your cheeks and you looked away quickly, shrugging.
“Suppose.”
“Y/N…” he read your delicate nametag, the writing in your own penmanship, swirly, girly font with a little blooming tulip next to it.
“Forgive me if this question sounds odd but… what's a pretty thing like you doing in Gotham? You’re the human form of the sun. You shine so brightly here it's almost blinding.”
You froze at his words, trying to not let them know how much they impact you.
You’re the human form of the sun.
No one, no man- had ever said anything so kind to you. So near and dear to your heart. It nearly caught you off guard. All you could do was smile at him softly, batting your lashes at him as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting your bracelets jangle.
“I’m here to shine.” was all you said as you shrugged, turning your back to him to gather flowers that matched his energy.
You didn't even know what he was in here for. You were too flustered to ask.
Instead, you felt his eyes following your figure as you selected the blossoms, reaching up on your tiptoes to select some that were out of reach.
Soft blues and whites- blue stars, baby's breath, and columbines. You sprinkled in some soft yellows, buttercups and primroses. Tying it all together with a soft, pale baby blue ribbon, humming to yourself softly.
“For…?” you asked, pen hovering just above the little card.
“Dick. Dick Grayson.” You nodded, writing his name, and feeling even so bold as to even scratch your number just under it. Maybe your countryside future could be closer than you thought.
And by the look on his face as he saw your number on that very same tea stained card, he must have thought the same.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
You had fallen.
Hard.
And god, could anyone blame you?
God himself couldn't blame you, for all the time Richard Grayson had swirled through your mind, clouding your thoughts until they were sprinkles of pollen.
He was sweet, like the lemonade you made for him when he first came over to visit your place.
He had a green thumb. He liked mint chocolate chip ice cream, which you would never give him the satisfaction of knowing, but you liked it too. He was polite, always holding the door for you, a soft palm on your back as he’d lead you inside, always closing his eyes whenever you changed in front of him, claiming it wasn't gentleman like to watch a woman change (though you caught his fingers peel from his eyes a few times).
He was an animal lover. He was nurturing, and wanting nothing more than to provide for you.
And he always listened. About anything, really- but especially when you talked about your future.
With him in it.
It made his heart swell up so large he feared it would break his ribcage, at the mention of your garden, and your chickens, dogs, ducks, cats- the homemade meals and soft cuddles by the stone fireplace.
All involving him.
Of course you included his interests- referring to the dogs as his dogs, mentioning his favourite dishes, and his brothers coming to visit whenever they wanted. Talks on your couch turned into sweet kisses, gentle touches and addicting tastes of mint, coffee and the musk of cinnamon.
It was all you had wanted, and if God, or anyone judged you for the temptations of Eve’s apple, it was something you’d collect seeds from and grow yourself.
An apple tree of temptation, the branches of Dicks embrace wrapping you tightly.
Barbra noticed it too, the effect he had on you. How somehow- someway, she had stated, you seemed even more bright.
Butterflies had practically found their way to you, fluttering on the flowers outside the store, resting on your fingers as you sent them off to the sun. Birds chirped even louder, the faint smell of honey and cinnamon a constant warm embrace around you as you left Dicks arms in the morning, spreading your wings to go off on your own, to tend to the store.
It was an unusual day today though, you noted.
It was cloudier than it had been lately, though that was Gotham. Light sprinkles of rain pattered off your umbrella as you walked to the floral shop, and despite the rain, you still found it in your heart to smile at anyone who passed by.
It was quiet today, and you had expected just as much. Tonight would be equally as quiet, as Dick had plans with his brother, Jason. You urged him to go off and do his own thing, as even sometimes you needed your own space.
Tonight would be filled with fluffy blankets, buttery popcorn, some mint chip ice cream, and superhero movies. A perfect night, in your opinion. Perhaps a beeswax candle could be lit- a reminder of Dicks sweet smell that stained the pillows.
Your thoughts of the Friday night ahead were whisked away as a customer stepped inside, shaking the rain from her bright red hair.
She smiled, waving slightly as she adjusted her very large purse, starting to browse around. You smiled back, turning your back to resume your task, letting her browse in peace. You never liked to hound anyone, knowing how annoying it could be as a customer yourself, when pesky store owners nagged at you, or pressured you to buy something you were having doubts on.
Plus, if she had questions, she’d ask.
You were approachable enough. Or at least you hoped you were.
By the time you turned around again, she was out of sight. Nothing left of her but the gentle chime of the door bell as her heels clicked against the pavement.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
As you were doing your rounds before closing, something had you stop in your tracks.
A plant.
Of course, a plant was not out of place in a florist shop, but this particular one, captured your attention. It was foreign to you, which was unusual, considering you had spent countless years pouring over plant textbooks, and gathering as much hands-on experience in the garden that you could muster.
But this… this was not something you had ordered in.
Then how the hell had it gotten here?
You picked up the pot, observing the unusual markings on the petals. It was beautiful, the flowers almost mimicking those of a lilly. But you knew deep down, it wasn't.
As you picked up the pot, you were blinded.
You gasped, inhaling pollen as it sprayed at you, almost like a mist of freckles that splattered on your cheeks, getting in your nose, your mouth, clouding your vision.
You coughed, setting the plant down where it had rested, waving the air as your vision blurred, tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. Making your way over to the counter, you started to sneeze and cough, feeling as if the vapors were choking you.
At least you could see now, scrambling off your apron and tossing it somewhere- unknown to you.
You’d deal with it tomorrow. For now, you needed fresh air, and a clear head. Whatever had sprayed you, it was having an effect- fast.
Your body felt tense. Like it had been strung up on a live wire. Heat curled in your gut, strong and fast- like a current that threatened to drag you under its vicious waves.
Sweat dotted at your forehead, your fingers curling into fists. It was so hot you fought the urge not to strip naked and lay on the cool wooden floor.
But no, god no- you needed to get home. To lay down, get some rest, and let this do its thing.
But your head was clouded. Foggy.
All you knew was that you felt hot, bothered and needy.
You wanted Dick. But Dick was with his brother and he needed time to himself, and to enjoy his family… and yet you dialed his number anyways.
He would know what to do. He could help you, could touch you, could take away this pain, this need- this want that consumed you whole- like Goya's Satan consuming your very flesh.
It took two quick rings before his gentle voice answered, quickly turning to concern as you moaned.
“Sweetheart? What's going on?”
“Some plant. I found some plant when I was closing, I don't know what the hell it is but it sprayed me and now I can’t- I can't think- God its so hot-” you panted, slouching against the counter, grounding yourself onto the floor as you let your head lull back.
“Fuck. Fuck sweetheart, where are you now? I’m coming right now.”
“N-no s’okay stay with Jason. I just didn't know if you knew-” you hiccuped, groaning again as you felt your clothes start to stick to your body.
“If you knew what it was. Maybe I can sleep it off.”
You heard a low voice in the background, catching some of the words the man, presumably Jason, mumbled. “Its Ivy. That sex pollen shit we saw a while ago, but fuck Bruce hasnt found a cure yet.”
“Sweetheart, did anyone new come into the shop today that looked unfamiliar?”
You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you. The drug was making you hazy.
“Some redhead came in with a large purse. But I didn't think anything of it. She was gone before I could offer her help.”
You heard cursing on the other line, before Dick begged for you to stay conscious. “I’m gonna be right there sweetheart, you just stay put okay? Shut the blinds, lock the door and if it's me, I’ll knock three times.”
You tossed your phone as he hung up, tugging at your top. You had turned the air on, yet it felt so stuffy and hot you felt like you might puke.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck I need-” you gasped, letting your hands cup your breasts, toying at your hardened nipples through the lacy floral bra fabric, feeling heavy and aching. You started to unbutton your pants, shimmying them off your body, sweat sticking to them.
Trapped in your own head, you let your fingers trace your body, but it wasn't enough.
Whatever had sprayed you, it wanted more. It wanted him.
And almost as if it was some divine intervention, the plant weaving its vines around Dick Grayson to tug him to the front door, you heard three quick wraps on a knuckle on the door.
“Sweetheart? It's me honey, can you let me in please? I’m gonna make you feel better okay?”
You groaned, starting to crawl to the front door, reaching up to unlock the door for your savour. And fuck, the sight before him made him hard.
It felt wrong, and dirty to feel so turned on at the sight of you- but he couldn't help it.
There you were, on your knees, looking up at him with so much need in your eyes, lips quivering as sweat trickled down your neck. The pollen stained your cheeks like golden freckles, like constellations in the sky that sang to him.
“Oh my poor, sweet girl.” he cooed, locking the door behind him as he crouched down, cupping your cheek with his palm, stroking little circles gently with his thumb.
“M’gonna make you feel better little dove, okay? You just tell me what you need from me. But we gotta, we gotta get this out of your system.”
You nodded, wincing slightly, not from pain- but from overstimulation as his hand trickled down to stroke your bare collarbones, eyes darting to your pretty pink floral set that sent his mind reeling.
“H-how do we fix this Dickie?” you whimpered, his heart nearly crackling into pieces at how sweet his nickname sounded from your cherry blossom lips.
“Well it's a sex pollen honey so I think- well we have to…”
“Have sex?” you asked and he nodded.
“That would make me feel better. All I can think of and feel is this fuzzy, burning need. It hurts.”
He cooed, letting his hand rest just above your throbbing core. “Right here honey? Is this where it hurts?”
You nodded frantically, guiding his hand down to your soaked panties, juices already coating his fingers from the simple brush of his fingers.
He groaned, the sound making you whimper in delight.
“And right here. M’so sorry Dickie-”
“No, no you don't get to apologise for this honey. You take what you need from me, okay? I’m gonna help you feel all better again, get that fuzziness out of your head.”
Your hands slipped up to tangle in his hair, tugging at the soft, dark raven locks hungrily as your lips found his. He melted into your touch, and you couldn't help but savour the feeling of dominance you had over him.
Even if it was an illusion.
You felt so hungry you couldn't help but straddle him, letting your hands roam over his body, touching anywhere you could reach. It was as if he had been sprayed as well, with the way he was touching you back.
Manhandling you up into his lap, gripping your ass as you began to grind on the fly of his jeans, letting the cool flicker of the zipper soothe your ache as you dampened the fabric.
Guiding you with his hands, urging you to do whatever you wanted to him. As if he was in this as much as you were.
Your equal.
“Need- need you now please.” you practically whined, tugging his shirt over his head, his warm chest now flush with yours, his fingers toying with the back of your bra strap. You gasped as it fell, sliding down your arms, his fingers wrapping around the nipple and tugging on it harshly.
The pain was delicious. You needed more.
“Take what you need sweetheart. My sweet flower.”
You wasted no time tugging his pants off, throwing them haphazardly on the floor with your undergarments, hands guiding him down to the floor.
“You’re so good to me.” you whispered, head bowing as he ran his cock through your soaked folds, before slowly guiding himself in.
Your eyes widened, as if sparks had gone off and illuminated throughout your body.
This. This was what you needed.
All of this, the feeling of him stretching you, guiding you in with such compassion and tender praises, cooing at your little expressions and sounds as he filled you to the brim.
It was as if the pain had stopped, just briefly. Dick Grayson was your cure.
“Big stretch I know baby. I’m sorry, I didn't have time to prep you m’just worried… oh-” he was cut off by your sudden movements, riding him like your life depended on it.
Which it did. You didn't have time to waste. And it was like this thing- this pollen had taken hold of your body, and you were a puppet on its strings.
Gripping his chest, your nails dug and scratched him as you tossed your head back, letting him admire you as much as he wanted. The way your lips hung open as your sweet little moans trailed from them, your forehead scrunched in concentration, letting the waves of the pleasure consume you.
Your eyes, closed, lashes fluttering your cheeks, crying out his name.
The sight alone almost had Dick Grayson come undone. But he had to hold off for you, had to help you first. That was always his rule.
“There you go sweetheart, doing so good for me. Feels so fuckin good oh my god- ridin me like that..” he cooed, hands firm on your hips as he thrusted up, meeting you half way.
Until he couldn't control himself, picking a rhythm that you mindlessly followed, body going limp as he pounded into you- taking control. Knowing that was what you needed.
You didn't even need to tell him where you were, he knew, could feel you squeezing him.
“Let go for me honey. Good girl..” he cooed softly, holding you close to his chest as you came down from your high, legs quivering as you clung to him like a teddy bear.
“Is it over?” You asked softly, your head on his steady heartbeat as he stroked your hair. He shook his head.
“I’m not sure honey. You might need a few more rounds, but I promise, you’ll be okay. Its almost out of your system.”
You nodded, feeling the surge of pleasure lap at your insides, letting it consume you wholly again.
“I’m so sorry Dickie.”
He stopped you, silencing you with a kiss. “Stop apologizing, my sweet girl. We’re gonna get through this. We’re in the home stretch, and I’ve got you. I’m here. Gonna make it all better.”
And deep down, you knew that was the truth.
It had taken a few more rounds for your fiery insides to burn down to little embers, loud moans turning to soft whimpers and hiccups. And he was there with you for all of it, on the floor, against the wall, up on the counter.
And each way he handled you, made you feel like a delicate little petal, despite your actions being anything but.
Holding you in his arms when the flush from your body subsided, and your skin had cooled to a normal temperature, when sleep consumed your body as you lay curled in his lap, his shirt acting as a blanket that you breathed in deeply.
His cum trickling down your thighs, that he had cleaned up before slipping you back into your clothes, and carrying you back to your apartment.
And you knew then, that he’d never leave you. Not now, and not ever.
