#dilf!dick grayson

[clarkskink]

YES, OF COURSE I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!!

𐙚⋆.˚ dilf!dick grayson x milf!reader

⌞ lexy's notes: after that comic panel came out, i just HAD to write for him. i wanna eat him so bad ⌝

cw: lovey dovey dick, a little bit of jealousy, he’s obsessed with you and how good you look as a mom lol, he’s a little nasty in the bedroom but what’s new, dick with salt and pepper hair YUMMMM

dilf!dick grayson that has made it his life's goal to have you and his kids with a constant smile on your faces. he knows that as the years have gone on, he's not as flexible or suave as he used to be. he has to be extra careful when on patrols. he's not just living for himself anymore, he has a wife to come home to and two kids that need their dad back safely at the end of the day. and the excited squeals leaving the toddlers paired with the relieved smile on your lips is enough motivation to keep him going through the particularly hard missions.

dilf!dick grayson that knew you were the one from the beginning. seeing how well you were with his family and how in tune you were with each other was the cherry on top. he's been late to dates due to vigilante problems, has come to your house in the middle of the night in need of patching up, has even called you at the early hours of the day just to rant about a bad argument he got into with bruce. you've truly seen him at his ups and downs and still manage to look at him as if he’s the only man to ever exist.

throughout your relationship he’s had to deal with girls hitting on him and men trying their chances with you. you’ve been nothing but loyal to him and he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about. but after having your two troublesome kids, it’s as if everyone has their eyes on you. college boys at the local bar drunkenly talking about how hot that milf in the corner is. dilf!dick grayson has to physically hold himself back after one in particular starts being extra vulgar. comments of “i bet she knows how to use her mouth perfectly” and “would love to play daddy for her kids if that meant i got to see those tits everyday”. he hasn’t felt his skin crawl this much in years and you can definitely see the wheels turning in his head after you tried to calm his nerves with a “c’mon, honey. just ignore them”. and he really was going to leave it alone until he could tell the guy's friends were encouraging him to come over. so dick does what he always does best. show off. he's gripping your hips with his large hands, one of them wandering down to the fat of your ass where he squeezes and swallows your small gasp with his mouth. he kisses with his whole body, and if this frat guy wasn't able to tell that he's the only "daddy" your kids need, than the hungry look in his eyes as he ravishes your mouth is enough to show him.

dilf!dick grayson that sometimes finds himself wondering what your lives would look like with another pair of feet running around. he knows it's only been a few years since your last pregnancy, but seeing the way you fit into the motherly role for your kids is enough to leave him throbbing in his pants. from the soothing voice you talk to them with in the early hours of the morning, and the stern scoldings you give when they refuse to listen. he can't lie, he's come clean to you more than once but seeing you in your element makes him wish he was the one you were yelling at instead.

and it's not like this is a one sided ordeal. seeing his lean body fill out throughout the years, his young face slowly turning softer, especially around the eyes. it's hard to not fall more and more for your husband as the time passes. time where he used to be embarrassed of the gray hair, now changed after he saw how utterly obsessed you've become with it. after a new shape up, whether he did it himself or he went to the barbershop, your hands are constantly on him. nails running up and down the undercut, the low lidded look you give him the minute the kids are put down for bed. it's hard for him to feel weary about his age when its so obvious the girl of his dreams is obsessed with it. there's some nights dilf!dick grayson has to physically tap out after the multiple orgasms you've brought him to. he's normally able to keep up, but these past few weeks you've been untamable with the way you jump his bones every two seconds. moans of "wanna carry y'r kids again" and "need you to cum inside, baby" are constantly filling the lustful atmosphere.

but there's one night in particular that dilf!dick grayson is actively matching your neediness. he's got you in such a nasty arch, he's hitting spots you didn't even know existed. you're so sensitive that the only thing stopping the noises from leaving your mouth are some of his thick fingers. pressing down onto your tongue, the gags that leave your mouth is enough to make him thrust even deeper. and when you manage to escape his fingers, your pleas go unheard and the only thing running through his mind is the look on your face when your close friend announced her pregnancy at a recent gathering. you were of course happy for her, but you couldn't help the small burst of jealousy after you've been asking dick for another baby. and you thought you were able to hide your emotions, but your sweet husband was always able to see through the fake smile you put on.

dilf!dick grayson that makes it his mission that night to give you what you really want. and he's making sure each load takes. he's got the pillow supporting your arch everytime your knees grow weak or you run from his thrust in overstimulation. his thumb rubbing your clit in the perfect rhythm. you're both sticky from the sweat and heat of each others bodies. the only thing your clouded mind can really comprehend is the kiss he leaves on your open mouth every few pushes. when you tap out for a quick break, he's pampering you with water, rubbing his rough hands up and down your back, even feeding you the praise you oh so crave. "you're doing so good, sweetheart", "bet you can't wait to be a mommy again, huh?" and if you don't end up with a positive test sometime within the next three weeks, he'll just have to try again and again until you both are satisfied.

copyright © 2025 clarkskink. all rights reserved.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

OLD FRIEND???

Knightfight!Dick Grayson x Older catwoman!reader

Bio: "I need you" "I know" "Do you?"

“Still stealing, I see,” Dick chuckled as the blue Batman emblem glowed, casting a soft shimmer across your face. His hands came up to cup your cheek, making you look right at him.

“Batman smirking—how unbecoming,” you teased, slowly dropping the jewelry onto the bank’s rooftop and lifting your arms in surrender.

“You’re getting sloppy now, pretty kitty. Leaving a trail for me, haven’t you?” he scolded, though his tone was gentle one of those soft warnings that always made your heart flutter. That voice had a way of making you swoon, leaving you doing more bad than good just to hear it again.

“Sloppy? Me?” You sucked your teeth at him. Sure, you could get a bit messy, but sloppy? Tsk. He should know better by now. You’d show him sloppy if he really needed an example.

“Sloppy is leaving a trail of jewels and diamonds all the way back to my apartment. This all was to—” You were about to glance at the pile of loot on the roof when he stopped you, making your eyes focus on him and only him.

“Get my attention,” he said, finishing your sentence without hesitation.

“If I said yes, would you be mad?” you chuckled, fingers tracing the curve of that big blue bat symbol.

He pretended to think, rubbing the faint stubble on his chin. You gasped, slapping his shoulder and pushing off him, acting like the stubborn cat he’d loved for years.

“Hey, hey, I’m just playing,” he said, pulling you right back in by the tail, making you squeak and silently pray he didn’t notice. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his torso pressing against yours as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling deep until he started to sniff you.

If you were younger, you’d have called him a freak and pushed him away (even though you wanted more). But now, older and wiser, you knew playing shy wouldn’t get you far.

“I really wanted to see you, but I couldn’t stand stepping into that damn office like some client of yours,” you murmured, guiding his face up your neck until he looked at you. Even now, after all these years, that puppy-dog look never got old. Your heart practically melted.

“You could’ve called. I would’ve kicked everyone out that day… My doors are always open for you even the windows,” he whispered the last part right into your ear.

You should’ve known better than to melt from his pretty-boy words, but God, he still had far too much power over you.

“There are many ways to get my attention,” he muttered. “Like this.”

He kissed your hand, then made his way up your arm.

“And this.”

He reached the side of your neck, making you squirm, then went higher to your cheek.

“And lastly, this.”

He didn’t kiss your lips but brushed over them with the padding of his glove.

“Or I could’ve just stolen from you?” you teased.

He scoffed, then chuckled. “Yeah, that too, Kitcat.”

He stared at you for a moment before leaning in for a kiss. You turned your head away.

“Nope!” you said, trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl but he always had a way of making you feel like one.

“Cowl first.”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes beneath the mask, but you didn’t care. Whether you knew his secret identity or he knew yours, it didn’t matter. The streets were dead quiet, and all you wanted was a kiss something he could give as easily as breathing.

“Really, Kitty?”

You nodded. He hesitated only for a second before removing the cowl, revealing those piercing blue eyes staring right at you.

“Yeesh, put those peepers away,” you laughed, bursting into giggles.

“I’m so sick of you,” Dick grumbled, but there was no real bite to it.

He reached up and pulled off your mask, revealing your black pixie cut ruffled and wild, but you couldn’t care less. You were too busy laughing at his expression.

Then he kissed those pretty lips pressing against yours, stealing your breath and blanking out your mind completely.

[maskeddevotion]

Butterflies

A work in progress: a shorter form Dilf!Grayson novella with an age gap ship grounded in anguish and heightened by bittersweet yearning. Hoping to have the first chapter written over the next week or so, but recovering from illness and staring down a heatwave here. Fingers crossed!

When does the cycle of pain end?

Everyone knows, of course, that it begins in childhood.

It begins at your mother's bedside, weeping for a soul that won't return.

It threads through memories of school, pigtails pulled, kisses stolen in secret.

There on the rooftops, overlooking the darkness, you saw it raw and flat, painted in blood-red tones and pale white skin. The shattered remains of a friendship with the girl you wish you'd known better. Wish you'd been able to save. A life ruined in fragments of bone and hollowed out souls.

Pain seeps into you, day by day, until you feel life and death grip you tight, strung between them like a puppet.

And you say, no more. I am nobody's pawn. I am the master of my fate. I am the bird who flies free.

Life and death step back, and beneath a star strewn sky, give you their blessings.

You were eighteen when you first developed your powers. A night of pain turned to glory, revelation and salvation. You flew on those wings, right into the life of the Robins.

A formidable force for good, you wielded your healing power amongst their ranks, training beneath the one true Batman: Dick Grayson.

Until one night, a tired voice, cracked and worn, weighed by time and burdened with guilt, calls you on a private channel.

“I'm… sorry... I've failed you...”

The steady mist of rain doesn't so much fall as permeate the air, softening footsteps upon roofs, carrying the stench of alleyway excrement and a chill that runs deeper than skin. Gotham's impolite like that, a messy creature hobbling along the boundary line between unhygienic tease and insalubrious lech. Right now, it's tipping into its more monstrous form. Jagged highrises are cast in sharp neon light, but shadows and blood are painted into the cracks of its foundations. The city remembers, even if its vigilantes are younger, keener, sharper, fresher.

Your heart is racing beneath the gaudy, vintage suit. Stark greens, reds and yellows belong to a past better forgotten, but somehow have come to be drawn along combative lines, an homage to the heroic shadows that came before you. Your form is sleek, compressed for battle, draped in the preparations of a war you've joined only in recent years. Robin 64. It's been your name for three years, now- a gift from the one true Batman. The only Batman who matters.

"I'm… sorry…" His voice cracks across the comm link, catching you in the dark, holding you still even as your heart pounds at a million miles a minute.

Dick Grayson.

Apologising to you. The world is wrong. You know this, you can feel it in the echo of static, a tremulous thread you hardly dare to breathe for, lest you break it. "Don't... don't ping my bracer." It's instinctive. Your fingers drift, rain speckling the bright blue display as you hover, as you consider your options. "Run. They're searching... searching for you... Take shelter... get to the Bat Tower..." "Not without you. Where are you? Tell me, Di-" The weak, rattling cough cuts through your little act of rebellion. "It's still Batman to you..." He manages, and you catch yourself before you can growl a retort. You could ping his bracer. Track his last known location. You could go to him, you could be useful, just as you wanted. Just as it should be. "Robin, go home. Bring the Titans..." You could be his Robin. You have the training, the powers... you have the fortitude to fight back, and a gift to share with the world. To give to him. "I'm coming to find you." You murmur over the line. The silence is more damning than any of his gentle scolding or his mild-mannered disappointment. It sticks in your chest, settling between your ribs, making you sick with worry. There's no time to waste. Batman needs you.