Note: I don’t care what people say, it is perfectly acceptable to wear socks in bed… especially when your SO is also prone to ice feet. *sticks out tongue* Anywho… trying a new fic rotation schedule. Are Tuesdays okay, with the series and requests still coming out on Friday? Having three (or more) coming out on the same day is a bit much. Let me know of any feedback you’ve got. Tag lists, requests, and general comments are always open. Enjoy!
You were cold. You didn’t like being cold. Especially on a rare sleep-in morning. So you grabbed the winter sheet with both hands and tugged it with all your might. A minute or so later, it was tugged away.
“Seriously,” you hissed. You turned, ready to steal the sheets back even at the cost of waking him up but stopped short. With a sigh, you settled back into the pillows and observed him.
Halloween had been pretty hectic this year. Multiple rogues, and several working together to cause the most chaos they could. Dick’s under-eyes were darker than usual. And now that you’d thought about it, he’d only come in a few hours ago. For all the crazy nights and late hours, his face looked the most peaceful when he was asleep. You’d had an easier time of it as dispatch. And as such, technically needed more sleep instead of a morning fight.
So, you snuggled closer to him and went back to sleep.
***
Sleep-in mornings also meant an 80% chance of waking up horny.
In only a few hours of extra sleep, your feelings for Dick had flipped 180 degrees. But you still didn’t want to wake him.
He groaned in his sleep and the edges of his mouth twitched. The way his eyes were moving behind his lids, he must have been having a good dream.
Oh. Maybe you could… no. He needed to sleep. Needed more than just a few hours of it. But you know how to do it without waking him up. He really likes it. Yeah, and then he wakes up and- And ravages you. Ravaging is not resting. No. But- No.
You huffed, falling back into the pillows. Dick hummed in his sleep, thrusting his hips.
Fine.
Doing your best not to shift the sheets too much, you flipped so that your bottom half was outside, and your head was under. It didn’t matter that you were in sweats and socks, your legs were chilled. If this worked, you would be warm soon enough too. Dick was wearing similar attire, but the sweats were old and the elastic was long gone. Meaning that you could untie the string holding them tight around his body and easily get to his cock.
Already your mouth was watering. And he wasn’t fully hard yet.
Dick gasped in his sleep as you began to slowly pump his length. It swelled and warmed in your hand. You twirled your thumb around the top, smiling as you were rewarded with a bead of precum. His hips gave another jolt, pumping himself in your hand. He whimpered as you sloppily kissed up and down his cock.
“Y/N,” he moaned.
You froze, minimizing your hand movements until you were sure he was still asleep. Then you took the head into your mouth, humming at the taste. Taking him further, you gripped his base. With your other hand, you found that small spot behind his balls and made him gasp louder than before. His hands clawed at the sheets. You like to call it his only weakness. He called it ‘cheating.’ Never stopped you from using though, and you kept pulsing pressure on it while taking him further.
A flush had crept into your skin. And you were pressing your thighs together. If he were awake, Dick would make some comment about how you liked sucking him off more than he did.
“Y/N.”
Oops.
The sheets were pulled away and you stifled a grin as Dick visibly had to take a moment having seen you with your lips around his cock. “Good morning,” you hummed, devilishly licking him from balls to tip.
“’Mornin’,” he breathed. His throat constricted as you went back to work. “Not that I’m complaining, but…” he choked back a moan as you swallowed him down. “Y/N, not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”
“Wanted to make you feel good and rested. Needed you.”
He gave an airy laugh. “And this helping me rest?” Before you could make him cum, he pulled you away from his cock. “Am I allowed a request?”
You smiled softly. “Of course, baby. What do you want?”
A second later, he was tugging your sweatpants off. His were tossed to the floor too. Then you were sitting on his abdomen while his hands slid up under your sleep shirt to your breasts. You rocked back and forth across his stomach. Each time his length trapped between your bodies twitched, you shivered, making Dick all the more eager in his pinching of your nipples. Your shirt joined the pile.
Dick guided you to finally sink down on him. Both of you gave a series of stuttered sighs until there wasn’t any more space between your thighs and his hips. You began to rock. Feeling him bump against every inside inch of you. Whimpering as his grip on your hips guided you up so he could thrust. You braced on his chest, clawing and shuddering.
“That’s it, Y/N. Ride me. It’s my turn to make you feel good. Need you,” he whined.
Jumbled sounds fell through your parted lips. From under your lidded eyes, you could see Dick doing his best to hold onto his composure. Waiting for you. You bounced harder, racing to catch up.
“Don’t fight it, baby,” you said. “I’m so close.”
He sucked on his thumb and took it to your clit. You went rigid and cried out. He followed you shortly, tightening his grip on your hips and holding you down to feel every burst of his cum inside you. When he was spent, he helped you fall back to your side of the bed. You ignored how sweaty your bodies were and did your best to lay as close to him as you could.
Dick’s phone pinged. He groaned rolling over to it but reading it changed his mood. “Thank you, Cassandra.” He left it on the nightstand and turned back to you, curling you into his chest. “She’s back in town and Bruce says she’s got my shifts today.”
You bit your lip. “So… you get to be home all day?”
He heard the hopeful twinge to your voice. “I do.” A grin spread across his face, spreading further to yours. “Do you want waffles for breakfast?”
As lovely as that sounded… “can we sleep for a few more hours? Waffles for lunch?”
Dick kissed the tip of your nose. “Of course.” He smirked. “Only if I get to wake you up this time.”
Note: Wrote this at midnight. Sleep deprivation is my writing drunk. But no editing; we die like men. Still turned out pretty good, if I say so myself. If you’ve got a Jason request, or for anyone else in the DC, let me know. Or I’ve got open tag lists too if you don’t want to miss anything. Enjoy!
In the distance, you could hear sirens, but you had a feeling they weren’t for you. Fifty-fifty chance though. In front of that sound, you could hear the other motorcycle rapidly approaching. Twisting your wrist, you revved again. Your front wheel left the ground for a bit as you surged forward. The sirens got closer, chasing the motorcycle that was pulling up even with you.
Glints from the street lamps curved over his red helmet. Although you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the smirk he gave you as he surpassed your bike and ran a red light. It made your heart stutter to see his bike weave between cars. And then stutter again as you did it yourself.
Jason was waiting for you at the finish line with his helmet on his knee. “And the victor is-“
“Me,” you interrupted. “I didn’t catch the eye of the cops. You should know better than to go through Blue Alley.”
He shrugged. “It’s the most direct path. And I know you never take that route, even if it is shorter.” He looked over your shoulder as the police cars finally began to catch up.
“We’re still on the opposite side of town from home. First one there gets movie dibs.” You bit your lip and knew he would up the stakes.
“First one home gets to top.”
You were a block away before he got his helmet back on. This time you did go through Blue Alley, the trap avenue where police cars would sit and wait for ticket victims. But you were smart. You drove between trucks so you were invisible from the radar guns. Once the ‘danger’ was passed, you left everything in the dust. Even then, you could hear Jason coming up. He was in your rear-view mirror soon. Then beside you.
He lost momentum as he had to swerve to avoid a car shifting lanes. You made it into the complex garage for your apartment with a whoop. It would have been deliciously smug, but you didn’t stay to wait for him with your helmet on your knee. Instead, you stole the only lift and waved at him as the doors closed.
By the time he caught up, you were naked and perched on the edge of the bed.
Jason shed his leather jacket. “What happened to watching a movie?”
“Oh, no. You said whoever won got to top. And I won.” You curled a finger to draw him to you, but he leaned back on the door and crossed his arms.
“We didn’t shake on that. Yeah, you won, so you get to use your idea.” His eyebrow arched and his tongue darted out to wet his lip. With the way his gaze was already journeying across your body, you had already won.
You stood up and slowly walked to him. “Victor should get to choose. I won. And I like your idea.” You slid your hands up his biceps, over his shoulders, then into the hair on the back of his head. “Please. You know I’ll make you feel good, baby.” His body eased out of tension. You pressed closer to him. “And we’ve had a great night of taking out bad guys. Then a good race in the early morning.” You bit your lip and tilted your head to look up at him better.
With a dramatic groan he let you pull him away from the door. Once his shirt was gone, you kissed across his pecs and up his neck. That made him impatient. His fingers fumbled with his belt until he was almost bare before you. Jason leaned to kiss you, chasing your lips as you backed away. He growled as you spun and tipped him onto his stomach, giggling as he bounced. He growled again as you snapped the waistband of his shorts. Before he could complain further, you straddled his ass and ran your hands up either side of his spine.
His body always had a chill. You knew why that would never fully go away, but that was never going to stop you from trying.
He let out a sigh as you began to massage his back. The closer you got to his neck, where he was always the most tense, the more sounds he made. Your hips circled as his moans and whimpers made you heat up. You leaned down and kissed up his spine. You knew where he needed you. Knuckles and open palm presses and rubbing in all the right places. And those sounds. By the time you had worked out the knots in his muscles, you were sure you were dripping.
You giggled and snapped his waistband again, inspiring him to roll over so you could help him out of them. His cock sprang free, also warmed up from your massage. It made your mouth water. A detail Jason didn’t miss.
“Come here.” He gripped at your thigh and tried to direct you to sit on his face. “You wanted to be on top. So get up here. Don’t worry, it’ll still be there. Once you’ve cum once or twice.” His face lit up as you mewled. Your view of his proud visage was obscured once you moved into position. His arms trapped your thighs on either side of his head. “To the victor, the spoils.”
He must have been talking about the first race because he set to eating you out like you were the prize. Not that you would complain… if you could. His sharp-witted tongue explored your heat like it was the first time. When your body reacted in one way or another, he would keep playing there. If you sighed or gasped, he would lap or suck harder. His name became a mantra. Encouraged, he dug his nails into your thighs and nipped at your clit. Your eyes crossed and your body shuddered. Jason eagerly drank you. His enthusiasm sent you into another spiral. One that made your jaw slack and your breath a desperate plea.
“That’s my, Y/N,” he hummed. His cool hands felt good against your burning skin. “You done being on top?”
“Uh-uh,” you mumbled weakly. You wriggled down his body until you were perched on his stomach. “Not done with you yet.” Back to back orgasms had scrambled your brain. The harder to tried to come up with something witty, the more you just wanted to bounce on his cock. So, instead you settled for spreading your juices over his cock by rocking back and forth. You grinned in triumph as Jason tossed his head back. Leaning up, you guided his cock into your heat, slowly working down until you could feel every inch of him. His abs danced under your fingertips while you adjusted.
“Feel so good, Y/N,” he breathed. “So perfect.”
You repaid his praise with circling your hips. In unison, you groaned. Jason’s hands slid up your thighs to your waist. Squeezing. Begging. You raised up and eased down. His eyes closed as his hands gripped you. It was your power, so you were going to use it as you pleased. You raised again, this time slamming home. The glide of him was perfect, so you chased that sensation over and over again. Faster and faster. Angling until he was hitting you just right and calling out your name.
He began to meet your thrusts. His hands tightened on your waist. Across his body, his muscles tensed and pulsed as raced towards release.
You pleaded with him to hurry; you weren’t going to last much longer either.
Up and up, tighter and tighter, your pleasure built until you couldn’t breath and finally broke apart. Jason let out a strangled cry. You shivered and fell forward. He caught you on his chest, rolling you to his side. He kissed across your face softly, pumping and easing you down. You finally settled into a smile and kissed him back.
“Maybe I should let you win races in the future.”
You playfully slapped his chest. “Don’t you dare.”
Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Erik Killmonger, Kevin Ford, Loki, Steve Rogers, and Ulysses Klaue
Supernatural: Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Lucifer
WWE: 205 Live, Baron Corbin, Buddy Murphy, Cesaro, Elias Samson, Finn Balor, Jack Gallagher, Mojo Rawley, Neville, Noam Dar, Roman Reigns, Sami Zayn, Samoa Joe, Sheamus, Tommaso Ciampa, and either Uso.
I can write more characters as they are requested (like I have for Elliot Spencer, Eggsy Unwin, Sherlock, Tim McGee, and Tony DiNozzo).
Please let me know at any time if you would like to be added to a tag list. (By request or personal message.) And you can request a fic about anyone on this too! You don’t have to be shy. My only uncrossable lines are underage readers (18+ only) underaged characters, ships, or cheating. I try to write for you guys as much as I write for me.
Y/N, known to the world as Starhawk, and Nightwing help save the live of a pathologist. Life is going well and her niece is visiting, but finding the truth of who hired the assassin leads to some frightening developments.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: some fluff, heck of a lot of angst, deadly influenza threat, violence, blood, needles
Word Count: 3900 (longer than usual, more to say this time)
Note: Oh my God, you guys are going to hate me. Besides the obvious, please let me know what you think about the fic. Requests open. Tag lists open.
Blair Bones shoved the second magazine into his gun. The lab was covered in broken glass and leaking chemicals. He avoided bumping into anything as he stepped closer to his target. The scientist was huddled in the last available corner.
“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“But you don’t have anything I want.” Bones cocked the gun.
“Then why are you doing this?”
Bones smirked. Always that question. “Because someone wants you out of the way.”
Nightwing smirked as the last set of handcuffs clicked into place. The would-be robbers were barely conscious. One was snoring.
“Is that the last of them?” You rightened the last file cabinet and straightened the pencils on the desk. The scientist who belonged to the office had called you several days ago about a possible break-in. And that another might occur. Which it did, but this time you and Nightwing were ready.
“Yes.” Nightwing signaled on his com, “Robin, order ready for pick-up.”
“Cops there in two. See you when you’re done.” Tim left the coms.
You leaned against the wall. “Two minutes. Topic or front door delivery?” Nightwing shook his head back and forth considering.
“As much as I would like to shoot the breeze, why don’t we-“ Both of you froze as gunfire filled the air. “Speaking of shooting… you guys, don’t go anywhere.” The robbers groaned. Nightwing lead the way towards the source of the shots. He slid along the tiles into a lab, you close on his heels. It was nearly completely demolished. A broad-shouldered person had their back to you, while a smaller man huddled on the floor, pleading for his life.
The huddled man attempted to squeeze himself further into the corner. “Please, don’t!”
Nightwing drew his batons. “Hey!”
The broad-shouldered man turned, and you instantly recognized Blair Bones. Gun for hire at a cheaper rate than his skills were worth, you’d never seen him in person before. Nightwing leapt into action, engaging Bones. You ran to the scientist’s side; he was shivering, and his eyes were beginning to glaze over. Staring death in the face usually had that effect on people. You hauled him to his feet, forcing him to hurry as the sparring between Blair and Nightwing escalated. Glass shattered over your head as Bones’ attempt to shoot your partner was redirected in the scuffle. The scientist stumbled, falling behind a table. Out of the way. Safe.
You joined the scuffle, giving Nightwing time to take a breather. In the haste to get away once he realized he was outnumbered, Bones stumbled back into a window weakened by earlier gunfire. You tried to grab his vest to keep him from falling, but he fell with a cry. Nightwing rushed to your side. Below, Bones rolled to a stop. Your goggles zoomed in on a flash-drive drive that fell out of his pocket. The assassin was more focused on getting away than the evidence he left behind and ran off into the night without it. A few seconds later, blue flashing lights rounded the corner and Gotham’s best swarmed into the building to collect the earlier sting.
“Are you alright,” you asked, turning to the scientist. He nodded, shivering. Nightwing helped him to his feet. “Can you tell us why you think you were targeted?”
“I am Doctor Daniel Havran, and I’m one of the pathologists here. I’ve been developing a cure for an H6N1 influenza virus.”
While Dr. Havran continued his story, you went back to the window and shot one of your smaller grappling hooks. Soon you had the dropped flash-drive in your pocket.
Dr. Havran accepted the fire blanket Nightwing used to combat his shock. “A few weeks ago I started to receive threats to stop my work. Such threats are pretty usual for this line of work, so I thought nothing of it. Until now.” He leaned against a lab table. You and Nightwing shared a look. If the threats had been going on for a while, then the threatener had plenty of time to hire Blair Bones. And plenty of time to plan an alternate if Bones couldn’t finish the job.
Nightwing gently took the scientist’s arm. “We can have you in a safe house in five minutes. Right this way.”
Later in the Batcave, you had started to rummage through the files on the disk.
“Bones wasn’t searching for one specific thing, or he didn’t have time. Pretty much the whole office is on here.” You gestured at the screen. “Schedules, RNA strands, a list of everyone’s favorite snack. If he was there to kill Dr. Havran, why take all this too?” Dick, fresh out of uniform, stood behind your chair and rubbed his hands down your back. “And I keep seeing files for the H6N1 virus, but another one stored under that called ‘Thunderbird.’ But that’s encrypted.”
“You can worry about that one tomorrow. Right now you have a visitor about to come through the front doors.”
You were off like a shot, shedding the last of your uniform as you went. By the time you caught up with Alfred in the atrium, you looked like any other young woman your age lounging in your home. You caught your breath and waited for the doorbell. Alfred smiled at you and opened both doors as dramatically as possible to let in a little girl no taller than three feet.
“Auntie Y/N!” She ran straight into your arms, squealing as you lifted her into the air and spun her around. “This place is so big! Do you really live here? Why is the driveway so long, and how come you don’t have a mailbox? I’ve missed you much!”
“And I’ve missed you too, Wiggle Bug.” You put her down and kneeled beside her, looking up at Alfred. “Isi, this is Alfred. If you can’t find me, he’s available for all questions and raids of ice cream.” She gave him an adorable tiny wave. “Alfred, this is my niece, Isi.”
Ne kneeled down to your level and took her small hand in his for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Miss Isi. Do you have a favorite flavor?”
Isi curled into your shoulder, suddenly shy. “Strawberry. Please.” She looked up at you.
“It’s a little late for it tonight, but…”
“Perhaps at lunch?” Alfred finished. When Isi smiled in agreement, Alfred nodded and lifted her luggage to take to her room.
She met the family next. She took to Bruce the most. How could she not? He was like a giant teddy bear around children. Tim promised to show her the best hiding places in the mansion, and Jason let her see his tattoos. She seemed to like one of the black and white ones the best, asking if she could color it in for him with markers one day. Damian helped her disappear in order to show her his new kittens for a few minutes while you filled Bruce in on the night’s events.
“Keep looking through the files. See if there is anything in an earlier, more personal folder about who might have hired him.” He nodded at Dick, who walked in on the end of the conversation, then left for the cave to start his shift.
Isi came bouncing back into the den, just in time to see Dick kiss the back of your neck. “Is he your lover, Auntie Y/N?”
Dick chuckled and buried his head into your hair. “Am I your lover, Y/N?”
“He is my boyfriend, yes. Where did you get ‘lover’ from?”
She crawled up onto the couch to fiddle with a tassel on a pillow. “Mom’s neighbors call each other that. Do you guys hug a lot too?”
“It’s getting kind of late, so let’s show you your room.” You sat Isi on your hip, who drowsily rested her head on your shoulder. You walked by Dick and rolled your eyes. The questions of a child.
While you pulled down her covers, Isi finished brushing her teeth. On her way out of the bathroom, the door closed faster than she was expecting, catching her fingers. You rushed to her side as she began to cry. She quieted down to whimpers as you blew cold air across the injured fingers. You sat her on the bed.
“I’m sorry that big door got you, sweetie.” You wiped away her tears and kissed across her knuckles. “Are you going to be okay?” She muttered something close enough to a yes. The pain must have receded a bit if she could rub her eyes with her injured hand.
“I’d be better if I could have some ice cream.”
If she wasn’t your niece she could have been your child.
“Tomorrow for lunch. I promise. Now,” you kissed her forehead and eased her back into the pillows, “it is time for you to go to sleep. Sweet dreams, Isi.”
Isi yawned. “Sweet dreams, Auntie.” She was asleep before you left the room.
Dick brought you a cup of coffee the next morning as you continued pouring over the flash-drive. “How’s it going?”
“Bruce was right. It was called ‘music money,’ but I found the list of clients. He had a few targets to go after, but Dr. Havran was supposed to be the easy one. I’ve already alerted the other targets and gotten them some protection. Oh, and” you took a sip of the coffee, humming at it’s perfection, “I talked to Havran this morning. Took me ten minutes to get off the phone for all of his appreciation.”
Dick chuckled. “He did almost die.”
“Yeah.” You scrunched up your nose in thought. “But this other virus… Thunderbird… it’s super encrypted.” You continued observing the client list, smiling when you found what you were looking for. “And look at this.” You leaned back so Dick could read the screen.
“Falcone? Seriously?” Dick opened the recording of the video agreement. Seems Bones liked keeping good records in case someone wanted to backpedal on their contract. Dick whistled. If Falcone found out that Bones had a taped hit order of his, there wouldn’t even be bones left of him. “But why a pathologist? That doesn’t sound like him.”
You nodded your head in agreement. “Let’s go and ask him. Tonight.”
The rest of the day was consumed by entertaining Isi. There was indeed ice cream at lunch, and after a private and quiet tour of Wayne Tower, there was a pizza dinner in Bruce’s office. By the time you made it back to the manor, Isi was exhausted. She also complained about her stomach hurting. You figured that last slice was too much for her small stomach. Alfred carried her to bed so you and Dick could get ready for the night’s mission.
For all of Carmine Falcone’s mob boss bravado, it was laughably easy to sneak into his office. There was one tripped signal on the way in, but you made sure the camera only saw a stray cat. You and Nightwing waited in the shadows for only a few minutes before you heard voices approaching.
“I do not want to be disturbed,” Falcone said, pushing the double doors open. “And if that buffoon Bones shows up at our door, shoot him.” He slammed the doors shut and eventually collapsed into his desk chair. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyebrows to his temples. “I know you’re in here. You’ve used the cat before.”
“Damn,” you partner grumbled under his breath. He tapped your shoulder and followed you out into the dim light provided by the desk lamp.
“Why did you hire Blair Bones?” There was no use making small talk, so you cut to the chase.
Falcone shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I’d been paying that little lab weasel to create a new virus and antidote. I take it you’ve met?” He nodded as you both remained silent. “He became… erratic. Kept talking about a New Gotham. A new start. Originally, I was in it for the money, and for once didn’t want to kill anybody. He told me he’d found an influenza strain that was weak enough to do what I wanted: create a panic for a cure without wiping out all of my future customers.”
“That sounds a little out of the box for you, Falcone,” Nightwing said.
Falcone got up and took a small case from his bookshelf. “Agreed. But I have learned my lesson. I’ve come to believe there are more psychos in lab coats than in Arkham.” He opened the case where you could see there wasn’t a gun. Instead, there were rows of pills. He picked one, rubbing it between his fingers.
“Wait-“
Falcone swallowed the pill. For a few seconds, none of you moved. You were confused when Falcone gave a sigh of relief.
“Havran told me he had another virus. Thunderbird. Lethal and quickly spreading. I made sure he had an antidote as a stipulation for the funding. These are a few of the test trials, good for emergencies but not for duplication. Also,” Falcone sighed, “Thunderbird was going to be most dangerous to the elderly and to children.”
“A new start,” you whispered.
“Yes. The weasel infected himself the night Bones showed up. The goal was to kill him before then, though after would have worked too. Unfortunately, Bones failed in both. Because of you two.”
Nightwing stepped closer to Falcone. “How long until he is infectious?”
“You two are probably already infected. Carriers of Thunderbird.”
You swallowed hard and grabbed Nightwing’s shoulder. Children. Lethal.
Isi.
Nightwing nodded and called the safehouse from coms. Falcone shook his head when nobody answered. You walked further away and called the manor. Alfred’s words froze your blood.
“You need to get here. Now.”
You left Nightwing to deal with Falcone, racing home.
Isi’s labored breathing stopped you in your tracks. You leaned heavily against the doorframe and did your best not to cry.
“Auntie?” she rasped.
“I’m here, sweetie. I’m here.” You forced yourself to walk on solid feet to her bedside. All the way home you had replayed the incident with the smashed fingers last night. Wiping away her tears. Blowing on her fingers, which she used to rub her eyes. You fell to your knees and took Isi’s hand.
You had infected your niece with Thunderbird.
“How’s my wiggle bug feeling?” You could be strong. You could be there for her. You could fix this.
Alfred tucked in the comforter around her on the other side of the bed. “Fever. Chest pains. She was a little confused when she woke up as to where she was, but we’ve got that sorted out now.” He gave you a small smile and left you too alone.
“Alfred won’t let Damian bring me any kittens,” Isi pouted. She gave your hand a weak squeeze and let out a shuddered breath.
You tried to smile. “You don’t want to get him or the kittens sick, do you?” Isi shook her head no and closed her eyes. You placed your hand on her forehead, terrified when it was so warm. You could fix this. Isi was going to be okay. You can do this. Your ignored tears sank to make your chest hurt. As quietly as you could, you left the room. Alfred was waiting outside.
He spoke before you could get a chance. “She’s stable. And I will call you with any change.” He patted your shoulder and sent you on your way to come up with a plan.
Batman gave his blessing to you and Nightwing to finish the case. He stayed in the cave with some of your infected blood and a list of everyone either your or Nightwing came into contact with. If all else failed, perhaps he would be able to make a few calls and come up with an antidote.
The safehouse was empty and cold. That wasn’t unusual from the outside, but inside? Inside was… terrifying.
Nightwing had sent for someone earlier to check on the guard. He was alright but was being held in quarantine. The atrium showed the struggle from where Dr, Havram attacked him after inviting him in for coffee. There was glass from a shattered vase, a tangled rug that tripped the guard, and an empty injector gun. You audibly gasped at the sight of the kitchen. Crystalline glasses and hot plates had been transformed into make-shift chemical equipment. Papers obliterated with writing covered every other available surface. Where Dr. Havran had run out of paper, more formulas and ramblings were written on the walls.
“Here,” Nightwing said, pointing out a line of text. It was written in larger letters and seemed to be burned into the wall. “With death comes rebirth.” Nightwing grit his teeth. “I am really starting to not like this guy.”
In one notebook you found addresses of other labs scattered between other ramblings. The whole notebook was written backward to only be read while standing in front of a mirror, like Da Vinci’s notes. But that’s what the high-tech goggles were for. With a quick check on a map of Gotham, you found the one that was closest to the safehouse location. It was dying apartment complex across the road from a school that taught almost all of Gotham’s underprivileged children.
Your body vibrated, your nerves hovering between checking every nook and cranny for anything about how to save Isi and rushing to the lab to take from the source. The stay was only a few minutes, though it felt longer. You were glad to be off when the apartment complex came into view. A man sleeping by the stairs said that a ‘crazy dude in a white coat’ had kicked everybody out a month ago by claiming the building was condemned. Technically it was, but the ‘imminent threat’ of collapse seemed to convince everybody this time around. The man even knew what floor he was on.
Once inside the building, it was not difficult to find the spare lab. Dr. Havran had taken over what had been a promising renovation for a community study hall. Most of the 80’s computers had been thrown into the hallway, their broken screens illuminated by the harsh lights freed from their lampshades. The desks had been pushed together to similarly resemble the kitchen at the safehouse.
In the center of it all, Dr. Havran was peering through a glove-case finalizing a vial. While the exterior was being disinfected by a small motor mist, he freed himself of the gloves and stepped back with a chuckle.
“So Falcone tipped you off that I’m unstable? You wouldn’t have been here for another few hours at the earliest if he hadn’t.” He unlatched the side of the case for the vial. Swinging it back and forth, threatening to drop it, he tutted at your attempts to rush him. “I wouldn’t if I were you. This is the only collection of a viable antidote. If I drop it, it won’t survive outside of the glass. You’ll need an injector gun, much like this one. Oops.” Dr. Havran held up the tool with a grin, then smashed it onto the floor. The delicate muzzle shattered on impact.
A shiver of anger crawled up your spine. There had to be another way to use the antidote. You had to keep him talking.
“Then what?” you asked. “You infect the school. The children take it home to their parents who take it to their coworkers who take it home to their children.” Stepping around a table, you moved slowly towards him. “You wipe out a generation, all for nothing.”
“No, not for nothing,” he cooed. “Like mushrooms from dead trees or fresh fields from volcano ash, with death comes rebirth. Gotham will be an example to other cities that it must care for its children more than they are doing now. Make new laws, cast old ones out. Gotham will be the epicenter of rebirth.”
You growled, “innocent children. Did you lose someone? A son or daughter, or a niece or nephew?”
Dr. Havran shook his head in confusion. “Why do I need to be connected with the persecuted to see the need? To help them?”
It was twisted. You had heard enough. And had distracted him enough for Nightwing to circle behind him. He grabbed the vial and sent the scientist to his knees with a flick of his baton. Nightwing placed the vial in the belt clip-on made exclusively for vials to keep them from breaking. He turned to rush back to the manor, but Dr. Havran grabbed his ankle. Nightwing cried out as he fell and found himself under the doctor’s mad attack.
Rushing forward, you kicked Dr. Havran’s claw-like hands away and descended on him yourself. He reached back under the desk and pointed the found gun at your face. You rolled away barely evading the bullets that impeded themselves in the furniture around you. When you fell out of sight, Dr. Havran turned his attention back to Nightwing, shooting at him too.
For a scientist with terrible aim, he had both of you pinned down pretty well.
“How desperate are you for the cure, Starhawk? Nightwing? Who did I infect through you? A son or daughter? A niece?”
Your rage boiled over. With a scream that revealed that he had hit his mark, you flipped over the cabinet covering you. Arms outstretched and hands ready to claw out his throat, your anger blurred your vision too much to see the handful of long-needled syringes aimed at your chest. You gasped as the needles pierced through your suit and snapped off from their shafts. They stuck out of your chest like darts in a bar.
Dr. Havran took your pause of shock to break away. He almost made it to the door when Nightwing’s grappling rope wrapped around his ankles. Nightwing was on him in a second, handcuffing his wrists tightly. He broke a glass pill filled with sleeping smoke under his nose ensuring that he would asleep long enough to transport him to Arkham.
“Havran secured, Batman. Send in the blues and we’ll be home soon.” He rounded the corner with that smile he always wore when a crisis was averted. It fell away when he saw the needles. “No, no, no, no. Hang on.” He moved to kneel by you, but you waved him off.
“Isi. Get to Isi.” One or more must have pierced deep enough to your lungs because each breath felt like you were being stabbed over and over again. “Please. Isi.” You pleaded with your eyes, not trusting your voice not to betray the pain you were in.
He nodded. With one more glance to the blood seeping over your suit, he ran out of the building. Over the coms, you heard him tell Batman he was on his way. Faintly you heard Batman promising to meet him halfway to take the antidote to Isi. Then Nightwing could come back to you.
The windows reflected with flashing blue. The icy hot in your chest seeped further into your torso.
Isi was going to be okay. She was going to get the antidote. Isi was going to live.
Dick’s voice called you out of the sleep threatening to overtake you.
“I’m coming, Y/N. I can save you. We can fix this. You’re going to be okay. You can do this.”
Note: I tried to give blood the other day and it did not go well. The circumstances are a little different in the fic, but here’s hoping it connects with a few of you. Please let me know if it did, or if you have your own donation stories. All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Please enjoy!
(Credit to here; I couldn’t find a better gif elsewhere. Thank you!)
A harsh white light filled your sight as you blinked. Blurry figures flittered in and out of your vision, slowly congealing into nurses as they moved around other participants. One figure hovered closer than the others. They were saying something but hearing and understanding took a few more seconds.
“Y/N? Wake up, please. Can you hear me? Y/N?” Dick’s face came into focus and you smiled. He was in his police uniform.
“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” You tried to lift your hands to cup his face, but it hurt too much to lift your left arm.
Dick glanced down at your arm and kept you from moving it. “One of the guys on duty recognized you and called me on dispatch when you passed out. What are you doing here?”
“Giving blood.” Oh yeah. Lightheadedness and then darkness. “Or trying too.”
As the nurse began to check the wrap on your arm, you made the mistake of looking down. Your vision swam again seeing the quick bruising around the needle site. Dick turned your face back to look at him. His eyes glinted with a flash of panic.
“No. Breath with me.” He led you through a breathing exercise, distracting you from… everything. By the time the nurse pulled your billowy sleeve down to cover the site you were both calmer.
“You’re good to go,” she said. “We got almost a full pint, so we should still be able to use it. Thank you for trying.” She handed you an ice-cold apple juice and spoke to Dick. “Give her a few minutes before letting her up. She’s probably going to be unstable for a hot second.”
Dick shook his head as the nurse went to help another donator. “I thought you weren’t going to try again?”
“But I want to help!” You wriggled to sit up a bit, then realized how leaned back they had you. “The last time was only bad because I tried it with my right arm last time. It was too thin and…”
“And the needle went through your vein. And you were bruised for over two weeks. And you have passed out or nearly passed out every time you’ve given, if you were even successful.” He sighed and rested his forehead on yours. “I don’t want you to keep risking your health.”
You snorted. “Like you don’t do that every day wearing either of your blue uniforms. Dick, I may not be able to fight the bad guys like you do, but I can give blood every once in a while. What’s a quick nap if I can help someone?” You studied his face. “Why does this scare you so much? You know I am safe here. It’s not Gotham.”
“I know, it’s just…” Dick looked around the room. “When you pass out, there’s nothing I can do to help you. You have to wake up on your own, and that scares me.” He gave your right hand a short tight squeeze. “I can’t save you.”
He looked guilty. Like it was his fault that your body was so adamant about not giving. Like it was his fault that you hadn’t told him you were going to try again. You felt guilty for not telling him.
“How about this?” You gathered your thoughts as Dick watched you intently. “You don’t like it, but I’m just as stubborn as you are so I’m going to keep trying. But I’ll tell you next time. We’ll make a day of it. You can take me to lunch, stay with me and hold my hand during the donation, and then take care of me afterward. You can save me by making sure my system is ready.” You bit your bottom lip when Dick didn’t react at first. “Thoughts? Worries? Suggestions?”
Dick’s temples flexed as he clenched his jaw. “You’re right. I don’t like it.”
“Richard,”
“And you’re right again. You are stubborn enough to keep trying.” He thought for a few more seconds. “I understand why you want to give. And I’m glad you see my side of things.” Again he paused. You fought against holding your breath. “I’ll ask off on days you want to donate, but I would like to keep it closer to four months between donations instead of the usual two allowed.”
“So you miss less work. I can agree to that.” You smiled. Dick did too.
“Cool. I would also like to take you to a doctor to see if we can do something different so you don’t pass out.” Dick looked away and mumbled under his breath, “and if they tell you not to give, all the better. Less stress all around.”
“I heard that,” you said at the same whisper level. You giggled. “If we are in agreement… where are you taking me for lunch?”
He laughed. “How about the Mediterranean place on Fourth? They have a great lentil soup with spinach. The best iron foods in one place for a hero.”
“Sounds good.” You leaned into his touch and he ran his thumb across your cheek. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“Back at you. Now let’s see how many packages of Oreos we can get away with before they run us out of the joint.”
Jason and the reader are due a turn in the Wayne spotlight. They attend, but Jason finds a way to keep the evening interesting.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Hearing Impaired!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: dirty talk (extreme edition), cumming in public, implied further smut
Word Count: 1280
Note: I have the headcanon that Jason is a worse tease than Dick. So here is Jason when he’s captive in a suit and can only think about you. Tag lists and request open, and please let me know if you like the fic with comments and reblogs!
When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw Jason pacing the ground floor like a caged tiger. “Do you really hate the Wayne Gala this much?” You asked, drawing his attention. “Or is this your version of a grown-up temper tantrum?”
Jason whistled. His eyes stayed glued to your thigh when it peeked out during your descent. “I’ll put up with the Gala for as long as I can see you in that dress. Who knew you cleaned up so nice?”
“You’re not to bad yourself.” You stopped next to him to straighten his tie. It would be in his pocket or completely lost within an hour, but for now, it complemented the perfect suit. You hated going to the showboating fest too, but it was worth it to see Jason in the suit. “Ready to go?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
In the elevator at Wayne Tower, Jason frantically checked his pockets. “Before I forget, I brought our earbuds.” He put his in, then held yours out and waited. You put in your advanced coms and gave Jason your hearing aids.
“Any particular reason? Does Bruce want us to keep an eye out for something?”
“No.” The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. He leaned in close. “I’m going to make you cum before the end of the night.” He grinned big next to you for the sudden flash of paparazzi, then he was gone.
You were dragged away for an interview. It was a reporter you had spoken to before, so she knew to emphasize pronunciation and keep her head tilted towards you so you could see her lips. The next few followed her example, so your responses were better than usual, though still mostly fluff.
“The Wayne family is always proud and humbled to give their annual donations to the Gotham, Metropolis, and Star City hospitals. This year we will begin planning to also donate to Bludhaven’s hospitals in the next season. If we can give these major cities the due funding they require, from the largest centers to the smallest clinics, then we can build up to peacefully retaking our cities.”
You felt a tapping in your ear, telling you Jason has turned on his earbud. You twiddled the crystalline flute of some bubbly beverage and refocused on the microphone in front of you.
“Yes, the funding is moving into the next stage. Data from former years is ensuring that each medical structure is getting the funding they need. So far most of it is going to clinics in the further stretches of town, and the ones deep in the middle of each city. Funding is based on need, not the… pardon me, not the prestige of the hospital’s name as it has been done in the past.”
The reporter continued to ask questions, but you were distracted by the moaning and grunting sounds in your ear. With a tight smile, you cut the question short and wiggled your almost empty glass in his face. “Excuse me.” The reporter nodded with short thanks. You walked away to a corner of the room to look for Jason.
“Can you see me?” Jason’s voice was deep. You knew from experience what it felt like against your chest or between your legs. “Some reporter brought some weights for me to use. Trying to gauge whether I could be the Batman or not.”
You swallowed, mentally picturing the way you knew his muscles rippled. “His conclusion?”
“To be determined in the morning print. You sound a bit out of breath Y/N. Did I distract you?”
Licking your lips, you moved closer to a set of broad shoulders facing away from you. Upon getting closer, you realized the stance was too wide and the height too short. You huffed. “Not in the slightest. What are you playing at, Jason?”
“I’m bored. You will be bored if you aren’t already. It’s the same six questions for papers looking for the exclusive. Come on, let’s have a little fun. You better pray that you find me fast.”
He was gone again for a few minutes. Just enough time for you to get snagged into a group bedazzled with expensive jewelry worn once a year. Now it was the rich people asking you the reporter’s questions, but you had to reword your answers so they wouldn’t read them in the morning.
Jason tapped again. In the background, you could hear the heavy clacking of plates as if he was close to a kitchen. “That slit in your dress would make for some quick access to your pussy. I bet if we found the right corner, I could eat you out and nobody could see me. Would you be able to hold a straight face as I thrust my tongue and fingers into your wet hole? I bet you would give our spot away with those sweet sounds you make. Especially if I suck on your clit hard the way you like it.”
You cleared your throat and excused yourself from the group. “Seriously?”
“Yes. And since I know you always make a mess out of my face, I bet I’ll have to use whatever you’re wearing underneath to clean up.”
The thin under layer you did have was in danger of staining through to the front of your dress. If Jason kept up for much longer, you might have to leave early. Unless… two could play at this game.
“While the slit is useful for you, I can use it too. Do you know how hard it is to kneel in an evening gown? If I can’t kneel, then I can’t tease you with kitten licks up the underside of your cock the way you like it.”
“Hmm, if you make me ruin my suit pants, we’ll both be in trouble. Slit or no slit, there is no way this night isn’t ending without you screaming my name for the whole gala to hear. Not that you’ll be thinking about that. You’ll be too busy feeling how good I fill you up. How good my cock drags in and out of you. How good my aim is when I find that spot inside you that makes your knees give out.”
You leaned back into a wall to keep your balance. “Oh really?” Your voice shook despite your attempt to keep it even. You’d never admit it, but you were ready to fall apart right there. “And then what?”
Jason appeared at your shoulder and whispered into your ear, “and then I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here so we can make out in the limo. Then when we’re home and I have you to myself, we’re not done until its breakfast time, and time to eat you out all over again.”
You whimpered and reached back to curl your fingers in his hair. “Jason,” you moaned.
“Any last words?”
“Yeah,” you gasped, “payback is going to be a bitch.”
Jason pressed his body against your back with a chuckle, you could feel his hard length on the small of your back. He squeezed your waist tightly as he whispered, “cum.”
Your body shivered from the tips of your toes to the tips of your fingers to the top of your head. Damn if even just imagining what he was going to do to you didn’t feel like the real thing. You clawed into his wrist where he was holding you up. When your vision came back, and your breathing began to settle down, you turned around and kissed him.
Jason nuzzled his nose against yours when you broke off to catch your breath. “So. Are you ready to begin?”
A Nightly Affair: (S) Nightwing keeps mistaking your apartment for his and you two grow very close. Very. Close. So close as to put you in danger, unless Nightwing can find you first. [Series Masterlist]
The Kissing Thief: (S) Y/N gets fed up with Dick Grayson hiding mistletoe all over the manor, and suggests an alternate activity. The ‘alternate activity’ continues all year. No plot, just smut and fluff. [Series Masterlist]
Dick gets his hands on a marshmallow gun… but he forgets about your nerf gun stash. Shenanigans occur.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: Fluff, nerf guns, tickling, hickeys, slight language
Word Count: 770
Note: I’ve had this fic started for over two months but could never seem to find the rest of it. I think I finally got it. If you agree (or disagree) please let me know with comments, likes, and reblogs. My requests and tag lists are open. Have a happy new year and please enjoy this fluffy fic!
“Hey, Y/N, heads up!”
You turned just in time for something small and soft to hit you in the nose. You picked up a marshmallow from your lap and held it up at Dick.
“Did you just shoot me with a marshmallow? Don’t waste them, that’s why we have nerf guns.”
“Oh, yeah. But the bullets get everywhere and take forever to clean up!”
“So do marshmallows because you are a terrible shot!”
“Am not.”
“You hit me in the nose. My. Nose. Not my lips. My nose.”
For a split second, you stared each other down. Dick cursed as you leapt off the couch and ran towards the hall closet.
Tim could hear you squeal as Dick caught up with you, then the shout “hey!” after a soft ‘pop.’ He couldn’t help but laugh as bullets came raining out of the hallway before either of you tumbled back into the living room. He made a hasty exit as the living room became a war zone.
“You are going to lose, flyboy!” You shot a volley of nerf from one end of the couch, then rolled quickly to the other side. As suspected, Dick came running around that corner. He stumbled back dramatically as you shot him multiple times in the chest.
“Bird down! Bird down!” He collapsed and let his tongue hang out of his mouth. You were impressed how he didn’t blink.
You ran to him just as dramatically and cradled him in your arms. “So young. So much potential. The world will miss him, and he shall be avenged.”
Dick sat up and cocked his eyebrow. “By my killer?”
“Shut up,” you said, pushing him back down. “You’re dead. Let me have my moment.” You couldn’t help but giggle as he fell limp in your arms again. “What will the world do without him?” You leaned down to give his forehead a kiss but backed off at the last second. Dick blinked in surprise and was about to ask why when you shot him in the forehead with your last bullet. It stuck out comically like a unicorn horn.
“What was that for?” Dick flicked the bullet off.
“I had to make sure you wouldn’t come back as a zombie.” With a smirk, you booped him on the nose.
Dick’s smile spread into a mischievous grin. “Didn’t you ever learn you’re supposed to take two shots?” He rose dramatically into a sitting position. “Always double tap.”
When you realized he wasn’t going to stay down, you raised your nerf gun and fired at his head again. But nothing happened. The last bullet had already been flicked away. Dick did his best impersonation of a zombie growl and crouched on all fours to be eye to eye with you. You scrambled backward until you could get to your feet. You only made it as far as the next couch before he tackled you and pinned you beneath him.
“You won’t be able to turn me,” you laughed. “I’m wearing zombie-proof armor. The undead will never be able to turn me.”
“Well, then, we shall just have to take it off while my undead fingers still have dexterity.” Before you could argue his ability to speak, Dick homed in on your tickle points. He jumped rapidly between each one, never giving you time to catch your breath. Within a few minutes, your sides hurt from laughing and contorting yourself in an effort to get away. Your squeals of surprise had turned into shrieks of desperation. Dick continued his onslaught until he had removed the invisible layer of armor. With a dramatic growl of triumph, he lightly bit down on your neck and sucked.
“I thought you were a zombie, not a vampire?”
“When I get done giving you this hickey,” he said between sucks, “it’s going to look like a zombie bite.” He laughed against your skin as you cried out a feeble ‘no.’ He sat back on the couch and gave you a stratified nod.
“Dick Grayson, if this bruises and I can’t wear my intended dress to Bruce’s social party tonight, you are going to be very put off.”
“Why would I-“
“It’s the red one.”
“Dammit.” Dick ran his hands over his eyes. He looked again at your neck. “It’s not going to bruise. An ice pack should do the trick by tonight.” He leapt off the couch and ran to the kitchen.
By the time he got back, you had reloaded your nerf artillery. With your victory you gave him a matching mark, and the suggestion that he should shoot you with marshmallows more often.
Do you guys want a definite schedule, or do you want to be surprised as they come out?
Also, I’m planning my Thanksgiving drabbles. What dinner shenanigans do you want to see with the Winchesters, the Avengers, the Bat Family, and the WWE?
Dick won unlimited kisses till the 4th with his New Year’s glitter antics. How far would he have to go to win them for life?
Pairing: Dick Greyson x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: plot without point, SMUT, oral (female receiving), fluff ending (kinda?)
Word Count: ~1620
Note: I can’t decide if this should be the last installment of this series or not. Please let me know what you think in the comments or by reblogging with suggestions. Likes are always appreciated. And please don’t forget that my requests are open, as well as my tag list. Please enjoy!
Whether you were on or off duty, Dick was taking full advantage of his kissing rights. You had promised him endless ones till July since he gliterized Jason, but as July moved on Dick had gotten anxious. He knew why you ended the deal in July. It was one of the crazier months of the year with the availability of fireworks and prestigious celebrations that could be crashed.
But you didn’t want the deal to end as much as he didn’t. It wasn’t that he couldn’t kiss you anytime in the first place, but the excessive mistletoe back at Christmas had to be dealt with. Although, you couldn’t complain of the results of your Christmas sparring match.
If anything, you loved the way his mouth moved against yours. The way he would chuckle as you leaned forward when he pulled away. How your hips would press against his when you were in the mood for something more.
“Chandra? Come in, Chandra.” The voice calling your vigilante name broke through your thoughts. “Chandra, are you okay?” It finally registered that you were talking to Bruce.
“Yes, sorry,” you said, pressing the com further into your ear. “Nothing to report so far. This side of town is quiet.”
“Good to hear. Head back to the Batcave and rest up. We have several hours before the mayor’s Fourth of July Banquet. Nightwing will fill you in on the details.”
“Yes, sir. Over and out.”
You found Dick staring at the plethora of screens in the cave. After removing the radio from your ear, you watched him flick through every camera he had access to. A shadow flickered at the bottom corner of one screen. Dick maneuvered his screens to show every possible path. The shadow passed through another one, then pounced on a mouse in the third.
“Such a fiend should be brought to justice,” you said in your best Batman voice. Then you giggled. “Don’t let Damian see it though, or we’ll have another pet.”
Dick smiled back and walked over to pull you into his arms. He rested his chin on your head as you buried your face into his chest. After a moment, he pulled back. “Are you okay? You sounded a little out of it on the com.”
“Yeah, I’m good. I was thinking over something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Am I going to like it?”
“I think so.”
Before he could reply with some sassy remark, Tim rode into the cave on his bat-bike. “Hey, Grayson. Can I watch the screens for an hour or so? I have a theory.”
“Sure, I guess. But if you mess up my system I’ll have you rewire the game room.” He chuckled as you shuddered in his arms. Even the hardest tech-monster would run screaming from the game room. It looked like something out of a space horror movie.
“Fair enough. Are you okay, Y/N?”
“Yeah, my ankle felt like it was acting up. Dick was going to look at it for me.” You yelped as Dick lifted you off the floor and started to carry you back into the house. “Thanks for asking, Tim.”
Back in Dick’s room, he dropped you on the bed. “You didn’t say anything about your ankle earlier. I thought I was going to like this talk?”
“You are. I couldn’t exactly say I wanted to extend your kissing contract indefinably in front of him, now could I?”
Dick smirked. “So… may I kiss you now?” You nodded. He dipped down to press his lips against you chastely. “May I kiss you again?” You hummed and rose up to meet him. He licked your bottom lip till you opened up to him. His hands ran over your heated skin, leaving hotter streaks in their wake. He broke away, chuckling as your lips followed him. “What if I want to do more than kiss you?”
You rested a finger on your lips as if in thought. “You still have to ask nicely.”
“Always. May I have this roll in the hay, Miss Y/N?”
“Yes, you may, Mr. Richard.”
With a giggle, you pulled at the hem of his shirt. Dick helped you discard it before making quick work of your uniform. He slid out of his pants and boxer briefs as you tossed away your bra and panties. He hovered over you while your chest heaved. The minimal light in the room made his face stand out in contrast, angular and half-hidden. Your eyes flicked down to see what the light was doing to his abs. Washboard as ever. Dick stole your focus back by running his nose down your forehead, over your face, down the hollow of your throat, and stopping between your breasts. He sucked slightly on your skin, then kissed his way up your breast, swirling his tongue around the peak. Your skin broke out into chills as he blew gently across the damp tip, hardening it. He kissed his way down and up to the other side before bringing the other nipple to attention the same way.
You arched into him. Your breath shuddered in your chest. Your skin may have felt like ice, but your blood was on fire. Dick took your arch as a chance to snake his arm behind your waist and flip you over a pillow. He kissed his way across your shoulder blades and down your spine. He sucked a mark just at the base of your spine. He blew cool air over that spot too, making you gasp.
He leaned back up to whisper in your ear. “Would you like your roll in the hay to be gentle and slow, or fast and rough, Miss Y/N?”
You groaned in pleasure. Rough sounded wonderful, but you had to think practically. “Slow tonight. I need to be able to run tonight if things go sideways at the banquet.”
“Yes, ma’am. Slow and gentle it is.” Dick shimmied down the bed till his face was aligned with your pussy. He parted the meat of your ass to get a better look and found it glistening. He hummed as he laid a thick stripe bottom to top. “You always taste so wonderful.” He continued to lick and suck till you were hyper sensitive and hyper aware of how wantonly you were moaning. With each moan from you, Dick increased his efforts to please you; a delightful barter system of yours. He added fingers to the mix. He curled and twisted his digits till your moans had turned into soft screams.
“Anytime you want to come, Y/N, go ahead. Hold nothing back.”
Your walls clenched around his fingers as he curled them deeper into you. Your skin burned as he licked up the slick pouring from you. Warm hands rubbed your legs till they stopped shuddering from the bliss. Gently he hummed against the side of your thighs, soothing you till your breathing was no longer ragged.
As if a warm blanket had settled over you, you fought off the sudden urge to sleep. You could feel Dick’s hard length against your backside as he came to hover over you.
“Do you want to sleep, or…” he started.
“One more. Please, Dick, one more. With you.”
A sigh passed through your lips as he massaged your shoulders and kissed the back of your head. He reached down and guided his tip into your wet heat. He used your arousal to coat his cock before beginning a slow entrance into you. There was no way you could have been any more relaxed and ready for him. He slid in easily, like silk, bottoming out with a grunt.
“Sweet… gah… you feel perfect, Y/N.”
He took a deep breath, then began to pull just as slowly out of you. The languid rhythm was nearly tortuous. It was enough burn to bring you close to orgasm, but you knew it would never push you over. Tiny mewls and breathy hums did nothing to spur him on like they usually would. He seemed intent on making the sensation last but you could feel him struggling. His cock throbbed inside you, ready to finish. Your skin had broken into a sweat long ago, but you could feel his sliding through yours as he maintained his pace.
“Dick, sweetie, you can go a little faster than that. Please?”
He moaned back at you and started to jolt his hips. The sound of skin slapping on skin mingled with the increased cries falling from both of you. The tell-tale fire in your gut reached its combustion point and you tumbled over the edge. You felt his hips stutter once, twice and then he stilled and spilled into you with rope after rope.
You were almost asleep when you felt the bed dip and Dick roll you off the pillow and onto your back. He maneuvered a warm towel between your legs, and then a second one over your skin till it was cleansed of patrol and sex sweat. You groaned in protest as he sat you up.
“Hydrate. Bruce will kill me if you pass out from dehydration on mission.” He waited till you finished the glass before refilling it and downing it himself. Then he slid into the bed and pulled the covers over your bodies.
You would have been a sleep, but his mind was seemingly still awake.
“Do you think anyone’s figured out how to make a Bat symbol firework yet?”
You would have rolled your eyes had they not already been closed and if you had the energy. You settled for a gentle smile.
“If you see any, let me know,” you murmured. You felt him stroke your hair till consciousness slipped away.
Our Deepest Desires 