Withered Cards | III

Withered Cards | III

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

"Mistakes are not something you can afford to make, Jason," Bruce commented, though his gaze was trained on the screen before him. "I told you this was an intel mission. You should have waited for my queue."

Jason adjusted his position on the chair he was currently sat on, his gaze burning into Bruce's back the longer he continued to stare at the projective computer before him. The tape that he had collected from the mission played on repeat, and truthfully, it was becoming painful for Jason having to rewatch it over and over.

Yes, he had been given strict orders to merely stay hidden within the shadows and report back to Batman with the intel he was instructed to gather, but Jason wanted to do more than be a sidekick to gather information.

“How was that a mistake?” He retorted, pointing to the screen. “If I hadn’t gone, you would have never known what was happening down there.”

Finally, Bruce turned in his chair, his voice just as deep as always. Like a parent scolding his child - which was true to an extent.

"You're telling me that you found out what that whole ordeal was about?" He questioned, gesturing a hand to the screen. "Because it sure doesn't look like you do."

It angered Jason more than he would have liked to admit that Bruce was mostly right. The most Jason knew was that the Joker was up to something, but when was he not? The best possible answer he got was that he has an alliance of some sort. You seemed to be around his age, possibly younger, and yet you were one of the most skilled fighters he's fought. You were experienced, and no doubt deadly.

His nose ached from the harsh punch that you had thrown, the wet rag that was now soaked with crimson blood was discarded beside him.

When Bruce noticed his silence, he continued to ignore him from then on. His fingers dancing along the computer and leaving an uncomfortable silence that Jason wished to break.

Alfred walked in with a tray of coffee; something Bruce had waved him off to go and grab whilst he worked. Whilst the silence lingered, Alfred's gaze flickered up to the screen of the masked girl.

"I do not recognize this criminal," Alfred spoke as he settled the tray down. "Have we seen this girl before?"

Bruce shook his head, a frown etched on his features. "No, but there have been witnesses. Apparently, she's only shown up around Gotham the past two months."

Alfred hummed. “And what does this criminal do, exactly?”

Bruce pushed his body away from the desk with a long sigh, his brows still pinched into a deep frown as his hand dragged down his face. “Jason’s body cam just managed to pick up a little of their conversation before she ran off. The Joker is in on this, too. She knows him, and well.”

Jason's curiosity was piqued. What was the Joker's intentions, now? Surely it was another scheme to lure Batman into a trap.

“Perhaps another laughing gas?” Alfred suggested as he glanced over at Jason, gesturing toward the tea as he offered to pour some, but Jason shook his head.

"Not a laughing gas," Jason concluded, digging into the suit that he still wore. He pulled out the familiar vial that he had managed to snatch from the masked girl, holding it up for everybody's view. "I'm thinking maybe a drug, or maybe some sort of crazy mutation serum!" He looked between the two, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Bruce remained silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving the vial in his son's hand. Jason was expecting praise, a congratulations, maybe even a pat on the back and allowed more freedom whilst on patrol. But Bruce's face remained stoic.

"Jason," he started, tone very far from what he had expected. Was it anger? Disappointment? Shock?

He was quick to saunter over and take the vial from his hand, analyzing it carefully as he twisted it in his grasp.

With a shake of his head, his frown deepened. If that were even possible. He placed the vial carefully onto the desk beside the computer.

"You're too reckless," he began. "Not only did you go against my orders, but now you are involved with a crime much deeper than what you can handle. You've put yourself in danger. And not only yourself," he pointed to the screen again. "But you got her in danger, too."

Jason felt his anger boil, ready to spill over any second. Could Bruce not see his success for once? Could he not give him the approval he desperately wished for? It was risky, but he had got the job done.

"I did what I had to," he defended, the anger evident in his voice as he took a step closer.

Bruce quickly snapped back. "And what you did was wrong."

A pause.

"Next time something like this happens, you follow my order... otherwise the title of Robin goes to somebody else."

In the heat of his rage, Jason stormed past both Bruce and Alfred and made his way out of the Batcave, cape flowing behind him with every long stride. Before the door had slammed shut, he just managed to hear a little of Alfred's voice.

"They're both just children, Master Wayne," he tried. "Much like you once were."

"I can't have him making more mistakes."

A harsh slap landed against your cheek, your head snapping to the side from the force. The burning sensation left behind caused for your eyes to sting with tears, your vision blurred.

His maniacal laughter was all you could hear despite the ringing in your ears, and you didn't fail to notice the very evident annoyance behind each deep inhale of laughter.

"I can't believe it!" Joker paced. "You really let that little rodent slip past your fingers, just like that? My, my, I might have placed just a little too much faith in you."

He crouched down before you, masking a frown as his thumb came up to swipe the blood from your lip. Your tongue darted out to swipe at the cut he had left, the metallic taste lingering in your mouth.

"I must say I am very disappointed," Joker hummed, but oddly enough his hand came to rest on your shoulder, like an odd way of comforting. "But that's why there's always room to learn from mistakes!"

The vial that you were sent to retrieve merely a few hours ago was no longer tucked away safely in your pocket.

You had only realized once you were in front of Joker's latest warehouse that he used as a current hideout, your hands searching every pocket, each shoe, in search for the vial. Robin had managed to slip it out without you noticing, and it enraged you.

He was fast, skilled, and very obviously sly. Although it was a tough fight, it brought some adrenaline and excitement into your night. Something you had craved for a while.

Joker clicked his tongue in thought, now sat on a torn couch across from you with his leg propped up on his knee.

"You'll make it up to me, right, my little clown?" his tone was almost mocking. "Perhaps next time you might run into the little birdy again, oh, that would spice things up!"

You inhaled a shaky breath. "I'll get it back," you said, but he waved you off.

"Nah, I'll just get the doc to make me a new one. Although, we can't afford any more mistakes now, can we, Y/N?"

He looked at you expectingly, dread washing over you the longer his gaze pierced your own.

"No, we can't."

"That's my girl!" He clapped his hands. "Harley! Come get the poor girl cleaned up, will ya? She looks like she's been through hell!" He let out a loud cackle at what he considered a joke, slapping his knee.

Harley's head popped from around the corner of the cracked wall, pigtails swinging with every movement she made. With one look at you, she was rushing over.

"Puddin, what happened?" She practically squealed, ushering you to stand up, though the small smile never left her lips. "Oh dear, let's get you all nice and cleaned up!"

The bathroom that she had practically dragged you into smelt of urine and had broken tiles scattered across the floor. Mold was growing along the ceiling and puddles of water crowded at the base of the sink. You had to hold back the look of disgust when Harley took a small rag and wet it under some water.

It wasn't long until Harley was finally finished with dabbing your split lip with the cold water and tending to the few cuts you had littered over your flesh. It was a poorly done job, but the moment you had got to step into your own small room - a storage space that barely managed to fit the worn mattress you used to sleep on, you were instantly flopping down.

It was quiet and dark, but nothing that you weren't already used to. You enjoyed having some time away from the two clowns, after all.

Looking over, you reached for the same small bear that you've kept over the years, only now it wasn't as soft as it used to be, and the familiar smell of your old home was gone from the fur. Instead, it was now covered in dirt and grime. A button had been sewn on poorly as an eye after the last had fallen off, and its right arm was barely hanging on by a thread. Still, you carefully held it against your body as you laid on your side, alone and tense.

Your mind refused to settle, thoughts swarming with the Robin boy who had managed to make your night go from alright to horrific in only a few hours.

He had outplayed you - tricked you - and still somehow, he had managed to get your mind swimming. Your fight was oddly thrilling, and it confused you with his cocky comments. Batman was nowhere to be seen, meaning that Robin had let you go. Why?

Your knuckles had tightened their hold on the bear, a reminder of your life before any of this had happened. You didn't dwell on it, knowing that there was no way back. But the sadness lingered once you buried your face into the soft fur, allowing for the sleep to catch up to you. As usual it was never a peaceful one, but instead filled with nightmares and an all too familiar wide grin.

@annabellelee @stormz369

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

DC Masterlist

Published:

Jason Todd -

Withered Cards (Series)

More like Angels

Dick Grayson -

Sweet Like Candy

Work In Progress:

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Withered Cards | II

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

The buzz of the flickering lamppost was almost tantalizing, the dimmed lights making all shadows look as though they were creeping closer from within the dark alleys of Gotham. Your feet were light and silent as you moved along the narrow path, wet from the rain that was beginning to sprinkle down. Broken glass crunched beneath your boots, and you cringed at the loud sound before taking a quick glimpse around. Nobody was here, besides the occasional drunk man stumbling across the street, too lost in his thoughts and large swigs to be paying attention.

The distant sound of sirens wailed throughout the night, and as the rain began to slightly pour down harder and soak your jacket, the cool breeze upon the wet fabric caused for you to shiver.

You almost wished that you could have been back at the lair.

Almost.

Your earpiece cackled to life, and a familiar voice spoke, "Well? Is he there yet!?" The joker groaned into your ear, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes and give a snarky comment.

Glancing out the dark alley you were currently hidden within, the shadows covering your form almost completely, you leant against the wall impatiently.

"No, he's not."

"Oh, fucken shit face!" He let out a loud agitated laugh. "Can't people ever do anything right?"

You glanced down at the wristwatch the Joker had insisted that you wore for his own reasoning, poorly looked after, but still useable. The glass of the watch was scratched and cracked in most places, and the leather strapping on your wrist was barely still attached.

3:43am.

You had been waiting thirteen minutes too long.

Your patience was already beginning to thin; due to the cold weather or the agitating voice speaking in your ear, you weren't sure.

Movement from the corner of your eye quickly caught your attention, and a man emerged from behind the flickering lamp post, his face shadowed as he bowed his head. You recognized him to be the one Joker had sent for you to meet, Dr. Grinvield. A white lab coat draped around his thin frame, gray hair thinning and glasses propped on the bridge of his nose. You noticed a thin scar trailing down his brow almost like a strike of lighting

You frowned, noticing a second man at his side. Tall and buff, with a gun held steadily at his side. You felt unease, and you hesitated to move out from the shadows to reveal yourself.

"Don't be shy, my little clown, go ahead," the Joker giggled into your ear, and you realized that you must have spoken aloud. "A big man holding a gun has never stopped you before now, has it?"

A pause, and when his voice came back, it was free of any humor.

"Just get the job done."

Inhaling a breath, you brushed off the nerves and stepped out from the shadows of the dark alley, your hand resting against your belt that gleamed the blade of your knife.

Upon hearing the gravel crunch beneath your feet, the two men turned quickly to face you, gun cocked in your direction.

Dr. Grinvield slapped the man, eyes wide in horror at the gun pointed toward you. "You fool! You kill her, then were both dead," he hissed, yellow teeth flashing from under his thin, pale lips.

By the time you were now stood in front of them, you took your time in scanning the two. Nothing threatening, to you, at least. Just two silly men trapped within in the Joker's deeds.

"I'd prefer if you came on time, next time," you spoke, eyeing the two. "And alone. The Joker never agreed to you have a little bodyguard."

The Jokers clear instructions played on repeat in your head; Meet Dr. Grinvield. Get the vial. Get out. No distractions, and no plan changing.

With a gruff sigh, Grinvield dug into the small of his pocketed lab coat, fishing out a tiny vial with a thick, dark liquid. What it was, however, you weren't sure. Nor did you care enough to ask.

You were aware the Joker had been planning something deadly, but you knew better than to ask. Perhaps another laughing gas or toxin.

He held it carefully within his palm, almost afraid of any immediate movement he made. He dropped it into your palm, gaze trailed on the sloshing liquid. He paused.

"Now, kid, you must remind the boss that this is only a prototype. It shouldn't be used until I've completely figured out the biochemical formulations and timely affect, but so far, it's what he's asked for."

You nodded, examining the small vial before slipping it into your boot securely.

"Tampering with it will ruin the formula," he continued. "But by the next few weeks, everything should hopefully be running on schedule. Just let the boss know-"

He was abruptly cut off by a nearby clang of metal, the sound echoing off the nearby walls.

You felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand, and you were quick to look around the dark deserted street. Nobody was in sight, but you did feel the lingering gaze of eyes watching somewhere nearby.

You frowned, taking one last glance at the two men before taking off into a quick sprint. You weren't in the mood to put up with any more people, and you most definitely were not in the mood to bump into Batman.

The familiar bat signal glowed brightly in the dark sky, glaring down at you like a taunting reminder. You could only hope that it wasn't him who so happened to stumble upon you just two seconds ago. Yet, something told you that you had yet to be completely alone.

You could hear the faint shouts of Dr. Grinvield cursing out to you for leaving him there, a pathetic whine as he practically dragged his 'friend' along with him.

Rain started to trickle down more until you were almost completely drenched, but despite the sounds of the rain dripping down, you could hear the growing steps of somebody behind you, and you felt your heart rate increase.

They were running.

Running toward you. And fast.

Picking up your speed, you refused to look back. You were panting and squinting from the water blurring your vision under your mask, still conscious of the chaser behind you. You quickly turned a corner and stopped, reaching for your knife hoping that you were a few seconds ahead of them. You clasped your knife tightly within your grasp, adjusting your grip when both the water and the sweat from your palms made your grip falter. You waited, waited for the attacker to come sprinting around the corner, but it never came.

It was like anticipating a jump scare in a movie; waiting for the moment the killer jumps out and attacks within mere seconds...

Perhaps you had lost them.

“Unfortunately, you might need to try a little harder to rid me, Sweets,” a voice called, and you internally groaned once you had realized that you had not in fact lost them, but instead let your guard down for a moment too long.

You turned to see a boy who couldn’t be much older than you by the looks of it, despite the black domino mask hiding his identity. He was clad in a yellow cape, red tunic and green pants. You had to stifle down the smile creeping up onto your face. The evident ‘R’ printed on his chest told you exactly who this was.

“Robin,” you greeted with a mocking bow. Though you had never met before, you had seen and heard countless times of how the Batman had trained a new Robin to take over from Nightwing. So far, you knew nothing of his weaknesses.

“I didn’t know you were waiting to see me. I feel so rude for leaving early,” you faked a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

Your heart was practically pounding in your chest. Surely if he was here, Batman would be lurking too, would he not?

Robin only shook his head, reaching for his bo-staff that was at his back. He twirled it in his grasp - experienced and practiced.

“Unfortunately, I'm not here to chat," Robin spoke, inching closer with a look that you couldn't quite place. Was it excitement? Nerves? Adrenaline?

You shrugged, readying your stance the longer the anticipation dragged. You just managed to catch the small smirk cornering on his lips.

It wouldn't be there for too long.

He was quick to move on his feet, swooping down and swinging his leg and knocking you off your balance. You grunted from the impact as your back clashed with the concrete floor, small pieces of smashed up glass, most likely from one of the drinkers, dug into your back and suit.

You raised your gun, kicking Robin off you and aimed, only for him to knock it out from your hand. You raised your other hand, clenched into a fist and punched. Hard. Kicking your knee up into the back of his knee, he doubled over off balance.

"Damn," you heard him groan, his hand moving away from his face to see the trail of blood trickling from his nose. "You know how to punch."

You went in for another one, only for his hand to stop yours mid swing, but you were quick to kick his stomach and push him down to the floor, his cheek pressed against the cold cement as you heard him groan in pain.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" You shot, your voice dripping in sarcasm the longer you had him pinned beneath you.

You just managed to catch sight of his jaw clenching at the comment, but you were quickly distracted once he managed to wrestle his way out from under the weight of your body, tossing a small ball-like object at your feet. A thick fog clouded your vision in mere seconds. You coughed as the smoke entered your lungs, your hand waving around to try clear an airway, but you gasped once a leg swung beneath you, knocking you off your feet and to land on the wet cement floor with a grunt.

You winced when your tailbone landed on the floor, but you ignored the pain. You needed to get this boy away somehow.

You looked over, seeing your gun just a few feet away, but Robin's hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged you toward him, your chin smacking hard against the floor. He was quick to hover above you just as you had done before, your arms held down by his own.

You grunted in an attempt to kick him off, but he held firm and frowned down upon you. "What's this?" He questioned, a certain tease to his voice that made your blood boil. His hand went to the left side of your face, and you flinched back as his fingers effortlessly removed your earpiece.

He turned it over in his hand, before hovering it over your face with a cocky smirk.

What a prick.

"Did I disturb an important chat?"

Baring your teeth, you flung your head forward into his, using that as the upper hand to kick him off your body and stand shakily onto your feet. You watched as he stumbled to get up, but quickly regained himself.

You let out a tired breath.

“Just give up,” he said, nodding his head toward you. “Seems like somebody needs a break, I can tell.”

“Do I?” You glared, before lunging once again, your arms grabbing around his torso to try getting him on his back again, but he held his stance firm. He knew it was coming.

His own arms wrapped around you and spun you around so that your back was to his chest, his arms pinning yours down at your sides. You twisted in his grip, but it only caused for the both of you to drop to the floor.

Then he laughed.

He laughed.

Your head spun so fast you swore it could’ve flown off, and you glared behind you as you watched Robin try to stifle the evident smirk across his face.

“Your laughing?” You grunted. "Is this a joke to you?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, I’m laughing at the fact that I have had you distracted this whole time," he cracked a smile before releasing you, giving a small bow as he began to walk back.

You frowned, confused. “What?”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, trouble! Nothing to worry your little head off, for now.” With a last glance, he grabbed his grappling hook and took off, leaving you confused and drenched.

Surely he couldn't have actually just taken off? There was absolutely no way he would have left you, a criminal, after a tiny fight? Surely, he would have tried to call the Bats, the police maybe, or even hold you hostage and torture questions out of you!

Your confusion only grew the longer you stood in your place, and it was once you had glanced down at the fallen earpiece on the ground that you remembered what you were here for.

You grabbed your gun and the dropped ear comm, taking one last glance over to the place you'd last seen him, and you ran.

@annabellelee

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Harry Potter Masterlist

Published:

Mattheo Riddle -

Interlinked

Work In Progress:

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Anakin Skywalker Headcanons

Anakin Skywalker who is absolutely obsessed with your scent. Whenever you’re walking past, he’s unintentionally following the aroma of your perfume.

Anakin Skywalker who needs to be touching you whenever you’re asleep together side by side. Ever since his nightmares started about his mum, he needs to know you’re there by his side. That he won’t lose you too.

Anakin Skywalker who loves to show off to you. Whether it’s when you so happen to be nearby during training with Obi-Wan, or even something as simple as making sneaky comments about his success to you about being the chosen one…

Anakin Skywalker loves to watch you. As weird as it sounds, he loves watching your flow and how you move throughout the house.

Anakin Skywalker who seriously debated leaving the Jedi order for you. Of course he never mentioned it to you, but the thought played on his mind like a plague. You would be able to be together with nothing in your way.

Anakin Skywalker who comes up from behind you when you’re busy brushing your hair, his fingers gently moving your hair from one shoulder to the other and grazing his lips along your flesh. He would pepper your skin in his kisses and meet your gaze in the mirror.

Anakin Skywalker would definitely find any excuse to come back to Coruscant early from a mission purely just to see you.

Anakin Skywalker would bring back another one of his little creations, watching with love struck eyes as you eagerly gleamed at the necklace he had made for you. He would help to clip it around your neck, lingering his touch on your skin.

Anakin Skywalker easily gets distressed. Wether it be because of the order or because of something completely irrelevant, but when you see him sitting hunched on your shared couch, brows drawn in a tight frown, your presence is enough to ease his mind. He won’t tell you what’s bothering him most of the time, but he will always reassure you that everything is fine.

18+ MDNI

Anakin Skywalker who loves the euphoric feeling of sinking into you. He can’t help the long, breathy moan he lets out with every inch that slides into your core. He loves the way he can feel the flutter of your cunt, clenching him like a vice.

Anakin Skywalker who will comb through your soft hair with every thrust, his gaze never leaving the awestruck look you gave him…

Anakin Skywalker drowns in the sound of your voice, moaning his name into his ear. It’s a melody he wishes to hear forever if he could, and it sends shocks of pleasure right down to his cock.

Anakin Skywalker who doesn’t even register his on coming orgasm, your body pressed flush against his and your plush thighs wrapped tightly around his waist. He doesn’t waste anytime in shooting his load inside you, marking you as his.

Anakin Skywalker who loves you too much to let you go. You didn’t want to join him in the dark side? Too bad. He wouldn’t , couldn’t, let anybody take you from him. He needed you, and you needed him.

Anakin Skywalker who hated to see you cry, your please for him to come back to the light only went out the other ear. This was what was best for you. Couldn’t you see that? He would hold you to him and hush your cries, but you would only sob louder when he denied ever leaving the dark side. This was how it had to be from now on.

Anakin Skywalker knows you love him too much to leave. Even trapped underneath him, with his lips on yours, you couldn’t help but to show the same affection. He was still your Ani.

Anakin Skywalker who could now be with you. Protect you. Love you better than he ever did. Anakin loved you more than anything, and he would never hesitate to rid of anything that threatened to take you from him.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Sweet Like Candy

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader.

Warning: MDNI, Oral (F receiving), fingering, swearing, masked Dick.

Summary: Nightwing might just think you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

"I didn't think you'd come," you breathed as Nightwing's lips traveled from the nape of your neck down to your collar bone, your head tilting to allow him more access to your skin that he practically devoured.

He pressed a few more open kisses to your flesh, leaving marks in his wake before he pulled back slightly, a dazed look to his gaze despite the mask.

"How could I miss this opportunity?" Just as quickly, he was back to kissing you. "You taste so good."

The cool night breeze caused for goosebumps to litter your skin, and sitting on a rooftop of Gotham city with Nightwing was not exactly ideal, but in the current moment you couldn't care.

Your breaths became more irregular, and gently Nightwing pushed you onto your back, hands beside your head as he sucked at your neck some more.

"Relax," he trailed, hands running along your body. You gasped as his hand squeezed at one of your breasts, before he began to go down your body.

You lifted your head, eyeing him curiously when he gave you a small smirk, his black mask staring back at you. His gloved hands worked at your pants effortlessly, pulling them off along with your panties and throwing them off to the side, forgotten.

When he made no movement, you attempted to close your legs from the outside breeze and his burning gaze, but his arms were quickly pushing at the plush of your thighs, keeping them apart.

He clicked his tongue. "Keep 'em open, pretty girl," he whispered, your bare pussy only mere inches from his face. "Let me have a taste."

You let out a moan when you felt his warm tongue lay flat against your cunt, sliding up and collecting all your juices onto his tongue. Your fingers racked through his hair harshly, and you swore you may have even pulled some of his hair out, but it didn't seem to bother him too much. He was lapping at your pussy eagerly, and you let out a curse when his lips latched onto your clit. He gave it a small suck.

"Oh my god," your back arched up, trying to keep you as close to him as possible, but he only let out a chuckle that vibrated throughout your body. You shivered from the vibrations of pleasure it sent.

"So sweet," he mumbled against you.

He was slurping at your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue fucking into you and swirling around. You already declared that this was better than what any man has ever given you. Your slick was coating his mouth and chin, though he pulled back and inhaled a large chunk of air.

"You taste fucking delicious," he breathed, staring your pussy down as his fingers came up to toy with your clit. You let out another moan and resisted the urge to close your legs.

He pinched and swirled at it teasingly, one of his fingers eventually dipping into you and curving upward, hitting your g-spot. His finger slid in and out, in and out. Then a second finger. In and out, in and out.

Your hands were desperately searching for anything to stable themselves against, since now you didn't have his hair to tug on. In the end, the only thing you could grasp onto was his left arm that was holding your leg down. Nightwing glanced up and gave another one of his charming smirks.

Although you and Nightwing have had these reoccurring 'meetups' many times before, you never asked the lingering question you wished to ask him when he was pleasuring you.

"Wha-" you were cut off by a strangled moan, and you tried again despite the coursing pleasure building in your lower stomach. "What's your name?"

You wanted to scream it, to moan it, you needed to have him.

His mask only shook back at you. "Nothing you need to know right now, my love," he delved down to suckle at your clit again, and the buildup was finally beginning to become too much for you to handle.

Your breaths were erratic, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Nightwing loved the sight, your body adorned and glowing in your sweat and your glistening pussy presented just for him. All him.

With a few more pumps of his fingers and a particularly harsh suck to your swollen clit, your orgasm washed over you in a massive wave. Your thighs shook and overstimulation was all you could feel when Nightwing was collecting your last few juices on his tongue, swallowing eagerly.

You were definitely right. Nightwing was the best pleasure anybody could've given you.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.