Author's note: I don't even know it this turn down okay or not, all my ability to write seems to have left me after months of writing block :P
A fighter.
That's the word first sprung to his mind if he ever needed to described her. She had been, and would always be, a fighter. Her physique used to have him fooled, as it did to others around her the day their paths crossed, the day a glorious chapter of their life began unfolding. So delicate, so slightly built, so close to the point of bone and skin. Her movements showed the grace and agility needed for their line of work, but that did nothing in altering his impression of her ill-fitting physique – she belonged behind their protection like the rest of the petrified civilians when the city was under attack, not on the battlefield, up against ruthless foes.
Until the moment her eyes brightened with destructive magic, and her voice called forth a dark maelstrom to pulverize all that dared to condemn her. The flimsy pale fingers that he thought would snap in one single blow from an average villain of Jump crackled with power beyond his comprehension. It was the day he saw for himself the fortitude underneath that fragile front, the day he understood for the first time that her spirit wouldn't break, would never give up on fighting despite confronting threats she stood no chance of triumphing over.
His Raven was a fighter, the walls of his mind were encrypted with that discovery even when years had gone by. Somehow that's one of the final pieces of memory he kept holding on after those beautiful days crumbled like the sand of time, trampled by an upheaval that whisked it all away before he knew what was coming, and a new age emerged from the toppled wreckage.
The past and the presence braided into each other in Nightwing's head. Images smashed against each other one by one, his former life repeating itself right before his very eyes in snippets, visible just long enough to stir some memories in the back of his mind then faded away without a trace.
The color of violet was in all of them. That lovely and exquisite color that he had grown to be enamored with. It filled his head with a voice from his past. A voice that was forever wry, forever undisturbed, yet so tender and caring at specific times…
Oh wait, not forever wry anymore, it seemed.
Propping his head up on the closed fingers of one large hand, the other tilting a crystal glass half-filled with ruby-colored liquor around – only enough for the drink to slightly touch the edge but not sloshing out – the dark-haired man centered his gaze on the one-of-a-kind show staged just for him a few feet away. The cold amusement in the cobalt blue of his eyes was a stark contrast to the crimson bird spreading its wings across his broad chest, but the depth of them held an inferno that flared just as intensely.
"How's it over there, Raven? I take it that you're having a good time?"
He was responded with an unintelligible sound, but his trained ears could pick up the cracks in her voice. A grin crept itself across his lips, giving him a look of a predator after a successful hunt, having retreated back to the lair to relish in the reward of his hard work.
His Raven was a fighter, one that couldn't be tamed, one whose spirit was a neverending flame even in situations where all hope had fled, where her pride was in shreds. He knew she hadn't changed just one bit when his gaze met hers. Though the tears and humiliation had obscured the gem-like violet, the fury beneath them all was threatening to roar alive and burn him to ash. Nightwing inched forward, wanting to witness the grand moment when it dwindled and fear began pouring in, but the girl had already tossed her head aside, her lithe body tensed up as a scream travelled the length of her throat, only to bounce against tape on her mouth and fell back down.
He knew neither it was an attempt to deny him of the sight, nor was it a display of hostility. She simply did what a woman would do in response to his idea of a fun time together, protesting in defiance, pushing back the urge to let her voice be heard, didn't want a man like him to take pleasure in her desperate sound.
The young sorceress tried to pull herself free from the power-control materials securing her body into a very… suggestive position that she was by no means happy about. She was positioned on a couch, strapped to it against her will, with her legs pushed wide apart so that the most private area between them was a presenting scene for all in the room. Both her calves had been bound to her thighs, and then her hands soon joined them when they were restrained to her ankles. Even her waist wasn't spared the treatment as there was a strap wrapping around her midsection before encircling the couch for good measure. No clothes, not even the panties to hold together the last meager of her dignity. She remembered the burning humiliation and shame upon bearing witness to the sight of him lifting the garment to his nose and breath it in with the ardor of a person knowing fresh air for the very first time. She remembered cursing at him using the loudest tone she could manage, spewing threats and all, only to earn back a tight gag on the mouth, and a horrible punishment buckled to her leg, marking the start of her worst nightmare.
Its round head pressed down hard against the bare skin of her entrance, forcing a torturous amount of vibration onto the sensitive nerves between her legs. The long handle was strapped to her left thigh, ensuring that she couldn't get away no matter how violent her escape attempts were.
Raven knew what would be awaiting her when her world suddenly went black and she came into wakefulness tied in the same room with the worst traitor in the Titans' history, But out of all the torment she expected to be consigned to, she never believed he was insane enough to include anything sexual.
The intensity of the stimulation and the foreign sensations it plunged her into were driving all her calm nature away. It took all her remaining power not to scream, to grant him the satisfaction of seeing her coming undone. As hard as she tried, the helpless heroine couldn't bite back all the reluctant sounds as she struggled to rip the sinister item from her crotch. It was impossible, however. The way all those straps hold her limbs down only allowed so much movement, giving her no choice but to endure the rhythmic turns on her privates. A fire was there, building up from the throbbing flesh between her dripping folds – oh God don't make her think of the pool down there – flickering around the tender inner flesh before rising to the pit of her stomach. The heat from that had already stained her pale skin in a flush of hot color, simmering the inside of her skin until perspiration left her body all clammy and dirty, as though she hadn't already felt dirty enough.
His eyes were on her, the curves of her body, the skin she never let any living man see, let alone touching or playing with. Raven couldn't masquerade behind her cold façade anymore, the fact that he was piercing her with his stare, leering at her like a piece of meat and assessing places that he would soon reward himself with the pleasure of tastinghad torn it apart like a sharp blade. Used. Humiliated. Defiled. Those emotions came together and threw her heart down a bottomless pit, each screaming in her ears for her to do something, yet none could point her a way toward freedom.
Tears of frustration and unwillingness brimmed her eyes, and at this point, she had no idea how long she could hold them back…
Nightwing couldn't resist the run of his eager tongue across his lips at the glorious show his Raven was putting on. His endless hours of picking up and putting down all the toys then considering their stimulation level didn't disappoint at all. He could never get bored with her, the spams that rocked her little form, the violet strand that clung to her forehead and shoulder when her body twisted in that erotic strap prison, the cute curls of her toes when the pleasure became unable to deny. Her respire had gone from rapid breaths to panting, pushing the toned stomach down until her delicate ribcage was briefly in view before letting it rise up again. He found his mouth watered – oh how he longed to pepper kisses on that greyish creamy skin again, sinking his teeth in hard enough to create marks while her cries orchestrating an enticing symphony to him. In hindsight, the fight she put on when he ate her right on that couch was quite a memory. He had ducked his head, slowly and steadily so that the realization of what would happen hit her just in time, until all that was in her line of sight were tousles of indigo hair. The sweetness that danced on his tongue when the pale beauty writhed and screamed out her objection, followed by her threats, that she would make him pay, that her friends, their friends, were on their way and he would never live to see daylight again had created quite a tightness in his pant, and something told him that it wouldn't soften down anytime soon.
Her sounds escalated little by little when his fingers dug into her hips, and she was too powerless to shake the grip free. Threats turned into stifled grunts, and drawn-out groans, and then all those could escaped her lips were frantic screams. He thought he saw a silent plea in her lovely violet eyes before rage took over them. A wicked glint flashed through Nightwing's vibrant blue eyes, his fantasies weren't as easy to control as they were now that their main subject was in sight. He quickly lifted the glass up to lubricate his now hoarse an drained throat with a mouthful of premium wine. Patient, he told himself. He had all the time could ask for to play with her.
"MGHH! NGHHHH!"
Another smirk pulled up Nightwing's lips as he eyed his former teammate, already reduced to a helpless little bird, her cold demeanor and her strong will as a proud, notable crimefighter splintered beyond belief. Her skin had lost the pallid shade, repainted by the prettiest tint of pink he had ever seen in his entire life. Those delicate cheeks had the honor of bearing the deepest shade, reddening them, erasing all the grey, until all he could think of was ripe fruit. Would they taste just as tantalizing, he wondered?
She was gasping, and panting, throwing her head back and revealing her slender neck to him, violet strands fell on her shoulder as her movements sent them around. Yeah, he could see it with ease, her defenses were crumbling. His lustful eyes fell on the sways of her round breasts, bouncing in that mesmerizing rhythm her thrashing torso created, the darker peaks hardened by the arousal pumping through her veins. Raven doesn't have the most ideal figure, this he admitted. Among all the attractive women he had the chance to meet in his life, she was merely a weed lost in a garden of roses.
Yet this was what drew him to her. She fitted so perfectly in the curvature of him arm with her small figure, she stood no chance of winning against him when the dark magic she depended on was no longer here. And those C-cupped breasts? The finest snacks he could find. The carnal desired burned in his eyes as he remembered how he effortlessly took the whole of her creamy mounds into his mouth one by one, while his fingers snaked under her to toy with the softest of skin there. Getting her in the right mood. Setting up a fire from within her. Teaching that innocent girl what it's like to be a woman. Oh the confusion and apprehension that clouded her widened eyes, the endless questions spilled from her plump lips, and then they're all replaced by fear and screams…
The sudden ache in his crotch yanked him back from the ecstatic recollection and to reality. He breathed out an airy chuckle, finally noticing that his pants were becoming more and more restrictive with each passing second. The thought of the writhing, moaning woman trapped in intense, inescapable pleasure across the room was awakening the beast inside him, a throbbing, needy beast. Her hot, trembling, reluctant sounds excited it, bringing it to life, bringing him to life.
Was it the right time yet, he wondered. His curious stare rose to refocus on her once more, in the middle of her preparation in order to be perfect for their first night. Oh his poor Raven seemed so flustered and desperate now with the way her small body slid down and all but collapsed into the seat cushion like a wing-clipped bird. The strap wrapping around her waist was the only reason why she had yet to be on the floor, although he doubted it would stay on for much longer with all the sweat pooling underneath. The transparent sheen left behind by those transparent drops brightened her greyish complexion. For a moment he thought she was glowing.
Her short violet hair was a bird nest now, wayward strands poking in every possible directions, some draping across her pink-ish cheeks, and he found himself snickering slightly at Raven's rare unceremonious moment. The room was already filled with her harsh, loud panting, after every minute he would hear a loud, devastated sob. Would her lungs give out soon? Her breathing was putting a strain on them, he was sure of it.
Pretending not to see the dwindling heat directing at him in her hazy, exhausted eyes, he allowed his eyes to head downward, passing the heaving valley of her breasts, the shivering skin of her smooth stomach, her silken legs, and then the delicious spot between them. The full sight was blocked by his little vibrating gift which was still busying driving her over the edge, but the mere amount of juice drenching her thighs and dripping onto the cushion told him that she was on the losing end of the battle. Her oversensitive privates must be demanding for some attention, some love right now, demanding the true feeling that outside stimulation from the buzzing could never give.
"How many time did you cum, my dear?" He didn't expect an answer, honestly, it's impossible for her brain to process one when it had completely lost track of everything else. "I think about 5, or 6. Sorry but I didn't really keep count."
Raven had been strapped there for a little over an hour, and while he understood his welcome present for her had gone too far, considering she was a complete stranger to sexual experiments, he couldn't bring himself to care. The bird must learn her place, and that he wouldn't tolerate her foul language. A night in that very couch climaxing until her mind turned blank would make a fitting lesson.
But then his pants grew even tighter. There was a flash of pain, and he knew his plan was doomed for the night. There was no way he would tolerate himself if he passed up on this opportunity to examine her feminity thoroughly.
Pulling himself to a stand, Nightwing made his way towards the bound bird. She was back to struggling as much as her restrains allowed now, and he could tell that she was building up once more the way she twisted herself into visually appealing positions and cried in her loudest tone into her gag.
"Mghhhh! GHHHHH! MGHHHHH!"
Twitch. Convulse. Her muscles tensed up. Her head flew backward as she shut her eyes. And nirvana was her destination.
"My poor little birdie." He taunted her in a mockery of sympathy, kneeling down so that their gaze was on the same level. Raven flinched upon hearing his voice. She instinctively moved backward, aligning herself with the couch when fear quaked her entire body. Yeah, fear, he knew she was afraid, even when she would never said that aloud. The glint in her tearful eyes had betrayed her no matter how hard she tried to maintain that infamous dagger glare.
"Behave yourself." His voice lowered into a husky tone, a dark desire stained the azure shade of his eyes into something sinful. A warning. And the young woman tried to suppress a shudder, but failed miserably. Her defiant, reddened eyes pierced at him, drilling into him as if challenging his authority once again, but the continuous stimulation ended her attitude within seconds. Her strength crumbled, the courage she mustered died out, and the dark girl bowed her beautiful head, trembling. A soft, pleading sound made its way into his ears not so long afterwards.
"Good girl." Nightwing let out a hum of approval, gently patting the sorceress's head, what a pleased owner would do to their obedient pet. His fingers weaved themselves into her violet hair, the softness of her locks felt great on his wiry, calloused skin. He gently stroke them, moving his hand through them all in a soothing pattern while he turned off the vibrator and unclasped the strap grinding it to her crotch, then the one securing her to the couch. Raven's body leaned forward and all but slump over him as gravity pulled her down, her intimate time with his now favorite device had drained the last bit of energy. It would be a miracle if she managed to have any coherent thought at this moment.
He readjusted their position so that the women could rest her head on his shoulder while he worked on the bond behind her back. The thrumming of her pulses was no longer hard to feel now that her delicate neck was flushed against him. So frantic. Why hadn't her palpitating heart overworked itself already?
"Up you go."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and effortlessly picked her weightless form from the couch, already resettled her wrists into a new set of handcuff. Raven tugged against them, moving herself from left to right and swung her legs slightly - the exhaustion down there hadn't give them time to recover. Fury twisted her pretty face as she made a sound that he believed was her best attempt at a snarl. It amazed him that there was still some fight left within her at this point.
Three long strides, and he was back to the luxurious king-sized bed on which he sat to behold her erotic dance earlier. His lips locked themselves around the dark mounds of her breasts as he lowered her down, earning himself a scream of distress from the powerless sorceress. Her voice was loud enough to burn her own throat and etched into it a stinging sensation that wouldn't go away until days to come.
A victorious smirk crept across his lips as he now roamed his hands on the creamy curves making up her body, squeezing the full breasts, toying with her nipples, enjoying the goosebumps coaxed to life in the wake of his exploration. Occasionally, he would held her down with one hand to grind the other against the wetness between her lithe legs, flicking her already engorged clit, massaging the lovely folds, just for the joy of seeing terror rising in her violet eyes, as she had no choice but to lie there and endure it all.
"Yeah, you're loving this, aren't you? My little bird can't get enough, right? Say it, Raven, you want me. Say it and I'll give you what no man can ever give you."
"You're so damned wet, you want more, don't you?"
"Enough with those lies, I see it in your eyes, you don't want me to stop."
He would remove the gag, temporarily, peeling it off from one corner to listen for himself what her creative mind had in response to his vile taunt. Sometimes it would be an infuriating "Fuck you" before she lost her voice to the broken moan the moment he slipped his fingers into her and teased her inner flesh. Sometimes she would pour into his ear one of those typical hero lectures, about "punishments", "you'll have to pay" and "I'll get you for this", then he would silence her by merely grasping her face and plunging his tongue into her mouth, and would granted her an orgasm using his other hand if he was in the mood. Sometimes, he would go down on her, licking her clean, just to see her legs pushing into the mattress futilely around him. She would scream until her voice dried out, and shed those lovely tears, but she never learned. Or perhaps she didn't want to surrender and give him the satisfaction.
She reminded him so much of those days after being accused of a betrayal he never knew about and pushed into the hands of the nemesis.
He's curious as to how long she would last compared to him in those dark moments.
Licking away the tears flowing from Raven's weary eyes, turning a blind eye to the panicked curses when he spilled some of her nectar on those round, flustered cheeks, Nightwing couldn't help but link her situation to his.
She should be thankful that he was the one servicing her instead of the other way around.
He clapped the tape back onto her mouth, preventing her from verbalizing her thoughts any further. She snarled at him despite it, despite all her pants and huffs, and fear from being violated over and over again, she still found it within her to rebel. How cute.
And naive.
Did she really think acting brave would somehow scare him off for her to regain her freedom?
His Raven still had so much to learn.
Nightwing mused to himself, pushing her violet hair aside to bend down and mark her pale neck, hard. Trailing a series of hot, open-mouth kisses down to her chest, he repeated the action on her right breast, this time made sure to sink his teeth in deep enough to draw blood, eliciting a loud yelp of pain from the helpless woman. Spasm was rocking her entire body, and it seemed that she would slip into unconsciousness at any second, she was at her limit already.
Time for the final blow.
The dark-haired man climbed onto his captive, straddling her petite form so that she could sense for herself the hardened bulge in his pants. It was killing him, the boiling desire was eating him alive. He wanted to wait for the cracks in her mask to show themselves, for her to beg at his feet, for her to give up her fight before granting her the pleasure of the flesh, but one more minute and he would be driven insane.
His pants were on the floor in a blink of an eye.
Raven protested through both her voice and action, but her sounds were many levels toned down by the thick tape pressing itself against her lips. When she first found out about her predicament and what he planned to do to her, she had cursed him with her entire vocabulary as best her gag would allow, but now she wasn't sure if that was just half an insult, or a plea for mercy. Her brain was so muddled to decide.
Nightwing didn't even need to stroke himself, the fun he had with her proved more helpful than anything else. His carnal desire came alive in his eyes, looking at her as though she was no more than a meal to quench its hunger, and Raven tried to inch further from him. It was too late, though. His legs came down on hers, locking her in place, while his hands lifted her hips and thrust himself into her bit by bit.
Raven was shaking her head from side to side, the muffled 'No!" fell from her sealed lips like it had become her new mantra, but that did nothing in stirring his compassion. She could practically hear the skin and flesh on her hips scream when his fingers dug into them, too powerless to shake the grip free. New tears of shame mixed with fear stung her eyes when her flesh clenched around him in an attempt to deny him of entrance, followed by unbearable pain when he pushed through it all in a rough movement.
The sounds of her scream were punching directly into his ears. He was hurting his Raven, he was well aware of that, but he couldn't help the sick satisfaction in the depth of his heart. Once he had showered her with gentleness, with care, he knew that she wasn't familiar with emotions themselves, and that a confession would be too much for her to process, so he simply watched over her from a distance, protecting her from the danger of the world in silence.
Despite his paranoid nature, he was willing to give her his trust no matter what happened.
Only to be returned with her cold accusation and betrayal when he needed her the most.
The Titans would pay, the hero system would pay, anyone who wronged him before would pay, he would make sure of that.
They all would pay, and she was no exception.
If she had heartlessly threw him out of her life, and he would reenter it as heartlessly.