Titans After Dark: Beneath the Flicker

Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are aged up to 18 or older, regardless of their ages in the original source material. All encounters portrayed are consensual. This work is a piece of fanfiction, intended for entertainment purposes only, and does not reflect the canon of the original story. Content is created for an adult audience (18+) and may include mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

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The Tower was dead quiet tonight. Cyborg had left for Steel City three days ago, chasing a tech-smuggling operation that had him muttering about “amateur hour criminals” before he flew out. His workshop sat empty, tools scattered where he’d dropped them. Robin and Starfire had slipped out around seven, claiming dinner plans. Raven had seen them by the elevator—Robin’s hand on Starfire’s lower back, Starfire beaming like a star as she laughed at his whisper. A quiet ache squeezed her chest, softened by Starfire’s warmth, her joy a quiet jab. She’d tried reading, but the words blurred after an hour.

“Yo, Raven!” Beast Boy’s voice cut through from the common room, where he’d been channel-surfing on the big TV, its light flickering across his green skin. “You gonna stare at that book all night, or what? Wanna catch a late movie downtown? Loosen up, Rae.”

Raven glanced up. “I’m reading.” Her voice was low, edged with unease.

“Uh-huh. Same page for twenty minutes?” He twisted on the couch, grinning. “How’s that working out?”

She snapped the book shut. “I don’t do fun.”

“Right, ‘cause moping in a creepy tower’s way better.” Beast Boy hopped over the couch back. “It’s just us tonight. One movie, your pick. I’ll spring for the overpriced theater confectionery snacks. Deal?”

The Tower’s silence felt heavy, daring her to break it. Starfire’s words from weeks ago echoed, gifting her that white sundress: “most joyous to embrace new experiences, yes?” Raven had scoffed then, but with Robin gone, the words felt like a jab. “Fine,” she said, standing, cloak billowing. “Ten minutes.”

Beast Boy’s face lit up. “Yes! I’m swapping this ratty T-shirt for real clothes. This’ll be awesome!” He bounded off.

In her room, Raven stared at her closet before pulling out Starfire’s white dress. It was simple—sleeveless, fitted at the waist, skirt hitting above her knees. The fabric was softer than her usual gear. She paused at her dresser, fingers brushing her usual tights. Screw it, she thought, Starfire’s words lingering: embrace new experiences. She skipped underwear, a quiet dare to herself, the dress’s fabric teasing her bare skin with a reckless thrill. In the mirror, her pale skin and dark hair looked alive, not primed for a dark ritual. Maybe Beast Boy’s dumb ideas weren’t always a total bust.

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The downtown theater’s neon sign buzzed against the night, its low hum echoing in the empty lobby. Raven picked a gothic horror flick, its grim tone matching her mood. The auditorium was nearly deserted, just a few shadows slouched in the back rows, far enough for privacy but close enough to keep her tense. She and Beast Boy grabbed front-row seats, the screen’s glow glinting off her white dress. The velvet seats were cold against her bare thighs, the air thick with stale popcorn.

Raven sat stiff, her dress’s hem riding up as she crossed her legs, the fabric tight against her curves. Beast Boy had insisted on a popcorn bucket, now balanced on her lap, its weight a weak shield against thoughts of Robin. He sprawled beside her, knee bumping hers, eyes drifting to her more than the screen. The movie’s creepy score kicked in, but her mind wandered, Robin’s laugh with Starfire looping in her head.

Beast Boy reached for popcorn, tossing a handful in his mouth, grinning like he’d pulled off a prank. Raven ignored him, staring at the screen, faking focus. As the movie’s scares built, his hand missed the bucket, landing firmly on her bare thigh where her dress had slipped. Her breath caught, the seat’s chill sharpening his touch. She froze, eyes forward, but heat flared low in her belly, her bare skin alive. No more pining, she thought, the moment daring her to act.

“Oops,” he said teasingly, fingers lingering, bold and unhurried. “You good, Rae?”

She didn’t answer, lips parting. A rustle from the back row pricked her ears, someone shifting. Starfire’s “embrace new experiences” echoed, nudging her past caution. “Beast Boy,” she muttered, voice sharp but curious, “watch your hands.”

“Just grabbing popcorn,” he said, grin audible, but his fingers traced a slow, deliberate line along her thigh, brushing the dress’s hem, teasing upward with care. The touch sent electric jolts through her, her core clenching, the seat’s coolness contrasting the fire spreading within.

His fingers grew bolder, slipping beneath the hem, expecting fabric but finding bare, slick skin. His breath hitched, a low hum escaping as he realized she’d forgone panties. The discovery sparked urgency, his fingers tracing her inner thigh, grazing the sensitive edge of her folds. “Garfield,” she breathed, his name a slip of intimacy, her voice thick with want. His touch stirred memories of Robin—rain-soaked alleys, his leather scent, their stolen moments in the shower’s steam—but Garfield’s earthy warmth grounded her in the now, her arousal undeniable.

His fingers parted her wet folds, stroking with slow, deliberate precision, her slickness coating him as he teased her clit, drawing a soft whimper. She muffled a gasp against her hand, her hips twitching involuntarily. His touch turned assertive, two fingers curling inside her, sliding through her drenched core with a rhythm that made her walls quiver, the friction igniting sparks. A whisper from the back row made her heart lurch, a silhouette shifting closer, still oblivious. Garfield paused, fingers buried deep, eyes locked on hers, a silent question. She nodded, urging him on, the risk sharpening her senses.

His free hand slid to her neck, thumb grazing her racing pulse, her lavender hair mingling with his earthy musk. Her hands grew bold, raking his chest under his shirt, drawing a groan. With urgency, she unzipped his jeans, fingers wrapping around his cock—stiff, green, pulsing, thick and hot in her grip, not as large as Robin’s but perfect now. The memory of Robin’s leather scent faded against Garfield’s warmth, her craving rooted in the moment.

Her strokes coaxed a stifled groan, his hips shifting as she savored his throbbing heat. The popcorn bucket tipped to the floor, forgotten, as she rose, pulse surging, the fire too fierce to wait. She eased into his seat, straddling him, her bare slit hovering above his cock. With a deft flick, she kicked off her heels, the soft clatter against the sticky floor a reckless surrender, her bare feet curling as she settled over him. The dress pooled around her thighs, glistening in the screen’s glow, the seat’s coolness stark against their heat. Raven guided his pulsing tip to rim her wet slit, each pass against her swollen clit a searing jolt, her slickness dripping onto him. This is the fire I craved, she thought, aching for the plunge.

“Rae,” he whispered, voice hoarse with reverence. His hands gripped her hips, but as she sank down, he tugged the dress’s bodice down, baring her breasts, nipples tightening in the cool air, and hitched the skirt above her hips, exposing her fully. Her lungs seized at the vulnerability, sweat catching the screen’s light, but the risk fueled her. “Garfield, make sure you pull out when it’s time,” she said, giving him a serious look that conveyed her intent, her voice low but firm, eyes locking with his to underscore her command.

“Yeah,” he groaned, distracted, his thought a rush of Can’t believe this is happening! as her slickness teased him. She sank down, her wet folds parting around his tip, the friction a scalding drag, her slickness easing the way as his thick length stretched her with a scorching surge. Each inch was exquisite torment, her drenched core clenching around him, the slide filling her with a throbbing fullness that made her gasp. Her walls gripped him, slick and tight, as she settled, the sensation overwhelming, her clit pulsing against his base.

Their rhythm was a dance, unhurried at first, savoring each other. Raven rolled her hips, keeping him deep, her slick walls milking him as she tilted for new angles, each spark of pleasure electric. Garfield matched her, thrusts teasing, slowing to make her chase him, then surging deep, his cock dragging against her sensitive spots, drawing moans. His hands roamed her breasts, pinching her nipples, amplifying her gasps. She sensed his cock twitch, his balls tightening, heavy with need, teetering on the edge of explosion. As her own peak coiled, her core fluttering, she stilled herself, entering a near-meditative state, her breathing slowing, walls clenching as she willed the pleasure to subside. “Hold on, don’t you dare cum yet,” she whispered, voice sharp and commanding, eyes piercing his with fierce intensity. A rustling seat from the back row sharpened the silence, amplifying the risk, but she held her control, his throbbing easing, control returning under her gaze. She resumed, her hips rocking with deliberate precision, building the tension in his balls, torturing the moment. She’s unraveling me, he thought, his groan stifled, his climax swelling, testicles full and throbbing, aching for release. They cycled through near-climaxes, her pauses prolonging the torment, each pause a calculated tease to stoke his need, her core clenching to draw out the fire.

Time slipped away, the movie’s plot a distant hum as they pushed the boundaries of restraint. Raven leaned back, her shoulder blades against his chest, hair brushing his chin, his breath hot on her neck. A sharp cough from the back row froze them mid-thrust, her core tightening, a silhouette shifting closer but remaining oblivious. Garfield’s grip steadied her, his cock throbbing inside, a silent reassurance. She nodded, urging him deeper, the risk sharpening every sensation.

As the movie’s score swelled, signaling its final chapter, urgency took hold. Their rhythm surged, Raven’s hips grinding faster, her slick heat fueling a relentless pace that drove them to the edge. His cock plunged deeper, each thrust a searing drag against her quivering walls, her clit grinding against him, sparks of pleasure coiling tighter. His fingers dug into her hips, guiding her with primal need, her breasts bouncing with each movement, nipples grazing his palms. They paused one last time, teetering, her walls fluttering, his cock pulsing, the moment electric. Then, as the screen’s tension peaked, they let go, her moans muffled against her hand, his growls low against her neck.

His muscles tensed, green skin rippling as arousal triggered a shift. His cock swelled, stretching her impossibly, a thick, throbbing mass that filled her to her limit, his pulse roaring. She’s got me losing it, he thought, control slipping. “Oh crap… Garfield?” she gasped, eyes widening as he expanded, a fleeting ache for Robin’s intensity piercing her panic. The stretch was exquisite, her core sparking with a mix of pain and pleasure. “Keep going,” she urged, sultry, leaning back, embracing the sensation, her control teetering as she surrendered to the fire.

His thrusts surged, fast and shallow, a slow, throbbing swell at his base stretching her wider, forming a knot that pressed relentlessly against her walls. Raven tugged, but the swell grew, her core quaking with a mix of panic and need. It’s locking, she thought, gasps sharp as his growls deepened. It’s too much, but gods, I want it, she admitted, hips rocking to chase the climax, her earlier command unraveling in the face of raw desire. His cock pulsed, the knot grinding against her sensitive spots, her slickness dripping down his shaft, coating them both.

His hands yanked her down, impaling her deep, instinct ruling. The knot locked them together, unyielding, her walls stretched to their limit, every pulse of his cock sending shudders through her. He jerked back, trying to pull out, but the knot held firm, defying her warning. “Cumming,” he grunted, raw and feral, his cock throbbing violently. Her climax hit like wildfire, her pussy clenching around his knotted cock, a shuddering scream muffled against her hand. Violet sparks skittered across the seat, waves of pleasure locking her in a haze, the knot intensifying each pulse as her core spasmed, milking him. His climax erupted, a molten surge flooding her core, trapped by the knot, each thick spurt overwhelming her with scalding fullness, her thought a haze of It’s burning me up, too much. Her control unraveled completely, swept away by the knot’s intensity, the creampie a stark betrayal of her command. A faint trickle escaped, but the flood stayed locked inside, her walls quivering around the relentless pressure. His body shuddered, fur bristling, but his breaths slowed, eyes focusing.

They collapsed, Raven’s breath caught, her core still ablaze with aftershocks. The dress bunched around her waist, her breasts and hips bare, glistening with sweat and a faint sheen of cum. The credits rolled, the projector’s hum fading, but the knot kept them locked, trapped heat swelling inside her. The auditorium buzzed, lights flickering as the credits scrolled. Raven tugged, her pulse hammering, but the knot held tight. Her core spasmed, a sharp twitch from her climax rippling through her, sealing her surrender to the flood within. The lights are coming on, she thought, urgency spiking.

“Garfield, move—now,” she hissed, struggling to separate, the trapped cum’s pressure overwhelming. Her legs quivered, weak from the orgasm’s relentless reverberations. “Gimme a sec,” he rasped, voice raw, his own legs shaky as he fought to recover. Worth every damn second, he thought. A patron’s cough sliced the silence. A soda can clattered, a silhouette creeping closer. Raven’s pulse surged. If those lights hit, we’re exposed, she thought, thrill and panic colliding.

The knot eased, a few stray spurts pulsing as they pulled apart. A torrential flood gushed out, drenching her thighs in thick, sticky streams, soaking the dress’s skirt. Her core twitched, squeezing out slick pulses, each spasm a raw echo of her unraveling. Raven fumbled for her shoes, heart pounding, legs unsteady as another twitch jolted through her. What a mess—thrilling, but a surrender I didn’t expect, she thought, sarcasm veiling her reluctant acceptance. “You couldn’t hold back, could you?” she muttered, voice sharp yet laced with a thrill she couldn’t suppress.

They staggered toward the exit, Raven’s steps faltering, her core still spasming, each twitch squeezing out faint drops of cum that slicked her thighs, risking exposure. Beast Boy steadied her, his legs trembling, grin flickering despite the chaos. A couple from the back row passed, the man’s eyes roaming over Raven’s disheveled form—her soaked skirt clinging to her thighs, her bare skin gleaming with sweat and cum. His gaze lingered, bold and knowing, before he flashed a brazen wink at them both. The woman at his side offered a coy smile, her eyes glinting with curiosity, then turned away, her head tilting as if to whisper. Did they see it all? Raven thought, a jolt of thrill cutting through her sarcasm. They ducked through the side exit as the lights flared, evading exposure. A final slick drop hit her ankle, unseen in the dark.

They reached the Tower, its silhouette looming against the night, the cool air sharp on their heated skin. Raven’s steps faltered, her damp skirt clinging, a warm trickle of cum slicking her thigh. Beast Boy trailed behind, his shirt rumpled, a disheveled grin lingering. They barged into the common room, its dim lights catching Starfire tangled in Robin’s lap on the couch, her top skewed, his shirt unbuttoned, lips locked in a heated kiss. The couple froze, then scrambled apart, Starfire giggling as she adjusted her skirt, Robin coughing, his face flushed. Raven’s eyes widened, her cheeks burning, while Beast Boy snickered, “Whoa, dudes, get a room!” his tone teasing yet amused.

Starfire’s gaze snapped to Raven’s cum-laced dress, undeterred by the interruption. “Friend Raven, you wear my gift, its fabric sparkling with passion and a scent of such fervor! On Tamaran, we revel in such freedom!” she chirped, her voice bright with Tamaranian enthusiasm.

Raven froze, the musky scent and Starfire’s pride in her gift betraying her further, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. She’s too proud of this mess, she thought, her cheeks burning. “Don’t even start, Star,” she growled, sarcasm sharp, drawing Beast Boy’s cheeky grin.

“Star, that movie was wild—you gotta join us next time, you’d love the vibe!” Beast Boy said, winking playfully, his voice dripping with his usual coaxing charm. Starfire leaned forward, clapping her hands. “Glorious! What tale of passion did this film weave?” Her curiosity sparkled, innocence unshaken, mirroring her Tamaranian wonder.

“No, you’re not,” Raven cut in, her glare flashing with irritation and guardianship. Robin, still flushed, shot a sharp glance at Beast Boy, his fingers digging into the couch arm. Beast Boy shrank under their combined stares, grinning nervously. “Or, y’know… not,” he mumbled, his quick backtrack laced with a nervous chuckle.

Robin leaned forward, a slight flinch as his gaze flicked to Raven’s soaked dress, his voice low, a wry edge masking his tension. “Wow, must’ve been some movie?” The question hung heavy with unspoken words, piercing Raven’s composure.

“That’s it, I’m hitting the shower!” Raven snapped, fed up with Beast Boy’s recklessness and Robin’s sharp stare. She stormed out, a trickle of cum dripping down her thigh, a reminder of the night’s chaos. In her room, she grabbed a towel from her bed, the slick warmth on her skin deepening her shame. She hurried to the shared bathroom, the shower’s hiss starting soon after. Starfire paused, glancing softly at Robin, then jumped up with a cheerful grin. “On Tamaran, we cleanse to share joy—I must help Friend Raven relax!” she said, striding toward the boys. She peeled off her top and skirt, revealing violet panties, her steps light and carefree. She pushed the shower door open, leaving it ajar, and slipped inside. Beast Boy’s jaw dropped, his eyes meeting Robin’s, thinking, No way she’s doing this! Robin froze, staring at the open door, thinking, This is too much.