you've been dating wally, for 5 months now. and somehow, you've been able to keep it secret... expect the 2 times you have been almost caught... and when you do eventually get caught.
navigation
FIRST TIME
it was the middle of the night, when you had called wally to come over to the manor, insisting no one was home at the time.
wally makes his way up to your balcony, something he would done many times. (no one knew because you would quickly delete the camera footage from the side of the manor that your bedroom was on)
as soon as you saw wally on your balcony, you immediately hop out of your king sized bed that was filled with a obscene amount of blankets, and pillows.
"hey baby.."
wally mutters, as he pulls you in close, kissing you softly. you shiver at the cold wind of gothams winters.
"wally, come inside before I get hypothermia!"
you tug at the collar of his jacket, you're only wearing a thin tank top and a pair of sleep shorts. while wally, is dressed in warm thick clothing. he follows you inside, kicking of his boots and making sure the balcony doors are shut properly. wally lays down on your bed, with a sigh. you climb ontop of him, laying your head onto his chest, stealing his body heat.
"i missed you babe.."
you pick your head up from wallys chest, looking at him with a small smile on your face. his hand comes up to cup your cheek, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
"i missed you too, it feels so long since I last saw you in person.."
it had been about 2 weeks since you and wally had last seen each other. since you and wally had been extremely busy, crime in gotham has been getting worse, lately.
you close the distance between the two of you, pulling wally into a deep, passionate kiss. his hands find your hips, rubbing small circles against them, then one of his hands going under your tank top, then you both hear it, footsteps. which caught both of you off gurad, since nobody was supposed to be home. you quickly jump off of wally, who was a big pout on his face. you usher him under your bed, as the footsteps get closer and closer. then, your door opens. its dick, still in his nightwing costume.
"hey-"
dick pauses, narrowing his eyes at you. your cheeks are flushed, lips plumped, and you look like your panting for breath.
"are you.. good?"
dick asks, his body not moving, but his eyes darting all around the room. wally, prays to the heavens that dick doesn't look under the bed where he is currently hiding. wally uses everything in his body not to make even a peep.
"uh yeah.. arent you supposed to be on patrol?"
you clear your throat, rubbing the back od your neck.
"was, patrol ended early tonight."
dick again, suspiciously looks around your room.
"do you wanna go grab some bat burgers?'
"uh, yeah sure! just give me a second to get dressed."
"okay, ill wait for you downstairs."
he spoke, still looking at you with suspicion in his voice, and on his face. you sigh of relief when he closes your door, you hurry over to edge of the bed, watching wally pull himself from under your bed.
"go quickly wally, they all will be here soon."
wally huffs dramatically,
"wow, I just want to spend time with my, beautiful, gorgeous, smart, sexy girlfriend and she just kicks me to the curb."
wally spoke, a pout still on his face, you roll your eyes, pulling him in for a short kiss.
"ill see you, later okay? I love you."
SECOND TIME
you and wally walk hand in hand at the mall, wally carrying all of your shopping bags. you, of course in a disguise. (your disguise is a messy bun with sun glasses.)
"ooo wally! look they have pretzels, come on!"
you drag wally by his arm, practically running towards the restaurant, as passerbys give you and wally weird glances
after waiting in line, for what felt like 30 minutes, you and wally can finally order.
"hi, can I get two salted pretzels, with cheese dip?"
"that will be 10.65"
you tap your card against the card reader, the cashier hands you the receipt that was your order number on it. you and wally walk over to the side, waiting for your order to be ready. wally is rambling about a dream he had the night before, when you spot jason and roy. wally realizes you arent listening to his weird dreams anymore, he follows your gaze. the hair on his arms stands up, as a shiver goes down his spine. wally looks around for an exit, when he spots the bathrooms in the restaurant. he makes a run for it, as you feel the gush of wind and look behind you, of where wally once was. jason makes his way over to you.
"hey, (name)"
"hello jayjay"
jason rolls his eyes at the nickname you had called him since you were little. youre order finally gets called, making your way over. you notice jason eyeing down one of your pretzels
"no. dont even think about it."
jason quickly rips off a piece of a pretzel, (now wallys pretzel.) walking back to roy, who sat on a bench on his phone.
"bye, (name)"
you huff, watching then both exit the mall. you text wally, letting him know the two had left. wally quickly exits the bathroom, a small frown appears on his face as he realizes someone took a bite out of his pretzel.
THIRD TIME
you groan, running a hand through your hair. you had been going over security cameras from literally everywhere in gotham. trying to find these two criminals who had been robbing jewelry stores all around the city. this had to have been, what? the tenth hour you had been going over this? spinning around in your chair to look at wally laying down on the floor, staring at the ceiling, throwing a ball in the air and catching it. (aka basically being pit in time out after which he had been yelled at by you because he kept trying to distract you.)
"wally, come here."
wally pout immediately turns into a grin, pushing himself up from the ground onto your lap.
"yes, m'lady?
wally spoke, his voice teasing and inviting with a shit eating grin on his pale, freckled face.
exhaustion wears down on your eyes, pulling wally in by his hips and kissing him deeply. wally slowly starts to grind against you, his orange hair slightly sticking to his forehead from his sweat.
"fuck- wally.."
you moan, you can feel wally even through both of your guys pants. you can feel how hard he was. wallys hands roam all over your waist, a hand coming to squeeze a boob every once in a while, he ends up shoving his tongue in your mouth. you grind your hips up, matching his pace. wally groans in your mouth, his hands going to the zipper of your suit... when you hear the door to the cave open.
you push wally off onto the ground, smacking his butt hard onto the floor, he groans in pain a hand rubbing his sore butt. you quickly turn your chair around, back to the monitors.
then tim walks in, a notebook stuff with sticky notes, and pages falling out and a coffee mug in the other.
tim looks at you, then wally. his eyebrow raised, and his eyes narrowed. he looks back at you, seeing your flushed face, the zipper of your suit zipper being partially undone, your heaving breathing, and your plumped lips. then, he looks down at wally. whose still on the floor, his face bright red, hair messy and his lips also plumped.
it confroms all his, and dicks suspension.
"i knew it! in the cave really? oh, im telling everyone!"
tim spoke, running out the cave to go tell dick.
"and getting alfred to sanitize the whole cave!"
tim yelled as the door closed behind him. you sat there frozen. you look at wally, who has a scared, but also somewhat of a smug expression on his face.
you let out a heavy side, already knowing the long talk that bruce will give you tonight.
𖥔 ✴️ . ノ His brothers like to crash at your place . . .
with JASON TODD ◜ content ⸝⸝ short n' sweet . i didn't mention the girls :( ! ୧ head empty just batfamily ♡
It's quiet when you both turn in to sleep ― warm, comfortable ... shielded from the filth of Gotham. His heavy duty and your deep-rooted fears, far from your guys mind. Your face is turned towards his, head nestled comfortably under his chin, and ... Jason breathes softly, in n' out ... It's calm ... quiet ... Maybe even a little too quiet ? You hear the faint noise of the city below your apartment complex and all the way down the streets. Traffic, sirens ― it's all a familiar sound that would usually lull you right to sleep. Even the light rumbling of your partners' chest ― not quite snoring, but something close ― normally has you knocked out in under five minutes. But ...
The doorbell. It's a sharp tone in the otherwise silent apartment, that has your eyes wide open again, and Jason on his last nerve. You hear him sigh. Annoyed, yes, but also in a way that tells you ― he has an idea of who that might be. It's still dark, and you can barely see just what he's really doing, but you feel how he peels his side of the blanket away, muttering something like 'jus' sleep, i'll check' which is barely audible by how sleep drunken he sounds. Then, he's already out of the bedroom, lazily walking towards the door, already dreading which bat will greet him at such an hour ...
When he finally opens it, it's ... Richard Grayson, grinning. The sight has another heavy sigh escape him. "Yeah?" Jason liked to pretend that it was unusual for his brothers to show up ― which it wasn't. He also liked to pretend that he never lets them stay ― but he does. And it ― embarrassingly so ― never even takes that long to convince him. When asked, though, Jason claims it's because he rather gets right back to sleep than argue with any of his brothers.
Everyone believes him. Not.
So, Jason just steps aside and lets a much too triumphal looking Dick crash on the couch.
You hear them talk, hushed, comfortable, and soon enough, Jason is back in your bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him as he crawls back to you and underneath the sheets. "S' he okay?" You ask softly, shifting back into your previous position, flush against his chest as you breathe out, content. You're used to Richard coming over and crashing, so you're more concerned on why. Wouldn't be the first time he came over bloodied and beaten, much more eager to let you patch him up than have the batman give him a lecture. "He's fine. Will be gone in the morning."
'He doesn't want to deal with Bruce today' is what he wants to say, but he doesn't want his father to be the last thing he thinks about before going back to sleep. So he just presses a kiss against your forehead and tells you to go back to sleep.
You do, for maybe a minute, then there's a loud crash somewhere, and you're obviously wide awake again. This time, Jason doesn't even pretend to 'go check' because it's one of two people ― and he has this vague idea that it must be Tim, by how stupid his landing was. Probably came through the wrong window and fell right into that new Vase you bought.
Great.
You quietly follow behind when he leaves the bedroom again. You carry a blanket and a smaller pillow that you know is more comfortable than whatever pillows you keep in the living room, handing both to a drowsy Dick when he opens one eye ― not even bothering to check what caused such a loud noise in your guys' apartment. He just thanks you, turns around and goes right back to snoring. It's sweet, you think, how he feels more at ease here, than the large Mansion of his father...
"Go home, Tim," You hear your boyfriend mutter and follow his voice to the kitchen. His brows are furrowed as he watches the boy ― still glad in his suit ― try and puzzle the vase back together. "It's fine, we'll clean it tomorrow..." you find yourself saying, offering the kid a reassuring smile when he sheepishly lets it all fall back together. You know why he's here ― Jason knows too... and it goes without saying that he, too, is always allowed to stay. Even when Jay plays the annoyed older brother, grumbling and huffing when you show Tim the foldable sofa in your bedroom ( the one you guys bought specifically for nights like this ... )
He gets the last spare blanket, and a pillow, and he's good to go, bright smile and rosy cheeks when he thanks you so genuinely, you almost tear up a little. Your boyfriend grunts something about it being 'the last damn time' and Tim just nods. It won't be the last time. Jason acts like his brothers are intruding ― you know better.
Then everything slowly settles. It gets quiet again, there is the occasional shifting of blankets and pillows ― but, everyone seems asleep. Jason is cuddled against you, you can hear the faint snoring of Dick, and even Tim smacks his lips in deep content.
Yet, you can't help but feel like something is still not right. And like the universe agrees with you because ― of course, someone is still missing ― you hear the noise of your window being shoved open, with careful, skillful little hands... and soon enough, a smaller body wedges itself right between you and Jason as if it belongs. You don't say anything, and neither does he ― Damian Wayne fits right in the middle, barely three apples, yet he gets comfortable as if he owns the place. And you know Jason is rolling his eyes, deeply annoyed and beyond done with having so many siblings seeking him out when he just wants to spend time at his apartment with his partner. But even he is quiet and settles easy, his arm lazily thrown over his youngest brother and you, shifting the blanket so that all three of you are warm.
It's the sounds of a full apartment that finally lets you find comfortable sleep ― the warmth of two bodies right next to you ( of which the smaller keeps his hand laced with yours, as if you would ever even dare leave during the night ).
When morning comes, your sofa is empty, the vase glued back together and one demon child can't even look at you because he knows you're aware he's been clinging. He's embarrassed, you ruffle his hair, and together with Jason you bring him back to the Manor. You know it won't be the last time... and you honestly don't mind.
someone take " ... " away from me / i wrote this for myself honestly ―
your vibrator dies so bf!Wally comes to the rescue 😚
This is the male reader version my friend requested cuz hes a brat. Wally's basically a human vibrator, its fine. Male!reader x Wally, smut, oral (r recieving), fourth base, unprotected sex🧍♂️(pls wrap it before u tap it)
"Fine, I'm horny and my vibrator is dead so I need you home immediately," you huffed into your phone, squeezing your cock at the base as you laid sprawled on your bed, frustrated that you couldn't satisfy yourself right now.
You initially called Wally to get off to his voice, knowing his freaky ass would say yes, but hearing him this time wasn't enough. Your hand wasn't enough. You needed something more. And that something was your boyfriend.
You heard Wally chuckle softly on the other side of the phone, his grin audible. "Babe, I'm in a meeting, right now."
"So? All of a sudden you're too busy for me?" You bit your lip to hide your smile, even though he couldn't see it.
"No, never too busy for you," he replied, you could hear him trying not to laugh. "But-"
You groaned, your fingers tightening around your cock and squeezing in pulses, and you heard Wally's breath hitch. You smirked.
"Wally, please? I need you," you let the pout stray into your voice, making soft noises into the phone as you stroked yourself. "Just… come home and take care of me? Please?"
You moaned softly, loud enough for Wally to hear by the curse he let out. "You're touching yourself now? Oh, c'mon, thats petty." You bit your lip again to not chuckle as there was a shuffle on the other side of the phone, then another sigh from him. "Alright, handsome. Ill be there-4 minutes. Don't move."
----------
"Fuck, wally-!" You gasped as he ran his tongue along the underside of your shaft, one of his hands spreading you wider as his fingers slid into your tight hole, already lubed up for him. His digits curled inside of you, moving in and out at an inhuman pace that made you groan deeply, the speed feeling more like a constant vibration than anything else inside you. "Wally-!"
"Yeah, I know, baby," he hummed around your tip, letting his teeth graze against your flesh in a way that made you see stars for a second. He loved the way you moaned his name, your soft cries and groans like music to his ears as he went above and beyond to satisfy you, which was all he wanted, to make you feel good. "C'mon, handsome, cum for me again."
You came almost immediately, thick ropes of your cum painting his face as he smirked up at you, making you want to cum again at how sexy he looked with your cum on his face. He trailed his fingers through the mess, gathering it on his fingers before reaching towards your lips.
"Open up, baby," he murmured, and your lips parted around his fingers, eagerly sucking them into your mouth and swallowing your own cum. "Good boy, you taste good, don't you? Yeah, you do."
He stood from his position on the ground, pressing his lips to yours as he pushed you deeper into the mattress, getting on top of you and pulling his boxers down. He held your hands, intertwining your fingers on either side of your head as he looked down at you, eyes tender.
"You ready for me?" He let his tip prodding at your hole as he kissed down your jaw, sighing softly. "C'mon, handsome, I wanna be inside you."
You moaned softly, wrapping your legs around his hips as you said, "Yes, Wally, please. Fuck me." The words were barely off your lips before he was pushing inside, groaning into your neck as you bit his shoulder. "Fuck, you're always so tight."
He eased in gently and gave a few slow thrusts to make sure you were fully adjusted to him, and once you were, he was fucking you like a dog. He grunted with each thrust, moaning and panting against your shoulder as your nails dug into his hand, gripping him tight.
You moaned wantonly, ankles crossed on his lower back as he pistoned in and out of your slick hole, balls slapping agajnst your ass. "Fuck-faster, Wally-" you whimpered, your moans getting louder as his tip pounded against that one spot deep inside you.
"Faster, baby? Fuck-" he groaned, hips picking up speed now, moving much faster than anyone in the world as he used his speedster ability to thrust in and out of you. He was careful not to hurt you, aware of how much you could take without pain, and that fact made you clench around him like a vice.
Your belly tightened and your cock pulsed against your stomach, the tip flushed angrily as it wept from the feeling of him inside you. "Wally, im gonna-"
"Me too. God, I'm so fucking close-" he fucked into you faster his hand releasing yours to grab your cock, quickly stroking it and making you cum on the spot. You squirted onto his hand, making a mess of his fingers as you milked his cock as he came with your hole clenching him tightly. He came fast, thick spurts of his cum filling you to the brim as he moaned into your neck.
He stayed still for a long moment after panting against your skin before pulling out. He grunted as he collapsed next to you and let you nuzzle into him. You both panted heavily, tucking into each other as you tried to come down from your highs.
Then he chuckled breathlessly, trailing a hand down your side as he teased gently, "who knew you couod be so desperate?" He grinned at your glare, his freckled cheeks flushed in a way that made him practically glow in a way that was unfair. "And loud. I bet the neighbors will file a noise complaint-"
He yelped as you shoved a pillow in his face, squirming away from him as he grabbed your and started tickling your sides as you begged him to stop.
i had a thought about teen!r x tim just acting like dumb kids idk… like they’d call each other husband playfully and joke about stuff, they weren’t even dating when that whole thing started and the relationship just kind of slowly morphed without needing to say anything (maybe some batfam cameo too, tim gets teased so much but he’s still in denial) ouhhh i’m so soft rn feeling emoshunal teen love is so cute :(
-🪸
CASE FILE 001-A: “Red Robin’s Domestic Crisis.”
PAIRING: Tim Drake × Male Reader
CASE STATUS:
▪️Closed
CASE TYPE:
You and Tim are not dating. The “husband” thing is just a joke, obviously, and anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong (according to him). The Batfam, unfortunately, is more than happy to point it out and he has to deal with the fact that everyone else came to terms with it before he did.
Well, it starts like a joke.
“Move, husband,” you say, nudging Tim’s shoulder with yours as you squeeze past him in the hallway.
He barely looks up from his phone. “Rude. I’m literally carrying all of the weight of this entire operation.”
“You mean the group project you’ve redone five times because you don’t trust anyone else to breathe near it?” You raised a brow slowly.
Tim finally glances at you, flat and unimpressed in the way only he can manage. “Be a good husband and appreciate my dedication.”
That makes you snort. “Yes, dear.”
It isn’t even consistent at first. Just the little things.
You steal his pencil, he calls you “ungrateful spouse.” You sit next to him in the library, he mutters “oh, hey, my beloved showed up.” You bring him snacks, he smiles like you’ve fulfilled a lifelong vow.
“Fix your posture,” you tell him one afternoon, leaning over the table in the library.
Tim doesn’t even look offended. “Is that how you speak to your husband?”
“Yes,” you say immediately. “Be good and sit up before you turn into a cashew.”
“You’re impossible.” He obeys, but only to prove a point. No other reason.
“And yet you married me.”
Tim mutters, “Regrettably.”
…
Later, he starts doing it without prompting.
You’re half asleep when he taps your forehead lightly. “Wake up… your spouse requires urgent support.”
You blink at him. “That’s.. not how marriage works.”
“Well, too late for that, we already signed the paperwork in my head.” He smirked.
“You forged legal documents?”
“I’m a Drake. We’re efficient.”
You laugh and he looks satisfied, like that was the goal more than the joke itself. And it keeps going like that. Small and stupid like:
“You’re failing your husband duties by laughing at me.”
“Ughh.. my spouse is neglecting me again.”
It’s late evening in the kitchen when Tim walks in, still half in suit from patrol, grabbing a glass of water. Dick is already there, perched on the counter.
“So,” Dick says casually, swinging his legs, “how’s married life?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Dick’s grin widens. “Oh, you know. The whole ‘be a good husband’ situation you’ve got going on.”
“It’s a joke,” Tim says immediately, too fast.
“Sureeee,” Dick replies, dragging it out. “A very committed joke. Real lifetime partnership energy.”
“We’re just messing around.” Tim murmurs into his cup of water as he takes a sip.
“Uh-huh.” Dick hops down from the counter. “You mess around like you’re filing, I don’t know, joint taxes.”
Tim doesn’t respond to that, asides from a sigh. Which, unfortunately, is also an answer.
…
Jason hears about it later, and of course he hears it wrong first. He’s in the training room when Tim passes through, and he doesn’t even look away from the punching bag.
“So you finally got hitched, huh?”
Tim stops walking. “No.”
Jason smirks. “That’s not what Dick said.”
“I’m going to assume Dick said something stupid.”
Jason finally looks over, amused. “He said you’ve got a husband now.”
Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s a joke.”
“Yeah? You call him that in the field too?”
“That was once.”
“That’s once more than zero.”
Tim walks away before it can become a full interrogation.
Jason watches him go and calls after him, “Tell your spouse I said hi!”
“He’s not my—”
But Jason was already laughing.
…
Tim finds Damian in the library later, sitting straight in a chair that looks too big for him, sharpening a pencil like it’s a blade.
Damian looks up. “Grayson says you have entered into a matrimonial arrangement.”
“No.”
“A mock marriage?” Damian tilts his head slightly.
“Yes.”
“A foolish one?”
Tim exhales. “It’s a joke, Damian.”
Damian goes back to sharpening. “You are unusually tolerant of this individual.”
“I tolerate all of you.”
“That is false.” Damian continues, unbothered. “You respond faster to him. You allow physical proximity without irritation. You have never corrected his usage of marital terminology in a meaningful way.”
“It’s not meaningful,” Tim says.
Damian finally looks up again. “Then why do you hesitate before denying it?”
Tim adjusts his sleeve. “It’s just funny.”
“Denial is inefficient.”
…
Stephanie is also worse.
She sprinted towards Tim in the hallway with both hands full of equipment bags. “Ooooh,” she cooes instantly. “How’s married life treating you?”
Tim groans. “Not you too.”
“Yeah! I heard you’re domestic now.” She leans in like it’s classified intel and whispers, “Do you cook? Do you fight over chores? Do you say ‘yes dear’ yet?”
“It’s not real.”
“Sounds real,” she practically sings.
“It’s seriously just a joke!” Tim said indignantly.
“Sure,” she says, stretching the word. “A joke where you’ve basically adopted a boyfriend.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Tell your husband I said hi!”
He doesn’t respond but his ears are turning red.
…
Barbara doesn’t ease into it either, which of course, sucks for Tim. It’s another late call and the screen glows faintly in the background, green code reflecting off her glasses. Tim is mid-report, standing in the cave with his tablet, trying very hard to sound normal.
“You’ve been syncing patrol routes around his schedule,” Barbara says.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” she cuts in, calm but certain. “And you don’t do ‘not deliberate’ things, Tim.”
Silence.
Barbara leans back slightly in her chair. “Also,” she adds, like she’s switching topics but absolutely isn’t, “I know teen love when I see it.”
She continues, tone far too casual for what she’s saying. “And you? Totally soft for that guy.”
“I’m not—” he starts.
Barbara lifts a hand. “Don’t.”
That single word shuts it down more effectively than a screaming argument ever could.
Tim exhales. “It’s not like that.”
Barbara watches him through the screen, expression gentler now, but still knowing. “Then what is it?” she asks.
He hesitates for too long, and that’s the problem because whatever answer he was going to give… doesn’t come out to be believable anymore.
“It’s a joke,” he says finally, quieter this time.
She just nods. “Sure. A joke.”
And through all of it, Tim keeps insisting the same thing.
It’s a joke.
A simple running bit.
Something stupid between two people.
But jokes don’t usually make him look up when someone walks into a room. They don’t usually stick around this long. And they definitely don’t make everyone else start noticing before he does.
Tim stares at the screen a little longer than he means to.
The message is simple—just four words that feel heavier than they should.
“I want to talk to you.”
Before he can overthink it further, the phone buzzes again.
“Yes, my darling husband?”
Of course.
Tim exhales through his nose, something between a laugh and resignation. His thumb hovers for a second, then starts typing.
“Stop calling me that.”
He deletes it and tries again.
“Are you busy?”
Too casual, so he deleted it too.
He locks the screen for half a second, then unlocks it again like that would reset his brain.
This is ridiculous. He’s faced down armed criminals and dismantled hacking networks—and somehow texting is what’s breaking him.
He finally types:
“Can you meet me? Tonight.”
Almost immediately, the reply from you comes through.
“Yeah. Where, honey?”
Tim shuts his eyes for a second. Stop calling me that, he almost types. Instead:
“Roof. The usual one.”
No reply after that. He just hopes you listen.
…
He gets there first.
Gotham air is cold enough to bite through fabric but Tim barely notices. He’s already running through every possible version of this conversation in his head, none of them good enough.
Footsteps approach behind him a few minutes later.
You step up beside him. “So,” you say. “This is serious business or just emotional support husband duties?”
Tim lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Serious,” he finally says.
“Okay,” you say, quieter. “Talk to me.”
Tim looks out over Gotham for a second longer, like he needs something steady to focus on before he says anything.
“I think… I think I might actually like you.” He looks at you softly. “I don’t know when it stopped being a joke, but it did.”
A pause as the wind moves between you both, sharp and cold.
Tim continues anyway, “And I don’t expect anything from you. I just needed to admit it.”
“…You feel it too?”
He just blinks. “What?”
You look just as surprised as he feels.
Your brows lift, your expression caught somewhere between disbelief and relief, as though you’d expected almost any response except the one he’d given.
“Do you feel it too?” you repeated.
“…Too?”
You scratch the back of your neck, suddenly looking a lot less confident than the boy who’d spent months calling him husband and all those pet names without a second thought.
“I mean…” You let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Um, I kind of thought I was the one who accidentally ruined the joke.”
Tim just stares. “You like me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ve been calling me ‘husband’ and ‘honey’ this entire time while actually—”
“Yep..”
Another pause.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was funny at first. Then I started looking forward to hearing you say it back.”
Tim’s heart does something deeply inconvenient.
“I’d catch myself wondering if you’d text me that day.” You smile to yourself, small and sheepish. “Or I’d hear something dumb and think, ‘Tim’s going to roll his eyes so hard at this.’”
Tim can only gape at you.
For someone who always has a response, always has another angle or argument ready, his mind is completely blank.
“You seriously…” he mumbles at last.
“I seriously like you.”
Tim lets out a slow breath. “I spent four days trying to convince myself Dick was imagining things.”
“He wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Jason?”
“…Unfortunately not.”
“The rest of your family?”
“They’re going to be unbearable.”
“So… they figured it out before we did?”
“…Yeah,” he admits.
“Huh.”
“Hm.”
“Sooo…” You nudge his shoulder with yours, almost experimentally.
“So.”
“Does this mean I was being a good spouse this whole time?”
Tim groans, dropping his face into one hand. “You had one chance to be serious.”
“I was serious for, like, two full minutes!”
“You lasted eighty seconds at most.”
“I think that’s a personal record.”
Against his better judgment, Tim laughs.
You brighten immediately at the sound. “There he is.”
“Oh, don’t start.”
“I can’t help it.” You bump him again. “It’s nice hearing my husband laugh.”
Tim shakes his head, already smiling.
“…You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” you say, reaching over to lace your fingers through his with effortless certainty, “you still like me.”
Tim looks down at your joined hands.
Then back at you.
“…Yeah,” he says, giving your hand the slightest squeeze. “I really do.”
Imagine a Dick Grayson x reader where Bruce accidentally walks in on them
YES, MY LOVE? ( Dick grayson! )
summary: Dick has a broken leg, a beautiful girlfriend, and a nice bed in a house where no one is around, so why shouldn't he enjoy his moment in the spotlight?
pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
cw: smut ( p in v), get caught.
open request - Dick masterlist
The manor was completely silent. Everything was wrapped in soft shadows, with the moon filtering through the hallway's enormous windows and the night breeze caressing the heavy curtains.
You'd received a message from Dick during the day asking you to come to the mansion to keep him company while he rested. He was tired of sitting alone, staring at the ceiling, counting nonexistent cracks, and complaining about "the sad temporary death of his nightlife." So why would you say no to your poor boyfriend with a broken leg?
You crossed the entrance without making a sound, went straight up to his room, and when you opened the door you found him lying on the bed, with an open book on his chest, the cast resting on several pillows and the face of a dramatic martyr.
"As far as I can see, you're alive, darling. How lucky you are." You said from the doorway, taking off your jacket.
"Barely. You don't know what it was like to watch three documentaries in a row about antique furniture restoration. I'm about to ask Alfred if I can rearrange the bookcase by color."
You approached, giggling, and carefully climbed onto the bed, lying down beside him. "So you need me to keep you from leaving your life as a security guard and becoming a decorator?"
"Exactly. My righteous soul is in danger," he replied, turning slightly toward you with that soft smile that seemed innocent as he rested his head on your chest. "And besides... I missed you."
You stroked his jaw, and he closed his eyes for a second, as if that simple gesture was what he truly needed to heal. Your lips found his in a slow, leisurely kiss, until you felt his hands clutch your waist with a mischievous smile until you pulled away. "I missed you too, Dickie."
He groaned faintly, as if hearing that nickname weakened him more than any wound on the battlefield. "Don't call me that if you're not going to stay all night," he said, hiding his smile in your collarbone, his voice vibrating against your skin.
"I have to go to college tomorrow" you sighed, your fingers playing with his hair.
Dick pulled away just to look at you, his brow furrowed slightly and his expression a mixture of Greek tragedy and subtle emotional blackmail.
"You can skip it. For a noble cause. You can say your boyfriend is slowly dying of boredom and needs constant company to survive."
You laughed softly as he gently pulled you towards him again, cradling you against his chest. "You're very persuasive for someone who's immobilized in one leg."
“I’m using the only thing I have left: my charm,” he replied in a deep voice, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t leave me tonight, i beg you, im young, vulnerable and horny”
You rolled your eyes, but clung to him with the same need. Dick had that dangerous ability to persuade; the way he touched you made you dizzy, the way each touch felt as natural as breathing. At some point, between laughter, soft kisses, and wordless promises, you both ended up under the sheets, sharing the warmth of a moment that seemed eternal. You couldn't help but think the force he used while he tried to move with his leg in a cast was ridiculous, but even that was adorable in its clumsiness. And you couldn't help but help him settle in while he gently pulled you on top of him, as if nothing could hurt him more tonight than the distance between you.
"Dick, are you sure there's no one here?"
"Trust me," he replied with absolute certainty, running a hand down your back. "We have the mansion to ourselves. It's a blessing from the universe. As if Gotham were saying: Today, Dickie, today is your turn to be happy."
You kissed him again, deeper this time. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he caressed your waist, his breathing mingling with yours. Your legs were on either side of his hips, the heat between you slowly rising like a tide. His hands, firm but gentle, gripped your waist, slowly guiding you to continue grinding his clothed cock, which you could feel growing at the friction of your panties.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky from the closeness, while his fingers went up just below your shirt, trying to remove it and let him see your songs moving to your rhythm.
Your smile curved at the sight of him so exhausted. You slowly lowered your torso until his lips found yours again. The kiss was hungrier, deeper. Your hands moved up to his already ready cock, feeling his muscles tense beneath your fingers.
"You're killing me," he murmured through gritted teeth, his smile barely trembling as he felt his cock sink into your wetness. "What a beautiful way to die."
"sure no one's there, right?" you whispered against his ear, a playful smile on your lips. "I don't want them to see me riding on your cock."
"I told you..." Dick whispered, smiling against your neck as he held you against him, not wanting you to move yet, both of you in his bed, sharing the warmth under the sheets. "No one's home. Alfred's in the cave, and Bruce left tonight. He never comes around."
His lips moved down your collarbone, and you chuckled, stroking his messy hair. His leg was in a cast, yes, but that hadn't stopped him from moving his hips toward you with that signature "I've been through worse, this isn't going to slow me down" look.
His hips found a rhythm of their own, slow but determined, grinding against you with clear purpose. That smile of his settled on his face.
"Look, I'm hurt, huh?" he murmured against your skin. "You could show me some mercy."
"More mercy than this?" you replied, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly, your voice barely trembling from everything you were feeling. "I'm riding you with my tits in your face. I can't do much more..."
Dick's laugh was drowned in a deep sigh. His fingers gripped your waist tightly, as if he needed to anchor himself to you so he wouldn't lose his mind.
The room, once silent save for broken whispers, was now filled with rapid breathing, wet thuds, and the creaking of the bed as the heat grew between you. It was a moment suspended in time, so intimate that it hurt to think it might end soon.
Dick's lips found yours in a hungry, almost desperate kiss, while his body, still limited, surrendered completely to what you allowed him to do. "Keep squeezing my cock baby, I'm gonna cum, shit," he murmured, his voice breaking, his forehead resting against yours.
Your hips began to move with more urgency, as if each touch sought to satisfy all the pent up needs of all those days of waiting. Dick looked at you as if you were all he needed to stay whole, as if the pain in his leg were just background noise compared to the comfort of having you like this, so close, so devoted. His fingers trembled slightly against your skin, but they didn't stop clinging to you, guiding you, seeking more of that connection that seemed to envelop them completely.
"Don't stop," he murmured, his voice hoarse, against your neck. "Please... don't stop."
"Dick, are you awake?" Bruce's deep voice cut off abruptly.
Both of you froze in that instant even though you had both had the best orgasm since you started dating, still feeling his thick threads of cum filling your soaked pussy, your first reaction was to cover yourself with the sheet up to your head, leaving Dick with his head resting against your chest, letting out an exhausted grunt.
Bruce didn't move for a couple of long seconds. "...You should be resting," he said at last, in that serious, dry tone he used when he was suppressing the urge to lecture.
"I was resting," Dick replied without lifting his head from your breasts, still hidden in the sheets.
"And no lock on the door."
"Whose fault is that?"
Bruce took a deep breath through his nose, as if he were doing mental yoga to keep from setting the mansion on fire. "Finish ruining the bed," he said, turning toward the hallway. "But we'll talk tomorrow."
Clic.
The door closed firmly.
Silence.
Dick stood there, leaning against you, completely motionless.
Summary: ur giving tim head and he is sooooo loud and whiny and starts sobbing and begging. Yeah.
a/n: this is buns but its okay. i was held at gunpoint by @absolutemasterbater while writing this 🧍♂️obviously inspired by the song.
Tim could be quite pathetic during sex, particularly while you were giving him head. It must've been something about you being between his legs and looking up at him at that perfect angle, or maybe your tongue swirling along his tip as he sobbed your name. Or maybe your… teeth?
"Baby, wait-" Tim hissed as your teeth graze the skin along his shaft, his hips bucking into your throat as he groans. "Oh, fuck yes-"
You hum around his cock, feeling him settle in the back of your throat as your hands squeeze his thighs, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him off in a way that made him moan like a porn star. "God, you look so gorgeous down there," he pants, his hands reaching to tangle in your hair but you slap his hands away, making him whimper as you pull back, gently dragging your teeth along him and making him whine."
No touching," you murmur, lapping at the pre cum oozing from his tip as his head falls back, throat bobbing as he nods frantically. "Yes-yes, I'm sorry, baby. I won't touch you, I promise. Just please don't stop-" he moans again as you abruptly take him in your mouth gain, his cock settling in your throat as your chin brushes his balls.
You gag around him slightly but the sight of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes motivated you to take it. He whimpers, thighs shaking now as he gasps between moans and you bobbing your head on him, your tongue dragging along the underside of his cock.
He thought you looked so beautiful like this, gazing up at him through your lashes with your pretty lips around his cock, your nails digging into his thighs as you hummed around him. Fuck, he wanted to just cum on the spot and watch you drink it all down like a slurpie. But you wouldn't let him.
And, of course, just as he was about to cum, you pulled off him, smirking. This was the third time, if you counted correctly, and Tim was on the verge of tears.
"No, baby, please," he whines, eyes wet as he gasps for breath, hips bucking towards your mouth, but you hold his hips down. "Please, please please please, I wanna cum."
You tut at him, moving one hand down to his base and squeezing gently, a pathetic mewl leaving his lips. "I know, but where would the fun be in that?" You coo at him, pouting slightly as you squeeze his base again to make him whimper again. "It'd be over too soon. You don't wanna disappoint me, do you?"
He small sob leaves his lips, his nose scrunching as he tries not to cry like last time. "No… no, but-"
"But?" You pull your hand off him completely, tilting your head mockingly. "But what, Timmy?"
He sobs again, a fat tear rolling down his cheek at having no stimulation, his cock dripping, tip flushed an angry shade of pink as it weeps for you. "But nothing-! I-I dont wanna disappoint you, I promise. I'll be good. I'll be so good, okay? Please. Just please-"
"You promise? I don't take promises lightly, Timmy, you know this," you speak softly, hands kneading his thighs as you look at him through your lashes. You press a kiss to his knee, making him choke. "You promise you'll be good for me?"
"Yes!" he whines, sniffling as a stream of tears slide down his cheeks. "Oh, yes, I promise. Please. Please, baby, I need you. I need it so badly."
You smiled then, gently cooing at him as you leaned up and licked his tears off his face. He immediately leaned into your mouth, shuddering as he mouthed at your neck desperately.
"Alright, alright. I think you've been good so far. Just keep going and ill let you cum, okay?" You moved back down his body, gently grasping his cock in your hand and wrapping your lips around his leaking tip.
"Mhm, I'll be good, I-oh-" he moaned loudly as you took took him down into your thraot again, dragging your teeth along his shaft the whole way and making him buck into your throat roughly.
"Baby, please please do that again. Fuck, you feel soooo good," he whines, more tears slipping down his cheeks and clinging to his jaw as he groans again. You arch a brow, pulling off him and trying not to smile as you ask, "Do what, baby? Use my teeth?"
"Yes!" He gasps, sniffling and nodding as his gaze desperately pleads with you, pleads for your mouth on him. "Yes, it feels so good. So fucking nice on me, baby, I love it."
You bite your lip before going back down on him, your teeth grazing his tip and making him let out a noise between a sob and a whimper. Yeah, he definitely loves your teeth.
a/n: Been a min since I posted and need to get something out. I need to stop writing abt tim tho and expand my horizons 😒 also happy late birthday Timmy
so I’m assuming Peter Pan and Pocahontas are not good representation to you?
Yeah. No. I’m not going to get into it heavily because I could be here forever, but here are five reasons each is just. Bad.
Pocahontas
1) Historically distortive but a people think a lot of it is real-ish
2) Romanticizes colonization
3) Savages. I understand that that song was meant to show both sides (and honestly as an adult it slaps and is chilling), but kids should not be exposed to a slur that young. At best, it’s racially insensitive
4) (in the sequel) Acts like it was her choice to leave behind her family and that others of her Nation willingly left as well, and one even chose to stay in Europe of his own free will
5) Man centered. Literally was willing to risk her entire Nation. For a man.
Peter Pan
1) What Makes The Red Man Red. I feel like that alone is reason enough
sinister!mark likes having a crazy girlfriend because he's just as damn mad .
cw- toxicity, reader’s power is telekinesis, toxic for toxic vibes, crack, jealousy, drabble
a/n : divider crrds : @/strangergraphics .
Usually, this dynamic would tire the average person. Make them feel exhausted and abused, but mark isn’t the average person. He’s a half viltramite half human man who happens to revel in destruction and the taste of human flesh.
And being not the average guy, a normal well adjusted girl isn’t for him either. He likes a girl keeping him on his toes, making him sweating and thinking about each decision he makes around her.
It’s why he loves moments like this.
Prior to this, you guys were at a house warming party for a friend. You were all smiles and giggles until you saw a look he gave a woman. It was just a quick glance paired with a neutral smile but it was enough to set you off.
The entire time while being at that party you kept it cool. As cool as someone like you could be. Your smile turned into a neutral straight line. When he attempted to put his hand on your thigh in the car you brushed it off. But once he parked the car in the driveway it was when you finally saw it as appropriate to go off.
You rush out of the car, slamming the car door and scurry your way to the front door to get away from him. It’s shameless how there’s a small smile on his face while he follows after you. “Babe.” He calls out and you deliberately slam the front door behind you.
“Babe, this is like so, dumb.” When he gets inside he’s following you up the stairs and into the bedroom he shares with you. “You know you’re the only Apple of my eye.” He jokes, but with how your arms are on your hips and that scowl is twisted onto your face, not a thing is funny.
“Am I mark? Because the way you were eyeing that that that…” you grunt, stammering on your own words. “That fucking woman!” You step forward to his way. “Eye fucking her like that.” You accuse him, gritting it through your teeth as if just saying it disgusts you. You hate even recounting it.
That chuckle mark makes while getting closer to you doesn’t sedate your wrath. “Baby, you’re being hysterical.” His tone is so easy going. He expects this all to blow over easily and that makes the current path of wrath your on right now worse.
“Hysterical?” You say it so bewildered with a scoff. Your eyes skim the room for a moment. Mark knows what that look means but he still nervously laughs.
“What’s going in that noggin of yours for you to go all zip?”
“If that’s hysterical…” You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily then looking at him with a smile. It’s the calm before the storm. “I’ll show you hysterical.” Without even a struggle you use your telekinesis to lift the wooden wardrobe in this room and shove it hard enough at Mark to have him launching through the large see through window and onto the hard pavement ground floor.
It hurts like hell. He’s a viltramite so he’ll survive but damn, it’s painful whenever you use your powers on him. What never changes is the way he’s laid out after.
The sight he gives you pacifies your anger for now. You smile, that giggle in your voice is back. “Am i hysterical now, Markus?” You yell out.
The only thing you get in return is a pained groan.
