1 am and I have a gift of thought... but im dikkory pilled and I adored Mar'i and im a sucker for young uncle damian (my favorite hcs of this genre: he's the only one that could put her to sleep when she was a cranky infant) but the existence of alfie... now an extension of older cousin / kinda aunt Mar'i and baby alfie baby sitting adventures đ maybe a fun theme of the traveling elephant doll (not sure if thats fanon, half canon from Bruce Timm's universe or canon) going from damian to mar'i to alfie. Lets goooo graysons!
elephant doll is fanon but this is such a cute idea đ„č
best thing tumblr ever did for me is the term "rotating it in my mind". it's really true that sometimes you think about something real hard but you can't tell what the thoughts are exactly. it's revolutionary stuff, i might even say
à§Ś Ś synopsis âź Jason starts growing facial hair again and he doubts he's young enough to go through a teenage phase. Good thing you know how to shave.
pls read a/n at the end before replying !!
aka âșâșâșâș âLook at that,â you murmur. âSexy jawline coming back.â âNever left,â Jason says automatically with a shit eating grin.
Jason has started growing facial hair again.
Itâs such a stupid, ordinary sentence that it almost feels like it belongs to someone elseâs life. Some other twenty-two-year-old who wakes up in a cramped apartment with morning light slipping through crooked blinds and worries about things like razors and bad lighting and whether stubble makes him look older than he is.
Not him.
His face is a map of healed disastersâthin white lines cutting through his brows, the faint pucker near his jaw, the uneven texture along his cheekbone where skin never quite settled back into what it was meant to be. There was a time when even the thought of hair growing there felt impossible. He remembers the chemical sting, remembers laughter echoing too loud in a warehouse that smelled like rust and rot and something sweetly corrosive.
The Joker had called it âlight acid.â
As if acid could ever be light.
As if anything about it had been.
After that, hair just⊠didnât grow. Not where it should have. Not where other boys his age complained about patchy beards and uneven sideburns and the awkward in-between stage of becoming something older.
Jason never got that stage.
He went from boy to broken and skipped the mundane humiliations in between.
Until now.
At twenty-two, standing barefoot in front of the narrow bathroom mirror in his apartment in Gotham City, Jason Todd squints at his reflection and feels something dangerously close to disbelief.
There is hair there.
Not much. Not thick. But there. Real.
Dark stubble shadows his jaw, uneven and stubborn, catching the early gray light filtering in through the frosted window. He drags his thumb over it once, slow, like he expects it to come away empty.
It doesnât.
The memory surfaces uninvitedâyour voice last night, half-breathless and laughing when you pulled him back just enough to complain that it was itchy, that it scratched when he was feasting on you like he hadnât eaten in days. Youâd swatted at his shoulder and told him to shave.
It hadnât been an attempt to redirect your mouth onto him for once like he thought.
Not that time.
âOh, god,â he mutters now, staring harder at the mirror.
He looks dreadful.
Thatâs the numb, dawning realization settling into him as he takes in the rest. The hollows beneath his eyes are darker than usual, bruised crescents that no amount of sleep seems to erase. His nose looks a little more crooked than he swears it did yesterday. His hairâthick, black, unrulyâis sticking up at impossible angles like he lost a fight with his pillow and didnât bother winning.
He leans closer.
At least his skin looks better.
That part softens something in him.
You had noticed it two nights ago when he complained, voice rough and embarrassed, about it feeling irritated againâtoo tight, too sensitive along the old scar tissue. You hadnât teased him. You just disappeared into the bathroom and came back with that stupidly expensive face cream you insist on buying, the one that smells faintly of lavender and something warm.
He grumbled the whole time.
You ignored him the whole time.
In the dark, your fingers had worked carefully over his faceâgentle where the scars pull, slower along the places that still ache when the weather shifts. Youâd murmured nonsense into the quiet, soft praise and softer affection, lips brushing his temple between instructions to stop fidgeting. He remembers the weight of you leaning over him, the warmth of your thighs against his hips, the way your thumbs smoothed over his brow like you were trying to iron out something deeper than irritated skin.
Jason had fallen asleep like that.
Just like that.
He doesnât remember the moment it happened. Just remembers waking up tangled in you and the faint trace of lavender still clinging to him.
âI knew it was hair!â
Your voice slices cleanly through his thoughts.
He flinches slightly before catching himself, then groans under his breath as you pad into the bathroom behind him, bare feet silent against the hardwood.
You look like you crawled straight out of a dream.
Your hair is down and messy, falling around your shoulders in soft disarray, catching the light in uneven strands. Youâre wearing one of his old shirtsâswallowed by itâand a pair of his pajama pants that you bought him, the drawstring pulled tight and the hems cuffed four times so they donât drag. The fabric hangs off you like you belong in it.
Like you belong here.
You slide your arms around his waist from behind without hesitation, pressing your front to his back, warmth seeping into him instantly. You get on your tip toes as your chin settles on his shoulder, cheek brushing the rough edge of his newly grown stubble as you peer at his reflection with open curiosity.
âJason, babyâŠâ you murmur, studying him in the mirror like heâs something precious and slightly ridiculous.
He snorts softly, but his hands come up automatically to rest over yours where theyâre clasped against his stomach. His thumbs trace absent circles over your knuckles.
âYou loooove it,â he says, stretching the word with heavy sarcasm, though thereâs something almost hopeful beneath it.
You hum, pretending to consider it.
One of your hands slips free and moves up to his face, fingers squishing his cheek gently, testing the scratch of the stubble. Your nose wrinkles.
âHmm,â you decide, lips twitching. âIt's itchy. And the last thing I need is irritation down there.â
Jason exhales through his nose, long and slow, the sound vibrating faintly in his chest before it escapes him.
Mock-offended. Almost dignified about it.
âI donât have a razor,â he says after another indulgent second of you squishing his cheeks like heâs something soft and manageable instead of what he usually is. His words come out slightly warped beneath your fingers. âAnd itâs a holiday⊠stores wonât be open.â
The apartment is quiet in that sacred, late-morning wayâsunlight slipping through the blinds in thin golden blades that cut across tile and skin alike, dust motes suspended lazily in their glow as if even they have decided to rest.Â
Somewhere outside, a car door slams. Distant chatter echoes up from the street. Gotham City hums in the background like a beast half-asleep, never fully docile, but quieter than usual.
âI use a menâs razor,â you mumble thoughtfully, as if youâre offering him a piece of gum instead of a shared blade. âWanna use that? I can disinfect it.â
He stills.
Itâs subtleâthe way his shoulders lift and hold, the way his fingers pause against your wristâbut you feel it. You always feel it. There are certain silences in him that arenât empty; theyâre crowded. This is one of them.
âIâŠâ he starts, and the word drags.
Jason Todd does not drag words. He fires them. He sharpens them. He uses them like tools or weapons, depending on the need. But now it comes out slower, almost shy, like something young and unsure has briefly surfaced beneath the hardened edges.
âI donât know how to shave,â he admits finally, gaze dropping to the sink like itâs suddenly fascinating. âEven⊠before⊠uh. It didnât really grow.â
He doesnât elaborate.
He doesnât have to.
The space after before is heavy, but you donât reach for it. You donât pry it open with sympathy or soften it with apology. You simply hum, soft and thoughtful, and unwind your arms from around him to open the mirror cabinet above the sink.
âWhy now?â you murmur, mostly to yourself.
The hinge creaks faintly as it swings open, bottles clinking together like small glass wind chimes. You reach for the razor with easy certainty, as if youâve already decided the answer to that question doesnât matter nearly as much as what youâre going to do next.
Jason watches you through the mirror.
Why now?
Itâs the same reason heâs gained weightâreal weight, not the kind born of muscle and vigilance, but something warmer, something earned in kitchens and late-night takeout and meals he didnât force himself to finish out of obligation. Thereâs a softness now at his lower belly, subtle but undeniable, a gentle curve where there used to be only rigid lines and constant tension. His shoulders still carry power, his arms still know violence, but his body no longer looks like itâs bracing for impact every second.
He thinks his body is learning how to be happy again.
Like an animal stepping cautiously out of a trap long after the jaws have opened.
Like soil finally allowed to grow something instead of just endure.
He doesnât say that.
âMaybe itâs because youâre always slathering me in your fancy stuff,â he deflects instead, a quiet chuckle warming the edges of his voice as he flicks the toilet seat closed with his foot and lowers himself onto it. âIt probably shocked my face back to life.â
You glance at him over your shoulder, amused, sunlight catching in the loose fall of your hair.
Jason sits there completely naked, utterly unguarded in a way that still feels new enough to be fragile.
The light doesnât hide anything. It travels openly across himâover the scars that ladder his torso, the uneven patches of skin that never healed quite right, the pale lines and darker ones, the geography of damage that used to make him want to flinch away from mirrors entirely. There was a time he would have layered himself in clothing even alone, as if fabric could soften history.
But you didnât run.
The first time you saw him like this, you hadnât looked horrified or pitying. Youâd looked curious. Careful. Your fingers had traced each scar like you were reading braille, mapping him not as something broken, but as something survived. You kissed him afterward the same way you always didâno hesitation, no recalibration.
If you didnât run from that, he doubts youâll run from stubble.
You step back toward him now, razor in hand, a small towel draped over your arm like youâre about to perform something sacred and slightly ridiculous. The scent of your soap lingers faintly, mixed with steam from the sink youâve just run warm water into.
âCâmere,â you murmur.Â
You nudge his knees apart gently and step between them, the casual intimacy of it making something low in his stomach tighten. Your warmth bleeds into him. He instinctively rests his hands at your hips, thumbs pressing lightly into the soft fabric pooled there.
âThis feels like a trap,â Jason mutters, but his voice lacks conviction.
You smile down at himâslow, fond, almost reverentâand press your thumb to his jaw, tilting his face slightly so the light catches the uneven stubble.
âRelax,â you say softly. âIâll take care of you.â
The words arenât dramatic, and aren't grand. But they land in him like something holy.
He tilts his chin up, obedient in a way he never is with anyone else, trusting you with the vulnerable line of his throat. Your touch is deliberate but tender, as if youâre handling something both fragile and fierce.
You rinse the razor under warm water first, testing the temperature against your wrist the way you always do with anything thatâs going to touch him. Steam curls faintly into the air, softening the sharp morning light and turning the bathroom into something gentler, almost hazy. When you open the shaving cream, the scentâclean, subtle, faintly medicinalâmixes with the lavender still clinging to his skin from the night before and fills his senses.
Jason smells like you. He thinks numbly.
âHold still,â you murmur.
He huffs softly. âI am holding still.â
âYouâre flexing.â
âI am notââ
âYou are,â you insist, smiling a little as your fingers press into his jaw, encouraging him to unclench.
He forces his shoulders to drop.
Jason isnât used to being handled like this. In training, contact is correctionâforceful, precise, meant to overpower. In fights, itâs impactâbruising, brutal, survival measured in split seconds. Even affection, in most corners of his life, is clapped onto backs or ruffled through hair, rough-edged and fleeting.
But this?
This is his hot girlfriend taking care of him.Â
You spread the shaving cream slowly, fingertips gliding over his jaw, working it into the uneven terrain of scar tissue and smoother skin alike. Youâre meticulous about it, smoothing the foam into the curve beneath his cheekbone, along the sharp line of his jaw, over the stubborn patch just beneath his lower lip.
Your touch changes when you reach the scars.
Not hesitant. Not afraid.
Just attentive.
You adjust the pressure instinctively, tracing the raised line near his chin with your thumb before coating it gently. Jason watches your face instead of the mirror now. The focus there. The way your brows knit in concentration. The small crease that forms between them when youâre trying to get something exactly right.
âYou donât have to look at me like Iâm hurt and you need to patch me up,â he mutters.
You glance up at him through your lashes. "I'm not. I'd prefer that right now. At least you sit still when I patch you up.â
He snorts quietly despite himself.
The razor touches his skin for the first time.
Itâs a soft, almost inaudible scrape. A delicate drag that removes the shadow in a clean stripe, revealing pale skin beneath. You move slowly, rinsing the blade after each careful stroke, watching for any sign of discomfort.
Jason feels it more than he expected to.
Not painâjust awareness. The sensation of something being removed. Of change happening in real time.Â
That sounds dramatic. He scolds himself in his own head. It's just hair. Hair he would have died to grow when he was seven and desperate to be tall enough to steal from the top shelf.
The warm water trickles down his neck in thin lines when you wipe away excess foam, your fingers following to catch it before it drips too far.
He swallows once when you tilt his head slightly to the side, exposing more of his throat.
âYou trust me?â you ask lightly, but thereâs something real beneath it.
He doesnât hesitate this time.
âYeah.â
The answer is simple. Immediate.
Your thumb rests just below his ear as you guide the razor along the sensitive stretch of skin near his jawline. The intimacy of it hums between you, quiet but undeniable. He can feel your breath ghosting across his cheek.Â
His hands, which had been resting loosely at your waist, slide upward without thinking. One settles at your lower back, palm spreading there. The other drifts higher, fingers grazing the fabric at your ribs, tracing the outline of you through cotton.
You pause when you reach the faintly discolored patch near the corner of his jawâthe place where the skin never quite grew back the same.
âDoes this one still feel tight?â you ask softly.
âSometimes,â he admits.
You donât comment on it. You just adjust the angle of the razor and move even slower, barely any pressure at all, your other hand steadying his face with gentle firmness.
Jasonâs eyes close for a second.
He lets them.
Thereâs something almost reverent about the way you do this. Like youâre not just shaving him, but tending to him. Like this small, ordinary act is a way of saying: I see all of it. Iâm not afraid of any of it.
When you finally finish one side, you lean back slightly to inspect your work, head tilting.
âLook at that,â you murmur. âSexy jawline coming back.â
âNever left,â Jason says automatically with a shit eating grin.
You grin. âSure, baby.â
You rinse the razor again, then shift to the other side, fingers brushing through the faint shadow still there. The bathroom is quiet except for the sound of running water and the soft rhythm of your breathing mingling with his.
He watches you again.
The way your hair falls forward over your shoulder and nearly brushes his chest before you tuck it back absentmindedly. The way you donât seem to notice how intimate this isâhow your hands cradle his face like something precious.
When youâre done, you wipe the last traces of foam away with the warm towel, pressing it gently along his jaw, then down his throat.
âThere,â you whisper.
You smooth your palm over his cheek, testing it. Your thumb lingers at the corner of his mouth.
âMuch better.â
Jason turns his face slightly into your hand.
The movement is instinctive. Almost feline.
He looks at himself in the mirror again.
The stubble is gone. The scars remain. The crooked nose. The tired eyes.
But thereâs something different in the way heâs sitting. Less guarded. Less braced. Like he isnât waiting for the mirror to betray him.
He slides both arms fully around your waist now and pulls you closer until your hips press flush against his chest. He rests his forehead against your sternum, exhaling slowly, breathing you in.
âYouâre gonna make me soft,â he mutters against your skin.
Your fingers comb gently through his messy hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.
âThats the goal,â you say.
And for once, the idea doesnât sound like a threat.
Im gonna be honest I had a shit day and this felt like the only was I could talk to someone lmao don't got any other method, don't take this as me coming back frfr cus people are mean here too
âșââ đ€ ââșâ MRS. ROBINSON // neighbor!jason todd x milf!reader
ËËđąÖŽà»âË summary: you're so fucked. you shouldn't be debating ending your relationship with your neighbor jason, who's seven years your junior... who babysits your daughter. yet, here you are, fighting the urge to call him over.
ËËđąÖŽà»âË tags: MDNI, oneshot (?), fluff, smut (p in v sex, fem receiving oral, vaginal fingering, handjobs, switch!reader and jason, softdom leaning!reader, sub leaning!jason, tit sucking, breeding kink, slight praise kink, doggy style, jason todd mommy kink) reader has a seven-year-old daughter and is a single mom, reader and jason have a seven-year age gap (22-29), not canon compliant, canon divergence, batfam have stable relationships with each other, jason being great with kids, high school drama teacher!reader, NOT BETAâD/PROOFREAD
ËËđąÖŽà»âË author's note: hey :D i donât know if i like this. it took me too long. but it's done!
ËËđąÖŽà»âË word count: 10.5k
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Itâs a sick thing. Every mother has her worst fears regarding how she'll fail as a mother. They fester beneath the surface, waiting to reveal themselves until the worst possible moment, the moment you let your guard completely down. When you finally think you're safe or content, the moments you plan to cherish are ruined in seconds flat. Thereâs no more worrying about becoming a bad mother. Youâve become a cougar. What specifics would grant a woman the title, you're not entirely sure. Does it count if thereâs only been one... well, you wouldnât exactly call it an incident. A happy accident, perhaps. But thatâs also what you say about your daughter, Mia.
Tonight, Mia is at her first-ever sleepover- sheâs been rattling endlessly about how excited she is to have her âvery first sleepoverâ with her âvery best friendâ, and she ran right out of your arms when you had dropped her off at her friendâs house. Youâre sitting on the couch wrapped in a K-Pop Demon Hunters blanket, courtesy of Mia, with your knees tucked into your chest. The television plays Real Housewives of Salt Lake City in the background, and your second glass of chardonnay sits half-empty. Itâs Friday night, and you would typically be having a better time, but youâve been stuck with an aching feeling in your gut for the past few hours. You know sheâs just excited to experience something new and true to girlhood, that her little six-year-old brain isnât quite ready to become independent from her mother, but you canât help but feel like sheâs growing up quicker than you can process it. That feeling has unfortunately tainted other aspects of your life youâve been kicking yourself over, like the issue that glares back at you in straining blue light. You canât quite peel your eyes away, despite the static page you stare at.
Jason Todd
Monday, 8:48 PM
hi
i can admit that tonight made things pretty
fucking weird
itâs not that big of a deal to me, but iâm
sorry and i understand if you need time
Read
You suddenly feel yourself starting to regret pouring that second glass of chardonnay, because suddenly, you find yourself typing a response after almost four whole days of ignoring him. Well, more like avoiding him. Deeply embarrassing on your part, the lack of maturity was a lapse you wish would never happen again. You hoped the issue would go away, as if you could snap your fingers and Jason would be out of your life, and all guilt would be absolved. But it isnât that simple, nor would the consequences be, and now you just want to smash your head into a wall.
You
Friday, 7:32 PM
Hey
Are you available right now? Miaâs at a
sleepover tonight
Delivered
You bite your lip, nails tapping at your phone case as the uneasy feeling in your gut coaxes more anxiety out of you. But you should know better. Within thirty seconds of the text, the âdeliveredâ label turns into a âreadâ, and the typing bubble immediately pops up.
Jason Todd
Friday, 7:33 PM
yeah
be over in a sec
Delivered
A sigh of relief escapes you as the screen lights up with your thumbs-up sticker. Putting your phone down, you shift your attention back to the television, grabbing your wine glass as you watch The Housewives witness a Greek tragedy play based on themselves. But what the hell are you sighing for? You can't be thirty with a situationship. You need to sort this shit out.
--
The dynamic of your relationship with Jason is something out of a rom-com. In the beginning, he was just your super-cute, Gotham-bred, brand-new next-door neighbor.
Jason moved into his apartment in the middle of hot, sweltering July with a pair of crutches and a broken leg. You knew the moment you heard a gaggle of voices and shuffling in the apartment next door that somebody was finally moving into the neighboring unit; it had been empty ever since your old neighbors decided to move out and into a nice house in the suburbs, following their wedding and subsequent pregnancy. Lucky them.
You opened your front door and stuck your head out to catch people moving boxes into the unit. The door accidentally closed behind them, and all that was left was Jason. Both of you froze. He stared. You blinked.
You blinked, and with every one came a snapshot, a new way of seeing him, every time. The curly black locks tangled up with a brush of ivory. A scar on his brow, a scar on his neck, a couple on his jaw, and a lengthy one on his cheek. He felt straight out of a book-- but you weren't sure what the story was.
Thankfully, your daydreaming was interrupted as Mia ran out of the apartment in an ambush and shouted, âMommy, whatâs all that!?ââat the same time, a little girl ran out next door and shoutedââJay! Which room is your bedroom?â
Your eyes softened in silent appreciation at the sight of Mia, your shoulders dropping. Curls bouncing, Mia stuck her head out the door and saw the other little girl next to her uncle. She pointed to her with an inquisitive look. âAre you my new neighbor?â
The little girl shook her head no. âUh-uh, Jason is. But he doesnât have any kids because he doesnât have a girlfriend or wife. Or boyfriend.â
Jasonâs cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he leaned over to his niece and whispered in a strained but hushed voice. âLian, we donât share personal information with people we donât know.â
You attempted to stifle your laugh, but your amusement was cut short by your daughter. âThatâs okay, my mommy doesnât have a girlfriend or boyfriend either. And she calls my daddy a shithead.â
âMia!â Both of the girls began to giggle at your horrified expression. You didnât mind the fact that Mia called her dad a shithead--he is, which is why he fucked off to nowhere when Mia was two-- but you felt you were being humiliated by children who laughed at your inability to compose yourself. âIâm so sorry, we can get out of your hair, I was just curiousââ
âDonât worry âbout it,â Jason interrupted. His fingers combed through his hair. âNice to meet you, ladies. Jason.â He propped himself up on his crutches and stuck a hand out for you to hold. You cringed as your hand met his a little more enthusiastically than planned.
Strong hands. Rough and strong, you thought to yourself. Wondering about his occupation in the back of your mind, you continued on with introductions, âAnd this is my daughter, Mia.â
Swaying on her heels in the doorway, Mia waved to Jason with a shy smile on her face, her cheeks slightly warm from laughter. âHi, Mr. Jason. I hope you really like your apartment and you make it look all nice and cool.â
âIâll do what I can, but these ainât gonna help.â He knocked his knuckle against one of his crutches.
Mia's eyes darted to his cast, taking in the plaster that spanned from his thigh to his ankle. She pursed her lips. âWhat happened to your leg?â
Jason swayed his head for a moment, like he was trying to edit out minor details before settling on an appropriate story for Mia. âI got into a car accident. Doc says Iâll be cleared in a couple of weeks, though. âS why we always make sure to wear our seatbelts, yeah?â Jasonâs eyes crinkled at Mia, eliciting a shy tug of a smile at her lips.
A little hand tugged at the end of your shirt. You leant down to Miaâs height, and she cupped her hands over your ear, whispering quietly so Jason couldnât hear her question. You smiled in response. âThatâs for you to ask him, sweetheart.â
Jasonâs brows perked up at the sound of a question. Mia began to hide behind your legs, shy to ask her question of her new neighbor. âMr. Jason, could I sign your cast?â
Jason opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Lian, who jumped and burst out, âYES! You can put it right next to my name! Let her sign it, Jay! Please?â She shook his arm as she begged and buzzed with excitement.
With a chuckle, Jason resigned, against not much opposition, and said, âOf course you can, kid. Got any markers on ya?â
âYeah! Mommy got me sparkly markers last week!â Mia ran inside your apartment to retrieve said pack of markersâ you bought them for her after she had been expressing an interest in art and drawing. Little sketches and pictures hang up on your fridge inside, all signed with her name in uppercase.
She came back quickly, markers in hand, walked up to Jason and held out the pack to him. âWhich color is your favorite?â
Jason thought for a second, crossed his arms and smiled. âDefinitely red.â
Miaâs eyes widened and lit up in response. âOh my gosh. We have the same favorite color!â
âThat's because only the coolest people in the world love red.â Jason lowered his hand so Mia could high-five him in celebration.
Your heart warmed in your chest. He seemed like a sweet guy and a nice neighbor. You admired the way he connected with Mia so easily despite just meeting her, which meant that he was pretty good with kids. It was an admirable trait. A trait that came in handy when you needed an emergency babysitter.
Jasonâs weeks of recovery were interrupted by you, drowning in work and responsibility, unable to hold the load by yourself. It wasnât like you didnât have a babysitter for Mia, you knew your schedule as a teacher and you knew youâd have to find someone who could watch her for the time you and your students had after school rehearsal. Unfortunately for you, the college girl who had been Miaâs babysitter for the last year and a half accepted a job offer across the country in Star City, which meant you were stuck finding an emergency babysitter.
When you knocked on Jasonâs door, you saw the situation as a favor, something youâd pay him back for and it would be a one and done situation. You had been helping him out the last couple of weeks with groceries he couldn't carry, shelves he couldnât extend to reach. It was no issue to you, he was hurt and youâd do anything to help out a neighbor-- besides, watching a child is a whole different story, takes a whole different skillset than carrying groceries and reaching for items.
He agreed immediately, expressing his appreciation for the little favors and tasks you had aided him with over the past few weeks, gratitude evident in his face. Mia was buzzing in her place, eager to spend time with Jason, her new neighbor who bought a pack of Blow Pops just to give to her.
After you heard a âcome in!â from beyond his door, you entered Jasonâs apartment to find Mia and Jason sitting at his dining table, sharing chocolate chip cookies with cardboard princess crowns on their heads. The two of them were drawing together, markers spread out across Jason's dining table. Miaâs eyes shifted your way, and she called out a distracted, âHi, mommy,â before she returned her attention to her drawing.
You shook your head with a laugh, walked over to her and Jason and took a seat at the table next to her. Brushing her hair from her face, you gave her a kiss on the cheek. âHey, bug. You had a nice time with Jason?â
Mia nodded as she reached for her cookie and took a big bite out of it before speaking. âWeâre drawing now,â she spoke with her mouth full. Youâd remember to remind her of her manners later.
âDrawing, huh? I wasnât aware you were also an artist, Jay?â You joked as you saw a dragon on Jasonâs paper that looked like something a child drew blindfolded.
You blushed as he shrugged and flashed a shy smile. âIâve had a couple lessons here and there from my brother, and now this little Van Gogh right here, right Mia?â He sent a silly wink to her and she giggled in response.
Mia picked up her picture and held it out to you, a big old grin on her face. âLook! I drew me as a princess and Jay is a princess too and weâre riding on a big dragon! Do you like my dragon, mommy?â
âOh, I love your dragon! Itâs so awesome, sweetheart!â The dragon was red, courtesy of Jason and Miaâs favorite color, and was breathing purple fire from its mouth. Inspired choices.
âWe were playing princess and the dragon today, which turned into princess teatime, which eventually turned into art lessons. A busy afternoon was had,â Jason said. He watched Mia finish up the last details on her drawing with a smile on his face, and your heart warmed.
âMommy?â
âYeah, bug?â
âCan Jason be my new babysitter?â Mia looked at Jason, her face suddenly serious, eyes wide. âShe can pay you with her big girl money. She has a lot of big girl money.â
You scrunched your brows in a panic. âNo, she doesnât. But she does have some for a babysitter, yes,â you looked at Jason and your shoulders tightened. You felt bad asking him knowing he was already facing inconveniences. With a shrug, you asked, âIf thatâs something you would be interested in? Itâs totally fine if you canât--â
âIâll do it.â He responded, as if he was as certain as ever. With a smile on his face, he leaned over to ruffle Miaâs hair. âBesides, whoâs gonna teach me how to be the next Picasso?â
From there on, Jason would watch Mia during the week while you had rehearsals for your schoolâs production of Little Shop of Horrors. Directing a high school play was demanding, but unlike other directors you actually had a soul, so Jason would never have to watch Mia past seven oâclock until hell week came. She raved on and on to you about weekday dinner with Jason.
Now, Jason was a fantastic babysitter. There was no doubt about that. He would sometimes bake with Mia when they had enough time together or indulge her in all of her playtime ideas, but once his leg finally healed and his cast came off, he and Mia were going on adventures together.
One day, they went to the aquarium together, which left you with a kid full of marine science facts loaded in her arsenal of a brain for the rest of the week. Another day, they went to go see a movie together and Mia picked up Jasonâs habit of adding M&Mâs to his popcorn. Some nights, Jason would come over to join you and Mia for dinner once you got home, and on other nights, he roped Mia into making a nice dinner for you.
And these are all wonderful things. Deeply wonderful things. But they started making you second-guess yourself. They started⊠the issue.
Because the thing about a man doing these things for a single mom, going above and beyond to make her life easier, is an extremely sexy thing.
You want to blame it on the craze that comes from the lack of a significant other, the constant urge to find someone to share the load and your heart with, the celibacy-- the obvious lack of a father figure for Mia. But you canât excuse the things youâve already done.
It started with lingering touches and wandering eyes.
It was getting warmer in Gotham, spring was fading into the gentle greeting of summertime. Jason had been babysitting Mia for a few months, and had been your neighbor for almost a year. You invited him to come with you and Mia up to the boardwalk on the shore, about an hour-and-a-half north of Gotham.
He walked into your apartment that morning with a smile and a backpack of items for you, Mia, and himself. Almost like a dadâs typical go-bag. Among the items were sunscreen for everyone, snacks packed for you since he knew you'd worry about Mia, and a first aid kit in case anything happened. Jason himself was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of cargo shorts that showed off those scars you never found yourself asking about. The sun brought out a litter of freckles that dusted his shoulders and nose.
As he walked into the living room, he caught sight of you slinking out of your bedroom. You were wearing a short-sleeved button-up shirt that was more low-cut than your usual teacher attire. His eyes were locked in on the curve of your bust peeking from the neckline, as if they were to say, Hi, Jason! We exist! You turned the corner to walk into the bathroom, mindlessly calling out, âHey, Jay!â
Cursing himself, he turned away quickly, a warm flush creeping up his body. âHey,â he greeted meekly, lips spread into a thin line, âMorning.â
In the bathroom, you studied your reflection in the mirror. You had caught him looking from the corner of your eye. No one had looked at you like that for a long while, especially when you were out with your daughter, and you failed to consider it becoming any kind of reality. It hadn't been an intentional move to bait him into anything.
You wouldnât. You wouldnât mess this up for her. For you. You couldn't take advantage of the relationship you and Jason had to fulfill your own selfish wants and needs. But you couldnât help but feel curious. You couldnât help but wonder if this was just a one-time occurrence: if it was just the nature of Jason being a young man who also had his own desires and turn-ons. But there was also the possibility of Jason genuinely being attracted to you, which only piqued your curiosity.
You hated what-ifs. So you wanted to figure it out.
That day, the three of you spent an exciting, jam-packed day at the boardwalk. You had all spent some time at the beach, swimming along the light blue waves and under the scorching sun. You withheld yourself from stealing glances at Jason for too long, but he was delicious eye candy. On the boardwalk, Mia and Jason attempted most of the games, earning her a couple of stuffed animals to bring home. Mia was cuddling Pikachu in her sleep within the first twelve minutes of the drive back.
The next day, you invited Jason over to Sunday night dinner. The gathering wasn't anything out of the blue; in fact, Jason had been coming over for dinner about half the nights of the month, and vice versa. However, the energy in the air had shifted by now. You were giving in to some of your... curiosities.
âHi, Jay!â You heard Mia greet the second the door opened. She ran to Jason with her arms out and open for a hug, and he scooped her up onto his hip.
âWell, hello to you too, princess,â he placed a kiss upon her head. âHow has your day been, sweetheart?â
âIt was good! Mommy and I did puzzles together, and then we went to the grocery store and she let me get all the stuff and put it in the cart, and then we made the fancy fries with potatoes.â
âOh, really?â he asked, walking the two of them into the kitchen where your back was turned as you stood at the stove. A brow archedâ he noticed you were wearing a tank top. âHow did those fancy fries turn out?â
You turned around from the stove, and Jason was met with a braless you, standing there in a thin-ass tank top. To anyone normal, you just looked like a mom cooking in a hot kitchen on a hot day, but to Jason, you looked like sex on fire. This was by far one of the more revealing outfits you had worn around him, besides that one time you went out clubbing for your sister's birthday, and he babysat Mia. Smudged eyeliner, ripped tights, messy lipstick--
â--Theyâre turning out pretty well as far as I can tell,â Your eyes seemed to glimmer at him, but Jason wasnât sure if he was just making things up. He already felt insane, having to clear his throat in the subtlest way possible. âWanna try one?â You asked, holding up a fry.
Mia nodded her head quickly. âYes! Theyâre sooo yummy! I helped cut them.â
Jason gave a tight smile, warring with the thoughts in his head dismantling the defenses he oh-so-carefully built upon meeting you, his hot MILF neighbor who was sweet on him and whose daughter he babysat. Get it together, Jason.
âYeah, Iâd love to,â he agreed. What he didnât expect was for you to waltz over to him and feed it to him. You tapped his chin, and he opened his mouth, his eyes staring at you as you quickly popped it in his mouth and lifted his jaw shut.
âGood?â you asked once he began to slowly chew.
He awkwardly nodded back in agreement. Once he finished, he turned to Mia in a hurry. With a swift clap, he asked, âHow about we get the dinner table set up for your mom, yeah?â
Squeezing out a bright smile, Mia nodded her head. âOkay!â
As the two of them began to grab plates and utensils, you turned back to the stove and cringed at yourself. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren;t going to make a move. You were too far gone for this to be some innocent 'research.'
--
The rest of dinner was spent listening to Mia gab on-and-on about her playtime adventures. Jason, who was usually as talkative as Mia was, had barely anything to say. In fact, he spent most of the dinner refusing to look up at you and establish eye contact, which was strange considering he was sitting right across from you, eating the delicious dinner you made for him. If you had to guess, it was probably because he couldnât look at you without having to fight the urge to let his pupils fall down, down down...
As soon as everyone was finished eating, Jason immediately hopped up from his seat and offered to do the dishes while actively walking away to do said dishes. That meant that you were free to get Mia ready for bed, which you proceeded to do a bit quicker than usual. As you were putting on her pajamas, she asked you if Jason would read her a bedtime story, which, of course, he would. When Mia was finally done brushing her teeth, she greeted you goodnight and skipped to her bedroom holding Pikachu, shouting, âJay Jay! Bedtime story, please!â
You went to your room to get ready. Not for bed, but for the rest of the night. You typically liked to chill on the couch with a glass of wine to wind down for the night. While you picked your own set of pajamas, the thought of Jason lingered in the back of your head-- perhaps due to the fact that you could hear him narrating Alice in Wonderland from down the hallway.
As your eyes scanned your dresser, you caught a pair of low-cut black shorts you used to wear to bed back when you had people sleeping in your bed. You grabbed a shoulder-cropped T-shirt and changed clothes with a small smirk on your face.
When Mia was comfortably asleep in her bed, Jason finally came back out to the living room. You were on the couch, legs stretching out as you leaned on your side, a glass of red wine in your hand.
Jason mentally cursed himself. Relax. Sheâs just settling down for the night.
âHow was she?â
âShe was great; she settled in pretty quickly. Read around two chapters tonight.
âThatâs nice.â
âYeah, it is,â he smiled as he put his hands in his jean pockets. He shifted his weight around for a moment until he began to speak again, âHey, uh, thanks for dinner and everything tonight. I think Iâm gonnaââ
ââWould you like to stay for a bit?â Your satiny voice cut through the deluge of excuses that ran through Jasonâs head. âI can pour you a glass if youâd like. You drink Malbec?â
Trying to find his bearings, Jason took a deep breath. âUh, yeah. Iâd like that.â
You gave him a small smile as you stood up to grab his own glass, and he took a seat on the couch across from the side you were just draped against. His heart was beating like a hummingbird in a cage. Was that sweat on his brow? Did it get warmer? He took his clammy hands out of his pockets and quickly rubbed the sweat off on his jeans. You returned promptly with a glass for him and a smile still on your face.
âThis is nice,â you commented as you returned to your spot on the couch. âThe two of us. Chilling. Weâve never done this, no?â
With a sniff, Jason tried to pass off nonchalance. âUh, yeah, we havenât. Sâ cool.â
âCool?â You questioned, your brow arching.
Jason sputtered. âNo, Iâm sorry, I just mean-â
You cut him off with a sickly sweet laugh, the tone of your voice immediately bringing Jason out of his spiral into embarrassment. âJason, sweetie, thereâs no need to worry about it,â you soothe, placing a hand onto his shoulder. The sloped collar of your shirt that hung off your shoulder slightly fell to tease a view of the curve of your breasts to Jason, leaving him with a deep feeling at the pit of his stomach and an unwelcome feeling that began to creep up onto him: perversion.
In that moment, he wanted you to mount him, strip your shirt off, and let him get his mouth on those gorgeous fucking tits of yours. He wanted to drown in them, let you suffocate him as he hungrily sucked and mouthed at your tits, worshipping you the way you deserved.
His thoughts were interrupted by you slowly moving closer to him on the couch. âListen, Jason,â you purred, voice trickling into his ear like honey. Your hand on his shoulder readjusted, the tips of your fingers gently caressing his skin. âI just wanted to really thank you for everything youâve done for Mia and I over the last few months. Youâve just been so amazing to us, especially to Mia. I mean, she absolutely adores you.â
Jasonâs lips tugged up in a smile. âReally?â
âAbsolutely. I also just really appreciate everything youâve done for us. Youâre kind⊠youâre thoughtful⊠youâre attentive.â Your lashes fluttered as your eyes met his with a soft glimmer. âYouâve just been⊠so good to me, Jason.â
In that moment, Jason knows heâs truly fucked. There are two reasons for that: youâve officially caught on to his crush on you, and he was on your couch, the most bricked up heâd ever been in his life.
The wine glass in his hand was held with a tight fist. His cock was strained through his jeans, the large imprint of a bulge the most obvious sight in the room, almost impossible to miss. Your eyes were still glued to his face. He was entirely red, from his chest to the tips of his ears. His weak attempt at preserving any semblance of coolness was almost adorable.
He tried to talk, but his voice caught in his throat and came out cracked. On his second try, he bit out, âFuck, âm sorry.â
You brought the hand on his shoulder to his cheek. His eyes quickly darted away from your own, landing on the rug on your floor. âWhat are you apologizing for, hon?â Jason cleared his throat, shooting a quick glance at the tent in his pants. Your eyes widened. âYouâre apologizing for this?â
Jason nodded in shame, his head bowed. âYouâre basically my boss! I know itâs gotta be a sick fucking thing, the way youâre always on my mind, and when I close my eyes, Iââ he confessed.
âJay, honey, look at me.â He lifted his head and peered at you through black and white strands. You gave him a pitiful look and brushed your thumb back and forth against his cheek. âFor how long?â
As hard as he tried to keep his composure, he sniffled, a pathetic and pained look on his face. âAlways.â
Your heart skipped a beat.
Had Jason really been attracted to you the whole time? Were you missing the signs along the way that spelled it out before it became so obvious? Or was he just saying this to sugar you up? You would fuck him, heâd get a bonus, and eventually ditch you.
Jason seemed to notice how you were getting caught in your head, and he reached up to hold your hand that was against his cheek. His thumb gently caressed the inside of your wrist. âYou okay?â
You blinked, slowly coming back to your senses. There was no reason for you to ruin this moment. You had Jason practically in your lap, soft as a pile of putty, with a blush on his face and a soft look in his eyes.
âOf course,â you replied. âIâm just happy to know you feel the same way I do.â
Jasonâs eyes lit up, and a smile broke out on his features. âYeah?â He asked, as if he couldnât believe it until he had direct confirmation.
âAbsolutely. I thought I was crazy for trying this!â
The man let out a relieved sigh, his eyes trailing to your lips as you beamed at him. He attempted to adjust his position on the couch in an attempt to face you fully, but an almost-whimper escaped him as his previously forgotten hard-on strained against the fabric of his jeans.
âOh, fuck,â he groaned.
His desperation elicited a soft hum from you. âSweet boy,â you whispered gently. You took the wine glass from his hand and placed it down onto the coffee table in front of you. Reaching for his hand, you stood up from the couch. âHow about we head to my room, yeah?â
He gave an eager nod and immediately rose to his feet, his hand latching onto yours in a gentle hold. The two of you shuffled into your bedroom, and you closed the door behind you as quietly as possible as Jason stood in the middle of the room. The air in the room shifted as you turned around and walked up to Jason. His breath hitched as you held his hands in yours.
âJason.â
âHm?â
âAs much as Iâd love to get the full experience, my kid is two doors down the hall, so we need to keep it down low.â
His lips curved into that familiar bashful grin of his. âIâll be as quiet as a church mouse,â he joked. His eyes trailed to your lips; your mouth had quirked up into a doting smile. âNow, can I please kiss you?â
âOf course, honey.â
With your permission, Jasonâs hands came up and gently held your face in his palms before he slowly leaned in. The kiss started off a bit hesitant, as if both of you couldnât believe the situation you were in. But Jason was there, with you, holding your face in his hands and kissing you like it was something he never deserved. But he did, and you wanted nothing more than to prove it to him.
One of your hands snaked up his back and to the nape of his neck, where your fingers immediately found purchase in his soft black locks. Your other hand came up to Jasonâs waist and gave you the leverage you needed to pull him closer into you and deepen your kiss. You swiped your tongue across Jasonâs lips, and they parted instantly, giving you access to his warm mouth. He was slowly but surely moving the two of you backwards, the slowly-building passion of your kiss rendering him absolutely weak, and soon enough the two of you found yourselves falling backwards onto your plush bed.
Jasonâs hands were stuck on your face, so you took one of them and guided it to your waist, breaking apart from the kiss quickly to say, âYou can touch me anywhere you want to, Jay.â
His eyes widened, and he let out a quiet exhale and nodded in response. Soon after, his lips chased after yours to kiss you again. As he kissed you again, this time slower and sweeter, he tried to memorize the way you tasted on his tongue. With the desire to explore you, his hands had begun to caress and paw at your body, squeezing at your curves and searching for your warmth.
As he explored your mouth, his hands maneuvered you on top of him, so you were straddling his waist as your kisses deepened. Refusing to break away from the kiss, you tugged Jasonâs bottom lip in between your teeth, pulling a needy little gasp from his lips. He wiggled around beneath you, his cock heavy and pulsing in his jeans, trying to do anything but grind up into you fully. Your lips trailed down to his neck, tongue dragging the veins under his heated skin.
A smile crept up on your face as you began to give playful nips to his neck. Your cool breath tickled his skin as your teeth caught on the junction by his shoulder, your hands slowly creeping under his shirt. His abdomen was warm and soft under your touch, and he shivered slightly at the feeling of fingertips ghosting over his skin.
âCould you take this off for me?â you asked, tugging at his shirt. Jason complied, quickly ridding himself of his top to reveal a scarred but beautiful torso he had. Your eyes quickly trailed to what looked like an autopsy scar that spanned the length of his chest. Jason watched your face for any traces of judgement, but found nothing. Instead, you looked him dead in the eyes and said, âI want to eat you like a fucking popsicle.â
It wasnât long until Jasonâs pants were stripped, and soon his underwear, with your clothing landing on the floor not long afterwards. You sat in his lap, the two of you sharing languid, hungry kisses as Jasonâs hips began to rut up into yours, his hard-on finally receiving attention after being ignored for so long. Your heats met with dizzying friction, wetness seeping from your clothed cunt and dampening the fabric beneath it.
With every thrust of his hips, Jason let out a soft moan, the pleasure leaving him buzzing. You whined as the head of his cock brushed against your lace-covered clit and his right thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a lightning strike of arousal into your core, leaving you gasping for more. âFuck, Jay.â
âYeah, ma?â Jason breathed out. His right thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a sharp feeling of pleasure down into your core, leaving you gasping for more. âSâokay if I taste you for a sec? Need to see how sweet that pussy tastes.â
His words sent a chill up your spine, and you shivered in anticipation. âDo whatever you want,â you breathed out.
His smile broke into a grin, and he got off the bed to stand at the edge, grabbing your legs and pulling you his way. You watched as he sank to his knees, his hands finding purchase on your thighs as his knees met the floor. Hands slipping under your panties, he began to slowly slide them down your legs, until they were fully off and he threw them across the room. You watched as his pupils dilated at the sight of your pussy. His jaw dropped, mouth watering.
He wrapped his arms around your thighs, bringing your heat closer to his mouth. Starry-eyed, he flattened his tongue against your clit, lapping at the bundle of nerves, eager to draw out your slick juices. You began to lose yourself in the pleasure, your hips jerking up to meet his mouth. You find yourself trying to memorize the way he grips your hips: how his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, soft enough to not bruise, but firm enough to handle you.
The sound of Jason beginning to slurp and messily lap at your weeping hole began to fill the room. He wasnât being quiet enough. You found your fingers tugging at the back of his head, latching onto his curly locks and tugging him into your cunt to muffle his noises. Jason let out a groan in response, his hips bucking into the side of the plush mattress.
You whimpered as you felt his finger begin to tease your hole, slowly but surely pumping in and out of your plush and soaked folds. Once the length of his digit was fully sheathed in you, he added another, then crooked his fingers slightly upwards, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips.
He pulled his mouth away from your pussy. âShh, ma. We gotta be quiet, remember?â You whined in response, your hips chasing after his mouth.
Your fingers curled into the sheets as Jasonâs lips wrapped around your clit, softly humming in relief as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. He added a third finger alongside the previous two, and you fluttered at the stretch of your pussy. Your head lolled to the side as you felt your orgasm begin to approach, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the more Jasonâs nose bumped into your clit as his tongue met his fingers at your sopping hole.
âFuck, Iâm gonna cum, baby,â you strained out, hips wriggling in the hold of Jasonâs arm. The fingers inside you got deeper, quicker, and Jasonâs bicep flexed as he curved his fingers within you. You felt the sharp knife of heated pleasure encroaching, until it finally cut at the rope of tension and you fell into your orgasm.
You came with a wrecked whimper, a result of a poorly suppressed moan, and Jason continuously lapped at your wetness, his fingers, mouth, and nose completely drenched in slick. He cleaned you up until your thighs began to spasm from overstimulation, weak little whines pulled from your lips.
Jason got up from the ground and back onto the bed with you. His eyes pinned on you in frozen devotion. You smirked, deciding to straddle his lap again. Jason looked absolutely disheveled-- pre-cum pooling on his stomach, with silky strings of pearls that formed each time his cock twitched in anticipation. Your breath caught at the look within his eyes. How could he ever maintain his composure around you now that youâve had his fingers in your cunt?
âJason.â
âMhm?â
âFeeling okay?â
He blinked slowly. âMâ fine. I just--â he paused completely for a moment. Your fingertips tapped lightly over the freckles adoring his flesh, the raised scars amassed from whatever past heâd left behind. With a clearing of his throat, he regained his bearings and met your gaze, his lips pursing into a shy smile. âIâve wanted to feel you like this for so long,â he admits.
With a heated hand, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light. âI hope itâs everything you ever wanted,â you whispered in a low tone.
He let out a needy little gasp the second your hand made contact with his weeping cock. You lifted your hips, eyes refusing to leave Jasonâs as you lined up his cock with your weeping slit and began to sink down. His cock slowly entered your warmth, his hips stuttering as a whimper was forced from his throat. He watched your lids drop into a hooded expression as you began to realize how much he was struggling with your tightness around him. You let out a chuckle. âYou good, honey?â
Jason choked out a moan, his voice straining as pleasure began to consume him whole. You began a slow grind on his cock, deliberately dragging your cunt over his tip for longer before slamming down onto his length, no warning. âYouâre just⊠youâre so fuckinâ tight, ma,â his voice trembled, nails digging crescents into his thighs.
âThereâs no reason for you to hold back, baby,â you comment after catching him trying to resist. He looked downright sinful: his curls sticking to dewy skin, misted emerald eyes that seemed to only beg for more, and greedy, possessive marks you left behind, tattered on his skin to become tomorrowâs problem. He looked absolutely divine. You were so fucked.
You began to pick up the pace of your hips, and Jason squirmed in delight as you milked more and more of his length with your cunt, dropping until he was fully buried to the hilt. Jason gasped, head thrown back in ecstasy.
âCâmon, Jay,â you purred against his ear. âShow me how much youâve been wanting thisâŠâ
âFuck, okay, okay.â
When the high was over, you went down with a slow slump onto Jasonâs chest. You were almost heaving as you attempted to catch your breath. Jason rolled both of you over, and a groan left you as he slowly pulled out of you.
âOh, messy girlââ he cooed. There was a pool of cum where you and Jason were connected, slowly seeping from your hole and onto your thighs and ass. ââIâll get you cleaned up, sweetheart.â He moved away, the warmth of his body disappearing, but you felt his arms lay you down against the pillows, adjusting you to be as comfortable as possible.
âThank you,â you whisper.
âDonât worry âbout it.â He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before standing up and swiping a washcloth from your dresser drawer.
How he knew where those were, you donât know. Had he been around you enough that he finally knew where all your things were? Or had he been tracking that from the start, out of consideration? Fuck, was Mia about to wake up and discover Jason still in your apartment? Would you have to sneak him out of the apartment before she woke up? Would he even be staying?
Before you could spiral more, Jason came back into the bedroom with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Your questions went unanswered as he softly wiped at the mess in between your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your face in between. You kept your thoughts to yourself as he helped you get dressed for the night, tucked you in, and turned off the light. You didnât bat an eye when you felt him get under the covers next to you, or when he kissed you goodnight.
You werenât sure what it would turn into, this thing between Jason and you. But what you did know, when it was an hour later, the sheets had been tousled about, and Jason Toddâs body was lax in your arms, warm breath against your chest, was that you were sure you loved this man. He knew you better than anyone else, and youâd officially reached the point of your relationship where you wanted him more than you had ever anticipated. And it scared you.
Perhaps that fear was always a warning. A last call from the universe to scare you off a path labeled âdanger.â But you turned a blind eye for the first few weeks.
Following your and Jasonâs hushed-sexy night tryst, the two of you began a relationship. There werenât any proper labels, and it was anything but a situationship, but it was still a relationship. Kisses were snuck around corners and behind couches. Late nights called for secret meetings and a sneaky baby monitor placed outside of a doorway. You unfortunately just hadnât had the time to go on a date yet, or be in each otherâs space without having to worry about Mia. Even worse, it was nearing the end of semester, show week, and overall, tech rehearsals.
For a high schooler, theater productions were zero-sum games. Despite sharing a passion with your students for the stage, you failed to comprehend why life was so serious to them at such a young age. No matter how hard you tried to drill in the fact that theater was supposed to be fun to your students, they always found ways to stress themselves out and exhaust themselves. You just prayed to god this year no one would get mono.
You walked into the auditorium following teaching your eighth-period intro class, and immediately upon arrival, you spotted five different students on their first energy drink of the night, and another handful finishing their coffee from the day. You waltzed down to the apron to leave your things at your directorâs chair. From your peripheral vision, you could spot your head of set design already on a mission to discuss something with you, judging from the way he marched over to you with a purpose, a familiar stress in his jaw and practiced maturity in his green eyes.
âMiss, I need to discuss the upcoming--â
âDamian, I just got here; if it can wait five minutes, that would be much appreciated.â
âOf course.â
Damian Wayne was one of your brightest students. You had only arrived at Gotham Academy three years prior, so you were still getting acclimated to the wants and needs of your students and their overbearing parents. The first day Damian was in your Performance Production class, you had asked him why he selected your course for his elective. You remember him replying, Itâs the one thing I havenât done. From there on, you knew youâd enjoy teaching him throughout the semester.
But one semester turned quickly into another, and once youâd come back from winter break, he was already on the spring production sign-up sheet for production, sending you a curt nod as he left his signature. Soon enough, Damian was on set design, then head of set design, and you enjoyed seeing him work with fellow classmates he once had never spoken to, under a shared goal of success.
After taking a lengthy chug from your water bottle, you sat down in your chair. Relief. Letting out a small sigh, you turned back to Damian, who was waiting patiently and quietly for you to get settled.
âAlright, kid. What's up?â
Damian crossed his hands behind his back, a solid tell that he was feeling anxious but unable to show it. âRegarding the upcoming parent-teacher conference, I must let you know that Father will not be in attendance, for he has business in the city that day.â
âAh, I see,â you responded, an understanding nod sent your studentâs way. Your head tilted slightly. âYour mother wonât be joining us next Monday?â
Damianâs lips quivered into a small smirk. âShe and Father got into a disagreement over the way she pressed you last year. She isnât allowed to question any of my teachers again.â
Letting out a laugh in response, you shook your head, the memory a fond one of yours. âI really didnât think she meant to offend me. She seems like a lovely woman, but sheâs very⊠passionate⊠about your education.â You remember the way Bruce Wayne sat in your classroom, head in his hands as Talia Al-Ghul drilled you on your knowledge of various performance histories.
You watched as Damianâs hands dropped back to his sides, the tension in his body slightly dissipating. âWell, anyway, I wished to inform you of that. If the circumstances change, Iâll be sure to let you know.â
âThank you, Damian.â
âNo problem, maâam.â
You hadnât thought anything of that conversation. Damian wasnât anything other than a student of yours. But that Monday couldnât come any faster. In fact, it felt like you closed your eyes Friday night and woke up on Monday afternoon.
The night had been objectively going well-- none of the parents had yelled at you or blatantly disrespected you yet. Most of your students were performing well, especially within your senior capstone class. Those students were in the middle of directing and starring in each otherâs limited productions, ones they would perform at the end of the year separate from the drama club production.
Damian had decided that he wanted to direct a production of True West, a slightly absurd play with an ungodly amount of toasters. He seemed to be having fun directing his friends and also putting his best food forward in productions he was acting in. You were slightly upset you wouldnât be able to share his successes with his father, but you knew heâd receive love and support from him nonetheless. In fact, Bruce and Damian were supposed to be your last pairing of the night, but in anticipation of getting to leave early, you had already begun to pack your things up, when--
âWait!â
You looked up to see Damian standing in the doorway.
âHey, kid. I thought you werenât coming tonight?â
âI wasnât, but apparently Father decided to send one of my brothers tonight to represent him,â he scoffed quickly. âA stupid decision, nonetheless.â
âOh, wonderful! Well, whereâs this brother of yours?â
Damian sighed, taking a quick peek down the hall. He turned back to you. âOne moment,â he announced, his pointer finger in the air, before leaning out the door and shouting, âTODD!â
You snorted, both at Damian yelling at his brother and at the fact that Damianâs brother seemed to be named Todd, which seemed like such a silly name for a Wayne boy.
âKnock it off, Iâm here nowâ the fuck?â Your eyes widened at the man standing in your doorway. The same man who had been inside you just the night before. The same man who not only left early morning to avoid awkward questions with Mia, but took the time to make breakfast before he left.
âJason?â You sputtered.
From across, Damianâs eyebrows furrowed. âTodd? How does she recognize you?â
The look on Jasonâs face was priceless. He turned to his brother in a panic, his typical reserved nature completely out of the window. âThe hell is she doing here?â
âI am his teacherââ The two brothers turned to look at you now, their angry staring contest put on pause. ââand neither of you will refer to me like Iâm not in the room. Jason, please, explain?â
Instead, his eyes darted away from yours as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Oh. Perhaps he was finally feeling the embarrassment that came with dating you. You frowned. Damian cleared his throat. âFather adopted him many years prior to my arrival. There are three others,â His eyes narrowed at Jason, before muttering, âCassandra is the better of all of you.â
You held a darting glare at Jason, standing there, curled in on himself. Yes, you were blindsided and slightly upset, but you had to maintain some kind of composure. A question suddenly hit you. âYour last name isnât Wayne.â
Jasonâs face twisted into a pained grimace, too many emotions quickly washing over him before he found any words. He bit his lip. âIt⊠it technically is. But itâsââ Pausing, his expression faltered as your face fell in embarrassment, disappointment, awkwardness, or whatever negative feeling it was that you were feeling within the moment. ââhard to explainâŠâ
âJesusâŠ," you muttered to yourself. âI mean, this has to be some kind of ethical violation, or somethingââ
âMay I ask what is the matter?â Damian interjected, his hand raised in the air. âI do not understand what is causing such tension between you twâ oh⊠no.â
One slow blink was shared with each other, then at Damian, who was slowly going through all seven stages of grief upon realizing that his teacher and his brother had been involved with one another.
âI see.â He took a step back. âI shall leave you to it.â He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Jason in the room with a mountain of space between you. The two of you remained frozen, unbearable disbelief grounding you to the earth until Jason finally speaks up, a stark difference to when Damian was in the room.
âPlease, ma, I need you to listen to meââ
You raised a shaky hand, cutting him off. You looked off to the side, avoiding his eyes, your own glistening with uncomfortable tears. âI need to get home. You should get him home, too.â
And with that, you grabbed your bags and pushed past Jason, walking off to your car to return home for the night.
But now, youâre here. On your couch. Chugging your second glass of wine before Jason arrives. You gulp the alcohol down quickly, almost shamefully, before setting your glass down onto the coffee table. Not even a second later, a resounding knock is heard from the front door, and you find yourself clinging to the couch and shouting, âCome in!â instead of letting him in like a normal person.
Jason enters the apartment, eyes scanning around for you. He slips his shoes off by the door as usual, hanging his jacket on the coat rack before shuffling over to you.
You feel your lips tighten as your eyes meet for the first time since Monday night. All youâve dreamt about since then has been him. Little things around the apartment like the labels on your spices, the shoes lined up neatly at the door, and a working bathroom door hinge have all reminded you of him. Reminded you of the short distance between you from both sides of your shared wall.
You canât help but feel absolutely horrible. Some semblance of a guilty apology starts to form in your mouth, but before you can spit it out, Jasonâs already on his knees in front of you.
"I donât know why I never told you; guess it just slipped my mind in the end.â
âJason.â
ââAnd Iâll make it up to you, baby, I swearââ
âJason...â
ââIf you want me to fuck off, I can, I justââ
ââJason!â
Gently, you take Jasonâs face in your hands. Your thumb skims over the scar on his cheek, soft freckles at his cheekbones, the plumpness of his lips, and you take in his beauty. The little things that make him Jason. That seems to completely disarm him for a moment, shock covering his features before realizing you arenât bullshitting him, his shoulders tensing. âWait, seriously? I didnât piss you off?â
âI overreacted,â you reassure him, pulling him into a much-needed hug. Melting into you, his body relaxes as your fingers card through his curls. âI should be apologizing to you for making assumptions.â
Jason pulls away from the hug, hands on your shoulders so he can get a good look at you, a puzzled look on his face. ââAbout what?â he asks, incredulous.
âWell, you know. Youâre young. You should be at the club, or whatever. If you didnât want to be with me or it embarrassed you, Iâd understand why. Iâm inconvenient to be with.â Eyebrows scrunching tight, Jason looks at you, his head tilting as if you have three heads. âWhat?â
âBullshit.â You scoff in response, but Jason doesnât seem to want to hear it. âBull. Shit. Do you know how fucking lucky I am? Nothing is inconvenient when itâs with you.â
You melt, âJayâŠâ
One of his arms rests atop your thigh, the other on your hip. Head bowed, you take in the pout on his face and tears brimming in his eyes. âPlease,â he begs, soft and desperate. Nuzzling his face into your thighs, he lets a couple of tears fall. Jason seems to relax as he nuzzles at your soft skin. He takes a deep inhale of your natural scent, closing his eyes in satisfaction before looking back up at you. âIâm all yours,â he breathes into you. A kiss to the skin below. âAll yours, ma.â
Dropping your hand, you take Jasonâs face into your palm. âYou mean it?â you question.
Jason responds with twinkling eyes and a soft nod. âMore than anything,â he places another soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, which turns into another, and then another, until heâs kissing up your thigh.
He wastes no time in ridding you of your shirt. His calloused hands paw at your breasts, fingers finding your nipples and rolling them around, watching as you squirm in pleasure. He pinches and pulls at your nipples, gently teasing them to a peak, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the inner curve of your breast.
âSo soft,â he murmurs, lips brushing against your warm skin. Diving back in, Jason presses a kiss to your other breast, much like the other one, then proceeds to give an experimental flick of his tongue against your nipple.
With a sharp breath, you feel the wetness pool between your thighs, leaving you hungry for more. Jason begins to lap at your breast, spit-slicked and hungry, and your fingers take rein in his curls.
Jason moans in response, his hips digging into the couch as you tug and tug at his hair, only breaking away from your tit to pay mind to the other. Plump lips swell as they latch on and suck, kiss, and suck at your breast, strings of pearlescent string connecting the two of you. Head falling backwards into the arm of the couch, back arching up into Jason, you let out sharp, needy little gasps.
âBaby, pleaseâ I need to feel you.â Your eyes are half-lidded and dark. Jasonâs twinkle back at you from your chest, keeping your gaze in an unrelenting hold as he flicks at your nipple with his tongue again.
âMhm,â he moans. âAnything,â Lick. âFor you,â Lick.
He finally pulls away from your tits, mouth covered with spit and his lips red and swollen from the attack on your breasts, and heâs never looked more divine. You cup his face with your hand, whispering a simple, âCâmere,â before he leans in compliance and meets your lips for a kissâ this time, languid and warm.
Jasonâs unraveled you into a complete, pining mess, leaving you feeling like the lovesick girl you once were and, at the same time, a woman whoâs got something entirely new and good in her life, no stipulations. He pulls away with a shy smile on his face. âWhat was that for?â
You kiss the tip of his nose. âIâm keeping you forever,â you reply.
Jason lets out a hum in response and noses at the column of your throat, heat spreading over his cheeks. âAnd Iâll stay forever,â he echoes. âNow can I get these off, please?â He tugs at your sleep shorts, fingers jumping beneath the fabric to lightly snap it against your hips.
âSo impatient,â you quip as you lift your hips.
The two of you are quick to undress, mere days far too long a time to be separated from one another. Eyes darken with maddening hunger as both of you take in the otherâs current state, a certain electricity in the air between you, passing in between short, staggered breaths.
His lips chase after yours as he teases the tips of his fingers against your folds, spreading the slick around your cunt, feeling it warm underneath his touch. You swallow him down, coaxing a broken groan from his chest, the sound reverberating against your chest from his, your hearts beating together under the rumble. Manicured fingers tug at the hair at the back of Jasonâs neck, soft tufts of curls grounding you as he slips two fingers inside your sopping cunt, a result of his steady, teasing ministrations. Jason hums in delight as he curves his fingers against your velvety walls, pulling a moan out of you. You twist and turn as he plays with you, spreading your slick around and slowly but surely working his digits further into your cunt.
Sex with Jason feels like the first drink of a crisp, cool Coke after walking in the desert for years. It feels like all the cacti youâve encountered, the heavy lifting and distances youâve traveled, the sights youâve seen and bullshit youâve dealt with, are worth it when heâs got you with your legs by your head, bullying his cock into your cunt.
The two of you have moved from the living room to your bedroom upon realizing that the couch wasnât the most comfortable place to have passionate makeup sex. Your bedframe creaks and scratches at your wall with every thrust of Jasonâs hips. He swallows you down with his gaze; sweat brews at his brow and nose as he rolls his hips into yours.
Brows pinched together, your head falls back as the blunt head of his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot against your spongy walls, your cunt squelching in response. You attempt to arch up into it, trying to target Jasonâs thrusts against the sweet spot, but it doesnât work out.
All of a sudden, you feel Jasonâs hands on your hips. With one quick move, youâre belly down on the bed with Jasonâs cock buried further inside you. His lips brush against the shell of your ear. âSâ that what you wanted, ma?â
âMhm,â you whine out, voice straining as Jason lifts your hips so your ass is flush to his hips as he milks your heat with his length, the tip once more meeting your most sensitive spots.
Jason leans into you fully, his bodyweight against you, tucking his face into your neck. âSo tight,â he croaks. His thrusts are frantic and deep as youâre held in his embrace. You raise your ass up just a hair, and a groan leaves Jason. âYou trying to make me fill you up already? Hm? Want me to make you a mommy again?â
âYes, yes, please, babyââ Taking hold of your plush hips once more, Jason ruts deep into you, fervently burying his cock into your cunt over and over again. His thrusts settle into a deep, relentless rhythm, cock dragging across your velvety walls at a dragging pace. âFuck!â You pant, feeling the breath knocked out of you. You bring your hand down to rub at your clit, feeling yourself involuntarily clenching around Jasonâs fat cock, pistoning in and out of your pussy. As you rub tight little circles into the bundle of nerves, you feel your orgasm begin to approach.
Jason turns your face to the side and kisses you messily, strings of spit in between your mouths as his tongue licks and teases at the cavern of your mouth. He only pulls away when he feels you clench and spasm around him again, your pussy squeezing the base of his cock in a vice grip. âFuck, mommy, you gonna cum?â You nod frantically in response, feeling your abdomen tense as lightning rods of pleasure shot through you.
At this point, Jason is fully panting and trembling with every thrust. You arch further back. âDonât hold back,â you beg. âMâ gonna cumââ The second he feels you clench tight around him, the walls immediately burst, and he finds himself bullying his cock into your core as he comes inside you with a hoarse groan, his face buried in the heat of your neck. The sheer force of Jasonâs release is enough to trigger your own, and you find yourself coming with a ragged cry, unable to suppress your volume from overwhelming pleasure.
Jason topples over, pulling you into his chest. You tremble as his cock pulses inside of you, his ropes of cum slowly spilling from your cunt. The two of you are blissed out, sharing deep breaths as you catch up with your bodies. You feel little kisses being peppered onto your head. âFeeling good, ma?â
Nodding, your eyes speak for you, drooping lower and lower the longer Jason holds you in his arms. You realize that this is what life is supposed to feel like with a man, that life as a mother can fit someone else to come into the picture-- as long as they're right and they work for you. And you're damn sure that Jason works for you.
"I feel amazing," you answer. "Fantastic. The best, even. I'm not joking when I say I'm keeping you forever."
Jason drops a kiss onto your lips. "Do I get a bed?" he quips playfully.
Youâre about to speak when your phone suddenly rings. The caller ID reads the name of Mia's friend's mother.
You pick up on the second ring. âHello?â Jason watches as your furrowed brows slowly relax as the person on the other end speaks. You end the call quickly after.
âWhatâs up?â
âI have to get Mia. Someone got sick, so the kids are being sent home to avoid getting sick themselves.â
Jason shakes his head. âNo, no,â he places a hand on your naked shoulder. âHow about I start you a bath, then I can pick her up while you get yourself cleaned up?â
You still, a smile and blush growing on your face as you look at Jason, whoâs got the most serious and determined look on his face. Your heart warms at the sight. Leaning in to kiss him, you announce, âWeâll go get her together.â
though one of the sexiest things about him is his mind. how much he knew, like random facts that would win you a grand prize in a game show about books or historical events. or even about you and what makes you tick. where you liked to eat and how youâd crack your knuckles. he always knew.
his attention to detail was unmatched because he is an amazing observer.
he knew you so deeply that it was like he studied you in the same way he searched for information. kept your image close to his heart and burned it to memory like a brand.
but you hadnât yet gotten further with jason other than making out hard and panting even harder, you knew he was the type to prioritize your pleasure over his. when you started touching more intimately, he saw how much you liked him and felt more confident in how heavily he felt for you. heâd hold those moments with the same tenderness he held your hand with on your first date, devotion leaking from his pores.
jason wasnât prepared to see how he could completely ruin you when it translated to bed. he didnât even know he was capable of it, though once he got a taste, he knew he was unconditionally yours. mapping out roads around your body and marking the spot that made you make the most noises. memorizing the map that led to what he really wanted.
the first time was after a week that was horribly cold and you clung to jason like a second skin. overtime, his warm hands fell to between your thighs and when you didnât stop him, he continued. shakily, more afraid of hurting you than anything else. though entirely skilled, he knew exactly what makes you tick. every single button he pressed made the experience all the more memorable. every touch and every praise, jason made it comfortable and safe like it was his priority because it is.
now its getting hot and heavy. heâs got you pinned under him hand running up your side while he just barely restrained himself. taking your panties off of you so slowly, unwrapping you like a gift he is oh so grateful to receive.
as though heâs afraid of hurting you somehow.
dragging his heavy, weeping tip through your folds. letting the weight rest against you after prepping for what felt like eternity. the resistance is hardly there at this point, but even now, jasonâs bigger than anyone could gauge. what youâd imagined in your mind was ten times fold with him and the girth he harboured was a little daunting.
âi got you princess.â he breathes. âwill you let me in?â
eyes staring into his as heart shapes form in the thin air, you nod breathlessly.
youâre not one to back down from a challenge, right?
then he presses forward and kisses you at the same time, swallowing down the gasp that took your breath. only an inch inside and heâs the one shaking already, cupping your face with one hand and fisting the bedsheet by your head with the other.
the stretch is incredible. the sheer size of him both unwarranted and ridiculously impressive. but when you consider his soft spoken voice and the gentle rasp that shook you to your core, it only made your arousal greater.
he drops his head to your cheek and kisses your face gently. then he lets his lips trail down your jaw, licking down then he could tuck his head in your neck and breathe you in. rocking into you slow like he was afraid to fully seat himself inside.
jason whimpers your name softly when you tense. âease up ma.â before letting a hand circle your clit.
âiâm sorry,â breath shakily as you wrap your ankles around his back. âyouâre really big.â
something in his perfect face melts and his lips upturn. he stops his hips from moving any further. âdonât apologize to me, i should be doing that. god, please donât tell me iâm hurting you.â
but the wait was eating you up. the feeling of him there and not giving you it all was building and the ache was defeaning.
you needed all of him.
you shake your head and try to buck into him further, but jasonâs hand shifts to your hip and holds you firm. still holding himself back for some reason unknown to you. a whine slips from your lips when you try to get closer and he groans like the action was ruining him.
this time, you decide to plead. âi want it all jayâ
blinking down at you, he shifts his gaze from eye to eye. needing the reassurance as though he truly believed you were saving his feelings.
âare you sure?â
you nod and part your lips, biting your lip softly as the pressure rests there. âplease.â
then jason leans down and you think heâs going to kiss you. plump lips pink and swollen with tension as he washes his eyes over your face. resting his forehead on yours before closing his eyes and still not moving his hips yet. just letting the weight of what would fill you stay just in reach but out of touch.
like a threat thatâs more like a promise.
âi love you so much.â he admits before pressing his lips to yours, muffling any response you couldâve had.
you moan into his mouth then, half surprise and pleasure. the feeling was unreal. the stretch around him stole the air from your lungs even though he was moving so slowly.
he pressed forward and despite the pleasureful pain it caused, letting your ankles dig into his back and pull him deeper until he was fully seated inside you. a tear slips down your face just as he parts from you to breathe and a cry escapes past your lips.
the sound is enough to startle jason and halt any movement. he pulls back as your tear strikes fear echoes across on his face, thinking you were in pain from him doing.
âshitâdid i hurt you?â
taking a moment to compose yourself, you shake your head warily. âno,â the sound another muffled cry as he stayed impossibly still, unsure what to do.
âsweetheart, youâre crying,â leaning back trying to pull his weight off of you.
though you donât let him move far, tightening your hold on him and locking your ankles.
âstay,â gripping him close for dear life.
his eyes stay unwavering and his hips stay still. he reaches up for your face again and brushes his thumb over your cheek before he nods at your determination.
âokay,â shakily he says. âbut if it hurtsââ
âit doesnât.â you quickly interrupt. âi promise, it feels good.â
a slow smile creeps up his face. âyeah? you feel good?â
you nod again and stare straight at his lips, urging him on. slowly his resolve crumbles and he lands closer to your face to kiss you once again. pressing his perfect lips to yours like a seal and a lock.
just then he adjusts his hips, shifting them forward and rocking into you. he watches as your breath hitches and your fingernails dig into your palms. head drawing back to drown into the pillow beneath it. he groans at the slight resistance created in the friction but eases up until you let him in so easily. hands on your hips tight but not hurting, just enough to remind you where he was.
he takes your hands and pries your fingers up, interlocking them with his to distract you from the sensation. slowly inching his way inside until the tears in your eyes were accompanied by gentle moans.
then you drag him closer once again and he lets you interlock your ankles behind him.
âlet me do the work,â panting by your ear. âlet me show you how i love you.â
wiping your tears, his teeth shine brightly as he smiles and soothingly strokes your face. impossible gentleness from his calloused hands. when the words die, he converses with his eyes you could drown inside of.
finally he bottoms out with a soft sputter on his tongue, completely unable to mask his weight behind his heavy hips, touching your cervix from this angle. nailing dig into his hand, needing to be grounded and feel him completely, jason pants heavily. he brings your hands up higher until they rested just above your head. the loving frame he posed you in was so evident you could cry. instead, you paint him in the same light.
the ministrations resume and he moves with less restraint than youâd started with. watching how your expressions changed and the sounds escaped your lips quicker with every movement.
his deep thrusts couldâve knocked the air from your lungs but he was doing it so slowly as he inched himself further, it melted away. pleasureful bliss blooms across your skin as he kisses your neck. leaving open mouthed smooches up to your face and worked back down, surely leaving marks in their wake.
âplease jay,â moaning out as though he wasnât already fucking you. âmore.â
jason fucks you like he was about to lose you then, when he looks up and sees your eyes rolling and the tear streaks on your face. letting go of your arms to lift you up and over him. he rolls onto his back and seats you in his lap, never pulling completely out, just enough that you feel what youâd need to retake.
âokay princess,â he coos. âiâll help, yeah?â
already exhausted but willingly to please him, you grip his shoulders and start to grind down into him. he cups your ass and lifts you up, letting your weight back onto him over and over. the mix of your arousal making it easier to fuck up into you as he holds you effortlessly. shifting your hips against him weakly, jason decides to take up the task entirely but not until he really sees you struggle to fit him inside you.
a couple more whines escape you as you attempt to move, taking an inch deeper just to grind against his pelvis. minutes go by like this, when he tries to tell you itâs okay and he can do it, you shake your head like youâre already gone. then you tell him you can handle it.
both of you know you canât.
another roll of your hips against his where a broken moan pulls him out his head causes jasonâs brain to flip. he doesnât just hold you anymore, no, he starts to get meaner. not like he wants to hurt you, but he wanted to give you what heâs wanted all nightâto fuck you full.
thrusting up again and again while he watches your face contort, slowly melting onto his chest while he sits up further. moving you up and down onto him, biting his lips to control his moans when you whimper his name. then he canât even hide that. groans and moans, gasps and sighsâthey fill your ears like sinful symphony as he works himself up further. he listens to the praises you say in his ear while he does the work you shouldâve, fucking up into you as though on a mission. his pace picks up as he feels you moving back into him, matching his thrusts with your own.
the peak sneaks up on you when he tangles his hand in your hair to get a look at your face. pulling just enough to see your expression and gasp when he continues his ministrations.
âi wanna watch you let go for me.â nearly whining when he admits. âyou gonna let me come inside you? please?â his breathy voice coaxing you.
vigorously you nod as his pace begins to falter and his thrusts only become deeper as though he wanted to get closer.
itâs enough to spur you on. enough to push you right over the edge as you see his pink, bitten lips and the flush on his cheeks. the ruffle in his hair that proved how long this had been going on for. he looked so incredibly hot, you could die a happy woman tonight just from his good heâs fucked you.
through the peak, he carries you over, not stopping and not pausing his filthy promises. youâre clamping down around him when he sputters your name, groaning harshly and prolonging the feeling. you can feel him reaching his climax, bucking into you and movements stuttering. when he comes, you feel the pulses as he fills you. rope after rope painting you white from within. the waves of intense pleasure as his veins drag and he starts overstimulates himself. then he reaches between you to circle your sensitive bud, thrusting sloppily as youâre limp against him and throwing you into another orgasm.
practically screaming his name as you muffle a cry into his shoulder, barring your teeth and taking a bite of his supple skin. shaking as he fucks you through another climax and pushes his seed deeper inside. hand slipping off his shoulder as he slows his movements. groaning softly by your ear as he makes shallow bucks as though he didnât want this to end.
but fucked out in his arms is his lover, drenched in sweat and slick that he didnât know had even reached those places. and still, he was buried inside you with no indication of wanting to move.
minutes go by like this, both of you entirely spent and trying to catch your breath. heâs first to look at you and ensure that he hadnât harmed you. eyes closed and lips parted, panting hard like youâd run a marathon as jason looks the same. leaning back further just to see the look on your face, jason kisses your forehead then.
âwas that okay?â he twists at your heartstrings. âdid i hurt you?â
still he was questioning himself and you were just coherent enough to shake your head and speak in a slur. âyouâre perfect. my perfect boy.â
the breathy words only made him smile. his grin wide and toothy as he kisses the top of your head over and over. ignoring how your hair stuck to your head, hoping youâd do the same to him.
âsweet baby.â murmuring between his rough kisses that felt like cuteness aggression towards you. âi love you so, so much.â
you hum as you nuzzle into his chest. âmmhmf, i love you too.â
still cheesing, he holds you tight against him. part of him felt like he was dreaming with how much he loved you. his body shaking with restraint as he twitched inside you but he knew you were too exhausted to go again. leaning himself back onto the mattress to tuck you against him further, holding you there like something sacred. as though you would run or get taken away if he faltered his hold at all.
the hold on you only grounding as though you were floating over your body still, ghosting like heâd fucked you into the afterlife. sleep eases its way through your body and jason absorbs it.
only minutes later youâre completely asleep, snoring peacefully as jason drools on your head.
and thereâs no place youâd rather be.
forgive me for this filth. iâm never a normal person when iâm ovulatingâŠ
bsf! jason todd who fucks you after a bad date ughhhh
Going to his apartment after a disastrous date. Full on crying in his arms about how much you hate guys so much and he's just there cooing to you and wipin your tears away. When you are adamant about never dating again, he decides to show you exactly why you won't need to. Gets you into his bed and fuck you in a deep mating press, so deep it was like he was in your tummy. Your legs were on each side of his shoulder, his warm breath against your ankle. He had you locked in place under him, you couldn't run if you wanted to. It was so perfect for you. Jsson knew how bratty his dear friend could be, especially when things didn't go your way, so making you take every fucking stroke was the only way he could make you feel better.
"Don't need another man when m' here baby. I know. Feels so good right? Never knew you were this big of a crybaby. This is what friends are for. What? No. You can't do this with your other friends. This is just for me and you. Because no one else can make you cum like I can. Trust me, I know you way better than they do."
The coast is clear. The library's pretty much quiet and the both of you hear barely any footsteps but really, there's nothing to worry about because the only other member in the book club is Alfred, who's gone for personal reasons.
"Are we really doing it here?" you ask in a whisper, pointing at the ground.
"Yeah, just let me do everything, baby." he replies softly, a stark contrast from his fighting style.
You feel his lips collide with yours, nipping at the bottom part of your lip before trying to shove his tongue inside your throat. He cups your jaw tight but not enough to hurt you. His kisses trail down from your mouth to the collarbone slowly, nibbling a bit to give you a mark.
His hand slips into your pants, past the waistband, rubbing at your clit gentlyâ sending subtle waves of pleasure through you.
A moan emerges, quickly caught by the lips that envelop your tongue greedily.
Without warning, he slides a finger inside, evoking a whimper subdued by you gritting your teeth. He starts pumping it in and out of your hole, gummy walls swallowing it back in each time.
"Just let out your moansâ nobody's here," he says, adding another finger. "And I like hearing them anyway,"
"Mmh!" you whimper from the stretch. Hesitant, you loosen your jaw and let the lewd sounds escape your mouth that echo throughout the empty room.
He quickens his pace, squelches leading into a crescendo. "C'mon baby, just let it go."
The final wave of lust crash over you and coat his finger in your cum.
