⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊ MRS. ROBINSON // neighbor!jason todd x milf!reader
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˙ 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.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˙ 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 BETA’D/PROOFREAD
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˙ author's note: hey :D i don’t know if i like this. it took me too long. but it's done!
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˙ word count: 10.5k
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It’s 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. There’s no more worrying about becoming a bad mother. You’ve become a cougar. What specifics would grant a woman the title, you're not entirely sure. Does it count if there’s only been one... well, you wouldn’t exactly call it an incident. A happy accident, perhaps. But that’s also what you say about your daughter, Mia.
Tonight, Mia is at her first-ever sleepover- she’s been rattling endlessly about how excited she is to have her ‘very first sleepover’ with her ‘very best friend’, and she ran right out of your arms when you had dropped her off at her friend’s house. You’re 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. It’s Friday night, and you would typically be having a better time, but you’ve been stuck with an aching feeling in your gut for the past few hours. You know she’s just excited to experience something new and true to girlhood, that her little six-year-old brain isn’t quite ready to become independent from her mother, but you can’t help but feel like she’s growing up quicker than you can process it. That feeling has unfortunately tainted other aspects of your life you’ve been kicking yourself over, like the issue that glares back at you in straining blue light. You can’t 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
it’s not that big of a deal to me, but i’m
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 isn’t 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? Mia’s 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 ‘delivered’ label turns into a ‘read’, 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, “Mommy, what’s all that!?”—at the same time, a little girl ran out next door and shouted—“Jay! Which room is your bedroom?”
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. “Are you my new neighbor?”
The little girl shook her head no. “Uh-uh, Jason is. But he doesn’t have any kids because he doesn’t have a girlfriend or wife. Or boyfriend.”
Jason’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he leaned over to his niece and whispered in a strained but hushed voice. “Lian, we don’t share personal information with people we don’t know.”
You attempted to stifle your laugh, but your amusement was cut short by your daughter. “That’s okay, my mommy doesn’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend either. And she calls my daddy a shithead.”
“Mia!” Both of the girls began to giggle at your horrified expression. You didn’t 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. “I’m so sorry, we can get out of your hair, I was just curious—“
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Jason interrupted. His fingers combed through his hair. “Nice to meet you, ladies. Jason.” 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, “And this is my daughter, Mia.”
Swaying on her heels in the doorway, Mia waved to Jason with a shy smile on her face, her cheeks slightly warm from laughter. “Hi, Mr. Jason. I hope you really like your apartment and you make it look all nice and cool.”
“I’ll do what I can, but these ain’t gonna help.” 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. “What happened to your leg?”
Jason swayed his head for a moment, like he was trying to edit out minor details before settling on an appropriate story for Mia. “I got into a car accident. Doc says I’ll be cleared in a couple of weeks, though. ’S why we always make sure to wear our seatbelts, yeah?” Jason’s 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 Mia’s height, and she cupped her hands over your ear, whispering quietly so Jason couldn’t hear her question. You smiled in response. “That’s for you to ask him, sweetheart.”
Jason’s 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. “Mr. Jason, could I sign your cast?”
Jason opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Lian, who jumped and burst out, “YES! You can put it right next to my name! Let her sign it, Jay! Please?” She shook his arm as she begged and buzzed with excitement.
With a chuckle, Jason resigned, against not much opposition, and said, “Of course you can, kid. Got any markers on ya?”
“Yeah! Mommy got me sparkly markers last week!” Mia ran inside your apartment to retrieve said pack of markers— 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. “Which color is your favorite?”
Jason thought for a second, crossed his arms and smiled. “Definitely red.”
Mia’s eyes widened and lit up in response. “Oh my gosh. We have the same favorite color!”
“That's because only the coolest people in the world love red.” 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.
Jason’s weeks of recovery were interrupted by you, drowning in work and responsibility, unable to hold the load by yourself. It wasn’t like you didn’t have a babysitter for Mia, you knew your schedule as a teacher and you knew you’d 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 Mia’s 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 Jason’s door, you saw the situation as a favor, something you’d 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 couldn’t extend to reach. It was no issue to you, he was hurt and you’d 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 ‘come in!’ from beyond his door, you entered Jason’s 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. Mia’s eyes shifted your way, and she called out a distracted, “Hi, mommy,” 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. “Hey, bug. You had a nice time with Jason?”
Mia nodded as she reached for her cookie and took a big bite out of it before speaking. “We’re drawing now,” she spoke with her mouth full. You’d remember to remind her of her manners later.
“Drawing, huh? I wasn’t aware you were also an artist, Jay?” You joked as you saw a dragon on Jason’s paper that looked like something a child drew blindfolded.
You blushed as he shrugged and flashed a shy smile. “I’ve had a couple lessons here and there from my brother, and now this little Van Gogh right here, right Mia?” 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. “Look! I drew me as a princess and Jay is a princess too and we’re riding on a big dragon! Do you like my dragon, mommy?”
“Oh, I love your dragon! It’s so awesome, sweetheart!” The dragon was red, courtesy of Jason and Mia’s favorite color, and was breathing purple fire from its mouth. Inspired choices.
“We were playing princess and the dragon today, which turned into princess teatime, which eventually turned into art lessons. A busy afternoon was had,” Jason said. He watched Mia finish up the last details on her drawing with a smile on his face, and your heart warmed.
“Mommy?”
“Yeah, bug?”
“Can Jason be my new babysitter?” Mia looked at Jason, her face suddenly serious, eyes wide. “She can pay you with her big girl money. She has a lot of big girl money.”
You scrunched your brows in a panic. “No, she doesn’t. But she does have some for a babysitter, yes,” you looked at Jason and your shoulders tightened. You felt bad asking him knowing he was already facing inconveniences. With a shrug, you asked, “If that’s something you would be interested in? It’s totally fine if you can’t--”
“I’ll do it.” He responded, as if he was as certain as ever. With a smile on his face, he leaned over to ruffle Mia’s hair. “Besides, who’s gonna teach me how to be the next Picasso?”
From there on, Jason would watch Mia during the week while you had rehearsals for your school’s 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 o’clock 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 Jason’s habit of adding M&M’s 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 can’t excuse the things you’ve 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 dad’s 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, “Hey, Jay!”
Cursing himself, he turned away quickly, a warm flush creeping up his body. “Hey,” he greeted meekly, lips spread into a thin line, “Morning.”
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 wouldn’t. You wouldn’t 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 couldn’t help but feel curious. You couldn’t 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.
“Hi, Jay!” 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.
“Well, hello to you too, princess,” he placed a kiss upon her head. “How has your day been, sweetheart?”
“It 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.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, walking the two of them into the kitchen where your back was turned as you stood at the stove. A brow arched— he noticed you were wearing a tank top. “How did those fancy fries turn out?”
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--
“--They’re turning out pretty well as far as I can tell,” Your eyes seemed to glimmer at him, but Jason wasn’t sure if he was just making things up. He already felt insane, having to clear his throat in the subtlest way possible. “Wanna try one?” You asked, holding up a fry.
Mia nodded her head quickly. “Yes! They’re sooo yummy! I helped cut them.”
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.
“Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed. What he didn’t 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.
“Good?” 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, “How about we get the dinner table set up for your mom, yeah?”
Squeezing out a bright smile, Mia nodded her head. “Okay!”
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 couldn’t 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, “Jay Jay! Bedtime story, please!”
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. She’s just settling down for the night.
“How was she?”
“She was great; she settled in pretty quickly. Read around two chapters tonight.
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah, it is,” 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, “Hey, uh, thanks for dinner and everything tonight. I think I’m gonna—“
“—Would you like to stay for a bit?” Your satiny voice cut through the deluge of excuses that ran through Jason’s head. “I can pour you a glass if you’d like. You drink Malbec?”
Trying to find his bearings, Jason took a deep breath. “Uh, yeah. I’d like that.”
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.
“This is nice,” you commented as you returned to your spot on the couch. “The two of us. Chilling. We’ve never done this, no?”
With a sniff, Jason tried to pass off nonchalance. “Uh, yeah, we haven’t. S’ cool.”
“Cool?” You questioned, your brow arching.
Jason sputtered. “No, I’m sorry, I just mean-”
You cut him off with a sickly sweet laugh, the tone of your voice immediately bringing Jason out of his spiral into embarrassment. “Jason, sweetie, there’s no need to worry about it,” 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. “Listen, Jason,” you purred, voice trickling into his ear like honey. Your hand on his shoulder readjusted, the tips of your fingers gently caressing his skin. “I just wanted to really thank you for everything you’ve done for Mia and I over the last few months. You’ve just been so amazing to us, especially to Mia. I mean, she absolutely adores you.”
Jason’s lips tugged up in a smile. “Really?”
“Absolutely. I also just really appreciate everything you’ve done for us. You’re kind… you’re thoughtful… you’re attentive.” Your lashes fluttered as your eyes met his with a soft glimmer. “You’ve just been… so good to me, Jason.”
In that moment, Jason knows he’s truly fucked. There are two reasons for that: you’ve officially caught on to his crush on you, and he was on your couch, the most bricked up he’d 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, “Fuck, ‘m sorry.”
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. “What are you apologizing for, hon?” Jason cleared his throat, shooting a quick glance at the tent in his pants. Your eyes widened. “You’re apologizing for this?”
Jason nodded in shame, his head bowed. “You’re basically my boss! I know it’s gotta be a sick fucking thing, the way you’re always on my mind, and when I close my eyes, I—” he confessed.
“Jay, honey, look at me.” 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. “For how long?”
As hard as he tried to keep his composure, he sniffled, a pathetic and pained look on his face. “Always.”
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, he’d 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. “You okay?”
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.
“Of course,” you replied. “I’m just happy to know you feel the same way I do.”
Jason’s eyes lit up, and a smile broke out on his features. “Yeah?” He asked, as if he couldn’t believe it until he had direct confirmation.
“Absolutely. I thought I was crazy for trying this!”
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.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned.
His desperation elicited a soft hum from you. “Sweet boy,” 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. “How about we head to my room, yeah?”
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.
“Jason.”
“Hm?”
“As much as I’d love to get the full experience, my kid is two doors down the hall, so we need to keep it down low.”
His lips curved into that familiar bashful grin of his. “I’ll be as quiet as a church mouse,” he joked. His eyes trailed to your lips; your mouth had quirked up into a doting smile. “Now, can I please kiss you?”
“Of course, honey.”
With your permission, Jason’s 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 couldn’t 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 Jason’s waist and gave you the leverage you needed to pull him closer into you and deepen your kiss. You swiped your tongue across Jason’s 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.
Jason’s 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, “You can touch me anywhere you want to, Jay.”
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 Jason’s 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.
“Could you take this off for me?” 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, “I want to eat you like a fucking popsicle.”
It wasn’t long until Jason’s 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 Jason’s 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. “Fuck, Jay.”
“Yeah, ma?” 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. “S’okay if I taste you for a sec? Need to see how sweet that pussy tastes.”
His words sent a chill up your spine, and you shivered in anticipation. “Do whatever you want,” 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 wasn’t 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. “Shh, ma. We gotta be quiet, remember?” You whined in response, your hips chasing after his mouth.
Your fingers curled into the sheets as Jason’s 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 Jason’s nose bumped into your clit as his tongue met his fingers at your sopping hole.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby,” you strained out, hips wriggling in the hold of Jason’s arm. The fingers inside you got deeper, quicker, and Jason’s 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 you’ve had his fingers in your cunt?
“Jason.”
“Mhm?”
“Feeling okay?”
He blinked slowly. “M’ fine. I just--” he paused completely for a moment. Your fingertips tapped lightly over the freckles adoring his flesh, the raised scars amassed from whatever past he’d left behind. With a clearing of his throat, he regained his bearings and met your gaze, his lips pursing into a shy smile. “I’ve wanted to feel you like this for so long,” he admits.
With a heated hand, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light. “I hope it’s everything you ever wanted,” 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 Jason’s 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. “You good, honey?”
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. “You’re just… you’re so fuckin’ tight, ma,” his voice trembled, nails digging crescents into his thighs.
“There’s no reason for you to hold back, baby,” 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 tomorrow’s 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.
“C’mon, Jay,” you purred against his ear. “Show me how much you’ve been wanting this…”
“Fuck, okay, okay.”
When the high was over, you went down with a slow slump onto Jason’s 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.
“Oh, messy girl—” 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. “—I’ll get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 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.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 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 don’t 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 didn’t bat an eye when you felt him get under the covers next to you, or when he kissed you goodnight.
You weren’t 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 Todd’s 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 you’d 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 ‘danger.’ But you turned a blind eye for the first few weeks.
Following your and Jason’s hushed-sexy night tryst, the two of you began a relationship. There weren’t 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 hadn’t had the time to go on a date yet, or be in each other’s 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 director’s 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.
“Miss, I need to discuss the upcoming--”
“Damian, I just got here; if it can wait five minutes, that would be much appreciated.”
“Of course.”
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, It’s the one thing I haven’t done. From there on, you knew you’d enjoy teaching him throughout the semester.
But one semester turned quickly into another, and once you’d 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.
“Alright, kid. What's up?”
Damian crossed his hands behind his back, a solid tell that he was feeling anxious but unable to show it. “Regarding 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.”
“Ah, I see,” you responded, an understanding nod sent your student’s way. Your head tilted slightly. “Your mother won’t be joining us next Monday?”
Damian’s lips quivered into a small smirk. “She and Father got into a disagreement over the way she pressed you last year. She isn’t allowed to question any of my teachers again.”
Letting out a laugh in response, you shook your head, the memory a fond one of yours. “I really didn’t think she meant to offend me. She seems like a lovely woman, but she’s very… passionate… about your education.” 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 Damian’s hands dropped back to his sides, the tension in his body slightly dissipating. “Well, anyway, I wished to inform you of that. If the circumstances change, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Thank you, Damian.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
You hadn’t thought anything of that conversation. Damian wasn’t anything other than a student of yours. But that Monday couldn’t 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 other’s 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 wouldn’t be able to share his successes with his father, but you knew he’d 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--
“Wait!”
You looked up to see Damian standing in the doorway.
“Hey, kid. I thought you weren’t coming tonight?”
“I wasn’t, but apparently Father decided to send one of my brothers tonight to represent him,” he scoffed quickly. “A stupid decision, nonetheless.”
“Oh, wonderful! Well, where’s this brother of yours?”
Damian sighed, taking a quick peek down the hall. He turned back to you. “One moment,” he announced, his pointer finger in the air, before leaning out the door and shouting, “TODD!”
You snorted, both at Damian yelling at his brother and at the fact that Damian’s brother seemed to be named Todd, which seemed like such a silly name for a Wayne boy.
“Knock it off, I’m here now— the fuck?” 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.
“Jason?” You sputtered.
From across, Damian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Todd? How does she recognize you?”
The look on Jason’s face was priceless. He turned to his brother in a panic, his typical reserved nature completely out of the window. “The hell is she doing here?”
“I am his teacher—” The two brothers turned to look at you now, their angry staring contest put on pause. “—and neither of you will refer to me like I’m not in the room. Jason, please, explain?”
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. “Father adopted him many years prior to my arrival. There are three others,” His eyes narrowed at Jason, before muttering, “Cassandra is the better of all of you.”
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. “Your last name isn’t Wayne.”
Jason’s face twisted into a pained grimace, too many emotions quickly washing over him before he found any words. He bit his lip. “It… it technically is. But it’s—” 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. “—hard to explain…”
“Jesus…," you muttered to yourself. “I mean, this has to be some kind of ethical violation, or something—”
“May I ask what is the matter?” Damian interjected, his hand raised in the air. “I do not understand what is causing such tension between you tw— oh… no.”
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.
“I see.” He took a step back. “I shall leave you to it.” 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.
“Please, ma, I need you to listen to me—”
You raised a shaky hand, cutting him off. You looked off to the side, avoiding his eyes, your own glistening with uncomfortable tears. “I need to get home. You should get him home, too.”
And with that, you grabbed your bags and pushed past Jason, walking off to your car to return home for the night.
But now, you’re 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, “Come in!” 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 you’ve 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 can’t help but feel absolutely horrible. Some semblance of a guilty apology starts to form in your mouth, but before you can spit it out, Jason’s already on his knees in front of you.
"I don’t know why I never told you; guess it just slipped my mind in the end.”
“Jason.”
“—And I’ll make it up to you, baby, I swear—”
“Jason...”
“—If you want me to fuck off, I can, I just—”
“—Jason!”
Gently, you take Jason’s 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 aren’t bullshitting him, his shoulders tensing. “Wait, seriously? I didn’t piss you off?”
“I overreacted,” you reassure him, pulling him into a much-needed hug. Melting into you, his body relaxes as your fingers card through his curls. “I should be apologizing to you for making assumptions.”
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. “‘About what?” he asks, incredulous.
“Well, you know. You’re young. You should be at the club, or whatever. If you didn’t want to be with me or it embarrassed you, I’d understand why. I’m inconvenient to be with.” Eyebrows scrunching tight, Jason looks at you, his head tilting as if you have three heads. “What?”
“Bullshit.” You scoff in response, but Jason doesn’t seem to want to hear it. “Bull. Shit. Do you know how fucking lucky I am? Nothing is inconvenient when it’s with you.”
You melt, “Jay…”
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. “Please,” 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. “I’m all yours,” he breathes into you. A kiss to the skin below. “All yours, ma.”
Dropping your hand, you take Jason’s face into your palm. “You mean it?” you question.
Jason responds with twinkling eyes and a soft nod. “More than anything,” he places another soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, which turns into another, and then another, until he’s 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.
“So soft,” 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.
“Baby, please— I need to feel you.” Your eyes are half-lidded and dark. Jason’s twinkle back at you from your chest, keeping your gaze in an unrelenting hold as he flicks at your nipple with his tongue again.
“Mhm,” he moans. “Anything,” Lick. “For you,” 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 he’s never looked more divine. You cup his face with your hand, whispering a simple, “C’mere,” before he leans in compliance and meets your lips for a kiss— this time, languid and warm.
Jason’s unraveled you into a complete, pining mess, leaving you feeling like the lovesick girl you once were and, at the same time, a woman who’s got something entirely new and good in her life, no stipulations. He pulls away with a shy smile on his face. “What was that for?”
You kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m keeping you forever,” you reply.
Jason lets out a hum in response and noses at the column of your throat, heat spreading over his cheeks. “And I’ll stay forever,” he echoes. “Now can I get these off, please?” He tugs at your sleep shorts, fingers jumping beneath the fabric to lightly snap it against your hips.
“So impatient,” 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 other’s 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 Jason’s 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 you’ve encountered, the heavy lifting and distances you’ve traveled, the sights you’ve seen and bullshit you’ve dealt with, are worth it when he’s 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 wasn’t the most comfortable place to have passionate makeup sex. Your bedframe creaks and scratches at your wall with every thrust of Jason’s 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 Jason’s thrusts against the sweet spot, but it doesn’t work out.
All of a sudden, you feel Jason’s hands on your hips. With one quick move, you’re belly down on the bed with Jason’s cock buried further inside you. His lips brush against the shell of your ear. “S’ that what you wanted, ma?”
“Mhm,” 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. “So tight,” he croaks. His thrusts are frantic and deep as you’re held in his embrace. You raise your ass up just a hair, and a groan leaves Jason. “You trying to make me fill you up already? Hm? Want me to make you a mommy again?”
“Yes, yes, please, baby—“ 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. “Fuck!” You pant, feeling the breath knocked out of you. You bring your hand down to rub at your clit, feeling yourself involuntarily clenching around Jason’s 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. “Fuck, mommy, you gonna cum?” 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. “Don’t hold back,” you beg. “M’ gonna cum—“ 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 Jason’s 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. “Feeling good, ma?”
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.
You’re 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. “Hello?” Jason watches as your furrowed brows slowly relax as the person on the other end speaks. You end the call quickly after.
“What’s up?”
“I have to get Mia. Someone got sick, so the kids are being sent home to avoid getting sick themselves.”
Jason shakes his head. “No, no,” he places a hand on your naked shoulder. “How about I start you a bath, then I can pick her up while you get yourself cleaned up?”
You still, a smile and blush growing on your face as you look at Jason, who’s got the most serious and determined look on his face. Your heart warms at the sight. Leaning in to kiss him, you announce, “We’ll go get her together.”
summary: you call him as your husband when you are still dating.
pairing: Jason Todd x reader
tags and warnings: talks of marriage, haven't written for Jason in a while so here it is! Maybe OOC, also cooking and food mentioned, art by @/ciricearts
wc: 1.1k
Jason Todd mlist
It's a quiet afternoon as you sit on the marble counter, legs swinging side to side while Jason slices some tomatoes next to you. Golden streaks of sun seep in through the window, casting circles of yellow across the linoleum flooring and wooden shelves stacked with cutlery.
You had been explaining to him the plot of a 90s TV show you had stumbled upon while browsing during the late hours of the night.
"So the female lead, she decides to go to his house — ugh, I keep forgetting his name "
"Jerry." Jason murmurs, eyes focused on the bowl of ingredients in front of him. Regardless of what work Jason was doing, he always listened to you when you spoke. It almost felt like it was his duty to catalogue every word that left your lips. And he performed that duty to the best of his abilities. It did not matter if he was in the middle of a mission or doing the mundane tasks of living — Jason listened.
Always listened.
"Ahh yes, Jerry, " you repeat, looking up at him with a slight smile that curves into a scowl as you gather your thoughts about the plot. "now Gabriela should dump Jerry's ass, right?"
"Yes," Jason affirms as he takes in your face, painted with annoyance.
Cute.
"But instead she begs him, like what the actual fuck ? Why do these directors even —" the vibration of your phone against the counter cuts your rant short, a wide smile replacing the frown on your face.
"It's Zara."
A few minutes into the conversation, Jason can see you hunched over, giggling about something that your best friend told you over the phone. Meanwhile, Jason had finished making the paste and, almost as a reflex, scooped a spoonful of the paste and brought it to your mouth.
His hand is under the spoon, making sure the red doesn't fall on any of your clothes. He had already made sure it was not too hot by blowing over it multiple times. You open your mouth as the stainless steel presses against your tongue, coating it with red. Jason looks at you, eyes wide with hope and lips pressed into a line.
You hum, squeezing your eyes before kissing your fingertips and moving them away towards him with a spread of your fingers accompanied by a dramatic flair.
Chef's kiss.
Jason huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he starts prepping the pan on the stove. The sudden sound of sizzling onions next to you has Zara asking whether you were at some street food corner.
"No, It's just my husband —"
You wished he hadn't listened to the slip of your tongue over the sound of his cooking but Jason always listens and you knew he had heard when you saw his entire body going still.
His back is turned away from you, broad back covered in black cotton with a spatula in hand as it remained stuck in the air, just a touch from the pan. You don't do any better as you get off the counter and scamper into your shared bedroom, all the while Zara is giggling in your ears.
It was not that Jason did not want to be your husband.
No, it would really be his honor.
But Jason Todd was not completely beyond his insecurities.
Why would anyone want to be with him for a lifetime out of their own will?
You were not one of his siblings who were obligated to be with him as a reason of familial relationship, nor were you part of his team of outlaws who possessed a shared goal.
You had been someone he had fallen in love with at the bookstore.
Was he even worth everything?
"Jason."
He turns at the soft whisper of his name. There you were, standing with your hands rubbing against each other as those angelic eyes of yours refused to meet his. You had cut the call short once the panic had morphed into fear. Zara had understood and reassured you, but your heart wanted the answer from only one person.
"I-I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, " you murmur, eyes blinking rapidly at the tears forming along your waterline. Both of you had only been dating for a year now but it would be a lie if you never thought about the prospect of marriage with Jason.
They say you know the one when you meet them.
He was the one for you.
But you never voiced it. It had been a slip of the tongue, something you wish you could take back if it had made him even a tiny bit uncomfortable.
"No angel," He takes your hands, rubbing smooth circles onto your skin over the back of your palm. "I-You want to spend the rest of your life with me?"
Jason almost doesn't let the words slip out from him, throat dry like all the moisture had been sucked. His green eyes gleam like those of the vast forests under the soft golden light of the sun. They murmur to you of peace, of love, of eternity.
"I would gladly spend every minute with you Jason. Every waking moment with you," you vowed as you peer at him, "and every non-waking moment too in my dreams." Jason chuckles, a faint glow surrounding him like love emanating from the previously filled crevices of nervousness.
Jason envelopes you, the softness of your cheek pressed against his beating heart. His chin is on the top of your head as you see the slight movement of his Adam's apple, almost like he was trying not to cry.
For the first time, someone who had no moral duty to Jason wanted to stay with him forever.
For eternity.
All because you loved him for him.
He presses a small kiss against the top of your head, gently pulling you even more closer, like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly.
"I will gladly spend a lifetime with you too, my love"
Jason could feel the curve of your smile, tracing against his black t-shirt. The both of you stay wrapped in each other's presence like a warm blanket accompanied by the smell of something burning — burning?
"Jason, I think something is burning, " you say, trying to peek through the gaps of his muscled arms, but to no avail. He only lets out a contented sigh, still blissfully bathing in your warmth. You pinch his skin, a sharp yelp resounding from his mouth.
" SOMETHING IS BURNING."
Finally, Jason lets you go as you both turn towards the source of the smell. The once sizzling onions were now burnt to a crisp.
Kara knows how this looks. Clothes strewn from the hallway to the foot of her bed, Krypto snoring from the living room instead of his usual place in her bed, and, most damning of all, the girl beside her, sleeping peacefully on her stomach with an arm draped over Kara’s waist.
Kara gently extracts herself from the bed and trips across the floor, pulling on a random pair of jeans before stumbling into the hallway with Clark, closing the door behind her.
“It’s not what you think,” Kara says.
“And what do I think?” Clark whispers back, eyes wide.
“You tell me!” Kara defends. She can’t come up with something at all reasonable to say without exposing herself and subsequently, the lie she’s been telling Clark. A secret most of the time, dipping into dishonesty on some of the nights he asks to see her and she’s brushed off with a lame excuse.
Giving Krypto a bath. Cleaning the apartment. Wanting to turn in early.
“It looks like you got drunk and hooked up on a planet with a yellow sun! Fully powered, Kara!” Clark admonishes. And yes, okay. From his perspective this is all entirely reasonable and completely appropriate to be worried about. But Kara has just been pulled from her bed at eight in the morning after a very late night, and she can think of nothing else besides climbing back onto the mattress besides you.
“You and Lois—”
“Lois knows!”
“And—that’s—whatever!” Kara flings her arms up and sighs. “Look, Clark, I appreciate the concern. But really, it’s not necessary. Everything is fine.”
“Kara, I know you’re used to doing these things off-planet,” Clark tries. He sets his hands on her biceps, gripping softly. “But here on Earth…things are different. People talk. Superpowered beings are—”
“Kara?” The bedroom door creaks and you step out, wearing only Kara’s Blondie t-shirt. Just seeing you makes her blood pressure drop.
“Hi, baby,” she murmurs, pulling away from Clark and moving towards you. “You sleep okay?”
She cups your cheek in one hand, smiling softly as you lean into the touch.
“Mhm. You run so hot, the bed’s cold without you.”
“I’ll be right back, promise.” She leans down and kisses your forehead, letting her lips press longer than necessary. You hum happily.
“Don’t be too long. You can kick Clark out, right?”
Kara snorts and rests her chin against your head. “For you, yes. If you need incentive to be patient, I can offer a reward.”
“You’d give it to me no matter what,” you tease.
“Go wait,” Kara says, shooing you back into her room. “I’ll kick him out.”
When the door closes, she takes a moment to rest against it. Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. It’s just Clark. She can do this. She’s fought literal monsters. This is nothing.
(But truthfully—monsters are the easy part. A direct, violent target that needs to be taken down. Heartfelt talks are harder, tangled, always a mess. There’s no defeating the enemy hurting you, there is only the hitching breaths in the silence and the burn of unwanted tears.)
Kara turns around, and is surprised to find Clark watching. He looks—odd. Off. Face softened with slow understanding.
“She knows,” he says softly. “Doesn’t she?”
Kara exhales noisily. “Yeah. She knows.”
“How much?”
“I…” Kara looks around uselessly. How does she even begin to describe it all? The gentle tugging of your love on her soul. Giggles and sloppy kisses on the way home from a bar she can barely get tipsy at. Your hands combing through her hair as she whispers about Krypton, lips brushing your chest.
I love you whispered for the first time by you, in Kryptonian, pressed against Kara’s ear.
“She knows everything,” Kara says.
“You love her?”
And he’s—Clark’s looking at her like he knows. Something in Kara’s chest twinges. Months, she’s been hiding this from him. It was ‘just friends’ in the beginning, Kara unstable and volatile and off-center. She didn’t know she could love like this. That she could have someone to come home to every day, to smile at her or hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.
She was so unsure that she’d be able to keep it. That something wouldn’t drive you away. Kara doesn’t have people. She has herself, Clark. And now: you. And you’ve shown that you’re staying. That you want to be here.
“More than anything,” Kara replies. Her eyes sting.
Clark leaves soon after, and Kara comes back into her bedroom, Krypto darting past her to throw himself onto the bed with you.
“Oh, hi,” you coo as Krypto throws himself wildly back and forth across the bed. “C’mere. You missed us, huh?”
Kara collapses onto the mattress beside you. “Hey, what about me?”
You laugh and reach out a hand to stroke Kara’s hair. “Are you feeling neglected?”
“Yes,” Kara moans. She rolls over on top of you, resting her head on your chest. “Give me attention.”
You lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Anything for you.”
notes i'm so in love with kara omg. i need everyone to get more supergirl pilled rn
event info: while I’m on vacation, I can’t help but miss writing for yall.. so this is an excuse for me to keep giving you guys fics, and making sure everyone’s in the summer mood !!
I’ve come up with a lot of ideas already, but would love to hear from you guys if you have ideas! Send a request and specify it’s for the summer event 🩵🧡
DISCO LIGHTS
Dick Grayson x Reader
HONEYMOON GLOW
Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader
RED AS A LOBSTER
Jason Todd x Reader
BACKROADS AND HEARTBEATS
Roy Harper x Reader
more to come..
It would mean a lot to me if people reblogged this post! :)
warnings: 18+ mdni ( no smut but mentions of ), lowkey miscommunication?, two losers pinning after one another, slight angst ( not really ) w/ happy ending and very slight mention to supergirl 2026 but other than that its spoiler free !
summ: you and kara agreed to just be friends with benefits, she hated staying on earth and was scared of committing—you just needed distractions while you fought your way through college. yet somehow down the line you both starting wanting more but neither of you had the guts to admit it.
you are without a doubt happy and comfortable with the arrangement you have with kara. you both got what you wanted and you did it all without the weight of an actual relationship weighing you down. you didn’t have to worry about her, where she’s at, who’s she’s with, it was peaceful.
at least thats what you tried to convince yourself to believe. because if we were being honest, you were in fact, not happy or comfortable with the arrangement you had with kara. you both got what you wanted, yes, but you often thought about her more than you liked to admit.
you wondered if she ate properly after a night of drinking.
you hoped wherever she is, she’s being safe.
and you often made yourself sick with the thought of her soft hands touching another—giving them the same attention it gave you.
it all started a little over a month ago. your school was having a charity festival and of course you were planning on attending. unfortunately for you, you had been a very desirable student and almost everyone was willing to do whatever it took for you to be their date.
men and women alike had pulled out all the stops, some even cornered you—trying their hardest to seem worthy enough of your time. but you made one thing clear, and that was y/n lane did not date. you were in school to become an expert at your craft, not to entertain a relationship that would possibly leave you heartbroken and distracted like your last relationship.
yet that explanation went unnoticed, most ignored it.
so you did what any sane person would do in this situation.
you called your closest friend, kara zor el.
it was nothing too extreme.
you just wanted her to attend the festival with you.
as your date.
surprisingly it took very little to convince her to accept and before you knew it you both were having fun with cheap games and unhealthy food. many stared, you knew they would, but you were enjoying your time and so was kara.
that was until you ex boyfriend decided to join in on the staring—trying to rack his brain about how to pull you away from the blonde. kara knew all about him, of course she did, she spent countless nights listening to you cry and rant about how wrong he did you.
thats where she decided she never wanted a relationship. it always got messy, people lack loyalty and they always left—she already experienced the loss of her own community, she couldn’t imagine experiencing the loss of her person.
“kiss me” you muttered as you turned to her. kara was taken aback, her eyes widen as they scanned your face to look for any form of humor.
“you want me to what?” she asked.
“kiss me” you repeated, taking a dangerous step closer to her. kara breath hitched and she couldn’t, for the life of her, look away from your lips. lips that were shiny due to the countless times you’ve reapplied your cherry scented lip gloss.
“jackson is looking, if you kiss me he won’t bother us” you said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. she had no time to think about it, simply because quickly after your lips were on hers.
kara sighed, her once tense shoulders dropping in relief the moment your soft hands cupped her face. what should have been a quick kiss turned into a heated make out the second her hands gripped your waist. pulling you in closer but even that didn’t feel like enough.
it came to a holt once cleared their throat “ahem, excuse me ladies” you both reluctantly pulled away—hands still holding on to each other. kara was surprised with the look in your eyes, your pupils were blown, eyes hooded and dead set on her lips.
the sight before her made her equally as hungry, the taste of your lip gloss still fresh on tongue as she slipped her bottom lip in between her teeth.
“i believe a room is more appropriate, don’t you?” your now horrified english teacher said and thats how you both ended up in your bed, completely ignoring the fact that your neighbors could almost certainly hear the both of you.
after that you both agreed that this simply couldn’t be a one time thing but more importantly you both agreed that a relationship is far from what you both wanted. 
you weren’t sure when your feelings for kara became more than what it once was.
maybe it was when she flew to your apartment when you failed that test you studied super hard for. holding you as you cried and ranted.
or maybe it was when she brought you dinner from your favorite restaurant when your period started randomly.
or maybe it was when she laughed.
or smiled.
or when she whispered sweet words in your ear.
hell, maybe you’ve always had a thing for kara.
yet you had to be realistic.
this was strictly beneficial only. just friends who occasionally have sex—nothing more, nothing less. and you just had to be okay with that.
“clark said its your birthday week starting tomorrow” you muttered as you watched her get dressed—her hair still tangled from where you had pulled for what felt like hours.
she hummed and you thought about your next words carefully. “any plans?” she sighed, flipping her hair back so she could use her beloved sunglasses to hold her locks back.
“not really, just gonna grab krypto, go celebrate on another planet or something” she shrugged.
“what about earth?”
“what about earth?” you cringed at her tone.
“what about celebrating here? i mean clark’s here, your friends…..me?” she finally looked at you, heart spiking when she spots the fresh hickeys on your lower back.
“clark’s just clark you know? he’s busy” she started “plus those are just his friends, they tolerate me because im his cousin” she smiled—trying to pass it off as some form of joke.
“and well, we can’t just spend the whole week together” she nervously giggled—the sound slowly fading when she realized you didn’t join in on her laughter.
“i-i mean we can but then everyone would assume we’re together, like a couple, together, you know?” you cracked a faux smile, nodding as if you agreed.
“no, yeah, you’re totally right” she pulled her lips into a tight smile, her thumb pointing towards your front door.
“i’m gonna….go now”
that was three days ago. apparently she left right after she picked up krypto, which was right after she left your apartment. you texted her this morning—nothing to crazy, just a simple
happy birthday kara! hope the other planets are treating you well!
you rewrote that message maybe fifteen times before you hit send and since then you’ve been checking your phone constantly, hoping and waiting for her to reply. which was something your older sister seemed to pick up on.
“if it makes you feel any better clark’s birthday wishes went unanswered as well” she said with a soft smile. that in fact, did not make you feel any better. but you weren’t about to admit that.
“i don’t know what your talking about” you shrugged, turning your phone face down as you attempt to read the book that was placed in front of you.
“really? because you’ve checked your phone every five minutes and you’ve been quiet since kara left” she was right, of course she was, she’s lois lane, she knows everything.
“she wants to be friends” you muttered. lois sighed, moving the laptop off her lap to give you her full attention. “i thought i could do it, though i could just leave my emotions out of it but—”
“but you’ve fallen for her” you nodded. “have you’ve told her how you feel?” you shook your head.
“she made it pretty clear, she doesn’t want a relationship with me” lois knew that simply wasn’t the case. clark has told her about how kara always asks about you—how she always seeks you out in whatever environment you were in.
but she couldn’t tell you that. you two simply had to figure it out for yourselves.
kara is tired.
the week had been anything but relaxing.
she spent two days drinking and the rest was spent saving krypto, a young girl and girls in general. she’s been beaten, weakened and on the brink of death and all she can think about is how she should be with you.
in your arms.
krypto laying at the end of your bed while you three watched those shitty romcom movies she pretends to hate but not so secretly loves especially because you love it.
this whole week made her rethink her life. made her rethink her relationship with you. you are something she never knew she wanted but she wants it now—she needs it if she was being honest.
which was why she was standing outside of your apartment door. she wanted to knock—raised her hand to do so a couple of times yet she never did. instead she just stood there, listening to you hum whatever song played through your speakers. she recognized most of the songs, how could she not, you two made that playlist together.
she thought about walking away, about heading back to clark’s place, yet krypto didn’t like those idea’s as he took it upon himself to paw at your door and before she could stop him you opened the door.
you wore her shirt, some graphic tee she left behind and boxers that hugged your thighs perfectly. her mouth opened then closed before she realized she was staring.
“uh hi” she breathed out.
“hi”
“can—can we come in?” you didn’t say a word, you just moved to the side, opening the door wider for the girl and her dog.
“how was your birthday week?” you asked after a moment of silence. “uhh” she started as she looked around your apartment before settling on you.
“it was fun, yeah you know, got pretty wasted, stopped an intergalactic sex trafficking ring and saved krypto from dying” she said with a smile.
“okay” you sighed out, trying to comprehend everything she just dropped on you. “i assume everything is okay? now?” she nodded, hands shoved in her jacket pocket.
“oh yeah, i totally got it under control”
the room fell silent again.
“actually no, everything isn’t okay um i feel like things were off when i left? are we—are we okay?” you sucked in a deep breath, the conversation you had with lois the other day flooding your mind.
“i fell in love with you kara” you chuckle out “i-i want more then this, i want to wake up with you instead of watching you rush out of my apartment, i want—” your words were cut off with the familiar feeling of her lips on yours. you were taken a back at first but rather quickly your lips melted into hers.
“i want this” she muttered against your lips “i want you”
“i thought you said—”
“doesn’t matter anymore, i’m yours, if you’ll have me?” she asked, her piercing blue eyes staring into yours. you answered by connecting your lips with hers again. at first it was soft, reassuring, longing. but rather quickly the kisses became harsher, more teeth, more tongue, more passion.
it would have became more if it hadn’t been for krypto’s rather loud bark.
kara sucked her teeth—eye rolling as she looked down at him.
“should have left you with clark” she muttered.
this is not in anyway edited, there may be a lot of mistakes, my apologies!!
AHHH YOU LIKE CARAVAL TOO?? have you read once upon a break heart? <33
also omg i haven’t heard the name lily evens in so long. back in the day i was such a huge marauders fan 😭
YESSS!! caraval is my favourite book trilogy of all time, and i've had OUABH in my tbr list for so long and i really want to read it, idk why i haven't started yet 😭😭
and i also used to be a huge marauders fan, i used to write marauders fics before i started with dc ones
tim drake x reader angst, hurt/comfort, based on this req by my beloved ana, loosely inspired by bad omens by 5sos
fanart by hazzy may
“It doesn’t matter,” Tim sighed impatiently, running his fingers through his hair.
“It matters to me!” You cried and balled your fists at your sides to stop yourself from shaking your boyfriend who had been a complete ghost this past month.
It was beginning to feel like all you two did was fight and when you weren’t fighting, you were fucking. It was an endless and tiring cycle that had reached to a point where you didn’t know how to break it.
Tim had been stressed. He had barely even been there not just for you, for himself too. He was sleeping less which for him was two hours a day.
Your days together consisted of you lashing out and him storming out in frustration. He would always come back though, after patrol in the middle of the night.
He would always come back and sneak into the bed next to you. His calloused hands always found your waist and his lips found the crook of your neck, giving you fluttering kisses until you woke up and let him have you.
That was the only time he apologised. When he was rocking into you deep into the night, kissing your wet cheeks and making empty promises to be better. And when you woke up the next morning to an empty bed, you felt shitty all over again.
That’s why he had invited you to his penthouse to stay over for a few days so you guys could spend time together. Do anything other than argue and have sex.
It had now been day three of your stay and nothing had changed.
In fact it got worse. He stayed buried in files on his desk while you worked on your assignments or watched tv downstairs. And when he wasn’t on his desk he was at Wayne Enterprises and when he wasn’t there he was at the Batcave. You felt like he was a ghost in his own home and you didn’t know how to deal with it.
You fell asleep before he got home and woke up long after he left. Even the breakfast you made every morning was only for yourself. Sometimes he joined you for lunch that he spent glued to his phone.
“You know you’re supposed to be my girlfriend. You’re supposed to be there for me when things get tough. It’s not easy being the CEO and also a fucking Vigilante, I’m wearing myself thin and then I have to come home to your nagging,” he said through clenched teeth.
“That’s literally what I’m saying. You forget I exist until you’re too frustrated with work and want to let it out. I’m not your fuck buddy. You made a commitment–”
Commitment. That word again.
There’s nothing Tim hated more than being reminded of how he was failing at his commitments. At his work. At being a vigilante.
He put a hand to his forehead and sat down at the edge of the bed. “Can you stop fucking talking? I can’t take it!”
“I can’t take it either!” You snapped. “I’m dating a ghost! You have time for everything but me. I’m not even asking for much but I’ve been here for three days now and you’ve been home for none of those.”
“I have things to do okay? I wake up when you’re still in bed and I have to go to work. I come back at fucking 10 PM and I leave for patrol. What do you want from me damn it!”
“I want you to take care of yourself and I want you let me help,” you said, voice turning softer as you stepped closer to him.
You put your palm over his shoulder to make him look up at you but he shook his head and shrugged your hand away.
“I can’t deal with this right now. I have to go on patrol,” he muttered and stormed out of the bedroom, leaving you all alone again.
A feeling of defeat overtook your body. For not just yourself but your relationship but you weren’t going to cry over it in his damn house.
Instead, you pulled out your bag from his closet and stuffed your clothes and things inside as well as you could before storming out like he had done multiple times.
-
Tim got home at around three in the morning, close to four even.
He knew he was in the wrong. He had known it for a while now and honestly he was surprised that you even put up with it for this long.
He knew no one could ever accept a relationship like this and he also knew you deserved better, way way better.
You were the only person he knew who grounded him. He had to be Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne every day and Red Robin every night and he was tired of it.
He had been tired of it for some time now. Ever since Babs went to Blüdhaven to help Dick, he’s been working extra and wearing himself thin.
Even after Bruce told him to take a day off and take care of himself since he’d started looking like death. Eyebags more hollow and bigger each day, the circles around his eyes getting darker with every night he stayed awake.
He only felt a semblance of reality when he was touching you and he hated himself for it but he also didn’t know how else to be with you. He had forgotten it along the way.
With a sigh, he twisted the key to his penthouse, hoping to see you in bed already or on the couch in case you wanted your space. He practiced what he would say to you from the moment he left the Batcave.
This fight wouldn’t end in you two falling back into bed again. No, he would apologise and talk to you about what’s been frustrating him and then he will take you out on a date tomorrow and be a present boyfriend. The one you deserve.
Except when he got to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, he found a note stuck on the door right below a polaroid of you and him at his office at Wayne Enterprises.
His gaze lingered on the photo and let a small smile appear on his face at the memory. You were sitting on his lap behind his desk with your arms looped around his neck and his wrapped around your waist. The expression on your face was so beautiful, your nose scrunched in mock disgust at Tim kissing your cheek. He could almost feel you now if he closed his eyes.
He remembered Dick taking that photo and he silently thanked him for it.
He finally looked at the note below it and felt his heart sink.
“Gone home. Don’t call.”
He pulled the note off to see if you wrote anything on the back but it was empty. Not even an ‘I love you.’
Leaning back on the counter, he downed the whole bottle of water to wake himself up in case he was somehow dreaming. He let out a long defeated sigh and walked upstairs to his bedroom with heavy footsteps.
He knew you would be mad if he called, even more mad if he had showed up at your apartment at three in the morning.
He also knew that he truly and utterly fucked up.
-
You woke up to the pounding on your door. It took you a minute to realise you were back home in your own bed and not in the thousand dollar cloud your millionaire boyfriend slept on.
The pounding came again and you checked the time. 6 am, he had lasted longer than you expected.
You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and padded over to the front door, squinting at the morning light filtering in your living room.
Tim had a key to your apartment and he was still pounding like a mad man at six in the morning. If you weren’t angry at him before, you surely were now.
You pulled the door open with a huff and the sight in front of you almost made you melt.
Tim was standing at your front door with a bouquet in his hands. His eyes red and puffy like he had missed yet another night of sleep. His lips were curved downwards in a pout he wasn’t aware of. The hood of his maroon hoodie drawn up to hide his long hair but the strands that always fell over his eye were there, looking pretty as always. Making him look exactly like the pretty boy you called him.
“You’re not wearing my shirt,” was the first thing he said. “You always wear my shirts to bed.”
You looked down at yourself, momentarily forgetting exactly what you were wearing when you went to bed. The thin tank top and shorts you wore were not made for the morning chill in the living room.
“What do you want?” You said instead and rubbed your eyes.
“Sweetheart-” He began but you shook your head. “Can I come in please?”
“Go home Tim,” you sighed and made to close the door but he put his foot forward to stop you. “You’re so ughh!” You groaned and let him come inside.
He shut the door behind him and for a second, just stood there. A few steps away from you in your living room, just watching you look at him through squinted and sleep filled eyes.
And he swore it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke and handed you the bouquet.
“It’s not going to work,” you sighed but took the flowers from him and set them aside on the kitchen island.
“Yes it will!” Tim protested. “I’ll make it work, I’ll be better,” he went on and stepped forward to put his hands on your waist but you backed away from him.
“This is exactly what we do. I get it okay? You have things to do and I’m not blaming you for them. I just need something different and I think I should be with someone who wants the same things as me.”
“Don’t say that,” Tim said in a shaky voice. “Baby I promise I just need another chance I know I’ve been the worst boyfriend ever but I swear I’ll change–”
“I don’t want you to change who you are Tim. Not for me. You also need someone who’s more fit for your lifestyle, someone who fits in your world with you because I don’t,” you replied.
“But you do!” He reasoned, voice getting higher. “You do angel, you fit everywhere. You have no idea how I felt last night when I got home and you were gone. I don’t know where I fit if it’s not with you,” he went on and you finally let the tears you’d been holding back slip.
“I don’t know if I believe you,” you whispered and crossed your arms over your chest. “You’ve been saying the same things for weeks now. I don’t like arguing with you every single time we’re together.”
“I get it okay? I do. I understand why you wouldn’t believe me, hell if I were you I’d have kicked myself to the curb a long ago but I’m selfishly asking you for one last chance,” he pleaded. “You make me feel like myself. Like I don’t have to put on a show for anyone, like I don’t have to be on. I can just rest and you’ll let me. I realise that now I’ve been taking that for granted and you have expectations too.”
“You hurt me,” you managed to speak. “You’ve been hurting me.”
“I know sweetheart I’m an asshole,” he swallowed and stepped forward again to put his arms around you and this time, you let him.
You let yourself sink into his chest as he held you, letting the tears from last night finally spill. He rubbed his hand up and down your back and planted little kisses to your hair as if to say the things he couldn’t, like was reassuring you that he was there.
“Just one last chance I promise if I fuck up again, you have every right to beat me up.”
“I’m not going to beat you Tim,” you chuckled through tears and looked up in his tired half lidded eyes. His gorgeous blue eyes. “You have to promise to take breaks too. Let me take care of you.”
“I promise,” he nodded too quickly. “What else?”
“You’ll sleep and tell Batman to fuck off. He can find someone else to help I need you alive and well,” you said in a shaky but firm voice. “Or else he will have me to deal with.”
Tim chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll let him know,” he murmured and rested his head against yours. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you replied, barely above a whisper.
“Please don’t ever leave like that especially in the middle of the night.”
“I won’t,” you promised.
“In fact, what do you think about moving in together?” He asked with so much expectation in his eyes you couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to.
“We’ll talk about that later. For now can you please get into bed with me I’m tired and cold and I want cuddles,” you complained.
Tim chuckled again and gave you a brief kiss on the lips before nodding. He led you to the bedroom with a gentle grip on your wrist like he was afraid of letting you go even for a second.
Once inside, you quickly jumped in bed while Tim took off his hoodie. He put it aside on your desk chair and came to stand in front of you. His hands immediately went to your flimsy tank top and pulled it over your head.
“Wha-” You began but he quickly took off his own shirt and pulled it down your body.
He cupped your cheeks next and gave you a long and searing kiss. “Better,” he smiled against your lips and got into bed next to you, wasting no time in pulling you into his chest and tangling your legs.
“Good night,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to your nose.
“It’s morning,” you giggled and pinched his bare chest.
“It’s good night for us. Happy Sunday,” he added and tightened his arms around you.
“Good night baby,” you smiled against his collarbone and pressed a quick kiss there.
sorry if the ending is a bit rushed
send more requests for tim please!!! he has no fanfics and i miss him…
likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, hope you guys enjoy! <3
I want to bring attention to something I just saw and I’m genuinely horrified. I’m doing this post in hopes to reach as many people as possible so that everyone is aware of this situation and can take action against it.
TW: child trafficking
Vinted, eBay, etc. has a problem with people putting old baby stuff/ random stuff up for sale for 10-50k. The description is always describing the looks of a child, their age, etc... THEY SELL CHILDREN!! And those apps are doing NOTHING against it! I saw someone text one of them, and afterwards, these fucked up people reply and say that this is a CHILD BEING UP FOR SALE!!!! FOR PEDOPHILES!! I’m getting sick by just typing this.
Please, if you see anything like this on the app, report the account as many times as possible and report this issue to the police. Don’t stay silent. These sick fucking people need to be caught and should be dealt with.
dick grayson x reader
summary: you and dick try to decide on a movie for date night while he's out on patrol
contains: fluff, established relationship, gender neutral reader
word count: 900
a/n: first nightwing fic dont flame me if it's bad
“How about Princess Diaries?” you asked Dick, holding the phone up to your ear with one hand as the other scrolled through Disney+.
He took a moment to reply, the sound of punches and grunts coming through the other end of the line. Barbara had set up a private comm line for the two of you to talk through when the rest of the Batfam got sick of hearing Dick complain about missing you all night. Most of the time you left him alone to focus (much to his dismay), but tonight you had very important business – movie night.
“We watched that like two weeks ago, baby.” A loud thud sounded and Dick buffered for a moment. “What about Empire Strikes Back?”
“Dick, we rewatched the entire Star Wars franchise last month. There’s only so much Mark Hamill I can take.”
Dick gasped dramatically in disbelief, making you sigh, immediately knowing where this was going. “You take that back right now,” he said, his tone playful.
You hummed in reply and continued to scroll through various streaming services, trying to find a movie to land on. Dick stayed quiet on the other end of the line, something that only happened when he was truly focused and you didn’t want to disturb that. You heard him briefly switch lines and mumble something to Babs about a location he needed. It was the little moments like this that you cherished most in your relationship. Dick Grayson wasn’t a subtle person, he loved loudly with all the flourish and extravagance an acrobat carried. But when he slowed down, placid and focused, it was a different type of intimacy.
“Dick?” you whispered, afraid to disrupt the silence that had fallen over you.
It took another moment for him to reply as you listened to the sound of his escrima sticks landing. “Yeah, baby?”
“What was that movie you said you wanted to show me the other day? The other princess one?”
“Oh The Princess Bride? I love that movie.” You could practically hear his mood pick up.
“Let’s watch that then,” you settled. “What time do you think you’ll be done, babe?”
“I can leave right now if you want,” he replied.
“I didn’t ask if you can leave, I asked when you’ll be done. I don’t want you to cut your patrol short for this,” you sighed. You loved Dick and you wanted him back home, but you also know he has an important duty to the city. Blüdhaven is your home, someone has to protect it no matter how badly you want to cuddle up on the couch with your boyfriend and watch cheesy movies all night.
“I’ll head home after this next spot, how ‘bout that?”
You smiled, and even though Dick couldn’t see you, his heart warmed at the thought of coming home to you. You agreed and the two of you fell back into that comfortable silence. Well, as silent as it could get for being on a comm line with a vigilante in one of the most crime-ridden cities. For every page of your book you turned, there was a grunt or a kick, or the occasional smashing of glass. Dick’s heavy breaths became white noise, soothing you as you awaited his return home. No matter how anxious the sound of fighting – the sound of him risking his life – made you, the sound of his soft humming reassured you that he was there. Because in a world of suffocating silence, Dick would always be there to fill it in some way or another.
Thirty minutes later, you heard keys jingle through the phone and you smiled, looking up at the door expectantly. As it creaked open, the line cut and your boyfriend stumbled through the door. Most nights after patrol, Dick would sneak in through your bedroom window, but today he entered through the oak door with a shopping bag in one hand and keys in the other. As he set them on the table, you saw the little star keychain you had given him for your one year anniversary glint in the light. Dick looked up at you with a smile, his eyes softening under the domino mask, and you quickly got up to embrace him in a hug. You tilted your head, reaching up to peel the black mask off of his face. Dick dropped the grocery bag softly onto the carpet as he lifted his hand to cup your cheek. He kissed you softly and slowly, filled with passion that showed just how much he had missed you today. As he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours and placed one final kiss against your lips.
“What’s in the bag, handsome?” You asked slyly.
He smiled brightly at you. “Popcorn among other things. It’s movie night, baby.”
Dick left you to set up the movie while he showered and changed. When he came back, the living room was filled with blankets, pillows, and way too much junk food that Alfred would rat on him for later, but the man couldn’t be any happier. He pulled you into his arms as collapsed onto the sofa, the smell of his expensive cologne engulfing you. You tilted your head up to place a kiss along his jaw before pulling the blanket up higher, settling in against your boyfriend as the title screen of The Princess Bride appeared.
summary: It's Saturday night, and Dean and you have a weekly film and dinner date.
warnings: domestic fluff, Dean calls reader “babe”, just cute and loving Dean
author’s note: Hi again!! I wanted to write something quick and easy to read, so I wrote this blurb of Dean. Hope you enjoy it!! I know it’s short, but I think it’s very cute :). As always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, and requests are open ☀️
It’s Saturday night, and as every Saturday since you’ve been dating the hottest hockey player in Briar U, Dean di Laurentis, it's a film and international dinner night. You are baking dessert, while Dean chooses a takeout place to have dinner.
“Babe, Chinese or Italian?” he yells from the sofa.
“Italian, I’ve been craving a good carbonara since monday” you answer, and he starts laughing. He stands up from the sofa, and he hugs you from behind. You love it when he does that, because his smell hugs you too, making you feel loved, safe. He also leaves small kisses on your shoulder when he does it, and all you can do is smile and melt into his arms, as if you were meant to be there.
“You have some flour all over your face, babe” he says, cleaning the stain on your cheek with his thumb, gently caressing your face. Embarrassed, and laughing a lot, you hide your face in between your hands, and try to clean whatever flour is left in your face. You notice there is actually none.
“You LIAR!” You say between cackles, with the biggest smile on your face, while shoving some flour on Dean’s face. “Now you have some flour on your face, star player” you turn back again, trying to finish the cookie batter you’re making, when you feel Dean’s face on the small of your neck. He is cleaning his face against your neck, but he’s also leaving small kisses while doing so, so you don’t answer back.
“You like it?” he asks, with a grin on his face that shows his beautiful dimples.
“You know I love it when you do so, I don’t need to tell you every time”
“I just like to hear it from you” he answers, as he puts a finger in the cookie batter and tastes it. “The batter’s perfect, just like you”. He then kisses your head, and returns to the sofa to order the carbonara you were craving and some pizza for him.
Once the cookies are in the oven, you go to the sofa, and immediately fall in Dean’s lap, comfortably leaning against his broad chest, and he automatically kisses your head again, as if it was something natural (for him it was, but you can’t help but feel a little flip in your stomach every time he did so. You love it, and most importantly, you love him).
“We’re watching Crazy, Stupid, Love” he says with that grin you can’t resist.
“Again? Why?” you protest, but as soon as you see him looking at you your protest just melts away.
“Because I love this film.”
“Is it because of Ryan Gosling, the OG womanizer? He’s the freedom I “took” from you” you say, with air quotes, obviously joking.
“Firstly, you didn’t take anything from me, you actually gave me what I was missing to be truly happy. Second, Ryan Gosling’s character is not my favourite, it’s actually Steve Carell’s, because he’s very sure that his wife is the love of his life” he answers, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You kiss him, and as the film starts playing, the food arrives.
You feel the happiest in moments like these. Calm, comfortable moments in which your only worry is not burning the cookies, or what food you’re eating while watching the most atrocious or the most beautiful films ever. You love him, he loves you, and those moments are the most special for both of you, as you can be 100% yourselves without prying eyes on you the whole time. Dean stops being hockey star di Laurentis to be your boyfriend, Dean, baby, or whichever nickname you come up with at the moment talking to him. He cherishes these moments because of that, and so do you.
While he brushes your hair absentmindedly, and momentarily leaves kisses on the top of your head, you can’t help but fall asleep, as you feel calm, safe and most importantly, loved.
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