thinking about ex boyfriend!michael kaiser ૮ ˶′ﻌ ‵˶ ა
cw: suggestive
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who was the one to dump you because he wanted to focus on his career and thought you were needy and far too much of a distraction. needless to say things didn't end on good terms.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who can't fathom the mere possibility of you ever moving on from him; he's fully convinced that you still think about him on a daily basis. all of these thoughts are filled with his own self-projection, but he'd much rather choke before actually recognizing it.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who believes that anyone who comes after him would be nothing but a downgrade from your part. he'd still be mad as fuck if you decided to get into a relationship with someone else though.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who still holds onto things instead of getting rid of them. it could be even something as simple as one of your shirts that you accidentally left at his place or a gift that you gave him; they're reminders of you finding him lovable.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who convinces himself that all of his last harsh words were necessary for you to fully let go of him. the relationship itself was far from perfect anyway, but at least it meant something.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who tries to downplay the feelings he had for you. he'll sometimes just refer to what the two of you had as something casual—people always come and go, after all. it didn't matter how hollow he truly felt as long as the others didn't see a single glimpse of his insecurities.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who won't go out of his way to immediately mess around with other women after your breakup. if he considered you a distraction, then so are they. he doesn't offer himself to other people that easily, nor is seeking comfort in others while feeling distraught a habit of his.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who despite not getting romantically involved with other people he finds the rumors of him dating celebrities to be amusing—solely because he likes to think about you seeing them and missing him.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who looks at your socials from time to time just to see what you're up to, trying to think of this as just completely normal behavior.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who confronts you after finding out that you've allegedly been seeing someone recently. even if you're not dating said person, just the option of you being interested in them is enough to wound this man's ego.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who will at first try to keep some physical distance despite coming over to your place—his excuse? he just needed to pick up some of his stuff that he left, and also a great opportunity to mock you for even thinking of replacing him.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who against all his previous efforts of not succumbing to his own temptations, he still finds himself touching you all over after being granted permission.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who for the first time in ages murmurs some apologies about not only the breakup but how he treated you in the past too. the recent distance and silence between the two of you must've made him vulnerable.
ex boyfriend!michael kaiser who is love starved and makes it clear in the way he kisses you like there's no tomorrow. anyone would think that he's trying to suck the life out of you with the way his lips touch yours, barely giving you any space to breathe properly while tightly holding you to himself.
needy!bf alexis ness who constantly sends you texts throughout the day asking about your well-being, which also includes the usual "I love you's".
needy!bf alexis ness who cannot keep his hands off you even if his life depended on it—dating him means always having at least one of his hands on any available space of your skin.
needy!bf alexis ness who'd be even more whipped if you happened to feel just as lonely as he does; not only would it make him feel seen, but it'd also give him a twisted feeling of reassurance to know that he's the only one for you.
needy!bf alexis ness who is prone to jealousy once he realizes that you're giving far too much attention to other people in your life for his liking, but he'd never voice it.
needy!bf alexis ness who is a complete sucker for words of affirmation from your part; just hearing a direct reminder of your love is enough to quiet down his insecurities for a little while.
needy!bf alexis ness who'd at first have a hard time adapting to a relationship where he isn't only giving his all but also receiving.
needy!bf alexis ness who still puts your needs above his.
needy!bf alexis ness who can be overbearing sometimes even without realizing it. his mind would torment him with overthinking if the sentences "I just need some space" or "I just want some time alone" ever came out of your mouth.
needy!bf alexis ness who is most likely going to shed a few tears in secret if you're ever particularly mean to him.
needy!bf alexis ness whose tears are definitely of borderline shameful pleasure whenever it comes to the two of you in the bedroom; even if you're going vanilla, he'll still cry.
needy!bf alexis ness who'd never say no to your physical needs—he pretty much wants you all the damn time but doesn't confess it in fear of scaring you off.
needy!bf alexis ness who'd be absolutely weak for condescending praise, but he wouldn't say no to actual degradation either.
needy!bf alexis ness who never fails to be a whimpering mess; you can't expect him to be silent while actively messing with someone as sensitive as him.
needy!bf alexis ness who somehow always has enough stamina for the two to keep going as long as you want; doesn't matter if he feels like a complete wreck when you want another round.
needy!bf alexis ness who will pathetically beg just to be allowed to come inside you when you're on the pill; he'd also be panting with faint traces of tears on his face while doing so.
The loud sound of your apartment's doorbell cut through the usual silence. You were ready to fall asleep after a painfully draining day at college, yet he seemed to have different plans. Both of you have been ignoring each other for some time now due to a rather heated argument you had, in which he said far more than he should've. He definitely deserved to be left waiting on your doorstep like the burden he is, but against all better judgment—you let him in.
“I knew you wouldn’t resist.” not even a greeting or an apology; you were met with his irritating, all-too-familiar arrogance, which was reflected in his mocking smirk.
"What do you want?" a sharp response accompanied by a peeved expression.
He looked down at you, those strong hands already making their way to your hips. "Take a wild guess." he murmured, swiftly moving you aside just enough for him to come in.
It had been a while since the last time you felt his hands on you like that—even though it didn't seem like much at first, he never missed the opportunity to manhandle you. A shiver ran down your spine anytime he did, as pathetic as it sounds.
"I wouldn't know," you said while closing the door behind him and locking it "You were pretty clear about how much of a distraction I am. I wouldn't want to get in your precious way any further."
He let out a small scoff at your words. "Just as petty as ever..."
You scoffed right back at him, moving just close enough to lightly push his chest with your hand. "How am I the petty one? You got offended just because I wanted to know what any of this is."
As infuriating as he was, you’d already gotten a sense of what kind of person Michael Kaiser was. Looking back, it would have been much easier if he’d simply turned out to be just another one of the many arrogant male athletes. Strong, wealthy, but still way more handsome than the vast majority of them... It would be expected for him to be a womanizer, wouldn't it? Strangely enough, though, that hadn't been the case for him. Of course, there were occasional rumors, but they never amounted to anything more than sensationalist articles that were forgotten within a week.
Why were you even chosen as the recipient of his emotions anyway? The reality of this connection—which wasn't even a real relationship to begin with—still seemed confusing.
"Are labels a way of reassurance to you?" he questioned just low enough for you to still hear him, the look on his face almost conflicted. "Always wanting to know this and that solely because I decide to show up. How do you expect me to stay with this attitude?"
One of his hands proceeded to move yours away from his chest just to hold it. Even in gestures as small as these, it was noticeable how he always sought control—his fingers didn't interlace with yours, they just made sure to keep your hand practically engulfed by his.
"I don't expect nor do I need you to stay, Michael." a curt reply, huffing at him as you pulled your hand back and turned around.
Before managing to take enough steps away, he had already decided to tightly hug you from behind. The mixture of his emanating body heat along with the scent of his expensive cologne was overwhelming.
"Anyone could notice your lies from a mile away," he contradicted prior to resting his face against the side of your neck. Shamelessly, he even decided to sniff it.
"Ugh!" you complained, already fed up with his insufferable antics—but not so much with his touch. The worst part is that he was fully aware of that fact.
His hold stayed firm despite your squirming. "What if I just came here because I wanted to see you? We have both been through a lot this week…"
"I am not letting you hit."
A few chuckles were felt right against your skin's surface. "Right... Fair enough. But that just means you aren't really that repulsed by my presence."
You clicked your tongue at his words. "So what? You came all the way here and won't refuse to spend time with me?"
He rolled his eyes almost immediately. Of course he did. It has already become usual for you to notice how he didn't like it when his actions could come off as too affectionate—because he refused to be your boyfriend, even if he pretty much behaved like one.
"We can watch a movie together if you're that damn desperate."
Before you could tease him about his hardly hidden compliance, one of his strong hands cupped your face and pulled it closer to kiss you. Even when you two weren't full-on making out, he never failed to make you feel as if you were suffocating whenever he got too greedy.
Because much to his dislike, he was, in fact, hungry for your unconditional love.
"he knows where home is!" except he doesn't
bf!otoya eita x loser!reader who is severely attached to him ૮ ྀིᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ྀིა
bf!otoya eita who doesn't love you half as much as you love him, to him, this is pretty much just a game that will last a month at most.
bf!otoya eita who becomes your first everything after years of watching others experience things from afar.
bf!otoya eita who is a love bombing final boss; he'll pamper you just enough for his feelings to be accepted and then proceed to neglect you.
bf!otoya eita whose actions make your already unwell emotional state even worse, he'll sometimes shower you with suffocating affection while other days he'll barely acknowledge you. as a result, you become dependent on his attention.
bf!otoya eita who has a personality and social status that are nowhere near similar to yours. most people around you wonder how both of you even became a couple with how painfully shy you are.
bf!otoya eita who will groan and complain whenever you get way too insecure for his liking, his excuses often run along the lines of "you're thinking about it too much" or "it's never that serious".
bf!otoya eita who is dating you just for the sake of gaining more experience with the "quiet type" and because you're cute enough for him.
bf!otoya eita who constantly tells you that it's "just a friend" whenever another girl gets weirdly affectionate with him, and you never have the courage to tell them off either.
bf!otoya eita who has made you go through the embarrassment of receiving a "hey girl! ik you don't know me but..." dm on countless occasions.
bf!otoya eita who is relieved that you aren't the party type since he gets to go to as many as he wants without you bothering him.
bf!otoya eita who pretty much has to babysit you during the one time you actually decide to tag along. the amount of girls who deliberately ignore you as they talk to him frustrates you even further.
bf!otoya eita who brushed off doesn't notice how much your mood has worsened since the two of you arrived here; his arm still stayed wrapped around your shoulder for most of the time though.
bf!otoya eita who tries to distract you by giving you multiple kisses, just enough for your mind to stop it's punishing train of self-loathing thoughts; you can feel the faint scent of alcohol coming from them.
bf!otoya eita who constantly mentions how pretty you are or how much he loves you with slightly half-lidded eyes after accidentally drinking more than he should.
bf!otoya eita whose hands all of a sudden refuse to leave you for even a second; he gets rather clingy once he's drunk enough.
bf!otoya eita who decides to sleep over at the host's house along with some of his friends whereas you choose to leave.
bf!otoya eita whose name already appears on top of your dms the next morning after someone tells you that he cheated on you, again.
By now, he should have gotten pretty used to your antics, but there was still something that made him feel kind of awkward around you.
Maybe it was the fact that you were pretty much nuzzling your face against his neck while murmuring sweet-nothings against it. Your arms were tightly wrapped around him too as both of you lay on his bed after he came back from practice.
"You're more eager than usual..." It was just a quiet and almost shy observation from his part.
You hummed lightly at his words, relishing almost immediately the way his fingers trailed light touches against your back. "Of course I am... I missed you."
"We literally saw each other yesterday."
"Still."
For the sake of teasing, you decided to lightly grab his nose in between your knuckles for a brief moment before letting go. He huffed, the tip of his ears turning red as his hands squeezed your waist just enough for you to notice while looking away—that same usual smile present on his face.
Was it even normal for a friend to be this clingy? His lack of experience didn't help much either, but Yoichi preferred to just brush it off instead of making a big deal out of it. You looked peaceful and seemed to be having the time of your life; who was he to deny you that?
In a small, yet rather bold move, one of his hands moved up just enough to place a few strands of hair behind your ear. It was only then that you felt his lips kiss your forehead for a small moment before he pulled back.
"Yoichi! Why would you do that?!" you exclaimed, immediately embarrassed at the gesture while letting out a few small nervous giggles.
"I-I'm sorry! I just, uh, I thought you'd like it and I—"
He was so stupidly cute, way too endearing for his own good. Before he could apologize any further, you grabbed his face just enough for him to make a pouty expression and proceed to smooch his cheeks... Multiple times.
"Come onnn..."
His whiny attitude just encouraged you to continue to shower him in all that incessant affection. Despite seeming to be kind of nervous at first, a few chuckles were eventually heard from him as your lips made their way not only around his face but his neck too.
"I sometimes wish I could just crawl under your skin... This is so unfair!"
"Well, it's a good thing you can't," he murmured, the tip of his fingers now moving up and down just slowly enough to make you arch your back involuntarily.
The bond you two had has yet to be clarified, but for now, it somehow felt right to be kissing your best friend anywhere but his lips as both of you snuggled together.
SYNOPSIS — if he’s not cheating on you… what is he hiding?
CONTENT — hurt/comfort | established relationship, reader being stubborn & kissing
WC — 6.5k
NOTE — i’ve only just started watching invincible and it’s safe to say i’m obsessed so… enjoy this and i apologise if he’s mischaracterised :)
MASTERLIST
You and Mark were supposed to be studying. That had been the plan for the last forty minutes, anyway. Your notebook was open, your textbook was spread across your desk, and a half-finished problem sat in the margin while you tried to focus on the page.
Behind you, Mark had been making a spectacular effort to be absolutely no help at all. He was stretched out on your bed like he lived there, one arm behind his head, the other lazily tapping against his knee as he watched you work.
Every few minutes he would try to distract you, making some dramatic comment about how unfair homework was, how cruel teachers were, and how there were clearly better ways to spend an evening.
Like watching a movie. Like eating snacks. Like doing literally anything else—or each other.
“You’re not convincing me,” you said without looking up, writing another line of answers.
Mark sighed like you had personally wounded him. “I’m not trying to convince you. I’m trying to save you.”
You fought the smile threatening to show, shaking your head. “From algebra?”
“From suffering,” he countered, shrugging.
You shot him a look, and he grinned that easy, maddening grin that always made it hard to stay irritated for very long. You tried to go back to your notes, but Mark was clearly enjoying himself now, watching you pretend not to notice him while he made it impossible to concentrate. Every time you got through a line, he found another way to pull your attention away.
There was a moment of quiet before Mark stood, the faint creak of the floorboards giving him away just before his hands settled gently on your shoulders. You froze for half a second before relaxing under his touch. His thumbs pressed gently into the knots there, slow and careful at first, then with just enough pressure to make you exhale and sink back into the chair.
“You are evil,” you muttered.
“Maybe,” he said, voice low and amused near your ear. “But I’m useful.”
His hands moved in a steady rhythm, warm through the fabric of your shirt, easing the tension you had not realised you were holding. You tried to keep reading, but then he bent slightly and pressed a light, teasing kiss along your jaw.
“Mark,” you warned, but it came out weaker than you meant it to.
“Hm?” he shot back immediately.
He did it again, just once, softer this time, and you turned your head just enough to catch the smug look on his face.
“You are absolutely doing this on purpose,” you whispered, fighting to keep your eyes from closing.
“Maybe I just want you to take a break,” he replied lightly.
“You want me to give up,” you grumbled.
“I prefer the phrase ‘spend quality time with your boyfriend.’” he corrected, amusement threading through his voice.
That finally broke your resistance. You let out a long breath, closed your textbook with a thud, and leaned back against him.
“Fine,” you said. “We can watch a movie.”
Mark looked far too pleased with himself. “Knew you’d come around.”
“Don’t act like you won,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes teasingly.
“I did win,” he hummed, shrugging.
“You cheated,” you shook your head, turning around and gently shoving his shoulder.
“Romantic persuasion is not cheating,” he grinned boyishly,
You laughed despite yourself, and he kissed the top of your head like he’d been waiting for that exact sound.
A few minutes later, the two of you were on your bed, the homework forgotten in a messy pile. Mark had pulled the covers up, one arm slung loosely around you while the movie menu glowed softly on the screen. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the TV and the faint noise outside your window.
The opening credits of the movie had just begun to play when his phone buzzed. Mark checked it, and something in his expression changed so fast you almost missed it. The teasing softness vanished, replaced by a tense, unreadable look that flickered across his face and disappeared just as quickly.
“What is it?” you asked, trying to see what was on his phone.
He locked the screen too quickly. “Nothing.”
You frowned at him. “That didn't sound like nothing.”
He gave you a smile, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “It’s probably just something I need to handle.”
“Handle?” you repeated, confusion written on your face.
“Yeah. Just—something came up,” he avoided your eyes, running a hand through his hair.
You watched him carefully, searching his face for the usual joke, the usual easy explanation, but it did not come.
He stood up, already halfway to the door. “I’m sorry.”
“Mark?” you said, sitting up.
He hesitated, like he wanted to say more. For one second, it looked like he might. Then the phone buzzed again, and whatever he had been about to tell you shut down completely.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said quickly.
“That is not an explanation,” you mumbled, crossing your arms.
“I know,” he whispered, looking genuinely torn for a moment, and that made it worse.
Whatever was pulling him away, it was important enough to make him leave in a hurry, but not important enough for him to tell you what it was. Before you could ask again, he leaned down and kissed your forehead, quick and careful, like he was trying to leave something soft behind in place of the unanswered questions.
“Don’t finish the movie without me,” he added, giving you a small, apologetic smile.
Then he was gone. You were left sitting on your bed with the movie menu still open, the room suddenly too quiet, and his side of the blanket already going cold.
A while passed before you heard anything. At first, you tried to keep the movie on. You really did. It was something light, something easy, but you barely registered the opening scene. Your attention kept drifting back to the door, to your phone, to the silence he’d left behind.
Eventually, you gave up. The TV was still playing softly in the background, but you’d curled up on your bed, wrapped tightly in Mark’s hoodie—the one he’d left behind without thinking. It still smelled like him, faintly warm and familiar, which only made the knot in your chest worse.
The movie had long since blurred into meaningless noise, the soft glow of the screen casting flickering light across your room. You told yourself you weren’t waiting but you absolutely were. So when you finally heard the window shift open, the sound was sharp enough to make you sit up immediately.
Mark climbed in like it was the most normal thing in the world, landing lightly on his feet. He was holding a couple of takeout bags, and—of course—he had that same stupid, boyish smile on his face, like nothing had happened.
“Hey,” he said easily, glancing up at you like this was just another normal night. “You’re still awake.”
You stared at him for a second, completely unimpressed. “Brilliant observation.”
His smile faltered just slightly, but he recovered fast, lifting the bags a little like they explained everything. “I brought peace offerings.”
You stared at him. “That is not the point, Mark.”
He winced, setting the food down carefully on your desk like he was approaching a wild animal. “Okay. Fair.”
You didn’t move from where you were, still wrapped up in his hoodie. “You left me sitting here with no explanation,” you said, each word sharper than the last. “You just walked out. No explanation. No message. Nothing.”
“I said I’d make it up to you,” he tried, though there wasn’t much confidence behind it now.
“That’s not making it up to me,” you shot back immediately. “That’s avoiding the problem.”
Mark dragged a hand through his hair, the easy confidence from earlier slipping through his fingers. “I know, I just—”
You stood up then, the movement quick and deliberate, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “You what?”
“I had to go,” he said, softer now. “It wasn’t something I could ignore.”
Your jaw tightened. “And you couldn’t tell me that before you left?”
“I didn’t have time,” he protested weakly.
You let out a short, incredulous breath. “You had time to grab takeout.”
“That was after,” he mumbled.
“That’s not helping your case,” you said, briefly clenching your jaw.
“No, I—yeah, I know,” he muttered, glancing away for a second.
He let out a small breath, clearly trying to figure out how to fix this without actually explaining anything. It would’ve almost been impressive if it wasn’t so frustrating.
“You’re mad,” he said, like he was testing the obvious.
“Oh, really?” you said sarcastically.
“I deserve that,” he nodded slowly.
“Yes,” you said flatly. “You do.”
He opened his mouth, probably to make some half-hearted excuse, but you had already noticed the detail that ruined any chance he had of talking his way out of it.
Just above the collar of his shirt, barely hidden beneath the fabric, was a dark mark on the side of his neck. Faintly purple, edged in red, like it had only just started to bloom. Small enough that he might’ve thought you wouldn’t notice—but obvious enough that once you did, it was impossible to look away from.
Your stomach dropped so fast it almost made you feel sick. “What is that?”
Mark blinked, caught off guard. “What is what?”
Your eyes didn’t leave his neck. You were already moving before he could react, closing the distance between you in two quick steps. Your hand came up without thinking, fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you tilted his chin to the side. Your fingers hovered just beneath his jaw, eyes locked on the mark.
“That,” you said, and even you could hear the strain in your voice now. “On your neck.”
The instant he saw the change in your face, Mark lifted a hand to cover it, a little too quickly to be casual. His fingers pressed over the spot like he could make it disappear by sheer force of will.
“It’s not what you think,” he said, words rushing out now. “It’s nothing.”
You stared at him, disbelief crashing through you so fast it almost made you laugh. “That is not nothing.”
“It’s just—uh—” he stalled, eyes flicking away for a second like he was searching for something—anything—that would sound believable.
“A what, Mark?” you pressed, your voice sharper now. “Because it looks a lot like a hickey.”
His expression changed immediately. “It’s not a hickey.”
“It really looks like one,” you said bluntly.
“It’s not,” he insisted.
You let out a short, humorless laugh, stepping back just enough to look at him properly. “You disappeared for over an hour, came back with food, and have a suspicious mark on your neck.”
“It is not suspicious,” Mark said dumbly.
“It is extremely suspicious,” you quipped.
Mark exhaled through his nose, the kind of breath that meant he was trying very hard not to react the wrong way. “I know how this looks—”
“Do you?” you cut in, your voice rising now, frustration slipping through. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks pretty bad.”
He looked genuinely thrown now, as if he had expected anything except this. His hands lifted slightly, then hovered uselessly at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then explain it,” you huffed.
“I can’t,” Mark said weakly.
You laughed again, but this time it broke a little. “Of course you can’t.”
“It’s not—” he stopped himself, jaw tightening, then tried again, softer. “It’s really not what you think, I swear.”
You shrugged, losing all patience, “Then what is it?”
“I just—” He shook his head, frustrated, like the words were there but he physically couldn’t say them. “I can’t explain it right now.”
“Right now?” you repeated, incredulous. “When exactly were you planning on explaining it, Mark? Because right now would be great.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Nothing. And that silence was worse than anything he could have said. You stepped back again, putting space between you, arms folding tighter around yourself as the sleeves of his hoodie slipped over your hands again.
“You know what?” you said, your tone suddenly very still. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he asked quietly.
“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice wasn’t as steady now, no matter how hard you tried. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But don’t stand there and act like I’m stupid.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he shook his head, frowning.
“Then stop treating me like I am,” you said exasperatedly.
“I’m not—” he tried to protest.
“You disappeared,” you said, your voice shaking now. “You came back with takeout like that fixes everything, and now you won’t even tell me the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth,” Mark tried, his voice quietening, “just not all of it.”
“That’s the problem, Mark,” you sighed.
Silence fell between you again, heavier this time. The food sat untouched on the desk. The movie still played in the background, completely forgotten. Mark looked at you like he wanted to fix it, like he just didn’t know how without breaking something bigger.
“I didn’t do anything like that,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
Your eyes stung, and the frustration in your chest finally spilled over.
“Fuck, Mark,” you snapped, the frustration finally spilling over. “Just admit it! You’re cheating on me.”
“Woah—” Mark said immediately, stepping forward, hands raised like he could stop the words from landing. His eyes went wide, panic flashing across his face. “No—no, I’m not—I promise, I’m not—”
“Then what am I supposed to think?” you shot back, your voice breaking despite yourself. “Because you won’t tell me anything!”
“I know,” he said, desperate now, running a hand through his hair again. “I know how it looks, I just—I can’t explain it, okay? Not like this.”
“That’s not fair,” you whispered painfully.
“I’m trying!” he snapped, then immediately softened, regret flashing across his face. “I’m trying, I just—”
You shook your head, swallowing hard, blinking away the sting in your eyes as you looked away from him. “You need to leave.”
Mark didn’t move. For a second, it was like he hadn’t processed it—like if he just stood still long enough, the moment might rewind, undo itself, give him another chance to fix it properly.
“You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.
You did. But you couldn’t say it again—not without your voice breaking completely—so instead, you turned away from him.
“Can we just—talk about this?” he tried, softer now. “Please?”
The hurt in his voice almost made you falter, but you swallowed it down and shook your head, already moving back toward your bed. “We are talking about it, Mark. You’re just not saying anything.”
He took a step closer. “Just—give me a minute, okay? I can explain, I just—”
“Not right now,” you cut in, climbing into bed and pulling the blanket up around you like a shield. “That’s what you said.”
He flinched slightly at his own words thrown back at him. “That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean?” you snapped, turning your back to him before he could answer. You curled in on yourself, facing the wall, the fabric of his hoodie bunching under your chin as you pulled it tighter around you. “Because I’m donetrying to guess.”
Mark stayed where he was for a moment, like he was trying to decide whether to push again or give you the space you were clearly asking for. You could practically feel him there, just behind you—hesitating. Your shoulders stayed rigid, your hands gripping the blanket as if it were the only thing holding you together.
For a while, he didn’t move at all. The silence stretched long enough that you almost thought he might ignore you, might stay anyway, might try one last time to break through the distance you’d put between you.
Instead, you heard a quiet exhale. Then the soft sound of his footsteps crossing the room. They stopped right beside the bed and you felt the mattress dip slightly as he leaned closer, hesitating again—like even now, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.
Then, gently—carefully—his hand brushed back just enough of your hair to expose your forehead. The kiss he pressed there was light, tentative. Lingering for just a second longer than it needed to, like he didn’t quite want to pull away.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, barely above a whisper.
Then the window slid open again, and a moment later, he was gone.
The next few days at school felt strangely louder than usual. Not because anything had changed in the halls—the same lockers slammed, the same voices echoed off the tiled floors, the same teachers called for everyone to hurry along before the bell—but because now every place Mark appeared felt impossible to ignore.
He tried, at first, to act like nothing was wrong. You saw him in the hallway on Monday morning, just outside your second-period class. He was standing near the lockers with his backpack slung over one shoulder, talking to some classmates, but the second his eyes found you, the conversation around him seemed to fade from his attention completely. His expression shifted in that tiny, instinctive way it always did when he saw you—softening at the edges, like you were still the first person he wanted to look at no matter what was going on.
You kept walking, eyes forward, gripping your books a little tighter against your chest as you passed him. You could feel his stare following you anyway, warm and hesitant and full of something you refused to let yourself think about.
“Hey,” he said quietly as you went by but you didn't answer.
There was the smallest pause, like he might reach out, like he might say your name again, but he didn’t. By the time you glanced over your shoulder, he had already gone still, looking after you with an expression that made your stomach twist unpleasantly.
He looked like he wanted to follow but you turned away before he could. It did not get easier after that. In class, he kept trying to sit near you. If there was an empty seat beside you, he would drift toward it like he had every intention of pretending the two of you were normal. If you moved your things to claim space before he could, he would hesitate for a second, looking almost sheepish, then settle somewhere else with a look on his face that suggested he was trying very hard not to make it obvious how much that bothered him.
The second day, he did manage to sit beside you in history. You noticed his hesitation before he even sat down. He slid into the chair next to yours carefully, keeping a little too much distance between your elbows, his notebook placed neatly on the desk as if he were trying to prove he could be respectful and normal.
For a few minutes, he did not speak. He just sat there, one knee bouncing under the desk, glancing at you every so often like he was waiting for some sign that this might be the moment you finally looked at him.
You stared at the board, copied down notes, and pretended very hard that the sudden awareness of his presence did not make it difficult to breathe. Then, very quietly, so quietly you almost missed it, he nudged a folded slip of paper toward your notebook.
You ignored it, continuing to write until the bell rang. When you finally gathered your things and stood to leave, he straightened too quickly beside you, like he was hoping to catch you before you disappeared into the crowd.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“No,” you mumbled, walking away.
It came out sharper than you meant, but not sharp enough to stop him from looking stricken. You heard him say your name, but you were already out the door. By lunch on Wednesday, he had run out of ways to pretend he was not trying. You found him before he found you, which made the whole thing worse in a way you had not expected.
You were walking past one of the side tables near the cafeteria when you spotted him across the room. He was half turned in your direction, tray in hand, the second his eyes landing on you making his shoulders go subtly tense.
He looked like he had been in the middle of a joke a second earlier, but whatever expression had been there vanished the moment he saw you. He said something to the people beside him—probably an excuse, probably nothing important—and then he started toward you.
“Wait,” he said under his breath, falling into step beside you.
“I’m busy,” you shook your head, keeping your gaze away from his.
He let out a small, humorless breath. “You’re walking to lunch.”
“Yes,” you shrugged. “Busy.”
That should have made him stop. It should have made him back off. Instead, he fell silent for a beat, then said, “I’ve been trying to talk to you.”
You stopped so suddenly he nearly took another step before catching himself. The hallway around you kept moving, students threading past with bags bumping against their sides, but you and Mark stood in the middle of it all like a pair of magnets that had finally hit the wrong side of each other.
“I noticed,” you said, voice low and tight.
He looked like he had been punched and refused to show it. “Then why won’t you listen?”
You laughed once, but there was no humour in it. “You really want to ask me that?”
For a second, he looked exactly like he had that night in your room—stuck between saying too much and saying nothing at all. That same frustrating, helpless look. The one that made you want to yell and also made you want to believe him anyway.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I messed up.”
You stared at him, then went around him without answering. His shoulders sagged slightly as you passed, and you hated that you noticed.
After that, he kept trying in smaller ways. He held doors open when you were close enough to ignore him. He slowed down in the hall just enough to make sure you would not have to squeeze past him, but not enough that it looked intentional.
Once, in the middle of chemistry, he quietly slid your dropped pencil back onto your desk without saying a word, his fingers brushing the edge of your notebook for the briefest second before he pulled away.
By Thursday, it had started to feel like a pattern. Mark would appear near your locker and then find an excuse to linger. He would catch your eye in the hallway, start toward you with that careful hopeful look on his face, and then stop when you turned away first.
It should have made you feel powerful. Mostly it just made everything ache. Because even when you were angry, he still looked at you like he cared. Even when you refused to speak to him, he still found ways to stay close without pushing too hard. And that made it impossible to forget how much you wanted him to simply say the right thing.
At the end of the day on Friday, you were at your locker when you heard his voice behind you.
“Hey,” you heard his voice.
You did not turn around at first. Your fingers stayed on the lock, though you had already opened it three times without taking anything out.
“Please,” he said, quieter now.
You shut the locker door slowly and finally turned. He was standing a few feet away, looking tired in a way that school had nothing to do with. His hair was a little messy, his backpack only half zipped, and there was something cautious in his expression that made him look younger than usual. More vulnerable.
“I just want to talk,” he said. “Please… I’ll explain everything.”
“Not right now, Mark,” you sigh, averting your gaze to the floor. “Eve wants to—
“Please,” he begged, reaching for your hand. “Please.”
Something in the way he said it—the way his voice dipped, the way he looked at you like this was his last shot—finally cracked through the wall you’d been holding up all week.
You exhaled sharply through your nose. “Fine. One minute.”
Relief flickered across his face so fast it almost hurt to see. “Okay. Okay—yeah, okay.”
You narrowed your eyes. “But if you waste my time—”
“I won’t,” he said immediately.
He led you out of the building, past the usual after-school crowd, past the buses and the noise and the lingering groups of students. The farther you went, the quieter it got, until the sounds of school faded. Eventually, he stopped near the edge of the grounds, behind a cluster of overgrown bushes and a half-forgotten fence line that no one really paid attention to.
You folded your arms, glancing around. “Wow. Romantic. Really setting the mood here.”
Mark huffed a quiet laugh under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s private.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly. “If you brought me out here to confess something weird, I’m going to need you to be a lot more specific.”
He looked at you then and for a second, the nerves were obvious. “I just need you to trust me for like… five minutes.”
“That depends heavily on what happens in those five minutes,” you said dryly.
Then, without much warning, Mark shrugged his backpack off his shoulder and dropped it to the ground.
You blinked. “Okay…?”
He crouched down, unzipping it quickly, like he’d already made up his mind and didn’t want to give himself time to hesitate again.
“Mark,” you said slowly, suspicion creeping in, “what are you doing?”
“Just—hang on.” He pulled something out.
You pointed at the bundle in his hands. “That. Is that your explanation?”
His face did something strange then—half confusion, half realisation. “Oh.”
You crossed your arms. “Oh?”
Mark glanced up at you, just for a second, then back down as he stood. “I think you’re misunderstanding.”
“Am I?” you asked flatly. “Because right now it looks like you dragged me behind the school so you could show me a superhero Halloween costume.”
That got a tiny smile out of him again, despite everything. He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose and shook his head. “It’s not a costume.”
Your eyes flicked down as he started pulling his hoodie off, and you immediately looked away, exasperated. “Oh my god, are you serious right now?”
“I need you to see this,” he said, a little more urgently now. “Just—give me a second.”
You crossed your arms tighter, leaning back slightly as you watched him, completely unimpressed. “You know, most people go with flowers. Maybe a heartfelt speech. Not… stripping behind a bush.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, “I figured you’d say something like that.”
You gestured vaguely at him. “Because this is insane.”
He didn’t argue with that. Instead, he pulled off his shirt, and for a second, your brain couldn't quite process what you were seeing. Bruises, faint in some places, darker in others, scattered across his chest and along his ribs.
Some were small, barely noticeable unless you were looking for them. Others weren’t. Your gaze dropped, tracking the line of them across his stomach, the uneven pattern of healing marks that didn’t make sense.
You couldn’t look away. Because there was one mark that stood out more than the rest. It cut up from his chest—long, thin, and darker than the others. Not round like a bruise from impact. Not scattered like the rest.
A sharp, whip-like streak that trailed upward toward his collarbone, Toward his neck. Toward the exact place where—
“…that’s…” you started, but the words didn’t come out right.
Your eyes flicked from his chest to his neck, then back again, the realiSation settling in piece by piece, replacing anger with something far more uncertain.
“That’s what I saw,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now. “The other night… That wasn’t—” you swallowed, your throat suddenly tight. “It wasn’t a hickey.”
“No.” He shook his head once as he finished pulling the suit on. He bent down and picked up his backpack, glancing at you with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “Do you trust me?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” you huffed, crossing your arms.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost fragile. He held out his hand, and the small tremor in his fingers betrayed how serious he was. “Do you… trust me?”
For a second, you wanted to say no. You wanted to stay angry, wanted to keep your heart guarded and your face set in a glare that would make him finally explain himself properly.
But the truth was already pressing against everything else. So after a beat, you exhaled slowly, sliding your hand into his and, without fully trusting your own judgment, said, “Yes.”
He stepped closer at once, reaching for you carefully as if he was worried you might change your mind. One arm slipped around your back, the other under your legs, and before you could fully process what he was doing, he lifted you into his arms with a steadiness that made your breath catch.
“Hold on,” he murmured, adjusting his grip under your thighs. “Just hold on tight.”
“Wait, why—?” you started, but your words dissolved into a sharp yelp as the ground dropped away. “What the fuck, Mark? You can fly?!”
“Yes,” he said, his voice carrying the thrill of movement, the wind whipping your hair into your face. “I can fly.”
Your legs instinctively squeezed around his waist as he surged higher, the trees and the school shrinking beneath you. The sky stretched wide, the air cool and rushing, and your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach and then tried to leap back up again.
“Mark—Mark, this is not funny!” you half-shouted, half-laughed in disbelief, your face pressing instinctively into his shoulder as you held on tighter. “You’re insane—this is insane—”
“I’ve got you,” he said quickly, his voice steadier than yours, grounding despite everything. “Hey—hey, look at me. You’re safe with me.”
You shook your head instinctively. “No, I am not looking down, I am absolutely not looking—”
“Not down,” he said, softer now. “At me.”
Slowly—hesitantly—you lifted your head, and looked at him. The wind still rushed around you, the sky stretching endlessly behind him, but for a moment it all blurred into nothing. It was just Mark—hovering there like this was the most natural thing in the world, his hands steady on you.
You searched his face, trying to reconcile this impossible, unbelievable thing, with the boy you’d been arguing with just minutes ago.
“You can fly,” you said again, quieter this time, like saying it softer might make it make more sense.
A small, almost sheepish smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah.”
You stared at him, shaking your head slightly as you tried to process everything. “You’re… this… what?”
“I’m…” he started, then stopped, exhaling softly. His eyes flicked over your face, like he was trying to read every reaction before it even happened. “I’m Invincible.”
You searched his face again, harder this time, looking for the hint of a grin, the spark of teasing, anything that would tell you this was another one of his ridiculous jokes.
You stared at him in complete disbelief. “That is the dumbest superhero name I’ve ever heard.”
Despite himself, something almost like a laugh slipped out of him. He shrugged weakly, nodding. “Yeah.”
“You’re actually a superhero,” you whispered. “And you just—never thought to mention that?”
Mark let out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh but heavier. “It’s not exactly something I can just bring up over homework.”
Your gaze dropped for a second, then came back up to his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s dangerous,” he said quietly. “Not just for me.”
You frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means… the people I deal with—the things I deal with—they don’t just go after me.” His voice lowered, more serious than you’d ever heard it. “They go after people I care about. “And you…” he hesitated, eyes flicking away for a split second before coming back to you. “You’re not just someone I care about. I didn’t want you getting hurt because of me. I thought if I kept it separate—if I didn’t drag you into it—you’d be safer.”
“You thought lying to me was safer?” you asked, but there wasn’t as much bite in it now
“I thought keeping you out of it was,” he admitted.
“You should’ve told me,” you said finally, your voice quieter now.
“I know,” he said softly, nodding slowly.
You furrowed your brows, angry at yourself. “I thought you were cheating on me.”
His eyes widened slightly. “I know—and I hated that. I just didn’t know how to fix it without… this.”
For a long second, neither of you said anything. The wind rushed past, loud and steady, tugging at your clothes and hair while the world stretched out impossibly far below. Mark was still watching you like he was bracing himself—for anger, for disbelief, for you to pull away from him even now.
Instead, you blinked once. Then again. And then, completely out of nowhere, a short, breathless laugh slipped out of you.
Mark froze. “What?”
You shook your head slightly, still staring at him like you were trying to rearrange everything you thought you knew. “I’m sorry, I’m just—”
Another small laugh escaped you, and you dragged one hand up to your face for a second, pressing your fingers against your forehead like that might help.
“I am literally online all the time,” you said, looking back at him. “Like, chronically online.”
Mark’s expression shifted, confusion cutting through the tension. “Okay…?”
“And you’re telling me,” you continued, incredulous now, “that my boyfriend is Invincible, and I just… missed it?”
He blinked at you.
You stared right back at him. “There are videos. There are photos. There are, like, entire forums dedicated to you.”
“I—well—yeah, probably,” he admitted awkwardly.
“And somehow,” you went on, lowering your hand and staring at him in pure disbelief, “my own boyfriend being a superhero completely escaped me.”
When you put it like that, it sounded even more ridiculous.
Mark huffed out a small, nervous laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “In my defence, I was trying very hard to not be obvious.”
“You broke my door once,” you said flatly.
He looked almost apologetic, but there was a tiny spark of amusement in his eyes now too. “That was one time.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You told me it ‘just fell off its hinges.’”
That earned a small, helpless laugh from him. “It kind of did—”
“Mark," you huffed, sending him a look.
“Okay, yeah, that one’s on me," he winced.
Despite everything—the anger, the confusion, the lingering hurt—your lips twitched. Just slightly. Then your expression softened again, your gaze dropping briefly to his chest, to the fading bruises, to the mark that had started all of this.
“I should’ve noticed,” you said more quietly this time, looking back up at him. “I feel stupid.”
Mark’s expression changed instantly at that, the humour fading into something softer and more careful. “Hey. No, don’t.”
You huffed, looking away for a second before meeting his eyes again. “You are only getting away with this because we are floating and also because I am currently too shocked to fully yell at you.”
His smile widened a fraction. “Good to know.”
You glared at him, but the glare did not have much force behind it now. Not when you were still clinging to him in midair, not when the world had just tilted itself upside down and somehow he was still looking at you like you mattered more than the secret he’d kept.
“Mark,” you said quietly after a beat, the disbelief still sitting all over your face, “you really are ridiculous.”
“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your eyes flicked down to his mouth, then back up again before you could stop yourself. His grip on you shifted just slightly, careful and steady, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to.
You didn’t pull away, if anything, your grip on him tightened just a little. Your nose brushed against his, causing his breath to hitch slightly at the sudden closeness. Mark’s eyes fluttered shut as your lips met, a sigh escaping him as he kissed you back.
His tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip, seeking entry as he pressed himself closer to you—as close as possible, just short of actually being skin to skin. He was determined to make this moment last, savouring every second of the closeness between you.
When you finally pulled back, it wasn’t by much. Your foreheads almost brushed, your breath still mingling between you. Mark looked at you like he had just been given something he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved.
“Are we okay?” he asked quietly.
“We’re… getting there,” you said.
Relief softened his expression immediately, something lighter breaking through the tension he’d been holding onto all week.
“Okay,” he breathed.
There was another small pause. Then, very gently, he shifted his hold on you, glancing down toward the ground below before looking back at you again, something a little more familiar—something a little more Mark—creeping back into his expression.
“…So,” he started, just slightly hesitant, “this might not be the best follow-up to a life-changing revelation, but—”
Just Us Two: Damian loves intruding on your and Jason's alone time.
Third time's The Charm: The two times Jason almost told you he liked you, and the one time he finally did.
Baby Came Home: After you lose your powers while trying to take down a partnership between Lex Luthor and Penguin, Jason and you confront your deepest fear — being each other's second choice. When the rest of the batboys lock you in the Batcave, though, the confession becomes inevitable.
How Can We Go Back to Being Friends: You hook up with your best friend, and now you don’t know how to act around each other.
Damian, You Are So Psyched: Damian came home from school yesterday acting off, so now it's your goal to cheer up the distant little boy.
Don’t Judge a Book by Its Leather Jacket: Jason has been telling himself he's visiting the little coffee shop at the end of the block for its cheap coffee, but it's his only way to see the cute barista every day and quote "Pride and Prejudice" at her until she falls for him.
Don't Judge a Book by Its Leather Jacket (sequel)
Not what you think: Jason went snooping and thinks you're cheating on him. Good luck explaining yourself!
A shear disaster: Your boyfriend is acting suspicious and won't take off his helmet.
Guilty pleasures: You cheat on your boyfriend, Jason, with the Red Hood.
Unexpected Guests: Damian finds out you're dating Jason.
Rough Night: Your secret relationship with Jason is accidentally revealed the morning after a rough night.
The Babysitter: After being hired to babysit Damian Wayne, you end up putting a masked intruder in a chokehold, only to realize you’ve just tackled his older brother, Jason Todd.
Making an Ass of U & Me: Jason didn’t mean to keep your existence secret from his family. At first, it was for his and your own protection more than anything; his double life wasn’t just for any average person after all. But, even after the whole marriage and settling down thing, he may have just forgotten to mention it.
Careless Accidents: You get hurt, and Jason’s pissed.
So This is Love: You show each other what love is supposed to be like (4 in 1)
The Gift of Truth: After figuring out that your boyfriend is Red Hood, you struggle to figure out a way to tell him you are aware of his “nightly activities.” When Jason finally introduces you to his family a week before Christmas, you are presented with the perfect opportunity to tell him
Pride & Prejudice: When you first meet Jason Todd, he seems to be nothing more than an entitled asshole, but as the seasons change, you begin to realise maybe you were wrong about him.
Good With Kids: You never really had an opinion on your colleague Red Hood, that is until you walk into him interacting with some kids.
The Investigator: The Batfamily discovers Jason's been hiding a long-distance relationship with someone who might be even more terrifying than Batman himself.
Are You Dating My Teacher: Bruce decides to cash in a favor that Jason owed him, and now the Red Hood- the most ruthless vigilante of Gotham- is chaperoning his youngest brother’s field trip to the zoo.
Who Do You Love: You're hopelessly in love with your classmate, Jason Todd. And you just so happen to be quite good friends with Red Hood. drunk one night, you admit you have feelings for Jason to your vigilante friend, not knowing the man behind the mask is the man you're in love with.
When She Sees Me: Your best friend Dick Grayson took you to one of Bruce's galas a while ago. When Dick finds out his brother has a crush on you, he decides to play Cupid.
Blah Blah Blah: Jason is angry after watching Wuthering Heights. You are horny watching him get angry.
Cover Blown: You and Jason cannot stand one another. Unfortunately. you both go undercover as a married couple, and that should'nt change things between you two... right?
La Vie en Rose: The four times Jason wildly preferred you over everyone else.
Random blurbs
Old habits
Revealing Secrets
I'm still right though
Jason accidentally reveals he has a soon-to-be fiancée
Interrupted Dates
First Time
Dick Grayson
Sweater Weather: Dick just wanted to have lunch with his best friend, but he didn't expect you to show up in some other guy's sweatshirt.
The Light Behind Your Eyes: A week spent at Dick’s apartment leads Damian to discover what unconditional love looks like.
Hard to Impress: Dick Grayson can't seem to make you swoon, no matter how hard he tries, until he finally does
The "She's With Me" Is The New Gaelic Shrug (sequel)
Easy lovers: After a series of dates, dick finds himself desperate and decides that tonight will not end until he gets to walk home with a kiss from you.
Miraculous partners: Basically, a "Miraculous Ladybug" plot between you and Dick.
Territory, Marked: Damian makes an unexpected friend at the dog park, and when his older brother tags along one day, he takes a little too much interest.
Dinner Was Not Served: Dick had one goal: to seduce his girlfriend. He forgot the part where he should check for unwanted guests first and narrates his plans in very, vivid detail.
Stakeout at Table Nine: Dick Grayson just wanted a normal date. No suits. No masks. Definitely no Batkid stakeout at a fancy restaurant. Too bad his siblings brought disguises, drama, and a front-row seat to his love life.
Lightning Strikes Twice: Nightwing accidentally develops feelings for the anxious woman whose rescue has become part of his regular nightly routine by this point.
Whatever You Say Teach: Damian gets in a fight at school, and his favorite teacher has to set up a meeting with a parent or guardian. Bruce Wayne is away on a mission and Alfred isn’t picking up the phone, so Damian’s eldest brother has to attend a parent teacher conference. Only to find out that he has history with his little brother’s English Lit teacher.
Random blurbs
Take him back, please!
Revealing Secrets
Interrupted Dates
Damian Wayne
Near: He hates contact, except apparently when it’s you he’s inching toward.
Nepo Vigilante: After your parents die, you inherit their legacy as vigilantes, reluctantly stepping into a life you never asked for. Bruce takes you in to honor a promise to them, pairing you with Damian, whose cruelty and perfectionism push you to your limits, until one day, fed up, you choose to train with Tim instead, sparking Damian’s outrage.
When The Spite Dies: You were expected to quit after Damian Wayne’s first vicious insult, but fueled by spite, you stayed— only to end up hopelessly attracted to the despicable man and vice versa.
When The Spite is Desire (sequel)
The Heart Remembers: Damian's short-term amnesia from a concussion causes complications when he refuses to believe the break-up ever happened—and his missing memories dissolves all defenses and unravels the true depths of his undying devotion for you.
Random Blurbs
Interrupted Dates
Damian Wayne and Reader Get Domestic
Tim Drake
If I Was Your Boyfriend: Tim Drake had his eyes on you from the very first week of the semester. So now he’s praying for your (ex) boyfriend’s downfall, because God forbid a man openly plots to have you for himself instead.
Dairy Queen Closes in 10 Minutes: You broke up with Tim a year ago. Too bad he still thinks of you as his. Too bad everything he does reminds you that you are.
Random Blurbs
Interrupted Dates
Bruce Wayne
The Wrong Man’s Wife: The Justice League members think Batman is in love with Bruce Wayne's wife.
Like Real People Do: Bruce's wife goes missing, and the media and family are both in shambles. Bruce grows colder as the family tries their best to find her. To try and cheer him up, they find old video diaries from the couple’s early dating lives and witness a new side of Bruce.
The Watchtower's Worst Kept Secret: The Justice League suspects something is happening between Batman and Bruce Wayne's wife.
Seven Smacks: Bruce Wayne was a stubborn and fiercely independent man, which meant that his children were too. Unfortunately for you, that meant that scolding one of them was practically a moment to scold both.
ᰔ₊ ⊹ for the entire time you’ve known your loser!bf ness, you’ve never seen him get so jealous until now?
you'd only been 'officially' dating for a few months now. your lover is a quiet and calm person; someone who is so cute and caring. he's attentive to you and occasionally plans out your dates meticulously so that everything is perfect for his 'lovely girl'. sex with him was so gentle and great. if you wanted him to be rougher, he'd do it (even if he didn’t manhandle you like you wanted sometimes…he was just too nice).
if you wanted it to be vanilla, then he'd do it too. he was perfect!
alexis didn't have much of a temper either, but communicated his feelings to you if he had any concerns. however, you couldn't help but notice a shift in his demeanor.
initially, you assumed it was because of his new t.a. position for 'intro to european literature' that stressed him out. at your university, it was a rather difficult class and he was sure to be bombarded with emails.
but then, you noted how, ever since kaiser began interacting with you, that he's been... rather aggressive. not towards you—god no—but towards kaiser.
michael kaiser was a fucking asshole—he ran through people like they were cigarettes and yet, of course, he had to find out about the girlfriend of his 'best friend'. kaiser barely found out you two were official a few weeks ago, it was like a flip switched. he went from being indifferent to you, to acting like you were a new conquest of his that he wanted to take to his bed.
for the new semester, you happened to have intro to behavioral economics with both kaiser and your boyfriend—and of course, you sat between them. he was flirtatious as hell, anyone could see it. and it was clear he was trying to push your boyfriend's buttons.
"such a pretty blouse you have on, n/n... your boyfriend got it for you?" he'd say it in a tone that mocked and mimicked ness' usual gentle cadence and soft pronunciation of syllables. only thing was? they were laced with malice. it was like you were caught in between crossfire. especially today.
"mm, it was a gift for my lovely girl. why, kaiser? plan to get it for whatever girl of the week you have?"
kaiser laughed almost bitterly. lecture was over, and the three of you were packing up to leave when this was happening. throughout the long speech your professor was giving about his dissertation relating to today's topic, kaiser was playing with your hair, complimenting your perfume, even analyzing your manicure (that happened to have your boyfriend's initial on the ring finger).
"well, you usually have such great taste, alexis. but the color seems to wash her out, no?" (he was lying through his teeth—ness RESEARCHED what colors fit your skin tone and undertone).
"ahh, well... she seemed to have no complaints about it when i received my thanks this morning... my baby can be quite thankful." alexis’ jaw clenched and he narrowed his eyes at kaiser. a smug smile settled on your boyfriend’s face and he lifted his pierced eyebrow.
and then, the michael kaiser, who's expression was always smug and 'all-knowing' shifted to one of disgust, amusement, and shock.
who knew that your loser!bf ness, could be such a damn pervert—and a jealous one at that. clearly not michael. he looked at you with his eyes narrowed, then at ness, nodded hesitantly, and left with the tips of his ears flushed red.
then, it was like all his confidence disappeared and he looked at you with a look of horror, his cheeks becoming flushed, and his glasses fogging up. “baby, i’m so sorry—! he wouldn’t shut the fuck up and i—!”
you smiled at him, kissing his cheek and leaving a shimmery pink mark in its wake. “it’s okay, lex. i would have done the same thing.”
"but my…i didn't know you could get so jealous, baby..."
he gulped, looking down at your matching chucks with pink and purple beads on your laces and your favorite colored beads on his. he was embarrassed. very…
“wanna make it up to me?”
ness slowly looked up, playing with his snake bite piercing and was going to nod until you spoke again.
“or i can always ask mihya?” and it was like you unleaded a monster.
you took him to your apartment like any other day—and let him do whatever he wanted. the idea of him being so angry…so jealous…turned you on.
the edges of your lips curved to a smile, eyes locked on how utterly pathetic alexis appeared before you, hickies blossoming on the pale of his neck and smeared lipgloss on his lips and cheeks. the two of you were stripped down to nothing, and after fucking you on the couch, your bed, and the island counter of your kitchen, he’s now bending you over the bathroom sink.
you really shouldn’t have underestimated him…he can be quite the pervert…and quite the slut.
he licked a stripe on your neck, arms wrapped around your tummy and slamming you onto his cock with a loud thwop! “you sure threatening to ask mihya was a good call? mihya, my ass.”
“what a fucking tease you are, n/n…fuck…yet such a damn slut for my cock.”
you shrugged your shoulder instinctively, feeling his tongue piercing on your flushed skin and letting eye contact in the mirror, already fogging up. his glasses were off, abandoned a long time ago and strands of his dyed hair were sticking to his forehead.
your back was pressed against his hard chest and your ass slammed against his firm thighs while his weeping cock bullied your cervix so damn good.
“lex, baby, i love youuuu and your fucking—god— cock-!” you slurred as if you inebriated from his dick, hiccuping from your crying as you squirted for the nth time on his cock. “i’m only yours, lexy, all yours.”
his cock twitched and balls tensed against you, with your boyfriend letting out a damn whimper as he spilled inside you. he held you, lashes fluttering as he looked at the mirror and saw you sobbing.
ness’ breath hitched, turning you around and lifting you to sit on the sink. he wiped your tears with a napkin and you could tell how his own eyes began to water and his voice began to tremble. “baby, i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to make you cry—i’m so sorry i must be the biggest asshole in the world, i—”
you smiled, leaning to kiss him on the cheek. “y’know…i really do need to make you more jealous often. you were so rough—it was the best thing ever.”
he pouted, flushed again and looking away. “please don’t do that. i feel bad…”
.
.
.
tysm for the love on loser!ness <33 i love writing for ness, he's my literal baby and my favorite character (yeah, it's not bunny as much as i write for him. i'm just a pushover who can't say no to requests when i have time). sorry if this is a tad rushed—i wanna post a bit before focusing on school ! again this is so funny bc i know sm people named alexis so LMAO
he just can’t take a hint! you’re hopelessly in love with him, yet he’s too hung up on soccer and michael kaiser.
oh, god, don’t even mention michael. world’s best striker? more like world’s biggest jerk!
he caught on that you liked alexis pretty early on. and whenever you’re—unfortunately—alone together, he teases you about it.
back to alexis, though. who even cares about that blue-haired rat…
you drop hints back and forth, he’s almost too dense to be cute. almost.
you hold eye contact a little longer with him. that’s surely a sign!
you search for him first in any room. that’s surely a sign!
you stand and walk beside him at any given chance. surely that’s a sign.
you tell your friends all about him; his little v-shaped smile, the way his eyes light up animatedly, the way he laughs, his shy demeanor but confidence when he’s passionate…
what’s not to love about him?
and he’s so gentle. he’s polite; the nicest a boy has ever been. he hovers his hand over the small of your back in crowded spaces, asking you through a whisper beside your ear, “is this okay?”, before he guides you around.
he holds your hand sometimes, keeping it nice and simple. palm on palm, your fingers resting on the back of his hand.
it’d be so intimate to interlace your fingers with him…
very, very rarely, when things are rough and he can tell you’re upset—he always does, but often chooses to protect your self preservation, thus often doesn’t point it out—, he moves your hair out of your face, holds you close and presses a tender kiss to your forehead.
oh, but that’s just what friends do, it seems.
if only this stupid boy knew just how much of a fool he is. just how much of a fool in love, you are.
on the flipside, though, michael kaiser swears that alexis never shuts the fuck up. the boy’s delusional, for sure.
on and on about how you’re surely dropping hints.
like, you don’t hold eye contact with anyone. but you maintain it with him, and for long periods, at that. that’s surely a sign!
you find him first in any room, that’s surely a sign!
you stand and walk beside him, like, always. surely that’s a sign.
and you’re so perfect. what’s not to like about you?
your charming smile, your entrancing laugh, your eyes that shine with every grin… you’ve got him enamoured!
if only silly you knew just how much of a fool you are. just how much of a fool in love, he is.
“nngh—please, so good—’s so good..” ness babbled, drool foaming on the corners of his mouth. his fingers tangled in your hair tight enough to sting.
you rolled your eyes back to look up at him, the sight was so lewd to him. your cheeks suctioned around his cock stuffed to the brim in your mouth, a mixture of your spit and his pre covering your lips.
he grabbed onto your head with both hands, stuffing your face into his crotch. your nose buried into the faint dusting of hair on his pelvis, scented of something uniquely him.
his thighs locked around your head, crossing at the knees and holding you captive. “im sorry—’m sorry, sorr—” ness sputtered apologies but he didn’t mean any of it. he threw his head back, sweat slicking up every plane of his body.
the firm flesh of his thighs wrapped around your neck, choking you. you gagged and gargled around his cock, eyes locked onto his own teary ones.
“so pretty—y’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth..” he whispered, sniffling now. broken sons escaped his lips everytime your throat tightened around his dick. it made him tighten the press of his thighs around your neck, and the grip on your hair.
your nails dug into the flesh of his thighs, scratching red and raw marks into the porcelain skin. he hissed in more pleasure than pain, hips bucking into your face. “shiit...mark me, jus’ like that..”
he loved the pain, loved watching the way you choke and garble around his pistoning length from loss of oxygen. his back arches off the bed as his orgasm comes crashing down on him, he buries his cock far inside your throat, thighs tightening impossibly around your head.
“c-cumming! swallow it all, please lovely...” he whined and gasped mindlessly, spurting thick, creamy ropes down your throat down your oesophagus, some of it spilling around your mouth.
he finally let you go, bundling you up in his arms immediately. “..i’m sorry..i didn’t hurt you too much did i?” he pressed his lips into a puppy pout, pressing his forehead to yours.
his hand trailed down to run over the fresh scratches on his thigh lovingly. “you marked me up, guess that means we’re equal now huh?” he flushed beet red, chuckling softly.
“i love you so much.” he peppered tender kisses to your face, “still, sorry..kind of went a bit too far there..” he held you close to him, but the way his cock, twitched to life and poked your inner thigh told you, he didn’t feel sorry at all..
a/n: my lovely mootie ani wanted me to make a drabble over our lovely comment discourse over ness and his delicious thighs (i feel like a perv) i hope u like it ani smooch
2025-2026 — @reositos ★ don’t copy/modify/translate/repost to other sites. also don’t feed my work to ai.
he acts all tough, but when he's alone, he's rereading old texts, staring at pictures, or absentmindedly tracing over something you left behind—like your handwriting on a sticky note or a hoodie you forgot at his place (everything reminds him of you)
he has the worst habit of staying up at night (insomnia lol), thinking about you. maybe he should call? maybe he should just show up? would that be too much? (he does it anyway)
jason plays it cool, but the moment his you initiate any sort of physical contact—holding his hand, running fingers through his hair—he practically melts (not that he’d ever admit it)
when he's away from you for too long, he catches himself glaring at couples holding hands on the street, muttering about how "some people just love to rub it in, huh?" (he just misses you)
when he’s out on patrol, beating up criminals, the second he hears a notification going off on his phone, he's checking to see if it's you (if it’s not, he sighs and aggressively shoves his phone back into his pocket)
he alway finds excuses just to see you- "oh, i was just in the neighborhood.” (he wasn't) “you left something at my place.” (you didn’t) “i thought you called me" (lies.)
sometimes he just stares off dramatically, thinking about you. roy has caught him sighing at the moon once (it was humiliating)
if you fall asleep around him, that’s when he lets his guard down. ge’ll brush ypur hair out of your face, press the lightest kiss to your forehead, and whisper things he’d never say when you're awake (cause how can he when everytime he looks at you, you take his words away?)
jason todd is a yearner.
enjoy this while i work on the others hngh <3 trying a new style this time
it’s warm and comforting laying in jason’s room while you’re seated on his lap like a throne.
he’s got luna by the smashing pumpkins playing on his stereo and his back flush against his bed. deep red painting the walls along with his dark mahogany furniture. posters on the walls of his favourite bands and their albums. the soft hum of the music accompanied by his sounds, his tiny groans and those small bucks of his hips.
he wants you to feel like this is your home too. he wants you to know what’s his is yours and he was entirely that.
you’re straddling his legs, not bare, but enough to feel him through his sweatpants. slowly grinding back and forth over the hardening bulge while his heavy palm held you close. the other hand cradling a joint that filled your lungs as much as his. jason takes a long drag and leans forward to breath into you. you close the distance and steal his breath, kissing him hard while you sucked the smoke from his lungs.
jason groans lowly at the sensation, the high dragging him dangerously close while you slowly continued your teasing movements. beneath the seams, a dangerous pressure built and you smiled against his lips.
“so good baby,” he sighs and gasps as you pull back to watch his face contort at how hard you were seated, “you’re so pretty.”
cooing at him, dragging your hips back and forth, you smile through the haze, “feel good jay?”
before he can answer, you spot his hand lazily on the side of him, th joint still burning like he’d forgotten about it. an idea forms in you mind and you bring his hand backup to his lips.
“go on,” smiling innocently as he takes another gulp of intoxicating air.
the sweet, earthy scent engulfing the space as his eyes bore into yours, hazy and low. as he exhales, you put a hand to his chest to move a little quicker. he’s sputtering at the pleasure building inside him and nearly crumbles beneath you. and you can see it happening. can feel him getting closer and closer. so you tease harder. leaning over and licking a stripe up his jaw and leaving tender kisses on the sides of his face.
his lips part and he pants frantically, fingers gripping tight as he moves in tandem with your movements, “oh fuck—shit, i’m gonna cum— ah.”
all this does is spur you on, grinding harder again him as you watch him though your half lidded eyes. “do it jay,” you encourage, “let go for me.”
jason is sure he’s never wanted anything more. he knows he’s just lost all credibility with himself and his history with women. he cums hard, head lolling back as he moans your name. repeater rope, confided within his sweatpants and seeping right through. the warm cloth is almost like a reward for your efforts as you kiss him again, tasting everything that was uniquely him and swallowing it down. he collapses into the mattress further, whimpering as you keep dragging him through it, slowing your hips but not stopping, not yet.
boneless beneath you like a fucked out mess, he laughs incredulously. pulling you down for another sweet kiss, letting you feel the thin layer of sweat that’s on his skin.
he stops your movements and groans your name again, struggling to catch his breath.
“that was insane.” jason pants, “i feel like jelly.”
you smile at him and peck his lips once again, “now you know how i feel.”
a/n: not proofread (no one is surprised). mini smut as part of safety net au until i finish it heh.
𝜗ৎ tags/tw: fluff fluff fluff!! sliiiightly sugestive, lover boy jason todd, not proofread, established relationship
ও˖ ࣪⊹ pairing: jason todd x f!reader
𝜗ৎ a/n: im sorry for being kind of inactive lately, ive been sick lately and overall not feeling that good so i took the chance to pick up on some books i wanted to read (and ive also spent lots of time playing the witcher 3 lol, im even thinking of writing something about geralt in the future). hope u enjoy!!<3 oh and the wc for this fic was 2222k which i thought was perfect
─ ⊹ ‧₊ Series mlist
Jason would categorise his life as unusual. Not many people could say they died and came back to life, even fewer could say they turned their life around after being given a second chance. Between all the hatred and revenge plans, he managed to find something more precious to him than his own life. You. Even when he didn't believe in himself, you did. Even when he pushed you away, you didn't point your finger. Even when he felt unlovable, you loved him. Jason got better because of you. Sure, when the two of you met he wasn't out to kill Batman anymore, buuuut their relationship was civil at best.
You're the reason he could attend family dinners, and go on missions, and debrief with Bruce without feeling the tension lingering in the air. But today you were actually the reason he left the house to patrol with Bruce!! And why he was so nervous too.
“Good work today, Jay.” Bruce was leaning against the batcomputer with his arms crossed and a warm smile across his face.
“Yeah–” His voice broke in a high pitched sound and Bruce looked at him with slight concern. “It was awesome. Cool patrol. We should totally repeat it.”
They both stayed silent for a few seconds while Bruce looked at Jason with narrowed eyes. “Jay, are you okay?”
“What? ‘Course I'm fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine? I'm fine. Totally fine. Aren't you?” He was rocking on his heels while trying to avoid eye contact. Bruce just raised a singular brow that told him to stop bullshiting, so reluctantly, Jason sighed.
“I need to talk to you.”
The sigh that left Bruce could have easily come from a small petulant child, and the way he rolled his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose did not help. “Jason, you don't even live here, what have you managed to break this time?”
“What? When have I ever broken anything here?”
“Should we ask Alfred?”
Jason put up his hands in mock surrender. “No! No, we don't. And I didn’t break anything.” He sighed deeply and scratched the back of his neck. “Have you ever given Selina a ring?”
A smirk took over Bruce's face and he looked to be reminiscing. “Of course I have. Although she sometimes gets ahead of herself so I don't have the opportunity to give them myself before she has already snatched them away.”
“I see… And how did you know they were going to fit her fingers?”
He shrugged. “They're not engagement rings, if it doesn't fit one finger it'll surely fit the other, you just have to gauge the size of her hand. Plus, Selina has so many rings I'm pretty sure she ends up selling them.”
“You're not helping, old man.”
“I think you're just taking this ring shopping too seriously, your girlfriend is a sweetheart, she won't–”
“I'm proposing to her, B.” Bruce's eyes widened and he stayed silent for a while. For a few moments, Jason wondered if maybe he didn't approve. Not like he cared but it would be nice to have his help. and maybe he cared a little bit about Bruce's opinion
Jason was about to start rambling when Bruce took him in a hug. “Oh, I'm so proud of you, bud.”
The hug took him by surprise, and the part of him that craved for Bruce's approval felt warm. It took him a few seconds to return the hug, but when he finally did, he had to keep the tears at bay. Imagine crying because your dad hugged you and told you he was proud. Pffft. “Thank you.” They let go of each other and Jason wiped at his tears while trying and failing to pretend there was just something in his eye. “You're the only one who knows. Well, you and Alfie, but you need to keep it a secret.”
“Of course. Are you sure you don't want to include your brothers?”
“Oh, no. Dick would fold under 0 pressure, Tim has mumbled weird shit that we definitely didn't need to know in his sleep, and Dami spends waay too much time with my girl. I don't think he'd tell her, but I think he would make some things weird and she's smart so she'd figure it out. And the proposal needs to be perfect.”
“Alright, so you need to figure out her ring size right?”
Jason nodded and Bruce sat down at the batcomputer. “Hm. I never really thought about this. You could try measuring her finger while she sleeps?”
“Too risky, she's a light sleeper.”
“Doesn't she have any rings you can use as standarts?”
“No, she can't wear jewellery to work, especially not rings so it's not something she spends money on at all.”
Bruce sighed deeply. “I think we're going to be here a while.”
Plan one: matching rings
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You and Jason were doing your usual shopping trip together, but this time he whisked you away to the jewellery section because he wanted your help picking a gift for Stephanie since he quote unquote needed to bribe her. She knew he was pretending to be sick to spend more time with you, oops.
“Look at these cute rings, baby.”
He proceeded to point at a bunch of silver and gold rings in a bunch of different shapes and sizes, but you felt like they didn't really match Steph's vibe.
“Hm. I don't know, they're cute but they don't really feel like her.”
Jason tried to show he wasn't panicking at all, his excuse to look for jewellery was half assed at best. “Uhh yeah you're right. But hey look!” He pointed at some cute matching rings. “We could buy these for ourselves.”
“I don't wear rings, Jay.”
“I know, but they have a little bat.” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait.” There were Batman, Nightwing, and Robin themed matching rings. There was even a Flash one! “Why are there no Red Hood matching rings?”
“You're not exactly family friendly, babe. Lot's of people still see you as a scary guy.”
He crossed his arms. “I am pretty scary, but so is Batman. And Wally isn't even a hero here.”
You laughed softly while taking his hand and walking away. “C'mon big guy, let's find Steph something that doesn't hurt your feelings.” The plan was to get you to try a ring to see if it'd fit Steph. Now he was probably going to need to buy her something random just so you wouldn't get suspicious.
Plan 1: busted
Ego: hurt
Plan 2: getting drunk
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The smell of your favourite meal wrapped around you as soon as you entered your apartment. After dropping your keys on your key holder, you made your way to the kitchen. “Oh my gosh, Jay, what's this?”
In front of you, the table was set with a red cloth, your favourite dish in the middle with a dark red wine bottle next to it. Some candles were also scattered around, mixed with some flowers. Jason was leaning against one of the chairs, hair messy and a towel draped on his shoulder, the corner of his mouth tilted up. “What? Can't I wine and dine my girl?”
You approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hm, with you looking like that I'm confused as to what my meal is supposed to be.”
Jason's plan: getting you drunk so you'd fall in deep sleep, allowing him to measure your finger without you waking up.
What ended up happening: you two ate dinner and both got drunk, then you were all over each other and at some point his mission became taking you to the bedroom, rings completely forgotten.
Plan 2: also busted (but good outcome!)
Plan 3: comparing hand sizes
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You were reading a book in Jason's chest, completely relaxed, when he started giggling to himself.
“Your hands are so tiny.”
“Scuse me?”
“You heard me. I bet my pinky is the same size as your ring finger.”
Slowly you put your book down before narrowing your eyes at him. “I am normal sized, you're just gigantic.” He laughed earnestly before putting his hand up to compare sizes. Rolling your eyes, you joined your hand and it did look comically small in his. Then, he shifted his pinky to your ring finger and it was actually a bit bigger. why did none of his plans work???
“Oh my god, I actually also thought they'd be the same size.” You were finding this hilarious, but Jason was slowly dying inside. He was being dumb though, he had an approximate size, it was fine! Even if the ring wasn't the perfect size, it'd be near perfect and he knew you'd be overjoyed. He kissed you while you were still giggling.
Mission accomplished!
Finding your perfect ring
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Jason had an idea of what you wanted in a ring since the two of you had talked about getting married before, and you told him exactly what you liked, but he wanted a picture to look for online or to commission to a jeweler. He knew you had a wedding board on pinterest because he saw you saving wedding dresses there, surely you'd saved rings too.
So, he obviously decided to create a pinterest account and search your account (he asked to see your account one time just so he'd see your user)! It didn't take him long to find it, but there was no wedding board. Private. Why would you private that one? There were a bunch of silly ones you left public.
With a sigh, he looked around. You were showering, but since you were tired from your shift, you ended up leaving your phone in the bedroom. He knew your password… Jason didn't want to use your phone without your permission, but fuck it, it was for a good cause.
Quickly, he reached your phone and opened pinterest. You had even more private boards that consisted of silly memes regarding your interests and he found that extremely endearing. It didn't take him long to find that board, you saved a bunch of rings but he chose three that were the most similar to the one you told him you liked. Then he screenshotted them and sent the pictures to himself, after that he deleted all traces of ever being on your phone. Now he just needed to get the ring and prepare.
Ring situation: figured out
The proposal
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
It was a slow day at the hospital. The sun was setting when you got home, and you were ready to just relax while waiting for Jason.
However, when you got home, there were small candles, all in your favourite scent, making a pathway to your living room. You softly closed the door behind you before taking off your shoes.
“Jay?” You called out to no answer. Slowly you started walking in the candle pathway, careful not to accidentally kick one over. When you got to the living room, your couch was slightly pushed so there was more space. That space was now occupied by a circle of small and medium candles, with Jason in the middle, looking super nervous. “Hi, love.”
“Jason…”
Your heart was in your throat. Before you could say anything, Jason took a step forward.
“There was a time where I thought I had all the time in the world, and that love sprouted from every corner. Then, there was a time where I thought love was a fabricated thing, and that I didn't deserve it. I thought coming back to life was a sick mistake, a way to torture me and to remind me every day of my mistakes.” He took a deep breath and you started tearing up. “I grew up reading love stories, but deep down I never believed I'd get to live anything similar. But then… then I met you. At that library. Five beautiful years ago. I was stupid that first year because I should've made you mine from the moment I saw you asleep over a lecture book, but at least we can thank Scarecrow for pushing us together.” You let out a sound between a laugh and a sob, Jason got down on one knee, box in hand, and called out your name.
“Ever since you came into my life, I've been a better man. I wake up every day happy because I am by your side. Any time I'm sad, I just need to remember your smile and the way your beautiful face lights up whenever you laugh.” You were crying hard now. “Darling, light of my life, after everything we've been through, I want to shout at the top of every building in this goddamn city that I am your husband. That you are mine. I want to start a family with you, grow old, have kids and a puppy and a kitten. I want to give you everything you'll ever ask for, and above all I want to wake up every day to your smile. So…” He opened the small box to reveal your dream ring. “Will you do me the honour of marrying you, and make me the happiest man alive?”
You nodded non-stop. “Yes! Oh my god, yes. A thousand times yes.” He exhaled like someone took a rock off his shoulders and slid the ring on your finger…
It fit perfectly.
e/n: yes my flash is wally west, i refuse the ending they gave him in young justice
taglist: @luceaat @jasontood3904000 @annabelleleefrench @celestialend tysm for the support♡
synopsis: you're a sweet recluse who allows her home to be Jason's safe house. What happens when he starts to get too close to you?
The screen door creaks open late one evening. Jason Todd steps inside your little kitchen like it's a habit, almost as though he's lived here all his life. In truth, you'd only known Jason for about two months now since he came stumbling to your doorstep one stormy evening. Things seemed to pass in a blur since then.
Jason's shoulders are tense beneath the fabric of his jacket, bruised from the constant fights he participates in. His jaw is sore and his knuckles are split from punching again. He's already in one of his moods.
He kicks off his boots by the door without looking, the way he always does, listening to the familiar sound of dirty soles thunking against the wood floor. Then, he heads straight to the sink like he's on autopilot, having memorized the layout of your house like it's his own. He doesn't even need to look down to where the fluffy hand towels are as he dries his hands.
There's a plate of dinner waiting on the table that's still hot and steaming, and you're standing near the counter, looking at him like he didn't just come home covered in bruises and blood. You're smiling in the cutesy, innocent way you always do. The way that boils Jason's blood in both a bad, and really good way.
"Hi, Jay," you say, your voice smooth like honey as you look up at him with big, sparkly eyes, like he's just your husband coming home late from work.
Jason swears under his breath and marches through the kitchen, hovering around you for a moment, before muttering a gruff "Hello." in return, slumping down into his usual seat at the dinner table, looking down at tonight's meal.
The plate's got roast chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and a pile of vegetables on the side. It's very balanced. It looks like food you'd see in a magazine with a recipe underneath. You cooked. Again. Like you do every night.
"Thought you might be hungry," you say, cheeks all pink from the stove's heat, or maybe just from looking at him. You get so bashful when he stares. "You want me to get you a knife or anything else?"
"No. S' fine." he grumbles, picking up a fork to start stabbing at his vegetables. You nod, still smiling all cute as you take out a jug of lemonade for him and pour him a class without asking, setting it down beside his plate, right before leaning down to press the softest, most innocent kiss to his cheek. Right near the cut on his jaw, his sweet spot. "Glad you're home safe."
Jason goes still at the feeling, a little grunt leaving him involuntarily. The second your lips brush over him, it's as though every muscle in his body tenses. His eyes flick to you, but you're already walking away, humming to yourself like you didn't screw him over with that little gesture.
What the hell are you doing, letting a guy like him into your house? Letting him sleep in the extra bedroom you cleaned just for him and eat off your table without asking for compensation? What kind of sweet, naive girl lets a man with knives and guns in his duffel bag and scars up his back and shoulders stay in her house like he's not dangerous?
"You shouldn't do that," he grumbles as you have your back turned to him, a deep scowl on his face. You blink, turning back toward him, confusion soft in your eyes. "Do what?"
"You know what I mean. The kissin'. The..." his voice gets tight, jaw ticking, "...the 'Jay' with your little giggle. Don't."
"Don't act like we're friends?' you ask, so innocently, head tilted in a way that makes him want to pounce on you. "We are friends."
Jason clenches his jaw. His fingers curl around the fork, knuckles white. "You should be more wary, is all" he mutters, frowning as you respond with a little huff and a playful eye roll, going over to check on the pies you made for dessert that are cooling on a rack.
He stares at the curves of your body, gaze panning from your hips, down to your thighs, and back up to your ass, plump in the cute little nightgown you're wearing, with the hem riding up your thighs enough to show your panties if you bent over. He can't take his eyes off of you, not for a second. He's looking at you to figure out how someone like you could possibly be real, let alone a part of his life. You feed him. You made him a safe house with gingham curtains and a soft bed and dinner waiting on the table every night without fail.
He's coiled so tight it feels like his skin doesn't fit right, seeing you flutter around the kitchen like everything's fine, apron tied snugly around your waist. You turn and meet his gaze again as he continues.
"Why aren't you scared of me?" Jason mutters all gruff, pushing back his chair and standing. His eyes are all dark and stormy. "You let a guy like me in your house. You give me food, a bed, clothes. You let me walk around your kitchen like I belong here." He steps forward slowly. "You don't even lock your fucking door."
Your throat bobs as you swallow, but your expression doesn't change. That soft, quiet sweetness still on your face like you've never even heard a threat before.
"I don't have to lock it because the only person who comes around here is you, and I know you."
Jason's frown deepens, and he crowds your space, hissing at you coldly. "You don't know shit about me." He stares down at you, jaw clenched, breathing through his nose. He keeps coming closer and closer to you, all while you don't even realize what you're doing to him, standing there in your cozy little kitchen, smelling like a dessert.
His body pushes you back into the counter, his jaw is clenched and lips twisted in a snarl. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, his voice rising. "You let me in here. You open your house up to someone like me and think I'm not gonna hurt you? You think I'm just gonna be your lil' prince charming?"
He shoves his hand against the counter beside you, trapping you in place. His face is inches from yours, but this time, you don't see the same tired, frustrated guy you've been taking care of. This time, all you see is the threat, the dangerous man who doesn't think you should have trusted him at all.
"I could strangle you, you know," he says all soft. His hand shoots out, quick and brutal, grabbing your neck just below your chin. "You think I wouldn't do it? You think I wouldn't snap your neck like a twig if I wanted to?"
Your pulse spikes. His grip isn't tight enough to suffocate you, just enough to make your heart pound harder. "Or what if I wanted to cut you?" His thumb presses into the side of your neck. he's learned you can make someone pass out if you push there hard and long enough. wouldn't take long if he did it to you, though. another reminder of how fragile you really are. "What if I wanted to steal everything in your house and leave you with nothing?"
You look up at him, whimpering softly at the feeling of his huge hand wrapping around your throat. Your smaller one grabs at his wrist, staring up at him with big, glassy eyes. "J-jason..."
"What if I wanted to tear off one of those flimsy lil' dresses you wear around me and fuck you?" He lets out a low mumble, tipping your head up and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. "You think they're cute, huh? You think I don't notice the way you dress like 'm not gonna want to tear you apart?"
Your breath hitches, and for a second, you can't find your words. He's crowding you now, pinning you to the counter so you have no way out. His thumb pushes harder on your lower lip.
You stare at him, your face flushed. Your chest is rising fast now, like you're trying to keep calm, like your body's betraying you even if your voice hasn't cracked yet. You're not saying anything, but your fear's loud enough without words.
Jason's still holding onto your throat, the heel of his hand digging into your pressure point while his thumb smushes against your soft lips. His chest heaves with each breath, his face twisted up even though deep down, he's thoroughly enjoying himself. He relishes in the slight tremble your body gives and the way you look up at him like you're starting to realize he's not savable.
He leans down to your level. "You scared now, sweetheart?" he mutters. You try to speak, but it catches in your throat. He can feel it under his hand, that flutter in your pulse. "Yeah," he breathes. "That's what I thought."
He tilts his head, leaning down to slot his mouth over your cheek, mocking the little kisses you always give him when he's home. He moans against your skin, starting to press sloppy kisses down to your jaw. He's done holding back, finally indulging in the terrible, heinous thoughts he's had about you since you let him into your home.
His hands roam under your dress, hiking it up to squeeze the globes of your ass, all while you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut.
He kisses up the side of your throat and up to your ear, huffing low so you hear every bit of how hot he is for you. "Lemme show you what bad men do to pretty girls who play house with 'em."
his hands move again. they don't stay in place for long. he's very unpredictable. one moves back to grip on your throat, while the other hand drags up the back of your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your nightgown until his rough fingers find bare skin. his breathing is ragged now, lips pressed to the curve of your neck like he's trying to inhale you.
"You smell s'sweet," he growls, nose brushing the soft skin beneath your jaw. "Always smell so fuckin' sweet."
He's spreading you apart before your brain can comprehend it, lifting you up with his free hand to guide you up onto the counter, manhandling you like you weigh nothing. Slotting his body between your legs, he looks down at your pretty cotton panties. Just as adorable as you, all lacy and pastel like you didn't have a clue what they'd do to him.
Jason huffs a breath through his nose, low and unsteady, staring at the soaked little patch in the middle. "Fuck," he mutters, dragging his thumb over the wet spot slowly and teasingly. "Look at this. You want me like this." His hand grips your thigh to keep you open, his gaze locked on your panties as he takes two fingers and pushes them up against your panties so he can trace your plump little pussy through the fabric, firm enough to make you twitch.
You jolt, grabbing onto his shoulder while your tummy flips. "Mmh... i-its good... b-but 'm sensitive..." you warn softly, trying to fight against his grip ever so slightly, but he keeps you spread for him with his firm hand. Your breath catches when he starts tugging your panties to the side, baring the warm air of the kitchen onto your even warmer hole.
His hand grips your hip, anchoring you in place while he teases your entrance with the pads of his fingers, just barely pressing in. You let out a strangled little sound, back arching as he slowly presses a finger inside you with a low groan. Your body clenches around him and it makes him twitch, a guttural sound leaving his chest. "Fuck, you're tight," he mutters, nose nuzzling yours. "So fuckin' warm. This pussy's been waiting for me, hasn't she?" You nod helplessly, eyes wide, lips parted as he pumps his finger inside you slow and filthy. He watches you fall apart for him, cheeks flushed and pretty little moans leaving your mouth with every curl of his finger.
His thick digit curls just right inside you, slow and deep, while his thumb rubs circles around your clit, not too quick, just firm and steady like he's testing how fast he can get you to fall apart. You whimper again, your hips rolling into his hand without thinking.
He watches the little faces you make while you're in heat like this, as well as the way your body reacts to his touch. His eyes are locked on the place where his finger disappears inside you with that delicious squelch, and once you're relaxed, he slides in a second to fill you up even more. You jerk, nightgown bunching up more at your waist as he shoves his fingers deep inside you, wanting to see how tight you can squeeze around them.
"Damn," he mumbles, "You're squeezin' the fuck outta me." His free hand grabs your thigh harder when you flinch back, nails digging just a little into your flesh to keep you still and wide open for him. He leans in, breathing heavy against your cheek as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit while his fingers keep stroking inside you, that slow, steady rhythm that's driving you crazy because it's just enough to have you trembling, but not enough to tip you over.
You whine out a soft "Jay," all desperate and teary eyed, your grip on his shoulders tightening as your legs start to shake. You don't even realize you're grinding down onto his hand until he growls, "Yeah… that's it. Use your words. You need it that bad, don't you?"
He keeps his face close to yours, eyes flicking between your mouth and your eyes, watching how dazed you look already, lips all swollen and wet from how much you've been panting. "Feels 's good! M-more..." You whine, your body starting to move on its own, hips rolling into his hand, trying to chase the pressure that's curling in your gut.
Jason doesn't let up. He just keeps fucking you with his fingers, deep and slow, his thumb pressed firm to your clit, working you in tight little circles until your legs are twitching and your mouth is open like you're gasping for air.
"You're already gonna cum, huh?" he murmurs, voice low and thick. "Already cryin' on my fingers like a needy little thing." You nod, head falling back against the cabinet behind you, your breath coming in short, desperate little bursts. " 'M gonna...Jay, I...I'm gonna..."
"Come, then," he orders, eyes locked on yours. "Cum on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how sweet this fuckin' pussy is."
You shatter around him body locking up tight before it all melts down at once, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you can't even stay upright without holding onto him. Your whole body trembles and he watches it all, jaw clenched, eyes dark and blown wide with how fucked he is for you.
He keeps his fingers inside you even after, not pulling out until you're twitching too much to take it, and even then, he pulls back slow, glancing down at the mess he made of you. He brings his fingers to his mouth without even thinking, licking them clean while he keeps his eyes on your face.
Then he leans in, mumbling in your ear. "You made a mess on my hand,"
Jason's gaze drops down to the tent in his jeans, thick and straining against the zipper, and he lets out a breath that sounds more like a growl.
"Take my cock out," he says roughly, eyes never leaving yours. Your fingers tremble a little as they reach for his belt, heart hammering in your chest while you work it loose, the clink of the buckle loud in the quiet kitchen. Jason's eyes are burning into your face the whole time, watching the way you fumble a little, the way your lips part and your breathing gets uneven while you tug his belt free, then pop open the button on his jeans.
You slide the zipper down slow, hands shaking just the tiniest bit, but you don't stop.
He helps you just enough to shove his jeans down his hips, groaning softly when you reach into his briefs and wrap your fingers around him. He's thick and hot and already leaking against your palm, and the second you touch him, his whole body stiffens.
"Jesus," he mumbles, chest rising and falling hard. You glance up at him through your lashes, a little dazed and shy, but your hand stays wrapped around him as you stroke him once, then twice, making his head fall forward, forehead bumping into yours while he groans.
He looks into your eyes, his voice all rough and shaking with how close he is to snapping. "You're gonna do it, alright? Not me." he says, jaw clenched. "You're gonna show me how dirty you are, and take me in your hand, and you're gonna line me up with that sweet little pussy like this was your fuckin' idea."
You nod even though you're buzzing and feel your body burning, and he watches you slowly wrap your hand snugly around his cock, his face close to yours as you guide him between your legs.
"Yeah," he mumbles, watching your face. "Just like that." You whimper when the head of his cock bumps against your entrance, slick and warm, and Jason moans low in his throat at the feel of you, the head of him just barely pushing inside.
Your fingers tremble as you line the head of him up with your entrance, glancing up at him as you press him against your folds. "It's so hard," you whisper, all breathless. "Your cock..."
"I know," He responds, watching you continue to guide him, soaked folds parting around the flushed head, barely nudging it in just enough for both of you to feel that first slide. " 's... fuck... c-cause I want you s'bad." He hunches over you a little, mouth hanging open as you finally line him up just right. His tip catches on your soaked entrance and he groans deeply, forehead pressing to yours again like he's trying to stay tethered to something.
He pants, grinding the head against you, not pushing in all the way yet, smearing your wetness all over the flared head of his cock while your thighs twitch around his hips. You make a tiny noise, all high and breathy, and he grins against your cheek. His nose brushes your temple while he shifts his hips just enough for his tip to nudge inside, slow and heavy. "Fuck... there we go, sweetness. 'S suckin me in now."
He grabs your thigh with his free hand, pushing it up until your knee's hooked over his forearm, giving him more room, more access, more of you. He doesn't push all the way in yet, just slides in a few inches, slow and aching, just enough to make your mouth drop open and your nails bite into his shoulders.
"Keep lookin' at me," he hisses. "Don't you dare look away. You let me in, shit... now you're gonna watch what I do to you."
Your eyes flutter open again, all teary and glassy and overwhelmed, and he groans and thrusts in deeper, hips jerking forward like he can't help it anymore, burying himself with a low, breathless curse. Both hands grab your thighs to hold you wide open while his cock sinks alllll the way inside, thick and throbbing inside you.
He sinks in all the way, slow but deliberate, forcing your body to stretch and take every thick inch, and the second he bottoms out, he stays there, buried deep inside you, breathing hard through his nose like he's trying to stay composed, but he's not even close. His hands grip your thighs so tight it makes your skin dimple, holding you still like he's afraid you'll run, like he knows you're not ready for how far he's about to take this.
"Fuck, it's good," he mutters, voice wrecked as he stares down at where you're joined. "Look at that. Fuckin' swallowed me whole, didn't you?" He gives a rough roll of his hips, just enough to make you jerk and gasp under him. "Tight little pussy- already squeezin' like she wants to keep me."
Your head tips back as a choked little moan slips out, your hands clinging to his shoulders now, nails dragging across his back without thinking. He groans, fucking into you harder now, faster. Your body jerks with the impact of his rough thrust, and he moans, loud and low against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bites down like an animal.
He keeps fucking into you with rapid, punishing thrusts, his body bracketed over yours, your legs forced wide apart so he can get deeper. You moan loudly, not bothering to hold back on being responsive. You're slicing into his back with your nails, mewling and panting his name harshly.
He growls at the pleasure pain you give him, rutting into you harder, like the sound of his name like that flipped some switch in him. "Say it again," he pants. "Say my fuckin' name."
You do, a little louder this time, all breathless and shaking. "Jason, mmh! please!"
"Fuck," he bites, his whole body shuddering as he pounds into you now, hips snapping forward again and again. "You're gonna let me ruin you, huh? That what you want, sweet girl? Gonna let me fuck the good right outta you?" You nod, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, not even sure if it's from how good it feels or how deep he's inside you, but it makes him groan, deep and ragged, like he's never seen anything more perfect.
His voice is nothing but a harsh whisper now. "I ever catch you lettin' another man in this house, I swear to god-"
You cut him off with a soft little moan, too blissed out to process the threat, and Jason grunts, cock pulsing inside of you as he scrapes against your gummy inner walls. You let out a loud, high whine, clenching tight around him, and he curses under his breath, leaning forward to kiss you rough and messy, dragging his tongue across your bottom lip.
The taste of you is too much for him, and he groans loudly, grabbing onto the back of your head so he can fully suck your tongue into his mouth and buck into you faster, like a dog in a rut. "Gonna cum f'you," He grunts, tearing out of you suddenly.
You whine at the loss of the full feeling inside your belly. and he grabs onto your plush thighs again, squeezing his throbbing, flushed cock and pumping it a few times before splurting all over your pussy. You pant, heart pounding in your chest.
He cums load after load on you, before dropping onto his knees and stuffing his face into your cunt, needing you to cum for him too. He doesn't want to wait for your sensitivity or that coil to fade away, and so he thrusts his tongue deep inside your sopping hole, eating out your cunt like it's the only dessert he needs.
You scream, ecstasy washing over you so suddenly that you can't even warn him when you cum into his hot mouth, watching him eagerly drink it all up and tongue fucking you through your orgasm.
He groans at your taste once again, unable to get over how sweet you taste. He stands and scoops some of the cum off his thighs and pushes his fingers lightly to your mouth. "Open." He mutters, watching you oblige with a dazed look in your eyes. He feels his cock twitch to life once more at the sight of you tasting him and looking into his eyes like he's just ruined you, which he has. Your hair is a mess and your lips are swollen, and your lower half is soaked with his cum.
"aw." higuruma tuts, tilting his head and grabbing your cheeks in his big hand, squishing your face so it forms a ridiculous pout. "i can feel your heartbeat in your pussy. did you know that?"
"hngh... n-no."
higuruma thrusts forwards slowly, watching the way your hole stretches around him to accommodate more and more of his thick cock the deeper he goes. he finally bottoms out with a soft, wet shlick! sound when his tip presses snugly to your womb. "yes i can." he says softly, staring into your eyes as you scrunch your face and flutter them shut, the sensation of being so full overwhelming you.
you'd only meant to close your eyes for a bit to gather your thoughts. it’s easy to get cockdrunk while higuruma fucks you, and trying to calm down even when he’s fucking you is needed so you don’t get dumb and drooly. however, he gets upset very quickly when part of your pretty expression becomes hidden from him. after all, the best way for him to read you is through those sparkly eyes of yours.
"open your eyes." he says, voice soft but firm. he doesn't pull out or give you any relief from his cock filling you up to your limits and pushing up against every inch inside you, instead leaning over you further to somehow stuff more of himself in you. you'll suffer until you obey him.
"hic-! hiromi, 's too big, jus' give me a sec-" you plead, sending waves of frustration through him. he prides himself on his ability to adapt for you, but you're being a brat at this point, intentionally disobeying him and hiding away. it's the one and only pet peeve he harbors towards you, not looking at him while he pounds your drooly cunt, and yet you manage to continuously do so.
rolling his hips sharply, he grinds his cockhead into your cervix and gives your face another gentle squeeze before trailing his hand down to your throat instead. “open your eyes, my love.” the use of the endearment even while he’s being stern with you has a whimper leaving you involuntarily.
he’s so deep inside you that his heavy balls are squished flush to the curve of your ass, nothing but neat pubic hair visible because all of his cock is sheathed inside you and unmoving. he won’t allow you relief until your eyes open.
you want to plead for a moment of mercy, but you know higuruma won’t accept any defiance from you any longer. you open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. he stares at you with an expression that's soft but unwavering, his hand still lightly wrapped around your throat with his thumb pressing into your pulse point.
"thats it. keep them open for me," he murmurs, starting to pick up the pace again as he thrusts shallowly into your cunt, "i want to see all of you."
your body heats up at the admission and the feeling of being stretched open, and your hips squirm slightly beneath him to try and adjust to his size and how much he's filled you up, but all your desperation and whininess does is spur him on. his grip on your throat tightens slightly as he grinds his hips forward, burying himself even deeper inside you.
his free hand trails along your body, grasping everywhere from your waist, up to your tits as he grabs a mound and kneads it gently in his palm. he moans softly at the way they bounce and move with each deep thrust he delivers into your plush cunt, and he leans down to capture the noises you make as he plays with your nipples. his mouth captures yours in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue rolling over yours in a messy kiss. his grip on your neck allows him to tip your head back so he can sink his tongue deeper into you and taste every part of your sweet mouth as he ruins you.
as you anticipated, the mind fuck hits you due to so many stimulants on your body at once. him pounding into you, holding your throat with one hand, squeezing your breast with the other, and his tongue fucking your mouth with wild abandon. you're close to cumming, and higuruma knows it. he pulls off your mouth with a wet pop, watching, transfixed, as a sheer string of saliva connects your mouths and breaks. he stares, transfixed, at the way your face has contorted in pleasure.
higuruma can feel your pussy starting to tighten, squeezing around him like a velvet vice. "there you go," he says, feeling you milk his cock each time he tries to pull out, squeezing him as if you're trying to keep him inside you. "close already? have i fucked my sweet girl dumb already?"
you nod, then cry out his name as your back arches off the bed, loud moans leaving you as you start to cum around his cock.
feeling your pussy gush around his shaft, higuruma groans loudly and watches your arousal flooding out to coat his length. he doesn't stop his movements, continuing to grind against your spasming walls as your orgasm rolls through you.
the sensation of your pussy clinging to his cock while you cum is almost too intense, but he focuses, determined to prolong your pleasure. he can hardly keep eye contact with you as your eyes roll and glaze over because the face you make as you orgasm usually brings him over the edge too. it's why he loves looking at you, but now it makes him unable to hold back.
as your climax starts to ebb, higuruma feels his own release building. The way your cunt sucks and squeezes his cock, the slick heat engulfing him, it's too much for him anymore. with a final, deep thrust of his hips, he buries himself inside you to the hilt, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he cums inside you.
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the only light in the room was coming from the tv, painting everything in shifting shades of blue and gray. you were curled up in the middle of the bed, buried in a mountain of pillows and your favorite soft duvet, completely lost in your show. or you were, until you felt his presence in the doorway.
jason, your boyfriend, was just standing there, one hand braced against the doorframe like he was holding himself up. he was only in a pair of black basketball shorts, the loose fabric doing a terrible job of hiding how much he was struggling.
he looked… wrecked. his jaw was tight, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, even though the room was cool. his eyes, when they found yours in the dark, were wide and almost pained. it wasn't the usual predatory heat you were used to. this was different. this was desperation.
your eyes automatically flickered down. yeah, there it was. a full-blown tent straining the front of his shorts, so prominent it was almost comical. and right at the tip, a dark, wet circle was spreading through the thin material, his precum already soaking through.
a soft, knowing sigh escaped your lips. you glanced at the calendar app on your phone earlier. you knew you were ovulating. and his body, somehow, always knew before you did. he got like this, completely overwhelmed by some primal, biological urge that made him restless and needy and so, so desperate for you. it wasn’t his usual confident swagger. it was a raw, frantic need that he didn't seem to know how to handle.
you were in your usual comfy, oversized white knitted sweatshirt that fell to your mid-thighs, a tiny pair of black lace thongs you loved, and thick white crew socks pulled up to your calves. you hated wearing pants at home, and jason definitely didn't complain.
he finally spoke, and his voice was rough, strained. "hey."
that was it. just a simple hey.
you paused your show, the silence in the room suddenly feeling heavy. you gave him a soft, gentle smile and patted the edge of the mattress. "hey you. come here, you look like you're about to fall over."
he moved like he was walking through water, his steps heavy as he came around to the side of the bed. he didn't get in, just stood there looking down at you, his whole body tense with a tightly coiled energy.
"i'm sorry," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "i just… it's… fuck. you know."
"i know," you said softly. you shifted, moving from your comfortable nest to the edge of the bed, dropping to your knees on the mattress. you were at the perfect height now. "lemme help, baby."
your hands went to the waistband of his shorts, your fingers brushing the damp spot. he flinched, a full-body shudder, and let out a shaky breath. you slowly pushed the shorts and his boxers down his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles.
he sprung free, thick and flushed and dripping. a long, clear string of precum stretched from the head as you revealed him, his whole body trembling slightly. he smelled like clean soap and pure, unfiltered arousal.
you reached out, wrapping one hand around the base of his shaft. it was hot and solid in your palm. he let out a low groan, his eyes squeezing shut.
"you're okay," you murmured, more to soothe him than anything.
you leaned in, but you didn't take him all at once. you flicked your tongue out, giving the swollen head a few gentle, teasing licks, like a kitten lapping at milk. you tasted the salty sweetness of his precum and hummed, enjoying the flavor of him.
"god," he whimpered, the sound broken and pathetic. his hands came down to grip your shoulders, not to push you away, but to steady himself. "baby, that's… it's too much."
you knew he didn't mean it. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his hazy, unfocused gaze. then you took just the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking gently, swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown. he was whimpering your name now, a mantra of soft, desperate pleas.
he was already so close, a complete mess from just a few touches. you could feel the tension thrumming through his entire body under your hands.
"please," he begged, his voice cracking. "baby, please, i need it."
you gave his hip a reassuring squeeze before taking him fully into your mouth. he gasped, his hips jerking forward as you took him all the way to the back of your throat. your eyes watered a little from the sheer size of him, but you held his gaze as you started to move.
you bobbed your head fast, your hand wrapped firmly around his base, creating a slick, steady rhythm. you didn't let up, wanting to give him the release he was so obviously desperate for. your other hand rested on his hip, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on his skin.
he was completely gone. his head was thrown back, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants. he was just a collection of raw nerves, and you were playing every single one.
"fuck… oh, god, you're so good," he panted out between breaths. "you always know… always know what i need…"
you could feel his pulse hammering against your palm, the muscles in his thighs twitching and jumping. he was getting so close, his hips starting to buck against your mouth, chasing the feeling.
just as you felt the final, tell-tale tightening that meant he was about to lose it, he gently pulled back, his hands cupping your face.
"wait," he rasped, his voice thick with unshed pleasure. "baby, wait. can you… can you take your sweatshirt off? please? i just… i really need to see you."
his request was so vulnerable, so full of raw need, that a fresh wave of affection washed over you. you pulled away from him with a wet pop! sound, leaving him glistening and panting. you sat back on your heels and pulled the heavy sweatshirt up and over your head, tossing it onto the floor.
the cool air hit your bare skin, your nipples instantly tightening into hard pebbles. you didn't wear your bra that you usually wore, so your breasts were free, full and round in the dim blue light.
a sound tore from jason's throat, a noise of pure, unadulterated awe. "perfect," he breathed.
his hand, slick with your spit, wrapped around his cock again. he didnt waste a second. he started pumping his fist, his eyes locked on your chest. his strokes were frantic, desperate.
"gonna cum for you," he grunted, his body tight as a wire. "all over you, baby, just like this… look at you…"
you just watched him, your own breath hitched in your throat. watching him so completely lose himself was one of the hottest things you'd ever seen. he pumped his fist a few more times, a guttural roar ripping out of him as he finally came.
thick, warm ropes of his seed splattered across your chest, your stomach, your collarbones. it was so warm against your skin, a shocking, pleasant heat. he kept going, his hips bucking with the force of his orgasm, coating you in pearly white globs until he was completely empty.
he sagged, his forehead resting on your shoulder, his breathing harsh and ragged. you looked down at the mess he'd made on you. it was obscene. you felt thoroughly cherished.
you thought that would be enough to calm the brewing storm inside him. oh, you were so wrong.
after a minute of just breathing, he pushed himself up. the frantic edge was gone from his eyes, but it was replaced by something deeper, an ache that clearly hadn't been satisfied.
"i'm sorry," he said again, his voice low and serious. "that's not… it's not enough. i need to be inside you, baby. i need to feel you all around me."
before you could answer, he was moving. he surged onto the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. he gently but quickly turned you over onto your stomach. his eyes immediately found the thin black straps of your thong, a flimsy barrier he had no patience for. with a low growl, he hooked his fingers under the delicate lace at your hips and just pulled. there was a sharp, satisfying rip as the fabric gave way. he tore the ruined panties off you, tossing them aside without a second glance. his movements were urgent, clumsy with need.
"ass up for me, baby? please?" he asked, his voice rough next to your ear.
you complied instantly, pushing up onto your hands and knees and arching your back, offering yourself to him. he settled behind you, his knees nudging your legs apart. one of his hands rested on the small of your back, a grounding weight, while the other tangled in your hair, gently guiding your face down into a soft pillow.
he leaned in close, his hot breath making you shiver. "you're already so wet," he murmured, his voice full of wonder. he must have seen it when he turned you over, the slick sheen of your own arousal already glistening between your folds, making you ready for him. "your body knows. it's ready for me."
his words sent another jolt of heat straight between your legs. you were aching for him.
his hand moved from your back, and you felt his slick fingers at your entrance. he slid one finger inside you easily, and you gasped into the pillow, your hips twitching.
"so good," he praised, his voice thick. "so warm."
he added a second finger, stretching you in the best way, and you whined. he started moving his fingers in a slow, steady rhythm, and his thumb found your clit, which was already a hard, sensitive nub. he began rubbing slow circles, and your brain just shut off.
it was too much. the feeling of being filled while he played with your clit was sending you into overdrive. you started rocking back against his hand, unable to stop yourself, chasing the pleasure.
"that's it, baby, yes," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble. "show me how much you want it.."
you couldn't form words. all you could do was moan, long and breathy sounds that were muffled by the pillow. your hand, the one with your charm bracelet, flew back and found his wrist, the one holding your ass cheek steady. you gripped him tight, the little metal charms clinking softly with every movement. the sound was bright and clear against the wet, sloppy noises his fingers were making inside you.
"jason," you managed to gasp out, your voice breaking. "please… need you…"
"i know, baby, i know," he rasped, his own control slipping fast. "i just need to fill you up. please let me fill you up."
his words, the desperate plea in his voice, pushed you closer to the edge.
he pulled his fingers out with a loud wet sound that made you cry out in protest. for a split second, you felt empty, and then felt the blunt, heavy head of his cock pressing against your entrance. he was slick with both of your releases.
he didn't wait. he pushed inside you with one long, powerful surge that seated him all the way to the hilt.
a scream was torn from your lungs, but the pillow ate the sound. your eyes squeezed shut, your whole body seizing up at the incredible, overwhelming feeling of being filled so completely. it was the perfect kind of pain, a stretch that lit up every nerve. your hand tightened on his wrist, your bracelet jingling like crazy.
he held still for a second, buried deep inside you, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him. you could feel him pulsing, growing even harder within your tight heat.
"fuck," he groaned, resting his forehead on your shoulder. "you feel so fucking good. so tight."
he pulled out slowly, almost all the way, before sinking back in deep. you moaned with every single thrust, your hips instinctively rocking to meet him. the wet slap of his hips against your ass cheeks started to build a rhythm, the only sound in the room besides your frantic breaths.
the sheets were a lost cause. your slick was mixing with his, creating a slippery, sloppy mess that made every thrust feel incredible. with every push, you could feel more of your own wetness gushing out, dripping onto the bed. you were both just oozing, a hot, beautiful mess.
"god, look at us," he panted, his voice a rough rasp in your ear. "so sloppy. you love how messy we get, don't you?"
"yes," you sobbed, the word ripped from you. "yes, mm, jason, please, don't stop."
his thrusts got harder, faster. he was pounding into you now, a relentless rhythm that was all about getting deeper, satisfying that ache. he was drilling into you, trying to touch your cervix, trying to get as close as possible. your ass jiggled from the force of his thrusts, your body being pushed forward into the mattress with each one.
you were both a panting, moaning mess, spitting out filthy words and broken pleas.
"right there… fuck, yes… keep going…" you begged.
"gonna-fill you up so full," he grunted back, his words timed with his thrusts. "need to feel you take all of it… all my cum… let me come inside you, mamas…"
you were so close. the pleasure was building into a tight, unbearable knot low in your belly. your toes curled, your back arched, and you could feel your inner walls starting to flutter.
he felt it. he felt you starting to clench around his length. "cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice a low, desperate command. "let go for me. show me how good it feels. c’mon!"
that was all it took. his words, the feeling of him filling you so completely, the desperate need in his voice, it all crashed together. a scream ripped through you as your orgasm took over. it was a violent, shattering release. your body convulsed around him, your inner walls milking his cock in tight, spasming waves. your vision went white. there was nothing but him and this incredible feeling.
your climax sent him over the edge. he let out a deep, guttural roar and with one last, impossibly deep thrust, he came.
he flooded you. you could feel him pumping his hot seed deep inside you, powerful jet after powerful jet, filling you up until you felt like you would overflow. he didn't stop, his hips giving a few last weak bucks as the orgasm finally subsided.
he collapsed on top of you, a dead weight of sweat and muscle and pure relief. he didn't pull out. he stayed buried inside you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close. his hands came to rest on your lower belly, a warm, comforting pressure.
you lay there, a trembling, boneless mess under him, your mind blissfully empty. you could feel his warm cum starting to leak from you, adding to the mess on the sheets.
the room was quiet again, the only sounds were your breaths slowly returning to normal. after a long, peaceful moment, he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your skin.
"thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with exhaustion and gratitude. "fuck, baby. i love you so damn much."
Jason Todd has never been anyone's first pick. He knows that. He's second, third, eighth best.
He doesn't get second glances, he doesn't get what he wants, and he doesn't get to be anyone's first thought. He's not anyone's go-to person. He understands that, accepts that.
But, deep down, in a place he doesn't want to ever want to unpack, he wishes you would.
You. He knows he has it bad for you. Pretty eyes, even prettier smiles. He's head over heels, a complete mess with no direction, and no idea what to do about it.
He'll endure the teasing he gets when he stares at you too long. He'll ignore the doubts that creep into his mind that you'd hate him if you knew how his heart stutters at the sight of you. He'll deal with it all if he can just spend another second listening to you laugh.
He thinks you have at least a vague idea of how he feels. You must pity him, because you seem happy to patrol with him. You sit yourself next to him on the couch more often than not during movie nights. You call him when life keeps him too busy from visiting.
It lulls him into a false sense of security, that even with how broken he is, you still want to stick around. It makes him a little greedy, a little selfish, to have more of your attention.
But you give it to him. Without question, without asking for anything in return.
You text him more, invite him to your apartment. He finds himself more and more entwined in your life, and it's more than he ever thought he'd deserve.
He's sitting in your kitchen one night, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice as he tells you what he's planning to cook for dinner. It's a new recipe. One he thinks you'll like.
But then you get a call. He deflates a little when he hears your friend inviting you out. He tries to keep the smile on his face. It's fine if you go. The leftovers he leaves might not be as good as they are fresh, and it might not taste as good without you, but he's not going to hold it against you.
He swallows the knot in his throat when you hang up the call, head spinning with so many thoughts he missed the tail end of your conversation, "So, ah, rain check for dinner then?"
You look a little surprised, "No? We're hanging out tonight, aren't we?"
"I mean, yeah," he says, cursing himself for stammering, "but, if ya wanted to go out, I wouldn't blame ya."
"I don't," You say easily, "I wanna stay here with you."
His gaze flicks over your face, trying to pick out the truth of your words, "You do?"
"Yeah. I'll always choose you, Jason," you tell him softly, like you don't realize you're knocking his entire world off center, "I like being around you."
He can't fight the wide, cheesy grin that spreads across his face, and he quickly turns to mess with the ingredients on the counter to hide, "Oh. Cool. Yeah. Me too."
You giggle a little, and his face heats up at the sound. He forces out more words, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart, "So, uh, dinner?"
"Dinner," you echo, voice happy and light. It makes him think he might have had this all wrong. That, there's a chance, he really is your person.
The thought sticks with him all the way through dinner. And when you smile like you want to be here, when you ask him for seconds, he almost starts to think it's true.
