#lmxq

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘨𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺𝘺

“Getting flowers can always be cute! But personal preferences vary widely…”

Jason sighed, the words glowing back at him from his phone screen as he sat on a rooftop. The dim light caught the edge of his mask, casting a shimmery glow across the red mask. It had been a slow night for Gothams criminals,plenty of time for his brain to torment him.

Tomorrow. He wanted to surprise you tomorrow morning. Show up at your apartment door with a bundle of flowers, bright and colorful, just to see your smile. He could already picture it,you, standing there in those cute little pajamas you wore when the two of you FaceTimed late at night. The striped ones he thought about way too much.

Ughhh. Yeah. He thought about pulling you close, burying his face into your hair, and finally falling asleep with your soft scent wrapped around him. It made him ache, how badly he wanted it.

But… would flowers be TOOO much?

You’d only been talking for a couple of months. And you didn’t even know about him being Red Hood—yet. The thought made his stomach twist. You were too precious, too good. If you ever got caught in the crossfire of his world just because of what he did… he shook the thought away before it could choke him

Jason dragged his eyes back to the screen, rereading the search results for the tenth time.

Do you even like flowers?

“Fuck… think, Jason, think” he muttered under his breath

His mind wandered instead to the sushi place you’d brought him to, swearing it had the freshest rolls in Gotham. You’d sat across from him, telling him about your day, and he’d barely heard half of it because he couldn’t stop staring at you.

Your hair, always so effortlessly perfect,like it belonged in one of those slow-motion movie shots. Your eyes, shimmering when you laughed. And god, your lips,glossed and soft, putting every lipgloss ad to shame. He couldn’t wait to taste them, and just the thought of it had his chest tightening.

Jason found himself smiling, lost in the thought of you, before snapping back to reality and glaring down at his phone.

Jason hadn’t expected it to be this stressful,picking flowers for a girl.

But you weren’t just any girl. You were THE girl. Unique, perfect for him, and somehow everything he didn’t know he needed. So yeah, it felt like an impossible decision, because he wanted the flowers to actually mean something. He wanted them to represent you.

He stood in front of the glass display, running a hand through his hair in frustration as his eyes darted between endless options

“I think… I’m gonna do these ones” he muttered finally, staring at the bright, bold flowers that practically radiated energy. Beautiful. Just like you.

He pulled out his wallet while the guy behind the counter retrieved them from the back, carefully arranging the bouquet before placing it onto the counter. The florist raised an eyebrow at Jason, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips

“Special lady in your life?”

Jason froze for half a second, distracted mid-motion with his wallet still in his hand. His throat went dry, but he managed a low reply

“Very special…” he tumbled, deep voice quite but certain

Even as he said it, his mind betrayed him,what if she’s allergic?! What if I show up with these and she breaks out in hives or I end up rushing her to the ER because I wanted to be sweet?

The florist slid the bouquet across the counter with his change

“Here you go. Flowers for your lady”

Jason hummed a quick thanks, shoving his wallet away before staring down at the bouquet. They smelled sweet, almost too sweet, but not even close to the way you smelled when you leaned into him on your walks home after dates. The scent of yours clung to him long after you left, the kind of sweetness he swore he craved like air

The bell above the shop door jingled as Jason stepped out onto the street, bouquet clutched a little too tightly in one hand. The morning air hit him, cool and sharp, but it didn’t do much to clear his head

What the hell was he doing?

You weren’t even official. Not really. You two had been talking, sure,grabbing dinners when his schedule let him breathe, staying up too late on FaceTime, sharing pieces of your day like it was the most natural thing in the world. But no labels. No big talk. Not even a kiss.

For all he knew, you could’ve been seeing someone else. Maybe there was another guy you laughed with, another guy you let walk you home. The thought twisted in his chest like a knife, making his grip on the flowers tighten until the paper crinkled.

Was he jumping the gun here? Showing up with flowers like some lovesick idiot when you hadn’t even called him your boyfriend?

Jason sighed, running a hand down his face as he walked. He admired what you had,God, he admired it. The way you made space for him without ever asking for more than he could give. The way you didn’t push when he went quiet, didn’t pry when he deflected. It was easy. Safe. Something he’d never thought he’d had

But he wanted more.

And that scared the hell out of him.

He glanced down at the bouquet, bright petals brushing against his arm as he carried it. They felt heavy now, heavier than they had in the shop. What if you thought it was too much? What if you laughed it off? What if you looked at him with those perfect eyes and told him you weren’t ready for this—for him?

Jason clenched his jaw and kept walking.

Jason’s thoughts were so loud he almost didn’t notice the person he’d walked straight into. His jaw clenched, ready to throw a glare and mutter something sharp,until he looked down.

And there you were.

The golden morning sun caught your face, making you look even more unreal than you already did. His chest tightened instantly, all that frustration evaporating in a rush of heat

“Jason! Hi!” You greeted, bright and warm, like the morning itself. “I was just gonna call you! Wanted to invite you over for breakfast! I’m getting bagels!”

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, your eyes dropped to the bouquet in his hands

“Oooo! Flowers!” You gasped, your smile wide. “They’re gorgeous. Who are they for? Decorations?” You teased, tilting your head

And Jason—stupid, overthinking, panicking, Jason,snapped before his brain could catch up

“They’re not for you! They’re for someone else.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

You froze, the sparkle in your eyes dimming as the smile slowly fell from your face. “Oh…uhm. Okay, well then…” your voice cracked as you trailed off, looking anywhere but him.

Jason’s stomach dropped. Nausea clawed at his throat, guilt flooding him so fast he swore his knees might buckle. He wanted to sink straight into the ground, erase the words, take them back. But it was too late,you were already stepping away.

Jason stood frozen, the words still hanging between you like smoke he couldn’t clear.

He wanted to punch himself. Hard.

Because you’d look so damn happy when your eyes lit up at the flowers in his hand. You’d look at him with that sweet, curious smile that always knocked the air right out of his chest. For a half second, he’d actually pictured you holding them, smiling brighter, maybe throwing your arms around his neck

And then he went and ruined it.

Now that smile was gone. Your voice cracked as you tried to cover the sting, and the sound of it gutted him. You turned away, hugging yourself against the morning chill, and Jason felt nausea coil deep in his stomach.

Idiot. Absolute fucking idiot.

He tightened his grip on the bouquet, the paper crinkling under his fist. He’s never hated himself more for running his mouth without thinking.

The only thing he wanted in that moment was to shove the flowers into your hands, to beg you to believe they were for you, that they’d always been for you. But his throat locked up, guilt and panic battling in his chest as he watched you walked away.

By the time Jason made it back to the manor, the flowers were still clutched in his hand, their bright colors mocking him with every step. He hadn’t even realized how tightly he was gripping them until the edges of the paper dug into his palm.

“Heyyy, look who decided to come home,” Dick called from the hall, leaning against the doorframe with that smug grin that always made Jason want to roll his eyes. “What’s that, little bro? You finally got yourself a secret admirer?”

Jason didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at him. Just brushed past, jaw locked, and kept walking.

“Woah, nothing? Not even a grunt?” Dick laughed, trailing after him a few steps. “C’mon, Jay, don’t tell me you’re going soft—”

The slam of Jason’s bedroom door cut him off

Inside, Jason dropped onto his bed, bouquet still in hand, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He felt hollow. Numb. Every time he blinked, he saw your face,how bright it had been when you spotted the flowers, how quickly it had fallen when he opened his stupid mouth.

Hours blurred together in silence.

When he finally turned his head to check the clock, his stomach sank. Night had already fallen. Time for patrol.

Jason sighed, dragging himself upright. The flowers lay across his lap, untouched. He hated how they still smelled sweet, like something meant for you.

But instead, they sat with him,silent proof of his screw-up,as he pulled on his gear and readied himself to face the night.

Jason’s fists ached under his gloves, knuckles bruised from hitting harder than he needed to. Every criminal he put down tonight felt less like justice and more like punishment for himself. Rage simmered under his skin, burning through him in sharp, reckless bursts

But then…he froze.

On the corner of a quiet street, you sat on a bench under a flickering streetlight, swinging your feet lightly as you waited for the bus. The sight of you knocked the air from his lungs

Before he could stop himself, Jason leapt down from the rooftop, landing with a thud that made the bench rattle. He straightened quickly, stupidly planting his hands on his hips like he was Superman

“Hello!” His voice came out too loud, too awkward. “Uh—I came here to ask if you’re okay. Don’t want you… y’know, in danger or anything!” He tried to lower his tone, make it sound smooth and commanding, but instead his voice cracked, betraying him

You blinked up at him, startled at first, but then your shoulders slumped. You looked down at your lap, picking at your sleeve

“Just… a bad day,” you murmured, your voice soft, breaking. “I really liked this guy—” Your words wavered, lips trembling, and you couldn’t even finish before a tear slipped free

Jason’s heart shattered.

“I thought we had something amazing” you whispered, your lips pouting in that way he’d memorized, the same lips he dreamed about kissing. “It was nothing I’ve ever felt before… only to find out he’s talking to another girl.”

Jason felt his throat close up, guilt clawing at every inch of him. He wanted to rip his mask off, fall to his knees, and tell you the truth,that the “guy” was him, that there wasn’t another girl, that the only thing he was guilty of was being a coward who said the wrong thing.

But all he could do in that moment was stare, silent, torn between his secret and his desperate need to fix what he’d broken.

Jason swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. He wanted to rip the helmet off, to spill every truth, but his chest was locked tight.

Instead, he crouched down in front of you, his bulky frame lowering until his glowing red eyes were level with your tear-stained ones.

“Hey” his voice softened, no fake bravado this time. “Whoever this guy is… he’s a damn fool. You deserve better. Way better.”

You sniffled, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. “Doesn’t feel like it right now.”

Jason’s heart twisted, but he pushed a little closer, resting his hands on his knees. “Want me to beat him up for you?” he asked suddenly, tilting his head like it was the most casual offer in the world.

You blinked at him, startled, before a small, watery laugh slipped out. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he said, voice playful but earnest. “Name, address—I’ll make sure he regrets it. Nobody makes some one pretty like you,cry on my watch.”

You shook your head, laughing again, and the sound loosened something in his chest. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though the smile tugging at your lips was real this time.

Jason smirked under the helmet, though you couldn’t see it. There it is, he thought. That smile. The one he’d do anything for.

And for just a second, the guilt didn’t feel so crushing.

“I’ll… I’ll walk you, uhm, home” Jason mumbled, still trying to drag his voice lower, like Red Hood should sound.

You gave him a side glance, lips twitching. “Yeah, uh… just don’t rob me. I don’t need a more horrible day.”

Jason let out a sharp breath that was half a laugh, half a groan. Even when your voice was shaky, you still had that spark

You both stood from the bench, and Jason instinctively took a step forward, ready to lead the way. Then it hit him like a brick

Red Hood wasn’t supposed to know where you lived

He froze, boots heavy against the sidewalk. His mind scrambled for an excuse, anything that would cover his slip without raising suspicion. He couldn’t just march you home like he knew the exact street, the exact apartment door. That wasn’t supposed to be part of the mask

His throat tightened inside the helmet, panic crawling up his neck.

Your steps slowed, your voice small and trembling. “I still really like him,” you whispered, each word dragging another crack through Jason’s chest. “He was so handsome… and everything I could ever ask for.”

Jason’s stomach churned, nausea clawing at him. He wanted to scream that it was him, that he was the idiot who screwed it up. Instead, he forced out a shaky breath, trying to keep his tone steady

“Are you sure you don’t want me to beat this guy up?” he asked softly, crouching his head to catch your eyes through the tears. “Because I know Batman. I can get Batman”

The words slipped out half-serious, half-desperate attempt to make you laugh again.

You hiccupped, blinking at him through wet lashes. “You’re silly…” you whispered, but there was the tiniest curve of a smile on your lips despite the tears

Jason smirked faintly behind the mask, though his chest still ached. He’d take it. Anything to make you smile again, even if you didn’t know it was him.

The walk was slow, quiet—your shoulders still tense, his every step measured like he was balancing on glass. Jason hung back just enough to look like he was just escorting, not leading, biting back the instinct to walk the familiar path home to you like he’d done a hundred times before.

Finally, you stopped in front of your apartment door. The golden glow of the hallway light spilled across your face, softening the traces of tears still clinging to your lashes. Jason swallowed hard, the flowers still heavy in his memory, guilt pressing down on him like armor.

He shifted awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck through the helmet. “Alright… uh. Here you are. Safe and sound.” His voice cracked at the edges despite his best effort to keep it low and even.

You looked up at him, giving a small, tired smile. “Thanks… really. For walking me.”

Jason’s chest tightened, the words he wanted to say screaming in his head, but all that came out was a gruff, “Have a good night.”

He lingered a moment too long, then turned sharply, the red glow of his helmet fading as he disappeared into the shadows of the hall.

Jason vaulted up the fire escape two steps at a time, his boots hitting metal hard enough to rattle. By the time he pulled himself onto the roof, his chest was heaving—not from the climb, but from the storm inside him.

He tore the helmet off, running a hand through his hair as the cool night air hit his sweat-damp skin. The city stretched around him, restless and glowing, but all he could see was you. The way your voice cracked. The way your smile dimmed. The way you’d sat on that bench and said you thought he was everything you ever wanted,only for him to blow it.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut, bile rising in his throat. I’m such a fucking idiot.

He dropped down onto the ledge, elbows braced on his knees, helmet dangling from one hand. The other dug into his hair, tugging at the roots. He’d hurt you, the last thing in this world he ever wanted to do. And for what? Because he was scared? Because he thought flowers were “too much”?

No. No more of that.

Jason stood abruptly, jaw clenched, determination snapping into place. He wasn’t going to let that be the ending. Not with you.

Those damn flowers were still sitting in his room at the manor. He pictured them—bright, sweet, mocking him every time he looked at them

Tomorrow, you were going to have them

No more hiding behind Red Hood. No more half-truths. No more letting fear choke him. You were worth every risk, every fight, every ounce of his screwed-up heart

Jason Todd was going to make it up to you.

Starting with those flowers.

Steam curled out of the bathroom as Jason stepped into his room, towel slung low on his hips. His reflection stared back from the mirror above the dresser,haunted eyes, clenched jaw, hair damp and messy. He dragged his hands down his face, muttering, Don’t screw this up.

He dressed carefully, slower than he ever had for patrol. Black jeans. Clean shirt. Jacket zipped just enough to show effort without looking like effort.

Then came the cologne. His cologne. The one you’d once told him made you dizzy,in the good way,when you leaned into his chest after dinner. He sprayed it twice, then paused, hesitated, and sprayed again, grimacing. “Too much” he muttered, waving his hand through the cloud. But deep down, he knew it never mattered. Your sweetness always drowned out everything else.

The bouquet sat on his nightstand, still fresh, still bright, like it had been waiting for this exact morning. Jason picked it up, adjusting the paper once, twice, like it needed to be perfect

By the time he stepped outside, the sun was just beginning to climb the horizon, streaks of gold spilling across Gotham’s gray skyline. The city was waking, and so was he.Heart pounding, palms slick with sweat as he walked

All the way down the block, he rehearsed. Just say it straight. Tell her the truth. Tell her they were always for her. Tell her you’re a jackass but you’re her jackass if she’ll have you

He repeated it over and over, but when he finally stopped, blinking up at your building, his stomach dropped.

He was already here.

Flowers in hand, Jason stood frozen at your door, his broad shoulders tense, one big, sweaty palm hovering inches from knocking. His chest ached, his pulse deafening in his ears.

This is it. Don’t screw it up. Please, don’t screw it up.

“I swear, if I need to put a no soliciting sign up, I will! I don’t want your produc—”

Your words cut off the moment the door swung fully open

There he was. Jason. Tall, broad, shoulders filling the doorway, and somehow making the bouquet in his hand look almost small. The same flowers you’d seen yesterday.

“J–Jason!” Your voice faltered, the air catching in your throat. “What… what do you need?”

You scrambled, heart racing, trying to sound collected, trying to defend yourself against the wave of emotions crashing over you. But Jason wasn’t really listening to your words,he was staring.

Your lashes. Still damp. Red at the edges, just enough to betray you.

Jason shifted his weight, the bouquet trembling slightly in his grip. His throat felt dry, but the words burned behind his teeth. This was his chance. His only chance.

Jason’s grip on the flowers tightened, his pulse hammering in his ears. He couldn’t stand another second of silence, of you staring at him with those tear-bright eyes

“They’re for you,” he blurted, the words tumbling out too fast, too rough. “The flowers—they were always for you. I was gonna bring ’em yesterday but I… I screwed it up. Said the wrong thing. Made it sound like they weren’t. But they are. They’re yours”

He exhaled hard, shoulders dropping, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Hell, I’d never wanna hurt you. You’re… you’re all I think about.” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, trying to keep it together. “I like you. Way more than I should, probably. And I’m not good at this,saying it, doing it,but I couldn’t just let you think I was with someone else. There’s no one else. Just you”

Jason thrust the bouquet forward, almost shoving it into your hands like he couldn’t stand to hold onto it any longer

“They’re yours. Always were”

You didn’t move right away. The air between you hung heavy, filled with the smell of his cologne and the sweetness of the flowers.

Slowly, carefully, you reached out, your fingers brushing the paper wrapping as if you were afraid they’d vanish. Jason’s big hand loosened its grip, letting you take them, though he looked like he’d rather choke than let go.

You stared down at the bouquet, lips parting but no words coming out, waiting…needing…to hear more. To know he meant it.

Jason’s throat bobbed, and for once, he didn’t look away. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance after the crap I pulled yesterday,” he muttered, voice low and raw. “But I’m asking for one anyway. Because I can’t stand the thought of you thinking you’re not enough for me. You’re… you’re everything. The only thing I don’t wanna screw up.”

Your grip tightened slightly around the stems, your heart hammering against your ribs as you studied his face, searching for a crack, a lie, something.

But all you saw was Jason,nervous, messy, and painfully sincere.

“Y’know… you’re actually a goof ” you muttered, a laugh slipping past your lips as you finally looked up at him

Jason blinked, stunned for a second, then let out the faintest breath of a laugh himself,like he couldn’t quite believe you weren’t throwing him back down the hall

You shifted to the side, opening the door wider. “Well? You just gonna stand there, or are you coming in?”

For all his broad shoulders and cocky attitude on the streets, Jason hesitated. His boots stayed planted on the threshold, his eyes flicking from the doorway to you, like he needed that last ounce of permission before stepping into your world.

You gave him a small smile and a quick nod

That was all he needed.

Jason stepped inside carefully, bouquet still clutched awkwardly in one hand, his other shoved deep into his jacket pocket as if to keep from fidgeting. He looked around your cozy apartment, taking in the warm clutter, the faint scent of your favorite candle still lingering in the air

Behind him, you closed the door softly, the click echoing in the quiet room

For the first time in days, Jason felt like maybe—just maybe,he hadn’t ruined everything

You moved toward the kitchen, the bouquet cradled against your chest. Jason trailed behind a step, watching as you pulled a tall glass vase from the cupboard, filled it with water, and carefully placed the flowers inside.

They looked perfect there,bright, alive, filling your cozy apartment with color. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away. They belong here. She belongs with them. No, she belongs with me.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers” you said softly, adjusting the stems, not looking at him.

Jason exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I did.” His voice was low, almost rough. “Because you… you don’t get it. You’re the first thing in a long time that makes me feel like I’m not just—” he stopped himself, jaw clenching, searching for the words. “Like I’m not just a mess. You make me wanna be better. And I’m scared as hell of screwing that up.”

You finally turned, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. Your brows arched. “You’re such a sap, Todd.”

Jason huffed a laugh, shaking his head. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that she’s got me wrapped around her finger. That I’d go through hell twice over just to see her smile again.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Before Jason could overthink again, you stepped forward, sliding your arms around his broad frame. He froze for half a second, then melted, his hands coming up to cradle you gently against his chest.

And then, slowly, you tilted your head up and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was perfect,soft, warm, unhurried. Just like everything Jason had ever wanted but never believed he’d have.

His heart slammed in his chest, his thoughts a blur. Don’t wake up. Don’t ruin this. Don’t ever let her go.

When you finally pulled back, your lips still brushed his, and Jason let out the smallest, shaky laugh. For once, he wasn’t overthinking. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴

𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦

18+ 𝘔𝘋𝘕𝘐

You and Wally had only been dating for two months

but it never really felt like only two months.

The way you clicked together, the way you fell into each other’s lives so naturally, it almost felt like you’d been doing this forever. Sometimes, it even felt like being married already—sharing homes, routines, and stolen little moments.

You’d been over to his place a million times, curled up in his bed that carried his cologne so strongly you swore you could practically taste it on the air. And he’d been to your apartment just as often, laughing while he hovered at your side in the kitchen, helping you follow some TikTok recipe that never came out the way the video promised.

You loved him.

He loved you.

Simple as that.

And he never missed a chance to show you.

Whenever your make-outs got a little too heated, his nerves would always shine through. He’d pull back just long enough to leave a slick little string of saliva still connecting your mouths, his lips pink and his grin cheeky.

“Taste so good…” he’d murmur, thumb brushing your chin. Or sometimes, he’d breathe out, voice low, “You’re so good at this, babe…” before diving back in and swallowing your next laugh with another kiss.

The only thing really holding the two of you back…

Well—

was sex.

Sure, there were those late nights, 3AM texts when neither of you could sleep. Wally would always complain about how much he missed you—missed the way your perfume clung to his neck after you hugged him goodbye.

Those words alone made you grin in the dark, curling into your pillow as you typed back how much you missed him more—his curls, his warmth, the way they tickled your cheeks whenever he held you close.

But somehow, the texts would always… shift.

One minute, you were being cute. The next, your phone buzzed with a picture—Wally in his pajama pants, a very obvious tent straining against the fabric, followed by nothing but a sad face emoji.

Your cheeks would burn as nervous laughter bubbled up, thighs pressing together without you even realizing, heat pooling between your legs. Then came the videos—his hand sliding over his boxers, voice breaking in a breathy whisper that made your stomach flip,

“Miss you so much.”

You hadn’t really seen each other like that yet—not in person. Sexting was as far as it went.

But in real life? Wally was pure sweetness. A total angel. The kind of guy every girl dreamed of. He’d tug out his wallet before you could even reach into your purse, and he never let go of your hand on late-night walks through your neighborhood.

He was the best kind of trouble—gentle and golden-hearted in the daylight… but when the lights went out? Your phone always told a different story.

Saturday nights with Wally had become their own tradition.

Every weekend, like clockwork, he’d come over for what you two called a sleepover—face masks, scrolling through Instagram and roasting random reels, or watching those cheap old movies nobody had ever heard of. It was comfortable. Familiar. Yours.

But tonight felt different.

The moment Wally stepped into your apartment, it was like the air shifted—thicker, warmer, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

He didn’t seem to notice—at least not in the same way. He swept you up in one of his big, bone-crushing hugs, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before peppering your face in smothering pecks, giggling between each one.

“Hey, babe!” he grinned, burying his nose into your hair and inhaling like he’d been starved of you. He didn’t even try to hide it.

“Wally!” you squealed, laughing as you squirmed in his arms. “Baby—stop, that tickles!”

You tugged him inside, shutting and locking the door as he finally set you down.

Wally dropped his backpack right away, the same one that was always stuffed full—snacks for later, DVDs he’d dug up from thrift stores, even a book or two he’d read aloud to you once you were both curled up and winding down.

It should’ve felt like every other Saturday.

But it didn’t

Wally trailed after you as you padded deeper into your apartment, the cozy space already alive with soft lighting and the hum of the TV in the background. It wasn’t loud, not distracting—just the kind of noise that made the place feel lived in. Warm. Safe.

“How was breakfast with Dick?” you asked as you dropped onto the couch.

Wally flopped down right beside you without hesitation, his arm slipping around your shoulders like muscle memory. His touch was casual, familiar—but the warmth of it made your chest tighten anyway.

“Soooo good, babe!” he grinned, throwing his head back dramatically. “We have to go sometime. Their orange juice is, like, otherworldly. Fresh squeezed. Sweet, tangy, basically nectar of the gods.”

You giggled at his over-the-top sigh as he closed his eyes, clearly still daydreaming about it.

“No drama from him?” you teased, shifting so you could look at him properly.

“Mmmm… no, not that I remember,” he murmured, opening his eyes again—only now, his gaze caught on yours. Or rather, on your lips. His words got quieter, his voice softer, like he was already half-distracted by the thought of kissing you.

“No?” you whispered, cupping his warm cheek. Neither of you dared look away, your eyes flickering down to each other’s mouths until it was inevitable—you leaned in, slow and careful, until your lips finally brushed against his.

It was familiar, and still it made your whole body spark.

You pulled back with a sly smile, whispering, “Smell good…”

Color bloomed over his cheeks instantly, and he laughed under his breath. “Thanks… took a shower before I left. Wanted to be ready for my girlfriend.”

That cheeky smile, the constellation of freckles across his face—you swore you’d never get tired of staring at him.

“Ready?” you echoed with a teasing smirk, trailing a finger down his chest. “Ready for what, Mr. West?”

You leaned back against the couch, feigning nonchalance, but Wally didn’t let up. His eyes—bright, hungry—followed every move you made, like he was hanging on the edge of a cliff and you were the one holding the rope.

“Ready to see you,” he whispered, voice low and rougher than usual.

Before you could reply, his hand wrapped gently around your wrist, lifting it to his lips. He pressed a kiss against your knuckles, soft and reverent—then another, higher up your arm. And another. Each kiss pulled him closer, his body leaning over yours until he was hovering, lips brushing your collarbone.

Your breath hitched.

He trailed upward slowly, deliberately, pressing kisses to your throat, the edge of your jaw. Every one left your skin hotter, your head lighter, until you swore the only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted more.

“You’re so warm…” Wally mumbled against your skin, his lips brushing your neck. The words sent a shiver down your spine, but his voice was so soft, so full of awe, it made you smile.

“And you smell so good. Like always,” he sighed, almost like he was drunk on you.

You laughed lightly, the sound bubbling out before you could stop it. His head lifted from the crook of your neck, and suddenly his face hovered over yours—so close, so unrelentingly present.

His eyes lingered.

Your hair spread perfectly against the cushion beneath you, like some kind of halo. Your lashes fluttered, long and soft, framing the way you looked up at him with wide eyes that begged without words. And your lips—slightly parted, still kissed-swollen—God, those lips were everything.

For a second, his thoughts were innocent. Gentle. Look at her. My beautiful girlfriend. How did I get this lucky?

Then reality hit him like a brick.

My beautiful girlfriend is giving me a total boner right now.

Heat rushed to his cheeks as fast as it did to the rest of him. His breath stuttered as he shifted, suddenly all too aware of how close your bodies were, how your thighs shifted ever so slightly beneath him.

“Babe…” he whispered, half a plea, half a warning to himself. His forehead pressed against yours like he was trying to ground himself, but the way his hips twitched made it obvious—self-control was a thin, fragile thread right now.

“Wally, wh—” Your words cut short when you felt it—the hard press against your thigh. Your breath hitched instantly.

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “’M sorry! I’m sorry!” he blurted, scrambling upright like he’d been caught committing a crime.

Before you could even process, he snatched up a throw pillow and dropped it on his lap, his movements quick and clumsy. His gaze locked stubbornly on the TV, as if the random sitcom rerun could save him from his embarrassment. His freckled cheeks were practically glowing, redder than his hair.

Your own lips curved before you could stop them, a giggle bubbling up and spilling out. You pressed your hand over your mouth, but it didn’t matter—he heard. He always heard.

Wally’s jaw tightened, and he finally dared a glance at you. Noticing the giggle. The smile. And yet he still pouted, brows furrowing.

What a loser, he thought bitterly. God, she’s laughing. I ruined the moment. Why can’t I just—

“Wals…” you said softly, still smiling, but now with a tilt of your head that was far more tender than mocking.

He tore his eyes away from you, face angled toward the TV again, as if ignoring you could erase what just happened.

But your giggle lingered in the air, warm and teasing, wrapping around him in a way that made his heart race even faster than before.

“That was kinda hot…” you whispered, leaning close enough that your lips brushed his ear.

Wally froze, his whole body locking up. Wait—what—hot?

His head snapped toward you instantly, green eyes wide, searching your face for any sign that you were teasing him. But there was nothing—no smirk, no joking glint. Just your soft, daring voice.

“You’re really big, Wals…” you added, your words feather-light but laced with heat.

He swore he felt the blood drain from his brain and rush straight to his cock, his lips parting as though he’d forgotten how to breathe. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, quivering.

“B-Babe…” he stammered, his voice cracking embarrassingly. His hands twitched at his sides, like he didn’t know whether to pull you closer or bury his face in the pillow on his lap.

He knew he was decent down there, sure—but hearing it from you, his gorgeous girlfriend, the one person who mattered most? It was enough to make his stomach flip and his boxers uncomfortably tight all over again.

“Want you to kiss me again, Wally…” you whispered, a soft whine coating your words as your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

That was all it took. The pillow went flying to the floor, practically at the speed of light, before Wally’s hands were on your waist, tugging you into his lap. Your knees bracketed his sides, your chest flush with his, and his grip tightened on your hips until you sank down against him—against the very obvious, very hard problem straining beneath his boxers.

“You feel me, baby?” he groaned, his forehead falling to rest against yours, breath hot and uneven. His voice cracked at the edges, full of desperate honesty. “That’s what you do to me… always.”

There was no hiding now. No pillow. No shame. Just you, sitting pretty on his lap, making his whole body tremble with how badly he wanted you.

Was this it?

Was this finally the night? The night he got to feel you, all of you—the night he’d dreamed about a hundred times over?

God, he wasn’t some creep. He wasn’t a pervert. It wasn’t like that. He just loved you so much it ached. Loved you so much he craved every piece of you. Some nights he’d fist himself with your name on his tongue, picturing the way you’d sound when his mouth was buried between your thighs, imagining how sweet you’d taste on his tongue.

But this moment—the way you looked sitting on his lap, eyes blown wide, lips swollen, begging for him—this was the one he replayed in his head the most.

Because when you and Wally finally did this, he didn’t want it to be just fucking. He wanted it to be slow, steady—making love. He wanted to feel every single pulse and squeeze of you wrapped around him, wanted to memorize the way your body welcomed him in for the first time, until he couldn’t take it anymore and spilled inside you, whispering your name like it was holy.

And yeah… maybe he’d been carrying condoms in his backpack for weeks, just in case. Not because he wanted to rush you. But because in his heart, he knew—when the night finally came, he’d want to be ready for you.

His lips found yours again, kissing you soft and steady, tasting you like you were the sweetest thing he’d ever have in his life. Nothing rushed, nothing sloppy—just careful, reverent, like he wanted this moment burned into his memory forever.

I mean, this was your first time together. Might as well make it unforgettable.

You leaned harder into him, your breasts pressing against his warm chest, and you swore you could feel his heart pounding through it. Each beat was frantic, wild, proof that this was just as much for him as it was for you.

God, those tits. The same ones he tried not to stare at during date nights, or in the mornings when you’d stretch under his sheets, the outline taunting him until he had to bite back groans. And now they were right here—pressed against him, his.

You shifted, hips rolling down against the hard length straining beneath his shorts, and the movement pulled a gasp from both of you. Heat pooled in your panties, wetter than you thought was even possible, while his cock brushed right over your clit—exactly where you needed him most.

“Wally…” you broke the kiss, breathless, eyes fluttering shut from the pressure between your thighs.

“Yeah?” he rasped, voice cracking with need. And God, the way his name slipped from your lips in that cute little whine—it damn near undid him. His grip on your hips tightened, knuckles going white, before he slid his hands down to cup your ass in those flimsy shorts you wore to bed.

“Wally!” you whined again, the sound high-pitched and needy, and his breath stuttered at how good it felt to hear you like this. On instinct—pure, reckless instinct—he gave your ass a firm smack.

You moaned, head falling forward against his shoulder, shocking even yourself.

Who was this man? And what the hell had he done with your sweet, bashful Wally West?

“I’m right here, baby… tell me what you need,” he whispered against the crook of your neck, warm breath ghosting over your skin, sending shivers straight to your core.

“Need you…” you whispered, breath shaky as you grabbed his hand—God, it looked so big compared to yours—and guided him under the band of your shorts. His fingertips brushed against your slick heat, and his jaw just about dropped.

“All for me?” he murmured, almost teasing, but his voice broke halfway through, like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. His green eyes snapped up to your face, and what he saw there—your parted lips, the way you were already trembling—was answer enough.

Your expression begged him to move. To do something. To not stop.

So he did.

Slow at first, careful, like he was memorizing every second. His fingers traced lazy circles over your clit, testing, learning, making you squirm in his lap.

“God…” he breathed, eyes fixed on you, watching the way your mouth fell open with every soft gasp, the way your hips rocked down against his hand like you couldn’t get enough. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to speed up, because he wanted to do this right—wanted to learn you.

Your wetness coated his fingers as he moved, and he swore he’d never felt anything so perfect in his life.

“Baby… please. Let me take these off—please,” Wally whispered, voice wrecked, like he was begging for air. Your lashes fluttered as you nodded, the softest “please” falling from your lips.

That was it. That was all he needed.

He slid his hand out from your shorts, already missing the heat there, and helped guide you down flat against the couch cushions. His pulse was racing, his throat dry, because you—his girlfriend, his whole world—were spread out for him like something he’d dreamed about a hundred times.

He slid off the couch and onto his knees, hands trembling a little as he spread your thighs over his shoulders. He kissed your inner thigh first, soft, reverent, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you here. Then his grip tightened, thumbs digging into your warm skin like he needed to anchor himself.

Slowly, carefully, his hands skimmed up until they hooked the waistband of your shorts. His eyes flicked up to yours—checking, always checking—before he tugged them down, slow enough to make you squirm.

When they fell away, he sucked in a sharp breath.

Your panties were soaked. A dark, damp spot right in the center, proof that every whimper, every roll of your hips was all because of him.

He didn’t even wait for an answer before tossing your shorts somewhere—anywhere—and leaning down, pressing his mouth right against that perfect, wet patch. His tongue lapped through the fabric, and your hips jerked instantly, a gasp spilling from your lips.

“God, baby…” Wally groaned against you, already addicted to your taste even through the barrier. “You’re killing me here.”

He pulled his tongue away, and you couldn’t help the needy whine that slipped out.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry…” he whispered, voice low and wrecked as his fingers hooked into the band of your panties. His eyes flicked up to yours one more time—always needing that reassurance, always checking if you were okay.

You gave him a smile, soft and sure, even now. Even when you both knew what was about to happen.

Yup. You were everything he could ever dream of.

He slid the last barrier down, slow and reverent, until the fabric was gone and he was staring—actually staring—at the sight he’d imagined in every fantasy, every restless night with his hand wrapped around himself.

Holy. Shit.

Nothing in his life had ever looked more perfect than you spread open just for him.

And he couldn’t wait another second.

His mouth was on you instantly, lips wrapping around your soaked folds, tongue pressing deep like he was starving. The moment it hit, your back arched and your fingers tangled in his messy ginger curls, a cry slipping out of you before you could stop it.

Wally groaned into your cunt like he’d just tasted heaven, the sound vibrating against your clit. He pulled back for just a second, breathless, lips shining.

“Baby… you should’ve told me sooner you tasted this good,” he mumbled against you, already diving back in. “I mean, I knew—God, I knew you’d taste good, but fuck…”

Then he was gone again, kissing, sucking, making out with your pussy like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Every stroke of his tongue sent sparks shooting through you, building a heat you’d never felt before.

He stuck his tongue out wide, dragging it all over your folds with a sloppy, happy hum of “aaaah” like he was savoring the taste of his favorite meal. The sight of his stupid, adorable grin while he licked you nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

This was his dream.

Yeah, he could definitely see forever with you—marriage, a home, a life together… and eating you out every single hour of every single day. He knew it already: he was addicted.

“Babeh… please cum on my tongue,” he mumbled, still flattened out against you, every word vibrating through your core. “Need it. Want you to need it…”

Then he was back at it—long laps of his tongue, wet and steady, before focusing in on your clit. Gentle sucks at first, teasing, pulling little gasps from your lips. But the second he felt you trembling under him, he picked up speed, sucking harder, faster, determined to push you over the edge.

Your hands fisted tight in his curls, tugging, grounding yourself as your body shook. “Wally—Wally! Gonna cum—f-fuck, Wally!”

That was all it took. You broke with a scream of his name, thighs clamping around his head as you came hard, release flooding against his tongue.

He groaned into it, eating you up, licking every bit like it was liquid gold. “So good,” he moaned, pulling back just far enough to give your swollen clit one last kiss, tender and worshipful. “So, so, sooo good…”

Wally finally pulled himself away from between your legs, chin slick, lips swollen. His chest was heaving like he’d just run a marathon, but his smile was wide and boyish as he crawled back up your body.

Before you could even catch your breath, his mouth was on yours, crashing into your lips with a hungry, sloppy kiss. You whimpered against him, tasting yourself on his tongue, and his groan rumbled deep in his chest.

“Mm—you taste that?” he mumbled against your lips, his voice all husky and wrecked. “So fuckin’ sweet. I knew you would be.” He licked back into your mouth, kissing you deeper, like he wanted to share every last drop.

His hands, shaking slightly from how bad he wanted you, slid under the hem of your shirt. He tugged it up slowly, giving you just enough time to stop him if you wanted, but your soft arch into his touch told him everything he needed.

Wally broke the kiss just long enough to drag the shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The sight made him freeze for half a second—your bare chest, perfect and soft and right there for him. His lips parted, pupils blown wide, and then he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, almost reverent. “You’re… god, you’re perfect.”

His hands cupped your breasts like he’d been dying to do for forever, thumbs brushing across your nipples as his mouth found yours again—slower this time, but no less desperate.

“So nice and soft…” Wally murmured in awe, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as they hardened beneath his touch.

Fuck.

He couldn’t take it anymore—these stupid shorts had to go.

Reluctantly tearing himself from your chest, Wally yanked his own shirt over his head, curls bouncing as he tossed it to the side. He tugged down his shorts, and there it was again—that straining, desperate outline you’d seen in photos before, only now it was real, right in front of you.

“Shit…” he breathed, almost like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Then suddenly, with a blur of movement, he abandoned you on the couch and sped toward his backpack by the door. You laughed breathlessly as he scrambled through it like a madman before finally pulling out a golden wrapper.

“Sorry… sorry…” he mumbled, cheeks red, voice frantic but sweet as he zipped back to you.

You giggled softly, propped up on your elbows as he hooked his fingers in his waistband. “How long have you been planning this?”

Wally froze for a half-second, then flashed you a boyish, out-of-breath smile as he shoved his boxers down, freeing himself. His cock sprang up, flushed and dripping with precum at the tip. Your eyes widened, and he caught it.

“I wouldn’t call it planning…” he said between nervous laughs, tearing open the condom with trembling hands, “but I was definitely ready.”

He leaned down, kissing you sweetly, cupping your face in his big warm hands, skin-to-skin now as his chest pressed against yours.

“Daydreamed about this,” he whispered against your lips. “Every second, every moment. You’re so perfect.”

He gave a shaky sigh as he rolled the condom on, hissing softly at the pressure, his eyes never leaving yours. “Gonna make you feel so good… yeah, baby?”

You nodded quickly, pulling him in for another kiss, soft and lingering, while his hips shifted closer. You felt the blunt, leaking tip of him brush against your folds, and the both of you sucked in a breath at the same time.

“God…” Wally groaned, forehead pressing against yours. “You’re already so warm—so perfect for me.”

He moved slowly, carefully, sliding his tip against your slickness, coating himself with your arousal. Not rushing. Not yet. He wanted to remember this—how your thighs trembled against his hips, how your breath stuttered each time he nudged your clit.

With one last kiss against your lips, he eased forward, pushing past your entrance bit by bit.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his voice soft and shaking, every ounce of him fighting not to move too fast.

Your nails dug lightly into his shoulders, a moan spilling from your lips as he stretched you so slowly, filling you inch by inch.

“That’s it…” Wally whispered, his jaw clenching as he pushed deeper. “Taking me so good, baby… so good.”

Once he was fully seated inside you, he stilled. Completely. His chest heaved as he looked down at you with a dazed, almost reverent expression.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, eyes locked on yours like you were the only thing in the world. “I could stay right here forever.”

He stayed still for a long moment, letting you adjust, letting himself breathe through the overwhelming tightness that wrapped around him. His nose brushed yours, his lips ghosting soft kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your lips.

Then, finally, his hips rolled. Slow. Careful. Drawing almost all the way out before sliding back in just as gently.

“F–fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “You feel… so damn good, baby. So warm… so tight.”

Each thrust was deliberate, dragging against your walls in a way that made you whimper, and he couldn’t stop whispering between every breath.

“I love you—god, I love you so much.”

“Never letting you go. Ever.”

“You’re mine, baby. All mine.”

His lips found your neck, kissing and sucking softly, while his hands roamed your body—your waist, your thighs, back up to cup your breasts with adoration. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t chasing release. He was savoring.

Every time you moaned his name, he’d groan back like he could feel it in his bones.

“Say it again… please. Say my name again.”

And when you did—soft, breathless, needy—it made his hips stutter just slightly, before he slowed back down to that steady, loving pace.

“Yeah… just like that. God, I’m so in love with you.”

You swore—even with his cock buried deep inside you, moving slow and steady—he still gave you butterflies. The kind that fluttered in your stomach every time his lips brushed your ear, every time he whispered something so sweet it made your chest ache.

You were so in love with it.

So in love with him.

Everything felt perfect. The way his hands cupped your waist like you were fragile, like he needed to hold you close or risk losing you. The way his thumb smoothed absent little circles into your skin, grounding himself in you as much as he was driving you insane with every slow, deep roll of his hips.

His thrusts weren’t hurried, weren’t desperate—they were measured, savoring every inch of you like he wanted to memorize it. Every drag out. Every push back in that made your breath catch.

“God, you feel like heaven,” he whispered, lips pressing against your temple. “I don’t deserve you, but I swear I’m never letting you go.”

And the way he said it—raw, almost reverent—made your heart race faster than the steady rhythm of his body moving against yours.

With every deep roll, with every loving word, you felt yourself falling even harder for him.

His hips never faltered, slow and steady, rolling into you like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to savor every single second of being inside you for the first time.

Your nails dragged gently down his back, not even meaning to, just following the rhythm of how good he made you feel. Each deep push had you gasping softly, each slow drag out left you aching to be filled again.

“Easy, baby…” Wally whispered against your lips, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and shaky. “I want you to get there first. Need to see you cum on me before I even think about it.”

The words had your walls clenching tighter around him, making his jaw snap shut with a quiet groan. His thumb found your hipbone, squeezing like he was grounding himself, while his other hand slid down to lace with yours—tangled fingers pressed into the pillow above your head.

“You feel so good,” he kept whispering, his voice breaking just slightly with every push.

The slow grind of his hips angled just right, brushing deeper, dragging deliciously against the spot that made your thighs tremble. And he stayed there, rocking into it, patient and focused—every movement designed to build you higher, slowly, until your breaths came quicker and your soft whimpers filled the room.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged, kissing along your jaw, savoring the way your body tightened around him. “Let it build, baby. I’ve got you. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

The coil in your stomach wound tighter with each careful thrust, each whispered praise. He wasn’t rushing—he wanted to watch you break apart, to feel it, to earn it.

Wally couldn’t look away.

The way he slid in and out of you had him dizzy, your folds parting so perfectly around him, clinging to him like you never wanted to let go. Every slow thrust coated him in more of your slick, the creamy ring forming thicker with every roll of his hips.

His chest rose and fell unevenly, lips parted as his eyes stayed locked on the place where you connected. The sight alone was enough to make his stomach clench, his pace falter for a second before he steadied himself again.

He dragged out every movement—deep, slow, savoring—just so he could keep watching, keep memorizing how your body welcomed him, how wet you were just for him.

he thought he’d never get tired of this view.

Each deep roll of his hips brushed that sweet spot inside you, making your breath hitch before tumbling into little gasps.

“Baby…” you whimpered, the sound breaking into something higher as he pressed deeper, staying buried just to feel you flutter around him.

“Yeah?” Wally’s voice was low, almost shaky, his eyes flicking between your face and the place he was sinking into you.

“F-feels so good,” you panted, voice growing louder, unable to hold it back as your body clenched around him.

Wally’s hand slid to your stomach, feeling the way your body pulled him in with every thrust. “That’s it…”

Your cries grew sharper, edging toward little screams, and he only whispered more, coaxing you through every wave.

“Let it out for me. Don’t hold it in—I wanna hear every sound. Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”

His pace stayed steady, deep and slow, his forehead pressing to yours as you moaned louder and louder beneath him, your body trembling, your voice filling the room.

“Cum for me, baby… let me see it. Please.”

Your thighs shook, body clenching around him as the pressure finally snapped. The scream tore from your throat, your whole body arching beneath him as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

“That’s it—yes, yes—fuck, baby, that’s my girl,” Wally groaned, his voice breaking as he felt you pulse around him. “So beautiful—so good—keep going, let it all out.”

He held himself back, teeth gritted, hips trembling with the effort not to lose control. His hands cradled your face as he kissed you through it, swallowing your cries while his body stayed deep inside yours, letting you ride it all out.

“Love you so much,” he whispered against your lips, voice hoarse, “never felt anything like this—never want anyone but you.”

Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your voice raw as you gasped his name again and again, until you finally slumped back into the couch cushions, trembling, spent.

You were still shaking, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, your skin damp with sweat. Wally hovered over you, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your forehead, whispering little praises as if he couldn’t stop.

“You did so good, baby… god, you’re unreal,” he breathed, his hips still buried inside you, twitching as he tried to keep steady.

But the way your walls still fluttered around him, warm and wet from your release, made it impossible to hold on any longer. His whole body trembled above you, his jaw clenched tight as he kissed you desperately, like a man on the edge.

“Fuck—I can’t—I need—” he choked out against your lips, finally letting his hips roll faster, his restraint snapping.

You cupped his face with shaky hands, pulling him down into a deep kiss, moaning into his mouth as you felt him lose control inside you.

“Wally…” you whispered against his lips, voice hoarse but sure, “I want it...”

That was it. His forehead dropped to yours, his eyes squeezing shut as his thrusts stuttered, a guttural groan ripping from his throat

“Baby—oh my god—fuck—” his voice broke as his release hit him, spilling into the condom while his hips pressed flush to yours, holding you so tight like he never wanted to let you go.

Every pulse of his orgasm had him shaking, his arms trembling as he kept you pinned beneath him, his lips finding yours again and again.

When the waves finally subsided, he collapsed against you, chest pressed to yours, both of you sweaty and breathless. He let out a shaky laugh, kissing the side of your neck.

“Holy shit… that was…” he trailed off, still catching his breath, before pulling back just enough to look at you with soft, glassy eyes.

Wally stayed pressed against you for a long moment, his weight warm and grounding, his heartbeat still racing against your chest. Then he lifted his head just enough to kiss your cheek, your nose, your lips—peppering you in affection until you were giggling softly beneath him.

“Guess I should’ve taken you out to dinner after this,” he whispered, smirking as he brushed damp strands of hair from your forehead.

You rolled your eyes, still breathless, and smacked his bare shoulder. “Wally West… only you would try to make bad jokes right now.”

He grinned, freckles glowing with the faintest blush. “What? You love my bad jokes. Admit it.”

You sighed, pretending to be exasperated, though your smile gave you away.

He kissed you again, slower this time, and when he finally pulled away he was glowing with affection. “I love you,” he murmured. “Like… more than I can ever put into words. Even more than that fresh-squeezed orange juice.”

That made you laugh loud enough for him to bury his face against your neck, his shoulders shaking as he laughed with you.

But eventually, he let out a soft groan, hips shifting as he carefully, slowly pulled out of you. He hissed at the sensitivity, biting his lip before tossing the used condom into the nearby trash. His hands rubbed soothing circles into your hips and thighs, grounding you even as you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, brushing his thumb across your lower stomach as if to check on you.

When you gave him a tired but happy nod, he leaned down to kiss your forehead once more. “Good… ‘cause you deserve nothing less than perfect.”

He carefully tugged your shirt back over you before climbing off the couch, his boxers lazily sliding back up his hips. “Stay put,” he ordered, still playful but gentle. “I’m gonna get a shower started for you. Warm water, soft towels, the whole shebang.”

You tilted your head, teasing, “Since when are you my personal butler?”

He shot you a crooked grin over his shoulder as he padded toward the bathroom. “Since the day I fell for you, babe. Comes with the boyfriend package.”

You couldn’t help but smile, watching him disappear down the hall, already hearing the faint sound of the shower turning on.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

𝘛𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸.

𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

Tim didn’t do dates. Like ever. Like in his entire life.

The concept of a crush—let alone a girlfriend— had never even crossed this man’s mind. Well not a serious girlfriend anyways. He was a simple man and didn’t need much in life so he never thought about it, not when there was crimes and mysteries to be solved still lingering in Gotham that he could solve so easily with his very smart mind.

That was until Dick opened his big mouth one night…

Tim was hunched over in his usual spot with his questinabe posture—surrounded by glowing monitors in the dim room. His fingers flew across the keyboard like they were possessed and had a mind of its own, eyes flickering between fotage of a bank robbery from last week, encrypted files that were supposedly supposed to be protected by the government, and half a dozen case notes

Dicks voice broke the silence, making Tim break his focus like a record scratch

“So… do you have a suit for Friday night?”

Tim didn’t even bother to look up. “Yeah. Alfred steamed it not to long ago actually. Why?”

Dick leaned casually against his door frame, his tone way too cheerful and innocent like he was trying to hide a secret “oh. Well. No reason, just wondering if you were planning on actually using it”

Tim sighed and kept typing. “You know I don’t go to those after-parties”

“This one’s different!” Dicks grin was getting wider every second. “I want you to meet someone” He murrend

Tim finally paused after long hours of hand cramps and sore eyes from his computer. Hands hovering mid air above the keyboard. He turned slowly in his chair almost in a scary evil way, as his eyes narrowed “Dick…”

Dick quickly held up both hands in defense. “Okay, before you even say no or even say anything, just hear me out! This girl! Shes smart, funny, not annoying-“ he was going to continue to ramble about you until he quickly got cut off

“Wow. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“I’m serious! She’s coming to the gala on Friday! I figured it’s time you finally speak to someone who isn’t just family or someone who speaks on criminal code”

Tim groaned and leaned back in his chair, letting his head fall so dramatically against the head rest as if this idea was a total chore to him. “This is really what you came in here for?”

Dicks grin stretched even wider. “You’re smiling! That’s a win already!”

Tim tried to fight it, but a smirk also fought its way into his face. “I’m smiling because this is ridiculous!”

“Interesting…yet you still haven’t said no?”

“I’m not wearing that disgusting musk cologne, if that’s where this is going”

Dick laughed and placed his hands on his slumped shoulders. “It is where it’s going. It smells like success and you wonder why all the ladies come for me”

“Smells like you’re trying too hard to get the ladies”

Tim turned back to his computer, but the smallest flicker of curiosity lingered on his face—well just long enough for Dick to catch it

“Friday.” Dick said with a wink as he backed out of the room

Tim rolled his eyes, not even bothering to argue.

Which, in Dicks mind, meant: Game on

Tim stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt, then his sleeves, then back to the collar for what felt like the tenth time. the tie sat perfectly centered, the sleeves nice and crisp, the suit tailored just right—and still, he was already dreading this.

Or maybe it was the unfamiliar weight of always putting on an expectation. Or the suspicion that this girl—who ever she was—had no idea she was being set up with him which would be embarrassing.

“You ready to head out?” Dicks voice echoed down the long stair case

Tim sighed, straightening up “yup”

He wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a glass of champagne. A few polite conversations with some old rich people. One painfully awkward introduction to this so called “smart, funny, not annoying” girl Dick kept hyping up. Which let’s be honest, translated to another girl who didn’t even bother to start conversations with any one at galas and was raised bratty because of her rich parents that spoiled her, making her have to fake all her interest in life

He’d seen it a thousand times before

smiles that didn’t even reach the eyes, shallow chatter about vacations their parents paid for and fashion, and let’s not forget the girls who can’t tell the difference between a real conversation and a networking opportunity

He wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Let’s go then!” Dick called as he opened the front door, holding it open with a rare quiet moment, watching Tim with a look that was less teasing- now almost sympathetic.

“Alfred’s already in the car” he added as they stepped down into the cool evening air, the sunset was casting warm shadows over the stone steps

Tim turned his head, spotting the sleek black car waiting for the both of them at the end of the drive way, engine already running. He looked down at his shoes—polished, expensive, too shiny for his taste—and let out a breath through his nose.

Just a few hours. Then he’ll be back. Tim glanced sideways at Dick, just in time to catch him putting on his signature smile. The kind that made him look charming, and kind, somewhat approachable…and like he was ready to flirt with half the guest list.

This made Tim force a smile of his own, though his version looked more like someone kindly trying to survive

“Alright” Dick muttered under his breath, already reaching for a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “We greet everyone, pretend we care about their vacation homes, maybe have a drink or two, and then we split.”

He handed a glass to Tim, who took it without a comment. No mention of the girl—and honestly, Tim figured that part was already forgotten. Dick was scanning the crowd like the social butterfly he is, and Tim? Tim just wanted to get through the night

His eyes skimmed over the room that shined with gold scattered every nook and cranny of the house. Velvet curtains that hung like stage props, and in the center, a statue of a naked man because of course there was. He followed behind Dick like a shadow, mimicking his greets, shaking hands, nodding along at the same recycled small talk.

Everyone looked the same. Talked the same. Smelled like old money and thought they were the shit

Until—

Dick suddenly stopped.

Tim didn’t. Bumping into him lightly from behind. “Dude—“

“Oh! Right! Tim—this is the girl I wanted you to meet!” Dick said, grinning, completely unbothered. He motioned between the two of you, then gave Tim a Quick Look that screamed don’t blow this, before stepping aside

Tim turned—and completely froze.

You were stunning.

Not just like Gala-pretty. Not expensive dress pretty. You were actual pretty. Real. Your dress fit you like it was sewn by magic, hugging every curve effortlessly. Your hair was perfectly styled, but not like you were trying too hard—it looked soft. Like so soft he was tempted to just touch it right then and there

And your face—God, your face. You weren’t just beautiful. You were fucking breathtaking.

Tim blinked, scrambling in his head to start talking again

“H-hi” he said, offering his hand, his voice quieter than intended over all the speaking and the gentle piano that was playing some where upstairs. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled, warm and genuine, and slid your hand into his. Making a perfect fit

“It’s nice to meet you too! I’ve heard a lot about you from your brother Di-“

You paused, glancing to the side, only to realize Dick had already vanished into the crowd. Probably chatting up someone three feet away

You looked back at Tim, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Wow. He just ditched us.”

Tim let out a quiet breath of laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Classic.”

He glanced down at his shoes, pretending they were more fascinating than you, which sounded like an actual joke, really.

“I’m Tim. Uh. You probably already knew that” he said quickly, making him wince at himself and his actions. “Sorry my brother never actually told me your name”

You gave it, and Tim instinctively repeated in his head—first name, then last, then imagined scribbling it next to his own like an idiot before quickly getting the thought out of his head

God, what was wrong with him.

But then you laughed again—soft, effortlessly—and it really hit him like static electricity across the skin. Not forced. Not shallow. Real.

Shortly you and Tim made your way to the ballroom, following the crowd. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Tim shifted on his feet, glancing at your face, then immediately away like it was too much to look at you for more than two seconds.

“So…” he started, awkwardly swirling the champagne in his glass. “You, uh…you come to these things often?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced. Really Tim? What the fuck did did you just say

matter a fact that was probably the worst thing to say

You smiled anyway, warm and unbothered. “Only when bribed. Or guilt-tripped. Tonight was both.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, relived. “Same, honestly. I think Dick promised me ‘character development’ or something”

You tilted your head slightly, amused. “Are you saying I’m part of your personal growth arc?”

His ears went pink. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. Not that you’re not…helpful. Or, I mean—

“you’re probably great for my growth!” Ew. What growth? Where is she helping him grow? “That sounded weird.”

You laughed softly, and for the first time, Tim let himself smile, like for real smile. You weren’t laughing at him. You just had this…ease to you. Like you weren’t expecting him to perform or be charming or even make sense. You were just here. And present. And kind.

“I’m really not great at this” he admitted, eyes flicking up to yours

“At conversations?”

“At, um…this” he gestured around vaguely. “Talking to gorgeous strangers at charity galas”

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off-guard for the first time tonight

“Wow” you said, playfully, “was that your official flirt?”

Tim looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. “I—I didn’t mean it like—well, I did, but—“

“Relax” you said, smiling. “It was sweet. Unexpected. But sweet.”

He let out a breath and gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “I think ive said more words to you in five minutes than I have to anyone all week”

You sipped your champagne. “I’ll try not to take that personally”

“I meant that in a good way.”

He paused. Then, with a brave glance towards you, the words finally left his mouth

“I like your laugh.”

You looked at him, really looked at him and your smile some how softened even more at his sweet words that spilled from his mouth. “Thank you Tim.”

That was the first time he let himself fully hold your gaze. And to his surprise—it didn’t feel overwhelming. It felt grounding.

You leaned in slightly, voice a little softer, and lower, like you were letting him on a secret.

“You’re not nearly as bad as this as you think”

Tim looked at you, heart awkwardly thudding between his ribs.

He didn’t say anything.

But the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth said everything.

The music continued to swell behind the both of you—some elegant waltz that no one was really dancing to and a fresh wave of laughter rippled from a nearby group of socialites. It was sooooo loud. Overwhelming. The kind of atmosphere that made Tim feel like he was wearing a mask and being suffocated

He shifted again, his fingers tapping against the side of his glass. Then he glanced over at you, his voice just a little quiet and shyer this time

“Hey” he started, clearing his throat “would you,um…”

You looked up at his taller figure, your brows lighting in slight curiosity

He scratched the back of his neck. “Would you maybe wanna go somewhere quieter? I mean just for a bit. There’s a balcony down the hall, and uh…”

He paused, as his eyes flickered away from you

“It’s less crowded. No curtains that you could trip over. Or naked marble statues.”

You smiled instantly, clearly amused and clearly not saying no

“Is this your way is escaping the party or escaping me?” You teased gently

Tims eyes widened. “No! I mean—no. Definitely not the second one”

Then, realizing how fast he had said it, he looked away once again

“That sounded way more desperate than I meant it to”

You laughed while nodding

“I’d love to…”

You leaned in just slightly like before, giving him a reassuring smile. “Lead the way, Mr. Drake”

And just like that, he couldn’t stop the tiny, stunned grin on his face from your words and thought about you being “Mrs.Drake”

He set his glass down on the edge of a table and offered you his arm—slightly awkward, and unsure, but sweet in a way that made your heart flutter.

Obviously you took it without hesitation

As the two of you slipped through the hallway toward the quieter side, Tim’s pulse was racing.

But the further you and Tim walked down the hallway, the quieter the world became. The buzz of the gala faded into a distant hum behind closed doors, replaced by a softer sound of the music now becoming just a soft tapping noise from afar

Tim led you to a tall pair of glass doors, his steps slowing a bit almost as if he was second guessing himself. Then, with a soft breath, he opened one and gestured you to go first

The night air was cool and refreshing, brushing over your skin like a gentle exhale. You stepped onto the balcony and immediately felt the difference—it was like actually quiet out here. Peaceful too. The city lights flickered in the distance, but the air felt still, like the world had paused for just a moment for the both of you to enjoy your moment together

“Okay” you said with a small smile “yeah…this is definitely better”

Time let out a breath that was almost a laugh as he joined you at the railing “told you…”

You both stood there for a second, just taking it in. The cool stone beneath your hands, the wind weaving through the ivy-covered railings, the slight chill in the air that made you pull your arms a little closer to your body.

“This your usual gala escape route?” You asked, glancing over at him

“Something like that.” He said, shrugging “I’ve never really been good at the whole… mingling thing”

“Could’ve fooled me” you teased gently

He looked at you then, kind of like he wasn’t sure if you were just being nice—but also he really wanted to believe you

“I think I just got lucky tonight” he said, his voice softer now “you’re…easy to talk to”

You smiled at that, warm and honest. “You are too, once you stop overthinking like every other word”

He let out a quiet, slightly embarrassed laugh. “Yeah”

Then, noticing the way you rubbed your arms against the breeze, he quietly shrugged off his suit jacket. “Here”

You blinked.

“What? No—Tim, you don’t have to—“

“I want to” he said, gently holding it out “you’re cold”

You hesitated only for a moment before taking it. The jacket was warm, soft, and smelled faintly like his delicious cologne that you could get used to—something clean and subtle, like cedar and rain

You looked up at him, touched by the simple gesture “thank you…”

Then—before he could say anything else—you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek

Tim froze.

His breath caught like he hadn’t expected that at all, and for a second he just… stood there, eyes wide, hand hovering awkwardly at his side like he didn’t know what to do with it anymore

He cleared his throat “you’re welcome”

You laughed, and something about it—gentle and unforced—made him finally relax once again

Tim hadn’t moved much since the cheek kiss. He was still standing there, jacketless in the breeze.

You glanced at him, and for finally the first time that night, he didn’t look away

His eyes were soft, thoughtful…a little nervous

“Your lips are… really soft.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty

He panicked slightly, his words tumbling over each other. “I-I mean—not that I expected them to be not soft—sorry, that sounded—ugh”

You tilted your head, amused

“And you, um… you smelled really nice. When you got close. I noticed. Not in a weird way. Just—like…good”

What he actually wanted to say is that yeah sure you smelt good but you also smelt delicious and so edible. A smell that he could get used to lingering on his clothes or on in his bed

He gave you a painfully awkward, half- shrugging smile, clearly regretting everything he just said but too far gone to back out now

You took a step closer

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re cute”

He swallowed hard. His eyes flickering down to your lips, than back to your eyes

He didn’t say anything

But God could you feel it

He wanted to kiss you.

And you were just leaning in—your fingers brushing against his, breath mingling in the soft space between you—when…

SLAM.

The balcony door swung open…

“DUDE—there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere—oh.”

Dick froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him like he’d just walked in on an episode of a show he wasn’t supposed to be watching

You and Tim slightly jumped, instinctively putting a little distance between each other like two teenagers caught sneaking snacks past curfew

Dick looked between you, then at Tim’s red face, then at you again—then back to Tim

His grin spread way too fast.

“…don’t let me interrupt” he said, clearly enjoying this.

Tim didn’t even look at him. He just stared at the floor, the corner of his mouth twitching in pure pain.

“I hate you” Tim mumbled under his breath

Dick chuckled and gave a casual wave. “Anyway, people are heading out. Alfred’s waiting. Just figured I’d be the responsible sibling and drag you out of your romantic hidey- hole”

Tim closed his eyes briefly. He knew this was going to come back to haunt him.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh

Dick lingered in the doorway for a second longer, smirking like he was taking a mental snapshot of this exact moment for future blackmail. Then he disappeared inside, proud of himself for setting his brother up, then proud for his brother for actually making a move

The door clicked shut again.

“Well…” he muttered,not knowing what else to say

You reached out, gently brushing your fingers against his again.

“It’s okay” you said softly. “Maybe next time?”

He liked the sound of next time

But that didn’t mean Tim forgot about how his brother literally just walked in

“He’s never letting me live this down.”

You smiled. “Honestly? You’ll survive”

You both turned to head back inside, your shoulder brushing his arm in that quiet, lingering way that made his heart skip again. Just before you reached the doors, you paused and turned back towards him

“Oh—wait.” You pulled out your phone from your clutch. “Can I get your number?”

Tim blinked like it hadn’t even occurred to him that you wanted it. “Y-Yeah! Of course. Uh— yeah.”

He fumbled for his own phone, nearly dropping it before finally managing to open his contacts

You laughed as you typed your name into his phone, handing it back to him with a small, satisfied nod. “There. Now you don’t have to wait for me at the next gala!”

He glanced down at your contact name. It glowed on the screen like something important. Precious, even.

He looked back up.

You were already smiling at him.

And then—Tim smiled back at you of course

From down the hall, Dick shouted one more time

“TIM!”

You both quickly bursted out laughing

And as you walked walked back towards the chaos, toward the rest of the night, toward whatever came next

You were smiling.

And so was he.

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯/𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘺 @toastray