𝑁𝑜𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎

NAVIGATION ⌕

☘︎ ݁˖ Jason doesn’t consider himself a jealous man. I mean, sure, he’s had his moments, but he’s not the possessive type… or at least that’s what he thought until he saw you laughing in that sweet, carefree way with another guy.

"What’s so funny? Must’ve been one hell of a joke for you to throw your head back like that, huh?" He crosses his arms, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burn with something he refuses to call jealousy.

☘︎ ݁˖ He starts showing his jealousy in ways that are ridiculously obvious and far from subtle. If the guy talking to you comes back, Jason suddenly turns into your personal bodyguard. He stands too close, pulls you against him, and casually drops lines like:

"Oh, sorry, man, but my girlfriend’s kinda busy right now. Busy being mine."

☘︎ ݁˖ If the guy doesn’t take the hint, Jason steps up his game. Suddenly, his hand is on your waist, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he murmurs, low enough for only you to hear:

"You know that if you keep smiling at him like that, I’m gonna have to remind you exactly who’s the only man allowed to make you smile like that, right?"

☘︎ ݁˖ He has this habit of interrupting questionable conversations. If you’re talking to another guy and Jason thinks it’s dragging on for too long, he suddenly appears out of nowhere, pulling you into a breathtaking kiss. When he finally pulls away, he glances at the other guy and says:

"Oh, sorry. You were saying something? ‘Cause I kinda stopped caring."

☘︎ ݁˖ When you notice his jealousy and start teasing him on purpose, Jason finds himself torn between being absolutely pissed and utterly turned on.

"If you think teasing me like this is gonna go unpunished… well, I hope you don’t have any plans tonight, ‘cause I’m about to remind you just how much you belong to me."

☘︎ ݁˖ But despite all the drama, jealousy, and possessiveness, Jason always makes sure you know why he feels that way. In a quiet moment, with you curled up against his chest, he slides his fingers through your hair and murmurs:

"It’s not that I don’t trust you, baby… It’s just that the thought of another man touching you, looking at you the way I do… makes me wanna remind everyone that you belong to me. And only me."

so, werewolf Jason Todd.

Jason was standing in the middle of the room, looking like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes were slightly wide, mouth slightly open, one gloved finger raised as if he were about to say something brilliant. But… nothing.

You watched him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. Nothing.

“Jay?”

No response.

“Jason.”

Blink. Nothing.

You sighed and stepped closer, snapping your fingers in front of his face.

“For fuck’s sake, Todd, did you glitch?”

He finally blinked again, turning his gaze to you with a half-confused, half-offended look. “Huh? What? No, I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

Jason frowned, clearly focused. Then, he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly.

“Shit. I don’t remember.”

You blinked slowly. “What do you mean you don’t remember?”

He closed his eyes, digging through his mind, then opened them again, now with a determined gleam. “No, wait, it was something important. Like… really important.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It couldn’t have been that important if you forgot.”

Jason pointed at you, looking on the verge of a grand revelation. “No! That’s exactly what worries me! If it was important and I forgot, something is seriously wrong.”

You sighed, already familiar with his dramatic streak. “Jay, there’s no way you forgot something that crucial in two minutes.”

He ran a hand over his face, mumbling something inaudible. Then, he suddenly froze, eyes wide.

“Fuck.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I forgot the fucking ring.”

Silence.

You blinked. “What ring?”

Jason blinked back, realization hitting him like a truck. He went pale.

Your mouth slowly opened. “Oh my God.”

Jason ran a hand through his hair, looking absolutely panicked. “I was gonna propose to you.”

More silence.

“And you forgot?”

His eyes widened even more, as if the guilt weighed a ton. “I left the ring in the goddamn Batcave.”

You crossed your arms, biting your lip to hold back laughter.

He rubbed his face again. “Shit. I’m such an idiot.”

And then you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Laughter escaped before you could stop it, growing louder by the second. Jason looked at you, utterly offended.

“You’re laughing? I screwed everything up, and you’re laughing?”

“Jay, you… you forgot your own proposal!” you said between giggles.

He huffed, crossing his arms. “I had this whole beautiful speech planned and everything. But no, my brain decided to fucking crash in the middle of the process.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Then, you smiled. “Alright, Todd. Wanna try again?”

Jason opened his mouth, hesitated, closed it.

“… After I get the damn ring.”

And bolted out the door.

Mark couldn't stop staring at you.

There was something mesmerizing about the way you leaned against the kitchen counter, distracted by your phone, your lips slightly parted as you nibbled on a piece of fruit. He should have been getting ready for patrol, checking the news, or at least putting on his boots. But all he could do was watch.

You noticed. Of course, you noticed.

"You're staring at me" your voice carried a smile, without even needing to look up from the screen.

Mark smiles too, crossing his arms as he slowly approaches.

"You distract me"

Now, you look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I distract you?"

He nods, his eyes darkening slightly as he watches the curve of your mouth lift in provocation.

"Like... a lot."

"Oh, really?" Your tone is playful, but your breath is already different.

Mark leans over the counter, getting closer, and his scent hits you — something subtle but enveloping, making him want to get even closer. His fingers gently touch the edge of the counter, almost hesitant, as if fighting the urge to pull you toward him right there.

"If I say it, is it going to sound wrong?"

"Probably" Your smile is teasing, but he notices how your fingers tighten around your phone, how your throat moves as you swallow.

His gaze drops to your lips. Then, to the exact spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Mark doesn't hesitate any longer.

He moves quickly, a blur of blue and yellow, until your bodies are pressed together. His hands find your waist, firm, as he tilts his head and brushes his lips against yours — no rush, no urgency. Just a touch, warm and tempting.

You inhale deeply, and Mark smiles against your mouth before pulling you into a real kiss.

The first touch is slow, almost hesitant, but then he feels your response, your fingers moving up to his neck, burying into his hair. He lets out a soft moan against your lips, and the hesitation fades in an instant.

The kiss deepens, your lips sliding against his with a growing hunger. Mark slides one of his hands along the curve of your waist, possessive, before moving it up your back. The other hand tightens around your neck, fingers firm as he tilts his head for better access.

You sigh into his mouth, and he responds by nibbling on your lower lip, pulling it gently before letting go and returning to a kiss even more intense.

When you separate for a moment, both of you are panting.

"You don’t have patrol now?" Your voice comes out low, almost husky.

Mark slides his nose along your cheek, moving down to your jawline before dragging his lips slowly over your neck. A kiss. Two. The third comes with a soft sigh from him against your skin.

"I do."

But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he presses a kiss to the spot where he feels your pulse racing, feeling the shiver run through your body as his mouth lingers there.

He returns to your lips, and this time the kiss is different — lazy, tempting, as if he’s savoring every second. When he sucks your lower lip again, your breaths mix, hot and unsteady.

"But you distract me."

The way he repeats the words, his voice thick and low, makes it clear that patrol has already been forgotten.

And this time, you don’t mind one bit.

My babyyy

Babygirl

The light streamed through the window in golden beams, cutting through the silence of the room. You couldn't move—just sit at the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress sink under the weight of the emptiness consuming you. The sheets beside you were still wrinkled, but cold. He hadn’t slept here last night.

The phone buzzed relentlessly on the nightstand. You knew who it was. You knew that if you answered, you’d hear his trembling voice, thick with guilt. But there was nothing Mark could say. Not after what you had seen.

You closed your eyes, and the scene came back with brutal clarity. His touch on her skin, fingers fitting so naturally as if they had belonged together from the start. Atom Eve. It had always been her. She had always been there—in the glances that lasted a second too long, in the way he said her name, in the hesitation whenever you asked him something too simple to require a pause.

The irony was that you never wanted to compete. You never wanted to fight to keep someone who was supposed to love you. But in the end, there was no fight. You had lost before you even realized.

The phone vibrated again. Another message.

"Please, pick up. I need to talk to you."

You picked up the device, staring at the words on the screen, searching for something inside yourself beyond this hollow, frozen void in your chest. But there was nothing.

You remembered last night, the desperate words that spilled from his lips, the hands that tried to hold you back when you walked away.

"I can explain."

"You don’t have to."

Mark had gone silent, eyes wide as if he were about to drown. But you had already drowned alone a long time ago.

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did."

Silence was the last answer he got before you left.

Now, sitting here under the morning light, everything felt motionless, as if time had frozen. You ran your fingers over the sheets, feeling the rough texture beneath your fingertips. Sheets that, until yesterday, had been a safe place. Now, they were just another empty space.

The bedroom door remained shut, as if keeping the world outside could prevent reality from catching up to you. But it was already here. Already inside you, weighing on your shoulders, rooting itself in your skin.

The phone buzzed again. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to find the strength to ignore it, but the screen kept glowing, insistent, demanding your attention.

"Let me see you, just one last time."

The words twisted something inside you, but not in the way he had hoped. One last meeting? For what? To say goodbye? To lie one more time?

You deleted the message.

Resting your elbows on your knees, you let your face fall into your hands, exhaustion sinking into your bones. You didn’t cry. The tears had already been left behind, trapped somewhere between pain and relief.

Outside, the sun kept shining, indifferent.