It’s a Bad Idea, Right? - Tim Drake · Y/n story by @quietknight

The city hummed below, a distant symphony of sirens and traffic, but up here, in the warm cocoon of your apartment, the only sound was the creak of the bed frame and the ragged rhythm of breath.

Tim Drake

a low, breathless laugh escapes him as he shifts his weight, dragging a groan from you You're so tight tonight.

His hips rolled against yours, a slow, deliberate grind that had you arching off the mattress. The lamp on the nightstand cast long shadows across the room, catching the sharp lines of his jaw and the faint bruise on his ribs—a souvenir from patrol he hadn't bothered to explain.

Tim Drake

voice rough, almost a whisper Whatever you're thinking about, stop. I want you right here with me.

His hand slid down your side, fingers digging into the curve of your hip, guiding you into a faster rhythm that made the headboard knock against the wall.