#bites steel chews concrete ..... LORD.

[yuwuta]

would yuuji and yuuta go down on reader at the same time??

i keep trying to answer this ask coherently but every time i look at it i start barking like this is so beyond sick and twisted i cannot stop to think about this for more than a few seconds without blacking out what the fuck what the fuck wsaht the fvck

[drakenology]

www.pornscape.com/janitors-closet-kirishima

janitor’s closet - kirishima x reader

categories: cunnilingus, blow job, riding, exhibitionism, slight degradation, unprotected sex, cussing, cervix kissin’, nasty hook up in the janitor’s closet.

author’s note: welcome to the pornscape! i hope you guys enjoy this event and this piece as well. please check out the others who have participated and as always, cum again ;). read the other works here

Hanamura Corp; a place known for legitimate business. Every employee including yourself was very capable of their job and it was wonderful to be a part of. But God was it fucking boring. Everyone there just ignored each other, did their job and clocked out once their shift was done and over with. With the exception of a few women you’d talk to around break time,  The entire building was often so quiet you forgot other people worked there.

One thing that made your job a little bit exciting was the escapades that took place every Wednesday in the janitor’s closet. The janitor who worked mostly Wednesdays was quite possibly the most gorgeous man to walk those halls.

Ejiro Kirishima; a sweetheart who worked as a janitor here at Hanamura Corp for a few years now. What he was doing working as a janitor and as not a male model was a mystery.

He was tall; 6′11 to be exact, with long red hair he often had tied back in a messy bun, strands of his hair cheekily escaping from the sides. Not to mention his body. Eijiro was an absolute beast of a man; his entire body was ripped. His arms were gigantic and covered in tattoos. The women of the facility often gossiped about the ginormous janitor who came by their cubicles with a warm smile and a tip of his cap. 

“God, he’s so sexy. I’d like to just jump his fucking bones.”

“I wonder what he’s like in bed. Probably an insatiable beast.”

“I just know his dick is huge. Fuck, I can only imagine.”

She guessed right. His dick is huge. How do you know that? Because you’re the one fucking him in the Janitor’s closet every so often. Every Wednesday when he worked, he’d walk past your cubicle and tap you on the shoulder. You’d turn and practically drool at the sight of him, knowing that in a few hours you’d be getting railed until you can hardly walk back to your desk. How this became so routine? Hell, you’ve long since forgotten. But who gives a fuck about the details?

“See you at noon?” He’d whisper in your ear, chuckling when you nod meekly. 12 o’clock was the time everyone usually took their lunch break which had proven to be the perfect time to get fucked on the job.

Once the clock struck 12, you slide your panties off under your desk and tuck them in your briefcase, a rule set by Kirishima to ensure that your cunt is exposed and ready for his filling. You walk towards the janitor’s closet; the one next to the women’s room and stand there to wait, awkwardly waving at the women who came out of the restroom with a weird stare. Suddenly the door opens and someone pulls you inside. 

Finally. He kissed you hard, his big stern hands grabbing and caressing your ass as if he owned you and everything attached to you. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist when he lifts you and pins you against the cold steel supply shelf. “Miss me, gorgeous?” Kirishima asks, his lips ghosting over yours as he hikes your skirt up over your ass, biting his lip when he feels you’re completely bare underneath. 

“You’re such a little slut for me, taking your panties off to come and get fucked in the janitor’s closet.” He starts kissing your neck, nibbling slightly to mark you just a little; he can’t help himself. 

You’re already getting so hot, your slick pooling at his fingertips as they run along your folds. He stands you on your feet and turns you around, getting down on his knees to worship your ass. His hands slap each cheek firmly, causing you to flinch and lean into the wall, ass sticking out for him. 

Before you can speak, his hands spread your ass apart, spitting onto your pussy. His tongue starts lapping up your slick folds as his hands squeeze your ass, your nails digging into your palms as you groan into your sleeves. You’re mewling so much you could swear someone could hear you, Kirishima’s thick fingers now sliding inside you while he stands on his feet. 

“Gotta get that tight cunt ready for me, baby. You like that?” He huffs into your hair, pumping his fingers inside you at a slow pace. You nod as you back your hips into his hand, Kirishima grabbing one hip to keep you still. 

“So eager. Stay still would, ya?” Kirishima taunts, speeding up his fingers as he smacked you ass to scold you. You yelp, the sting from the hit fading into blinding pleasure as he fingered you, your cunt squelching and making obscene  noises as you feel your legs turn to pudding. 

“Kiri I c-can’t, you’re gonna make me c-cum!” You whine, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“That’s the idea. Mm, cum all over my fucking fingers.” He urged, his fingers diving deeper into your greedy walls, your cunt sucking him inside as you cum with a hard clench. Kirishima smirked and pulled his fingers out of you, sticking them into his mouth with a moan at your flavor. 

“Good fuckin’ girl. On your knees.” He demands, pointing towards the floor. You obliged, moaning when you see him take his cock out of his uniform pants. Good lord, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing it in all its glory.

He was impossibly thick and long, prominent veins running along the shaft and a perfectly soft and spongey head; the one that kissed your cervix with every thrust. You open your mouth for him, tongue lolling out as he sticks his cock inside. Your lips wrap around him, moaning at the taste of his skin as you bob your head. Kirishima takes a fistful of your hair and fucks your throat, hissing when you gag and drool all over his cock. Your hands start grabbing at your breasts, unbuttoning your top to pull them outside of your bra. 

“God, look at you..” Kirishima groans, you giggling when he pulls you off his cock with a lewd “pop” sound. “Such a dirty girl.” Kirishima takes his thick cock and slaps it against your wet lips, pressing between them to get your mouth open again. Sucking him off got you so wet; the sounds of slurping and gagging. All of his dirty words laced with pleasurable grunts stirred your insides as your cunt ached with need.

Every time his cock hit the back of your throat you moan, reaching your hand down to help relieve the ache in your core. 

“Shit..” Eijiro moans at the state of you, a usually prim and proper business woman on her knees for him looking so fucking sloppy. 

It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, taking his hand to pinch and play with your nipples as you suckle on his dick head, taking it and slapping it against your tongue with a love struck look in your eye.

He burned that image of you in his mind, wanting to revisit this moment later when he was alone while bucking his hips to get you to wrap those soft lips around his cock again. Your fingers rub lazy circles on your swollen clit, moaning around his dick as he fucked your mouth. 

“So fucking sexy, baby.” He hissed, pulling his cock from your lips and sitting on his haunches. 

“C’mere.” He demands, slapping his thighs to get you to sit in his lap. You straddle his waist, his length resting on your slick cunt. He grinds your hips against his, the under side of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit with a groan. Kirishima lowers his hand and gives you the filling you’ve been craving all week, pressing his length against your weeping hole and pulling your hips down onto his length. 

The dull stretch caused you to grab onto his shoulders and hold tight, bouncing on his cock slowly to adjust to his monster of a cock. It was all so delicious; Kiri running his thumb along your swollen bud with a satisfied grunt. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming already, Eiji- shit!” You wail, breathy moans leaving your lips as he ruts his hips upwards, one of his big hands grabbing at your breast, the other rubbing your clit in soft circles. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby..” He groans, rolling your hips into his as his hands run along your soft ass, striking it harshly. You’re drooling into his shoulder, holding onto the shelf that contained cleaning supplies for good measure, trying to keep up with his movements. With all the shaking, all the cleaning products started toppling over, loud clangs of the metal shelf echoing through the small closet to mask your loud moans. 

You both let out breathy half giggles, melting into each other’s bodies as Kirishima reached up to wrap your hair around his hand to yank it, attacking your now exposed neck with hot kisses and nibbles. He stands on his feet, fingers pressed into your ass to keep a tight grip on you as he lowered you onto his cock. You see stars as Eijiro picks you up and drops you onto his thick cock, scrambled sentences leaving your mouth as your mouth hangs open in bliss.

Kirishima kicks over a bucket, the stupid thing in his path as he pressed your bare back against the cold concrete wall. He rolls his hip into yours, lips wrapped around one of your nipples, nibbling lightly. Grunting and high pitched whines fill the closet, your bodies practically sticking together from the heat you both omitted. Tongues intertwined with each other, hands traveling along naked skin as he hit your g-spot over and over again in a blind rage. 

“F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum for you, baby.” you squeal, toes curling so hard you feel a cramp coming on; Kirishima bucking into with more fervor as you both reach a climax. 

“’M gonna cum inside you. Gonna make you my fuckin’ cum dump.” He huffed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with every hit against your cervix. 

You both grunt; Kirishima painting your insides white as he rests you both onto the floor, grinding his hips a few more times before pulling out his flaccid form. Your back laid flat on the cold floor, looking up at him with clouded eyes from all the tears you shed from your encounter. Sex with Kirishima made working at this stuffy place so much more worth it. As he looked down at you he helped fix your clothes, the timer on his watch beeping to signal it was time to get back to work. 

“Ya know, we don’t have to wait to see each other once a week. I could fuck you like this every day, every night...” Eijiro said, wiping the sweat from your brow. 

“Are you asking me out?” You tease, sitting up to button up your shirt.

“Depends.. are you saying yes?” He asks, raising his eyebrow as he adjusts his pants.

“Maybe.”

[nightglider124]

5.000 Prompt #4 & #120 - Jinx X Kid Flash, please!

Nice. Er… the first one is probs a little shite; I really struggled with the prompt and idk why. 

Second one had me smiling whilst I wrote it tho.

And I know Wally in TTA has blue eyes but I really prefer him having green eyes like in YJ. Oh well, sue me. 

These are a fair bit shorter than any of my robstar ones but hey, there are 2 in this reply so.

Hope ya like them.

“You are going to have to eat something if you want to run from cops all day.”

It was warm, thesunlight drenching everything in its path. An interesting thing considering itwas getting on towards the middle of Fall. The orange and brown leaves had mostlyalready fallen to the ground, crunching beneath people’s feet.

Good things were ontheir way like Halloween and Thanksgiving and the nights were getting coolerand crisper; perfect weather for snuggling up to loved ones with hot cocoa.

Wally smiled as hisgreen eyes scanned the windows of the shops they were passing. He had so manyideas for Christmas presents but he was still about 2 months early so he was restraininghimself all he could.

He rolled hisshoulders beneath his red and yellow coat, flexing his fingers that wereintertwined with his girlfriend’s. He looked over at the pink haired beauty inquestion who had her eyes on the sidewalk they were walking upon.

It was nice thatthey could go out together without bothering with disguises or holorings. Thetown they’d chosen to call home together was quiet and whilst they savedinnocents when necessary, the public nor police tended to make connections orreally take an interest; a vast difference to Jump or even Steel city.

She must haverealised he was staring at her because she turned her head toward him,smirking, “What’re you looking at?” She asked, with a mock attitude.

“Just some hottie.”He replied, flashing his teeth as he grinned,

“Loser.” Shelaughed, rolling her eyes.

Jinx suddenlysniffed the air, the delicious aroma of food filling her nostrils, “Wal, do yousmell that?”

He inhaled thesmell of greasy fast food and smiled, “Oooh… hot dogs…”

As they turned thecorner of the street, they located the source. There was a silver trailer withan open front, a sign on the top and a crowd nearby. They could hear the radiobeing played whilst the cook did his job and the sizzling of fries and burgerson the grill were unmistakable.

Wally sped up,dragging Jinx with him. She smiled and rolled her eyes; she often wondered ifthere was ever a time that he wasn’t thinking about food.

He halted in frontof the fast food trailer, his eyes roaming over the menu whilst licking hislips. After what felt like forever, he finally nodded to himself and smiled,

“What do you want,babe?” Wally asked, eyeing Jinx.

“Just a hot dog,thanks.” She murmured, leaning into him a little,

Wally grinned atthe man inside, “Can I get 3 regular hot dogs please?” He asked, gaining anaffirmative nod from the vendor and forked over the cash,

Jinx’s bright eyeswidened and she pulled away to stare at him incredulously, “Seriously? You’regonna eat 2 hot dogs?”

He snorted, “Why doyou sound surprised?”

“I’m not. You’rejust ridiculous.”

“You’re justjealous because my metabolism is waaay faster than yours.”

“Uh-huh, that’s it.You got me.” She muttered, shaking her head,

After a fewminutes, the chef handed one hot dog to Jinx and the other two to the redheadedboy himself. Wally thanked him and the two continued to walk down the streettogether.

Before they’d evenmade 3 blocks, Wally had finished his first hot dog and was onto his second.Jinx, who was halfway through her sole hot dog, raised her eyebrows,

“Where do you evenput it?”

Wally chuckled,taking a huge bite of his secondary hot dog, “I told ya. It burns off before iteven digests meaning I never lose my abs.”

Jinx narrowed hereyes at his stomach, “Abs? Where? I don’t see them.”

He scowled at her, “Ha-Ha.You’re funny.”

She smiled and tookanother bite of her food, “I know.”

As they wandered, acomfortable silence befell them for a short time as the two simply ate theirfood. They reached the end of the street which led to an open park and stopped,Jinx swallowing her last bite of hot dog, scrunching up the napkin and throwingit in the trashcan outside the gates of the park.

“Y’know, it’sprobably a good thing you’ve eaten a lot anyway…” Jinx mentioned, slyly,

Wally paused beforehe could take his last bite. His eyes swiveled to her, unnerved, “Why?” Heasked, skeptical,

She smirked as shestared ahead at the park, “Oh no reason…” She paused, “you are going to have to eat something if you want to run from cops allday.”

By this point hehad finished off his hot dog but passed mid chew to stare at her wide eyed, “What?Why would we be running from police?”

Jinx shrugged, coyand tilted her head from side to side, “Do you remember that diamond bracelet Iwas looking at in the jewelry store?”

Wally slowly nodded,dabbing his face with the napkin cautiously, completely thrown by the thingsshe was saying,

She smirked, thatsignature mischievous glint in her eyes, “Well,it was so expensive but I reallywanted it so…” She scuffed her toe against the concrete briefly,

Whilst Jinx hadreformed and mainly did good things, working as a hero rather than a criminals,she was a bit of a loose cannon and occasionally relapsed on her promises ofnot stealing ever again.

His eyes widened tothe size of dinner plates and he felt his heart drop and a case of nerves buildin his chest instead, “Jinxy, you didn’t-”

“No!”

Momentarily reliefsurged through him, “Oh-”

“You did.”

He almost fell onhis ass, he was so surprised, “What!?”

She gave him aslow, naughty little grin, “Check your pocket.”

Gulping, Wally slida hand down into his coat pocket. He closed his eyes and cringed as hisfingertips brushed over the smoothness of the diamond bracelet. He shook hishead, struggling to form words to reprimand her,

“Jinx! You know wedon’t steal-”

She rolled hereyes, “Being good is okay and all but sometimes, I miss the rush of being acriminal, that’s all.”

Wally flinched ather flippant behaviour, “That’s all!?”

“Will you shut upand start walking already?”

“Why?”

She smirked, “Don’tyou hear the police sirens? We gotta get going if we don’t wanna be caught.”

He merely blinkedat her, his mouth hanging agape as disbelief consumed him. She giggled and spunaround on her heel, sprinting through the gates of the park.

Now that shementioned it, those sirens were getting awfully close. His heart startingbeating rapidly and he gulped, shaking his head and chasing after hisgirlfriend,

“Jinxy! Get backhere!” He called after her, frantically looking back to keep an eye on thosepolice cars closing in,

He really lovedJinx but boy, did she like to throw one hell of a curve ball sometimes.

“I’m not trying to threaten you.” “Well I do feel pretty fucking threatened!”

Licking his barefingers free of pizza grease, Wally smiled lazily to himself, momentarilysatisfied by the entire pepperoni pizza he had just stuffed down his throat. Hewiped his hands on the sofa before sighing and leaned back against the pizza.

He heard asimilar sigh but it was more like a sad or unhappy one.

Wally looked overat Jinx who was sitting more or less like he was, her feet up on the edge ofthe coffee table and her hands resting on her slightly bloated tummy, full fromtheir pizza pig out. The boxes lay on the table, empty with nothing but crumbsleft inside.

“You okay, Jinxy?”He asked, speaking through his food coma haze,

She sighed andshook her head,

“What’s wrong?”He asked, suddenly concerned,

“Wally… you maynot like it but… we need to start eating better.”

He blinked beforehe suddenly found himself in a bit of a cold sweat, nerves rocking through him,“Excuse me?”

Jinx rolled hereyes and sat up straight, crossing her legs and turning her entire body towardshim, “Wally-”

He was confused.

“No, seriously.What?”

“The bad foodhabits aren’t good for us. If we keep it up, we’ll never be useful heroes toanyone.” She told him, tilting her head towards him,

He sat upsuddenly, his brows furrowed and he opened and closed his mouth several timeslike a fish out of water, “You must be joking, Jinx. Tell me you’re joking!” Heshrilled,

She cringed and rolledher eyes at him, “I just mean not as much junk, Wally.”

He shook his headminutely, “Look, if this is your way of trying to get me to participate more indaily training, then ya got me. I’ll do it. You don’t have to threaten me!”

Jinx raised aneyebrow at her boyfriend, “What? I’m nottrying to threaten you-”

“Well I do feel pretty fucking threatened!”Wally yelped, looking like someone had snatched his most favourite toy in theworld from him,

Jinx’s face wasblank and she folded her arms over her chest, “You’re overreacting.”

Wally threw hishands up in the air, “Hey, you’re the one trying to take all the joy outta mylife!”

The pink hairedgirl sighed, “Look, I-” She suddenly stopped and frowned, “Wait, junk food isthe only joy in your life, huh?”

His eyes widenedas he realised what he’d just said, “Wait-”

Jinx got to herfeet, her fists on her hips, “That’s it! I’m replacing everything in the fridgewith salad and fruit! How about that!?”

He slapped hishand to his chest, staggering back against the couch, “Jinxy! NO!” He gaspeddramatically, “Don’t… do… it!”

With that, hecollapsed back on the sofa, his arm and leg falling over the back of the seat.He panted harshly, acting like she was effectively killing him.

“Dear lord, don’tlet her do it.”

Jinx’s expressionwas deadpan and she dropped her shoulders as she stared at her boyfriend incomplete disbelief. She shook her head and rolled her eyes,

“Sometimes, I can’tbelieve I’m actually dating you by choice.” She sighed, collecting the pizzaboxes off the table whilst he continued to fake a heart attack over hersuggestion.

[old-castlegachi]

Untitled JaySteph Fic:

I wanted to get this out, mostly for @shauds02 so, see this as an “exclusive” first half of Chapter 1 bc it is fighting me. When it’s done, it’ll be on A03, like all ‘dem others. Either way, I hope you like it!

There is a lot Stephanie Here-To-Kick-Your-Ass Brown can handle.

An infinite anything from mortal wounds to a divine abundance of waffles no mortal could finish. Her point is that if there is an immortal feat no regular mortal can overcome, she had it down, done and deal, signed on that dotted line and took it home with her to do a victory dance and hug it to her chest. It is done, she has it handled and she never quit.

It is one of her faults and she embraced it.

This is all relevant information for what will be explained at her current predicament. It began after an exhaustive patrol where all she wanted was her two poufy duvets, blistering water pressure and the solvent for her flesh wound, it was already two nights old and begun to scab, they really did grow up too fast. Her entire form ached and it felt wonderful, a deed well done in physical personification and with light daring to fall in Gotham, she felt content and calmed.

It was her fault for taking her sweet time back home, humming a little the latest hot beat underneath her breath and already half-jogging her cool down stretches. It was all Red Hood's fault for being pathetic. He murdered people, all anti-hero, I-know-better-than-you-Bruce, when a lot of people knew better than Bruce – for being The Detective, he is an absolute face-plant when it comes to emotions, and people, and on sparing occasions, not-being-an-asshole – but as it stood? Red Hood was pathetic for face-diving into two trash cans and promptly slouching there on the concrete.

It was a very Tim maneuver and she expected Hood to do something else, shift and grunt, or move like human's do, prove his superiority here come on, but no. He stayed face-planted into a puddle on the cold, hard ground – oh, trouble – like a plank that'd fallen down or blanket that'd spilled, and okay, she didn't like it. She didn't like how much he not-moved.

And with curiosity, Good-Samaritan help a buddy out curiosity Stephanie flipped beside the prone form and nudged it with her boot. She cleared her throat, "Um. You should skedaddle before the daylight people come out –" Not even a grunt. Don't make her do this. Don't make her do this, " – I'll call Batman, I swear."

Nothing. Waffle-Iron-it.

It must be serious and "please, don't shoot me; don't shoot me –" was her mantra, wedging her steel-toed boots beneath his ribs and heaved him onto his back. It took a little wobble but thigh-workout's-galore, it worked and the red helmet stared, empty-faced upwards. Her mouth twisted and she shuffled closer, "Oi. You awake in there?" she tested.

In all the traps she's wandered into this is definitely the worse. And, while she's heard Red Hood is all about bad-taste, playing-dead seems to take it too far. So, only option is that beneath that helmet Jason Todd is passed-out like Timmy after a cup of decaf, unconscious for at least six hours and dead to the world or, the actually dead –

No. His chest moved. It's good.

This is bad.

Her three options are all worse than the former because no, she didn't want to call Batman to pick up his wayward son from his playdate with unconscious-makers and she didn't want to abandon him there for daylight pickings. Even if it was a good soul who dragged Red Hood to safety, it wouldn't be 'safety' with the gun-dependent there. Her third option is that Stephanie be the good soul and really, before she's thought about it, she lobbed the Red Hood over her back and shuffled to her apartment.

He weighed scientifically and at the very least, over two trucks worth. That is cement trucks with a prehistoric dinosaur playing rollerblades above. His helmet digs into her ear and his huge trunk-thick arms do not want to stay on her slim shoulders, despite how she bulked them up for exactly this purpose.

Once inside her apartment she breathed relief, straightened to her full height and dumped his self-entitled self on her lumpy couch. Her post-patrol routine, rids the cowl off her face, turns the heater on and stacks a plate of waffles in the microwave before she tuts at the figure prone on her couch. His neck will creak like that.

In care of her hidden attacks, she repositioned his head on the pillow and snapped off his utility belt, yanked off his boots, which stank by the way and dirtied her floor in dried mud and blood, loosened the straps of his Kevlar around his ribs and poked the underside of his helmet. If there was a switch it was unknown to her, besides he already looked better. Not waking-up to demand her lungs and livelihood better but breaths no-longer a death march better, deeper and softer than earlier.

She lightly rapped on his helmet, "You're going to be a little bitch when you wake-up. I can tell," Stephanie told him, following the microwave's ding and digging into her meal-of-kings, licking off syrup and chocolate chips she hummed, dumping dishes into the sink and swallowed down her post-patrol concoction of vitamins and muscle relaxants. Yay, for bat medical feats.

Her routine continued as it usually did a blistering post-patrol shower where she groaned enough for question's sake, blearily rubbed solvent into her wound and wrapped it up present-like, and burrowing into her two living-in-a-fuzzy-cloud duvets before she grunted, rolled out of bed and grabbed one to throw it over Hood because she wasn't evil, okay? And, she couldn't sleep knowing he'd be cold in her care. Stephanie Brown did not do comfort in halves, no sir and no madam.

This world hurt sometimes so for balance's sake constant comforts were required. It is just a truth of life.

Her old nemesis, the shrill alarm-clock, chimed after a pointed two and a half hours, and she sobbed a little and shut it off, groggily rolled out her bed and into the bathroom. Yay, for education. That morning her wrists ached so she clasped warmers on alongside her thickest hoodie, thermos-tights and jeans, shucked into thick socks before shambling into the kitchen for two bowls of cereal and a banana.

If she laid her head against the fridge, cursed the waking world and normative sleeping schedules for a minute that was her business, no one else's – after that, she took the milk out just like any other mortal. On her second brightly colored bowl of fiber love she blinked and found the strewn, lethally inclined utility belt in front of her face.

Other people read the back of cereal boxes or milk cartons, and she'd done that as well, but that morning she picked apart compartments and fiddled with bastardized bat-a-rangs. Her hands strayed to the handguns, heavier than they looked, ambidextrous hold – for the flinging-guns-about fancies – and speckled in blood. Oh yep, she has a murderer on her couch, shouldn't overlook that.

Her hands absently dissembled a handgun, only two bullets in the magazine, before she picked at the other with her foot working overtime to strike a tune, this with four bullets. It had been a productive night then.

Stephanie is in so much trouble and worst bit is, she doesn't even know by whom. Who will kick her ass for this? Herself or Batman? God, don't let it be Babs.

In her living room is a crash and a muffled swear that sounded oddly tiny, well, guess sleeping beauty is up. Did Hood sense his guns out, so figured his sunny disposition had to come out? Okay, yeah, that was bad. Early morning wit workout, it'll catch on. With all this at head, she took down another bowl and spoon and set it at the table before she flopped back into her seat.

So, she hadn't offered her leftover waffles or even the ceramic batman plate which made her snicker each time she wiped golden syrup off his judgmental frown, but it was still luxurious comfort; true to the Stephanie Brown path. And she had a suspicion that like most bats even a comfy kitchen chair will bite him in the ass.

Speak of ass and ass awoke. His scarlet helmet stared. "Morning Red Condom of Death –" That needed some work. Oh well. Stephanie shimmed a box at him, "Lucky Charms?" And, if he decided to grab his lethal-murder weapons and bolt, or even grab them and turn them on her, it'd be his choice. The former was expected for an emotionally-overwhelmed Bat. The latter was more likely but she reckoned she can talk him out of it.

Before her 8:30 class began though, is a question.

Except, Hood's estrangement from bats has done well, and he didn't act like a monkey-nut and sat down at her table. For all the world clueless to how he found himself there. It was pretty hilarious. "You invite every crime-lord for breakfast?" he asked, deeper than she expected with a mechanical slant to it.

"You're not really every crime-lord though, are you, Red Dead Redemption. Look," she said before a hissy-fit could start, "I have to leave for class in five minutes, so either you can leave or you can eat some cereal with me. I don't actually care but don't drama me and make me late." And with an angry crunch she swallowed another spoonful.

His voice lifted, "That's fair."

Then he took of his helmet – button at the back of it, perhaps – and it so was not fair. Stephanie chewed her mouthful, "Huh. You're not that awful-looking," she said. It lacked all tact for bodily welfare but Jason smirked, a tired little huff before he filled his bowl with cereal and chowed it down like popcorn. Stephanie looked at her innocent carton of milk, "I have milk, you know, if you want," she offered.

He shrugged, "Intolerant." Huh. Huh – Huh. Huh. Huh. Each day she lived to learn something new. Like, how his voice was deeper, more filled than she expected. That was definitely new. He cleared his throat, "Thanks." Her thumbs made an appearance of 'it's cool' because she's cool like that.

Less new was how humongous his shoulders are, practically expanding gravity in a five-inch radius if how he slouched wasn't a choice. Like, a smaller man had been pressed into his body to fit. That was a horrifying thought. His darkly tanned skin is thin, scratched by stubble and ripped scrap over a cheek which made him wince every so often, and his black hair is oil-shocked.

His teals are the absolute worst, though.

This is more a mess-of-a-man than Tim. And, he had worked so hard for that right, all for naught. That is a shame, an enflaming burning-hot-fire shame, and whatever will – Jason plodded onto his dirtied hand, stubbled cheek smooshed, "You're going to be late, Blondie," and absently ate another mouthful.

Waffle-Iron-It!

In the race against the clock she grabbed the banana, her pre-prepared lunchbox, a thick coat and was at the door before the call of –"You know you're not wearing shoes, right?" He slouchy leaned in the kitchen arch and she dropped it all, shucked into her shoes and packed it all into her backpack.

"I owe you one –" grabbed her keys and tossed-out, "Close the window on your way out!"

Then Stephanie had sprinted to the station, clambered into the bus seat when it finally – finally, bless the warrior amazons – arrived, re-read the article she needed for her second class, rushed off the bus and into the college, trekked towards her lesson and scampered into the back to fold into a seat just as the Professor began; and the crowd went wild!

Victory! Ah, she is so amazing!

Her hands are elbow-deep in a cow's kidneys and it finally fell into reality. Yes, she had lobbied a murderer into her home, tucked him into bed, bestowed him multi-colored fantastic cereal and left him alone in her home. Her instinct to hiss into her hands is foregone by bloodied guts but still Babs will definitely throw her to the Big Man for this. Then the lecture will growlingly emphasize, 'You are reckless, Stephanie. You aren't qualified to be a solo operative, Stephanie. You could've been killed, Stephanie.' Yeah, yeah Brucie-Bear been there, done that.

A shoulder nudged into hers, "You're muttering to yourself again, Steph." That 'worried' undertone that Stephanie would kidnap a spleen, cause a riot and dab-nab into the night prevalent. Except, this is Gotham, everyone had coping mechanisms Ms. I-Chew-My-Hair-Till-It-Doesn't-Need-A-Wash-Any-More Mace.

Her deep breath mostly smelt of blood and slightly of mildew, the luxurious lifestyle stench of Wayne Manor's water pressure cried out to her, again, and Stephanie huffed: "Thanks, Mace. Keeping me sane in here. Hey, did you understand the D of the pathology assignment? It is literally kicking my cute tosh…" No, she hadn't.

Dagnab-it.

In the wise words of a talking chicken, the sky is falling by the time Stephanie arrived home, unlocked the door with a hand, cellphone barely balanced in her shoulder. "You're kidding me," she had said, and on the other side Derek laughed that it is true, the Rock will be skintight in a superhero blockbuster but this isn't the deal.

It had totally bungee-jumped out her closed window that Gun-Fetish had been in her home, great situational remembrance there but to be honest, despite all the title Red Hood depicted he wasn't extremely murderous, was he? Hood had said thanks over cereal. Hood had looked tired and somehow small, forced to fit into himself. And, it is her belief that murderous people didn't do that.

Even if murder-y people are usually also the poor, unfortunate souls. It mattered that Hood hadn't felt murder-y, no slinging entrails to the beat no sir, and instead, he felt like a weighted man, a shadow of a person, not completely shattered but definitely not whole. Like bat-papa, like bat-son.

Speaking of bat-traits Hood had definitely snooped, except she spoke bat-speak and that practically meant affection, and he'd washed her dishes as in legitimately scrubbed old takeout from two-dollar bowls and he tidied her perfect lumpy couch and folded the heaven-in-a-cotton-home duvet into an Alfred worthy square. Her hand rubbed a bruise on her jaw and this is so totally not the actions of a crazy axe-murderer incarnate Red Hood.

In the kitchen arch and steaming hot chocolate in her hands, it felt like hope, an idea lodged in her skull and yep, Hood had bought this on himself. He should have taken into account her unwillingness to quit at alleged dead-ends before he over-exhausted himself into two trash cans; and Stephanie sipped her hot chocolate.