#imagine it colors the inside of the hood

[tawney]

One of my pet peeves is Luz's hexide uniform, because there's 2 extra colors in the uniform that don't have any coven association, while there's 3 coven colors missing. So I tried remaking Luz's uniform to fit in as many colors as possible.

It doesn't look as nice or color coded (which is why I changed abomination's location) but I tried 😭

[sanguineterrain]

knight in shining helmet | jason todd

Summary: You're a princess who's visiting Gotham City. You weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. Needless to say, your expectations of the night are in hell. You're hoping, at least, that you'll be rescued by the famous Batman. Instead, it's the infamous Red Hood that finds you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x princess!fem!reader 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings/tags: kidnapping, rescue, reader and jason don't get along at first, violence, drugging, meet-ugly, 7-eleven food as a courting strategy, kissing, softie jason (he always makes an appearance somehow!), strangers to...not-so-strangers.

the divider

You suppose that, for a princess, you ought to have expected a kidnapping to pan out at least once in your life. 

You just didn't think it would happen tonight. In Gotham City. A place you weren't loving to begin with. 

“Unhand me!” you scream as soon as your taker's filthy, sweaty hand leaves your face. “You'll be executed for this!”

You're not actually sure of Gotham's death penalty policy, but you feel like it's something you should throw in. In any case, the three men who've dragged you away, tied you up, and bruised you in the process, should be a little more afraid of getting caught. 

“Batman will find you,” you add. “He'll save me.” You've heard great tales of Gotham's hero. If anyone can help you, it's him. 

That makes one of them pause. But the ringleader sneers at you. “If he finds us. He's got a lot on his plate every night, ya Majesty.”

“I am a priority guest in this city, of course he would—”

“Shut her up,” the leader snaps, and suddenly, you're being gagged. Disgusting. Completely unsanitary. You don’t want to imagine if the gag has ever been washed.

You keep screaming and fighting through the gag until a needle pricks your neck. Your terror spikes as you realize there's suddenly an ultimatum to fear: what if Batman doesn't reach you in time? 

That's your last thought as the drug renders you unconscious. 

When you awaken, it's still nighttime. Nearly pitch black, except for a dim lightbulb in the center of the room. It looks like you're in some kind of warehouse. You can't see much of anything and it makes you claustrophobic. Your head aches and your vision is blurry, and your cheek is pressed against a grimy floor. You just want to go home.

You try to sit up first, but that nearly makes you throw up, and you do not want to throw up through this ratty gag. So you swallow the feeling and close your eyes, waiting until the nausea passes. You open your eyes and they begin to adjust to the darkness. You’re alone, which confuses you.

Then you spot the explosives hooked up at the bottom of your dress.

The good news is that your kidnappers aren’t here. The bad news is that the reason they aren’t here is because they can remotely explode this place and you inside of it. If they don’t get the ransom they’re no doubt demanding, tonight will be your first and last night in Gotham. 

Another thought chills you to your bone: what if the explosives are set to go off whether they get the ransom or not?

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears come. You’re going to die.

But wait. Maybe not. Surely, Batman is looking for you. And his young, brightly-colored companion. You never understood that color palette choice.

They’ll save you. Your father has no doubt alerted authorities. You’re the most important person in the city tonight! Of course people are looking for you. 

Yes, you’ll be saved, the criminals will be punished to the highest extent of the law, and you’ll be escorted back to your hotel where you can take a long, luxurious bath. That’ll be very nice. 

You’ll also never visit Gotham again, that is for sure. 

The door to the warehouse rolls open with a boom. You flinch and squint, trying to make out the figure. If it’s your kidnapper, you want to act like you’re still asleep. You think you saw that trick in a film at the cinema you snuck out to watch when you were young. You didn’t catch the whole film, though—you were found out by your guards before you could. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d watched the whole film!

As the figure gets closer, you realize firstly that he’s a lot bigger than your kidnappers. You sigh in relief. Batman.

“‘Lo?” asks a gruff voice. “Anybody here?”

You shout through your gag. You can’t make out a face, but it’s alright. Relief floods you. You’re saved.

Your savior jogs to you. You tilt your head as you make out a… red helmet? With glowing eyes?

Wait a minute.

“Holy shit,” Not-Batman says. He pulls out your gag first. “Y’okay?”

Realization strikes you; you recall a story one of the party guests shared earlier in the night about a crime lord and his terror on Gotham.

"You're that terrible gangster that left a duffle bag of heads!" you blurt.

"In the flesh," he says, tapping the barrel of his gun to his helmet in a salute. Red Hood. “You don’t look very happy to see me, all things considered.”

“I don’t want your help!” you say, wriggling away from him. “I’m in an alliance with The Batman!”

He tilts his head. “‘S that so? What alliance would that be? Beauty Pageant Runaways For Bats?”

“I am not a beauty pageant contestant,” you say hotly. “I am a princess, and I have a small militia looking for me.”

He kneels in front of you, holstering his gun. His one of many, many guns. Your skin itches with sweat and adrenaline as he approaches. Those glowing eyes in his helmet flip your stomach. This is all wrong. You're supposed to be saved by a hero, not an outlaw. A criminal.

“Princess, huh?” Hood nods. “Ah, yeah. I heard somethin’ about that. They took you from the Plaza. Just my luck that I’d run into ya.”

“You mean, you weren’t actively looking for me?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Nope. You’ve got every vigilante and cop in the city looking for you, Your Highness. I came in here ‘cause I smelled motor oil.” 

Now that he’s found you, what does he plan to do?

“Are… are you going to release me?” you ask.

“Depends. Is this place rigged to blow?”

“My dress,” you say, unsure whether you should let him know about the explosives. A man who leaves severed heads in a duffel bag doesn’t seem wrapped up too tightly. 

“Hm?” Hood lifts your skirt slightly. He whistles. “Damn. This is some excellent work. Whoever did this is a pro demolitions expert.”

His praise doesn’t comfort you, oddly enough.

“Is it live?” you ask.

“Doesn’t look like it. And I’ve got a lot of experience with explosives. Just stay still for now.”

Hood squats and pulls out a knife. You shift. He's bigger than you even like this, crouched at your level. His shoulders nearly block your entire view. 

“Who were they?” he asks.

“Who was who?”

“The people that took you.”

“I don't know. They were wearing masks. Three men,” you say, frozen as he takes the knife to your feet.

“Mm.”

Hood begins to cut the ropes around your ankles. You delicately point your feet, unsure if he'll slip and get you. 

Your lip curls. "Where's Batman? Or that boy who works with him? Aren't they in charge of this city? I want to speak to one of them."

“I don’t work for the Bats,” he says, an edge to his words.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable with you rescuing me,” you say. “You’re a criminal.”

Hood stops cutting and looks at you. "Y'want Batman? Fine. I don't mind letting you wait around for the Bat.”

He pockets the knife and rises, walking out of the warehouse and disappearing. Just like that. Your heart jumps.

"Wait!" you shout, squirming in your binds. "Wait, come back!"

But it's silent. Panic digs its claws into your chest.

"Red Hood! Red Hood, come back! Please!"

You begin to cry out of desperation, tears dripping onto your already soiled dress. You try to pull your feet apart, but the rope isn't cut enough and all you do is worsen the burns around your ankles.

You bow your head and cry onto the floor. You just want to go home. You want your goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton ten-thousand thread count sheets. More than that, you never want to return to this stupid city.

"Are you cryin'?"

Your head shoots up. Hood stands over you, arms folded. 

"You-you came back," you say, voice wobbly.

He shrugs. "I had an inkling that you had a change of heart, princess.”

You look away. "You left me.”

"I did,” he says. “But as much as you might deserve abandonment, I'm duty-bound to rescue everyone. No matter how obnoxious of a Batman fan they are."

"I'm not a fan. I just didn't want the morally corrupt, violent drug runner to save me."

He leans down and snaps away the ropes from your ankles—a feat of strength that doesn't go unnoticed. Then he saws the ones around your wrists. "Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore, and for such a pretty face, you suck at sweet talking."

He tosses the rope aside and pockets the knife. You rub your wrists and attempt to sit up. This time, you don’t want to throw up. Success! 

“Anything hurt?” he asks. 

“My legs,” you say miserably. 

“Okay, let me rephrase: anything that'll make you bleed out in the next ten seconds?”

“Um… no.”

“Fantastic. I can probably getcha back to your hotel in an hour.” 

You hold out your arms expectantly. He tuts.

“I don’t give hugs until the third kidnapping. Fourth one is free.”

You huff. “You expect me to walk like this? They took my shoes! Gotham is so uncouth.”

“And what am I s’posed to do about that?” Hood asks. “I look like a Payless to you?”

“I don’t know what that is,” you say. “Don’t you vigilantes have a protocol to follow? I cannot possibly walk through this filthy warehouse on my bare feet. I’ll catch a virus! You’ll have to carry me.”

Hood lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s somewhat eerie through his modulator. You lift your chin, maintaining your composure. 

“Oh my God! Highness, you��re a diamond-encrusted piece of work. I don’t carry anybody unless they’re unconscious and I like ‘em a lot. It’s a short list.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m a guest in your city, and I’ve been kidnapped! The least you can do—”

“The least I can do is leave you to rot here,” Hood says, tone cutting. “Or let your kidnappers come back and finish the job. You aren’t in whatever palace they carted you out of; you’re in fuckin’ Gotham, and if y’want my help, you’re gonna suck it up and walk.”

You look away, tears brimming once more. You sniffle. 

“You don't have to be so mean,” you say, voice watery. “I’ve had a difficult night.” 

It's quiet for a few moments. You've never cried as much as you have tonight, especially not in front of a stranger. A dangerous stranger. 

“...Look, I think I got some spare boots,” Hood finally says. “Stay here.”

“Where would I go?” you mumble. Whether he hears you or not, he doesn’t reply, stalking out of the warehouse. He returns thirty seconds later with a pair of ugly, black, man boots. 

“Used?!” you ask, voice high.

“Lightly, Your Majesty. They’re my spares. Here.”

Hood tosses the boots at you. You stare at them like he’s flung a pair of rats at you. He taps his wrist.

“Time’s a-ticking, princess. I’m on a schedule. I can always let you wait for Batman. He’ll find ya. Eventually.”

So you put on the boots. 

You attempt to stand next, but the drugs and binds have made your limbs weak. You try and fail to get up twice before Hood hooks his arms under yours and hauls you up without a sweat. You squeal, fingers digging into his brown leather jacket. 

He towers over you, doubly intimidating now that you're standing. 

“Got it?” he asks, arms slipping away. 

You definitely don’t have it, and you wobble backward. Hood grabs you again, hand on your back. 

“Whoa. Easy.” Hood cups your face, a little rough. You squirm, mind flooded with all the germs that are probably on his gloves. “Look a'me. Look—stop fighting, Jesus Christ.”

“This is no way to treat a princess!”

“Yeah, I missed that day of training,” he says dryly. “Stay still, I'm tryna see if your pupils are dilated.” 

“Your grip hurts!”

Hood loosens his grip and manages to keep you still long enough to examine your eyes. He hums and lets go.

“Seems like you’re still feeling the effects. Should wear off soon. Now…”

Hood steps back, but not so far that you can’t grab onto him should you fall again. He gives your dress a onceover. 

“So that’s not gonna work.” He takes out his knife again. Your eyes widen. 

“What on earth are you doing with that?” you ask, taking a small step backwards.

“Cutting your dress,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

You gasp, backing away. “No you will not!”

“Princess—”

“This dress is one-of-a-kind, handmade for tonight’s gala. You’re not going near it! It cost seventeen thousand euros!” 

“Is it worth more than your life?” Hood snaps. “I don’t have any spare clothes and I’m not dragging a ballgown with three pounds of C-4 attached to it around. You have to be able to move and you have to get on my bike. Now quit whining.”

You sulk as he cuts and tears the bottom layer of your gown. He isn’t as savage about it as you expect: the cut is neat and could even be salvaged in the hands of a good seamstress. The night air makes your legs prickle with goosebumps. Then his words register.

“Bike?” you ask as Hood sets your dress remains aside. You’ll grieve for your dress privately.

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you had a Batmobile.”

“That’s Batman’s car. Hence the name. I have a bike ‘cause I’m a morally corrupt, violent, drug runner.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can’t we take a taxi? Or call a car service?”

Hood snorts. “No one’s driving to this part of Gotham at this hour. It’s my bike or nothing. Or, of course, you can wait for Batsy.”

He starts walking and you hurry to follow. Hood’s strides are long and you’re unsteady in his too-big boots.

“Can you please slow down? These boots are enormous!”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does slow down, waiting until you catch up before leading you to his bike. It’s a nice motorcycle, you suppose, if you were into that thing. You’ve always thought motorcycles were a stupid risk to take. Being on the road is dangerous enough—why remove the comfort and protection of a car?

Hood’s bike is shiny and cherry red, just like his helmet. He produces a proper motorcycle helmet from nowhere and hands it to you. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask, inspecting the helmet. It looks fairly clean and unused. 

“Hasn’t killed me yet, and I’ve been dead once.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

“You’ll be fine,” Hood says at your silence. “I’ll go slow.”

“Alright,” you say, putting on the helmet. It smells oddly pleasant, like spicy cologne. “Very slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, very slow. C’mon.”

Hood kicks a leg over the bike and straddles it, all muscle memory. His muscles flex as he bends his legs. He pats the space behind him. 

Cautiously, you attempt to do the same, but you soon realize that doing that exact move in a dress is probably not the smartest. You hold onto the seat with both hands instead and clumsily try to fold a leg over. It doesn’t work.

“Yo, Bambi. This century would be good.”

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle!” you say, glaring at the back of his helmet. “You could help me.”

“For fuck's—” 

Hood turns around, grabs the back of your calf, and pulls. Your legs part and you shriek, certain you’re about to flash him. He holds your waist as you flail so that you don’t bang into him as you sit. 

“What is wrong with you?” you hiss, smoothing down your dress.

“Re-lax, I didn’t see anything.”

“This is highly undignified—”

“Yeah, we don't really do dignified in Gotham, princess. Comfy?”

“No.”

“Mm. Hold my waist.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all ya want.” Hood takes your arms and wraps them tightly around his waist. He’s warm and, oddly enough, soft despite his bulk. “You’re drugged and unsteady. If y’don’t hold on, you’re gonna fly off. Press up against me and hold tight.”

“Go slow,” you say again, obediently holding his waist.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow,” he says. 

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

Hood turns the ignition. The bike roars to life, louder than you expected. You suck in a breath as he revs the engine and starts off.

True to his word (and what a flimsy word it is), Hood goes slow. He takes gentle, easy turns and breaks at all the stop signs, even though this part of the city is essentially abandoned at this hour. You’re able to study the streets, twinkling streetlights a little too bright to your recovering eyes. But you look anyway, shocked at the dilapidated buildings and uneven pavement. You’re definitely not in the Gotham you were earlier tonight. It hardly looks like the same city.

You turn your attention to your savior. It feels like an odd word to use for the Red Hood, whom you’ve heard enough about tonight. Your father had warned you excessively about what a dangerous area this was, and who exactly made it so dangerous. 

But a savior is exactly what Hood has been to you. You decide that, despite his roughness, he still deserves a good reward. Perhaps a Hoodmobile. Or new boots.

Your rescue is going smoothly until you cross the bridge. That’s when another biker turns onto the road behind you. 

“Shit,” Hood says, and you’re startled that you can hear him so clearly despite the noise. It’s like he’s in your head. “We’re being tailed.”

Well, that’s not good. You turn around briefly but you can’t make out your follower; you’re too scared to move on the bike.

But then you hear the bike behind you speed up. 

“Motherfucker,” Hood says, and speeds up. Your arms tighten into a death grip. 

“Hold on,” he says, like you'd do anything otherwise. 

Hood speeds up and takes a sharp left turn. You tense and yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. He takes several winding turns and you keep your eyes shut through all of them. The nausea has returned and you’d prefer not to ruin the inside of his helmet with your stomach contents.

“We lose him?” he asks when the road levels off and it doesn’t feel so much like you’re on a rollercoaster.

“Um…” you begin, and chance turning around.

It’s clear for a few seconds until…

Well, to echo Hood’s sentiment: motherfucker.

“He’s there!” you yell, and Hood growls.

“The helmets are mic’d, you don’t have to shout,” he says, leaning into a left turn. 

“I see him!” you say, and grab one of Hood’s holstered guns. He scrambles to grab it but misses, surprise slowing him down.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

You ignore him and take off the safety. Moving your free arm up to Hood’s neck, you fire. He curses up a storm, throwing in a few words you’ve never even heard. 

The shots go wide; one dents a parked car, and one hits a stop sign. 

“You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Hood yells and snatches the gun out of your hand. 

But your tail falls back, evidently spooked enough by you and your poor aim. He turns on a side street and disappears.

“He’s gone! We’ve lost him!” you say happily. 

“Are you insane?” 

You wince at his volume. “The helmets are mic’d, you know.”

“You’re so—”

Hood cuts himself off and pulls sharply onto the sidewalk. He dismounts and pushes the kickstand down hard. Then he turns to you, chest heaving.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you ask, putting out your arms. “We lost him!”

“No, we didn’t. All we did was throw him off our trail a little. We gotta walk the rest of the way now because he probably fell back to get more guys to follow us. But that’s not the point: what you did was insanely risky and stupid. You don’t know how to use a gun and you could’ve hurt yourself.”

You stay silent, chewing on his words. Hood isn’t wrong, he’s just… loud about it.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps. 

You don't reply. 

“I need a yes.”

“...I wanted to help.”

Hood sighs. “Yeah, well… just don’t. I’m good at what I do and I’ll get you back in one piece. But you gotta trust me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You feel small, but you don't want to cry in front of him again and confirm that you really are just a spoiled, whiny princess. “I'm sorry, Red Hood.”

You sit down on the curb, feeling exhausted. Tonight is awful. 

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Hood says, “Don't cry.”

Your jaw works as you swallow hard. “I'm not.” You turn your head so he won't see.  

“Christ on toast,” he mumbles above you. “This is exactly why I don't do rescue missions—”

You sniffle. “I'm not crying.”

“—’Cause I'm the world's biggest asshole,” he finishes, voice miles softer. 

Hood sinks onto the curb next to you. He scoots in just enough so that your shoulders brush against each other. 

“Look, ‘m a jerk. The Bats are better at handling civilians and being nice. You got the potty mouth with a bad attitude.” 

You rub your eyes. “I don't like yelling.” 

“Yeah,” Hood says quietly. “Okay. I'll try not to yell unless you're in immediate danger. But you can’t pull stunts like that. Deal?”

You nod. “I won't fire any more of your guns.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Where’d you learn how to shoot, anyway? I mean, y’didn’t do it well, but you did it. Not half-bad for your first time in Gotham.”

“My father wanted me to learn gun sports,” you say. “I learned how to take the safety off and point and shoot, but I refused to do any more lessons after my instructor shot a duck for target practice. I think guns are uncivilized and destructive, and I don’t condone killing animals for sport.”

“Uncivilized unless you're getting tailed by kidnappers?” You think you detect a smile in his question. 

“Everything has its exceptions,” you say primly. 

“Ain't that the truth. C'mon, we should get moving. We're, ‘scuse the saying, sitting ducks out here.”

Hood stands first and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. He does that so easily. It makes your spine tingle. 

“How far are we from my hotel?” you ask.

“‘Bout two miles. If I had my gear I'd call for an assist,” he says apologetically. “Wasn’t planning to save lost princesses tonight.”

“I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll carry me, is there?”

“Pretty and funny,” Hood says. “You're the whole package, beauty queen.”

Your snarky reply is cut off by your stomach growling. Your eyes widen. 

“Pardon me,” you say, mortified. 

“What, ‘cause you're hungry?” Hood asks. “‘S a normal human condition.”

“You don't know anything about royal manners,” you say, but you're relieved. Your father would give you a tight, deadly look if you were hungry in public. 

“No, I really don't. Born and bred Gotham, baby.” 

“Showing any signs of hunger or thirst around company is highly undignified,” you say. 

“Being a princess sounds exhausting.”

No arguments there. 

Hood starts walking. You scramble to follow, and he seems to remember your shorter stride and slows down. 

“There's a pretty decent 7-Eleven nearby,” he says. “I'd take ya to my favorite diner, but we're on a tight schedule. Those guys won’t be far behind.”

“A seven and eleven? Oh, I've heard of those!” you say. 

“I’m… glad you're so excited about convenience stores?”

“I saw it in a film once. My father didn’t catch me watching this one. It looked so rugged, eating in a convenience store and fighting crime afterward. I've never been to one.”

“I know I shouldn't be surprised considering how much your dress cost but it does kinda blow my mind that you've never tasted anything but the finest cuisine,” Hood says. “Wait, did you say your dad didn’t catch you?”

You hum. “He doesn’t like me watching films that aren’t pre-approved.”

“Wow. Y’know, I could pirate you some movies if y’want. I know a great website for it.”

You laugh. “That’s alright. I manage to sneak out to the cinema more than I used to, now that he’s older.”

“Pretty sneaky, beauty queen.” He sounds impressed. 

You shrug, trying to hide your pride. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

You turn on the corner and he leads you through a residential area. A few people outside of their apartments stare at you, but when they see Hood, they relax. 

“Red!” a little boy shouts from a fire escape. He waves excitedly. Hood waves back.

“Hope you’re listening to your ma,” Hood calls to him, mock-stern. To anyone else—to you—it would be unnerving. 

But the boy grins. “I am!”

“Then why aren't ya in bed, huh?” 

The boy shrugs. “Not tired. Who's the lady?”

“The lady is a princess, so be nice,” Hood says.

“Whoa!” The boy gapes at you. You wave at him and he jumps up from the window. 

“Mom!” he yells. “Red Hood found a princess!”

You giggle as Hood leads you away. 

He shakes his head. “Kids.” He sounds terribly fond. 

You stare at his back for a moment. 

“They like you,” you say. “You keep them safe. But you're also a friend.”

“Helps to earn their trust,” he says gruffly. 

You walk a little more in silence. 

“I was wrong about you, Hood,” you say. He doesn't look at you. 

“Lotta people are. Nothin’ new.” 

No, it probably isn't. 

“‘Kay, here we are. C’mon. We gotta be fast, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, following him into the 7-Eleven. 

“Hey, Benny,” Hood says to the tired cashier behind the counter.

Benny nods. “Long night?”

“You got no idea.” He gestures to you. “She’s a princess.”

“Sweet,” Benny says. “What’s up?”

“How do you do?” you say politely. 

Hood leads you to the rolling hot dogs and other cylindrical foods under the heat lamps. You frown.

“I have had a hot dog before,” you say. “I’m not that sheltered.”

“Yeah, but have ya had a buffalo ranch roller? My brother and I used to get these after patrol. That with a blue raspberry slushie? Heavenly after getting thrown into a dumpster.”

“Well, you’ve gotten me this far, so I suppose I’ll trust you,” you say.

“I’m flattered. Benny, my usual.”

Benny gives a thumbs-up and puts the ‘roller’ in a paper bag. Meanwhile, Hood takes you to the back where the slushie machine is. You watch as he fills a plastic cup with electric blue sludge. Your brows raise.

“Why is it that color?” you ask.

“Tasty chemicals,” Hood says cheerily. “It won’t kill ya, I promise.”

“That would be counterintuitive at this point,” you say. 

“I appreciate your faith in me, princess.”

You return to Benny, who rings up the food. “Five twenty-seven.”

Hood looks at you expectantly. You look at him.

“What?” you ask.

“This is the part where you pay,” he says.

“A princess never carries money on her person,” you say, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.

“You–” Hood looks at Benny and sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

He pays and you take your treats, trotting out the door. 

“Thank you, kind sir!” you say as Hood waves. 

“See ya, Ben.”

You hold out your slushie for Hood to take while you work on your fried goodie.

“I’m not a cupholder,” he says, but he takes the cup anyway.

“It’s warm!” you say, delighted. “Let me take a bite.”

Hood patiently waits as you bite and chew. You hum.

“Good?” he asks.

“I like it,” you say. “It’s unusual. Is this chicken?”

“So they say,” Hood says. “Try the slushie.”

You take the cup and first take a small sip. It’s cold and sweet and slightly sour and probably full of enough sugar to rot your teeth out of your head. You love it.

“This is wonderful,” you say. 

He laughs. “Yup. Told ya, nothin’ like this combo. It’s a classic. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You walk and eat, and it definitely improves your night, having something in your belly. 

“This is just like Roman Holiday,” you say.

Hood snorts. “I don’t think we watched the same movie.”

“It has a likeness. You’re Gregory Peck.”

“Yeah, sure. If Gregory Peck was a street fighter, then yeah. I’m Greg fuckin’ Peck.”

“No, you’re right. You’re much younger than he was in that movie. How old are you?” you ask.

“Twenty-four.”

“Really? Why are you doing this?”

“Took a career test.”

You bump his shoulder. “Seriously, Hood. You’re young. You’ve so much potential. I can tell that you’re smart.”

“Maybe I like doing this,” he says.

You tut, shaking your head. “That’s ridiculous. You could do more. Be more.”

“You’re just fulla charm, aren’t ya?” Hood says. 

Your next step is hesitant. Hood keeps walking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” you say. “I guess I assumed…”

“Yeah, I know. You assume a lot, princess. And you’re wrong.”

“You made assumptions about me! You thought that I was stupid and naive and I’m not.”

Hood stops, turns. “Maybe I like doing what I do, huh? Ever think of that? I meant it when I said I’m not a criminal anymore. I help people.”

“I know that,” you say quietly. “I see how the citizens treat you. They like you. You care for them greatly. I just… I just meant that you could try new things too. If you wanted to.”

He’s quiet for a bit. You keep walking. 

“I didn’t think you were stupid,” he eventually says.

You scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Yeah, I thought you were a little… sheltered. But you’re smart. You’re certainly tougher than your dad gives you credit for.”

You roll your eyes. “He still thinks I’m six years old. It takes me getting kidnapped to see a city.”

“Pretty shitty tour.”

You smile behind his back. “Oh, I don’t know. The tour guide is alright.”

Hood stops. When he doesn’t speak, you approach.

“Hood?”

He suddenly puts a hand over your mouth and drags you backwards into an alleyway. Your yelp is muffled. Hood puts a finger to where his mouth would be under his helmet.

That’s when you hear voices.

“—single fuckin’ clue. She could be in the fuckin’ Atlantic by now. Halfway to China!”

“China’s on the other side, dumbass.”

You look up at Hood, eyes wide. 

Those are your kidnappers' voices.

He seems to understand and nods. He squeezes your arm and removes his hand from your mouth. He points to himself and points outside, then points to you and points down. 

You assume that means stay put and don’t try to shoot anyone with his gun. You can take a hint.

Hood slinks out of the alley. You peek your head out to look, curiosity overtaking fear. Besides, you trust Hood. You figure with a reputation like his, he can more than handle his own. 

“Nice night, ain’t it?” he says. 

The two men turn, looking close to pissing themselves. Good.

“Hood, we weren’t doing nothin’!” one says.

“Yeah, Ricky and I are clean!”

“Oh, really? So you had nothing to do with the kidnapping of a certain visiting princess.”

“We was nowhere near the Plaza!” Ricky cries.

The other elbows his friend. Before you can blink, Hood has them both down on the ground, pistols pointed at their necks. 

“You were gonna hurt her,” Hood says, and now there’s no trace of humor in his voice. “That poor, sweet princess. Strapping C-4 to her like a fuckin’ bank vault. Drugging her, tying her up. You fuckin’ animals.”

“It wasn’t our idea, it was Bobby’s!” Ricky cries. 

“Shut up, Ricky!”

A shot rings out and you flinch. Ricky starts sobbing. Red seeps from his leg.

“The only reason I’m not killing you two right now is because I want a word with your boss. But make no mistake.” Hood leans in. “You’ll pay for hurting the princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

With two final hits, Hood knocks them out cold. The sudden silence is loud. 

He looks at you then, those eerie eyes glowing. He beckons you out. You go. 

You look down at the unconscious bodies. “You don’t have to kill them.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. You shouldn’t have that on your conscience.”

“They kidnapped you. They would’ve hurt you had their boss ordered it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t want you to bear that burden, Hood.”

“‘S not a burden,” he says, gently taking your wrist. Your eyes fly open. “If it’ll make you feel better, safer, anything. It’s no burden.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, frightened at how pleased a part of you is at his words.

“I’ll tie ‘em up and send for ‘em when we get back. One second.”

You watch as Hood drags their bodies into the alley like they’re sacks of feathers. He handcuffs them to a drainpipe and ties their feet and gags them. 

“So they can see what it feels like,” Hood says, dusting his hands. You can’t help your small smile. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You look up at the starless sky, suddenly exhausted. Your limbs feel like lead. “I guess so.”

Hood looks into the distance, then back at you. He sighs.

“Climb on my back.”

You blink. “Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” Hood shrugs. “I can tell you’re tired. We don’t have far to go.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask. “All that way…”

“Princess, I’m honestly offended. I once carried Batman and my brother to Bludhaven. I’m more than capable.”

“But what about your rule?” you ask. “About carrying people.”

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he says. “Get on ‘fore I change my mind.”

So you climb onto Hood’s back. He secures you easily, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t choke me out,” he says. “Otherwise we’re both goin’ down.”

You smile and relax on his back. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

At first, it feels like an eternity, waiting for the familiar Plaza sign. You can’t complain, though: Hood is warm and being carried by him is even better than riding on his bike. 

You blink, startled at the thought. What are you even talking about? This is the Red Hood. You were terrified of him a few hours ago. 

And yet, the rhythmic bumping and Hood’s solid figure lulls you to sleep. You don’t even realize until you’re being nudged and a voice pulls you back to consciousness. 

“Hey.”

You’re gently jostled awake. You blink blearily, yawning into Hood’s shoulder.

Oh. Right. You’re on his back.

“Hm?” 

“Ride ends here,” he says. “We’re at the Plaza.”

“Oh.” Sleepily, you try to climb off. Hood sets you on your feet. Embarrassment fills you as you become more awake.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You could’ve woken me! I—”

Hood holds up a hand. “Hey, chill out. ‘S fine. You had a long night, I get it.”

“Right. I, um…” You look up at the hotel. The top floor windows disappear in the layer of fog that’s settled over the city. You wonder what Hood’s windows look like. 

“I’m gonna track down your main kidnapper and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll kick his ass, at the very least.”

You look at Hood, blinking. “Oh. That’s very nice of you, thank you.”

He shrugs. “‘S my job.”

You nod clumsily. “Right, of course. I could give you something in return, though. Money or, um, firearms. A car, perhaps?”

He snorts. You smile shyly. 

“Cute,” he says, but he’s not being mean. “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty set, actually. Doing what I do is surprisingly lucrative.”

“Surely there’s something—”

“Seriously, princess, no charge.”

You bite your lip. Is this too bold? Yes, definitely.

“What about a kiss?”

At first, you think Hood hasn’t heard you. Then he turns to face you in a way that tells you no, he definitely heard you. 

“Ex-cuse me?”

“Um.” You scratch your neck. “Well, princesses kiss their knights goodbye, don’t they?” you ask, but it’s weak. It’s stupid. You’re so young.

You think he’s going to just walk away. That would be the kindest thing to do in response to your blunder.

“I’m sorry, forgive me. That was a terrible joke,” you blurt.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He steps forward, close enough to kiss you if he didn’t have the helmet. You look up at him, heart pounding.

“Wasn’t terrible or wasn’t a joke?” you ask, blood roaring in your ears.

Hood’s quiet. 

“Haven’t done much kissing, to be honest with ya,” he finally says, not answering your question. 

You shake your head. “Nor I.”

“Mm. And y’wanna kiss me? Don’t offer ‘cause you think you owe me.”

“I want to kiss you, Hood.”

He tilts his head. “Y’wouldn’t be kissing a knight. More like kissing a toad.”

You frown. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m no Greg Peck. And I’m no hero either.”

“Do you give this speech to everyone who wants to kiss you?”

“You’re the first one who’s wanted to,” he says.

You inhale sharply. “Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

You wait. He waits. You both wait for the other to back out. You don’t. Neither does he.

“Can’t believe a princess wants to kiss me,” he mumbles.

And then he covers your eyes with his hand.

You blink, lashes sweeping over his glove. You hear a click, then a hiss of air. His helmet hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Hood gingerly holds your chin with his free hand. You keep your eyes closed even though he’s covering them, out of respect.

His mouth is warm and so, so gentle. You barely feel his lips at first, so you press a little harder. Hood doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, resting it on yours, so you take the lead, following what you’ve seen others do and what you’ve watched on television.

You reach up and hold his face. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You stroke his stubbled jaw, feel strong cheekbones and the ends of curls above his ears. 

“Your Highness? Your Highness!”

The hand leaves your face so quickly, your eyes stay closed for a second longer, slow to react. Then you open your eyes and see the empty street.

Your lips tingle with heat. It’s all noise around you, policemen and your guards flitting around you, asking questions, alarmed by your torn dress. 

You exhale, disappointment overtaking you.

Your father is in front of you, taking your wrists. “Can you hear me? Doctor, I need a—”

“I’m fine,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m alright, Father.”

He exhales and pulls you into a hug. It startles you. He pulls away before you can hug him back.

“I am so glad you’re alright,” he says. “The police say they saw a figure with you. Who was that? Was he your kidnapper?”

“No, not at all,” you say, staring out into the street beyond. Your lips are buzzing. “He was my hero.”

[clawsmiic]

"I had to talk to you."

Repost from other account

2.4k words

CW: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (S4 end events didn't happen), College Student!Steve, Steve has shit eyesight

October 13th, 1989

Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.

At least not Hawkins girls.

But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.

Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.

He was satisfied with what he had right now.

Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.

"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"

"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.

"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.

Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.

"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.

"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.

The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.

He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.

Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.

God I need to get my eyes checked.

Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"

Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.

Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.

An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.

"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.

All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.

Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.

"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.

"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.

"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.

Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.

"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.

"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.

God she's so fucking pretty.

"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.

Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.

He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.

"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.

"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.

"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.

Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.

"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.

"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.

"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.

"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.

"You asked her out?"

"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back seat and start pulling the top up on your car.

"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.

"He's not gonna do it."

"No, he's gonna do it."

Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.

He's quickly out of the driver's seat.

"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.

He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.

The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.

Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.

He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.

"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.

"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.

'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'

"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.

"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."

His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.

"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.

"Mmhm, go on."

"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.

"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"

"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."

"Where are you going?"

"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?

"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.

"Software Engineering major."

"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"

"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.

"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.

"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.

"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"

He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.

Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.

"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."

"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.

"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."

"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"

"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.

"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.

"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."

Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.

"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."

He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.

"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.

You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.

"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.

Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.

"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.

He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.

He let out a long breath, looking at them.

"She says hi by the way."

[communicationthroughlyrics]

Come With Us and You Will See

Valkyrie's Halloween parties always brought out the lust in everyone. But between you, Wanda, and Natasha- you didn't share well. What happens when things get a little bit too spicy for your jealous ass to handle?

AN: Happy early Halloweenie, folks! I got a little carried away, so have fun!

18+ ONLY

TW: porn with plot, implied orgy, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, enchanted strap, slight degradation, WandaNat, spanking, multiple orgasms, sub/dom dynamic... yeahhh lemme know if I missed something XD

9.9K WORD COUNT

The Ghouls All Came From Their Humble Abodes

In the quiet, suburban neighborhood, a quaint house with a meticulously trimmed lawn stood out from the rest. It was the home of Natasha and Wanda, two middle-aged women with a penchant for the dramatic. They lived a life of vibrant colors and boundless imagination, turning every mundane event into an opportunity for celebration. Inside, the walls were adorned with paintings that whispered of distant lands, and the air had the scent of exotic spices, hinting at Natasha's love for cooking. Wanda, on the other hand, had a green thumb that could coax even the most stubborn of plants into a blooming pattern of life.

You had been a pleasant surprise to thier mundane routine. Young and full of life, you brought a spark to their lives that had been missing since their youth. They had found in you a muse, a playmate, and a confidante all rolled into one. The three of you had been inseparable since the fateful night you'd stumbled into Natasha's art gallery, lost in the rain, and she had offered you shelter.

The older women showed you another level of intimacy that you had only ever dreamed of- and in return, you gave them the orgasms they had been craving. They had taught you the art of seduction, whispering sweet nothings in Russian accents that made your toes curl, and your cheeks flush. Your days were filled with laughter, passion, and the gentle thrill of discovery as you learned the intricacies of their desires.

Tonight, you were destined for an adults-only costume party. Valkyrie, one of the trusted confidantes of your lovers, promised a night of revelry that would be unforgettable. You knew that the two women who had held your heart captive for the last 10 months were going to pull out all the stops for Halloween. The anticipation had been building all week, with Natasha and Wanda teasing you with glimpses of their costumes that grew more risque with each day.

In return, you made sure to let thier anticipation build as they tried to get you to reveal your costume. You had kept it a secret, smiling mischievously each time they asked, only saying that it was going to be something that would make their jaws drop. As the night of the party grew closer, the house buzzed with excitement.

You dusted your face, neck, and chest with a pale setting powder- dulling your skin tone to a milky white before applying some darker makeup to accentuate your already chiseled features. That was one thing that Wanda and Natasha both made sure to compliment you regularly about- how well you took care of yourself and your physique. The costume you've chosen was a nod to the grim reaper- a sleek black robe that clung to your broad shoulders and tapered to your waist, with a silver cane-sized scythe resting against the wall. The hood was drawn back, exposing your hair freshly dyed hair slicked back.

The darkness surrounding your eyes was contrasted by the contacts you chose to wear, and your chest was almost bare underneath, the robe was carefully fashioned to prevent your chest from being too revealed. You chose a simple pinstriped waistcoat and slacks, hiding the surprise you recently purchased for your two lovers.

As you stepped into the living room, Natasha and Wanda were waiting, their eyes on each other as they danced to some music in the living room, waiting for you to come downstairs. You silently leaned against the archway into the room, leaning with your cane in your hand. Not wanting to disrupt the moment, you watched them move in tandem, thier years of marriage apparent in how they moved as one.

Natasha, dressed as a sultry vampiress, had her hair in curls that cascaded down her shoulders, a crimson dress that hugged her curves and showcased her ample cleavage, and a necklace of gleaming black pearls around her neck. Her lips were a deep shade of red, matching the color of her fingernails and the tips of her sharp, vampiric teeth that peeked out when she smiled. Red was always her color, and any time she wore it, you made sure to make her aware- often, the blush you would cause rivaling the crimson she was adorned in.

Wanda, on the other hand, had chosen a more enigmatic costume. Her long, brown hair was swept into an elegant updo, with a few loose strands framing her face. She was dressed as a fortune teller, complete with a sheer shawl draped over her shoulders and a crystal-laden neckline that drew attention to her piercing green eyes. Her dress was a deep, mysterious green that swirled around her legs as she danced, hinting at the secrets she was known to keep.

The women together were sure to stop any show, a breathtaking mixture of elegance and seductiveness that sent your pulse racing every time you saw them. As they caught sight of you, the music seemed to pause for a moment. Natasha's eyes widened with a predatory glint, and Wanda's lips curled into a knowing smile. They had both chosen costumes that left little to the imagination, but it was your transformation that truly stole their breath away.

Wanda broke free of Natasha's grasp, seemingly floating in your direction. "Detka," she purred, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "you look absolutely... ravishing!"

Natasha stepped closer, her vampire cape billowing around her as she did so. "You've truly outdone yourself this time," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "The Grim Reaper has never looked so... alive, Malysh."

You couldn't help but chuckle, the sound echoing through the hallway as you twirled the scythe in your hand. "I had to match your level of drama," you replied, your gaze flicking between them.

Natasha sailed towards you, her fingertips grazing over the fabric of your costume. "But, my love," she whispered, her breath hot against your neck, "you've gone above and beyond." Her eyes danced with mischief as she leaned closer, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "I can't wait to see what kind of mischief the three of us will get into tonight." Wanda's fingers danced along the exposed skin of your chest, leaving a lingering kiss on your collarbone before you guided them toward the door.

As you stepped into the night, the cool autumn air kissing your skin, Natasha and Wanda linked arms with you, their laughter a harmonious melody that filled the quiet streets. The party was already in full swing when you arrived at Valkyrie's, the throb of music and the cacophony of voices spilling out from the open windows. The house itself was transformed into a haunted mansion, complete with cobwebs, flickering lights, and an eerie fog that danced along the ground.

The moment you entered the party, all eyes turned towards the three of you. The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with guests dressed in various costumes that ranged from playful to downright terrifying, but all in varying levels of sinful. But it was Natasha and Wanda who truly stole the show. Their allure was magnetic, and the way they looked at you was nothing short of possessive. You felt a thrill of excitement and a hint of pride knowing you were the center of their universe.

Valkyrie, dressed as a scantily clad Viking queen, spotted you from across the room. She raised her goblet in a toast, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Welcome, my lovelies!" she bellowed, her strong voice cutting through the din. She wove through the crowd, her skirt swishing around her powerful legs. "You've outdone yourselves! Natasha, Wanda, your costumes are absolutely... divine," she said with a knowing wink, kissing them on the cheek. "And... Y/N, you look... stunning, my dear." Val leaned in to kiss your cheek but pecked a little too close to your mouth for comfort. You felt Wanda's grip on your arm tighten slightly, never having been a fan of how much Val took a liking to you.

The party was a whirlwind of activity. Enchanting witches and warlocks mingled with ghosts and beguiling goblins, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and food as the gathering was in full swing. Dancing bodies were everywhere, everyone dressed in a sexy costume of some sort, and you were sure that by the end of this party, most costumes would be discarded and forgotten on the floor. Val's parties always seemed to end that way.

You graciously accepted compliments and sipped from the goblet that was filled for you, feeling the buzz of alcohol melding with the electricity in the air. You, Nat, and Wanda had split up, floating from group to group and mingling on your own, compliments and praises being rained down on the three of you separately as well as together. The night was a blur of laughter and whispered conversations, of secrets shared and glances exchanged that promised much more than simple pleasantries. Eventually, Val made her way up to a makeshift stage in the center of the room, clearing her throat into a microphone to gain everyone's attention.

"Welcome, my dear guests, to the most wickedly enchanting night of the year!" she announced, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Now, as per tradition, we shall begin the costume contest!" There was a rush of cheers and claps as the lights dimmed, and a spotlight was directed towards the stage as the rest of the lights dimmed. You glanced around the room, Noticing that Nat and Wanda had made thier way back to each other and were staring at you expectantly from across the room. You shot them a cheeky wink before redirecting your attention, glancing around the room at all the costumes before you.

You laughed as Steve, dressed as a Chippendale Zombie, struggled to direct the spotlight where he wanted it. The room was a masquerade of shadows, clapping, and cheers as Steve guided the light to people who had voted to compete against one another. The costumes were a mix of pop culture references and old-school horror classics, each one more elaborate than the last.

Valkyrie announced each participant with flair, her voice resonating with the joy of the evening. Wand and Natasha both had been selected and were standing on opposite ends of the stage.  "And now, for the pièce de résistance," Valkyrie said, her eyes locking onto you, "our very own, sexy as hell, pun intended, Grim Reaper, Y/N!" The spotlight found you, and the room fell silent, save for the dull roar of the classic Halloween music.

You took a sip from your goblet, feeling the warmth spread through your chest as you made your way to the stage, the silver scythe glinting under the lights. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, all eyes on you as you moved with a grace that belied your size. The scythe was surprisingly light, and you twirled it in one hand as you climbed the stairs with a dramatic flair, feeling every eye in the room on you.

You began to walk to Wanda, but Val pulled you towards her at center stage.

"Ah, ah," she said with a playful shake of her head, "let's get a good look at all our contestants before the final reveal of our winners." she winked at you, spinning you around before looping her arm with yours. You knew this was a dangerous game- Wanda and Natasha both had dark looks adorning thier features. They didn't like sharing you, not even in jest. And the feeling was mutual. The women caught everyone's eye no matter where you were, and they often poked at your jealousy. Even when the three of you came to Val's parties, you would only entertain the thought of the two women.

Others had tried to break into your threesomes before but never succeeded. The tension between you three was always palpable, a dance of desire and territorial claim. Val knew the rules and had always respected them, but tonight, she was pushing the boundaries with her playful flirting.

Wanda's eyes narrowed as she watched you with Val, her hand tightening around her crystal ball. Natasha's smile was forced, the vampiric fangs she wore glinting in the light as she took a sip from her goblet. The room grew hot with unspoken emotions, a silent battle of wills playing out.

The music picked up tempo as you watched Natasha strut across the stage, her crimson dress fluttering like the wings of a bat in the moonlight. She stopped in front of Wanda and did a dramatic twirl, her vampiric teeth gleaming as she sunk them into her bottom lip. Wanda, ever the performer, played along, her eyes never leaving yours as Natasha approached her, the scent of the incense Natasha had picked up at the local metaphysical shop swirling around her like a seductive fog.

Natasha leaned in, grasping Wanda by the waist and tiling her backward, exposing the brunette's neck. She leaned in, biting it gently, leaving an imprint of the fake teeth she had been wearing all night. The crowd gasped, but you knew it was all for show. Wanda's eyes never left yours as Natasha did this, a silent challenge dancing within their emerald depths. You felt your heart rate spike, a thrill of excitement and desire coursing through your veins. You tilted your head, almost in a pompous way, a seductive smirk gracing your features.

Your resolve waivered, however, when Val made her way over to the couple- grasping the back of Natasha's neck and whispering something in her ear before pulling Wanda closer, almost kissing her. They knew you would hate this, your hatred of watching someone commandeer them the way you usually did was not foreign to them. And yet, as Natasha's eyes sparkled with mischief, Wanda's with a hint of anger, you felt your desire flare up, a thrill of jealousy turning your cheeks hot.

You sucked in a sharp breath, shooting them both a pointed stare before turning your attention back to the party at hand. Val stalked back to you, leaning into your frame as she began to announce the 4th, 3rd, and 2nd place winners. Your gaze kept wandering over to Nat and Wanda, watching the tension build between them. You felt the anticipation in the air as the music grew more intense, and Val prepared to announce the winning contestant while her hands wandered all over your clothed chest.

The room was alight with whispers and guesses, the excitement reaching a crescendo as Valkyrie dramatically paused, her hand hovering over the envelope containing the first-place winner's name. "And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for!" she shouted, ripping open the envelope with a flourish. "The grand prize goes to..." She scanned the paper, her eyes flickering with amusement. "The Reaper!"

Val winked at you, leaning in towards your ear. "Don't have too much fun with them,"  she quipped. "Save some of your lovin' for the rest of us." Her words were playful, but you felt the underlying tension in the air thicken. You watched as she walked over to the two women, leaning in and kissing Natasha passionately before turning her attention to Wanda.

You felt your blood boil at Val's audacity, she knew better than to try and stake any claim to them without permission. That had always been the rule of these get-togethers. Permission had to be given, and for you three, it was never granted.

As Val pulled away from Wanda, the fortune teller's eyes flickered to yours, the emerald depths swirling with a mix of anger and arousal. Natasha's gaze was equally intense, the hunger in her eyes a silent declaration of war. You stepped forward, the silver scythe gliding through the air as you approached the stage. The crowd parted, creating a path for you, their whispers a symphony of anticipation.

You pushed Val out of the way, staring down the two women with whom you shared the most intimate moments. "Looks like I've got two wayward little souls to collect," you murmured darkly, the corners of your mouth curling up in a sinister smile. The crowd hushed, sensing the sudden shift in the room's dynamic. Natasha visibly gulped at how dark your aura became while Wanda stood with her legs crossed, her eyes dilated with lust at your possessiveness.

You stepped closer to Natasha, your hand reaching up to remove the cape from her shoulders. She trembled under your touch, the fabric sliding off with ease, revealing her crimson dress. "I think it's time for my prize," you said, your voice low and filled with promise. Your hand slid down her arm, the fabric of your glove sending a shiver down her spine as you gently pulled her closer. You leaned in, your breath hot on her neck. "You know what happens to those who don't respect the rules of the game."

She released a breathy gasp, goosebumps erupting where your breath touched her skin. You suddenly pulled away, turning to Wanda, who was further gone than her wife.

"And you, darling..." you glared at the darkened eyes of your other lover, stepping towards her shivering frame. "Are you such an impatient little whore that you have to stand there, legs crossed, to get the friction you want?" You whispered in Wanda's ear, her body visibly responding to your words. "Tell me, Wanda," you began, raising your hand to her neck as you tilted her head, making Natasha's bite mark stand out in the dim light. "Do you think that you should be...punished?" your inflection on the punishment caused a moan to escape her, her eyes pinched shut.

Without waiting for a response, you leaned in and claimed her mouth, your teeth grazing her bottom lip as Natasha watched with a mix of jealousy and arousal. The crowd had gone silent, the music now nothing but a faint background to the scene unfolding on stage. You felt Natasha's eyes on you, her desire palpable. You knew it was a dance you had to perform, a dance of power and submission that the three of you had perfected over the months.

You pulled away, noting that others in the party had started to strip thier partners for the night in various states of intimacy while others watched the three of you. "I think we need to show everyone who you two belong to." You commanded between the two, your grip tightening on Wanda's hip and Natasha's arm. You didn't have to say it out loud; they knew the score.

"I have a surprise for the two of you," you said with a wicked smile as you led Natasha and Wanda to the center of the stage, the crowd that had made its way up part for you like the Red Sea. You had planned this moment for weeks, ever since you heard about the party. You had bought something special for them, a costume that would not only blow their minds but also cement your dominance over them for the rest of the night.

The lights grew dimmer, and the music slowed to a seductive rhythm as if the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation. You sat on the throne that was perched on the highest point of the stage, grasping Natasha by the back of her neck and pulling her in for a searing kiss. You could hear Wanda moan next to you, the passion between the three of you always making the other weak. The audience watched, enraptured by the raw intimacy playing out before them.

You broke the kiss, a smirk playing on your lips as you looked Natasha in the eyes, the intensity of the moment causing her pupils to dilate. "Strip for me," you murmured, your voice low and demanding. The crowd's anticipation grew as Natasha obeyed, her hands moving to the neckline of her crimson dress. She made a show of it as she peeled it away from her body, revealing her full, round breasts, the fabric clinging to her skin for a brief moment before it fell to the floor. Her body was a canvas of desire, already painted with the sweat of the dance and the anticipation of the night ahead as she sat on the right-hand arm of your current seat.

You turned your attention to Wanda, who was seated on the other arm of the throne, reaching up and pulling her down roughly, causing her to fall to her knees in front of you. Her eyes never left yours as you untied the laces of her fortune teller's top, revealing the taut, toned stomach and the lacy lingerie that you knew would make Natasha's mouth water. You watched as Natasha's gaze roved over Wanda's exposed flesh, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she took in the sight.

"Wanda," you directed, watching her suck her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Take it off," you ordered, your voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to echo through the room. The fortune teller's eyes smoldered with need as she obeyed, her top falling away and exposing the matching crimson bra beneath. The crowd's whispers grew louder, a symphony of desire and excitement that only fueled your own.

Before you knew it, Wanda was nude on her knees in front of you, and Natasha was bare on your right hand, her own hands wandering over your partially exposed chest. The crowd's whispers grew to a murmur of appreciation, the room a sea of lustful energy. You leaned back on the throne, your eyes taking in the beauty of your lovers, feeling like the king of the world.

"Now," you began, your voice has become deeper and raspier with lust. You grasped one of Natasha's hands, guiding it down towards the newest addition to your repertoire. You motioned for Wanda to lean in, and she did so diligently, resting her cheek on your upper thigh as she watched Natasha's hand as she raked her own up and down your inner thigh. "I want to show you what I've got for you," you whispered, your free hand reaching out and raking through the brunette's hair.

Natasha took the hint, reaching down to the apex of your thighs, feeling the girth that rests between your toned thighs. You looked up as she moaned at the discovery, her breathing becoming audibly heavier. You watched as Natasha's hand began to stroke the length of your fake cock, her eyes never leaving yours as she did so, a silent question in them. You nodded, giving her the go-ahead, and she leaned down, unzipping the fly of your slacks as Wanda unbuckled your belt.

The room was a haze of desire as Natasha pulled out the strap-on you had hidden beneath your costume. It was a sleek, black, and realistic dildo, a symbol of power and dominance in the bedroom that you wanted to use with the women after your first meaningful night together. The crowd watched with bated breath as Natasha held it up, her eyes gleaming with excitement and a hint of trepidation. Wanda looked up at you with a mix of excitement and fear, the thrill of the unknown sparking a fire within her that you hadn't seen in quite some time. There was a red glint in Wanda's eyes as she gazed up and down the length of the toy.

You groaned as Natasha spit onto the tip of the toy, her deft hand working it up and down as Wanda kissed the shaft, as well as your stomach and the exposed portions of your thighs. They were working you to a high quickly, the feeling almost like you had a pulsing cock. The room's anticipation grew as Nat leaned back, placing the toy against her mouth, her eyes locked on yours. She sucked on it, her tongue swirling around the head before she pulled away, leaving it glistening with her saliva.

"I think that someone needs to be punished, sweet girl." You grasp Natasha's chin, gazing into her hazy eyes. They widen when she realizes that you're talking to her. You gesture to Wanda, still on her knees, her eyes dark with want. "Take your punishment," you murmur, and she nods, eager for whatever you have in store for her. "And you," you send a pointed command to the brunette waiting at your side. "Sit still and watch like the good girl I know you are. You know what happens if you don't."

A sneering smile crept across your features as she nodded her head rapidly. "Good girl, Wands. Behave like that, and maybe I'll reward you instead." The room watched in anticipation as Natasha began to work the strap-on around your waist, her hands shaking with excitement as her mouth wrapped around the tip. You could almost swear that it felt like the member was attached, but you chalked it up to the passion of the moment and how good the two women before you looked on thier knees for you.

Natasha continued her relentless assault on the toy that was wrapped around your hips, effectively gagging herself as she prodded the back of her throat with your toy. Wanda's eyes were glued to the scene, her mouth watering at the thought of what was to come. You leaned back, your hand reaching for Natasha's hair, gripping it tightly as you began to rock your hips into her face, the leather of the strap-on creaking with each movement.

The crowd watched with bated breath, the energy of the room palpable as Natasha's moans grew louder around your strap-on, her eyes glazed with lust. You knew she was enjoying this; the power play was a new twist on your usual dynamic, and it was driving her wild. You watched as Wanda's hand slid down her stomach, her fingers delving into her wetness as she watched Natasha's face contort with pleasure.

The music grew louder, the bass thumping in time with your pulse as Natasha pulled away, gasping for air. You leaned down and whispered something in her ear, your hand still tangled in her hair, and she nodded eagerly. You glanced in Wanda's direction, watching as her fingers delved deep into her heat, the passionate sound of her arousal echoing on the stage as her digits buried themselves deep within her tight pussy.

You couldn't be bothered to correct her behavior with the view of Natasha bent over, ass up before you. "You know what to do," you murmured, and Natasha nodded as you tangled your fingers in her now disheveled hair. She took a step back, her hand reaching around to tease her clit as she inched backward, gasping when you slapped her sodden folds with the length of the toy. She moaned and began to rock her hips towards you as she sought more friction. You smirked, stroking the length attached to your hips as her arousal dripped onto the shaft.

With a swift thrust, you pushed into Natasha, her body jolting at the intrusion. She let out a guttural moan, her back arching as you claimed her before everyone. The sight was intoxicating, Natasha's body stretching to accommodate you as Wanda watched with bated breath. You began to move, a slow rhythm that had Natasha's legs trembling and her eyes rolling back into her head. You reached around her, playing with her clit as you fucked her, her moans echoing through the room, as other partygoers similar sounds of passion echoed throughout Val's living room.

Wanda was now standing beside you, her hand buried in between her thighs as she watched Natasha take your toy like a champ. She leaned in, her breath hot on your neck as she whispered, "Fuck me, please," You felt a jolt of excitement at her words, the desire to see her in action taking hold. You nodded, and the hand you had been using to fondle Natasha's right breast slid over Wanda's drenched folds.

Your fingers slid into her slickness, her juices coating your hand as you began to pump her in sync with the rhythm you had set with Natasha. The two of them were a sight to behold, both moaning and writhing before you. Natasha's eyes found yours in the mirrored wall behind the stage, the reflection showing the intensity of her climb to climax. Wanda's hand had moved to your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she rode the wave of pleasure you had started.

The room had gone quiet, the only sound you could hear now was Natasha's grunts and Wanda's whimpers, the slap of the strap-on against Natasha's ass echoing through the space. You could feel the eyes of the others on you, a mix of envy and arousal that fueled your desire. You picked up the pace, Natasha's moans growing more desperate as she pushed back into you, her hand a blur as she pleasured herself.

Using your other hand, you grabbed Natasha's loose hair, pulling her back so her back was now pressed against your front. You leaned down and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, your teeth grazing the shell of it as you felt her pussy tighten around the strap-on. The crowd was a sea of hungry eyes, the room thick with lust as you brought Natasha to the edge of orgasm. You knew they were all imagining themselves in her place, all craving the feeling of your dominance and the power of the toy that was now buried deep within her.

"You feel so good, baby," you rasped into the redhead's ear, her head lolling backward and resting on your shoulder as you deftly switched your hand from her hair to the front of her neck, squeezing ever so slightly. You honestly felt like you could feel her walls tightening on the shaft of the toy, a sensation that was surprisingly erotic despite the barrier of the strap-on. You watched as Natasha's orgasm grew closer, her body tensing as you whispered sweet, dirty nothings into her ear, your hand tightening on her neck, a silent promise of the crescendo approaching.

Wanda leaned in closer, her breathing ragged as she watched Natasha's face contort in pleasure. "Please," she whispered, "please let me come." You smirked, knowing she was close, her hand moving faster as she chased her release. You released Nat's neck, reaching down with your hand and slapping Natasha's ass hard, the sound resounding through the room, causing her to cry out.

"You both know the rules," you panted out, your tone commanding as they both began to reach thier peak. "You don't come without my permission," you whispered, your grip on Natasha's neck returning as she whimpered around your strap-on. You watched Wanda's movements become more and more erratic, knowing this was a battle of wills she was bound to lose.

As Natasha's body tightened around you, her muscles spasming as she reached climax, you felt the room's energy shift. It was as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for your next move. You pulled out of Natasha with a wet pop, her body slumping forward as you turned to face Wanda, your hand still buried in Natasha's hair.

"Do we want to find out what happens to bad girls who don't follow the rules, malyshka?" You growl at Wanda, knowing she was not far behind the woman who just came without permission. She nodded frantically, her eyes wide with need. You released Natasha, letting her collapse to the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up at you with a mix of relief and regret, knowing a punishment was going to follow.

"Tell me, Wanda," you panted out, trying to catch your breath before you continued. "What do you think her punishment should be?" You didn't wait for Wanda to answer. Instead, you grabbed Natasha by the throat, lifting her to her feet and pushing her to her knees next to the fortune teller. Wanda stepped closer to you, allowing your fingers to slide in deeper as you repeatedly prodded the sensitive spot within her. Your pace picked up, becoming relentless as she withheld her pending orgasm.

"I think..." she began, staring at the sweaty, heaving chest of the woman next to you. "She should watch as you fu...FUCK me," she moaned, her nipples bouncing in front of your face at a tantalizing pace. You smirked, your hand sliding out of her pussy to give her clit a sharp pinch, making her squeal.

"Pretty girls like you don't need to be thinking," you shoved your drenched digits soaked in Wanda's arousal, into Natasha's mouth, forcing her to suck on them as you fucked her mouth with them. "You just need to feel," you murmured, watching Natasha's eyes glaze over with pleasure as she tasted Wanda on you. Wanda's moan grew louder, her hand flying to her own throat, mimicking the grip you had on Natasha's neck, as she felt herself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. "Full. You both just want to be full, don't you? My little sluts."

You turned to Natasha, your hand coming down to her face and slapping it gently, her eyes watering as she nodded eagerly. "Good," you whispered, releasing her throat. "Now, let's get started on that punishment." You turned to Wanda, whose legs were shaking, her eyes begging for release. You stepped back, your cock throbbing with the need to fill one of them. Looking around, you noticed a few pairs of handcuffs resting next to the throne, so you grabbed two of them and quickly handcuffed Natasha's hands to the arm of the throne, leaving her seated next to the chair, unable to pleasure herself.

The crowd was now fully invested, their eyes glued to the three of you as the tension grew. You turned to Wanda, who was still standing before you, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. "You know what you need to do," you said, your voice still low and commanding. She nodded, standing up and straddling your lap, her hands reaching behind her to rest on your thighs as she teased herself with the tip of the strap, her arousal dripping onto your thighs and the length before you.

"Do you feel that, detka?" she leaned in, whispering against your ear. Your gaze shifted to something inquisitive as you stared at her, a mischievous grin sweeping across her features. "I may or may not have..." she moaned as she took the tip and pressed it against herself, just barely penetrating her pussy before lifting herself back off. The feeling seemed to intensify for you, and you weren't sure if it was the performance you three were putting on or the way these two made you feel.

Wand leaned in, her hands now coming to rest on either side of your face. "I want you to feel us, and we want to feel you," she began, kissing you deeply before pulling back. She released your face, guiding the tip back to her soaked entrance as she eased onto the length. "I enchanted the strap, baby," she moaned as you let out a guttural groan at the feeling and the admission.

"Fuck, Wanda," you began, grasping her hips tightly as you helped her take the full length. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt the pleasure rush over you, the room fading away to nothing but the three of you. Wanda's eyes fluttered shut, her breathing heavy as she began to rock her hips back and forth, the chair creaking with each movement.

You watched as Natasha's eyes grew wider, her breaths becoming pants as she watched the two of you. You reached out with your free hand, stroking her cheek as she leaned in, her mouth open and desperate for your kiss. You denied her, pulling away just as she closed the distance, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

"You want a taste of this?" you taunted, your voice thick with desire. "You'll have to behave," you reminded her, your eyes flicking to hers, a promise of punishment in them. Natasha nodded fervently, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to fuck Wanda in earnest. The strap-on sliding in and out of her, the feeling of Wanda's silky smooth walls clenching around you intoxicating.

You reached down with your free hand, stroking Natasha's wet folds, her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned at the feeling of your fingers. The crowd had gone wild, their cheers and catcalls egging you on as you brought Wanda closer and closer to the edge. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her breathing shallow as she neared her climax. You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her body begging for release.

"P...please...." Wanda's voice was a breathless whisper as she bobbed up and down on the strap-on. Her body was trembling with need, her orgasm so close it was palpable in the air. You could feel it in the way she clenched around you, in the way her thighs quivered, and in the desperate little sounds she was making. It was driving you crazy, the desire to give in and let her come was almost too much to bear. But you held firm, your hand now on Natasha's throat, keeping her at bay.

"Please..." you mocked Wanda, egging her to beg more. "Please, what?" Her eyes snapped open, and you knew you had her just where you wanted her. "Please, let me come," she begged, her raspy voice barely above a whisper. You could hear the heaviness of her accent slipping through, a dead giveaway that she was beyond ready.

"That's a good girl, Wands. See, Natasha?" you turned your gaze from the panting mess bouncing up and down on your lap to see the blown eyes of the redhead who had shifted so she was on her knees, her knuckles white as she grasped the arm of the chair. She nodded frantically, acknowledging your statement. "This is what happens when you're a good slut," you whispered, watching Natasha's eyes flicker with desire.

Wanda's eyes snapped open, and she looked at Natasha, the two of them sharing a moment of pure, unadulterated hunger. "Come for us," you murmured, your voice thick with the desire that coated the room. And with that, Wanda's body tightened around you, her back arching as she let out a scream that could have shattered glass. You felt the warmth of her orgasm through the toy, and it was all you could do to hold on to Natasha's neck as you watched her ride out the wave of pleasure.

You felt a dripping sensation as you looked down, a devilish grin on your face. Wanda had squirted all over your chest, the makeup now barely present on your chest as the combination of sweat and her arousal had long since worn it off. You looked at Natasha, her eyes glued to the spot between Wanda's legs, watching the show with a hunger that hadn't been there before. You knew that she was desperate to feel that same pleasure, but you weren't quite done with Wanda yet.

You gently lifted Wanda off the length that was nestled between her thighs, a whimper leaving her as the toy left her with a distinctive sloshing. Sliding down off the cushion of the chair, you sat on the ground in front of it, grasping Wanda’s thighs and pulling her towards you. She had no energy to protest, as the sudden shift caused her to lose her balance and brace herself using the arms of the chair as you kissed up to the apex of her thighs. Sliding one hand around to her ass, you cupped one of her cheeks as you pushed her towards your waiting mouth.

Her pussy was a mess of cum and sweat, the scent of her desire intoxicating. You didn't hesitate, burying your face in her folds and licking up the juices that had pooled at her entrance. You heard Natasha whine but ignored her, focusing solely on the trembling form of your other partner. Wanda's legs gave out slightly, but you kept her upright, her back arching as you began to suck and nibble at her clit. The taste of her was divine, and you felt the cock pulse below you.

You reached down, stroking the length with your other hand as you continued to devour Wanda as she hovered above you. The strap-on was slick with her juices, and you couldn't help but revel in the power you had over both of them and moan at the feeling. Natasha watched, her eyes wide with lust as she felt her arousal build once again, unable to touch herself thanks to your earlier punishment.

Wanda's legs began to quiver, her breath coming in gasps as you brought her closer and closer to another peak. The room was a symphony of moans and whispers, the tension palpable as everyone watched the intimate scene unfold before them. You felt Natasha's eyes on you, so you shifted your head so you could look at her while you worked your tongue through her wife's folds. Her eyes were wide with desire, and she was visibly fighting the handcuffs, trying to free herself so she could get some relief.

You chuckled darkly, enjoying the power you had over Natasha's body and the way her chest heaved with frustration. "Do you like watching?" you taunted her, your voice muffled by Wanda's pussy. "You want a taste?" You didn't wait for Natasha to respond before pulling away from Wanda's clit, leaving it pulsing and swollen and her crying out in frustration. You stood up, the strap-on still slick with Wanda's juices, and approached Natasha. She leaned forward, her eyes never leaving yours, as she took the length into her mouth, sucking and licking at her wife's arousal coating the strap.

The crowd watched with rapt attention as Natasha's eyes rolled back in pleasure, her mouth moving with renewed enthusiasm. You smirked, knowing she was desperate to come, her punishment only making her more eager. You reached down, stroking her cheek with the back of your hand as you felt your orgasm building. Wanda's legs were shaking; her eyes glossed over with desire as she watched Natasha service the toy. You pulled the witch up by her chin, kissing her passionately as she kneeled in the seat, her hands resting next to Natasha's. You continued to thrust into Nat's mouth, panting into your kiss with Wanda as the feeling of the spy's tongue against the enchanted toy caused you to quickly approach your climax. You moaned as she pulled away with a pop before fully engorging herself onto the length.

Plunging your other hand back into the soaked depths of Wanda's core, you quickly worked her back up, matching her crescendo as you commanded her to come at the same time as you. You could feel her inner walls clench around your fingers, and Natasha's eyes went wide as she felt the toy throb in her mouth, knowing you were about to climax. With a roar, you came, the force of it pushing Natasha back slightly, the strap-on spurting a stream of sticky cum that hit her in the face. She took it all, her eyes never leaving yours as the warm fluid coated her cheeks and mouth, her tongue eagerly lapping up every drop.

Wanda's knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the throne, her body trembling from the intensity of the shared orgasm. You stepped back, the strap-on still pulsing slightly as Natasha's eyes remained locked on it, her desire unquenched. You reached down, unbuckling the handcuffs, and Natasha's eyes widened in anticipation of what was to come next.

"Now, it's your turn," you murmured, your voice thick with lust as you pulled Natasha up from her knees. She stumbled slightly, her legs weak from the prolonged arousal and the recent punishment. Wanda watched with a mix of satisfaction and hunger, her chest still heaving from the powerful climax you had just given her. You led Natasha to the chair, pushing her down so she sat straddled in front of it, her legs spread wide, displaying her wet pussy to the eager crowd. You pushed her face down, burying it into Wanda's pussy as you slammed into the redhead, a loud, guttural moan escaping you as her tight heat enveloped the strap.

The crowd watched, their eyes glued to the trio, as you fucked Natasha with the same intensity that had brought Wanda to her peak. Natasha's muffled moans were music to your ears, her body squirming with each deep thrust, her tongue still working Wanda's clit. The fortune teller leaned back into the throne, her hands tangled in Natasha's hair as she felt another wave of pleasure crash around her.

"Now, Natasha," you growled, pulling her face away from Wanda's pussy. "You've been a good girl, watching and waiting. But I think it's time you got what you've been begging for." You grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her around so she faced the audience, her back pressed against the chair. With one swift motion, you buried the strap-on into her, making her gasp loudly. The room was alive with lust and arousal, the air thick with the scent of sex as the crowd watched you claim her or they pleased their partners.

Natasha's eyes rolled back in her head, her legs spread wide and her back arching as you began to fuck her in earnest. Her moans grew louder with every thrust, echoing through the room, and you could feel the power of your control over her body as she responded to your every move. Wanda watched, her desire rekindling as she saw Natasha's pleasure. "Good girl," you murmured, your voice a low growl of approval. "Take it all for us."

The crowd was entranced, their eyes locked on the three of you as you moved together in a dance of dominance and submission. You could feel Natasha's muscles tightening around the strap-on, her orgasm approaching like a freight train. You leaned in, biting her ear as you whispered, "Cum for us, Natasha. Show them what a good slut you are."

Her eyes snapped open at your words, and she nodded frantically, her moans growing more desperate. You reached around her, pinching her nipples hard, watching as her back arched away from your chest. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, Natasha's moans growing louder with each thrust. Wanda leaned forward, her hand slipping between Natasha's legs to rub her clit in time with your strokes. The redhead's eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream as you both pushed her towards her climax.

The room was alive with the sound of passion; the other partygoers had forgotten their own desires as they watched the three of you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. You felt Natasha's muscles tighten around the strap-on and knew she was close. You didn't relent, instead pushing deeper, your rhythm never faltering. Wanda's hand moved faster, her other hand gripping Natasha's hip as she helped you drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Natasha's eyes rolled back, her body writhing in ecstasy as she approached climax. The sight was too much for some in the audience, and you could hear the faint sounds of others reaching their peaks as they watched the erotic display unfold before them. You leaned in, your breath hot against Natasha's neck as you whispered, "Cum for me, Natasha. Show them how much you love being my little slut."

Her response was immediate, her body tensing as she screamed out her orgasm. The room seemed to pulse with the force of it, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire. You could feel her pussy spasm around the strap-on, her legs quivering uncontrollably as she rode the wave. You didn't stop, keeping your rhythm steady and deep as Natasha's body convulsed in pleasure, her moans echoing through the room.

Wanda's eyes were glossed over with lust as she watched Natasha's climax, her arousal evident in the way she ground against the chair, her hand moving between her legs in a silent testament to her own need. You withdrew the strap-on from Natasha's trembling body, her eyes glazed over and her mouth open in a silent O of pleasure. You turned to Wanda, the toy still pulsing with Natasha's orgasm, and offered it to her, a silent invitation for her to taste her wife's pleasure.

Wanda took it without hesitation, her eyes never leaving yours as she licked the length clean, savoring the taste of Natasha's release. The sight sent a thrill through you, and you knew the night was far from over. You stepped away from the throne, Natasha's legs quivering as she tried to stand before you. You offered her a hand, pulling her to you, before trapping her lips in a scolding kiss. You could feel the power thrumming between the three of you, a heady mix of desire and dominance that was intoxicating.

"Now, Natasha," you murmured against her lips, "it's time for your punishment." You led her to a nearby table, bending her over the edge. The room was still silent, the tension palpable as the crowd watched, eager to see what would come next. You eased the strap back into her, burying it to the hilt before you leaned forward. "I want you to count for me, baby. If you miss a number, we start over. Got it?"

Natasha nodded, her breathing heavy with anticipation. You began to spank her, each slap echoing through the room. With each slap, you delivered a powerful thrust, nailing her G-spot every time. The sound of your hand connecting with her flesh was a symphony of power and passion, and she counted off the numbers, her voice trembling with every thrust. "One... two... three..." The crowd was spellbound, some whispering to each other, others touching themselves, unable to resist the eroticism of the scene.

Wanda, now standing beside you, watched with a mix of love and hunger. She reached out, caressing Natasha's back, her hand gliding down to her ass to feel the heat rising from the spanking. Her desire was evident in the way she bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving the spot where your bodies connected. You felt her hand sneak around Natasha's body, her fingers sliding into Natasha's wetness, joining the strap-on in a delicious dance of dominance and desire.

The combined feeling of Natasha's walls clenching around the toy and Wanda's fingers sliding in to join was almost too much for you to bear. You picked up the pace, your hand coming down harder and faster with each number she called out. The crowd watched, their eyes glued to the three of you as the scene grew more intense. You could feel Natasha's body beginning to shake, her voice growing weaker as the pleasure mounted.

"Eigh...nine..." she gasped, her voice breaking on the last number. You stopped abruptly, pulling the strap-on out of her making her whimper. "What was that, Natasha?" you asked, your voice a mix of mock anger and amusement. "Did you forget your place?" She nodded, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glazed over with desire. You knew she was begging for more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

With a smirk, you leaned down, whispering into her ear, "You know what happens when you're a naughty slut, don't you?" She moaned in response, pushing her ass back against the cold, hard table. You stepped back, admiring the view of her reddened skin and the way her legs trembled with anticipation. You gestured to Wanda, who stepped closer, a wicked glint in her eyes.

The crowd was enamored by the show you three were putting on, captivated by your dynamic. Their eyes were either glued to the three of you, their whispers a backdrop to Natasha's counting, or they were creating thier symphony of moans, screams, and skin slapping as they chased thier highs. You could feel the anticipation in the air, the thrill of watching something so intimate and raw. Wanda's hand joined yours, both of you spanking Natasha in unison, her moans growing louder with each smack. "Ten... eleven..." she gasped, her voice strained.

With each number, your strokes grew more intense, and Wanda's fingers curled inside Natasha's pussy, feeling the wetness that was yours alone to give her. You watched Natasha's body tense, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. The power in the room shifted, your dominance over Natasha clear as day, and Wanda's submission to your will just as palpable. Her hand in yours, the two of you punished Natasha's ass in a rhythmic dance of pain and pleasure that had the entire room on the edge of their seats.

Natasha's legs began to shake uncontrollably as you delivered blow after blow, as her wife continued to stretch her walls. "Come for us, Nat," you growled, leaning forward so your breath tickled the shell of her ear. "Come like the good little slut you are."

With a final scream, Natasha's orgasm crashed over her, her body collapsing onto the table as Wanda's fingers slid out, and you slid the strap back into her, helping Nat to ride out her orgasm. You could feel her pussy tighten around the strap-on, her muscles pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. You didn't miss a beat, pulling Natasha upright, the strap-on still deep within her. She leaned heavily against you, panting and spent, her eyes half-closed with pleasure.

Wanda stepped in front of Natasha, her hand reaching for the toy that was still buried deep inside her. You watched as she began to grind against it, her eyes locking onto Natasha's as she whispered, "Look how good you're taking Y/N, Nat." Natasha's eyes widened, and she nodded, her breathing ragged as she watched her wife's face contort with pleasure. You could feel Natasha's pussy clench around the strap-on with every movement Wanda made, and you knew she was just moments away from another orgasm. You reached around, pinching the redhead's nipples, tweaking them as you pulled her towards you.

"Wait for me, Nat. Don't cum until I say," Wanda's voice growled as she watched, her eyes dark with lust. Natasha nodded, her body a taut bowstring of desire, her eyes pleading for release.

Your thrusts began to grow more erratic, the pleasure building in your core. You could feel Natasha's need, her body begging for more, but you held off, savoring the moment, the power of the scene.

Wanda leaned in, her breath hot on Natasha's neck as she whispered, "Tell us when you're close." Natasha's eyes squeezed shut, her voice barely above a whimper, "Now. Oh god, now." You smirked, giving a final, deep thrust before pulling the strap-on out, leaving her pussy gaping and wet. The audience watched, their breaths bated as Wanda took Natasha's place, straddling the chair with an eager look in her eyes. You didn't waste a moment, sliding the toy back into her, watching as her eyes rolled back in pleasure.

Natasha's hands found their way to her chest, pinching and twisting her nipples in time with your movements, her moans joining the chorus of the room. The sight was more than you could handle, and with a roar, you came, the strap-on spurting a thick load of cum into Wanda's pussy. She moaned her climax building, her body trembling as the warmth coated her skin. You didn't stop, your hips moving in a relentless rhythm as Natasha's hand slipped between her wife's legs, circling her clit as she stumbled over the edge again.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the room vibrating with the energy of the moment. You stepped away from the chair, the strap-on still pulsing as you watched Natasha collapse into Wanda's arms. The two of them kissed, sharing the taste of victory and desire, Natasha's cum mixing with Wanda's arousal. You felt a thrill run through you, watching them together, knowing you were the one who had brought them to this point.

Carefully, you slipped the strap off your hips, the enchanted phallus still twitching from the intensity of the shared release. Natasha and Wanda clung to each other, their kisses deep and hungry, fueled by the aftermath of their public display of submission and dominance. The warm stickiness between Wanda's thighs was a testament to your power, a visual symbol of the pleasure you had wielded so masterfully. You felt a thrill of pride as Natasha looked over at you, her eyes glowing with a mix of love and admiration. You stepped closer, reaching out to cup Wanda's cheek, bringing her attention to you as well. The three of you shared a moment of silent understanding, the power dynamics pulsing between you like an invisible force.

Valkyrie herself approached, her eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and desire. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "That was quite a performance," she purred. "I never knew you had it in you."

"Back off, Val," you warned your voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Natasha's spine as she clung to Wanda. Wanda's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a hint of jealousy in them, but she quickly softened under your hardened gaze, remembering her place. You turned to the crowd, your chest heaving with exertion, the strap-on still in your hand, dripping with Natasha's cum. "Val, it's never wise to covet what's not yours," you said, a smug smile playing on your lips as you stepped closer to Natasha, who was still trying to catch her breath.

The room went quiet again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You knew everyone was watching, waiting for what would happen next. You reached out, stroking Natasha's cheek with the back of your hand, smearing a line of cum across it. "Let me call the driver, let's get home," you murmured, the softness of your voice a stark contrast to the raw power you had just displayed. You collected the costumes, giving Wanda and Natasha a moment to recover. The crowd parted as you led the way, the air thick with the scent of sex and the electricity of unspoken desires.

"Let us go home and get cleaned up," you start. Natasha and Wanda let out a contented sigh. They nodded in unison, their faces flushed with pleasure and a hint of exhaustion from the intense experience. You wrapped thier coats around them, leading the way out of the party, the sound of the crowd's applause and whispers following you as you exit the grand ballroom.

The cool night air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere you just left behind. The thrill of the performance was still with you, the power dynamics resonating in your very core. "Thank you," Wanda murmured, her voice barely audible as she leaned into you, her hand finding yours. Natasha walked on your other side, her arm wrapped around your waist, her eyes on the ground, the picture of submissive satisfaction.

As you approached the limo, the driver held the door open, his eyes averted respectfully. You slid into the plush interior, Natasha settling onto your lap, her legs spread wide, inviting Wanda to straddle you both. The door clicked shut, and the car glided into the night, leaving the party and its prying eyes behind. "So," you began, your voice a purr of satisfaction. "What shall we do next?"

[bernardsgfs]

vegas virgin | c.s

© bernardsgfs

chris sturniolo x female reader

warnings: swearing, smut

preview: you tag along with chris and matt on a las vegas trip when something unexpected happens

lowercase intended

(feels rushed so sorry | first fanfic)

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y/n has been friends with the triplets for a long time, she’s had different relationships with all of them, she’s really good friends with nick, y/n tells nick pretty much everything. matt has always been the sweetest to her ever since they’ve met, while their younger brother, chris hates her and couldn’t care less. you were currently sitting on their couch waiting for them to come down to go on a plane to las vegas with them to watch their brothers game while nick was god knows where. ”you ready to go?” matt asks me, walking down the stairs. He plops down on the soft couch opposite from you looking at you. you nod slowly looking down at your phone. “chris doesn’t want you to come with us.. but I insisted.” matt says smiling. “why does he hate me anyways?” You ask. “I genuinely have no clue.” he says standing up. chris slowly comes downstairs, sighing as he rolls his eyes when he sees me sitting at the couch with my suitcase next to me. “is she seriously coming.” he asks matt as I slowly look up “yes she’s seriously coming chris.” chris opens the front door “whatever..” he mutters, carrying his bags out to the car. “sorry about that y/n” matt says quietly, making sure chris doesn’t hear. “it’s fine” you say shrugging it off, following them to the car.

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-later in the airplane-

CHRIS POV

It was dark on the plane with most passengers asleep, we were almost there and I was forced to sit next to y/n. I sigh, looking out the window, as y/n’s head lays on my shoulder fast asleep. music playing in my ears as the hood of my sweatshirt lays on top of my hair. I feel y/n move slightly next to me. I turn my head watching her sleep peacefully, her chest moving up and down slowly. I move my hand to brush the strands of hair shielding her face. as I turn back to look out the window I hear matt come back from the bathroom, he gives me a confused look, looking down at y/n. matt sits down and pulls out his phone to start texting me.

(a/n: imagine the text color blue, sorry)

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-next day-

Y/N POV

I sit against the bench feeling the warm night breeze, I scroll on my phone waiting for matt and chris to come out from justin’s game. I wait patiently until I hear someone call my name. I snap my head up from my phone and look around to see matt waving at me from the front door of the building. I stand up and walk to matt, seeing chris stare at me intently as matt and justin laugh at an inside joke, I stare at chris back until matt turns his head to talk to me. “You hungry?” he asks me “very.” I say and giggle as I walk with matt to the car with chris and justin walking behind us.

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we slowly walk to our table as the waiter places down the menus and walks off. as I sit down I see chris move his hand to his pants slowly readjusting them looking away from me. I ignore it and look down at the menu in my hand as I feel eyes burning into my head, knowing it’s chris I brush it off, matt nudges my arm next to me. “what are you getting?” he asks softly, “probably fettuccine alfredo” I say smiling, he nods and looks back down. I look up at chris to see him already looking at me, I watch his eyes slowly wander down to my lips and quickly look back up at my eyes. I blush and look back down at my menu.

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as I finish my food I put the fork on the plate and put my dirty napkin on top of it. “I have to go to the bathroom really quick.” I say getting up. “me too actually..” I hear chris say, I turn around to try and talk to him but instead feel chris pushing me against the bathroom door and pinning me onto the wall “c-chris..!” “fuck don’t speak.” He says as he quickly pushes his lips against mine. I whimper quietly as he taps my leg, I jump up wrapping my legs around his waist feeling a hard bulge underneath “c-chris I don’t know-“ a stifled moan from my mouth interrupts me as I feel his lips against my neck. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since we stepped off that plane.” he says breathing heavily, his hands find its way under my skirt tugging at my thong as I bite my lip softly “off.” chris mumbles as I help him pull off my thong, I gasp as I feel his fingers rub my clit, “c-chris” I moan. “you’re a virgin right?” He asks still rubbing my clit. I nod responding with a weak “mhm” leaning my head back. “I’ll go soft don’t worry” he says pushing 2 fingers in, I gasp and grip onto his shirt, he smirks kissing my neck slowly tugging at the top of my tank top with his teeth. He pulls out his fingers and shoves them back in over and over again as I moan and flinch on top of him. “fuck.” I hear him mumble as I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter. He rubs my clit with his thumb while sucking on my neck and I grip tighter at his shirt, my knuckles turning white. “I-“ a wave of pleasure hits me as I feel my orgasm spill out onto his fingers. “good girl” he whispers kissing my cheek, he pulls my thong back on me and sets me down, bringing his 2 fingers to his mouth sucking my juices off as he walks out back to the table. I sit on the floor panting heavily as I wrap my head around what just happened. I struggle to stand back up and open the bathroom door getting ready to go back to the table where everyone else is.

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[maybe-im-dark]

Rugged choices

Logan stepped into the dusty secondhand clothing store, his eyes scanning the racks of well-worn shirts and faded jeans. The air inside was heavy with the familiar scent of old leather and aged fabric, the kind of smells that always put him at ease. Without hesitation, he made a beeline for the racks, already flipping through the clothes as if he had been here a hundred times before.

Wade, however, came to a sudden stop just inside the door, looking around in bewilderment, his arms thrown out wide in exaggerated confusion.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Wade exclaimed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cramped store. “Logan, we just got handed a stack of TVA-cash the size of a small country’s GDP, and this is where you want to spend it? A secondhand store?”

Logan didn’t bother looking up from the rack of flannel shirts he was flipping through. He pulled one out, a red-and-black plaid that had clearly seen better days, and held it up, his nostrils flaring slightly as he sniffed the fabric.

“Don’t like the smell of new stuff,” Logan muttered, tossing the shirt over his arm. “Chemicals. Hurts my nose.”

Wade blinked, his brain working to process Logan’s explanation. Slowly, he nodded in acceptance, though his bewilderment was far from gone.

“Huh. Okay, that actually makes sense. Super senses and all.” Wade paused, then threw his arms out again in an exaggerated gesture. “But come on, man! You could be rocking designer leather jackets, limited edition jeans, silk boxers—the whole nine yards!”

Logan ignored him, already pulling another flannel shirt from the rack, this one in muted blue and green. He sniffed it, grunted his approval, and added it to the pile in his arms. It wasn’t long before the pile grew to include several more flannels in different colors, along with faded jeans and plain white undershirts.

Wade watched with a growing smirk as Logan’s choices all started to blend into a singular aesthetic.

“So we’re just committing fully to the lumberjack aesthetic, huh?” Wade teased, leaning on a nearby rack. “Maybe pick up an axe while we’re at it, chop some wood, live in the woods, grow an even bigger beard. Real 'I’m-going-off-the-grid' vibes.”

Logan stopped rifling through the clothes just long enough to glare at Wade, his patience visibly thinning.

“Better than prancing around in pink Hello Kitty shirts and leggings two sizes too tight,” Logan shot back, his voice low and sharp as he pointed at Wade’s current outfit—a ridiculous hot pink Hello Kitty tee and a pair of black leggings that left nothing to the imagination.

Wade, ever the showman, grinned beneath his mask and struck a pose.

“Touché, Logan,” he said with a wink. “But I make this work. Not everyone can pull off this level of hotness.”

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbed his pile of clothes, and headed toward the checkout without another word. Wade followed close behind, still grinning like a kid who had just gotten away with something.

A little while later, they found themselves walking through the sunlit car dealership lot. Logan moved with the same deliberate focus he had shown in the clothing store, his eyes scanning the rows of cars with little interest. To him, they all seemed impractical, too flashy for his tastes.

Wade, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement as he raced ahead, his eyes zeroing in on a sleek, cherry-red sports car parked under the sunlight. He darted toward it like a moth to a flame, throwing himself over the hood with a dramatic sigh.

“THIS ONE!” Wade shouted, running his hands over the smooth surface of the car. “This is it! The Wade-mobile! Look at her, Logan—pure power, pure speed. A sexy beast, just like me!”

Logan stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with mild disdain. He shook his head, his voice flat and unimpressed.

“You look like an idiot,” Logan said.

Without hesitation, he walked over and grabbed Wade by the back of his collar, yanking him off the car with a gruff grunt. Wade stumbled, barely managing to stay upright as Logan dragged him away, heading straight for the section of the lot where the used pickup trucks were parked.

“Come on, man, live a little!” Wade complained, rubbing the back of his neck as he followed Logan. “We’ve got all this cash, and you’re going for a pickup truck? You’re not a soccer mom.”

Logan’s eyes landed on an old, battered truck with faded paint and a few dings in the side. It looked sturdy, reliable—just the way he liked things. He opened the driver’s side door, inspecting the interior with a thoughtful grunt. The worn leather seats, the lack of fancy electronics—everything about it spoke to him.

“I don’t buy what I don’t need,” Logan said, running his hand over the dashboard. “This has enough room, no fancy electronics. Just how I like it.”

Wade looked utterly flabbergasted, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“But… sports cars! Leather seats! Bluetooth everything! Cup holders that hold more cups than you could ever drink from!”

Logan gave him a flat look.

“This does the job. I’m not gonna buy something I’ll hate driving,” Logan said, his tone final.

Wade slumped against the truck, his head hanging in defeat.

“You’re like… an old man stuck in a body that’s technically old but still kinda jacked,” Wade muttered, sulking. “It’s such a waste. This truck screams 'I live in a cabin and don’t talk to people.'”

Logan ignored him and went into the building to buy the car. Wade waited outside, shooting the sports car longing looks. After a while his partner came back.

Logan climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements efficient and calm. The truck’s engine growled to life with a low, rumbling purr, and Logan smirked just a little as he looked over at Wade.

With a resigned sigh, Wade hopped into the passenger seat, his pink Hello Kitty shirt standing out like a sore thumb against the muted, rugged interior of the truck.

“You and your cabin-man aesthetic… Whatever,” Wade muttered, leaning back in his seat. “Just know, when I get my sports car, you’re driving behind me. And I’ll make sure it’s painted Wolverine yellow, just for you.”

Logan didn’t bother responding, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pulled out of the lot, the old truck rumbling steadily beneath them. Wade, never one to be silent for long, leaned over conspiratorially.

“Next stop, Taco Bell? My treat,” Wade offered.

Logan remained silent, eyes on the road, but Wade took it as a yes.

“That’s the Logan I know and tolerate,” Wade said with a grin.

As they rumbled down the road in the beat-up old truck, Wade continued to chatter away about the missed opportunity of getting a sports car, but Logan was content. Simple, reliable—that’s all he needed. And maybe, just maybe, some peace and quiet.

But with Wade sitting beside him, that last part was a long shot.

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

so all ive been able to think about is gotham for the past several days, and more specifically how gothamite culture has to be SO drastically different and jarring to literally anywhere else in the world. Like even other super cities like metropolis, or central city, or wherever else are at least KINDA normal. Like yea u have superman or wonderwoman or the flash but they dont really have to deal with the same level of bs as Gotham.

That being said here are a list of things that I think are extremely normal to Gotham, and other things that happen in thay horrible little city:

• the episode of Hot Ones with Brucie Wayne where no one thinks he’ll even be able to stand the 2nd or 3rd wing but he eats all of them with no reaction, and Sean Evans (or the in universe equivalent) just sits there like “wow no one has ever had literally no reaction before this is really crazy, and Bruce Wayne of all people?” Afterwards Bruce has second thoughts and realizes that maybe he should have played up his reaction to the spice a bit more. People Inside of Gotham are a little shocked because everytime he eats in public it is the most boring, bland, flavorless food imaginable. (he handled the spice so well because Batman is ready for all potential threats and forms of torture. Ridiculous levels of spice included)

• Gotham schools offer courses in self defense. In some school districts its actually mandatory, thats usually in old gotham or downtown gotham. In more affluent areas, self defense is still taught in schools, but most kids are sent to some ritzy trainer to make sure they can defend themselves.

• No one even blinks when theres a new vigilante by the time Damian comes around. Theres still a little buzz but by the time Duke shows up, people are like “Oh cool another one. HEY BRO WHATS YOUR NAME.” I saw someone post here about how when the Wayne kids get mad at Bruce, they go to Selina and make public appearances as Stray, Catwomans sidekick. I personally believe that Tim was the first one to do it but Dick does it the most, and gothamites didnt even need to get used to Stray showing up sometimes, nor did people really care that Stray was always wildly different heights, shapes, colors, etc. the additude is kinda like “I have taxes and job security to worry about. If a new vigilante is what were doing then so be it.”

• People tend to think that Gothamites aren’t smart, but that city is home to the Richest, smartest, most creative people alive. They mostly just lack morals. Like Dr. Freeze, Harley Quinn, hell even The Riddler are all insanely intelligent. Half of Gothams Villains have at minimum 2 Doctorates in something or other. Gotham generates a lot of cash as a whole, and small businesses thrive there. They have high employment rates, and most citizens have their associates despite everything happening around them. People who have never been to Gotham before expect to have to talk down to the citizens but Gothamites just kinda roll their eyes at them and carry on about their merriment.

• Gothamites CONSTANTLY says “because I’m Batman” when they don’t want to explain themselves. Kids hear it a lot from parents and they also get “If you don’t go to sleep, Condiment Man i gonna come and cover you in stinky relish.” Because truly what else is condiment man good for.

• Gothamites who work at BatBurger and typically work the night shift are used to visits from Batman, Robin, Red Hood, Cat Woman, Harley Quinn, etc. Sometimes they remember the workers and ask about their family, and how life is, and other things like that. Theres some barely 18 y/o who just graduated high school who worls at Bat Burger, and asked Red Hood to help him impress his gf by saying theyre friends. He like fuck it why not and tells the gf that the kid helped him save an old lady’s cat in a tree and now theyre bffs. She totally believes it. Score.

• I see the Gotham thinks Batman is Bruce Wayne’s boyfriend theories and raise you: Its pretty common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is Batman, just no one has the heart to tell him. Also theyre scared he will quit if anyone brings it up. So from this Gothamites created the joke that BW and batman are dating and when asked about it in an interview, dick grayson is like “……yes! My adoptive father is dating the guy who dressed up like a bat every night…!”

• this cuased and arguement between Bruce and Dick because no! Bruce isnt dating Batman! (stray was seen again that week) HE IS BATMAN! But fuck now the public thinks theyre a couple so now bruce gets asked about it and hes like “haha yes my spooky bat bf is who i love very dearly!” As punishment He makes Dick bring him flowers in the batsuit because “as far as he is concerned, this is his shithead son’s fault.” Thats a direct quote btw. Little does he know this somehow ties back to Tim Drake before they met.

[qin-qin16]

cw.: Dust x Reader, gn!reader, almost non verbal Dust, fluff, Dust lacks communication skills, reader is trying their best to understand him, he actually cares about reader?!

note: He was the first skeleton I wrote about, so I wanted to go back to write a little about him again :D

Dust had always been unusually quiet — almost eerily so. Unlike his counterparts, Killer and Nightmare, he preferred to remain in the background, barely joining in on dinners or group training sessions.

That was fine; you never judged him for it (well, maybe a little at first, to be honest). However, it wasn’t just his isolation and silence that troubled you; it was the lack of communication.

You knew he wasn’t much of a talker — it was possible to count on one hand the times you’d heard his voice — but his complete stillness meant you couldn’t read any body language from him. And if that wasn’t enough, there was also the hood.

That damn hood. If only you could see his face, maybe you’d understand Dust better. Perhaps those bicolored eyes would be more expressive than his lack of movement, or maybe even a smirk, a furrowed brow, or a look of disdain would be more revealing than this complete absence of expression.

Inevitably, your hands went to your face, massaging your temples with some unnecessary force. All these questions and uncertainties were making your headache worse — and Killer’s incessant chatter during breakfast didn’t help at all.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let your mind drift, trying to imagine Dust's possible expressions. Does he maintain eye contact, or does he look away constantly? Does he have any habits like biting his tongue or lips, as you do?

Despite your efforts, nothing comes to mind. It’s already difficult enough to picture Dust doing anything other than sitting still on the couch, watching TV, or standing silently in a corner observing the others. Imagining a range of expressions on his face feels even more daunting — almost impossible.

As you sink further into the couch, feeling a slight ache in your back from the uncomfortable position, a weary sigh escapes your lips.

Just as you’re about to get frustrated with your lack of creativity, a poke on your cheek snaps you back to reality.

“Not now, Killer, you know I’ve got a splitting headache—” you start to say, but your words trail off when you open your eyes and see it isn’t Killer beside you, but the skeleton that’s been occupying your thoughts recently.

Still a bit taken aback, you almost miss the mug he’s offering, gently nudging it toward you as a signal to take it.

“Uh, thanks?” You carefully take hold of the mug, quickly grasping the handle when you realize how hot it is.

You soon catch a faint aroma wafting from the mug. Without hesitation, you inspect the liquid inside: judging by the color and smell, it’s definitely tea, though you can’t tell if it’s magical or herbal.

“It’s mint.” In an instant, your gaze locks onto Dust, who is still standing beside you.

This is one of the few times he’s directly addressed you (maybe the third? Certainly the first time he’s spoken so calmly), and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback.

Dust was offering you tea. Tea. Something usually associated with soothing physical pain and fatigue. Has this Dust actually gone so far as to prepare, serve, and offer tea to you? Did he know about your headache? Wait a minute—

Was he trying to ease your headache?

“Drink it slowly; it’s hot.” And just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned and began to walk away, his steps slow and shuffling. You couldn’t help but wince at the sound of his slippers scraping against the floor.

“Um…” You mutter, your gaze returning to the mug and watching the steam rise gently from it.

Your lips quiver slightly; even though it was a simple gesture, it had deeply touched your heart.

Maybe Dust wasn’t as expressionless and distant as you had believed.

( @howlsofbloodhounds ) forget to tag you moot

[softagenda]

paralysis (mhin)

mhin x reader(f)

aphrodisiac au / short fic (cw: mature, slightly gory)

series: sweet poison (scenario-based collection of character imagines)

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Prologue

You’re an idiot for drinking that. An absolute idiot.

You’re spilled across the floor, head swimming, burning from the inside as though you’d swallowed a star. The velvet rug brushed soft and cloying against your prickling skin as you squirmed, your heart pounding in your ears and beating an insistent rhythm in your groin.

Cooing at you from the table, her cat’s eyes curled in satisfaction, Morgana asked, “Something the matter? You look positively feverish.” She twirled a curly black lock around her finger.

Bitch. 

Paintings of naked people - bathing in springs, dancing around a fire, having an orgy in front of a temple - swirled into one colorful blob as you turned on your side, fisting the rug. You attempted to pull yourself to where you remembered the door but stalled a couple inches in, weak as a newborn kitten and stifling a moan as your body rubbed on the carpet.

“Now, now, where’s the fire? Stay a while.” She rose from her chair and stood over you, her arms crossing under her full chest. “You’re clearly hot under the collar. The thought of you wandering the streets like this concerns me deeply.”

You glared up at her, using every ounce of willpower not to writhe on the floor like a worm on a hook. Your hand felt clumsily around your hip for the dagger. 

“I’ll take that,” she chirped, snatching the weapon from your belt and tossing it behind her. “Can’t have you nicking that lovely skin.” Her heel braced on the other side of you, straddling your back. Her hands tugged the shirt from your waist before dragging warm palms up your back, her nails scratching on the return journey.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan rocketing through your chest, as every nerve in your body vibrated with electric pleasure. Your hips pressed hard into the floor, growing ever desperate for friction even as you struggled to focus.

Morgana sunk her hand into your nape, drawing your hair back from your face. When she leaned down to brush her painted lips against your ear, goosebumps erupted down your neck. “We’ll start with the bandages, shall we?”

______ prologue end _________

“For fucks’ sake,” a voice sighed from the shadows. 

Bone popped as Morgana’s head whipped around toward the noise, then a thunk as something lodged itself in her back, accompanied by the slick, gristly sound of knife cleaving meat. A shriek erupted from her throat. 

She flung herself to the right, hand reaching over her collar. Face pale, sweat beading across her brow, Morgana turned to face the back wall. A dagger lodged in her left shoulder, the fabric around the blade soaking with blood.

A cloaked figure leaned against the window. Though most of their form was cast in darkness, the moonlight caught the edge of silver hair just beneath the hood, swaying with the night’s breeze.

You twisted on the floor, every brush of the luxurious carpet like rubbing and prickling like a cat’s tongue.

“How brazen,” Morgana attempted her usual simpering tone, though her bared teeth somewhat diminished the effect. “Entering through the window, unannounced, uninvited - like a thief.”

“You’ve got nothing I want, Mistress of the Night.” Red pupils glowed in the night. They fixed first on Morgana, then your curled form on the ground. “Seriously? You fell for that?”

Silver hair. Red pupils. A cutting tongue. 

Mhin. 

You closed your eyes. Fuck your life. 

“I spy a familiar face. You skulk around the Senobium gates, yes?” Morgana had crept closer to the wall, where a velvet tassel hung from the drapery. “Begging the mages to let you in like an injured dove.”

Mhin’s eyes narrowed. Then with a flick of their wrist, a silver flash shot through the air. 

Morgana lunged, but the braided rope fell limp into her grasp. She cursed, painted lips finally twisting into an honest snarl. Her gaze then flickered toward the door but returned to Mhin. “It would seem that I do have something you want. What are your intentions here, hunter?”

“Saving a fool from themself.” A dagger danced beneath the moonlight, twisted within Mhin’s nimble fingers. “Whether you get caught in the crossfire is up to you.”

You swallowed around a dry throat. Somehow you doubted Morgana would shrug her shoulders and drop the issue peaceably - especially with a dagger biting into one of said shoulders. Craning your neck, you looked and sure enough liquid flames began to bubble from her hand.

“As they say, in the company of fools…” she sneered, fire twisting and slithering around her skin as magic pooled in her palm. 

“Back off, witch.” Mhin glared coldly. The knife froze, the blade lifted and pointed in her direction. 

Stuck on the floor between them, you fought desperately against the oppressive lethargy in your body. The drug burned through your veins until you felt scorched from the inside out, shaky and delirious with fever. Each attempt to move felt as though you rested on the bottom of the sea, strapped by weights and slowly drowning. Your head felt pressed by cotton on all sides.

You wriggled like a worm toward the table, seeking cover. At least the effects - flushed skin, dazed eyes - could disguise your mortification. You had worked so hard to earn Mhin’s trust. To cross the cavernous distance they placed between themself and others. 

For them to see you in this state… 

“Surely you know there will be consequences to your interference tonight,” said Morgana, her attention focused on the dagger. “Let’s not pretend. This little fool must mean something to you.”

For a moment, the calm malevolence oozing from Mhin’s expression disappeared, replaced by a look of flustered surprise. “Mean something? That wimp?” They scoffed, feet shuffling in agitation. “As if. Who would - for that - “

Mhin’s mouth paused, in the middle of what would undoubtedly be an insult. Their eyes fell on you, sweeping over your shivering body, lingering on the curve of your back as you tried to push yourself onto your elbows. They stopped on your face - and the heat prickling across your skin seemed to thicken even more at the humiliating thought of what you must look like there, writhing like a worm.

To your shock, Mhin blushed. Their body twisted abruptly, face angling away as a hand shot up as though to shield them from the sight of you. “You - the fuck are you looking at like that - “

Light flared in the room, heat exploding into the air. Capitalizing on their distraction, Morgana threw a whip of molten flame across the room, arcing across the distance between them. Mhin dropped below the strike into a crouch before darting forward in a flash of black and silver. 

Morgana jumped back and sliced the whip down once more - this time, not at Mhin but at you. 

Over your shoulder, you watched the whip serpentine through the air, the spiked end twisting toward you like the mouth of a fanged snake. You tried to push yourself over even as your elbows gave out and your arms trembled. Tucking your head, you braced for the pain when a shadow fell over you.

That searing cut of pain never came. Instead, you heard a short grunt and a muffled curse.

Mhin stood between the two of you, shielding your body. Their arm was braced outward, the flaming whip caught and coiled around their leather vambrace. You’d noticed that very first day that, despite their slender frame, Mhin had the strength of a goliath. They held firm against Morgana’s near frantic yanks on the whip, not budging a single inch.

“Guards!” She shouted, abandoning dignity, a flicker of fear in her eyes as Mhin twisted their arm and started pulling her toward them, wrapping the whip around their fist. Unflinching as the fire licked flesh, burning across their skin. “Guards!”

Mhin yanked the whip hard, pulling her forward and off her feet. The dagger swung upward and cut the cord in a shower of ashen sparks, freeing their right fist, which then shot forward with the force of a battering ram into Morgana’s cheek. 

Her body propelled through the air and slammed into the door. Beads and silk curtains ripped from their rods and draped down on top of her. She writhed under the fabric, her movements panicked and clumsy, not unlike a cat trapped beneath a sheet.

“Hey. Pay attention.”

Mhin crouched at your side. One arm wrapped around your waist as the other dragged your arm over their shoulders, heaving you off the ground. You gasped as the world spun in a swirl of melted colors around you, buckling against them as your knees struggled to support your weight. 

“Fuck.” They paused, propping you against their chest, breath puffing into your ear. Shivers raced down your spine. “Can’t even stand? Could you be more of a hindrance right now?”

Shamefaced, you bit your lip and muttered, “Sorry. Thanks for coming.”

Mhin’s body stiffened. They cleared their throat. “...nevermind. Just - grab on tight.”

You stumbled together toward the back of the room. The balcony door remained open to the night, a breeze carrying the noise of the street in from below. When they reached the railing, Mhin glanced over their shoulder and gritted their teeth. “Change of plans.”

“What?” You questioned dazedly, trying to follow their gaze, when Mhin dropped lower and drew you onto their back. Hands curled around your thighs with iron strength and hoisted you up. 

“Incoming. Don’t let go.” 

Don’t let - you choked back a yelp as Mhin stepped lithely onto the railing and jumped. Three yards of dead air sped below you before their boots caught the rooftop with an impact that shook your heart against your rib cage. Hands scrabbling at the front of their shirt, you tucked your face into the thick, navy cloak. 

Mhin darted across the skyline, leaping across a street and onto the bedraggled rooftop of an apartment building nearby. They paused, leaned perilously over the edge, before hiking upward toward the eave of a window. 

“Ah!” You gasped as your body’s tugged roughly off their back and braced on the window sill. “Mhin - “

A finger pressed against your lips. Mhin shot you a warning look before digging into a leather pouch strapped to their belt. They withdrew a small bottle, luminescent blue liquid sloshing inside. “Drink this,” they whispered. 

When you reached for the bottle, Mhin jerked it back and huffed. “Still haven’t learned your lesson?” At your confused look, they grumbled, “not even going to ask what’s inside? How do you know this isn’t poison? Maybe I’m finally getting rid of you, now that an opportunity and a convenient patsy have arrived.” 

You stared back at them, exhausted, feeling as though your brain could be seeping through your ears. “Because it’s you.”

Gray eyes widened in shock before their head jerked to the side, hiding their expression beneath a hasty veil of white hair. But you could see a glimpse of their ear. The pale skin around the top and shell had flushed pink. “That’s… naive. Foolishly so.”

You summoned a wobbly smile and added wryly, “anyway, if you were going to kill me, you would’ve let Morgana finish the job and saved yourself the trouble of coming at all. Why waste the energy?”

“Finally, a sign of intelligence,” they grumbled, before pressing the bottle against your palm and leaving to peer over the side of the roof again.

Hands trembling, you tried to bring the bottle to your mouth without spilling. The tremors seemed to grow worse even as you sagged into the window frame, all the energy and fight leaching from your body. Gods but you felt so hot. 

Footsteps thundered on the cobblestone street. Men shouted orders at each other, their words difficult to parse but easily understood. You were being pursued by Morgana’s private security. 

Hastening, you managed to bring the bottle to chest height, heavily leaning your arm there as the muscles gave out. You had to hurry and drink. You couldn’t slow them down anymore, not after the pathetic scene you’d made that night. Tears of frustration pooled at the corners of your eyes, further blurring your surroundings. 

“They’re sending a group toward the nearby watchtower. We need to get to safer ground.” Mhin returned. Their eyes caught sight of the trembling bottle. Their jaw dropped. “Why haven’t you - “

You gritted your teeth and tried again, managing to get the lip of the potion to tap against your chin. The effort had you closing your eyes, tears spilling down your cheeks. Everything felt like too much. Heat burned out of you, drenching you in sweat. Invisible stones bore down on your limbs. And even as your body burned with lust, your heart ached in fear and regret that Mhin would lose respect for you because of this, that the tentative partnership you’d worked so hard for had been ripped away from one mistake - one stupid blunder - 

A warm hand wrapped around the desperate grip you had on the bottle. Another tugged you into a firm chest - the cold, pleated cotton shirt soothing against your inflamed skin. Their fingers curled under as Mhin brought the potion to your mouth.

Wisps of moonlight hair brushed across your nose and brow. Dove gray eyes looked back - the ever-present caution and threat they had born for so long softening from within the shadows of the cloak. 

You stared up into their face, lost within the fog, all of a sudden feeling strangely content. Three sluggish swallows later, and the bottle emptied. 

Tired to your bones, you sagged against them, cheek pressed to their chest, blinking sleepily. Mhin’s grip on your jaw eased. Their thumb lingered, drifting almost as though to stroke your face. 

“Look at you,” they sighed, holding still for a quiet moment. You focused on breathing, their familiar scent of steel and linen filling your lungs. Their next words whispered against the top of your head. “Next time… call me before you jump into some harebrained scheme alone.”

___________________________________________________

a/n: I hope that I have correctly codified mhin as a tsundere....

[naomikozura]

Playing with Fire: Chapter 5

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, gun usage, bodily harm, gunshot wounds, reader's past, slight angst, use of pain drugs/inhibitors (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 8.7K

Summary: You don't imagine yourself getting caught in the middle of a difficult situation, especially not when you're being suspected by one of your boss's partners and being followed by your past. With Black Mask watching your every move, you have no choice but to turn to the last person you'd ever want to ask for help. What do you do when an underlying truth is revealed and a chance at leaving this life behind presents itself?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4 || Chapter 6

 Flash Back 

There was a calmness tonight, feeling the warmth on your skin as you walked up the stairs that led to the roof, your heart racing in your chest as you pushed the door open, your heart stopping in your chest. Robin stood on the roof, a picnic mat laid out, a few small drinks and food placed perfectly as Robin met your gaze. Your smile spread across your face, a warmth in your chest as he walked over to you, his devastating smile making your body feel giddy. 

“Hey, (Y/n).”, your eyes were bright as you looked up at him. Robin was tall, his dark hair slightly messy and his body muscular for a 16 year old. 

“Hey, Rob.”, you smiled at him, your arms around his body as he hugged you tightly. He smelled like woodsy musk, the smell making you feel safe and comfortable. 

“I have something for you.”, he pulled back, digging something out of his pocket as he held it out for you. “Happy Birthday, (Y/n)”

You gently took the small box, opening it to reveal a beautiful emerald green necklace on a silver chain, the stone a deep color in an oval shape. It was one of the prettiest pieces of jewelry you’d ever seen, and you’ve seen several pieces thanks to your adoptive mother. She had a wide range of jewelry and accessories made from the finest jewels and golds. All of them worth thousands if not hundreds of thousands, but this… this was worth far more than any expensive necklace someone could give.

You felt a rush of emotion, a tugging in your chest as you admired the green stone and touched it lightly, letting it sink in that Robin had just gotten you the best birthday gift ever. 

“I… It’s perfect, Rob.”, you smiled up at him, your eyes flooding with a glossy sheen as you held back a small flood of tears from overflowing. “I love it.”

“I’m glad. I saw it and I thought of you. I think it brings out your eyes.”, he smiled as he pulled the necklace out of the box, moving your hair to the side as he walked behind you, his hands going over your head and clasping it around your neck. He looked down at you with a warm glance, taking in how the necklace sat on you. “I guess I was right. It really does look pretty on you.”

“I didn’t even get you anything for your birthday..”

“Well, you don’t know my birthday, and second, even if you did, you are more than anything anyone could ever give me.”, he smirked while tilting his head. “You’re the only thing I could ever ask for.”

“You’re such a flirt.”, you shoved him gently, moving over to the small area where he laid down the picnic area. 

“I get it from my older brother.”, he shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow at him, “You have an older brother?”

“Yeah, he’s the golden boy of the family but I don’t mind. I prefer not being in the spotlight. Draws too much attention.”

“You say as you wear the Robin suit on a regular basis”, you joked as he let out a deep laugh, as he sat down next to you. He wore dark jeans and a gray long sleeve shirt, his eyes covered with sunglasses instead of his usual domino mask. It gave you a glimpse of what it would be like if the two of you had met under normal circumstances. Would you two meet up for dates? Would you meet his family? 

The thought left you warm inside. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, he cocked his head to the side, staring at you as you snapped out of your trance. “Just… thank you for making today a good Birthday.”, he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your lips, your mouth moving against his as you breathed him in. You didn’t want anything else but to be happy, and you found that in Robin. He showed you it was worthwhile living in Gotham, he understood your background, your struggles, your dreams. 

“Anything for you.”, he smiled.

Everything was perfect. 

~

“Y/n”, your head snapped up, meeting Penguin’s gaze. “Here is the paperwork for our partner.”. 

He handed over a packet that held all the paperwork for the Arkham Asylum release, reading over all the information. He was confirmed for release in three weeks. Had it already been two months since they had started the process to get him out? Sionis had hired him but knew it would be difficult to get him to fulfill the job unless Black Mask and Penguin worked on bailing him out. 

“We need to finalize the security transfer. You will go with the men to pick him up on his release to ensure no one can find that he’s out. Can’t have him getting a hit put in him either.”, you nodded as you took note of the date, committing it to memory. “You’ll be accompanied by Black Mask’s men, four guards and three drivers” 

Such a high profile prisoner. You didn’t question the why, you knew the reason and it made your stomach churn. You’d never met the man in person but you knew he was evil, maniacal, a psychopath. 

You wondered if he would actually be able to get the job done, especially since you already had suspicions of your inability to catch Red. You still couldn’t let Sionis get a leg up so easily. Penguin never questioned you or why you hadn’t caught him, the only thing that mattered was everything in the underground operations to run smoothly. For the past two weeks they had been. Red had stayed hidden since your encounter at the server room. 

He’d helped you when you didn’t ask for it, he’d helped you even when you didn’t deserve it. You let out a sigh, pushing the thoughts out of your head before standing, stretching your arms as you handed the documents back to Penguin. 

“Is there anything else I need to know before I have to make preparations?”, you cocked your head at him, raising an eyebrow to him as he waved you off. 

“How is Calvi coming along?”, he lit his cigarette. 

“It’s progressing. In fact, I may need the next week off before picking up our VIP. Calvi invited me to attend an upcoming Gala in a few weeks. I think it may be good to be his plus one for the evening.”, you mentioned, hoping he would be pleased with the progress you’d made with him. 

“Take the time off, so long as you can be back the night of transportation.”, he nodded. “I look forward to the results, (Y/n).”

You nodded to him before grabbing your things and heading out for the evening. The guards led you out to the side, slipping out of the hidden door and wandering back to the main streets of the city. It was still early, probably enough time to get food at the store near your apartment. 

It was only around 7pm, the sun barely starting to set as you moved through the streets. People were still out and it was a nice day, the sun was warm and many of the nearby stores were filled with people eating dinner, buying groceries, or just strolling on the street with their friends, families, or partners. A simple life they must live. A life you would never get insight into. It was never anything you could achieve but it was something you had dreamed of at one point. It was a lifetime ago that you envisioned yourself living a normal life. 

Friends, a partner, nights out, birthdays, New Years celebrations, parties, movie nights, a family. 

It was all a distant dream, something you were sure you had signed away rights to when you joined this life. You convinced yourself long enough that you were okay with it but nights like tonight, where you could see the buzzing of the evening and see the connections, the love, the trust everyone of these strangers had for one another. It caused an aching in your chest. 

The past 6 years had been lonely. 

~

“What about your friends?”, Robin asked as he cocked his head towards you. 

The both of you were at a park this time around. It wasn’t often you’d go anywhere but the roof but he wanted to take you to the park. It was warm and the day was nice. You also had never met him during the day. He had a different kind of glow to him but it wasn’t any different than he was at night. You were off in the secluded part of the park, away from any people to give you your privacy. 

You wore shorts, your hair up in a ponytail and a loose white tee and flannel. It was a more casual outfit than you’d normally wear, the family usually making you keep appearances, but you liked having casual days. 

“I don’t really have friends.”, you admitted as you picked a dandelion out of the ground and picked the petals. 

“You go to school right? You don’t talk or hang out with any of them?”, he leaned back on his arms, his legs stretched on the grass as he looked at you. 

“I.. I’m not really liked at my school. Everyone sees me as this… thief who will never be at the same level as them.”, you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin on your knees and staring at the small ladybug on your shoe. “I won’t ever fit in with the rich people who live in this city.”

“Seems pretty boring to fit in.”, Robin leaned towards you, “I think it’s better to not be a part of the crowd.”

You turned your head, leaning your head on your arm as you looked at him. His hair was messy, his dark sunglasses covering his eyes, wearing black jeans and a dark gray shirt. It was tight around his arms, showing off his muscle and how fit he was, definitely because of the life he built with Batman. He was devastatingly handsome, you were sure if he went to a regular school every girl would be all over him and yet he spent his time with you. 

“What about you? Any friends back in your normal life?”, you asked softly. 

“I don’t try and make many friends, they’d never understand the life I have to live or the secrets I have to maintain to ensure Batman and I’s identities and work get exposed.”

“So… why do you hang around me if you don’t keep friends?”

He smiled at you, his hair flopping forward before running a hand through his hair and shrugging. 

“It’s different with you”, he paused, biting his lip before speaking again. “You understand living in the street, and just getting picked up by someone and having to adjust to this new life. It wasn’t easy, especially because no one understands but… you do. That makes this a lot easier to manage knowing I can trust you to share my thoughts with.”, his body was relaxed, his aura changing as he opened up and felt more laid back. 

A warm feeling spread in your chest as you held his gaze, the sensation making you feel more connected to him. How could someone you’d only known for a short while had grown as such a prominent part of your life. He was open, charming, kind, sometimes on-guard but he had opened up slowly overtime. You also opened up to him about different parts of your life on the streets, his own experiences similar to yours. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Boy Wonder.”

~

You grabbed a few items off the shelf, placing them in your basket before moving through the aisles as someone bumped into you, some of the items falling out of your basket. 

“Shit, let me grab those for you.”, you turned to look at the guy as he picked up your items, standing at full height as he looked down at you. Your eyes widening slightly. “Sorry, I should’ve seen where I was going.”

He was tall, dark hair, green eyes, and was… handsome. He placed your items back into your basket before you thanked him quietly.

“Ah… it’s alright. Thank you for this. Accidents happen.”, you smiled slightly, holding up your items before turning and leaving, the man walking back to the other side of the aisles. 

You quickly paid for your items, thanking the cashier as you headed home, letting the night come to a quiet end as you sank into the soft cushions, the exhaustion washed over you from the endless stress and pressure. You had Black Mask watching over you, Penguin’s job with Calvi and his VIP, and trying to catch Red. It became overwhelming, your body’s exhaustion finally catching up to you. 

You laid your head back, staring up at the ceiling as you sank into the couch as the silence wrapped around you. It’d become routine. Work in the most extreme cases and with the craziest of people then coming home to a silence that’s become comfort for you. A break from the chaos was all you could ever ask for. You’d never be able to get a clean break. At least you feared not being able to. 

You closed your eyes, letting the sound of the city blend into the background. The hum of the fridge, the cars outside, even the small voices of the people in the street all meshed together into a satisfying mix of what a normal life could be like. 

Through half lidded eyes, you noticed something on the counter, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion before walking over and noticing a small box. You took the lid off of it, your heart dropping in your chest. 

A pair of green earrings. 

Instinctively, your hand touched your necklace, the exact one to match the jewelry in the box. You felt your heart swell with hurt, flashbacks of secret nights flooding your mind as you clenched your jaw. The thoughts flooding your head are borderline delusional. He was gone. He left you. 

 You picked the small box up, examining it for any notes or script left behind but they were by themselves. Placed perfectly in a velvet box, and beautifully crafted, they were meant to be worn as a set. A part of you knowing perhaps Robin would’ve given you the earrings if he’d asked you to be his. You shook your head, forcing the hurt of the thoughts away. 

Your eyes narrowed slightly. The only thing that gave away why they were here was written in a calligraphic cursive. 

Happy Birthday Y/n. 

The night of the Gala was fast approaching, your preparations slowly falling into place as you gathered what you needed for the next two weeks. Everything was meticulously planned, you’d convince Calvi of working with Penguin and get him to cease trade with Red. The Gala was the perfect opening. 

The warm water cascaded down your back, the heat burning your skin in a soothing and relaxing way. It was one of your sacred moments. Basking in the warmth and letting your body relieve itself from being tense. The fog filled the clear glass, your eyes focused on the water droplets as they fell down the wall of the shower. 

After another half hour, you wrapped your towel around you, drying your hair with an old t-shirt you never wore anymore. You looked at the time, it was still early in the night, you figured you could go out for a ride to get your mind off things while you had the time. 

You quickly changed into dark jeans, an old long sleeve and pulled on a leather jacket with your combat boots. You grabbed your helmet and made your way out the window, ensuring your front door was locked. You dropped down into the alley and pulled the tarp off the motorcycle. Swinging your leg over the seat, you turned the key and revved the engine, taking off through the streets. 

There were still a good amount of people out tonight, some of them headed to upper Gotham for the rich and exclusive clubs and bars and others headed to the deep, dark corners of the East side. Gotham had its clear divide and there was no in between. Those caught in the middle would always be grouped with the lower half unless they had ties with the upper side. 

You swerved through the cars, passing by in a flash through the city, the lights from the buildings adding to the ambiance of the night. It made the night feel different but it didn’t make the city any better. Pretty lights to cover up the shit show underneath them. It was all just a mask. 

The sounds of the city slowly faded behind you as you drove through the outskirts of the city, heading to the nearby harbor that had a secluded beach that not many people seemed to visit anymore. It was nice enough but just not worth coming at night. 

You kicked down the bike stand, leaving your motorcycle on the rocky road as you looked at the body of water in front of you. There wasn’t anymore sand, just a few rocks to sit on and the water fresh as the wind made small waves. You walked towards the water, standing right at the edge as the small waves kissed the bottoms of your boots. It came and went as the wind allowed it to, barely touching your sole as you watched it move smoothly. 

~

“Do you ever have days off to just relax?.”, you looked out at the water, the moon reflecting on the waves as you stared out blankly. 

“Relax? I barely get time to do homework”, Robin was standing next to you, throwing a stone against the water and watched as it skipped, making the reflection ripple in turn. 

“Does Batman know you need to do good to graduate?” you joked as he shrugged his shoulders. 

“He’d actually kill me if I did bad in school”, he picked up another rock before skidding it again. “Besides, it’s too easy regardless if the advanced curriculum” 

“Woah okay, calm down know it all”, you laughed at him, the sound filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt before. It sounded like a sort of heaven. 

The both of you sat in the sand at the same time, the warmth of the sand against your skin, his legs stretched in front of him as you watched the lone birds swim in the water. 

You felt his hand graze yours, his fingers slightly over yours as he tightened his grip slightly. He was relaxed, laid back, and confident. You melted into him, leaning your head on his shoulder and breathing in his woodsy scent. It calmed you. 

He turned his head towards you, his other hand softly brushing your cheek, your eyes meeting his darkened ones. You wish you could see him without those damn sunglasses. You were sure he had the prettiest eyes. His thumb stroked your cheek and pushed a strand of hair back before pressing his lips against yours. 

You melted into him, smiling against his lips causing him to smile through the kiss.

“You..”, he whispered against your lips. “You drive me crazy, Y/n.”

A blush crept up your neck, the heat burning between the two of you. Your heart full of happiness, full of content, full of…

~

“Always staying out past your bedtime, aren’t you?”, the silence broke, your body turning slightly, almost relaxed. Red stood a few feet behind you, his gaze locked on you as you stared at him with a soft look in your eyes. It made him falter an inch. Something that went unnoticed by you. 

“Always following me? I’m beginning to think you’re obsessed with me.”, you said as the wind carried your voice towards him. 

“Keeping my enemies close.”

Your eyes followed his movements, his hand clenching into a fist before relaxing as he walked beside you and stared out at the water. He stayed silent, confusion running through your head before his distorted voice rang out. 

“You know he’s keeping tabs on you right?”, your ears perked at his comment, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 

“Who’s keeping tabs on me?”

“Black Mask.”, he retorted as the silence grew thick with tension.

A wave of annoyance went over you, like every time he was near you it drove you mad. Red’s revelation cut through the tension like a blade, his words repeating in your head as you broke them down. 

“You don’t have anything better to do than follow me around and lie about my alliances?”, you bit out at him, the anger slowly building inside of you.

“When have I lied to you?”

“When have you told the truth?”, you spit back quickly, your eyes snapping to him while glaring daggers. 

His entire energy changed then, turning from relaxed to tense, his shoulders flexing under all the kevlar he was wearing. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Why did you believe the kingpins in Gotham were on your side? It frustrated him, made him burn at the fact that you couldn’t see how they undermined you. 

“Do you really think Black Mask is on your side?”, his spit out, his hands forming into fists at his sides from his irritation. “You think he trusts you when this entire time he’s had tabs on you, waiting for the perfect moment for you to fuck up and out you to the fat bastard.”

Your eyes filled with anger, your shoulders tense with anger. Who the hell did he think he was to question your allies? 

“Fuck you.”, you spit out as you pushed past him to leave, stopping when you felt his hand wrap around your arm, keeping you in place. 

“I’m warning you. You already don’t like the son of a bitch, why would I lie about this?”, he questioned. “You suggesting he’s keeping tabs on me means you think Penguin also doesn’t trust me. They’ve been partners longer than I’ve worked for Penguin, accusing Sionis of keeping tabs on me means Penguin questions me too.”, you narrowed your eyes. “My loyalties have always belonged to Penguin.”

“And what are you going to do when you find out that I’m right?”

“You won’t be.”, you spit.

“They. Don’t. Trust. You.”

Enough was enough. You pulled your arm out of his grasp, turning and lifting your leg, letting your foot meet the side of his head, his neck cracking to the side as he moved back. You lunged at him, your fists meeting his body and making him release grunts of pressure. He recovered quickly, matching your aggression, his movements fluid and precise as he dodged your hits and tried to hit back with equal force. His hits barely made their mark as he moved forward, trying to grab you. 

Every insult he’s made, every taunt, every doubt just pushed you further to the edge, adding fuel to the fire of your anger until it consumed you entirely. He overwhelmed you, consumed you, completely filled you with anger, frustration, annoyance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to make the final blow. 

You’d told yourself for weeks, months, that it was all in spite of Sionis but was it really or did you enjoy torturing yourself? Did you enjoy the rush you got every time you came into contact with the infamous Red Hood that had all of Gotham after him?

You continued to take hits at him, your arm getting caught in his hand as he twisted it and pulled you over his body, slamming you to the ground as he forced you into the ground. Your hair feeling the cold, wet sensation from the waves of the water brushing against your hair slightly, his gloved hand next to your head in the water. 

“Let me go!”, you pushed against him. “Don’t be fucking naïve, Y/n.”, he muttered. “The only reason he hasn’t fucking caught you is because I’ve been cleaning up your fucking mess and covering your tracks.”

You felt your entire body freeze at his comment, your blood growing cold at the confession. 

He’s been covering my tracks?

“You expect me to believe that?”, you snapped, your voice laced with disbelief. “You don’t know shit! I’ve proven myself to Penguin for years, he trusts me and if Sionis wants to keep his connections he knows not to doubt Penguin.”

You almost gave a convincing argument, but the meeting you had with him a few days ago replayed in your head. 

“It’s been almost two months. Why haven’t you caught the son of a bitch yet?”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing everything you can.”

“If you fail, I’ll make sure to do my own look as to why.”

“Believe what you want, sweetheart. You’ll realize sooner than later that you're nothing but a pawn in Sionis's game", the warning laced in his tone, his voice cutting through the haze of your anger. "And no matter how hard you try to fight it, you'll always be just another piece on his chessboard."

“Why bother helping me if I’m just some lowlife nobody?”, you demanded, your voice tinged with frustration as you held Red’s gaze. “If you hate me so much, why bother helping me? Why not let Sionis catch me and let him torture me? Or better yet, why not turn me in and watch as he beats me to an inch of my life?”, you were taunting him, pushing him to the edge as his grip tightened slightly.

“We both know Sionis isn’t shy when it comes to getting rid of those who betray him. So tell me, why?”

“I have my reasons. Don’t read too much into it.”, he forced out, his muscles flexed and you could tell he was getting more annoyed than he already was. It pissed you off that he was elusive, refusing to give you a straight answer to your questions. Your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline spiking once again because of him. 

What was he hiding and why did it feel like he was tricking you?

What information did he have that would’ve made you second guess yourself, and why would he even suggest helping you by ‘covering your tracks’? 

You wanted to dive deeper, but believing him would mean second-guessing the company Penguin kept. Regardless of how you felt towards Sionis, you wouldn’t question Penguin’s ties if you wanted to stay under his protection. 

Red released you, moving away and walking back towards the road. His shoulders were tense, your confusion flooding your mind as you tried analyzing what just happened. The water dripped down your neck as you sat up, watching his back as he walked away.

“You’re not telling me everything.”, you wanted to know more about Sionis and his tabs on you. How long has it been? What did he know? Who was relaying the information back to him?

“Maybe not.”, he called out, his distorted voice sounding haunting with the quiet of the night. “But I’m sure your trust in the son of a bitch doesn’t require you to know more.”

Fuck. 

He turned, leaving you sitting in your own confusion and frustration. How would you find out if what he was saying was even true? When would Sionis even find the time to focus on you when Red was the one destroying and dismantling all of his jobs? He would spend more time focused on killing Red instead of focused on why you haven’t caught him. 

Sionis forgets your loyalty belongs to Penguin yet he questioned you tirelessly, always watching you and the way you were with Penguin’s partners. You were working on convincing Calvi to work with Penguin and it took priority for a split second. Now that you knew that Red was connected to Calvi it made everything more complicated. Sionis doesn’t care about complications, he cares about getting the job done and you haven’t been so cooperative in that aspect. 

You forced yourself to your feet, wobbling as you brushed the dirt off of you, your body tired of Red throwing you around like you were some rag doll. 

You needed to get out of this mess, needed to find out if Red was being truthful, if Sionis really was keeping tabs on you, and if Penguin had gotten any hint of his suspicion of you from Sionis. 

All in its own time but the gnawing in your gut told you you needed to figure it out sooner than later. 

Before it was too late. 

One Week Later

This was stupid, brainless even. A part of you on edge at you as you paced around the roof, letting yourself try and calm down but your anxiety slowly ate at you. 

The abandoned building laid in the outskirts of the city, it had no surveillance and was completely abandoned by every crime lord due to its lack of structure and functionality. It was the perfect, clandestine meeting spot. You recounted every word, detail, every bit of information in your head and shifted through each of the files you had organized in your head. Your feet pacing were the only thing that could be heard as you but your thumb while thinking. You checked the time, impatience and uneasiness tugging at your gut, the sound of footsteps making you turn a little too quickly towards them. 

“You’re late.”, you said. 

“You didn’t exactly make this spot easy to find.”, he retorted as he walked up to you, the distance only a few feet between the two of you. “The message you left for me was cute enough though.”

You’d blown up another one of his satellite locations on the outskirts of the city. Leaving a carefully planted code with a message attached on one of his shipments you knew only he could find. You knew it’d be a 50/50 chance of him showing, but you liked the odds anyway. 

The silence suddenly laid over the both of you like a blanket, causing the tension to rise a bit but left more of an awkward silence than anything. The silence was necessary to help you collect your thoughts but also annoying as it made your anxiety eat at you. 

Your eyes stayed trained on him, your guard down as you contemplated even asking him to meet you here. 

“I-“, you stopped yourself, trying to swallow your pride. “I want you to tell me what you know about Sionis keeping tabs on me.”

You heard a deep chuckle escape him, his arms crossing as he stood tall, confident in himself and entertained by the fact that you were choosing to believe him. There was an obvious blend of distrust and reluctant cooperation. He’d never expected you to accept the intel he’d share. 

“Tell me why you hate him”, he said with a firmness that left no room for you to reject his ask. 

You hesitated, your guard slipping just a fraction. “It’s personal. I have my reasons.”, you said through clenched teeth. You met his gaze, your eyes hardening. “Leave it at that.”

“You give me information, I give you yours. Otherwise, figure it out on your own”, why did he always make everything much harder than it needed to be? 

His words rang around in your head, you didn’t have time for this or his games. You needed answers, an in that Sionis would never know you had. 

“Four years ago, I was barely getting into the Gotham Crime Ring. I was stealing from one of his jobs and he found me. He had his men beat me half to death before dumping me in the back alleys of Gotham. I nearly died before Penguin found me. I was weak, small, and Sionis doesn’t even fucking recognize me.”

“But you’re still trying to dismantle his empire”

“The only way I know how. From working on the inside.”, you confessed. “Now there isn’t a day that son of a bitch doesn’t try to get me to try and prove myself to him and his cause. As if I answer to him and not Penguin.”, the hate was evident in your tone, the disgust you had towards him burning deep inside of you as you fixed your gaze to the ground.

“So you’re risking getting caught.”, your eyes held a level of vulnerability in them that made Red’s walls falter before regaining his composure. “Gotham’s taken a lot from me. Forced me to give my old life for this one. This isn’t about taking out Black Mask. It’s much bigger than that.”

In that moment, the both of you shared a rare instance of mutual understanding. 

“Sionis hired one of his men to follow you on the jobs your pig of a boss has been sending you on. He’s been watching you since the building fire.”, Red retorted, his arms still crossed as he took you in. You were wearing leggings and an oversized sweater that fell off your shoulder. Your hair was down and tucked behind your ears, your eyes full of confusion, distrust, vulnerability. It made something inside of him soften despite himself. “I found the son of a bitch.”

“Did you throw him off with a false lead or plant information?”

“No.”, he said seriously. “I killed him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, the emotions swirling inside of you at his confession. He covered your tracks by getting rid of the person tracking you. No intel to make it back to Sionis, no suspicion raised about your loyalties or why you’d failed to kill Red. 

The shuffling of his feet made your head snap to him again, watching as he turned to walk away before you called out to him. He turned to look at you, the silence elongating with each passing second. 

He had killed Sionis’ informant… 

Sionis had hired someone to track you all because you hadn’t caught Red yet. Were there others? Did he have other informants looking into different jobs you had been doing or was it just the one? 

“There isn’t any others if that’s what you’re wondering.”, Red’s voice sounded as you clenched your jaw. There was a knawing sensation that ate at you from his confession and a part of you wondered why he’d even consider a task like helping stop information that could expose you to Sionis. It would remove you entirely from the equation and make everything easier for him to achieve. 

“How do I know you aren’t lying.”, she narrowed her eyes at him, waiting for a crack in the lie that you wanted the truth to be so badly and yet he further proved he was telling the truth. 

He threw a device at you with a badge attached to it, your hands gripping the receiver and noticing it was the same technology that Sionis Industries mass produced for all of Sionis’ close men that did the underground work for him whenever he needed, The badge had two photos in it, one of the man who was hired to follow you and the second being a photo of the same man decapitated. 

“I’m not your enemy, Y/n.”, his voice was so deep you could feel the vibration flow through your body and left you with a sensation in your chest that you couldn’t quite place. You wanted to believe when he said he wasn’t the enemy, but in reality he was. He’d infiltrated a majority of Penguin and Sionis’ operations, has killed more men in the underground than you could count, he was constantly after you and taking any open hit to get rid of you, he would further prove your disloyalty in letting him go time and time again even if it was unintentional. Yet, he stood here telling you about the informant, getting rid of them and in turn saving you from having to face whatever abuse Sionis would bring on to you for not following simple orders. Orders if disobeyed by anyone else would’ve resulted in their death a long time ago. 

“I know you don’t trust me, but you’ll figure out why this is happening sooner than later. I’m helping keep you out of trouble Out of his line of fire. Out of everything.”, his voice had softened slightly, the edge no longer present. 

Your breathe came out ragged, your eyes filled with confusion and disbelief. She couldn’t trust his word, couldn’t take his side over Penguin’s. It wasn’t a pill she wanted to swallow or a reality she wanted to face, yet the proof was right in front of her. The photo, the device, the badge confirming employment through Sionis. 

“I’m not here to hurt you… not anymore.”, he said finally before he turned, slipping into the shadows as you stood still examining the items and being left with your thoughts. As the echo of the night slowly faded away, you were left with the grappling realization that Red wasn’t her enemy anymore, and Sionis wasn’t an ally to Penguin. 

When did the tables turn so quickly? 

When had he become the ally and the business partner to your boss the enemy?

Sionis had always been your enemy, but his partnership with Penguin allowed you a certain level of immunity from him. Now, it didn’t seem like Sionis was following that code of business anymore. 

Red… he was a puzzle you couldn’t solve, and being in this world of crime, it made him the most dangerous thing of all. 

Could you trust him?

There were times that you wondered if any of your jobs would ever go on the right track, if you could make it through just one night since meeting Red without being stuck in an impossible situation or have him fuck everything up while you tried getting the intel you needed.

The blood in your veins pumped through you and roared in your ears as you ducked behind a crumbling brick wall, the distant sound of gunfire echoing through the air. You tried looking around the corner to find an out, anything to get out of the shitshow Red had created. 

You grit your teeth, narrowed eyes focused on Red as he shot towards the men, your path blocked by their pointless shoot out. 

“Hey! If you’re done playing with your friends I would love to leave!”, you yelled at him as he threw himself behind a pillar and tried getting out of the shooting range. 

“Sweetheart, I’m glad you want my attention, but I’m a bit busy trying not to get killed”, he shouted back as he shot back at the men on the other side. 

This was pointless, you needed to get out. Your frustration reached its boiling point as you tried to slip away on your own, trying to find even the tiniest opening. Once the bullets stopped for a split moment, you quietly slipped through, the moment short lived as you heard the sound of a lone gunshot ringing out and buried itself in your shoulder, throwing your body in the ground as you let out a cry of pain. 

“Y/n!”, you heard Red’s call after you as he took better aim, two of the men immediately falling. You body lay on the ground, the blood pouring out of you as you tried to push pressure on your shoulder. This was the second time you’d been shot in the shoulder, both times thanks to Red. 

Your vision started to haze, your head spinning from the pain. Regardless, you couldn’t stay in one place, you tried to push yourself out of the way and drag yourself out of the line of fire. Before you could even move, Red tan over to you, his hands helping pick you up as he moved you to the other side, a slight sign of movement tipping him off as he turned and shot the last of the men, the body limping as it fell hard on the ground. 

“Y-you..”, your anger slowly melted away as the grip of his hands stayed on you, making your skin burn in embarrassment. You grit your teeth in pain, your pride wounded just as much as your shoulder. 

“Relax”, he muttered. 

“You try fucking relaxing with a bullet in your shoulder!”, you spat back in annoyance. His body language changed from helpfulness to frustration at your stubbornness, trying to relax as he laid you down on the ground. 

You glared at him, watching as he pulled out bandages and a small, collapsible version of forceps. 

“This is gonna hurt.”, he met your eyeline, handing you a piece of fabric to bite on. 

“Whatever, just get it over with.”, you laid against the small wall, your head leaned back as you felt the pressure build in your shoulder, your own blood running down your arm as he carefully inserted the forceps. You clenched your teeth in pain, feeling the flesh move around as he slowly tried to remove the bullet. 

Anesthesia would be ideal, but being in field and completely caught off guard made it impossible. Red focused, trying his best to ensure the pain could end sooner than later, the sound of your painful grunts made him work faster.

The twitch in your leg made him focus more, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding. The sting of the bullet burning you from the inside, lifting your arm to cover your mouth to try and keep from screaming. The white burning pain left you in overdrive. You’d been shot before but removal was always done with you under anesthesia or being completely knocked out so Penguin's doctor could work. This was a pain you never wanted to experience again. 

Red finally managed to remove the bullet, luckily all in one piece. He quickly applied the small bottle of alcohol on the wound to keep it from getting infected before wrapping it in bandages. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the shakiness making Red wonder if you’d pass out from the pain. 

“Y/n”, he watched as your eyes dropped, tapping your face slightly to get you to snap back to attention. “Y/n.”

“What?!”, you snapped, your body full of irritation and frustration. How many more hits could your pride take before you started to look pathetic? 

“You need painkillers”

“I don’t need shit.”, you muttered, forcing yourself to stand as you reached into your utility belt, pulling a small dial and twisting the cap to reveal a needle. Red watched as you shoved it into your arm, the relief from pain sweeping over you in a sweeping sensation. 

Red’s eyes narrowed, watching you as your breath evened out and your body relaxed. A wave of relief helped you focus, orient yourself back to reality as you turned and watched Red’s narrow gaze. 

“Drugging yourself up now?”, he retorted. 

“It’s a pain inhibitor.``, you forced as you tried rolling your arm to lessen the soreness. You hated using it but you were desperate, it wouldn't last forever and the after affects would leave you sore but at this moment, you couldn't care about those affects. You needed to get home, away from him and his chain of bad luck. The shot gave you enough leeway to get home and take real pain killers. This would only last for a short time, often used whenever you were too far from home or the Lounge to get actual medical assistance. 

You shot him a final glance, turning and walking away as he rose to his full height, his stature still overwhelming as he stood a good foot, foot and a half over you. In any other circumstance the obvious power difference would have done something to you, would’ve built a pressure in your gut but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to care about his presence. 

You started to walk away before feeling his hand clamp on your wrist, your annoyance eating at you. You did not want him near you right now. 

“I have a job proposition”

Oh, now he was getting fucking bold. 

Your eyes snapped towards him, narrowing and staring daggers at him. His silence giving an edge to his statement. You didn’t care if he was serious, he could go fuck himself. You pulled your hand out of his grasp as he stepped forward. 

“Work with me.”, he reached for you again, but you turned quickly, kneeing him in the gut and slamming his head down against your knee in one other movement. He grunted as you pushed him back and swung your leg around, snapping his head to the side as he fell, pulling out your knife before forcing him to the ground, your teeth clenched in anger. 

“You get me fucking shot and now you think you have the right to ask me dumbass questions?”, you spit out as your arm burned slightly. He grunted underneath you, his body moving slightly before you leaned down. 

“Why would I ever agree to work with you”, you spat at him, your knife digging further into his neck, a small trail of blood trailing down the side. You had venom in your voice but the sound of his Jericho 941 connecting to your temple and being cocked echoed in your ears. The barrel was cold, giving you a rush of adrenaline being on him like this. 

Red’s eyes squinted as his gun remained connected to your temple, your body still on top of him as your legs held down his arms and your hands stayed trained on the dagger you held to his throat. It was a compromising position, but one move from either of you would result in both of you getting killed. A double murder at the hands of each other. 

What a glorious yet lame way to die. 

“I can offer you something with this that you’ve always wanted, sweetheart.”

You leaned in, your face getting close to his, the gun still cold against your head. “And what’s that, Red?”

“Your freedom.”, his distorted voice whispered, your eyes narrowing at him as you watched his hand lower, the gun falling to the ground as he uncocked it. “You do this job with me, I’ll give you a 50/50 cut.”

You stared at him, trying not to let the shock be evident on your face. You slowly moved your body back, your legs rubbing against his causing friction between the two of you. You loosened your grip on the dagger and put it back into its sheath. Why would he hold this over your head like some trap? 

“What are you after? How do I know you’re not playing me for a fool?”

Red started sitting up, his body weight on his elbows and forearms as he looked up at you, meeting your eye line. “A couple million is more than enough for anyone to live comfortably. I want to do this to get a direct hit at Black Mask’s operation and under the table trades with the Black Market. You hate him and I’m trying to dismantle him one piece at a time just like you are. If we steal and sell one of his most valuable possessions, you get the money to leave Gotham like you’ve always wanted. Set our differences aside, steal the target, get our payout. We both live to see another day and go our separate ways.”

“You’re a con-man. The enemy. I don’t trust a single thing you have to say.”, you pushed yourself off of him, standing as you took a few steps back, letting yourself think about his bogus offer. You worked for Penguin, not Black Mask. You had been trying to find ways to get a straight hit at Sionis without outing yourself. Could this son of a bitch be your answer?

“Have I not shown you I’m not your enemy.”

You turned to look at him, your hair blowing in your face as you stared at him with narrowed eyes. You watched as he stared at you, the white sockets of his helmet moving slightly. You crossed your arms to try and cover your body from his wandering eyes. 

“How do I know you’re being serious and not planting this meeting so you can out me later on for agreeing to work with you?”

Red walked towards you, his body seeming bigger due to the weapons he had on him and the thickness of the kevlar plates covering his body head to toe. He stared at you as he held out a small flash drive, waiting for you to take it. 

“This has everything you need to know about what I’m trying to do. It should prove how serious I’m being about this.”, his voice broke as his filter cut in and out, making him sound even more ominous than usual. “Besides, anyone who’s anyone in the underground knows that you’re one of, if not, the smartest person to have on your side when trying to orchestrate a heist. Especially one at this caliber.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, slowly taking the drive out of his hand before examining it. It was standard, easy to plug into your off grid computer and not be traced. If it had some sort of virus, you’d already programmed your computer with an anti-virus to delete anything and everything off the drive. 

“I’ll think about it.”, you said, still holding his gaze. 

“Good. I look forward to your answer sweetheart.”, you watched as he turned, walking to the ledge of the building before jumping off the side and going down into an alley, likely where his motorcycle was hidden for an easy getaway. You followed suit, heading back home as you held the drive in your hand, the questions swirling in your head. As you reached your apartment you quickly changed into loose clothing, letting yourself get comfortable before taking some of the pain killers you had in the cabinet.

You grabbed the blanket off the couch and pulled your laptop onto the table, opening it before connecting the hard drive into the USB on the side. The file window opened, showing the file size and the name. 

‘Josephine’

You felt a tug in your gut at the name. There was no way. 

You leaned forward, your elbows on your knees as you watched the file download onto your laptop. Your heart pounding in your chest. He wouldn’t be so crazy to pull something suicidal like this…. Would he?

Your eyes focused on the screen as everything poured in. Blueprints, camera locations, attendance lists, background checks, security measures, charity dates, gala notices, lists of every major possession in the building, bank information, possible outliers, anomaly situations, emergency exists, car information, hidden passages, even valet service and the company that would be in charge of the event. Your eyes widened as you skimmed through all the information like a hawk. 

You slouched back into the couch. Your blood rushing through your ears as you soaked in every bit of information, your brain overwhelmed by how deep he’d done his research. 

He was serious. 

He was insane. 

Out of every encounter you’d ever had with the Red Hood, this would be the most insane thing he could possibly think of. All this just to get at Black Mask? A part of you had to commend him for being so cocky and having the balls to believe he’d pull something at this caliber off. 

He’d escaped a burning building and a massive explosion, being taken on and hunted by all of Gotham, being chased down and shot at, being forced to fight 10 men all at once. He had come face to face with Batman and Nightwing, Black Mask’s men, Penguin’s men, and you. A series of misfortune and yet he'd come out alive every time.

You physically felt your stomach turn at the information in front of you. Your heart pounding as you brought a hand to cover your mouth slightly.

That son of a bitch.

He was fucking lowballing. 

He wasn’t doing this for a couple million. 

He was doing this for a $48.4 million diamond.

A/N:

Hi guys! This chapter was probably one of the most difficult to write since it's mainly a little bit of filler to move and transition into the Gala chapter, which I have planned and get things moving and picked up! I truly do hope that you guys are enjoying this and if you do I would love to see your comments and feedback! I truly do thrive off of feedback and seeing everyone love on this series even if it is only starting out!

Also, I have been rewatching Attack On Titan and wonder if you guys are also anime or AOT fans, if you guys would be interested in a Royal!Reader x Criminal!Levi Ackerman series once I'm done with Playing with Fire?

I've had the idea for years. I remember writing a series on DeviantArt wayyy back in the day and plan to revamp it! Let me know if that's something you guys are interested in and I've also already received a good amount of feedback from other users on here.

Sorry for the long note but I hope you enjoy this chapter and I can't wait for next week! See you then, xx.

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Summary: it’s my take on what illicit affairs means. Every time I listened to it I imagined Joel, specifically dbf Joel. I hope the swifties go *easy* on me and pls don’t say anything if you didn’t like it.

Warnings: angst. And more angst. Swearing, forbidden relationship, arguing, fwb, alluded age gap but not specified. Use of nicknames (kid, baby……don’t look at me ok I didn’t do IT), reader is not physically described, no use of y/n. I think that’s everything but tell me if I’ve missed something! || wc: 1.8k || a/n: I love you @planet-marz1 for beta reading this & all my babies who held my balls and pushed me through this <3 thank you thank you thank you. ||

He was someone you should have never been attracted to. Your parents’ friend, a family friend. Someone they trusted to watch over you if they left town, to check on you as if he cared about you. No one noticed the lingering stares frequent more and more with each stop at your parents home. No one noticed the way you returned the gazes at him, the longing feeling of wanting to feel his mouth all over your body with his hands not far behind to get any spot he missed. It all came together when your dad had a party, the champagne coursing inside you and giving a little liquid courage. Joel couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and it didn’t feel wrong, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it was. Nothing more was going to come from this, it was just a fling for the night and you’d go right back to how things were. At least that’s what you told yourself when you kissed him in the laundry room, the soft orange glow casted over you two from the street lamp outside.

Yet here you are months later, telling everyone you were going out for a walk, already covering up your demeanor for when you return. Joel parked down at the end of the block and you found yourself reciting that you can always stop this whenever you wanted to. He’s careful not to sit there for too long after you get inside his truck.

“Did anyone see you?” He asks, wiping over his mustache quickly while he looks in the rearview mirror about a dozen times.

“No, they didn’t see me.” You mutter from behind your hood. You reached out to grab his hand from his thigh, tucking your fingers between his palm and the fabric of his jeans.

“Okay, good. Good. Missed you.” He says as he pulls into the same vacant lot as last time. It wasn’t always like this, parking here behind the abandoned mall. He used to book hotel rooms for you two so you’d feel safe with him, feel special. The red rose petals scattered everywhere on the floor and the bed no matter how cheesy it was, you liked it. It was a scarlet colored secret between only you two and it was thrilling to keep, in a way. The more you met up with Joel, the less distance he put in between your town and the lucky room for the night. Nights turned into a couple hours, which slowly morphed into quick meetings here, in this empty parking lot to an abandoned mall.

“Thanks for not wearing that perfume this time, doll. Almost got caught last time because I smelled like you.” He tries to lighten the mood as he shakes your thigh gently. It was the perfume he used to love when you’d wear it, the one you had on that night the first glance he took of you started this entire affair.

It became harder and harder to not hide your scent on him when he’d come over to your parents house as if he wasn’t just with you. Your dad would ask why he smelled of your perfume, Joel turning to you so you have to lie and say you greeted him outside before letting him in. Couldn’t leave a trace of you in his little world no matter how badly you wanted to. To desperately leave a subtle token of you on him, that he was yours, that this older man wanted something to do with you.

Joel wastes no time getting your navy blue hoodie off your torso and his lips on your neck, telling you once more that he missed you all day. The same words he spoke before suddenly didn’t make your heart flutter after the hundredth time hearing them. The smile doesn’t form as wide as it once did when he calls you ‘baby’. Funny how that works, finally getting what you wanted to hear him say and it wasn’t holding its weight anymore like in the beginning. They were just words you were taking for what they were; sweet nothings. You two developed a look to share while with others, a little nod of your head towards outside when you needed to speak in private and say what you couldn’t in front of anyone else or just needed to be close to one another. Those moments kept you wanting more from him, every single time.

Behind closed doors seemed like the only time you were everything to Joel, it was the sliver of time you got validation that he even liked you. He grew paranoid and tended to be cold when he was around your parents, no eye contact, hardly any conversation shared with you. When you were alone in the backseat with the sweat drying on your back as you laid against his chest, you were the one he wanted to be with…until it was time to come back to reality and get dressed like nothing happened.

“You don’t even look at me anymore when my parents are around, you’re acting too suspicious, Joel.” You mutter, dragging your thumb across his shoulder as you stared into the fabric of the seat behind him.

Time and time again you so desperately wanted to go public with Joel but every time you mentioned it he got upset, telling you that would be the dumbest thing to do. According to him, it was best to keep meeting in the back of his truck for a half hour and being dropped off with one less piece of you each time. You no longer felt like his baby anymore no matter how many times he called you that. Not a single thing he mutters to you while he’s on top of you in the truck replays later as you try to sleep like the early days. It was becoming more and more diluted with each quick goodbye kiss.

Joel pulls away and sits up straight, moving his hand to your thigh and giving a squeeze.

“Don’t do this right now, kid. C’mon, you know how I feel about ya.” His head hangs for just a moment as if you scolded him. Pulling his head up to look at you in the eye, Joel cups your face softly before speaking again.

“I’d lose so much if I told everyone about us, you know that right? You’re dad would probably beat my ass and never talk to me again, I don’t think any of our friends would honestly. I’d lose so much if everyone knew, not just you.” He sighs tiredly and lets go of your face and sits straight up in his chair before putting a hand over his mouth and the other on the steering wheel as he looks out the window to the empty lot, rain clouds scattered above and turning everything gray.

Was that all he was worried about, losing your dad as his friend and the other so called friends he had? Really?

You wait for what feels like forever before you scoff and sit back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest, feeling like nothing but a godforsaken mess for putting yourself in this situation.

“I thought you liked this..” He waves his hand back and forth between you two without turning back to look at you. “...This works, this is easy and it’s safe. Why do you wanna ruin somethin’ like that, baby?” Joel chews on his cheek waiting for your response, hoping somewhere in his words that it clicked in your mind to keep this between you two.

“I did like this, Joel. I liked being your little secret in the beginning. Learning our little unspoken language and how to find you during parties when you wanted to see me, staying out all those nights with you and we’d talk about everything and you’d drop me off in the morning before my dad woke up to see me sneaking in. I did…like being your secret. We started doing things that couples do, real couples. Why is it so wrong of me to want tha-?” You ask firmly, feeling your heart beating in your throat when he cuts you off with his booming voice.

“Because we can’t! We just can’t! I’m sorry, kid. You know we can’t do more than this. I’m sorry. You’re a beautiful and talented human being, you can g-” Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Joel, don't even give me that shit. I don’t want to hear that.” You turn in your seat to fully look at him, eyes not leaving his face for a second.

“Do you understand how much I would lose if we went public with this? I’m willing to throw all of that away to be with you. That is how much you mean to me. You mean more to me than my dad potentially not speaking to me ever again, possibly being kicked out, shunned, all of it. I don’t want anyone else but you, okay?” You had found your voice halfway between your counter argument, and damn did it feel good.

“Kid…we just can’t. I’m sorry. We can still be friends and I’ll always be around if you need me. I just, I think I put you in too deep with this.” His eyes flick between himself and you. The only noise audible was the rain pattering down on the windshield, thunder booming softly after a few seconds.

The tears sting your eyes and cascade down your warm cheek.

“Baby..” Joel coos and tries to wipe your tear away but you turn away before he can get close.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby.” He sighs with obvious frustration at your words and tucks his hand back next to his side. The hurt mixes with rage and the tears keep rolling down your face, Joel sits there unsure of what to say.

“Look at me, Joel. Look at this idiotic fool you’ve made me. Sitting here begging someone to be with me and love me so loudly, all the while it’s not reciprocated. You don’t want to show everyone how much you want to be with me, you just want to keep me a secret. Take me home, I’m done.”

You grab your sweater off the backseat and put it back on before buckling up once more.

“Kid, I’m-“

“Don’t call me that! Take me home, or I’ll walk.” You shout, the crack in your voice making your tears flow faster. Joel looks away and turns the truck on, driving back to your street in complete silence. He barely turns the corner at the end of your block and you get out without another word spoken to him. It was the one and only time he watched you get inside the house.

[dilftaroooo]

݁ ִ ࣪⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ "𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 "

ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ after some convincing i finally decided to write this nasty lil imagine or whatever this shit is, enjoy, mwah~ (p.s. for the native spanish speaking girlies, pls lmk if i fucked up on anything)

ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ wrd count: 2.2k+

ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ tags/tw: mdni 18+ race/ethnicity neutral + age gap (reader can be from 18 to early 20s! so college aged) + dilf!miguel (mid to late 30s) + don’t trust him he’s using u!!! + afab reader + sweet nothings + spanish petnames + cursing + unprotected sex + miguel is a perv + exhibitionism(?) + expensive cars + money + and big booty bitches (you).

Just thinking of you stumbling upon dilf!miguel as you go by door to door offering to wash peoples’ cars for a few bucks. You weren’t expecting a behemoth to be behind the tall, mahogany, double doors to answer your languid knocks – a handsome one at that. One that stood six-nine feet tall paired with honey drizzled orbs surrounded by hooded lids. Soft tufts of hair shimmered burgundy with silver specks which were gifted to him from prolonged time. His tan skin brightened under the powerful sun but it still wasn’t enough to obscure the fine forehead wrinkles and smile lines that adorned his features.

“Can I help you?” The deep baritone of his voice rumbled so deeply you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to look down and see the bucket of soapy water you brought ripple at its force. It should be you that’s supposed to be helping him. You’re the one going from neighborhood to neighborhood asking uninterested people to wash their cars for some cash that wouldn’t even last you a few days. But a side hustle is a side hustle, you thought. Nothing wrong with a stash for a rainy day.

You take note of how seductively the black wife beater he wore embraced his torso and how his pecs puffed out at you like some majestic penguin in the cool lands of Antarctica, staring down at you, a piece of flopping fish dreading to be eaten as he cocks his head to the side waiting for a response. His shoulders are broad and his muscles are taut and veiny – you ponder on what his reaction would be if you were to trace his veins from his neck down to his finger tips and tell him how badly you want them inside you. Gulping down the saliva that was building up on top of your tongue, you spoke your first words like a toddler.

“Would you, um-” Why couldn’t you finish your sentence on the first try? Did you forget how to speak English? Perhaps that’s only the case around him and a few other gorgeous people you’ve met in the span of your years living on earth. “Do you need to have your car washed – sir? I can wash it for fifteen.” You sounded so weak and frail to Miguel, just like how most college-aged girls sounded when they managed to have some sort of interaction with him – their hands clasped firmly around their elbow as they sway from side-to-side, asking him frivolous questions before poking their chest to get him to catch a glimpse of their cleavage that peeked out from their low cut tops. They all played the same game – a game he always loved to play.

He takes this moment to observe what you had on; a peach colored camisole that matched the flower placed delicately in your hair along with the daisy dukes that revealed your plump thighs. Not too skimpy. At least you were somewhat modest. A cute, weak, little thing you are.

He grins and you can see his crows feet crinkle at the gesture, his canines looking sharper than most. “Of course. Been a while since I’ve gotten her cleaned up.” He reassures you to wait for him as he gets his car from the garage and when you lay eyes on the ‘Ferrari SF90 Spider’ he displayed to you, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. It was a car model that you couldn’t even afford to dream of, glowing a dark navy blue with a rear wing that was coated in a vibrant red. Its engine roaring loudly and aggressively, telling you who the alpha is in the midst of asphalt concrete and dotted yellow lines. Miguel twitched at the gasp you couldn’t contain.

“A-are you sure you want me to wash this?” You ask while ogling at the car parked in front of you. This wasn’t a car some teenager bought with the aid of their low minimum wage job at a department store, this was a sports car – a Ferrari! This was something that should be washed professionally. “I’m no expert car washer or whatever those guys are called. As much as I would love to help you I don’t think I’m fit for something so…luxurious.” He lets out an airy chuckle that kisses your eardrums.

“No worries, cariño.” He would say and it makes your heart tremble and thighs clench. You’re not proficient in Spanish. Only remembering the fundamentals you learned when you were still in grade school and several language apps you’ve downloaded on a whim but you heard that word before in several love songs you’ve come across. ‘Darling’ is what it means. An affectionate pet name.

Miguel drinks up your reaction like drinking water in the Sahari desert. It was the last drop left in a flask that was so kindly offered by you, smiling at him with dry lips as he sticks his tongue out, aching for the pure droplet. You were so considerate – not wanting to risk destroying his five hundred-thousand plus car that he deliberately squandered his money on. But it was ok with Miguel. He always has money to spare.

He finally convinced you to do the job and get his vehicle all cleaned up and tidy. You instantly got to work but not before murmuring a sugary ‘thank you’’ and taking your sponge to the roof of his car. You and Miguel would conjure up some small talk such as your hobbies or careers. You’ve learned that he was a father of a little girl named Gabriella. His ‘sweet sunshine’ is what he would call her. You found that attractive – a father who is willing to take care of their offspring with genuine affection. His wife must be lucky…well, if he had one she would be, you think.

Miguel didn’t go deep into explanation at his lack of a spouse. A typical “It just wasn’t meant to be.” fell from his lips as he looked off to the direction of his house. Sensitive topic, maybe. Which is why he decided to shine the light on you. “You’re in college, right? Anyone there sweep you off your feet?”

All of a sudden, you feel coy. Embarrassed and bashful at your answer being a firm “no, there has not, Mr. O’Hara.” There’s a slight quiver in your voice but Miguel can tell that you’re trying to remain neutral and not break into tiny pieces under his watchful gaze. And just like every man thinks when they see an attractive young woman who claims they don’t have a partner, he asks why – why hasn’t anyone stepped up to you and asked for your number in hopes for a date? Why hasn’t anyone paid for your meals at semi-expensive restaurants? Why hasn’t anyone told you they loved you more than anyone they could ever imagine before clasping their hands under your chin, gazing at soft, plump lips before pressing them onto theirs? Why hasn’t anyone dared to run mischievous fingers up the hem of your dress before tasting the sensual keen you let out due to the fingertip teasing your throbbing clit?

Then Miguel remembers there’s a difference between boys and men.

You would notice how sinful Miguel’s gaze is on you. Like a stray cat preparing to pounce on a small alley mouse, the feline waiting as patience is his best friend. The mouse is aware of the cat’s presence and stiffens like a rock. “I just haven’t found the right, uh, time. Though, I would like to…” You try your best to conceal your face, you felt as though he was staring too hard. Miguel adjusts his stance to be directly next to you and you smell his scent – like masculinity, vetiver, and sweat. Your knees buckle.

Then the cat sluggishly leaned in on its prey, familiarizing itself of the little mouse’s smell. “No time for it, huh, amor? Guess pretty girls are too busy for romance, what a shame,” His tsks were faux but they still made you feel bad however you didn’t have the time to empathize with his breath streaming down the curve of your neck and his hand caressing your waist. His hips were practically against your lower back as a result of his staggering height and you can feel his bulge poke you excitedly. “Who will I have to love me at night? It gets so cold sometimes.”

Finally that cat strikes, working its fangs in the fragile neck of the weak mouse. With hands firmly planted on the hood of his sports car, your shorts were practically ripped away from you as Miguel takes its place with his big hand, digits rubbing over the cotton fabric of your panties at the direct spot your swollen clit lays, aching and pulsing for his attention. Your back was securely glued to his chest as he loses his patience and rudely shoves your panties to the side, pushing back your clitorial hood with a skilled finger to hear you squeak like said mouse under the grip of the fervent cat.

“Mr. O’Hara. We can’t. Not out here.” The words exhale from your lips so elegantly as you try to prevent Miguel’s free hand from lifting up your loose camisole top above your breasts, to no avail. They glistened under UV rays and sweat, your areolas were puffy and craved Miguel’s assertive touch. You both were out in the open driveway of his home with dozens of other beautiful houses encasing the area yet there was no one in sight but people still had windows they could look out from. Everyone looks out their window from time to time, right? Maybe not unless they hear the muffled moans and wet squelches coming from outside to which they wouldn’t be able to contain their curiosity and feel compelled to take a quick peek between their blinds only to be met with their hot neighbor ramming the living daylights out of some young woman they’ve never seen before.

Both rocking in harmony as you relish in the filthy pleasure you are both given. The suds from the soapy water covers the expanse of your tummy and forearms as you feel Miguel abuse your guts with the hard tip of his reddened cock. Filling you like a hand in a latex glove, you feel so full, so stuffed, so cramped with all of his veins and precum as he grips a hand around your neck like your favorite, pink, choker – reminding you of oh how dumb you sound taking his dick like the ‘buena puta’ you were made to be. His trimmed, pubic hairs tickled your ass each time he plunged his way back in you after teasing you lightly whenever he pulled out to the head.

“Ay Dios, amor. You’re clenching around me so tightly. You aren’t gonna let me go? Want me to cum in your filthy, young, pussy out here in the middle of my driveway? Have you any decency? Mierda.” He would groan in the shell of your ear. His canines brush against the skin softly and you bite your lip for the fourth time that afternoon as he continued to have his way with you.

“I do,” You pathetically start. “I do have some, ugh, decency, sir. I do.”

“But you’re not showing that to me, love. That isn’t what I see here now, is it? Is this the same girl talking to me while she lets me stuff her full with my cock, hm?” The tap-tap-tapping of his thighs colliding with yours crescendos into a louder pitch, one much more noticeable than a few minutes ago and you wish you could cover yourself with an invisible cloak. He kisses his wet kisses and speaks his sweet nothings as he hovers over your small, mouse-like, appearance with his hulking form. It would have scared you if not for the pecks he left on your body and the conjuring of soft coos he knows you would like to hear.

It was too hot, metaphorically and literally. The sun was blazing and the combination of both of your body heat was not ideal for this kind of weather but Miguel just looks so good fondling your tits and pumping his warm seed into the wet cavern of your insides while he slurs out cursed spanish phrases from his tongue that you couldn’t even bother to pick up, too busy savoring the spurts of cum leaking in your used cunt.

Fortunately, in the middle of your fucked-out daze, Miguel was nice enough to pull the panties and shorts back in their reserved spots (you felt his cum pile up in your underwear as soon as he lifted them up and you shivered at the feeling). You feel something wiggle its way between your hip and the hem of your shorts just for you to look down and catch sight of the wads of cash he stuffed there like you were some cheap whore (perhaps you were).

You glance back up, getting ready to tell him it was only fifteen dollars but he beats you to it by giving you a quick peck on your cheek. It was softer compared to when he was balls deep inside of you.

“Take it. For being so good to me, corazón.” His crow’s feet appear again and you silently wish to give each line a kiss but it was already too late once he turned around and stepped foot into his house, locking his door shut with a loud ‘click’.

©This work belongs to @dilftaroooo. If you see any work similar to mine, please notify me for plagiarism will not be tolerated.

[sugar-omi]

Hi! Your writing is amazing and makes my day every time I see you post. Could I request Cove while trying for a baby with a female MC? He’s so sweet and emotional I can totally imagine it would be equal parts super fluffy/adorable and spicy/hot Thank you! ✨

omg ty thats so nice of you to say!!! also tysm for this rq, i've been waiting for someone to ask smth like this bc i was worried i was the only one thinkin shit like this!!! also i think this is a bit more horny than fluffy, which is why i tried to make up for it w lots of kisses from cove LOL but ykw.. i feel like a part 2 wouldnt be so bad either 👀

tags : NSFW, ok for fem/nb readers, after step 4/wedding dlc, buff cove lol, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation, cove w oral fixation(? a bit implied), cunnilingus, cove "uses" a nickname that you can "insert" bc i can but also cant see him using pet names, + he calls u good girl, "multiple choice" dialogue (just read 1 of the colored text "options" than continue w the rest of the fic, theres no links or anything <3)

synopsis : you and cove try for a baby.

cove tries to be calm.

and he is! after a bit of panic of course, caused by his worries but excitement for fatherhood but also you want him to.. to... oh god he's too embarrassed to think about it, from finally deciding to have a baby the only natural next emotion is calm! he is cooler than a cucumber!

but now you're laid out under him, as beautiful as ever, and even after years of being together cove can't get enough of you; especially when you're so sweet to have like this.

"cove.." your gasp drug cove out of his daze.

you reach up and cup his face, cove leaning into your touch. "y/n.." he kisses your wrist.

"what're you thinking about?"

cove flushes. there's no way he could tell you exactly what he was thinking, saying that he found the idea of coming inside was totally different from thinking it and he was not ready to that something clicked in him when you finally talked about being ready for a baby...

"you.. just- just you, and how lucky i am." cove decided to distract you by kissing down your neck, leaving a new mark under your ear. thankfully it worked, although maybe you just gave it up because you already know what's going through his head.

he starts working his way down your body, and you fall back on the pillows and let cove treat himself to your cunt.

cove tossed your panties somewhere beyond the bed, his days of nervously folding your panties over. and he latches onto your thighs, sucking more marks into your skin and his fingers lovingly work your clit.

"cove.. i wan' more..." you tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on the strands. wordlessly he moves on to your twitchy core, his tongue slipping inside and lapping up your slick.

cove's boisterous ministrations has you grinding against his face, gasping as he works your sensitive clit and adds a couple fingers to the mix, speeding up the process so he can be inside you.

cove hopes you don't see him grinding against the mattress.

he sits up, his fingers spreading you open easily. while you're panting dozily, cove's fingers abandons your cunt so he can grab the lube from the bedside.

"habit.." cove laughs it off sheepishly.

he instinctually reaches for a condom, but realizes and a wave of heat rushes over him. you won't be needing those for awhile...

cove meets your hooded gaze, a knowing look in your eyes.

you grin, full of mischief. "guess we're gonna have to break it."

cove growls lowly, slapping a hand over his eyes. it does nothing to hide his blush and he curses himself when his cock twitches against his leg.

deciding to come out of hiding, cove peers at you from over his nose and you feel your own heart pick up sped at the stark look of his eyes. something about cove seems like he could devour you, but when he leans down to kiss you so tenderly you think otherwise.

cove poured the lube over his hand, coating his length and he hisses at the heat between his hand and cock. hazily cove thinks that this is the hardest he's been since he was a clumsy teenager.

cove captures you in another loving kiss, wanting to be close to you as he sinks inside.

this is your first time going without a condom, being connected like this has both of you holding onto each other, your nails scratching down his shoulder at the new but welcomed sensation.

this isn't the first time you and cove have done it unprotected, but it has been awhile so you both can't help but pull the other person closer, needing more.

cove buries his face in your shoulder, shaking from how wet and hot you are inside like this. he can feel the way your gummy walls flex around him and he pulls his hips back- the whine that comes out of your taut throat has cove closing his eyes and taking in your every sound as he moves so slowly, so sensually but so lovingly when he grinds his hips into yours.

finally, he finds the strength to remove himself from your shoulder, needing to see your face in ecstasy.

cove looked down at your own blissed out face, and if he could see his own face he'd notice that his own face his flushed and if it was possible, his pupils would turn into hearts from how lost in pleasure and love for you he's in.

he situates his hands on your hips, the pads of his thumbs rubbing affectionate circles into your skin.

"ah- cove, cove.. please move." you reach for him, intertwining one of his hands with your own.

he gives a kiss to the back of your hand, and when he rears back his hips to start a rough pace, if you could you'd think that the kiss was an apology for the way he's using your cunt.

cove's grip on your hand and hip is solid, it grounds you and the only thing you can think of is how deliciously cove is fucking you, his cock brushing and bumping against the sensitive and deepest parts of your insides.

you whine loudly and can't help but throw your head back because it's like he's going faster and when your eyes return from their trip to the back of your head, you open your eyes to feast on the sight of your husband/boyfriend.

and it's self explanatory why you're more aroused than a just moment ago; cove's hair is mused from all your tugging, and his glasses are long abandoned so that way he can see the way his cock pumps in and out of your cunt and the creamy ring around the base of his dick.

"ah- i love you. y-you're so beautiful..." cove soothes you, kissing your cheek.

"i- oh fuck right there!" your nails run down his chest, cove is going to be a mural of hickeys and scratches. "i love you too, ahh- cove!"

cove lets go of your hand in favor of your clit, already knowing your body well enough to know when you're going to cum.

"fuck... that's it, y/n, cum for me."

"hah, cove! f-finish with me, please. want- want..." you pant, hazy and driven to babbling from the way cove has worked you up all night.

"i know n/n, cum with me. that's it, good girl." cove leans down to kiss you.

tangled in a passionate kiss, your moans blend together as you finish. cove grinds his hips into you, his cock rubbing the deepest part of your insides and painting them white.

he falls into your shoulder, panting and planting a kiss there.

cove gets up, realizing you don't need a wall of muscle crushing you.

"y/n..."

he starts to pull out, and cove has another revelation that he did not think this through...

his cum is leaking from your spent hole, more cum pushing out with every squeeze of your insides, still twitchy from your orgasm.

"yes cove?"

cove swallows, meeting your eyes and he feels embarrassed that you already know what he's going to say. and that you clearly know how much this is turning him on.

"one.. one more round? i'll be more gentle, i just uh.."

you put your ankle on cove's shoulder. "cove, fuck me again."

cove tenses up, this is gonna end up being a long night...

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Is it me, or are we seeing a lot of castle houses up for sale lately? This one, built in 1975 in Barrington, IL has 5bds, 6ba, $1.75M. Well, let's see what this one looks like. So far, I see a statue mooning us.

The grand hall entrance.

Modern gray and white castle. This is disappointing. It looks like a McMansion.

Next to the living room there's a game room. A game room should have color, cool stuff, and neon.

Oh, look, the dining room is greige. The rooms are so big and hardly have any furniture, which makes them look cold.

I would imagine that this is meant to be an open concept kitchen/family room. You would think that a $1.75M home would have a backsplash in the kitchen.

There's a little bar area in the corner. There's an exhaust hood over the stove, but that bare wall is going to get so splattered.

The way to the indoor pool.

Very large space and it's all stone and glass. It must be very costly to heat.

This sitting room with an oddly small, fancy fireplace is at the end of the pool.

The primary bedroom has a terrace.

It also has a seating area and doors to a large rooftop deck with a fireplace.

And, of course there's an en-suite bath.

Plus a closet.

There's no dedicated home gym, they're using one of the bedrooms.

Really, this is the best room in the house.

Very nice bath, at least it has some color.

Part office, part bedroom.

Another lackluster bedroom. No architectural details, and bland gray.

A large deck surrounds the house. It looks like a chunk of cement came off that cone shaped piece.

The land measures 6 acres.

The exterior looks very castle-like, but the inside is disappointing.

This home is gigantic- look at the size of the unfinished basement.

The upkeep has to be astronomical.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3-Saville-Row-Barrington-IL-60010/5089890_zpid/

[princessbutler1316]

O!Ciel's Real Name Theory

So, where do I start? First we may have some clues, here and there.

But I will start first with Yana's name, we all know that's a pseudonym, so a Brief description of how the Japanese letter system works, it has three types: Kanji, Katakana and Hiragana

Katakana and Hiragana are basically the same, but one is used to foreign language and the other Japanese language

Kanji is composed of ideograms where each one represents a concrete or abstract idea. Also they can have more than one meaning

枢- toboso

やな- ya na

Let's forget about the Yana and focus in the surname, 枢, when you search on a Japanese name site (I'm also an author and these sites are my salvation), one of the pronunciation is this:

The constellation is composed of seven bright stars of the constellation Ursa Major;

Not only are the stars in the Big Dipper easily found themselves, they may also be used as guides to other stars outside of the asterism. Thus it is often the starting point for introducing Northern Hemisphere beginners to the night sky:

Polaris, the North Star (seems familiar?), is found by imagining a line from Merak (β) to Dubhe (α) and then extending it for five times the distance between the two Pointers. Extending a line from Megrez (δ) to Phecda (γ), on the inside of the bowl, leads to Regulus (α Leonis) and Alphard (α Hydrae).

BUT THE STAR THAT CAUGHT MY ATTENTION WAS THIS ONE:

By following the curve of the handle from Alioth (ε) to Mizar (ζ) to Alkaid (η), one reaches Arcturus (α Boötis) and Spica (α Virginis). A mnemonic for this is "Arc to Arcturus then speed (or spike) to Spica."

Why was this the only star that caught my attention?

No specific reason the name sounded good to me.

Jokes apart after some research, I'm positive this is O!Ciel real name:

ARCTURUS PHANTOMHIVE

Or Arturo Phantomhive, since u know, French names

But if you ask, do I have more proof or evidence?

HELL YES

Evidence 1

Firstly, let's go back a little and talk a little about colors, starting with Weston High School, which, as everyone knows, is an improved version of Harry Potter but without magic.

The only house that was not represented was Hufflepuff, which has the main color: yellow.

Instead we have Violet Wolf which is represented by the color violet/purple

What does it have to do with it?

They are complementary colors in the spectrum of colors, any painter or artist knows that

This was also applied to the Green Witch Arc, which in this case was used to replace Little Red Riding Hood

So, what else does this have to do with it?

Well, Arcturus is an ORANGE star

While Sirius is a BLUE star

Yes, the two are complementary colors also the fact O!Ciel is always using Blue...

Evidence 2

I'm not going to deny this one but it's kind of stupid, but it could still be relevant

Did you notice that the name Ciel Phantomhive has the same initials as his grandmother?

C.P.

Well, if the name Arcturus Phantomhive has the same initials as if Madame Red had married Vincent

A.P.

And all the evidence points to O!Ciel being closer to his mother than his father…

You understand what I meant

[rosesbxrry]

Links for Sunghoon 🔞

Warnings: this contains nsfw links and explicit commentary imagines on my end. Afab! Reader. Minors do not interact. Of course, this is all fictional and none of the materials represents them.

a/n: this a new format of writing I’ve been indulging. It’s a lot of fun to write, and a lot quicker to complete while writing my other wips. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it and definitely helps that I was working on this while they drop the concept photos for the full version 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Main masterlist

He fucks you doggy style when you wear those cute thigh high socks

Sunghoon was quivering on his knees at the sight of you in a skimpy lingerie, a baby pink color that matches the sheer thigh-high socks. His dark eyes linger at the small bows adorn at the sides, and the carnal urge to fuck you in it takes over like a wrecking ball. He’ll squeeze the flesh at the top of your socks, leaving deep crescent indents on the skin from his fingernails. “You drive me so insane, you don’t even know it.” He groans against your neck, biting and sucking hickeys on your collarbone. “You act all innocent and look so sweet, but I know what a dirty mind you really have.” Your moan loudly, clawing at his back desperately when you feel him press his huge bulge against your stomach. He hooks a finger on the top of your sock, pulling at the elastic hem before releasing it to smack on the flesh of your thighs. “You dress up like my pretty little angel just to get fucked like a whore, didn’t you?” You whimpered at how delicious the impact felt, squeezing your thighs together at the pool of wetness drenching your pussy. With a devilish smirk on his face— Sunghoon felt the insatiable hunger at how your body trembles in his arms. “Ass up and head down, doll. I’m gonna make you regret wearing something cute to make me fuck the shit out of you.”

Bending you over any surface so he can fuck you full of his cum like a toy

Your upper body is not completely rested on the table’s surface, enabling him access to your tits— pulling and pinching on your nipples as he pounds you from behind. He’ll reach out to grope your boobs, loving how it threatens to spill from his grip at how much it bounces when he thrusts his hips hard and fast. His hands will move to your love handles, hitting that spot where you scream the loudest over and over again until your head is buried deep into the table’s surface, drooling at how good his big cock was stretching your pussy. Fuck, Sunghoon can’t get enough of this view of you— making him delirious and high on pleasure, and the wet smacking that echoes heightens the tension in the room even more. “Yeah, you like that? Like how I fuck your pussy like a toy?” He’ll taunt, watching your back tense up at his words. “Oh, fuck yes—“ You drawled out, eyes rolling and back arching as you felt his fingers playing with your swollen clit. He was not gentle with the ball of nerve, swirling it back and forth with the pace of his deep thrust. “So close, I’m gonna come…..” Another reason why he loves fucking you in this position? Once he pulls out after cumming inside, he will watch with hooded eyes at how you’ll spread your legs wide for him to see his thick milky seed dripping out of your spent pussy with a proud smile.

Sunghoon likes pinning you against the wall because he wants you close to him

He likes to show off how much he can pin you to the wall with just one hand, caging you with his built body until you feel his weight envelop your whole figure. He'll kiss you sloppily on the lips, swiftly hooking one of your legs around his waist. "I wanna fuck you so bad," He pushed his hard cock into you without warning, not letting you adjust to his size as he began thrusting. "I love you so much that all I want to do is fuck this tight pussy until you can't walk." The initial pain started to wear off, allowing you to clench your walls around him every time he pulled out. “I-I love you, Sunghoon…please fuck me harder….” You gasped out. He didn't waste his time, capturing your lips again in a deep, hungry kiss that took your breath away. You wrap your hands around his neck, deepening the taste of his tongue in your mouth. He did the same, sucking on your bottom lip desperately as he secured your leg closer to his hips. Passionate tension grew immensely ravenous, a suffocating notion that only this position could grant him. Sunghoon would do anything to make love to you at such proximity— ensuring that each other's attention was pledged to this moment's shared pinnacle of pleasure.

When he notices the twitch of your expression and the way your hot walls spasm around his length, it signals him that you are close and he softly murmurs close to your ear like a lullaby. "That's it, my love. Come for me."

When his guilty pleasure is to have passionate shower sex because you feel like heaven under the water

You know, the moment he uttered those words— still standing in front of your shared apartment, a slight nod in understanding from you was aimed his way. “Join me in the shower?” Something like this was nothing unexpected from him. Sunghoon would often feel burned out from his hectic schedule, and his way of reviving his dire condition at the end of busy work day was to have each other’s naked body together— letting the hot water shed the tense muscles under his skin. “Tell me if it’s too hot,” He said from behind, wet hair sticking to his forehead. You were perched on your back against his chest, holding you firm with his hands groping to feel your ample breast. You chuckled at his doting words, especially when he was buried deep inside of you the moment you were under the water.

“I want it to be hotter, can you do that?” You push your hips back, feeling the tip of his cock kissing the deepest end of your womb. Sunghoon let out a deep moan, kissing the expanses of your neck so that his lips were melting you to the bone. “Anything for my princess.” He starts to rock his hips back and forth, the movement causing your tits to rub against the foggy glass door of the wall. Somehow, the water softened the action, yet the intensity never faltered— a slow and soft rhythm that insinuated how raw and intimate his thrust was.

He wouldn’t pull out even after finishing, basking in the after-sex glow while cock warming you until the heat becomes pleasurably unbearable.

Touching himself when he misses you a lot after being away from each other

Sunghoon is a patient man; he can wait a little while to come home and indulge himself with the help of your presence.

However, his preservation was slowly crumbling in both body and mind. Evidently, he was becoming too horny, so he took matters into his own hands while pulling out his hoodie— the one you’ll always wear around the house with nothing but a lacy underwear.

Your faint smell was still there, enticing his body that sends blood straight to his cock. Sunghoon strips down naked, laying on top of the clothing as he teasingly ruts his hips to the thought of you underneath him.

He’ll let out a sharp inhale, squeezing his eyes at the friction of the hoodie against his hard dick. He imagines you’ll warp your legs around his hips, thrusting up to meet him halfway, moaning close to his ears to go faster and harder. Your erect tits will graze on his chest, causing him to buck into the hoodie deeper, rougher.

“S-Sunnghoon! Shit, right there— hmmm!”

He was so high at the thought of you that he could envision your voice moaning his name.

Sunghoon reached up to roll a nipple between his fingertips, the sensation causing him to leak out more precum with gritted teeth. His movement starts to pick up, ecstasy overwhelming his body from the tip of his cock to his heavy balls.

He needed one more push, taking his wet cock in a fist and jerking the length while thumbing the red slit— the way you always like to play with him. Sunghoon choked on a sob, arching his back while repeating your name like a prayer, ropes of hot cum shooting up to bathe his abs with white.

With a hand over his eyes, his chest was panting with exhaustion, reminding him to borrow maybe a pair of panties from you the next time he’s away.

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