#it’s heist time gang

[localgirlbecomesobsessed]

The things you do for a date

Leo x Xena (established)

Part one

They deserve to be at the club, what she has to do to get them there, she doesn’t deserve.

Aka Hyde tasks her with something dangerous.

Chronic migraine Leo truther

Leo flopped onto the bed, arm covering his eyes as he dramatically groaned. Xena flopped next to him as he made grabby hands at her as she sighed rolling herself until she could reach him, she pulled herself up onto his chest and laid her head where his heart would be, smiling as the speedy thrumming echoed into her ears.

“I want to go ouuuuut.”

He whined at her, a golden eye peeking out as he lightly lifted his arm, they were both in uniform, both too exhausted to move and both…extremely bored of being enclosed in Darkwick.

They were meant to be in class, yet neither of them could handle going today, not that Leo went much anyway.

“Where would you go?”

Xena quietly asked fiddling with his necklace as Leo let out a strangled noise. The lights were dim, the black out curtains tightly shut together as the two relaxed together, a much needed break after weeks of strange annoyances.

“I’d go to the clubbb~”

Xena quietly huffed out a laugh as she sat up, Leo frowned at the loss of warmth but didn’t say anything about it. She grabbed a pillow, one of Leo’s pain meds and a bottle of water from the mini fridge next to the bed.

“You’re banned from a majority of clubs in Shibuya right?”

She tapped his arm as he removed it from his face, a sluggish moment revealing just how badly the migraine he’d been playing off as minor had cursed him. Despite the pain he still had a small smirk on his face as he gratefully took the meds and water, pride etched on his face at Xena’s statement.

“Yeah…if I’m lucky I’ll get banned from all of them.”

Xena snorted as she flopped back down, Leo joining her after he took his medicine.

“What about Vlad’s?”

She questioned, a small smile on her face as she remembered her favourite club, the only one she actually liked when she went out.

“What the fuck is Vlad’s?”

He was already searching it into TikTok, scoffing as the cliched vampire themed club dominated his feed.

“Really?”

He rolled his eyes showing Xena who just grinned.

“I take it you haven’t been banned from there yet…?”

He frowned as he rolled into her, dragging her closer to him as she just sighed at his dramatics.

“Yet…?”

They haven’t had any of their R&R permits approved in weeks, now with Samhain prep it seems it’s gonna be even harder to get around it. This short break (hiding) was only due to them promising to attend class today, it was only due to Alan’s insistence that they promised anyway…

“Hmmm you never know Darkwick might approve one of your requests…”

She yawned as she wiggled her way to the top of the bed, worming her way into the covers as Leo followed suit, neither have had much sleep the past couple of days, far too busy with missions or work to even have time for a small nap. Their planned date time now becoming a nap time as Leo wrapped his arms around Xena, pulling her close as they spooned, Xena hummed happily as she sneakily stole one of his hands clasping them together as she pulled it towards placing a sweet kiss to his knuckles as she sleepily devised a plan to get them that night of the club, thoughts interrupted as she could already sense Leo was crashing out behind her as he hid his face into the crook of her shoulder.

“Night mon Cher.”

———————————————————

Xena watched the fireplace roar as she blatantly ignored the annoying smiling man in front of her as she sipped at her tea in deep thought.

“It sounds dangerous.”

She finally said, interrupting the quiet that enveloped them as Hyde hummed in feigned thought at her statement.

“That’s because it is Xena!”

He clapped his hands happily as the floating hands brought over the paperwork for Xena for read over.

It was a simple acquisition job of an anomaly tool…it didn’t state what the use of the item was but it would’ve been pretty easy if it was just that…what doesn’t seem easy is the fact it’s in a massive mansion-on the night of a party-of some rich family who have a shady history…

“It won’t be just you either Xena! Romeo will be on this job with you too!”

Romeo…?

Of course that’s who he’s been in dealings with…

“Fine.”•_•

She sighed as she slammed her cup onto the coffee table, taking the files with her as she stormed out to meet with Romeo.

“Thanks XeXe~ I’ll approve the R&R for you once everything’s done!”

———————————————————

“Pay attention DD, we’ll only have 30 minutes to secure the goods, Now my EITS have alerted me they’ll be having a hypnotist performing at the party…”

Xena hummed in thought surveying the interior and exterior photos as she tried to figure out the best route to their prize.

It was located in a vault in the basement, it’s not heavily guarded in that specific area but the whole mansion itself was overloaded with guards. They’ve doubled the amount of guards for the party centralising around the mansions ballroom…the lowest of the aristocracy will be there, all with their honeyed hands in shady businesses.

“So…the best way to do this would be going in undercover, there’s three exits and I think our best shot would be the back garden, they have a hedge maze that-if we do get caught we could lose them in there…if we get a better layout of if?”

She handed the photos over to Romeo, who seemed almost pleasantly surprised at her competence.

“Yes, good choice CDD, I was thinking we could use the hypnotist as a distraction or a way to get them under control if I took over…it’d be easy.”

She snorted and raised an eyebrow, holding up the picture of the extravagant looking hypnotist, comparing it with Romeo who was deeply scowling at her as he snatched the sheet away.

“You’ll get wrinkles RoeRoe.” •_•

He slammed the picture onto the desk, looking at Xena in deep disdain.

“DRM! Urgh, obviously you can’t do it, you have the charisma of a straw hat.”

•_•

“I ooze charisma.” •_•

She kept a straight face as Romeo looked her incredulously, seeming personally offended by her declaration.

“YOU HAVE 0 CHARISMA ZILCH; RITSU HAS MORE CHARISMA THAN YOU, YOU POS.”

He pointed at her enraged as a small smirk spread across her face, she shrugged as she leaned against the table, only letting herself be slightly offended by his statement.

“I’m more charismatic than you though.”

The screech he emitted was worth it, he slammed the plans on the table next to her as she looked up at him in amusement.

“Urgh-Meet me at Mickey’s tonight, we have a week to plan…”

She rolled her eyes, agreeing as she caught one of his henchmen watching the two of them very closely, she narrowed her eyes at him and subtlety sent a text to Romeo about them.

“Right, well I’ll see you there…” •_•

She pushed passed him as a call from the chancellor came through.

What did Cornelius want?

———————————————————

The chaos of the inter squad did nothing to push back their plans as her and Romeo had to scramble to ensure everything goes according to their meticulous plan, meeting at Rui’s bar everynight much to Leo’s displeasure when he got told he couldn’t come join them.

She wanted it to be a surprise.

He’d been trying so hard to get an R&R request, so she wanted to surprise him and maybe go to Vlad’s…

She also fears he’d be livid with her for making a deal with Hyde; something he and Sho have warned her against repeatedly despite both making deals with him all the time.

She sighed as she made her way into the bar, slumping on a plushy velvet red chair at the back as she awaited for Romeo, who was chatting up Haru and Rui who both enthusiastically waved at her as she set up the map. She looked out the window, narrowing her eyes at the two idiots who were striding into the bar, Leo winking at her as they made eye contact.

“Well well well, is this where you’ve been hiding XeXe!”

He slid into her chair, lifting her up and placing Xena in his lap as Sho obediently went to the bar to get them drinks.

“Leo.” •_•

She’d missed him quite a bit, the two not being able to see eachother since she’d been on her missions, it’d nearly been a week and even before that they couldn’t see eachother much.

She sighed, turning to look at him as she shifted around to make it easier to wrap her arms around him. Taking a deep breath as Leo’s cologne washed over her, causing a small smile to grace her lips, something that got wiped off as Romeo approached them with disappointment etched on his features, a look directed solely at her.

“RoeRoe~ hogging Xena all to yourself? I’m hurt.”

Leo leaned back as he pouted at Romeo, who just rolled his eyes as he slid into his chair, crossing his legs as he leaned on the table watching the two of them with a careful look on his face.

“I see you’re easily pliable to his charms BB, is this really worth the WOE?”

Leo raised an eyebrow as Romeo looked at her unimpressed, Xena pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before sighing as she unwrapped her arms from him and properly faced the table, she stayed on his lap…she had no where else to sit after all as Leo stole her seat and Romeo insisted on always being in the back corner table and in the royal blue armchair that he claims highlights his good looks (it does but Xena refuses to admit it.)Sho came back with the drinks, noticing the odd energy at the table as he tried to swiftly walk back to the bar but Leo’s glare aimed at him made him sit down after he awkwardly dragged a chair over.

“Please im not the one blushing when Haru or Taiga talks to them, got a thing for red heads fico?” •_•

She gratefully took one of the drinks from Sho as she laid out the map more on the table, ignoring Romeo’s piercing gaze as he looked almost ready to kill her, Leo cackling from behind her as he wrapped her arms around her propping his head on her shoulder, looking curiously at the map of the mansion.

“Hmph…Kurosawa could be useful but for the BB endeavours its best you stay out of it, though…”

Romeo raised an eyebrow in deep thought as he evaluated Leo and Sho, he sipped at his wine as Xena rolled her eyes at his dramatics. She had told him how she wanted to surprise Leo and the strangely romantic Romeo had been stubborn in ensuring her pursuit and goal were met through merit and skill(and stealing a bunch more stuff from the mansion.)

Leo only frowned as Romeo trailed off, Xena’s endeavours? How would this even help with her curse…that’s besides the point, she’s spent more time with Romeo than she has Leo the past couple of weeks, not only that but she even went to the stupid cemetery that he’d been planning to take her out too (if they ever got an R&R request.) Not that she knew he was planning this, it was a surprise after all and it would’ve made a great TikTok series.

He wasn’t one to admit jealousy but the murmurs from students and the photos of Romeo and Xena together were all over the schools gossip channels fanned the flames within him as he stubbornly tried to figure out what could be so important that she had to leave his side, he gets for school missions but this was different and she didn’t come to him for help…

He clutched at her tighter, he had been listening in as much as he could despite Samhain prep, but all he got was that they were stealing from some old geezer?

“Leo.”

Xena poked his cheek as he snapped out of his thoughts, Romeo looked at him questioningly as he awaited his response.

“He asked if you could blackmail someone for him…they’re connected to our mission, the hypnotist…”

She whispered into his ear as Leo side glanced at her, shivering as her low toned voice sang into his ear.

“We can do that RoeRoe~ but after this mission, leave XeXe to me for a while before having her work again~she is mine after all!”

Xena looked at him wide eyed, a fond smile tugging at her lips as a light laugh slipped its way out as leo beamed at a grossed out Romeo.

She was his?

She sighed dreamily as she leaned back into his hold, she guessed she was his after all, she’ll spoil him as much as humanly possible after she gets this mission out of the way.

She just needs to get this mission out of the way….

She sighed with more exhaustion as Sho and Leo wandered off or more like Sho pulled Leo away as Romeo demanded privacy as they planned their backup route, they had Leo and Sho planning their blackmail to get the hypnotist to step down more easily.

Their mission will be starting tomorrow, Xena was terribly excited to get it over with…

[jemzstuff]

Thought about how Lupin the Third specials take place in whatever time it was when it was made and if I were to ever justify mentioning canon material but make them into present day. Very not thought out answer is timeline fkry

No I don't know how that would work but maybe the gang stole something that had time traveling powers and somehow the world just shifted. The gang are kinda freaked out but adapt kind of just fine but Zenigata is probably more freaked out than them and harder to adapt because haha old guy or smth

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

[stellasdrafts]

Girl Dad Headcanons - Arthur Morgan

“[Mr. Gillis] treats his daughter like a possession to be mistreated and abused as he sees fit. Strange creatures, men. I don’t know.”   -RDR2, Chapter 4, Fatherhood and Other Dreams

Notes: I was playing RDR2 the other day and his journal entry (above) after seeing Mary for the second time stood out to me. I think his relationship with women and feminism in the story is worth writing about. afab reader. 1.1k words.

Thinking of Arthur Morgan’s reaction to you birthing his little girl. It’s a surprise, naturally, given the time period. He isn’t disappointed by any means – God, no. He considers himself a blessed man as long as the little one looks like you. He’s concerned. Terrified of the world his little girl will have to live in, of the hardships she will be forced to face.

It isn’t something he’s thought of in such depth before. Sure, he’s had conversations with the women at camp -  he’s not naïve. Prejudices never even made logical sense to him.

Arthur, who didn’t bat an eye when Mary Beth told him she wanted to be a writer. He got her that pen without thinking twice because why shouldn’t women be able to write? Ain’t they people just like everyone else?

Arthur, who didn’t question Tilly for a second when finding out she killed that Foreman. He was told the asshole deserved it and sided with her in a heartbeat, assuming she had acted in self-defense. He would speak to her like a friend, too. Not like she was some inferior woman.

Arthur, who considered marrying Abigail when John left, because no woman should be shunned for being an unwed mother when it’s a deadbeat man who left in the first place. He always thought John took her for granted.

Arthur, who was always in awe of Sadie’s raw courage and determination, and who didn’t question her lead when she asked him to come along on her escapades. A good idea is a good idea, and a good shot is a good shot, no matter whom it comes from. She was a better fighter than most of the men in the gang, anyway.

Arthur, who saw Karen’s femininity as a strength rather than a weakness. She was clever and ambitious. She knew how people perceived her and used that to pull off outrageous heists. Plus, she wasn’t half bad with a shotgun. He never thought anything about her was weak.

Arthur, who despite enjoying teasing her, noticed everything Susan did for the camp. It secretly irritated him when he heard the others whining at her when she asked them to do chores because he knew the place would’ve fallen apart within days if it weren’t for her leadership.

Arthur, who immediately discerned when Molly started acting off. He checked in on her even when the rest of the camp villainized her as this spoiled, ungrateful girl. Sure, she had made mistakes, but most of the men had done worse.

A wave of dread washes over him as he admires his daughter, her little fingers wrapping around his finger, and he feels sick. He shouldn’t feel like this. He should be overcome with joy. Well, he is, but his upbringing will never allow him to be immersed in a moment without thinking of the harsh realities surrounding it. He looks at you and the fragile baby bundled in your arms. His whole world sits in the bed before him. Everyone and everything he values most in this miserable world – are women. Women who have and who will inevitably be mistreated and underestimated, despite having the power to create literal life. Despite being ten times more rational, intelligent, and kinder than almost all the men he’s known even with the challenges thrown at them. He makes a vow to himself the minute his daughter is born. A vow that he’ll never let anything happen to her or you as he did Eliza and Isaac. He’s never known his purpose in life, but from that moment on, he knows exactly why he was put on this earth – to care for the two of you, his family.

Arthur, who overheard how Micah would speak to and of the women at camp, and never so much as entertained his delusions.

Arthur, who always offers a hand to help women off or on their horses and wagons.

Arthur, who excuses himself when he bumps into women, as opposed to telling off men when he does them.

Arthur, who rides around Rhodes some weeks after your daughter was born, searching for any women he might recognize from the suffrage protest he crashed with Beau all that time ago.

Arthur, who stops in his tracks when he hears the voice of the woman in Saint-Denis who pickets for her voting rights – the same voice he’s heard twenty times before, but it feels different now. He drops a few bills into her hat because he’s never been a particularly political man, but he’ll be damned if his daughter doesn’t get a say in the kind of world she’ll live in when the time comes.

And you can be sure he’ll teach her how to handle a firearm when she’s older. It brings back unpleasant memories, and he wishes for a better life for her than what he had, of course, but he knows the type of men there are out there. Hell, he used to run with them.

Arthur, who sees the two of you as his redemption.

He doesn’t know how he’s been handed such goodness. Surely, he was undeserving after everything he’s done? But every time he lays eyes on his precious baby girl, he grants himself a smidge of forgiveness. Something all bad couldn’t produce something so perfect, right?

He listens to her babbles and he can’t understand a thing. He thinks back on every good thing he’s ruined in his life – he’s a destructive man. He destroys everything he touches, but his baby reaches out to him with a sleepy smile and the utmost trust. When she looks at him, she sees her father, not a killer but rather safety, not the blood of every man he’s killed but a warm embrace. She’s his, not in the sense of Mr. Gillis treating Mary like his property, but in the sense that he now has the privilege of having the responsibility to love, protect, and care for this angel of a being.

He's scared shitless. His father hadn’t stuck around much, but he’s determined to be the best version of himself for his little girl. He would never leave like his dad did. He would never give up on her as Dutch did him. He would teach her to be clever and to think on her toes, like Hosea did – without all the deception, of course.

Arthur, who starts a second journal to write solely about his girl, just to have something to leave her when the time comes. Until then, she’ll never know how good of a writer her father was.

He would gladly be a soldier one last time. One last time to give you and his daughter the life you deserve.

[heartfullofleeches]

Mime Darling as a stripper tho- Maybe the murder clown gang is planning a big heist at a popular club/casino and they decide to play it safe for once with eyes on the inside. Imagine the tricks they could get up to with their powers-

-

Murder Clown: Damn- You look good, Mimey. Still short tho-

[Mime Darling rolls their eyes - pushing the clown backwards into an invisible chair. They mount their teammate, throwing an leg over the clown's shoulder with a tilt of their head that reads "You were saying?~"]

Mime Darling: :)?

Murder Clown: ....I stand corrected

-

Customer: That a fucking mime? Sheesh, they'll let anyone on stage.

[Mime Darling winks at them, blowing a kiss]

Customer: Y'know...on second thought....

Murder Clown sitting behind them - kissstick stain on their cheek: That wasn't meant for you, buddy.

-

Murder Clown: Alright, Mimey - got your protection incase anything goes wrong tonight?

[Mime Darling nods their head - rolling up their skirt and showing off their bare thigh]

Murder Clown: I don't see anything

[Mime Darling rolls their eyes again - grabbing the clown's hand and resting it on their thigh where they feel the outline of a gun. The clown's blush shows through their many layers of makeup.]

Murder Clown: Whelp - I'm even more aroused than I was ten seconds ago. We still got like an hour before everyone else is ready. Wanna pass the time in that closet over there?

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

You're the new hot and smart underling

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- From the moment you joined the Joker’s ranks, his interest was piqued. Your sharp mind and striking presence stood out amongst the usual riff-raff. “A diamond in the rough!” he declared with a manic grin. Though he initially treated you like any other henchperson, his curious glances and the way he leaned in during conversations hinted at deeper intrigue.

- The Joker quickly made it a point to test your intellect. He threw out riddles mid-conversation, asked for your input on his chaotic plans, and watched with delight as you matched his wit. When you pointed out a flaw in one of his schemes—something no one else dared to do—he clapped his hands and cackled. “I like you,” he said, the words dangerously lighthearted.

- He couldn’t resist pulling you into the spotlight, often assigning you the most high-profile tasks. “Let’s see what you’re really made of!” he’d say with a grin that sent chills down your spine. Success was met with a rare approval, while failure earned a manic lecture or a laugh that felt more threatening than amused.

- Over time, his obsession with you became clear. He’d show up unannounced while you worked, circling you like a predator and commenting on how “refreshingly unpredictable” you were. His attention was both a blessing and a curse, offering protection but also putting you in constant danger of his volatile whims.

- The other henchpeople noticed the Joker’s fixation on you, leading to whispers and jealousy. Some even tried to undermine you, but the Joker put an immediate stop to it. “Nobody touches my little genius,” he’d hiss, his voice icy before switching back to his signature grin.

- Despite his madness, there were moments where his attention bordered on genuine. He’d hand you a gift—a macabre joke of a trinket—and watch your reaction with keen interest. Yet, his affection always felt like a game, a dangerous dance where losing meant the stakes could turn deadly.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley was instantly drawn to you when you joined the gang. “Ooh, fresh meat!” she teased, her Brooklyn accent thick with mischief. It didn’t take long for her to notice your sharp mind and how you carried yourself with confidence. “Smart and hot? You’re a triple threat, sugar!” she exclaimed, clearly intrigued.

- Harley loved testing your limits, throwing you into chaotic situations to see how you handled them. Whether it was a high-speed getaway or negotiating with rival criminals, she’d watch you with sparkling eyes, clapping her hands in glee when you exceeded expectations.

- Her flirtation was constant and shameless. She’d saunter up to you during planning sessions, twirling a strand of her blonde-and-pink hair. “Y’know, if I wasn’t with Mistah J, I’d have to snatch you up,” she’d say with a wink, though you couldn’t always tell how serious she was.

- As your competence became undeniable, Harley began to rely on you more and more. She’d drag you into her schemes, insisting, “You’re my good luck charm!” She’d giggle when things went awry but always trusted you to pull them back together.

- Harley wasn’t above showing off for you, either. During fights or heists, she’d go out of her way to make dramatic, acrobatic moves, casting a playful glance your way afterward. “Betcha didn’t know I could do that, huh?” she’d say, grinning ear to ear.

- Beneath her bubbly exterior, Harley grew genuinely attached to you. She’d seek you out during quiet moments, talking about everything from the stars to her favorite cartoons. “You’re somethin’ special, y’know?” she’d say softly, her tone unusually serious before covering it with a laugh.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Ivy noticed you the moment you walked in. She had an uncanny way of sensing power, and there was something about your intelligence and charisma that intrigued her. “You’re not like the rest of them,” she said with a sly smile, her green eyes piercing.

- She tested you in subtle ways, asking for your opinion on her environmental crusades or challenging you with complex tasks. When you provided thoughtful, insightful answers, she found herself impressed. “Hmm, perhaps you’re worth keeping around,” she mused, though the glimmer of approval in her gaze said more.

- Ivy quickly took you under her wing, ensuring you worked closely with her. She’d often call you to her greenhouse, watching as you moved carefully among her plants. “You have respect for life,” she’d note, almost to herself. Her approval felt rare and precious, like sunlight through the trees.

- Her fondness for you grew in small but significant ways. She’d casually offer you gifts—rare flowers or herbs—claiming they were “just leftovers.” When you thanked her, she’d wave it off, but the faint smile on her lips betrayed her pleasure.

- Ivy’s protective instincts soon kicked in. If anyone in the organization dared to disrespect you, they’d find themselves tangled in vines before they could blink. “No one touches what’s mine,” she’d declare, her voice cold and commanding, though she never elaborated on the claim.

- Despite her aloof demeanor, Ivy valued your presence deeply. In quiet moments, she’d open up about her dreams of a better world, her voice soft and wistful. “You understand,” she’d say, almost vulnerable. “You see the beauty in the chaos, just like me.”

Bane

- Bane was initially skeptical of you. Beauty and intelligence were rare qualities among his recruits, and he wondered if you were too good to be true. “Prove your worth,” he demanded, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. His voice was calm but carried the weight of a challenge.

- You quickly earned his respect through your sharp strategies and unflinching determination. Bane valued strength, both physical and mental, and your ability to stay calm under pressure impressed him. “You are more capable than most,” he admitted, a rare compliment from the man who broke the Bat.

- Bane began involving you in higher-level plans, seeking your input and trusting your judgment. “You think like a tactician,” he observed, his dark eyes studying you intently. His approval felt earned, a testament to your hard work and resilience.

- Despite his stoic demeanor, Bane showed his care in subtle ways. He ensured you were well-protected during missions, assigning his most loyal soldiers to watch your back. “Your mind is a valuable asset,” he’d say, though his actions hinted at something more personal.

- Over time, Bane’s respect for you deepened into admiration. He found himself drawn to your unwavering determination and the way you carried yourself with quiet confidence. “You remind me of someone who fights for what they believe in,” he said once, his tone almost reverent.

- Bane’s connection to you became undeniable when he began sharing fragments of his past. “Strength is forged in pain,” he told you one night, his voice low and reflective. “You understand that. It’s why you belong here—with me.” His words carried a rare vulnerability, a glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- Jonathan’s first impression of you was clinical curiosity. Among the sea of his mindless minions, your sharp intelligence and composed demeanor were a breath of fresh air. He observed you silently for days, cataloging your behavior like a subject in his experiments. “Fascinating,” he murmured to himself when you solved a problem no one else could.

- He wasted no time putting your mind to the test, assigning you tasks meant to break weaker recruits. When you succeeded with ease, he became both intrigued and slightly unnerved. “You’re more resilient than I expected,” he remarked, his tone bordering on admiration, though his calculating eyes betrayed his constant evaluation.

- As you gained his respect, Jonathan began sharing his philosophical musings with you. “Fear,” he’d say, leaning closer, “is the only true motivator.” He watched your reactions intently, searching for a flicker of agreement or defiance. Your willingness to engage in these debates only solidified his growing fascination with you.

- Over time, he involved you in his experiments, valuing your input on the effects of his fear toxin. He’d watch you work with a rare, quiet intensity, occasionally breaking the silence to ask your opinion. “Tell me,” he said once, “what do you fear most?” The question lingered in the air, more personal than professional.

- Jonathan’s protectiveness over you grew subtly. If anyone questioned your methods or competence, he’d silence them with a single glare. “This one,” he’d say, his voice cold, “is not to be underestimated.” His approval came sparingly, but when given, it felt like a hard-earned triumph.

- Despite his detached nature, Jonathan found himself drawn to your presence in a way that surprised even him. During his quieter moments, he’d share fragments of his past, his voice tinged with bitterness and vulnerability. “Perhaps,” he said one night, almost to himself, “fear isn’t the only thing that defines us.”

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey noticed you the moment you joined his organization. Half of him admired your intelligence and poise, while the other half—gruffer, more distrusting—demanded you prove your loyalty. “Let’s see how you handle yourself,” he said, flipping his coin. Heads, you were given a chance; tails, you were thrown into the fire.

- Your quick thinking and unshakable composure soon won over both sides of Harvey. He appreciated your ability to adapt to his volatile moods, navigating his dual nature with surprising ease. “You’re good,” he admitted one day, his scarred side smirking while the unscarred side gave a small nod of approval.

- Harvey began relying on you for more than just grunt work, bringing you into his inner circle. He’d consult you during planning sessions, flipping his coin before agreeing with your suggestions. “You’re smart,” he said, his voice laced with reluctant admiration. “Almost too smart for your own good.”

- Despite his hardened exterior, Harvey showed glimpses of softness around you. On rare occasions, he’d let his guard down, speaking about the struggles of balancing his two selves. “You think it’s easy?” he asked one night, his voice raw. “Living with two voices in your head?” He didn’t expect an answer but seemed comforted by your understanding.

- His dual nature extended to how he treated you. On good days, he’d praise your work and share a drink with you, his charm shining through. On bad days, he’d lash out, only to apologize later. “You shouldn’t stick around someone like me,” he muttered once, his good side conflicted while his bad side growled, “But you will.”

- Over time, Harvey’s admiration for you turned into something deeper. He became fiercely protective, warning anyone who dared to question your loyalty or competence. “This one’s mine,” he’d say, the flip of his coin deciding whether the threat ended there—or escalated further.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward immediately gravitated toward you when you joined his crew. Your intelligence was obvious, and he couldn’t resist testing it. “Riddle me this,” he said with a smirk, throwing out puzzles and watching with delight as you solved them with ease. “Finally,” he exclaimed, “someone worthy of my brilliance!”

- He quickly made you his personal protégé, dragging you into his elaborate schemes and assigning you tasks that required both wit and precision. “Don’t disappoint me,” he warned, though the gleam in his eye suggested he didn’t expect you to. Your successes only fueled his ego, making him more confident in his choice.

- Edward loved showing off around you, often monologuing about his genius or presenting you with his latest riddles. He craved your approval, though he’d never admit it outright. “You see it, don’t you?” he’d ask, leaning closer. “How much smarter I am than everyone else?”

- As your bond grew, Edward became more possessive of your time and attention. He’d grow irritable if you worked with anyone else, muttering about how “inferior minds” didn’t deserve your talents. “You’re wasted on them,” he’d say, his tone dripping with disdain.

- Despite his arrogance, Edward valued your opinions deeply. He’d often ask for your input during planning sessions, genuinely considering your ideas. When you outsmarted him in a rare moment, he was equal parts annoyed and impressed. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he grumbled, though his smile betrayed his pride in you.

- Beneath his bravado, Edward harbored a genuine fondness for you. In quieter moments, he’d confide in you about his insecurities, his voice softer and more vulnerable than you’d ever heard. “Do you think they’ll ever truly understand me?” he asked once, his question laced with an uncharacteristic hint of doubt.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald was skeptical when you first joined his ranks. He’d seen plenty of attractive recruits come and go, and he assumed you’d be no different. But when you demonstrated your sharp mind and ability to navigate his world, he quickly took notice. “Hmm,” he muttered, adjusting his monocle. “You might be more useful than you look.”

- He began assigning you more important tasks, watching closely to see how you handled yourself. When you not only met but exceeded his expectations, he couldn’t help but be impressed. “Well, well,” he said with a smirk. “It seems I’ve underestimated you.”

- Oswald had a flair for theatrics, and he loved dragging you into his schemes. He’d show off his wealth and power, often treating you to luxurious dinners or gifting you extravagant trinkets. “Consider it an investment,” he’d say, though his smug grin suggested otherwise.

- Over time, Oswald’s respect for you grew into admiration. He appreciated your loyalty and competence, valuing you as more than just another underling. “You’ve got potential,” he told you one night, his tone unusually sincere. “Stick with me, and you’ll go far.”

- Despite his ruthless nature, Oswald showed surprising protectiveness over you. If anyone dared to disrespect or threaten you, they’d find themselves at the mercy of his sharp-tipped umbrella. “No one crosses the Penguin,” he growled, his eyes cold. “Especially not someone under my wing.”

- Oswald’s attachment to you became evident in his quieter moments. He’d share stories of his past, his voice tinged with bitterness and longing. “The world never gave me a chance,” he said once, his gaze distant. “But you—you’re different. You’ve got what it takes to survive.”

[notsodelirious]

Can you do Jason Todd and reader who is losing their hearing? You can do some nsfw too. 🙃

walk of shame to present you with a fic a month late — hi!

synopsis: You forget to disclose a minor disability and the mission goes a little awry

notes: SFW if a little suggestive sometimes

tags: crime boss Jason, goon!reader, hearing loss, gun fights, heists (gone wrong), pre-relationship, abt 1.2k words, GN!reader

this is actually the second version of my response to this ask because I didn’t like how soft Jason was in the first but I will be posting the other one too

also shout out to my friend who put up with all my questions about being HoH

here’s my masterlist!

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

“What the fuck was that?”

You glared silently, sprawled on your chair, eyes moving back and forth as they tracked your boss pacing in front of you.

The room was cold, damp, and the vague smell of mould permeated the air, thick and sour. Dubbed the ‘oops box’—unfairly jovial name for such a depressing room.

“Somebody could have been killed.”

A failed bust.

Red Hood had laid out a detailed plan, had painstakingly explained how three of you would infiltrate the warehouse and cause just enough of a commotion for more to attack from the front and a third group to take Sionis’ guns and book it. The getaway driver had an escape route, the runners had targeted crates, the entire plan was foolproof.

But maybe you were a bigger fool than Hood had anticipated.

You had been one of the infiltrators—small and nimble, you were by far the best shot in Red Hood’s entire gang and he knew that. Had the plan called for it, he would have just left you on a rooftop somewhere to snipe down enemies.

But down in Gotham Harbour, there was no cover, so you were thrown into the fray.

He’d been so confident you could handle it.

And at first you had, so perfectly, slipping in so casually and unnoticed that nobody blinked twice at the new body stood amongst them, so clearly one of them that they didn’t question it until one of the guards was bleeding on the floor, a bullet lodged in his skull.

All hell broke loose after that.

You took out three more men before Red Hood dropped from the ceiling and the true massacre started, gunshots resonating throughout the entire harbour, shaking your bones, making your jaws clatter.

It was so loud.

Loud and painful.

That’s the reason you gave yourself for not hearing Hood’s barked command before he disappeared.

You didn’t have time to stop and wonder what he said—you were being shot at, somebody was yelling in the comm in your ear, your entire skeleton felt like it was about to buzz out of your skin.

You had to survive first.

You stumbled behind a stack of crates, avoiding the gunfire, when you saw another one of Hood’s men, Dan, dash for the exit.

That couldn’t have been right—there were still another 3 minutes left to load the truck. You didn’t mean to make eye contact with Dan, but your confusion was no doubt plastered all over your face.

His head snapped back to the exit before his shoulders dropped, and he ran back towards you.

He crumpled to the ground before he could reach you, when a bullet struck him in the shoulder.

You didn’t hesitate to rush to him, dragging him away from the fray, mentally apologising when he whined pathetically, like a dog, as you jostled him.

Red Hood appeared beside you, picking Dan up by the scruff of his jacket, leaving you to stumble as you overcompensated, and he hauled your injured teammate to the back of the truck.

Under a rain of bullets, you clambered into the truck’s container, the engine roared to life as soon as Hood slapped the wall.

The dread began to grow as the gunshots grew fainter. Silence heavy and suffocating—you ignored the harsh whispers and worried glances as some of the men tried to tend to Dan.

All you could focus on instead was the sharp ringing in your ears and your boss’ glare.

“Dan nearly lost his fucking arm because you can’t listen!” he slammed his gloved hands into the table before you, making it shriek and rattle.

“What the actual fuck were you thinking! No, because you actually weren’t thinking, were you! You stupid ass idiot when I tell you to do something, you do it!”

He shoved the table—you caught it before it could slam into your ribs.

“You’re an insubordinate, fucking *moron-*!”

“I didn’t fucking hear you!”

Red Hood paused in his step. He turned to you slowly, empty eyes staring far past your soul.

“… say to me?”

“I didn’t fucking hear you,” you mumbled as you glared at him before rubbing your eyes—you hadn’t even been sure there was anything to hear.

Until Dan had gotten a bullet to the shoulder, and you came to the conclusion of escape yourself. So-

Red Hood circled back to you, resting his hands against the tabletop, gently.

He stared at you.

You frowned as you glanced around—what was he waiting for?

You nearly leapt out of your skin when you heard the *click* and hiss of the helmet being undone, and dropped unceremoniously on the table. And oh… the boss was awfully pretty.

You shook your head, distracted by sharp cheekbones and a strong nose and pretty sea green eyes.

“I said,” your eyes snapped down to his lips, following their movement as he spoke slowly, “Repeat that.”

“I didn’t hear your order… sir,” you admitted softly, tacking on the formality at the end—which felt almost wrong if not for habit. The boss looked young—younger than you, even if by just a couple of years.

“Why?”

You shrugged. You just didn’t.

You crossed your arms as you stared up.

“It was loud.”

“Dan… me.” Your eyebrows scrunched.

“What?”

“For fuck’s sake!”

“You keep fucking mumbling!”

“How the fuck did we go this long and nobody noticed!”

“Because you’re always fucking yelling, boss!”

Hood took a step back as you slumped back into your chair, huffing softly, looking away pointedly.

You startled when gloved fingers grabbed your jaw, jerking your head back so you were looking at Hood.

“Don’t ignore me,” he growled, grip tight on your face. You glared but eventually nodded as best you could—not that you had much of a choice, your face being held by a man who could easily snap your neck.

“When did this start?”

You shrugged.

“Do you know any sign language?”

You shook your head.

He sighed and dropped your face, pinching his nose bridge, leaving you to work out the kinks in your jaw—honestly rude of him to leave you so turned on in the middle of an interrogation.

“Here’s what’s happening,” he said after making sure your eyes were on him, “I’m teaching you sign, I’m teaching you to lip read properly—catch you slacking in either of those things, you’re out.”

“Yes, boss.”

“I’m talking to Leslie about hearing aids and proper ear protection—you’re *all* getting a lecture on this.”

You rolled eyes—and this was your fault; as if it was your fault your father hadn’t told you about ear protection when he taught you to shoot at the tender age of 10.

Hood caught your face again, grip viper-like as he yanked you forward.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, boss,” you mumbled. He pushed your face away, making your chair screech against the concrete.

“I’ll make sure the other boys know to raise their voices and look at you when speaking,” he said as he reached down to pick up his helmet but didn’t put it on quite yet.

“And you’re picking up Dan’s chores for the weak.”

“Yes, boss.”

He looked you up and down before he unclasped his helmet.

“And you never saw my face.”

You smirked as you rocked back on your chair.

“Yes, boss.”

“Dismissed.”

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

other version tomorrow probably idk I don’t exactly have a regular upload schedule

requests are still closed because I have no self control, but here’s my masterlist!

[ailius-suffers-through-art]

au where basically everything is reversed and layton is our titular gentleman-cambrioleur.

to note:

The black ravens are still a bunch of streetkids, and crow is the leader running a long con, while working on the side as the youngest police intern. The black ravens will sometimes lend information to layton as long as he pays them in return.

The triton family are one of the more powerful organized crime families in france. They, alongside the Ascot family and the Tuilerons family (angela maiden name in this AU), essentially run france. The Tritons are the main force in the Aquitaine région.

Clark and Brenda didn't want luke to get too involved with the family business while he was young, and were genuinely surprised when he showed an interest in crime and the strange thief who arrived in their town.

Layton's first heist was the abkadain ruins in england. In fact, Layton is a native born englishman, but moved to france in his youth with his adopted parents. This is where he met the stansbury gang. He'd agreed to follow Randall's detective nose all the way back to england when they were teens, where he found the treasure but lost randall. After this, he gave up on crime and went clean.

Layton, Clark, Brenda, Paul, Dimitri, and Claire went to university together, but parted ways after Claire's death. Layton was enamoured by Claire and she was where his desire to become a gentleman came from. Her death was also what pushed him to become a thief again, in order to get back at the rich and powerful for the death of his beloved.

Clive, a french journalist, lost his and Clark's parents in the same accident that took Claire's life. He then swore revenge on the noble who had commissioned the experiment. Who then got elected as the prime minister of france, named Billiam Hawks. His assassination plans aren't going so hot at the moment, but after finding out that the phantom thief who saved his life as a child was back and causing mayham he vows to try and make good on his treason.

Bloom is the lead detective on the case of the international criminal Jean Descole. He's the youngest prodigy of the Sûreté Nationale, and he is utterly bored in his job. The most excitement he gets is when Jean Descole pulls another dangerous stunt, but even then the guy is such an asshole that it ruins all the fun of the chase. He's this close to quitting and becoming a criminal himself. Can successfully stop Descole's schemes a solid 6 times out of 10. He's also very sick of putting up with this newbie private detective who popped up and is trying to catch Descole. This guy needs a vacation, or enough alcohol to drown a horse.

Randall, with all his amnesia for the accident all those years ago, ended up moving back to france when he caught wind that a certain criminal popped up there. As the lost heir to the Ascot house, he holds a lot of power he doesn't even know about. Rather, he spends his days as a private detective with an incredibly high solve rate. After moving to Monte d'Or to catch Descole on his next heist, he decides to finally pick up an assistant and grabs the next dude on the street who seems willing.

That dude happens to be Nils, who is a totally law abiding citizen and definitely has never committed grand larceny in his life. Swear on his mum's soul. He hangs out with Randall because he thinks its fun watching him solve cases, and it gives him opportunities to do perfectly legal things thank you very much. Has a girlfriend named Colette that he steals things for. The two are in a very loving relationship, and also love causing problems to everyone in a 50 mile radius together.

Flora Reinhold is the daughter of an incredibly rich baron in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes région. Sequestered away in the alps, she's lived her whole life sheltered. After she meets Layton and Luke, however, she become determined to become a gentlewoman cambrioleur in her own right. Runs away from home to force layton to adopt her, and basically hostages herself on him. Now she's training under him as his second unofficial apprentice.

Emmeline (Emmy) is a freelancer writer and reporter who's been following the recent crime spikes. She works frequently with the Sûreté Nationale to cover and investigate cases. Works frequently alongside Detective Bloom and Clive. All three are basically a friend group. She's probably the one person Bloom actually likes in his job.

Bronev is part of some cult or something. secret society protecting a treasure who noped out on his kids to go do that under duress or something. idk about him ngl i didn't think about it much.

Renowned globally, Desmond Sycamore is one of the leading British Investigators on the Jean Descole Case. His record is immaculate, and people wonder if there's any case he can't solve. He's crashed several of Descole's heists. He's also the secret true identity of Jean Descole. He moved to Paris in order to pursue the criminal. Bloom thinks he's a prick. Randall admires him greatly.

Anton Herzen is one of the oldest Dukes in the country. He lives in the Hauts-de-France region, in a massive castle with his butler. He is eventually returned a jewel he once had stolen from him after Layton steals it back from a greedy noble who had pillaged the castle in the dead of the night.

anyways yeah thats fhe lore ive got rn. im so nromal about phantom thieves guys i promise....

[pomegranatelifethis]

What If in the ‘Forgotten Princess’ x Robin Hood y/n ran away from home if you can call it that because like Robin Hood were they GOOD at it and made a team of lost or abused people who have talent but were left in the roast like them…

They disguised as a circus or like Yaelokre and they move from site to site and from town to town and they start slowly growing they know that y/n used to be a princess but they put it to getter that they were abused because they never hear about them and the scares and like y/n is nice and give them a home so they not fighting the head that feeds them

And the bats find out that they are dead and how and they are sad and stuff but one day they find out that their home was robbed by the gang (using y/n knowledge on the castle layout) and they found y/n circus/yaelokre and see them and when they follow them they found out they are Robin hood and they see them take away a girl that was being abused and take them back to camp

And they learn why they basically adopted a bunch of kids and adults because they were living in hate, hurt, and no good life and they took them away and trained them to rob and give to the poor and to play music or do what they love

But they get caught and arrows are pointed at them and offer weapons and when they are surrounded they say ‘I the dad/brother/sister of your leader’ and y/n look at them with filed eyes and not love they show to the team some of them step back just by that look and said ‘since when?..’ and then they knocked out and left on a road with no of the money to fables they had

If you do this thank you, I put a way to muck through into this and love your writing :)

The Princess Forgotten in the Dark

The palace was never your home. It never had been.

People avoided your gaze, servants who didn’t even know your name were treated as more important than you. You were supposed to be a princess. But in reality, you were nothing more than a ghost.

And one day, you ran.

Maybe out of hunger, maybe out of fear, or maybe just… because you wanted something to change.

But you wouldn’t have survived long on your own.

Just when you thought it was over, they found you.

Thieves.

But not the kind you expected. They weren’t bad people.

They were like you.

They took in the lost, the abandoned, the abused.

They had built their own little family.

And they took you in, too.

They fed you.

They gave you a name.

They gave you a purpose.

In time, you learned to be fast. To move quietly, to pick locks, to disappear without a trace.

But more importantly, you learned to save others.

No one had ever saved you, but now you could be the one to save them.

You raided slave markets, you stole from corrupt lords, you fed the hungry.

People began to call you a hero.

You were free.

Until one day, your past found you.

—

A heist went wrong.

You were surrounded. Arrows aimed at you.

And worse… Batfamily was there.

Bruce’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"I am your father."

Everyone turned to look at you.

You looked back at them.

But there was no recognition in your eyes.

You didn’t know them.

And you didn’t want to.

"Since when…?" someone whispered.

You didn’t answer.

Because you didn’t know.

Because it didn’t matter.

Because you weren’t that person anymore.

And then… darkness took you.

But even as you fell, you knew one thing.

You never wanted to go back.

Because your family was here, among the thieves.

And they never forgot you.

[bimbodolllll]

may a request Mitsuya x reader where she is his girlfriend but he didn't tell Toman about her and his friends just suspect that he has one and basically they are secretly watching him and trying to guess who the girl is with whom they saw him

۶ৎ Guess Who.

۶ৎ auth: 3/3, how you enjoy <3

۶ৎ Summary: He been acting different, his friends are getting suspicious and assuming he’s dating someone and now they determined to find out who you are.

۶ৎ: oneshot | female reader

۶ৎ Characters Included: Mitsuya Takashi

Toman was known for handling gang wars, throwing hands, and protecting their own. But when it came to Takashi Mitsuya’s love life?

They were absolutely useless.

It all started with a whisper.

“Oi, Chifuyu.”

Chifuyu glanced up from his drink, only to be met with Baji’s mischievous smirk. They were lounging around after school, killing time before another Toman meeting.

“Hmm?”

“Have you noticed… Mitsuya’s been acting weird lately?” Baji leaned in, his tone dripping with suspicion.

Chifuyu blinked, looking over at Mitsuya, who was sitting across from them, casually scrolling through his phone. Nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary—calm, collected, and cool as always.

“Weird how?”

“He’s been smiling more.”

Chifuyu raised a brow. “And that’s… bad?”

“Not that kind of smile,” Baji whispered dramatically, leaning closer like he was about to share classified information. “It’s a different smile. Like… a girl smile.”

Chifuyu’s eyes narrowed as he glanced back at Mitsuya, watching as his fingers typed out something on his phone, a small—barely noticeable—grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“…He’s right,” Draken muttered from the side, crossing his arms as he joined the conversation. “I caught him sneaking out after our last meeting. And when I asked where he was going…” Draken’s eyes darkened.

“What did he say?” Chifuyu whispered, leaning in as if they were plotting a heist.

Draken’s face was unreadable. “Home.”

“Home?” Chifuyu echoed, blinking.

“Home?” Baji’s jaw dropped. “Bro… Mitsuya never lies. But he’s been going somewhere. And I know damn well he wasn’t going home.”

“Exactly.” Draken nodded.

Silence fell over them as they processed this earth-shattering revelation.

“…Mitsuya’s got a girl,” Baji declared, eyes wide with realization.

“Wait, wait, wait…” Chifuyu’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re telling me Mitsuya… Takashi Mitsuya… has a girlfriend and didn’t tell any of us?”

“Tch.” Draken clicked his tongue. “If he’s hiding her… it’s serious.”

“Which means…” Baji’s grin returned, more devious than ever. “We gotta find out who she is.”

—

Phase One: Surveillance—as Baji called it.

The next few days were filled with chaos.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Baji whispered harshly, ducking behind a tree as Mitsuya walked out of class. “He’s on the move.”

“Why are we whispering?” Chifuyu hissed, crouching beside him.

“Because it’s a stealth mission, duh.”

“Will you two shut up?” Draken muttered, standing behind them with his arms crossed. “We look like idiots.”

But the moment Mitsuya turned the corner, the three of them silently followed—keeping a “safe” distance but staying close enough to watch his every move.

It didn’t take long for Mitsuya to run into someone—a girl.

“Target acquired,” Baji whispered dramatically.

“Is that her?” Chifuyu squinted, trying to get a better look.

The girl was cute—short hair, bright smile, and she seemed to be talking animatedly about something. Mitsuya looked… interested, but his expression remained neutral.

“Maybe…” Draken murmured, watching closely.

But then—

Mitsuya bowed politely, waved, and walked away.

“Nope.” Baji groaned, smacking his forehead. “False alarm.”

“Damn,” Chifuyu sighed.

—

Phase Two: Process of Elimination

“Okay, so it’s not the girl from class 3-A,” Chifuyu muttered, crossing her off the list.

“Or the girl from the sewing club,” Baji added.

“Not that one chick who asked him for notes, either,” Draken murmured.

They had been at this for days. And despite their best efforts, they were getting nowhere. Every time they thought they had figured it out, Mitsuya would deny it with a straight face.

“Who, her?” Mitsuya had blinked, confused. “Nah. We were just talking about fabrics.”

“Her?” He tilted his head. “She needed help with her homework.”

“Eh? No.” He laughed softly. “I don’t even know her name.”

They were going crazy.

“Maybe… maybe he doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Chifuyu said one afternoon, his tone almost defeated.

“He does,” Baji insisted. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Then why hasn’t he told us?”

“Because,” Draken muttered, his eyes narrowing, “he doesn’t want us to mess it up.”

They all paused.

“…That’s fair,” Baji admitted.

“Very fair,” Chifuyu nodded.

—

Phase Three: Accidental Discovery

They had given up.

After weeks of failed attempts, they decided it wasn’t worth the headache. If Mitsuya wanted to keep it a secret, fine. Let him be.

But fate had other plans.

It happened after a Toman meeting one afternoon. Mitsuya had left early, as usual, giving his usual “gotta take care of my sisters” excuse. Nothing suspicious.

But as they were walking down the street, they spotted him.

And he wasn’t alone.

Mitsuya was walking beside her. And this time…

There was no denying it.

She was laughing softly, her hand brushing lightly against his as they walked, and Mitsuya—their Mitsuya—was looking at her with the softest expression they had ever seen.

“Holy…” Baji whispered, his jaw practically on the floor.

Chifuyu blinked. “That’s… definitely her.”

“She’s… cute,” Draken murmured, brows raised.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way Mitsuya looked at her—like she was the only person in the world.

“Damn,” Baji whistled lowly. “Our boy’s smitten.”

They watched as Mitsuya walked her to her door, saying something that made her giggle before she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

Mitsuya’s face turned a shade of pink none of them had ever seen before.

“He’s blushing,” Chifuyu whispered, eyes wide.

“Bro,” Baji blinked. “Mitsuya blushes?”

“Apparently.” Draken’s lips twitched, barely holding back a smirk.

As Mitsuya turned to leave, his gaze lifted slightly—only for his lavender eyes to lock onto them.

The trio froze.

Mitsuya’s eyes narrowed.

“Shit.”

“RUN!”

—

Mitsuya was pissed.

“Why were you guys following me?” he demanded, arms crossed, giving them all a look that could kill.

“We weren’t following you,” Baji lied, poorly.

“Then why were you hiding behind a vending machine?”

“…Coincidence?”

“Baji.”

“Okay, fine!” Baji threw his hands up. “We were curious!”

“Yeah,” Chifuyu muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You’ve been acting… different. We just… wanted to know who she was.”

Draken, ever the reasonable one, sighed. “We just didn’t expect you to keep it from us, Mitsuya.”

Mitsuya’s expression softened slightly at that, but he still looked mildly annoyed.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you guys…” he mumbled. “I just… didn’t want you messing it up.”

“Fair,” Baji muttered.

“Very fair,” Chifuyu echoed.

“So…” Baji’s grin slowly returned, eyes glinting with mischief. “When do we meet her?”

“No.” Mitsuya’s answer was immediate.

“C’monnnn,” Baji groaned.

“No.”

“But we’re like family,” Chifuyu added.

“No.”

“You’re gonna have to introduce us eventually,” Draken said calmly, but Mitsuya could see the tiniest hint of amusement behind his words.

“Eventually.” Mitsuya stressed, rubbing his temples. “Not now.”

“Fine,” Baji smirked. “But just so you know…”

Mitsuya raised a brow. “What?”

“We’re definitely watching your back now.”

“Literally.” Chifuyu snickered.

Mitsuya groaned, but despite his frustration, he couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at his lips.

Because as annoying as they were…

They really did have his back.

Even when they were absolute idiots.

[cowboysanddragons23]

While the Van der Linde gang is an outlaw gang, it operates more as a cult:

-Zero tolerance for criticism and questions: Dutch can't stand when someone questions or doubts him (ex. When John starts questioning him at Clemens Point, Dutch tells him that doubting means the end, aka weakness and forces him to say "Yes, Dutch." or when Uncle calls him out in a humorous manner, he threatens to kill him under the guise of following the joke).

-A belief that former followers are always wrong for leaving and there is never a legitimate reason to leave: Javier and Bill call John and Arthur traitors for abandoning them and Dutch, even though it was clear that Dutch was losing his sanity, he was going to get them all killed and both of them were trying to salvage what's left of the gang, a train of thought that lasts even after the gang disbanded.

-Lack of meaningful financial disclosure regarding money: Dutch constantly prattles about the fact that they need more money and at one point, he hid a box of money in one of the gang's hideouts.

-Abuse of members: While Dutch is not physically abusive of members, he is an abuser of the psychological variant (ex. When Molly raises legitimate concerns about how he is ignoring her and not paying her attention, he always dismisses her as delusional, even outright saying "I never met a woman with so many needs.")

-Absolute authoritarianism without accountability: If there is one thing that Dutch shows the most is his inability to take responsibility for his actions (ex. When he blames John for being the reason why the Saint Denis Bank heist went wrong, accusing him of being a rat, even though the main reason it went wrong was because Dutch was too reckless with his robberies to the trolley station and the boat, along with his kidnapping and killing of Angelo Bronte, the most powerful man of Saint Denis).

-Unreasonable fears about the outside world that involve evil conspiracies and persecution: Dutch fears civilization because it represents everything he hates and instills very irrational fears amongst them (ex. When Dutch tells John the law chases them because the gang represents everything they fear, yet ironically, after the gang disbands, Tilly has a happy life married to a lawyer and John has a normal life as a member of society).

-Cult of personality: The most obvious one. Dutch is seen like a father and a messiah amongst the gang (ex. In Red Dead Redemption, John tells Reyes that Dutch saved him, Bill and Javier.)

-Illegal and dangerous behaviour: The van der Linde are a gang of outlaws at first, but they ended up becoming the Wild West equivalent of domestic terrorists, with their attacks on the Cornwall Train, the Saint Denis Bank, a US Army Train....

-Charismatic leader: Dutch oozes charisma anytime he speaks, albeit of the superficial kind that has an iron hand on the people of his gang, which Kieran lampshades.

-Us VS Them mentality: Dutch enforced a very black and white view about their enemies, even outright admits so when he killed Bronte ("It is us or him.").

-Isolation and love-bombing: Once again, Molly is the biggest victim of this, with Dutch charming her into going with him and making her feel isolated on the gang, in order for her to depend on him and him alone.

-Time and energy: In the camp, you are expected to upgrade Dutch's tent first before upgrading the rest of the camp. And Dutch demands that money is put on the box, yet he himself never contributes to the box.

[sunseed-fandump]

Heyyyyyyy 😎 do you have more headcannons for the Gingerbrave gang 🙏 (plz)

More Gingerbrave & Friends Headcanons To Induce Brainrot

Gingerbrave is a really big sports fan! His favorite is baseball.

Before finding herself in the Cookie Kingdom, Chili Pepper Cookie was being pursued by bounty hunters. The accidental summon by the kids actually got her out of a tight spot.

The only reason Chili Pepper did not join Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie when they went to go find the Golden Cheese Kingdom was because she wasn't in the Cookie Kingdom at the time. She was following a lead for a decent heist, but after staking it out, it was a bust. Imagine her shock when she learned what she had missed!

She was also super pissed.

Sometimes when they're on the edge of sleep, Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie hear the distant whistle of a train.

When word got back to the others that Gingerbrave was going to the Crème Republic, Custard Cookie III seemed a little apprehensive...

Custard Cookie III rarely talks about the Republic and becomes a bit more reserved when Madeleine Cookie sings its praises.

Like wise, Gingerbrave, Strawberry, and Wizard have a silent rule not to talk about the Witch or where they came from.

Chili Pepper Cookie has no idea where any of these kids came from, but she knows what it looks like to run away from a bad experience. She doesn't pry, and she doesn't let anyone else pry either.

Strawberry Cookie has a playlist for each of her friends. She would NEVER share them though.

She also has a diary hidden somewhere in her room. If anybody found it, she thinks she'll explode from embarrassment.

[rdrclo]

How they would react to you kissing them for the first time 🦢🪻

This is just the boys, i will do a Part 2 with the girls at some point too though dw🙏

I also wrote this while falling asleep on the sofa and watching Richard Ayoade clips on youtube, apologies if its rubbish x

-

Arthur:

You and Arthur have had a close friendship for a long time. You've seen the highs and lows together—the campfires, the late-night talks, and the moments where you both just share a quiet understanding. Over time, your feelings for him have grown, but Arthur has always been a man of few words when it comes to matters of the heart. He's noticed the way you look at him sometimes, and there have been moments when he might have wondered if you felt something deeper than just friendship. Still, he never pushed it, always keeping things grounded in the reality of the life you both lead.

It's late one evening, after a long day of work and tension, and you're both sitting by the campfire. The others have gone to bed, leaving you two alone with the crackling fire and the night sky above. You're tired, but there's something about the way the firelight dances off Arthur's face, the softness in his eyes as he looks at you, that makes your heart race. You've thought about this moment for so long, but now that it's here, you're not sure if it's the right time. Still, you can't help yourself. You lean in, your heart pounding, and press your lips softly to his.

Arthur freezes at first, surprise flickering across his features. He wasn't expecting it, but after a second, his hand moves to your face, cupping it gently as he deepens the kiss. There's a quiet intensity to it, like he's been waiting for this moment in his own way, though he's not sure how to navigate it. When he pulls back, his usual gruffness comes back, though there's a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "You ain't gotta do that if you don't mean it." But his eyes say something different—he's been wanting this too, maybe longer than he'd care to admit. His breath is heavy, and the moment feels like it shifts something between the two of you, though neither of you know exactly what comes next.

-

Dutch:

Dutch has always been a bit of a mystery, even to those closest to him. As the leader of the gang, he's charismatic, unpredictable, and full of grand ideas, often pulling you into his schemes and dreams of a better future. You've worked with him for a while, and while you've respected him and his vision, there's been something more beneath the surface. You've seen the moments where Dutch's mask slips—when he's tired, when he's unsure—and in those moments, you've noticed the flicker of something softer between the two of you. He's not blind to your feelings, but he's too caught up in his own ambitions and the gang's survival to admit it—at least, not out loud.

It happens after a particularly harrowing heist. The gang is on edge, and Dutch has been putting up a front of unwavering confidence, as usual. You find him alone, pacing around the campfire, looking lost in thought. He's been distant lately, but tonight, his usual bravado seems thin, and you can see the fatigue in his eyes. With everything that's happened and the uncertainty of the future, you feel an undeniable pull toward him. Without thinking, you walk up to him, your fingers brushing against his, and you kiss him—quick, but full of all the emotions you've kept hidden for so long.

Dutch pulls back, eyes slightly widened with surprise. He's not used to someone breaking through his defenses like that. There's a long, charged pause as he stares at you, his usually smooth words faltering for the first time. "What... what's this, huh?"

He sounds more curious than angry, though, his gaze softening slightly. You can see the wariness in him, a worry that something like this might ruin the idealistic dream he's been building, but there's also something else—a quiet longing. Dutch's hand comes up, not to push you away, but to pull you closer. "If you think this'll change things, you're wrong," he murmurs, his voice thick with both uncertainty and something far deeper.

He kisses you again, leading it this time.

There's no immediate rush to make it more than it is, but it's clear this kiss has cracked the surface of a much more complicated relationship between you, one that neither of you knows how to navigate.

-

Micah:

With Micah, your dynamic has always been fiery and unpredictable. He's bold, reckless, and doesn't take kindly to being told what to do, but somehow, that hasn't stopped you from feeling drawn to him. At first, you brushed it off as just a physical attraction, but the more you spent time together—his sharp wit, his daring nature, and even the moments when he'd let down his guard around you—the more you realized there was more to him than he let on. You've caught him looking at you with that cocky smirk of his more than once, and though you've never outright admitted your feelings, there's always been an unspoken tension between the two of you. Micah, for his part, has definitely noticed you in ways that go beyond mere rivalry or friendship, but he's never been one to show vulnerability, keeping things playful and antagonistic instead.

It's late, and the camp is quiet, but you find yourself unable to sleep. You step outside the tent and catch a glimpse of Micah, sitting on a crate and nursing a bottle of whiskey. The night air is cool, but Micah doesn't seem to mind. You walk over to him, your footsteps barely making a sound on the dirt. The two of you start talking, as you often do, teasing each other back and forth, but this time, the usual banter feels different—more electric. Micah's looking at you with a challenge in his eyes, but there's something softer underneath it, something that pulls you in. You don't think, you just move. You close the distance and kiss him, quick and urgent.

At first, Micah doesn't know how to react. He freezes for a second, his lips barely touching yours, but then the surprise fades into that familiar smirk of his. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. It's rough, full of that wild energy he always carries with him. When you pull back, he laughs softly, his breath a little unsteady. "Well, well, look at that," he says, his voice low and teasing. "Guess you couldn't resist after all." His words are laced with both amusement and something more, and as he leans in for another kiss, it's clear he's not opposed to whatever this is—he just knows how to keep things unpredictable, even with something as simple as a kiss. Micah's always a little dangerous, and he's not going to let this moment be anything less than intense.

-

Hosea:

Hosea has always been the voice of reason within the gang, the calming influence that balances out everyone elses wild ideas and impulsive behaviour. You've worked alongside him for a while now, learning from his wisdom and respect for the world. Over time, you've come to admire his patience, his intelligence, and the kindness he shows to those who need it. You've always felt a deep connection to him—something steady and sincere. He's never been one to shy away from affection, but he's also never been particularly forward, and you're not sure if he's ever noticed your deeper feelings. But you've noticed the way his eyes linger on you sometimes, the warmth in his smile when you share a laugh or a quiet moment. He's aware of your affection, but he's never said anything, perhaps because he values your friendship too much to risk complicating things.

It's a quiet evening, the camp peaceful as the gang settles down for the night. Hosea is sitting near the fire, lost in thought. You sit beside him, comfortable in the silence, your thoughts wandering. After a long day of work, the weight of the world feels a little lighter with him here. You look at him—really look at him—and realize just how much you care for him. It feels like the right moment, and without thinking it through, you lean in and kiss him. Soft, tentative, but full of all the feelings you've kept inside for so long.

Hosea is initially startled, but the surprise quickly fades into something much gentler. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft and thoughtful. He's always been a man of few words, but there's a tenderness in his gaze that speaks volumes. "Well, I wasn't expecting that," he says quietly, his voice filled with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. There's no teasing, no distance—just the honest affection that's always been there between the two of you. He reaches up, his hand resting gently on your cheek, and he kisses you back, slow and sure. When he pulls away, he smiles, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "I suppose we've both been a little stubborn, huh?" His voice is low, but there's no hesitation in his touch or in the way he looks at you now. He might not have expected it, but Hosea is more than willing to let this new chapter unfold between the two of you, with the same quiet trust that has always defined your relationship.

-

Javier:

Javier has always been charming, he's full of fire and a deep sense of loyalty. You and he have shared many moments—whether it was over a drink in camp or in the heat of a mission, his warmth always seemed to draw you in. While his flirtations have always been playful, there's an undeniable depth to the way he looks at you, as if he's known all along that there's something more between you two. You've often caught him staring at you with a soft smile or noticed the way his gaze lingers just a little too long. Javier, ever the romantic, has always believed in love and connection, and while he might not have outright confessed, he's certainly aware of your growing attraction toward him.

It's one of those rare moments of calm after a job well done. The gang has settled into camp, and Javier is playing his guitar by the fire, his fingers dancing over the strings in a familiar, soothing rhythm. You sit nearby, lost in the music, letting the quiet of the night wrap around you. After a while, Javier stops playing and looks over at you with a smile, his eyes glinting in the firelight. There's a teasing quality to his expression, but something about the way he looks at you feels different tonight. Without saying a word, you get up and walk over to him, and before he can say anything, you kiss him—gentle, but full of the emotions you've been holding back.

Of course it's not long before Javier is pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he deepens the kiss. His lips are warm and tender, and there's a fire in the way he kisses you back, as though he's been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. When you finally pull away, he laughs softly, his breath a little ragged. "Well, now I know why you've been looking at me like that," he says, his voice low and teasing, but there's a tenderness in his smile that lets you know he's not just playing around. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and gazes at you with that unmistakable intensity, his eyes full of affection. "I've wanted this for a long time," he admits, his voice softer now, as he pulls you back in for another kiss, his hands tender but eager. Javier's not one to shy away from love, and now that it's here, he's more than ready to let things go further.

-

Sean:

Your relationship with Sean has always been full of laughter, banter, and playful jabs. He's the kind of man who never takes things too seriously—except when it really matters. You've spent countless nights drinking with him, teasing each other mercilessly, and occasionally bailing him out of trouble. He flirts with just about everyone, but with you, it always feels different—like there's something more beneath the jokes and exaggerated bravado. He's never outright said anything, but there have been moments when he's looked at you a little too long or toned down his usual antics just enough for you to notice. You've always wondered if he feels the same way, but with Sean, it's hard to tell if he's just playing or if he's actually hiding something deeper.

It's after a successful robbery, and the gang is in high spirits, drinking and celebrating back at camp. Sean, as usual, is in the center of it all, telling some ridiculous story and making everyone laugh. You're leaning against a tree, watching him, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. After a while, he catches your eye and saunters over, grinning like he knows something you don't. "Y'know," he says, nudging your shoulder, "if ya keep starin' at me like that, I might start thinkin' ya fancy me." His voice is teasing, but there's an underlying curiosity in his gaze.

Without thinking, without giving him time to make another joke, you grab the front of his shirt and kiss him. It's quick, but firm, and when you pull away, Sean is completely still, his mouth slightly open in shock.

For once in his life, Sean MacGuire is speechless. He blinks at you, as if trying to process what just happened, before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. "Well, shite," he breathes, his accent thicker than usual. "That was... unexpected." He lets out a breathless laugh before shaking his head. "Not that I'm complainin', mind ya."

Then, before you can say anything, he grabs your face and kisses you back, all heat and excitement, like he's been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, still grinning. "Y'know, if ya wanted a piece of ol' Sean, ya could've said so sooner," he teases, but his voice is softer now, more genuine. There's still laughter in his eyes, but also something else—something real. And just like that, whatever this thing between you and Sean is, it's no longer just a game.

-

Kieran:

Your relationship with Kieran started off rocky, much like everyone else's in the gang. He was the outsider, the O'Driscoll-turned-hostage, and at first, you didn't know what to make of him. But as time went on, you saw the real him—the nervous, soft-spoken man who just wanted a place to belong. Unlike the others, you were kind to him, offering him small gestures of friendship when he needed them most. He grew attached to you quickly, often seeking you out just to talk or sit near you.

If Kieran suspected you had feelings for him, he never let on—mostly because he was too caught up in his own insecurities. He always assumed he wasn't worth that kind of affection, that you were just being kind because that's the kind of person you were. But what he didn't see was how your heart ached whenever he looked at you with those soft, uncertain eyes.

It's a quiet night in camp, and you find Kieran brushing down his horse near the edge of the trees, murmuring softly to the animal. The sight makes you smile—there's something so genuine about him, so unguarded. You approach, and he jumps slightly when he notices you, but then relaxes when he realizes it's just you.

You talk for a while, about nothing and everything, until the conversation drifts into something more personal. He admits, in a quiet voice, that he still isn't sure if he really belongs here. That maybe, one day, the gang will decide he isn't worth keeping around. The sadness in his voice breaks your heart, and before you can stop yourself, you reach out, gently cupping his face. He blinks up at you, startled, his lips parting like he's about to say something—but you don't let him. Instead, you lean in and kiss him, soft and deliberate.

Kieran freezes completely. For a second, you think you might have made a mistake—that he's going to pull away or panic. But then, slowly, his hands come up, shaking slightly, as if he isn't sure he's allowed to touch you. He kisses you back hesitantly, unsure at first, but when he realizes this is real, that you want this just as much as he does, he melts into it.

When you finally pull away, he's breathless, staring at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Well... that's, uh... that's real nice." He's still flustered, still trying to wrap his head around what just happened, but there's a light in his eyes now—a happiness he never thought he'd have. And as he shyly reaches for your hand, holding onto it like he's afraid you'll disappear, you know this moment has changed everything.

-

Josiah:

Josiah Trelawny is a man of mystery—always appearing and disappearing, charming everyone in his path with his silver tongue and extravagant tales. From the moment you met him, he treated you with a particular fondness, always greeting you with a flourish and a playful remark. Unlike the others, he never hesitated to compliment you, to offer a sly smile. But beneath all his theatrics, you saw the real Trelawny—the man who loved the finer things, who longed for something beyond the outlaw life but was still tethered to it.

Your dynamic was built on flirtation and wit, a constant dance of teasing words and knowing glances. He absolutely knew you liked him—he could read people better than anyone, after all. But did he take it seriously? That was the real question.

It's a rare quiet evening, and you find yourself sitting with Josiah near the edge of camp, watching the sky as the sun starts to set. He's in one of his talkative moods, spinning some elaborate story about a time he outwitted the law in Saint Denis. You listen with amusement, but your mind is elsewhere—on the way he gestures with his hands, the way his voice lingers on certain words like a melody.

At some point, he catches you staring and smirks. "Now, now, my dear, you mustn't look at a man like that unless you intend to do something about it." His tone is teasing, but there's something more in his eyes—something knowing.

And so, you lean in and kiss him. It's slow, deliberate, a way of answering his challenge without a single word.

Josiah hums in surprise against your lips but doesn't hesitate to return the kiss, deepening it with a practiced ease. His hands move to your waist, pulling you in ever so slightly, like he's savoring the moment. When you pull back, he lets out a soft chuckle, tilting his head as he studies you with an amused gleam in his eyes.

"Well," he murmurs, his voice lower now, more intimate. "I must say, I do love a woman of action." He brushes a thumb against your cheek, his expression softer than usual, though still carrying that ever-present mischief. "But tell me... was this a fleeting impulse, or have I truly captured your heart?"

It's clear he's still playing his usual game, but there's something genuine beneath his words. He may be a man of theatrics, but he's also a man who understands emotion, who knows the difference between a passing fancy and something real. And as he watches you, waiting for your answer, you realize this isn't just another story for him—this moment, this kiss, is as real as anything he's ever had.

-

Charles:

Since you met, you and Charles have had frequent deep convictions. From the start, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you—one built on mutual respect and quiet companionship. While others filled the camp with noise and chaos, you found comfort in the rare moments of stillness you shared with him. Whether it was hunting together, tending to the horses, or simply sitting by the fire in silence, you always felt safe with Charles.

You weren't sure if he knew how you felt—Charles was observant, but he was also humble, never assuming too much. If he noticed your lingering glances or the way you always seemed to gravitate toward him, he never mentioned it. And yet, there was something in the way he looked at you sometimes, something soft and knowing, as if he was just waiting for you to make the first move.

It's late in the evening, and the two of you are returning from a long hunting trip, the quiet of the woods stretching between you. The air is crisp, the moon casting a soft glow over the trees, and for once, there's no urgency—no gang, no danger, just the two of you. As you walk side by side, you steal a glance at Charles, watching the way the light catches his features, the quiet ease in his expression.

Something about the moment feels perfect. Without thinking too much, you stop walking, reaching out to gently tug his arm. He turns to you, brow slightly furrowed in question, but before he can say anything, you kiss him—soft, hesitant, but full of meaning.

Charles stills, completely taken by surprise. For a moment, you worry you might have misread everything—but then, his hands come up to cradle your face, careful and deliberate, as he kisses you back. It's slow and steady, just like him, as if he's making sure you know exactly how much this means to him. When you finally pull away, he doesn't let go immediately, his fingers lingering on your skin as he searches your eyes.

"You sure about this?" he asks softly, his voice low but steady. Not because he doesn't want it—because he wants to be absolutely certain you do.

When you nod, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, warm and genuine. "Good," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. And just like that, the quiet understanding between you deepens, shifting into something undeniable—something real.

-

John:

You and John have always had an easy, natural friendship. He's rough around the edges, stubborn as hell, and constantly trying to prove himself, but you've always seen through the bravado to the man underneath. You tease him when he gets himself into trouble, patch him up when he takes a beating, and stand by him when he needs someone in his corner.

John, for all his recklessness, isn't exactly the most observant when it comes to emotions—especially his own. If he's noticed your feelings for him, he hasn't let on, too caught up in his own struggles to realize how much you care. But he's always been comfortable with you, always sought you out when he needed someone to talk to, even if he'd never admit it out loud.

It's late, and most of the camp has gone to sleep. You and John are sitting near the dying embers of the fire, the conversation drifting from old stories to the future—what you both want out of life, if there's anything waiting beyond this outlaw existence. There's something unusually quiet about him tonight, something thoughtful, and you find yourself watching him as he stares into the fire, lost in his own thoughts.

"You ever think about just... leaving?" he asks suddenly, glancing at you. "Starting over somewhere?"

You hesitate for only a second before answering. "Yeah. I do."

He nods slowly, as if turning over the idea in his mind, then looks at you properly. And for once, there's no smirk, no attempt at bravado—just John, open and uncertain. Something about the moment makes your heart ache, and before you can second-guess yourself, you lean in and kiss him. It's soft, careful, like you're afraid he'll pull away.

John tenses up at first, caught completely off guard. His brain seems to take a second to catch up with what's happening, but then, just as you start to pull away, he chases after you, pressing his lips back against yours in a way that's almost desperate—like he doesn't want to let the moment slip away. His hands come up, hesitantly at first, but then they settle against your waist, pulling you closer.

When you finally part, he blinks at you, looking equal parts shocked and breathless. "Well, uh... that was—" He rubs the back of his neck, stumbling over his words, before finally settling on a lopsided grin. "Guess I shoulda done that a long time ago."

He laughs, a little nervous but genuine, and shakes his head. "You're gonna have to be patient with me, y'know. I ain't exactly good at this sort of thing."

You smile, squeezing his hand. "Good thing I'm patient, then."

John lets out a breath, his smile turning softer. "Yeah... yeah, it is." And just like that, something between you shifts—something real, something neither of you can walk away from now.

-

Lenny:

You have always had an easy camaraderie with Lenny—quick-witted banter, shared laughs, and an unspoken trust that runs deeper than words. While others in the gang see Lenny as the sharp, ambitious young outlaw with a bright future, you see the man behind the gun—the one who dreams of something better, who carries the weight of his past with quiet resilience.

Lenny has always enjoyed your company, but whether he realizes your feelings for him is another story. He's smart, but when it comes to romance, he's a little oblivious—too focused on surviving and making something of himself to think that someone might look at him that way. You don't mind, though. You know him well enough to understand that sometimes, he just needs a push.

The two of you are sitting near the edge of camp, away from the noise of the others, passing a bottle of whiskey between you. It's a rare, peaceful moment, and Lenny is in a particularly reflective mood, talking, about how he wonders what his life would've been like if things had turned out different.

"You ever think about what you'd do if you weren't runnin' with this gang?" he asks, tilting his head to look at you.

"All the time," you admit, watching the way the firelight flickers against his face.

He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Damn shame, huh? Feels like we ain't got much of a choice."

You hesitate for only a second before reaching out, gently brushing your fingers against his. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean we can't have something good while we're here."

Lenny turns to you fully now, brow furrowing slightly as he studies your face. "What do you mean by—" But you don't let him finish. Instead, you lean in and kiss him, slow and deliberate, giving him the chance to pull away if he wants to.

For a moment, Lenny is completely still, like his brain is short-circuiting trying to process what's happening. Then, all at once, he exhales against your lips and kisses you back, a little clumsy at first, but warm and eager. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, as if he needs to make sure this is real, that you're really here, really kissing him.

When you finally pull away, he blinks at you, then lets out a breathless laugh. "Well, damn," he says, shaking his head. "I did not see that comin'."

There's a pause, then a slow, growing grin spreads across his face. "Not that I'm complainin', of course."

You chuckle, nudging his shoulder. "Good."

He looks at you for a long moment, his smile softening just a little. "Y'know," he says thoughtfully, "I think this might just be the best thing to happen to me in a long time."

And just like that, whatever was between you before is something more now—something real, something worth holding onto, even in a world as uncertain as this one.

[kiwi-on-ice]

Sugar daddy headcannons with Ashe, Hanzo, Sombra and Lifeweaver with fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics present in some, sex toys, just general filth

Notes: Listen, sometimes a girl just needs someone to pay them to be pretty, okay? Just some silly headcannons of the characters I think would spend the most money on their partners.

Ashe:

Oh baby, she’s the DEFINITION of a sugar daddy. Nothing on earth can stop her from spoiling you.

New clothes, new nails, new accessories, new car, new hairstyle…all bought without a second thought and a slap on your ass. I mean if you’re gonna be the special doll of the leader of the deadlock gang, you’re gonna have to look the part.

Especially if she’s planning on having you sit on her lap during a meeting. Wants your nails done and a new dress on you so everyone can look on in jealousy that you’re hers.

Yes that also extends to lingerie. She’s gonna buy you the most expensive types, with different colours, textures, everything. Typically as a present, an apology for when she goes away for one of her heists or a business meeting.

But it doesn’t stop there, she’ll get you anything just to keep you happy. Any nerdy interest you have, or food you’ve always wanted to try. She’s a generous woman with her money, but only for you.

And hey…maybe she does expect a little sugar in return, but it’s not like you’re complaining. When she’s deep in your cunt, strap pounding away as she groans, buying one that stimulates her clit the more she thrusts into you.

Definitely the type to coo at you “awe baby, you bein’ good for me? For your sugar daddy? Gonna give me some sugar so I keep spoilin’ your fine ass?” while you’re gasping for air at how good she’s railing you.

Yeah she ain’t calling herself a sugar mommy, no no she’s your sugar daddy, and you know your place.

Hanzo:

Yeah he’s definitely into being a sugar daddy for you, especially while he was still part of the shimada clan.

He’s a busy man, and a busy man needs some stress relief. So having a pretty thing like you certainly helps those urges after a shitty day.

Kinda nonchalant about spoiling you, tossing you a wad of cash and demanding you to get something pretty to wear tonight, or to get your nails redone after one chipped off.

He doesn’t spend a lot of money, so he might as well spend it on you, if you’re good that is. Stay well behaved and don’t mouth off and you’ll get rewarded.

Always has a catch though. If he pays to get your nails done, he always wants a demonstration that night of how they look. Which almost always involves your pretty fingers wrapped around his dick, while he gets out a gruff “they look nice angel” as you pump him.

Or if he buys you a new car, so he tests how good you can drive it by fingering you while you drive around some backroads. After all, if he’s gonna buy you a pretty car, gotta make sure you won’t crash it and wreck it, right?

But hey if your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers means you have to stop the car, he can think of another way of proving you deserve the vehicle, which is how you’ll find yourself bent over the seats with his cock in your mouth.

The man is always buying you lingerie, because those are gonna be your permanent underwear now. Every time you undress, he expects to see one of the pretty sets he got you, so he can peel them off himself. Sometimes if you go to a formal event, his hand may go wandering up your dress to feel the material of your panties to make sure.

Definitely isn’t into being called a sugar daddy though (father issues and all that), so best stick to sir.

Sombra:

Another serial lingerie buyer. Loves hacking into your online wish lists to get you things, but lingerie is her fav. Yes she will be buying purple sets the same colour as her hair.

Also gonna buy you bodysuits too, lace ones with matching stockings and garters; all of it. She’ll leave it in a nicely packaged box on your bed (and mostly likely watch your reaction through the cameras she had you install in your house)

She’ll make you send her pictures and videos of you in the clothes she buys, will save it to her phone’s folder titled ‘my investment💜’. If she’s feeling in a particular mood, she’ll text you instructions on what she wants you do to in the videos, like how to touch yourself or what to say.

But she’s not shy about buying you anything that you want, or more importantly anything she thinks you need. This includes the best electronics on the market, phones, laptops, headphones, tablets, anything. All encrypted of course, the only person who should be able to hack into your stuff is her.

She might tease you by calling herself your sugar mommy, but not with a serious tone. She knows that you’re more to her than just a sugar baby. And she knows that it’s not just her money that keeps you around, you’re addicted to her.

And she proves it, by having you sit in the apartment she pays for, in your pretty purple lingerie she got you, bouncing up and down on a dildo she sent you, in front of your new phone as she watches from her computer set-up, a smirk on her face at how obedient you are. And hey, if her fingers find themselves on her aching clit, who’s gonna stop her?

Lifeweaver:

Nghhhhhh I’m going feral. You know this man has money, if his family's wealth is anything to go by. And he’s gonna be spoiling you to death.

Honestly it turns him on to buy you the finest things in life, especially if you aren’t used to such luxuries. Just watching your eyes light up at what he’s bought you, at what he knows you deserve, has his dick rock hard.

He’ll most likely get you jewellery the most, the finest he can of course. And he obviously takes note of your preferences; if you only wear silver, the silver it shall be, or if you only wear gold, that’s what you’ll have on your neck and fingers and ears.

If it’s a necklace he’s bought you, he’ll insist on putting it on for you. Securing it around your neck, he’ll lean in to press kisses along the back of you neck and shoulder, worshiping you. If he’s bought you a ring, he’ll kiss from your knuckle up your arm, spurred on by your giggles.

Nothing is too much for you, even if you’re too shy to ask for what you want. If he sees your eyes lingering on a particular bag or necklace or outfit, he’ll make a note to get it for you later.

Will insist you try everything on for him that night too, your pretty dresses and tops and skirts and leggings. Will have you do a twirl so his eyes can roam your entire form, before giving you the sweetest, most indulgent compliments.

And then you’ll probably find yourself sat on his plush bed in front of the mirror, as he’s on his knees eating you out like a man starved. Murmuring against mouthfuls of your cunt to look at how pretty you are in the mirror. Instructing you to repeat it, to tell him that you deserve the best things and that you’re the prettiest girl in the world as you gush on his tongue.

Definitely does not like the term sugar daddy, as it implies he’s only buying you things with the expectation of sex. But I mean, if you really want to call him daddy, he’d do anything to make you feel good.

[swanimagines]

MASKS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: You are incredibly beautiful but you have always been insecure of your own face, so you wear a mask. But in the middle of doing a heist, the mask breaks.

Ever since childhood, you hadn't liked what you saw in the mirror. Your nose was too big. Or too small. Your lips were too thin. Or then they looked like a bee had just stung them. Your eye color was bland. You just bashed yourself in front of the mirror every morning as you had brushed your teeth, and other kids at your neighborhood didn't really help with that - kids could be cruel if they were given a reason for it.

So, that day you moved into Ketterdam, you made yourself a mask before anyone got to know you. A beautiful white mask made of porcelain, with cat ears and a red stripe going over your eye. It fit perfectly around your face, hiding any imperfections behind its perfect curves.

You joined the Dregs, a gang ran by a young man who was barely 18. Kaz Brekker wasn't interested about your mask, he only wanted to know how you could fight and you were in. It didn't take long after that before you joined the heists with him and the other five people who called themselves "Crows". You quickly had made friends with them, spending evenings with them and finally feeling like you had a family again.

Kaz ended up growing something more than just your boss. It took a while, but he let his walls down with you, took a faint hold of your hand when you were worried about your wounded friend and even tried to comfort you, although he wasn't a master in it. In turn, you had showed him your face, let yourself be vulnerable too. He had looked at you with so much love you thought it's uncharacteristic of him, but at the same time you felt how your cheeks grew hot as you felt cared about for the first time in years.

Jesper had seen your face too, but it was by accident. He had barged in to Kaz's room because Wylan was missing and he was scared out of his mind and walked straight to the bedroom, just in time to see you sit up and your eyes met his. He froze for a moment before you ducked your head and took your mask, and Jesper knew better than to question it. He told you that Wylan is missing and you sprang into action immediately, dressing up and hurrying out of the office.

Turned out Wylan had been fetching Jesper a cake because the sharpshooter's birthday was the next day. Thank the Saints you found him first, so the surprise wouldn't be ruined.

A few months from that, and you were on another heist. Another merchant in the city, who has bragged about his fortunes a little too enthusiastically. In Ketterdam, you had to remember that someone was always listening, and this time that someone was Inej. A week from that, and you were at the manor of that merchant.

Kaz had ordered you and Jesper to keep watch at the hallway as he worked on the hidden safe around the corner - the merchant was smarter than he looked, he had put a safe inside a safe, and hid that behind a large and incredibly heavy bookcase. The blueprints were done wrong as a distraction, and Kaz had cursed himself over not realising it. So it had taken a while to actually get on the safe.

Footsteps were heard from the right, and Jesper's hand immediately went to his other gun. A few guards bickered about something, and Kaz halted his movements upon hearing that too. Jesper met his eyes, and he nodded towards the guards. Jesper started making his way towards them and you glanced at Kaz who started working on the safe again.

You hadn't known what was happening before you already felt a blade on your throat.

"Don't move, bitch," said a voice behind you. His breath had a bitter scent of garlic and you scrunched your nose at it.

The man with the knife pressed hard enough to cut your skin but didn't draw blood yet. A thought of him killing you and going after Kaz next crossed your mind, an d that thought made your heart start racing faster and adrenaline kicking in.

You knew it was stupid. Irresponsible. You should wait for Kaz to deal with it, he by no doubt was already thinking what to do to save you. But you weren't a lady in distress, you refused to be.

So you stomped on his foot with all your might and when he grunted, you elbowed his jaw. The knife made a scratch on your face and you heard something shattering - probably a vase on the drawer next to you. You started giving punches to the brute until he laid on the ground unconscious, and then turned back around to see all your friends gathered there to see what's the noise about. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing they were all alright and walked up to them as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't pay attention to it at first, but then you noticed that they were staring at you.

"What?" you asked, frowning.

"Darling, your mask..." Kaz mumbled, looking over at the shattered piece of art you had been wearing for the past half a decade.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

"Oh," you whispered and suddenly felt self-conscious as you turned away from your friends. Your cheeks burned like hellfire, even though nobody was saying anything about how you looked ugly underneath this disguise. Though, they had probably stared because they didn't recognize you at first, not because of how you looked. But it still felt like the latter option, and the echoes of what the kids in your neighborhood had been saying to you when you were growing up.

"Okay, we got what we came here for, escaping through the third back door." Kaz interrupted the moment and everyone started moving out, leaving Kaz and you standing there to come as last ones.

You walked in silence side by side with Kaz, looking behind the shattered mask - its shards glinting in the moonlight as if to wave its goodbye to you. You felt like a part of you had just been ripped away, and you couldn't help but feel tears in your eyes. The whole thing happened so fast, that none of it registered until that point. Then it was too late.

You could feel the slight night breeze caressing through your face once you were outside in front of the carriage, something you hadn't experienced in years. It felt so foreign now - but somehow also comforting.

You stood there for a moment before Nina spoke.

"Hey, we don't care how you look. We still love you the same."

You closed your eyes against the sudden wetness on your cheek and nodded, sniffling. "I know."

"Hey," Jesper said. He walked up next to you and handed you a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Thanks," you sniffed and wiped at your tears.

Jesper cleared his throat. "It's weird to see you without that mask. You're not ugly, you know. Not really."

You looked down at the cloth in your hands and gave a watery laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've always been ugly."

"No, you aren't. This is what beauty feels like. This is what real beauty would be like."

"Oh," you said softly, biting back more tears.

He glanced at Kaz who was looking at you with something looking like concern. "Kaz is lucky to have you, you know."

You couldn't help but smile a little at that, and everyone started to board the carriage, Jesper being the driver and standing beside the door.

Jesper smirked as he helped you board the carriage, "I know what we just said but just a suggestion, love; you should consider being a model, we could pull out pretty neat heists if you went on a modeling show with rich pigs and turned over their pockets."

You couldn't help but smile at the suggestion - maybe you could finally get rid of the feeling of insecurity you had felt since you were a child.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[hihomeghere]

Little Things | Arthur Morgan / F!Reader

Word Count : 2k Warnings/tags : Slight somnophilia (reader wakes up), dubious consent, reader gave consent at an earlier time, unprotected piv, cursing, creampie, undressing Summary : Arthur returns from a successful job, and wants nothing more than to bury himself in you

Arthur couldn’t help but enjoy the little things in life. With the life he had, he didn’t have much to enjoy. Coyotes yipping across the plains, Violet snowdrop growing along the side of the trail. The serenity of an early morning sunrise, when the golden rays peak above the horizon, slowly catching everything aflame with its bright light.

On the other side of the coin, he was equally taken by the gentleness of the night sky. Stars speckled across the black expanse like they were left by a flicked paintbrush.

Riding home had also become one of his most treasured times. The anticipation of seeing you again, after being on a job for who knows how long. It didn’t matter if it was only a couple hours or a couple days. The thought of returning to you always sent a pleasurable tingle up his spine, and butterflies fluttering in his gut. Maybe it was because he knew how much you enjoyed the little things as well. How you’d greet him once he returned to whatever camp they currently resided in. Open armed and more likely than not, spread legs. To say it was always a warm welcome would not be doing you any justice.

You were so eager, pliant as he towered over you. Your hands, so soft and gentle as they removed his hat. Then moving to his suspenders, sliding them off his shoulders. His shirt was next, pushing the buttons through the eyelets, before it too was pulled off his body. The gun belt followed, set carefully off to the side, he worked on slipping out of his boots as you did this. The way you two moved together was like a well oiled machine. There was no need for words between the two of you. You knew each other so intimately, inside and out. But working together for years will do that, even if you had mainly given up on pulling heists. You were more than content to stay near camp, or whatever town was closest.

Although Arthur had to admit he missed when it would just be the two of you on a job. The thrill of a job well done flowing through your veins, sleeping naked under the stars, not having to worry about staying quiet.

But he didn’t blame you for not wanting that part of the life anymore. After a too close call which had left you nearly bleeding out as he rode as fast as he could back to camp, you had all but retired. Dutch would never have allowed a full retirement.

Arthur could see the line of trees leading to Shady Bell, that familiar tug in his stomach as he spurred his horse forward. If he had any dignity left he would have felt like a fool with how big of a smile split his face as he hitched his mare. Slipping her a sugar cube for a job well done before heading towards the house.

The fire was slowly dying, hot embers sizzling out. The only other noise was the snores of the other gang members. He made his way into the house, slowly shutting the door behind him. He tried his hardest to creep quickly and quietly up the stairs to your shared room. The door hinge whined as he pushed it open, wincing slightly as he shut it behind him.

There you were. Laid out in the bed, fast asleep. Your hair spread out against the pillow like a halo. Your chemise riding up your thigh, showing off a delicious amount of skin.

By now, Arthur was painfully hard, palming himself through his pants as he stepped closer. He toed off his boots, setting his hat down on a table nearby. He would have much rathered you undressing him, but he would have to settle for doing it himself. He shoved his suspenders off before his gun belt fell to the floor with a thud.

You stirred slightly, your brows pinched in an adorable expression. Obviously annoyed by the noise disturbing your peaceful slumber. He felt a twinge of guilt, he shouldn’t disturb you. It wasn’t often that you were actually at peace, only when you were asleep. You had been sleeping deeper ever since the gang settled here. The walls of Shady Bell offered you and its inhabitants more security than the canvas of a tent.

But you were so pretty, so soft and all his. You wanted this, his cock twitched at the memory. You had told him that if he ever returned when you were asleep, to take what he needed. He had never done it yet, something about it made him feel wrong, dirty. He would never do anything to take advantage of your trust or to harm you.

Your leg slid up further on the bed. Almost like you were subconsciously spreading your legs for him. His eyes went straight to your core, his knees almost buckling at the sight of your wet cunt. No bloomers. If that wasn’t a silent invitation he didn’t know what was.

He moved quickly, stumbling out of his pants. He was surprised he hadn’t ripped the buttons off his shirt with how hard he had janked them through the eyelets.

He was painfully hard, standing over you with his cock in his hand, red and leaking precum. You let out a soft sigh, your lips parting slightly. Any resolve that he had been holding onto was long gone. He knelt down on the bed, crawling towards you. His calloused hands moving up your calf and thigh, lifting the bottom of your chemise over your stomach. He slid his hands back down your belly to your core, running his finger through your folds before settling on your clit. He didn’t necessarily want to wake you, and if he did, he wanted you to awake to pure pleasure. He gave the slightest bit of pressure with his thumb, gently circling it. A small huff leaving your lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your pussy, unable to decide which one he wanted to watch more. He slipped one finger inside your heat, his lips quirked up as he watched your brows pinch together. He curled his index finger, rubbing up against your walls. A small moan left your lips, his cock twitched against his belly. He let out a small groan pressing his hips down onto the sheets, looking for any source of stimulation he could find. Not wanting to touch himself just yet, wanting to drag out your and his pleasure as long as possible.

He added another finger, licking his lips as he inched closer to you. If only he could move you to your back and bury his face into your cunt. But right now he needed you. He started to scissor his fingers inside you, making sure you were stretched out enough for him. Although with how wet you were and the soft sounds of pleasure leaving your lips, he was sure you were ready.

He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, smirking as you frowned, moving your hips up to try and follow his hand. “Give me a second darlin’.” He whispered, coating his dick with your slick. Pumping himself a couple times before spreading your legs a bit wider so he could fit between your legs. He bit his lip as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance, trying to stifle the groan working through his chest. Slowly he pushed in, your wet warm heat enveloping him.

Arthur was sure this was the closest to the pearly gates he’d ever get. His eyes squeezed tight as it took him everything not to blow his load right then and there.

“Arthur?” You gasped, a soft noise that had him squeezing your hips with a vice like grip.

“It’s me, sweetheart.” He said, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned over you. Sheathing himself inside you completely, his pelvis pressed against your ass.

“Arthur.” You preened, pushing back against him.

“Missed ya, girl.” He huffed, withdrawing his cock before thrusting back inside you. You let out a cry as his cock pressed up against that delicious spot.

“Ah-“ Arthur reached forward, covering your mouth with his hand to quiet your moan.

“Hush,” He groaned, leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck. You were trembling under him. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he snapped his hips into yours. “Can ya be a good girl and stay quiet?”

You nodded, whimpering against his palm. The smell of gunpowder and leather filling your senses, only heightening your pleasure. You bit your lip as he moved his hand lower, gently applying pressure to your neck. You whimpered as your body buzzed with pleasure, his cock rubbing up against your silken walls.

“Yeah, my good girl.” You could practically feel the way his chest puffed up with pride. You were dangerously close to the edge.

“I’m gonna-“ You whined, fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Gonna cum?” He smirked, his hot breath fanning against your shoulder. “Go ahead darlin’.”

Stars danced behind your eyes as you gushed around his cock. Your whole body trembling as your orgasm washed over you in waves. “F-fuck!” You hissed, biting down on your lip as you tried to keep quiet.

Arthur’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle as he looked down at you. Before it was replaced with a groan as you clenched down on him.

“Shit- I ain’t,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “ain’t gonna last long if ya keep squeezin’ me like that.” His breath fanning across your cheek. You mewled pathetically, unable to stop the whine that left your lips.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you up onto your knees. You gasped at the sudden change in position. Your breath being thrusted out of your lungs as he pounded into you. The rickety bed frame whining under the movement of your two bodies. His large hands dug into your hips, bruises would no doubt be forming in their place by tomorrow morning.

“Take it-“ He huffed, sweat dotting his brow as he bit down on his lip. “That’s right- fucking take it.” He laid his hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress. He can feel your pussy fluttering around him, making him groan again. “Yeah, ya close girl?”

“Uh huh!” Your cry muffled by the blankets.

“Go on- go on and soak my cock.” He pants, his hips stuttering as he nears his own release, “Ya go and I’m goin’ with ya.” He warns, slamming his hips into yours over and over.

You fall over the edge, not worried about staying quiet anymore. Tears blur your vision as you tremble under him. Your whole body went limp as you clenched down around him.

His head fell forward, pressing his forehead against your back as his hips stuttered. Rocking into you one, two, three more times before he’s gone. Groaning out your name as his cock pulses inside you, his hips giving tiny jerks as he empties into you.

You let out a soft sigh, turning your head to look up at him. Pride swelling in your chest as you take in his disheveled appearance. His honey brown hair, like a curtain in front of his eyes. He shudders as he withdraws his hips, his release slowly dripping out of your puffy cunt.

You roll over onto your back, reaching up to brush his hair back. He takes in a deep breath, lazily smiling down at you.

“Job go well?” You asked softly, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Very well.” He chuckles laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around your waist as he lays his head against your breast. Listening to the rapid beat of your heart.

“Good.” You smiled, running your fingers through his locks, “Good night honey.” You said kissing the top of his head before closing your eyes.

“Night darlin’.” He said softly, the sound of your thumping heart the perfect lullaby.