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sugugasm · 3 months

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. ༉‧₊ 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

✧ synopsis : after almost a decade of a healthy marriage, four kids, and a stressful bakery opening, you and toji have learned to take your alone time very seriously.

✧ tags : firefighter! toji + baker! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, blk fem reader ofc, mentions of alcohol, public sex ?? in the car, mentions of vaginal penetration, cowgirl, pet names like bby, love, pretty, mama bc yall already know etc, excuse any errors. i wrote this in a few different povs at first so — 𝟓.𝟖𝐊 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smiles as he pulls into his driveway, the familiar cacophony of squeals and thuds greeting him before he’d even opened the door - the kiddos must’ve been riding the after dinner sugar high. cheerfully shaking his head, he braced himself for the chaos and noise that awaited inside your now shared, cozy little place the two of you have grown to call home.

it’d been nearly six years since that fateful summer when you’d quite literally swept into his life like a swirl of sunshine and baked goods. six years of dizzying ups and downs, laughter and tears, the most intense love he’d ever known to face. sometimes it still didn’t feel real, even now - this life you’d built from the spark of simple flirting over sweets n’ crème brulee.

so much had happened in that span of adventures : you, graduating at the top of your culinary class, your desserts and pastries that you’d stressed so hard about being the toast of the competition circuit. toji retiring as lieutenant of the fire department after over a decade of service, not daring to miss out on any more milestones as the two of you started your family. not to mention the whirlwind of wedding plans, and then the magical day itself where you vowed forever to each other in front of family and friends.

then the true blessings had come along, one right after the other - megumi, who was still adjusting to the new family dynamic of it all, but was yet so proud of his father. little rascally rose, a firecracker just like her mama with the same bright eyes and full curls. goofy, tender-hearted kenji who practically worshipped his big brother and sister, wanting nothing more than to mimic their every move and be just like his papa. and finally malachai, the happy surprise baby who seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents’ feisty personalities.

toji wouldn’t trade this beautiful chaos for anything in the world. but he’d be lying if he said the constant juggling act of family life wasn’t difficult - for the both of you. it was rare for you guys to get a real moment alone together, just the two of you. your intimacy had cooled down amidst all the lovely distractions, as had the simple art of conversation beyond trading information about grocery lists and pediatrician appointments.

date nights had become a long forgotten luxury, almost seemingly impossible to coordinate when your trusted babysitters were your siblings with families of their own. but tonight, uncle satoru had stepped up and volunteered his services, giving toji and you a well overdue opportunity to reconnect.

toji unbuckles his seatbelt and exited the truck, tamping down a flutter of nerves. what if the easy rhythm and sizzling chemistry you’d once shared was gone for good? a victim of sleep deprivation and chicken nugget overdoses? what if it was too late to rekindle that spark?

pushing open the front door, he was immediately swamped by a tiny army of squirming, chattering bodies. “papa, papa, papa!” rose seized his hand and tugged insistently. “you gotta’ see the cool fort we built! kenji made it super big this time!”

“we’ll show ya, dad!” kenji crowed, already streaking towards the living room, malachai hot on his heels with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“hold up there, you lil’ tornados,” toji called in vain, being unceremoniously dragged by his giggling daughter into the chaos. every available pillow, cushion, and blanket had been appropriated to create an elaborate tent city surrounded by toys and stuffed animals . . and gojo sat smack in the middle of it all, long legs splayed out as he played some kind of intricate make believe game with the two boys.

“baby, you’re home!” you swept in from the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping your messy bun and face flushed from exertion. you were wearing a cute pink sundress that struck a nostalgic chord in toji’s memory - you’ve had it for years, one of his favorite things to slowly peel off of your shoulders after a night out to be exact. “thank goodness. i was startin’ to think i’d have to call backup.”

you stand on your tippy toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, and just like that, his weariness evaporated as if by magic. your familiar floral scent, your soft warmth, the kids’ laughter surrounding him - this moment of serenipity in the midst of routinely chaos bringing a lump to his throat.

“not a chance,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your waist. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.” downy goosebumps erupted down your arms at his words, flustering deeply. awe, his voice still got you going after all this time. good to know. very good to know. “y’all holdin’ down the fort?”

“y’know how it is,” you reply with a gentle squeeze of his hand, watching in fond exasperation as rose ordered poor gojo to lie down so kenji could perform his ‘very important surgery.’ “satoru took his role a lil’ too seriously this time and got lost in their games.”

you stood together watching for a few moments, the kids pausing just long enough to acknowledge toji’s presence again before diving back into their shenanigans. it was all so beautifully vibrant and alive, the little people you created and who brought such joy, such richness and meaning to your lives. but still . . . toji felt the undeniable tug of wanting you all to himself. just for a few hours at least. he wanted to bask in your undivided attention. to remember what it felt like to not share you with anyone else.

you must have picked up on his restlessness, your eyelids drifting shut as he stroked the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “soon as we get back, m’ cravin’ some peace n’ quiet. maybe a hot soak in the tub after all this madness.” your tone was light and casual, but the smoldering undertone was unmistakable.

toji found himself swallowing reflexively as his skin prickled with awakening interest. “is that a promise, mama?” he murmured gruffly, not even trying to hide the roughness in his voice.

you peeked up at him through long lashes, a smile curving on your lips. “mm . . . you should know this by now. m’ a girl who keeps her promises.” burying any further suggestive replies, you cleared your throat and turned to gojo, who’d been buried under a pile of stuffed teddy bears. “alright babies, mama n’ daddy gotta’ go for a bit. gumi’s at a friend’s place, and there’s dinner in the fridge if you guys get hungry — so pretty please be good for your uncle gojo, y’hear?”

a chorus of whines follow after your words, but the kids were quickly distracted again by the siren song of more roughhousing. rose blew toji an exaggerated kiss while kenji and malachai paid both of you absolutely no mind whatsoever, already wrestling in a tangle of small limbs. gojo simply shot you a weary thumbs up from beneath his plush prison, glasses askew and hair wild as toji fought the urge to chuckle, “have fun you two. keep me posted, and please for the love of god - quit knockin’ her up, toji. i’m being attacked by three little rascals and it’s just absolutely absurd,” he jokes.

“i don’t make promises i can’t keep, satoru.”

you fished your purse and sweater from the hall closet while toji hovered close, drinking in every detail of you. suddenly he was struck by the profound urge to pull you in close and just breathe nothing but you, to lose himself in the familiar softness and strength of your embrace. but he restrained himself with an effort. all too soon they’d be able to indulge that craving for closeness, he reminded himself as you linked your fingers through his.

with a final wave to the kids and fond shake of his head at gojo’s predicament, toji guided you to the car. the simple act of opening your door and helping you in was enough to set his pulse racing, anticipation crackling in the air as your fingers tangled briefly together. electric from even the most innocent of contact.

by the time he’d slid behind the wheel, he felt ten years younger, energized by the promise of this evening alone with the woman he loved. as toji pulled out of the driveway, you were already reaching for the radio to cue up one of your old playlists, humming along contentedly as warm twilight spilled through the windows. toji cuts you an affectionate glance and reaches over to squeeze your knee - a brief, cherished moment before the magic began.

he couldn’t wait to see where it all would lead.

“so where we headed, hot stuff?” you asked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “hopefully somewhere without a soft play area and a kids meal if y’know what i mean.”

toji snorted, distracted for a second by the way the skirt of her sundress rode up her thighs as she shifted in the passenger seat. “nah, no funzones tonight. but i can think of a few things i’d like to play with though.”

his suggestive drawl was rewarded with a scandalized laugh and playful swat to his shoulder. “you’re so gross, babe.” your eyes twinkle with amusement before flickering to the darkening sky outside. “seriously though . . . surprise me? i wanna’ be wooed. s’ been too long since you’ve had the chance to take me out. we used to do it all the time.”

kissing away the pout on your lips and squeezing your knee again, toji grinned crookedly. “i know, baby. tonight will be one to remember - i swear.”

true to his word, he bypassed all the usual dining spots they frequented as a family, instead guiding you to a cozy trattoria tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street you didn’t even know existed. he pulled up in front and turned to gauge your reaction, smile widening at the look of surprise and delight on your lovely face.

“bambolino’s?” you exclaimed, craning your neck to peer through the warmly lit windows. “toji, this place is famous! i swear geto raves about their stuffed shells every time he comes over . . like they’re life changing or something!”

“nothin’s better than your cookin’ so we’ll see. m’ a tough crowd to please.” chuckling, he cut the engine and climbed out to open your door, and you hopped out with a charming little shimmy of your hips, curls bouncing around your shoulders now. toji quite literally had to bite back a groan as images of sweeping you up onto the hood and hiking that dress up around your waist flooded his mind unbidden.

jesus, dude. maybe he felt a little too hot n’ bothered. this was a night to reconnect emotionally, not just physically. ‘keep it together, man,’ he mumbles to himself.

threading your arm through his, you allowed him to lead you to the heavy oak door. “well well, aren’t you just the sweetest.”

toji leaned over to murmur in her ear, voice low and intimate. “like i said . . . a night to remember. and m’ just gettin’ started, lovely.” he felt you shiver and had to quickly resist the urge to press an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind you ear — the spot he knew drove you crazy. but he reined himself in, offering you his arm instead. you slanted him an arch look from beneath your lashes as you took his elbow, well aware of the charged energy in the room. “you’re such smooth talker,” you teased. “but m’ callin’ you out - you gotta’ keep deliverin’ now.”

the inside of the restaurant was every bit as quaint and charming as the exterior, all warm golden lighting and rustic decor like something plucked from a cozy little italian village. your table of choice nestled in a babylon themed area, made for discreet intimacy. along with linen napkins and sparkling wine already waiting along with a single garden rose in a low vase.

as toji held out your chair for you, you leaned up to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “this lovely, t,” you murmured, fingers trailing over the pristine white tablecloth. “really, baby . . . jus’ lovely.”

he hummed, momentarily distracted by the alluring fragrance of your signature perfume mixed with the lingering scent of baked goodies in your hair from a hectic day’s work at the bakery. “you deserve it,” he rumbled once he’d found his voice again. “. . . i know how crazy swamped you been with the kids and workin’ on side projects for the shop. tonight is strictly about you, mama. no responsibilities, no worries. just you n’ me enjoyin’ each other. like we used to do.”

your smile softened at the corners as you regarded him with open adoration. “when did all your charm come back?” you teased gently, though . . that tone was genuine. “feels like we haven’t had a moment alone in ages. hard to remember the last time you wooed me like this.”

“tonight’s special. couldn’t let another moment go by without remindin’ you exactly why you chose to put up with me.”

your expression turned impish once more. “coulda’ fooled me - i seem to recall it was you who was pushin’ lil’ ol’ me away, no?”

he formed his features into his best look of faux offense, tone full of lofty dignity. “can a man not get nervous anymore? you were stunning i was terrified — as megumi would say, your aura was just . . .” beneath the table, you could start to feel him sliding his foot forward to glide his ankle over yours, naughtiness giving him away even before your muffled squeak of surprise. toji just grinned that stupid grin at you innocently, as though not at all aware of the toe he was trailing up the delicate skin of your inner calf, “out of this world, sweetheart.”

you had to clear your throat before replying, voice husky with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “oh shut up. jus’ admit you loved me before you even knew it yet.” but despite the humor, you lashes had lowered invitingly as you let your calves part further, granting him unrestricted access.

his gaze snagged on the glimpse of your skin revealed as his foot inched higher and higher to skim the sensitive crease behind your knee. already, his blood was pounding with renewed interest, awakened by the heady combination of your pheromones and just being within your space. hmph. it was like suddenly the intimate, flickering candles and red wine he'd scoffed at earlier as a cheesy cliche seemed perfectly fitting, matching the frisson of sexual heat enkindling within him.

you spent the first part of dinner treading familiar ground - teasing n’ flirting, punctuated by conversations and easy silences that felt almost novel in your peacefulness these days. there was an ease to it, a bond between you both that couldn’t be so easily broken by the stress of soccer practices, ballet recitals or piles of laundry.

an intimacy beyond the aspects of physical that toji clung to . . . even as his vixen urges stirred elsewhere.

once appetizers had been polished off and the main courses brought out, toji leaned back in his chair and leveled you with a heavy lidded stare. slowly, he scooped up his cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet. your eyebrows rose in polite question even as a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

“y’know . .” toji began, voice pitched low and rough like buttered rum. “you look absolutely stunning tonight, yn. i couldn’t be more proud of the woman you are n’ i jus’ uh . .” he pauses for a moment. wow, even after six years you still found a way to steal the words right out of his mouth, “i jus’ love you — you’re the mother of my children, my heart, my everyth - ”

your breath caught audibly, lashes fluttering as you struggled not to squirm under the potent weight of his stare. still, you rallied with a sassy arch of one brow. “if we weren’t already married, i’d say you were attempting at proposing to me right now, toji.”

“aye, m’ tryin’ t’be sentimental here, lady,” toji chuckled, the sound impossibly intimate amidst the hushed ambiance of the cozy trattoria. reaching across the table, he traced a feather-light path along your forearm with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the fine hairs there rise in gooseflesh, “y’know i’d marry you a thousand times over.”

the sleek black car purred through the dim streets, a monotonous swish of the windshield wipers being the only sound breaking the heavy silence within. in the passenger seat, you gazed out the rain streaked window, city lights smearing across your face in streaks of red and gold and neon blue. the night had been magical - champagne and oysters at bambolino’s, after that there was slow dancing cheek to cheek to smoky jazz at the club down the street, and last but not least — chocolate lava cake shared and savored at the tiny candle lit dessert boutique. all the romance and luxury toji knew his beautiful wife deserved.

but now, cocooned together in the warm confines of the car, the mood had shifted into something . . . more carnal. not sure how it couldn’t have become carnal with toji’s eyes constantly flicking away from the road to steal glimpses of you. in the dim glow of the dash, he drank in the way your clingy pink dress embraced every mouthwatering curve you had, the deep v neckline offering a tantalizing view of your collarbones. and oh, the silky chestnut curls tumbled over your bare shoulders, toji’s fingers itched to suken into them, to pull her close and breathe in the familiar sweet vanilla of her shampoo as he cruised.

he inhaled subtly, your delicate floral perfume underlaid with the warm, sleep-rumpled scent of your skin filling his head with sense memories. lazy sunlit mornings tangled in egyptian cotton sheets, your hair spilled across the pillow. sweaty afternoons grappling on the living room rug like lovestruck college kids. languid twilight baths with your slippery curves pressed back against his chest. he shifted in his seat as his blood began to simmer.

as if she could read his increasingly lurid thoughts, yn turned to meet his gaze. in the shadows, her eyes glittered like black diamonds, dark and fathomless, brimming with wicked promises. slowly, deliberately, she dragged her pink tongue across her bottom lip, leaving the glossed flesh glistening temptingly. toji swallowed hard.

suddenly, the air of the car felt suffocating, the rain misted air unbearably thick and hot. toji cranked the ac, but it did little to cool his overheated skin. he stared deadahead at the surging blades, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his groin.

without a word, you lifted a hand from your lap and slid it across the center console. toji sucked in a sharp breath as your palm skated up his thigh to rest just south of dangerous territory. even through the crisp fabric of his tailored slacks, her touch burned like a brand. as your nimble fingers began to trace idle whorls and spirals, you notice toji’s hands flex around the steering wheel.

“you better get us home safe, mr. we have kids to feed,” you purred, your dulcet voice flooding the charged air between them. “wouldn’t wanna’ have an accident now, would we?” your tone was pure filthy innuendo.

toji risked a glance sideways and instantly regretted it. you looked like a temptation, the old school femme fatale, all dangerous curves and scarlet lips and come-hither eyes. he could practically hear the harps and horns of the kill bill sirens blaring in his brain as he dragged his gaze forward again, locking it on the taillights winking mockingly through the rain smeared glass.

it would be so easy to pull the car over, to say fuck it to propriety and yank you into his lap. to ruck that sinful dress up around your waist and lose himself in your pussy until the windows were disgustingly fogged. so easy to let the inferno building in his veins consume you both right there in the goddamn car.

but toji prided himself on his discipline, his ironclad restraint. you couldn’t be a firefighter without grit, without the ability to stay focused and clear headed no matter what temptations beckoned. he knew that all too well. so he kept his ass planted firmly in the leather seat, even as his body screamed for more of his wife’s wicked touch.

even if his cock throbbed persistently against his fly, inflamed and aching.

you, however, seemed to have no such compunctions about maintaining composure. heedless of toji’s grip on the wheel, you unbuckled your seatbelt and twisted in your seat to face him. in a move that nearly short circuited his brain, you drew one endless leg up onto the seat, making the hem of your dress ride up to reveal the lacy edge of a sheer white thigh high.

toji’s mouth went dust dry. “what’re you doin’?”

“gettin’ comfortable,” you replied airly, but the devilish quirk of your painted lips gave away the game. slowly, you trailed a fingertip along the inside of your thigh, the back of your hand just barely grazing the tent in toji’s slacks as you did so — making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.

“quit playin’ wit’ me, yeah?”

you hummed, unconcerned, and continued her leisurely exploration, tracing idle patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “i’d rather you play with somethin’ else — i mean, you said it yourself.”

toji’s foot pressed down on the accelerator as if by it’s own volition, the car surging forward through the fuzzy soft darkness. toji's heart beat in time, a primal drum urging him to get the fuck home, where he could strip his vixen of a wife bare and remind you where teasin’ got you.

remind you how good he could make you burn.

your throaty chuckle broke him from his reverie. he glanced over to see you still caressing your own thighs, a wry twist to your lips. “you’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ me, aren’t you?” you mused casually, as if remarking on the weather. “how bad you wanna’ pull this car over, bend me over the hood n’ fuck me like i know you want to.”

liquid heat rolled down toji’s spine to pool in his groin, his cock jerking ravenously in the confines of his straining zipper. “goddammit,” he bit out, knuckles gone bloodless on the steering wheel.

you bit your lip on a smirk, shaky satisfaction in your exhale. “c’mon, daddy,” you coaxed, voice husky and sex-soaked. “i can feel you thinkin’ about it . . . those big hands spreading me open jus’ f’you?”

toji couldn't choke back his groan, pressure building to a rolling boil in his veins. his whole world narrowed down to the flex of his thighs, the strain of keeping the car on the road, and the siren song of your body, your scent, your dirty fuckin’ mouth.

“i’ve been so wet all night, t . .” you continued blithely, as if remarking on the weather. “since the second you walked in from work.” you reached over to smooth a proprietary hand along his thigh, thumb still skating dangerously close to his crotch. “i jus’ wanted to drop to my knees and worship you with my mouth right then n’ there.”

toji nearly swallowed his tongue, vivid images of your plush lips stretching around his cock flooding his brain. “c’mon, baby . .”

“ — but i was such a good girl,” you singsonged. “i was patient. i kept my hands to myself through dinner, even though all i could think about was how good you’d feel inside me.” your fingers creep higher to graze his zipper, “how deep i could take this big dick in my pretty little cunt.”

“don’t make me stop this car n’ —“

“pull over,” you murmured, voice molten and dark with promise. “anywhere. i don’t give a fuck - jus’ fuck me, toji. please . . s’ been too fuckin’ long.”

your words shot through him like an electric charge, heat searing down his spine to pool gravid and pulsing in his groin. “shit’,” he bit out, dizzy, nearly delirious with the force of his want. “ well, i know better than to argue with you. go ahead n’ tell me where, baby.”

“over there,” you pointed through the smeared windshield at an empty parking lot on the right, a black gulf set back from the glistening street. “that lot. pull in.” nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself in check, toji wrenched the wheel to the right, tires juddering over wet asphalt as he whipped into the vacant lot. the moment he threw the car into park, you were scrambling into his lap, sinuous as a snake, that tight dress rucking up around your hips completely now.

toji groaned gutturally as the heat of you settled over him, the damp crotch of your panties grinding right against his aching cock. you were like a furnace through the thin satin, searing him, branding him. he bucked helplessly under the pressure, too far gone for finesse.

“shit,” panted against the shell of his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. your little hands scrabbling at his belt, desperate, graceless. “wan’ you s’bad. been drippin’ — it hurts, daddy . .”

toji made a wounded sound as you finally freed his straining erection, wrapping slim fingers around the thick root and pumping once, slowly. you let out a broken moan at the heavy heat of him pulsing in your grip, the way he jerked and kicked against the palm, already leaking from the flushed tip.

“look at you,” you purred, running a thumb through the slippery bead of precum. you brought the digit to your mouth, sucking it clean with a low hum that vibrated straight through him. “mm, so fuckin’ hard f’me.” toji’s hands flew to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight, a drowning man clutching a lifeline. the flimsy lace of your panties was no barrier - he ripped them aside, baring the slick folds of your cunt to the humid air. need pounded behind his eyes, turned his blood to quicksilver, his bones to molten steel.

“i missed you, mama,” he rasped, throat tight, voice scraped raw. “missed you so much.” his calloused hands roam your tummy, waist, and then chest — stopping when his palms grope the full plumpness of your titties, “awe baby . . they’re so heavy. have they gotten bigger?” the casual rubbing is soon interrupted when he pulls them out from their comfortable position in your sundress, your breasts flopping out in the prettiest way.

nipples hard n’ ready to just be absolutely tended to.

“i think so,” you reply, running your hands up and down his chest, “ever since i had rose . . they’ve gotten more n’ more swollen.” it was true. that girl had been your most painful birth ever — and keep in mind, this was coming from a mother of four. your back ached, you felt uncomfortable everywhere, and your tits well . . . let’s just say it felt like carrying around bags of sand attached to your sore chest.

but you’d do it again. anything for your sweet baby girl.

“do they hurt?”

“a little bit,” and on your word, toji leans forward, taking one of your exposed nipples into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. you could only moan as he sucked softly, almost as if he were trying to pry somethin’ out of em’, “aah — mmph! s’ sensitive, daddy . . so sensitive.”

with a needy cry, you wasted to time to pull your panties to the side and tap the tip of him against your slit, “put it in, t . . please,” you don’t even wait for his approval to notch the broad head of his cock against your opening as he worked. he didn’t mind - not one bit. if anything, he was more eager than you. you then wrap around him, gently sinking down, sheathing him in tight, and clinging on. his head cracked back against the headrest after letting go of your nipple with a pop! - fireworks exploding behind his eyes as your silky walls enveloped him, gripped him, fluttered sweetly around his aching length like you’d been waiting for his return.

“oh my god,” you whimpered, lip caught harshly between your teeth. you looked nearly pained, brow pinched, lashes fluttering as you fought to adjust to the invasion. after all, it’s been a while. “i missed you stretchin’ me out, daddy . . missed y’re dick s-so much.”

toji panted shallowly through his nose, every tendon in his body pulled bowstring tight as he fought the feral urge to surge up into you, to seize and take and claim. his fingers flexed convulsively on your hips, blunt nails biting into the plump flesh of your ass.

“i know, i know. i feel you mama. m’ so sorry, daddy’s been neglectin’ this pussy, huh? keep makin’ yourself f-feel good,” he encouraged gutturally, thumbs sweeping over the delicate skin of her inner thighs, smearing her arousal into the creases. “mm, tryin’ to take it all i see . . always so eager to make me proud, ain’t ya’?”

with a keening mewl as a reply, you began to move, rocking shallowly, finding a rhythm. your hands braced on his broad shoulders, using the leverage to grind down, to swivel your hips in maddening figure eights. pleasure sparkled up toji’s spine, gathered in his heavy balls, pulling them up tight and throbbing against his body.

“s-shit, yeah,” he hissed, head swimming, drowning in sensation. “that pussy’s fuckin’ good, yn — always so fuckin’ good. ride that dick jus’ like that.”

you made a desperate sound, head lolling on your neck, lush mouth falling open. each drag of your warm walls had his nerve endings sparking, a livewire of ecstasy. he could feel every clench, every ripple of your ass around him, could feel you growing wetter, slicker, easing the way for faster, harder thrusts.

soon enough you were bouncing feverishly in his lap, shameless, transported. your nails bit into his shoulders through his shirt as you slammed yourself down, the wet smack of sticky flesh and her breathless cries fogging the windows. each downstroke punched the breath from his lungs, until he was dizzy with it, drunk on the feel of you, the sweat and sex musk and some dark energy radiating off of you.

“c’mon,” he growled, palming your ass, spreading you open lewdly so he could watch himself disappear into your gleaming folds, over n’ over, creamy n’ noisy. “gonna’ nut on this dick, hm? gonna’ soak daddy with this greedy lil’ cunt? my greedy fuckin’ cunt — all mine, isn’t it? say that shit.”

“y-yess, s’ all yours, d-daddy,” you panted, back arching sharply as his pelvis pressed just right against your swollen clit. that and the feeling of his hardened head nuzzling against your gummy cervix was just enough to — “m’ close . . m’ so close, baby!” he could feel you starting to tighten, starting to talk and pulse around his hammering cock. with a choked off curse, he gripped the globes of your ass and slammed you down, grinding his hips in deep, filthy circles that had your voice breaking on a sob.

“cum on that dick,” he commanded, holding her steady even as she thrashed and writhed, impaled to the root on his steel-hard length. “give it to daddy — m-make a mess on me, nasty fuckin’ slut.”

he punctuated the words with one brutal thrust, and you had no choice but to cum with a ragged wail, clenching down on him so tight he lost his vision. your cunt rippled and gushed, rhythmic waves gracefully and sloppily milking his pulsing cock as ecstasy whited out behind your eyes.

“fuck, fuck, baby, i can’t — m’ bout to cum, m’ cummin’ - aw fuck!” he choked out, and then his own orgasm was crashing through him, a tidal wave of rapture searing through his veins. he spurted long and hard, painting your trembling walls with scorching ropes of cum that had you shuddering through the aftershocks.

for long moments they stayed locked together, panting into the thick air, pulses gradually slowing. finally you shifted with a shuddery exhale, and toji groaned low in his chest as he slipped free of you in a hot gush. she collapsed bonelessly against his chest, sweat cooling on your skin, looking thoroughly debauched.

toji caught your face between his palms, tipped it up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “holy fuck i love you,” he rasped, thumbs sweeping over your tear stained cheeks, “so fuckin’ much, man - fuck.”

“me too . . l-love you too, babe.” you finished, voice a satisfied husk. a slow grin spread over your face, catlike and smug. “i can’t believe you fucked me in a parking lot.”

“you didn’t give me much choice,” he growled playfully, nipping at your jaw once, twice, three times. “my lil’ cum bunny jus’ couldn’t wait till’ we got home.”

you shivered, squirming against the twitch of renewed interest between his legs. “guess we better head back then,” you murmured. “round two in our nice comfy bed sounds pretty perfect right about now.”

toji made a low sound of agreement, already envisioning peeling her out of that sinful dress and worshipping every inch of her properly. “i can make a thirty minute drive a fifteen — that work for you?”

“y’know you didn’t have to ask that.” you clambered off his lap and they hastily rearranged your clothing, giggling like you were being caught by some mall cop patrolling the area. and then, toji reversed, pulled back onto the glistening streets, one hand resting possessively high on your thigh as the lights of the city streaked by.

soon you were pulling into your familiar driveway. toji killed the engine and dashed around to open your door, ever the gentleman as usual even after tiring you and himself out so thoroughly. hand in hand, giddy and eager, you made you way up the front walk, your heels clicking on the wet concrete.

the door swung open on a scene of perfect domestic tranquility. there on the oversized couch lay satoru, sprawled out and snoring softly, the little ones curled up safe and sound on his chest. the sight filling toji’s heart with indescribable warmth.

gingerly, you both crept closer, not wanting to wake your peaceful babies. toji gazed down at their somber faces, so innocent in sleep, and felt his throat tighten with emotion. you then settled against his side and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“we made some damn cute kids,” you whispered with a contented sigh.

“absolutely we did,” toji agreed gruffly. he turned and pressed a kiss to your hair, soft and sweet. “i love our little family so much. and you . . i say it all the time, but god, i love you more than anything, yn. i wouldn’t have them without you.”

you tilted your face up to his, eyes liquid and luminous in the low light. “take me to bed n’ show me just how much you love me, lieutenant,” you murmured against his lips.

grinning, toji swept her into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle satoru and the kids. “roger that,” he whispered back playfully. “let’s go complete operation ‘welcome home.’”

and with that, he carried his gorgeous, giggling wife down the hall to their bedroom, ready to spend the rest of the night making good on the promise that had been building between them all evening long — a promise of passion, devotion, and a love that could set the whole world on fire.

#🎀 — www.satorubiwrites.com #i luv them so dearly #toji x black reader #toji smut #toji x female reader #jjk x poc!reader #toji x black y/n #toji fushiguro #toji #toji x reader #toji x fem! reader #toji x you

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evellynssocbrainrot · 12 days

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My favorite thing in the whole Grishaverse is pre-Six of Crows Kanej. Just thinking about the two of them forming a partnership, gradually becoming best friends, going on jobs together, training together, fighting together, spying together, lying on their bellies next to each other, scheming together in Kaz's office, gossiping about Ketterdam and the latest murder mysteries in town, solving and sussing out secrets, stealing stuff, buying stuff to eat occasionally, eating it together, sometimes sharing it with a bottle of whiskey or what not, killing together, killing for each other, watching over each other, seeing sunrises and sunsets together, bickering with each other, sometimes having coffee in the morning, a tired Inej falling asleep in Kaz's bed, a tired Kaz falling asleep at his desk and Inej putting a blanket on him, sometimes one cleaning and bandaging wounds that the other can't reach, and over the course of this, gradually building trust and emotional intimacy, and, as a result, ultimately falling in love with each other.

#six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #crooked kingdom

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frankencanon · 1 month

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Six of Crows AU where there's some sort of International Farmers Association that has big meets every now and then where farmers come from all over and Jesper's father has met Kaz's parents there before so when Colm (Jesper's father) meets Kaz he recognizes him almost immediately

"Do I know you?" Colm asks, "That is, have we met before?" And then, before Kaz or anyone else even has the chance to respond: "The Rietvelds! You're the Rietvelds' boy, aren't you? Now, which one are you, then? Jordie or Kaz?"

Someone, inevitably: "Kaz is a farmboy?!"

Edit: I give full blanket permission for anyone to write fanfic of this AU, btw.

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 4 months

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Grishaverse knitting update

I FINISHED THE SIX OF CROWS BLANKET

Okay maybe ‘finished’ is a strong word; all the ends need weaving in (there are so many of them 😭) and I haven’t bought anything to back it with yet but I CAST IT OFF THIS EVENING I’m calling it finished I’m taking the win

The lighting in the photo really isn’t great but here she is in all her glory:

I’m so freaking happy with it

I know a few people asked about the pattern but I don’t have a written one as I just drew up a chart myself and went for it (my second fair isle project ever, and the first was a bauble. I was not ready for this but man I’m glad I just decided to jump I to the deep end because I am obsessed with the result), however I did put up a screenshot of the drawing I used to make my chart a little while ago and if anyone would like me to repost that with my grid superimposed over it and to explain how I did it and what size yarn and needles and everything I used then let me know and I will try to create an explanatory post

I AM SO EXCITED

In other grishaverse knitting news: I haven’t worked on the Kefta in ages tbh but I think I have one sleeve to go before the embroidery I just hate sleeves lol so I’ve been procrastinating and also just generally busy to be fair, and also did I tell y’all I knitted Wylan’s toy crow? I can’t remember, but yeah in my collection of toy crows of the Crows I now have Jesper and Wylan and they sit on my shelf together looking so damn cute. Jesper has a lil hat that he wears at a fun angle and Wylan has lil goggles on his head and a bomb tucked under his wing hehe

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kiame-sama · 1 year

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Omega Marechi (Yandere!Upper-Moons x Omega!Reader x Yandere!Muzan)

Warnings; yandere, multiple yandere, stalking, mention of violence, mention of social imbalance, my abo au (less than 1000 omegas world wide and omegas are a commodity of sorts), omega reader, abo social ladder, abo societal structure, unfair situations, instinct manipulation, kidnapping, threat of murder, blood, violence, mention of human consumption, demons, female bodied reader, female reader pronouns (let me know if y'all want a male version).

(It's a personal headcannon of mine that omegas are short & chubby, so very soft and squishy)

(Also, let me know if y'all want a continuation of this, I have a certain idea involving stockades I have been interested in trying out)

~~~~~~~~

Deep within the winding surfaces and ever changing interior of a fortress wreathed in darkness, demons began to gather. Though they were few in number, each demon had their own impressive strengths and abilities that set them apart from the many other members of their brood. Even with their combined presence and strength, their master stood above them in every way possible.

The king of demons, he who sired every other demon, stood watching his upper ranked generals as they gathered beneath him. Short dark hair seemed to swallow all light in the inky abyssal color, bright red eyes glinting like lit lanterns on the darkest of nights. His fair skin unblemished and so smooth it could be mistaken for the marble of a true artisan's finest work. Truly a vision of a true apex alpha with the beauty of a divine being.

The six generals that gathered were supposed to be without company and solely focused on their sire, yet one was not alone. Next to the top general of the king's army was a large rectangular box shape that was draped in heavy fabrics to conceal what may be held within. The fabrics seemed to be soaked in a heavy perfume mixed with the hint of an unusually appealing scent that taunted the senses.

"What have you brought, Kokushibou?"

The deep and commanding voice of the demon king rumbled out with a tint of curiosity in his tone. Where he expected quite a bit from his upper moons, even he had to admit that the actions of his top general were odd. It was not often that the upper moons did something that surprised him- and usually was met with a swift reprimand- but his curiosity had been peaked by the abnormal behavior.

Without saying a word, Kokushibou gripped the heavy fabric and quickly pulled it away, revealing what had been concealed. Beneath the cloth lay an iron cage- much like what an exotic beast would be transported in- with blankets lining the bottom of the cage for cushion. The cage itself wasn't very interesting when compared to what lay within.

Laying bound in the iron cage was a woman, her (h/c) locks strewn around her head and her (s/c) flesh looked incredibly plush and no doubt was soft to the touch. A delicate and fine silk kimono wrapped around her bound form, even that which held her was made of the expensive materials. Her eyes were covered in a long silk ribbon, mouth held shut by an intricate golden muzzle, her arms cuffed together with similarly intricate cuffs in front of her and lower legs cuffed together.

A woman- no matter how decorated- wasn't much to crow about, but the pungent scent that had been smothered by the perfumes was now free and quickly reached those nearby. There was a visible change in the way the other upper moons stood, their nostrils flaring and eyes fixed on the soft woman as they contemplated what she was. The scent reached Muzan last, but he knew immediately what was being presented to him, though he could scantly believe what his senses were telling him.

"No," Douma started, his multi colored eyes wide in disbelief, "that's impossible. Omegas aren't real! It must be a trick."

"Looks real to me. Smells real too. Actually," Akaza sniffed, looking curiously at the bound female, "she smells like a marechi."

A soft whimper came from within the cage, the female inside moving and seemingly trying to pull away from her binds. The muzzle secured on her kept her from speaking and muffled her sounds as she responded to the voices around her. Blindly she turned her head towards the sound of Akaza speaking, seemingly trying to understand where she was and who she was with.

"She was being transported as cargo on a train. From her scent, it was made clear to me that she is an Omega and a marechi. She has no mating marks present on her body. The humans transporting her were on their way to deliver her to slayers, a gift from a small village of fools."

Muzan silently descended from where he had been standing above the upper moons, approaching the cage curiously. The other demons watched in interest as their sire crouched, observing the bound female that had been presented to him. He had not encountered an omega, even in his long life, so seeing such a rare and unusual being in a cage was surreal. Truly, he had thought omegas were just another myth created by humans.

He reached a finger between the bars, his sharp nail gently scraping over the exposed neck of the omega. Naturally, she responded with a fearful sound at the feeling of something sharp against her neck, trying to writhe away from the sensation. The obvious fear was accompanied by an intense scent that prodded at their minds to defend the soft woman from whatever may be causing her distress.

Muzan observed the struggling of the delicacy he had been presented with, red eyes gleaming and unwavering. After a moment of simply watching the omega struggle, he reached his hands forward to grip the cage bars. With one flex, the metal groaned beneath his hands, crumpling like sand and bending out of shape. One of his hands held the cage still as he ripped the bar off of the cage, pulling out several more until he could access the omega.

The loud sound of the metal bending and crushing had clearly upset the omega who let out a muffled scream into the muzzle, body twisting and writhing to escape the frightening sound and its source. Another scream escaped her as one of Muazan's hands gripped the back of the her kimono, dragging her out of the remnants of the cage. A sharp scent made him freeze, the taunting ambrosia of marechi blood filled his nostrils as he moved to examine the omega.

Sitting on her cheek was the smallest of cuts, blood slowly beading along the line of the slice. Within the second Muzan noticed the small injury, a greedy mouth formed along his hand. The elongated tongue quickly stretching out and slowly laving over the gathered blood with an apparent groan of satisfaction rumbling in his chest from the taste.

His pleasured sound only seemed to frighten the omega more, whimpering out and beginning to cry from the terror. It was understandable, she had been in the cage for an unknown time and now was listening to the sound of an unknown assailant flavor her blood. With a quick motion the blindfold was pulled away, revealing (e/c) eyes that were filled with delicate tears and horror.

Her gaze became fixed on the bright red eyes of the predator in front of her, body falling completely still. Much like the way an injured fawn would freeze upon seeing the open jaws of a bear. The body of the soft omega seemed to curl in on itself, as if she were trying to seem as small as possible all without looking away.

He lifted his free hand towards her and gripped her ornate metal muzzle despite her frightened sounds and slow shaking of her head back and forth. She cringed and closed her eyes tightly as his hand gripped the clasp of the muzzle that held it on.

For a moment, things seemed to stand still in baited anticipation of what the demon king would do next. All upper moons keenly awaited their sire's next move as it would determine the fate of the omega they all were interested in. Wanting to get their hands on her if he allowed her to live, or wanting a piece of her if he chose to consume her.

A soft click of metal could be heard in the profound silence as the clasp of the muzzle was disconnected.

~~0~~

You warily watched the frightening man remove the muzzle you wore, seeing how hungrily he looked at you the entire time. He seemed to be contemplating you, much like many others would when first coming into contact with you. The man- or monster, would be more accurate- suddenly grinned, hand gripping your neck and slowly lifting you up.

Even with how you struggled, the man seemed to have no problem holding you until he was fully standing. His expression became more fierce as the veins in his face became more pronounced, tongue slowly dragging over his lips. After a moment he lowered you so your feet were on the ground, no longer holding you off the ground but still holding you in place.

"You are a truly unfortunate human. Luckily for you, I intend to keep you for the time being. You staying alive or not will be determined by your actions."

~~~~~~~~

You had been taken to a large ornate bed that no doubt belonged to the demonic alpha that broke your chains but left your cuffs. From the way he stared at you, you felt like you were being appraised much in the way one would appraise a meal. A yelp escaping your lips as you were thrown down on the soft surface.

In seconds you felt the silk that held your clothing together rip open, the ornate kimono falling open. Your body was completely left exposed to the intense gaze of the man, you had been dressed for meeting several new mates who were top members of the demon slayers. Instead it seemed the demons found you and decided to keep you for the time being.

Part of you was terrified to fight back as you didn't wish to anger the demon that took you to bed. Based off of his scent, you knew you were dealing with an alpha of great strength and willpower. The alpha himself seeming to be above other alphas that you had caught the scents of whenever one would pass through your village. He was clearly the one others answered to as they had gotten out of his way rather quickly when he decided to drag you to his chambers.

You tried to keep your thighs pressed together to give yourself some kind of protection, but the demon was quick to pry them open. His gaze was intense and you felt your body warm in response to how he stared at your exposed figure. A whimper from you seemed to break the trance he was in as his eyes flicked up to look at you for several seconds.

"And still, you are afraid. Tell me, Omega, did the humans you lived amongst even give you a name, or have you always been Omega?"

"My name," you struggled to keep the fear out of your voice as you answered the alpha demon, "it's (Y/n), (L/n)(Y/n)."

"(Y/n)? I am Kibutsuji Muzan, king of demons. You have gained my attention, (Y/n), quite dangerous indeed. I expect you to be an obedient omega, understand?"

"Ye-yes, I understand, Alpha."

"Good."

You whined softly as one of his hands came up to palm your soft chest as if appraising it like fruit. His bright red eyes gleaming in interest as he observed you trying to sit still for him and let him continue what he wanted. Clearly you were a high tier omega as you were so obedient and did exactly what the alpha told you to do.

The village you grew up in must have trained you to be a good omega, taking the word of an alpha as law. In any case, he was quite pleased to have such a treasure in his grasp. He vaguely considered keeping the omega for himself, but he knew the way the upper moons stared, even Akaza showed clear interest.

An omega would certainly be a unique reward and incentive to push the upper moons further. Beyond just that, using the unique human omega sent could throw off the slayers in such a way there would be no one left to stand against the demon king.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere kny #kny yandere #yandere upper moons #yandere muzan #tw abo #abo #abo au #my abo au #tw kidnapping

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papersirens · 11 months

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Do You Have A Girlfriend?

-ˋˏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀғᴀʙ / ᴀᴏ3 ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ / ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ / ᴡᴄ: 6561 ˏˋ-

Warnings: Yandere!Yuuki, no curse au, everyone is alive au, modern au, mentions of past abusive relationships, alcohol consumption, drugging, implied drug use, reader smokes, gojo unofficially wins the best/worst costume (isnt mentioned), lots of horror references, strap ons, mommy kink, non-con, deception, possessiveness.

AN: Hehe i finally wrote Yuuki my wife!!!

18+ Blog only! Minors DNI!

It was already hot under the white bedsheet that you wore over your head, a cute and silly Halloween costume to attend a party. The layers you wore beneath the fabric didn’t help either; usual attire of loose fitted clothes were supposed to be comfy and casual when a bed sheet isn’t draped over your head. Your costume was fun and simple, not totally thrilled with the idea of dressing sexy or in a grand costume. It’s enough that Gojo wouldn’t scold you for not dressing up at his party.

The only reason you and your friends celebrate Halloween is to party; get fucked up on any and all substances to the point none of you can recognise each other behind scary costumes. Being the magnificent host he is – with a little bit too much money – Gojo had booked a venue for the party and invited everyone he had ever come into contact with. Although, venue is a generous definition; more accurately, Gojo rented a large house that bordered on a mansion to fill it with people and destroy the place without it being his problem.

They swore up and down – both Gojo and Geto swore to you that your ex-girlfriend, Yuuki, was not invited and blacklisted from the party. When approaching the house, you realise there was no way to filter who attended the party. How would they know Yuuki didn’t sneak inside? Your gut was saying turn around, back out and find something else to do for the night, but the weight of the blanket over your head seemed to be crushing the sensical part of your brain as you stepped inside anyway.

Fashionably late, the party was already full of attendees dressed to the nines in a variety of Halloween costumes. There were classics such as clowns, black cats, devils and angels. Unique costumes were also just as eye-catching with a shark and someone dressed as Britney Spears in her ‘Oops I Did It Again’ era. Through dark sunglasses worn over the sheet, you could just about see and appreciate all the cool costumes.

Then the host caught your eye; standing tall at six foot three and voice cutting through the crowd, you mumble a quiet “Oh my god” to yourself, thankful your smile was hidden behind the bedsheet. As you approach, Geto came into view in his own costume: dark slicked back hair, white face paint and dressed all in leather – The Crow is a more appropriate Halloween costume than Gojo.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” You ask once close enough, though both men could hear the smile in your voice as they both turned to the little ghost wearing black sunglasses.

Geto laughed at your outfit, appreciative of the reference and your typical direct approach. Gojo also took it in stride, bright blue eyes peering over comically large, pointed sunglasses. A broad grin on his face as leather fingerless gloves reach up to pull them down further.

“I thought we as a group agreed to wear costumes from movies?” Gojo ignored your question purposefully.

“And I thought our costumes were supposed to be scary?” you countered, smug grin hidden beneath the sheet; Gojo could still see it though like he had many times before.

“The patriarchy is the most horrifying thing of all.”

“Ken is not scary, Gojo.”

He huffed and pouted, standing up again and pushing his glasses back up his nose. Adjusting his white fur coat, he replies “As a feminist, I think Ken represents a true villain and scarier than any random ghost.”

“They’re Michael Myers,” Geto interjects, though he has no stakes in this argument. When first hearing about Gojo’s costume and seeing it, Geto laughed so hard he thought he was going to puke. Even upon seeing your costume, he’s thoroughly impressed with your creativity and reference, not expecting you to come in a costume at all.

“Thanks Geto,” your beaming smile was assumed to be there, along with the imaginary teasing tongue that was stuck out towards Gojo. You add on afterwards to Geto, “I like your costume too, you look cool.”

As you talked about The Crow and how difficult leather is to get in and out of, Gojo pouted quietly and sipped his melon soda. He was pretty happy with his costume, already deciding to keep the fur coat for himself as a treat.

“Who else is here?” you ask Gojo, turning towards him but the question was open for Geto too.

“I know the others are here,” Geto responds first, “I’ve seen the girls.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Yuuki is not here – I promised you, didn’t I?” Gojo exasperates but throws his arm around your shoulder, a comforting move that was a little more aggressive than intended. “She’s not allowed in the Mojo Dojo Casa House.”

You laughed at the reference, “This isn’t even your house, idiot.”

“We’re on the lookout,” Geto reassures with a smile, “Don’t worry.”

You said goodbye to the boys after their comfort and headed out to find any of your other friends. Music thumped and took up the space in your mind, willing away any negative thoughts or paranoia caused by most people hiding behind masks or heavy make-up. Already having a couple of drinks before getting to the party, you were sufficiently buzzed but needed something to keep up your spirits.

Someone else was at the bar, a glorified island in the kitchen that consisted of colourful bottles of liquor and plastic cups. You approached but didn’t recognise the person at first, minding your own business as you pull up the excessive fabric from the inside, eventually finding the bottom hem and freeing little hands. The other person at the bar watched and chuckled at the sight, looking up and recognising Shoko almost instantly.

“Oh Shoko! I didn’t realise it was you,” you spoke but it obviously took the woman a second to realise who was beneath the sheet, announcing your name with a smile.

“That’s a nice costume – I thought you’d be dressed as yourself.”

You, the bedsheet ghost, nod while struggling to find a clean and empty cup through dark glasses, “I couldn’t be bothered with the wrath of Gojo if I didn’t.”

Another chuckle, practically a laugh that cut through the music in a sweet symphony. “Yeah,” Shoko sighed and smiled, “He’s already kicked out a couple of people who didn’t dress up.”

Raising an eyebrow, the sheet shifting against your face ever so slightly. “Really?” Shoko nodded and hummed. “Does that mean Nanami dressed up?”

A sly grin broke out onto your face, turning away before giving you a cup and a bottle of your favourite liquor. “Have you seen Gojo yet?”

“Do you mean Ken?” Your quick wit always makes Shoko laugh, reminding her of a more brash version of Geto. “Yeah – I liked Geto’s costume too, but who are you supposed to be?”

Shoko’s outfit wasn’t something you recognised, though it was definitely a reference to a character. A white button up shirt with the first few unfastened was covered by a black, leather apron and long gloves to match. The gloves and her waist were tied with what looked to be brown box tape. Shoko pulled out a large syringe and posed with it, turning her side to you and looking over to mimic the iconic imagery of a movie that you had never seen before.

“Yamazaki Asami?” You were silent looking at Shoko, of whom let go of her pose and hummed, “It’s an old movie called ’Audition’ – you should watch it, the lead is a crazy woman who tortures people she loves.”

It takes all of your strength not to make a comment about your ex, but Shoko made a face of realisation for a brief moment that didn’t go amiss.

You continue talking while making drinks, Shoko watching with a grin as you flip the end of the bed sheet over your drink and sip beneath the fabric. It was hard to tell what was under there, though it did serve as a good way to protect your drinks. Eventually, both of you part ways with you returning to trying to find any of your friends you recognise. On the way, you were roped into talking to a couple of random people who were a little too intoxicated to realise you weren't one of their friends in disguise.

A Sadako approaches with dangling arms and a face covered in long black hair. It could honestly be anyone, though you watch in amusement as the person approaches and acts as disturbing as possible. It almost works, except the person behind the costume reveals a wide eye that you feel like you would recognise anywhere.

“Utahime?” You ask with a lilt in your tone, the Sadako breaking character by pulling the curtain of hair away from her face, smiling at you.

“I saw you talking to Shoko and I knew it was you; she doesn’t willingly talk to anyone else like that,” Utahime beams as her hair falls back in front of her, a creepy sight even if you knew who it was.

“Yeah, I saw Gojo and Geto earlier too,” you inform with a sip of your drink, “Take it you’re avoiding them while you can.”

You can now understand the difficulty other people are facing talking to you; the lack of facial features makes it hard to determine reactions no matter how big or small. Still, there’s a scoff that comes from behind long black hair.

“If I don’t have to see those idiots all evening then this may be the best Halloween party of them all.”

Before the conversation could continue, someone in a plague doctor outfit approached. Their outfit consisted of black fabric and long robes, approaching and leaning into your face. Utahime didn’t seem phased by this person – or at least she didn’t vocally express it. Confused and a little concerned for who could possibly be beneath the mask, your fight or flight response began to kick in.

Brows furrowed (though it’s not like anyone could see) you took a step back, “Hello? Do you need something?”

A gloved hand reached up to pull at the mask, pulling just enough to show a coy little smile that you recognise as Mei Mei. Your body deflated at the realisation, a sigh of relief and a rather large slurp of your drink to further ease your nerves.

“Hey Mei! Didn’t recognise you under the mask.”

“It’s hard to understand her with the mask on so I’m her voice for the night,” Utahime explains and Mei nods, pointing at you before curling both hands into the shape of a heart. “I love the reference too,” Utahime smiles beneath her hair, “It’s very on brand for you.”

Somehow, you didn’t account for the nerves that you would feel being around those you can’t recognise. It’s to be expected with a Halloween party, yet knowing it was Mei underneath wasn’t enough. All of your friends know about your situation with Yuuki, but there’s something that pushes against you heart with Mei’s silence. The suspicion forms in the air between you, thick and heavy as you try to slow down how quickly you’re drinking, an attempt to alleviate the ache in your chest.

“It really is Mei,” Utahime offers, looking over at the plague doctor.

“I know! I know, it’s just…” You started with a nod but your voice quietened and trailed off quickly. You didn’t want them thinking you don't trust them, but there’s been too much distrust with your ex that it’s difficult to leave the paranoia behind.

Mei reaches up and pulls the mask up from her head, her large brimmed hat now in hand. The beak of her mask points towards the ceiling and reveals her face, a little sheer but still a perfected face of make-up to greet you.

With a sultry smile, Mei offers “It’s me, I would never hurt you like Yuuki did.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, “--Not for free, at least.”

The comment would’ve gotten you more worked up if you weren't so distracted by the peek of Mei’s leg that was now on show. With her shift in pose, a pale leg dared to creep out between black fabric; a long double slit skirt that rose all the way up to her hips, equally dark stockings covering the long leg and lace trimming sat at the top of her thighs. It made your mouth water enough to ignore the slightly inappropriate joke.

“What she did was awful,” Utahime offered and you could hear the sympathetic smile and furrow of her brows. Memories of the awful things Yuuki did to you play through your mind quickly, taking another slurp of your drink as Utahime continues, “Acting like she was the victim after practically abusing you.” you stay silent but want to sarcastically thank Utahime for bringing it back up. “I can’t believe the guys would continue to be at all friendly with her.”

“She’s an influential and valuable ally to them, Utahime.” Mei comments with her mask still off, feeling the awkwardness that continues to radiate between the three of you. “I think they’ve made it clear their friendship with you and how they stand with not inviting her and making sure she’s not here.”

Utahime hums but it’s aggravated, fists clenched at her sides before she relaxes. After that, the topic was changed to talk about their night and how Mei Mei managed to acquire such a well made costume. The alcohol was beginning to hit you harder, along with the sweat that started to run down your face from the heat of the costume. Before looking for Nanami and Haibara, you decided to take a break outside and get some fresh air.

Pulling the costume off was like heaven, a satisfying feeling that you wished could be replicated over and over again. The fabric was balled up and set on the floor beside you on concrete steps leading up to the house. There were a couple of people outside smoking, obviously intoxicated with how loud they laughed during conversation and stumbled while standing still. You fished for a cigarette from your pocket, hoping to blow away all the anxieties through clouds of smoke to enjoy the night with friends.

One click, two, three, four. The lighter refused to ignite, sparks emitting from each flick but nothing remained. “Shit,” you curse through the cigarette between your lips.

Almost like an angel sent down from the heavens above, someone descends the steps beside you and notices your predicament. Their legs were the first to make your acquaintance; large fishnets cover muscular thighs, harnesses strapped to each long leg with circular bindings that lead up to tiny shorts. Your eyes trailed up the strangers body as they stood there, soaking in every aspect of them. Fabric flowed from the back of the high waisted shorts, flowing all the way down their legs and tied with a belt that had multiple chains hanging from them. A leather bustier left nothing to the imagination as you already thought about burying your face there, a little shrug adding a little modesty to the outfit and topped off with a Ghostface mask that had you almost fainting with blood loss to the brain.

The stranger leans down, picks up your cigarette that had fallen onto the stairs between your legs (without your realising) and places it back in your mouth with a gentle push of your chin. A lighter appeared from somewhere on their body, of which you so desperately need to find, and easily lights up with a click before being pressed to the end of the cigarette. Still in awe, huffing the smoke and releasing it from your nose, you watch the sexy and mysterious stranger descend the stairs further. They look over their shoulder at the bottom, a curl of their fingers in a wave before sauntering off into the darkness.

You swear that was what heaven looks like; checking yourself over to make sure you hadn’t died from alcohol poisoning without realising it.

All through your smoke, all you could think about was the Ghostface that lit your cigarette. Those long legs, the mystery of a mask, arms that look to easily pick you up and throw you around a room. A lump formed in your throat and throb between your thighs at the thought. However, it was quickly zapped away with concern about who hid beneath that mask.

It can’t be Yuuki; everyone said they’re on the look out and she’s been blacklisted.

When has that ever stopped her before?

Back in the house and costume returned, you find Nanami and Haibara in the living room. They greeted you with a smile – or at least Haibara smiled, Nanami offered a polite greeting.

“You’re uh…That guy from the movie,” you pointed at Nanami and laughed with Haibara at your comment, “Fuck, I can’t remember the name – it’s something American.”

Nanami shuffled in his seat, sitting up further with one leg still crossed over the other. The clear plastic coat he wears over a business suit crinkles with his movement, overshadowing the huff of air that’s released through his nose. There’s a small quirk at the corner of his lip as he says, “American Psycho.”

“Yeah! That’s the one.” You turn to Haibara, wearing a kosode and smiling brightly up at you. “You are…”

“Zashiki warashi! A friendly house spirit that plays pranks on people but brings good fortune.” It definitely wasn’t scary or necessarily horror media but the concept fit him perfectly.

You sat next to Haibara on the couch, leaning forward to address Nanami, “I’m surprised you’re here and dressed up.”

“I could say the same about you,” Nanami doesn’t even look as he speaks, nursing a plastic cup in his hand. “Didn’t think you’d dress up even that much.”

“Someone gave me this great idea and I had to go with it,” You beamed before sitting back on the couch.

For most of the night, you spent your time with Nanami and Haibara. You flitted around the party and spoke to the others as you saw them, refilling your drink and slowly maintaining a healthy buzz without pushing yourself over the edge of drunk. It was a fun party; the music was loud and gave off a good vibe, the people in attendance were fun and cheerful, you kept seeing the Ghostface around and tried your best not to make the staring abundantly obvious.

You had asked anyone you could if they knew who the Ghostface was – each and every ‘no’ only fueled your paranoia that served to destroy your hopes of having some fun with them. A bad memory, a constant reminder battling in your mind. You wanted to move on, have fun and enjoy yourself at the party, leave with a certain Ghostface that can show you a good time. With every idea that made your heart and pussy flutter, there was a grim reminder that it could be Yuuki under that mask.

At one point in the night, you had become too drunk and frustrated at having to climb through the abundance of fabric to use your hands. Geto convinced you not to take off the costume, compromising with a knife and tearing off the front of the costume – just enough that you maintain length but it’s not a three minute job to fight through it whenever you want a drink. Gojo had offered to cut a little hole where your mouth rests on the fabric, allowing access to drink through a straw over your costume, but Geto was the one to carefully use a knife that close to your face in the end.

Standing by the bar, you sipped away at your drink and drunkenly gazed at the crowd before you. Nothing you saw was being absorbed; a little too drunk and slightly obscured by the dark sunglasses in an equally dim environment. Then, the Ghostface approached again.

“You got a boyfriend?” They asked, voice unrecognisable and a little husky. You shook your head once, a little too flustered to respond verbally. “What kind of girls do you like?”

Wait.

You blinked once, twice. Your whole body went cold, a chill up your spine. Mouth instantly dried and your heart stopped beating for a few moments. Did you hear that right? A question that Yuuki would always ask, one that she asked when you first met, that she would ask anyone when encountering them. So distinguishable that it’s hard to mistake her for anyone else.

“What?” Was all you could muster, trying not to loosen the grip of your empty cup any more.

“I said ‘do you have a girlfriend?’” The Ghostface laughed, stepping forward to reach for something behind you.

Their body towered over yours, bountiful breasts almost pressing into your face as she leaned close. The cocktail of emotions was difficult to decipher, though you could determine the closeness at least made you happy.

“Do you need a refill?” They asked, holding the bottle of liquor that you had been drinking all night.

Believing it to be just a coincidence, you looked down at your empty cup and nodded. The stranger held the plastic container steady, sparks flying as their gloved hand covered your own. Much bigger than yours, almost overshadowing yours completely; a sight and sensation that left you breathless. The liquor was poured with practised ease, your mixer being added in without asking and made just how you liked it. Though the way she poured was mesmerising, you weren't sure where your eyes should lay; the hand holding yours, the drink being poured or the cleavage that looked so soft and delicious. If you were being honest, your eyes settled the most on the strangers boobies that looked oddly familiar.

You introduce yourself and the Ghostface smirks beneath the mask, adjusting the straw to press it through the torn fabric of the costume and into your mouth. “Yuuka.”

Whether it be the alcohol, the atmosphere or simply the dominating aura of the woman before you, you didn’t bat an eyelash at the similarities in name. There’s plenty of people with names that sound the same, what would be the coincidence of their name in particular being similar to your ex-girlfriend? Blissfully ignoring that the stranger didn’t need to ask what you were drinking, the ratio of spirit to mixer or just how familiar her boobs look.

There’s loud jeering in the room next door, breaking through the thumping music to catch Yuuka’s attention; you can imagine the sympathetic and sultry look behind the stoic mask as Yuuka turns to leave, offering a similar wave to the one on the steps before leaving once again. The way her hips swayed as she left had you weak at the knees, groaning low in your throat as the tall goddess sauntered away.

Fuck, you’re down so bad since Yuuki.

You can’t determine when your memory becomes spotty; vision blurred and struggling to remain conscious throughout the night. It feels like you have fallen asleep whenever you ‘wake up’ and are able to process what you’re witnessing, except you are standing upright and already doing something or talking to someone. It felt like a dream sequence, losing complete control of your body and all senses at the same time.

Everyone thought you were drunk; a little concerned but Geto determined you to be mostly fine after having a smoke outside together. Dropping your lit cigarette on the floor and proceeding to stare at it, Geto picked up the burning paper and set it back in your hand with a condescending smile – yeah, just fine. You just drank a little too much and still needed reassurance after the concern of Yuuki. Everyone brushed you off, laughing as you continued to lose balance or lean into a wall in order to stay stood up.

It wasn’t until you fell into the drinks bar and caused a scene that someone stepped in – Yuuka nearby and nearly dashing over towards the fallen ghost. Strong arms wrapped around you confidently, easily pulling you up with hands around your waist and up over Yuuka’s shoulder. Almost like she had been anticipating this, Yuuka didn’t once question you or seek any of your friends to help.

“I’ve got you,” Yuuka said as she stood, “You’re okay with me.”

You were barely conscious, giggling and humming, “Hi Mrs.Ghostface.”

Nanami was the most sober and in turn, the most concerned about your wellbeing the entire night. Knowing his place and only watching you when around, he of course heard the crash and suspected you could be the cause. Entering the kitchen with hatched in hand, it was a lot more threatening than he had intended as he furrowed his brows at the Ghostface who held you at your thighs.

Eyes trailed from you and Ghostface to the mess of spilled liquid and glass shards, “Are they okay? I can take them home, they’re a friend of mine.”

The Ghostface shakes her head and waves off Nanami, “It’s fine, I’ve got them.”

Even though he was probably one of the most sober attendee’s that night, Nanami will still come to regret he was too intoxicated to think clearly enough and insist on taking you home. He’d seen you talking throughout the night, showing keen interest in the masked lady; happy that you were happy and stepping back to allow you to enjoy your night, even if you were a little too drunk than normal.

No one noticed the odd way the Ghostface called Yuuka was acting; always nearby and seeming to be watching, following you outside to smoke at the same time but never together, lack of interest in the party itself, the dissolving pill that was slipped into the drink she made you, how Yuuka never asked for an address.

Not a single person at that party who was supposed to be on the lookout for Yuuki realised she was the Ghostface beneath the mask.

Your limp body bounced with each step, Yuuki over the moon for her plan to have worked; it was risky since everyone of your friends were there and likely on defence after the lies that were told about her, but it paid off having you back in her arms again (and over her shoulder).

Groans and moans slipped from your barely conscious body, Yuuki using her free hand to rub your ass, “Shh I’ve got you now baby, you’re safe.”

“You sound like my mom,” you trailed off, speech slurred and barely distinguishable. Yuuki smiled wide and hummed beneath the mask.

“I could be your mommy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Fuck please,” The way you bounce off of Yuuki’s back with the movement made her skin tingle, “My last mommy was a fucking bitch.”

Yuuki bites her tongue knowing that you meant her, furrowing her brows and unintentionally tightening her grip around your thighs. “Yeah?” Her tone raised in pitch as she attempted to hide her anger, “Well, I’ll be the best mommy you’ve ever had, baby.”

You were too far gone to realise what was happening, the drug in your system rendering you unconscious and useless to allow Yuuki to carry you home. The spare key that was always kept beneath a potted plant was still there, Yuuki showing off her incredible body strength by reaching for it while keeping you on her shoulder.

“Did I ever tell you about my ex? The last person I called mommy?”

’What a cockblock’ Yuuki thought, unlocking the door with familiarity and stepping inside, taking a deep breath and feeling the familiar comfort of your home. It’s been months since she stepped foot in here, a small pang of sadness hits her chest upon realisation; leading up to you trying to dump her, Yuuki didn’t come over and instead always coaxed you round to her house. As much as Yuuki didn’t want to take that pang of sadness and open it up into a bigger wound, curiosity got the best of her.

“No, you didn’t honey–” The door is locked and the spare key tucked under the curve of her breasts, snug between fabric and skin. “–I bet they miss their baby, though.”

You scoffed and Yuuki’s scowl deepened. “I’m sure she does, psycho,” it was spat with venom, “She was fucking insane, wouldn’t leave me alone and couldn’t take no for an answer. I never want to see her again.”

As you spoke, Yuuki brought you through to the bedroom and threw you onto the bed with a little more aggression than intended; reminding herself that you are talking through the drugs and alcohol right now, you’re not in your right state of mind! All your friends have been poisoning you – Shoko, Mei, Utahime. Bitches.

Yuuki climbs onto the bed, quickly slotting herself between your thighs and easily tearing the fabric in half to reveal you underneath. Always a beautiful sight to behold, she can’t help but smile through the anger and frustration that burns inside of her. She loves you, would do anything for you; that includes making sure you don't leave her.

Lost eyes watch Yuuki – still believing this was a woman called Yuuka – peering down and twisting their head curiously side to side. The mystery of who is behind that mask has your heart racing, biting your lip when hips begin to slowly rock into yours. You’re still barely conscious, not going to remember any of this when you’re sober, but your brain still sends signals of arousal and pleasure through your veins that would be delicious if your body wasn’t numb.

Large hands roam across your body over clothes, impatient and rough as they grope and squeeze every inch they can reach. Each noise that was slurred was a symphony to Yuuki’s ears, spurring her on to keep going. The zipper of your jacket was tugged down rather aggressively, a growl of frustration leaving Yuuki when the metal wouldn’t separate itself. You laid on the bed happy as can be to let the sexy Ghostface do whatever they liked to you – it’s not like you could move anyway.

You were undressed quickly; shirt and bra pushed up to your neck in irritation, you found your hands and touched Yuuki – it set her skin on fire, but she needed her baby right now more than anything.

“Do you want me to be your mommy?” Yuuki asked sweetly, hands hovering around your hips and daring to dig nails beneath the fabric.

Nodding so quickly, you might have become dizzy if you were more conscious, “Yeah, need you to be my mommy.”

Those words lit a different kind of fire in Yuuki, one that was built around pleasure and desire rather than her anger towards you. She hummed and giggled, pulling your pants down and exposing your already glistening cunt. Sensitive to her touch, you hummed and wiggled as Yuuki trailed an index finger along folds, her other hand keeping your legs spread apart with a tight grip on the back of your knee.

When Yuuki pulled her finger away and reached for her mask to lift it, you spoke up unexpectedly– “Wait! Keep the mask on, mommy.”

Oh, the fires that burn in Yuuki’s core after those pleading words left your mouth.

Hand suspended in the air, a grin broke out on her face, one that you still couldn’t see. “Okay baby,” Yuuki purred, “I’ll keep it on just for you.”

The hand slips beneath the mask and lifts just enough for Yuuki’s tongue to reach her finger, humming dramatically at the taste. She missed it so much; the taste of your juices and running her tongue along that pretty little pussy of yours. If you hadn't asked so sweetly for Yuuki to keep the mask on, she might have spent the night feasting between those lovely legs.

“You taste delicious,” Yuuki hummed, “Are you sure you don’t want me to take the mask off? I would love to eat you all night long.”

You whine, high pitched and arch your back in an attempt at…Something. Either way, Yuuki loves seeing you so compliant to her for once, before she’s even had to do anything at all.

“Fine,” The larger body climbs off of the bed but you barely notices the loss, “I’ll fuck you tonight, but in the morning I get breakfast in bed!”

A low chuckle bubbles through your lips, your head turning to the side and watching Yuuki find the storage box that toys were kept inside. Not a single thought was behind those eyes, Yuuki thought as she crouched beside the bed, watching longingly. She loved you so much, Yuuki wanted you to be conscious and aware of this! But it would’ve never worked; try, try and try again as she might, you refuse to accept Yuuki will forever be a part of your life.

The harness for the strap was slid on easily, adjustments still how she left them those months ago. Like stepping into a comfortable pair of pyjama pants, moulded and fitted just for her, a familiar feeling as it fastens comfortably around her hips. It felt like home, in an odd way.

While Yuuki fastened your favourite toy to the harness and lubed it up, you hummed to yourself with a smile. A song or at least a tune Yuuki didn’t recognise, it made her heart swell with fondness and pussy vibrate with excitement. Something about watching you so helpless had Yuuki rubbing her thighs together, biting her lip and growing more impatient to fuck you into the mattress.

You barely acknowledged Yuuki between your legs again, only gasping as the fake cock was pressed easily into your waiting hole. The back of your knees were held open by Yuuki, a firm grasp keeping you in place while easing herself inside, bottoming out with a groan at the sight of you stretching out for her. Yuuki begins moving almost immediately, desperate to hear the sweet noises you can make; it’s not like you’ll remember anyway, you’ll just be a little sore in the morning.

Each drag of the cock along your walls was bliss, it filled you up in a way that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head almost immediately. Yuuki wasn’t slow; she never usually is. It was like Yuuki snuck up behind you at the pool and pushed you into the deep end, thrusting fast and deep to watch you writhe on the bed. Hands flailing as your body jerked at the overwhelming pleasure, moans falling freely from your lips.

“You like that? Do you like when mommy fucks you with her cock?”

Hands grip the sheets for a moment before loosening, you were barely able to let out a “Yeah!” Amongst the pleasure that stuck in your throat. Yuuki grinned and giggled, nuzzling her mask into your thigh.

“Tell me how much you like it, baby.”

An impossible task and Yuuki knew it; she was practically torturing you at this point, a wicked grin made a permanent fixture beneath the ghostface mask. You wouldn’t be able to form any words even if you weren't drugged and drunk, the situation only making it more impossible. Gurgles and groans, you attempted to curse and say just about anything, but it was always cut off with a strangled moan when Yuuki hit all the right spots she has memorised.

Yuuki’s own clit throbbed with need at the sight before her, huffing at the exertion and the way her heart pounded against her chest. Love, desire and pure, unbridled lust made her body tingle more than the couple of sips of alcohol she consumed. It’s been so long since you reacted this way to her touch, to the way she fucked you. It’s sad, but she will make you come to your senses again soon – you will realise Yuuki is the only one who can make you feel this good.

“You wanna cum?” She hums, leaning forward slightly and turning her head. Tears brim in your eyes, although the lights are still out and no one's home. Still, you nod and manage to hum in a way that can loosely be described as confirmation. “Say it, say you want mommy to make you cum.”

“Mommy…” You managed to slur out, inhaling a gasp that exhales into a moan. “Make me cum,” the words had Yuuki moaning.

“Have you been good enough? You’re really drunk, I don’t think you deserve it.” Anyone sober could hear the smile in Yuuki’s voice, the teasing lilt that accompanied her questioning. “Look at you; I had to bring you home, make sure you’re safe.”

You whine, hands desperately reaching out for Yuuki but she was out of reach.

“Mommy’s here baby,” Her hands left the back of your knees, threading fingers between outreached hands and pinning them down onto the bed. “Mommy’s got you now. You’re never going to leave mommy again.”

The fabric of the strap and Yuuki’s clothes rubbed at your clit with each thrust, bordering on being painful if you could actually feel it. Still, it was enough to have you pathetically squeezing Yuuki’s hands and crying out “Mommy!” Directly in her ears. You came with a pathetic whine over the fake cock, Yuuki hovering as she watched you cum.

Still buried inside of your pussy, Yuuki pried one of her hands away and pulled off the mask with a grin. While you seemed to be unconscious at the time, your brain recognised Yuuki and was brought back to consciousness to realise who had deceived you all night.

Your face was a treat; Yuuki giggled, dishevelled and sweaty from hiding all night. She sits back up on her knees, wiggling the small voice changer that was attached to the mask.

“Ooo~, Mommy loves you so much baby,” Yuuki mocks you with a cackle into the device, tossing both the mask and voice changer aside before leaning back down onto the bed. “Did you think you could get away from me so easily?”

Hands tried desperately to push Yuuki away, barely tapping her body as a kiss was pressed to your cheek. “Get off!” You slurred, though you were a little too loud for Yuuki’s liking.

Still, she hummed and peered down at you. “No, you’re not going anywhere this time,” She goes in for a kiss to the lips, turning your head to the side and grimacing when it lands on your jaw, “You’re mine, remember that baby.”

Yuuki begins moving her hips again, slow for the first couple of thrusts as she hums, before beginning to go hard again. You were panicked, fear stricken – if you could feel anything, that is. Memories of these moments are lost, a bad dream for the morning that you will never remember. Lips pressed to yours with a tight grip on your chin, keeping you in place as the overwhelming familiar taste of banana chapstick hits you.

“You can’t leave me,” an evil, wicked laugh fills the room with your overstimulated and scared moans, “Never ever ever! I’ll die for you baby, die with you – I’ll kill for you if I have to.”

“No one can have you but me.”

#yuuki tsukumo x reader #tsukumo yuuki x reader #yuki tsukumo x reader #tsukumo yuki x reader #yuuki x reader #jjk yuuki x reader #yuuki jjk x reader #yuuki tsukumo #tsukumo yuuki #yuki tsukumo #tsukumo yuki #jjk x reader #yuki x reader #yuki jjk x reader #jjk yuki x reader #jjk.exe

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evermore-crow · 6 months

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i still need:

2 diamonds

1 heart

2 spades

2 clubs

3 crows

BUT LOOK AT THIS COOL THING I MADE!! it’s just what goes through my mind daily, tbh

#six of crows #crochet #i’m def making a blanket #hopefully i have enough yarn for all this

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miryum · 30 days

Text

"Halloween IV"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Sarge?” Y/n knocked on his desk with a look of troubled guilt on her face.

“Yeah, L/n?”

“So, hypothetically, if, maybe,” Y/n didn’t meet Dick’s eye, hands fumbling around.

“Spit it out, L/n,” Dick said sternly and raised a brow. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Y/n defended herself loudly. “Okay, so- how do I phrase this?- you know the saying ‘let sleeping dogs lie’? Well, what should I do if you replace the dog with a human and the sleeping with potential death…?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dick stared at her and his hands stilled over his keyboard.

“I think a perp might’ve died,” Y/n blurted out.

A couple minutes later, Wayne, Dick, and Y/n stood in the viewing room of an interrogation room, staring at an old, wrinkled man who was slumped over in his chair. A cane was propped up against the table. “I picked him up for attempted robbery. He was moving so slowly that he wasn’t even out the door by the time I got there. I was worried he was gonna die in the back of my car. I tried to make the interrogation room as comfy as possible but now I think I might’ve made it too comfortable… I can’t tell if he’s breathing or not.”

“What do we do?” Dick slowly asked Wayne.

“Are you sure he’s dead, L/n?” Wayne asked. Y/n shrugged in response. “Go make sure,” he commanded.

Y/n rolled her eyes and mumbled something about Dick should go do it, but she entered the interrogation room, glared at the two-way mirror, and knelt down next to the old man. “Sir?” Her voice was calming and quiet. “Sir, are you awake?” The man didn’t move. Y/n looked back at the two-way mirror, wondering what she should do next. She gently poked the man in the shoulder and repeated her question. When the man still didn’t respond, Y/n awkwardly placed her pointer and middle finger on his wrist, trying to find his pulse. She searched for a couple moments before waving to the mirror. Wayne and Dick entered and she announced, “I think he’s dead…”

Y/n watched as two officers slowly draped a white sheet over the old man. Jason stood next to her, an arm around her shoulder. “You gonna be okay?” he asked softly.

Y/n shrugged. “I’ve obviously seen death before but… this hits different for some reason. I mean, in my cruiser, he was telling me stories about meeting his wife after serving in World War II. He even offered me a little chocolate.” Jason hummed and rubbed her arm comfortingly. Dick came up behind them and met Jason’s eye. The two exchanged a meaningful glance.

As the morticians announced the time of death and began their preparations, suddenly, the old man gasped and sat up, the white sheet falling to his shoulders. Everyone jumped and stared at him. “Oh,” the man looked down at the white sheet. “A blanket. How nice.” He smiled at Y/n and said, “thank you, dearie.” He then promptly snuggled back into his chair and fell asleep, letting out a loud snore.

The room was silent. “I thought you said you couldn’t find a pulse,” Dick said to Y/n after a tense moment.

“I couldn’t!” she said, throwing her hands up. “It must be too faint!” She stalked out of the room, grumbling and complaining about how the man made her feel feelings and how she didn’t like it.

“We still have to arrest him for robbery!” Dick called after her.

Tim stood on top of a chair and raised a metal triangle. He pinged the triangle and a soft ding rang out. The detectives of the six-six looked up as Tim said, “Attention, squad!”

“Mm, pretty dainty way to make an announcement,” Dick chuckled.

“It's a workplace. I wanted to be respectful.” Tim glared at his sergeant. “As I was saying, it's time for round four of the Halloween Heist-”

His speech was interrupted by Y/n prancing into the precinct, blasting double air horns. “What's up, six-six!?” she crowed. “Y/n L/n here to tell you that tonight is the night for the Halloween-”

“Heist,” Cass finished. “Tim already went over this.”

“What?” Y/n whirled around and saw Tim standing on his chair, frowning down at her. “Timothy middle-name Drake! What are you doing? I always announce the heist.”

“Yeah, Timmy-boy,” Steph crossed her arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Exercising my right to announce the heist as the defending champion,” Tim huffed.

“Defending champion,” Y/n scoffed loudly. “The only reason you won is ‘cause no one knew you were even playing. It was a pathetic act of pure cowardice. Now, then! This one's for all-”

A loud blaring interrupted Y/n, just as Y/n had interrupted Tim. Captain Wayne strode into the bullpen with a marching band at his heels playing the iconic Ride of the Valkyries.

Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. “Such a dork.”

Tim grinned. “So cool.”

“Attention, squad!” Wayne called out. “Tonight-”

“Nope.” Damian shook his head in disappointment. “The three of you should have coordinated.”

“I should be the one to introduce the heist,” Wayne protested. “Given that I am the last legitimate champion. L/n hasn't won since the first year. She's a has-been.”

“Has-been?!” Y/n cried. “I am not a has-been! If anything, you’re the has-been…. With your old hair and age. And oldness.”

Wayne rolled his eyes and ignored her. “This year's Halloween Heist is a three-way tiebreaker to determine the champion of champions. We'll be playing for this: a plaque that reads: the ultimate detective-slash-genius.” He turned to his detectives and said, “You and Drake should quit now. I'm going to stomp on your dreams.”

“It's fun to see you so passionate,” Y/n commented.

“I will slit you open from mouth to anus and wear you like suit jackets. Your useless brains will splatter to the floor like the smooth radishes they are.” Wayne stared at them, his glare cold and unwelcoming.

“Wow,” Tim muttered after a tense moment.

Wayne continued on as if nothing had happened. “The plaque will be held in this.” He held up a plastic, pink treasure chest.

“Is that my childhood treasure chest?” Tim asked. “How the hell did you get that?”

“It most certainly is, but don't worry.” Wayne held up a hand. “I removed the old report cards, awkward school photos, and attempts at straight love notes. Honestly, Drake, anyone can see that you’re bisexual.” Wayne shook his head.

“Are you still with Bernard?” Y/n asked, clasping her hands together hopefully. Tim nodded, his face flushed and Y/n cooed.

“The chest will be secured with this brand-new lock,” Wayne said, snapping a lock onto the treasure chest. “Todd, if you would?” Wayne handed the key to Jason who promptly threw it out the window and into the street below. “Knowing Gotham, that’ll be gone within thirty minutes. Now, then, I am locking the chest. It will be placed in the centre of the bullpen. Whoever possesses the plaque at sunup wins. Shall we pick teams?”

Dick shook his head and reclined in his chair. “I've got a ton of work. You can just leave me out this year.”

Y/n, Tim, and Wayne all burst into laughter. “Oh, Dick, Dick, Dick.” Y/n shook her head, chuckling. “How naive do you think we are? You're ‘not participating’ so you can cheat us out and steal a victory, like Timmy did last year.”

Dick threw his hands up and turned away, mumbling about dumb heists and all the paperwork he needed to do. Y/n appointed Steph to watch over him, knowing her bestie needed to get some work done, and this was a way for her to complete her work and also participate in the heist.

“Great! It's now time to choose from the remaining players.” Y/n rubbed her hands together. “Tim, since you're last year's champion, I will graciously let you go first.”

“Cass,” Tim said immediately.

“Dope.” Cass held up a hand for a high-five

Wayne then said loudly, “I select Jason Todd.”

“What?” Y/n spluttered, her face morphing into one of shock and confusion.

Wayne chuckled dryly and hummed. “What is the matter, L/n? Were you expecting to have Detective Todd on your team? Have I… thrown a wrench into your plans?” He raised a brow. Wayne knew exactly what he had done.

“Absolutely not,” Y/n refused. “I am simply surprised, because you have such a strong connection with Damian. But I'm glad he's on my team. I had absolutely nothing planned for Jason.” A couple minutes later when Y/n and Damian stood in the copying room, Y/n burst out, “I totally planned everything for Jason. This is a nightmare!”

Damian pursed his lips dramatically and asked, “what can Jason Todd do that I cannot? I have said it before and I will say it again: that man is not good enough for you.”

“Thank you for looking out for me, Dami, but can you roller-skate super well?”

“Bitch,” Damian clicked his tongue. “I am an angel on skates. I skate like a professional. I can do anything that Todd can.”

Y/n sucked in a breath and grimaced. “Except you can’t look exactly like the body double I got for him.” She sighed and called out, “Curran, you can come out now.”

A man stepped out that looked suspiciously like Jason. He didn’t have a white streak in his hair, the angles of his face were slightly off, and it was clear to Y/n that this was not her lovely Jason, but he would have to do.

“Hi.” Curran waved to Damian awkwardly.

“Yes, this pasty white guy will be a problem.” Damian said after a moment of studying the body-double.

Cass and Tim had taken hold of the break room. Tim said, “so I believe the key to good teamwork is an equal exchange of ideas-”

“Stop.” Cass held up a hand and said, “I know you already have a plan. And I want to win, so for the next eight hours, I'm down with all your nerdy crap.” She smirked wickedly. “Come on, Tim. Show me the binder.”

Tim’s grin grew and he corrected her, “okay, but it's not a binder. It's a virtual binder, and it's encrypted on this flash drive!” He held up a small flash drive.

Cass smiled proudly. “That's my boy. Now, where's the 3D model of the precinct, huh?”

“Inside the key chain,” TIm squealed. “It's a freaking hologram!”

“I gotta admit, I’m pretty excited, Captain.” Jason crossed his arms and leaned against Wayne’s desk. “So, how are we gonna do it?”

Wayne rolled out a large whiteboard. “Here's everything you need to know.”

“It's blank,” Jason noted obviously.

“It's a metaphor,” Wayne stated. “You get nothing. You lose. Good day, my good sir.”

Jason’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But we're teammates. You chose me.”

“Ever since you became L/n’s boy-toy, you've become too close,” Wayne explained. “I don't trust you. Love has made you weak. I only chose you to disrupt her plans. And now that you've served your purpose, you're no longer needed.”

Jason scoffed. “I feel so used. Am I just a piece of meat to you?”

“Yes,” Wayne said bluntly. “Now, put on a smile, pork chop.”

Y/n pressed her face against the copy room door, peering into the bullpen. Damian stood next to her, back to the window. “As expected, all eyes are on the chest,” she murmured. “It's go time. Now, Dami!”

Damian quickly dropped to the floor, rolling out of the way for Curran to hop up and take his spot, wearing the same hoodie Damian had been. “This is humiliating,” Damian murmured from the floor.

“Looks like nobody's onto us.” Y/n talked to herself, cheeks still pressed up against the window. “Now, Damian!” Damian slid out of the copy room through a window that led to a back hallway. He army-crawled into the bullpen and moved to the middle of the room where the chest stood. He began fiddling with the lock. Y/n knew not to ask where he had learned how to pick locks.

In the copy room, Y/n awkwardly tried to converse with Curran. “So, Curran, do you have a real job or…?”

“Well,” Curran said, still facing backwards, “I’m an up-and-coming actor, but that’s a hard industry to be in, especially in Gotham, so to pay the bills I began running some jobs for the mob.”

Y/n stared at him, and after a second muttered, “Imma pretend I didn’t hear that. And you couldn’t just get a job at a coffee shop or grocery store?”

“Nah. Too easy.” Curran shook his head.

Y/n simply sighed and shook her head. “Nevermind. Now, Curran, the key here is that I came in before work and replaced the door handles with ones that lock from the outside. I’m pretty smart if I say so myself.” Y/n patted herself on the back. When she saw Damian open the chest, she grinned and said, “alright, Curran. The time is now. Show your face to the world!” Curran whirled around and grinned as the officers of the six-six shouted out in shock.

“What the hell?” Cass exclaimed. “Tim!” Tim ran from the table in which his virtual hologram was set up. He gasped dramatically.

“Pick your jaws up off the floor, ladies!” Y/n sashayed into the room, music playing loudly over speakers. “I am amazing! Here comes Y/n! Whoo! Welcome to the big show. I was gonna sneak the plaque out without anybody knowing, but then I thought... so much more fun to make y’all watch. Now please enjoy as I steal the plaque of destiny.” She noticed Wayne attempting to pick the lock in his office and she tuttered, “no, no, no, Cap-i-tan. That'll take at least three minutes, by which time I will’ve hidden this plaque somewhere you will never find it.” Wayne grunted and his eyes darted to the window. Y/n snickered and said, “of course, you could break the window, but you would never willingly destroy government property, would you?” Wayne squared his jaw and rammed his shoulder into his office window, shattering glass all over the precinct floor. Y/n’s eyes grew and her mouth dropped open. “Whoop! Misread that one.” She cried to Damian, “Dami, skate! Skate like the wind!”

Damian grabbed the plaque as Wayne huffed, chest heaving. Damian smirked and pushed off. He glanced behind him, which was a mistake. Damian rammed right into a wall and toppled over, clutching his nose.

“Damian, are you okay?!” Y/n cried, rushing to his side.

“I am alright,” Damian nodded, blood running down his nostrils and an open cut split the bridge of his nose. After a tense moment, he admitted, “it hurts badly. I hope I am not humbled by this.”

Y/n grabbed some paper towels and tried to clean up Damian’s nose. “I'm so sorry, Dami,” she apologised. “It should have been Jason on those skates. He’s weirdly good at it.”

“All right, Damian, get your things,” Steph shook her head. “I’m taking you to the doctor. You probably have a broken nose and they’ll need to set it and give you a cast.”

Damian waved him off. “No, no, no, no. I shall go alone. I do not need anyone's help. Order me an Uber.”

Wayne paused and stuck his tongue in his cheek. “And I’m sure that despite our natural desire to stop everything, you'd like us to soldier on in your absence and keep the heist going?”

“Yes, that is fine,” Damian said, beginning to get up on his feet. Steph went to help him and insisted that she accompany him.

Wayne clapped his hands. “Well, you heard the man. He insists we continue. Let's mop up this blood and get back at it.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don't think that's the best idea,” Tim stared at the blood. “The blood is dry. We can just clean it up after,” he said as if it was obvious.

“Oh, yes, agreed,” Wayne hummed.

After Damian had left, the team assembled in the bullpen, the pool of blood still in the corner. Y/n exhaled heavily, “I love tonight. However, there is the small issue of me losing my partner. Now, Dick,” she turned to her sarge. “I know that you were upset that no one picked you earlier.”

“Not what happened,” Dick corrected.

“Regardless, please be my partner!” She begged him, “please, please, please, please, please, please.”

“No! Heists are dumb, and I have work to do.”

“You're dumb, and I have... heist to do,” Y/n retorted lamely. “You know what? Forget Dick.” She placed her hands on her hips and turned back to the squad. “At the time of the accident, my team had the plaque, so I’ll just grab it and give myself a four-minute head start.”

Wayne held a hand out. “Not so fast, L/n. I say we reset the plaque and start over.”

“What? But my team had it!” Y/n whined. “Jaybird, tell him,” she turned to Jason, looking for him to back her up.

Jason bit his lip and glanced at Wayne. The Captain stared down at his detective. Jason knew this was the test. “No, darling. We're resetting,” he said.

“Jason, what are you saying?” Y/n’s brows furrowed.

“It’s only fair, Y/n.” Jason shook his head, playing devil’s advocate. “The plaque goes back.”

“Yes, pork chop. Yes,” Wayne whispered dramatically.

“Oh ho ho…” Y/n glared playfully at her boyfriend. “You’ve just set this relationship three weeks back, mister. And that includes the intimate relationship.”

Jason just chuckled and winked at her. “We’ll see about that.”

“I have eyes on Scotty, Kirk, and Bones,” Cass announced to Tim, the pair still in the break room. She was referencing Y/n, Wayne, and Jason (not in that particular order).

Tim gasped, “you used their code names. You read the plans, agenda and all!”

“Damn right, I did.” Cass grinned. “I told you, I'm all in.”

“And you didn't make fun of me for basing it all on Star Trek,” Tim gushed.

“I even did your suggested reading of the fandom wiki,” Cass bragged.

“You did?!”

“Calm down.” Cass rolled her eyes. “You're such a Spock.”

“I am! It's true!” Tim’s voice got to a concerning octave and he bounced up on the balls of his feet.

“Todd, I was impressed with how you stood up to L/n and demanded a reset,” Wayne said as he sat in his chair.

Jason chuckled once. “I'm Team Wayne all the way.”

Wayne scrutinised him. “Well, perhaps I can use a teammate after all,” he conceded. “Do you swear I can trust you?”

“Yes. I swear.” Deep down, they all needed the approval of their Captain.

“Let's unleash hell.” Y/n stood vigilante in the copy room, holding down court. “Thanks for coming back, Curran,” she said to Curran, who sat on the copier machine. “I really needed a teammate.”

“Anytime, dude. This precinct has one of the best sweet trays in the lobby.”

“How many Gotham precincts have you been in?”

Just then, the elevator door dinged and a young teenager stepped out. “Uh, I got a pizza here for Bruce Wayne,” the teen stammered, clearly nervous about being surrounded by police officers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Y/n stormed out of the copy room, Curran pattering behind her. “Wayne hates pizza. He's trying to distract us!”

Wayne joined her, as did Jason and Tim. “If I were trying to distract you, I would have sent you the pizza. This is your doing, you and your mob man...”

“Curran is not in the mob! I don’t think…”

Another pizza man walked in. “I have a pizza here for Bruce Wayne.”

“What's going on?” Tim’s head whipped back and forth.

Two more delivery guys entered and they both announced, “I have a pizza here for Bruce Wayne.”

“Which one of you bozos did this?” Tim accused Y/n and Wayne.

“Us?” Y/n huffed, offended. “You know how much planning it takes to get this many pizza guys here at the same time? A binder full of planning. This has Tim written all over it.”

“Nuh-uh! If I had done this, it would say Captain Bruce Wayne. I'm not going to disrespect you, sir, even for the sake of the heist.”

“I'll guard the plaque!” Jason suddenly cried out as more pizzas entered the precinct.

“You're not leaving my sight!” Tim pointed an angry finger at him.

“Curran, can you see what's going on?” Y/n asked frantically, trying to see over the pizza boxes. “Do you have eyes on Jason and Cass?”

“I don’t know anyone's names…” Curran admitted.

“There's too much pizza!”

“I see Wayne. I see Jason. Where's Dick?”

Dick stood up and pushed through the pizzas. “I’m leaving! This is ridiculous.”

“This is madness!”

Y/n grabbed one of the delivery guys. “Who hired you?” she demanded. “Who do you work for, pizza man?”

Tim stood atop a chair, a parallel to that morning, and used one of the bullhorns Y/n had blared to announce her arrival. “Everyone with a pizza, get out of here!” he screamed.

After the pizza guys had left, it was revealed that the chest was broken and the plaque was gone. Arguments both began and died down, but eventually, everyone trooped back to their respective areas.

Tim closed the blinds in the break room and crossed his fingers. “Okay, was the operation a success?”

“You tell me.” Cass, who was wearing a red shirt and hat with bold yellow lettering on it, opened a pizza box to reveal the plaque. Tim let out a noise of excitement and Cass explained, “I blended right in with the pizza guys. Got out my bolt cutters and the lock snapped on the first try. No one saw me leave.” She sighed and admitted, “got to hand it to you... beautiful plan.”

“Beautiful execution,” Tim complimented. “It's kind of like we're our own crew of The Enterprise. God, I don't want tonight to ever end.” He knelt next to a vent in the break room and ushered Cass over. “This is where I hide my secret stash of candy.” A very serious look came over his face. “Can I trust you with this information?” Cass rolled her eyes and nodded. Tim nodded back before stowing the plaque in the vent.

“This is so frustrating.” Jason groaned, a muscle in his jaw tensing as he ranted to Wayne. “There's no way of knowing who has the plaque.”

Wayne said immediately, “Cassandra and Timothy have it.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Cain usually favours her left leg, but after ‘Zero Dark Pizza,’ she was suddenly favouring her right. Her gait was thrown off because she was carrying the plaque. And I know exactly where it's hidden: in Drake’s secret candy stash.” Jason opened his mouth to ask a question, but he recognised when his capitan was monologuing, so he just let Wayne continue. “Whenever he gets stressed out, he eats some candy. It's almost ridiculously easy to stress him out.”

“Oh, Drake, I…” Wayne trailed off. “Nevermind.”

Tim’s head shot up. “What is it? What?” He bit his lip and declared, “I got to go.”

Wayne surveyed the camera recordings from the break room. He saw Tim stuff some chocolate in his mouth. “Bing-pot.”

“And now it's time to send in our cute little secret weapon. Ace.” Wayne revealed a dog bed under his desk with a small, black dog resting happily on it. “Over the past month, I've had him trained to retrieve plaques. And now, boy, it's time to make Daddy proud.”

“Time is running out,” Y/n muttered. “We gotta stop playing by the rules and start playing dirty.” She realised she was talking to herself, as Curran had needed to attend to some ‘business’. Y/n huffed and poked her head out of the copy room, signalling to Jason. “Jason! Get in here!” Jason seemed incredibly apprehensive, but slid into the room anyway. The moment he was in, Y/n shut the door behind him and interrogated, “what is Wayne up to? Does he have the plaque? Does he know who does?”

Jason sighed and replied smoothly, “I'm not telling you that, Y/n. I'm Team Wayne, and there's nothing you could say that will change that.”

Y/n squinted at him and after a moment, said, “Okay, fine, then I guess I’ll be sleeping at my apartment for the next week or two.”

Jason’s brows bent down and he stared at her. “Y/n…” he muttered. “No.”

Y/n tried to remain strong, but seeing Jason’s heartbroken expression sent knives through her soul. “Yes. I… I will postpone this relationship for an entire week!”

Jason stepped closer to her and slid his hands up her arms. “Darling. You know you don’t mean that. I know for a fact that you sleep just as horribly as I do when we’re apart. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“God, I hate that you know me so well!” Y/n fumed. “But- but I’ll do it! And… I’ll show Dick that picture of you dressed as the Easter Bunny for Halloween!”

Jason gasped dramatically and took a step back, a hand to his heart. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Y/n grinned sharply. “Oh, I would. And you know it.”

Jason’s jaw ticked and after a tense moment, he broke. “Wayne has the plaque. It's hidden in the evidence room in a box marked ‘Cold Cases 1972.’”

Y/n smiled and patted his cheek. “Thank you, my love.”

Y/n held up the plaque, a box labelled ‘Cold Cases 1972’ open on the shelf next to her. “Ain't she a beaut?” she whistled appreciatively.

“Chht, chht, chht, chht…” A voice made her jump and Y/n turned around to see Captain Wayne stalking up on her, Jason behind him, arms crossed over his chest.

“What is happening right now?” she asked, referencing the odd noises he was making.

“The last sands are running through the hourglass…” he explained ominously, “chht, chht, chht... because your time is running out, and you are never going to get the plaque.”

Jason sighed and shook his head. “Captain, stop. I can't let you embarrass yourself. I told Y/n everything. Threats were exchanged and I freaked out. I'm sorry.”

“It's alright.” Wayne brushed him off. “I knew you would betray me. That's why I fed you fake intel.” At Jason and Y/n’s confused faces, he continued, “the plaque was never in ‘Cold Cases 1972.’ As if I'd just put it in a box, unattended.” He glared at his detectives, offended they assumed so little of him.

“Uh, but you did,” Y/n rebutted.

“No, I didn't.”

“Then how do you explain this?” Y/n held up her plaque.

“I have no idea. I put the plaque in my office.” Wayne marched towards his office and, hidden in a fake-bottom drawer, laid the plaque.

The trio convened in the bullpen where Cass and Tim strolled up to them, Tim holding an identical plaque. “What's up, turds?” Seeing the replica plaques, Cass asked, “wait, what is going on? We have the plaque.”

“Yeah, I just got it out of the vent to rub it in your faces,” Tim said.

“Something strange is afoot. Which of these is real?” Wayne demanded.

Suddenly, the lights clicked off and were replaced by glowing, neon purple lights. Tim deduced, “black lights. What the hell?”

Jason looked around and cringed away from everything. “Oh, my God. This place is disgusting.”

“This place is disgusting: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n mumbled, almost to herself. She then gasped and slapped her hands on her cheeks in revelation. “Title of our sex tape!”

“Dear God.” Wayne cringed, then a glimmer caught his eye. “Wait. Look at the plaques.”

“‘Are.’ ‘Heists.’ ‘Dumb.’” Y/n read aloud from each of the plaques. The three words, one on each plaque, were suddenly illuminated in the black light. “Are heists dumb? Of course not. That’s a stupid question,” she scoffed.

“No, Y/n, it says, ‘Heists are dumb.’” Tim rolled his eyes.

The entire team then put together the pieces and gasped, “Dick!”

The officers stormed up to the sergeant's desk and Y/n cried out, “the Oscar for best liar goes to you, good sir!”

“That's not an Oscars category,” Dick said. “What's going on?”

“Cut the bullshit, Grayson,” Wayne’s nostrils fumed. “Where's the plaque?”

“For the last time, I don't know. I've been working here the whole time.” He stood up and waved them away. “You know what? I don't need this. I’m leaving.”

“You're not going anywhere,” Cass growled, pulling out her baton.

“Damn, Cain!” Dick exclaimed. He took one look at her baton and hurried away from the group.

“He's trying to get away!” Everyone rushed after Dick and they all herded into an interrogation room, chasing after him.

Dick slammed into the opposite door, jiggling the handle, trying to get away. He cried out, “someone locked the door!”

Suddenly, Damian knocked on the glass (conveniently not a two-way mirror), drawing everyone's attention to him. “Hello, losers,” he greeted calmly, watching them all. “As I’m sure you’re all wondering, it is I that has the real plaque.” He held up the shining plaque in all its glory.

“Damian! Of course!” Y/n hissed. “It all makes sense, except for the parts I don't understand and the fact that I still kind of think Dick did this.”

“No, it was all me,” Damian grinned slyly. “Three weeks ago, Captain Wayne asked me to order a plaque that read, The ultimate detective-slash-genius. I did so, and I ordered three replicas. Once I had the plaques, I manipulated Captain Wayne into choosing Jason as his partner. All it took was six bottles of dish soap.”

Damian stood in front of a sink overflowing with bubbles, his hands on his hips. “See, this is what happens when Y/n tries to wash dishes by herself. She's helpless without Todd.”

Wayne stood next to him and raised a brow. “Yes. She is helpless without Todd.”

“You fell for my trap like a greedy little rat,” Damian said to Wayne, his eyes glimmering with power. “It was easy. The next phase of my plan: a skating accident.”

“But you broke your nose!” Y/n cried.

“I would do anything to win,” came Damian’s immediate response. Everyone’s eyes widened and someone let out an, “oh, damn.”

“I swapped out a dummy plaque for the real one. Then I left to go to the doctor,” Damian continued easily. “I came back, wearing the perfect disguise to make sure I was never noticed by anyone. Something drab and uninspiring…”

“This feels like it's gonna be a dig on me,” Tim grumbled.

“I wore Timothy’s clothes.”

“There it is.”

“This is your doing, you and your mob man...”

“Curran is not in the mob! I don’t think…”

As Wayne and Y/n argued, Damian stood casually in the background, wearing Tim’s jeans and a black turtleneck.

“That turtleneck is not drab!” Tim argued.

“Drake, it made me invisible,” Dami shook his head at the detective.

“And now that I had that power, every time one of you stole a plaque, I replaced it with a fake. And no one had any idea until the lights went out, revealing a secret message: Heists are dumb.”

“Then we raced in here to blame Dick, and you trapped us. But how did you know he was gonna say ‘heists are dumb?��”

Damian sighed sadly. “When you’ve worked with Grayson for as long as we have, you tend to pick up on some things. Unfortunately.” Dick’s mouth dropped open in betrayal. Damian didn’t care and he spread his arms, smirking. “Now here all of you are, locked behind the glass like a school of pathetic fish. I know you’re wondering why I did it.”

“Because you wanted to win?” Jason guessed.

“No!” Damian snapped. “I had a loftier goal in mind. Do me a favour and tell me what the plaque says? ‘The ultimate detective-slash-genius’. Detective. Can you imagine what that word sounds like to someone who's not a detective? Discriminatory.”

“You’re a fucking law student, Dami,” Y/n muttered. “You’ll have more power than us one day.”

“I've proved a point,” Damian said haughtily. “And that's why we're changing the name of the plaque forever.”

“To what?” Wayne asked.

Later, at Orin’s Bar, the team of the six-six (rejoined by Steph) cheersed Damian and applauded, “Damian al Ghul is the ultimate human-slash-genius.”

“Thank you.” Damian bowed his head, smiling softly. “Now I'd like to say a few words.” He sighed and admitted, “I love you imbeciles. Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween!” The six-six precinct yelled back and Jason wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders and brought her in for a hug, beaming at her.

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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