#the usual drill tonite

[roadkill-dreaming]

☆

[rubysoleilsworld]

Fightclub

Damian adored his father, he loved Alfred and Grayson, and was passing fond of Todd, Cassandra, Stephanie and Barbra. But despite this, he had been looking forward to spending time alone in the manor. To be allowed to be in the manor on his own felt liberating. Even though father had locked down access to the cave, Damian considered this day to be a milestone of trust for them both. Most other 12 year olds were allowed to stay home without a babysitter, or in his case, a butler. Despite not be allowed to patrol, he was excited at the prospect of having the manor all to himself for the entire evening.

What precipitated this milestone was a charity event at Gotham General for the new cancer wing and adjacent research facility, and Alfred, who was on his way to England to sort out a cousin’s estate. The charity event promised to be hours long, combining drinks, aperitifs, silent and live auctions, followed by music and dancing. The invite said ‘A night of Emotion, featuring Celtic Woman’.

Damian, who had just recovered from a 24 hour flu that had struck in the middle of the night two days ago, had begged off attending. But everyone else including Grayson, was in attendance. Even Todd was present as Red Hood, patrolling the area from above. Todd was also serving as Grayson’s wingman, whatever that meant. The Birds were taking care of the rest of Gotham tonite.

Now it was just him. Alone in the expansive manor left to his own devices. The first two hours he indulged himself by running around the manor pretending to battle imaginary intruders. Really, it was nonsensical of father to think that the manor’s security was infallible. With that thought he drew up drill plans, noting spots of egress and ingress within the expansive manor.

He idled with the thought of eventually uploading his plans onto the batcomputer, but no, these drills must be memorized, with no digital or hard copy available. He would speak with the second eldest, Todd, about this tomorrow. After all his mother had breached security twice that he knew of, and Selina....Well, Catwoman wasn’t league trained, but she was charmed. How else could one explain away the things she was able to do. She once managed to put a silver cross around his neck without him knowing! Why a cross, he’ll never understand. But to this day for some reason he leaves it hanging on his bedroom mirror. Perhaps a reminder that he is not as infallible as he is wont to imagine?

Having worked up an appetite, his tastebuds drummed as he thought of the cucumber sandwich that Alfred had made just for him just before leaving for the airport. One of just many such treats Alfred had prepared to last the boy through the week.

He prepared the table carefully, just as Alfred had thought him. Laying out the table cloth with care, placing a crystal goblet of water to his right. He needn’t silverware this time, so from the credenza he only took out a linen napkin and a small china plate usually reserved for dessert. Alfred wouldn’t mind him using the good chinaware. Sometimes it was nice to do things proper, instead of being pedestrian.

He retrieved a small container from the icebox and walked over to the table. Inside was his favorite, cucumber on marbled rye, with a garden veggie schmear Alfred had managed to reengineer from Damian’s favorite Metropolisian deli. He loved the way Alfred prepared sandwiches, cutting off the crusts just how he like it. Father always complained when Damian asked him to cut off the crusts, stupid Drake said it was wasteful, but Todd didn’t care. Sometimes during patrol he would bring them both panini’s from Allessandro’s, and cut the crusts off with his utility knife just to spite ‘The replacement’.

He’d barely placed his sandwich on his plate when he heard Grayson, Todd and Drake crashing through the garage door into the utility room, and out again through that door into the foyer. Startled Damian made a mental note ‘ingress. Garage door; utility room door, not secure’.

“Damian!” Grayson, demanding to know where he was.

“I’m in the dining room”, he responded, getting up from the table, “why are you back early”.

Before he could make his way to the foyer his 3 elder siblings stumbled into the dining room. Grayson and Todd each having slung an arm of Drake’s over their shoulders, dragging in the younger, because he could barely walk, further into the dining room.

“How did he manage to injure himself at the party?” Damian demanded.

“Oh he’s not injured” Grayson said wryly.

Lifting his arm away from Todd and Grayson, Drake moved further into the dining room on his own.

Stumbling he reached a hand out towards the table slurring, “how’s I s’posed ta know Irishh coffee has wishkey innit...”. His hand fell short. Ffalling face first towards the floor, he turned at the last second, landing on the Venetian tile with a resounding splat on his back instead.

“You let Drake become inebriated!” Accused Damian.

Grayson and Todd, at the same time, “it was his fault!”

“How is this my fault?” Todd complained, “I wasn’t even there!” Grayson just rolled his eyes as if to say, ‘I didn’t mean you’.

“Tt, it does not matter Todd,” snapped Damian, “doubtless father is furious though.”

“Oh, father doesn’t know,” Todd interjected derisively, “he thinks it’s just an act. Civilian identity and all that.

“Anyway,” Grayson, ignoring Jason, continued, “just tell us where you want him and don’t say the floor.”

“In his own room. Grayson, why are you asking?” Suddenly Damian was suspicious.

“Yeah, that’s not happening” Todd said quickly.

“Thhrr thumping me”, Drake whined from the floor. “Istha a coocumber sthanwith”

Damian shot the duo an affronted look, chin out, as if ready to fight.

“Look, little D, it’ll be ok,” Grayson laughed “just call Alfred he’ll tell you what to do”

It was Todd’s turn for the look this time, giving Grayson an incredulous one, and Damian said tersely “I can’t do that he’s on a transatlantic flight.”

“What? No he’s not, he just flew to Cambridge, he should be there already—“

“Oh. My. God” Todd rolled his eyes, and Drake started laughing hysterically.

“Mathathewset! ...aha, haha...!” Drake howled with laughter from his place on the floor.

Giving Drake a look of disdain, Damian raised his voice over the maniacal cackling. “Cambridge, Cambridgeshire England Grayson! And just exactly how much Irish coffee have you had tonight?”

“Look little D—“ but Damian cut him off.

Glaring at Grayson he said “ No! You and Todd cannot just dump him on me like this. Why can’t Stephanie and Cassandra look after him?”

Drake bolted upright. “Shthefhany thoved me intho th waither!” He said angrily, arm outstretched pointing an index finger at the trio.

Then, still in his sitting position, he twisted back towards the table. Placing his hands on the it, he started slowly dragging himself along its length, while Todd smirked, trying not to laugh at him.

“Steph and Cass are too busy shipping over Celtic Woman,” Grayson began before Todd cut him off.

“And we’d tranq him, but B locked down the cave because someone wanted some alone time!”

“Tt, if you’re out of darts, then just take him to the clock tower so Gordon can babysit!”

“D—“ Grayson started again.

“No!” Todd grabbed Damian by the upper arms, looked down as his littlest brother, and said, “we can’t do that because we’re trying to get laid, and we need to get out of here ASAP!”

With a sneer Damian resisted the light hold, but Todd pulled him back. He lifted Damian up about an inch over his own head, and half an arms length away, emphasizing both the elder sibling’s strength and reach, as well as his irritation.

“Desist now Todd!” Yelled Damian, but with his arms pinned to his side there was very little he could do, except palm a small dagger from his pocket,and that made him very furious with his second elder brother. At the same time he was also mad with respect for Todd, though he’d never admit it.

Holding Damian up in the air, the younger’s legs thrashing wildly, trying to connect with Todd’s ribs, he said between clenched teeth, ‘It’s not that hard. There are 3 basic rules. 1. Feed and water a Timbo, but don’t let him eat or drink too much, and 2. make sure you flip the replacement over on his side when he passes out.”

With that Todd set his littlest brother back down, dodged Damian’s sweeping leg kick, and a dagger to his side with a quick hop and a laugh. Thumping Grayson on his back with both hands, the two proceeded to head back towards the garage. Though Grayson had the audacity to wag his index finger towards Damian, mouthing ‘no stabbing or killing your brothers’ as he walked backwards towards the utility door.

“What’s the 3rd rule?” Damian shouted after them.

In unison they both yelled back “Don’t be a narc”.

“Narc, whatever does that mean?” He mumbled to himself.

Behind him Damian’s plate crashed to the ground, and he heard Drake say, “Thiss coocumbrr sthanwhith is tho gud!”

‘Drake!” Damian rounded on his elder brother and leapt towards the table, snatching up the plastic container that held the rest of his precious sandwiches.

“Oh! For mercy’s sake Drake, show some dignity.” He said. He then walked back to the kitchen to put the container back in the icebox.

Drake, in response “nom, nom,nom,nom...” as he finished the sandwich.

Damian shook his head, resigned. He grabbed a jar of peanut butter and two spoons, then made his way back to the kitchen.

Seeing the peanut butter Drake’s shoulders drooped, head down, he whined, “I sowry. I sssuckk!”.

Utilizing a chair Drake pulled himself up to sit at the table. Damian pushed the goblet of water towards his 3rd eldest brother. Drake picked up the goblet and drank the water in one drought. He took the proffered spoon, and together him and Damian proceeded to take turns spooning out the peanut butter to eat.

After a couple two, or three large tablespoons, Drake spoke again “whathss that?” He reached towards the papers on which Damian had prepared his emergency drills.

“I am not ready to share that yet”, he moved the paperwork to his other side, out of Drake’s reach.

Drake, pointed a finger at Damian, “okay, ‘feth up, liddle bat, you were running around the houth earlier playing roguesth and capess”

Damian scowled in between spoonfuls of peanut butter. “Tt, did not.”

Drake regarded him thoughtfully, glassy eyes trying to focus, as he moved to rest his chin on his hand, “I almos believe you.”

Damian noted his speech was improving, but he also remembered rule number 1 and took the spoon and jar of peanut butter away from Drake. “For your information, I was playing capes and assassins, league trained to be exact.”

Drake, though still trying to focus, noted in his language usage that league trained also applied to capes,“ intersthing!” He perked up, remembering something his inebriated mind considered parallel. “Have you ever hurd of thelebrity fight club?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to speak of it?”

Drake sputtered, “no, thath’s fight club fight club.”

Damian frowned. “Please Drake, father would never let us engage in such public spectacle.”

“Iths not real, iths claymation.” It took some effort on Drake’s part to get out that last word.

It was Damian who regarded Drake thoughtfully this time, “Explain.”

“Jon ever thow you Wallace and Gromit?” Damian shook his head in assent, and Drake continued, “tho like that, bu’ with c’lebrrdies f-fighting eachhothr…,” he grinned, and waited expectantly, starting to feel much better.

Damian was silent, waiting for the penny to drop.

“…and thhink of th’ damage you can infflict on a clay figuure...”

Damian’s brows knitted together, “…and said damage could be repaired quite easily. So, in effect it’s a harmless practice.”

“Exactly!” Tim beamed, slapping his hand down on the table. “Hey can I have ssome ore water?”

“Of course you may.” Damian took the glass, and proceeded into the kitchen.

Returning from the kitchen, Damian continued the conversation, “am I correct in assuming this is the part where we have discourse about who could defeat who?”

“Exactly!”

Sitting down, Damian hummed. This time it was he who rested his chin on his hand. “But, as a Jon would say, cartoon rules apply. Otherwise it would make no sense to include Wonder Woman or Superman in such barbaric pursuits.”

“Yass! Damesth, I’m tho proud of you!” He raised his hand in the air.

Damian grinned proudly returning the gesture, and Drake slapped Damian’s hand with his own.

“Ok, first up-“

“Harley Quinn vs Nightwing!” Damian said excitedly. “If Harley has her baseball bat she’d mop the floor with Grayson.”

Drake grinned, “way to show family loyalty, but alright. Oh hey! My action figures are still here. We can use them.” Drake got up and with Damian following they retreated upstairs.

Once upstairs, in Drake’s old room, suite really, Drake got down on the floor, reaching his arms underneath his bed he pulled out a rather large container. He didn’t get up, instead he shoved the box towards Damian, and rolled over on his side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he opened the container. Damian sat on the floor opposite and watched as Drake dumped out the contents of the box. There were what appeared to be hundreds of action figures now on the floor between them. Some were characters from Star Wars and Star Trek, some he recognized from his collections of video games. It was the hero action figures that caught his eye. The entirety of Gotham’s rogues were represented, as were the entire caped and cowled community. From Batman to Zatanna.

“Drake,” Damian breathed in awe, “why do you have all these?”

“Why not? Most of the superhero one’s were before I came to Iive with Bruce.”

Together, they began sorting the figures, throwing the generic thugs, transformers, stormtroopers, and red shirts back into the box.

“Damian,” Drake began, “can I see what you’ve been working on now?”

Damian paused, considering the request, absently fiddling with a transformer. He did bring his plans upstairs with him. Damian dropped the transformer in the box and picked up his plans, holding them gingerly. His lips twitched as he looked at the bundle of drawing paper, but despite his hesitant anxiety, he leaned over the box and handed the bundle to Drake.

Damian nervously began to sort actions figures again. He had originally wanted to show Todd first, since this was something his second eldest brother had likely done for his own apartment building. He’d never considered showing Drake first.

“Damian,” Drake looked up from reading Damian’s work, after having briefly looked through paperwork. A look of admiration shown on his face. “This is really good!”

“Really? I thought to show Todd first....”

“I think you should show Bruce tomorrow.”

“If you think so.”

“I do.” Drake stifled a yawn and passed the bundle of paper back to Damian who beamed proudly.

“Thanks Drake. That means a lot coming from you.”

A look of disbelief flickered briefly across Drake’s face. Recovering quickly, smiling he said simply, “thanks, and back atcha baby bat.”

Putting the plans aside Damian set about separating the actions figures once more.

“Drake, should we do a tale of the tape? Oh, and since you have a Red Hood figure, I’ve put back the Joker since...well you know.”

When silence greeted him, Damian looked up to find Drake sprawled on his back, softly snoring. Damian shoved the now closed box aside and out of the way. As,he was sliding the selected action figures to one side of the box he saw a robin action figure newer than the others, and picked it up. With a look of wonder Damian turned it over once in his hands. It was his very own figure, green boots and mask and all.

Smiling gently, he looked over at Drake. Remembering rule #2, he scooted over and tugged on Drake’s arm and shoulder until his elder brother was laying safely on his side. After placing a blanket over Drake’s sleeping form, he picked up his bundle of paperwork and his action figure. Making his way out of the bedroom, he placed his action figure on the night stand, and turned off the light before quietly closing the door.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Girl With A Red Shirt (A Red Shirt, part II.)

A/N: This is for @papisully, bcs I just wanted to, alrite? Also, you, as the reader, are drunk as hell in this, just letting you know. Also, the reader is drunk and cocky as shit, so let me live, pls. 

Description: Victor Sullivan, treasure hunter and a businessman in his late thirties. One day, he got back from his gig and met a cute girl in his favorite laundry; just to forget his talisman there. And so, the trouble with the girl starts.

Mood for this one-shot: It just somehow went from Location by Khalid, went through Let’s Get Lost by G-Eazy and Devon Baldwin and somehow ended up at Tumblr Girls by G-Eazy. But you know the drill, listen to what you like to.

Warnings: I might get too carried away by smut. I did an oopsie. 

“Don’t ask me why,” Sully said to the cell phone he had pinned to his shoulder with his head. He was smoking a cigar, calling someone and shaving at the same time. His mind was blown away not even a half an hour ago and he was actually curious about how many things he can multitask at once. “But Imma not gonna come tonite.” 

“But we’re finishing the last pieces of the gig!” A woman with an Australian accent shouted back. She seemed to be mad at him and Sully couldn't say even a word back. They were almost done, after all, and he will be missing during the most important meeting of all. “You know how useless can you be when you get the intel on paper and not personally!”

“I just can't come to see ya tonite, Chloe. I have some different things planned.” Except his planes came to the sight before twenty minutes, maybe even less. He wasn’t sure about that. 

Victor just needed his red shirt back, because he didn't feel complete without it. It was his talisman, after all, wasn't it? And a ridiculously hot girl who chewed bubblegum all the time had it on and she asked him to take it off. 

Was he actually mad to miss this opportunity? Bet your best cowboy hat that he wasn't.   

“You suck my blood so much it isn't healthy, Sullivan. You’ll have to count on Nathan to give you the intel. But I'm genuinely scared of the idea, God knows what would he tell you,” Chloe answered in a seriously irritated tone. 

She and Charlie Cutter were usually the brains of the operation, Sullivan was the money giver and transport reinsurer and Nate was used to be the dumb monkey and muscle. 

“Why couldn't you choose any other day?” She asked when Sully shouted a curse word out loud. He cut his chin on a place where it seriously hurt and he almost killed himself, when he jumped over a stool in his bathroom while he searched for a piece of toilet paper to stuck on the wound. 

“Some plans just come without expectation, love.” He answered when he saved himself from bleeding out. 

“Okay. But you'll need to study OUR plan then, don't forget about that.” She finally gave up and hung the phone. Sully finally got the time for himself to have a quick shower, put some cologne on and to choose clothes to not look like an old archeologic discovery. 

He settled down on a plain white t-shirt, his bomber which he wore while he was driving on a motorcycle and some old pair of jeans. He looked like a man close to his forties, he couldn't lie to himself. But at least he had some personal style.

And Y/N looked like she was into him, so he wasn't worrying as much as he would normally do. Having a woman of her age showing him some affection gave him boost on his pride and gave him some sort of confidence. 

Okay then, he answered her text finally. He was smiling wickedly to the screen of his phone while his tongue was stuck out a bit. Just tell me the place where we'll meet. I'll be there. 

Again, he wasn't waiting too long for a response. She just shared her location with him and he was more than kindly willing to see her. So Victor took his car and went on a short drive to see her. 

He came on the address that she sent to him after not even twenty minutes, looking at a house, there was a seriously loud party on. He had to say that he was disappointed. He looked forward to being alone with her; he really did. 

Not to mention countless scenarios brushing over his head. His imagination was more than kind when it came to those things. Which things, you might ask?

Things like having that girl sitting on his lap in that shirt which was his, slowly taking it off while her smile became larger because she could see the things she caused him, that beautiful pain in his lap. The slow blinking of her eyes while they became darker with lust while she took the jeans off her body, throwing them far, far away. Victor closed his eyes as he inhaled slowly, crawling off his car after that. 

There was a house full of people. Full of young chicks who were smiling at him while they sipped their beer with devils in their eyes. Some pop song was on and there were a few couples dancing, making out in a wild pace; everyone could see that they'll be in the bedsheets together in the next twenty minutes. 

Victor was never actually fond of parties. Yet he didn't seem to be the man, he liked to be with a woman in private, just him and her, not on a loud place, maybe on a walk or on a dinner. Not even at his marina days, which happened twenty years ago, he wasn't actually a party animal. 

The guys seemed to be amused by him; he was at least twenty years older after all. They were all buffed, all young and they seemed to be the funny ones, the cleverest in the whole world and the perfect lovers for someone like Y/N. And he was just there, an old man trying to look cool. 

Maybe he was reading to her in a bad way after all? Maybe he heard what he wanted to hear? Maybe she wasn’t into that idea? 

He almost turned around and walked off the house, letting her to keep his favorite shirt. But then he saw her. 

Well, at first he saw that shit which belonged to him. The shirt showed more and more as she jumped during the dance. Y/N was dancing on the table with another girl, in short, denim shorts and his shirt on, her ponytail was swinging from side to side and her eyes were partially closed as she sang the lyrics. 

He leaned onto a wall, smiling lightly as he watched her. She was smiling, dancing on the table and the youth was dripping from the tips of her fingers. Sometimes, she grabbed that second girl, pushed her body onto hers and put her hands onto the girl’s ass, sliding them into her back pockets.

“You're her dad or what?” A girl leaned next to him and offered him a cup of beer, watching Y/N on the table, putting the show-off. 

“Do I look like her dad?” Sullivan asked with amusement, taking the offered cup and smiled at the girl. She was a redhead with huge glasses on, yet she didn't look like a nerd. It made her round face cute and it just got along with her personal style. 

“If you are, she has an incredibly handsome dad, I must say,” redhead took a sip from her cup and then she trailed her look back to Y/N. “She’s always like that.”

“Seems to be funny enough to me,” Victor answered as he took another sip. He was becoming more and more thirsty as Y/N took the other girl’s to face into her hand, motioning that she might kiss her, yet she didn't. 

“If you like her, you better stop and you should find someone different. She’s almost unreachable for most of the guys out here. And, no offense, old pal, but you're definitely far after zenith for a girl like Y/N.” The girl patted his shoulder as she left him standing there. 

The song finally stopped and Y/N threw her hands into the thin air as the people around them started to clap. Then she high-fived the girl and accepted one boy's hand as he helped her to get off the table. Then she noticed him standing next to the door. Y/N felt as her smile grew a bit larger. She was drunk at that point; she always was when she was on a party of this type. 

Normally, she wouldn't be able to even foreshadow having something with a girl, but when she was drinking, she didn't care. When she was this level drunk, she was able to kiss literally anyone.

Or at least before. Now, she has one particular person on her mind. She wasn't truly believing that Victor will come there to see her. She thought he might not have the balls to strip the shirt off her. But she smiled when he truly came. 

“Hey there, washing lady,” Victor offered her his cup of beer because she seemed to be thirsty as hell. She didn't hesitate at all, drinking almost all of that beer. Y/N seemed to be really gentle, small and cute next to him. He was a giant next to her and that caught the attention of a few girls, including the redhead, and a lot of boys. Nobody actually believed that she would be into that guy, but these things happen.

“I'm glad ya here,” she threw her hands over the back of his neck, looking him to the eyes. Victor leaned in, forgetting all about him being a gentleman, putting his fingers into the back pocket of her denim shorts, bringing her lap closer to his. 

“Well, you told me to take the shirt off. Who am I to not to listen to a lady's wish?” Victor looked into her eyes as she smirked. He felt the redhead just focusing her stares in his direction and he was really proud to prove her wrong. 

Without any foreshadowing, she just leaned in and kissed him. Their lips crushed hard and he could feel her heat just slowly trailing his body as well. She was definitely drunk as hell, but Victor wasn’t complaining. It gave her the courage he liked and pushed him further as well. 

“Come then. I’m not able to wait for you any longer. You let me hang on for almost a week and you didn't come to wash your clothes in the meantime,” Y/N whispered with her eyes pinned to Sullivan’s, taking the cup out of his hand.

She tugged his hand as she navigated them through the house. Victor felt the stares surrounding them and yet he wasn't more proud until that day. 

They took a short hike on the stairs and Victor let her take the lead. She was looking around, changing short looks with other people. Every second she checked Victor. She was afraid that he would leave even tho he was holding her hand in a tight grip. He wasn't planning on leaving her there at any circumstances. 

Finally, she found a bedroom without anyone inside and she let out an animalish growl as she turned around and slammed the door shut, locking them. The music was loud so much Victor couldn't even hear his own thoughts which was actually a good thing. He didn't want to be bothered with his own thoughts. There was no space for rationality at the moment. 

It all happened so fast. Heated kisses stopped only when there was a need to breathe, fingers circled in his air and a smell of desire and passion in the air. Only growls mixed with the music could be heard in the thin air. His bomber flew off his body in an instance, just laying down on the ground just so he could feel her hands roaming his body. 

Then the shoes and socks left their bodies at an equally fast pace, disappearing into the unknown. There was no need for words, no need for anything. There was only her and him alone in a room and desire was burning on each of them.

"What the hell are you doing to me? Just rip the shirt off, stop teasing me, Victor." She begged into his lips and tried to take the shirt and take it off by her own force. Victor immediately stopped her, holding her wrist in a tight grip.

“You're so impatient, young lady,” Victor whispered as he pushed her and let her fall directly on the bed. “You need to learn some patience,” Sully whispered with a voice sounding more like an animal than himself. He had to say that he really adored that a young girl of her nature was able to do that to him. 

He learned how to have his own nature under control while he was in the marina. It looked like if it happened a hundred years ago, it was more than ten years ago and even now, sometimes the man who was working as a marina soldier showed up in him. Especially in times like this.

Victor wouldn't describe this part of himself like a dominant or selfish part, not at all. He just became sure in everything he has done, he was direct and he knew a few ways how to make her scream under his touch. All it took for her was a will to listen. 

“And if I don't want to be patient and I'll be a naughty girl?” Y/N asked as she swung on her knees, taking his belt to her small soft hands, trying to undo it with the grace of a horny beast. 

Victor held her wrists with a small effort to that touch, only a little push was needed to knock her off on her back, pushing his body directly on hers and letting his face rest in front of hers. He stayed in that position a while, he listened to her heartbeat and the rhythm of how she breathed. 

Y/N looked like a painting with her face full of the sweet expectations, she had rosy cheeks and a naughty light in her eyes. Her lips were swollen because of the urgency of the way he kissed her and he felt how much was her body trembling under his weight. 

She was sweet like honey and intoxicating like a shot of alcohol. His head was spinning a bit and if he couldn't feel the heat in between her legs, which was burning through their pants, he would stay in this position for forever. 

“Then I would have to use some methods which are used when I'm taming a little baby girl like you are,” Victor answered in a low, perfectly husky tone even though the voice was raspy and it was stuck inside of his throat. 

He lowered his hands after he made himself sure that she would stay in a position with her hands above her head, kissing her throat hungrily as he made a few of love marks and bites here and there. Victor couldn't help himself, some urge inside of him directly needed to mark her as his, for everyone to see when they left the room. He also expected her to stop him, but when she closed her eyes and panted in a sweet high tone, he knew that he's doing the right thing. 

His hands slowly lured over her, unfortunately, still clothed, body, caressing it through the fabric of his most beloved shirt. With a quick movement, he took off his white shirt and threw it all over the small bedroom. Y/N didn't even give him a quick look, because she used her own hands to unbutton the shirt. She slipped out of it, standing on her elbows and finally watched, how handsome he was. 

He was in good shape, without a doubt. His shoulders were really wide as the muscles were appearing perfectly clearly under his suntanned skin. He was scared and bruised in many places; her favorite was a light, yellow bruise under his left armpit. His body was through a lot and she knew it; he told her about what he does for a living. It wasn't a thing to wonder about.

“You are like some fucked up fantasy,” she whispered under breath when she touched Victor's chin while he unbuttoned her shorts. “Can I be your little dirty  kink?” 

“Let me taste and then we'll see, baby girl,” the shorts and panties were far gone now, as she lay in front of him with her legs opened to show him everything Y/N got. She was basically sinking into the mattress, even the little valley dividing her sweet fanny was wet. She was breathing heavily as he watched her, almost waiting for permission. 

Without any other things popping up in his head, he just leaned forward, showing his head directly to the place she was dripping from. His tongue was fast, rough and that's what she needed so badly. She screamed to the roof and leaned from him in a wave of pleasure; so his forearms circulated around the top of her thighs, holding her directly on his face. Victor wanted this girl to be his death and that was a thing he never wanted before. 

He wished to slowly drown in her dripping pussy, he wanted to close his eyes and slowly fall into the warmth of her lap, letting the tightness slowly choke him. Victor would accept all of that with a graceful smile. None of this was forced. He couldn't even remember a single time when he was kneeling in front of a woman, licking and sucking her like he was about to die and her pussy was the last thing that could save him. He growled into the sweetness as he was trying to get more of that juice. 

After a while, her body found its rhythm, slowly moving in the tempo of his tongue as her hand slowly risen up and twirled in his hair, tucking it gently. Her sweet pitches were the thing that was heating up to go further and further, even though his tongue and jaws were hurting.

“No, no, no,” Y/N said in a shaky voice. She tugged his lips from the hottest spot on her body and Victor looked at her with confusion. Was he too rough? Why didn't she tell him that he's not doing her good? What could be done better? “I want to come on ya, Texas. Take those fucking jeans off and just do me good with that dick you're hiding down there.” Y/N leaned in for a short kiss, tasting her own flavor from his lips. 

“I don't believe ya that ya haven't fucked woman in the woods. I mean, look at ya.” She said as she sat down on her ass and started to take her bra off, taking it with the shirt and throwing it on the ground.

“Look at me?”

“You look like a playboy, Texas. Your body just screams that you just lean woman on a tree and fuck the soul out of her body.” She smirked as she lied on her back, circling her fingers around the top of the bed. 

“I mean, I haven't tried it yet,” Victor smiled when he kicked his jeans on a nearby bookcase. He climbed on the bed in between her legs, watching as her breasts moved up and down. “But if you're up to this sort of things, you can teach me.”

“Fuck me hard, mister Sullivan and then well see,” she whispered in a quiet tone. He mumbled shirt curse word under his breath; he hadn't think about condoms until this minute. 

“Just do it, Texas,” she wiggled her hips from side to side with a smirk of a naughty girl. “I'm on my pills.” 

He didn't need any other words. This was everything he needed to hear. He wanted to fuck the words out of her mouth and the teasing out of her head. Victor took her left hand in his right, entwining their fingers together and crashing his lips into hers as he slowly buried himself inside of her. No words were needed at that moment. It was just the two of them, breathing, sighing of a high woman and animal man growls and the song downstairs just slowing down and thrifting into another one. 

He wasn't gentle with her at all. He was bouncing into her in a rough, quick tempo, he wasn't holding back anything. She was moaning his name with grace and gratefulness, being completely full of his dick. One of their hand was entwined with each other, holding each other in a tight grip, the second one was holding on the headboard od the bed, trying to hold it tightly from moving. 

They were already heard all over the second floor and they knew that, but nothing could stop them at that point.

Her little valley was burning hot and wetter than Niagaras, her boobs were jumping in the tempo which their bodies were moving in. She tilted her head backward, closing her eyes with a sweet symphony out of her mouth. Victor leaned into her throat and started to bite into the tight, firm skin she got there.

They weren't too far from achieving the heights of orgasm. At one point it seemed that she wasn’t able to even breathe as she whined and shaken bit, holding him close by putting her leg on his waist. He could feel her little sanctuary where he was buried tightening in light vibrations at first, just as those words escaped her mouth. 

“I'm about to come, Texas.” 

And that's what made the bomb inside Sullivan just wildly go off. He wasn't gentle with her until that point, but now he went fully in, fucking her into the mattress like a machine. Her body just moved into his as she arched her back and shook her head as the sounds were just escaping her mouth. They went higher and higher as the closed her eyes firmly and all of a sudden...

“Oh my fucking God, Victor!” Y/N screamed loudly out of pure extasy as her body shaken firmly, she held him in her arms as he continued on fucking her to release himself; now holding the head of the bed in his arms as the sweat was pouring from him onto her skin. 

Y/N was lucky enough to find a new level of ecstasy with him. Normally, the guys stopped when she was done, just handling their boners on their own; but Victor wasn't that kind of guy. He wanted to mark even on the place where no-one could see it. Her pussy was wet and handling him so good that he hadn't got any reason to stop until he felt, how the energy is released from him. 

Then, after all of that, he slowly put his forehead on hers, trying to catch his breath. He didn't even notice how wet both of them are because of the sweat and how red her cheeks were. She was still holding his back, trembling a bit, her eyes were closed. She held herself close to him, her pussy was holding his dick, her thighs were holding his waist and her hands were on his back. 

He could finally see what he caused to her - the left side of her neck was practically violet, full of bloody love marks and bites; there were a few on the other side of her neck as well, but not as much as on the other side.

“Are you alright, baby girl?” His palm slowly smoothed her wet hair, definitely released from the ponytail. 

“I've never experienced anything as good as this, Texas,” Y/N said quietly as she kissed him slowly, with that tender, post-sex passion. Sully slowly crawled out of her body, lying next to her, watching her slowly turning to lay on her belly. 

“So you asked if you could be my kink, did you?” Sully trailed his hand from her shoulder to her waist, gently caressing the skin of per perfectly shaped bum. She nodded, smiling into her forearms. “I'm sure you can. But what now?” 

“What about just take the clothes on and leaving this place together? Take me wherever ya want, Texas.” She sat, searching for her panties and denim shorts. 

“God. I want to fuck you again as soon as I can.” Sully whispered as she slowly put her bra on, hiding it underneath his white t-shirt and that motorcycle bomber. Her hair was all around her face in long waves and she was smiling, still having rosy cheeks and sweaty forehead. 

“So come on, we’ll see what we can do about that.” She tried to speed him up while he was taking his boxers and jeans on. When he was all tidily done, she took his hand in hers, taking him out of the house. Sullivan couldn't describe the pride when she moved her hair so every single person could see her marks. She showed them as war scars, she wore them proudly. 

So they left together that day. And the days after as well.