The rain-slicked streets of Gotham had always been your cradle. Commissioner Gordon found you at fourteen—curled behind a dumpster in the Narrows, knuckles split from a fight you hadn’t asked for, eyes too old for your face. He’d wrapped his coat around your shoulders and driven you to Wayne Manor himself.
Bruce adopted you the next week. Paperwork, a room on the third floor, a trust fund you never touched. The family smiled at the press conference, called you “sister” for the cameras, then went back to their orbits. Dick was off-planet half the year. Jason was busy resurrecting himself. Tim buried himself in case files. Damian trained like the world would end if he stopped. Bruce… Bruce was Batman. You learned early that “daughter” was a title, not a presence.
You became furniture.
So you left the manor the way ghosts do—quietly, nightly, slipping out the library window after lights-out. You weren’t running toward anything. You were just tired of being the only one in the house who didn’t have a mask that fit.
That was the night Selina found you.
You’d taken a shortcut through the old meat-packing district, hood up, fists already bruised from the night before. Three men cornered you for your jacket. You swung once—sloppy, desperate—and the biggest one laughed, backhanding you into the bricks.
A shadow dropped from the fire escape like liquid night.
“Boys,” Selina purred, whip cracking once, “didn’t your mothers teach you to play nice?”
She dismantled them in twenty seconds flat. Then she crouched in front of you, green eyes sharp behind the domino mask, and tilted your chin up with a gloved finger.
“Kid,” she said, voice softer than velvet, “you hit like you’re apologizing for existing. That’s cute. Also gonna get you killed.”
You spat blood. “What do you care?”
She smiled, slow and feline. “Because I see myself. And I don’t like unfinished business.”
That was the beginning.
She never asked for your name at first. Just called you “little sister” like it was already decided. Every night she met you on rooftops, teaching you how to breathe through a punch, how to turn pain into momentum, how to smile while your knuckles split. She brought you protein bars and stolen chocolate, listened when you talked about the empty dining room at Wayne Manor, and never once told you to go home.
“You’re not broken, kid,” she’d say, wrapping your bleeding hands. “You’re just unclaimed. There’s a difference.”
Months blurred. You fought in back-alley rings first—illegal, bloody, cash-only. Then you won. Then you won bigger. Then you started organizing. The underground circuit needed someone who could keep the cops out, the bets fair, and the fighters alive long enough to collect. You became that someone. The Shadow Queen, they called you. Masked, hooded, voice modulator low and steady. No one knew the girl under the hood was Bruce Wayne’s forgotten daughter.
The fighting ring grew teeth. Warehouses in the Bowery. Betting apps routed through three countries. A code of conduct stricter than the GCPD: no killing, no weapons, medical on site. You ruled it with an iron fist wrapped in Selina’s grace. And every time you stepped into the cage, you felt her watching from the rafters—your big sister, proud and feral.
You hadn’t been back to the manor in six months.
The Batfam noticed eventually. Of course they did. When their own underground sources started whispering about a new queen running the most efficient illegal circuit Gotham had ever seen, they started digging.
They found the connection to Catwoman on a Tuesday.
The interrogation room beneath the Clock Tower was cold. Selina sat cuffed to the table, legs crossed like she was at brunch, tail of her suit flicking lazily. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, and Batman himself stood in a half-circle. The air was thick with tension and Bat-glares.
“Where is she?” Bruce’s voice was gravel.
Selina examined her nails. “Who, darling?”
“You know who,” Tim snapped, sliding a tablet across the table. Security footage: you—hood down for once—stepping out of a blacked-out SUV outside the newest arena. “Our sister. The one running the Shadow Ring.”
Jason’s helmet tilted. “We’ve been looking for months. She’s good. Too good. And you trained her.”
Damian’s katana rested against his shoulder. “If you harmed her—”
Selina laughed, bright and unbothered. “Harmed her? I gave her what you lot never did. A purpose. A family that actually showed up.”
Dick stepped forward, voice gentler. “Selina. Please. She’s our family. Bruce’s daughter. We… we messed up. We want to bring her home.”
Selina’s eyes softened for half a second—then sharpened again. She leaned forward, cuffs clinking.
“Home?” she echoed. “The place where she ate dinner alone for two years? Where none of you noticed when she stopped coming to galas? Where the only person who ever asked how her day was… was me?”
The room went still.
Bruce’s jaw flexed. “Selina—”
She cut him off with a wink. Slow. Deliberate. Full of older-sister mischief.
“Tell my little sister I said hi, Bats. And that the new venue in the Narrows needs better ventilation.”
Then she moved.
One fluid twist—something small and silver slipped from her glove, a pellet no bigger than a marble. Smoke exploded in a soft pop, sweet and cloying. The Bats surged forward, but Selina was already gone—cuffs empty, chair spinning, the high window grate swinging open like it had never been locked.
Her laughter echoed down the alley outside, fading into the Gotham night.
“Catch me if you can, boys. But you’ll never catch her unless she wants to be caught.”
The smoke cleared.
The table was empty except for a single playing card: the Queen of Hearts.
Scribbled on the back in elegant script:
She’s not lost, little bats. She’s finally found.
Somewhere across the city, in a warehouse lit by red neon, you stood in the center of the cage, sweat on your skin, crowd roaring your name. Your mask hid the small, secret smile.
You felt her out there—your older sister, watching, proud.
And for the first time in your life, you weren’t invisible.
Synopsis: The Bats were on a takedown mission. Tim was in the Batcave, disabling security systems, giving intel, and being seduced by a criminal who came through his screen??
W.C: 2.8k
Tags: Smut ❀ p in v, unprotected sex, questionable usage of energy drink, seduction, manipulation?, dubcon?, cowgirl, grinding
You were getting very frustrated. Everything was going fine. Your bosses were happy with your work and you were being paid good, dirty money. Now, these stupid vigilantes are getting involved and causing a hassle. If there's a hassle it's up to you to solve it and if there's a hassle your bosses stop feeling generous and hold onto your money.
So here you were, sitting in a dingy basement typing away and furiously clicking your mouse. You screamed into the com for your "co-workers" to move their asses and get all the cargo loaded before the animal-themed vigilantes show up and start beating their asses.
"Vi! I can't I busted up my knee last week!"
"Jimmy, I don't care if you injured your knee last week. I'm telling you to haul ass so you better start fucking hauling ass!" You screamed into the headset. These buffoons were pissing you off. Their constant remarks of "well why do you care?", because if they get caught then that's a step closer the crime fighters are to you. And even more devastatingly, a step further your paycheck is from you. You removed the headset and groaned. A hand ran through your hair. You leaned back in your desk chair and stretched your back. You hated all of this. But money is money. And the little thrill you got was nice too.
You have this weird ability. You're basically a virus, hence the name Virus or Vi (sometimes). You can merge yourself into any kind of technology and the internet. You can travel through it. From the left monitor to the right monitor like a cursor. Or from your monitor to a security camera in Berlin. The possibilities were honestly endless. When you were a kid your school took the class to a lab as a day trip. A couple of the kids were messing around and it resulted in you getting knocked into a few live wires and nearly dying via electrocution! Ever since then, you've had these abilities. So much can be done with the Internet at your fingertips. Not much information can be hidden from you. On top of having powers, you're rather smart if you do say so yourself.
A sudden crash had you shooting back up. You stared at the monitors displaying security camera feeds. Several vigilantes had broken into the base.
"Those motherfuckers..." you grumbled as you put your headset back on. You quickly started the alarm. A blaring noise rang through your headset. Red lights flashed on your screen, doors shut and your boss's goons finally started hauling ass. It was too late though, they were already at the base.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." You dragged your hands down your face.
'Boss is gonna kill me.' You frantically scanned the cameras and triggered every lock in the base. Doing whatever you can to keep them away from your "co-workers" until they finished the job that should've been done 20 minutes ago!
No matter what you did the vigilantes kept bypassing all the security systems. Which hurt because you made them. How were they doing it? You squinted at the screen as the group of criminals barked orders at each other and tossed cargo into the vehicles. A man in black and blue; Nightwing, held his hand up to his ear.
'They're wearing earpieces, which means they've got someone behind a desk.' You typed rapidly, searching your system for something new, someone who wasn't supposed to be there. As long as this person was still hacked into your system you'd be able to find them.
"There you are." You stood up, your chair rolling back. Even if the user and their information were hidden, nothing was truly hidden from the Internet. It would take longer than usual, but you'd be able to find them. You hoisted yourself onto your desk and placed your hands on the monitor screens. They became pixilated and eventually vaporised into the system. The rest of your body followed suit.
The Internet was a fun place. It was so colourful, but also so disgusting. You stood in a pixilated void and searched for the red wire that you needed to follow. The wire floating in the abyss glitched. You ran alongside the wire, following it to its home. You used your smart watch to bypass any security this foreign account had set up. Now that you were thinking about it, what were you going to do when you got there? Let's be so serious you would not win the fist fight. This trip's going to take a hot second, you've got time to think.
Tim was sitting in the Batcave, Barbara had other matters to attend to so Tim was made to stay behind and fill the position of Oracle. He was kinda excited about it. He wouldn't admit it to the rest of them because they'd definitely give him shit for geeking out over a criminal. But come on! Virus was really well known amongst computer nerds. You had to give credit where credit was due. Even Babs had good things to say about them. They were an entity, never caught. The thought that he could hack into their system and be the one to take them down was thrilling.
He was watching camera feeds, disabling the security system you designed and feeling smug about it.
Until his screens started to flicker.
"What the?!" He screeched.
His screens glitched. Some shut down completely. He frantically tried to fix whatever mess was occurring. A few monitors turned back on but they just ended up flickering too. The screen directly in front of him lit up, brighter than it should've. Tim held his arms up to shield his eyes from the light. In between his limbs, he could make out a figure.
'What the hell?' He thought. The pixilated figure manifested into a proper body and latched their hands onto the armrests of his chair.
"Hey."
'Is that it? Is that all you have to say?' Tim was crashing out. What the hell was happening? You vaporise out of his computer and just say "hey" like it's a casual Tuesday. You both stared at each other, frozen and in a trance.
"Uh—so I didn't really plan out what exactly I was going to do when I got here," you stopped your rambling as you caught his eyes lock onto your cleavage for a brief moment. You were leaning over so he had a full view down your top. It gave you an idea. "But it's fine, you're cute." You smiled.
Tim sat in disbelief. He should probably fight you off and go back to work but honestly, he didn't want to leave this compromising position. Then a thought crossed his mind. He was just hacking one of Virius's security systems—a criminal who's never been caught—and now a woman has just appeared through his screen.
"Wait a minute—are you, Virius?"
This is not what he was expecting. When most people think of hackers they think of men with neckbeards in their mother's basement or ratty teenagers with chunky glasses. Not a hot woman who has crawled out of your screen and is now perched on the ledge of the desk, hands on your armrest.
Tim's cheeks flushed. He tried to look away but once again got distracted by your chest, now being pushed tighter by your upper arms. You titled your head to the side. In that moment he caught sight of the others stuck in the crime base. His senses came back and he could hear them all screaming into the coms for him.
"Tim!"
"Red Robin!"
"What's going? Is everything alright?"
"We don't have all day!"
Shit. He still needed to disable your security system fully. They needed him.
In a few swift movements, you tossed his headset to the side and hopped onto his lap. He couldn't help but moan at the impact of you landing on him. His hands latched onto your hips to push you off, but he couldn't do it. Your nails dug into his shoulders. You hadn't planned on seducing him in order to fix this mess, but here you were, sitting on Red Robin's lap with soaked panties. Fuck he was hot.
"Yes I'm Virius, just call me Vi!" You gave a faux smile, trying to distract him from the voices in the headset. He continued to not pay full attention to you though.
"Oh come on Red, you're not going to choose work over this?" You hand crept up his neck and gripped his throat like a vice. He gasped as your breasts pushed into him when you leaned to his ear. "I'll let you win, you can do whatever you want to me." Your breathy whisper was almost enough to make him combust right there. Subconsciously, his hands began to massage your waist and your hips began to roll. He groaned as his eyes flickered to the glitching screens.
"My guys won't hurt them. They're just moving some things." You rested a hand on his heart and another played with his hair. You grabbed a fistful and forced him to look at you. Your whole body halted. You almost laughed at the way he rutted into you. "I promise baby." A devious smile graced your face.
Tim was looking at you like you'd just promised him the greatest head of the century. He was forming a bulge and hes never felt so guilty about something. Was he really about to let this criminal seduce him? Leaving his family—who are geniuses and in defence of his future actions could probably hold their own—to find for themselves...
"If you don't trust that my guys won't hurt them, I'll send a message instructing them not to."
...yes he was about to do just that. They'd all spent years in training, they'd be okay for a few minutes. You giggled at the feeling of his boner underneath you.
"What do you say Red?" Fuck it. He slammed his lips into yours. You both groaned into the kiss and you resumed your grinding and his rutting. The chair rolled towards the desk, your hand steady on the ledge pulling you forward so you could keep your promise and send the message on.
The makeout was sloppy, inexperienced on both ends. It didn't take long for clothes and costumes to be discarded. You were both left in your underwear. Tim's skin was covered in light scratch marks and blooming bruises. His hands roamed your body, massaging you as you sucked on his neck, just by his Adam's apple. His eyes rolled back as he let out a moan. His dirty and pleasurable thoughts were interrupted by screaming coming from his discarded headset.
"Tim! What the fuck is going on man?!"
"Tim—Tim what is going on? Responded now!"
"Is the line disconnected or something?"
His eyes shot out wide. What is he doing!? You're a criminal! But fucking hell were you hot. And making him so good. He caught sight of one of the goons knocking Damian off a platform in the warehouse. Thankfully, he landed with no injuries but it brought Tim back to reality for a moment.
You notice him tensing beneath you. His eyes weren't in the back of his head anymore they were focused on the few working screens behind you. Shit. You needed to get his attention back on you. Your idiots won't get away otherwise and then you won't get paid and then you won't be able to afford rent! You mind spiralled through all the dodgy porn links you had come across over the years, trying to think of something you'd seen that would bring back his attention. As quickly as the flash you picked up the opened energy drink on the desk and took a swig before pulling him into a French kiss. You tugged his hair with one hand and held the can in the other.
Tim pulled back with a gasp, and some of the drink dribbled down his chin. You wasted no time licking it up. Tim—much like the rest of the night—was at a loss for words.
"Hold this." The can was promptly shoved into his grasp. He sat dazed and horny, holding onto a can like his life depended on it as you unclasped your bra. He felt like a virgin, his jaw dropped at the sight of your bare chest. You gripped his hand and guided it towards your chest. Can still in hand you tilted his hand. He watched as the sugary liquid poured down onto your skin. It flowed through your cleavage. While he was distracted you shoved his face into your chest.
"Clean it up Red." You demanded and that just made him hornier. He began licking up the drink like some kind of dog. He sucked the droplets off your chest. He savoured the sweet taste mixed with the salty taste of you. He handed the can off to you and pulled you impossibly closer by the waist. He sucked and bit your skin, licking the bites after to soothe the sting. He suddenly bit down on your nipple causing you to shriek in pleasure and drop the can. The metal clattered on the ground and spilt the remaining contents. Both of your hands were tangled in Tim's hair as he kissed and sucked on your chest.
"Oh fuck, I need you." Your whines caught Tim off guard. He pulled away from your chest and looked into your eyes. One hand reached for his boxers and began to pull him free. He froze. If this happens there's no turning back—we'll there's not much turning back from what's already happened, but what if he gets an STI? What if you get pregnant? Then Bruce will know and then—
"Please?" Oh no.
His cock springed free from his boxers. You pushed up at your knees and moved your panties to the side. Your nails clawed into Tim as you sank down. A sigh escaped you once you adjusted, you quickly began to thrust yourself up and down onto his cock. His hands remained on your waist as he watched you bounce.
He swallowed thickly and threw his head back letting out a groan. "Oh shit..."
Tim started meeting you halfway. The Batcave was filled with sounds of you skin on skin and moaning. Tim would need to remove that security footage later. Time took notice to your eyelids twitching paired with you panting.
"Oh my god—" You gasped, burying you face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around your frame as you both continued thrusting. Tim was red in the face trying to not to cum before you. He only pulled out after your body went limp in his embrace, cum shooting up onto your stomach.
You both sat in a sweaty embrace for a moment before you pulled yourself off him entirely. He had to hold back a whine at the loss of warmth. You leaned against the desk with trembling legs. What were you supposed to do now? You just seduced and had sex (very good sex) with Red Robin in what you assumed to be Batman's lair.
"Ehm..." you played with your hair and avoided his eyes. This was so awkward—they don't teach you how to leave a hookup when they're still conscious in school!
"You better clean this up before your boss finds out."
"Yeah, I really should." Tim nodded still in the bliss of his climax.
You quickly tossed your clothes back on, sheepishly climbing onto the desk.
'I came in here all confident and now look at me!' You gave out in your head.
"I suppose I might see you around?" You hand was already pixelating as you spoke. Tim fixed his suit and looked up at you with rosy cheeks.
"Ye—yeah I suppose!" You smiled at his nerves and disappeared into the computers. The flickered back to life. No more static and glitching. He searched the cameras quickly. The warehouse was empty, meaning they were on their way back.
Tim made quick work of cleaning up the mess; mopping up liquids, hiding his hickeys, removing security footage from the batcomputer (and transferring it to his personal laptop for potential future uses), and doing his best to look normal.
"Tim! What the hell was that!?" Jason yelled as he removed his helmet.
"I don't know! The system got hacked, I couldn't access the cameras and my comm line was cut off—everything was static." He lied straight through his teeth. It was easier than usual, cause parts of it were true.
"You're supposed to be good at this stuff, Drake," Damian commented and he cleaned his blades.
"Guys chill," Dick intervened. "Didn't you say some well-known hacker worked for this organisation?"
"Virus, yes." It felt so strange saying that name now.
"I expect you to look into this and not allow it to happen again," Bruce said sternly.
"Of course." Oh he'd gladly look into you.
A/N: Heyyy, be honest with me about this one bc idk how to feel... I love Tim but every time I try to write something I feel like it's ooc. This is def ooc but oh well🤷♀️ it was always going to be. Tell me your Tim headcanons so I can get better at writing for my man pls🙏
Can you please write an Adrian Chase fanfic where the reader is working with the 11th St. kids as an ex criminal and so like he really doesn’t like her but like he starts to like fall for her, but he doesn’t wanna admit it because she’s a criminal so he’s like mean to her until like he goes too far and then he confesses?
This was supposed to be a one-shot but the more I wrote, the messier and confusing it got, no matter how much I tried to fix it. So, rather than throwing it away entirely, I switched it up to be a headcanon instead which I think I got to work pretty well. I know you were using pronouns like "she" and "her" in your request but I edited it slightly and now it's more gender neutral. Sorry if this isn't what you were expecting but it was the best my brain could come up with.
HEADCANON
Pairing: Adrian Chase (Vigilante) x reader
(A/N: I honestly don't think I could've given reader any more criminal charges than I already have tbh lmao. I obviously sort of came up with this Carter Vale character and how reader was more coerced into crime rather than by choice. Naturally, you can ignore as much of that as possible.)
(A/N 2: it's been altered to reflect a more gender neutral character rather than female but there is a chance that maybe it still gives off vibes of female/super feminine reader which I apologise for.)
_______________
• You've never really landed on whether Waller's deal was a saving hand or a prison without the barred cage
• A salvation or a sentence
•Formerly an unwilling asset for organised-crime broker Carter Vale. 'Recruited' through financial coercion and sustained blackmail — you were subjected to years under Vale's employ
• The charges they had against you because of him piled up high and would have been equivalent to at least an 80+ years sentencing
• Even without Waller's intervention, you'd have still served 25—40+ years minimum if you took a plea deal
• Accessory to armed robbery — Conspiracy to commit cybercrime and data theft — Extortion and blackmail— Racketeering — Money laundering and transportation of stolen goods— Obstruction of justice — Forgery— Counterfeiting — Identity fraud — Conspiracy and criminal association — Accessory to assault/involuntary manslaughter — Unauthorised surveillance/invasion of privacy
• And that's without the multiple charges that are connected to each individual crime
• And that's without those you'd have been charged with multiple counts of
• So, with Waller's deal, your sentence was suspended per ARGUS Directive 12-9B. Your federal pardon is contingent on your continued service, cooperation, at ARGUS — any desertion or unsanctioned activities reactivates all prior convictions in full
• To Waller, you were the only one in the entirety of Carter Vale's circle — his elite, vast crime ring — that was valuable enough to repurpose instead of prosecute
• Wasted talent, she'd told you
• With Carter disposed of and your life now controlled entirely by ARGUS, they were quick with rolling out protocol
• They even referred to you as 'asset' or your file reference, which stung a little
• Plus, you would have thought it easier to refer to you by your name than fucking ARD-A42-09-XG
• ARGUS assigned a Dr. Eve Whitmore to put you through a psych eval — she deemed you stable but required to attend mandatory therapy with her personally
• There were also assessments for skills and health, and they compiled a risk index — good news, they don't think you're going to run
• The final steps included a quick course using firearms and assigning you a field handler
• Our favourite hard-ass, Emilia Harcourt
• It was only natural when you were cleared for field duty that you'd be going with Harcourt to work on Project Butterfly.
• At first, it was going smoothly. Well, as smooth as it could go.
• Meeting Peacemaker, Chris, for the first time at Fennel Fields was something. The guy was like a walking boulder cosplaying the fucking French flag with a tin foil hat.
• "It's camouflage."
•"It's fucking reflective."
• To top it off, his buddy's younger brother was looking at him like he hung the stars and moon — not even in the movies has someone pulled off such an enamoured gaze
• Then as you're all gearing up to stake out, and kill, Senator Royland Goff — his family too, if they present any signs of also being a "butterfly" — some dude dressed way too early for Halloween is staring at the lot of you from behind a bin
• It quickly makes sense that Chris and this guy are friends. Well, acquaintances, really.
• "Nobody told me I had to deal with a fuckin' homunculi."
•"Well, who's saying you gotta deal with them now?"
•"You kidding me? I found a miniature spaceship in the apartment of the chick I had sex with — you guys know — the one who was really into having sex with me? She came like four times?"
• "We know who she is. We don't need to know how much she enjoyed having sex with you."
• "What if it's a clue?"
• "It's not."
• "Okay. I was just trying to slip it into conversation. Hope nobody noticed. My bad. Still. Fucking hate homunculi."
• You blocked out the rest of Chris' and Adebayo's conversation after that, focused on organising the gear they were dropping into the van — that was until Ade's is asking who's the guy "peeking out behind the trashcan"
• You're poking your head out of the open back of the truck before you think as Chris starts.
• "Fuck, it's...it's vigilante. He's trying to be helpful."
Watching the scene unfold before you was a little funny. Harcourt telling him to get out of here, Vigilante's response, and the back and forth between them about being a psychiatrist, rumours of Chris being racist, and how he'd be one by association?
• You're snorting as he waves and runs away that's akin to a skip, his little "catch you guys later," just proves that you'll definitely have to see this guy again
• And unfortunately, it's probably sooner than any of you would like
• Of course, you were right.
• The guy — Vigilante — showed up at Goffs'.
• He fucking followed you.
• You're scoffing from your spot in the van with Adebayo, Economos, and Murn as you overheard the conversation he decided to strike up with Chris, and by proximity, Emilia
• But none of you really stewed in your feelings towards his presence once the Goff family unknowingly revealed themselves to be butterflies to you all
• Chris is ordered to start taking them out. He lined up the shot, finger hovering a breaths width over the trigger but he hesitated. His breathing had picked up and that finger began to softly waver, a tremble.
• Vigilante had taken over when Chris couldn't bring himself to do it — two were kids, for fuck sakes. Or at least still appeared as kids
• He was precise, controlled, cold. He started with the 'kids', then took out the 'wife', yet before he could finish the job, that cunting Judo Master completely fucks the entire operation
• You personally didn't see much of Vigilante after the Goff mission went tits-up. Not that you minded
• He shot a couple of kids and an alien bug while humming a tune. That wasn’t exactly comforting
• You could still hear it sometimes— that quiet hum between gunfire
• You didn’t forget the way his hands didn’t even shake
• But that wasn’t the last you saw of him
• It was like he’d glued himself to Peacemaker’s side after that
• So wherever Chris went, he wasn’t far behind — and by extension, neither was Vigilante
• You didn’t know whether to call it endearing or concerning
• You caught him watching you more often than not
• Like he was trying to figure you out but didn’t know where to start
• Half the time you’d look up and he’d already look away, pretending to check his gun or his gloves or anything else that wasn’t you
• The other half, he didn’t look away at all
• Chris joked about it once. Said you had a “Fan Club President” now
• You told him to shut the fuck up
• Vigilante didn’t deny it
• Just blinked — like he didn’t even realize he’d been caught
• It started off small — him offering you snacks on stakeouts, sitting too close in the van, blurting out weird compliments like
• “You’re really good at loading magazines. Like, suspiciously good. That’s kinda hot.”
• You weren’t sure whether to thank him or report him for harassment
• Eventually, it got harder to ignore
• The way he’d go quiet when you talked
• The way he’d smile under that stupid mask
• The way he’d try to make you laugh and then look proud of himself when he managed it
• But then came the turn
• He found out about your file
• Not through you, not through the team — but through something he wasn’t supposed to see
• You don’t know if he broke into Murn’s office or just got curious enough to dig, but either way — he found it
• Your entire past — every charge, every detail.
• The blackmail
• The forced labour under Vale
• The list of crimes that made you look irredeemable on paper
• You knew something was wrong the next time you saw him
• He wouldn’t look at you
• Wouldn’t talk to you
• And when he did, his words were sharp enough to cut
• “Didn’t realize we were working with a fucking criminal.”
• “Guess we're scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
• “You probably liked it — working with those guys. Bet it wasn’t that unwilling.”
• The others noticed. Chris tried to tell him to back off. Harcourt told him to “stop being a dick.”
• But he didn’t — he doubled down
• Every snide comment, every sarcastic jab — it all landed somewhere between cruelty and confusion
• Because if you looked closely, his anger wasn’t just disgust, it was guilt
• He hated that he still liked you
• That he couldn’t just turn it off because of a few files and a history that wasn’t your fault
• But in his head, it was simple: good guys didn’t fall for bad ones
• So, he told himself you were bad
• Over and over again. Until maybe he’d start to believe it
• He took it too far one night
• Mission went wrong — ambush, chaos, shouting
• You covered him when he slipped up, took a hit meant for him
• And his first words after pulling you to safety weren’t “are you okay?” — they were,
• “You just trying to make up for all that criminal shit? Trying to balance the karma scales or something?”
• You’d been bleeding, adrenaline crashing, patience long gone
• “You think I wanted any of that? You think I chose it?”
• He said nothing.
• “Fuck you, Chase.”
• It was quiet after that
• No jokes, no snacks, no comments. Just silence
• Even harder now that you'd dipped and refused everyone's calls
• Harcourt, although she would get into some shit for it too, knew it'd be worse if you didn't check in soon
• All part of the deal — constant check-ins, no disappearing, stay in contact
•But it's been nearing a whole week since any sign or word from you and if you didn't show soon, she knew Waller would send a team out after you, completely revoking that freedom of yours
• Especially if you missed one more of those mandatory therapy sessions with Dr. Whitmore
• Emilia couldn't keep lying for you, not without putting her ass further on the line than it already was
• So, she forced Adrian to go fix it, seeing as it was his fucking fault
• "Either you come back with them or your fucking coffin measurements, your choice."
• He showed up outside your room at the motel a few nights in a row, hoping to catch you there
• Eventually, he got lucky
• He was there — Vigilante 'fit nowhere in sight, fidgeting, words tumbling out like he was scared if he stopped, he’d never start again
• He was there as just Adrian
• “I shouldn’t’ve said that. Or any of it. I just— I didn’t know how to deal with… liking you.”
• You blinked
• “You have a funny way of showing it.”
• “Yeah. I know. I’m bad at stuff like this. Feelings. They’re… loud. And confusing. And they don’t make sense when someone’s supposed to be bad.”
• “I’m not bad.”
• “I know.”
• “Then stop pretending I am.”
• “I’m trying. I really am.”
• You didn’t say anything after that
• Just watched as he rubbed a hand over his face, eyes red like he hadn’t slept in days
• “I like you,” he admitted finally. “And it pisses me off. Because I don’t wanna. But I do.”
• You didn’t forgive him right away — but it was a start
• After the confession, things shifted. Not all at once — more like the world tilting half a degree at a time
• He still tripped over his words. Still got defensive sometimes.
•But he stopped being cruel
• Instead, he started… trying
• And that was the strangest part — watching Adrian Chase try
• It started with coffee
• The first morning after the talk, you walked into HQ to find your usual coffee sitting on your desk
• “Did Harcourt bribe someone to get this?” you asked.
• “Nope,” she said without looking up. “Your stalker bought it.”
• He was in the corner, pretending to fix his gear bag, shoulders too stiff
• Then it became a routine
• Every morning, your coffee appeared — sometimes with a note, sometimes not
• The notes were stupid
• “You looked really competent yesterday.”
• “Your trigger discipline is like…wow.”
• “Sorry for that time I was emotionally constipated and said mean stuff.”
• You kept them anyway, stashed in a drawer on your desk
• He started texting, too
• Random memes — weird facts about octopuses
• 'Did you know they have three hearts? That’s two more than me but you still broke mine, lol jk unless?'
• You didn’t always reply, but when you did, he sent seventeen messages in a row
• Eventually, it turned into calls
• At first, it was late-night “couldn’t sleep” excuses, then it became habit
• Him talking about his day, about Chris doing something dumb, about nothing at all — just needing you on the other end
• Somewhere between all that, the walls came down
• The bitterness, the guilt, the distance — it all started to fade
• He made you laugh again. Really laugh. The kind that hurt your ribs a little
• You didn’t even realize how much you’d missed that
• Trust took time, but he earned it back
• Brick by brick
• Not because he begged for forgiveness — because he showed it
• The way he’d stand next to you in firefights without hesitation now
• The way he didn’t flinch when someone brought up your past
• The way he looked at you — like you weren’t a weapon or an asset anymore. Just you.
• You caught yourself thinking about him more often
• About his laugh, his weirdly good posture, the way his mask muffled his voice
• You tried to ignore it, but feelings don’t listen to logic — especially when they’ve been growing quietly for weeks
• So, one day, you decided to stop fighting it
• He was working his shift at Fennel Fields that afternoon
• You told yourself you were just “in the area"
• But sitting in that booth, waiting to spot him amongst the tables and servers, heart pounding like you were about to pull a job again — yeah, you weren’t fooling anyone
• So when you did spot him, finally, you're smiling, arms crossed and resting atop the table, elbows perched on the cooler surface
• And when he finally spotted you, it was like watching a Windows 98 reboot happen in real time
• His eyes widened. He froze mid-step, holding a bowl of dirty glasses
• You almost waved, but he already looked like he was about to short-circuit
• Then he was there — a little breathless, like he’d jogged over even though it was ten feet
• “Hey. Uh. You’re…here.”
• “Yeah. Thought I would swing by, y'know.”
• “Oh. Cool. Coolcoolcool.”
• You smiled — small, but genuine
• “I was wondering if maybe you’d want to grab a drink after your shift.”
• He blinked, processing
• “Like a drink drink? With…me?”
• “That’s usually how asking someone out for drinks work, yeah.”
• He went quiet, eyes darting like his brain was buffering.
• Then he nodded too many times
• “Yes. Absolutely. I mean, I’ll have to tell my manager I can’t close tonight because I’ve got—uh—a date.”
• You raised an eyebrow. “A date, huh?”
• “Unless you want to call it a…mission debrief? But with alcohol and eye contact and emotional vulnerability?”
• You laughed
• “Date’s fine, Chase."
• “It’s Adrian,” he said quickly. “If it’s a date, you should call me Adrian.”
• Maybe it was the way he said it — soft, a little shy — but it hit you right in the chest.
• “Alright then, Adrian. I’ll be waiting.”
• And true to your word, you did wait — patiently, offering him small smiles every time he had to pass by, relaxing further into the booth and looking at your phone
• Plus, a server dropped off some cheesy dough balls with a dip
• Even when you told him you hadn't ordered anything, he said someone sent for them for you — which made you smile
• "No good drinking on an empty stomach," Adrian would say later as you're leaving — smile wide, glasses being pushed back up the bridge of his nose
_______________
This could be utter trash bro
So, my bad
But anyways
I hope you liked it
And as always, constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated
stepbrother!harry - in which Harry and you meet six months before your parents are married and there’s immediate sexual tension that neither of you have the power to resist but things are tricky and quite messy
Mint Chocolate Chip (Completed Series)
in which the attractive older man that frequents the ice cream shop you work at has been making dark plans for you and when he finally gets you where he wants you, you’re easier to break than he imagined - dark!Harry content
The Con Artist (Completed Series)
detective!harry x criminal!reader
You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.
Forgive Me, Father (Completed Series)
soft dom priest!harry x subby!reader
Harry is a priest with a dark secret but he's got a big heart and he's looking for someone special to share it with. When Y/n confesses her sins, he thinks she might just be the one.
The Arrangement (Completed Series)
sugardaddy dom!harry x subby!reader
Based on this request - Harry's wife proposes that he find a mistress to meet his needs in the bedroom as she is no longer willing. His wife has 2 rules: The first is that he finds a professional, and the second is that no feelings are to be involved. But both of those rules are thrown out the window when he meets Y/n.
A Good Boy (Completed Series)
stepson!harry x stepmom!reader (both adults)
Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too.But they're both trying really hard to be good.Loosely based on this ask.
A Balancing Act (Completed Series)
this fic is commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo): Y/n is a successful artist with a good head on her shoulders and Harry is a famous popstar in therapy. Navigating a relationship with someone as famous and adored as Harry isn't an easy task but Harry is desperate to make it work once and for all. famous!harry x plus size!reader
Just For Tonight (Completed Series)
this fic is anon commissioned (thank you!! xoxo): Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it? famous!harry x reader
The Unicorn (Completed Series)
Based on this & this. 3 part very mini-series. You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position. Everyone gets more than they bargained for. dad!harry x nanny!reader
Can We Start Over ? (Completed Series)
this 5 part series is commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you!! xoxo): From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? enemies to lovers
Ex-Boyfriend's Dad!Harry (completed)
Harry's your ex-boyfriend's hot dad. But it gets more complicated than just that.
Harry's your ex-boyfriend's hot dad. But it gets more complicated than just that.
It's Good to Be King | mean king!harry
Harry, a handsome, but ill-mannered new king, bound by tradition, must select a queen, and against all expectations, he chooses Y/n, a street beggar. Now, Y/n finds herself caught between the gilded cage of royalty and the cold, harsh simplicity of her past, navigating a court shocked by her presence and a king who revels in the scandal of it all.
The Amateur | ceo!sugar!daddy!harry x burlesque!dancer!yn
Y/n leaves behind her old life for a new one and lands a job as a burlesque dancer in Las Vegas. Things get off to a rocky start, but a handsome stranger offers her something that might just help her out.
Notes | There’s already a part 2 in the works but I’m working on other fics rn so don’t expect it soon lol
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Groggily opening your eyes, you looked around the dark room to try and figure out where you were. When you moved to get up is when you finally noticed your wrists were tied to the arms of a chair. This guy was thorough because he also restrained your ankles and the tops of your shins to each leg of the chair. You groaned at the sting on your skin as you pulled harder against the restraints.
“You’re just going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that.” Your head snapped up when you heard the voice from behind you. Of course it’s him.
“I’ve broken free before. I’ll take my chances.” You replied, continuing to pull on the rope.
“Not from these.” He chuckled and you eyed the intricate knots holding your wrists down.
“What are you a fucking Boy Scout?” You muttered, giving up on your wrists and trying to move your ankles.
“Not quite.” He was closer now. The hairs on the back of your neck rose as you anxiously waited for your captor to show himself. You couldn’t even hear his footsteps. Finally you saw black and blue out of the corner of your eye.
“I didn’t know vigilanties started taking captives.” You said, voice dripping in contempt.
“Just the pretty ones.” He stood in front of you now and you looked up at his face, then quickly rolled your eyes at the smirk on his lips.
“I’m flattered.” You deadpanned. “Why am I here? Has Blüdhaven’s hero finally gone off the rails and resorted to kidnapping? What’s next, are you gonna kill me too?”
“I would never kill you.” He grabbed his bird shaped shuriken and leaned down so his face was just inches from yours. “Maybe some light maiming…” He purred, dragging the tip of the weapon down your cheek. “A little torture- though I reckon you’d enjoy that.” He smirked, using it to pull your bottom lip down. Before he fully released it, he used the edge to lightly split the skin, making you hiss in pain but mostly surprise.
“But that’s not why you’re here.” He said, suddenly standing up. He moved behind you again, then grabbed the back of the chair and started dragging you to the side of the room until your back was to a wall.
“Fuck you, bird boy. Let me go.” You spat indignantly as you pulled on the restraints again.
“Don’t rush things, sweetheart. That’s for later.” He jeered, taking a few steps back, and you scoffed. “But for now… I think I could use a little target practice.” You stared at him with wide eyes, trying to mask fear with anger.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You spat, squirming in the restraints again. He took the shuriken in his hand and tossed it up into the air a little, letting it spin before finally catching it. You froze and clenched your jaw, trying not to show any sign of fear, but he practically had a sixth sense for it.
“Don’t try to act tough. It’s hotter when you’re scared.” He smirked, then quickly threw the weapon at you, making you flinch and let out an embarrassing yelp. You only opened your eyes when you heard it hit the wall behind you.
“What the fuck?!” You screamed, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. He grabbed another one and ran a gloved finger over the edge as he watched you.
“If I were you, I’d stop moving. I’m a little out of practice.” The glint in his eyes made you both nervous and horny. He always makes you feel like that though. Your breath hitched as the second one flew by your face, landing on the wall a little left of your head.
“Good girl, keep that up. Although you could scream a little more for me.” He critiqued you casually, as if he wasn’t currently throwing weapons at your face. And despite your pounding heart and sweaty hands, you could feel warmth pooling in your stomach. You wanted to blame it solely on him calling you a good girl, but you know for a fact that’s not true.
Your chest heaved as you stared at him, watching him reach for another. Sick of the humiliation you felt from being so scared, you tried to get some semblance of power back.
“You must be pretty sick in the head if you’re getting off on this.” Your faux confidence shattered the second the corners of his lips turned up.
“If I’m sick then what does that make you?” He raised his brows as you floundered for a response.
“I- I’m not…”
“Sorry, what was that?” He held the shuriken up behind his ear, pretending to use it to hear you better.
“I am not getting off on this, you sick fuck.” You spat, glaring at him.
“No?”
“N-“ The third shuriken hit the wall before you could even finish, making you gasp. You bit your lip to contain the sounds crawling up your throat.
“So if I checked right now, you wouldn’t have soaked through your underwear already?” He smirked and you gritted your teeth.
“No.” You decreed.
“Well now you’re just lying.” The bastard looked so fucking amused- but doesn’t he always? Anytime you fight, he enjoys riling you up, letting you get a few hits in before easily beating you, always making sure to rub it in during and after.
“Is this the only reason I’m here? So you can get off on trying to scare me.”
“Trying?” He scoffed a laugh, making you huff in frustration.
“Why am I here?” You pressed and he paused, eyes roaming your body as he considered you.
“That’s not the only reason, no.” He said simply, making you even angrier.
“Why?” Your voice was firm as you stared at him, waiting for a response.
“Clearly the cops aren’t equipped to handle you since I’ve handed you over to them six times now, and every time you’ve escaped.” You tried to ignore the way your core ached at how that almost sounded like a compliment. “And since I can’t hold you forever and I’m not going to kill you, I figured a punishment might do the trick.” You scoffed a laugh at that.
“Really?” You deadpanned, raising your brows. He just continued as if you hadn’t even spoken.
“But I knew it had to be a special punishment. One that would really resonate with you.”
“And this was the best you came up with?” You replied in disbelief, poorly containing your laughter.
“I haven’t started the punishment yet. I’m just having some fun fucking with you while also getting you ready for said punishment. Multitasking.” He explained with a shrug.
“So what is the punishment then?” You forced yourself to ask even though you probably didn’t want to know the answer.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. Not unless you ask nicely.”
What the fuck does that mean??
He grabbed another shuriken and you let out a heavy breath. He’s not going to hurt you, you tried to remind yourself.
“I wonder…” His gaze moved between you and the weapon, before he finally held his free hand up to cover his eyes.
“Wait-“ You cut off with a sound that was partly a gasp and partly a whimper when the edge grazed your ear. You stared at him in shock as he removed his hand from his face. “You fucking cut me!” You yelled, feeling the hot sting on your ear.
“Calm down, I barely grazed you.” He scoffed and you clenched your jaw, trying not to explode from anger… and arousal. He walked toward you and leaned down. Taking your jaw in his hand, he turned your head to examine your ear. “So dramatic…” He muttered under his breath.
When he released your jaw, you took the opportunity before he moved away to slam your head into his. It hurt really fucking bad, but the satisfaction you felt from watching a trail of blood fall from his nose made you forget all about it. He brought his hand up to feel, smearing the blood with his finger. You couldn’t help the smirk growing on your face. When he looked away from his finger to your face, his jaw clenched as he let out a heavy breath through his nose.
“Fine. I won’t be nice anymore.” He stood back up and you could hear him grabbing the shurikens from the wall.
“That was you being nice?”
He rounded you again and crouched down between your open legs. He lightly dragged his hands from your ankles to your knees, making your breath hitch.
“W-what are you doing?” You gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. His hands continued up your thighs, painfully slow. “What the fuck are you doing?” You snapped, voice raising in volume. When his hands kept going up, you started pulling on the restraints again.
“I’m seeing if you were lying.” He all but shrugged, glancing at your face before looking back down to your legs. His hands reached the top of your thighs and you took in a sharp breath when he squeezed them. You knew if it was skin on skin, he would’ve been digging his nails into them.
“Kidnapping and now rape? Didn’t know you had it in you.” You said breathlessly, making him release a low chuckle.
“Always so dramatic.” His finger brushed your heat and you choked on a gasp. Finally he removed his hands and you let out a heavy breath. He quickly untied the knots on your legs and then moved to your wrists. When you were sitting there, now fully free, he rose to his feet and took a step back.
“Go ahead. Leave.” You stared at him in confusion as his words repeated in your head.
“What?”
“If you really don’t want to be here, then leave.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. You tentatively got to your feet as you rubbed your sore wrists. You took a small step away from him, never letting your gaze leave him.
“What are you playing at?” You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled under his breath.
“Nothing. If you’re not even a little bit curious about what’s going to happen, then go. I won’t stop you.” You took another step away but froze once his words fully registered. Fuck… you are curious. And the bastard knows it.
You know you should run, not give him a chance to turn you in again. But he said himself that he’s going to try something different. You just don’t know what that something is and it’s killing you. As is the growing knot of arousal in your stomach.
“Tell me.” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No.”
You huffed and looked away from him, then started walking. You only made it a few feet before stopping. Letting out a heavy sigh, you cursed under your breath. This is a monumentally bad idea. Probably one of the worst you’ve had. You turned back to him and watched as he tried to hide the satisfied smirk on his stupid, pretty face. Taking a few steps toward him, you huffed and looked at the ground with a scowl. This is basically like waving a white flag and you fucking hate it.
“Tell me and I’ll stay.” You said quietly.
“But that would ruin the surprise.” He chuckled and you looked up at him.
“I hate surprises.” You deadpanned.
“Not this one.”
He took a step forward and you instinctively moved back. He continued until your back hit the wall. Placing both hands on the wall on either side of your head, he leaned down a little until he was in your space. You bit your lip to hold in the sounds you wanted to make from him being so close.
“Good girl. You made the right choice by staying.” He rasped and your breath hitched at the praise. “Now. I'm not done playing our game yet.” He smirked as he snaked his hand up your torso to the zipper of your cat suit. You let out a shaky breath as he pulled it down at a tortuously slow pace. You could feel your head getting floaty already and he’s barely done anything.
“What game?” You whispered. He gave you a low chuckle and instead of responding, pulled the top half of your suit down your body. Your chest heaved as you watched his gaze trail all over your body. You stood there in only a bra, with your suit hanging around your hips, and even without the clothing, your body was practically on fire.
He pulled you back over to the chair and had your stand in front of it as he kneeled at your feet. You swallowed thickly as his hands burned a trail up your thighs to your hips. Grabbing the suit and your underwear, he slowly dragged them down your legs until they fell to the floor around your ankles. He didn’t even bother removing your shoes to fully undress you.
He maneuvered you to sit on the chair, then angled your hips up so your heat was completely visible to him. You blushed and closed your thighs but he just forced them back open as far as they could go in the chair.
“I don’t want to have to tie you up again, but I will.” He warned and you bit your lip and gave him a small nod. Before standing up, he dragged a finger through your slit, careful not to apply too much pressure. Pulling his hand away, he smirked at your arousal that was now very obviously coating the gloved fingertip, making you flush in embarrassment. He stood up and took a couple steps back as he looked you up and down. You could feel how sweaty your hands were as you gripped the arms of the chair.
“Touch yourself.”
“W-what?” You gasped out, eyes widening in shock. But despite that, your stomach still twisted at his words.
“Do it. Show me how you make yourself come.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he widened his stance.
“I usually have a vibrator for that.” You raised your brows and he gave you an amused smile.
“I’m going to want to see that next time.” He smirked and your stomach fluttered at the thought of a next time.
Tentatively bringing a hand down to your heat, you looked at him for confirmation. You didn’t get any, but his lack of response was confirmation enough.
You let out a quiet gasp when your fingers met your clit. Wasting no time, you started rubbing circles over it, biting your lip to contain your sounds.
“Ready to continue?” He asked and your brows furrowed in confusion but the expression quickly dropped when he pulled out his shurikens. Your hand slowed down as you prepared to object.
“Don’t slow down. I said I wouldn’t hurt you but that is subject to change.” You hesitantly obeyed, maintaining constant, fast circles over your clit as he took a shuriken in his right hand, preparing to throw. You let out a low whine at the image of him handling the weapon and he chuckled.
“Feel free to beg me to stop.” He gave you a small smirk then quickly threw it at you. You let out a loud gasp as you flinched and moved your hand faster. Before you could even say a word, he was already throwing the second one at you.
“Fuck-“ You released a choked moan and quickly bit your lip to stifle it, but the damage was already done.
“What was that about you not getting off on this?” He snickered.
“Shut up.” You grumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. He tossed the third one into the air, then effortlessly caught it.
“Look at how soaked your cunt is, I can see it dripping from here. Bring your fingers down, get them nice and wet.” You let out a loud whine at his words. Tentatively moving your fingers down, you barely had to move away from your clit until you felt your arousal. Your cheeks burned under his gaze, but it only encouraged you.
You brushed your fingers through your slit, just barely dipping inside your entrance before pulling away and bringing it up to your mouth. You sucked your arousal off your fingers and practically beamed at the low groan he released.
“Look at you,” He cooed condescendingly, “I didn’t even have to tell you to act like a whore. It just comes naturally to you, doesn’t it?” Letting out a whimper, you brought your hand back down to your core, this time slipping your fingers inside your entrance with a low moan. You immediately clenched down on the intrusion as your hips bucked into the stimulation.
“Fuck…” You said breathlessly, watching his hungry eyes roam over your entire body.
“Something’s missing…” He pondered, tapping the corner of the weapon to his lips. “Take your tits out.” He gave you a small smirk and despite this being one of the more tame things he’s said tonight, you couldn’t hold down the moan crawling up your throat from his words. You made quick work of pulling the cups of your bra down until they rested below your breasts. The cool air on your now bare nipples made you shiver.
“Good girl.” He purred. Growing needier, you reached a hand up to play with your nipples and pressed the heel of your hand into your clit. Your back arched off the chair as your head tilted back, mouth open in a silent moan. When the shuriken passed over your face, only missing you by a couple inches, you snapped your head back up to look at him with wide eyes.
“Look at me.” His tone left no room for discussion. So you did your best to keep your eyes open and on him. “One more?” He raised his eyebrows and you let out a quiet whimper. Instead of waiting for your answer, he took another shuriken in his hand and eyed you, deciding where to throw.
“How about one more time without looking?” He smirked and you stiffened.
“You fucking cut me last time. No way.” You spat, odium poorly concealing arousal.
“Barely.”
“You still cut me!” He was silent for a moment and you squirmed under his gaze.
“Remember that one night? Gotham Museum of Antiquities?” You stiffened as you immediately recalled what he was talking about.
“That was an accident.” You pleaded, even though you knew he wouldn’t believe you.
“You still stabbed me.” He scoffed.
“On accident!”
“How do you stab someone on accident?” He exclaimed and you huffed in annoyance at the arguing.
“Fine! Go ahead and stab me so we can be even and you can stop bitching about it.” You weren’t serious. You knew he knew you weren’t serious. And yet…
“Fine.” Before you could protest, the weapon was already flying past you, grazing your bicep before hitting the wall.
“Fuck! You fucking dick head- that hurt.” You yelled, removing your hand from your breast to grab your arm. He snickered and walked toward you, grabbing the shurikens from the wall, then returning to his spot in front of you on his knees. He moved your hand to look at the cut.
“I’d hardly say we’re even. But if you apologize, then I’ll let it go.” He did a shit job at hiding his smirk and you rolled your eyes.
“In your dreams, bird boy.” You scoffed. His eyes roamed your face for a moment, then he grabbed your neck and lifted you from the chair. You let out a whine at the loss of your fingers as he pushed you into the wall, holding a shuriken at your side. Right at the exact place where you had stabbed him all those months ago.
“Should I make it even then?” He mused, trailing the cool blade up and down your waist, making you shiver. You reached out to move his hand away, but he quickly grabbed both of your wrists and held them in one hand above your head against the wall. His leg slotted between yours as he pressed his body weight into you, preventing you from moving.
“Hm?” He raised his brows in question but the only sound you could release was a shaky breath. When you felt the sting on your side, you looked down to find a drop of blood trailing toward your hip. He pressed a little harder and that was all it took for you to concede.
“Fine! I’m sorry, okay?” The pressured lightened, but he didn’t remove it from your skin yet.
“Sorry for what?” He smirked, making you huff and clench your jaw.
“I’m sorry for stabbing you.” You muttered, looking away from him.
“I don’t know… I’m not entirely convinced you mean it.” He patronized, pushing the blade into once more.
“Okay! Okay- I’m sorry! I’m sorry for stabbing you- honestly I am.” You cried, trying to move away from the stinging pain on your stomach. He removed the blade entirely and you let out a heavy breath.
“Good girl. I forgive you.” You forced yourself not to scoff or roll your eyes. He brought the weapon up to your face, then trailed the tip of it down your cheek with a condescending smirk.
“Now. Is your cunt nice and ready for me?” You nodded eagerly, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the thought of him being inside you soon. He quickly turned you around and pushed your chest into the wall, making you grunt from the sudden impact. You heard rustling for a few seconds, then felt the blunt head of his cock rub up and down your folds. He used one hand to hold your hips still, as the other lined himself up to your entrance. Not making you wait at all, he slowly pushed inside. You choked on a gasp at the burning stretch, then let out a whine as he just kept going deeper and deeper until his hips were finally flush with your ass. His now free hand also grabbed your hip and he held you against him.
“Fuck- How are you so fucking big?” You whimpered, feeling his grip tighten.
“How are you so fucking tight? I thought you said you were ready for me.” He groaned.
“I thought I was.” You snapped, trying to focus on relaxing around his length. He slowly dragged his cock out until only the tip was inside, then forced himself back in. He repeated that slowly a few times before gradually increasing his speed. With each thrust, you could feel it getting easier to take him until finally all you could focus on was the blinding pleasure.
His hips pistoned into you, each time making you let out short gasps from the impact. You clawed at the wall, scrambling for purchase as his thrusts started to speed up. His grip on your hips turned bruising and you let out a small whimper as it added to the growing arousal in your stomach.
“Please.” You gasped out. No longer able to hold yourself up, your chest collapsed into the wall. You could just barely see him behind you with your cheek pressed to the cold concrete.
“What are you begging for?” He wasn’t even slightly out of breath.
“I- I want to come. Please.” You whined, knees starting to shake from his relentless pounding.
“Not yet.”
“Please!” He let out a dark chuckle that made you shiver.
“You still haven’t figured it out yet?” He asked, amused. When you didn’t respond, he continued, “You’re not coming.”
“W-what? Why not?” You whimpered, tears starting to well up in your eyes from desperation.
“Bad girls don’t get to come.” You should have expected that. After all, he did say this was a punishment.
“I won’t be bad anymore.” You cried, trying to turn your head more to see him better. “Please- I promise.”
“I don’t believe you.” He said simply, making you let out a choked sob. His pace grew more frantic and it seemed like he was getting close- the knowledge made your cunt ache even more.
“Please! I can’t hold it,” You were cut off by a hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you up and against his body, his thrusts never ceasing.
“If you come, I’ll ruin it.” He growled, making you moan.
“Unless you want me to come right fucking now, you need to take your hand off my neck.” The usual attitude in your voice was replaced by an embarrassing breathiness.
“And make it easy for you?” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. After a beat, he spoke again. “How about this? You go one week without commiting a single crime and I’ll make you come.”
“Why- fuck,” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut because of a particularly deep thrust. “Why should I believe you?” You said through a breath, making him chuckle.
“Because I’m not a liar, baby.” To be honest, you didn’t have a reason to not believe him. But you still wanted to come right now, which you made sure he knew.
“But I don’t wanna come in a week, I wanna come now.” You whined and he didn’t respond. After a moment, you mewled quietly, making him chuckle.
“Good choice. Oh also, if I have to ruin it right now, you’re not coming next time either.” You mentally begged him to finally come because you were embarrassingly close, even with the lack of stimulation on your clit.
His thrusts grew more erratic until he let out a low moan and pushed you forward into the wall, keeping you trapped in place as his come filled your hole. You took deep breaths, trying to ignore the way his breath on your neck, the warm come coating your walls, and the twitching of his cock inside you were all adding to your burning need for release. When he pulled out, your knees trembled, but he caught you before you could fall.
“Good girl.” He whispered against your ear, making you shiver. “Keep being good and you can come with me next time.” You nodded even though it wasn’t a question. “Think you can stand?” He asked softly. Putting your full weight on your shaky legs, you held onto the wall as he hesitantly let you go.
He dropped to the ground, keeling in front of you, then parted your legs and put his mouth on you before you even realized what was happening. He lapped up his come that was starting to drip onto your thighs, then worked his tongue inside you. Your hands landed on his head and you pulled his hair, making him groan against you. He made his way to your clit, sucking the it into his mouth for only a moment before pulling away. Your hips bucked forward, chasing the pleasure, and he let out a low chuckle.
“Just a little preview of next time, if you behave.” He smirked. Before you could even think about glaring at him, he was pulling your suit up your body as he stood. He helped your arms into the sleeves, then slowly dragged the zipper up to the base of your neck.
Can you do detective!Mick Schumacher x Criminal!Reader nothing ridiculous, just enough to give Mick a headache. He’s been chasing reader for years but every-time he gets close reader just vanishes again. and obvi they have mad sexual tension because ofc
nyck you're a genius (this lowkey evolved into robin hood!reader i hope that's okay-)
you've been running around committing crimes for years
usually just burglaries of the massive houses and mansions in a rich neighbourhood
you never hurt anybody
nobody ever even saw you
no matter how good their "security system" was, you always managed to override it and get your haul
you're not entirely sure why you do it anymore
you started out because you needed the money and, well, rich people were easy targets
you didn't technically need it anymore
but to be fair, you'd never really kept more than you needed
anything you didn't need, you'd give to people who did in your neighbourhood
soup kitchens, kids who couldn't afford shoes that fit, some money for a single parent down the street to get a babysitter for a night or two
whatever you could do
nobody ever questioned where you got the money
that was the funny thing about helping people—they weren't all that eager to turn you in
that and they all just figured you had an okay job
they did know you were smart, after all
and you were smart enough to never steal anything identifiable from the houses you burgled
no "family jewels", nothing with trackers, etc.
cash, generic items, any tech you could wipe and reprogram the serial number ... nothing that could be found
like i said, you were smart
mick had been assigned to your case shortly after he became a detective
he'd chased you with as much accuracy as he could
and yet, whenever he got close, you'd stop, or the pattern would change, and he'd have to start all over
somewhere along the line you started leaving notes for "the cute detective"
they were both infuriating and endearing to mick
which honestly made them more infuriating because he was very mad at himself for being charmed by a criminal
a burglar, no less
eventually, you ended up leaving a second secret and told him to meet you at a grungy dive bar downtown
you were only half-sure he wouldn't tell his captain
he doesn't
you meet up, and you don't even really tell him who you are
but he knows—and you're both aware of that
the whole night is a lot of flirting and even more sexual tension
somewhere in the early hours of the morning, you end up making out in the back of a taxi and then hooking up in his apartment
in the morning, mick demands you explain your crimes
you triple check he's not recording you before you do
at the end of it, he can't even bring himself to be mad at you, let alone arrest you
you promise not to do it anymore—or at the very least, to only do it so none of the rich people would even notice what was missing—and that's good enough for mick
before long, you're being introduced to his colleagues at the station as his boyfriend
and the case?
well, a mysterious lack of new evidence forced the captain to declare it cold ...
Warnings: Spy!Eric, Yandere!Eric, criminal!Reader, suggestive language, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, mention of torture and sexual activities.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eric Sohn. A name known well in the spy agency. He was their top spy. Eric was able to get information out of anyone, he was flexible and reliable. Even for his young age, he had worked his way to the top quickly.
That being said, whenever a job is needed to be done, a majority of the time, Eric was called, especially when the criminal was an ex-spy.
The kitten.
She was notorious, always slipping police arrest and nobody in the agency could stop her. So they called Eric.
"She's been spotted on the North side of the city. Heading for the museum we presume." The chief said, briefing Eric in. The young male nodded.
"Got a new ruby in, heard it's pretty." Eric mentioned.
"Very and if our sources are right, she's going to attack tonight."
"Not on my watch boss~" Eric replied, winking at the male.
After gearing up, Eric left the hidden agency. Nobody ever questioned Eric's plans. Knowing they always worked, the criminal would be in custody within a few hours. However, the agency didn't know Eric's mind. How he had a dark side, liked to play and was obsessive and he had been following The Kitten for a while now.
"Don't worry sweetheart, you'll be mine tonight~" Eric chuckled as he slipped on his motorbike and sped off.
~~~~
As Eric arrived at the museum, he saw the last few visitors leaving and the guards locking up for the night. He parked his bike and walked around the building, but saw no sign of his target. He waited twenty minutes before seeing movement on the building's rooftop. Smirking to himself, Eric quickly made his way there.
"Beautiful evening, isn't it~" Eric called smugly.
You had turned around upon hearing the voice. You saw Eric standing at the edge of the rooftop. You got into a position to fight, making Eric laugh.
"Oh this will be fun." He chuckled.
You took the first move, jumping at him, landing a punch to the jaw. Eric groaned but didn't move. He ran at you, giving you a split second to dive out the way, rolling on the floor, only for your chosen weapon to slip from your hand. You scrambled to get up, but Eric was quicker, running over and pinning your body to the ground.
"Now sweetheart, I've been following you for a while and I've got to say, I'm impressed." He said, as you struggled in his grip.
"Fuck you!" You spat.
Eric laughed as you pushed against him. He laughed at your weak attempt. He kept you pinned down both your wrists with one hand, his body weight holding your lower body, as he pulled something out his back pocket.
"Now relax darling, we're doing this my way~" He whispered.
Under the light of the moon, you saw a glimmer of a needle, before it was stabbed into your neck. You groaned as your vision faded, everything turning to black.
~~~
When you awoke, you were in complete darkness. You felt that you were sat on a bed, your wrists and ankles tied up with rope. You wriggled in your binds, just as the door opened and the lights came on. You blinked, your eyes adjusting and for you to see you were in some sort of sex room. You saw Eric walk in with a dopey smile.
"Morning kitten~" He greeted, emphasising your code name.
"The fuck?" You called.
"Oh you thought I was taking you in, oh no Y/n your mine!" Eric cheered. You felt your heart stop. He knew your real name.
"Now lets get a look at your pretty face~" He added.
Eric walked over to take your mask off. You scooted back, only for your back to hit the headboard. He chuckled and pulled your mask off, a smirk on his face.
"Very pretty~" He whispered, running a hand over your cheek.
"Why...Why haven't you taken me in?" You questioned.
"Your mine to play with. I've followed you for years. It was my mission to have you as my kitten." He admitted.
He chuckled again, seeing the fear on your face, your mask no longer hiding your emotions. He kissed your cheek and rubbed your head.
Summary: Loki and Y/n were some of the most formidable criminals of the gang The Avengers. On a heist, the one thing they didn't plan for happened: they got caught. And what's the best way to ensure they can't testify against each other? They pretend to be married. Only one problem...they pretty much hate each other.
Based on @deity-prompts' fabulous prompt: "A and B are part of a criminal group. When they’re caught, they pretend to be married so that they can’t testify against each other in court."
Pairing: Criminal!Loki Laufeyson x Criminal!Fem!Reader
Warning(s): mob!au themes, mentions of thievery, general stupidity, my bad humour, mob violence, possible gore, mild angst, possible references to death, lemme know if I forgot anything
