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specialgrades · 4 months ago

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DADDY’S GOOD GIRL ! ♡

synopsis. you started the night with wanting to take care of him. you ended the night with taking him apart. wc. 4.5k

tags. top! reader, bottom! sanji. reader has a cock. hardcore dom/sub. masochistic! sanji. crossdressing, daddy kink, extreme feminization, spanking, dacryphilia, subspace, anal sex, possessive sex, humiliation kink, slut-shaming, praise & degradation, blowjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unsafe sex, exhibitionism, size difference, size queen! sanji. falling in love. daddy/baby girl dynamics. everything is consensual and a shared kink.

a/n. to all my lovers of slutty boys in skirts out there

That blonde looked ridiculously stunning on the dance floor.

He was dressed in a black mini dress swathed with a thin layer of sexy red chiffon, the material cascading down to a barely mid-thigh length, just enough to tease—just enough to leave you wanting more. The bodice was sleek and slim around the chest, with a heart-shaped boob window that showed off the slight swell of his chest, the skin-tight stretch hugging his fitted waistline with a tailor-made precision.

And the best part. Every single time he would twirl around in his heels, hips swaying sensually to the beat, his skirt would lift—just lightly—to allow you the perfect glimpse of his soft thighs and the curve of his bum through black lace panties.

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose.

He would then pause, pretending to straighten the hem out, but not before tossing a sultry, half-lidded gaze over his shoulder… right in your direction. Two subtle crooks of his slim, well-manicured fingers in invitation, as though he were enticing someone to bend her over the nearest table and pound him where everyone could see, legs shaking and mascara dripping in that pretty dress.

It could be for anyone, really, but the mere thought of him having his eyes on you made your pants uncomfortably tight.

You couldn’t help but frown as a redhead with a tattoo on her left upper shoulder threw an arm around his waist and leaned up to whisper something into his ear, a cheshire grin on her face all the while. It didn’t take long before he was slowly spun around to face you, the edge of a sly smile on his face.

He strutted over, heels clacking sharply against the floor, in tune with the heavy beat. “Room for one more?” he asked, a freshly-lit cigarette between two glossy lips, a hand on the jut of his hip. He smelt of rich smoke and caramel, the bittersweet scent washing over you in waves, as though tempting you to take a bite.

What a vixen.

You shot your friends a stern, pleading look, and they snickered at you, clearing the side of the booth enough for him to slide into the seat next to you. You placed a palm on it just as he was about to sit down.

“Well… only if you share that.”

You jerked your chin towards his cigarette, and he sighed irritably, plucking it from his lips with a harsh huff, the exhaled smoke hitting your face and making your skin prickle with fleeting warmth. He then slipped the lipstick-stained head between your slightly parted ones, two fingers dragging against your lips in an indirect kiss.

You glanced up at him, taking a drag before exhaling slowly, the smoke clouding the space between the two of you. You offered him your hand to which he took, tugging him down into the booth until he was pressed snugly against your side. You took the opportunity to snake an arm around his waist, warm palm resting on his hip. “What’s your name, doll?”

“Sanji,” he replied, a dim red covering his cheeks, and you offered him yours in exchange.

“And, Sanji,” you hummed, “is your friend okay that you’re spending the night without her?” You glanced behind him, subtly looking for the tatted redhead that you had just seen.

“The night?” he breathed, biting his lip as your palm rested on the exposed area of his thigh, gently rubbing and caressing. “Getting ahead of ourselves, are we, monsieur…? But no. She encourages it, actually.”

“Can’t imagine someone like you would have a hard time getting laid.”

“It’s not that it’s hard,” he huffed. “They just don’t have what I want.”

“And I’m what you want?”

That got a teasing smile out of him. “Are you?”

“Well, you’d have to let me know, princess.” You squeezed his hip through the fabric of his dress, and he shuddered, leaning against you.

You could feel his shameless stare on the bulge of your crotch, the way every few seconds or so, his tongue would dart out to lick his bottom lip, followed by a sultry lip-bite and a glance up at you through his long lashes. You could feel the air temperature skyrocket around you, sweat building in the back of your neck.

“You can touch, darling,” you croaked, “if you want.”

“Your friends,” Sanji leaned in to whisper, nipping lightly at your ear, “they don’t mind?”

“No,” you swallowed, throat dry. “They don’t.”

“I don’t want to just touch,” he admitted.

It was too good to be true. “Sanji, love,” you murmured, “don’t go making promises you can’t keep.”

He gazed up at you with droopy, lidded eyes. “I’ve done many bad things in my lifetime, monsieur…” He lazily brushed a thumb over your cheek. “But I never, ever break a promise.”

You let slip a feral smile, cupping the back of his neck before roughly yanking him into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, careful not to ruin his dress in your frenzy. You could feel his lipstick smearing over your lips messily, and it was heavenly, almost, the searing heat of a body pressed against yours with the promise of sin.

“Shit,” you moaned as he reached a naughty hand down to squeeze your crotch, but swallowed any other complaints when he slung a thigh over your lap, mounting you in one practiced motion. You could feel the bulge of his erection from under his skirt, the way he grinded forward to let you feel it, and fuck, if it wasn’t erotic.

“Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page,” Sanji panted into your ear, and your hips stuttered at the ticklish sensation of hot breath against skin. He sighed in bliss, rocking eagerly against your hard-on. “Looks—looks like we are.”

“There was a possibility of me being on a different page?” you panted, kissing your way up his neck, breathing in the joint of his jaw and neck, basking in the smell of raw sienna, sweet and warm and rich.

“Y-yeah, well. You kept calling me princess and doll and stuff like that…”

“You don’t like?”

He shakes his head quickly, biting his lip.

“It’s not that. Some… assholes,” he hissed as you nipped messily at the side of his neck, “get turned off when they realise it’s a dick they’re grinding against. Said it ruins their fantasy, y’know?”

“I’d take that as a compliment if I were you, princess.” You smirked, hand trailing up his thigh to knead his ass, shuddering at the sweet whine he let out. “You’re prettier than any girl I’ve ever met.”

“Men like you—they all say that,” Sanji puffed, but leaned in to give you another nasty, wet kiss regardless, hips rocking back against the cups of your palms, encouraging you to touch and fondle. “Just wanna find a hole to shove their cocks into, but when they realise its equipped with a, nngh… dick, they all turn into fucking cowards.”

“I don’t know what fools you’re referring to, but… I would fuck you regardless, whatever you keep tucked away in these cute panties of yours.”

“Sure you wouldn’t prefer to fuck a pussy instead?” Sanji whined, something dirty and desperate in there.

“Think I’d prefer to fuck you, is what I was gonna say, but—” You sneered, lifting the hem of his skirt to reveal his erect cock, bulging in the confines of his see-through lace panties. “Looks like you actually like the idea of me treating you like a girl, mm?”

He whimpered, embarrassingly loud, trying to squeeze his trembling thighs together, as though that would do anything.

“What a pervert you are, Sanji.”

“Shut up, bastard. It’s not anything like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a pervert,” you cut him off with a sharp leer. “In fact, I’m very happy to indulge in your perversions… for a pretty girl like you, that is.”

He shuddered weakly in your grasp, hiding his face in your neck with a petulant whine. “You don’t— you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a fucking girl.”

“Sanji,” you huffed out a laugh. “What’s got you so desperate in trying to admit I’m into pussy, then? Those assholes who, well, allegedly get turned off when they learn that you have a cock… they’re exactly your type, aren’t they? You want someone who fucks you like you don’t own one.” You reached under his skirt to grope at his crotch, making him choke out a whimper. “You want someone who fucks you like you own nothing but bouncing tits and a drooling pussy.”

“Fuck you.” His lips curled into a snarl, nails digging into your shoulders—only for a brief moment, before his expression crumbled into pure bliss as you stroked his dripping cock. “F-fuck… me.”

“Conceding already?” you scoffed, despite your internal delight. “I expected more from you. You’re unlike any slut I’ve seen before, Sanji, asking to get fucked in public with your friends in the same room. Thinking about how they’ll be looking at you, presenting yourself to me like a whore. How will you face them after today?”

“Shut up already… Sh-shit, that feels s-so good. Keep going.”

“Yeah? Want me to put it inside your sloppy cunt, baby?”

Sanji gasped, trembling lightly in your hold as he fought the urge to grind down against the thick obtrusion pressed deliciously between his thighs, preventing them from closing. Well, fuck it. If you were finally going to give him the nasty treatment he had yearned for, he could care less about being taken bent over the table in front of everyone. So be it.

“Y-yeah,” he slurred, nodding dumbly, “want your big, fat cock in my pussy, daddy.”

Sanji could hardly process the following events that occured. A hot, wanting mouth on his, drinking greedily in the needy sounds that slipped out from his swollen lips unbidden, two searing palms on his ass, kneading insistently like it belonged to them, before he was lifted into the air and slung over a strong shoulder. He hung from there, all the blood rushing to his brain making him blink unintelligently.

He could only daydream about having that oversized cock he had so clearly felt in your pants stuffing his cunt, filling him up on one end and wringing him dry on the other.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me in front of your friends,” he mumbled, almost disappointed. “What happened to that?”

He could only hear a degrading laugh from your end, a shock of arousal curling low in his guts.

There was the faint click of a door locking before his back hit something awfully soft. The snap of a belt buckle. The rustle of fabric before cold air hit the insides of his thighs, panties gone and his skirt tossed up to bunch up around his waist. There was barely time to recuperate, to get used to the feeling of being naked underneath, before your body loomed over his, caging him in, making him feel small.

Sanji blinked his eyes wide open and swallowed, throat dry. You should never wear any clothes. Not ever.

“Is that so, sweet thing?” you leered down at him, and he realised he had said the words out loud. He couldn’t even find it in him to deny it. The answer was right in front of you, written in the wet patch soaking his panties, the unbearable ache between his thighs.

“Fuck me,” he blurted out. “Please, daddy. I want it.”

You grinned. He was so easy, so pliant. Nothing like the façade of what had been. “Nah,” you muttered. “Daddy wants to eat you out first. ‘S that okay?”

He whined, nodding his head. “Y-yeah. But be quick. Want you- hah, inside.”

It was funny how much a person could change with the promise of pleasure. The poor thing. He had probably never had someone offer him so much, before. And you were going to change that in a moment.

“Spread your legs for me, princess.”

Sanji bit his lip, thighs parting for you easily. A quiver went through his body as you slowly lowered your head onto his crotch, warm palms keeping his body open and pliant for you. You looked up at him through your lashes, something smug in your expression before they trailed down to gaze affectionately at his little cocklet.

“What a pretty pussy,” you murmured, keeping him still as he panted and squirmed, your words overwhelming him, making him believe. Sanji knows he shouldn’t. It’s a bad habit in the long run. But when you were saying it with those eyes, those lips, heat and reverence burning underneath every touch, how could he choose not to indulge?

It would be absurd not to.

“Yeah? Y-you think it’s pretty?” he whined, hopeful.

“Of course,” you drawled. “It’s beautiful. You would feel so good around me.”

“Please…” he sobbed. “Please, daddy. M-my pussy needs you. Eat me out till I’m sore.”

He didn’t know what words he was spouting—only that he needed your mouth on him, in him, everywhere, and preferably now.

Sanji couldn’t even swallow the scream if he had tried.

When you went down on him for the first time, you took the entirety of his length into your mouth in one go. The air was filled with sounds of his filthy moans, loud and untamed, hips shaking in your grip as you made sure to swallow every inch of his dick with each trained bob of your head. He found himself squeezing his teary eyes shut as he tried to envision having something else to put in your mouth instead.

If this was how good you were at sucking cock… he couldn’t imagine how you would eat his pussy. If only… fuck, if only.

You groaned loudly before pulling off with a lewd pop, watching as pre-cum trickled down his shaft in rivulets, his cock twitching prettily in your grasp with each stroke. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re so wet. Practically dripping for me.”

“Mhm,” he whined out his agreement, tears streaking down his face, “and it’s all for you.”

You grinned your approval at that, before lowering your head to swallow him wholly again, not stopping until you could bury your nose into his blonde pubes, breathing heavily in musky caramel.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck,” he babbled noisily, eyes rolling back into his skull as you sucked hard on the swollen tip, tonguing meanly at his slit until he shook and cried, fingers twisting into the sheets. He could feel just how much he was leaking, how wet he was, pre dribbling steadily into your mouth and down the column of your throat. “Please… wanna cum s-so bad, daddy. ‘m soo close… I’ll be all w-wet and loose for you after you let me. It might even fit… It’s win-win, s-so, please…”

Sanji could almost feel the shape of your smirk before you hollowed out your cheeks, making it all too much at once—what had previously been a comfortable fit around his small cock had suddenly shrunk into something much, much more tight—and then he found himself squirting cum into your mouth with a desperate shout.

He fully expected you to stop, pull off, and spit out his cum with a snarl of disgust. But the loud swallow made itself known, accompanied by the bob of your Adam’s apple. Before you started moving again.

“Daddy,” Sanji cried out as you forced his thighs to part when they threatened to clamp around your head. “Please, please, p-please. It hurts, I don’t want your mouth anymore. Need more. Need you inside.”

You stayed quiet, like you were thinking about it, whether he deserved it or not. He sighed in relief as you pulled off, finally, to look at him like you were about to eat him.

“Turn around,” you ordered, voice wrecked. “Gotta stretch your tight pussy out.”

Sanji shook his head with a petulant whine, but still, turned around to rest on his stomach, not daring to disobey your order. “N-no need, I…”

He flushed, raising his hips to present to you his pink, puckered hole, with traces of glossiness—what seemed like excess lube near the entrance. You paused.

“Stretched myself out earlier,” he confessed, tilting his head to glance back at you. “Knew I was gonna be yours, so I went to the bathroom and f-fingered myself.”

But instead of the appreciative sigh he was waiting for, your gaze only darkened, the grip you had on his hips tightening to the point of bruising.

“Liar.”

His heart dropped to his stomach.

“Wh-what?”

“You think I wouldn’t know what a used hole looks like?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Baby,” you sighed, “you should really know better than that.” You put the tip of your finger into his puffy rim, the lingering wetness inside allowing it to slide in much, much easier than a few minutes of fingering would. “You’re telling me that this… wasn’t another man’s doing?”

Tears sprung to his eyes. Sanji had come so close. He wasn’t going to let go of you, now, and definitely not because of a stupid mistake he had made a few hours ago in some nameless back alley.

“I-it wasn’t. I swear, I…”

It was almost funny, the way he teared up at the slightest hint of degradation, as though he didn’t get off on your nasty words.

“Lying little slut,” you murmured, and he whined, high-pitched and needy. You slid another finger inside, testing the stretch. It wiggled in freely to join the other, sticky walls snugly enclosing on them. You crooked your fingers slowly, dragging them against his quivering walls until he was sobbing out something desperate. “I bet you took another man’s cock in some dirty alleyway outside the bar before you approached me. He probably had a hand clamped over your mouth while he fucked your tight cunt from behind, telling you how much he wished you were a girl, but I bet you he wasn’t doing it right. You’re just greedy for better, aren’t you. Never satisfied.”

“Y-yeah. You’re right,” Sanji sobbed, “You’re always right. I’m sorry, d-daddy. Please put it in. Even for a second. Just a second is okay. I’ll make it up to you, I swear…”

It was half an apology, with how he was arching his back to the best of his ability, his hips raised high enough to clumsily rock back against your fingers, taking them deeper inside. But it wasn’t enough. He could to much better, and you wanted more.

“And how will you do that?”

He swallowed, eyes glistening with tears.

“Hit me.”

Your eyes widened.

His bottom lip wobbled, before he raised his hips higher, presenting his ass to you. “Here,” he whispered. “You can… you can hit me as much as you want.”

“Princess,” you muttered, breathless. You had decided that you were going to punish him anyway, but to see him being this vulnerable with you, more or less giving you his freedom and the right to raise a hand to his body when he wasn’t doing certain things your way… it was too much. It was fucked up. It was the worst offer he could ever make.

And you fucking loved it.

“Please, daddy,” Sanji whimpered, wriggling his ass as though to entice, “I’ve been a naughty girl and I deserve to be punished.”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Did he even know what was coming out of his lips?

Before you knew it, your hands were on his hips, grip sweaty and tight like a brand. He whined out something pitiful, shoulders shaking as his elbows gave in and he crumbled onto the sheets, panting heavily. You rocked your hips forward, swollen shaft sliding between his cheeks with every shallow thrust, the leaking tip catching on his rim every single time, making him whine.

“Please,” he sobbed, “I haven’t been good at all, daddy. I-I’ve been sleeping around. Letting other men put their cocks in me. I’m yours, daddy. Y-you can’t let that slide.”

His words forced a guttural snarl out of you, and you nudged forward, forcing your tip past his tight rim, groaning loud as he squeezed and clenched around you sporadically, the stretch too much to handle.

“Daddy!” Sanji cried. “So big…”

“Shh, pretty girl,” you hushed, eyes screwed shut in concentration as you pushed further into the warm cave encompassing you, wanting nothing but to force your way in, to break him just as he had been begging you for. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t remember your own name, baby. No one else’s but mine. How’s that sound?”

He whined his agreement, grinding backwards every time you paused to let him take a breather, never wanting to stop. You were big and swollen with heat, and his hole, albeit stretched out and fucked thoroughly by another man’s cock, was still tight and straining to take your size.

“H-he was nothing like you, daddy,” Sanji slurred, pretty blue eyes hazed over. “They all are nothing like you. They were so small.”

You slammed into his hole at his words, groaning loud as he sobbed his pleasure, soaking the mattress with his tears. “Yeah? That doesn’t sound too good, baby. I’ll have ruined sex for you forever, if all the men you’ve fucked don’t compare.”

Sanji shook his head, whining. “P-please. It’s worth it. E-even if, nnngh, ah! Daddy won’t see baby again a-after this. I’ll be daddy’s good girl tonight. I’ll be anything daddy wants.” He was blabbering, moans and cries coming out in broken syllables, wiping away his tears with the heel of his palm but they just keep on coming. It broke his heart, to know that he would just be someone you fucked tomorrow. No longer your baby. No longer yours.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” you promised, inching forward until the your crotch pressed against the meat of his presenting ass, your shaft fully resting inside him, filling him up. “For now…”

“Please, daddy,” he cried again. “Hit me.”

The first sting didn’t hurt as much as he had expected. Your palm fell hard against his left cheek, as planned, leaving a ripple of pain and lingering pleasure, making him sob out and clench. You cursed, rubbing a rough hand over the reddened skin as though to soothe, starting to rock slowly into his throbbing hole, trying to take away some of the ache as the tapered tip of your cock crushed against his prostate, leaving nothing but ecstasy in its wake.

Sanji didn’t like that. He didn’t like that you were still trying to take care of him, even if he had been misbehaving. You were so good to him, but Sanji didn’t want good. He wanted to be punished tonight.

“How’s that?” you panted. “Talk to me, baby.”

He swallowed, throat dry. “It wasn’t good at all, daddy.”

“What? Did I use too much force? Was it—”

“No,” he cut you off. “I want you to hit me harder.”

You frowned at the hidden imperative in his words.

Sanji turned his head to glare at you defiantly. “I’m not a delicate girl, daddy. I’ve been naughty, and you gotta punish me for it. Don’t hold back.”

You frowned harder.

“And is baby the one making orders in this room?”

His eyes widened before they lowered in shame, and he shook his head.

“Is baby in charge of daddy, now?”

Sanji shook his head again, lips parting to apologize, but you cut him off with a snarl.

“Then she should shut up and let daddy do whatever he wants to her.”

He nodded obediently, pressing his lips together to signify that he’s listening to your orders.

“Good girl,” you muttered. “Daddy’s gonna hit you now. And you’re going to take it, no matter what. Am I understood?”

Sanji opened his mouth without thinking. “Yes, daddy—”

And the slap came twice as hard. “Filthy little slut. I just told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

He cried out loudly, bucking in your grasp, biting his bottom lip to stifle any sounds. He had to take it. For you, he would do anything. Anything to be daddy’s good girl again.

The pleasant sting in his ass was doing wonders to his mind, sending him into a space where only you and him and the wonderful, wonderful ache existed, and nothing else mattered. But before he could even bask in the heady feeling, the third slap came again, this time on his left cheek, and his eyes rolled back, his cock twitching as he came onto the mattress with a whine and a shudder.

And then a fourth came, soon followed by a fifth. Each one harder than the last, each one better than the last.

Sanji couldn’t think, could hardly feel anything other than the stinging pleasure of warm violence against raw, sensitive skin, setting his nerves ablaze. He loved the hurt. He loved the burn.

And if anything, you were still hard and aching inside him, your cock rubbing against his insides perfectly, filling him up so well, making him feel heavy and aching and grounded, one hand wrapped around his hip at all times to keep him steady while you punished him mercilessly with the other.

Sanji lost count after twenty.

When he came to be, you were stroking his hair, slowly pumping your cock in and out of him. The spanking had ceased, and what was left was a delicious, pulsing pain in both of his cheeks, the ache travelling deeper every time you pressed against the bruises on the backs of his thighs. He didn’t know how many times he had cum, but judging by the way his dick felt as though it had been wringed dry and the space between his thighs were all damp and sticky, probably more than once.

You were pulling out, now, and before he could question the emptiness, something warm, thick and wet had painted itself across his cheeks, and he realised you had cum all over his ass. Over the product of your hard work, and his enduring. His bruises and the marks you put on him.

Sanji couldn’t even cry when you leaned down to whisper “good girl” into his ear, praising him for staying still and being good for you when you needed him to. For taking your punishment like the good slut he was supposed to be. A pretty thing that followed her daddy’s orders.

“Love you, daddy…” he slurred out, blinking mindlessly. And when you chuckled lowly, something demeaning in your tone, he couldn’t even find it in himself to be a brat about it.

He was just that happy.

masterlist!

#🔁 ; reblogs.#op my eyes have been opened with this #forcefem sanji.... ough

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specialgrades · 8 months ago

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murder for you, baby !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ➾ a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➾ jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➾ nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ➾ not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI.

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

#🔁 ; reblogs.#getting in to dc a bit and this set the bar for fics SO high y'all have no idea #the evil little laugh i let out hitting “keep reading” after seeing the tags... bro i was EXCITED #and op DELIVERED #creme de la creme. to me

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