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#the manipulation right off the bat?
ex0rin · 7 months
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Butchie - first scene | The Boys S01E01
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neonnoir-ao3 · 6 months
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I’ve been listening to your Showtime playlist and ahhh! I love it!! It really fits them. Also, if you’re taking some recs I have a good one! If not, sorry. Fell free to ignore
AHHH I'm so glad you like it!!! 💙💙💙💙
And yes, I do take requests into consideration! It's slightly tailored to my fic Community Gardens and the themes it focuses on, so not all Showtime-relevant songs will appear on it for that reason.
Believe it or not, I didn't add this specific song sooner is because I've got it on another character playlist! For a character with a, uh, very contrasting vibe...
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(*shameless plug*)
But regardless, I agree: the vibes and lyrics fit enough to add it! :)
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bhaalsdeepbat · 2 months
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Astarion refers to the other spawn he intends to create as his children and I personally HC it more like his consort spawn eventually plays the role of brood mother to whoever the favored "children" are for eternity. like they recreate a fucked up family unit. romanced player and the children have to compete for scraps while he spoils whoever his romance partner is. and the cruelty of it is that Astarion's consort has all the gifts to be in the sun, but Astarion now wants an eternal night for all of the children he intends to make (and force to live in the shadows).
#bat rambles#and like thats so poetic right?#he will burn down the world and make it so there ISNT anyone else beside Tav/Durge/Romance Partner in the world#just cattle and children cloaked in neverending darkness#also when i say poetic the entire thing is a tragedy#like it's so tragic to give tav/durge/his romance partner that gift to retain that part of their humanity#then make the world hospitable to normal spawn#i am team AA still remembers the budding love he felt but#it's a ghost of a memory and he thinks he's above all that now#but he will pretend to show love in small doses#just enough to keep them wanting more and keep them under his thumb#and the memory of what he felt corrupts with him as he shifts closer and closer to evil alignment and he becomes more and more possessive#and he does spoil tav/durge bc they'll always be his favorite#but it's more like they were the first pet and will always be the most beloved#but he does have other pets he is fond of but like#and like that love he felt for tav/durge made him feel too vulnerable so he has to make them feel so small#as small as he felt when he was cowering behind them#bc he won't ever let himself feel that small or let his edges feel that dulled again#it's about the corruption of the feeling for me#you sacrifice 7007 people to suffer in the hells for eternity#you're not gonna get off scott free#and i think the corruption of the love he feels - the love he used to manipulate tav/durge into helping him ascend - is like#just a tragic & poetic price to pay#bc it wasn't even inevitable bc he could have just ascended and not paid any price#but tav/durge/whoever was supposed to be his pillar and keep him grounded when he is tempted by his vampiric nature#bg3 headcanons#bg3#astarion#ascended astarion
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aemond1eye · 2 years
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denouncing ppl’s dumb alicent takes online isn’t enough i need a gun
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rxttenfish · 2 years
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..... yaknow, another thing that makes miravi fun for me is that. aaravi is very easy to embarrass. she’s very easy to catch off guard, or fluster, or just otherwise leave her floundering because she doesn’t know how to react in emotional situations since she doesn’t have that experience.
and miranda, in contrast, is next to impossible to properly embarrass. she only really gets it in certain situations and, even more importantly, only from specific people. she’s most at her element in dialogue and emotions, since she uses both of these to extreme effect to manipulate people to get what she wants.
which means that miranda is a person who KNOWS how to zero in on how to make aaravi lose her footing in a social situation and just start floundering, but also comes with a kind of emotional awareness on when it’s gone too far or when she needs to lighten up.
all of this to say that miranda knows how to reduce aaravi down to a blushing mess with just a few little, choice words and can still keep her hooked enough to keep coming back for more.
#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#miravi.txt#monster prom#they're GOOD your honor!!!!#much of their early relationship is miranda just. batting at aaravi like a cat.#because miranda is an ass who's love language is bullying#and its FUN to knock her off her feet and leave her entirely out of her element!#just enough to torment her but not enough to make her actually uncomfortable#she knows the slayer can actually hurt her in a fight and would like to do so#so she just denies it of her. no. no physical fight. cant justify one and will leave aaravi in her most unfamiliar element.#its one of those minor manipulations miranda does where she just wants to stack any conversation in her favor#but as they get closer it becomes just#playful ribbing and just WANTING to see aaravi flustered and blushing#its cute. shes cute when she's just at a loss for words and when miranda gets to flatter her.#........ which yes does tie back into the praise kink and miranda knowing ALL of the right things to say#to get ravi's brain going in ALL the right/wrong/right directions#and which quickly turns on miranda#as they get to the point where aaravi is just very used to her sly dorkass wife#and aaravi has become one of those Very Specific People who CAN fluster and embarrass MIRANDA.#and by then its too late theyre in full wife mode and miranda doesnt stand a chance.#too domestic. too soft. theyve already confessed to each other they already know the other loves them.#theres no backing out now they know each others weaknesses#anyways. annoying u annoying the tag bothering the tag.
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sluttylittlenewsboy · 6 months
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Taking the term "lovebombing" away from ya'll until you can learn to play nice
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Danny was enjoying himself. His new haunt was suprisingly spacious and came with lots of charges who needed protection and care.
The old butler guy, Alfred, seemed to at least have an idea of what was going on. He had been making extra food lately and leaving it out for Danny to eat in a secluded area. Danny always made sure to turn the plate invisible and sneak it back to his hidden passage panic room before he started eating.
In return, Danny made sure to do lots of chores around the manor. Intangibility and wind manipulation made dusting super easy if you knew how to use it right.
Danny also took his job as a guardian spirit seriously. He overheard the bats fighting about not wanting to be coddled on patrol and decided it was best to let them handle themselves outside of the manor. Danny himself hated when people stuck thier noses into his business.
Jazz had screwed him over countless times with her good intentions.
But the manor was different. This was his new haunt after his old one kicked him out. This family had invited him in whether they knew it or not. Also, since the Fentons and GIW don't exist in this world, they'd have a hell of a time kicking him out.
It's best not to let it come to that. So Danny had to make these people love him the way Amity Park never did.
The Wayne's however are rather dense. You would think them being the worlds greatest detectives would mean something, but they kept silently blaming each other for things happening around the manor until they couldn't.
A book being put away when they were done with it or their messes being cleaned up when they came back into a room could be easily explained by how many people lived there. The family entering the dining room, discussing what they were going to order for dinner since Alfred was gone for a week only to find a full meal waiting for them on the diner table? They couldn't brush that off.
None of them could cook.
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gimmethatagustd · 2 months
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oxygen | jjk
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If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.
○ Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Mafia, established relationship, angst, smut
○ 9 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mafia)
○ Word Count: 2,053
○ Warnings: Organized crime, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, infidelity (MC's boyfriend is Yoongi *gasp*), MC is actually kind of sick in the head lowkey lmfaooo, marijuana (is it a jai fic if weed isn't at least mentioned?), casual conversation about being murdered, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, gunplay, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm control, hair pulling, rough sex, pain kink
○Notes: I was never here. I repeat, I WAS NEVER HERE.
○ Post Date: February 13, 2024
○ Masterlist |
○ What was Jai listening to? Oxygen - Jackson Wang
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“I fucking hate you.”
Jungkook tastes blood as he watches you stumble up the marble stairs, break-ankle stilettos grating into the stone like his molars grate against each other when he chews the inside of his cheek.
It takes three steps before you give up, bending to slip your finger under the thin black strap that hugs each ankle to keep the red bottoms in place. Off-balanced from holding your leather jacket balled up under one arm, you teeter on one foot, and Jungkook has to fight the urge to grab your waist.
Air rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils, a scoff that mixes with the wind. It’s one of the last days of summer before autumn cuts the nights short and chills the air. If Jungkook could have his way, he would be sitting out on his balcony right now with a fat blunt and his phone on silent.
Instead, he’s dealing with you.
“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fucking help me?” you snap, words slurring together when you pout through them.
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek where he’s bitten into the fleshy skin. The metallic flavor mixes oddly with the aftertaste of his half-smoked blunt from earlier.
“Thought you said you hate me,” Jungkook sucks his teeth, tattooed fingers squeezing your bicep to steady you while you unclasp your shoes.
“I do.”
“Hmm.” Jungkook exchanges a grip on your arm for the heels, black and deadly like the Glock clipped to his waist.
Your dress rides up far enough that your asscheeks are exposed when you bend down again, your skimpy black thong doing nothing to cover you. The sheer pair is one Yoongi bought you for Valentine’s Day last year. Yoongi hadn’t batted an eye when he dropped thousands of dollars on a lingerie set that he isn’t even patient enough to appreciate on your body before he rips it off.
Not Jungkook, though. Jungkook is patient.
“Carry me,” you whine, pushing up against Jungkook’s side, nimble fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging.
Jungkook knows not to look up at the columned overhang, but the many cameras lining the mansion's exterior weigh heavily on him as he helps you up the stairs to the front door.
“I can’t,” Jungkook grits his molars, jaw flexing beneath taunt skin, “And you know that.”
The keypad at the front door unlocks with Jungkook’s thumbprint. Inside, the foyer is dark. It’s nearly four in the morning, and the rest of the guards are either monitoring the cameras or asleep. They’re all lower-level and easily bend to Jungkook’s will, meaning none of them will rat you out for slipping off in the dead of night to go party with your friends despite being under strict orders not to leave the house until Yoongi returns from his business trip.
As second-in-command, Jungkook should be in Japan with Yoongi, handling what will likely be one of the largest arms deals in Bangtan’s history. But Yoongi is paranoid, and paranoid men don’t leave their girlfriends with just anyone. Especially when their girlfriends are trouble.
And you? You’re trouble in a tight little black dress, hips swaying as you walk with new purpose through the foyer, your leather jacket thrown on the floor for Jungkook to pick up as he trails behind you — always trailing, following just a half step behind you, only in front when he puts his life on the line over yours. And he does, has the scars on his body to prove it, scars you like to bite to remind him of everything he’s willing to lose for Yoongi. For you.
There are only three types of rooms in the house that don’t have cameras installed: bedrooms, bathrooms, and arms rooms. You like to have Jungkook fuck you in all of them.
Tonight, it’s one of the basement-level arms rooms, the one Yoongi likes to use for entertainment because there’s a full bar and a conference table typically littered with guns, drugs, and money.
And sometimes, if Yoongi is in a shitty mood, girls.
You don’t care what Yoongi does, though it wouldn’t matter even if you did. As Bangtan’s leader, there’s no room for criticism of the boss — unless someone wants to lose a limb or their life, and Yoongi is known to be trigger-happy.
You learned that from him.
Jungkook lets out a shuddered breath as you drag the muzzle of his gun from the middle of his sternum down his abdomen. The metal is cold, and you move slowly, taking your time over every hill and valley of his muscles, painting goosebumps across his skin until you reach the waistband of his underwear.
The chamber is empty, but it still makes Jungkook’s heart jump in his throat when you press the gun against his clothed cock.
“Yoongi is going to kill us one day,” you whisper, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back a smile.
Jungkook leans back with his elbows against the table where you’ve sat him at one of the chairs. You’re in your heels again. Jungkook loves it when you stand over him, a powerful force far too often squandered by Yoongi’s overbearing leadership and desire to be the most feared person in the room. It’s one of Yoongi’s greatest mistakes.
You’re gorgeous, stripped down until all you’re wearing is another man’s Valentine’s Day gift, your own body a present Jungkook has the unholy pleasure of opening again and again — but only after you’ve opened him up, gutted him like a fish.
Or blown him open, a bullet bursting like shrapnel to cut him from the inside out. Jungkook would let you do it.
Jungkook stares up at you with innocent eyes that tell nothing of the secret horrors his hands have done, of the horrors he has endured and inflicted upon others. He stares up at you with innocent eyes and his lips wrapped around the muzzle of his gun that you hold with your finger on the trigger.
“Bang, bang,” you giggle as the gun clicks, and Jungkook lets you slide it further into his mouth, the tangy taste too similar to blood and nothing he hasn’t tasted before.
Maybe it’s fear that makes Jungkook crave you. Maybe Jungkook has a death wish. Maybe Jungkook likes the idea of you being his lifeline, the sole decider of whether he lives or dies. All it would take is one tiny confession twisted into a lie, and you could convince Yoongi that Jungkook came onto you and tried to seduce you.
Jungkook knows Yoongi would enjoy making him suffer if he thought Jungkook was treating you unkindly. Yoongi would enjoy violently murdering Jungkook even more if he knew just how good Jungkook treated you.
You don’t pull the gun back until Jungkook gags. Tears collect along his eyelashes, but he blinks them away as you toss his gun onto the table.
“You’d let him kill you.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook’s voice is hoarse from the gun, and it cracks when you sit on the table in front of him and spread your legs. “I would.”
“You’re fucking stupid.”
“So are you.”
Jungkook’s cock throbs as he watches you slip your thong down your legs. You drag his spit-slicked gun along your dripping pussy, parting your folds and getting the muzzle shiny with your arousal. When his eyes flit up to meet yours, you let out a broken moan, tongue slipping out to lick your bottom lip.
“Come here,” you beckon, the curl of your finger tugging Jungkook forward like a red string tied in a noose around his neck. He fits perfectly between your thighs, his clothed cock pressing against your exposed pussy.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers against your lips. His body crowds yours, forcing you to tip your head back to look into his pretty doe eyes.
“Be a good boy and clean this up first,” you say as you hold up the gun in front of Jungkook’s face.
Jungkook doesn’t look away as he licks a stripe up the length of the gun’s muzzle, too turned on by how intensely you watch him lick and suck your juices off it. How eagerly he bends to your will is pathetic, but he doesn’t care.
When you toss his gun away to dig your nails in his hair and tug him into a bruising kiss, Jungkook feels like he can finally breathe.
You taste sweet, like whatever fruity cocktails you’d been drinking with your friends. Jungkook sucks your tongue, and he feels the vibration of your moans go straight to his leaking cock.
“Fuck me,” you moan with nails in his back, “And make it hurt.”
Jungkook helps you off the table to bend you over it. He may prefer sex that is slow and face-to-face, but Yoongi is coming home in a few hours, and sometimes, you like to punish yourself by denying yourself the sweet, sensual care that Jungkook prefers to give you. Sometimes you like it dirty and fast like this, Jungkook fucking into you with your wrists behind your back and your face pressed into the conference table’s cold, sleek surface.
You look forward to the tender bruise you’ll have on the apple of your cheek and against your hips from where Jungkook fucks you hard enough that you slam into the edge of the table. It’s a gamble, wondering if this will be the time Yoongi finally notices.
Sometimes Jungkook wonders if Yoongi already has noticed, and he’s just biding his time, waiting for the opportune moment to kill you both.
“Fuck, jagi,” Jungkook moans. The table squeaks and grunts as the force of Jungkook fucking you pushes the table back and forth across the floor.
“Do I feel good, baby?” you gasp, twisting your hands in Jungkook’s so you can wrap your fingers around his wrist, too, to have something to hold onto.
“So good,” Jungkook whimpers, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Can I cum? Please?”
Your skin is probably chafing from how hard you’re being bounced against the table, but all you do is moan and clench around Jungkook’s cock, taunting him.
“Jagi, please,” Jungkook begs, hips faltering slightly. You’re so wet and creamy. There’s something about fucking you in the arms room that always makes you feel and sound better.
“You wanna cum? Baby boy wants to cum?”
“Wanna cum so bad, you feel so, fuck, so, so good.”
Jungkook lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips and pull you onto his cock with each thrust. You lift off the table slightly so he can wrap one arm around your waist and slip his fingers through your folds, playing with your clit as he fucks you. He knows he needs to make you cum first before you’ll let him.
"Just like that, you're doing so well," you pant, pussy clenching and pulsing around Jungkook's cock so hotly that he knows you're going to cum soon.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long. Jungkook has you so worked up that you cum once he pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingers while you writhe and squirm on his cock, whimpering his name.
“Come on, baby,” you moan, “Cum for me, now.”
Tilting your head up, you let Jungkook kiss you. He squeezes his eyes shut as he cums inside you, mouth hanging open and completely useless to kiss, so you press light kisses along his sweaty throat instead.
“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers once his body has calmed down, gently easing out of you. His hands shake as he collapses into the chair and pulls you into his lap.
You kiss him properly this time, sliding your hands through his sweaty hair. He’s pussy-drunk, fucked dumb, nothing but static in his head as your lips glide with his. He could stay like this, pliant like clay in your hands, let you mold him into whatever you want him to be. Let you make or break him. Jungkook doesn’t care.
“Tell me you love me,” you demand, nails sharp against Jungkook’s scalp.
“Jagi,” Jungkook whimpers when you pull his hair, “I love you so much. I love you more than anything.”
“More than yourself?”
“More than myself.”
You hum into the next kiss, and Jungkook feels his body melt. 
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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 
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sytoran · 7 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟐 — 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐉𝐎𝐁
kinktober day 002 | secretary!natalie rushman x ceo!reader
natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file involves seducing a high-ranking executive, and the seduction goes smoothly. a little too well, in fact, that she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.
cont. reader has a cock, power play, begging
word count. 1869
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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To Natasha, you were nothing more than just another target.
She was an unfathomably, dangerously-skilled assassin, feared across nations and intelligence bureaucracies. She was a Red Room widow gone rogue, taking things in her own stride and shifting the world upside down as she pleased. Renowned political figures and billionaire executives were dropping like flies, and you, were no different.
This time, Natasha Romanoff was going undercover as Natalie Rushman.
It had been embarrassingly easy for her to infiltrate security and create a false persona for herself. Climbing up the ranks of a corporate business like this one had been more time-consuming, sure, spanning over a few months, but Natalie would reap what she sow.
Chief Executive Officer Y/N L/N was all-too-easy to fool, even more gullible than the other targets Natasha had preyed upon. 
All it took was the classic seduction: bending over to ‘pick up a pen’, coincidentally right in your field of vision, clinging onto your arm and looking up with wide doe eyes while you talked, giggling shyly when you made a joke and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
In the end, all her targets got caught up in the Widow’s Web. You were rendered useless and completely at Natasha’s mercy, waiting to be preyed upon for manipulation and her own personal gain.
Or at least, that’s what you let her think.
“Fuck, baby,” you cursed, eyes screwed shut as your secretary bobbed her head up and down the girthy length of your cock, lewd noises escaping both your lips.
Natalie looked up at you through glossy eyes, bottle-red lipstick smeared but unarguably pretty, batting her eyelashes every so often. It had only taken a week of flirting before you took her home, your actions seemingly foolish.
“Take it all down your throat, Natalie, fuck,” you said breathily, hands tugging onto her hair as you chased your own high. Natasha almost choked on the length in her mouth at the fast pace you had set, but she quickly hollowed out her cheeks to engulf your wet heat once more.
Shit, it had been a while since Natasha had gotten such a thick cock, above average in length, too. Normally, these high-ranking executives had disappointingly miniscule excuses of a member, but this was thrillingly different. 
Still, Natasha couldn’t forget why she had made all this effort to get to your house.
“Fuck, babe, you’re too good at this,” you comment breathlessly, chest heaving as you come down from your high. “Bedroom?”
To speed up the process, Natasha finished you off with her hands working on the base of your cock, calculated squeezes and strokes that had you jerking your hips up as you toppled over the edge. Jets of hot white come went down Natasha’s throat, as she greedily sucked and swallowed.
Tastes fucking good too, she thought. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
Natasha had to refrain from rolling her eyes. What you wanted was predictable, to have your cock inside her. She wanted something different, though. It was why she had embarked on this mission in the first place.
“Can we go to your office?” Natasha asks instead, never failing to load up on that sultry tone that had people falling to their knees. She licks her lips drenched in your seed, kissing her way up your unbuttoned shirt as she rises to her feet. Her navigation of your surprisingly well-built body ends at the column of your neck.
Calculatedly, Natasha presses her slick lips to the hot skin of your neck, her residual lipstick making an enviable mark there. 
“I want you to bend me over your office desk.”
Natasha can’t help but smirk at your affected reaction. You hastily lift your secretary up by the back of her thighs, letting her hook her legs around your torso. A sloppy kiss kickstarts your burning need to meet her needs.
Of course, the sole reason why Natasha wanted to go to your office was to retrieve a very important thumb drive that was stored there. As you were the CEO of an incredibly powerful corporate firm, being able to have that kind of information meant a wealth of power, influence, and information.
There isn’t a doubt of the sinful possibilities floating through your mind right now, as you single-handedly unclasp her bra and rid of her remaining garments, as you stumble your way over to your office.
Everything was going according to Natasha's plan.
As if on cue, you kick open the door of your office and ungracefully deposit Natasha onto your desk. The way you’re manhandling her is arguably hot, and when you trail kisses down the back of Natasha’s neck, she quite nearly forgets what she came here to do.
“Need you inside me, now,” Natasha growls out, because she needs to get this operation going. What scares her for a moment is that her statement isn’t entirely untrue, because you were evidently more skilled than any of her previous counterparts and she so craved release.
 You certainly don’t disappoint in that aspect, forcefully bending Natasha over the desk as she wished, then painstakingly slowly dragging her skirt down with your teeth. 
“Fuck,” Natasha doesn’t mean to whimper when your cock slides between her wet folds, collecting slick arousal with that huge shaft, but she does whimper, and you let out a low noise from your chest.
As you’re busy getting your cock lubricated enough to enter her, Natasha seizes this opportune moment of your distraction to slides her hand over the desk to where your laptop was, unplugging the thumbdrive just as you speak up again.
“You’re fucking naughty, hm?” you growl, and Natasha freezes.
The fear envelops her whole, before Natasha realizes that you’ve remained blissfully oblivious to her actions and were trapped in the haze of sex.
“You’re fuckin’ naughty, wanting me to bend you over my table like that. Beg for my cock, and maybe I’ll let you use it.”
Natasha gulps, not understanding why she’s threatening to start drooling onto your desk, her body building up so much slick.
She’s the Black Widow, for fuck’s sakes, and she bowed down to no one. She was in control, dictating the decisions that crafted this very situation, hooking you around her pretty little finger.
After all, she had already retrieved the thumb drive. Her mission was already over, already completed. She had no reason to stay. She could knock you out cold in a matter of mere seconds, so why was she so hesitant?
Your grip hardens at her disobedience, and Natasha can’t help the whine that tumbles out when you pull your cock way from her wet heat. 
“You want it, hm? Then beg for it,” you repeat, dangerously close to Natasha’s ear, raising goosebumps with your hot breath brushing the surface of her skin.
Natasha wails when you push her back into the desk, pebbled nipples pressing into the cold glass. She’s clenching around nothing, wet walls fluttering emptily, slick arousal dripping down her thighs. 
Suddenly, you bring your hand up and harshly slap Natasha’s ass. The moan she lets out is downright pornographic, high-pitched and long-lasting as a red blush blossoms on her rounded ass, the pain stinging her skin and pricking tears behind her eyes.
It’s been so long, her body screams at her. You need this. Need to be fucked, need to be used.
“Beg for it.”
“Please! Need your cock, please,” Natasha babbles, finally, giving in to your urges. When you thrust your whole length down her tight pussy, all in one go, Natasha almost falls apart instantly.
You thrust up into her, hard, thick length pushing past her slick walls. If Natasha thought you were big before, with your cock in her mouth, now she knew you were fucking huge.
It isn’t long before you’re fucking into her with an animalistic nature, skin slapping against skin with dirty, lewd noises. “Can’t take the size, baby?” you question dryly, pulling on her hair as Natasha drools onto your desk.
Your cock is hitting her cervix with almost every thrust. The pleasure not only stems from the fact that you were the biggest she had ever taken, but also from your sheer skill.
Natasha’s first orgasm of the night comes in a tidal wave. It’s like water breaking through a dam, hitting her with a strength she didn’t know her body possessed. Her walls flutter around your girthy cock as she squirts. 
“Oh, Y/N!” Sinful moans of your name fall from Natasha’s lips as you thrust even deeper than she thought imaginable.
In other words, that was only the beginning of the rollercoaster-esque high you would bring Natasha to.
***
Natasha awakes with groggy eyes. There’s a warm, muscled forearm splayed over her torso, and it takes a fraction of a second before Natasha remembers it’s you.
“Shit,” she whispers, looking out of the window at the rising sun. She was supposed to leave your house last night, but the events had gotten more than out of hand.
The ache in Natasha’s legs and back is a blaring reminder of that fact. The image of sweaty, slick bodies moving together in a darkened room flashes across Natasha’s mind, and she has the decency to flush a pink-red.
Checking again for the thumbdrive in her strewn clothes, Natasha nods to herself assuredly and gets herself together to make an exit. Her eyes float to your sleeping figure. Looks like she had worn you out.
“You’re kinda stupid, but you were a good fuck,” she whispers with a tilted head.
As soon as the front door of your house clicks shut, you sit up slowly, letting the blanket slide over your toned abdominal muscles and down to your waistline. 
“Just a good fuck?” you ask amusedly. “Squirting three times in a row seems better than good, if I do say so myself.” Relaxed, you reach over to your bedside and take your phone.
Dialling in a number that you’d memorised by heart, the receiver picks up in less than two rings. “You’re fuckin’ late,” a gruff voice sounds out. “What did we tell you about not fucking the targets for the whole bloody night?”
You scoff in half-annoyance and amusement. As long as you got the job done, your bosses didn’t have any reason to question your methods. "You’re just jealous you didn’t get a taste of that sweet pussy,” you drawl out contedly, delighting in the aggravated huff that crackles over the line.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” you continue, your face taking on a more serious expression. “The Widow left my house thirty seconds ago, with the false thumb drive."
"Details?" 
"Swapped it out while she was cumming on my cock, sir."
"......Microchip tracking device?"
"Implanted in the top button of her blouse."
"Audio recorder?"
"In the hem of her very scandalous skirt.”
There is a pause on the line, but you know not to fear. When a low chuckle is emitted from the other end, you can’t help but smirk in smug satisfaction. The next words you hear are almost as sweet as Natasha’s moans of your name.
"Well done, Agent. Your mission is complete."
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if you liked this, please give it a reblog! it means the absolute world to me <3
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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brucewaynehater101 · 1 month
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I can imagine after Jason's death Tim wasn't like a therapist instead he was bullying Bruce into therapy, during a fight Bruce goes "I don't need another robin, I don't need help" and Tim just stands aside and watches Bruce get his ass kicked while throwing our random tidbits of therapeutical advice.
I can definitely see this as a different hc as well.
Tim has perfected the Disappointed Stare™ as he watches Bruce in a fetal position getting kicked by a basic goon. Sometimes, when he's really tired babysitting the man, he'll allow the goons to get a few extra kicks in.
He also seems like the type not to intervene when he told Bruce exactly what was going to happen. It's not Tim's fault the man refused to listen to him.
Tim operates on spite, being right, manipulation, and bullying someone for their own good. If the bat-loving depressed middle-aged man wants to be sad by being mean to everyone else, the kid will sign him up for furry support groups. He'll get Alfred on his side to force Bruce to attend those meetings.
Tim Drake is not a licensed therapist, and he'll make damned sure that Bruce knows that. If the man wanted professional help instead of relying on bullying by a kid, the man could afford to do that. Instead, he has a thirteen year old putting itching powder in the batsuit when Bruce refuses to take it off after 27 hours.
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bellamer · 11 months
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Despite popular belief, I dont think that Miles' parents would hate Hobie right off the bat:
Rio and Jefferson meeting Hobie but it plays out like that episode of Daria where Trent and Jane lived with Daria's family and they didn't know what to do because they've never really lived in a household with two parents that are at least semi involved in their lives
Like imagine by circumstance Hobie gets manipulated into staying at the Morales'-Davis household for a few days after Hobie accidentally says that his parents aren't around after Rio and Jefferson say that his parents are probably worried about him being out at their house late.
Rio insists because Hobie obviously doesn't eat enough and could use a few days of good meals and the bags under his eyes have bags and Jefferson agrees because Hobie needs someone to show him "guidance" and to help him "get his life together", and Miles is just shocked that his parents not only love his boyfriend, they basically made him a part of the family.
Hobie tries to be grateful at first but then he gets overwhelmed when Rio and Jefferson actually scold him for staying out too late because he's never had a curfew and they sit him down and talk to him about going to college and shit.
He gets so overwhelmed because their need to parent this boy is so strong, he makes up some bullshit about his "uncle" taking him into his custody just so he can go back to his universe.
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sleepy-writes-stuff · 11 months
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DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #17
(I had this idea when I learned that there are some people who give out their phone numbers for people to give to someone who is harassing them/giving creepy vibes/or just plain not interested.
Btw, if you wanna add a ship between Danny and any of the mentioned captured vigilantes, go right on ahead! If you're not a fan of ships, that's fine too. Later!)
Who You Gonna Call?
After the Anti-Ecto Acts were dismantled and the townwide internet/communications blackout is dismantled, Danny's social media for his alter ego blows up. He won't lie either, he loves the mostly positive attention whereas before he'd only been met with fear and hatred.
It isn't until he makes a post where he jokingly mentions the Fenton patented Anti-Creep Stick™ (yes it actually works on ghosts) that he gets loads of comments on how many wish it would work on human creeps giving unwanted attention (it actually does because it's literally just a baseball bat covered in anti-ghost paint, but meh) or really just have Danny himself scare away the creeps because of the whole "being a ghost" thing. Naturally, this sets off Danny's protection obsession and he decides to do something about it.
With a little help from Technus, Danny learns to manipulate and travel through phone connections and then releases a separate phone number for people to use/give away if they're stuck in an uncomfortable situation.
Here's the funny part tho.
Red Hood somehow uses the number kinda as a joke to, well, sic Phantom on the Joker while him, Nightwing, and Red Robin are tied up for another one of the clown's schemes. It works a little too well though. Turns out the Joker is wanted in the Infinite Realms for continued interference on peaceful relations between said Realms and the Living World, i.e. - terrorism. It's then discovered that Joker is in fact considered liminal by ghost standards and therefore falls under Danny, the Ghost King's, jurisdiction.
So basically, Jason calls Phantom's Anti-Creep number as a joke, Phantom actually shows up via phone connection, and all three of them wind up witnessing firsthand the Joker being dragged into a glowing green, concerningly Pit-like portal, bound in chains + kicking and screaming. Phantom even stops long enough to untie them, shake hands with a shocked Red Hood, thanks him for his help, and then leaves like it never happened.
Now. How the hell are they going to explain this to Batman?
This idea has probably already been thought of before but I haven't seen it. If someone has, please direct me to it. 👀
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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hi!!!! so i absolutely adore ur writing and was wondering if you could do angst. idk if this is up your alley or anything but if it’s not you don’t have to write it dw abt it!
so basically vox x reader
reader is really sad bc something happened and just isn’t in the mood for vox when he comes home from work. so vox being himself is annoying and instead of reader being mad or even like having a reaction (she’s usually a dom btw) she just like breaks down. ik this is a little random but i think it’s a pretty cute idea. have a nice day/night xxx
a/n — I had a TERRIBLE day so here’s this hurt/comfort fic to cope.
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Vox’s shit-eating grin slowly faltered before completing dropping as he took in the situation. He barely even remembered what he’d said but, obviously, you didn’t take it well.
He felt a pang of guilt as he looked at you on the couch, crying into your hands. He knew you were in a bad mood when he got home. Of course, he didn’t know just how bad of a mood.
He saw your irritation right off that bat, he had asked what was wrong and you had brushed him off, snapping at him slightly. 
That’s about when Vox had decided to escalate the situation. Throwing annoying taunts at you, teasing you, begging for you to do something about it.
Of course he wanted a reaction, but more on the lines of you slamming him against a wall and putting him in his place. Under no circumstances did he think you would start crying.
And yet, here you were, crying into your hands on the couch, over some bratty remark Vox had made.
“I— uh, my dear, I didn’t mean anything—“ he tried to clarify, stretching his arm slightly out as if to touch you. He wasn’t sure what to do.
“Shut up, Vox,” you cried, “Don’t you know when to shut up?” Your words weren’t laced with venom or overly angry liked he’d expected. In fact, that would have been better.
In contrast to your usual nature, you just seemed overall sad. More than sad, Vox thought, totally spent. 
It was no secret he was terrible at comforting people, giving people false hope and manipulating them into doing something for him, sure. But this?
Well, convincing someone they feel better and actually making someone feel better were incredibly different. He was totally lost.
Your sobs got louder and more violent as moments passed. And yet, he stood there like an idiot, giving you a blank stare.
As if going through the motions, he recites a list in his mind. What to people usually do to help someone when they’re crying? Maybe, give them a hug?
He sighed and sat down next to you on the couch, cautiously putting his hand your shoulder and rubbing gently. 
Apologize next, Vox’s mental list demanded. 
“Look,” he started, awkwardly fiddling with his collar, “I didn’t mean to bother you by giving you all that shit. I knew you weren’t in the mood I just—“ 
He struggled with the next part, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
The strange thing is, he really really meant it. Usually, an apology for Vox was one step further in getting what he wanted all along. However, this time the fact he made you cry actually erked him like nothing else before.
He apologized solely because he wanted you to feel better.
“I’m just not in the mood for your shit, Vox,” you  answer, choked out and muffled as you wipe the tears from your face. 
“I know. Well, now I do.” He went over his metal list once more, “So what’s got you so out of sorts this evening, my dear?”
“I’ve just—“ you sniff, trying to take in your thoughts, “—I’ve had a long day.”
“I’m all ears,” he answers immediately. If there’s one thing Vox was good at, it was listening.
You rant to him about the mishaps of the day, how fed up you were with so-and-so, how tired you were of life being so hard.
The entire time, Vox listened, plotting the perfect reply out in his mind, and checking off boxes on his list.
“Well, it’s over now, your home. And I won’t be an asshole anymore,” He says, earning a raised eyebrow from you. 
“I’ll try not to be an asshole anymore,” he corrects, provoking a small but noticeable smile out of you. He rewards himself, internally.
Hug them, he told himself. 
He moved closer to you and hesitantly wrapped his arms around your stomach, rubbing your back gently. To his delight, you ease into the hug, arms looping around his neck as you recovered from your breakdown.
“You’re so not getting laid tonight, by the way,” you joke, still in the hug.
“Yes, my dear. Unfortunately, I figured.” he sighed and continued rubbing your back.
“Do you wanna go watch TV upstairs?” you inquire.
“Always,” he grinned.
“Do you wanna keeping hugging while we do that,” you ask, genuinely curious.
His smile softened, “always.”
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a/n — and then the next day you railed him into a mattress until he was crying harder than you ever were. The end.
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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months
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Sorry, Top (Rafe Cameron Blurb) +18
Minor DNI
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Had to adjust this little Hargrove blurb for my OBX friends because I think it's pretty dark!rafe coded, IMO. Sorry, Topper.
Fingering, dry-humping, name-calling, mutual masturbation, manipulation, Rafe doesn't ask or wait for permission, reader wants to go farther
Dark!Rafe x Inexperienced Female Reader (Topper's GF who has always had a thing for Rafe)
Reader's POV:
You lower your eyelids a little more, trying your best to look like you're sleeping as you watch Topper's best friend palm himself over his white Calvin Kleins.
Your heart starts to pick up pace, anticipation building as his roommate hooks his fingers around the elastic band. The blonde draws them down nice and slow, making butterflies flood your stomach as he releases his cock. Holy shit…
You can feel your body pulse head to toe, a foreign feeling between your thighs, wet against the fabric of your panties. What the fuck?
Your hand roams slowly down your own body, doing your best to keep up your facade of sleep. Your thighs widen on the dorm mattress as your fingers slip under your little satin shorts.
Rafe reaches over to the nightstand, snagging some lube from the drawer. You never thought once about why he would rummage around there in the middle of the night, but now you can't stop.
How many times has he jerked off like this? With us here?
Your fingers meet your slit, making your stomach sink as you feel how absolutely soaked you are. For Rafe? You run your fingers through your wet folds, feeling the slightest bit of relief.
Rafe wraps his hand around his thick dick, eyes batting to a close as he starts to stroke. Fuck. I've only seen a cock before in porn… I didn't want to be completely untaught when Topper finally made his move.
Rafe's big… Shit. He's so fucking huge. His swollen head glistens with lube, somehow even harder after the touch of his own hand.
Your body aches; your gliding hand no longer doing the trick. Your fingers find their way down to your entrance, pressing inside, making you bite back a moan.
You start to match his pace, stuffing your fingers into your cunt at the same cadence. Rafe throws his head back on the pillow, making your heart skip as your name falls from his pretty lips.
My name? Me?
You feel your adrenaline course through your veins. Baffled that he would be choosing you from the roster of women he usually has in his bed, sometimes one, sometimes two.
Say it again...
“Bounce on my cock, Princess,” he grunts. It's not my name… but it's what Top calls me. Your wrist bumps against your clit. Ugh. That felt good. More.
You slip your other hand down your body, pressing against your nub, a feeling so good you can't help but release a breathy whine.
Topper moves out of the corner of your eye, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets out a little snore. Guilt starts to creep in as you see him sleeping so peacefully, so sweetly, his messy blonde hair piled on his pillow.
But I can't fucking stop.
Your eyes quickly shift back to Rafe, making you jump slightly as you see him standing right in front of you, incredibly close. You take a little breath, eyes working higher on his body. His eyes lock on yours; his stare is dark and deep.
He grabs the comforter, peeling it off your body. You feel the chill of the wetness between your thighs, making your eyes fall low.
“M’gonna help you with that, princess. Don't worry,” he breathes; you can hear his cockiness through his hushed tone still.
“What do you mean? W-What are you doing?” You ask softly as he lowers his body on top of yours. You expel a breath as he presses himself against you.
Rafe buries himself in the crook of your neck, lips pressing against your hot skin. You take in his smell, his rich cologne clouding all your senses. “Let me help you,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “Don't worry, Angel. Put my boxers on… Would hate to get that sweet pussy before Top does. Couldn't control myself otherwise.”
“Rafe… I-” You’re cut off by his lips, pressing roughly against yours, swallowing your gasp as he grinds his clothed cock against you.
He bumps your clit with his rock-hard bulge, swallowing your moan. “That’s it, huh? Feels good. Yeah?”
“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” you whimper.
“Wanna make you feel good,” he pants against your kiss.
It does… It feels good. So fucking good. Heat burns behind your eyes because of it, eyes glassing over the thought of doing this to Topper, so close to Topper.
“B-But Topper?”
If I wanted this to stop, all I'd have to do is say the word. All I'd have to do is call for Top, but all I want to do is scream for Rafe.
“Go ahead, baby. Wake him up. Say his name. Let me deal with him. Yeah? Or, I could just deal with you...”
“I don't know, Rafe.”
“Good friends share, sweetheart.”
“Rafe...”
“Stop actin’ so innocent. Like you weren't watching me stroke my cock. Like I couldn't hear that wet little pussy from over there,” he hisses as he grinds harder into you. “Caught’cha, didn't I?” He smiles against your lips, making heat spread across your body.
Rafe releases a moan, then another, getting off on you and you on him. You reach around his body, tugging slightly at the elastic of his boxers.
“You trying to take ‘em off, Princess?” He taunts. “Nah… Not today. Gonna get you just like this. But, tonight… You gonna let me taste you tonight, baby?”
“Yeah…”
He chuckles darkly, making chills fall down your body straight to your aching core.
“Naughty little thing. Aren't you?”
Rafe rolls his hips again and again, grinding his clothed cock against your sex as you whimper in sensitivity. “Can feel how wet you are through my boxers. Bet your panties are soaked, you little slut.”
Your back arches at the sounds of his devilish words. The tears in your eyes tumble down your cheeks as you feel your climax about to overtake you. Rafe's blue jean eyes soften on yours. “Hey… Hey. It's gonna be okay,” he soothes. “You gonna cum?” He asks between gentle kisses.
Your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip, eyes rolling back in your skull. “Cum for me, angel,” he whispers as he draws up your shirt higher.
He grips his cock. His ruddy head leaking at the tip. Rafe lowers himself to your ear as he continues to rut.
“I’m gonna… Fuck, Rafe,” you whisper, digging your heels into the mattress as you hold back your blissful cries. You moan his name as your pussy flutters around nothing.
Rafe answers with your name on his lips, hot wet ropes of cum landing on your bare skin. Rafe reaches down, running two ringed fingers through his spent.
“Open.” You open your mouth, Rafe's digits making their way in between. “Suck.” You suck on his fingers all the way to his gold rings, tasting cum for the first time. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
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yok00k · 4 months
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telepatía
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pairing: idol!jk x model!oc
genre: fluff!
“a kilómetros estamos conectando”
—synopsis: when you’re getting ready for a party and jungkook, who’s thousands kilometers away from you, wants to video call.
word count: 1,082
warning: ldr, they’re disguisingly so cute, the word “baby” was said for about 1 million times it’s sickening, different timezones, oc dress in front of jk, mention of insomnia, anxiety, stress, mention of an uncomfy situation of oc where other men were being men, protective jk (this jk is not a manipulator, trust), 1st person pov(im so sorry)
author’s note: my second drabble/fluff!!! this was shorter than I wanted it to be but there will be few (idk how many, it depends to the future me) series of idol!jk x model!oc. <the meaning of ‘mahal ko’ means ‘my love’ in filipino>
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Taking a cold shower after having an intense leg day plus cardio at the gym hits so different. I feel like a brand new person after getting out of my bathroom. I then settle down in front of my vanity table and begin doing my skin care + makeup. As I finished a smooth base of foundation, my phone vibrated.
2 messages received from
mahal ko🐰🤍
|| hey baby
|| can we facetime plz? wanna see u
[10:33 pm]
his text was unanticipated at this hour since it’s 5 am in Korea.
me
|| sure bb
[10:34 pm]
mahal ko wants to facetime
drop everything i have with my hands, i swiftly hit the green button, eagerly to see and hear his voice. we’re mostly texting these days because of having different time zones and working schedules to follow. Oftentimes when he’s free and wants to facetime me, I would be either at work or sleeping and vice versa.
“hi pretty!!” he cheerfully greeted me as my phone screen revealed his cute sleepy face. As usual, he’s wearing one of the eight Supreme beanies i got for him when I was in Tokyo. [side story: i was just strolling in the streets of Harajuku when i found this one clothing store that has a lot of stuffs i know jungkook would like and that’s when i bought those comfy beanies along with other nice things]^_^
“helloo, my ggukie can't sleep?” i asked while finding something i can lean my phone on so that i can continue doing my makeup
“응.. i'm trying to sleep but can’t.“ he simply explained as he placed his phone on the side of his bed, moving his naked body to a more comfortable lying position. His arm filled with cool, artistic tattoos is out and on sight, while his other arm were covered with the thick white comforter, so as his entire body.
“What's been going on in your mind?” I know that something is bothering him at times like this. i get that having the job and lifestyle he has, isn’t merely easy. the pressure, the media, the fans, everything. But although he deals with all these things, I never once heard him complain about them because he knows that that’s what he signed up for the day he chose to pursue being an idol.
“Just been stressed lately with rehearsals and I'm still jet lagged, maybe I have insomnia? ‘m not sure but it’s driving me crazy. now i get what u mean when u say ur body is tired and ready to sleep but ur mind isn’t.” he further describes how he feels. The worry and anxiety is written in his facial expression.
“my poor kookie you could’ve call me earlier and i would help you to fall asleep”
“but you were at the gym. i know you like blasting reggaeton music while working out.” he pouty responds. well, in his defense he’s right. I love that he remembers small details about me but nothing can top my love for him.
“i do that but I prefer listening to my boyfriend’s angelic voice while working out so that i’ll have motivation to do more reps.” replied to him right off the bat. realistically i meant what i said. I usually don’t like talking to people when doing workouts but he is an exception.
I received no words but a soft laugh. He must have thought I was kidding. I took a glance at him before I put lipgloss on[his favorite shade].
i can see him covering the blush he has all over his face. i'm very glad to see him having relief.
‘’Where is my pretty girl up to? hmm?” he curiously asks as i put highlights as my last step to finish up the look
“just going to the club for Sakura’s birthday party, i'm running out of social energy almost every day because of work and parties but I can't miss this event” I explained as I headed over to my walk-in closet.
“hmm ‘kay tell her i said happy birthday. what are you gonna wear?”
“well i'm debating on wearing a black leather mini skirt with this asymmetrical black top and for shoes i have this black knee high boots or i just go with this simple black mini backless dress with these red bottoms high heels” i say as i show him all the clothes. he and I almost have the same taste in fashion. if we were to combine all of our clothes, they are pretty much all black. whenever it’s shoes, jackets, tops, pants, etc. this is why buying clothes for one another isn’t difficult for us.
“What did I tell you about mini skirts bb?” oh. i forgot that he allows me to wear mini skirts unless i’m with him since an incident happened when i was in the club and random guys were making me so uncomfortable by giving disguising lust looks and nastily commenting on my skirts. Although he and I know that no matter what a girl wears, guys in the clubs will act like animals regardless. He told me to not wear it because he’s controlling me but rather because he won’t be there to protect me if something happens.
“ok then the second choice it is” i confirmed, putting the first outfit choice back to where they belong.
“how about you wear that mini skirt when we go on a date? how’s that sound?” he suggests.
“ok then ggukie”
“dress in front of me?” he boyishly asks, using his deep alluring voice. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How can I say no to him?
After dressing, I proceeded to put on the Cartier necklace with his initials in it that he gifted to me when he first came to visit my penthouse in Chicago.
“still have my oversized leather jacket with you?” he inquire before he yawned
“yupp, why?” I curiously asked
“bring it with you please. i don’t want you getting cold in there” he softly requested. him and his simple gestures make me fall in love with him deeper.
“i will baby thank you”
“i love you ___, don’t look at other men” jk murmur jokingly. Well, I hope he said that in a humorous way for the reason that I assure him with my sincere words almost every hour.
“ I love you more gguk i’ll update you ok?” he just hums, waving his hands leisurely to say goodbye.
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ichimerapunk · 9 days
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Scene/ part of a story idea I want to put into a fanfic somewhere at some point
So, Danny had been staying with the Waynes. One evening without warning the GIW show up and managed to brute force their way into the manor and past Alfred just long enough to take down Danny and take off with him into one of several white vans of theirs.
The Bats, who had just left for their nightly patrol, give chase. However right before they catch up to the vans booking it out of Gotham, an 18 wheeler pulls out in front of the vans blocking their way. As several of agents pile out to confront the driver (and then pull out their guns when the truck is empty), they don’t automatically notice as the agents that were in the van containing Danny are yeeted out of the vehicle, unconscious.
The remaining agents turn in time to see what appears to be Danny being carried off by another ghost. The remaining agents pile into the remaining vans and take off down a side road to follow them. Jason and Dick are ordered to follow them. At the same time the doors of the remaining van close and Dan behind the wheel takes off.
With Sam giving directions over comms and Tucker manipulating traffic lights Dan intentionally gets as many cops as possible on his tail, driving the van just how his dad taught him in the GAV. The cops are quickly joined by Tim on his bike. During the chase Barbara manages to hack into the signals of whoever had been changing the lights and, through abnormal static, heard several voices coordinating their every move. After catching the attention of enough cops, Dan, while evading but not losing them, books it towards where the remaining vans are still chasing who they think is Danny. Dan catches up to them under an underpass/ short tunnel and uses a brief moment of being obscured by the police to wedge himself in amongst them. [Basically, take the opening chase scene from Baby Driver for the most part; I’m unashamedly taking inspiration from that.]
The vans are all unmarked and have tinted windows. The police have no way of quickly discerning which van they had been chasing down and so the now large number of police surround and forcibly stop all them. (Enjoy getting tied up with that mess for a while, agents.) As they are being stopped, Tim jumps off his bike and runs to the one he knows Danny was in only to just in time see someone that looked like Danny, but had long hair and eyes that turned from blue to red, disappear without a trace.
Above them, the two fleeing figures also disappear. Dani/Ellie* had been dressed as Danny and had been carried by a Dan duplicate. Back near where the chaos happened, Jazz slips out of her hiding spot in the shadows struggling with an unconscious and injured Danny. As soon as she slips out of her hiding spot, Batman appears having not been fooled by the distractions.  
That’s the basic rough idea of it. I don’t know if this scene sounds at all as epic and cool as I imagine it to be. I think hope it could actually be pretty cool if I can manage to write an action scene.
*Not sure which I would go with in the story
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