Red Hood's lawyer

“I just don’t get it,” you say from behind your phone, idly scrolling while a newscast plays.

Wally tilts his head at you from where he’s sitting on the other end of the couch. “Get what?”

You gesture to the TV where a recently-released bank robber is giving a statement about his experience in prison. He’s wide eyed and looking off into the distance as he details his capture—specifically, his dealings with the Flash.

“I don’t get why people think the Flash is scary.”

And you mean it. In all the time you’ve known Wally, for as many times as you’ve seen him as The Flash, he’s never come across as scary. Egotistical, yes. But scary? The meaning of the word is lost on you when it comes to him.

Wally laughs. “Excuse me?”

“Like yeah, you run fast. But you’re not Batman, or Nightwing, for that matter. It would be like being afraid of Superman.”

It’s hard to read the expression on Wally’s face, a strange sort of mix between offended and amused. “You’re being serious?”

You nod slowly, a growing concern gnawing at your chest from the glint of mischief in his green eyes. You know that look, and it never means anything good.

He’s on his feet and leaning over you in an instant, face hovering only inches from yours. “Imagine this,” he breathes, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is. “No matter how fast you run, no matter where you go, I will find you.”

You swallow, blinking up at him. Maybe it’s the way he’s saying it or it’s the feral look in his eyes or it’s the way you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but it’s like a switch goes off in your head.

“Show me.”

It’s Wally’s turn to be taken aback. He pulls away—just slightly—and cocks his head at you. “S-show you?” He sputters.

You him in agreement, stubbornness set across your features. “Show me,” you repeat yourself. “I want to know what it feels like.”

He laughs in a poor attempt to cover up the slight flush on his cheeks, the slight strain to his sweatpants. There’s a thousand things he could—he should—say right now. But he doesn’t.

“And what do I get if I catch you?”

You fight the heat rising to your face, briefly flicking your eyes away from him and taking a breath to keep your composure. Wally’s eyes never leave you, burning holes into you with the intensity of his gaze.

“What do you want if you catch me?”

He pretends to think about it, comically tapping a finger on his chin like he’s deep in thought. You expect some sort of humiliation ritual, or some ridiculous favour like doing his laundry for weeks.

You don’t expect what he says next.

“You kiss me.” He looks at you seriously, “and a real kiss. I want some tongue in there.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t taken by surprise. It’s not like you’ve never thought about it, not like you haven’t had some strange moments with Wally in your friendship. And maybe it’s the October chill or maybe it’s something else entirely but you’re feeling bold all of a sudden.

“Deal.” And though you know you’re probably doomed, you can’t help but tease just a little bit more, “and what do I get when you don’t catch me?”

“Don’t need to worry about that, doll.” In the blink of an eye, he’s clad in his Flash costume and the motherfucker winks at you. “There’s nowhere you could run that I won’t find you.”

-

Wally gives you a thirty minute headstart but even that doesn’t feel long enough.

You manage to disappear into a wooded area just slightly out of town, having taken an Uber and walked several kilometers to get there. Now, hidden among the trees, nervousness crackling up your spine like lightning, you count the minutes.

Any minute, he’ll be here, blue lightning beneath his feet and a smug smile on his face. Any minute, you’ll duck further into the darkness, into the cold night air that bites at your skin, and hope he doesn’t see you.

Any minute, he’ll find you and you’ll run and he’ll catch you, and then you’ll have to kiss him. 

You hear him before you see him. The leaves rustle, the air becomes charged and then there’s a flash of lightning off to your left. He stops maybe ten feet away from you, leaning against a tree.

He calls your name, bemused and taunting. “Are you out there?” There’s more rustling, footsteps coming closer, “I know you’re out here.”

You draw yourself closer into the tree, trying to blend into the shadows cast in the waning moonlight. His footsteps draw closer, each one dragged across the leaf covered ground, each one a warning.

“Come on, don’t you wanna play with me?” He chuckles darkly, “I know you wanna kiss me.

You dig your nails into the wood, pressing your lips into a harsh line to keep yourself quiet. His feet are heavy on the ground, each step punctuated with a call of your name and a huff of breath.

“I’ll find you, baby.” The pet name sends heat to your stomach, “you know I’ll find you.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs and then Wally is suddenly next to you, face inches from yours. 

“Gotcha,” he breathes, laughing when you flinch away. 

You look at him through your lashes, only now realizing he has you pinned between himself and the tree. 

He raises his eyebrows, propping an arm on the tree, “I believe I’m owed something.”

You sigh like it’s the worst thing in the world but excitement catches in your chest, butterflies flooding your stomach. You nod slowly, letting your eyes flutter closed, a hand trailing up his shoulders to cup his cheek.

Your lips are inches from his when you duck under his arm and sprint away. Wally lets out a sound of surprise, taking a minute to process before he’s tearing away after you. You make it maybe 30ft before his arms are around your waist and he’s snatching you off of your feet.

You struggle against him, becoming deadweight in his arms in hope he’ll falter. Wally doesn’t let up, hauling you into his arms, his grip on you ironclad.

One minute, you’re running from him and the next, you’re pinned against his bedroom door, mere feet away from the couch where this had all began. You blink, lightheadedness making your stomach churn.

“You—” You swallow harshly, gripping Wally’s hands to ground yourself, “you gotta warn me before you do that.”

The redhead is unphased, one of his hands resting on your hip possessively. “Are you okay?”

There’s something in the way that he looks at you that has your knees quivering. That look in his eyes—like he wants to ruin you just as much as he wants to care for you—only makes the dizziness worse.

“Fine, yeah.”

Silence hangs in the air, the promise of kissing Wally dangling over you. You look at him, seeing the flecks of amber that linger in the green hues of his eyes, counting every freckle that dusts his cheeks and every unreasonably long eyelash.

And then he’s leaning in, not so much kissing you as he is falling into you, giving himself to you. You press yourself into him, hands travelling up his forearms to cup his warmed cheeks, fingers hooking beneath his cowl to tug it off. 

The cowl slides off easily, hanging down his back and giving you easier access to his mop of red curls. Your fingers tangle in them, tug at them, run through the strands of his hair. 

His kiss is desperate and needy, tongue and teeth coming together to punctuate his need. You’re drunk on him, drunk on this moment. His taste floods your mouth, seeps into every tastebud, fills you until he’s part of you.

You pull away gasping, shaking, eyes wide. You expected a thousand things from kissing Wally—shame, awkwardness, unreciprocated feelings—but you hadn’t braced yourself for the overwhelming need you feel right now.

“Wally—”

He nods, entirely understanding. And then his hands are slipping beneath your thighs and he’s picking you up. You wrap yourself around him, lips locking with his in a messy kiss while he carries you to the bedroom and tosses you onto the bed.

The sheets smell like him, still messy and unmade from sleep last night. Your head hits the mattress, body bouncing back only to be pinned against it with Wally’s.

His hands hook into the seam of his costume, about to pull it off when you stop him. You shake your head, “keep it on. Please.”

His cheeks flush but he hums in agreement, hands returning to roam the landscape of your body. His face presses into the crook of your neck, planting kisses across his skin while his hands travel up your shirt to cup your breasts.

He squeezes once, twice, and then he’s pushing your bra up and brushing his thumb over your nipple. You arch up into him, mumbling his name.

“That’s it,” he mumbles, nipping at the skin of your shoulder, “say my name, doll.”

He pinches your nipple, silencing your whine by pressing his lips into yours once more. And then he’s pulling away so he can tug off your bra and shirt, leaving you topless and completely at his mercy.

His lips press to the centre of your collarbone and travel down from there, warm breath fanning over your skin with every desperate laden kiss. Your fingers find his hair once again, guiding his head as his lips find your nipple and close around it.

“Fuck, Wally, fuck.” You cry out, pulling his hair.

And he whines, fucking whines, blinking up at you. “That feel good?” He breathes, “tell me how to make you feel good.”

You can only nod, left breathless and aching for his touch. Wally goes back to your chest, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipple while his other hand pushes past the waistband of your pants.

His hand dips into your panties, surprised at how wet you already are. His thumb rubs over your puffy, sensitive clit and you feel him smile against your chest when your muscles clench and your back arches, pressing your chest further into him.

“So pretty when you’re like this.” He groans, rolling his hips into the mattress, desperate for friction, “wish I could see you like this all the time.

You whine, pulling on his hair until he pulls his face away from your chest and looks you in the eyes. “Wally.”

He cocks his head to the side, that serious look in his eyes.

“I need you.”

And it’s all you have to say before he’s ripping off your pants and discarding them off the end of the bed. For a moment, you’re tempted to cover up, to close your legs and hide yourself away from him.

But the look on Wally’s face stops you because he’s looking at you in awe, like you’re some beautiful piece of art he has no choice but to admire.

“Wally.’

Though you don’t say it, the ‘hurry up’ is evident in your voice. He laughs breathlessly, propping himself up on his knees to undo the crotch panel on his costume. It feels like an eternity before his cock slips out, rock hard and dripping in pre and more than ready for you.

He strokes himself while his eyes graze your body.

“Wally,” you whine again, “please.”

“One sec sweetheart.” He brings a hand between your thighs once more, his fingers vibrating as they reach towards your throbbing heat.

One finger dips inside of you and the vibration is more than enough to have you whining and throwing your head back into his pillows. He pumps it in and out of you a couple times before slipping the other one inside, working you open as he inserts himself between your legs.

Then he’s pulling his hand away and grabbing your thighs, tugging you harshly towards him and hooking your legs around his waist. His cock rubs through your folds, collecting your slick on his head before slowly pushing inside of you.

He groans when his cock splits you open, propping himself on his forearms on either side of your head. His biceps ripple beneath the costume, muscles tensed while he slowly bottoms out.

You clench around him, eyes shut and mouth falling open in an o shape that Wally wishes he could stare at forever.

He pulls out before slamming himself back in, hips meeting yours and cock bottoming out. “Feel so good,” he groans and his lips fall over yours, not quite kissing but close enough you can feel him. “Wish I could live in your pussy.”

You whine his name, locking your legs around his hips and your fingers on the back of his neck. Each thrust has him fully inside of you, each time he pulls away leaves you burning and desperate for more. Each time he pulls out, your legs tighten a little more around him, your hesitancy at him pulling out evident.

That heat in your stomach is nearly insatiable, your pussy dripping wet around his hard cock. You push your face upwards, catching his lips fully into a kiss. You rock your hips against his, trying to match his pace and meet his every thrust. 

Wally’s right there with you, giving you everything you need all at once. He lets himself fall against you, his weight only driving his cock further inside of you. His chest presses into yours, his head falling into the crook of your neck and then you’re coming undone.

You fall apart in his arms, wave after wave of hot pleasure rolling over you. Wally fucks you through your orgasm, his cock being milked by the way your walls are clenching around him. Your legs are wrapped so tightly around him he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to and before he knows it, he’s cumming inside you.

The two of you are left hot and gasping in his bed, the space between your bodies non-existent. 

“Fuck,” he groans, forcing himself to roll off of you. “I-I finished inside you but I can get you a Plan B or—”

You roll onto your side to face him, planting a weak kiss to his nose. “S’okay,” you murmur, “felt really good.”

He idly twines a strand of your hair around his finger. “How’re you feeling?”

“I just fucked the Flash.”

“Mhm?” He pulls away for a minute, freeing himself of his costume so he can cuddle you properly. “And how was it?”

“Pretty good,” you draw yourself into his chest, face pressed into the muscles of his pecs. “Good thing you don’t finish as fast as you run.”

He laughs, kissing your forehead, “yeah, good thing.”

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