➽──────────────❥

For a moment, the sun is blotted out as you stand over Donna. She picks her head up and squints at you behind rose-colored sunglasses that take up half her face. “Finally,” she says.

You toss down your towel, connect it to hers. “Hey, I needed a nap. Somebody wouldn’t let me sleep in.”

She sits up. “Keep going. No, really, keep it up and I’ll have an excuse to get the cuffs.”

“No arguments.”

She flips open the tube of sunscreen and you move wordlessly to give her your back. The cream is cold, causing you to jolt when it touches your skin, but her hands are warm and firm as they work it in. The sigh from your lips isn’t wholly appropriate, but there’s nobody close enough to hear. Her fingers slip under the strap of your bikini for a moment before dipping lower to your hips.

“Turn around,” she instructs, and you obey, giving her your chest. She holds out the tube of sunscreen for you to take. “Did you really think that?”

You pout, but take the tube and finish applying it yourself as she lays back down.

➽──────────────❥

You can't remember falling asleep until you're being shaken awake under a deepening sky, Donna laughing above you.

“Get up.” She smacks your ass playfully as you bury your head in your arms. “The tide's coming in. We need to move.”

You're reluctant despite the waves licking the edge of your towel, having been ripped from a delicious dream, and it's a struggle to help her collect everything. Towel thrown over your shoulder, you follow her up the steps back to the hotel pool area to rinse your feet free of sand before making your way inside.

The air conditioning is a shock to your system. Goosebumps run up your arms as you shiver in the elevator, and you seek out the hottest thing available, burying your face against Donna's neck as she wraps you in a hug. You're both still sticky with sunscreen and sweat, the smell of both sweet on her skin. It's too much to handle for your sleep-addled brain. Your beach dream sits at the back of your mind and between your thighs; she can't blame you for the kiss placed against her neck, just under her ear.

You brush your hands over her hips, curl your fingers around the waist of her bikini bottoms. She stretches her neck and you obey with another kiss, this one to her throat, sucking gently to leave behind your mark. You can feel her hum of pleasure vibrate on your lips.

“Cameras,” she whispers. You don't care much, but you keep your kisses reserved as the elevator makes the climb up to the eighth floor.

The walk to your room is difficult, your legs jelly and heart burning in your core. Getting the door open is an exercise in self-control.

The levee breaks.

Your back crashes against the soft mattress, blankets still a mess from this morning. Donna's lips meet yours before you find the time to take a breath, but that's fine, that's perfect; instead of oxygen you breathe her in as her body envelops yours. Fingers tangle in hair, slick from the salt air; her teeth graze your bottom lip, bite gently, tug. You chase after when her mouth leaves yours, cupping the back of her head to bring her back. Busy hands shove up the front of your bikini and squeeze roughly, not giving you time to readjust, to control the whimper from your throat.

Donna grins against your lips. This is where you belong, underneath her with all your little noises.

Donna's warm hand leaves your breast, exposing pert nipples to freezing air. You try to sit up to follow her again but she pushes you down by your shoulders and flattens you against the bed before grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you down to meet her better.

You open your mouth to speak but a weak moan comes out, nothing tangible, as she sinks her teeth into your neck. Hard enough to arch your back but not to break skin. She's perfect at walking that line, and all you can do is dissolve under her pressure.

Fingers tug the knots on your bikini, make quick work, and toss the fabric aside. She doesn't bother with her own before diving in again to pepper now exposed skin with kisses. You try to follow her path but don't dare lift your head for a better look, and when her lips wrap your nipple and her gaze flashes up, you've already given in.

Down, down…hot, wet lips taste the salt and sea that clings to your skin. Instinct and deep-rooted need has your thighs opening for her, but she stops at your hip bone and straightens up. Your breath catches in your throat watching as she raises her hands to the back of her neck to untie her bikini top.

As soon as the fabric slips away, you're up, burying against her breasts for your turn. Donna tugs your hair to pull you off. “Did I say you could do that?”

Caught in her grip, you shake your head.

“Lay down.”

Submit. It aches to watch her get off the bed and leave you behind, to open her suitcase on the floor. A moment feels like a millenia before she's at your side again, slipping off her bikini bottoms and letting them fall to the floor. You lick your lips, ready for whatever she's planning, eyes jumping between her and the bottle of lube in her hand.

She flicks the top open as she climbs on the bed again, returning to the space between your thighs. Your entire body is on fire. Either a fever or a sunburn, all her fault, doing this to you. A mess.

“Keep your hands on the pillow,” she says, dripping cold lube on your burning skin. “Move them again and I'll have to tie you down.”

“Not fair,” you mumble, but there's no true argument.

Her fingers slip in the lube, caressing the skin around your aching slit. Touching everywhere but the spot that might bring your release. They slick along your lower lips, dip between for the barest of moments, before slipping upwards again.

“Donna.” You're whining. You hold tight to the pillow case and lift your hips, chasing her touch as it leaves you again.

This time you have to watch as her fingers caress her own skin, where they're not nearly as teasing. Unashamed, Donna slicks lube-covered fingers over her clit and sinks them into her heat. A moan shudders past her lips and it pains you to know you're not the cause of it.

She tosses the lube aside and fixes one of your legs over hers, taking a seat on the other so the two of you are a tangle of limbs. Her slit kisses yours at the same time your mouths meet again. A jolt of electricity shoots up from your core, twisting you into desperate knots that only she knows how to fix.

Slow. Donna's finger grip your elevated thigh as she sets a laborious pace. You can't fight the jerk of your own hips to meet her movements, your core pulsing with the friction, wet with the combined slick of your juices. Heat rises off your skin in waves.

She drags her tongue up your neck. Her movements quicken to match her desperation. No words drip from either of your lips, only heavy panting, tongues tangling, tasting, and the lewd squelch of your bodies meeting. She buries against your neck as she keens, bending your leg down further until your knee hits your ribcage. She can break you in half for all you care.

Forgetting the demand she made earlier, you lift a hand from the pillow and squeeze between your bodies. Donna gasps as your fingers find their destination with ease, immediately applying enough pressure to her clit to throw her off the edge.

“You – ahh…” She cries out against your neck, body tensing and stilling as you work her down, rubbing quick, small circles. At the last second you slip two fingers inside her pussy and thrust. Once is all it takes.

Donna moans, eyes crushed shut and fingers digging into your thigh, as her release drips down your hand. With your thumb you stroke softly at her clit, working her through the aftershock of her orgasm.

Her body deflates atop yours. You pull your hand free to wrench her fingers off your thigh, where they've left behind little pink marks. They'll be bruises in the morning.

“I told you not to pick your hands up,” she says softly.

You gasp. “Oh no. Am I in trouble?”

Donna pushes up on one elbow, elevating her body just above yours. Her hair brushes your cheek. “I'll be nice, since you were so good. But I'm not giving you a third chance.”

The man tilts his head just into the light, enough for you to make out the red half-mask, the rest of his face obscured by a red hood. He's tall, and the parts of him you can make out are honed and muscled; he could pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like nothing, you know.

“You know it's not safe to be walking alone at night,” he says.

Your body can't decide if it's cold or hot. Hands shivering, cheeks flushed, you answer with a voice forced steady. “I can take care of myself.”

He moves faster than you can see, grabs you by the waist --you almost scream but choke on the sound when you remember that it's not real. You don't want to ruin the game.

Back against the rough wall of the alley, Jason stands over you in the darkness. You blink your eyes and force them to adjust so you can drink him in while dressed in the uniform reserved for patrolling the streets – he thought the fantasy was cute – half-mask, hooded, heavy boots, that belt that looks like it might be useful for tying you up…

He wraps a gloved hand around your throat while the other trails up your thigh. The leather is coarse against your skin as it slips under the hem of your dress. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach as you lose track of your breathing on the inhale. His hand on your throat tightens slightly as he leans in.

A finger makes a small circle on the inside of your thigh. You part your legs for him; the move is like taking a breath, something your body simply knows and does without thinking. The fingers move to the outside and grip your thigh to lift and open you further, making room for him.

Your mind flutters all over the place, to where else those hands have been, what they've been forced to do, how they've hurt and been hurt. His breathing is soft behind the mask, barely heard, his forehead pressed to the side of your head.

Those fingers continue. They grip the fat of your thigh just under your ass, pinch at the fabric of your panties. He can't see but he can feel that they're the pair he likes, the bright red lacy ones, with the little bow front and center. He moans softly, nuzzling against your neck. The mask is hard. Uncomfortable.

You reach a hand to where the mask is clipped and undo it. Jason picks his head up, says nothing, but removes the mask and lets it drop. The domino mask remains, obscuring his eyes from view.

Lips free, they find your neck, start slow with soft kisses peppered against your throat. The hand previously on your neck makes a path down ward and stops at your chest to pull down the already too low neckline of your fitted black dress – another favorite of his – to cup your breast.

“Fuck,” Jason groans, the word buried against your neck. Your arch into his touch, the rough leather creating a friction that immediately brings your nipple to attention. Inadvertently – maybe – you rub against his clothed election, straining against the fabric of his pants. This time he growls, nips at your neck. The second move is purposeful as you grind against him again.

His hands leave and move; grab and turn you roughly, force you to face the wall. Cold air bites your ass as your panties are ripped down to your knees and your dress is shoved up. You gasp – keep it down, you remind yourself – as two ungloved fingers sink inside your heat.

Jason grabs your hair and roughly pulls the strands to the side to kiss the back of your neck. “Already ready for me?” He curves his fingers deep inside, prompting you to tighten around him. “Good girl.”

You whimper, push back against his hand, but he pulls his fingers free. Between your thighs it's cold and wet, aching and desperate.

The clinking of his belt makes you whine again. He squeezes your ass as he undoes the front of his pants. Gives it a light smack as he shoves them down enough to pull himself free. You curl your fingers against the brick of the building and ground yourself as he grabs your hip. You’re on your toes to meet him as he prods your entrance, panties keeping your legs the perfect distance apart for him.

On a good night – a night shared in bed, under covers, where you could both take your time to explore the other’s body – he would not do what he does now, which is bury himself to the hilt in one hard thrust that fills your vision with stars. You cry out before his hand covers your mouth. He grinds inside you, a short, prodding thrust that presses that weak spot inside you.

“Shh.” He kisses your ear. “Somebody might hear. Are you trying to get caught?”

You shake your head, mumble no against his palm.

Still he doesn’t believe you, and his hand remains on your mouth. His body melts to yours as the hand on your hip slips between your thighs and gives your clit a light pinch. His thrusts are short, reserved – aimed exactly at that spot that he knows will undo you.

You tremble in his arms wrapped around you. If it wasn’t for them you’d be a puddle on the concrete. Your knees shake, almost too weak to support you, and he’s only just begun…his pants in your ear revealing just how much he’s holding back from destroying you in this alley while people walk past on the sidewalk only a few steps away.

More. “Jason,” you whine, muffled. You press back against him and force him harder inside you. He grunts as he meets the move with one of his own, pulling back further to slam into you.

“Needy.” He lifts your chin to bite your neck. You grind against him, make circles on his cock and tighten, urge him to fill and fuck you – to stop fucking teasing.

He frees your mouth. “Hands on the wall,” he says. “Hold on.”

You listen, flatten your hands onto the wall, as he adjusts and bends you to shape. Bent for him, his hands secure on your hips –

It’s impossible not to cry out. You’re too blissed out to care.

He fucks into you without abandon. Pulls almost entirely out, gives you half a breath to mourn the loss of him, before he slams into your starving cunt again and again and again. Those weak knees from before have completely given out, and without him you’d be scraping your face on the brick, but you hold on as he fucks you up that peak of pleasure. You moan, loud enough for the people inside the building to hear.

He smacks your ass. You whine, loudly again – another smack. You can’t be bothered to care that he’s punishing you, or maybe he’s not, maybe he knows you like it – this was your idea. You wanted this. Fucked by the man himself – bent over in an alley by the Red Hood.

Jason groans, a strangled fuck. His rhythm becomes erratic, some thrusts stretched out to prolong both your pleasures, quickened because he knows the two of you can’t stay here forever. He’s close.

You whimper, whine, as the knot inside snaps. Drips down your thighs as his end meets yours. His hands tighten on your hips hard enough to leave bruises – bruises you’ll see later that will drive you wild – and he leans forward to bury his face in your neck, to hide how out of breath he is against your skin.

You crumple back against him, and the two of you stay like that, locked together with your combined mess, for only a few minutes.

A minute is long in a cold, dark alley.

Finally, Jason pulls free from you with a sigh. You try to reach down to fix your panties but he has them first, and thank God he does because you probably would’ve fallen over. You lean back against the wall as he fixes his pants.

He smiles. With the domino mask obscuring his eyes, it’s charming, in a dark way.

Swallowing your beating heart, you have to look away for a moment, or else you’ll both be stuck in this alley forever.

He squats down to retrieve his mask and gives a playful kiss to your sore thigh. He looks up at you with that smirk on his face, the one you can't resist.

“You know, it's a pretty quiet night.” He kisses your other thigh, still looking up at you. “I don't have anywhere to be if you want to…keep this going.”

How good that sounds, but another fucking from him will render you completely unable to walk and you really don't want to sleep in the alley. You take his hands and guide him back to his feet.

“How about you come investigate my place?” You wrap your arms around the waist, and he hugs your shoulders.

“I could do that,” Jason says. “What sort of problems are you having?”

“Leaky pipes.” You laugh as you say it, which is enough for him. He steals the laugh with a kiss, a slip of tongue on tongue. On the street, a car horn sounds.

“I'll give you a ride home,” he says. “It really isn't safe. You know that, right?” There's genuine worry in his words.

“Not even with you cleaning the streets?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I'll try my hardest for you.”

You brush your thumb on his cheek as you kiss him a final time before the two of you leave the alley. It's barely midnight. Still early.

But when she reached the 32th photo.. she saw you. Donna’s eyes widened a bit, it was like she saw a ghost. She forgot you existed, why did she forget about that? She looked through more photos, your birthday, a day at the park, your hands intertwined, a butterfly park, and her favorite, your smile in the golden light.

Donna felt her heart flutter, why can’t she remember something so important? She needed to see you again. She couldn’t remember much, but she remembers your smile and your sweetest voice and how she yearns to see it again.

It took a while to find where you live, but when she was there. She was hesitant to knock at your door. She took a deep exhale then knocked on your door three times, hoping you were home.

She stood there for about a minute, knocking once again just to be sure. But then, she looked to her left and saw you. You were there staring, groceries in your hands and a look of disbelief painted all over your face.

“Donna?” you called out, “Is that you?”

Her heart ached at the sight of you. She didn’t even realize she was speechless, so much so that she couldn’t say anything. So she simply nodded her head, yes it was really her, in person, standing at your doorstep.

You immediately dropped all the groceries you were holding and crashed into her arms, embracing her tightly as if she was turning to dust at any moment. Donna was shocked, but she immediately welcomed your tight embrace. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you close to her.

Oh how she missed this feeling so much.

You buried your head on her shoulder, “I thought I’d never see you again..” you mumbled on her sleeve. “I’m here now,” she replied, holding you close “I’m sorry it’s been so long..”

She slightly recalls hugs like this, the times when you crashed in her arms when you were excited.

Or nights when she felt so exhausted and you’d comfort her with your tight embraces.

Donna remembers holding you when you were crying, when you needed comfort.

She remembers the way you would cling onto her, the way you’d rest your head onto her chest when you were tired.

But most of all, she remembers your smile. She remembers the warmth it always gave her.

Donna pulls away to look at your face, you were still so beautiful just as she remembers.

You looked back at her, “I thought.. you..” Donna saw your expression fall, her eyes saddened at your expression. “No.. I’m here. Trust me I’m here.”

Donna gently brought her hand up to your face, to reassure you that she was right there with you.

“Are you really real?” you asked, to be sure. She nods, caressing your cheek, “You tell me, if I’m not real. Could you feel this?” Donna gently tugged at your cheek, she slightly teased, hoping it would make you smile.

You smiled and that was all Donna wanted to see. Donna softly exhaled as she gazed into your eyes. She missed seeing this.. she missed you so much.

“Why don’t I help you carry your groceries?”

You looked back at the groceries dropped on your floor and you sheepishly smiled, “Oh, yes okay.” you said as you picked a few up. Donna can't help but chuckle softly, seeing you being sheepish was almost cute, and it was really nice seeing a part of you she remembers.

She bent down, picking up the last of your dropped groceries and followed you inside.

“Jason?” you called his name, watching as he looked at your direction.

His eyes went from your book in his hand to your reflection in the mirror. He closed his book and placed a bookmark on a page. “Yeah?” he answers back.

You held your smile as you pretended to ponder a bit, you turned your seat to look at him with a small smile. “Can I do something? It’s not much.” you asked him, Jason raised his brow, curious on what you were plotting.

"Depends on what it is," Jason replied, his eyes flickering with curiosity as he looked back at you. "What did you have in mind?"

“Depends,” Jason replies, placing his book on the side of the bed, “Do I need to get up?” he asks. You only shook your head as you got up and took your skin care bottles, “No, it's alright.”

He watched as you took your skincare products as he automatically shifted on the bed to make room for you, “Alright,” he said “What are you doing?”

You hummed as you made your way to the bed, placing your skincare products on the soft mattress. “Can I put these on you?” you asked with a smile on your face.

Jason furrows his brows as he looks at the bottles then you with a funny expression, “You want to put a bunch of sticky stuff on my face?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side a bit. “You’ll look real better.” you replied, “Come on, it’ll feel real good.” you coed as you scooted closer to his side.

Jason couldn't ignore the feeling stirring in his chest as you scooted closer to him. Your smile was infectious, and it made his stern expression soften slightly. But he still wasn't completely convinced. "I don't know if I want to walk around with a bunch of stuff on my face."

You slightly frowned as leaned your chin on his shoulder, “It’s just this once. I won’t do it again.” you said, looking at him with those eyes.

Jason looked at you for a moment as he watched your pleading look, then finally he gave up and sighs. "Fine," he conceded, "Just this once. But if it makes me look like a weirdo, you're going to hear about it for days."

You beamed as you got up from his shoulder and began to sort through your products. As you splatted some liquid in your hands you looked up at him, “You won't regret this I swear.”

"I sure hope I won't," he scoffed. "Just make it quick, I don't have all day." You then beamed as you started dabbing and smearing products all over his face. Jason couldn't help but wince, the sticky, sticky texture felt foreign on his skin, and he found himself flinching every now and then.

"This is really weird," he grumbled, yet his tone was laced with a bit of amusement “How much longer do I have to put up with this?" You only hummed as you placed some more moisturizer on his face, “It takes like fifteen minutes. Just relax.”

Honestly, you were surprised that he easily said yes. He wasn’t one to judge you whenever you use some skin products. If ever, you were really happy that he said yes. “Why do you keep flinching?”

“Ever got condiment on your face?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes “You can’t possibly compare this to condiments.”

"Can't I? It feels just as weird," he retorted, he didn’t mean it though, he kind of likes this. You ignored his retort as you went over your pouch to find something. Jason peeked at whatever you were looking for, god hopes it isn’t anything ridiculous.

“And what is that?” he points as you took out a sachet. You turned to him with a small “Face mask.” you replied as you began to tear the sachet off.

Jason's eyes widened a bit as you tore the sachet open and revealed a face mask. "You're really going all in, huh?" he crossed his arms. "And what am I supposed to do with that thing on my face?"

You begun to place the mask over his face, “Nothing, you just wait till your face feels fresh.” you answered him, “besides, this is my last one so I’m gonna use it on something productive.”

Well.. Jason couldn’t argue with that logic. He slouched his shoulders as he accepted his face, staying still as you placed the mask on his face. He took the opportunity to steal a glance at you, he saw your eager and determined look and he can’t help but think its endearing.

When he was distracted, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of him. When he was distracted, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of him. His eyes suddenly darted to you for a moment, noticing the flash from your phone.

"Are you taking pictures of me now?" he frowns. You only smiled to your phone as you looked at the photo, “If I take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you said.

Jason huffs as he looks at you in disbelief, what is he going to do with you? "Show me.” he says, reaching out for your phone. You gave him a mirror instead, “No way you have that.”

Jason took the mirror and took a look. His reflection looked so.. unamused? The face mask covering his face and the expression he was wearing didn't help in making him feel any less like an idiot.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.

"Do I really look like this?" he asked. “You can take it off now if you want.” you replied. As he removed the mask and threw it on the trash bin beside him, he took the mirror again and looked at himself.

You peeked on his side, looking at him “What do you think? You look nicer now right?” Jason inspected himself in the mirror, tilting his head from side to side as he observed his reflection.

"I think I actually look a bit less like a complete lunatic," he admitted. "You're right, I do look a bit nicer now.”

He couldn't deny the small pang of joy he felt from seeing you happy and content. He couldn't explain why, but.. seeing you enjoy something as mundane as applying clay textures on his face made him feel a little warmth in his chest.

It was stupid but still.

"You're really into this skincare stuff, huh?" he says, leaning on the headboard as he watches you fix yout stuff. “Not so,” you replied. “I just like it when you let me do stupid things.”

"Stupid things, huh?" he repeated, “So you think this whole skincare thing is stupid?" you shrugged, “It probably is to you.” Jason scoffed, he never thought he would be sitting around letting someone apply skincare on his face.

You chuckled at his scoff, “What I’m saying is.. you’d let me do anything to you which is nice.” you said, “You always do.”

His expression softens you. he admitted, his tone genuine. "Well, its cause I don't mind. I just don't want you to expect I'll say yes every time, alright?"

“I’ll try.” you replied.