#Reader learned a valuable lesson that day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qierxing · 5 months

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Head empty just yandere Heartslabyul as your imperial harem members

yan!poly!Heartslabyul x Reader

tw/cw: dub//con, gender-neutral reader but referred with masculine terms, drugging, manipulation, implied somnophilia, political machinations

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you were raised with the expectation that you would shoulder the crown and rule over your people, justly and fairly. because of that, by the time you were crowned, your mindset compared to others your age was mature beyond what was considered normal.

you would be lying if you weren't bitter. Although you've long accepted that no one else could be trusted to rule this land and its people, you often wondered what your life would be like if there were no etiquette lessons and sword practices consuming your childhood.

In the end, it's all foolish dreams. You sit on your glittering golden throne and watch apathetically as the imperial court cheers and raises a toast to the new royal blood.

You were prepared for the responsibilities of a monarch, but what you weren't prepared for was your vassals' obnoxious nagging.

Your kingdom's tradition and laws have long allowed for polygamy, and your previous ancestors were known for their large harems. That day, you finally learned why: to ensure that royal blood would still be carried on, no matter what.

it's distasteful to you. you try to ignore your vassals all talking your ears off about potential consorts and lovers. but it's only so long before you crack.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first one to be by your side.

Not by choice. Duchess Rosehearts was the one who brought up her darling son to your vassals first, who then presented him to you. You would've turned them away, if not for the boy's eyes. Something in those stormy gray eyes makes your heart ache. His mother clutches her son's shoulder in a vice like grip that goes far beyond parental worry. Perhaps he too knows what it feels like to have no control over his life.

And so reluctantly, you let him join you as a consort.

It's not bad. Rather, he's so intelligent and diligent that you often ask him for help and advice on the kingdom's affairs, knowing that his strictness with himself and others provides a valuable impartial view that you can hardly find anywhere else. Besides, even if he is too stiff and formal at times, you appreciate his aid in paperwork that threatens to drown you.

in fact, he's so dedicated to carrying out his duty, that you find him nearly unrobed on your bed. Seven above, that nearly gave you heart palpitations. As attractive as he is, you have no intention of forcing the boy to give up his virginity against his will, even if he is married to you.

you explain this to him as patiently as you can, even when his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion, asking if he wasn't enough–but you shut that down immediately. He is more than enough, and he isn't obligated to do anything he doesn't want to, even if his mother taught him otherwise. the revelation shakes his mind, causing his walls and views to crumble before him in the following days. you would like to think he became less stiff as he realized his true worth.

That is when an unexpected addition to your harem happened.

Actually, it was completely by accident. Your servants had often brought you various snacks and sweets during your work, as you were infamous for being extremely cranky without the motivation of good food. When Riddle, of all people, brings you a strawberry tart while you’re in the middle of some particularly grueling financial budget papers, it gives you pause.

It's not that you didn't trust him. It’s just…this is the boy who refused to eat more than the healthy amount of sugar. Even if you offered him various pastries and cookies, he always shunned them, saying it wouldn’t be right for him to consume them.

So you spear a fork into the tart and bring it up to your mouth. When the bite meets your tongue, you swear your soul ascends to heaven. The taste is absolutely indescribable: the crust was flaky and light and the filling was sweet and creamy. This has got to be the best dessert you’ve ever tasted in your short life.

When you inquire Riddle about where he had gotten his hands on the tart, he shyly looks away from you and mumbles something under his breath. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to let it go with a request to send your highest compliments to the patisserie.

Since then, he is the one bringing you various treats, all unbelievably delicious tasting, each time you’re stuck among paperwork and meetings. You’re grateful, even if it does make you wonder who this mysterious patisserie is. You’re not particularly familiar with every kitchen staff member, but you would think that you would be aware of such talent residing in your walls.

The truth finally comes to light when Riddle bursts into your office one day, in tears and hyperventilating, as he collapses in your arms. Alarmed, you quickly try to make sense of his babbling words.

It turns out that the very patisserie wasn’t in your kitchens, as you thought. No, they were humble commoner folk who ran a modest bakery in the shopping district. Riddle had been secretly visiting the bakery whenever he had the time to buy their desserts and to visit his friend, the owner’s son. Problem is, his mother had found out and was furious that her son would debase himself and his reputation like that.

Trey Clover stands behind his parents with wide, frightened eyes as Duchess Rosehearts shrieks on about how she’ll shut down the establishment herself for daring to corrupt her son and so forth. It’s rather annoying that she would go this far in the name of parental love–thankfully she stops screaming once she catches sight of you.

For once, you’re thankful for the absolute authority of imperial power. Duchess Rosehearts begrudgingly draws back when you block her attempt to defame the bakery. With a disappointed glare searing over the rest of you, she storms out of the bakery, door slamming shut behind her with a deafening crack.

You watch with mild interest as Riddle rushes forward and envelopes Trey in a tight hug that nearly knocks the tall man over. Despite the fact that Trey should be the one more distraught, he comforts Riddle with an ease that is almost suspiciously, dare you say, reminiscent of fondness. You look away before your thoughts dwell on it for too long.

Of course, it’s not all over. Trey’s parents kowtow at your feet with desperate gratitude, even if you beg them to stand up and raise their heads. As you glance over at Riddle in Trey’s arms, thoughts begin to arrange themselves into a proposal.

You and Riddle both know that Duchess Rosehearts would not stop here. Your presence was only a mere temporary hurdle in her plans to bring down Clover Patisserie, and there was no telling what she would do next. So, you propose something nearly unheard of to them.

Your vassals will throw an absolute fit if you openly sponsor their bakery and provide protection without something in exchange. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but this is the only way that Trey and his family would be safe.

Surprisingly, he accepts the proposal with grace, becoming the second consort of your harem that very day.

He inquires if there’s anything he should be aware of for his duties, making you laugh raucously and Riddle blush to the roots of his strawberry hair. You wave him off, telling him he only needs to do the things he loves and to bring you more of those tarts that cured your stress during your work times. The smile he gives is radiant and you wonder how it is that Riddle managed to find someone who makes the sun pale in comparison.

The next day, Riddle tells you between paperwork that he gifted Trey his own kitchen to bake and cook, and you nod in approval. It’s too easy to tease him over his obvious favoritism toward the baker, and it only makes you want to bully him more when his face becomes tomato red.

The annual royal banquet comes up and it dawns on both you and Riddle that Trey will have to present himself to the feral noble masses who are itching to know who this new addition is. The three of you are thrown into a hurricane of preparations, not just for the banquet, but to prepare poor Trey, who has never attended such an elite event, for the troubles ahead.

It’s certainly not for naught, you think, as you rake your eyes over your consorts. Their beauty outshines everything, in your personal opinion. When you make the introductory speech, you’re well aware that the audience in front of you is not just dazzled by you, but rather the two handsome men dutifully hovering behind you.

You hope that Riddle is enough of a buffer when the nobles inevitably swarm them with excited and curious eyes. As much as you would like to help, you were stuck with your own battles of greeting various guests and entertaining those who were trying to butter you up.

The Diamond family catches your eye first.

It wasn't something positive, per say. But it is quite hilarious as the Marquis introduces you to his family: his wife, his two elder daughters and his only heir and son–only to find the aforementioned son missing. He’s left stuttering in shame even if you don’t particularly mind. It would’ve just been another boring greeting, but at that moment, his eyes dilates in fear, and when you follow his gaze, you see why.

Cater Diamond is currently flirting with Trey. And very openly, at that.

The sight should make you furious, and yet you nearly burst out laughing. How could there be anyone this daring? Surely the young man would know better than to try hitting on an imperial escort–if he was aware that is, of the man being one.

You decide to be the merciful mediator, because Riddle is nearly about to blow a gasket by Trey’s side and Trey looks like he’s too flustered to appropriately reject the advances of the eldest Diamond son.

“Lord Diamond, I do believe your father is looking for you.” His face is full of surprise at the image of you grinning at him in amusement when you gently break the awkward atmosphere.

After he leaves in a hurry, your two consorts apologize profusely for letting the flirtations happen. You reassure them that it was fine, that whatever they liked to do was not meant to be dictated under your actions. However, their faces still remain guilty and dismayed, as though you had reprimanded them instead.

The encounter remains in your mind as an entertaining memory. So much so, that when your vassals pester you again on adding another member to your harem, your mind immediately goes to sparkling jade green eyes and vivid orange hair.

If anything it was on a whim. Of course, you consulted both Trey and Riddle before sending the invitation, and they both agreed, even if Riddle looked much grumpier than usual. You hardly believed that the proposal would be answered favorably; after all, you’ve learned from recent gossip that Cater Diamond was a rather well known playboy. You doubt that kind of man would enjoy being tied to an imperial harem, even if it was under your lax control.

Perhaps that is why it’s so surprising that when he finally is in front of you, he acquiesces to your proposal with no hesitation at all. You ask in disbelief if he was sure of his decision, and he affirms it with no distaste in his voice. He notes your incredulous face, giving a cheeky grin in response.

Apparently he's been wanting to separate himself from his family for a while. The reason for his scandalous affairs were only attempts at getting his family to send him away, but he never succeeded. He says that your proposition finally gave him the freedom to be away from his family. While you don't want to pry further, it confuses you on how the Diamond family managed to raise such an eccentric young man.

Regardless, he becomes the third member of your harem. There were some small tensions between him and Riddle, but thankfully they resolved rather quicker than you expected–it seems that although Cater acted rather laid back, he has skills in organization and networking that even Riddle had to begrudgingly acknowledge. Ask him on the most recent gossip on the nobles and he's sure to provide you a list alphabetized on the latest trends around the capitol. Besides, it seems him and Trey get along quite well—too well, in a way. You don’t think you’ve seen a pair more prone to exchanging sensual, fleeting touches. Well, that’s not your problem.

You pray that nothing more eventful comes up in the meantime. Trey could only supply you with so much cake and cookies before you simply keeled over from sugar intake.

It seems the Seven were not on your side.

The Knights' jousting tournament was something that slipped your mind. When it gets brought up on the agenda in a meeting you silently curse. In the racket of you ascending to the throne and tending to your harem, you had neglected a big aspect to your royal life.

Personal guards. Normally, you should've had personally assigned soldiers that would accompany you for protection, but you've kept putting it off since you were able to protect yourself just fine with your abilities. And hiring new people, for any reason, was always going to be a long chore of vetting, paperwork, and tests.

The worst part is that Riddle and Trey joined in on the nagging. Going on about how they worried for your safety as if you weren't already trained in self defense and swordplay since your childhood days. Cater just shrugs when you look at him desperately for help and winks while running off to who knows where. Traitor.

Whatever. The sooner you pick, the sooner they'll get off your back.

Somehow this year's tournament is rather disappointing. Your three consorts give commentary throughout the matches, but it cannot stop the boredom starting to overtake you. Trey discreetly offers you a cup of wine and you take it gratefully.

The announcer signals the start of a match, with Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade taking a stand against each other. You hear Riddle faintly murmuring to your side about how they look rather young to be in a tournament like this. But you're rather absorbed in their intense fight, to the point where Cater teases you, asking if your taste included younger men. you roll your eyes and tell him to be quiet.

The fight ends in a spine tingling draw. Both men have their swords knocked out of their hands, but they’re still glaring at each other with such raw passion, that it’s fascinating. You know you will hardly meet any others that could catch your attention.

The end of the tournament ends with the roar of the crowd shaking the colosseum and the boisterous victory announcement. The two of them weren’t finalists, but that matters little to you. The victor was impressive. But they weren’t what you wanted.

“Ace Trappola, at your service, your majesty.”

“Deuce Spade, at your command, your majesty!”

The two greet you with enthusiastic fervor that has you chuckling in amusement. They are just the breath of fresh air you need.

“Starting from today, you two will be my personal guards.”

They’re left with gaping mouths at your bold statement. Your consorts, too, are sputtering at your side. Riddle is already trying to convince you to reconsider. Trey is gently trying to ask if you’re really sure about this. Even Cater, for all his light-hearted banter, chokes an incredulous scoff, covering his mouth with a fist.

Yes, there’s always the threat of treason, and they might be slackers, but if you were going to have to employ someone, you’d rather it be someone entertaining.

Regardless, the two are knighted and become your guards in record time.

For several days, a persistent headache haunts you with how much Ace loved riling up Riddle for no reason, or Deuce somehow managing to blunder his way into destroying several pieces of priceless antique furniture. It takes only two days for Riddle to kneel at your side, begging you to please just switch guards, these two were ridiculously incompetent and not worthy to serve under you, but you only pat his head and send him off back to his chambers to rest.

Trey and Cater were arguably more agreeable, but you don’t miss their tired looks whenever they had to clean up after Ace pissing off a passing noble or Deuce somehow causing a fire when tripping over an iron poker. It makes you feel guilty, of course, but you still cling on. Call it stubbornness but you didn’t want to let go of the two. It was selfish, you know, and monarchs could never afford to be selfish, but was it so wrong for you to indulge in the only pair who seemed to disregard your status?

The answer came one hot summer evening, when you’re on your balcony trying to unwind. Tonight was the usual designated night to share a bed with your consorts, but you deigned to postpone it since you weren’t in the mood nor did you want to force the other three to deal with your sour attitude. It’s halfway through your third glass of wine that you were a rustle, then after starting your fourth, you hear footsteps, to which you turn and just narrowly miss a dagger aiming for your heart. The blade instead rips a gash through your left shoulder, causing you to grunt in pain, alcohol thankfully dulling most of the throbbing sensations. Unfortunately, your mind is hardly clear enough to have a steady stance to fight back properly, let alone see the assassin’s face.

You can’t believe you were going to die pathetically like this. If this was going to happen anyway, you should’ve at least finished your glass of wine—

Shouts, then sounds of clanging steel, and a blur rushed into your sight, tackling the hooded assassin and knocking him down. Deuce’s familiar blue hair registers in your blurry vision, holding down the assassin, while Ace’s flaming hair and eyes come closer in view, shouting something that keeps fizzling out to nothing. Your world tilts to its side suddenly, a loud buzzing in your ears, and everything goes black.

When you come to, you find Riddle with swollen, tear-crusted eyes hugging your bedsheets, while Trey exhaustedly sits behind him next to a wash basin and several empty vials. Cater was out cold on the chaise beside him, several papers littering his body. It seems that the assassin was quite thorough, as they made sure that if their sharp blade didn’t manage to end your life, then the quick acting poison laced upon the steel would. Ironically, according to the herbalist and doctor, because you drank a whole wine bottle, the alcohol managed to slow it down somehow just long enough for you to get treatment. A miracle, indeed.

For once, the room is no longer filled with tension with all five of the men together, but a genuine sense of relief. You give the two of your knights soft smiles and a sincere thank you which makes their faces flush like a ripe strawberry. Your escorts don’t protest, mirroring the same gratefulness in their faces.

Something changes after that night.

Of course, you’re extremely glad that Riddle is no longer blowing his top off after Ace goads him about being a stick in the mud, but since when did Ace get into pet names with Riddle? Rosebud? The nickname makes you gag internally at how corny it is. Not to mention that Riddle…doesn’t mind being called that?! You watch in disbelief as he preens at the compliment from your knight, trying not to give away your incredulousness.

Okay…whatever, at least they’re getting along?

Deuce shows up with your slice of cake with a beaming glow that has you taken aback as you accept the offering. Ace mutters about how Trey must’ve spoiled him again behind you and it takes everything inside you to not spit out your cake mid-bite. Again? Trey was kind, you’ll give him that, and he did tend to baby Riddle and you but—

On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t out of left field.

Cater titters knowingly when you slump in bonelessly into the lounge next to him trying on new earrings and bangles.

“And what ails my dearly beloved king?” You choke on your spit before glaring at him. He giggles, dangly silver drops chiming in tune with the laughter.

“Not you too…” It felt like the whole day you felt like you were background to some of the most insufferable flirting, and with your escorts and knights, no less. You raise an eyebrow at the shiny, glittering jewelry scattered on the vanity in front of the man. All imperial escorts did have an allowance, but you don’t remember Cater buying anything like this nor gifting him such things. When you inquire about it, Cater gives you a smirk and a wink.

”Rido and the younger ones have been quite sweet lately.” The sentence makes you nearly fall off the lounge. He chortles and blows you a mock kiss with no shame as you sear him with another heated glare.

The way they started interacting starts making you feel self-conscious and…embarrassingly enough, left out. Which is such a foolish thought. Of course, who would in their right mind love the person who tied their lives to them, romantically and sexually? And even though they were in such a situation, the fact they all loved each other was a blessing, wasn’t it? How many history lessons did you have where the monarch’s harem wasn’t full of in-fighting? That meant more prosperity and stability political wise, and there wouldn’t be any trouble between you…

Yet, your heart clenches at the thought of Trey’s smile directed at Cater, of Riddle gently caressing Deuce’s head, and Ace slinging an arm around Deuce…none of that affection could ever be for you.

And it’s best that way. Your father’s voice echoes distantly in your mind. You watched him solemnly on his deathbed as he implored you to not make the same mistakes he did, before his breathing stilled, and his hand lay limp in yours.

Yes, perhaps it was better this way.

Still, your thoughts are still wandering that you barely jolt back to present to a cabinet meeting looking expectantly at you.

“Pardon, could you repeat that?”

Riddle watches in worry as a dark shadow crosses your face as the demand for your harem to grow is conveyed. He coughs, causing the members to turn to him instead.

”If that’s the case,” he states with no hesitation, “then I might have some candidates in mind.”

You turn to him with the same expression as the other cabinet members. It drops to shock at Riddle’s suggestion.

As much as you wanted to oppose it, there wasn’t really a good reason to. You sat with your arms crossed as Riddle explained the proposal to your very two personal knights. Ace and Deuce exchange looks, and something between them is communicated before they turn to you and accept, despite your hope they wouldn’t.

And so, your harem became five.

You put your foot down after that. It was already enough to have your heart cracked into pieces with the knowledge you could never have their love. You don’t think it could handle another.

So you tuck your heart away as you smile with them over dinner, bantering over whether flamingos can play croquet or dancing with them at various balls, heart racing as the chandelier lit their face with a warmth you’ve never seen before. If it means you won’t get hurt or distracted, then that’s all you could ask for.

One fateful day, a letter out of numerous piles is hand delivered by Cater and changes your entire world.

It’s sealed with the crest of the fairest queen in the seven realms, meaning only one person could have sent this—Vil Schoenheit. Inside the elegant letter details a marriage proposal that listed all the benefits of taking him as a spouse. With all the pros listed out so cleanly, it was clear that the queen already knew that you couldn’t reject it so quickly.

But you must dissolve your harem. I do not take kindly to those who are not loyal to me and me only.

Something in your heart cracks at reading the condition. You should feel elated, somewhat, that you no longer had to drag around escorts for formality. And for the others, it meant being freed from a duty they were all forced into. But tears threaten to bubble over your eyelashes, and when Riddle asks you if you’re alright, one manages to overflow and trail down your cheek like a traitorous banner.

You don’t want to let them go.

Trey asks for the nth time if you’re sure you don’t want him to be with you or if you want some tea before you shoo him away. Ace and Deuce were meant to guard your chambers, but you wave them off too, saying you’ll find stand-ins for their places. Riddle and Cater were harder to shake off, but even they, too, were finally shut out when you closed your bedroom doors in their worried faces.

In the end, like a coward, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them what that letter was, despite them asking nonstop about it. You’re not sure what to tell them either—that they were being discarded of their positions, no longer needed, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness—oh, who would even believe you?

When Vil graces your halls, the looks your escorts give you is enough to fill you with burning hot shame.

Cater doesn’t have his usual mischievous smile when he greets the queen, his emerald eyes sharpening to pin pricks whenever Vil speaks. You should’ve scolded him, reigned him back, but the guilt eating away at you made you hesitate. It didn’t help that Riddle, for all his perfect etiquette, suddenly seemed to forget what formalities and niceties were around the queen. The regal queen gives you a strange look as Trey sets down a plate of pastries a little too hard in front of him. Your gaze darts away as you sip the tea in front of you nervously, flanked by Ace and Deuce, their scowling faces too apparent.

They’re not dumb. Royals don’t visit other realms willy-nilly often. And it’s clear what Vil is here for.

The next day leaves you lethargic and sluggish, but you try to pull through, if only for appearances. While you stroll through the gardens with Vil, you try to avoid the burning stares of your guards behind you, no doubt dissecting each and every bit of your conversation with the queen. They pull you away as soon as the clock hits the afternoon hour, stating you had duties to attend to and so on and so forth. You excuse yourself and hope you don’t look like a mess to Vil, whose appearance is still immaculate despite the heavy winds and hot sun.

You try to focus on the stack of papers in front of you, despite the edges of your vision blurring and your head spinning. Taking the last sip of what remained of your tea, you squint uselessly at the words as Riddle murmurs something to your right about dinner and farewell banquets. The last thing you remember is the smell of chamomile and poppy flowers and the last document regarding international treaties.

By the time you wake up from your ill-timed nap, it was midnight and it had been decided that you were too unwell to properly receive the fairest queen, and thus Vil would be sent back, to come back another time. Cater explains with a tight smile while Riddle nods along. Behind them, Trey pours another cup of warm milk and offers it to you with a sympathetic smile. You take it, despite the guilt threatening to swallow you alive.

The days following are a haze of routines that you thought you once knew but couldn’t process. Nothing had changed, right? It seemed like you couldn’t recall what Trey made for you for yesterday’s tea, nor whenever Cater asked you for an opinion on his outfit. Before, you remembered the guards’ shifts to the letter, and yet, you completely forgot when Ace took over to guard you. Riddle smiles at you like usual, helping you with paperwork as usual, and yet…why couldn’t you remember what you had signed yourself?

Some nights you wake up to Trey or Cater, running their hands over you, despite the fact that they weren’t there before when you went to bed. Sometimes, it would be Ace and Deuce, bickering in hushed whispers before they shut up seeing you awake. And every time morning came and soreness set in your body, Riddle would greet your groggy face warmly, wiping away sweat and a strange stickiness that clung to your skin.

The thought of marriage is erased from your mind, and slowly, but surely, you can’t remember why you thought of breaking apart the men who treated you so fondly.

Perhaps you should have heeded the tales of those who ended up being puppet kings.

#yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere heartslabyul #yandere reader insert #a wip i had in storage forever and didn't think i would ever get to finishing but here we are babeyyyyy #i am projecting har dbu talso mmmmmmmmmmmmheartslabyul rights

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rynwritesreid · 5 months

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She’s electric| Spencer Reid

A/N: I may have gotten carried away with this one, I’m sorry :)

Summary: After trying to make Spencer jealous, he decides to teach you a lesson.

Content: Smut/18+/MDNI. Fem!reader. Sub!reader. Dom!spencer. Rough sex. Choking. Orgasm control/denial. Spanking. Mean Spencer. Use of pet names. Possessiveness. Creampie/PinV. Handjob(F!recieving)

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

It wasn’t really a secret that Spencer Reid liked to be dominant, and that he liked to be rough. However, you had truly underestimated him, and because of this, you were about to learn a valuable lesson.

“Spencer, baby, are you okay?” you asked with a faux innocence, you knew he wasn’t okay, he hated seeing other people flirt with you and he hated that you gave them the time of day. Spencer though, he didn’t speak a word and just firmly grabbed your thigh, which is his way of asking you to shut up.

“Spencer, please? What’s wrong?” Spencer's gaze was intense as he pinned you with a steely look, his grip on your thigh tightening almost warningly.

“Okay, if you’re not going to speak, I’ll just explain myself.” You paused for a brief second, giving the chance to speak up, “you’re extremely hot when you are jealous, like extremely.”

Spencer's expression shifted from one of intense focus to a hint of amusement, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

You couldn't help but laugh, because sure Spencer was rough, but rough enough to ruin you was laughable.

Once both you and Spencer had gone back to his apartment, and you had shrugged off what he had previously said and settled onto his couch, flipping through the TV channels as if nothing had happened. Spencer, however, had other plans in mind. Without a word, he approached you and swiftly pulled you up from your seat, his grip strong but gentle.

“Do you know what happens when you misbehave?” Spencer whispered, his voice low and dangerous.

Before you could even form a coherent response, Spencer's lips crashed down on yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body with purpose.

The intensity of the kiss left you dazed, as Spencer's dominant nature took control. His hands firmly gripped your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

Breaking the kiss, Spencer's eyes were filled with an unyielding determination that you had never seen before. "You crossed a line, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

With a smirk, Spencer reached behind you, grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and hit the power button on the TV. The screen went dark, and the room was plunged into silence, save for the sound of your quickening breath.

Spencer led you to the bedroom, his steps firm and purposeful. He pushed you onto the bed, and your eyes widened in surprise as you realized that he was going to make good on his promise.

Without a word, he began to undress you, his fingers deft and skilled. You tried to protest, but his silence was deafening, and you knew better than to fight him.

Once you were naked, he stepped back, taking in the sight of you lying on the bed, vulnerable and exposed. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Your stomach fluttered with a mix of fear and excitement as you hesitantly complied with his command, spreading your legs wider. Spencer's gaze was intense as he studied you, and you could almost feel the heat of his desire emanating from him.

Spencer stalked back towards the bed, his eyes dark with lust and dominance. You could see the cords in his neck stand out as he clenched his jaw, and you knew that he was trying to control himself.

“Touch yourself for me.” His voice was low and gravelly.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then you felt his hand on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Do it," he commanded, his voice low and hoarse.

Reluctantly, you reached down and touched yourself, feeling the wetness between your legs. Spencer watched you closely, his breath coming in short gasps.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "You're so wet for me."

You continued to touch yourself, your fingers exploring your own body as his eyes never left you.

"Fuck, that's hot," Spencer groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Spencer, please, please touch me.” You gasped.

You felt his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch firm but gentle. He dragged his thumb across your lower lip.

“You want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yes, please,” you whispered, your voice barely a whisper.

“Well, if I was to give into your commands, this wouldn’t be much of a punishment, would it?” his voice was somehow thick “and plus, I’m enjoying the show.”

You felt a twinge of frustration mixed with anticipation, you knew that Spencer wanted to push you to your limits, but you also knew that he couldn't resist you when you needed him the most.

"Spencer, please, I need you to touch me," you pleaded, your voice growing more insistent.

Spencer smirked, his eyes never leaving your face. “If you insist, but this isn’t going to turn out how you want.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, a fleeting taste of what was to come. His fingers trailed down your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He stopped at your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, his eyes never leaving yours.

You looked up at him, your breathing shallow, your heart pounding. "I need you, Spencer."

He chuckled darkly. "You'll get more than you bargained for, darling."

His fingers moved lower, dipping into the wetness between your legs. You gasped involuntarily, your eyes wide with shock and desire. He stroked you gently, moving in slow circles, building the tension between you.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you.” Spencer's fingers delved deeper, hitting a spot inside you that sent shivers throughout your body. You moaned softly, your body arching slightly against his touch.

"You're so tight, so wet, so perfect," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You let out a quiet moan, your body trembling with desire. "Spencer, please, don't tease me."

He smirked, his eyes never leaving your face. "I'm not teasing you; I'm making sure you remember why you shouldn't push me."

Without warning, he thrust two fingers deep inside you, his fingers curling to hit that spot that made you see stars. You cried out, your body trembling uncontrollably.

You moaned loudly, the sensations overwhelming you. He increased his pace, fucking you with his fingers, his thumb still rubbing your clit in circles.

"Spencer, I'm going to cum" you panted, your body on the edge.

“Have I given you permission to cum?” Spencer demanded, his voice low and authoritative.

You gasped, your body shaking with desire. "No, sir."

"You're close, aren't you?" he asked, his fingers never slowing down.

You nodded, your breathing quickening. "Yes, Spencer, I need. . . I need to cum!"

His hand flew to your throat, his grip firm but gentle. "You're not allowed to cum until I say so."

Your eyes widened, but you nodded obediently. "Yes, sir."

With that, he slowed his pace, his fingers moving in and out of you in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You moaned softly, your body still trembling with desire.

“I’m going to make you beg for it, to cum, he whispered, his voice filled with promise and threat. “But remember, you’re not allowed until I give you, my permission.”

You whimpered, your body begging for release, but you knew better than to disobey him. Your mind raced with the mix of fear and desire, fuelling the intensity of your arousal.

Spencer continued to tease you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a slow, torturous rhythm. Your breath hitched, your body straining against his touch. You felt like you were on the edge of a precipice, and any moment you might fall over.

"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "Let me cum."

His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the desire burning in his gaze. "Not yet," he said, his voice firm.

“Please, Spencer, I need it so badly,” you pleaded, your voice shaking with need.

His eyes met yours, and he smirked, his eyes filled with lust. “You know the rules, darling. You can’t cum unless I say so.”

You moaned, your body trembling with need. “Please, Spencer, please, just let me cum.”

He slid his fingers out of you, leaving you shivering. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He laid you down on the bed, your legs still spread wide, your body still wet and aching. Your heart raced with anticipation, your breaths shallow as he stood above you, his eyes burning with desire.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson?” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.

"Yes, please, just fuck me already," you whimpered, your body begging for relief.

Spencer chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs you by the throat, his fingers tightening around your neck, and you gasp for air, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Don't ever disobey me again," he growls, his eyes fierce.

You nod obediently, your eyes wide with fear and desire.

"You're mine, and I'll punish you any way I see fit," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I'm gonna make you remember this, darling," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "You crossed the line, and now you'll pay the price.

You whimpered, your body trembling with fear and arousal. "I'm sorry, Spencer," you breathed, promising never to disobey him again.

He released your throat, his fingers stroking your cheek gently, his eyes filled with desire and a hint of tenderness. "Good girl," he said, his voice still rough with emotion.

Without warning, he plunged inside of you, his cock hitting that spot that made you see stars. Your body arched beneath him, your moans mingling with his as he drove into you relentlessly. Your breaths came in short gasps, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled; his voice thick with lust. "To be punished by me?"

"Yes, Spencer, please don't stop," you moaned, your body shaking with need.

He slammed into you harder, his hips swinging rhythmically. "You're mine," he growled, his voice low and dark. "And you're going to take every Last. Inch. Of. My. Dick."

You moaned loudly, your body trembling uncontrollably. He continued his relentless assault, each thrust hitting your G-spot with perfect precision, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You felt like you were going to explode, so you pleaded with him again.

"Please, Spencer, let me cum," you begged, your voice quivering with desperation.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving yours, "You're going to learn not to push me, darling. And when you're ready, you'll ask me for permission."

You nodded, your body aching for release, but you knew better than to disobey him. Your mind raced with the mix of fear and desire, fuelling the intensity of your arousal.

"But I want to cum, Spencer," you whispered, your voice shaking with need.

He pulled out of you abruptly, leaving you gasping for breath and shivering with need, leaving a void that only he could fill. Your eyes burned with desire, watching as he stood before you.

"Then you'll have to learn to be patient," he said, his voice low and seductive. "I'll teach you how to be a good girl, and only then will I allow you to cum."

You moaned softly, your body aching for his touch. "Please, Spencer, I need you."

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "You need to learn your place, and right now, you're not there yet."

He reached down, grabbing your throat, his fingers tightening around your neck. You gasped for air, your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes wide with fear and desire.

"Do you understand?" he growled; his eyes fierce.

You nodded obediently, your eyes pleading with him to release your neck and continue.

"Good," he muttered, releasing your throat and stroking your cheek gently. "Now, let's see if you can be a good girl."

He moved his fingers to your clit, circling it slowly, teasing it with each touch. Your breath hitched, your body arching beneath his touch. You moaned softly, your arousal growing with each passing second, your body trembling uncontrollably.

"Please, Spencer, please, touch me," you begged, your voice shaking with need.

"Soon, darling," he whispered, his voice filled with promise.

He continued teasing you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a slow, torturous rhythm, his fingers gently stroking your clit, causing waves of pleasure to course through your body.

You cried out, your body straining against his touch. You felt like you were going to explode, so you pleaded with him again.

"Please, Spencer, let me cum," you begged, your voice shaking with need.

“Go ahead princess, cum.” His voice was like a switch in your mind, a sudden surge of power that made every muscle in your body clench. Your eyes widened as you felt your orgasm building, a fierce heat spreading through your body, making your skin tingle and your breath catch in your throat.

"Yes, cum for me," he growled, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

You let out a loud moan as your body convulsed, your muscles clenching around his fingers, your heart pounding in your chest as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Your body shook uncontrollably as the intense pleasure washed over you, your breaths shallow and ragged. You kept your eyes locked onto his, your heart pounding against your chest, your body still trembling with need.

"Good girl," he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're learning your place."

“Now, do you think you can get on all fours for me?” Spencer whispered; his eyes filled with lust.

You nod quickly, your body still shaking with pleasure, eager to continue. He guides you onto all fours, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing with anticipation. Your breaths are shallow, your skin tingling with desire.

"Look at you," he growls, stroking your back gently. "You're so wet and ready for me."

He spanks your ass hard, making you yelp and jump. "Remember, you're mine," he says, his voice low and possessive.

He thrusts into you from behind, your moans mingling with his as he drives into you relentlessly. Your breaths come in short gasps, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

You groan in pleasure as he continues to pound into you from behind, your body responding to his every move. Your breasts bounce with each thrust, your nipples hard and sensitive to the slightest touch.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Take it all, take my cock."

His fingers dig into your hips, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more intense. You can feel his teeth sink into your shoulder, leaving a mark that will last for days.

"You're mine," he growls again, his voice hoarse with desire. "And I'm gonna make you remember that every time I fuck you."

You can't help but moan in agreement, your body arching back against him, eager to take everything he has to give. His thrusts become faster and harder, his breath hot against your ear.

"Please, Spencer," you whimper, your body aching for release. "I need you to cum inside me."

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your skin. "You're a quick learner, aren't you, darling?"

"Please," you beg, your body trembling with desire. "Fill me up, make me yours."

With one final thrust, he thrusts deep inside of you, filling you completely. You feel him twitching inside of you, his release mingling with yours. Your body trembles uncontrollably, your breaths ragged and shallow.

"There you go, baby," he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're mine, now and forever."

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #dom spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic

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jungle-angel · 1 month

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Lessons In Cattle Care (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob learns a very valuable and very hilarious lesson from his five year old son

Warnings: Parenthood, Bob's kid having absolutely no filter etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia

"C'mon Daddy we're gonna be late!" Auggie chirped, hauling the metal milking bucket as Bob, Jake, you and Natasha all trailed behind him.

"Bud we don't need to hurry," Bob told him. "I'm pretty sure Peach can wait another minute or two."

"Bob he's five, he has absolutely no patience whatsoever," you chuckled.

You, your husband and your two best friends followed Auggie into the barn where he immediately set the bucket down and grabbed the stool for his father. "Ok Daddy you sit down and I'll tell you how to do it," Auggie told him.

"Alright little man you're the teacher," Bob laughed.

"Ok now whatcha gotta do is you gotta grab Peach's titties and squeeze it like a sponge in the sink," Auggie instructed.

The squawks and laughs that came out of everyone's mouths, including your own, were completely unexpected. "I swear to God I didn't teach him that," Jake insisted when Natasha gave him the look.

"Daddy you look like you're gonna get sick from laughing," Auggie commented.

Bob didn't pay any mind or heed to his little comedian and instead drew him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek. He let Auggie show him the rest of the ropes despite his son's unfiltered instructions. There was no doubt in your minds, that if Auggie ever became a teacher, his students would love and remember him for the rest of their days.

But that was a story for a different day.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace

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thedragonkween · 4 months

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King Baldwin IV - Courting Headcanons 🤍

a/n: Here we are again! These are a couple headcanons of mine about a potential courtship with our beloved king. The pining is very real! As always, feel free to hit my inbox for any and all rambling. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reblogging!

wc: 1.3k

tags: king baldwin iv (kingdom of heaven version) x female!reader; fluff

Ah, congratulations! You have managed to capture the heart and attention of the great Baldwin IV of Jerusalem. Baldwin never much contemplated the thought of love, having to face war, his disease and the duty to defend his kingdom from great enemies from a very young age. The weight of the crown and of his responsibilities sits heavy on his head. Which is why you are a breath of fresh air in his chaotic life. No matter how he notices you - maybe you spoke up during a conflicting situation, offering valuable insight, or maybe the King randomly met you while you strolled in his gardens, or maybe he was impressed by your spirit and fighting abilities - having Baldwin’s attention is an honor. You should be proud!

After noticing you, the King would invite you to spend time with him to get to know you better, although without the intention of courting you, at first. As like-minded individuals who share the same principles, a genuine friendship would quickly bloom between you. Even if your interests wouldn’t align at first, you would soon find yourselves eager to share your knowledge. For instance, Baldwin would listen to you talk about the plot of the book you’re reading and the lesson you are learning from it without ever taking those blue eyes off of you. He would not only listen, but remember your conversations, as they offer him invaluable insight on the person that you are.

Even Baldwin doesn’t notice at first how much your presence is soothing to him. He keeps inviting you to mass on Sundays (giving you the honor of sitting next to him), to a walk in his gardens where he would ask you about your day, to chess games where you would have battles of wits. The hours would pass dreadfully quickly during these meetings.

Baldwin would have a random epiphany about how deeply he aches for you, and it would steal his breath. During a strategy or diplomatic meeting with his advisors, he would catch himself thinking about you. Maybe someone mentioned your homeland and suddenly his thoughts are spiraling about how your laugh warmed his heart that day, or how lovely you looked with your hair done just like that, or how he wished he could be with you. That is when it would dawn on him that you have taken much more space in his heart than he anticipated. Baldwin never gets distracted during state affairs meetings. And you managed to distract him.

This is when the doubts would creep in. He knows he can’t have an heir born of his own flesh and blood (his heart would clench when he sees you play with Sibylla’s son), thus making marriage an unnecessary option. And yet he desires it with you. It would not be a political marriage, but a union of two souls meant to be together. But would you accept to tie yourself to him in such a way, knowing that the Angel of death would come to take him from you so soon? That he would condemn you to an eternity of grieving and widowhood?

Yet, the more time he spends with you, the more fiercely you latch onto his heart. You are just so dear to him, first of all because he can feel that your interest in him is genuine, not tainted by the thirst for power. Your kindness and sensitivity have stolen his heart even before your looks did. I like to imagine that he would allow himself to be selfish and before he knows it, his mind is set, and he will start courting you.

“Your Grace!” You quickly stand up from the bench, your book falling from your lap to lay forgotten near the rose bushes. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve been visited by an Angel - all you see is the white and gold of his robe swirling with the wind, sunlight glinting off of the familiar silver mask. You bow as King Baldwin approaches you. What has him out in such a rush, as if a horde of Saracens were at his door? The King says your name with a trembling breath, his shoulders heaving from exertion. You look even more ethereal than ever - sunlight framing you like a halo and the rose bushes arching above you, bathing you in a rainbow of red, pink, orange and white blossoms. He closes the distance between you, coming as close as he dares without breaching the rules of propriety. Something latches fiercely onto his heart when he sees the way you’re looking at him, bright eyes shining with awe and hope, lips slightly parted. Emboldened by your reaction, the King stretches his arm out behind you, gloved hand closing around the stem of a white rose. He pulls at the flower, and you wonder if he can feel the prick of the thorns. The thought is quickly forgotten when he hands the rose to you. This is so unlike him, but at this moment Baldwin feels more like a boy in love, not a King courting his beloved. He repeats your name, relishing the way your face lights up when he pronounces each syllable. “Please, allow me the honor of courting you.”

He would literally be the picture of honor and romance when courting. It’s just what you deserve! Speaking of gifts, he won’t spend a fortune on generic luxury items such as large gems or fine clothes; he’d pick out quality pieces that would be unique and surprisingly perfectly suited to your aesthetic, showing you how thoughtful he really is. Elegant quills, delicate hair pins, rare books, extravagantly scented candles or exotic fragrances would be more his style. He likes to hand the gifts to you when you are out together because he loves seeing your pretty face light up, but I also like to imagine him letting you find the presents in your chambers, with a sweet note attached, for you to still think of him when your day is coming to a close (not that you wouldn’t otherwise). Later on in the courting stage, he’d even have a chess board made just for you where the queen and king match your likeness, for you to enjoy matches together! (That chess board is now in a museum).

Another way of spending quality time would be horse riding. He would be very gallant even if you were a proficient rider, waving away the guards to offer you his hand himself to help you get on and off the horse and making sure that you are correctly mounted first. He’d make your heart race while holding his hand, which is surprisingly strong and firm under his soft glove. When asked about your sudden flush, you would blame it on the hot Jerusalem winds and sun.

His sister would be one of the first people to notice that you found the King’s favor. She is very observant, yet it does not take an expert to see that you and Baldwin have grown quite close. All in all, Sibylla would approve of you and your union with Baldwin, especially after seeing how truly devoted you are to spending time together for the pleasure of each other’s company, without seeking political advantage. She would invite you to spend time together, such as chatting while having your henna painted, because she wants to get to know the person who clearly stole her brother’s heart.

All in all, I think a courtship with Baldwin would be sweet, hopeful and discreet at first. Soon enough, the court would see that Baldwin is quite taken with you. The most ambitious courtesans would use this knowledge in hopes of exploiting your connection with the King to their advantage. Luckily, I also think Baldwin would be quite protective, and as soon as he senses that you’re attracting unwanted attention, he would get Tiberias, Balian or a trusted advisor to help him keep an eye on you. However, on a positive note, you would instantly gain the respect of the most loyal members of the court. After all, if a King as wise as Baldwin has chosen you, that speaks volumes about your character. 🙂

dividers by: @/firefly-graphics

#king baldwin iv x reader #baldwin iv x reader #baldwin x reader #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #koh #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #king baldwin iv #king baldwin #mywriting

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kasagia · 2 years

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hi, can you do a one-shot for klaus, where he has a crush on y/n, and they have a one-night stand, and Klaus is sad because he thinks he won't see her again, but then he gets the news that y/n n is pregnant with his daughter (reader gets pregnant, no hayley, y/n is Hope's biological mother) and klaus takes the news well, because it's someone he loves and takes the pregnancy as an opportunity to make t /n love him.

Making her love me

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x fem! reader Word count: 7,4k (way too long, sorry not sorry) Warning(s): smut mention, panic attack (a little), swearing, and typical TVD violence. Nonsense from me: I'm so excited to post it since it's my first request/ask or whatever I should call it. I hope it's basically what you asked for, Gallus Anonymous! <3

Klaus Mikaelson loved Y/N Y/S.

The original hybrid was hopelessly in love with her since the first time he met her on his family's ball. He will always remember that day.

She looked like an angel. Well, maybe more like a devil (judging by the fact that part of her hair was arranged in two small buns imitating horns), but still, she was the most beautiful girl at the party (and maybe in the whole world).

When he saw her, dancing in her black-golden dress with one of Salvatore's brothers, he knew that this girl would be his at the end of the day. Even if he has to fight with these bloody, young vampires.

Unfortunately, Y/N didn't have the same feeling when she first saw him. As a proud member of a Mystic Falls group (who returned to the town after a school exchange), she was obligated to hate the Mikaelsons.

But she must admit to herself that the man with the British accent was incredibly hot.

Damon, noticing Klaus's sudden interest in his friend, decided to use this to his advantage and pushed Y/N into the arms of their nemesis. Klaus was delighted. Y/N disgusted.

The original hybrid stuck to her for the rest of the evening, forgetting all about Caroline. Y/N has since become Klaus Mikaelson's official distraction. And she wasn't happy about it at all.

Her friends would use the Siphon Witch whenever they needed to keep Klaus occupied or to ease his bloodlust after doing something stupid (like stealing white oak stakes right under his nose and 12 obedient hybrids. Great plan, Damon!).

Y/N would have to wisely bump into Mikaelson and spend some time with him until the Mystic Falls heroes fix the shit they made. At least the girl was much less stressed compared to her friends, and sometimes she really enjoyed the company of the hybrid.

Once, a man took her to a cafe-studio where little-known Mystic Falls artists would gather. She returned to the Salvator Brothers' estate in navy blue paint, with little constellations painted by Klaus on her face, arms, and neck. Damon barely refrained from making a sarcastic remark.

Fortunately, Stefan saved him from her very likely wrath, because every time someone makes jokes about Y/N's relationship with Klaus, she gets mad and loses control over her magic power. Once, Bonnie had to repair Stefan's motorcycle. The vampire learned his lesson then and tried not to annoy her again. Sometimes, though, he seriously considered letting his older brother cross the line. He wondered if Damon would cry over a damaged car.

With time passing, Klaus had only a stronger crush on her. Everyone knows that. Expect Y/N herself.

At best, she thought the hybrid regarded her as some sort of friend or a distraction between his villainous grand schemes. There could be no feelings between them. Not when she already had a very loving boyfriend whom the original hybrid found out about at a 1920s school party.

She bewitched him completely then. And he was ready to tell her the truth about his real feelings for her and try to make her his, but then he saw this other guy holding her like he wanted to hold her the first time he met her. For Klaus, this man didn't deserve her attention; that human didn't realize how valuable a treasure he was holding in his hands right now. Klaus wanted to go away and let Y/N enjoy dancing with this lesser man. He really does. But when she turned and looked at him with these beautiful, delightful eyes, he couldn't just disappear without exchanging one last word with her.

After all, Klaus was a selfish man.

"You don't mind if I cut into you." Klaus' voice came from behind me, making me shiver.

"Yes. Actually, we do." My boyfriend snarled, recognizing the guy who was "hanging dangerously around me." He had no idea about the supernatural shite we were in and I had no idea how to tell him all of this (or just didn't want to).

Klaus just smiled unfazed, catching his gaze.

"Why don't you go somewhere far away and come back in 20 minutes? You can be useful and bring the beautiful lady something to drink." my boyfriend dutifully obeyed, leaving me with a smug hybrid. "Shall we, love?" he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, swaying to some slow, romantic song without waiting for my response.

"Why do you always have to prove you're the alpha male?"

"I don't have to prove anything, love, I'm the alpha male." he replied, offended. I rolled my eyes, sighing.

"You would've loved the 1920s, Y/N. Girls were reckless, sexy, and fun. They literally used to dance until they dropped." he turned me around, smiling slyly.

"Since they were so reckless and drunk, I suppose it was easier for you to find a lover then."

"You should be nicer to me. I'm leaving town tomorrow." I shifted my gaze to him, shocked by the information he had thrown at me. "I'd invite you to come with me, but we both know that you're not ready to accept my offer. Perhaps one day you'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."

"How many girls fell for it? A magical tour of the world with an all-powerful original who plays with them like toys?"

"You mark my words. Small-town boy, small-town life won't be enough for you." he said, completely ignoring my previous words.

"And how do you know what's enough for me?"

"Because I know you, Y/N. Do you imagine marrying that stupid man with whom you were dancing later? Giving him children, living too short to make your real dreams come true?" I wanted to look away from him, but he gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to confront him and all my fears at the same time. "You want love, trust, passion, excitement, and even a little power, and unlike this fool, I can give you all of this and more. Just say a word."

"But for what price?" I asked, taking a big breath.

I realized we were much closer than was appropriate for a dance, but neither of us cared. His gaze was moving from my eyes to my mouth. I licked my chapped lips unconsciously, stuck in some incomprehensible anticipation. Only for what?

"Kaus. Y/N. I finally found you two. We have a problem. Klaus' mother is back." Stefan interrupted the moment between us.

I swear I could hear a little swear from the hybrid before he took my hand and led me towards Stefan, who was hurrying away.

After that, T/N didn't get a chance to meet Klaus again. Since they were on opposite camps in finding the cure, Y/N tried to avoid the hybrid at all costs. He just wanted to use her. Seduce her with his sweet words to make her do everything he wanted. She had no other explanation.

Klaus, on the other hand, tried to get her out of his head in every way he knew how. He couldn't keep up with adding new canvases for the portraits of his one-sided crush. His siblings were starting to worry about him.

Especially after he found out her boyfriend was going to propose to her. (Damon has never been prouder of being a gossip boy.) This overflowed the hybrid's cup of bitterness.

Kol and Elijah walked around their brother like they were on eggshells. Rebekah, on the other hand, has no such pity. It was her occasion to tease Klaus, like he was doing whenever she fell in love (at least Rebekah didn't want to kill Y/N like SOMEONE).

But nevertheless, she was the one to tell Klaus that Y/N rejected her boyfriend's proposal. The original never loved his sister more. He was happy that Y/N was now single, and he even thought that in the near future he may have a little chance with her since there were no other competitors for her heart.

But even in his wildest dreams, Klaus would not have dared to think that Y/N would knock on his door that same day and greedily bite into his lips as soon as he opened it. And not that she'd start ripping his clothes off and pushing him into his bedroom (which surprised him, given that she knew how to get there without his directions).

He never would have thought that one night would change his life forever.

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N's POV

I sighed, rolling over to the other side of the bed as the first rays of sunlight somehow hit my eye. I always kept the windows closed. How come I didn't do it this time? Reluctantly, I opened one eyes to look at my treacherous bedroom window, only to found out that I wasn't in my room.

Also, not in my bed.

And not in any clothes.

AND DEFINITELY NOT ALONE.

As soon as I looked at the calm, sleeping, and clearly satisfied (judging by his disheveled hair) Klaus, memories of last night started flooding back to me.

Panicked, I looked around the room for my clothes, trying to ignore the sight of overturned furniture, a broken mirror, and even a dent in the wall. Unsuccessfully. My face has never been so close to the color of my blood.

Once I'd traced my things, I carefully got out of bed and dressed as quietly as I could, closing the vampire's bedroom door behind me. Now all I had to do was get out of the house full of originals unnoticed. Simple, right?

"Y/N, darling! What a pleasure to see you this morning. How do you feel?" Klaus' little brother jumped out of nowhere and threw one arm around my shoulders, making me come inside the house again.

"Hello Kol. Bye Kol." I tried to dodge him, but he sped up to stand in front of me.

"Wait a minute half-witch. You're going to leave my brother like this? After your… noisy night? He'll be devastated. Was he not up to the task? I could teach him a bit if that's a problem for you. You have my word that within a week you won't be able to stop…"

"Kol! For the bloody hell, stop this awkward conversation. I'm sorry for him, usually we keep him in a coffin." Rebekah cut him off and stood next to him, glaring at him furiously.

"Um… no problem, I guess. If you don't mind, I'm gonna go now."

With even redder cheeks, I ran out of the mansion and, at the speed of light, got into my car, driving far away from this town. I needed rest, and I knew only one person who would be willing to take me under their roof without any questions.

"Hi Katherine. Where are you right now?"

~•♤♤♤•~

"Are you sure it's just food poisoning? Won't you die here suddenly? Do you want my blood?" Katherine flooded me with questions as I returned to our table.

It's been 2 months since my "great escape," as Damon liked to call it, from Mystic Falls. At that time, I was traveling with Katherine around the United States, doing what I wanted to do most: seeing the world (starting with small things like staying in all states). After the brunette gave the cure to Elijah (while experiencing her epic love story with him, which ended with her heartbreak over Elena's meddling and Elijah's doubts), she decided to accompany me on my quest.

I had to arrange everything in my head. What I wanted out of life, who I wanted to be, and so on.

That was the main purpose of this trip.

In fact, I helped Katherine heal her broken heart and tried to avoid the topic of Klaus Mikaelson like the plague. With small or big successes depending on the day.

Sometimes Damon, Stefan, or Bonnie would mention how snappy he'd become after my sudden departure or that he was asking them about my whereabouts. The worst was his drunken voicemails he left. They ended after the first month, but they were the biggest test of my perseverance. I had to piece my twisted life together before adding my love problems with the world's (nearly) oldest living vampire to the puzzle.

At least that was the plan until those New Orleans bitches got me.

As soon as we left the bar, some girls accosted us and knocked us out with magic. I woke up in some cold, dank, musty crypt with Katherine by my side. At least I wasn't alone. We both had a better chance of defeating those witches. The new thing in those two months was my sudden ability to do magic without any source of energy. It looked like my abilities were starting to screw up too.

"Are you Y/N Y/S?" one of the witches approached us, staring at me warily.

"One and only. May I know who I am having the pleasure of?"

"Sophie Deveraux."

"Sophie. Some time ago, I knew a girl with this name. She got under my skin too. She is dead now. You can guess what happened to her."

"Yeah. It's definitely her. I couldn't imagine someone more of this psycho's type." she told her friends. The women grabbed us both and led us out of the makeshift cell to drag us to the main hall of the crypt.

"Allright. Can one of us tell why you are holding us here?"

"We need you, sugar, but your friend is just an accessory, so if you want both of you to get out of this somehow, you'll keep quiet." seeing that I had no intention of objecting, the unknown woman smiled victoriously. "Good girl."

I gave her a sweet smile before breaking her neck with a flick of my wrist. There was a sudden commotion around us. Katherine suffered a brain aneurysm after one of the witches raised her hand on her. The brunette screamed once before someone else appeared in the crypt, tearing out the heart of the witch who was attacking her.

Elijah.

Elijah came to save the day.

"I thought you wanted to talk, and both Katherine and Y/N were supposed to be unharmed." he said in his legal tone, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped between me and Kath. The woman was as pleased with the presence of the original as I was.

"She started." Sophie pointed at me. Elijah turned to look at me. I shrugged.

"You make me." I answered her with a malicious smile.

"Y/N." the man said warningly. This noble bastard won't tell me what to do.

"Elijah. Nice to see you. Maybe you can tell us why we've been locked in some fucking tomb? Is this some kind of revenge of yours, or did we get caught in the crossfire of Mikaelson's skirmishes purely by chance?"

"I would like to know that too. You wanted to be heard. Speak, before I change my mind." he turned to the witches without changing his defensive position.

I gave Katherine a brief, knowing glance. The woman reluctantly nodded at me. Great. We have personal cannon fodder if things get hotter.

"Marcel Gerard, ruler of the city, forbade the witches of my coven to use any magic. We want your help. Especially your brother's."

"Niklaus? You have to make him go to town first. And as far as I know, she's not in the mood for any outings right now."

"Even if he gets a message from her?"

"Your mother didn't teach you not to point at people?"I growled at her as she did it again. "Besides, I didn't text… You have my phone, don't you?" I asked, realizing it was their only way of contacting the hybrid. The woman tossed me my phone with a sly smirk.

"Read." I scowled but followed her instructions anyway, wondering what it was that would make him stick his nose out of Mystic Falls.

"I need you, Klaus. New Orleans. Witches cemetery. Please help me. Yeah. I can already tell you that he won't come. We're waiting here for no reason."

"And why is that?"

"This news reeks of a damsel in distress from a mile away. I would never write to him like that. I also doubt if he even cares what happens to…" I stopped when I heard someone's scream in the distance. A man mentioned earlier had burst in with blood on his hands and lips.

Well… mistakes happen.

"Great! Now that we're all here, we can start. We need your help." The woman began to explain the whole thing about Marcel and the witches. Everything was clear except for one thing.

"And where exactly is my role in this Machiavellian plan of yours?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"And who said I would agree to it instead of just killing you all and taking Y/N out of here?"

"I can take myself and KATHERINE out, Klaus. I don't need your help."

"Oh, do you?" he took a few steps towards me to stand in front of me. I snorted, returning his dark gaze. There's no way I'll be afraid of him.

"That's how we get to the main topic." Sophie paused, catching our attention again. Klaus stood next to his brother, giving the witch his famous sinister look while he was waiting for her to continue. "You see, I have a special gift for knowing when a woman is pregnant."

"And how exactly is this fact important to us?"

"She's carrying Klaus' child."

I broke the sudden silence in the crypt with a very loud laugh.

"And you're insane or a very, very bad liar."

"I'm telling the truth! You're pregnant with his child." she tried desperately to convince us.

"Vampires can't procreate, ergo, I am not in any false pregnancy."

"Vampires can't. But werewolves can. And Klaus is both."

"That's ridiculous. Klaus, say something! She didn't tell the truth, did she?" I tried to find support from the speechless Klaus. By the way, I think it was the first time I saw him without words.

"Y/N, be quite for a second."

"What? Elijah, are you believing her?" the man responded with nothing, staring at me with a strange look.

Klaus walked over to me. He stopped a few steps in front of me, staring at my belly as if he was hypnotized.

"I can hear it." he whispered, looking at me in disbelief.

"Hear what?"

"The baby's heart."

"What? But... it's impossible." I suddenly felt my heart beating much faster, as I was unable to catch my breath properly.

"It is. Like being a hybrid or a witch without her own magic. And yet we're here. And we gonna have a baby."

"No. That's a lie. I... we... I need fresh air." I avoided the brothers standing in front of me and headed the way Klaus had come from earlier. Unfortunately, one of these witches blocked my way and grabbed my arm tightly.

"You're not going anywhere until we settle the details of our deal." right after she said that, I felt her hand being removed from me. I was pulled against someone's strong chest. The familiar smell of Klaus' perfume brought me a momentary sense of relief.

"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that's the last thing you gonna do before I take your miserable life away from you." Klaus growled, tightening his protective grip on me and scouring the present witches with a hostile glare.

"Calm down, both of you. Neither of you will have any use for her if she faints here. Klaus, take her outside. Elijah and I will take care of everything."

Klaus glanced at Elijah. His brother nodded, encouraging him to leave. The hybrid took my hand gently and led us out onto the streets of New Orleans. We stopped in a square. Klaus sat me down on a bench and knelt in front of me, carefully watching me take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down.

When I was sure my magic wouldn't suddenly blow up the whole city, I opened my eyes tentatively to meet the vampire's concerned gaze. I swallowed, turning my eyes away from him. He was still kneeling in front of me with his hands on my lap.

"Are you better?"

"I think so." I glanced at him nervously, fiddling with the bracelets on my wrist to internally brace myself for asking the original thousand-year-old hybrid about something incredibly... stupid. "Can you... go to the one place with me?"

"Are you sure you want to go back there, love?" I shivered when I heard this familiar nickname. I missed this. Klaus misread my reaction as he shrugged off his leather jacket and covered me with it.

"Thanks. I don't want to go back there. I think, well, I need to be perfectly sure it's true that..." I stopped, unable to say the words aloud. It would have been too real then, and right now I couldn't accept even the slightest possibility.

"That we're going to be parents?"

"Yhm. Will you go with me to the gynecologist? I don't want to do this alone."

"Anything you want, love. I'll check the address." he sat next to me and started searching for the location of the nearest clinic on his phone.

As we sat together in silence, I began to wonder at the absurdity of this situation. And the improbable, rational behavior of the hybrid sitting next to me.

"Klaus?" I asked, yanking him off the phone for a moment.

"Yes?"

"You're not... you know. Crazy about this? Or something like that. I mean... I thought you gonna ask me if it's yours, of course if it even exist, but still. You're so... calm. Like not you."

"Would you rather me to run mad around town and deny our baby?" I chuckled, imagining his lunatic walk through the streets.

"No. To be honest, I would have expected something like that than this, but it's a nice surprise. It's enough that one of us is scared to death. Thank you for keeping a cold head."

"Don't get used to it, love. C'mon. I know where to go."

In less than five minutes, we got to the building and waited in line. There were many other people in the waiting room, but what caught my attention the most was a couple sitting in the corner. Husband and wife. The woman was probably in her third trimester (or had quadruplets. God, please let me have only one if there are any.) The man whispered something tenderly into her belly, and she smiled at him with just as much adoration. Involuntarily, I imagined Klaus and myself in this situation. I glanced at the tense vampire next to me. He was also staring at the couple.

"Y/N Y/S?"

"It's me."

"Are you going alone or do you have any company, dear?"

"My boyfriend is coming with me." I said, taking Klaus' hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an amused smirk on his lips. We started walking hand in hand behind the doctor. The vampire leaned toward me.

"Boyfirend, huh?" he whispered in my ear, clearly pleased with the situation.

"Don't get used to it, love." I repeated his earlier words, trying to imitate his tone of voice. The man chuckled, politely following the doctor with me.

I had to admit that it was funny to watch Klaus in such a... strange situation. His nervous, slightly stressed demeanor gave me courage as I lay there waiting for the ultrasound results. The cold gel tickled slightly, but I gritted my teeth, waiting for the final confirmation of my fate.

"There it is. That's your baby. Congratulations!"

Klaus put his hand on my shoulder and leaned gently toward the small screen. I stared at the tiny speck as if it were enchanted. It really was happening. I will be a mother.

"Do you want to hear your baby's heartbeat?"

"Could you give us first a second alone, doctor?" Klaus spoke as he saw me still staring blankly at the screen.

"Of course. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Oh, my God. It's real. We'll have a baby." I choked out after a few seconds of silence between us.

"You took that information really quickly, love."

I punched him lightly on the shoulder, finally turning my attention to the man standing next to me.

"Stop joking with me. Aren't you scared? I mean, a few hours ago we were on the other side of the country, living our lives, and now we're looking at some stain, which is our baby. Are you that calm, or am I being dramatic?"

"Of course I'm afraid, but I know we're going to figure it out. Maybe if it were someone other than you, I would be paranoid and mad, but it's you. With you by my side? Nothing can go wrong." I burst into tears at his emotional confession. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"Come here, you idiot." I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled into him. "I hope Katherine got our things back."

"Yes. Speaking about her..." he said, moving away from me to look at my face.

"She is staying with me and you're not going to kill her." I said it in a tone that left no room for any objection. It's been 500 years; whatever conflict there was between them should be over by now.

"Absolutely not."

"Yes? So be prepared that if this little one is a girl, she'll be named after aunt Katherine, who couldn't be there for her mom because her dad is acting like he's on his period."

"You know you've been pregnant for a few hours, and you're already using it against me?" he asked resignedly. The grimace on his face was a clear sign of my victory.

"Get used to it. You're stuck with me for a while."

"I think I can work with that. Let's go home. I think uncle Elijah and Katherine will want to see the first photo of the newest member of the Mikaelson family."

~•♤♤♤•~

*Two months leter*

"Good morning, Y/N"

"Morning Elijah." I grunted from my book, never taking my eyes off the text I was reading.

"Have you eaten yet? Want me to make you pancakes?"

"Actually..." I didn't have time to answer, because an extremely happy hybrid came out of the kitchen with a large tray on which was my breakfast.

Elijah looked at his brother in disbelief as he sat comfortably next to me on the couch and began feeding me with a fork while I continued to read my book as if nothing had happened.

"Niklaus. Can you explain?" his brother was shifting his bewildered gaze between us.

"His werewolf hormones tell him to look after me. So when I told him I wasn't having breakfast today because I didn't want to stand in this heat by the stove, he made it his morning's main goal to make me a decent meal. At least Marcel and the witches will get some rest from him today."

"Werewolf hormones?" very amused Kol entered the living room, staring at the hybrid with a malicious smirk.

"Yes, brother. Werewolf hormones." Klaus' cool tone caught my attention away from the book.

"Of course... your werewolf hormones. So that's what they call it now. Just don't flood Y/N with this sudden tenderness, or the girl will get scared and run away from you again." before Klaus could make any move towards his younger brother, I grabbed his hand and moved him so that I could get more comfortable on his chest.

"He is weird." I commented as I took a grape from the bowl and popped it into Klaus' mouth, much to Elijah's astonishment.

"Weird? No. Just a little joker. I have to go now. I'll meet you later, Niklaus. Please, don't start without me."

"Do I want to know what he was talking about?" I asked, giving him a curious look.

"It depends. Will you get angry?"

"If it has to do with that teenage witch, Davina, that your adopted son treats like a daughter? Probably." his silence was an answer enough. I pulled away from him, eyeing him disapprovingly.

"Klaus."

"Yes, love?"

"Promise me you're not going to hurt her."

"And what does it matter? I'm not Elijah, how sure are you that I'll keep my word?" my angry look, however, fortunately made him give up. "Alright. She'll be fine." he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you. On the way back, you can stop by the store and buy me more chocolate and ice cream."

"As you wish."

He got up from the couch, placed a quick kiss on my already-showing belly, and left the living room, passing Rebekah as she entered. His sister looked at me curiously.

"What?" I asked, fed up with her penetrating gaze.

"Nothing. You two seemd very... compatible with each other. I'm impressed."

"Well, he's the father of my baby. We have to get along. For the baby's sake, it's best if we're friends."

"Surely." she hummed, completely unconvinced.

"Rebekah. What do you mean?"

"I mean that "just friends" wouldn't act that way. My brother never treated anyone with such affection. He's doing everything he can to impress you. For a bloody hell, he even changed his plan to take over the city for you!"

"She is right." Katherine walked past her and threw herself on the couch next to me. "He does everything he can think of to make you fall in love with him. For example, that "almost date" at the best restaurant in New Orleans last week. Or the fact that you've been given unlimited access to his credit cards, safes, stashes of clothes, and God knows what else. Or that weekend out of town so you could relax. Do you think they seriously didn't have a second room with two beds in the hotel?"

"Nik used the one bed trope? He's even more desperate than I previously thought." Rebekah snorted as she poured herself a glass of whiskey.

"Even if what you say is true, which I doubt, I have no intention of changing anything. Klaus and I work well as friends, and for the sake of this child, we will continue to be them so."

"So you don't love him back?" Rebekah questioned, coming to me, so she could stay in front of me. Her evaluative look somehow made me feel guilty.

"It doesn't matter what I want or feel. The most important thing for me is my child and I will do everything to ensure at least a little normality for them. If Klaus and I tried to be together and it didn't work out... At least this child deserves reasonably normal parents."

"What if you were happy together and created a loving family? Wouldn't that be better for everyone?"

"It's not worth the risk, Bekah." I replied, getting up from the couch to escape the inconvenient conversation with the original vampire.

"Risk of what?"

Losing him.

I didn't answer as I left the room. I decided to hide in the library for the rest of the day and try to forget the doubts the blonde had stirred up in me.

But my wild imagination did not give up so easily. I began to consider a possible relationship with Klaus. Despite what I told the girls, I wasn't blind to Klaus'… flirtatious remarks and behavior. I saw every long, stolen glance at me, every quick look at my lips during any conversation, and most of all, the longing shining in his eyes that was so similar to mine and that I somehow managed to hide from him.

I wanted to spend my life with him. But I also knew that I'm not enough to keep him away from his scheming and fighting for power. For the good of this baby, I had to be content with being his formal one-night stand and friend at best. Even if my heart yearned for him every single day.

Thinking about my unattainable future, I didn't even notice when I got to the library. But I certainly saw two people kissing in the room.

Klaus and Camille. At least he cleared up all my doubts.

I was probably the only one who noticed how my heart shattered into a million pieces. At least until Klaus pulled away from her, confused, and spotted me in the doorway.

"Y/N." he whispered, terrified.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt… I'll leave you alone."

"No! Y/N, wait!" he shouted, trying to get to me, but before he got even a step closer, I used my magic to teleport myself to a New Orleans street.

I leaned against the building next to me as the first post-teleport symptoms started to hit me and my head started spinning a bit. I shouldn't have done it while being pregnant, but well… I couldn't stay in the same room with these two any longer.

Once I had recovered, I decided to order myself a hot chocolate and sit with it in the park to collect my thoughts. I had to come up with some clever, eloquent way out of this predicament. And most of all, refrain from crying.

Thinking about this situation, after all, everything happened as I wanted. Klaus had found someone else to adore, so I could stop worrying about the deterioration of my relationship with the Mikaelsons.

We would be friends.

Just as I wished.

The only problems were my stupid broken heart and festering feelings of jealousy.

I wiped a tear running down my cheek with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Something that stupid couldn't get me off balance. I had to be strong. If not for myself, then at least for this little one.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pants pocket and glanced at the screen to see the photo of Klaus sleeping with me on the couch that I had set as his contact picture.

I remembered that night. It was one of the first month at the Mikaelson Mansion and also my favorite.

"Can't sleep?" Klaus stepped out of the shadows to stand in front of the fireplace, which flames I had been staring at earlier.

"Not even tried."

"May I?" he asked, pointing to the blanket that covered me. I nodded, opening the hem so he could slip into the space next to me. He put his arm around me, moving us into a more comfortable position. One of his hands automatically went to my slightly rounded belly. I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder, and returned to staring at the flames of the fire. "What's bothering you?"

"Remember when Tyler kidnapped me and…"

"Please tell me you're not going to lecture me again about how I shouldn't have attacked Elijah." he interrupted me with a groan of displeasure.

"I'm not, but your brother didn't deserve this. Even if he was talking some shit about you. You knew I would never believe it."

"You wouldn't?"

"Of course not. You always try to protect your family, not always in a good way, I have to admit, but still, I know you would never use your own child for your games. I trust you." he tightened his grip on me and cleared his throat.

"It's good to know you're at least on my side, love."

"Your siblings too. If you'd just let them in, maybe you'd see it too, but that's a topic for another time."

"I know better ways to spend my free time with you, love. One of them brought us to this situation." he smiled slyly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Very funny, but we have to talk about something serious."

"I'm sorry. What are you thinking about?"

"Have you ever thought about whether there is a chance for our child to be… a tribrid?"

"Tribrid?" he asked, confused, stopping to play with my hair.

"You know. You're half vampire, half werewolf; I'm a witch, siphon, but still… Can our baby inherit all of this from us?"

"They might as well only have the gene of a werewolf, a witch, a vampire, or a hybrid. I think all options are possible. Maybe in my mother's grimoire we can find the answer to that question. These books are as old as the world."

"You can include the birth of a miracle baby in your search. I hope we won't summon a demon into the world." I joked, turning slightly to look at his face again.

"I thought you already knew that the demon has been walking around this world for a long time, and you're cuddling with him on the couch. By the way, it's our search."

"Our? You seriously want to just give me access to your mother's precious books? The same ones that have so much knowledge inside them that you won't let any other witch see them whole, or even your siblings?" I was shocked. I would never in my life expect something like this from him, but on the other hand, he has done astonishing things many times before.

"You're different."

"Like how?"

"I trust you."

"You did?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. Those words were more striking than three others of equal importance he might have said to me. Klaus doesn't trust people that easily, I think he falls in love with them more often…

"You wouldn't be the first to hear about all my plans if I didn't. Besides, you're the mother of my heir..."

"Keep treating your family like a fucking dynasty, and you'll have to buy me a crown and my own castle." I cut him off when I heard that horrible term for our baby.

"Why do you need a castle when you already have your throne, love?"

"You're impossible." I chuckled at this awful attempt at flirting.

"That's why you like me."

"Maybe." I yawned suddenly, unaware of how tired I was. I felt the hybrid's soft, warm lips against my hair before both the blanket cocoon and his grip tightened around me.

"Sleep. I'll stay with you and I will chase away your nightmares."

"How did you know?" I asked, feeling him gently brush away the strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes.

"I know you. Besides, I can hear everything through these thin walls. I would rather hear your screams for other reasons than nightmares."

"Deviant."

"Only yours." I heard as if through a haze before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The next day, Katherine found us sleeping together and took a picture of us. One of my favorites.

Before I could answer the phone, I felt someone snatch it from my hand, and something hit my head at breakneck speed, knocking me out. Stupid witches.

~•♤♤♤•~

~A few hours later~

I was kneeling in front of the crib that Katherine and Rebekah had set up after the whole witches' fiasco. After those damn witches kidnapped me, they cast some strange spell on me and the baby to speed up her (as it turned out) growth and thus her birth.

A few hours ago, I was a human pregnant with a hybrid. Now I was a heretic, the mother of the thyrbid, the most powerful creature on earth.

I guess life with the Mikaelsons was all about sudden, unexpected changes. At least they weren't boring.

Elijah, Kol, Klaus, and Marcel were running around the city, killing the last witches who had allied with Esther. Rebekah and Katherine have been delegated to look after me and the baby until the boys get the hang of the situation. A bit sexist, but I didn't have the energy to argue about it. Not after I so impressively returned to the graveyard and killed half the coven.

After feeding on the blood from the bag, the girls gave me a moment alone with my sleeping daughter. Her first day in this world, and she was already trying to get killed.

"Y/N." Klaus' tired sigh snapped me out of my thoughts. For the first time in hours, I shifted my gaze to something other than my daughter and met a face as tired and bloodstained as mine.

"Hi." he knelt uncertainly beside me, glancing at the baby sleeping in the cradle.

"She is beautiful. So similar to you." he whispered softly, afraid he would wake her up at any moment.

"She has a look of the devil in her eyes. That's all you."

The girl stirred in her sleep, as if hearing us talk about her. Two loving, child-infatuated looks appeared on Klaus' and mine's faces.

"She needs a name. You made a decision?"

"I was thinking about Zoe and Caitlyn. But I think we both know that Katherine Jr. is the best fit for her."

"God no." I chuckled, trying not to wake the baby after seeing his terrified look..

"Got a counterproposal?"

"Hope."

"Hope. That's actually nice. Hope Mikaelson."

"Mikaelson?"

"What? Are you not the father?" I asked teasingly.

"I'm but... I thought you'd want her to have your last name."

"Mikaelson suits her better." I replied with a shrug.

"Well, then I guess it will be Hope Y/N Mikaelson." I smiled at him, resting my head tiredly on his shoulder. We both stared in awe at the new member of the Mikaelson family.

"How did you come to that? Hope?"

"With Elijah's little help. When I found you… dead. Elijah said that I ruined our family's last hope by making out with this bartender, which, by the way, is not exactly true."

"Klaus..."

"No. Let me finish. I've never been so helpless and scared in all my life as I was a few hours ago. Never, not even in the worst, darkest moments of my life, have I been so broken, so despairing, than when I held your dead body. Whatever you think now, whatever you feel, the truth has to be told. I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you, and each day only brings me closer to you. You're the only one who can make me so mad, terrified, or happy. You taught me unconditional love, and even if you don't share my feelings, I want you to know that you completely changed me. It will be my life's purpose to make sure that our daughter and you are safe and satisfied." I stared at him with tears in my eyes, listening to his touching confession.

"I was so mad at you and Camille, but... I can't blame her; falling for you is as easy as breathing. Not when I did it a long time ago."

"You did?"

"Yes. And I don't want to hide it anymore. I can't hide it anymore. As I turned into vampire, everything I feel for you since all this time is more intensive. My desires, my love, and my longing - I feel them so much that I can't even imagine spending one more hour without your words, touch, or kiss. I don't want to live in a world where we're just friends. So if you promise that this is forever, then I..."

Klaus cut me off, pulling me into a longing, long-expected, passionate kiss. I moaned into his mouth, pulling him as close as possible by the strands of his hair. At one point, I bit his lip until it bled. My new ability was immediately activated. My fangs slid out of my gums by themselves, digging into his lip and sucking more of his delicious, sweet blood. We broke apart when we were completely out of breath. Klaus licked his lips, staring lustfully at my black-veined face and bloody mouth.

"I promise. You're mine. For always and forever, love."

"And you're mine. For always and forever."

"Aw... Congratulations, Nik! It only took you one child to make her yours. I thought it would take you at least three." Kol suddenly appeared in the doorway, interrupting our moment.

Klaus growled at him and threw the baby monitor at his brother. Kol dodged at the last second and tossed the device back at him, sticking out his tongue before he ran as fast as his legs could take him. I giggled, drawing the hybrid into a tender kiss.

Yeah, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

Note

Omg hey I woul like to request something ! Ken x Reader (male, if possible) where the reader teaches Ken about the real world and they're also very in love. Thank you very much !

When Ken returned to the Real World again, he had a vision similar to Barbie's--realizing his owner was nearby.

Instead of a child....it's you, an adult who (like Gloria) inadvertently projected your own insecurities onto him while looking at an unboxed Beach Ken doll in your attic.

When you were younger, you really wanted to play with it unlike other boys who had action figures and nerf guns...but you were sorta shamed into keeping it boxed, as your parents said it would be more "valuable" one day.

Similarly..Ken had been stuck in a box all his life, trapped in the role of Barbie's accessory until recently.

So there's an instant connection when you two meet.

To make a long story short, you're like "ohhh hey I guess I kinda fucked up your mental stability, bro...you wanna come over and we can talk about it, man-to-man?"

He was very eager to go with you and learn more about your world beyond all the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

You tell him about using your "male privilege" for good, and one defining example was when a random woman taps him on the shoulder, looking terrified and almost in tears.

"H-Hi, um..this is gonna sound really awkward but can you two pretend to be my friends for a second? This guy has been following me-"

"Of course." You reassure her, before looking to the confused Ken and telling him to go along with it.

The creepy guy comes along and backs off when he sees you two standing there protecting this lady, and once he's gone, she thanks you with hugs before leaving.

"I think I did a good job." Ken turns to you for validation, eyes shimmering. "Was that good, [y/n]? I mean playing pretend is all I've ever done so-"

"Yep. You did great." You chuckle, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad she thought you were a safe person to approach."

He nods and is giddy the whole way back home, especially when you get into your car and show him the different mechanisms, with him clinging to every detail.

These life lessons you're teaching him, however, made him think back to the "Kendom"...and he admits to trying to reinvent patriarchy there and feels ashamed of how he treated the Barbies.

He didn't think he'd open up this quickly to you, considering he never had any "manly" talks with other Kens (besides beach-offs).

But besides you being his owner, there's something about you that just made him feel...secure enough to do so. Like he could tell you anything.

You listen and reassure him that acknowledging his mistakes was a great first step to unlearning those toxic mindsets.

With all of that finally hashed out, you decide to show him the simple pleasures of the real world. Like cooking, watching TV, playing video games, etc.

Just mundane things you regularly do, with Ken picking up on some of your habits/routines as well as having some independence of his own.

You two grow closer as a result over the next few weeks, and you began falling for him and his humor and his charming smiles-

Yeah, you're 100% smitten for this doll who crossed worlds to meet you.

But you're not sure if he felt (or even could feel) the same way, since he was made to love Barbie and was...clearly still getting over his "breakup" with her. So you left it be.

That changes when you show him some emotional movie where the lead male characters showed vulnerability (ie Good Will Hunting or Brokeback Mountain) and he unconsciously holds your hand as he stares at the screen, tears staining his cheeks.

While the credits roll, your heart melts as he looks at you with those pretty blue eyes, his watery smile persistent.

"Th-Thanks for showing me this, [y/n].."

"Of course, Ken. Now you know that us guys don't always have to pretend to be tough. We're allowed to have feelings." You rub your thumb across his knuckles, a sweet gesture which makes him blush.

On the subject of feelings, he realizes that the ones he has for you are...leaning more into romance than "bromance" (yeah you taught him that term and it's part of his vocabulary now).

He becomes uncharacteristically quiet when you ask him what's on his mind, before he leans in to kiss you on the cheek. Purely on impulse.

You're both flustered at what happened, yet he panics internally when you don't say anything, trying to get up to leave so you didn't see him cry over the stupid decision he made-

"Ken, it's okay." You take his hands, convincing him to sit back down. "I had no idea you swung that way, but I'm...actually glad."

"Glad? Y-You're not...mad or anything?" He sniffles.

"Of course not. I....was planning to come out of the closet sooner or later. I just didn't know when or how to bring it up, but....I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, thank god."

"So...does this makes us boyfriend and g....boyfriend?"

"If you want it to be, sure. I wouldn't mind a handsome doll being the love of my life." You wink.

Ken mirrors your smile, relieved to know you reciprocated his feelings.

Then he gets stumped on something and his eyebrows furrow.

"Wait...what closet were you talking about?"

Oh boy.

You just chuckle and give him a kiss on the lips.

Falling in love with a Ken doll from Barbieland certainly wasn't on your bucket list....

But you're perfectly content with that.

#oop kinda went to town on this one-#clanask #barbie x reader #barbie spoilers #ken x reader #ken carson x reader #male reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #headcanons

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fatkish · 4 months

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I was wondering if I could get Tenya with a friend reader that has verbally and physically abusive parents (and if it could end with him helping reader leave, that would be great!)? Thank you for considering!

Tenya Iida x Reader Drabble

Your parents weren’t the best. They are physically and verbally abusive towards you. You have a mutant quirk that gives you dragonfly wings, pointed ears compound eyes similar to that of an insect and a lizard like tail. You’re able to breath fire and are impervious to flames. But your parents aren’t mutants so they think certain aspects of your appearance are ugly, even though you’re covered in iridescent, shiny (f/c) scales.

You are a student of class 1A and are in seat 21 and are ranked 7/21 academically. Quirk-wise, you’re ranked 10/21 for your overall quirk performance in Aizawa quirk apprehension test. You were transferred to UA due to your parents insistence, your teachers at your previous school knew about your parents treatment of you and tried to help you but they failed. When they sent over your student transcripts, they alerted UA about it secretly, needless to say, UA accepted you after seeing how well you used your quirk and the fact that you were among the recommended students.

It was a weekend day when you unintentionally met Iida. You and Iida had become friends over the early school year and became study buddies. You had been out getting groceries after studying at the library and were running late getting home that afternoon when you ran across Iida. Being the responsible young man that he is, he insisted he help you with your errands and to avoid suspicion, you agreed to let him help.

You both had finished your shopping and were headed towards your house. You tried to insist that you didn’t need any help bringing everything in but he persisted. So you unlocked your front door and let the two of you in. You both walked into the kitchen and you began to put the groceries away with Iida’s help. You had been putting the vegetables away when your mother walked in and eyed Iida.

“(Y/n), who is this? I don’t recall saying you could bring anyone over.” Your mother chided in a sugary sweet tone that you knew meant you were in trouble.

“Ah! Hello, my name is Tenya Iida and I humbly apologize for entering your house unexpectedly, I merely wanted to assist my friend (y/n) with their chores since we happened to meet at the store. Please accept my most sincere apologies” Iida deeply bowed as he spoke to your mother.

Unknown to Iida, your mother was the worse of your parents and would never pass up a chance to ridicule you. Knowing that nothing good could come from this interaction, you kept your head down as your mother invited Tenya to stay for dinner. As your mother talked to Iida in the living room, you were stuck in the kitchen making dinner, which consisted of chicken Katsu curry, sesame spinach salad and miso soup. For dessert you made Sakura rice cakes and Sakura mochi.

It was 5:00 pm when your dad got home and you had just finished making dinner when you mom walked in with Iida and your father. After greeting your father, Tenya and your parents sit down for dinner while you serve everyone. Iida can somewhat sense the tension but he doesn’t know what the reason for it is. As you sit down and you all begin to eat your mother begins to talk.

“So Iida dear, I hear you go to school at UA, how is it?”

“Well, the teachers are among Japan’s finest and we learn very valuable lessons from them.”

“You seem like a very smart and accomplished young man”

“Why thank you Mrs. (l/n)

“It’s too bad our (y/n) can’t be more like you. I mean, they can cook well at least, but that’s not enough to get them anywhere. I just fear for their future ya know, with the way they look, it’s not like anyone is going to be attracted to them. Our little (y/n) will be alone for their entire life”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it’s right for you to say such things about (y/n), they’re incredibly smart and talented and are one of the top students in our class. I don’t think there’s any need to fear for their future”

Iida tried to reason and defend you but your mother persisted with her cruel words. You tried to get Iida to stop but he continued to defend you. After a few more harsh words left your mother’s lips, Iida had had enough.

“I think it’s time I went home, thank you for your hospitality. It is late and I should be heading home.” You had walked Iida to your door and that was when you both heard your mother call you a freak. You hung your head as you said goodbye to Iida. As he left you went back inside and closed the front door only to be smacked across the face by your mother.

Your mother began to berate you and scold you for inviting a ‘friend’ over. She continued to hit you as you just let her hit you, knowing that fighting back would only make it worse. It was when she used her heat quirk to burn you that the front door opened and Iida pushed your mother back. He quickly had you gather your things as he called the police on your mother for abuse.

When the police came and arrested your mother, Iida offered for you to come and stay with him and his family. You tried to deny his offer but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He brought you to his house, which was huge by the way, and explained to his mother what had happened and that you needed a place to stay. When his mother heard what your mother did to you she told you to stay as long as you needed.

His family was so kind and you got to meet his older brother Tensei. His family welcomed you and treated you nicely and it made you realize how much better things could be. Eventually Iida’s family became your found family and you loved having dinner with them. Your parents had lost custody of you and the Iida’s happily adopted you and you officially became part of the family.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #iida tenya x reader #iida x reader #iida tenya #tenya iida x reader #tenya lida #tenya x reader

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nayatarot777 · 1 year

Text

how can you co-create with the universe to attract fortune to yourself? 🪡🎨 • pac 🎴

if you’d like a personal reading, then see info here

subscribe to the patreon if you’re interested in daily messages from spirit, weekly pac readings for “the week ahead”, exclusive extended readings to the tumblr PACs, exclusive pac readings - such as 18+ and love pac readings - new moon + full moon readings, plus more. i’m on there everyday, just doing my thing 😂

{• pile one •}

cards: the hierophant, knight of wands, 3 of cups

spirit is suggesting that you focus on finding a community that connects people based on their faith. a community of people who are focused on sharing knowledge and downloads that they’re receiving from the divine. whether this is a spiritual community, a self-help community, maybe even a religious community (please be careful with any communities like this, because when you’re not, that’s when you fall into the trap of a cult 🙃). i’m also seeing that you guys could create your own community of people on your own platform in which people are able to learn valuable lessons from you - especially about friendship, happiness, “sisterhood”, i’m hearing. i’m seeing jupiter in the 4th house/jupiter in cancer, so if you guys have either of those placements (or maybe sagittarius in the 4th, moon in sagittarius, something that mixes cancerian and jupiterian energy together) then your abundance is tied to womanhood and femininity. so surrounding yourself with likeminded women/feminines or helping them in some way will bring a lot of abundance to you. i’m also hearing “changing people’s definition of happiness”. motivating people to follow their own morals and values, leading you to do the same.

{• pile two •}

cards: 2 of swords, knight of pentacles, strength

you attract abundance when you’re in your ego. not when you let your ego control you, but when you control your ego and know how to direct your strengths into some type of creative process that you can persistently focus on. when you focus on taming your ego so that you can use it to your advantage. you need to honour your ego a lot more. i feel like, with the 2 of swords, spirit is saying that you’re listening to external noise from the outside world wayyy too much. you don’t need to look for direction and guidance from other people. other people can’t help you. you need to listen to your intuition. certain communities (especially the “new age”, phony ass ‘spiritual community’) will teach you that it’s a negative to be in your ego. no tf it’s not. your ego is your identity. who you are. if you don’t know who you are, then you’re a nobody. a pushover. with no morals, no personal values, no backbone (which is probably why those same communities promote toxic positivity and being a doormat for the sake of appearing like you’re all ‘love and light’ and shit). fuck all of that. you need to have patience with yourself when developing your ego because you may not even know who you are currently. once you do, you’ll find your courage and strength to listen to your intuition and invest into what it’s telling you. your ego is your life force. feed it with valuable energy by valuing it - regardless of other people’s opinions. only insecure people who don’t know who they are will get triggered by you. who gives a damn about them though? this is your life. start living it as the person who you truly want to be.

{• pile three •}

cards: the emperor, queen of swords, 8 of pentacles

you guys are extremely intelligent people. you need to find confidence in your knowledge and what you know that you know - especially with something practical that you’re trying to master or perfect. you have an eye for what needs to be improved in your day-to-day, practical life or in your business. whenever the emperor comes out with the 8 of pentacles, it definitely indicates entrepreneurship to me as a reader. and this entrepreneurship could be surrounding honesty, truth, giving direct messages to people so that they can improve their life. this could be life coaching, motivational speaking (especially with this emperor (aries energy) mixed with this queen of swords). you guys know how to pump people up to start working on themselves and aspects of their life as much as possible. and you guys are naturals at this. start just posting random posts of encouragement or motivation whenever you get the inspiration to, and i feel like you’ll attract a lot of people to you who are willing to give you abundance in exchange for the energetic abundance that you give to them. you can really monetise your words and your motivation due to the guidance that you’re able to give people about their sense of self and how that relates to their manifestations/goals + achievements. this aries energy could also be about physical activity - like fitness training. you know how to stay on people’s necks so that they complete a task thoroughly and over and over again to the point where they perfect it. and you can do that for yourself. feed into that.

#psychic readings #tarot reading #pick a card #pac #pick a photo #divination #tarot #pick a picture #pac reading #spirituality #daily tarot #intuitive #tarotcommunity #tarot cards

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vvh1sk3y · 2 years

Note

Headcannons on Simon Riley being a first time father! 😻

character(s): simon "ghost" riley, afab!reader

warning(s): pregnancy?

for a long time simon did not want to be a father, he always told himself he would never be capable of doing so in fear of somehow being like his own father

when he found out you were pregnant, he put his worries and doubts aside, he knew that things would work out

he worried over every little thing, if you were a little tired, throwing up, sore, swollen, he was in panic mode even you told him these things were normal.

when you went into labor simon made sure to be there the entire time, he absolutely hated seeing you in pain to the point where he was almost yelling at the nurses there at one point.

once your baby arrived, a little girl, simon balled. you had seen him cry before, but nothing like this. he couldn’t believe the both of you had made a little human.

just like when you were pregnant, every little thing your daughter did- cry, puke, maybe have a bad diaper- simon would overthink and become a nervous wreck.

simon learned how to control his temper a bit more and vowed to never yell at his daughter.

as you and simon’s daughter grew older, she became very attached to him. going away for work was harder than before, as he couldn’t always call or communicate with you and your daughter.

some nights you’d wake up to her crying asking to see simon, and you’d have to explain it would be a while before her father would be home.

the second simon was home? the man had no personal space. she would follow him around everywhere he went, she’d wait for him outside the bathroom, if he went out to get the mail she’d follow, but of course simon didn’t mind.

when his daughter was nine, he taught her how to shoot a gun (without telling you of course)

simon made sure to teach your daughter as many valuable lessons as possible, he didn’t want her to end up like him.

after being seriously injured on a mission away, it made simon realize he really wanted to leave his life in the military behind and become a family man, he had a long talk with price that day.

he burned all but one of his masks and most of his military stuff, hoping to be able to leave that life behind him once and for all.

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thatone-brightstar · 1 year

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ohhhhh bestie The Bear & The Fox got me GOOD, more please!!!

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 2: Like a fox caught in the headlights

Words: 5.7k

Summary: After four weeks at The Beef, you've learnt some valuable lessons. Finding Carmy adorable is the most dangerous one.

a/n: Because I am nothing if not a people pleaser, here's the second chapter for that one person that asked lol Enjoooy xx

P.S. Reader is Latina in this, so there will be some spanish lessons.

After a full four weeks at The Beef, you had realized a couple of valuable lessons. Subs and sandwiches were not the same, and Richie had a very strong opinion about the “uncultured jackasses” that confused them, Tina was nicer than everyone gave her credit for (though it probably helped that both your mother and her had gone to the same high school together) and lastly; Carmy being a decent person would be more counter effective than you anticipated. Especially when you learned that your building was about four blocks away from his and that he drove Richie’s car, because the other had his license suspended for parking on a handicap spot while buying cigs.

It had been completely accidental and not at all your intention, but on your sixth day after closing and when your idiot brother had forgotten to pick you up, you naively thought it would be fine to walk thirty three minutes to get home. The L was not an option as the last time you had taken it, someone stole your access card and it would take at least a month to get a new one. So you and your uncomfortable platform sneakers were stuck for at least another half hour until you could make it home. Or so you thought.

Ten minutes after leaving The Beef, with your jacket zipped all the way up to avoid the harsh late March wind, you had fallen into a comfortable pace. You’d normally wear your headphones to tune out the city sounds, but it was almost 11pm and the fear of getting jumped was enough to keep you alerted of your surroundings. The last thing you needed right now was a shiv to the throat. However, for a Sunday night, the streets were livelier than you had expected. People congregated outside bars and the family owned pizzerias that remained open past midnight to feed the night owls, stoners and drunks. You admired the checkered table cloths they used and added the image to the folder in your mind under ‘shit to make the beef less sad’ as you made your way down the blocks.

As you reached the crosswalk and waited for your turn, a dusty black car slowed its pace then stopped fully beside you. You brazed yourself for the usual catcalls or hollering while you kept your head forward, though the sweaty hand around your strap gave another impression.

“Hey!” You heard from the car once the window was down and you did your best to hold your tongue and not tell the asshole to just fuck right off, but when you heard him call your name, this time you turned surprised.

Carmy sat staring up at you through the cracked window, right hand already pushing the passenger door open and waiting for you to get in. There was a slight frown on his brow as you stood motionless looking at him because he was the last person you expected to see and also holy fuck, did that blue jacket bring out the already magnificent color in his eyes. The sound of a horn blaring from behind you brought you back from the ridiculous turn your thoughts were taking and you cleared your throat climbing into the warm vehicle. He sat staring at your profile as you took your bag off and placed it between your feet on the car floor, then pushed your hair behind both ears to clear your face and smile towards him.

A small ‘Hey’ was thrown in his direction and the warmth in your skin subsided once his gaze was no longer resting on you.

“You weren’t planning on walking, were you?” He asked, concerned.

“Would it be so bad if I say yes?” You ask back a bit ashamed. “It’s not that far.” you try to justify, playing with your fingers.

He asked you where you lived and when you told him the location, the car stopped in its tracks almost comically, although it would have been if he hadn’t stared at you with such a bewildered expression.

“That’s like an hour by foot!” He scolded, putting the car back in motion and merging successfully into the main road.

“No, it's like.. thirty minutes at most!” You fought back. “Besides, it’s not like I do it daily, my fucking brother just forgot to pick me up tonight.”

“Your brother the carrot?” He asked, now smiling softly.

A breathy almost giggle left your mouth as you turned to him. “Yeah, the carrot.”

That’s when he told you that it was fine if you ever needed a ride back because he lived in the same area anyway. ‘You can ask for help, you know’ He said, ‘It’s better than putting yourself in danger’. And you could have just left it at that, your boss being a decent human being. But the warmth of the car, the lowness of his voice and the sweet humming of a folk song playing in the radio, had your head swimming with scenarios that grew too quickly for you to stop them, even though you knew you had to.

He dropped you at the door of your building with a ‘Goodnight.’ and ‘Sleep well’, and as you climbed every step towards the fifth floor, you were reminded of the unspoken rule you had with yourself: No in-work relationships. No dating coworkers. No messing around.

No matter how funny, how nice, how hot or how lost you could get in the pool in their eyes.

That’s how your routine came to be. At least until Richie got his license back, which you secretly hoped was not anytime soon. You’d finish closing up front, take your bag from the office and wait for Carmy out back until he was done scrubbing clean every surface of the stainless steel kitchen. Sometimes you’d wait inside too, disguising it behind wanting to keep him company but in actuality you were just afraid someone would creep on you from the dark while alone outside. The car ride would consist of meaningless chatter on music, movies and on who won the prize to “Shitty customer of the day”, and on your way up home you’d repeat the same mantra for each step. As many times as it took for your beating heart to slow and for your skin to cool down before reaching your door.

***********

Carmy hated to admit it, even to himself, but it was evident from afar how accustomed he had become to your presence, enough that it affected him on your day off. It was ridiculous really, how off his game he was. Calling out wrong orders, oversalting the broth and even burning his hand with a metal handle he had forgotten over the fire. Tina snickered when she heard a ‘Fuck!’ behind her, followed by the clinging of metal falling to the ground.

“You good, Jeff?” She asked teasingly, looking over her shoulder at the chef running his hand under the faucet. “She’ll be back tomorrow, you know?”

He didn’t answer, he knew better than to do so because everything in that place could be used against him. She was right though, you’d be back tomorrow, you always were. On your first day off after being hired, he had spent the whole day doubting if you would be back the next, thinking about having to put the help wanted sign up again made his already unstable stomach worse. Then you showed up unexpectedly during the small break with a box of pastries you had made as a thank you for the team, each decorated with little edible flowers and colorful glossy coats. He had secretly snapped a picture of his, before biting into the heated crust, his stomach had welcomed the delicious warmth of food for the first time all day and the feeling followed him around during the rest of his shift.

On your third day off, you had brought your mother for dinner on a slow night. Your cheeks had gone up in flames when she let him know just how much you talked about the mouthwatering food served at The Beef and the wonderful people working there, before yelling something in spanish to Tina and leaving you both alone in comfortable silence.

“So you think our food’s delicious?” He asked with a teasing smile and bumping his shoulder against yours. You stood side by side while watching the two older women catch up in the kitchen like a sort of family reunion. Carmy normally didn’t let strangers into his kitchen, he was protective like that, but strangely for you, he was glad to make an exception.

“Of course I do!” you said with an embarrassed laugh. “You’re a great cook, chef,” You said sincerely and his eyes shone brighter than ever under the fluorescent lights. “You’re just too busy noticing your own faults to see it.”

Your mother had called for you and a part of him was glad she did, because he did not know how he would have resisted leaning down into your soft lips after such a beautiful confession. They didn’t charge for dinner, and no matter who you tried to give the bill to, no one would take it. ‘Orders from the boss’ they’d say grinning, and when you turned to the office, you saw a messy head of golden hair hide behind the door frame.

Now on your fifth day off, he wondered if you’d show up. He allowed himself a bit of delusion as he ran his injured hand under the tap, and imagined you arriving in one of those flared high waisted jeans you liked to wear. He stared at his hand and thought of what it would feel like to caress your cheek with it, your soft skin against his calloused one, doe eyes staring lovingly up at his as he held you closely between his arms… Fuck, okay,no this is weird, he thought. He should not be thinking of you like this and if they had anything similar to an HR department, this would definitely be a violation of some sort. And that’s not even talking about the wild scenarios his mind would make up late at night when he couldn’t get any sleep.

Even though it was just in his mind and no one else could see inside his little fucked up brain, it was still wrong. Especially when he knew you couldn’t feel the same. You were just being nice, he’d remind himself. That’s who you were. And he was being a pervert and a terrible boss by assuming otherwise. He had to get his shit right and his priorities straight, saving the fucking Beef from ruin was the first. He had to leave his stupid lovesick scenarios for when he could finally give his tired body a rest.

He pulled himself out from the rubble of his thoughts, turned the water off and dried his hands on the white rag hanging from his surprisingly clean apron. Then he made his way back to the station and continued on dinner prep with the usual automated performance he had trained so hard to cultivate. This he knew, this was familiar and precise and gave no space for errors or misinterpretations. This was his. Him. No doubt, insecurity or fear of reciprocation. A vegetable was still a vegetable no matter how he felt towards it, and he still had to be your superior no matter how he felt towards you.

************

“I don’t know which one to get!” You hummed through the phone resting between your shoulder and cheek as your hands were busy comparing the very similar fabrics in front of you.

You hear Sydney groan exasperated through the line and you can clearly picture her rolling her eyes at you.

“Just pick whichever! It’s not like anyone will notice the difference anyway.” She answered, and you can hear a light buzz of noise from her side.

“I’ll notice.” You mumbled back.

In your defense and to your well color-trained eye, they were very different. While the design was the same, checkered style pattern with white, they both had negative spaces of different shades of blue, one slightly darker than the other. You were leaning towards the softer baby blue, but it wasn’t the right shade. It was the third craft store you visited and none seemed to carry the specific type of blue you were in search for. It was a stretch because you were sure that shade’s only purpose was to exist between tired eyelids and golden lashes, but you were too stubborn and you had to at least try to find something similar.

“I’m sure people will just be happy to not eat directly on the plastic tables. Bring the one you like best.” Syd said after a moment of silence.

“Ugh, I guess.” You finished, finally deciding on the baby blue material.

You walked around the art supply section and picked out the things you were there for originally, a few tubes of oil paints, paint sealant, a detailing brush and a new spatula were what you checked from your list. It wasn’t your intention to buy more than that, but the sight of the shiny fabric at the end of the aisle had you dialing Syd’s number and asking if she thought Carmy would mind if you bought things for the restaurant with your own money. You were planning to anyway, but the reassurance was nice. ‘Anything that comes from you is okay with him’ she had said and a fuzzy feeling bloomed in your chest.

“We’re still on for drinks later, right?” She asked while you scanned everything through the self checkout.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna drop all this shit off today, go home and change and meet you outside after closing.” You mentally groaned at all the back and forth you’d have to do but it was better than carrying everything home then back to The Beef the next day.

Also, you had secretly taken a liking to dropping by unexpectedly to “say hi”. You were never the kind of person to go to your place of work on your off day, you never understood those people because, why be there six days of the week then go back on your off when you could literally go anywhere else? But The Beef had felt more like a home than a job ever had for you. It was warm and inviting, and you understood why there were so many regulars who still bought their daily sandwich after so many years. It felt nice to work for a place that was more for the people than the prestige. It was a breath of fresh air in a world surrounded by how ridiculous you could make a dish and still have it be considered food.

“You sure it’s not just cause you wanna see a certain broody someone?” Syd asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts.

You stayed silent on the line and that was enough of a confirmation for Sydney to burst into laughter from the other side.

You spat a ‘Shut up.’ and hung up on her mid laugh, cheeks ablaze.

After leaving the store, you walked the fifteen minutes to The Beef with your headphones on and carrying your bag of supplies in blissful peace. You liked days like these, the sun shining softly through the clouds, the air fresh and crisp and your heart light in your chest. The beat of the music coordinated with your steps on the sidewalk as you made your way through the industrial looking streets, letting your mind roam to its recent favorite topic of wild messy hair and freckle dusted skin. Syd’s words were still fresh in your mind, but also was the rule you had been repeating to yourself more than usual.

Each time he did something nice, you had to convince yourself that that’s just the way he was and to stop reading into something that wasn’t there. Every time you caught him looking was justified by him just spacing out and you being in the general direction of his gaze. The free dinner was him being kind, the rides home were him being decent and the sweet smiles as you crossed the kitchen towards the steward section were… Your doom, honestly.

Every time you made your way across with empty plates, even if it was only for a brief second, he snuck a peek from his bowed position over the expo, then smiled loosely back down. The first time you had caught his stare, you had carelessly dropped the dishes on Angel and into the muddy water then rushed out the back door because the space around you had become insufferably hot. The image had replayed like a broken record all day, rewinding in the exact moment his ocean eyes bore into yours like waves crashing against a rocky coast. It was criminal. And you would take to your grave how the memory had fueled the fire in your lower belly on the nights when you couldn’t get any sleep. Just remembering brought back the familiar ache between your thighs and you quickened your steps to relieve the sensation. Fucking hell, had it really been that long? It probably had been because you couldn’t remember the last time you got laid, or even been kissed for that matter. No wonder you were so wound up over a simple look.

‘That's it’, you thought. ‘I’m just hormonal and it’s causing my stupid brain to confuse horniness with like. Nothing more’ So on the last block to The Beef you made up your mind: you were going to find a stranger to sleep with that night, then this whole Carmy situation would die down and you would see it with clear eyes for what it really was, Carmy just existing and you being a pervert for misinterpreting anything he did.

You took a deep breath as you pushed the glass door to find an empty restaurant and you assumed everyone was taking a well needed break in the back before the dinner rush. You pulled your headphones off and made your way into the familiar hallway that led from the front, past the walk in and into the office. Your plan was to drop the bag off and head right out, you'd see everyone after closing anyway, but just as you left everything by the foot of the crowded desk and turned to leave, a tall shadow standing by the door made you jump back startled.

“Jesus fuck, Carmy!” You yelled at him with a hand against your thumping chest. He stared at you with a contained smile and it was hard not to smile back. “Was that payback?!” You asked, still trying to control your breathing.

“For what?” He asked innocently and entered the small office space. In the reduced area, his broad shoulders looked bigger and the thumping in your ears was no longer from the fright. “What's that?” He asked, pointing to the bag you had discarded on the ground.

“Oh, um…” God, why are you so nervous? “It's just some stuff I got for the front. Tablecloths and napkins and… stuff.” You answered by playing with your hands. You didn’t want him to be upset even though Syd had assured you it would be fine.

He crouched down towards the bag and rummaged around inspecting the insides.

“I was planning on putting it on the tables in the dining area… I hope that’s okay?” You added after what felt like minutes of silence.

“No, that- that’s really nice of you. Thank you, chef.” He said, looking up at you.” You bought this with your own cash?”

“Yeah.. but it’s no problem, truly. I just really fuckin’ hate those Starbucks napkins.” You joked and he sniggered while straightening up.

He scanned you with amused brows and for the first time all day you felt self conscious of your choice in clothing, or lack of choice.

You had been home all day working on a panting in the makeshift studio you had created in your living room. Your grandfather had helped you set up an easel and some drawers near the windows with the most natural lighting as a fun hobby at sixteen, and almost ten years later, the space had become a sort of sanctuary during stressing times or just when you needed to clear your head. Half the house was now covered with your creations, mostly paintings, but also a few sculptures from that time you tried to experiment with clay and almost blew up your mother’s oven.

That morning, you had been working on a piece centered around a stormy sea and a boat adrift, headphones on and too far gone into your own head, when you realized you had squeezed out the last drop of teal paint from the little tube. You could have just mixed and matched until the shade was correct, but your back protested when you finally unhooked your left leg from under you and that was a loud enough sign that you needed to move from the uncomfortable wooden stool you had spent hours on. So without changing from the paint covered overalls, cliche sure but cute, you thought, you pulled your sneakers on then kissed your grandpa goodbye and closed the door behind you.

Now as you stood in front of Carmy, a baggy mess of dried colors, trying to rack your brain for an explanation, you noticed just how bad of an idea it had been. You felt like a kindergartener’s discarded art project, and fuck’s sake, the two space buns at the bottom of your neck were certainly not helping. You scratched the back of your head nervously, trying to avoid his teasing gaze, then rested your hand flat on the desk to turn fully towards him.

“I was painting, okay?” You mumbled and for a second you felt like a kid getting caught doing something bad. It also didn’t help that he was older than you and a dark part of your screwed up brain searched for his approval.

“I would hope so.” He answered between a breathy laugh.

It was an involuntary move from his part, down right impertinent. Something he would never do in a million years, especially to a woman while they stood alone in a closed space with less than a foot between their chests. But his hand was already half way up when he realized what his body was doing, his gaze too caught on the light strip of cyan paint above your brow to realize how your breath had gotten stuck in your throat and your pupils had swallowed your irises whole. His cold fingers feathered away the slight bangs that framed your face and as his skin made contact with yours for the very first time since you met, an electrified chill ran from the base of your neck, down through every nerve ending exposed to the air and causing bumps to rise along your skin. It was completely innocent, but the contrast in temperature, combined with the close proximity and the emotions you had tried to sweep under the rug, had your heart in a whirlpool dropping down to the depths of your stomach. The bubble of air in your throat didn’t know whether to go up or down, so you simply stayed still as he gently rubbed his forefinger against your temple. Your mouth felt dry and your eyebrows were screwed together in a mixture of angst and anticipation. You felt like a fox caught in the headlights, treading carefully around the hunter.

Your eyes drooped mindlessly to his parted lips and the voice in the back of your head whispered how easy it would be to stand on your toes and close the small distance separating you. The hand resting on the desk had curled around the edge and you knew your knuckles had turned white from the force of your grip. It felt like time had stopped altogether, only your echoing heartbeat was the telltale of the seconds passed. You dragged your eyes slowly back up his features until they stuck to the warm icy blue and you could feel his thumb unconsciously rubbing slow circles.

‘It would be so easy.’ you both thought.

His face was a whisper away, yet it felt like a dessert separated you from the only body of water you wanted to desperately bathe in. Just one swim wouldn’t hurt, right? No one would know it happened. A one and done situation. ‘Just to get you out my system.’ you thought. Or rather whispered.

“What?” Carmy mumbled confused.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pulled back, blinking rapidly to control the panic beginning to bubble in your veins. Fuck! You tried to settle your eyes anywhere except on him while you struggled to decipher what the actual hell you were going to let happen. From your peripheral vision, you could tell he was also disoriented by the way he pulled his hand down his face, stopping to cup his mouth with strength as if not trusting what could come out of it.

“I-I” Your voice sounded foreign, barely above a whisper. “I’m gonna go…um-” You swallowed the bubble of air and wrapped your arms around yourself with your eyes trained on the ground, trying to pass by Carmy without touching, as if the simple contact could sting your already sensitive skin.

He reached his hand towards you and called your name. “No- shit, wait I-”

“Hi, mija!” You heard and both of you instantly turned to where Tina stood by the door to the walk in.

She made her way to you and you tried your best to swallow the batch of tick saliva that comes before the bile and smiled. You pulled her into a hug and kissed her left cheek out of tradition.

“Hey, just came to drop off some things.” You spoke as nonchalantly as one can when you’re on the verge of a breakdown.

“Good, then you can save me the trip and give your mom this.” She said while handing you a small roll of five dollar bills. “It’s for the tanda. Tell her my number’s up next week, eh?” She caressed your cheek softly then turned to Carmy with a doubtful look. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’ll give it to her.” You interrupted and threw the money without care inside your tote bag, turned to Carmy one last time, then marched through the hallway and out the glass door.

You didn’t stop until you knew you were at a distance safe enough to crash. You leaned against the bricks of a nearby flower shop and closed your eyes because, even though you had never fainted before, this felt very much how people describe it could feel. Your whole head was on the edge of explosion along with your ribcage and throat. Your mouth was dry and wet at the same time, and the simple feeling of saliva on your tongue was enough to have you gagging with your forehead against the wall.

“Okay, get your shit together.” You whispered to yourself between heavy sniffles.

Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. With as much strength as you could manage, you pulled on the long sleeves of your shirt and wiped the trail of salty water beginning to slide past your cheeks. Breathe. The last thing you needed was to have a panic attack in the middle of the street, so even as your vision blurred at the edges and your chest heaved from the lack of air, you did your best to hail a cab. With the first strike of luck in the past ten minutes, a yellow car pulled by your side and you wasted no time in getting in. With little control left, you told him your address and as he drove in the direction of your house, the grimy restaurant street sign grew smaller in the rear view mirror and the single thread that kept your fumbling heart together finally tore.

You arrived home in a numbed state, your body felt drained after going through so many emotions in a short period of time and you were glad everyone was out because how could you explain the absolute shitshow you had stupidly put yourself through the last hour? You dragged your feet across the wooden floor of the hallway that led into the living room, dropped your bag over the island in the kitchen and headed straight into your bedroom. As soon as the soft fabric of the covers wrapped around you like a protective cocoon, the dam in your chest broke open and a nasty sob left your lips.

God, how could you ruin this so catastrophically?! How were you going to show your face at work after this? You could just imagine Carmy telling everyone how you had come onto him in his office and a new wave of tears rushed to your eyes. The first job you actually liked in years and you ruin it by almost kissing your fucking boss! ‘What the hell is wrong with me?!’

‘In our defense, he came onto us first’, the voice in your head tried to rationalize.

The intimate clip played back in your mind’s eye from a third’s perspective, like a movie scene you’ve watched a thousand times in the past half hour. ‘It can’t be completely my fault, right?’ You ask yourself, analyzing his expression through your memories. It had to mean something, you don’t just look at anyone like that.

“Fuck!” You yelled exasperated and rubbed the palm of your hands against your tired eyes.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and opened up Syd’s contact on the message app, ready to write an excuse as to why you needed to cancel. But as your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a part of your brain wondered if you really wanted to. It would make no use to brood in your own self pity for the rest of the day, and maybe the therapeutic process of getting ready to go out would help clear your head and let you see the situation in a better light. Also, you still had a plan to see through and after the day’s events, your skin had been left itching for contact, no matter where it came from.

So instead of canceling, you texted Sydney that you’d meet them at the bar instead, then spent the next ten minutes looking for a playlist that would inspire you for as long as your ritual would last.

**********

The hellscape of a day was finally over and Carmy had never been more grateful. After the last order had been served, he retreated into the office without a word to anyone and had been sitting staring at the same spot since. Thankfully no one knew what had him in such a distasteful mood and he was sure as hell that it was going to stay that way. They didn’t need to know how he had scared you away with his impulsive actions or that he was to blame if you stopped showing up without explanation. The team had barely started to respect him and knowing that he had borderline harassed everyone’s favorite waitress would have him catching a punch or two.

‘Just to get you out my system.’

Your voice repeated like an echo bouncing off the walls in his skull as he tried to make sense of the words, but no matter how many times he flipped them around and rearranged them, he still didn't know what they meant. Was he in your system? Was he really so dense, that he hadn’t noticed you felt something for him, or was he reading too much into an inexistent situation?

His fingers tingled at the memory of your soft warm skin against them, the way your eyebrows had knit together while you stared at him with the most wide eyes he had ever seen and how you had unconsciously parted your lips when your eyes flickered towards his. Fuck, he really was an idiot. You were probably the first woman he had looked at with such adoration and he had to go and screw it up with his lack of control and stupidness.

He layed back in his chair and ran his cold hands through his hair, eyes trained on the dimly lit ceiling above him. An exasperated breath left his chest and he closed his eyes, scanning his brain for a solution to what should be the least of his worries in an office surrounded by expired bills and accounts that made zero sense. ‘What’s one more thing to worry about, right?’ He breathed out a laugh.

He heard a knock from the slightly opened door and turned to see Marcus staring down at him.

“Yo, chef?”

“Yo” He answered back.

“We’re all done with housekeeping’. Some of us are gonna go grab drinks and we wanna know if you wanna hang.” He stayed silent for a second. “You kinda look like you had a shitty day.” He sniggered.

He could always trust Marcus to tell the truth.

Carmy suppressed a laugh and leaned into his desk, taking a pen in his hand and playing with it. “Nah, thanks chef. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff here. You have fun though.”

Marcus nodded slowly, looking around the desk until his eyes landed on the bag of fabric laying on the ground. “Bet.” He said then smiled slowly. “She’s gonna be there. Jus’ so y’know.” And with a pat on the doorframe, he signaled his exit.

He leaned against his chair again and stared at the space Marcus had stood in, contemplating his options. If he went, there was a high possibility you didn’t wanna see him. But this could also be his only chance to get things cleared out and maybe convince you to not quit because of his actions. Granted, a bar was not the place to talk and definitely not his scene, but if that’s what he had to do to convince you to stay then so be it. He took a couple calming breaths to ease his heart at the idea of possibly even telling you how he felt, if you were gonna leave, might as well take the info with you, right? It’s not rejection if you were already gonna split.

“Fuck it.” He threw the pen at the mess of papers and the old chair creaked as he stood forcefully, then pulled his jacket from the back along with his keys from their hook by the entrance and followed the rowdy chanting of his youngest employees walking in a line out the busted back door and into the night.

Chapter 3.

#carmen berzatto x reader #the bear & the fox #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy smut #the bear tv #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy x poc reader

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hollandorks · 1 year

Text

in flames

battisnon! bruce wayne x CEO! vigilante! reader

summary: The reader encounters the Batman when stealing information from a murdered man one night. The next day at a meeting to merge her business with Wayne Enterprises, she meets Bruce Wayne for the first time--and he has a cut on his face exactly like the one she gave the Batman. When sparks fly, will they go down in flames?

a/n: look it's me back with another "oneshot" in which I'm too long winded! This one's smutty and full of banter--enjoy! (and yes I do have to use this gif whenever there's something sexy in the content oops)

***not affiliated with middle of the night***

*content is NSFW. 18+*

word count: 10,497

The window opened with barely a creak. Y/n slipped through carefully, quietly, every one of her senses on high alert.

Getting caught at an active crime scene would be a terrible look for her company, to say the least. Especially the night before a huge meeting about a potential merger.

But that part of her that had always existed–the part that fought against injustice, no matter how big or small, the part that used her position in life for good–wouldn’t let this rest.

A man had been murdered, after all.

A man who was a murderer himself. A man who hurt people, repeatedly, for his own gain.

She left the window open the barest crack in case she needed to make a quick getaway, but still closed enough that it didn’t look like it had been tampered with. She’d learned that lesson the hard way over the years she’d been doing this.

She waited a beat in the silence of the night to make sure nothing was stirring.

The penthouse apartment was utterly quiet.

She knew from a couple of hours of observation that there was only one cop posted outside the apartment door and another in the lobby. She guessed they hadn’t expected anyone to come in from the roof. And hadn’t that been how the Riddler had gotten in to kill the mayor the year before? GCPD were never going to learn.

Y/n bit back a sigh. A year, and things in Gotham were still shit.

Well, she was working on that. Not only did she shore up charitable donations in the city, but she also had taken notes from the Batman and decided to take matters into her own hands–in secret of course. She did good work with her money and her company by day, and a different sort of work by night in disguise.

While she didn’t have the gadgets or physical strength like Batman did, she had her own set of skills. Namely, plenty of friends in places both low and high, willing to help her out because they all owed her favors. She dealt in secrets, and secrets were what led to real change in the city.

Not violence. Not death. Not even good, old-fashioned police work.

Secrets from the right person leveraged in the right way wrought change with little effort.

And secrets were what she was currently after.

The man who’d been murdered–a former city councilman who had just announced his run for Senate and his plan to eventually run for president–was scum just like all the powerful people the Riddler had murdered a year before.

Y/n didn’t condone murder, but she did believe in bringing the darkness into the light. That part of the Riddler’s manifesto, at least, she could get behind. As fucking crazy as the guy was, she really couldn’t blame him for wanting to correct some of the shitstorm that was the city of Gotham. His methods had been all wrong, though. She didn’t hurt anybody. She merely told the truth about them.

It was pure chance that her target had been murdered. There had been a string of robberies in the upper class neighborhood–and this time, the apartment hadn’t been empty as expected. The thieves had killed him in their surprise. It had always been her plan to rob the man, just not his valuables. She was after his secrets so she could expose him and ruin his political career.

Now one man was dead and the thief turned murderer was in a jail cell. The city was lauding one and villainizing the other. But they didn’t know what she knew, what she was seeking to reveal to the city at large.

Y/n knew the truth. Not only was the Senate campaign paid for with all kinds of dirty money, but that money had also been stolen from all kinds of charities–several of which y/n was directly involved with and one she had started herself.

Even if she hadn’t been involved in the aforementioned charities, her blood would have curdled at every other secret this former councilman had hidden. The skeletons in his closet were overflowing, all clambering over each other, multiplying the more she dug.

And apparently, the man was old fashioned and had several paper copies of his nefarious dealings hidden in a personal safe. The police had checked the other safe, the one the thief had been trying to get into when he shot the former councilman. All along there had been another, smaller, much more important safe underneath the man’s desk.

It was this safe y/n aimed for.

She bent underneath the desk and got to work picking the lock.

It took nearly ten minutes, not her best work, but finally the damn thing opened with a soft click. Sadly, her informant hadn’t known the code, but y/n was adept at safe cracking and lock picking.

Every hair on the back of her neck rose.

It was instinct born of her nightly activities, or it was the soft movement of air as someone snuck through the apartment, or maybe it was the barest sound of a shoe against the hardwood. Somehow, she very suddenly knew she wasn’t alone.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She whirled and threw one of the many knives on her at the person sneaking up behind her. The aim was to scare, not to kill. In the same moment, she grabbed everything from the hidden safe and tucked it under her arm.

The knife nicked the side of the Batman’s jaw as he easily stepped out of the way.

Shit, she thought, because she had expected another thief or maybe a cop. And he was close, closer than she’d expected.

She hadn’t expected Gotham’s favorite vigilante to be right behind.

The Batman didn’t hesitate either. He darted forward so fast she barely saw more than a blur of shadow. With a curse out loud this time, she dodged, hip banging painfully against the corner of the desk as she moved out of the way.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she said in a low voice.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” the masked man said. They were both keeping as quiet as possible. She didn’t think either of them would want the cop outside knowing someone had broken into the apartment.

He lunged. She ducked under his arm and kicked at the back of his knee. He grunted but didn’t go down. She frowned but had no time to alter course before his hand grabbed her upper arm and yanked. All of the papers she’d taken scattered across the floor.

Y/n chopped at his elbow, hand stinging as it connected to whatever his armor was made out of.

“Ow,” she muttered as she tried to release herself from his tight grip. Damn, he was strong. She aimed a kick towards his balls but his free hand caught her ankle. Now he had her arm and her leg. She bared her teeth at him and forced herself closer to take him off guard. He wasn’t easily fooled, though, and only held her tighter.

“I’m not stealing, you fucker,” she hissed. Her chest pressed up against the hard planes of armor. Batman stared down at her, eyes almost blank underneath the mask. He was taller and broader than her, and showed no signs of his grip lessening.

“Then why did you take papers out of that safe?” he asked in a gravelly baritone that made her shiver. She hadn’t realized that the Batman was…kind of hot.

“Take a look at them and you’ll see why.” She wriggled again but he didn’t let go.

He stared down at her for a long moment. Finally, he moved enough to bend over and gather up the papers with one hand. His other hand still had her by the wrist.

“I’m not going to run,” she said with an annoyed sigh. “I’m doing what you do–fixing corruption.”

The vigilante straightened and glanced at the topmost paper in his hand. He frowned.

“Is this all true?”

She craned her neck to see what, exactly, he was looking at.

“Yes, it’s all true.” She gave up trying to get out of his hold. He was too strong, too fast. “That’s all I was after. I have a contact at GC1 news I was going to send it to. Make it public that this guy was a piece of shit who’s better off dead.”

Batman simply stared at her. The cut across his jaw was shallow but bleeding steadily.

“Then why break in?” he finally asked.

“Why’d you break in?” she countered. His grip loosened slightly. She silently began to count down. She didn’t want this asshole taking her hard-earned information to the police or anyone else. She wanted it public and she needed the papers in his gloved hands in order to do so.

“I’m investigating,” he said with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “And catching thieves.”

“I’m not a thief!”

She used his distraction to yank her hand back, grab the papers, and dart away.

Batman caught her by the suit at the scruff of her neck.

Rage welled up inside y/n and she struck out with her leg. In the same movement she twisted to face him. Her foot connected with his chest. He barely moved. He didn’t make a sound, either, as if she was simply an insect bothering him.

“If you’re not a thief,” he said while blocking the blow from her fist. She kept backing up towards the window she’d left cracked, even as they exchanged a flurry of blows. “Then why did you break in? Why did you throw a knife?”

She almost winced. “You snuck up on me, okay? You were closer than I thought. I wasn’t aiming to hit you.”

“But you were aiming to steal.” Again, he caught her by the ankle as she tried to kick him. She growled as she was forced to hop on her other foot to remain balanced.

“Yes, we went over this. Nothing else nefarious is going on.” She crossed her heart with her free hand for emphasis.

Quicker than she thought possible, the Batman released her foot. It knocked her off balance and she stumbled.

He pulled off her mask.

Her heart stopped. She froze, panting heavily from their little bit of sparring, and stared at him in fear.

“Don’t–” she said, but no other words would come.

“I’m keeping this,” he said as he held up the mask. “Do what you want with those papers. Then stop breaking into places.”

He had her mask. He was looking her dead in the eyes. She might not have been easily recognizable like other wealthy CEOs in Gotham, but if her merger with Wayne Enterprises went through the next day…her picture would be everywhere. And then he’d know who she was.

She half-snarled and darted towards her mask. The Batman easily kept it out of her reach.

“Give it back!” she said in a voice that was much too loud.

They both froze as the apartment door clicked–a key in the lock.

Shit, the cop was coming to check on them.

She and the Batman exchanged a glance.

Her mind tripped over itself trying to get past her fight, flight, or freeze instincts all warring for attention. She needed her mask, but if she got caught…it was over.

Fuck it, she had to leave the mask.

“Fucker,” she mumbled to the other vigilante as she fled for the window. He didn’t stop her.

As she closed it behind her, she chanced a glance in the window. The Batman was gone. A cop was walking through, shining his flashlight over every shadow.

Y/n stared for a beat longer.

Then she scrambled up to the roof to grab her things and run like hell.

First she had information to leak to the press. Then she had a board meeting to prepare for. At least she had the files now.

She could get revenge against that asshole vigilante some other time.

–

Y/n dressed carefully for her meeting the next morning. It never hurt to dress to impress, she reasoned. She needed to look strong, capable, but not dowdy. Men were simple creatures and she figured Bruce Wayne was no different. If she could impress him, the merger would go through.

Her pantsuit was simple and black, tailored to perfectly accent her body. Underneath she wore a red silk shirt–red for power, red for purpose. Red to match her favorite lipstick.

The news played in the background as she finished her makeup and hair. The information she’d given the news was already everywhere. She tried not to feel too smug, but it was hard. She’d taken that bastard’s reputation down, sent it to hell where it and he belonged. And now investigations were starting–investigations that would hopefully help the people he wronged. That would give money back to the charities and families he had stolen from.

She was so focused on her triumph that she didn’t have time to be angry at the asshole vigilante who’d stolen her mask. She could get another one made–but it would take a while. It was custom made, bulletproof and made to perfectly fit her face. Maybe this time she’d request it hook to her suit, too, that way it wouldn’t be so easy to steal next time.

She and her team were the first ones in the boardroom at Wayne Enterprises. They were early, but only by a few minutes. She shuffled her papers quietly and pulled up the current contract on her laptop. They would be discussing terms in that meeting and hopefully everyone would win. In another tab she had cost and profit projections in neat little graphs.

Merging with Wayne Enterprises was going to change her life. Her business would thrive even more, have more reach, be able to give more to charity. She knew Bruce Wayne liked charitable giving–his parents had been philanthropists and he had started a relief. She had made sure to include all this in her pros and cons list that she’d emailed the Wayne CEO at the beginning of the merger talks.

“Good morning,” said a member of the Wayne Enterprises board from the doorway. She and her team stood and started shaking hands.

Bruce Wayne was the last one in the door. He didn’t shake anyone’s hand, merely went to the opposite end of the conference table from y/n.

As they all sat, Bruce Wayne looked up and met her gaze.

They both startled.

Recognition flitted across his face before he could hide it.

Her own mouth parted in shock.

Bruce Wayne had a long cut across one side of his jaw. A cut that perfectly matched the one she’d given a certain vigilante the night before.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

–

“–not saying that we shouldn’t, but after all the bad luck with the Riddler last year–”

Bruce Wayne interrupted y/n with a growl in his voice. “Bad luck? Bad luck? He’s a psychopath who murdered people and blew up half the city! It’s not–”

“You know what I meant!” she shot right back.

There had been a moment, at the beginning of the meeting, where everyone was introduced and the terms of the contract were read aloud and y/n and Bruce had simply stared at each other. The moment stretched into silence, and all she could think was, Holy fucking shit.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

It had devolved from there.

Bruce had immediately shot down several of the terms she had insisted on, which pissed her off. Her rebuttal had been appropriately angry, which had pissed him off. Every beat of her heart had her more and more worried he’d reveal her identity and she’d be fired on the spot.

After half an hour, they’d argued about several things, and she finally started to stop worrying about him outing her.

That didn’t mean he didn’t piss her off with every word out of his mouth.

Now, here they were, half-shouting at each other from across the long table, both of them the only ones standing. Bruce had his hands flat on the table as he shot daggers at her with his eyes and his words. She stood with a hand on her hip, just as angry as she was.

The worst part was, they’d been using an intermediary to even draft the contract they were there to discuss. And now he suddenly had a bunch of issues with it? It was in his fucking favor.

There was a soft clearing of a throat that shut them both up mid bickering.

“I think we should table this for the day,” said the intermediary. She was pretty sure he wasn’t there to act as a literal mediator. “We can reconvene at the same time tomorrow. Why don’t we have both sides draw up new proposals in the meantime.”

Everyone was staring at them, at their behavior, and it only served to piss her off more.

“Well I’m okay with getting this finished today,” y/n said petulantly. She glared at Bruce Wayne.

“Let’s table it,” he said as he glared right back. She had a feeling that he was only saying that to disagree with her, not because he actually thought it was a bad idea.

She ground her teeth together so hard she was pretty sure the whole table could hear it. “Fine, same time tomorrow.”

She was too angry to feel embarrassed at her squabbling with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises like two rival schoolchildren. Not only had this fucker taken her mask, but he also was trying to fuck her with her company too. All this work she’d put into the contract, into the merger, and he was blowing it off like it was nothing.

She stormed out of the room without another word, headed straight for the elevator, and muttered curse words under her breath the entire way. It didn’t help her feel better, but she had to blow off some of the steam rising in her somehow or she was going to burst into angry flames and take down the whole building, his apartments included.

Inside the elevator, she took a deep breath. She’d have to rewrite the entire contract, which would probably take all night. The only thing that made her feel better was that Bruce Wayne had to do the same thing if he wanted any of his terms put up for consideration.

She imagined him in his full Batman costume pouring over the contracts and snorted to herself. Of course, he probably just had someone do it for him and send it to him to review, but the mental image cheered her slightly.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, a hand caught the closing elevator doors, and in stepped Bruce Wayne.

The doors slid closed beside them.

Y/n had to bite her lip to keep from making a rude comment. There were several of them warring to get out at once.

“Mr. Wayne,” she said instead, but she let all of the built up anger and venom come through her words.

He put his hands in his suit pockets and sighed. She had to admit, even as mad as he made her, he looked damn good. He was wearing a tailored dark blue suit that made his blue eyes pop. His long, dark hair was tousled as if he’d woken up right before coming to the meeting. He was tall, his shoulders broad, and his damn jawline was so sharp it looked like it had cut itself with the damage her knife had inflicted. And the cut along the jaw just made it worse–he looked mysterious, handsome, like he was full of secrets waiting to be discovered. Which, she guessed, he was.

He stared down at her, back ramrod straight, and seemed to grow in the small space. He reached a hand out and without looking hit a button that made the elevator stop.

She simply waited. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

Bruce leaned in very close–close enough that she could smell whatever fresh scent of shampoo or deodorant he used. It was a masculine scent that made her pulse jump as he got close enough for her to feel his breath.

“If you tell anyone,” he said in a voice that definitely dredged up all sorts of images of darkness and shadows and bat wings. It also made her think of silk sheets and shadowy beds.

Feeling bold, y/n stepped closer. Their chests brushed now. “Is this a threat, Mr. Wayne?”

Something flashed in his eyes and her traitorous body decided to get really, really turned on. His jaw clenched so tightly she expected to hear an audible snap. She could practically see his internal struggle not to be an asshole and it made her want to laugh. It was almost too easy to rile him up.

He took a step back, expression suddenly vulnerable. “It would be…very bad for me, and those close to me…if you told anyone. So, please. Just don’t–please.”

She softened a little. She hadn’t expected the please. “Hey, I’ve got a big secret too, remember? I won’t tell.” He gave a single sharp nod. “I want my mask back,” she added.

“No,” he said as he leaned against the elevator wall. She could see their reflections in the shiny metallic ceiling. He was a blur of dark blue, she a pop of red. Opposites, of course.

“Why the fuck not?” she asked. She crossed her arms again. The softness she’d felt towards him was completely gone just like that.

Bruce straightened and got into her space again. Granted, it might not have been on purpose since he was so tall and the elevator was small. He lowered his voice, eyes flickering to her red lips, and said, “To keep you out of trouble.”

Y/n had no excuse for what happened next. As if possessed, she matched his step forward and let her hand slide up his chest to his shoulder. He swallowed hard, seemingly nervous.

“I can get into all kinds of trouble without the mask,” she murmured. Her eyes traced his lips this time.

And maybe it was because he was handsome and he was there. Maybe it was because they shared so many similarities. Or maybe she wanted to one up him somehow, and knew this would do the trick.

No matter the reason, y/n stretched up and captured Bruce Wayne’s mouth with her own.

He froze for a second, going unnaturally still, before he seemed to shake it off.

She couldn’t help the small groan that escaped when his tongue traced her bottom lip or the one that slipped out when he grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. One of her hands slipped inside his suit jacket while the other tangled in his hair. He groaned this time, and it went straight through her like a meteor, lighting her on fire as it went.

Her back bumped against the cold elevator wall, the railing digging into her, and she let herself be lifted so her ass sat on top of it. It was barely big enough to balance on, but provided enough leverage for Bruce to slide between her legs. She could feel his arousal press against her, right where she wanted him, and she couldn’t help the small shift of her hips.

Bruce grabbed her tighter.

She bit his lower lip and grinned when he jerked back.

“That was for being a jerk earlier,” she said.

He stared down at her. His dark hair was mussed. The blackness of his pupils had almost overtaken the bright blue.

Y/n lifted her hips to grind against him. His breath shook, eyelids fluttering closed. He felt so good against her like this, warm and strong and solid.

But then he let go and stepped away from her. He straightened his suit and wiped her lipstick off of his own mouth.

“Was it something I said?” she asked, teasing to cover up the hurt that was stinging through her like small thorns.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. He jabbed the same button from earlier and the elevator lurched into motion once more.

She frowned at him. He didn’t bother looking at her. “So you’re going to leave me and my business high and dry?”

No answer. She scoffed. “And here I thought you were different from the typical rich man.”

His shoulders stiffened but he still didn’t say a word. Above their heads, the elevator counted down as they slowly got closer and closer to the ground floor.

“Don’t you live in the penthouse?” she asked with another frown, distracted from her annoyance by the descending numbers.

“Yes,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.

“Then let’s go up there so you can give me my damn mask back.”

The elevator dinged as they reached the lobby.

“No,” he said over his shoulder as he stepped out.

She watched him stride away on impossibly long legs.

“Fuck,” she said, half annoyed with him, half with herself. She wanted to chase after him and slap some sense into him. Or chase after him and kiss him again. Her whole body tingled from the adrenaline of their meeting followed by quite possibly the best kiss she’d ever had.

And he still wouldn’t give her damn mask back.

With another soft growl of frustration, she stepped out of the elevator. She had no choice but to head home and start working on the damn contract. That, and she had to order a replacement mask. Hopefully her supplier still had her measurements on file.

–

The next morning, y/n decided to do something stupid.

She left two hours early for their makeup merger meeting and stopped at the reception desk with her most winning smile.

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “They messed up my order this morning so I have an extra latte. Do you want it?”

“Oh–Yeah, sure, thanks. I was running late this morning so I haven’t had time to get coffee,” the young girl said. She took the proffered coffee and inhaled deeply with a soft sound of appreciation. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it was free.” She smiled again. It definitely hadn’t been free and was, in fact, part of her stupid plan. “I’m just heading up to see Mr. Wayne. He forgot to give me the code to get up there. I don’t think he’s awake yet.” She winked and laughed. “We’re going over this merger contract some more before we bring all the big boys in on it.”

She waved a file folder in the air. It was a copy of her amended contract, to be fair. And she did want to talk to Bruce about it. But she also wanted to maybe snoop around and get her mask back and maybe also find out where he hid his Batman armor.

“Sure, no problem,” the receptionist said cheerfully. She scribbled a note with one hand and sipped her coffee with the other. Y/n relaxed. She thought for sure she’d be told a very firm no. She’d imagined Bruce being summoned from the top of the tower to come curse her out in front of all of his employees. She supposed being a CEO in her own right made it easier to get into a forbidden space. Hell, this girl probably thought she and Bruce were going to go over the contract naked.

And wasn’t that an idea.

Y/n thanked the girl and practically skipped to the private elevator she was directed to. It gave her no small amount of joy to get one up on Bruce again. She spent the whole long ride up to the penthouse smiling as she imagined the look on his face when she interrupted his breakfast.

She knew it was stupid–really, she did. The merger was tentative now because of their show in the boardroom and she was sure their kiss hadn’t helped matters at all.

She didn’t stop and question why she was doing this or what she hoped to get out of it. Mostly she wanted to bother Bruce, get her mask back, and maybe, hopefully iron out some of the kinks in the merger plan. She had a feeling they would both be better without an audience.

The elevator made no noise as it slid to a stop and opened its doors.

Y/n stopped in her tracks.

Wayne Tower’s penthouse was…like the inside of a gothic church. The ceilings were tall and sweeping, full of detailed arches, sculptures, and well, a lot of dust.

“Hello,” said a soft, accented voice. She turned and saw an aging man with a cane, his salt and pepper hair styled perfectly neat, his clothes pressed and clean. “Is Mr. Wayne…expecting you?”

She didn’t miss the way his hand strayed to his side and the telltale bulge underneath his shirt. He was armed. His expression was polite, kind even, but there was a glint in his eyes that said he meant business.

She held up her trusty file folder. “I came to go over some stuff about the merger. I’m y/n. I don’t know if he told you about uh…our argument in the meeting yesterday, so I’m here to apologize and smooth things over.” She shrugged as if sheepish.

“The day you apologize is the day my father becomes mayor,” said a familiar voice.

She turned, and there was Bruce. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and nothing else, running a towel over his damp hair. She hated that her entire body reacted to the sight of him shirtless. He was muscular. Scarred, too, but it made sense with his nightly activities.

Her mouth was too dry to talk. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Well, you better get out the confetti because I really am here to say I’m sorry.” Okay, maybe it hadn’t actually been part of her plan but…she could say two little words in exchange for saving the merger.

Bruce and the older man exchanged a look. Bruce made a dismissive wave. The man nodded once and disappeared down a hallway.

They stared at each other in silence. Bruce slung the towel over one bare shoulder. She tried not to stare, she really did, but it was next to impossible. God, did he have to be so fucking good looking on top of everything else?

“How’d you get in here?” Bruce finally asked. He crossed his arms, which only served to show off his biceps and pectorals.

Stop staring! y/n mentally shouted at herself. She tore her eyes away and met his gaze.

“I flirted with the receptionist,” she said. She was rewarded with Bruce’s shock. He opened and then abruptly closed his mouth before he schooled his expression.

“Poor Stella,” he said after a beat.

She couldn’t help her laugh. “I bought her coffee and told her the truth. I came to talk about the contract. And…okay, maybe I wasn’t going to apologize, but I did intend to smooth things over. That counts for something, right?”

Bruce’s lips compressed like he was trying not to smile. “I should have let Alfred shoot you.”

She let out a startled laugh. “I did sneak into your home, so…”

“Well, come on then,” Bruce said, gesturing for her to follow him.

“Where are we going?” she asked uncertainly.

“We’re going to have breakfast and go over the damn contract.”

“And you’re going to give in to all of my demands and grovel at my feet, right?” she said to his unfairly muscled back.

He turned his head just enough that she could see his arched eyebrow.

“Hey, it was worth a shot.”

Breakfast went well, at first. She and Bruce joked together like they were old friends as they ate. He told her about the time he’d snuck out on break from college and had tried to sneak back in, only for Alfred to catch him and threaten to shoot him.

Then the talk shifted to business, and they started arguing all over again. She shouldn’t have brought up the controversial Renewal Fund, she knew that, but it had been an accident. An accident that pissed Bruce off, apparently.

“I’m just saying that we should have more checks and balances,” she said through gritted teeth as Alfred cleared their plates. He was Bruce’s butler, apparently, though he seemed more like an uncle or something.

“I don’t disagree,” Bruce said. He rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb.

“You are literally disagreeing!” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

“Not about that!”

“Then what? That the Renewal Fund wasn’t used to fund the corrupt? That it wasn’t an absolute shit show?” She tapped her pointer finger on the table with every other word.

Bruce stared at her. “All of that is true.”

“You are so–” She made a frustrated noise. “So fucking annoying!”

“If you would listen to me for a moment, maybe you wouldn’t get so frustrated.” He glared at her between his fingers as he continued rubbing at what was apparently a massive headache caused by her.

“I am listening! I don’t–I mean, come on, you run around dressed as a bat every night to try and make a goddamn difference in the city. And now suddenly your morals change?” She smacked her hand against the wood table so hard it hurt. “Of course I’m frustrated.”

Bruce’s gaze went flat. “That has no bearing on what I do in my company,” he finally said after a long pause.

She inhaled deeply. “Shouldn’t it, though?”

“What are you saying?” Both of his palms were pressed flat on the table. Every line of him was rigid as if he were about to snap.

“Jesus, if you’d chill for a second,” she muttered, then straightened. “I’m saying that my company is charitable. That’s one of our core values. We hire the underprivileged, we give back to the community, we work to build up Gotham brick by brick. And what does Wayne Enterprises do? Give to charity once or twice a year? Sometimes help with relief funds where there’s a flood caused by a psychopath?”

“You’re saying you don’t think this will work because I’m not charitable enough?” Disbelief colored his tone even though his face remained carefully neutral. His nostrils flared though as he breathed in deep and let it out, the only sign she was truly getting under his skin. “Because I shut down the Renewal Fund?”

“I know what you do every night. I commend it. It’s–actually pretty fucking amazing. But that’s only one thing. Bruce Wayne, CEO, can do…so much more in the light of day. Why do you think I do both, too? So all I’m saying is, maybe if we join forces….we can really make a change. At night and during the day. You understand?”

Bruce stood abruptly and started pacing. “You shouldn’t be doing that kind of stuff.”

“Neither should you,” she said dryly. “And that’s not stopping you.”

Bruce paused in his pacing. He opened his mouth but she interrupted, her annoyance rising all over again.

“I swear if you say it’s different for you, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll forget your name.”

He closed his mouth again.

“Seriously,” she said. She stood to better face him. “You’ve got some kind of weird savior complex going on and it’s getting on my nerves.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Savior complex?”

“Yes!” She resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a child.

“And you’re qualified to comment on this after–” He pretended to check a watch he wasn’t wearing. “Only knowing me for about thirty-two hours?”

“You’re not as much of a mystery as you like to think, Mr. Wayne. You run around every night and yes, you do plenty for the city. But you think you have to do it alone. I don’t know if it’s because you think you’re better than anyone else or what, but newsflash–other people want to help Gotham too.” She crossed her arms again and stared him down. His eyes narrowed. “Other people can help Gotham.”

“It’s dangerous,” he finally said after a long minute of glaring at each other.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she said. She couldn’t help the roll of her eyes that went along with the words. “I’m not hurting anyone. Hell, I usually wait until places are empty to steal information. That’s what I deal with–secrets and information. I’m barely in danger.”

“How do I know you won’t steal information from me?”

She grit her teeth. “Are you doing anything illegal? Other than, you know, being a vigilante, I mean. I don’t care about that.”

“No.” His jaw flexed and he looked away.

“Then what the fuck is your problem?” She’d been doing so well at squashing the annoyance that kept rising within her. “Are you just trying to be an asshole? You lose nothing with this merger, don’t you get that? All I’m asking is for you to use your fucking money for good. You know, I bet your dad would be so disappointed that–”

“Get out.” The words were a growl. All at once something in him shifted and she saw a shadow of a cape and mask. Something in him was all predator now.

She hesitated. She hadn’t meant to actually piss him off. “Bruce–”

“Get. Out.” He pointed a single, threatening finger. He seemed to loom even larger, his body taking up twice the amount of space with its anger.

“I just meant that–”

He took a step forward and damn it if she didn’t feel a small jolt of fear. She scrambled to grab her stuff.

“The meeting is canceled,” he said in a calmer voice. “Now get out.”

“You’re canceling?” She paused in the process of gathering her things. “No way. I’m going to talk to your board about canceling the merger, I–”

“Not the merger, just the meeting.” Without another word, Bruce turned and left. She imagined a shadow following him, a physical manifestation of his anger. Somewhere, a door slammed.

Grinding her teeth, y/n grabbed all of her stuff and stomped back to the elevator. “Stupid, stubborn, asshole of a man,” she muttered the whole way. Sure, maybe she shouldn’t have brought up his dad. But she had a point and he knew it. That was why he was so pissed off.

And canceling their meeting? What a dick.

She stopped before hitting the button that would take her to the lobby.

“You know what?” she said out loud. “I’m just going to wait.” She glanced around at the imitation of a spooky castle. “Hear that?” she shouted. “I’m not fucking leaving until you see sense!”

Her voice echoed around the space. She half-expected a hoard of bats to take off from the rafters far above. She bit back an almost hysterical laugh. Maybe there were bats hiding up there. That’s probably where he got the idea from.

She leaned back against the wall next to the elevator.

“Am I going to have to have you arrested for trespassing?”

Y/n jumped. Standing in the entrance to a hallway on her left was Alfred, the butler or…whatever he was. Security. Uncle. Bruce hadn’t ever actually clarified that point.

“Oh–Uh–” It was one thing to try to get back at Bruce. Alfred, frankly, intimidated her. And he seemed nice, unlike Bruce, which made her loathe to get on his nerves. “I was just–”

“I take it the meeting didn’t go so well?” he said, letting her off the hook.

She relaxed slightly. “Oh, it went perfectly. We yelled at each other for half an hour, debated the morality of vigilantes, and then when I accidentally brought up his dad, he kicked me out.”

Alfred’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his hair. “Oh?” he said.

Right. She probably wasn’t supposed to know that Bruce was Batman. “I uh…we actually met the night before last,” she said. “He stole my mask.”

She was impressed that he didn’t show any emotion. “Did he?”

“And I cut his face. It was an accident, but at yesterday’s meeting I noticed and…well. You probably know what I noticed.”

Alfred hummed and relaxed his posture. “You didn’t tell anyone?”

“Like I said, he stole my mask. I don’t give a shit what he does.” She shrugged. It was the truth. “All I want is for this merger to not only benefit our companies, but Gotham too. And for some reason the guy who runs around at all hours of the night protecting the city is suddenly waffling about using some of his buckets of cash to do some fucking good.”

Alfred did the last thing she expected. He laughed. “Oh, I like you. Come on.” He waved her over and went to, of all things, another elevator.

“Where are we going?” she asked, wondering if maybe there was a dungeon beneath this place that Alfred was tricking her into. “And why does this goddamn tower have so many elevators?”

Alfred put in a code and stepped inside an elevator that was a lot…grungier than the others she’d been in inside of Wayne Tower. He pressed his thumb to a keypad and entered another code. He then hit a button labeled only B before the thing started to lower. Basement, maybe?

“This one is only for Bruce and I.”

“Are you taking me to the dungeon?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alfred chuckled. “You’ll see.”

“So that’s all it takes to get into Bruce Wayne’s inner sanctum, huh?” She leaned against the side of the elevator. “Sneak into the penthouse, pick a fight, and reveal that I know his deepest secret to his…uncle?”

“Butler,” Alfred said. He shifted grip on his cane. “And Bruce needs someone to pick a fight with him.”

“I really feel like you’re about to lock me in a dungeon.”

The elevator jerked to a stop. There was a gate across the opening that rattled as it parted.

Alfred gestured for y/n to step out, so she did. She was surprised to see Alfred was staying inside. He winked at her and was gone as the elevator ascended again.

“Is she gone?” Bruce’s voice echoed around her and a chittering noise started in its wake.

The space around her was…dark. She was standing on a platform with steps in front of her that led down to a wide open space. The edges of the area were in deep shadow and everything echoed strangely. Her eyes lifted to the dark ceiling and–holy shit, those were bats.

Her gaze landed next on two words carved into the stone overhand: Wayne Station.

“No, actually, she’s not,” y/n said as she followed the stairs down to where Bruce was. He had a shirt on now, at least. He was standing at a desk with several computer screens, hunched over as he scribbled something down. All around them were tables, computers, various tools, random pieces of Batman’s suit, two motorcycles, and a car on a ramp with one of those cloth covers over it.

Bruce whirled at the sound of her voice. “What–”

“Alfred let me in,” she said with a triumphant grin. The pen in Bruce’s hand cracked from the force of his grip.

Bruce growled and turned back to what he was doing, unceremoniously flinging his pen to the side. “Alfred,” he muttered as if it were a curse.

“He said you need someone to pick a fight with you. All I did was tell him I knew your secret and poof, here we are.” She greedily took in the space around her. It was so interesting. She had a feeling she was seeing a manifestation of Bruce’s mind. There were blueprints, all kinds of gadgets in various stages of completion, and a dummy dressed in his Batman armor and mask.

“He–” Bruce muttered something else she didn’t catch.

“Listen, I can pick a fight if you want, or you can show me all of this cool stuff.” There was almost a giddiness rising within her. He had so many cool gadgets, things she’d never dreamed of having. No wonder he was such a good vigilante.

Bruce glared at her for a moment before turning back to whatever it was he was doing. It looked like he was making notes on a blueprint of some sort. The drawing looked like a car. Kind of. “It isn’t stuff,” she thought she heard him mumble, but she wasn’t sure.

“Ooh, okay, fine. Let’s pick another fight. Will you get pissed off if I start moving stuff around?” It was too easy to tease him, she thought as she reached out and lifted something that looked an awful lot like a grenade. Her fingers had barely wrapped around it when Bruce’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

“Put that down.”

She grinned at him and obliged. “That’s a yes, then. What if I touch this?” she asked as she picked up something that looked like the armbands he wore on his wrists. It was a lot heavier than she expected. Goddamn, he wore those things every night? Her wrist felt like it was about to break just from holding it.

He snatched it from her.

A small laugh escaped her lips. “You’re too easy a target.” She reached blindly for something else.

He caught both of her wrists in his hands this time. “Stop doing that.”

“Who pissed in your wheaties this morning, huh?” she asked as he yanked her away from the tempting pile of stuff.

“You did,” he said. He still hadn’t let her go.

“Listen,” she said after a beat. “I didn’t mean to–bring up anything by mentioning your dad, okay? I was frustrated.”

“Understatement of the year,” he muttered. He glanced away but didn’t let her go.

“I’m going to let that one slide because I really am sorry.” She shrugged as best as she could from within his grip. Her eyes trailed past him, over his shoulder, and she jerked. “Hey! That’s my fucking mask!”

She yanked hard against him but he didn’t let her go.

“I told you, you’re not getting it back,” he said firmly. He was scowling down at her.

“You fucker,” she said. “I already ordered a new one, anyways. Made some improvements.”

He sighed long and loud through his nose, eyes closed as if he were trying to find inner peace or something.

“Will you let me go?” she asked.

“Will you stop touching stuff?” he asked, eyes opening. She didn’t miss the way his pupils expanded as he continued to stare at her.

“That depends,” she said with a bold step forward. “Is there anything I am allowed to touch?” She said it so seductively that there wasn’t a question about her meaning. She let her chest brush against his.

Bruce said nothing but his grip loosened.

She slid one of her hands up his chest and rested it on his shoulder. “Do I really piss you off that much?” she murmured.

“Yes.”

“So you don’t like me…at all?” She pressed herself closer against him. His sweatpants did nothing to hide the fact that he at least liked her some.

“I didn’t say that.” His hands fell to her waist, his touch burning hot even through her clothes.

“Should I get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?” she asked in a low voice. Just imagining it turned her on so much her breath stuttered. Bruce’s fingers flexed against her and she felt the words go straight through him as his cock twitched against her stomach. “Or maybe you should get on your knees,” she murmured as her hand tangled in his hair. His eyes fluttered closed for a second.

“Which one will make you shut up faster?” he asked after a second. His blue eyes flashed as they opened again.

She laughed and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Sounds like you want my mouth full.”

Bruce stopped breathing for a split second. Then his lips were crashing against hers. Her back smacked against the nearest table. He was everywhere. The warmth of his body surrounded her and she again had a moment of thinking he was larger than he was. His hands strayed up her shirt, the calluses on his bare palms dragging a shiver from her as they scraped across her skin.

This time he bit her lower lip and the mixture of pleasure and pain had a soft noise escaping from her before she could stop it.

“You’re so infuriating,” he said against her lips. “You drive me crazy.”

“Right back at you,” she said and kissed him again.

“I mean it,” he said as his nose traced her jaw. He pressed a kiss against her pulse. She was certain he could feel the way it suddenly jumped. “I have never been so aggravated by a person before.” He kissed down her neck and sighed into her skin. “And I’ve never wanted someone so much.”

“Then do something about it,” she said with a challenge in her voice. It didn’t come out as strong as she’d hoped though, because his lips were distracting her, and one of his thumbs had chosen that moment to brush the underside of her breast through her bra.

In one swift movement he had rid her of her shirt. His eyes were hungry as they took her in. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Finally, a compliment,” she said but the words choked off as his lips touched the top of one breast and then the other.

“One of us has to be nice,” he said, and the way his breath brushed against her skin made her shiver. He glanced up at her through his dark, dark lashes.

“I can be nice,” she said defensively. What she really wanted to do was demand that he touch her already, but that would defeat the purpose of her comment about being nice.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”

She pulled him back to his full height and settled on her knees before him. And bless him, he had some sort of cushioned mats underneath the tables so she wasn’t on hard concrete. Her hands settled on the backs of his thighs as she leaned back enough to stare up at him.

“I can be very nice,” she said as she tugged his sweatpants down.

His breath and hers both caught when his cock sprang free. Her mouth practically watered at the sight. His hand caressed the back of her head encouragingly but he made no move to force her forward. He simply watched, and waited.

She licked the underside of him slowly. Her reward was a choked noise. His hand tightened spasmodically on her head but again, he didn’t force her forward.

She licked him again, experimental this time, letting her mouth very slowly explore him, moistening him so when she decided to, her lips would slide right over him.

She took the head of him in her mouth first and swirled her tongue. This time he moaned out her name. The sound of it made her squeeze her thighs together. Her want was a living, breathing thing within her. She didn’t want to tease anymore. She took him into her mouth fully, swallowing him as deep as she could.

The sound Bruce made was desperate. It echoed around them and only served to make her hungry for more. She was doing that to him. She was making him feel that good.

Her head bobbed, his hand a gentle guide on the back of it, the noises he was making becoming more frequent the more she moved. His body trembled. She wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing, either.

All of a sudden her mouth was empty as he jerked away from her. It was instinct to follow but he tugged gently on her hair to stop her.

“My turn to be nice,” he said, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her upwards and kissed her so hard it left her breathless. He palmed one of her breasts with one hand and her ass with the other. Then her bra was falling off and to the floor.

“You?” she said on half a gasp. “Nice?”

He grinned at her. “I can be very nice.”

He unzipped her skirt. It puddled around her ankles. She kicked off her shoes and the skirt in anticipation.

“Yeah?” she said as both of his hands gripped her ass and pulled her closer. She wiggled against him, his cock against her bare stomach about to drive her wild with need and they hadn’t even done anything yet. “Prove it.”

One of his hands was between her legs before she finished speaking. He brushed a thumb against her clit through her underwear, making her squirm. He leaned down to kiss the pulse point in her neck again.

She made a noise of complaint when he stopped touching her but all he did was lift her so she was situated on the table.

“Spread your legs,” he said and her body instinctually obeyed without her permission. He pulled down her underwear. His eyes were hungry as he lowered himself to her knees. He was devouring her with his gaze. His lips parted as his tongue darted out. She knew that tongue was about to be on her and the anticipation was killing her.

“This is the part where you beg for forgiveness,” she said in a breathy voice. All of her bravado went out the window as he smirked at her and traced a finger through the wetness between her legs.

He moved teasingly slow as he continued to trace her, staying just outside where she wanted him, every other pass stopping to circle her clit. He kissed the inside of one thigh and then the other. Then he paused, staring up at her with eyes like blue flames, and lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. The new position made her lean back against her hands.

She moaned at the first touch of his lips. His tongue gently traced her clit and she squirmed all over again.

“Bruce,” she said like a plea.

He listened to her unspoken demand and inserted a single finger into her so slowly she wanted to scream. His tongue worked her clit as his finger moved in and out of her. The sensation started to build and build and build. She reached out for an anchor with one hand, something, anything to keep her grounded. Her fingers threaded into Bruce’s hair. He hummed against her, eliciting a moan from her as the vibrations moved through her body.

“Fuck,” she said because there was no other word for it.

He pushed a second finger inside her. His movements started to quicken.

Her orgasm built within her as he moved faster and faster. The sensation of his tongue on her clit coupled with two of his fingers inside her was almost too much. She couldn’t catch her breath.

Bruce slid a third finger inside her and every muscle in her body clenched around him.

She shuddered as the orgasm washed over her, pleasure rolling on waves throughout her body.

When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. Somehow, that was hotter than anything he’d done up until that point. The look in his eyes, feral and hungry, made her feel more naked than her actual nakedness.

“How do you want me?” she asked, voice thick in the wake of her orgasm. Her body shuddered with an aftershock and Bruce’s piercing blue eyes didn’t miss any of it. He stood slowly, the bulk of him seeming to unfold little by little as he towered over her. He pulled his shirt off with one hand and somehow kept eye contact the whole time.

He stepped between her legs and she shivered again. The air was cold but the warmth pouring from Bruce’s magnificent body was enough to keep her from feeling it.

“How do you like it?”

God, his fucking voice. Deep and sexy and with a hint of a growl that turned her on.

How did she like it? Was he serious? She just wanted him inside her, she didn’t care where or how.

“Just fuck me,” she said when she could find her voice.

“You’re so bossy,” he said with half a smile as he bent to kiss her.

She clutched his shoulders. “I mean it, Bruce,” she said with as much bravado as she could muster. “Fuck me. I have an IUD so we have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” he asked after a second. He studied her face calmly as if she weren’t half-mad with lust. As if his cock wasn’t dripping for her, angled perfectly to go inside her.

“I don’t know how I could make my consent any clearer.” She rolled her eyes. Then she realized that maybe Bruce wasn’t sure. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said against her lips, and then pushed into her so suddenly she cried out.

She said every cuss word she knew which only served to make him laugh. The vibrations traveled between their connected bodies in a delicious way. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to him, his lips moving up her neck and to her breasts and to her lips.

“Fuck,” Bruce said as he began to move. She agreed with the sentiment. With her leaning back on the table, him between her legs, the angle was just right to immediately send shivers up and down her spine. Every thrust made her muscles clench.

The feel of his cock within her was almost transcendent. She grabbed him tightly, pressing their bodies together, keeping him close to her as he thrust in and out.

He slid a hand between them to circle her clit and she cried out as she came almost immediately. When she opened her eyes she expected to see that she had burst into flames. Bruce was staring at her again, his expression tight.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said and the words almost made her do so again.

“I bet you are too,” she said with a grin. She wrapped her legs around him so that their bodies were flush. The new angle made them both gasp. His big hands splayed across her back and her own hands tangled in his hair. He seemed to like it when she pulled, so pull she did.

“Y/n…” he said into the crook of her neck. His thrusts picked up speed. She saw stars as his cock hit her just right, over and over and over. The grip she had on his hair was a lifeline now, the only thing grounding her and keeping her from exploding into a million tiny pieces.

“Come inside me, Bruce,” she said. It wasn’t at all bossy like she’d intended it, but he groaned anyways.

He rocked into her, harder and deeper than before, the sweat on their skin making their chests slide together. His fingers deftly swept over her clit again. Her cry echoed, almost a scream, as she came for the third time.

Bruce wasn’t far behind. His thrusts stuttered, rhythm uneven, as his hips jerked into her. She could feel it spill out of her even as he continued to move.

“Fuck,” he said as his hips slowly jerked to a stop. They were both panting.

“Fuck,” she agreed. She was still clinging to him. They stayed tangled together for a minute more. Her body shivered with aftershocks every few seconds. Her mind was blissfully blank. Her limbs were warm, her body languid. She felt completely wrung out in the best way possible.

Bruce kissed her jaw. His hands rubbed idle circles against her bare back. It was…sweet. She liked it. Usually the men she fucked pulled out and yanked their clothes back on in the same movement.

“I had no idea Bruce Wayne was such a…generous lover,” she said, breath still heaving.

“Now you know all of my secrets.” He toyed with her hair, his face softer than she’d ever seen it. She let her legs fall from around his waist. He stepped back, sliding out of her, and passed her a small towel from God only knew where. “It’s clean, I promise.”

“I highly doubt I know all your secrets.” Their eyes met and they shared a smile. She cleaned herself up to the best of her ability. “I’d like to, though.”

“Oh?” he said, and there was a vulnerability in his expression that wasn’t there before.

“Feel free to say no, but I’d like to take you on a date.” She nudged him gently. She pulled her bra and underwear back on.

“I’d like that. But I should pay.” He pulled up his sweatpants but left his shirt off. She couldn’t say she minded the view.

“Oh, I only meant I was driving. You’re definitely paying.”

He laughed, long and loud, and the sound stirred something in her gut.

“Who knew that all you needed was to get laid to loosen up?” she teased as she gave him another playful nudge.

“I doubt this is what Alfred had in mind when he said I needed someone to pick a fight with,” Bruce said with another slight laugh. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

Y/n glanced around, suddenly panicked. “There aren’t security cameras in here, are there?”

Something glinted in his eyes. A playfulness, almost. “No, there aren’t.”

She squinted at him, suspicious. “If you tell me know and I find out you’re beating off to the tape every night–”

He laughed again, this one a short, surprised burst of sound. He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I promise there’s not.”

She finished straightening her hair with a soft hmph. “Fine, fine. Date’s still on then, I guess.”

Bruce leaned in and brushed a kiss to her temple. It was as if he couldn’t help it. As if the sex had softened all of his rough edges. Maybe it had softened her, too, because she couldn’t drum up an ounce of annoyance at him if she tried. In fact, she leaned into the touch.

“Seriously,” she teased as she bent to pull her shoes back on. “It’s like you’re a different person.”

“What can I say?” he said. He spread his hands. “You’re not all bad.”

“Does this mean you’ll accept all my terms with the merger?”

There was a long, long pause. “Absolutely not.”

She snorted, and they fell into what was becoming their new routine of bickering as they went upstairs to get lunch.

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kittenofdoomage · 11 months

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