Gender Neautral Reader - Tumblr Posts

Character/Scenarios Kink List

Featuring: Dom and/or Top Reader w/ Random Fandoms

Summary: A new little fun game for my followers and new comers to play with me, you can request anything from this list with the rules down below but aren’t obligated to as I will still write them regardless

Author Note: there will be some overused characters and actors because this list is of my personal favorites to write about, I change this list quite a bit according to my taste so keep that in mind

Rules for requesting are down below and the links/list are under the keep reading

Kink/character list:

Jealous Sex ft.

Thigh Riding ft. Bucky (The Winter Soldier)

Premature Ejaculation ft. Clark Kent (Superman)

Facefucking ft.

Accidental Stimulation ft. Steve Rogers

Aphrodisiac/Sex Pollen ft. Jason Todd (Redhood DC)

Discreet sex ft. Bruce Wayne

Size Difference ft.

Toys ft.

Begging ft.

Kitchen Sex ft. Tony Stark x Avengers amab!Reader

Shower Sex ft. Pietro Maximoff

Caught Masturabting ft. Bucky (The Winter Soldier)

Overstimulation ft. Geralt (The Witcher Netflix)

Praise Kink ft.

Uniform Sex ft.

Scent/Smell Kink ft.

Boss/Power Play ft. Natasha Romanoff

Hate sex ft.

Cockwarming ft.

Face Sitting ft. Marc Spector

Spit kink ft.

Breeding ft. Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Tit Job/ Pec Job ft. Diavolo (Obey Me)

Frottage ft. Jake Lockey (Moonknight)

Hero/Villain ft.

At Work Sex ft.

One Piece of Clothing ft.

Bent Over ft.

Drunk Sex ft.

Requests:

All of my existing blog rules must be followed here too, please be respectful and read these

You can add anything to it along with the kink and you may add scenarios and/or prompts even a plot,

Send me the number of your desire and a character if there isn't already one on it and I’ll write it next whether it be a headcanon or a fic

I can turn down a request, I have that right as a person

If a number is crossed out and says: currently writing, DO NOT REQUEST IT

The characters and kink will not be changed if you make a request on which one you want me to write

Alternative universe’s are welcome

I won’t do mommy/daddy/mistress/master labels, pregnant reader or character, having a child together,

I will not do cock cages or rings, pet play, monster sex, snowballing, vomit, poop, feet, pee, sneeze, vore, or gore. There will be no kink-shaming either. other than that I’m open-minded.

I will write it in a random order and you can request in a random order

You can add another character but can’t change an existing one

Be respectful of the kinks and do not shame others for theirs

I wanna cry when people do this, it’s not that I don’t like fem reader, it’s that there’s too many stories about them and they all act the same like an annoying damsel in distress which just triggers my dysphoria like no other. But writers need to stop with that shit it’s your responsibility to cater to the right audience correctly

Like and reblog if you can relate to this

GN and Male Readers after they see she/her pronouns in an X Reader story that shows no specification of the Reader's gender until the very last minute:

22. Face Sitting ft. Marc Spector x Gender Neutral Reader

Request: 22. 👀My boy Marc deserves it

Author Note: Keep in mind English is not my first language

Character Scenarios/Kink List

Warning(s)⚠: sub Marc Spector, rimming, spit, handjob, tears, spanking, and showering together

You had been asking Marc to do this with you for a while but of course, he refused every time you even mentioned it

It’s not that he didn’t want to do it, it’s that he was embarrassed to let himself look so vulnerable in front of you

you guys have had sex before and done a ton of things but this was just different for him and the thought of it terrified him

But when Marc came back from his “work,” stressed all he wanted to do was be vulnerable with you, and when you began to help him relax he finally asked you for a change

“Do you wanna.. Do that thing you been asking?” He mumbled out like it was a secret between the two of you that he was ashamed to have

“You wanna try face-sitting?” You asked surprised as he winced at the name almost like the name was the worst part of the act

“Yeah if your up for it?” He asked cautiously looking up at you u to gauge your reaction as you just smirked at him leaning down to give him a quick kiss

Soon Marc was completely nude after taking a shower and you were laying down comfortably in the middle of his bed watching as he situated himself above your face lowering himself on you

You let him take his time to get comfortable as he hovered inches before you giving you a nod signaling you, grabbing his thighs you licked the rim of his hole teasing it as he shivered

His breath hitched as you flattened your tongue and licked a stripe up his hole giving him long licks and he couldn’t help but feel pleasure from his cunt, trying to keep his composure

“Fuck that’s, really good..” he said as his chest heaved up and down feeling fire burning inside of him, you pressed the tip of your tongue in teasing his cunt as he gasped biting his lip to contain his loud noises

He slowly started to lose his composure, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white, you swirled your tongue around as he let out a loud moan his hand shot up to his mouth to try to muffle his sounds,

his whimpers seeped through as you fucked him with your tongue and he tried to move away from you pulling back from the intensity as you grabbed his hips and slammed him back down on your tongue

You spread his ass and gave him a harsh squeeze as your tongue dug deep into his hole causing him to jerk forward, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of you exploring his aching hole

The sensation left him speechless as his mouth flew open gasping and moaning your name as he rocked his hips against your mouth trying to get more friction as you ate him out

His large thighs were practically crushing your head with the sheer amount of force he was using as his mouth fell slack, you pulled away to spit on his cunt only to spread it around and lap it up all over again

His whole body was shaking and his arms shot forward to steady himself as he couldn’t stop the string moans leaving his mouth, all the stress from earlier was quickly replaced with lust as he let out loud cries for you

His legs quivered and he tried to move around and adjust himself but you held him in place and sucked on him even faster and rougher than before leaving him extremely overwhelmed as you gave his ass a harsh slap

He felt his orgasm coming near and wrapped his hand around his leaking cock, his hand moving in sync with your tongue as you began to kneed his ass giving long licks as his hole twitched

He finally came riding out his high on your face as you lapped up the juices, his whole body shook from the intensity but your movements didn’t still until his cunt was completely clean causing him to let out incoherent moans

He fell forward collapsing on top of you as you laughed at him and he tried to catch his breath gasping for air before rolling over and laying next to you as he chuckled

“I’m glad you talked me into that but we’re never doing that again,” he said sighing as you smirked at him

“We both know you’ll be begging me to do it again in a week,” you laughed out as he giggled

“I think I’m gonna have to take another shower,” he said sitting up as you nodded

“I’ll go with you I need one too,” you said getting up to help him as his legs wobbled

You both took a shower and slept off the rest of the night, and despite Marc's words about never doing this again, it definitely did and may have even been a routine for the two of you after his “work,” a little thing to help you both relax

Can I request NSFW headcanons for Killmonger?

Killmonger NSFW Alphabet | Headcanons

Author Note: They requester didn’t specify the gender so it’s neutral, and I didn’t know what to write for the headcanons so I did the alphabet template which is from @the-coldest-goodbye

Warning(s)⚠: Sub/Bottom Killmonger (we only do Dom/Top reader on this blog)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man does not like to sleep in a mess so he insists on showering (which may or may most lead to more sex,) and even cleans the sheets before finally laying down to relax and cuddle depending on his mood

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself chest and arms, he loves the scars he’s imprinted on his chest and he’s proud to show them, his arms are his main work out point so this man is clearly buff when it comes to them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He takes a while to cum but once he does it’s a pretty large amount, but he isn’t a big fan of you cumming inside of him he prefers for it to be on him like his thighs or back, and even likes it in his mouth

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a bit of a masochist, like he’s into impact play, or getting his nipples pinched, or something even a little extreme like getting a cigarette put out on him, I mean we saw what he did to his own body this man is definitely into some freaky shit

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Well experienced but not overly, he was in the military and mainly focused on his goals but as we saw in the movie he’s clearly had his fair share of sex but he hasn’t had the chance to explore most of his kinks yet

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The power grab, it’s basically doggy style but, it’s when the dominating partner keeps their partner on their knees while holding their arms back. This is perfect for choking him or and whispering nasty talk into his ear from behind, it gets him going

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s not that goofy but he might make a few jokes or comments just to be bratty

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I see him as the kind of guy who is both messy and neat I’m his life and while he prefers messy sex, he’s very well groomed down their trimmed nicely and everything

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s not the most inmate person in general, and he probably doesn’t like too much intimacy during sex either, but there’s those days where the sex isn’t rough or messy it’s just passionate and slow and the eye contact is prolonged

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Masturbates like any normal person but not really that much, he doesn’t feel the need to if y’all can both satisfy your needs but if your busy or he can’t see you he’ll do it in the shower thinking about the last time you two had fucked

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM,

Impact play,

Spitting,

Marking,

Knife and Gun play,

Choking

And slight exhibition

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Like I just mentioned, he’s into a little bit of exhibition so alleys, a bus, and bathrooms are good with him

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The way he kissed his girl in the movie after a heist? He’s definitely into that adrenaline rush and the thought of getting caught or doing some reckless and dumb is a turn on for him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Either age play or foot stuff, not really something he’s ever been interested in or wants to do

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving, he’s very good at giving head but he does perder receiving, but don’t worry this man is good with both his mouth and his tongue, they can work wonders on anything

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I mentioned before that this man is rough and fast but has his slow and sensual moments, but most of the time he prefers it hard and rough, he wants to fuck until either one of y’all have passed out

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them, they’re conviene when he’s busy so they’re not exactly uncommon in your relationship and you two often sneak away from the crowd

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Most definitely, he loves danger and the high he gets from it so he would be down to be risky as long as no one gets traumatized by accident from y’all

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has amazing stamina, mans could go on for hours on end, but to make it realistic let’s say about 4 to 5 rounds and he lasts for a while

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own many toys, just classic things like ropes and handcuffs that he’s willing to use on you or himself but he’s open to using your toys if you have any

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s such a big tease, he likes to make you jealous as well, I’m his opinion it adds more spice to the sex, and he ain’t wrong, the build up from all the teasing makes the sex all the more lust filled

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud but he often just grunts and pants a lot along with some light groaning, and sometimes lets out low moans occasionally, but if your lucky and it’s been a while since you two have done it, he will let out a string of low moans

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes being restricted and having you take control and use him as some kind of toy, he won’t say it but you can tell because he immediately shuts up those annoying bratty comments of his

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

If we’re talking about dick, average length but is girthy, has non prominent veins on the side and his cock is the same color as his ski with the top just a tad but lighter

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His libido isn’t that high but he does often have a craving for it either and can wait for a few weeks but he’ll be real needy and more bratty/clingy which is a sight that is very rare

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

After his whole cleaning process he doesn’t sleep immediately, he talks to you for a little about random things or even about the mind blowing sex y’all just had leasing you to most likely fall asleep first and him following you afterwards

Small Announcement

I have officially stopped writing fem reader, I used to be ok with writing it but lately I have been feeling pretty bad about even the thought of writing a fem reader, I used to be ok with it as long as the fem reader was the dom but now I can’t even bear it anymore due to my dysphoria you can request gender neutral, male, and ftm, but I can’t do feminine titles or pronouns lately my gender dysphoria is getting worse and I apologize for the inconvenience as I was previously able to write for it. if you send any requests about what I just said I can’t do I will delete it. I'm the future this preference may change

OMGGG 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Can you make something for Oda? Where he started seeing his s/o who also takes care of the orphans and are gifted as well, maybe able to sing a deadly lullaby, and when the orphans got killed his s/o takes down the Mimic instead, out of grief and rage by using their gift and maybe Oda comforting after that, then maybe they leave together to start a new. (this man seriously deserved better)

a quiet life

a/n : i actually couldn’t wait to write this idea, oda truly did deserve so much better. asagiri when i catch you oda is coming back in the next arc (trust it trust it!)

a/n : i found it quite odd i used 'mom' considering i’m scottish but oh well!

pairing : oda x gn!reader (reader is referred to as mom by kids)

genre : fluff at the beginning, angst angst angst

warnings : mentions of blood & murder

wc : 3k

masterlist taglist main page

"Don’t you think stars are a beautiful sight to gaze upon?"

Oda turns to you, a soft smile placed upon his features.

"Rather lyrical tonight, aren’t you?"

You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and a playful smirk on your face at his harmless comment

"Don't you enjoy my whimsical poetry?

“Indeed I do, but you only seem to talk like that when something is on your mind.”

You relax your expression and your smirk falters only to the same soft smile he gave you. You look down at the concrete below you as you begin to speak.

“Don’t you think a quiet life would be nice?”

Oda’s smile falls down to a small frown. He reaches from under your chin to lift your head up so you can face him.

“A quiet life?” He repeats, beckoning for you to elaborate.

“Yeah.” Your eyes follow his own as you look up at him. “A quiet life with the kids.”

“You mean the five children who are anything but the definition of peace and tranquillity?”

At this you laugh, your smile returning to your lips as you cock your head to the side with Oda’s hand still resting underneath your chin.

“Absolutely.” You say with such certainty. Oda smiles as his hand traces up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin ever so gently.

“I’m happy with the life we have currently of course, but..” You pause.

“But?”

“Don't you think having such a delicate part of your life along with such a tough part of it also could shatter everything in such a short bit of time?”

He frowns, understanding what you mean by your words.

“You mean my job, correct?”

You nod, letting out a soft sigh as you turn away from him, his hand no longer resting on your cheek as you look up at the night sky.

“I know I tell you this almost every night but you know I’m right, Oda. This mafia life you claim to have going for you isn’t great and it’s going to catch up on you sooner or later, no matter how much of a good person you are.” You truthfully say, giving him a look of hurt and worry.

Oda gives you a look with sympathy, him only nodding in understanding and turning to also look at the sky. A moment of silence passes through the wind before you continue.

“I just want us to be safe.”

“We will be.”

He brings down a hand to cup your chin once more, bringing it up to make you look up into his eyes.

“Do you remember that creative mind of yours describing to me what our future could be if you had the world in your hands?”

You think for a few moments, recollecting your thoughts until you eventually find that fond memory.

“To build a cabin house with six bedrooms, around four windows placed in each room alongside the kitchen..” You whisper.

“What else?” He urges

“One little TV placed on a cabinet table in the living room so the children can eat their home cooked meals with a proper working furnace, beside it being a cozy warm fireplace that’s well kept away from the children..” You giggle at your last comment.

“And?”

You pause, resting your cheek into his palm as tears fill your eyes, attempting to hold back your sorrow but when you imagine such a peaceful life with such ordinary requests that you can’t reach it becomes a bit difficult for you to maintain composure.

“A little baby room, for when we have our own one day..”

Oda smiles at this, rubbing his thumb up and across your cheek, wiping away the tear that threatens to fall from your waterline. He gives you the sweetest kiss on the forehead, his other hand coming up to rub the back of your head in a comforting manner.

“I want to sit in a room that overlooks the sea.” He says, now resting his forehead against yours. “A room where we can read to all of our children those stories I will write one day and those lullabies you will sing to them also.”

You look up to meet his eyes once more.

“Our children?”

There’s a moment of silence before he lets out a breathless chuckle escape his lips.

“Our children.”

More tears escape your eyes, you sniffle and wipe your tears as Oda wipes some more from his fingers.

“My beautiful partner..” He starts.

“My beautiful soon to be married..” He continues.

“We will be alright.”

You brush through Sakuras hair with one of her pretty pink hairbrushes she insisted on you using. You were helping each one of the children get ready for bed, each one having their own unique personality and behaviour to them.

Kōsuke, being the oldest out of all the orphans Oda took in. He always insists he can get ready himself, and although he can - he hates the rule of having to actually getting ready for bed specifically so it’s naturally your job to make sure he’s managed first.

Katsumi, the second hardest to actually help get ready for bed. Not because he can’t manage it, but simply because he would much rather play baseball outside even when it’s dark.

“I just don’t understand why you two would want to play out here after hours, especially when there’s creeps and bad things out here that lurk in the night..” You speak to the children from the balcony you were standing on, looking down at the two boys who were so persistent on an extra five minutes.

“What, bad things like monsters? Hah! I’m not five anymore! Those stories are stupid!” Kōsuke argues, crossing his arms as he stands stubbornly to clearly state he isn’t moving any time soon.

“Yeah! Plus, if any creepers came up to try and hurt us we’d beat them to a pulp!” Katsumi shouts, balling his fist and punching his baseball glove, his eyebrows furrowing and smiling mischievously, showing his missing tooth on his upper teeth. You giggle, propping your elbows up on the bannister and resting your chin on your hands as you stare fondly at the kids. You pout jokingly as you begin to speak.

“Well, it’s a shame really..I guess I’ll just have to sit all alone and read my lullabies to myself.”

At this Katsumi’s expression flickered into a change rather quickly, his eyebrows now furrowing in a sad manner as his demeanour changes within a flash.

“Hey wait!! I wanna listen to your lullabies Y/N!”

Kōsuke turns around to Katsumi, a look of betrayal written all over his face as he stomps his foot.

“Hey!! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“But Miss/Mister Y/N’s gonna be lonely..” He pouts.

“Uh- no, they’ll have Mr Oda to keep them company!”

“But I enjoy the lullabies..”

“Oh come now Katsumi it’s okay, just go on and get ready for bed kay?” You say with a sweet smile on your face, Katsumis face immediately lighting up as he runs up the stairs to the balcony and into the building.

Kōsuke watches in disbelief at Katsumi rushing off within an instant. He glares at you as you stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry like a child yourself as you turn around and beckon for him to come in, him following behind you without any hesitation with him mumbling and grumbling like the five year old he said he wasn’t.

Next was Yū, he wasn’t much of a bother considering how he was rather preoccupied with his games, although he sure liked to keep your mind busy with him joining the other boys antics and frequently sneaking his electronics into his bed so he could attempt to play them overnight, most of the time his plan fails.

“Yū..” You say with a quirked eyebrow, your hands on your hips as you stare at him from the bunk bed.

He turns to you with a sweet smile that could’ve fooled anyone, but not you.

“Yeah?”

“Give it.”

He tries to pull a confused expression, only making him look silly due to the fact he was trying not to smile whilst being caught in a lie.

“I don’t know what you could be talking about..“

“Miss/Mister Y/N, Yū hid his gameboy under his pillow!!”

“Sakura!!”

He groans in annoyance as you smirk, holding your hand out for him to give you the electronic, him complying with harsh movements as he grabs his pillow, lifts it, grabs the gameboy but places it in your hand ever so gently, crossing his arms and pouting. You pat him on the head with a soft smile, taking his hat off in the process.

“Bed, now.”

Now for the most competent one, Shinji. He was the sweetest and timid boy you ever met when you first started seeing Oda. Rather quiet and cautious with himself and around others but the more you got to know him, the more you saw just how easily comfortable he got with you.

“And no reading under the covers!” You say as you take the book from Shinji.

He nods with a sweet smile as he heads to bed. But before he gets into the covers, he pauses for a moment and stays there, almost seeming like he was hesitating to ask something. You stand as you watch his back freeze and you wait patiently for him to turn around and gain the courage. He turns around cautiously and fiddles with his little fingers before asking quietly.

“C-can you read me it..?” He asks kindly, pointing to the small picture book you took from him and then instantly looking down when he notices you glancing at the book and back at him. Your heart melts, a small pout forming on your lips as you smile.

“Of course, sweetheart. Come on let’s tuck you in.”

Oda doesn’t think Shinji’s ever smiled so brightly in his life.

Sakura was the quietest next to Shinji, although she had a bright and caring personality around everyone. It was kind of hard being the only girl out of all the kids for her, not being able to have the same interests as the boys all seem to have. Sure, she messed around with them and played tricks on Oda with their silly fake mafia style games, but she never actually had someone to talk about the things she really wanted to talk about or do - which is why she found the most comfort in you.

Which is where you are now, brushing her hair gently with the pretty pink hairbrush she so desperately “needed” you to use. She claims it makes her hair shine, you believe so too.

“Your hairs so pretty, Miss/Mister Y/N..” Sakura says with a cute smile as she stares at you through the mirror, seeming so mesmerised by you overall. You grin as you brush her hair so gently, not wanting to brush too hard through her tugs.

“Thank you, Sakura.” You say softly, looking down at her head so you don’t miss any unbrushed ends.

“I wish I had hair like you..” She tilts her head to the side slightly, kicking her feet back and forth on the chair she was sitting on. You furrow your eyebrows playfully, the smile still remaining on your lips.

“That so?”

“Yeah!” She beams.

“Well, what if I told you that I’d much prefer to have your hair?”

At this her face lights up brighter than before.

“Really??”

“Mhm.”

“But why?”

You stop brushing her hair for a moment before placing it on the desk of the bathroom, smiling and placing your chin on top of her head.

“Because it’s so perfect, silky smooth and is the best to style.”

She gets excited at this, bouncing up and down as she pats her legs.

“I really do like my pigtails..” She says with a bit of shyness.

“They’re beautiful on you dear.”

“You do them best though!!” She exclaims, giggling as you hug her gently.

“Hey Miss/Mister Y/N?” She says after a few moments of giggling.

“Yes, Sakura?”

There’s a little pause before she thinks of what to say.

“Are you technically my mommy?”

You stop for a second, practically freeze in place. You blink at your reflection in the mirror before you turn to look at her fully.

“What do you mean, dear?”

She shifts on her butt and turns around to now fully look at you, hugging her knees to her chest as she slowly continues to elaborate.

“I mean..you always take care of us..and you act like our mommy, and although i wouldn’t mind if you were my dad also..I’ve never had a mommy before..”

Your heart breaks at this. She was right, Oda was their father figure that was present in all of their lives from the beginning, saving them one by one from death and raising them up until now without any mother figure present. Although, Oda has clearly done an amazing job raising these kids you can’t help but have sympathy for all of them for feeling so..empty? You’re snapped out your thoughts quickly as you feel Sakuras tiny hand tug on your sleeve.

“Can I call you mommy?”

You pause, until a soft smile is placed on your lips and you lean in to kiss her forehead.

“Yeah, you can call me that.”

She smiles happily, now crawling up to you using her tiny hands to claw at your sleeves to help her get up to your lap. Now sitting on it she cuddles into you, feeling warmth on your chest as you smile happily, wrapping your arms around the small little girl as you rub her back soothingly.

“I love you mommy.” She says sweetly.

“I love you too dear.” You whisper softly, not knowing that Oda had been leaning against the door the entire time with the most heart warming smile ever present on his face.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away”

“Mom! Why do you always have to sing that one song? It’s getting boring now..” Katsumi whines, resting his cheek against the corner of the chair as he looks up at you.

“Yeah, it’s a stupid song..” Kōsuke grumbles, crossing his arms as he looks to the side in a huff.

“Hey, don’t be mean!! I love the song mommy, I do I do!!” Sakura beams, grabbing your leg with her hands as she begins to shake you in her grasp.

Oda chuckles at this, leaning against his hands from where he was sitting on the floor with the kids as you sat in the rocking chair, singing them lullabies before bed.

“I didn’t think you guys could be so opinionated. I remember back in the easy days where I’d just give you all a bottle of milk and you’d be content.”

“Hey! I am content!” Kōsuke retorts, glaring at Oda.

“Do you even know what that word means?” Katsumi asks.

“…”

“No.”

“Neither.”

“Okay but seriously! What’s the deal, mom? Why can’t you sing us another song?” Katsumi exclaims whilst Yū agrees.

“Yeah! I wanna know too!”

You tap your cheek with your finger a few times as you look up at the ceiling, pretending to look as if you were thinking before you looked down at Oda who was looking at you like a lovesick fool.

“Should I tell them?”

“Should you?”

“Should I?”

“STOP IT!!” Kōsuke shouts. “Just tell usss!” He groans.

You giggle. “Okay okay,” you say softly as you place your hands in your lap before you whisper gently.

“What if I told you all..that I had special powers?”

“Like super powers?” Yū asks, you nod. The children all beam at this, even little Shinji who was placed on Odas knee now hitting it in excitement along with Sakura on the other.

“Like Mr. Oda’s super powers..?” Shinji asks.

“Well, the same term - but not the same power.” You start.

“My ability, is to hypnotise those who dare to hear my lullabies..” You explain. “And unfortunately, due to my ability, I can’t sing specific songs to you guys because I don’t want to harm you all with my power, so I found that this song which you all liked seemed to work wonders!” You beam.

“Used to like, now it’s so overused..” Kōsuke groans.

“Be nice!!” Sakura snaps as she slaps Kōsuke on the leg.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Alright that’s enough..” Oda grabs Sakura and places her away from Kōsuke, who just mutters under his breath and sinks further into his pillow.

“Wait wait wait!” Katsumi holds up his hand as to say ‘pause’.

“Is that why whenever I hear your lullaby, I feel myself getting sleepy..?” His eyes widen as he speaks, as if he’s just had a realisation. Oda chuckles at Katsumis accusation.

“I don’t think that’s quite it, Katsumi..”

“No no!! It totally is!! Look at their creepy face!!” He screams out and points to your mischievous smirk as you look down at all the children to which they all squeal at this, now all attempting to hide behind Oda although Kōsuke on the other hand remains unfazed, staying in the same position in his pillow.

You laugh, breaking character completely. “Alright alright! No, Katsumi, I’m not hypnotising you to sleep.” You begin, reaching over to boop his nose. “You, are just naturally tired.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-huh!”

Oda picks up Shinji with one arm and Sakura with the other, smiling softly at the other older children. “Alright guys, time to sleep.”

They all groan.

“Nooo!! Please!” Sakura whines, kicking her feet in the air from where Oda’s holding her to which Oda ignores her pleas as he takes her and Shinji out the room, Yū and Katsumi trailing behind soon after, leaving you and Kōsuke alone.

You turn to Kōsuke to see him staring at the floor, seeming to be lost in thought.

“Something on your mind, Kōsuke?”

Kōsuke looks up at you and purses his lips together, muttering a little 'no' under his breath.

You know he’s lying, so you persist.

“Is it the song?”

“…”

“No, the songs fine..”

“I thought it was overplayed..”

“No!” He snaps. “I like the stupid song! I just hate how it makes me feel..” He says the last part quietly, you raise an eyebrow, looking down at him.

“How do you mean?”

“Just..makes me feel stupidly tired and..stupidly..-“

“Content?” You finish for him.

“..Yeah, whatever the hell that word means..”

You smile as he says one more thing. “I don’t want you to stop singing, your voice is nice, you’re nice.”

“I’m nice?”

“Mhm..”

Your smile only grows. You reach over and ruffle Kōsuke’s hair to which he slaps your hand away.

“Thank you for telling me that, Kōsuke..and for what it’s worth, I think you’re just as nice too.”

You actually see him smile, he sits up properly now.

“Can you sing me it one more time?”

“Tomorrow, love.”

“Okay.”

You think that would be the end of that while lasting moment, until he says one more thing.

“Thanks, mom.”

You turn to him as your health melts for the last and final time.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Little did you know, that would be the last and final time you’d ever sing that precious lullaby to your sweet babies before they were taken from you.

You were walking back from the grocery store, two bags full of sweet treats occupy your arms as you hum the same sweet melody you sang to your kids the previous night.

It wasn’t until you had reached around the corner you see..what is that, smoke? Coming from near the place the kids stay. ‘That’s strange' you thought, maybe the chef had burned something? He’s always one to make mistakes, or so you thought.

You hear police sirens, ambulance sirens and even..screams? You recognise it within an instant ; Oda. Your eyes widen as you begin to rush over to the scene, only to find your boyfriend on his hands and knees, practically sobbing his heart out and screaming his lungs up at the ground as he’s infront of a blown up van. You rush over and kneel down to Oda, dropping one of your groceries to touch his face.

“Oda, baby, what’s happened talk to me please, are the kids okay..?!”

That question made his stomach churn, and he turns his head up to finally look at you, and he looks traumatised and absolutely broken, although it doesn’t answer your question, so you repeat it.

“Are the kids okay..?”

“…”

“Oda..”

“…”

“Oda, god don’t do this to me tell me the kids are okay..”

Oda shakes his head, tears now streaming down his face as he lets out choked sobs inbetween his next words.

“Y/N..I-I’m so sorry..I tried..I tried to keep them safe I just-..I didn’t..”

Your heart drops, your eyes widen even more as realisation hits you like a truck.

You stand up and slowly walk over to the van which is now been surrounded by yellow and black caution tape. You look down at the floor and see blood, lots and lots of blood and one thing that truly confirms your fears makes your heart break.

Kōsuke’s sunglasses rested on the floor covered in smoke confirms absolutely everything.

You drop your groceries, your body shaking with fear, sadness, and anger. You fall to the floor You fall to the floor on your knees as your breathing becomes heavy, little gasps escaping your throat as your throat closes up, your hand covering your mouth as you sob, Oda within a flash is now by your side as hes also on his knees, cradling you and hugging you so close to his chest that he’ll think you’ll disappear from him anytime soon.

“I’m so sorry..I’m so sorry..” He repeatedly whispers, sobbing into your hair as you sob loudly into his chest, both of your hearts hurting so much full of grief and woe.

“My babies..they were my babies..” Your screams are muffled by Oda’s jacket as you breath heavily into it, hyperventilating hard.

You dig your nails into his shirt, tears staining it as you claw as if you were looking for answers, looking for practically anything as to find any source as to say 'Hey, this is a dream' but no, you were right infront of it, the truth.

Your babies were gone.

Days later…

Oda was sitting on the same rocking chair you once sat on when you read and sang those cherish-able words and lullabies to the children. He stares at his feet, in such a grave state of confusion, denial and depression. You had been AWOL for the past few days now, Oda giving you your personal space as he doesn’t want to overstep or push you any further but oh what he would do to be basked in your affection and comfort right now, it was all he needed. He fears if he’s alone for any longer he may do something drastic. That is until..a creak from the door let’s him escape his thoughts.

Blood, the first thing he sees. You covered in blood, your face and body and hands all covered in someone else’s blood made his own run cold, his eyes widen as he sees your hurt expression, you both look into eachother eyes knowing how much you were both truly hurting.

It wasn’t until you dropped to your knees, grabbing the covers of one of the children’s bunk beds Oda gets out his seat swiftly dropping down and hugging you tightly, a little similar to a few days ago. He lets you let it all put, god knows you both need it. You sob and sob until your heart lets out everything you had left to offer, because what else was there left to give? Everything you once had was taken from you within a second, something so delicate, so fragile ; shattered.

“I killed him.” You start, Odas heart drops.

“You killed who..?” He whispers.

“The bastard who took our babies..” You seethed.

Oda notices your voice and how hoarse it was, and that’s when he realises the painful truth. You had used your ability, a deadly lullaby, to kill the mastermind of the plot to take away your children.

“Baby..it’s okay..please j-“

“Run away with me.”

“..what..?”

“You heard me goddamnit, run away with me Oda what the hell are we waiting for?!” You scream out. Your voice, raspy and breaking from the previous moments you ripped that disgusting man’s life away from his throat and body.

“We’ve been sitting, imagining and talking but why not live it already? Nobody’s stopping us!”

“My job is stopping me, Y/N-“

“No the hell it isn’t, stop bullshitting it!! You can quit, you can be free, Dazai will be fine he can come visit us and whatnot the kid will be the boss by twenty-three you know it, I know it..!”

You grab his face into your hands, his cheeks becoming covered in blood from how dirty your own were. With wide eyes you whisper, desperation and need evident within your voice as you plea.

“Please, for me, for the kids..”

Oda looks at you in disbelief, his breathing shaky as he stares at you with wide eyes staring into yours.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, you’re hurting..”

“So are you, but we can heal.”

A pause.

“And..hey, what way to start that goddamn journey by building a cabin house..?” You let out a breathless laugh, Oda laughs with you, resting his forehead against yours as he finally whispers.

“With a room that just overlooks the sea..”

2 years later…

The waves crashing against the shore make a perfect combination with the melody you now sing in the depths of your dark brown clattered cabin.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away”

“Please don’t take my sunshine away..” You whisper once more with such genuine feeling before you plant a kiss on your gorgeous newborns head, stroking her head as she sleeps peacefully in your arms as you rock back and forth amongst the rocking chair.

You hear a few creaks from the floorboards and from your husband, who carefully steps out of his writers room as he doesn’t want to wake up his child.

“Hey.” You whisper.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“What you doing in there?” You say softly as you nod your head to the writers room hes just emerged out of.

“Working on my book.”

You nod, smiling as you look down at the baby, then back at your husband.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask, what’s it about?”

Oda cautiously walks up to you and kneels down next to you, stroking his baby’s head with the back of his hand.

“Just, how having such a delicate life along with a tough part of it also has its consequences and could shatter everything within a short space of time.”

“Rather melodramatic tonight, are you not?

“Don’t you enjoy my whimsical poetry?”

You smirk as he smiles, before he stands back up and glances out at the window, holding his hands behind his back. You stand up, being extra careful with your movements as you approach Oda and stand beside him. He opens the window wide open, revealing the night sky and the sound of the waves crashing down on the shore. You glance up at the night sky, looking up amongst all the beautiful stars scattered across the horizon, that is until something caught your eye.

Out of all the stars you saw, five took your fancy. Five stars shined proudly upon the horizon as they shined together and with no other star before, at this you smile, tears slowly filling your eyes as you nudge Oda gently.

“They’re beautiful to gaze upon, don’t you think?”

Oda looks up at the sky and instantly knows what you’re talking about and he smiles, his heart aching but healing it’s wounds just by looking at the scenery little by little.

“Yeah, they sure are.”

TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101

@riiwrites

#

Hi there! I’m Koh! I write specifically M!reader fanfics, oneshots, imagines, etc, etc and sometimes I write Gn!reader!

DNI (do not interact): female readers, ableist, homophobes, islamophobes, transphobes, racists, fujoshis

I can write fluff, angst, crack, etc but NOT lemon or kinks. I feel very uncomfortable writing those kind of topics. Please don’t ask me to write a reader that has been ab*sed or r*ped or stuff like that as I am not comfortable to do so. You can request the MC/reader is from a character in one of the fandom I have mentioned here (ex: “Can MC/Reader be Kokichi from Danganronpa? Blah blah blah”). Don’t ask me to write F!reader stuff since I do not feel comfortable writing it. Please know that I tend to overwrite and plan ahead so the request might take longer than usual.

Fandoms I am in:

- Danganronpa (I only know 1, 2 and v3 games)

- Obey Me!

- Bungou Stray Dogs

- Tokyo Revengers

- Jujutsu Kaisen

- Chainsaw Man

- Demon Slayer

Characters I can write for in Danganronpa:

- Trigger Happy Havoc: I can try any characters!

- SDR2: Any are fine!

- DRV3: Any are fine! (the only exception is Korekiyo’s sister)

Characters I can write for in Obey Me!:

- Brothers: I can write any of them!

- Side characters: Luke will be strictly platonic, I still am advancing in towards new chapters so I don’t know Thirteen, Raphael and Mephistopheles’ personalities yet! Other than that, I can write any side characters!

Characters I can write in Bungou Stray Dogs:

- ADA: any characters!

- PM: any! (the only exception is M0ri and the children will be strictly platonic!)

- The Guild: Only Poe

- Hunting Dogs: I can only write Tecchou and Jouno!

- Decay of Angels: any except Bram and Kamui

Characters I can write for in Tokyo Revengers:

- Toman: any!

- Black Dragons: I can try my best!

- Bonten: I can try…?

- Moebius: nope

- Valhalla: only Hanma and Kazutora!

- Tenjiku: only Izana!

- Brahman: I can try!

- I won’t write for Tetta Kisaki

- Kanto Manji Gang: I won’t write Shion, Kanji and Keizo

Characters I can write for Jujutsu Kaisen:

- First years: any!

- Second years: any!

- Third years: I can’t cause I didn’t read the manga—

- Teachers: I can only write Gojo—

- Other characters: I can try my best to write for Sukuna and Nanami!

Chainsaw Man:

- I WON’T write about Makima or Himeno :)

- I can write Denji, Power, Aki, Yoshida, Kishibe and some other characters!

Demon Slayer:

- I can write any Hashiras and demon slayers in general!

- I won’t write anything about upper moon demons as I haven’t grasped their personality fully

Art by KYLO.

Glass Bones and Paper Skin

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

More Platonic Bruce x Reader than Batfam, but they are mentioned and will have a bigger role in the future.

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect

Just a reminder for everyone, your bodies are perfect and beautiful! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Part 2

Part 3

Blinding lights and hundreds of eyes are enough to thwart people from the runway. It makes people stumble, trip, or even run from it. Their mind focuses on if they mess up, the world will see. Their managers, agencies, everyone will forever refer to it when they ask them to walk for them again. 

They focus on their walk, the way the clothing either hugs or drapes off their bodies, how the shoes don’t fit, the way their hair is styled, and how the makeup can burn. They try not to focus on how their stomachs ache, how the heels cut into the thin skin on their feet, and that everyone in this room that is dressed and prepped, are equally or more or less beautiful than them. 

Y/N L/N seemed to be the topic of conversation at all of these events. A newer runway model who has been eating it up. From their first runway debut to this one, they have always left people in awe and dropping to their knees for more. It is hard to believe that they are only 18. Y/N has been a photoshoot model since 15, but on their birthday when they turned 18, they finally agreed to their agency’s desire to make them take on the runway. 

It was the best choice for their career. Y/N’s manager was the daughter of their mother’s manager, back when she was alive and used to do modeling. Her manager threw her own daughter at Y/N, and stated that they were the best people to work with because they know Y/N. Whether Y/N was cursed or not –they have yet to figure that out– has nearly the same exact features as their mother and the same ‘air.’ One that demanded everyone to pay attention to them, and is a natural for posing and had a natural strut. 

They’ve been right, and Y/N doesn’t know if it is because of them that they all made it this far. They knew what looked best on Y/N and what wouldn’t work. They knew which designers would adore them and which designers wouldn’t fit. 

Those who know Y/N though understand that the ‘air’ was only on the runways and photoshoots. Y/N is actually a very demure person, while not a wallflower, they were someone who could blend in the crowd. 

Alfred once told them that every country should be grateful to not have Y/N working against them, because Y/N can just disappear. 

“Y/N, are you ready?” They smiled at their fellow models, slipping into the person of Y/N L/N, child of M/N L/N and Bruce Wayne, and nodding, “Of course. When am I not?” 

Cheryl whistled, a fellow model that has been Y/N’s mentor in some way, walking around Y/N and smiling, “Designers sure know how to dress you up. I think almost every runway walk has had your hips on display” Y/N chuckled at her, “It’s because of these hips dips. You can probably drink soup out of them.” 

“If it was ice cream I’d be down, but not soup.” Jon was another model who has been in the scene for a long time. He was a handsome man with a diamond face. 

“Models get ready.” A shuffling of feet and high heels clip clopping sounded in the backstage, and Y/N took their place in front of everyone. They will be the one opening the show today, an honor that the 18-year-old took gratefully. 

Opening a show was a big deal, setting the tone for the show in general and also the tempo. Y/N took a deep breath, and at the cue, their mind went blank as they began walking. Their eyes focused on the end camera, and the walk on beat to the music. Once at the end, they looked directly into the camera and struck a pose. Highlighting the slit hips and underboob design, showing off the almost sheer fabric that had the slightest hint of shimmer in them. A statement piece. 

Turning around they walked back to where they emerged from, making sure they kept their face in control for the last camera. However, a sight at the corner of their eye momentarily broke them out of their blank space. Five familiar people that should not be here. Sitting in the front row, wearing nice tuxedos, and almost making Y/N stumble. 

Almost. Controlling their features, Y/N returned their focus to the camera and disappeared in the entrance they emerged from. Smiling at all the 'congratulations’ ‘you looked great,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ they went back to their manager, Maya, and whispered, “I need you to confirm five people in the front row on the left side. They are four chairs down from the camera.”

Maya nodded, scurrying away and without a doubt checking it out. Y/N could feel the curiosity and dread build in their stomach. If they are who Y/N thinks they are, then the after party is going to be interesting. 

“What’s wrong?” Jon wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, bringing Y/N out their thoughts, “Nothing really. Just thought I saw some familiar faces.” Jon made a weird face, but dropped the issue when another model, Logan, strolled on over. 

“Did you see them?” 

“See who?” 

“The Wayne family! They are in the front row!” Y/N closed their eyes in misery and a headache began forming. They saw Maya running back, her face pale and a large frown on her face. Jon glanced at Y/N, taking in the annoyed expression and scrunched nose, “Hmm, no I didn’t. I was too focused on looking at the camera, Logan.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was only a second.”

Jon and Y/N gave each other a dry look, remembering the last time Logan had said that and somehow the camera managed to snap a photo when she was oggling at someone. Y/N shook their head, “I momentarily saw them, but I didn’t think it was them. Do you think I can get the oldest son’s number?” 

‘You’re not his type.’  Y/N thought but didn’t say, shrugging and smiling in amusement, “Logan, what would your girlfriend say?” The model stuck her tongue, “She’d ask to join.” Before Logan could say anything else, Cheryl waltzed over, “Stop being inappropriate, there’s a kid present.” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, if you can’t drink yet you can’t have this conversation.” Y/N made a face, “That’s the stupidest sense of logic I have ever heard.” Everyone laughed at them, clapping Y/N’s shoulders and helping each other fix their wardrobes. Some stylists came over to fix their makeup and hair just in case. Everyone was getting ready for the last walkthrough, and honestly, Y/N was dreading it. 

As the front runner of it all, Y/N’s face will be seen by the now confirmed Wayne family and Y/N isn’t confident in themselves enough to not make a face. 

The show will be closing soon and then there is the afterparty that all models are expected to attend. It's a networking place, where other designers, brand ambassadors, and just people who are rich enough to get a ticket can talk to the models and try and recruit them. Its a place and time to mingle for those who have an open schedule and unfortunately, Y/N has an open fucking schedule. 

This was their last show in Paris, and then they have one destination and then it will be done. Runway season will be officially over and then it will be smaller gigs and back to the every now and then runway. 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took a deep breath and fixed their face, eyes forward and chin up. 

‘I’ll call Alfred when I get home.’ 

+++

‘I want to go home.’ Y/N nursed the drink in the flute, filled with sparkling cider instead of champagne. They stood off to the side, changed out of the clothes they wore on the runway, and instead in a deep-v top and leather pants. Still dressed to impress, but at the moment they just wanted to curl up and go away. Y/N’s hotel room has a bathtub in it and Y/N really wants to just sit down in hot water and relax. 

Y/N was constantly scanning the crowd, moving further against the wall whenever they saw black hair and blue eyes. 

Maya said one more hour, then it will be acceptable to leave. She was doing all  the talking and networking for Y/N, trusting that when it came to meet the designers Y/N will charm them enough to want to have them keep coming back. Sighing once more, Y/N took a longer sip and wished to be home. 

Something moved the hair near their ear, and Y/N almost threw their glass at whoever it was until they caught sight of blue eyes and black hair, staring at and analyzing them. 

“Tim…” 

“Hello, Y/N.” Y/N gave a practiced and polite smile, “Odd to see you here.” Tim shrugged, “Seeing that the designer is friends with Bruce, and told us of your show and that you will be leading the walk, of course we had to come.” Y/N nodded, “In Paris?” 

“Where else? You’re next one is in New York right?” Y/N gave a polite chuckle, “Since when did you pay attention to fashion week?” Tim took a sip of champagne, “Since my younger sibling decided to run off and become a model.” 

Y/N took a sip of the sparkling cider, not missing the way Tim was eyeing them with interest and curiosity. They smiled against the rim of the flute, “ ‘Run off’ huh. I don’t think those are the words I would use. I never hid it and I didn’t pack my bags in the middle of the night and sneak through a window.” Y/N set the empty flute down, still smiling politely at Tim who was still watching them, “I simply walked out the front door and no one stopped me.” 

“Y/N–” 

“Y/N! There you are!” A tall woman, hair dyed a shade-off from white gray and wearing the crispest red suit, strolled over. Y/N gave a larger smile, opening their arms and welcoming the hug, “Ms. Gabbana, you look lovely as always.” The woman laughed, “That’s the botox. Anyways, you looked so amazing opening the show!” 

Tim was quickly forgotten as Francesca Gabbana, an Italian high-end fashion designer and luxury brand owner, chatted away with Y/N. Her presence called forth other designers and models and soon enough, Y/N was entrapped in a small group talking about the next runway show next week. 

They talked about the dreaded flight to New York, and where they will be staying. It will be Francesca’s show next week, along with some other high end designers. Francesca seemed particularly excited for Y/N’s, and when Y/N first saw the design, they had to hold back the shivers.

“Right, Y/N you’re from Gotham aren’t you? Will you be visiting your family?” With the attention all on Y/N, they smiled tightly and shrugged, “We’ll see. They are always so busy so I think it's best if I don-” 

“I hope Y/N visits, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” A large hand clapped Y/N’s shoulder, and from the facial expression everyone was making, Y/N knows who it was. Peeking up through their lashes, Y/N could see Bruce’s smile on his still handsome face. 

Cheryl was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing slightly, “How… how do you know each other?” Y/N glanced at Bruce, who right now is Brucie, and before he could say anything Bruce gasped, “Y/N, you haven’t said anything?” The young adult shrugged, “It never came up. Bruce Wayne is my father.”

The room erupted, and Y/N actually wanted to go die in a hole. What proceeded afterwards was the most intense questioning for the next two hours. 

++++

“Bruce, why are you here?” Y/N asked over dinner. He tossed the crouton around in his salad, waiting for his father’s response. They have never had a 1 on 1 meal together. It was alway family meals, and even then Y/N rarely showed up for those. There was no need too. They never noticed when Y/N was there or not. 

The Billionaire playboy shrugged, “Is it wrong to see my child open a highly sought after show?” Y/N chuckled, “No, but you have never shown any interest in this before.” Y/N never hid his modeling gigs. Often using the family weight room to keep in shape and also turned one of the unused offices into a strut practice room when Y/N lived in the manor. Hours and the amount of money spent to ensure their skin was perfect and their hair was nice, and that they looked beautiful. 

Y/N never hid their modeling job, even as a teen, and yet the only one who seemed to notice was Alfred. 

“You never said anything.” 

“I didn’t think I had too.” Y/N can recall trying to show Bruce, Dick, Jason, anyone that would bother to look, a photo of them making it onto Vogue. Not the cover, not yet, but as a newer model within the prestigious magazine. They made it at 16. 16, and only modeling for a year! Francessca had them in a piece that was first page worthy, and it fit Y/N like it was meant for them. 

Alfred was the only person to look at the magazine Y/N held open with their trembling hands, and ruffle their hair and congratulate them. 

“You didn’t even tell Alfred where you are living.” No, because Y/N doesn’t want Alfred showing up unexpectedly and seeing the almost empty fridge. The thought of the older man’s disappointed look and inquisitive questions would have Y/N breaking down crying. 

“Hmmm, I’m always moving around so I didn’t want him showing up when I am not there.” Bruce nodded, taking a bite of his lobster, and watching Y/N take a small bite of the salad. Y/N swallowed with great difficulty, “Bruce-” 

“Since when does a child call their parents by their first name?” Y/N sucked their teeth, “The only one who calls you ‘father’ is Damian.” 

“You used to.” Y/N shrugged, “You never seemed comfortable with me calling you that.” Bruce rarely answered when Y/N called him ‘dad’ or ‘father,’ and yet he alway responded when someone else called for him.  Y/N would watch from afar as Bruce came running to them in need, but when Y/N needed help they had to figure it out on their own. 

At some point Y/N stopped calling for Bruce entirely, running and calling only to Alfred.

Y/N is not mad about it. They never were. Dull E/C eyes accepted it and pushed forward, watching the explosive fights, the angry words, and the silent apologies. Alfred’s words affirming that they all loved each other, despite everything saying otherwise. Y/N watched, and continued to watch as they focused on themselves when Y/N began making a name for themself. 

They’re not mad. Y/N never was. Hurt? Maybe, but not mad. That is just their hand in life. Besides, it made the modeling career easier. No need to worry about missing any events, Y/N wouldn’t be invited even if they had lived there. Holidays weren’t huge, nor were birthdays. The only one Y/N sent a card to was Alfred. 

It made traveling easier. There was no such thing as homesickness. It made taking more gigs easier, more destructive behavior easier to handle. 

“Y/N,” Bruce called to him and Y/N paused while eating. Raising an eyebrow in question as Bruce set down his own eating utensils. Ocean blue met E/C, and Y/N tried to place the emotion in those blue eyes. 

“For what it is worth, I… I am sorry about the neglect you have faced within our home.” Y/N’s mind stopped functioning and they stared at Bruce in shock. The man either ignoring him or not realizing that Y/N was staring at him continued. 

“You… you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were grieving and that fact that I could not see that shows my fail–” 

“Wait wait wait!” Y/N held their hands up, cutting off Bruce, “What are you talking about?” Bruce stared at Y/N with questions in his eyes, and blinked in shock when he saw the genuine confusion in his child’s eyes. Y/N looked floored, “Bruce… I-I… what?”

Bruce knows he’s not a good parent. He is intimately aware of his failings and shortcomings, and how some of them haunt him. They claw into his skin, his mind, and chest as a reminder of all the times he has failed his children. He and Dick barely started talking, Jason and him are slowly mending that bridge, and Tim and Damian seem to hate each other and Bruce doesn’t know what to do about that. It seems the only children he hasn’t officially fucked over are those that aren’t even his. 

Then there’s Y/N. A child of his genetic makeup, just like Damian, only Y/N’s mother was a model Bruce had treated as a hookup whenever she was on the east coast. Y/N was 13 when they came into Bruce’s care, older than Damian and a few years younger than Tim. Their mother was caught in a drug-use scandal, one that cost her her career and then her life. Her choice left behind a traumatized child, walking in on the body as she decomposed in their bathroom. They had been forced to pack up their bags and move across the country to live with a parent that they only heard about once or twice. 

Bruce somewhat knew of Y/N. He knew that Y/N’s mother had been pregnant, but when he asked if she wanted child support, the woman huffed and said ‘no thank you.’ Her income was enough, as a high in demand supermodel, and she didn’t need Bruce’s ‘pity’ money. 

So, he never sought after her and she never phoned him. 

Until CPS called and told him of the news and the now homeless 13-year-old child he was now in charge of. 

Y/N and him never really connected, and Bruce wonders if some of that is his own fault. He was always too busy with Batman, then his drama with Dick, and Jason’s whole dying thing, the persona of Brucie Wayne, then there was Tim, then Jason coming back from the dead thing, then Barbara’s whole Joker incident, then Damian…. 

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t too busy, he just never made time for Y/N. Which, the other never seemed to complain about. If they did complain to Alfred, the butler never said anything, and neither did their brothers. Y/N was just a ghost living in the manor that showed up for meals because it was expected, and then… left. 

Now he sits here, across from his child who doesn’t seem to understand the wrong done to them by not only Bruce, but the rest of the family. 

“Where did this come from?” Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because of Alfred that Bruce and the family finally realized what was wrong. The tour of Y/N’s old room, still kept clean due to Alfred’s insistence, but instead of clothes on the ground and signs of life within the room, it had photos of Y/N's past modeling gigs. Hundreds of photos, some framed, some not, as they covered the walls. Magazines that had Y/N on the front cover, magazine pages that had Y/N taking up the entire page.

The tour of the room-turned-practice room. Full of mirrors, and a 4 inch wide ply board used to practice walking. The shoes that were hidden in the closet, some too big and some too small. Blood staining the heel area of most of them as the image of Y/N practicing until and through the blisters filled all their heads. 

The meal regime, still written hastily down on the post it notes, and the exercise routine that didn’t match the calorie intake. The broken mirrors in Y/N’s closets and the clothes that now looked like they would be too big on the present-day Y/N that is sitting in front of Bruce.

The written blogs, printed and folded in one of their drawers, relating them back to their mother. Accusing them of the same thing they accused M/N. Highlighting Y/N’s faults, Y/N’s mistakes, Y/N’s features, and Y/N’s heritage. 

‘Child of drug-abuser model M/N L/N, Y/N L/N using the same drug?’ A 15-year-old Y/N posed in a way to show their figure was the picture that was used. 

‘Child of famous model M/N L/N able to hold up to the heat?’ Another photo of a 16-year-old Y/N looking exhausted as they walked out of a building. Eyes red and bags under their eyes. 

‘Beauty genes skipped a generation.’ Y/N is 17 in that photo. 

‘Y/N M/N will never be as beautiful as M/N L/N without extensive work.’  Y/N is 15 again in this photo. They had kept every critique, every mean and poorly written article about them, and kept them. Some of them were tweets, printed instagram photos, and magazines. 

Bruce could see the drastic changes in Y/N throughout the photos. The strict lifestyle changes affected their appearance and made them look even more like M/N. The Y/N in front of him, still beautiful, but Bruce knows the thoughts behind the perfect skin and perfect hair. 

It would seem that one of the things Y/N inherited from Bruce would be the internalizing of every little bad thing to happen, and deny that it has affected them while they wore the scar of it on their sleeves. 

“Bruce, you didn’t neglect me. I had food, clothes, a manor… where did you get all of that from?” 

“Emotional neglect is still neglect.” Y/N still looked confused, setting their fork down and controlling their expression as they processed that. Okay, so yeah maybe Bruce wasn’t an attentive father, but the man never hit Y/N. He never said anything about Y/N that Y/N would have to go to therapy for. Besides, Bruce’s lack of attention paved the way for Y/N to do this! 

Y/N’s lips formed a serene smile, “Bruce, I’m not mad that you didn’t pay attention to me. You were busy with your company, you are legally a dad of five kids, not everyone is going to get the same attention.” They took a sip of the water, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“It wasn’t that I was busy, I just never made time Y/N… and for that I am sorry.” Y/N hates this. Absolutely hates this. All of their excuses for Bruce are being shot down by Bruce himself and it was leaving Y/N feeling a little raw. Wounds they didn’t even know about now being rubbed with salt. 

Y/N stuck their tongue in their cheek and looked around, before smiling once more, “Bruce, I am literally giving you a way out for your guilt, which I still don’t understand why you’re feeling guilty, so why aren’t you taking it? 

“What are you hoping to do?” Bruce stared into E/C eyes and he could see the irritation in them. He set his fork and knife down, and leaned forward, “Is it wrong to try and mend broken bridges?” 

“The bridge was never broken in the first place.” 

“You’re right, and that’s because there was never a bridge in the first place.” Y/N cocked their head to the side, watching with an intense expression. Those E/C eyes flickering around, taking in the restaurant and narrowing their eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but did you rent out the entire restaurant?” 

“I did. So we can talk freely.” 

“The other ‘customers’ are Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Bruce nodded, “Family dinner.” Y/N’s smile held no amusement, “You know, if you were anybody else I would be thinking this is a way for you to slide back in my life in hopes you could get some of my paycheck. But what is a model’s paycheck to Bruce Wayne’s?” Bruce chuckled, “You are making quite a bit. I’m happy you're conscious of your position now.” 

Y/N sipped the water, “How do you know how much I’m making?” Bruce only smiled and continued eating. He watched his child contemplate asking the question again, but then decided to drop it. 

‘Smart.’ Y/N continued to watch him, no longer touching the food and seeming unwilling to even look at the dessert menu. 

“You’ll visit when you’re back in the states, right?” It didn’t feel like a question. In fact, it felt more like a demand poised as a question to keep intentions hidden. Y/N gulped, “I’ll try.” 

“You should, Alfred misses you. Besides, Manhattan, New York isn’t too far from Gotham.” It was such an innocent sentence. One spoken with a smile on his lips and kind sky blue eyes. An innocent sentence, except Y/N has never once told them where they live. 

“A beautiful place, I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave. With windows like those and that giant skylight, it is truly a wonderful place befitting a top model such as yourself.” Y/N’s mouth went dry, and they could feel the sweat on the back of their neck as they continued to stare at Bruce. Their instincts implore them to go along with this. 

Urging them to carry on the conversation as they felt the gazes of four others on their back. They gave a wobbly smile, “Ye-yes. I really love it, I am super lucky that I managed to have enough saved up, and that I make enough to own a beautiful home such as that.” Bruce nodded, “As an apology for all the missed birthdays and Christmases, I decided to help out a bit.”

“...Excuse me?” Bruce ignored them, and instead looked at their plate that was still untouched from when Y/N had put down the utensils. He took a bite, “Do you not like your food? I can get something else made for you.” 

“N-no, I’m-I’m just full.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed before making a show of shrugging it off, “If you insist. Do know Alfred will want to feed you when you visit.” Y/N’s smile was becoming hard to maintain, “It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Bruce, but I have to go. Long flight tomorrow and I need to be ready for next week.” Y/N fished out their credit card, but Bruce stuck his hand out, “Don’t worry about it, dinner has been paid for.” 

Y/N didn’t fight, only nodding and smiling pleasantly, “I suppose I will see you next week?” Bruce stood up, and brought Y/N into a tense hug. Feeling the bone and sinewy muscles in his rough hands. Y/N’s top is open back, exposing the shoulder blades and some of Y/N’s spine. Each one a small knob against skin, looking like the Rocky Mountains. 

“Safe flight, Y/N. See you at the shows next week.” Y/N gave a tight smile and quickly left. The four other pairs of eyes never left their back, and when finally in the safety of the streets, Y/N pulled out their phone and checked their Mortgage app. 

‘Successfully Paid!’ In bright green letters, bolded as if it were a game. 

It’s been paid off. Y/N now owed nothing on that house, and while that might have been freeing, it meant someone could now have access to their mortgage account. An alert sounded on their phone, and when Y/N saw that it was their bank account, notifying them of a deposit Y/N felt the breath leave their lungs. 

A large sum, one that had Y/N blinking at the amount of 0’s, was just deposited to their checking account. Right under their bill for walking on that runway. 

‘Shopping money, for when you visit.’ - Dick 

They have access to their bank account. Y/N’s family, because while Bruce was a solitary kind of guy he never was one to withhold information from his former Robins, now had access to their account. They could see what they were spending money on. 

They know where Y/N lives. From the sounds of it, Bruce was even in the penthouse. Y/N covered their mouth and tried to stifle a sob, the feeling of an invasion of their privacy weighing heavy in their chest. 

++++

Y/N stared at the article of clothing with anxiety. When Francesca had first shown them the clothing, it had only caused slight discomfort. Now, now that Y/N knows that their family is here, and watching, the clothing had felt like it was a metal ball. Francesca stood next to them, admiring Y/N’s hair and makeup, and how it all looked with clothing item. 

“I knew this would look great on you. As a Gothamite, this must feel great right? To be wearing the symbol of your City’s greatest vigilante.” Y/N swallowed down the bile, “He’s typically seen as the boogeyman, but yes. I suppose it does feel odd wearing the symbol.” 

The piece of clothing was quite scandalous, a bat symbol made out of gold rest across their chest, attached to a black silk fabric and lace. It hugged their body, bringing out the hip dips and long legs, as well as exposing their toned stomach. 

“Why didn’t you say anything about you being Bruce Wayne’s kid?” Francesca asked, and Y/N could only shrug, “Just… it just never came up.” Y/N loves that Francesca drops that. There are tons of models who have family issues. Y/N’s are minor. 

Not worthy of anything. 

“Y/N, for what it is worth, I do think you are a one in a century model. No one has taken to the runway quite like you have. I think if you had started the runway earlier you would already be a supermodel.” Y/N smiled at Francesca’s kind words, and they wondered just how they got so lucky to have befriended her. 

“Thank you.” 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took to the back of the line, being offered to close the show just after they had opened one. Another prestigious offer that Y/N gratefully took. Sighing heavily, they watched as the line grew shorter and the sound of cameras flashing and grew louder. 

Taking a deep breath, they steeled their breathing and controlled their expressions. Blocking out the world in the way they do best, strutting. The intensity of the flashes increased, and Y/N made a show of keeping their face neutral. 

Just how Batman does. 

They made a point to not look at the people in the front row. When they made it back behind the entry way, there was no time to catch their breath. They were ushered back into line for the final walk out, and Y/N wonders if they can all see how pale Y/N is. Can they see the sweat on their brow or the fact that their E/C eyes are terrified? 

“You did great Y/N!” 

“Looking beautiful Y/N.” 

“C’mon Y/N, after this its a party!” 

No, no they can’t see it because they are all focused on what Y/N wants them to be focused on. Y/N has spent countless hours into ensuring they loook beautiful without makeup, and ethereal in it, no one will care about their inner thoughts and turmoils. 

Y/N strutted to the music one last time, focusing on the flashing light and hoping that the photos they captured showed exactly what Y/N wants them to see. Once they were in the back, the models stripping and changing into comfortable clothes and all of them getting ready for the afterparty, Y/N stayed seated. The pads of their fingers running against the cold metal that was in the shape of a bat across their chest as their makeup artist and hairstylist undid all of their work. 

Francesca smiled, “You were great Y/N, I knew you would be the right person to pull this off.” 

“Thank you, what inspired this piece if you don’t mind me asking.” Francesca smiled, “Oh, I got a call actually. It was just a call to run the idea by me, but I loved it so much that I accepted it.” Y/N furrowed their brow, “A call?” They began to strip out of the clothing, but Francesca’s startled look made them pause. 

“...What?” 

“You’re not going to keep it on?” Y/N gave a confused look, “We don’t keep clothes, Francesca.” The stylist smiled, “Well, no. But Y/N, that was a commission for you.” Y/N stared at Francesca with a new found fear, and their mouth going dry as they processed it all. 

“Who… who did you say the call was from?” Francesca beamed, “Your father, who by the way I am offended you didn’t say anything about, Bruce Wayne.” Large hands clapped their shoulder, and Y/N would have shouted if it weren’t for the familiar smell of cologne. 

Turning around, they met Bruce’s blue eyes, and the blue eyes of their siblings. All of them dressed to the nines and eyeing the clothes. 

“Truly a wonderful piece, Ms. Gabbana. I could not thank you enough.” 

“Of course! Thank you for the idea!” Y/N felt their breath quicked when Dick’s hands gripped their wrist, and gently tugged them in his direction, “C’mon Y/N, you’ll be late to dinner. Alfred is making your favorite.” 

“At least let them change, Dick.” 

“Todd is right, a drive in that would be difficult. Not to mention that  it is snowing outside.” 

“Y/N, we have some clothes for you. They should be more comfortable then the clothes you came in.” Y/N couldn’t even say anything as they were dragged away, Bruce keeping Francesca busy while their brothers pushed them into a changing room. Dick smiling gently as he passed the bag of Y/N’s clothes, taken from their penthouse, into Y/N’s trembling arms. 

“Bruce paid for that outfit, so try not to ruin it, okay? We’ll be waiting out here for you.” Dick booped their nose, and left Y/N alone in the changing room taht only had a curtain for a door. With trembling hands, they searched the bag for their phone. They have to call someone. Cheryl will help them. So would Jon. Maybe even Maya! Y/N just needs to call– 

“Y/N, we have your phone out here, so don’t panic.” Y/N bit their lip to stop themself from sobbing. One thing. They just want one thing to go right today. 

A knock sounded on the wood that was hoolding the curtain, “Y/N, do you need help?” 

“N-no! No, I’m just try-trying to be gentle with the piece.” Bruce hummed, “Well, try and hurry. Alfred is excited to see you and is expecting us for dinner in three hours.” Y/N gulped, carefully stripping and putting on the sweats and hoodie. Clothes that still smell like their laundry detergent and shoes Y/N knows were in their closet. 

‘Dear God.’ They whimpered as they slipped on the comfortable pair of shoes, and bagged the shoes from teh show, and carefully picked up the article of clothing. The gold bat symbol shining mockingly at them. 

The curtain pulled open, and like a horror photo, the light from behind them casted and eerie shadow. Bruce’s face hidden in teh darkness as he reached his hand out for Y/N, knowing full well his child cannot run. 

“C’mon Y/N, time to go home.”

______________________________________________________________

A Part 2 will definitely happen! Kinda has to, to be honest.

14 Days with you Royal Au (ongoing series) [Pairings- Enemy Duke! Redacted x GN Reader] [Word count- 1768] [Tags- Angst, Smut] [A/N- Previously posted in the 14dwy discord server. Redacted belongs to @14dayswithyou]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Part 1 : Wedding and Warning bells

Three months. You kept reminding yourself, repeating like a mantra under your breath, that you had to keep up this charade for only three months. You stared at your scantily clad figure in the ornate mirror while the chambermaid brushed your hair preparing you for the first night with the draconian Duke. The black silk robe barely covered your skin, yet you looked the very picture of elegance. Fit for a partner of the highest ranking noble in the country.

The chambermaid smiled ruefully at you as if understanding your dilemma. She lit scented candles around the vast expanse of the room and drew a bath for the newlyweds, then bowed and left the marital chamber, leaving you to sit in the middle of the plush poster bed.

Just as you were starting to get comfortable, you heard the heavy set of footfalls muffled by the soft carpet lining the room. With a creak, the big double doors opened and he walked in. 

When his cold azure eyes met yours in a searing gaze, you were pulled back to the moment this very morning, when you were standing opposite this enigmatic man on the altar. The moment that changed everything. 

Your family hailed from the oldest noble clans in the kingdom. Once respected, now barely making ends meet. Your father was a proud man. He struggled to keep up appearances but refused to accept the defeat of his house. So when the tyrannical Duke of their rival clan graced his doorstep, asking for the hand of his oldest child in marriage he was enraged, to say the least. The audacity of the arrogant man to ask for his beloved child when the young Duke himself was responsible for their clan’s downfall. 

But it was you who convinced your father that this marriage was a chance to take revenge on the Duke’s family. To overthrow them and break their power, weakening it from the inside. 

You expected the Duke, notorious for his shrewd tactics, his beast-like prowess on the battlefield, and his rumored blood lust, to be brusque and brutish. Lecherous even. You were prepared for everything. This was like a war for you, and you were ready to give up your body and chastity for it. But nothing in the world would have prepared you for the cold yet hauntingly beautiful, icy blue eyes looking at you, as he gently lifted your veil. 

You don’t know what expression you wore when you exchanged the heavy yet empty vows of eternal love with him, but it was as if he had read your mind. You were expecting him to take every opportunity to use his new prized possession. But when he leaned in for your first kiss as a couple, a melodious chuckle escaped his cherry-tinted lips and he whispered, so only you could hear, “You hate me that much Angel?” before landing a soft kiss on your forehead instead.

How confusing. Were you wrong about holding preconceived notions about this mysterious man? No, you stifled a bitter laugh. He was your enemy. The reason why you had to see your father cry for the first time in his life. You straighten your posture waiting, as he prowled near the bed, leisurely trailing his fingers along the silk sheets as he walked towards you.

You plastered on a smile, revenge was the only thought echoing in your heart. Yes. He was a man at the end of the day. A power-hungry dictator at that. Men like him had voracious appetites. He was bound to slip. And you would love to break him piece by piece, even if you had to use your body for it. If he thought himself a predator, then you would be the sweet bait luring him towards his end. There was no place for anything else. No place for any doubts.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, and he placed one hand around your waist. A slender finger looped the soft string of the robe covering your modesty and pulled. 

The cold air caressed your body, which was now bare for him to see. His blue eyes boldly regarded you from your head to the toes, yet his face betrayed no emotions.

If he was affected at all by your sight, he hid it well. The only thing that showed his hunger was his slightly heavy breathing and the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he stood there silently. The air crackled with anticipation. 

‘Just get this done and over with!’ you found yourself thinking. But you couldn’t hold back the yelp that escaped you when suddenly, he wrapped strong arms around your shoulder and under your legs pulling you into a bridal carry.

You stared confused, as he walked deeper inside the room and pushed aside the curtains to reveal the opulent bathtub. The air was heady with the aroma of mint essential oil. A soft steam rose from the hot water ready for a bath. 

He looked at you, eyes peering so deep into yours, silently asking for your permission. When you nodded your head in assent, he crouched, gently placing you in the welcoming embrace of the hot water. You half expected him to leave you there, with the way he flitted around the room in an almost bored fashion. 

But then he returned to your side, carrying a small bottle of scented oil and a washcloth. His eyes never left yours as he uncorked the bottle putting droplets of red liquid into the bath.

The water bubbled and the air around you soon turned sweeter with the perfumed scent of cherries. He stood to his full towering height and slowly, deliberately looped his fingers around the strings of his black silk robe, unfastening the material and sliding it off his shoulder as if giving you a show.

And your traitorous eyes followed the offensive piece of cloth as it slipped languorously from his wide shoulders, down his slim waist, towards his plump and shapely rear, and finally descending to his long legs to pool around his feet. 

You simply couldn’t comprehend why you were finding it increasingly difficult to remove your eyes from him. To make matters worse, the pompous man stretched languidly, a sly glint in his eyes as he watched your throat work slightly at the sight he presented. And surely what a sight it was. Wide shoulders, strong pecs, abs that lined the way towards that delicious v that sat there like a prelude to his impressive manhood. 

You jolted out of this debauched train of thought, mentally slapping yourself at the act. ‘Focus…remember why you’re here’ you chided yourself, biting down on your lip hard, tearing your gaze away from that devilishly handsome man.

‘Yes, that’s what he is. A temptation, best remember that’

“Make room” he ordered, his voice was husky, and the baritone reverberated deep to your bones, making you shiver despite the hot water covering your body. It was the voice of someone who was made to be obeyed. To be pandered to. You moved a little and he climbed in, sloshing the water around as he settled behind you, pulling you between his long legs and resting your back flush against his chest.

He was so close, it made a blush rise to your cheeks. Strangely this was more intimate than any carnal act you imagined him to perform. The silent sensuality he possessed as his fingers combed through your hair, made your breath come out in pants, leaving small puffs of smoke in the overheated room and he hadn’t even begun yet.

He grabbed the washcloth and rubbed slow circles on your back. Brushing a calm path on your neck, to your chest, onto your stomach, and just as you thought he’d touch you there, his hand stopped. You bit your tongue, desperately holding back the frustrated groan that was about to leave your mouth.

For a small while, he laved your body with warm scented water, thoroughly cleaning, and pampering you. But then his patterns changed. He discarded the washcloth and used his palms instead to rub and massage your shoulders and neck, occasionally teasing near your rear and the inside of your thighs but never truly touching where you wanted him the most. Yes, wanted.

You hummed in contented bliss, all coherence already long evaporated from your mind. And soon his lips began to chart the area where his hands had been. You leaned back further into the welcoming cage of his strong arms when your lower half pressed against his long length, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. 

And then you did something surprising both him and yourself. You lifted your rear and ground it slowly along the girth of his manhood. A soft hiss escaped him echoing in the small room, and his hand gripped your shoulder tightly, pulling you back into him as he turned your face with his other hand to stare into your eyes.

“Angel” he muttered, voice rough with lust and something more primal that he held in. “Don’t play with fire, when you are so afraid to get burned” and somehow it felt like a warning and a plea at the same time. He sighed and ducked to press a soft kiss to your cheek. His long black hair seemed like a dark halo atop his head. 

You smiled to yourself, ‘He calls me an angel, yet himself resembles one. A fallen angel’

He rose, and you wearily eyed his raging erection begging to be touched. But he swiftly wrapped both your naked bodies in velvet robes and carried you back towards the bed. 

He placed you down on the feather-soft pillow. The handsome man towered above you, hands on either side of your face, as he stared, having an internal battle with himself. Unable to resist, you opened your mouth, uttering the first words you ever said since you stepped into his world. Your first words to him, “Why didn’t you take me?” 

He was startled. Then his features softened, and his cold palm cupped your cheek. “Not like this”, he replied. 

Then rising, he lay behind you, pulling the covers over both of your bodies as he hugged you from behind. “I’ll have you when the time is right. When you come to me first Angel” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair. Sighing, you melted into his embrace. Finally realizing that maybe you were wrong, after all. Maybe you had left some space unguarded in your heart. Enough for him to creep in.

[part -2]

14 Days with you Royal Au (ongoing series) [Pairings- Enemy Duke! Redacted x GN Reader]

[Word count- 3172] [CW- Angst, Smut, Knife play] [A/N- Previously posted in the 14dwy discord server. Redacted belongs to @14dayswithyou]

[part 1] [part 2]

Part 2: The Evasive Enemy

You sat picturesquely at the ornate oak desk, absentmindedly twirling the quill in your hand as you stared blankly at the parchment resting before you. 

‘Whatever will I write?’ You mused silently as you dipped the tip of the quill in the open ink pot and scribbled the first words that came to your mind after an hour-long of dilly-dallying.

The dimly lit marital chamber was quiet save for the occasional scritch-scratch of your quill. 

Dearest Father, I am in good health. I know you have been worried about my prolonged silence to your lettered inquiries. But I find myself at a loss for words at the way I have been so utterly taken care of here.  We were mistaken to assume that he would fall for such baser fancies. A week has passed by and he has not visited since. Never laid a finger upon me. Always quiet and busy with his own devices. I am at a crossroads. The azure-eyed Duke seems even more mysterious now that I live under the same roof as him. Father, I have been granted permission to peruse his archives, without any surveillance. This seems suspicious, almost like a well-set trap. Though he is yet to show any animosity towards me. But I would be foolish to look a gift horse in the mouth. Keep your worries at bay father. I shall always keep myself and my safety first.  I have received the information about the article through your trusted aide, and I will bide my time until it's safe to infiltrate his study.  Until then, take Care. I will keep you informed.

Sealing the letter and putting it in the drawer, you stretched languidly and gently pushed the chair back. Your long robe billowed behind you as you trudged towards your four-poster bed and plopped upon the welcoming plushness of the pillows. Unbidden your face lolled to the side and your eyes landed upon the golden ring that rested atop the pillow on his side of the bed. The ring that he had left behind for you. It was the only evidence that he had actually been here. In flesh. 

The whole week, you were treated to rich meals, dressed in the finest of silks and jewelry, yet amidst all the niceties something constantly felt amiss. At first, you brushed it off to mere homesickness, but as time passed a cruel understanding dawned upon you. 

On those rare occasions when you caught glimpses of the Handsome Duke walking in the hallways, you felt this forlornness tug at your heart. Even back at your family residence, although you were loved, the brunt of all the responsibilities fell upon your shoulders after your mother’s death. You were always expected to be the guardian and the responsible oldest child for the five of your younger siblings. 

So gentleness and affection were seldom directed towards you. Hence when the Duke showered you with so much tenderness that first night, in his warm embrace you felt like you belonged. Like you had finally found a tether for your wandering soul.  His cold gaze slowly travelling the length of your body like a hidden caress, still lingered fresh in your mind and you felt guilt simmer in the back of your throat.

You were not here for this. Your life was far from normal and he was the reason why your great noble house had perished. Yet you simply couldn’t will yourself to forget the touch of his hands, the graze of his warm lips on the sensitive spot on your neck, or the way he hugged you when you slept. You hated to admit it, but you were downhearted to find yourself alone the morning after. The whole estate was abuzz with the news of the Duke consummating his marriage with the oldest child of the rival clan.

You were not a fool, nor were you naive enough to avoid the snarky gossip that always bubbled under the pretense of politeness in your presence. 

“His Grace has not visited them after the first night…”

“Maybe he was not satisfied?”, the servants chortled as they flitted about your room while cleaning or serving you meals.

You let them babble because your target was something else entirely. The Duke had something in his possession. Something that linked him to the murder of your mother and the conspiracy that destroyed the reputation of your house. Your initial plan was to seduce him and distract him enough that he began trusting you to let his guard down. Yet here you were, trapped in a golden confinement, with every treasure in the world laid at your feet. He even went ahead and granted you access to his archives and his office, without even batting an eye. This gnawed at your mind and slowly chewed you up on the inside. 

‘Does he not care?’ You wondered. 

You were named, ‘The prized possession’ by the people in the estate. Compared and downgraded to the several expensive objects that the Duke won and then instantly got bored with. Lay in some deep recesses of the estate gathering dust and forgotten. They said that you will soon be treated like that. And somehow this line of thought added to your insecurities.

“Or Maybe I’m not as important as I thought myself to be…” you murmured, suddenly regretting not putting in more effort that night. Regretting not begging him to stay. 

A flurry of activity and noises caught your attention breaking this downhill stream of thoughts. Rising fluidly you walked towards the bay window and nudged it open checking for yourself what all the ruckus was about. The young maids giggled and chattered under your window, pointing towards the practice grounds for soldiers. 

“Look, the Duke is out sparring today” The ladies squealed and peeked from behind a bush. Your interest piqued, you walked towards your balcony and leaned on the vine-covered railing to get a proper view. Surely enough, the young duke was in an intense sparring match. He was wearing black leather pants with high boots, his torso left completely exposed for all to see. You gulped unconsciously, eyes traitorously following the way his muscles rippled when he threw, blow after expert blow with his war sledgehammer. His long black hair swished around and beads of sweat rolled down his pale skin making you shiver involuntarily, at the way your degenerate mind imagined him sweaty and panting atop you in bed. 

Before you could make a hasty exit, the Duke’s eyes flitted to the balcony as if sensing your presence and his mouth lifted in a half smirk like he somehow knew what was going through your mind. Blood rushed to your face and you quickly ducked inside.

Evening fell. You were bathed and dressed by the chambermaid Iansa. She was very sweet and you two had bonded over this last week, getting familiar with each other through the little interesting anecdotes she shared about the Duke’s estate. 

As she took your leave, you began your daily routine. Sitting half-dressed in the center of the bed like some common whore waiting for the Duke to visit. Only that he took much pleasure in keeping you on your toes and never visiting.

A beat of silence passed. The oil lamps lining the walls flickered. Until the last shred of your patience cracked and you rose from your bed. Putting on the lush slippers you pushed open the giant double doors and walked outside into the cold and empty hallways of the Duke’s mansion. You marched towards the Duke’s office throwing all caution to the wind. 

“This is enough, I’m done waiting” you mumble as you neared the entrance to the office. Slowly, you entered inside finding it absurd that nobody was guarding the entrance to this room. You smirked to yourself, reveling at the idea of seeing the surprised expression on the Duke’s face once he realized how you, whom he thought so insignificant, was the one responsible for putting him in his rightful place. The tyrant deserved nothing but to rot in a prison. Strangely enough, the thought of getting revenge helped keep this gnawing urge to kiss the smirk off of his smug face at bay.

“Serves him well for treating me like a plaything” you mutter under your breath as you eagerly work through the rows and rows of documents filed neatly for your tampering. A chilly air from the open window, nipped at your exposed skin, the scant lace outfit not providing much to shield you from the cold temperatures. You suppressed a shiver as you grabbed a few files and took them to the window to get a better look at, under the moonlight pouring in through the glass window.

As you skimmed through the documents, a warm hand snaked around your waist, spinning you. Surprised, you were about to let a scream fall from your lips when another hand pressed tightly on your mouth, muffling it effectively. 

“Shhh Angel, we don’t want to alert the guards now, do we?” A husky voice asked. Moving from the shadows, the moonlight bathing his figure, Duke Ren smiled down triumphantly at you, like a predator who had just caught his prey.

Slowly, he released his grip on your mouth only to rest both his hands behind you on the desk effortlessly trapping you between his arms. His face inched closer as his ice-blue eyes burned into yours, “So you finally grew weary of waiting, I assume” he purred. His deep baritone made you think of unspeakable things.

You clenched your teeth, staring back at him defiantly, “Why ask me to wait if you were never going to visit” you hissed, mulish and miffed.

His eyes widened by a fraction, warm chuckle spilling through his cherry-tinted lips, bringing your attention to them. 

“Why, Angel such…temper” he tsked, “One would think you missed me.” His hand shot out, trailing a slender finger on your temple, down your cheek, only to come to rest at your chin. His calloused hand cupped your jaw, bringing his thumb to your mouth to trace the shape of your lips. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across the seam of your lips, pushing and prodding until it entered your mouth. His thumb moved around, exploring the warm wetness, as his face came impossibly closer to yours, “Let me in, Angel” he breathed.

And you don’t know if it was the curiosity or the way his eyes held your gaze so enticingly, that made you want to obey everything that fell from those lips. Closing your eyes you opened your mouth wider, wide enough for him to push three fingers in, pumping them in and out as your greedy tongue lapped against them. Unbidden a moan escaped you, and his other hand grabbed your hip, fingers digging into your flesh as he roughly pulled you closer to his body, thrusting your cores together.

“Look at me love” he whispered in your ear, nipping the shell playfully before his mouth descended to your neck, to leave open-mouthed kisses.

You groaned and opened your eyes, breath already coming out in shallow pants.

“For someone who claims to hate me, you sure love me touching you. You like to think of such debauched fancies don't you?” he snickered with roguish pride, “Driving you wild. Taking you to the depraved depths and back…defiling you” he spoke hotly in your ear, his erection tenting temptingly in his leather pants.

“Please” you begged, not knowing if you wanted him to release or ravish you. 

“Please what Angel?” He challenged smirking cruelly as he, all too soon, removed himself from you, and folded his arms across his chest, regarding you with thinly veiled amusement.

A wild blush rose to your cheeks. He waited in silence as if he expected you to actually utter the vulgar words. Your chest still heaved, body warmed up with his skillful ministrations. And suddenly your mind painted an image of him in bed with other people. Jealousy like never before threatened to take over you. 

‘How is he so skilled? Has he been going to others every night?’ You mused darkly.

“Let me go” you whimpered, angry tears pricked your eyes half from humiliation and half from longing. Pulling the lace robe tighter to cover your modesty you whispered, “I do not belong here” carefully avoiding his eyes.

“Hm, I see” he began, as he leaned down, slowly sliding a dagger out from his leather boot. He balanced the blade on his fingers as he almost toyed with the weapon.

“You are right about one thing, Angel”, he drawled, as he stepped into the moonlight giving you a good view of the dagger in his grasp. Its silver blade glinted sinisterly in the dark, bejeweled hilt looking magnificent, fit for a person of his stature.

His blue eyes flit to yours silently daring you to break eye contact, “you don’t belong in this room” he murmured, pointedly staring at the scattered documents around you. 

“Bu-but you gave me access to your archives without surveillance” you sputtered, licking your lips as you felt cornered by his unrelenting gaze. A quiet dread filled your guts.

He tilted his head, regarding you with an inscrutable expression, and you took him in for the first time this evening. He was wearing all black like always. A silk shirt with the laces half done that exposed his broad chest. Tight high-waisted bottoms that accentuated his shapely midsection. His long black hair was loosely tied in a plait, making him look like a vision. 

But something about the way his sapphire eyes glimmering with that melancholic look, made him appear vulnerable in this moment.

A beat of silence passed, and he waited, the air simmering with the heavy tension between you both, as he looked at you with hopeful anticipation. For what, you didn’t know.

Slowly, tentatively he walked, closing the distance between you both again.

“Angel” he breathed. And somehow that one single word broke you. For it was spoken with such disappointment and fragility you never expected from this tyrannical Duke.

“I gave you access to my archives because I trusted you.” He ground, “I went against my advisers, against the whole estate, vouching for you, marrying you. Why do you think there was no guard stationed outside this room?” With each uttered word he stepped closer until you both were hairsbreadth apart.

“So tell me, was it all for naught?” He stressed, and the accusation stung like he had slapped you.

But you couldn’t lie to him. Not when you have been so perpetually lying to yourself. 

“This was a marriage of convenience between our households and nothing more, your grace” you replied curtly, ignoring the way his grip tightened around the dagger or the way his gaze darkened at your blatant aloofness. But you pressed on, delivering the final blow you knew would break him.

“You were and will continue to be nothing to me”

A snarl escaped his lips, and he was on you in an instant. You could feel the cold metal of the dagger pressing against your neck as he hissed, “Go. Take it all away. Whatever you were here searching for, take it. But do not lie to me Angel” his voice cracked, gaze softened, eyes searching your face desperately. 

“Not when the longing in your eyes so plainly mirrors the longing in my heart”  

Maybe it was the way the dagger pressed into your throat, a slice away from stealing your life, or maybe it was the way your face reflected in his ocean-blues, as if you were the only thing his eyes saw, that you yanked him close, pulling his mouth to yours in a needy kiss.

A low groan escaped him, sending a shiver down your spine. His hot tongue slipped into your mouth roughly entangling with yours in a sensual dance. 

You arched into him. The metal of the dagger sandwiched between your throats,  pricking your skins, was an ironic symbol of the enmity and the dark lust that often surrounded you both.

Every caution, every coherence fled your mind when his other hand raked through your hair, angling you into a deeper kiss. As the scant distance between you diminished, the blade broke your skin, sending you into a frenzy of pain and pleasure.

The heady aroma of mint and cherries invaded all your senses, mingled with the scent that was uniquely his. You were drunk off of him, intoxicated and utterly lost in depravity.

But when his teeth clamped down on your bottom lip, a whine reverberated deep in your chest and your hips involuntarily bucked forward, rubbing into his engorged arousal. He groaned and your eyes snapped open at the loss when he stepped back and moved the dagger away from your throat. 

Your mouth involuntarily chased his, earning a soft chuckle from the man.

Catching you by surprise, he suddenly dropped to his knees. He grabbed your wrist, placing the dagger in your open palm, as he stared up at you. 

“I am at your mercy now, beloved” he whispered, hands coming to rest at your thighs as he blinked at you, azure eyes glinting like precious gems in the dark.

“So slice my throat and reduce me to nothingness. But do it while you hold my gaze. For that’s the sight I want to remember when I die” he spoke with a rueful smile upon his face and a fierce anger bubbled inside you at the sight.

You were angry at the way he toyed with your emotions, angry at the way you were lusting after a man who was responsible for your family’s destruction. Angry…at the way you were falling for him.

‘Why did you have to meet me like this?’ was the last thought that flashed in your mind as you flung the dagger across the room vehemently, shattering the ornate mirror adorning the wall. 

You gave him one last searing look before marching to the door, not wanting him to see the lone tear that had rolled down your cheek.

The moment your hand reached for the handle, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist spinning you around, as he pulled you flush to his chest. 

A hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in kissing the tears that fell traitorously from your eyes. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He simply rocked you in his embrace peppering kisses on every inch of your face. 

Then his head ducked down, languidly licking the little wound left behind by his dagger. His own neck held the same marks as yours.Just when you thought he was done, he tilted your chin making you face him fully as he whispered against your mouth, “Poor choice to keep me alive. Now I shall remind you every passing second of the day, that you are mine” he purred, “Mine to love and mine to ruin”