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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years

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Love Potion - Roman Sionis X GN Reader

Title: Love Potion

Roman Sionis X GN Reader

Part 1 (Could be read alone)

Additional Characters: F/N, (OC) Fergus, (OC) Beth, (OC) Claire, (OC) Charles, (OC) Sosha, Victor Zsasz, Mr. Morganson (Mentioned), and Mr. Koil (Mentioned)

WC: 2,380

Warnings: Not as good as the first fic, Roman, slightly suggestive, blink-and-you-miss-it mention of torture/death, alcohol, and slightly ooc Roman

It has been a couple weeks since you went to the Black Mask with your friends. Here you were, sipping a Love Potion cocktail, in the same booth with your friends. They were all slightly shocked that you even suggested going out to the club in the first place, but after your meeting with the Roman Sionis, they got the picture. You're not one for the spotlight, and being around other people makes you nervous. But, the idea of seeing Roman made the nervousness worth it.

You, this time around, bought your own outfit a week prior to asking your friends to come with you. You wore a black suit, paired with the same black, heeled boots. The jacket was tight and showed off your figure nicely which you liked. Underneath, you wore an elegant sheer black blouse featuring a dramatic bow-tie neckline and cuffed long sleeves, with a plain black spaghetti-strap top under that. You felt confident in the outfit, and when you walked into the club, unlike last time, you didn't feel too uneasy.

Looking around the club, you tried to spy as to where Roman was. But, you found him, sitting at a booth, not too far away. He was wearing a black suit with gold details, and instead of his glasses, he had on black eyeliner. Which pleasantly surprised you. He was talking with two men at the booth, his eyes were harsh as he looked at the men, a deep frown on his face. Whatever they were talking about, Roman was not happy about it. He huffed, raking a gloved hand through his hair.

You wondered what his hair felt like if you ran your fingers through it. Would it be as soft as it looked?

"You are smitten, Y/N." F/N teased from beside you, nudging your side.

Blushing, you quickly looked away, taking a quick sip of your drink. "I am?" You asked softly.

F/N nodded, smiling. "Yes, you are." They whispered. "He's quite the charmer."

You bit your lip, "He is." You agreed.

"We know you only wanted to come to see him, right?" Sosha spoke and you just shrugged, a bit embarrassed.

"Well, I'm glad we came," Claire smiled, and the others agreed, nodding.

Looking back to where Roman was, you frowned slightly, he was gone. And so were the two men.

The night went on quite nicely, you had almost finished your drink. You hung back at the booth with Sosha while F/N, Fergus, Charles, Beth, and Claire went to the bar for more drinks. Sosha turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm heading to the bathroom, don't have too much fun without me." She spoke before sliding out of the booth and towards the bathrooms.

You sighed, feeling a bit nervous now that you were alone. You sat there, listening to the music, sipping your drink.

"You came back..."

At the sound of his voice, you looked up, finding Roman standing beside you.

"I did." You spoke softly.

"Did you come by yourself?" He asked, before sitting across from you.

You shook your head, "No, my friends are over there." You pointed to the bar, where you could see them all laughing.

Roman's eyes followed your finger, "They're having a good time."

You nodded, "Yeah, they are."

His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, before he stood up, offering you his gloved hand.

"Well, they can't have all the fun, now can they?" He asked, giving you a charming smile.

You took his hand, biting your lip as he once again led you to the dance floor, and again changing the music to a more slow one. As he pulled you close, you felt butterflies in your stomach, and your heart raced. He took your hand that was already in his and held it in the air beside you two, and with his other, he wrapped it around your waist. You slowly slid your hand up onto his shoulder, loving the feeling of the fabric of his suit against your skin.

|<>| |<>| |<>|

"What made you come back?" He asked slowly, staring into your eyes.

You bit your lip, "I... I couldn't stay away." You admitted, looking down.

Roman smirked, leaning in and placing his cheek against yours. You could feel his stubble tickle your cheek.

"Good." His lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers through you.

You hesitantly leaned into him, resting your head on his chest. You felt his arm that was wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You closed your eyes, enjoying the closeness.

"You like it here, don't you?" He whispered into your ear.

You nodded, "It's nice." You murmured back, tilting your head to look up at him.

His lips curved into a smile, and he kissed your forehead.

"I'm glad." He spoke softly.

"Are you?" You questioned, tilting your head.

"I am." He confirmed.

He moved his hand from your waist, and slid them slowly up your back, pulling you in tighter. You could feel his breath against your face, and the heat radiating off of him. He was intoxicating. Looking at you up and down, Roman sighed breathly.

"You look amazing," Roman spoke softly with half-lidded eyes, wetting his bottom lip.

You blushed, "Thank you."

"Your friends won't notice you're gone, will they?" He asked and you turned to look at your friends, who were still at the bar, laughing.

"No, probably not for a while." You answered.

Roman chuckled, "Then, let's go." Roman spoke, and he led you away from the dance floor.

Following him into an elevator, you noticed he was still holding your hand. Roman pushed the third-floor button, and the doors shut.

"Where are we going?" You asked curiously.

"To my penthouse," Roman replied, his voice low.

You blinked, "Oh, okay." Becoming a bit more nervous.

The elevator opened, and Roman stepped out. You looked around in awe, the walls were a nice dark cream color, and a way in front of you was a long table, and around the room were masks and humanoid statues of various kinds. Roman pulled you along beside him, giving you a little tour of the masks and art around the room.

"Here is a shrunken head I got on my most recent trip. It's just so ew, but he has a little haircut." He spoke, causing you to giggle lightly.

You just loved his personality.

Continuing the tour, arm placed around your waist securely, he brought you over to his plethora of statues.

"These are some of my acupuncture models," Roman spoke, pointing at them.

"Interesting." You spoke before looking over at the statue of Roman himself.

You were incredibly impressed by the workmanship of the piece. The detail was amazing, and it was a full-sized statue. Roman had a small smile on his face, and you felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

"It's incredible..." You muttered and Roman nodded.

"I'm glad you think so." He replied, his tone gentle.

He walked you into the living area, and there you saw a large red couch. Roman went over to the couch, sitting down and pulling you down beside him. Turning towards you, he placed his arm across the back of the couch, his gloved hand playing with the strands of your hair.

"So, tell me, Y/N," Roman spoke softly, his eyes staring into yours. "About yourself..."

You blushed, "I'm uhm... I went to college for art, got my MFA a few years ago, and I like to read." You told him, and he nodded, a smirk growing on his face.

"Art, you say?" Roman questioned, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, "Yeah, I love to paint." You admitted.

Leaning in closer, Roman couldn't look away from you. "I so happen to have a blank wall that needs a little something," Roman spoke, his breath hot against your skin.

You swallowed thickly, your pulse racing as Roman continued to stare into your eyes.

"An art piece from you would be lovely," Roman whispered.

You felt your heart skip a beat, "Are you sure?" You questioned, your voice a bit shaky.

"One hundred percent," Roman stated simply, his thumb brushing your cheek.

"Why me?" You asked, your voice coming out more breathy than you expected.

Roman chuckled, "Because, I want you to be mine."

"Yours?" You asked, confused.

You've only met him twice, but you felt something when you looked at him. You felt like he was the only person who understood you, or maybe he was the only one who wanted to understand you. You weren't sure. All you knew was that you wanted to spend more time with him, and if he wanted to see you, then you'd do whatever it took to make that happen.

"Yes, Y/N. Mine." Roman stated firmly.

This was all happening so fast, but you couldn't pull away. You were completely caught up in him, in his presence.

"I don’t understand" You spoke, speechless, and Roman smirked, his thumb moving to your chin, tilting your head up.

"It’s simple, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I want to know everything about you," Roman spoke, his eyes darkening.

You bit your lip, "Okay."

"And I want you to know everything about me," Roman added.

You nodded, "I'd like that."

Roman leaned in, nose brushing against yours. He smelled faintly of cologne and his natural musk, but also something else, something sweet and inviting. Roman placed his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer, and you tilted your head up, looking into his deep, green eyes.

"I really like you, Y/N," Roman spoke, his voice low and seductive.

"I like you too." You replied, leaning in closer.

Roman was just about to close the remaining gap when the man with bleached blonde buzzed hair came in.

"I... Uh... Sorry, boss, but uh Mr. Morganson and Mr. Koil are downstairs."

You pulled back, completely embarrassed and Roman sighed frustratedly, closing his eyes he breathed out an angry sigh.

"Fine, fine," he growled, opening his eyes and looking at you. "I have to get to some business, darling. I'll take you back to your friends." He spoke and your eyes widened slightly.

You forgot about them.

Helping you up off the couch, Roman walked you over to the elevator, pausing at the man.

"Take the back stairs, keep them company while I'm gone." He seethed and the man nodded and quickly headed down to the back stairs.

Once the elevator door opened, the two of you walked in. Roman pressed the button for the first floor and you looked up at him. He was standing there, hands on his hips, his jaw clenched tightly. You took a step towards him, and he sighed, turning to face you.

"I'm sorry," He spoke softly.

You shook your head, "It's alright."

"It isn't." He spoke, and you frowned.

You were slightly disappointed. You really wanted to kiss him. Biting your lip, you eyed the number three turn into a two. You have time.

Taking a deep breath, it was either now or never. "Roman?"

Roman turned to you as you softly placed a hand on his cheek, his eyes widened slightly, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. Roman leaned in and gently kissed you, his lips soft against yours. You brought your hand up, wrapping it around his neck and gently tugging on his hair. It was as soft as you thought it would be.

He broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on yours.

"Will I see you again?" He asked, grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his lips before kissing it softly.

"Maybe," You answered softly.

He smirked, "Good."

The elevator doors opened and Roman led you back to your table where all your friends sat. F/N immediately turned, eyes widening a smirk on their face.

"There you are! We've been looking for you." They exclaimed.

"Sorry," You apologized, rubbing your arm, embarrassed.

F/N was still smiling at you, "We were wondering what happened to you." She spoke, looking between you and Roman.

"I have to get back to business, you all have a good night," Roman spoke to your group before turning to you.

"I'll see you later, my darling." He spoke, bringing his hand up to brush his finger against your bottom lip.

You smiled at him, "I hope so."

He winked, and turned away from you, walking off back towards the elevator. You watched him leave, feeling a strange sense of disappointment.

"So, did you enjoy yourself?" Sosha teased, as you sat down.

You nodded, "Yeah, I guess so." You answered.

F/N and Fergus both laughed, "Well? What happened?" F/N asked.

You shrugged, "Nothing much, we danced and he gave me a tour of his penthouse."

F/N's eyes grew wide, "You didn't?" She asked, looking shocked.

You nodded, "Yes, he showed me his masks and acupuncture models."

F/N smirked, nudging you, "That's not the only tour you got. I saw the way he was looking at you."

You blushed, "What look?"

F/N rolled her eyes, "You know exactly what look I mean."

You just sighed, crossing your arms, face red in embarrassment.

"Nothing happened, if that's what you're alluding to." You spoke, trying to play it cool.

"You know he's a player, right?" Claire asked, sipping her drink. "I've seen it. He loves the attention."

"I didn't seem like it when he was just with me. You spoke, your thoughts becoming conflicted.

Before you or your friends could say anything else, you got a tap on the shoulder. Looking up beside you stood the almost awkward man with the buzzed hair.

"The boss said to give this to you." He spoke, handing you a small note before rushing off.

"What does it say?" Fergus asked and you shrugged, flipping it over.

"It's from Roman." You spoke, silently reading the note to yourself.

'Thank you for spending time with me, love. I will be waiting for you. -R. '

Your heart skipped a beat, "Well, it seems I just can’t stay away.” A smirk on your face and a glint in your eyes.

#roman sionis #cute #fluff #roman sionis x gn reader #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis x you #gn reader #flirting #slight ooc #dc universe #part 2 #black mask #black mask imagine #black mask club #oc friends

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chloe-skywalker · 3 months

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Bad This Time - Roman Sionis

Roman Sionis x Fem!Reader (Joker & Harley Daughter)

Warnings: none

Word count: 201

Summary: Being the daughter of Joker & Harley and dating Roman Sionis. But when her mother had been disturbing his business.

Authors Note: First Roman Sionis imagine.

Masterlist

DC Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Sweet;s.” Roman greeted Y/n with a kiss on the cheek and a wide smile.

“Roman.” Y/n greeted back.

“Your mother is here. Again.” He told her as they turned and headed towards the bar.

“I noticed.” Y/n glanced over to where she saw her mother dancing on a table.

Roman tilted his head letting out a breath. “Sweet’s I don’t think I need to say it, but-”

Y/n nodded looking down at her signature drink the bar keep placed in front of her. “I know. She’s been more out of control lately.”

Roman noticed Y/n’s glum expression and he didn’t like it. It didn’t sit well in his chest. “Mind sharing?”

Y/n let out a stressed sigh. “Her and dad broke up. Again. But it’s bad this time.”

“How bad this time?” Roman asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and started to rub circles into her hip.

“She burned down Ace Chemicals. That was their place.” Y/n told him looking up into his eyes. They both knew how bad that was without further words needed.

“Don’t worry, Sweet’s.” Roman squeezed her closer, his way of saying that he’ll help her through this.

Taglist: @padawancat97

#y/n #x reader #imagine #imagines #x y/n #dc #dc imagine #dc imagines #birds of prey #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey imagines #bop #harley quinn #joker #roman sionis x quinn reader #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis imagines

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welcometohellweofferimagines · 2 years

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BRUCE WAYNE x READER ❥ there is a thin line between love and hate ❥ ⌜ ❁ ⌟ ✧ ⌞ ❀ ⌝ based off of the original (cringe-fest) imagine: x

children, i’ve brought you a garbage fic and a billionaire to eat. dig in. x ⌜ ❁ ⌟ ✧ ⌞ ❀ ⌝ ⌌ ✍︎ re-written version of “ and i would like nothing more than that ”. unedited. 18 • 09 • 22 ⌍

You don’t drink. Well, much. No, that really was the truth.

All right, you might indulge in one or two alcoholic beverages here and there — but it really wasn’t a problem; and you rarely got drunk. Especially not on the job.

“Okay,” said the bespectacled man — perhaps the politest of your conversational partners this evening — before he tapped his empty champagne flute, stood, excused himself, and left.

Ah. Perhaps insisting to these blue-bloods that you were a professional, and a well-behaved one at that, was not the best topic of choice. You’d lost four, no, five... no, maybe nine people since you picked up your first flute and begrudgingly agreed to mingle.

“It’s networking, baby,” Luca had finger-gunned in your direction. “Just as important as the job.”

What job, you mused to yourself, grumbling over the glass rim. “I don’t give a fuck about this back-scratching shit.”

The last of the bubbly disappeared down your throat, the thirst for more immediate as soon as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips.

Jewels glittered in all directions, the comically elegant laughter around you like headache-inducing sirens. Your own attire felt cheap in comparison, although you’d dragged your feet into an expensive shop to purchase it just a few weeks ago.

You trudged past them all tonight much like you’d entered the store then, a little more drunk and loose now to care that you looked like a sullen child instead of [Y/N] from Accounting.

It didn’t matter anyway. You’d handed in your resignation a week ago. Soon, you’d be gone with the wind, baby. Networking be damned.

You wandered. Wandered, stopped to admire the chocolate éclairs on a server’s silver platter, and wandered some more. Yet, no champagne flutes were in your sight, save for those held already by attendees. You scratched your head — increasingly fuzzy, with the umpteenth drink coursing through you; there must be a logical explanation, you decided; but you sure as hell weren’t going to be able to discover what it was tonight, so you might as well just go sit down.

Unbeknownst to you, you were among the few guests to whom a certain British butler had long since forbidden the servers from offering more drinks. If he hadn’t been Mr Wayne’s own personal staff, one or two might not have cared to listen. But because he himself had an air of authority, none dared approach you after dispersing; except for those serving food.

A quiet corner near the French windows pulled you from the chattering crowd, a sole man occupying it. He smiled at you when you plopped down across from him, but, until he spoke, he was a little too hazy to recognise.

“[Miss/Mr/Mx] [Y/L/N]. What a pleasure.”

“Mr Fox,” you greeted, perking up for the first time that night. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Couldn’t miss one of Mr Wayne’s parties, now, could I?” There was a trace of humour in his voice. Enough for you to throw all caution to the wind and snort in a drunken response.

“So much for charity event, huh.” You rested your cheek on your palm as you glanced over your shoulder at the others. “You know, I tried to donate five hundred dollars. The lady there laughed at me,” you gestured with your chin to the tall foundation hostess in her custom red Versace gown, greying golden hair swept up in a trés chic updo. “Thought it was a joke.”

“Nobody likes a cheapskate, [Mx/Miss/Mr] [Y/L/N].” Lucius Fox shook his head. “That’s why I donated five hundred and one dollars.”

You were caught in a mid-snort when another figure approached, claiming the chair beside Mr Fox with a languid air. The newcomer unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat, turning to his adjacent partner with a smile.

“Lucius. A word?”

“Of course, Mr Wayne.” He then nodded in your direction, “We have another guest, however. Polite manners require you greet [them/her/him] as well.”

It wasn’t meant as a chastisement; rather, Lucius Fox sounded very much like he was teasing the man. The alcohol in you wasn’t helping much at the moment, but you just about managed to catch Mr Wayne smiling, an indulging expression that reeked of an arrogant nonchalance. Your nose scrunched up.

God, you disliked this man.

In the revolution, you hoped to eat him first.

“Good evening. [Mx/Miss/Mr] ...?”

His gaze found yours. Or, at least, you thought it did.

You didn’t answer. The silence that stretched between the three of you grew uncomfortable, until, when Fox began to shift in his seat, it turned unbearable.

Now was your cue to exit.

Mr Fox began, “This is [Y/N]—”

Without a word, you stood from your seat, and walked — perhaps, more accurately, stumbled — to the French windows and flung them open, out into the cool night air.

Gotham sprawled out before you: glittering lights. Much like the ornaments the elite donned inside, the spectacle overwhelmed, much too fine for an especially topsy-turvy mind such as the one you were struggling with now. But, oh, was this a pretty sight. Prettier than the one indoors.

Another outcast stood further down the balcony, the warm orange light of a cigarette cutting through the dark; he exhaled, leaning his head back, missing you as you stormed up to him with balled fists and a furious frown.

“Luca!” You punched his arm. Lightly. He yelped. (Maybe it wasn’t that light actually.)

“[Y/N], what the fu—”

“What happened to networking, baby?” you demanded, seizing his cigarette and flinging it beneath your shoe. He cried out as you crushed it into ash.

“Huh?”

“The fuck are you doing out here? I haven’t seen you inside since Lady Gaga sang.”

“She was amazing, wasn’t sh—” Your palm struck his shoulder. “Ow!”

“You said it was important. I’ve been rubbing elbows this whole time and I’ve hated every single second of it. Why aren’t you doing the same thing?”

“I said it was important, I didn’t say I liked it.” Luca huffed out a breath, inhaling as if it were cigarette smoke. He leaned his head back again and blinked up at the starless sky.

You glared at him. “How many people — and not from work — have you talked to tonight?”

Luca seemed to consider a moment. Yet, when he answered, it was a pathetic one. “I talked to Alfred.”

“Who’s Alfred?”

“Pennyworth.”

“From?”

Luca paused. He hesitated, fidgeting. “From Wayne... Manor.”

“Wayne Manor? What is he? Wayne’s lover or something?”

Luca relaxed into a grin. “Butler.”

“So he makes the bed after he wakes up from it. Okay. I get it. Good job, Luca.” His other hand, the elbow resting against the parapet, held a crystal whiskey glass, amber liquid inside. You swiped it — much to his displeasure.

“I spoke to a lot of people,” you brushed his protests aside, “I deserve this,” slowly sipping the burning liquid until none was left.

“[Y/N], I’m broke,” Luca pouted after a few peaceful minutes. “I bought this stupid watch for, like, almost a grand. Harrington saw it and did his backhanded compliment thing. He was all like, oh, I love it! So vintage. That’s their old model released three years ago. Very affordable.”

“Hate that guy”

“Me too.”

“Is that why you’re out here? Not in there?”

Luca nodded.

“Okay. Mood.” You regarded the crystal in your hand with interest. “That’s why I’m outta here.”

“Home?”

That caught his attention. Now it was undivided — you didn’t actually want, nor need, him to focus on you so much.

“No. I handed in my notice—”

He spoke as you spoke, “You can’t leave, you bitch. Who else is going to be broke with me? Even Samara in accounting has a millionaire stepdad, and Hwa has—”

“—and I’m gonna leave this conversation now, bye.”

“[Y/N]!” he shouted after you.

“It’s mingle time, baby,” you called back to him.

It was not mingle time. You lied. You were going home.

But the night hadn’t finished its fun with you yet. You hadn’t stepped within a metre of the floor when Lucius Fox waved you over to his corner again. He had with him a whole party of individuals now: a Wayne Enterprises board member, one tech CEO from someplace-or-other, two board members from another company (one of whom you were about 80 to 85% sure was Roman Sionis), and a corporate lawyer you’d seen around the tower; and last, but certainly not least, Bruce Wayne himself.

You could ignore him, pretend you didn’t see.

Ah, yes, because making direct eye contact and then walking off is a totally valid explanation behind you somehow not noticing his invitation to his table. I am drunk though, you realised. That was a good excuse.

But this was Mr Fox... Soon enough you wouldn’t be around him anymore — not that you could tag alongside him much already when you were stuck in the accounting department — and what moments you could steal of witnessing his dry wit would be lost forever. That, and he was much too nice to purposely slight.

Surprisingly, there was a seat free beside Bruce Wayne. As you sat, though, you could tell that the woman to your right — the gorgeous lawyer, a Harvard graduate, you’d heard — had been eyeing that chair up for a while, too cautious to take it for herself, hoping instead that he might scoot over, even if only to get a better look at her slender legs.

Alas, you were now in between them.

“[Y/N] is leaving our company soon,” said Mr Fox, raising his glass of whiskey — where and when did the whiskey come out?! — to you in a toast. “If either of you gentlemen have an opening for a new chartered accountant, I’d highly recommend you hire [them/her/him].”

He took a sip from the glass as he added, “So [they/she/he]’ll come back to us soon.”

The other company’s board members chuckled, their interest in you sparked for a moment, before flickering; fleeting, much as you’d expected it to be. You busied yourself with the champagne that a server came to set before you — their hand trembling in uncertainty (considering retracting the flute as soon as their gaze locked with Mr Pennyworth’s) — content at last to have more numbing juice.

“Did Bruce not pay you enough?”

It took longer than you would have liked for you to realise that the one who spoke — Mr Hotshot-Twenty-Something-Year-Old-Tech-Savvy-Small-Loan-of-a-Million-Dollars-Guy — was in fact speaking to you.

A brush against your knee startled you. You almost jumped in your seat, managing to just flinch a little, glancing down in slow realisation that your adjacent acquaintance — unfortunately not the pretty lawyer lady — had accidentally brushed his knee against yours. He’d turned just a bit to look at you. His face was a tad blurry. You drank more champagne.

Hoping it to be a rhetorical question, you just answered with what you hoped was a humorous smile. But then Wayne himself joined in; his arm came to rest atop the back of your seat.

“Didn’t I?” he asked.

Could you up and leave for a second time in the face of his questioning? I mean, yes, of course you could, there was no law stopping you from doing that. The lawyer beside you could surely confirm that. But, would it be embarrassing? Witnessed by too many eyes?

Yes. Very much so.

“My salary was sufficient, thank you.” Damn, you hoped you didn’t slur. Or maybe you shouldn’t care... right?

“Then why leave?”

Fucking damn it. Just fuck off, you wanted to snap. His face swam beside you, the smile that graced his lips a fleeting sight as you narrowed your eyes at him for a quick moment. You must have looked far too contemptuous for an employee. Good thing you’d quit already.

Thankfully, it was the tech CEO who answered for you (the one time you’d excuse it). “Sufficient, Bruce. Sufficient. Not great.”

“Sufficient is great in this economy,” offered the lawyer, twirling her finger around the toothpick in her martini, staring at the green olives within. Darn it, how come she got a martini, and you didn’t?

“Yeah?” countered the CEO.

The woman frowned. “Not everyone’s as comfortable as you are, Nathaniel.”

The subject of her frown also frowned. “Don’t call me Nathaniel.” He took a swig of his own drink. “Reminds me of my dad.”

Why not just pay what we’re owed, you might have suggested. If someone had also given you a martini, you would have said it.

Sufficient is just not good enough. To put up with their lot.

Mr Wayne’s knuckles brushed your fingers when he lowered his whiskey glass to the table; too close to where you held your flute to not be suspect. You looked at him through a narrowed gaze again. His brown hair fell over his forehead, catching the light. It looked like melted chocolate, dark; but there were hints of a golden hue in each wave.

You then couldn’t help but notice that he’d undone his tie. A few buttons on his pristine white shirt were open. Holy shit if you’d ever dared show up to an event like this, unkempt as he’d allowed himself to become, you’d be blacklisted from employment interviews for life — unless you changed your name as well as your face.

Damn this man.

“You should’ve asked for a raise, [Y/N].”

[Y/N]. Sure, he was your boss, he could address you by your name rather than be formal, but also, what the fuck. In the few years you’d worked at Wayne Enterprises, you’d seldom met the man behind the name (although... there was that one time you’d spent almost a whole afternoon following him around the tower, close to begging him to just sign off on his personal expenditures, long ago giving up on explaining to the company owner that wining and dining the hot new Swedish shareholder couldn’t be accepted as a valid use of his company card). You sure as hell weren’t suddenly friends now. Besides, the way he just said it... that’s not how bosses usually utter any employee’s name.

The lawyer beside you noticed, too. Or at least you think she did. Her posture became rigid, her gaze shifting to you. Her plump lips formed a smile, but it seemed self-deprecating, as well as accepting.

You took a moment to admire her smooth dark skin as she lamented over not moving seats as soon as yours had first become available.

She was who Bruce Wayne should be rubbing his knuckles against. Not you.

You’d rather punch him than brush your own knuckles against his skin.

Fine, yes, it was true that he was very pretty. Women weren’t as vapid as these assholes liked to accuse them of being; it wasn’t just money, and you know what, it wasn’t even only his looks that trapped women or other partners. You’d seen him shed some of his ignorance before. Sometimes, he really could be charming.

If you liked that sort of thing.

Which you didn’t.

Ugh.

“I think,” you drew a breath, “I’m done with the corporate world for a while.”

“What will you do once you’re free?” Again, it was Mr Wayne who asked.

Wasn’t he completely uninterested in even saying hello to you a few moments ago? When was he going to go back to not caring — because you really needed an opening to say your goodbyes and book it home.

“Travel. Take a vacation, I guess.” Why did your accent change? Fuck, you needed to leave.

“Good choice,” Mr Fox nodded in approval.

You raised your almost empty champagne flute to him.

“In this economy?” joked the woman beside you.

She was rich, you could tell. But self-made. Her dress was a gorgeous black silk. The gold around her neck and wrists weren’t there to brag. She had on an old, sentimental wristwatch. There was something about her, that you could tell she knew well the struggles of gaining success. If anyone else understood the value of money at this table, it was her.

You liked her. You should get up and give her your seat. Even if it meant that someone as undeserving as Bruce Wayne could shoot his shot with her. After all, she wanted him to, didn’t she.

Or maybe you should shoot your shot.

She laughed, throwing her head back at something Bruce Wayne said from your other side, showing for a moment the graceful curve of her neck. Her laughter sounded like divine song.

Nope, never mind. She was way out of your league.

“Excuse me,” you murmured, rising — frustratingly with a bit of difficulty — to your feet. Much to your distaste, your chair legs scraped across the floor, loud. Using the table’s edge for balance, you guided yourself around your chair, pausing to push it in with a keen concentration that your closest table partners didn’t fail to notice.

“I’ll come with you, [Y/N],” Lucius Fox offered, standing as well.

But before he could move, Mr Wayne also rose, the fog of his own drunken mirth disappearing for a second, noticed solely by Lucius. “You promised Mr Sionis a sneak peek of our new tech, didn’t you? It’s okay. I’ll help [Y/N].”

The two men shared a nod, even as Bruce Wayne’s gaze followed your abruptly retreating form. Fists balled at your sides, arms pendulating, you focused all your will on remaining upright and fast, all the while fleeing to the exit unaware of how cartoonish you looked.

Almost there, you triumphed, catching sight of the coat check attendant. Almost. There.

The attendant noticed your approach and offered a smile. He stepped forward to serve you, just as another woman called for him, the apologetic expression on his face too genuine to hold a grudge against him as he rushed off to get her fur coat. Foiled again! How many times did you have to be reminded of how unimportant you were compared to these blue-bloods?

You tapped your foot once you reached the door to the cloakroom. Soon, you were leaning against the wall in a vain effort to not fall. It wasn’t long before someone joined you, their amiable smile gaining from you only a disappointed grimace. If he noticed, Bruce Wayne didn’t comment on it. He simply came to stand beside you, hands in the pockets of his tuxedo pants, his gaze sweeping over the party crowd with you.

“Leaving so soon, [Mx/Miss/Mr] [Y/L/N].” His tone didn’t make it sound like a question, not even a rhetorical one; this seemed more like a remark.

“It’s almost eleven,” you mumbled, checking your wristwatch to confirm. “Not so soon, actually.”

“This event’s unlikely to end till midnight,” he told you, flashing you a small smile before returning to people-watching.

“Uh, ha, too late for me.”

Away from people, from being among conversations, you could no longer deny the fact that you were, like the embarrassment you could be, slurring. But beside him, you didn’t feel too bad about it; you’d heard about the times he’d shown up to board meetings hungover. More often than not, he even fell asleep during them. Let him hear your slurred speech, his opinion didn’t matter to you anyway.

“Sounds like we’re losing a good employee,” mused Mr Wayne, but he spoke with a certain detachment, although he smiled. He didn’t care about the company as much as Mr Fox did, you were aware; he’d left most matters in the latter’s capable hands, after all.

“Don’t worry,” you found yourself saying, “I’ll make sure my replacement ch—chases you around to get your—” you imitated signing, “—on expenses even better than I do.”

His look of surprise met only the sight of your turned back, your additional muttered, “Not that you ever made it easy, though,” hopefully going unheard as you waved the coat attendant over again.

(You'd only really done it once.)

(Not that it mattered.)

(Once was hard enough.)

To your astonishment, his laugh rang out behind you. You faced the direction of the deep sound, seeing that he was now eyeing you with a certain curiosity — all traces of alcoholic influence oddly gone. A sudden uneasiness pooled in the pit of your stomach.

Why, you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was because you’d never seen him this way. Bruce Wayne was always the worst spoiled, unconcerned snob around Gotham; yeah, he was an Ivy League graduate, but you sure as hell doubted that he got in on merit (all right, that was harsh... he was smart, you had to admit that — but he was just as careless); and what immense power he had, he used for his stupid exploits.

This man before you didn’t seem like that Bruce Wayne.

The attendant came to take your card and disappeared once more into the cloakroom. You took his arrival and departure as an excuse to turn your back on Wayne again, for some strange reason trembling. You were drunk. You were seeing things, thinking things, making things up.

Yes, that made sense.

“Do you need a ride home, [Y/N]?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm? Oh, no, thank you,” you answered, without evening meeting his gaze. “I’ll take the train. Besides...” No, don’t say it. You didn’t need to, just leave it at that, what use was it to make another jab at this dude? “Didn’t you drink?”

He chuckled, stepping around to look into your face with a smile, “I’d ask my butler to drive.”

His smile waned, just a bit (such a miniscule shift, you almost thought you imagined it; because, otherwise, that might have been the most genuine reaction you’d ever seen him have). “It’s not that safe on the trains this late at night.”

“It’s okay,” you fought to keep a frown off your face, “I use them all the time.”

Who was he to speak? His family might have built them, but you doubted he’d ever taken a train in his life.

Okay, he had a point. But you weren’t going to listen to one of the wealthiest people in the world tell you your public transport was inadequate.

And yes, of course you knew he himself had suffered an enormous loss in his youth... but perhaps that’s what frustrated you the most: that, despite what horror he faced on the night of his parents’ murder, he still turned out to be this selfish brat.

Your coat appeared, along with the attendant. He came up to you whilst someone else vied for his attention; you hurriedly handed him a tip, then left the ballroom, heading towards the elevator. A pair of feet followed behind.

“Wait, [Y/N].”

You didn’t wait. You all but smacked the elevator button with the heel of your palm.

Darn skyscrapers... Waiting for the elevator to rise to the top floor proved the worst of your experiences that night, because now Bruce Wayne was standing with you, alone, out in the glossy lobby where you just wanted to be left in peace.

“At least call a cab,” he said. Was his voice soft right now? Were you losing your hearing? How drunk were you, really?

All you responded with was a rub of your thumb over the tips of your middle and index fingers.

The lift continued to ascend.

“Let me pay fo—”

Before he could finish his offer, you shot him a dismissive look, quelling the little bud of guilt that grew in your chest from your own rude reaction.

“Goodnight, Mr Wayne,” you gave a nod, and returned to staring at the floor numbers above the sleek black doors.

He paused, for just a moment. Then, he said, “Well, [Y/N], thank you for your donation.” He turned to leave.

You shot him a smile this time, unable to keep the sarcasm off your face. “I could only offer some spare change though. Sorry.”

Silence. Then—

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you somehow.”

The doors finally dinged open.

That stupid smile was back: the saccharine one, aloof and false. He never went without this particular expression, and he was damn good at it. Somehow, it could please its recipients, even though he didn’t even bother to properly conceal the apathy in his tone of voice.

But you couldn’t stand it. You had nothing to gain from the Great Bruce Wayne; except perhaps a headache. As pleasant as his smile was to look at, all it achieved in its use with you was furthering your irritation. If it were actually possible to see red when enraged, you’d have been overcome by it now.

“You know what, Mr Wayne, no.” You whirled towards him (staggering just a bit). “You’re not sorry.”

Still glaring at him, you marched inside the elevator. He took that as a cue to follow. Inside the closed — albeit ample — space, it felt almost as if your anger was radiating off of you, filling up between those four walls, pressing, and vengeful.

If it became tangible, Bruce Wayne would be crushed dead. You too, probably; but that was a sacrifice, in this moment, you’d be willing to make.

A short laugh escaped your lips, “You’re just not.”

Serious again, you continued your attack (as well as you could). “Just like— Just like you don’t actually care about this city. No, actually, I don’t think you e—even care about other people. What is this event... Honestly? It just feels like a, uh... a sham. A chance to stroke your egos, get drunk, and fuck around. You want to raise money for the public library? Okay. Where are the kids? Where’re the... library... people? Um. Fuck. Uh, right, librarians. Where are they? Lady Gaga is cool and all, but how is her singing Shallow really a part of this cause? Did you just pick a random charity out of a hat? Because it sure as hell seems like you did.”

You took a moment to gather your breath.

“Do you even know how to read, Mr Wayne? Well then read this — you are a pompous... pompous jerk. Who cares for little else but his money. You’re a fake.”

Everything was tilting. Was the world being pushed to its side? You stumbled back against the golden rail.

Some time passed.

When you next spoke, you almost didn’t recognise your own voice; this was someone else, surely; they sounded tired; they sounded almost sad. You weren’t sad. You were angry.

“You’re the fakest person I’ve ever met.”

The elevator announced your arrival on the ground floor. The doors slid open, but you didn’t move. He didn’t either.

Gone was his façade. Not even intoxication altered his features. He didn’t even seem offended.

Now, he was nothing... And fuck, this was so, so, so much worse. Whoever was standing in the other corner of the elevator was just an empty man...

An empty man with hollow eyes.

You couldn’t hold his gaze much longer. Glancing down at your shoes, you mumbled, “You know. You know what it’s like. This place is a shit show. Money couldn’t even save your...” No, you’d better not.

Inhaling deeply, you diverted. “Imagine what it’s like for everyone else. Hon—hon—” you gave a short chuckle at your stuttering, “—honestly, even I’m luckier than most. So... just... imagine.”

Exiting the elevator, you glanced toward him one last time, parting with an “Imagine dying on these streets with nothing. Then you can understand why watching you throw —you gesticulated— “your money around like it’s nothing makes people hate you.”

Cold wind greeted you past the revolving doors, the autumn night worsening by the minute. Rain was promised, and there was no denying it would fall soon enough. You should’ve brought an umbrella, but you’d honestly expected to run off much earlier.

The way home was far; you lived in a decent enough city block, but that’s what it was: decent — far, far, far from these opulent parts of Gotham. Trekking to the train station was going to be a bitch. But the temptation of calling a taxi from here to there... Financial ruin in disguise.

You drew your coat tighter around you and began walking. It is what it is.

An arm abruptly blocked your path. Following its length up to the face of its owner, a string of curse words erupted on your tongue, luckily silenced, too caught up in the realisation that he was flagging down a valet with his other hand before you could let him have it.

“What are you doing?” you demanded.

“Taking you home.” His gaze remained on the valet, a small, young woman who rushed off to retrieve his vehicle.

“Huh? I said I—”

“On most nights do you walk and take the train home drunk?”

There was a finality to his tone, taking from you any opportunity to argue. You could try; but you had a feeling that he would just shrug it all off. It would be useless, wouldn’t it.

But you were drunk. He frustrated you.

So, eventually, you tried.

“You can’t drive.” You watched with him as the valet pulled up to the curb, the lights from the building reflecting off the sleek golden body of his Bentley. “If I have to choose between getting stabbed going home or ending up in a car crash with you, I’d rather get stabbed to be honest.”

You were looking downward as you finished, miming a stabbing. When you glanced up, his smile came into focus; you were standing close, close enough that the sarcastic pull of his lips was completely unmistakeable. You should have been angry. Yet instead, you fell silent.

He was too real here, now.

Much like when he’d looked at you with his hollow eyes, you found yourself unable to meet his gaze. You focused on the pavement where you scuffed a limp leaf onto its surface.

“I’m not drunk,” he said, taking the keys from the valet. “I faked it. I’m good at that, remember?”

Several minutes more (no one willing to come tell off the man parked right outside the hotel entrance when it was clearly a disgruntled Bruce Wayne), and you were finally seated on the passenger side. When he got inside, droplets of light rain that had begun to fall were scattered in his hair, his piqued expression disappearing behind his sleeve as he tried to rub some of the rain off. He glanced in your direction for a second while he pointed at the dashboard system.

“Type in your address, please.”

The car rumbled to life and he pulled his seatbelt into place. As you sat digesting his words, he reached over to buckle you up, throwing you a peeved squint of his eyes when you barked out a protest.

This was the final form of rich spoiled brat Bruce Wayne — the last boss, worst of the worst — you decided.

Though, his manner felt more grounded than you’d expected from him during a disagreement. You’d expected more snobbish behaviour in the face of your blatant disrespect. More of “how dare [they/she/he] not like me — I’m Bruce fucking Wayne!” than this — whatever this was.

After a stretch of awkward silence, he gestured towards the screen again, “Well?”

Biting back some ugly grumbles, you did as he asked. Wondering for a moment whether your fingers were clean enough to be touching this expensive tech, hoping Wayne wouldn’t come to find the stickiness of dried champagne on his precious Bentley tomorrow morning.

With a nod in thanks, he put the gear into drive, and sped off down the street. He immediately swerved to take over a car ahead. Your stomach lurched, and for a moment you were terrified you might throw up all the alcohol still in your tummy. Also, what did you even eat tonight? Mozzarella sticks?

Oh yeah, that’s right, Luca, Hwa and you got waffle fries after work.

Bad choice...

You muffled past your palm, “Could you—”

The car immediately slowed to a decent speed. You might have thought he looked a little concerned when he faced you, but that was impossible considering the man in question.

“Do you need me to pull over?” he asked.

“No,” you assured, shaking your head. Your hand slipped down your face, falling to your lap. “I’ll be fine I think.”

A gentle hum filled what would have otherwise been silence, the engine so soothing that you felt you’d soon be asleep. The rain outside had grown heavier. Windscreen wipers swept across the windshield, the noise a welcome addition to your increasing repose.

You fell asleep in just a few minutes, waking long after you’d set off from the hotel. You started in your seat, a sharp gasp alerting Wayne of your awakening, his eyes narrowing to where you had managed to slump down in your sleep. Quickly, you straightened, stretching out the double-chin you’d slept with, crying on the inside with every painful stretch of your neck muscles.

“We’re almost there,” he said from beside you, tapping something on the tech screen. It wasn’t until a symphony stopped that you realised he’d been listening to music. Quiet followed.

“Oh.” You rubbed at your right eye. “You can keep playing it.”

“Tchaikovsky?” He smiled a little.

You looked at him. “You were listening to Tchaikovsky?”

He shook his head suddenly, “Who’s that?”

Confused, you said no more. Your head lolled back against the leather seat, staring through the window where buildings and lights and people blurred by. Your head was still spinning a little bit. You almost enjoyed the way everything blended into obscure colours. If it hadn’t been for the somersaults in your stomach, you’d enjoy it more.

“How far away are we now?” your question came out just above a whisper.

“Fourteen minutes.” After a long pause, he mused, “I didn’t actually realise how far you live, [Y/N].”

You curled in on yourself.

“Did you take the train all the way to the event?”

It took you a while to reply. He thought it was because of his question, unaware that he had made you uncomfortable elsehow. Several seconds later, you mumbled, “No, I stayed around after work. I walked over with some colleagues.”

He thought, then began, “You—”

But your voice held his tongue.

“Why do you... keep saying my name?” Abrupt; though it came out in a bashful murmur.

“Why?” He began to chuckle. “Why, because it’s your name.”

“No,” you shook your head. The space pressed in. There was so little of it, really. So little between you and him.

“No, like... It’s so... Like...” Intimate. “Weird. See, I haven’t said your name. Not once.”

“You’ve called me Mr Wayne a couple times tonight.”

“Yeah. It— That’s, you know, formal. Like, like, if you, like, call me [Mx/Miss/Mr] [Y/L/N], that’s not weird. Even in my head you’re just, like, always Bruce Wayne.”

“Say Bruce.”

You froze.

“Huh?”

“Say Bruce right now.”

Quiet, you tried to curl in on yourself further; but could manage no more than you already had. You trained your gaze out the window at the passing streetlights.

You murmured out a “No...”

He grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but glance fleetingly in his direction to gauge his reaction, shocked to find his countenance genuinely amused for the first time tonight. You looked back outside, folding your arms as your body slumped down the leather.

“Do you not want me to say your name then, [Y/N]?”

You shrugged.

“Okay.”

A muted beep, and Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake filled the space. Moments passed. But after a while, you couldn’t help it: you turned to him with an incredulous expression. He regarded your wide eyes, tutting in response.

“Is this not Taylor Swift?”

You simply stared.

“Hang on, I think you’ll like this.”

He pressed a few things on his screen, Swan Lake disappearing. A modern beat played from the speakers.

“Wait, what?”

“You like Big Shaq, right? Two plus two is four, minus one is—” He swatted lightly at your shoulder with the back of his hand, “You’re good with numbers.”

Gunshots struck the air. Pah, pah, pah, pah, pah.

As if this night couldn’t get any weirder, Bruce Wayne randomly pointed out of his side of the window, announcing gravely, “There’s a drug dealer who sells crack down that alley. You’re only a few minutes' drive away. Don’t walk past there. I’ve heard he’s a horribly good salesman.”

You willed yourself to go back to sleep.

Morning came without mercy.

You awoke earlier than you’d have liked to a pounding headache. Too weak to rise, you peeked over the covers — gathered tightly around your head — at the blinds, confirming from the golden sunlight sneaking through that it was day. You stubbornly fell back asleep soon after.

At around noon, your roommate was no longer indulgent of your behaviour, barrelling into your room to haul you out of bed. They shoved a glass of water in your hand, pointed at a box on the nightstand, and said something about coffee and lunch and brushing your teeth whilst storming out into the corridor as passionately as they’d come in.

You grumbled about not getting even a second of peace as you did what you were told. But you supposed this was revenge for the last time they’d come home drunk. You’d done almost the exact same thing.

The box yielded to be Tylenol. As you popped two tablets down, you grew aware of your surroundings. The floor was not littered with the clothes you’d worn out — a usual sight on the morning of a hangover. You glanced down to find last night’s attire still on.

Fabric creased, it looked cheap now, not just what you’d felt it to be among the evening’s finery.

The prospect of laundering made you groan — it would take intensive ironing to get those creases out. A task you had no intention of completing this weekend.

Trudging out to the bathroom, you brushed your teeth then took a shower. Your roommate was sat in front of the TV reading this week’s horoscope when you tiptoed to the kitchenette area to steal your coffee and lunch. Their gaze followed you amusedly as you snuck back towards your bedroom.

“Hey!” they called, stopping you in your tracks. “Did you read the note on your nightstand?”

“Uh...” you glanced over your shoulder at their bright face. “No? What note?”

A flourish; with a wave of their hand in the direction of your room, you were dismissed. “Just go read it, genius.”

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath (endearingly (maybe)), but obeyed.

Spiteful as you could sometimes be in the face of your roommate's demands, your curiosity was simply too much to ignore when you spotted the folded piece of paper. It stood propped against your lamp, a little flower (smiling, you should add) sketched on its visible side. You plucked it from the nightstand and jumped back into bed.

Cursive script flowed down the paper, equal parts elegant and equal parts chaotic — too grand for you to decipher without worsening your headache.

And much too grand to be your roommate’s.

You squinted, reading slowly. Taking little in; until memories of last night returned to you.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten that the event was a disaster, nor could you forget that Bruce goddamn Wayne had driven you home after it. But the part at the end felt blurred; you recalled bits and pieces of waking up, falling back asleep, feeling as if you were floating, telling someone to fuck off, an intercom buzzing, elevator music, hysterical laughter waking you up for a moment and... and— Wait!

God fucking damn, did Bruce Wayne carry you up the elevator and to your apartment, or was that just a very vivid, very bizzare, utterly ridiculous dream?

It had to be. In what world could that be real. Any of it? The note in your hand was a figment of your imagination, too. And Mr Wayne. The logical explanation was that none of it happened and you’d dreamed a drunken nightmare. No, you still were — dreaming. You had to be passed out on the balcony with Luca or something, alcohol poisoning finally taking its toll.

That had to be it.

It just had to be.

[Y/N] —

You’re lucky you’ve already quit, otherwise I might have had to fire you after last night.

There’s some water and medicine on your nightstand for the headache I’m sure you now have. If you’re managing to read this despite it, I truly am sorry to see you go. You must be a great accountant. Lucius seems to have noticed sooner. What a shame he did nothing to stop you from resigning.

You said some interesting things at the event. Or, at least, I’m sure it was all interesting. Please don’t fault me for not understanding a word of it. You see, I’m very stupid. It’s true that I bought my way into college. In fact, you’re right: I never did learn how to read. I’m going to go home and ask my butler what a librarian is.

You must be wondering how I’m writing this then. The thing is, I’m rich. I can do whatever I want. The pen has to move because I’m telling it to. It can’t afford being sued. My lawyers are really, really good.

I’m sure you have much more to say to me, [Y/N]. I may even begin to understand if you give me enough time to learn from you.

Tomorrow is Saturday. The office is closed. I’ll wake up at 7, Alfred will make me a smoothie, I’ll meditate, work out a bit. Then I’ll drink and fuck around. Not very interesting.

Certainly not as interesting as being shouted at by you.

There’s a nice little souvlaki place around the corner from your place. I saw the owner throw a piece of lettuce at a customer when we were driving by. I think he actually meant it as a friendly gesture. They were both laughing. Come with me on Saturday night? Maybe we can get a free piece of lettuce too. Or two, since it’ll be you and me.

I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You can continue to admonish me all you like. For hours and hours. Teach me what I can and can’t use my company credit card for, so the next poor accountant who deals with me after you doesn’t have to cry over it ever again. That was you, wasn’t it? I remember you now. I'm sorry about that... truly.

You know, now that I’m thinking about it, your shouting actually reminded me of my nanny when I was six years old. Not that she was ever drunk around me or anything. She just shouted a lot. She used to show that she loved me by calling me a vexing child. I think it was German for lovely, or something like that. Maybe cute?

Anyway, rest up, drink plenty of fluids. I can’t have you throwing up in the souvlaki shop, the owner might not like us then.

Respond using my business email. Don’t worry. I only give my number to people I’m looking to hook up with. Lucky for you, I just want to have souvlaki and learn how to read from you. So, no phone number for you.

Bring your best insults. I’ll enjoy them. You’ll enjoy them. Win-win.

So, come. Please.

Yours,

Bruce.

And it was your imagination, too, that you sent him that requested email.

In your imagination, you had to thank him for last night, after all.

It began with:

Dear Bruce, —

164 notes · View notes

littleredwing89 · 10 months

Text

FAMOUS - PART ONE

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Language. Mentions of death threats.

A/N: So part one is finally here!!! Woohoo!!! Enjoy all. More to come soon xoxo much love xoxo @offendedfishnoises thanks again for all of your help with this - all the love xoxo

————

DEATH SHALL FIND YOU

————

The Gotham Sirens.

You never imagined that this would happen to you. Not in a million years. The group had taken off almost instantly and you’d become world famous. You stared up at the stage, the neon blue of your band's name glowing. Several technicians ran past you and smiled, altering the mic stands and taping down the wires so no one would fall. You loved the hustle and bustle just before the performance. Even standing on that stage in front of millions of people, nothing made your soul buzz like the beginning set up of a show.

You, Selina, Ivy and Harley had met at Gotham University majoring in Dance and Music. At first it had been nothing more than just a class assignment. Create a song. But Harley uploaded it onto Instagram and it blew up the internet. The next thing you knew, Mr Roman Sionis - headhunter for Dent Sounds Record Label - himself had arranged a meeting with the four of you.

And well, as they say, the rest was history. That was over 3 years ago now. It had been a complete blur. You were still catching up. You were no longer having to scrimp and save for cash. No. Now, now you had everything. Everything you’d ever dreamed of. Everything but your privacy. Especially after the meeting this morning with Roman.

——

“You’re not being serious are you?”.

You looked into the mirror whilst the make up artist finished off your eyelashes. Your manager, Roman, stood behind you with his arms crossed. A stern look stitched onto his face.

“Of course I am”, he huffed and his stare burned into you, “You’ve received another death threat and someone tried to break into your condo last month. You need more security. Something more personal”.

You rolled your eyes and the make up artist scolded you by smacking her brush on your wrist. You grinned cheekily at her before resting back in your chair, putting on your sickliest, sweetest voice, “Romy…”.

Your little nickname for him. It worked every time. He’d never allow anyone else to call him that. Just you.

“No”, he growled, “This is my final decision. You’re getting a personal bodyguard. I don’t want to find you chopped into tiny pieces”.

“How come Ivy doesn’t have to have one? Or Selina...even Harley doesn’t! So why me?”.

You didn’t need a bodyguard. You knew the second you got one, you would be kissing your freedom goodbye. They’d be with you 24/7. Your apartment would be shared. You wouldn’t even be able to sneak off to McDonalds for a McFlurry at 3am without having to confirm it with them. Or even worse, have them go with you.

“They haven’t had any psychotic stalkers”, Roman rested against the wall, sighing deeply, “yet”.

You scowled and refused to meet his eyes in the mirror. This was a complete over reaction.

“Look, I know you’re not happy but this goes way over my head. Mr Dent, the CEO—insisted. And to be honest Y/N, I think it’s a good idea. You girls are only getting more popular and that means more weirdos will crawl out of the woodwork”.

“Romy…”, you tried once more, turning to him and fluttering your dark, thick lashes at him, “Can’t you talk to Mr Dent?”.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, the muscles in his forearms contracting. You noticed the dark shadows under his eyes and silently wondered when he last got a good night's sleep.

“I’m sorry”, he muttered, “But I agree with Harv on this one, I’ve already been in touch with a firm. They’re highly recommended…you’ll meet them tomorrow”.

He turned quickly and strode out of the changing room as his phone rang, ending the conversation abruptly. You could hear his booming voice bouncing down the corridor and you glared at yourself in the mirror.

Fucking perfect.

————

Dumping a wad of paperwork down onto the desk, Jason sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. He knew high profile clientele came with difficulty but the stack of paperwork Sionis had sent him was nothing short of ridiculous. They even wanted to know where he’d bought his new leather jacket from last month.

“Alright?”, Roy sauntered over with his own coffee cup shuffling some of the papers. He was awfully chipper this early in the morning. Jason hummed in response and grabbed a pen from the side beginning to fill in the required forms.

He’d started this business with Roy a few years ago. Dropping out of university was tough but it wasn’t for him. Jason remembered worrying about telling Bruce. What his family would think of him but they showed him nothing but support. Unconditional love. They’d both managed, with countless hours, to build ‘Outlaws Security’, into the most successful security firm in Gotham.

Roy’s eyebrows lifted upon seeing a photo of the new client, “Isn’t that the chick you had on your wall at uni?”.

“What? No!”, Jason bristled and shoved the photo of you back under the documents. He inwardly cursed. Fucking Roy.

“So, you're saying that if I look inside your office locker, I won't find a poster of her?”.

Jason heard the cocky smirk on Roy’s face and groaned in irritation running a hand over the front of his face, “Touch my locker and I’ll break your legs”.

Roy cackled loudly and sat on the edge of Jason’s desk, “Ok so you do still have it. Better not let her find it”.

“You’re a real jackass you know”.

“So I’ve heard...maybe she’ll sign it for you if you ask nicely”, Roy continued to mock Jason, making kissy faces at him.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth before I shut it for you”, Jason scowled and turned his chair around pretending to look for some files in the cabinet behind him. Hoping Roy would get the hint and leave him alone.

“This must be like your dream job come true, pretty boy—better not screw it up”.

Jason sighed deeply and threw his head back in exasperation, “I need a new best friend”.

Roy gasped dramatically and held a hand over his heart, “What?! You love me and you know it!”.

“Whoever told you that was lying”.

————

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader insert #red hood imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood smut #red hood x reader insert #red hood fanfiction #Jason Todd x you #red hood x you #bodyguard!jason todd x reader #bodyguard!jason todd x singer!reader

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moonlit-imagines · 4 months

Text

You’ve Got the Wrong Guy!

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x adoptive!reader

warnings: blood/gore. u know. BOP movie icky stuff

a/n: silly little gif

prompt: @jokekinsjoke505: “Hey I need a new adoptive father's Roman and victor because I think this will be a good idea where either they kidnapped the wrong kid and it ended up with Roman and victor adopted the reader or that one day that the reader walks in while victor is peeling off a face and Roman are eating popcorn watching it happened but they just says ' I'm to tired for this shit' before walking out again and then acted like it never happened.”

“Who does this child belong to?” Asked Roman to his mercenary and dear friend, Victor. In front of him was Victor holding you, a small child, calm in demeanor despite being taken from the comfort of your own home and family.

“Maroni.” Victor replied without a single doubt. “That’s who you told me to grab and I grabbed the kid. Just like you asked. One cool kid if you ask me.” Victor continued, noticing Roman getting visibly upset. “I don’t get it, what’s the problem?”

“That!” Roman shouted, startling you enough to start struggling from Victor’s grasp. He gently set you down as Roman tore him a new one. “That’s the problem, you don’t even see your failure!” You stood behind the bleach-blonde man, trying to understand what was happening, you were just waiting for the ice cream you were promised, you were so hungry. “That’s not Maroni’s kid. I don’t even know who that is? Did you take some random child off the street?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I could’ve sworn this is the kid.” Zsasz answered.

“I’m hungry.” You quietly mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you something in just a second.” Zsasz assured you, patting your head gently as Roman kneeled down to your height. You flinched and backed up a step, remembering his blind anger from just moments before. “It’s alright, he’s a good guy.”

“Who are you, dear?” Roman asked you in such a kind manner that you completely forgot how scary he was.

“Y/N.” You simply stated.

“Where are your parents, y/n?” Roman questioned further.

“I don’t know…” You sighed. “I didn’t see them for a few days.” Roman looked up to Victor with worry in his eyes, and was surprised to see a smile on his face.

“Can we keep them?” Victor giggled a bit, even more when you grabbed his leg. “Please?”

“Y/N, would you want to stay with us instead of your parents?” Roman had asked you a very heavy question for a young child, but you had no idea what he would really be asking of you. Of course, you didn’t come from a happy life and this already seemed better. You just wanted a sense of belonging.

“Can I get ice cream?” You innocently requested of them.

“Of course, dear! What kind?”

“Uhhh…chocolate!”

“Victor, go get y/n some chocolate ice cream!” He commanded and Victor ran to fulfill your wish. “So, you’ll stay here?” He asked you once more.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed and hugged him around the neck. He felt his heart melt at your embrace and hugged you back, lifting you up to take you with him to the kitchen. “So, who are you?” You asked him.

“I’m Roman. And my partner over there is Victor.” He smiled to himself. In a matter of moments, he’d created a family. One he’d kill for.

Once you were given your bowl of ice cream, you were sold on this new life. Truth be told, you didn’t have the greatest parents. They were absent and neglectful, which was the exact reason Victor found you all alone. It was still unknown why he mistook you for the child of a notorious mobster. Roman had his suspicions that Victor had planned this, but he laid them aside knowing this was good for them. For you all.

The two of them scrambled to make you a room, promising to buy you anything you would ever want when tomorrow rolled around. You were thrilled to be taken in by these two strange men, forgiving both of them in your young, impressionable mind. Roman, for his anger, and Victor, for kidnapping and misleading you.

“Victor.” Roman lowly said after you were tucked in. “I do apologize for raising my voice at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Victor looked down at the table, then felt a hand wrap around his.

“No, I shouldn’t have done it. Especially when you’ve improved our lives so much.” Roman sat beside him. “I don’t even care about that Maroni kid anymore. This is what I care about now. You and y/n.”

“You mean that?” Victor smiled and relaxed his tense body, worried that his mistake would be unforgivable. But Roman always forgave Victor, that was what made them so special. Now they had a new challenge to tackle together: fatherhood.

—————

Years after you’d been adopted by the pair of criminals with high status in the underworld, you’d grown quite accustomed to their behavior. It wasn’t unusual to find Roman frantic or angry, or a bit violent at times. But never toward you, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you or raise his voice to you. You could do no wrong.

You could also find Victor coming home from a late night, covered in blood—be it his own from a mark or someone else’s from a job—and being very nonchalant about it. It was always, “y/n! I’m glad you’re up! Would you like some ice cream?” They never left the freezer understocked, even if ice cream wasn’t your favorite anymore.

But there was one “normal” you’d never really get used to, even if you were used to their brutality. Roman was a well-respected crime boss, and to keep that respect intact, he had to do some rather gruesome things.

Well, he didn’t have to. It was a personal choice for him, you could almost consider it a hobby at this point.

You’d been looking for your fathers for going on an hour now, needing some permission slip signed for school. You wandered all their possible routes hoping to catch them across one, asking around to any lackey you managed to catch. No one had an answer for you, so you continued on until you stumbled onto a horrible scene.

One father held a segment of his victim’s hanging skin from their face as they shrieked at the top of their lungs. The sound pierced your eardrums and you winced momentarily. Then you saw the other leaned back in his seat with a bag of popcorn in hand, yelling words of encouragement to Roman, as if he needed them.

“You guys are really something.” Your voice startled them both, so much that you nearly had a gun pulled on you.

“Y/N! You scared us, I’m sorry!” Victor jumped up and ran to give you a comforting hug. “I wouldn’t have shot you, I promise.” You patted him on the back.

“I believe you, Dad.” You mumbled into his shoulder. “Can you just sign this thing real quick? Make sure there isn’t any blood on your hands.” Victor pulled away and wiped his hands on his shirt.

“Of course, of course. Roman, are you almost done with that? We should take our dear y/n out for a nice dinner soon, they deserve it.” Victor explained as he grabbed the pen and paper from your hands.

“Sure, that sounds nice. I should be done in a few minutes. Don’t rush me.” Roman continued dragging the knife under his chained victim’s skin and you shook your head at the sight. By now, this didn’t even faze you, it was just another day in your life. Well, maybe the first few times you had nightmares, but you weren’t a little kid anymore. Now, you could care less what your fathers did for work. So long as they gave you the world and their love, life was good.

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @randomfandomimagine // @summersimmerus // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @amirahiddleston // @sydknee624 // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 //

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hereticpriest · 2 months

Text

Masterlist

MDNI

Series

Mercy

Rating: Explicit 18+

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Read on AO3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Nine Point Five - Part Ten -

Miniseries

The Typist - Laszlo Kreizler and his bitey wife

Bite - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia

Chew - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite

Swallow - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite and sequel to Chew

Oneshots

The Bath - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft cockwarming

Pyrrhic - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft 14k of HYDRA being the worst and Helmut Zemo being a consent king

Ctrl and Power - Ernst Schmidt x Reader ft rough sex and secret relationships

Sriracha - Dirk Brûlée x single mom!reader ft sex toys/sybian

Muse - Niki Lauda x photographer!reader ft soft femdom and bondage and breeding

What Happens in Ibiza - Nikia Lauda x photographer!reader x James Hunt ft threesomes, double penetration and anal

Requests and Prompts

Reader likes to come up behind Zemo and kiss or bite him

Roman Sionis fucking reader in his club and being a show off about it (and also he's a total switch)

Roman Sionis making female reader cockwarm him during a gang meeting

Obi-Wan Kenobi noticing female reader's tattoos after sex and pausing to enjoy them

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan kenobi x original character #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #my writing #requests and prompts #masterlist #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis #black mask x reader #dirk brûlée x reader

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multireese · 2 years

Text

Jason Todd x male reader

Jason steals from crime bosses for fun but his plans are thrown off by a beautiful sleeping stranger

In and out. The plan was simple and Jason Todd had done it a thousand times. Walk in, get the jewels and cash and go. It should have been easy but the man didn’t expect someone like you to be in this disgusting city. If your underwear were cut any shorter they might technically be panties, not that Jason didn’t love the view. The hero watched as you stirred in bed. He could see how your underwear was rising on one side giving him a peek at your delicious round ass. Jason drifted into the thought of pulling those pesky briefs off of you. Teasing that hole with his tongue until you awoke then fucking you stupid. Focus. He wasn’t trying to be as stealthy as usual for some strange reason. Jason Todd scolded himself for wanting you to wake up.

Roman Sionis is a psychopathic rich boy crime boss who can have anyone in Gotham. He doesn’t deserve this angel of a man in his bed. You were sleeping on top of the bed sheets as if you had been waiting for that asshole. This revelation angered Jason. Why do men like Sionis get first dibs on any beautiful thing they want? Jason assumed you didn’t know getting on Roman’s bad side or trying to leave him would end with you getting that gorgeous face carved off. There was one more precious gem he had decided to take from Sionis.

“Wake up baby boy.” Jason whispered. He placed his helmet on the opposite side of you then brought his hand to your face. You were more beautiful the closer he got. Jason repeated himself until you let out that most adorable grumbling noise before meeting your eyes. “Shush. Don’t be scared. I’m going to get you away from here.” A look of relief was on your face before you realized this man was a stranger. You were still in danger. Jason Todd could read you like a book. His anger returned. You could not trust him because of whatever Sionis has done to you. There was no time to explain it all or to possibly argue. Jason snatched you out of the bed. He repelled out of the window, holding you tight.

In some moments, you were zooming through the streets of Gotham wearing the Red Hood’s helmet. You held onto the strange man’s jacket for dear life as Jason went through a secret tunnel in an underpass that would lead to the bat cave. Jason only wished he wasn’t fully clothed so he could really feel you. Skin to skin. When the two of you arrived Jason promised to explain everything as soon as he got you to his room without being noticed by his family. You thought that was weird but he first checked to make sure you were feeling alright. “Do you think I can borrow some clothes? Roman had burned everything I owned from before I met him.” Jason would have been angered to hear Roman’s name leave your lips but he was too distracted by your still near naked body.

“My name is Y/n, by the way,” you pulled Jason from a haze of simping hard when you spoke again. Jason quickly responded with his own name which shocked you, “I didn’t expect your real name, Red Hood, but I like Jason better.” You said with a smile. Jason returned the gesture and for one second you thought to kiss the handsome stranger that saved you. Suddenly you heard a voice that scared you.

“I’ll say I did not expect master Todd to be so forthcoming either,” Alfred spoke, “you must be very special mr. Y/n”

Jason cursed to himself, “…just let me explain everything to the big guy in the morning. Please Alfred?”

“As you wish.”

#jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #red hood #batman x male reader #batfam x male reader

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littleoddwriter · 5 months

Note

Hey I saw you're requests were open so I thought I'd give it a shot. I been a fan of your writing for years asspecialy roman x male reader.

So I was wondering if you could do roman sionis x male reader, who copes with life with starving himself and using drugs.

I completely understand if that's a lot and if you don't feel comfortable writing it for any reason whatsoever I more than understand. Please put you're well being first please. You're writing has always been a big comfort to me and tge past few months haven't been the easiest and yeah 😅

Keep up the amazing work and remember to take care of yourself, I'm really sorry if this was uncomfortable to read or has waisted your time

Coping | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Hey there! Thank you so much, first of all!!! That really means a lot to me, so, thank you! And thank you for your request and trusting me with something so personal. I hope the story I wrote for it can give you some comfort and that I've done your request justice. Please stay strong and keep on going. I'm happy you're here and I hope things will get better for you! <3 Take care! <3 summary; See above. notes; Male!Reader; Implied Past Traumas; Mentioned Drug Abuse (Cocaine & Heroin); Mentioned Disordered Eating Habits; Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms; Emotional Hurt/Comfort.

Having been dealt a pretty bad hand in life, you have developed unhealthy and self-destructive coping mechanisms to get through your days. Rationally, and always in the back of your mind, you knew that what you were doing to cope with the negativity and difficulties in your life, you only made things worse.

Starving yourself didn’t make your issues go away, and neither did the drugs. Of course not. But substance abuse has given you those much needed breaks from your own mind and the bullshit you had to deal with day in and out. Not eating - or rather, very rarely - was mostly a form of self-punishment. A method you’ve learned early in your life.

After meeting Roman, things had been going well for a little while. You ate pretty often because of your dinner dates with the other man; although your portions were fairly small. And you did lines of cocaine with Roman together, which definitely made it seem like it wasn’t so bad after all.

You’ve been feeling pretty happy when you were with him. That was new. You liked it. And you definitely liked him.

Deep down, you knew it wouldn’t last though. This natural high of being with Roman.

It only took one new traumatic experience, which was a painful reminder of your terrible past, to let everything crash down and burn.

When you met with Roman and he wanted to have a meal with you, you refused. You said that you weren’t hungry and he accepted it after a small fight. He hated not having his way, but he also knew when to let go. At least, he did with you.

But the more often it occurred, the more suspicious he became.

The next time you saw him, it was unexpected. You had just done a shot of heroin before he barged into your small, dirty apartment.

“I hate being played with, Y/N,” Roman stated angrily, uncaring of the fact that he had just crashed your high.

You simply looked at him with heavy eyelids, trying hard to focus on him standing in front of and above you as you were slumped on your worn-down couch.

Frowning, Roman snapped his gloved fingers in front of your face, “Are you not listening to me?”

As he asked this, you made a small sound in the back of your throat, humming softly in acknowledgment.

“What’s your problem?” you responded eventually, rubbing your hands over your scruffy face.

Roman fixed you with a piercing glare, sniffing in disdain, “You are.”

That woke you up a little, as though somebody had poured a bucket of ice water over your head.

“What do you mean?” you asked dumbfounded.

“The fact that you’ve been fucking avoiding me! You keep standing me up when I want to meet you. We haven’t even fucked in a while,” Roman huffs with annoyance, “If you don’t want to see me anymore, then just fucking say so, but don’t you fucking dare lead me on!”

Sitting up straight, you held up your hands in a placating manner.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you rushed the words out, “Roman, no. I don’t… Fuck…”

With a deep sigh, you put your head into your hands, scratching your scalp in frustration.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m not leading you on, I promise!” you said urgently, looking back up at Roman with pleading, bloodshot eyes.

As suddenly as his anger usually appears, the fight left Roman’s body and he sat down next to you on your couch. He was trying hard not to make a comment about the state of your apartment, let alone your couch, or you, but you could see the disgust in his features before he schooled his expression.

“Then what’s going on with you?” Roman asked in a surprisingly soft voice. You could even detect a hint of vulnerability in it.

For a long moment, you simply looked at him and debated with yourself. Should you tell him the truth? Would he leave you if he knew how broken you really were?

The longer your gaze held his, you felt your resolve break until you broke down in tears as all of your repressed feelings suddenly came to overwhelm you.

It took Roman a few seconds to act, but he put his arms around you and pulled you close at last. He didn’t say anything and just let you cry into his shoulder. He would probably make you pay for his ruined suit jacket one way or another, but that would be a problem for you in the future. And maybe it didn’t matter as much to him now anyway.

Through your pained sobs and stinging tears, you explained it to Roman. You told him about your traumatic past, your coping mechanisms, your current situation that led to you neglecting your relationship with him. All of it spilled out of you without a way of stopping it.

When you were slowly calming down, Roman kept his arms around you and rubbed your back soothingly.

“Well, I didn’t expect that,” Roman mused, “but I’m glad you’re not fucking with me.”

Knowing Roman, this was as close as you’d get to any sort of response to what you just told him. It was also the closest thing to reassurance from him. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t scream at you. He simply held you close and comforted you in his own way.

“We’ll have to find you some better coping mechanisms, though. And stop punishing yourself by not eating for fuck’s sake!” Roman continued after a few long moments. It made you smile weakly.

“I’ll try,” you responded hoarsely.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘I’ll try’, my fucking ass. You’re going to move in with me and I’ll watch you eat a full meal at least once a day. Got it?”

There it was. Roman’s way of showing that he actually cared.

For a minute or so, you were so stunned by his, well, demand, that you completely forgot to respond, until he nudged you with a huff, “Got it?”

Weakly, you nodded, “Yea- yes, okay. Sounds good.”

“Good,” he smiled brightly. “Because remember, you’re my boy now and I like to take care of my things.”

#it's been way too long since I've written a full short story so I hope this is good enough ^^'#roman sionis #male reader #roman sionis x male reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jesse.writes

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

Ask Me Why So Many Fade, but I'm Still Here - Roman Sionis Imagine (Birds of Prey)

Title: Ask Me Why So Many Fade, but I'm Still Here

Pairing: Roman Sionis X Reader

Based On: Karma

Word Count: 1,222 words

Warning(s): violence, mention of criminal activity

Summary: Roman never seemed to comprehend that you can only push someone so close to the edge before they snap. Play with your food, you give it a chance to bite back.

Author's Note: *whispering* Hey, hey... did you catch that Hannibal reference in the summary? Did you like it?

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE

------------------------

Gotham was a city almost constantly on the verge of collapse.

A city crumbling to its very core meant that you had to take careful, calculated steps to avoid falling off the edge.

A delicate game.

I had spent my entire life learning exactly how to survive in Gotham City. Not just survive but thrive.

I played the game well.

The biggest obstacle in my game was one man. Roman Sionis.

He was ambitious. I admired that. That's why I gave him a second chance when his first deal almost sent my profits into the shitter.

His second deal didn't do much better.

All it did was make my blood boil and my mind race with possibilities.

I went to see Roman in his club.

It was... an interesting place.

Not a place where I liked to spend my time.

I walked up to the table Roman was sitting at with some group of people. I didn't know or recognize any of them. But I didn't really care to. I tapped the table.

"Roman," I grinned.

"(Y/n)," he cheered. "Pleasure to see you! Sit, drink!"

"Actually, I'm here to talk," I replied. "Can we go somewhere quiet?"

"Oh, you can discuss anything out here."

"Roman," I said sternly. "Quiet?"

"Fine, fine."

He managed to pull himself out of the booth. We walked toward the back of the building to a secluded room. I looked around as Roman shut the door.

It was what one would expect from a room in Roman's club. Red walls, low lighting, kind of strange artwork. I almost rolled my eyes at it. I wondered how much money he had wasted on a room like this.

"What did we need to discuss," he asked, walking by me. He went to grab us each a drink.

"Our deal," I explained. "You screwed me over, Roman."

"Oh, please, I'm sure it's fine," he waved me off. "I gave you a good deal."

"Bullshit," I snapped. "The only reason I'm still standing is because I saved myself. You tried to ruin me."

"Quite the accusation-"

"After two bad deals, you expect something different," I raised an eyebrow. "Roman, you are going to screw yourself over if you continue making deals like that."

He glared at me.

"I'm trying to be helpful. Understanding. I've been in this city a long time."

No response.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm expecting my money back. If you don't pay, then-"

Roman cut me off by pulling out a gun and aiming it at my head. I closed my eyes for a moment. Roman wouldn't shoot me himself. He would despise the mess.

"If you've been here for so long, then you can understand the danger of threatening someone like me on their own turf."

I sighed before pushing the gun away. "I wasn't threatening you."

He glared at me.

"Good luck, Roman," I said. "I hope you end up okay."

"Get out of my club."

I smiled at him before turning around and heading out.

The next few weeks were quiet.

I was rebuilding.

I was researching and working and making plans. It was like resetting the foundation. Making everything stronger. Leaving less room for rotten deals to make it in and make an impact if they somehow did.

It was very beneficial.

I made some amazing moves for myself and my group.

But, of course, no period of peace could last forever.

"(Y/n)!"

I sighed at the sound of Roman's voice. I handed the clipboard in my hands over to the man I had been talking to before turning my attention to Roman.

"Roman," I said, walking over to meet him in the middle of the room. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"My club just got ambushed," he snapped. "The whole place is trashed. Most of my men are missing. I was lucky that I was out on a job when it happened, they have no idea where I am."

"Why should this concern me," I asked.

"I need resources to get out of Gotham for a little bit," he explained. "Regroup, get my men back, get my money back."

I sighed. "Roman... why would I help you?"

"We're partners. We work together."

"Every deal I have made with you has almost screwed me over. I was simply smart enough to know how to save my own ass. You have cost me a lot, Roman."

"Oh, come on-"

"And when I came to get my money, you thought it was a good idea to pull a gun on me."

He rolled his eyes.

"Tell me, Romie," I grinned at the glare I received for the nickname. "Are your men missing or did they resign?"

"What?"

"I just heard that they may have gotten a better opportunity. Better pay. A boss that can truly think through every consequence of their actions."

He didn't respond.

I stepped forward, leaning in so I could whisper in his ear, "Look around you, Romie."

He quickly did a circle, staring at the faces of the men around us.

I stepped back again. "I guess it really wasn't that hard to convince people that your leadership was... flawed."

"You son of bitch-"

"Language, Romie!"

He paused.

"Search him."

One person stepped forward and got all of Roman's weapons.

"It wasn't that difficult. I didn't have to do much convincing. Apparently, deals you've made haven't benefitted any of the men working with you."

I held out my hand to one of the men, quietly asking for the bat in his hand. He gave it to me. I admired it for a moment. The look on Roman's face was enough to tell me that he was realizing the situation he was in.

"I grew up in this city," I explained. "I saw it through so many transformations. I understand the beating heart of this city."

I stepped forward, tapping the bat against Roman's chest.

"I could've helped you," I continued. "I could've kept you from drowning. Protected you and taught you. You could've been part of Gotham's elite. If had just been smart enough to not screw me over."

His jaw clenched.

"But, hey, can't change the past," I shrugged as took a few steps back. "So, I just watched. You screwed yourself, Romie. That's how you ended up here. I need you to know that. I'm not saying I'm a god or the devil... I'm merely the one you're going to face on judgment day."

One of the men kicked the back of Roman's knee, causing him to fall to the ground in front of me.

I used the end of the bat to tilt his chin up. "Beg."

"For what," he asked. "Your forgiveness?"

"Oh, no... you lost any chance of that a long, long time ago," I shook my head.

I stepped back and twirled the bat in my hand before preparing to swing. I let it gently touch Roman's temple as I lined up my shot.

"I want you to beg for mercy," I instructed. "If you're lucky, I'll just kill you... if you aren't, well... don't wanna spoil the fun."

He stared at me silently.

"Your choice," I shrugged.

"(Y/n), wait-"

"Nighty-night, Romie."

I brought my arms up before taking a swing at him.

And I smiled.

Never had there been a more satisfying sound.

------------------------

Author's Note: Villain!readers are so much fun!!

------------------------

Navigation Guide

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#roman sionis imagine #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis x reader #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey fanfiction #birds of prey x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfiction #dc x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #ewan mcgregor imagine #ewan mcgregor x reader

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stardancerluv · 2 years

Text

A Night Out, Club 44

Part 5

Summary: part of a night being Roman’s girl.

Warning: None.

Glancing over, your heart took a pace that made you practically breathless. You didn’t, you couldn’t be wrong.

You sized up all the men who were close to Falcone. That’s when you dedicate a slight unevenness in the one goon’s walk. You swallowed, you were not entirely sure why but the dirty smell of his gloves filled your nose from when he covered your mouth.

You met Roman’s eyes. Even in only the flickering of the candlelight you could see they were chips of ice.

“The big guy. He held me while Carmine touched me.” A tremble you couldn’t repress shook you.

“He’s dead.” It was a statement.

You blinked. “Roman, I…I don’t want you going to war because of me.”

A smiled curled up the one side of his face. “Crime is on an upswing. No one will miss him.”

You didn’t argue, nor in the end should you. She had never disagreed with him where it counted. You would not start now. When Roman set his mind to something he kept it. It was already done.

“Should I head back to the penthouse?” Under the table you crossed and uncrossed your feet at your ankles. You exhaled when you felt Roman’s hand squeeze your thigh.

“I am not letting any of them chase my girl away.” His eyes flicked to you the back to room around the two of you.

You nodded and gave a smile. “I’m glad I’m your girl.”

A shadow of a smile appeared on his face.

******

You nudged Roman later. “She distracted Carmine and the others.”

“I had an inclination.”

You stirred your drink. “Will Carmine get mad at her?”

He pressed his lips together. “Possibly.”

You inhaled.

“Carmine, is not stupid enough to hurt a girl seeing the assistant DA.”

You shifted your eyes to him.

“She’s a stupid little girl. Carmine has others on his mind.”

“Like me.” Your heart lurched.

“Only because of me.” His lips curled to one side. “But he’ll see what that will get him.” His gloved fingers came over your wrist, over the bracelet. “Nothing for you to worry about.” His thumb ran over the charm.

******

The rain pelted at the car, harder then it had earlier.

“So Penguin’s place has gotten nicer since he first opened it.” Roman finally remarked after some silence.

You smiled. “At least it doesn’t still smell like fish.”

Roman, laughed at that. It was from deep with it. Since he had taken and tucked away his shades, you could also see that it reached his eyes.

“That is a perk, it had been a bit from a turn off.”

You nodded. “Hard to work with that smell.”

His smile turned into a smirk. “I can only imagine. I always worry he’ll bring that smell with him when he comes to my place.”

******

Victor backed into the alley. The rolls came to a stop by the backdoor. “Go up to the penthouse, relax and I’ll be back later.”

You swallowed. “You sure you want to me to stay.”

He rose an eyebrow. “Why shouldn’t I?”

You moved hour head from side to aide before shaking your head. “I’m being silly.” You smiled. “I’ll see you upstairs.” You leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss.

“That’s my girl.” The smile appeared and stayed.

@xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @nebulastarr @zodiyack @angel98624 @emyliabernstein @itsknife2meetu @vcat55 @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @feelthemadnessinside @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @chogisss @xxinvisiblexx @shantellorraine @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @dogmatic255 @bdffkierenwalker @hase-hoe @theredmage13 @nanagoswife

#ewan mcgregor #fem!reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #ewan mcgregor x reader #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x y/n #black mask #black mask x reader #black mask x y/n #black mask x you #a night out #club 44 #part 5 #roman sionis fanfiction #black mask fanfiction

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

Text

DC Masterlist

🜹♡🜹 Roman Sionis 🜹♡🜹

Purple Rain Short Series ↴

Purple Rain

⤷ Roman Sionis X GN Reader - Fluff - 4.5k

Love Potion

⤷ Roman Sionis X GN Reader - Fluff - 2.3k

—

🜹♡🜹 Victor Zsasz 🜹♡🜹

Matching Scars

⤷ Victor Zsasz X GN Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.1k

🜹♡🜹 Heath Ledger Joker🜹♡🜹

Just Like Fire

⤷ Heath Ledger Joker X GN Reader - Fluff, Mini Angst - 246

Strange

⤷ Heath Ledger Joker X GN Reader - Fluff and Mini Angst - 1.1k

Almost Eye To Eye

⤷ Heath Ledger Joker X GN (Tall) Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.1k

Broken Glass On The Floor

⤷ Heath Ledger Joker X GN Reader - Fluff and Angst - 2.5k

🜹♡🜹 Bruce Wayne 🜹♡🜹

Late Night Secrets

⤷ Pattinson Bruce Wayne X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 1.8k

Red And Black

⤷ Pattinson Bruce Wayne X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 2.2k

Distracted

⤷ Bale Bruce Wayne X Female Reader - Fluff - 1.2k

🜹♡🜹 Bane 🜹♡🜹

So Much Pain

⤷ Bane X Female Reader - Fluff and Slight Angst - 2.4k

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lacontroller1991 · 1 year

Text

IN HONOR OF IT BEING EWAN’S BIRTHDAY HERES A SNIPPET OF MY RICK FLAG x READER X ROMAN SIONIS::::

The penthouse is larger than you were expecting and it’s honestly - nice. Looking around, you eye various different masks and statues with an amused snort as Roman comes up behind you, a tablet in his hand. “Well Roman, this is certainly impressive. I wasn’t expecting your place to look like this.”

“Yes, I like to have antiques. They bring me a sort of happiness in a way.” You continue to walk around with him not far behind you, eyes glowering at you. “So, why don’t you tell me who you really are, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Got your henchmen to figure that one out?” You roll your eyes, turning to face him. Even though he’s incredibly dangerous, you have a feeling that he won’t hurt you unless provoked. Eyeing you, he takes another step forward, a gloved hand reaching up and pushing back your hair, revealing the comm resting in the crevice of your ear.

“Why don’t we get rid of these pests in your ear?” He pulls out the device and drops it to the floor, using the heel of his shoe to crush it causing you to gulp. If you needed any back up, it just fell to the floor, crushed into bits. You suppose you’re on your own now. “Now, that’s much better.” He takes a seat on his couch, patting his lap for you to sit on. Raising a brow, you obey his command and gently place yourself onto his lap, undoubtedly feeling his hard on, making your legs involuntarily clench together.“I’m going to ask you this one more time. Who are you?”

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS AND HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY EWAN

#roman sionis x reader #Rick flag x reader #ewan mcgregor #joel kinnaman #rick flag #roman sionis #dceu #birds of prey #rick flag x you #black mask

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

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Thinking about the way the Gotham Bunch would react when they find out about [name] and Jim's behind the wall make out session, or when they find out about that time [name] became Maggie's mommy 😏

I can imagine Maggie's braincells getting fried when she finds out about [name] and Jim's behind the wall affair, or Oliver's reaction with [name] and Maggie.

Oliver would feel so betrayed tho- like fr.

He'd be like "I trusted you with my baby sis and you went to second base with her?!"

Basil would short circuit, "But I thought, I-i thought! Omg, oh no, does this count as incest?! My kinda like sister made out with my mom! Wait a sec- did she call you mommy too?! I can never use that word with you anymore not knowing what else happened between you and Maggie" poor baby

Oswald would just shriek in both [name] x Jim and [name] x Mags.

Riddle-Ed and Barbs would just be sitting in a corner like:

But being low-key proud

And Harvey, ohhh Harvey

He could never look at Him again, he would be like, "I have known [name] since she was a kid Jim, a kid! She was like those pickles in sandwiches mothers make, you never ask for them, you never wanted them, but they're there, and they're there to stay! She was like a rebellious nice that keep reminding you how old you are at family reunions Jim! She's sorta, kinda, like family, and you did that with her?! Shame on you!"

and Jim is like "But Maggie-"

"You're to much of a pussy, so someone had to do something, and [name] just so happened to be that someone! Suck it up" Harvey would say.

I'd really like your thoughts on these hehe 😅

Oh no, Oliver is NOT allowed to find out about Y/N and Maggie. He would lose his shit, and she’s be dragged out of Gotham and locked in the house. Thea would hate it too. She only wants what’s best for her older sister.

Maggie would defend the both fo them by explaining that their relationship wasn’t fully defined at that time. She didn’t see her as a mother figure quite yet. And the fact that they were both heavily in hard drugs at the time when it happened, and it was only the once.

I feel like that wouldn’t comfort Basil or Oliver though, knowing that Maggie took something. They would expect as much from Y/N, but out of all the Gothamites, Maggie is viewed as one of the most innocent. Lien even the bad shit she’s done is nothing compared to what most of them have done. Even though Basil is younger, he’s a boy so they view him as more responsible. Maggie’s just a little baby to them, why would she do drugs.

I think Oliver would drag her back home for that too. He’s already lost so much, he can’t lose one of the two family members he has left. Harvey panicking about Y/N and Jim is really funny. Poor Uncle Harvey has his hands full with the “Zsasz family” 😂 he can never catch a break. I don’t know if he’d me more shocked about Jim and Y/N or Maggie and Y/N. He’d probably have a heart attack, poor thing.

I wonder how Oliver and Thea would feel about Butch and Tabitha. Maggie actually started to have feeling for the two of them before Ivy forced her to push them away. Also he would flip out if he found out Maggie slept with Roman Sionis, to help Oswald with a deal to run the underground. He’d probably yell at Oz for “pimping out” his little sister.

Oliver wants her to be free and have her own independence, but he knows the truth about what happened to her when she was little. He’s so worried about that little girl coming back and being scared, and hurting people again. And he would blame himself if she did. He’s just very overprotective.

#Maggie #magnolia blossom #Gotham #gotham imagine #Gotham oc #flay <3

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thebeckyjolene · 1 year

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I posted 119 times in 2022

18 posts created (15%)

101 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stardancerluv

@bradshawsbaby

@terrence-silver

@micheleamidalajedi

@thebeckyjolene

I tagged 6 of my posts in 2022

#doctor sleep - 2 posts

#dan torrance x reader - 2 posts

#birds of prey - 1 post

#roman sionis x reader - 1 post

#ewan mcgregor - 1 post

#alex law x reader - 1 post

#shallow grave - 1 post

#2000 posts - 1 post

#tumblr milestone - 1 post

#top gun maverick - 1 post

Longest Tag: 21 characters

#roman sionis x reader

My Top Posts in 2022:

Can I Have A Dan Torrance x Reader Where They Have Been Together And Come Back From The Overlook And They Show Each Other Their Scars And Make Love And It's Fluff

Of course! I'll do it!

2 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

@stardancerluv

See the full post

2 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

Sweet Love

Requested by the ever so awesome @micheleamidalajedi! I hope you enjoy this!

Have you ever been to Hell?

Well, my husband Dan and I survived the hell that was called the Overlook Hotel. After defeating Rose the Hat, the last surviving member of The True Knot, Dan had an injury in his leg from the axe hitting his upper leg. I was definitely limping around after being thrown down the stairs and landing really hard on my left foot and ankle.

Once we safely returned Abra home to her mom, Dan and I returned to our quaint cottage outside of town to recuperate from our injuries. I had ended up in a blue cast up half of my leg, due to finding out at the hospital that I broke my foot and sprained my ankle badly. Dan was able to get his leg taken care of and was told to take it easy.

We had some scars from our battle at the Overlook that we both earned and took like a champ. I had a real bad scar from my right temple down to my cheek. Dan had some minor scars among his face along with the smoke from the fire after trying to help me out.

'' Dan, I love you so, so much. I'm happy that we survived that hell. I love you, Mr. Torrance.'' I had told Dan before I hugged him and decided to start kissing him.

'' Y/N, I lo-'' Dan had started to say before I started kissing him deeply more and more before our make out session started getting heavier and heavier.

Before we knew it, Dan and I started to make sweet, passionate love to one another, just like it was our wedding night all over again.

Little did we know that new life was created from this night of passion, but that is for another time and place.

7 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Reunited

Made for the ever so awesome, @micheleamidalajedi. This is for you, my dear!

It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation between myself and my husband, Alex. I work as a registered nurse at a hospital while Alex is still a reporter back in Edinburgh. For our wedding anniversary, we traveled to Thailand for our vacation. Until one of the most devastating events happened, the dreadful tsunami.

With my medical background, I volunteered my time to help the local hospitals and tend to the people that were affected by this natural disaster event. Of course. my heart thought of my beloved Alex, and my heart ached to be within his arms once again. Little did I know, that he was a hero in his own right, rescuing a little girl who was swept up in the water and survived the ordeal until Alex had rescued her.

I was working in the emergency room, when I heard someone shouting that someone needed help. It was Alex! He was carrying the little girl in his arms, who was clinging to Alex and not wanting to let go.

' Oh Alex! I thought that I would never see you again! Oh, I'm so happy to see you.' I cried as I embraced my husband like my life depended on it.

' It's so good to see you my love. Never ever leave me again, my dear. I could not stand to be without you a minute longer.' Alex said as he kissed me soundly before hugging me some more.

Next time, let's hope that we go somewhere where it is peaceful.

11 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

From A Damsel to A Queen

Looking out into Gotham Cathedral from the bridal suite, I was mentally preparing myself for the wedding between myself and Roman Sionis. We first met when I had accidentally bumped into Roman at his club, The Black Mask. I profusely apologized to him about it, and he took my many apologies. We sat around for the longest time talking about anything and everything, and including meeting Roman's right-hand man, Victor Zsasz, who I found to be quite like a brother figure to me.

From that night on, Roman and I really hit it off well. We had so many dinner dates, dates at his club, lunch dates, and anything in between. I felt myself falling for Roman more and more each day. I was truly falling in love. Then, on my 27th birthday, Roman proposed to me in front of everyone at the Black Mask Club. I accepted of course, now that I was set to become the future Mrs. Rebecca Sionis.

But today, is one of the most important days of my life. It's my wedding day and I'm marrying the love of my life. I'm literally pacing around, beginning to freak the hell out. I make my way to the door, where Victor is standing outside of.

''Victor, could you please get me Roman? I'm begging you. I'm beginning to have a meltdown and I need to at least hear his voice. Please, my dearest friend!'' I began to cry before shutting the door and walking over to the vanity to cry my eyes out.

A few moments pass, and I hear the knocking on the door. ''Come in!'' I cry out before I began to cry again. In an instant, I felt warm hands on my upper arms. It was Roman, who had a tissue in his hand for me.

See the full post

28 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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littleredwing89 · 1 year

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PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 5

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. NSFW Smut. Degrading language. Slight semi-public smut. Slight bondage.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! :) apologies for no tag list, still trying to get it working and get back into the swing of things xoxo

——

Jason was strangely silent as you both walked into the building together. You noticed he kept fiddling with his tie, tugging on it every so often. A tick you’d come to realise as nervousness. You didn’t say anything, simply following him into the executive elevator.

As the mirrored doors of the elevator closed in front of you both, Jason let out a deep sigh before turning to you, “I need you to look over some files for me when we get to my office, it’s a new deal I’m about to broker - linking us up with an exclusive company in the city”.

“Oh? With who?”, you raised an eyebrow in suspicion, “Was this the secret meeting you had last week?”.

Jason nodded briefly, hands tugging on his scarlet tie again, “Sionis Distilleries Ltd”.

You let out a sharp, piercing laugh, “You’re joking right?”.

He looked confused for a moment, “Why would it be a joke?”, he frowned deeply, his voice taking a more clinical tone, “Roman has been wanting to do business with me for years and we finally sat down to discuss it. He had some fantastic ideas”.

“And you fell for his lies covered by sweet talk?”.

“It's an excellent deal, why would I turn it down?”, he shifted on the spot, resting back against the banister of the elevator.

“You think it's an excellent deal? Are you mad? Do you want me to enumerate how this will bite us in the ass in the long run”, you felt your temper boiling in your stomach. How could Jason be this naive? How had his company lasted this long with him in charge? Your brow knitted in irritation the longer you thought about it.

“I-”.

You cut over him, not wanting to hear his ridiculous argument, “Sionis Distilleries Ltd has been investigated by the GCPD three times in the last 18 months Jason. Not to mention their newly appointed, chief of operations was arrested 3 months ago for drug trafficking. He’s probably going to get at least 10 years behind bars for that”, you took a deep breath before laughing dryly at him, “You’re forgetting all the black market coverage he has on alcohol trading too”.

“I—”, he tried again but you weren’t finished. Your anger spiralling further.

“Sionis is linked with the Gotham mafia for fucks sake!”, you exclaimed, cheeks tinting pink with frustration, “I even heard a rumour he’s the boss but no one can prove it…probably because he has dirty cops in his back pocket!”.

“But-”, Jason tried again.

“You honestly can’t think this is good for business Jason? I thought you weren’t stupid? Isn’t that what you told me?”.

Jason grunted, his cheeks becoming a deeper shade of red every time you spoke more, “I-”.

You waved your hand at him dismissively, “I thought better of you honestly, this is just madness”.

Jason felt the walls of the elevator closing. He heat radiating off you was stifling but erotic. He swallowed thickly, “Y/N … if you could just let me-”.

“No!”, you snapped and jabbed him in the chest hard, “You gave me a promotion and that means you gave me a voice and a voice I will use to tell you that you’re being a fucking moron! I bet Dick wouldn’t do this!”.

Yeah. That was a low blow but he needed it. God, he needed to see some sense.

You jumped, gasping softly as Jason slammed both his palms on either side of your head. His eyes were blown jet black and when your eyes dipped, you saw the front of his trousers were painfully tight. You bit down on your plush bottom lip, eyes becoming hooded at the growing tension rippling between you both.

“Oh? You’ve gone very quiet princess, you were pretty mouthy a moment ago”, the deep timber of his voice rattled your spine.

You glared up at his towering form, your anger flaring, “Oh I have more to say Todd!”, pressing both of your palms onto his chest you shoved hard.

Jason stood solid, as though you’d barely touched him. He smirked and pushed you up against the elevator wall, the bar pressing cold into your lower back.

“Go on, princess, I’m listening”, he moved one of his hands to your cheek, stroking over it slowly. Calculating his next move. Your breaths deepened as you tried to pull your mind back from his distracting touch. The strong scent of his cologne mixed with his own musk enveloped you as he ground his hips into yours, letting you feel just how excited you’d made him.

“Please tell me more about how my brother would do so much better”.

You knew if you opened your mouth, nothing coherent would come out. The temperature of the lift had shifted and you were on fire. His obvious jealousy a catalyst for the flames. Jason’s head ducked down to your ear and nipped your earlobe, “Turn around”.

Defying him, you stayed put, ignoring the shivers erupting over your skin. Jason smirked and littered more kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, “I won’t ask again princess, turn around…now”.

The sound of your heels clicking against the metal flooring was deafening as you complied with his order, turning your back to him. His heat and wide chest engulfed you and you purposely pressed your ass into his clothed cock, purring under your breath. Jason grunted and ground back against you. Preparing yourself, you pressed your hands on the mirror in front of you and he clicked his tongue.

“Hands on the bar”, he demanded roughly in your ear.

“Yes Sir”.

Slipping them slowly down the wall, you wrapped your delicate fingers around the banister of the elevator, the platinum bracelet on your wrist rattled against it. Jason had given it to you last week after your promotion, along with an evening in his bedroom.

He growled deeply and you could hear the sound of fabric whipping. His hands gripped yours suddenly and started weaving his red tie around your wrists. The material dug into your flesh as you struggled a little but you stopped when Jason bit down onto your exposed shoulder. You tipped your head back and groaned his name.

Once he was finished binding you, his fingers roughly shoved the hem of your skirt up over your ass, exposing the fact you were completely bare. He palmed your cheek roughly before slapping it harshly. The sound echoed in the tiny compartment.

“Nothing but a filthy little slut, aren’t you?”, he snarled, slapping your ass again, the sting sending a buzz of electricity over your skin. You whined and pushed back, aching for more of his punishment. He leaned back slightly to admire the red imprint blooming before kicking your legs wider apart. The elevator started to move and Jason jabbed something angrily on the pad, causing the lift to shudder to a stop, the lights dimming slightly.

“What are you - oh!”, you gasped loudly when his palm smacked over your pussy, the desire slick between your folds.

“Who are you to question me?”, he growled and his fingers roughly slipped through your dripping core. He groaned at how wet you were already. The elevator was filled with your needy moans and the wet sounds of your pussy.

“Look at yourself”, he mocked, his free hand forcing your face to look into the mirror at the side of you both, “Look how desperate you are for me already, practically gushing over my palm”. He thrust two fingers deep into your core, enjoying the way you shivered.

“Sir…please”, you pulled on your bindings, frustrated. Jason wasn’t giving you the pace you wanted. He was ignoring all of the sensitive areas you needed him to pleasure.

“Please what?”.

He smirked and slowed down the movement of his fingers before removing them completely, smearing your wetness over your sore ass cheek. Your eyes met his in the mirror as he unbuckled his belt quickly, freeing his cock from his pants. Immediately your gaze dropped to his shaft, licking your lips without thought. It throbbed, precum leaking down the head. He needed you just as much.

The moan that left your lips was loud and your ass pushed back quickly. You wanted him inside you now. You didn’t care how desperate you looked. Cheeks flush, skin slightly damp with sweat.

“Fuck me”, you begged, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

He stroked his hand along his length before coaxing the thick head between your folds. You sighed in delight. Jason ran the tip repeatedly through your lips, smearing your slick all over his cock.

“So fucking wet”, he grunted and without warning slid into you fully, bottoming out. He panted into your ear and you sobbed his name, pussy clenching around him.

“Such a tight little cunt”, he bit out and thrust into you sharply, pushing your face into the cold mirror in front of you. The cool feeling was welcome on your burning cheeks.

“You strut around my building like you own the place”, he growled, thrusting deeper, angling his hips to hit your g spot perfectly, “Everyone’s terrified of you, but look at you now”, his teeth grazed over your pulse point, “Nothing but a filthy little cock whore”.

He moved back slightly and grabbed your hips hard, enough to bruise and began to fuck into you with a brutal pace. The sound of his skin slapping against yours was sinful, bouncing off the tiny elevator walls.

You wanted to close your eyes and drown in the feeling of his thick cock driving you into delirium but watching the way his face contorted in the mirror as he fucked you was too tempting to miss. The way his cock was swallowed by your pussy greedily, like a movie in the reflection.

Jason cursed, voice strained and raspy. Your name left his lips as he drove faster. You cried his name, arching your back, meeting each of his thrusts. His cock stretched you perfectly, creating a delicious burn.

“You going to cum all over my cock, princess?”, his hand snaked around your front, flicking over your clit vigorously.

You lost the ability to form words, your mind too busy drowning in the euphoria bolting through your nerves. He thrust harder, his fingers winding into the back of your hair, creating a ponytail before yanking it backwards. The stings of pain shot down to your core, making you mewl louder.

“Cum now, fucking cum now”, he barked, grunting as his pace became sloppy. His cock was pulsing inside you and you knew he was close too.

Stars. You saw stars as your eyes shut when your orgasm hit. You came hard, sobbing his name. He followed, groaning huskily against the back of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning down your neck and spine as he shot his load deep into your pussy.

He pressed into you, his chest resting against your back. You could feel his heart hammering wildly, matching the rhythm of your own. Your hot breath blew out against the mirror, causing it to fog up. Jason’s lips pressed into the nape of your neck, travelling across your shoulder slowly.

“That’s one to tick off my list”, he murmured.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “You expect me to believe you’ve never fucked anyone in your own personal elevator?”.

He laughed and nipped the junction of your neck, the gasp you released made him flush, “Never had the opportunity princess”.

Stepping back, he looked down over your ass, smirking seeing some of his cum dripping on your inner thighs. He winked at you in the mirror before sliding your skirt back down over your lush ass.

He tucked himself away before zipping his trousers and buckling his belt back up. You looked at him expectantly in the mirror, wiggling your ass at him, “A little help Todd?”. You tugged at your hands helplessly, waiting for him.

“Sorry, I was just enjoying seeing you all tied up”.

Carefully, Jason loosened the tie from around your wrists, letting it slip free. You wiggled them slowly, allowing the circulation back into them, and to soothe the slight sting there. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing over the angry red marks gently. His tongue made you shiver as he worked over each one. The actions took you by surprise but you happily accepted it, closing your eyes peacefully.

“You’re right”, he murmured against your pulse, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

You frowned and your eyes flew open instantly, “Excuse me?”.

Jason chuckled at your reaction, pulling you a little closer to his chest, “You’re right about the deal with Sionis”.

“And an orgasm made you realise this?”, you couldn’t quite believe Jason had accepted that he was wrong.

He laughed and moved your arms to coil around his neck, his own hands settled on your waist, keeping you pressed up against him, “No”, he gave you a little smirk, “More the fact I’ve been dreading telling you about it all week, knowing you’d kick my ass about it”.

“Of course I would, it’s a fucking ridiculous idea”, your nails found the hair at the back of his neck and began to scratch along it in a practised gesture. Instinctively he closed his eyes and leaned into you.

“I didn’t mean what I said about Dick…I’m sor-”.

“Ah don’t worry about it, it’s fine princess”, he ran his nose along yours and gave a genuine smile, “You can help me come up with a creative way of saying no when we get to my office”.

His voice was gravelly as he spoke, his lips brushing over your forehead. Eyes still closed.

“I guess ‘Fuck No’ isn’t allowed?”.

He laughed loudly and his eyes opened to meet yours, glistening in the neon lights of the elevator, “We may have to be slightly more professional than that princess”.

--------------

MY KOFI ACCOUNT - any support is greatly, greatly appreciated :) xx

#ceo!jason Todd x reader #ceo!jason todd x reader insert #ceo!jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader insert #jason todd imagine #red hood fanfiction #red hood smut #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x reader insert #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader au series

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