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You pull up to Mr. Barnes' house. Your car is rattling louder than usual. Probably the heavy foot you had when rushing Becca to the hospital.
You get out of the car and yawn into your sleeve. You didn't even change your pajama shirt. Just switched out for jeans and shuffled out in your sneakers. Your purse spilled as you head toward the house. You stop to scoop the clutter back into the knitted slouch bag.
You scuttle up to the front door and ring the bell. A voice comes from the speaker.
"It's unlocked." Barnes states.
You don't respond. You know he's not listening. You're not entirely sure why you're here, even if Becca's asking for you.
You take your shoes off. You forgot once. Never again. You rarely forget anything Mr. Barnes tells you not to do.
You go upstairs to Becca's room. You peek inside as you hear her coughing. She groans as Barnes hushes her softly.
"Bec, have something to drink." He coaxes.
You hear her slurping. You step into the doorway and watch. He looks over his shoulder.
"Took you long enough," he says.
"I brought tea and honey." You offer.
Becca coughs and chokes. Bucky pulls the glass of water away. You rush to her without a thought.
You get on her other side and rub her back. She hacks and spits up onto your shirt. You flinch at the splat of bile.
"I-I-" she sputters.
"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, honey. Relax. Okay? Remember the doctor said that's good. You gotta cough it out." You look around. "Any tissues?"
Barnes stands. "One second."
He goes and you reach behind Becca to adjust her pillows. "You should sit up," you help her up higher. "Better."
She nods and closes her eyes. You slip your bag off your shoulder and quickly pop up to put it in the fluffy chair in the corner. You return to her and take her hand.
"Did your daddy give you any of that grape drink?" You ask.
"Not yet," Barnes enters behind you and sets the box of tissues on the night stand. You take one and wipe Becca's face.
"Just checking. She needs to stay hydrated."
"Got it," Barnes snips.
You nod and stay quiet. He backs away.
"Tea?" He asks.
"In my bag." You say as you crumpled the tissue.
He snatches up your bag. "You should change. It'll smell soon."
You frown then look down at your shirt. Oh yeah. You smile at Becca.
"You okay?" You ask.
She nods. "Yes... You're here."
You give a bittersweet smile and rub her arm. You stand slowly, reluctantly, and leave her.
You follow Barnes out of the room. "There," he points to the railing where a tee shirt is draped over it.
You pull off yours without a thought and he coughs. He turns around quickly. Shoot. You're tired. You pull on the dark tee and sniff.
"Uh, thanks." You say.
"It's a shirt," he mutters.
He stalks away. You watch him go downstairs. He seems agitated by your presence alone.
You go to the bathroom just across the hall and rinse the shirt. You hang it to dry over the edge of the tub. You return to Becca. You gently sit on the edge of the bed as her eyes stay shut.
“Daddy’s just worried,” she startles you as she whispers. “He never likes to say it.”
“I’m sure he is but you’re going to be okay,” you touch her hand gently.
“I know… I…” her head lolls and she takes a deep breath. It brings on another coughing fit. You rub her chest to soothe her through it. She smiles. “I wanted you here because… he needs someone to take care of him too.”
You nod. You don’t know what to say.
“Hey,” Barnes’s voice comes up the stairs.
You get up and squeeze Becca’s shoulder. You go to look down the stairs at him. “Tea.” He states plainly.
You go down. “Oh, yeah, uh…” he steps back as you get to the bottom and flit by him. “I thought I packed the strainer.”
He follows you at a pace as you rush into the kitchen. Your bag is on the counter. The tea and honey are next to the kettle. You fish out the tea ball and pop it open. You pour the herbs inside.
As you pour the hot water in the mug, you hear a crinkling. You set the kettle down and look at Mr. Barnes. He has a receipt in his hand.
“I have insurance,” he says.
“Um, yeah… covered the visit but not the meds.” You explain. “Sorry, I–”
“Didn’t say anything,” he sniffs. “What? You think I’m cheap? I don’t pay you enough?”
You wince. “No, sir. I just wasn’t thinking about that. I was worried about Becca.”
He tilts his head then nods. You turn back to the tea and tug the chain on the ball. You dip it several times as the water changes hue.
When it’s steeped, you stir in honey. You shift to dump out the used tea and rinse the ball and spoon in the sink. Mr. Barnes takes the mug.
“I didn’t sleep.” He says. “I’ll pay you time and a half if you let me get a couple hours.”
“Sure,” you utter. “Sorry.”
He backs away. “Wake me up if she gets worse. Got it?”
Been sitting on this monster since I first started this account a month ago. 🕯️ It’s a bit of a darker Klamille AU—specifically the kind where Cami is way out of her depth and has no idea that the man in front of her isn't exactly... human. There are about 13 chapters in the vault, so if anyone actually likes this, let me know and I’ll post the rest? 😅"
Update: I am now posting the rest to Tumblr
Chapter 2
Chapter 1: The Weight of a Stare
The humidity in New Orleans had a way of clinging to the skin like a second thought. Inside Rousseau’s, the overhead fans did little more than move the heavy, jasmine-scented air around the room. Camille O’Connell sat at the far end of the bar, surrounded by a fortress of textbooks and a lukewarm coffee.
She was trying to focus on the "Abnormal Psychology" chapter on her lap, but she could feel a gaze on her. It wasn't the usual wandering eye of a tourist; it was heavy, stationary, and uncomfortably intentional.
Cami looked up.
He was sitting in a booth tucked into the deepest shadows of the bar. He looked like he belonged to the building itself—timeless, still, and dangerously out of place. He wore a dark jacket, his golden-brown hair messy, and his hands were wrapped around a glass of amber liquid he hadn't touched.
Cami tried to go back to her book, but the feeling of being watched was like a physical itch. After ten minutes, her patience snapped. She wasn't the type to be intimidated, and she certainly wasn't the type to ignore a problem.
She gathered her notes and walked over to the booth.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Cami asked, her voice steady. "Or is staring at strangers a hobby of yours?"
The man didn't startle. He slowly lifted his head, and Cami was struck by the intensity of his eyes—a shade of blue that looked like the center of a flame.
"I was wondering," he said, his voice a low, melodic grate with a British lilt, "what could possibly be so fascinating in that book that you’ve managed to ignore the rest of the world for an hour."
"It’s a study on the human mind," Cami replied, sliding into the seat opposite him without waiting for an invitation. "Something tells me you’d find it judgmental."
Klaus smirked, a slow, lazy movement that dimpled one cheek. "I find most things judgmental, love. It’s the primary occupation of the boring. I’m Klaus."
"Cami," she said, looking him over. He was handsome, undeniably so, but there was a volatility in the way he sat—like a spring coiled too tight. "And for the record, it’s not boring. It’s an attempt to understand why people do the things they do. Why they’re cruel, why they’re lonely, why they hide in dark bars."
Klaus’s expression shifted. The playfulness vanished, replaced by a sudden, sharp coldness. "You think you can summarize a soul by reading a few chapters of clinical observations? That’s remarkably arrogant."
"I think I can recognize a man who’s trying very hard to look like he doesn't want to be noticed while sitting in the most conspicuous spot in the room," Cami countered.
Klaus leaned forward, his personal space vanishing. He was being a jerk—dismissive and high-handed—yet Cami felt a jolt of electricity at the proximity. He smelled of sandalwood and something sharp, like ozone before a storm.
"You’re clever," Klaus murmured, his mood swinging back toward a dark, magnetic curiosity. "But cleverness can be a shield. What are you hiding behind all those books, Cami? A broken heart? Or just a fear of your own nature?"
Cami’s breath hitched. It was a manipulative question, designed to put her on the defensive. She didn't like the way he seemed to be trying to flip the script on her.
"I'm not hiding anything," she said, standing up. "But you’re clearly looking for a fight or a fan, and I’m not interested in being either. Enjoy your drink, Klaus."
She walked away, her heart hammering against her ribs. She could feel his eyes on her back the entire way to the door. He was an asshole—moody, judgmental, and clearly used to getting his way—but as she stepped out into the night, the air felt strangely empty without his presence.
Inside the bar, Klaus watched her go. He didn't move. He didn't blink. He just watched the door as if he could see through the wood.
"She’s a feisty one," a voice said from the shadows behind him.
Klaus didn't look at his brother. He just traced the rim of his glass. "She thinks she can see what’s inside of me, Elijah. I think I’ll enjoy proving her wrong."
Summary: After making an impression on y/n and driving her home, Natasha and y/n started making out and are now taking it upstairs to y/n's apartment.
This is pretty much just smut. So, minors do not interact.
Contains: explicit smut; TopNat; rough-ish sex; all consensual; eating out; fingering; a hint of praise; bit of boob play; making out
Word count: 4.2 k
---------Minors do not interact!!!-------------------------
Pov Nat
We barely make it up the stairs and to her apartment before I press her up against the wall and kiss her. She makes a sound at the back of her throat that fuels my needs for her and I slide my hands over her sides and underneath her shirt. The skin there is warm and soft and instantly makes me crave more. I deepen the kiss and press her more against the wall, slotting my knee between her thighs and pushing it up.
Y/n gasps into my mouth and it's such a hot sound, it drives me a little wild. Her hands claw at my jacket, holding on tightly as if there was any chance of her sliding down that wall. I press kisses along her jaw, pulling her hips towards me, guiding her to grind against my knee. She whimpers softly, clutching my jacket and tilting her head back.
Not so talkative now, it seems.
I always win challenges.
Her attempt to shrug off the leather jacket fails as I keep her up against the wall, my hands running up and down her sides, keeping her locked in place. I want to hear the other sounds she is able to make. I want to see how she looks when she falls apart and admits defeat to me.
"Oh gosh," she gasps, rolling her hips a little harder against my knee in search for friction. I smirk and lower my knee a little, enjoying the way she almost follows with her entire body.
Her eyes lock onto mine and she gives me a pleading look that I definitely can't deny. And I won't, but that doesn't mean I can't have a bit of fun beforehand.
"Still your rules?" I ask in a raspy voice near her ear, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck and sucking lightly at her pulse point. She arches into me and lets out a shuddering breath.
"Please, Natasha," she pleads in a slightly whiney voice that sends a little shiver through me. Oh yes, definitely fun to play with.
I tilt my head to look at her, grinning, knowing I won. Took longer than usually, but that's the fun part and showing her I always win is definitely delightful too.
Her eyes are dark, her pupils blown and her hands desperately holding on to me as if there was any chance that I'd let her go now.
Slowly, I trail one hand further down and hook a finger underneath her jeans button.
"Can I go on?"
"Yes, please!"
I chuckle at her eagerness and open her pants but just to slip my hand inside. I lean in as she gasps as I trail my fingers over the fabric of her underwear, feeling the dampness clinging to it. Oh, this turned her on good.
My fingers tease her clit through her underwear and I relish in the little whimper she lets out and how she attempts to grind down against my hand. But she isn't the one in control here.
I step closer, pinning her hips to the wall, taking away her option to move and dig my teeth lightly into the skin between her neck and her collarbone. A soft moan escapes her and her fingers dig into my back.
"I'll take you where you want to go," I promise against her neck and kiss up to her lips, swallowing another little whimper. The sound vibrates against my lips as I push her underwear aside and run my finger through her heat.
"Fuck," she curses under her breath, hips twitching but I got her firmly pinned in place, enjoying this a lot more than I though. She's so wonderfully responsive to even the smallest touch.
"Yes," she chants and drops her head to rest on my shoulder as I run my finger over her clit before adding a second finger and rubbing it with a little more pressure. Someone's sensitive.
"You like that?" I whisper and nibble at the spot underneath her ear, drawing a sigh from her lips. She whines and nods, hands moving up and down my back as if she needed something to hold on to. They settle, one in the back of my neck and the other on my side, holding me in such a vice grip it almost hurts.
I have to shift my weight a little, allowing her the tiniest of movements and she instantly starts rocking against my hand, gasping almost in the same rhythm. My own core heats up at the movement and the pleasure-filled expression on her face.
I bite my lip, watching her closely as I slip my fingers to her entrance, prodding at it before slipping my fingers in without meeting any resistance. She's so wonderfully wet and hot, clinging to my fingers within seconds while her head falls back, eyes closed.
"Do you think, you can take what I give you?"
She nods, lips parted and a silent sound bubbling up from the back of her throat. I kiss the corner of her lips.
"Good girl," I murmur, feeling her twitch into me.
I move my fingers inside her, testing it out before slowly pulling back and pushing back in. A groan from her tells me all I need to know and I quicken my pace, hitting deeper spots and reveling in the way she arches into me and lightly scratches the skin at the base of my neck.
It only stings a little but it's a good kind of pain, the one coming when you pleasure other people.
I curl my fingers inside of her and she lets out a surprised squeak that turns into a moan when I brush over her spot. That's the one.
"Oh fuck, right there," she whimpers, hips rocking into my hand and she presses her clit to rub against my palm.
"Right here?" I ask almost teasingly, pressing against her spot and she lets out a soft cry and arches off the wall.
"Yes!"
I push her back against it, my hand on her side and slip it up higher to cup her over her bra.
"So responsive, I like it," I hum and squeeze her breast before pulling the cup of her bra down to circle her nipple with my fingers.
"Argh," she groans, arching a little more to press her breast into my hand.
I kiss her deeply, swallowing the next sound when I roll her nipple between my fingers. Her walls contract around me and she breaks the kiss to let out a louder moan, legs twitching. Then she goes still for a split second and finally releases. I almost moan myself at the feeling of her clenching around my finger and her cum spilling out of her.
"Oh, fuck yes!" Her nails scratch down my neck and I have to bite my lip from making a sound myself. Instead, I lean down to kiss her neck again, digging my teeth into the soft skin and sucking harshly, feeling her clench around me a little harder. She tastes a little tart and sweet at the same time, quite addictive.
My tongue soothes the mark I left on her neck and I hum, satisfied with my work.
When her body stills, I slowly pull out of her and lock my eyes with hers as I lick my fingers clean. She buckles slightly at that and I hum, enjoying the taste of her on my fingers. This won't be the last time she came tonight, that's for sure. Seeing her come undone for me is kind of addictive and I will not give up my drug this fast.
I kiss her again, letting her taste herself on my lips and pulling her off the wall. Her legs hook around my waist when I pick her up, giving her thighs a squeeze while slipping my tongue into her mouth. She pants against me, her hand slipping into my hair, tucking at it to keep me close.
I blindly walk through her apartment, no clue where her bedroom is.
"Right," she breathes against my lips and I take the door to my right, entering her bedroom. It's dark in here, which bothers me because I want to see her fall apart.
I set her down on her bed, shortly taking in her face. Cheeks flushed, pupils blown and lips swollen. So fucking perfect!
I tap her thighs.
"Strip for me?"
She nods eagerly and starts unbuttoning her blouse while I step around her bed and turn on the bedside lamp, casting the room in a warm glow.
Then I turn around and peel off the jacket before pulling my shirt over my head and dropping both to the ground. Y/n is only in her bra and underwear now, turning to me with a hint of a smirk. One of her breasts is hanging out of the bra and I know that's totally my doing. Her nipple is stiff and I can see the other one through her bra as well.
My eyes travel down her body. Down her front and the swell of her breasts, over her curves and to where her underwear covers her. Her own arousal and cum is sticking to the inside of her thighs, a reminder of the first round and I grin.
I slip out of my own pants before stepping closer and running my hands down her arms and over her hips to her ass. It's perfect to be cupped by my hands and I pull her closer, kissing her hungrily.
There's still a hint of smugness to her though, showing in the way she explores my body with her own hands and how she tries to take control of the kiss. Cute, how she thinks she is in control.
I reach around and catch both of her hands, bringing them behind her back and holding them there.
She pulls away from the kiss, back a little arched and anticipation shining in her eyes. Still trying to challenge me, but also taking what I'm giving her.
"Now what?" She grins, wiggling her fingers and biting her lip.
I raise an eyebrow and turn her around, pressing her against my front and roaming my hands over her body. I free her second breast, massaging them before dropping my hand to her core again, spreading some of her heat.
She sighs, hand gripping to hold on to my wrist. I stop for a second, checking if that was a sign for me to stop. But she just whines and pushes my hand back to her core.
Insatiable little waitress, but she shall get what she asks for and way more.
I sit down on the bed, opening my legs and pulling her to sit between them. Her body is hot against mine and I can feel a thin layer of sweat on her skin. Oh, it's gonna get so much better than this.
With a quick hand, I undo her bra and tug at her underwear at the same time, bearing her completely.
"You're efficient, I gotta leave you that," she purrs and I just roll my eyes, knowing she'll stop this attempt at a challenge really soon.
My arms wrap around her body, one hand settling on her chest, the other on her thighs and I tap them. Like the eager girl she is, she spreads them and I hook my own legs over hers, keeping her open.
"You look very hot this way," I mutter into her ear, liking the goosebumps rising on her skin and the soft sigh she lets out. Her hands slide over my thighs and grip them when I trail my fingers through her core. With my chin rested on her shoulder, I have the perfect view of her and her trimmed curls.
"Tell me, do you want more?" I apply pressure to her clit and she gasps, legs twitching.
"Yes, please."
I chuckle and kiss the hickey I made. She doesn't know what she's asking for. No one challenges me without learning their lesson. Well, maybe this is just because I want to fuck her really good, I won't lie.
I slip my fingers back inside of her, the silent squelching sound making her cringe a little, but I kiss her jaw, telling her silently it's okay. There's nothing hotter than hearing how aroused the other person is.
Due to my legs being hooked over hers, she can't buck into me this time and a small pout forms on her lips. Cute.
Not that she would need to, I will bring her to release without her helping me. After all, she should be a bit more sensitive now and this isn't my first time with a woman. And with how responsive she is, I'm sure I could figure it out even then.
I start thrusting my fingers in and out of her, enjoying how she melts into me as if she had no chance but give into how good it feels. Her hands grip my thighs a little tighter and a soft sigh slips from her lips. Pleasuring her is definitely fun when she's this vocal about it, I always liked that in women.
I push in a little deeper and harder, curling my fingers and quickly finding the spot that has her legs twitching and her mouth fall open with silent moans.
One of her hands lets go of my thigh and she reaches for her breasts to take one into her hand and play with the nipple, pulling at it and rolling it between her fingers. Seeing her play with herself is hot and I am almost tempted to stop touching her and just watch her do it herself. But the way she squeezes around my finger and manages to grow even wetter is just too hot and I want to see how far I can take her, how many orgasms I can give her until it gets too much.
Having her pressed up to me like this, my thrusts slightly pushing her body further into mine turns me on quite a lot and if she wasn't sitting between my legs, I would either squeeze my legs together or touch myself. Neither is possible right now and I also don't want to pleasure myself tonight, there's something else I'm craving a lot more.
I take her other breast into my hand, massaging it and toying with her nipple, biting my lip at the noise she makes. Something like a groan, but from the very back of her throat while her head falls back to rest on my shoulder.
My lips find her neck and I brush against her spot with more pressure and speed, feeling her legs twitch underneath mine as if she wanted to close her thighs around my hand.
"Right there, please. Please, don't stop," she whimpers before gasping, her eyes closing. I nibble at her earlobe.
"What if I do?"
Her eyes shoot open with something like panic in them. "No, no, please! Don't! Please."
Hearing her beg is way hotter than I imagined and I kind of want to see how far I can take it, but maybe not tonight. One thing at a time.
"Then show me how good I make you feel," I mutter into her ear, pinching her nipple and gaining a little mewl while her walls clench down hard around my fingers. If the first time with her is already this much fun, how much better could it get over time then?
"Fuck, Nat!" She moans, hips attempting to lift off the bed as she comes a second time, fingers pinching into my thigh.
"You're doing so well," I encourage her, letting go of her nipple to slide my hand between her legs and rub her clit, prolonging the orgasm. She struggles against my hold, the pleasure seeming strong and all consuming. It's almost difficult to keep her in position.
Feeling her strain and clench around me like this definitely makes me wet and I feel my heartbeat dropping down, my core demanding attention.
"Come on, give me one more," I whisper, smirking at the whimper she lets out, still in the middle of her current orgasm. A tiny nod gives me consent to proceed and I kiss her cheek in return before picking up the pace with my fingers, hitting her spot on each thrust and rubbing her clit faster.
"Oh, oh fuck! Argh! Natasha!" She cries out, body rearing up as a second orgasm rips right through her, the first one barely over.
I hold her down, pushing her through the waves of the orgasm, feeling a hungry heat threatening to burn me from the inside. If she isn't totally fucked out after this, I will definitely need her to take care of me because I will not be able to walk out of this apartment without an orgasm of my own.
"So good, so, so good," she rambles, body relaxing and I slow down and eventually stop my movements, allowing her to catch her breath. Her chest is rising and falling quickly, legs definitely shaking a little and her body sacks into mine.
Heat leaks out of her and I am absolutely tempted to collect it and let her taste it, but she isn't in the right state to do so, she needs a small break. This is still for both our pleasure after all and nothing she should feel bad about later on.
Carefully, I pull out of her, aware of the soft whimper she lets out. Y/n's head is still resting against my shoulder, her hair falling down my back as if it was my own. Gently, I brush my fingers along her thighs and unhook her legs, caressing her to help her calm down. She did just have two orgasms in one, that can take quite a lot out of someone.
"Wow," she whispers, voice slightly raspy and I smile. It's a genuine one because her reaction is so genuine too.
"You took that very well," I praise and watch a lazy smile unfold on her face. Her eyes open and she looks at me. A few strands of hair stick to her face, so I brush them away.
"Thank you. And thank you for making me feel so good."
I incline my head, kissing her temple. It was my pleasure, almost literally.
"Can I return the favor?"
My entire body screams yes, but it's not as easy as that.
"If you feel like you got the energy for that," I say, studying her expression.
If she needs a moment or a few minutes to regain energy, then I will wait as I don't want her to overdo herself. Not even because it would suck if she stopped in the middle of my built-up, but also because I want her to listen to her body's limits.
Y/n nods and stays as she is for a moment longer, taking deep breaths.
"I do and I want to make you feel good as well. After what you did to me, it only feels fair." The grin on her face isn't challenging this time, more an attempt at mischievous with a mix of innocence.
"Can't deny that," I agree and help her up. +
I lift my hips to slide off my underwear and scoot to the edge of her bed, spreading my legs. She bites her lip and grabs a throw pillow from her bed, dropping it on the ground between my feet. Then she kneels down and just the sight of her between my thighs is enough to fire up my desire a new.
I run a hand through her hair, pulling it back from her face and using the hair tie she is already wearing to tie her hair into a ponytail.
"Making me come made you wet, huh?" she asks, looking from my dripping core up to me. I roll my eyes playfully, but can't quite deny it as there is obvious evidence.
Telling her I'm aching for her touch would only add to her smugness, so I don't. Instead, I open my legs a little wider and slide my hand into her hair. Not to push her, just to hold on to her in some way.
"If you tease me, I will make you regret it," I warn her with a raise eyebrow.
She snickers but nods and leans forward. Her breath hits my heated core and that alone is enough to make me crave more.
She drags her tongue through my folds and circles it around my clit. I almost yelp at how intense that already feels. Damn, making her come really made me horny!
There is no teasing, for both our sakes, and she focuses her tongue on my clit, licking it and trying out a few different patterns.
"Yes!" I grind myself a little against her when she finds the perfect one. This time, she doesn't challenge me and keeps it up like a good girl, which I acknowledge with a hum. My free hand tangles in her sheets, giving me support if I needed it.
Y/n wraps her lips around my clit, sucking at it while flicking her tongue against it and I groan softly, feeling the pleasure rise inside me. This won't take long, I already know it. Making her come three times didn't leave me unbothered and her mouth is quite talented. Looks like she isn't just quick with replies, but also with her tongue.
My hand in her hair tightens a little as I keep grinding against her, chasing my pleasure and her mouth.
"I need your fingers," I tell her, voice breathy and a little raw. If this wasn't our first time, I might be a little more rough, grinding more into her or properly riding her face and taking what I'm craving.
But I will not be doing that during the first night we spend together. There are boundaries and limits that I don't know and overstepping them is definitely not sexy.
She hums against me, the vibrations sending bolts of pleasure through me and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. Her fingers trace along my inner thigh before reaching my core and after a bit of teasing, she slides two inside and I exhale shakily.
"That's it," I encourage her, stopping my grinding so she can find a pace and fuck me properly. Fuck, I need her so badly!
Her tongue goes back to work and she starts moving her fingers in and out of me. Within a few attempts of her curling her fingers, she finds my spot and I very nearly lose control and slip off the bed. But I steady myself and fist the sheets in my hand, feeling the edge approaching quickly.
"Mhh, keep it up like that, darling," I sigh, gasping as she brushes my spot with a little more pressure.
Out of all the hookups I've had, this is one of the best ones and I am not quite sure if it'll stay a one-time thing.
Challenging her and seeing her give in to me is way too much fun. Kind of a smartass until I got my fingers knuckle deep inside her, then she's pudding in my hands.
Encouraged by my words, she keeps fucking me until I clench and let the orgasm take over me. Pleasure tingles through my entire body and I push myself more into her on instinct, chasing the prolonging of my orgasm. It just feels so fantastic and blissful, making me forget everything else for a split second.
I take a few deeper breaths to come back to earth and meet her eyes. She has pulled out of me and away, her finger now only slowly circling my clit to help with riding out every last bit of pleasure. Her cheeks are flushed and my arousal is smeared all over her chin. She looks quite beautiful like this and very sexy.
I run my thumb over her chin, wiping away some of my arousal, tilting her head up to look at me.
"How was that?" She sounds so innocent, as if she hasn't just eaten me out like a woman starving. I give her a smile as she leans her cheek against my thigh.
"It was really great, thank you," I reply. The way her face lights up is sweet and a small sense of protectiveness waves over me.
I motion for her to get up and pull her onto my lap. Her knees press into the bed on either side of me, her naked breasts pressing against mine that are still in the bra. My hands settle on her ass as I kiss her. A little softer than before and humming when I taste myself on her tongue.
Taking her home was definitely a good idea and one I will not regret any time soon, that's for sure.
I have completed my first year of grad school, and thus I shall celebrate with another idea. The idea is vaguely based on one of my other Batman ideas, Mental Break. Please remember to not go looking for cannon, for you will certainly find contradictions.
We start with a Dark Alfred. This is an Alfred that was just a hair more broken by Thomas and Martha Wayne's death. This version of Alfred loves Bruce to the point of madness, he is devoted to Bruce. His morals are reshaped by that devotion. Frankly it is lucky that Bruce had such strong internal morals growing up, because Alfred would have conquered the world to give it to him if Bruce wanted it.
Don’t get me wrong. Alfred does care for the boys the Bruce calls his sons, but his devotion is to Bruce first and always. There is a careful balance that Alfred is able to maintain where Bruce’s morality keeps Alfred from going too far in his name.
Until Jason Todd dies. Jason’s death broke Bruce and in anguish Bruce called out for his dead son.
Ok, Alfred thought, if Bruce wants his son Jason, then Jason he shall have. Alfred quietly arranges Jason’s body to be buried in the main cemetery without ceremony. Then he goes to look for a child. Alfred did not need to look farther than next door, to little Tim Drake, who looked enough like Jason that he could pass as Bruce’s missing son and whose parents would be out of the country for another eight months. Alfred is exceptional at planning and within three days has abducted Tim (with a false trail carefully laid out that lead to Tim’s nanny killing him and then herself- Alfred did regret having to take the woman’s, and another child with a similar build as Tim, life, but needs must) and encouraged a delusion in Bruce that Jason never died, but instead was hiding from Bruce because of Garzonas. Alfred also instigates a fight between Bruce and Dick that drove Dick away, carefully feeding the fire of Dick’s anger so that he would not come back (because Dick was not broken by grief and would realize that Tim is not Jason-Dick and most of the superhero community do know that Jason died, but next to no one knows that Jason Todd did).
Within six months Tim has accepted, read been tortured into accepting, that he is to be the replacement Jason Todd (Alfred was careful, Tim did not believe he was Jason because the goal was always to give Bruce his Jason, which means that Tim had to be aware to adjust his behavior accordingly). During this time Alfred has also made sure that Tim was informed his parents were aware that he was gone but that they were not looking for him, leaving out the part where they thought he was dead. Alfred has trained him thoroughly to be both Jason and Robin. Alfred has also arranged to have Tim/Jason home schooled (because Jason loved school but Tim going in Jason’s place would be too risky). He encourages Bruce’s isolationist tendencies and Bruce’s delusions, so Robin no longer leaves Gotham.
Bruce truly and genuinely believes in the delusion that Jason never died, that the boy in the Robin suit is Jason. He has frequent nightmares about Jason dying and starts to sleep in Jason’s room with Tim. Tim maintains the facade that he is Jason Todd for almost every hour of his life.
This goes on for three years, until the Red Hood comes to Gotham. At some point the real Jason Todd realizes that Dick does not communicate with Bruce, and does not know about the third boy wearing Robin. Jason successfully recruits his big brother, and they go to Gotham to confront Batman and his imposter Robin. This confrontation happens on a rooftop not far out of Crime Alley.
Dick is the one, in the middle of this confrontation, to scream at Batman that Red Hood is Jason, back from the dead. Batman gestures sharply at Robin going ‘No. That’s Jason’. Unfortunately at the exact same time Robin goes, “does that mean I can go home now?”
Robin, Tim Drake, immediately starts to have a panic attack (he had broken one of Alfred's main rules, which was to never even imply he was anyone other than Jason Todd in front of witnesses, particularly Bruce).This is also what punctures through Bruce’s meticulously maintained delusion and Batman descends into something that is not a panic attack, but is some sort of visible crisis that includes him looking wildly between the now unhelmeted Red Hood with Jason’s face and the panicking Robin, whom he had thought was Jason Todd.
Dick and Jason realize that, whatever is going on, they do not have all the information they need. Luckily Jason did have a safehouse nearby, which they managed to usher the still visibly in distress vigilantes into and into separate rooms to try and figure out what is happening.
Dick goes to talk to Bruce, on the grounds that Jason is still having some Lazarus issues and Bruce may be having some Jason issues. Jason goes to talk to the little imposter Robin.
Jason does manage to get the boy in the Robin suit calmed down from his panic attack and, though he does not get all the information he does learn the following: the teen thankfully knows that he (the teen) is not Jason, the teen does not want to be Robin (and had, in fact, been abducted), and heartbreakingly that Alfred was somehow involved. Jason asked the kid’s name and was eventually told that it is Tim Drake (Jason has not heard enough news in the past few years to know who that was). Jason calls Tim by name and Tim burst into tears, as this was the first time he had been called by his real name in almost three years, and was crying so hard that Jason eventually had to sedate him (I just want you all to know that, as I was thinking of this scene I got a strong vision of Tim bursting into tears, Jason panicking and hitting Tim with a judo chop al la Austin Powers-complete with saying ‘Judo Chop’- but eventually decided to go with sedatives instead).
Back with Dick, he also ends up having to sedate Bruce eventually (who is in the middle of some kind of break with reality). Bruce goes on an unhinged rant that, among other things, had Bruce accusing Dick of abducting Jason three years before and replacing him with the child currently in the Robin suit, accusing Dick of working with clayface to create a fake Jason (The Red Hood) so Dick could abduct the Jason currently in the Robin suit, accusing both Jason’s of not really existing (he did this a couple of times, at one point insisting that Jason-either or both of them- was really the spirit of all the kids that died in Gotham, there to torment Bruce for his failures). It becomes clear to Dick that Bruce does not remember that Jason died, that up until their confrontation Bruce truly believed that the teen in the Robin suit was Jason Todd, and that there is something very broken with Bruce.
Dick and Jason reconvene. Once Jason says the name the teen gave, Dick has to sit down for a bit. Because the kid in the Robin suit believing himself to be Tim Drake (Whose reported death about three days after Jason’s was national news) means one of two things is likely true. One, The stress of being forced to play one dead boy has caused this child to think he is a different dead boy. Two, Tim Drake never died and has, in fact, been held captive in Wayne Manor and forced to play being Jason Todd for the last three years.
Neither of these things are good options for either Tim’s (Jason is sure that Tim is the boy's actual name, based on his reaction) long term mental health.
Now Dick and Jason have to figure out who, exactly, they are going to contact about this. It has to be someone within the hero community, someone who either already knows or reasonably could be told Batman’s identity. Alfred is entirely, regretfully not a possibility (for rather obvious reasons). Wonder Woman and Superman are also not possibilities (they are Batman’s best friends and they did not realize that Bruce was broken-and frankly, that there was a different child in the Robin suit, who may have been there against his will). Jason doesn’t know anyone in the Hero community any longer. The Titans that Dick has been working with look to Dick for for guidance and are not the ones he can go to for this. However, thinking of the Titan’s made Dick think of Wally West (best friend and recent boyfriend) and with him came The Flash, Barry Allan, and his family. Barry, who knows Bruce’s identity but had been strictly professional with Bruce since the fight Alfred had instigated with Dick (so had no cause to realize that something was wrong with Batman). Barry, whom Dick had been going to with all the things he could no longer go to Bruce for.
Dick goes to call Barry about the shitshow their lives just became. Jason goes to take off as much of the costume from both the unconscious vigilantes as he can. Incidentally he has the supplies to scrub off the makeup Tim is wearing to make himself look like Jason Todd.
Once Barry arrives he can confirm that Tim is actually Tim Drake (There was a lot of aging and deaging the photo they had of Tim to try and either prove or disprove the corpse was actually Tim which he had a look at, as Alfred had the bodies buried in Central City-to further confuse things by crossing jurisdictions). The one thing that any of them is sure of is that Tim Drake would need lots of therapy.
Barry, Jason, and Dick start to make plans for what to do, while they wait for the sedatives to wear off. There is no way for this to be quiet, everyone is going to be hard pressed to keep the Bruce Wayne is Batman secret under wraps. Returning Tim to his parents, if that is what he wants, will be national news. When it becomes known that his abductor was tied to the Waynes, depending how complicit Alfred and Bruce are, then there is no way to keep this from becoming international.
This is one where I don’t think that Tim would want to have anything to do with Batman, Robin, any heroes, or Gotham ever again. Nor do I think he would feel comfortable with anyone altering his memory. He is quick to assure Barry that he(Tim) will not tell anyone the identities that he knows if he is allowed to leave. The only thing that Barry insists on is that Tim choose from a list of Justice League approved Therapists (So that Tim can talk about any part of the last three years, no need for hiding his identity).
After Barry asks some careful questions of both Bruce and Tim, they manage to piece together enough of what happened and get the rest of the league involved. Both Alfred and Bruce are taken into custody, for different reasons. Bruce wakes up still in the middle of a break from reality and is a danger to himself and others. Alfred is taken into custody for the crimes he committed in turning Tim Drake into Jason Todd. After an evaluation by Dinah it is determined that a comfortable set of rooms would be designed at Superman’s Fortress of Solitude for Bruce, while they try to heal his broken mind. Alfred would be imprisoned with Bruce as his caretaker (The only person that Alfred would not be a danger to is Bruce, and Alfred could clearly see that his actions in maintaining the delusion that Jason never died has done harm to Bruce). Should Bruce get well again, he would be released (as he had committed no crime), but Alfred would serve the rest of his life incarcerated somewhere.
The official story was that after the presumed death of his son, Jason Wayne (with the added spice of Jason being Bruce’s biological child-to clear up inheritance), Bruce Wayne fell into a deep depression. In a well meaning but deeply disturbing attempt to bring Bruce back from the depths he had sunk to, the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, had successfully abducted a neighborhood boy, killing his nanny and another child in the process to throw off the trail, who looked similar to Jason Todd. Alfred proceeded to turn the boy into a replacement Jason Wayne, while gaslighting Bruce into believing that he never found Jason’s dead body, that Jason Wayne was still alive. As it turned out Jason Wayne had not been dead, just abducted himself for human trafficking purposes. When Dick, a lower level agent with the FBI and estranged from his family in Gotham, helped raid one of the facilities he found his presumed dead brother. He brought Jason home, only to find that there was another teen being called Jason Wayne. Upon finding out what Alfred had done Bruce Wayne regretfully contacted the proper authorities and was checking himself into a place where he could get real help, which he clearly needed, he left WE and all of his assets in the care of his newly returned son Jason. Jason, like his father before him, largely left running the company to Lucius Fox, and later his daughter Tam Fox.
Not far from the truth, just lacking in the superhero elements.
Tim’s parents were overjoyed to find that their son lived. His own presumed death had opened their eyes to some things. They want him travelling with them, which Tim was ecstatic about. The Drakes agreed that Bruce was almost as much a victim of Alfred Pennyworth as Tim himself, and agreed not to press charges against the Waynes on the conditions that the Waynes not try and contact Tim, ever. To which they agreed readily. In another life he could have been their brother, in this one they represented his torment.
Tim never goes back to Gotham and, after his therapy is done, does not seek out vigilantes or heroes. He travels with his parents until he was in his late twenties (both he and his parents were a little clingy after the trauma of what he went through), before he is finally ready to fly the coop, right into sailing around the world. During this sailing trip he met Bernard Dowd, another former Gothamite. They fall in love and have a wedding in a Greek temple (Bernard's Parents refuse to attend due to rampant bigotry, The Drake parents sneer at the Dowds-because there will always be part of the Drake parents that remember coming home to a missing/dead child with all the horror that implies and then the double edged sword of Tim being alive but with the trauma he had to endure- and convince Bernard that he should take Tim’s last name, that Jack and Janet were his parents now).
I am not sure if Bruce ever gets better. There is a part of me that thinks that Bruce, deep down, does realize what Alfred did, but facing that not only means facing what Alfred did, what Bruce was party to, but it also meant leaving Alfred entirely. And Bruce is just broken enough to not want to leave his father figure.
Summary: You were assigned to be Harley Quinn's new psychiatrist and things take a turn.
Warnings; darkish, smut, kidnapping,
Word Count: 2.0k
A/n: Nothing…
You were known as Dr. L/n. You were the greatest psychiatrist in Gotham. Recently you were given the offer to treat the famous Harley Quinn. You accepted, of course, you loved a challenge.
“Be careful, she is crazier than you think and not many people have come out alive.”
“Oh, I know. I’m willing to take the risk.”
They opened the door for you and you went in. You looked around the room. The paint on the walls was falling off, there was a metal table in the middle with two chairs. You found Harley huddled up in the corner of the dull room. You hear her distant mumbling from where you stood. You walked closer but not too close, you didn’t want to scare her off.
“Hey Harley, my name is Dr. L/n, your new psychiatrist,” you say softly not to startle her. She slowly lifted her head to look at you. You were met with her icy blue gaze. Her eyes screamed ‘crazy’, but there was something more underneath that, almost a hint of curiosity. She was in a straightjacket for your and her protection.
“Why don’t we sit over there and we can start?” you carefully said pointing to the chairs in the middle of the room. Her gaze followed your finger, then she gave a single nod. You walked closer to try and help her but she made a gesture to try and bite you and you jumped away from her. She started to laugh hysterically.
“I bite, doctor,” she said with a wicked smile. You should’ve known she would do something like that. You took a deep breath and collected yourself.
“Can you get up by yourself then?”
She pushed herself against the wall and started to get up herself. She plopped herself in the chair and you did the same. You looked over at her and she was still looking at you with a mischievous expression.
“Why don’t we start with a simple question? How are you feeling?” You knew it was a dumb question but you had to start somewhere. She just stared at you and started to giggle.
“You know the voices usually tell me to kill anyone that stands in front of me but not right now,” she said while tilting her head to the side.
“So, you hear voices that tell you what to do?”
“Not all the time. Sometimes it’s just me doing what I want.”
“Are you hearing voices right now?”
“No. Wait, yes! Actually no.”
“Okay, well is there anything in particular that stop the voices?”
“Not really they talk when they wanna talk, ya know?”
“Do you think your relationship with Joker caused the voices to begin?” Her eyes darken.
“DO YOU EVER MENTION THAT MAN EVER AGAIN!” She yelled getting up from her chair.
“Hey, Harley, it's ok! I won’t ask about him again, okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Please sit down.” She huffed but obeyed your request.
You continued with the session but you didn’t get much out of her. She kept looking around the room humming to herself. She also kept looking at you up and down from time to time. In the end, you thanked her for cooperating and left.
The guard seemed surprised when you walked out of the room without a scratch. You walked back to your car with an uneasy feeling about Harley. Not a bad feeling but something you shouldn’t feel for a patient, even less someone like Harley Quinn.
🃃🃟🃃🃟
The sessions kept getting more frequent by Harley’s request surprisingly. She talked more and at some points, she seemed like a normal person but the glint in her eyes would always come back. Each session she got more flirty and charming towards you.
You, of course, tried your best to ignore it but you would find yourself thinking back to the things she would say in your alone time. If you kept this up, you were going to lose your job.
You were now going through security again to see Harley. When you opened the door to where the session was being held, you were met with a bruised Harley.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?!” Out of worry, you gently held her face with your hand to get a closer look.
“Some guy tried to take my lunch so I punched him and he punched me back,” she shrugged, her eyes tracing every detail on your face.
“Are you gonna kiss me doctor?” she got closer to your face until her lips hovered over yours and for some reason, you didn’t back away. After a few seconds of staring at each other, she finally kissed you. You froze at first but returned the kiss.
You brought your other hand to cup her face being careful not to put too much pressure on the bruised side of her face. So many thoughts ran through your head in that moment. Her lips are so soft. She is so beautiful. What if someone walks in? When you thought of that, you immediately pulled away.
“We can’t do this Harley, I could lose my job.”
“Get me out of here then.”
“You know I can't do that. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to end this here before it gets any further.”
“Y/n don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“I'm sorry Harley, but this is going to be our last session.” You gathered your things and knocked on the door for the guards to let you out. Once they opened it, you looked at her one last time before leaving.
🃃🃟🃃🃟
Harley sat in her cell thinking of you. How could you leave her like that? She wasn’t going to give up that easily though. She was going to do anything to get you back. But first, she needed to escape from the asylum.
🃃🃟🃃🃟
You sat in your office doing a patient's paperwork when your secretary barged into your office.
“Evelyn, what’s wrong?”
“Turn on the news, now!”
You quickly grabbed your office TV remote. When you turned it on and looked for the news channel and turned up the volume.
“Breaking news. Harleen Quinzel or better known as Harley Quinn has escaped the Arkham Asylum. Please be on the lookout for her. If you see her, call the number on the screen.”
Your heart dropped. Did she do this to get to you? How would you face her? Evelyn turned off the TV before turning to you.
“I think you should stay at home for a few days. At least until they get her just to be safe. I can clear your schedule if you’d like?”
“I think that’s a good idea. Thank you so much, Evelyn.” You gathered your things and headed home.
When you finally got home, you parked your car in your garage before making your way inside your house. You unlocked your door and walked in. You took off your shoes, placed your things on the counter, and made your way upstairs.
When you walked into your room, you noticed your window was open, which was weird since you always close your windows. When you tried to close it someone came from behind you and put a cloth over your mouth. You began to struggle to get away from the person’s grip.
“Shh sh sh, just breathe in for me doctor. We can finally be together now.” That was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness.
🃃🃟🃃🃟
When you woke up you noticed that you weren’t in your bed or your room. Flashbacks from the night before started to flow through your mind. Somehow you didn’t feel the presence of Harley sitting in the dark corner of the room.
“You’re finally awake!” she said coming out of the dark. You whipped your head towards her.
“Harley…” You just stared at her as she slowly walked towards the bed you were lying on, “Harley, where are we?” you asked carefully.
“You don’t have to worry about that now doctor, we can finally be together,” she smiled, sitting next to you.
“Harley, all of Gotham is looking for you. You have to let me go okay?”
“Of course, we can still be together. They are never going to find us here.”
“What about me?! My job?! My life?!” you got off of the bed and started to tear up.
“You can start a new life with me in this house, you don’t have to worry, I'll take care of everything.” She came closer to you and brought you into a hug, petting your hair. You wanted to back away from her but your body didn’t let you.
“Relax Y/n. Everything is going to be just fine.” She pulled away and cupped your face like you did before leaving her in the asylum. She brought you into a soft kiss in which you gave in. Slowly, she guided you back to the bed until the back of your knees hit the side of the bed. She softly pushed you onto the bed and straddled your hips.
You wanted to protest but she just shushed you with a kiss. She began to take your clothes off, item after item until you were completely bare before her. She kissed down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of love bites in her wake. She placed her thigh in between yours and you started grinding against her.
“I couldn’t let you go that easily, doctor. You’re the only thing that stops the voices and for that, I'm going to make you feel so good just breathe for me okay?” She took off her clothes as well before moving her thigh away from your core. Without warning, she slipped her fingers into your pussy while sucking on your breasts.
“Harley!” you gasped, your hand coming up to cover your moans.
“No no no, I wanna hear you, baby,” she said, pinning your hands with her free hand. Eventually, her mouth joined her skilled fingers, sucking on your clit.
“Oh God!” you moaned loudly while grinding your hips against her face. You were getting closer to the edge but before you could get there, Harley stopped.
“Why’d you-”
“Shh, I’m gonna give you what you want just be patient.” She interlocked your legs so that her pussy was aligned with yours. She leaned down and pulled you into a passionate kiss before she started rubbing her pussy against yours. You both moaned from the pleasure that cursed through your bodies.
“You like that doctor? Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes, yes! It feels so good, Harley. Please don’t stop.” She started going faster while still kissing you, all your moans going against her lips. Her movements started to get sloppy, letting you know she was close.
“Are you close, baby?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, unable to make coherent words.
“Come for me.” And you did.
“Harley!” You cried out when you reached your climax. Your hands gripping onto Harley’s back for support. You lied on the bed panting while Harley moved away, not before she rubbed her fingers in your wetness and brought them to your mouth.
“Open,” she commanded and you proceeded. You sucked her fingers clean, humming at the taste. She then licked your pussy clean before laying down on the bed next to you.
“You’re mine now and nothing will ever take you from me again,” she whispered into your ear before bringing your body closer to hers. You wanted to be scared of that sentence but it brought a sense of comfort that someone wanted you. She wanted you.
“I’m all yours,” you said into her ear. You felt her hold on you tighten a bit when you said that. She drew invisible circles against your arm until you fell asleep.
