Batboys X reader (on break)

Need a Second? (Nightwing x Precure Kirakira la Mode!reader)

((Author Note: I did get the request for this one but I did not write it. determined03 did and gave me full permission to tweak and post this. It is also on their Batboys x reader book. I bit more then I could chew when I accepted this request before I even realized what I was getting into. I wanted to be honest about this one on who wrote it when I asked for help from Determined03.))

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(Y/N) Pov

In my bakery, the air is more delicious than any flavor. Somehow the aroma captures everything good in here: the filter coffee, the various cakes, the danish pastries. The blend is perfection. There are baking supplies littered around the kitchen and an empty pad lay in the middle of it, a pencil at the ready. I don't exactly believe in recipes, to me baking is just ideas demanding to be discovered. It's how I find peace. In the chaos of creation comes order; from raw ingredients comes something of beauty. No matter the troubles that swirl in the grey cloud or linger in the winter-chilled grass, the kitchen always holds the keys to serenity. I know there are those who see it as silly, less worthy than almost every other thing I could do. But I can't live my life pursuing the goals of others. I've found mine between the flour and butter inside the mixing bowl.

Despite my passion for baking, it doesn't stop people from walking by the bakery and berating it, however, upon stepping inside the bakery, they discover that it is airy and bright. The front of the shop is all glass with potted plants. The feel of the place is modern yet has a rustic charm at the same time. The coffee I serve is rich and full-bodied, the pastries and baked goods are a feast for the eyes as well as the palate. Each pastry is lovingly hand made in the Romanian style; heavy, dense, hearty and nutritious. My customers tell me that they want to bottle the store's scent and take it home, but at least they get to take the pastries home with them; wrapped in parchment paper and cradled in their arms. Though if I do find a way to bottle up the scent of the bakery, I may have to consider selling it as a scented candle or something like it.

As I begin finish packing up the bakery I watch the sun fall behind the horizon, painting the sky shades of red and pink. The fading of the sunlight also means the fading of the heat. I collect my things and lock the doors, stepping outside to go home. Wintry air swirls around me taking every bit of warmth it can. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, pulling my coat closed and tucking my chin downward into my pullover. My hair falls loosely around my face, tousled and tangled. As I walk the streets to the poorly lit bus shelter I suddenly become aware of the gloomy shadow following me. My palms become sweaty and adrenaline courses through my veins, I glance behind myself in search of the source making the noise. Nothing.

I turn back around to be greeted by a tall and lanky man. At first, his eyes are cast to the pavement but then he seemed to suddenly realize he is at his destination. He lifts his head. His long silver hair is tied into a thick braid and held together by a blue bead. He moves closer with eyes that look so deeply into my own. There is something off about that gaze. The mix of green and red in his eyes, unsettling yet mesmerizing. I notice the long black and white tunic with red buttons and cuffs paired with a light blue scarf and blue flat shoes. The left side of his lip tugs upwards creating a sinister smirk on his face as he examines the tarot cards he loosely carries.

"My, my...what do we have here?" He asks.

"A girl who really wants to go home..." I sarcastically reply.

My hands tighten around the satchel slung across my shoulder which conceals various sweets and pastries. From a near window, I notice an inhuman figure standing behind me. Its head is cocked slightly to the right and its back is crooked, making the beast look tired and worn. It just stands still, watching silently. It's so skinny it looks like he doesn't have any muscle at all. His dead caved in eyes are completely black, with small red pupils. I can feel them in the back of my head. It gets closer and closer until it is breathing down the back of my neck...There is stillness on both sides. If our hatred was visible the air would be scarlet.

"If you think that any of this scares me, you're dead wrong..." I warn.

"The only person who will be dead is you..." He sneers

"Look, can we reschedule this? I'm tired, it was a long day and I don't feel like beating you up tonight...how about tomorrow?" I sigh.

"I don't think so," He smirks.

I scan the street, keeping an eye out for any civilians who could get hurt in the crossfire. Upon deciding it's safe, I open my Linkrun, sliding my finger across the button making the screen glow bright yellow.

"Change, Pretty Cure! Beat Up!" I shout.

My hair accessories disappear as I put my foot down, bear ears taking their place whilst my (H/c) hair is re-styled into pigtails that fit my (H/l). As white light surrounds me, my (F/c) dress, boots, gloves and choker appears. I take no pleasure in taking Elisio down. None. But it's necessary in order to keep Gotham safe. I've learnt that giving mercy is good until it is proven to hurt the innocent. Suddenly there is movement, the monster's large hand hits me, the force causing my head to reel sickeningly as I collapse to the pavement.

"This will not get the better of me," I think as I rise.

With two hands I grasp the monster's head in my hands and bring my knee cap up to his nose, there is a blunt crack and I release it. The monster advances with a mighty cry. I dodge to the side in one motion but my agile movements are far too slow. A sudden gush of pain jolts throughout my body. I struggle against the monster's grasp, shooting my right leg out but once again my movements are far too slow. Each time I am tossed back and deflected I find myself becoming frustrated. I Draw in raw breaths as I am finally pinned down, the feeling of humiliation rising within me.

"I expected more of a fight from you," Elisio laughs.

I kick, but it does nothing to the monster. Anger boils within me, as hot as lava. It churns, hungry for destruction, hungry for a win. My eyes narrow as he continues to taunt me.

"Need a little help there?" A man's voice calls out.

"Give me a second and I'll be right," I reply, huffing slightly as I attempt to throw another punch.

"You're second is up...want another one?" He jokes.

"Just get this bloody thing off me!" I reply, my frustration evident in my voice.

Almost immediately the wight of the monster is lifted off me, allowing me to breathe once more. I sit up, catching my breath and looking around, observing this man and the monster as they battle between one another. He fights as if he'd been doing it all his life, every movement competent and flowing. In only a couple of minutes, he has somehow defeated the monster as if it were easy. With each passing second that I spend staring at this man, the prettier he becomes. He has distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, his pale skin making him look devilishly handsome. I shake my head and search for the owner of the monster to discover that he'd disappeared whilst we were both preoccupied. Damn...I was so close to catching him.

"Are you alright ma'am?" He asks.

"Just peachy keen! Thanks for the assistance Mr..." I frown slightly as my mind goes blank when thinking about his name.

"Nightwing....and you are?" He grins.

"(S/H/N)!" I chirp, taking a step forward whilst extending my hand.

Suddenly everything becomes fuzzy as I sway for just a moment. I stagger backward, my mind swirling. Nightwing snakes an arm around my waist, keeping me steady. His comforting hand delays my legs from collapsing, then lifting me into his arms as if I weighed nothing.

"Jeeze, you're pretty light for someone so sweet." He murmurs.

"Well, you're pretty attractive for someone who's...." I trail off, thinking of something to say.

"Need a second?" He chuckles.

"Shush, you handsome devil..." I wave my hand around lazily before relaxing in his arms.

"Okay, let's get you home. I'm pretty sure you've got a concussion. You remember where you live?" He asks.

"Yes..." I mumble.

Little did I know, that was the start to a beautiful relationship. Both as partners as heroes and a boyfriend that is even sweeter then my own goods at the bakery.