#batboys one shot

[purple-writer8]

Delicate - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“Handsome, you’re a mansion with a view. Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”

warnings: literally smut with a plot, fingering, shadowplay, wingplay sort of, light very light bondage, riding, p in v, cum inside

1k words

Masterlist :)

Your favorite thing to do was trace small stars across the shadowsinger’s bare chest, your eyes strained on his sleepy, peaceful face. 

Whenever he stayed over, you grew lazy— waiting for him to wake up, not wanting to move much as you laid tightly tucked between his chest and his right wing that cocooned around both of you. The blue siphon that hangs off his chest glows even as he sleeps, and you twirl the object in between your fingers. Wondering how you ever got one of the strongest warriors in Prythian to be yours.

Well, yours temporarily… sporadically.

“Watching me sleep?” His wing twitched as he spoke, his voice entirely raspy, hazel eyes fluttering open to gaze down upon you resting on his chest. Shadows slithered up your bare legs, they were a soft caress that reminded you of the previous night the both of you shared. 

“Am I not allowed?” You whispered softly, playfully, curious fingers reaching up to softly trail his sharp features. His shadows coiled around your waist and then traced up to your bare breasts, slithering atop your already hardened peaks.

“You can do whatever you want when it comes to me, lovely,” Azriel spoke, causing heat to pool in between your thighs, and you were entirely sure that he could smell your desire. That devilish smirk was all too telling. 

He was a dream, and he was there-- in your bed. You sighed and looked up at him, your eyes finding his hazel ones, and as you gazed into them-- you found yourself thinking what would it be like if he was yours, your mate-- really truly yours. 

You had met Azriel in a diplomatic venture you had for your court, fifty years ago. You were the Winter Court's emissary, which made you and the Nigh Court's spymaster prone to seeing each other constantly. 

The Winter and Night courts were friendly, so your High Lord had once invited Rhysand and his Inner Circle to a Winter Solstice ball. You had always found the shadowsinger attractive, anyone who didn't was insane-- he was crafted by the Mother herself, you were sure. But that night, alcohol was flowing, and he ended up in your bed. 

You had thought it was a one time thing, but somehow, whenever he had business in the Winter Court, he was knocking on your door-- constantly falling into your bed. It was something casual, no strings attached. That did not mean you did not wish for him to be yours every damn time. 

Straddling him, you leaned down to whisper in his ear, "whatever I want?" 

Azriel chuckled deeply, his wings twitching in anticipation, his hardness standing tall and pressing against your bottom. You reached for the cuffs that laid on your night stand, the same ones he had used on you the night before. 

As you worked to cuff him to the headboard, his shadows danced around you, teasing you. Some glided over your stiffened peaks, while others slithered to your center, ghosting over your clit, making sure you were nice and ready for their master. "Is this my punishment for last night?" He chuckled, wriggling his wrists around the now closed cuffs. 

"Yes... bad little shadowsinger," you cooed, reaching for his right wing, your black polished nail scraping against that leathery spot you knew would drive him crazy. Azriel whined, his cock twitching, eager to be touched. You smirked and got off his lap, sitting in between his legs. 

His eyes darkened as you revealed to him your glistening sex, running two fingers along your folds. Azriel licked his lips, "you cruel, cruel female." His shadows slithered up your leg, reaching your aching clit and ghosting over it. You moaned as you fucked yourself with your fingers, his shadows helping with ministrations that were oh, so torturous. 

"Fuck... you look so pretty like that... with your fingers fucking your pussy." He struggled against the cuffs, yearning to touch you, longing to feel you. "Don't you dare come," he growled, his shadows whisking up toward your neck, slithering around it to keep you steady. 

He tickled your neck as a distraction, and before you could even react-- he had uncuffed himself from the headboard and flipped you unto the bed, a seductive smirk crawling unto his face. You chuckled, your hands holding his biceps as his fingers plunged into you, fucking into you with an unrelenting pace. His wings flaring wide, covering almost the entirety of your room. 

You didn't need much to come down from your high with a loud cry, nails digging into his arms as you came undone on his fingers. "Good fucking girl... so good for me..." he whispered, still fingering you, extending your orgasm as much as you could. 

You gripped his arms tightly and flipped him over, lowering yourself into his hardened cock, not able to wait any longer for that feeling of him deep inside you. He growled, wings tucked tight as his scarred hands gripped your ass, guiding you up and down his stiff member. "Do the girls back home fuck you like I do?" You moaned, your arms swinging to wrap around his neck for purchase. 

"Not a chance," he breathed out shakily, holding you in place as he drove his hips up into you, fucking you with an unrelenting, punishing pace. You moaned loudly, brazenly, as his cock hit that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. "You're always so tight, fuck..." he groaned. 

"I can never stop thinking about you.... fuck... you're the only one I can fuck..." Azriel breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak. "I'm yours, Azriel. Only yours, you know that." 

He let out an uncharacteristic moan as he shot his spend deep inside you. His thrusts slowing as he pumped you full of him, so fucking full. And you came again for him, always for him.

You slumped over his chest, head nuzzled into his neck as his fingers combed through your hair gently— both of you reeling after reaching your peaks together. The two of you cuddled for another hour, until he apparently got orders from his high lord in his mind. “I’ve got to go, angel…” he whispered, gently lifting you up off his body. 

You frowned, watching as he dressed himself quickly. “Stay here, baby, I don’t wanna share…” you said softly, covering your body with the duvet and leaning against the headboard. 

Azriel chuckled as he donned on his leathers, “you make it harder to leave each time, lovely.” 

“Promise you’ll be back soon… you always leave for so much time…” You whined, causing Azriel to step towards you, clasping your chin in his fingers. 

“We can’t make any promises, now. Can we, babe?” He asked, and you knew it was true— knew that your situation was delicate. 

You were both entirely dedicated to your respective courts. So you watched him go, and instantly yearned for him to come back. 

-

Author’s note:

Literally porn with a plot… BTW this winter court reader is not the one from heather. I just adore the Winter Court hehehe

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria

[tastycitrus]

there's an alternate timeline where the new 52 reboot kept all three batgirls but retconned all the robins except for dick, who went back to being robin with nightwing banned from being mentioned at all

[allthegothihopgirls]

at LEAST once jason (with tim) has dragged damian along with them clubbing as a designated driver (if he wasn't being bribed with driving the batmobile he would NOT be going, zero chance)

they all go suited up because 1. tim won't go as a civilian (bad for his reputation etc etc). 2. every gothamite knows not to ask a robin-boy for ID. 3. jason claims to have never gotten more free drinks than when he goes as hood.

damian will walk in, accompany jason to the bar so he can get a ginger ale, and promptly situate himself on a barstool (the bartenders WILL look out for him + get him free refills of whatever soft drink he wants), observing his brothers and muttering about them being "imbeciles".

it takes a couple of hours before jason starts coming over to damian, pleading for him to join a dance circle, or show off a trick.

jason ends up bargaining down to damian walking around with him whilst he talks to girls, because "chicks dig guys with a paternal instinct" and it's gotham, and everyone's under the influence, so no one's going to question why there's a 13 year old in the nightclub. instead they see red hood with his little brother robin, and think it's sweet.

the one condition of damian being their designated driver is that dick is under no circumstances allowed to find out. one time dick called tim, and he was too tipsy to answer anything but "damian" when asked if he had a way home, and subsequently "no, he's here" when dick assumed (already pissed, and about to rant about how they can't rely on a 13 year old to drive them home) damian would just be driving over to pick them up. they did not hear the end of it for weeks. + going forward jason confiscated tim's phone every time they walked into a nightclub.

"he's 13, legally, he cannot be in a nightclub, OR driving anyone home"

it was worse when he found out they went suited up. tim copped it the worst, because jason had an apartment to go home to, while tim was stuck in the manor listening to all of dick's hate-fuelled rambling about jason and his childishness, as well as what he had to say about tim's own behavior.

for damian it was win-win though, dick loves him too much to be mad at him about it (even though he KNOWS he has the common sense to Not Get Into Those Situations), AND he got to drive the batmobile (he manages to drive around gotham for over 45 minutes before a drunk jason starts to suspect they aren't 'going straight home')

[redhead-batgal]

Type: Two-Shot (Part Two: Here)

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Word Count: 8,605

Content: Bad y/n family, self-depreciative thoughts, language, violence, a little bit of gaslighting, angsty times, (a tiny bit of venting), "good" coping/reactions, tiny bit of batfam slander and aged up reader/Damian to 18yrs.

(P.S: I may or may not have another part planned that will make all of this make more sense but like it works fine as it is if y'all like it on its own)

Y/N: your name, V/N: Vigilante name, S/n: Sister's name, Favorite Color: f/c

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Family is supposed to be one of the most cherished and important things in life. They are supposed to support and love you; they are supposed to make you feel safe and happy. They are supposed to lift you up and help you know that despite your flaws you are loved, wanted and cherished.

And yet, yours never did.

Born the middle child you were quickly forgotten. Especially since your younger sister captured everyone's attention. Captivating every person who passed it seemed as if she had some kind of aura that pulled others in.

It seemed as if she was good at everything and nothing you could ever do would even make you half the person she was. She was kind, and friendly, wickedly intelligent and charismatic. A perfect person some would say, and it made you feel like utter shit for not being able to do a third of what she could.

Maybe that was why you turned to a life of vigilantism. Maybe you hoped that doing good, even with no thanks for it, would help you feel worth... something. Worth anything. That even though only you would know, you would be able to burn at a fraction of light your sister burned at. Helping others, saving people merely because they needed help and making a difference made you feel... alive.

But your sister was still there. She was still shining and bright, happy to steal any friend or crush you ever had. Or at least that's the way it seemed, the way her eyes would glint as she laughed twirling her hair chatting with your friends. A vengeful look spilling from them. But she always shed tears upon seeing your distraught face, she seemed to feel guilty though you felt a hidden smile behind her tears.

Sisters are sisters, your parents would say, she will be mean and tease you, but you will always love each other.

You began to wonder if all of it was a lie to make you feel as if she cared about you when it was clear she didn't. She seemed to hate that you had become content that you were different then her, that you proudly held your head high as people pointed out your differences. But she didn't know the way you truly felt. It was strange, she was so perfect that you were jealous, but jealousy was a nasty color on anyone. And you had heard too many times that you were selfish and self-centered to let others know how you truly felt about her.... well, some people knew.

Your partner, Damian Wayne- the mother fucking Robin, knew how you felt. He was your best friend after all, he knew all of your secrets and deepest feelings and wishes as you knew all of his. Ever since you had moved to Gotham and decided upon some extracurricular nighttime activities, only to be caught and brought in by Batman; your life had gotten a bit better. Your sister was miles away in your home state living a happy and pampered life as she went to college while living with your parents.

Regardless, it was hard to forget such emotions- to remove them completely. In fact, it was harder to forget how you were treated since you were so much freer. You were unhindered by your family's expectations and your sister's growing shadowing which you were so used to living in.

Now out of that shadow- out of sight of the throne your parents constantly put your sister on you were better able to see that she wasn't perfect at all... well at least she wasn't as nice and kind as she seemed to be. Away from your childhood home you were able to see all the jabs, torment, disparagement and diminishment you received from her. How she would mock your accomplishments and steal away those who helped you rise passed your insecurities regarding your place against hers.

It seemed whenever you got enough footing to climb out of her shadow, she'd push and knock you back to the depths of it.

You had, as many do, told your best friend of such revelations. But, as humans do, you made it clear that your thoughts probably had bias. An accumulation of years of neglect and belittlement made it hard to be sure what you felt was the truth. Which made it even harder to convince Damian you were right, but you didn't mind fighting such a battle if it meant someone else could see the sister the way she truly was... or at least the way you saw her.

"Ugh," You groaned tilting your head back as you turned your phone off leaning against the gravel covered rooftop, "Miss Perfect is at it again."

Across from you, Robin raised his head. His face stony as he scoffed looking around once again, doing the job you were supposed to be doing at the moment, patrolling.

Silence beat between the two of you and you rolled your eyes, swirling into a somersault before bounding over towards him. He stayed quiet and you began walking circles around him.

Throwing your voice down at least three octaves you spoke again, "And what exactly did that horrendous sister of yours do this time?"

Robin blinked at this, pausing before turning to you, his facade finally cracking as he lifted an eyebrow.

"What exactly was that supposed to be?"

You grinned leaning in a bit closer to him before batting your eyes and replying, "My impression of you being a caring friend and contributing to this important conversation."

This time the corner of his mouth twitched as he hesitated. Then he turned eyes scanning the horizon. You shrugged accepting the small victory as you slid into a perch your back pressed against his.

"I'm going to just keep talking and if you don't respond I'll respond for you, okay?"

He grunted in reply, and you took that as a yes before leaning your head, so it rested against the back of his shoulder.

"S/N found the old diary we shared and posted pictures of some entries on all of her socials. Entries- selective, that only I wrote- embarrassing entries."

Silence beat once again between the two of you and you took that moment to take up your impersonation once again.

"Do you think it was involuntary? Or that she had a particular reason for doing such an atrocious thing?"

You felt Robin's body tremble and twitch as he shifted, and his chest shook. Smiling softly, you looked up at the night sky, partially missing the thousands of stars you could see back home.

"No, I think she did it on purpose. As I have told you before, it is her life's mission; along with being the exact image of a perfect daughter, girl and person, to make me feel like shit." You paused shifting so your weight was slowly and surely pressing upon him, "It was- it was probably because of the pictures I posted last week of me, Steph, Cass and Barabra."

He was motionless this time and still silent. Fiddling with your belt you waited a moment more before replying to him.

"You must have a rather elevated opinion of yourself if you think she would care about something so minuscule y/n- no V/n."

This got a soft- barely audible laugh from him. Taking the second it escaped to bask in the sound and feeling of his body shuddering as he tried to hold it back and you let out a breath. It was relaxing being here with him, talking half to yourself while he listened. It was peaceful and quiet, something you found your cherished. However, the quiet would not last long, so you continued on.

"You see Da- Robin, I would agree with that except she not only was one of the first people to like it, but when it started getting a lot of likes she commented, 'So proud of how far you've come! I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month!'. Now I have a question for you, is that something someone who doesn't give a shit does?"

This time he moved, shifting so your sides pressed together and faces nearly touched. His brow was furrowed and gaze dark. You blinked in surprise but merely tilted your head.

"What?" He muttered something tense in his voice.

"She commented on my photos of my girl's day with Steph, Cass and Barabra, 'So proud of how far you've come. I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month. Kinda seems off right?"

Robin scowled as he looked away from you, but not at the city, no he looked at the rooftop, his jaw locking. You weakly laughed and turned so his side was pressed against your back.

"I don't know about you, but that sounds fairly passive aggressive. And I know I'm not the world's greatest detective or his kid, but... that does not seem like something you'd comment on your sibling's post."

Robin grunted and you shut your eyes for a moment, happy tonight was tranquil enough that you could feel the quiet. Every moment that pulsed between the two of you was raw and unimpeded. You could hear every one of his breaths, feel the expanding and contracting of his chest and feel the heat of his body pressed against yours fighting off the chill of the night.

"It is... odd." He finally replied.

You snorted, opening your eyes to see him looking at you, his brows creased with concern.

"That is an understatement if I've ever heard one."

He rolled his eyes snorting as you sat up yawning. Stretching out you faintly heard the beep of the coms, a voice crackling in your ears.

"V/N, Robin, if everything is clear you two are good to go for the night."

Patting your mouth, you nodded making brief eye contact with Robin before you stretched some more, "Alright, thank you very much Oracle!"

Oracle's voice instantly replied, "Of course, get some rest Y/N."

You smiled, shooting Robin a wink as you snagged the small bag you carried with you throughout patrol.

"Yes mam! I will see the both of you tomorrow!"

A soft laugh echoed through the coms before everything went silent, you turned and bounded down the stairs to the closest empty room, changing back into your civilian clothes and placing your vigilante gear into the bag.

Now appropriately dressed, you began your trek home. Which luckily for you, was less than ten minutes tonight. Taking in the night air you bounced and twirled walking down the sidewalk before you arrived at your complex.

Walking inside you began your assent to your apartment; sure, nothing could ruin your night. However, as you made it to your floor you found a figure with bags standing nearby your door.

"Uh, hi," brow furrowed, you slowly approached the figure, "can I help you?"

At the sound of your voice the figure snapped up stepping enough into the dim light that you could see it was a girl- a familiar girl who perked up at the sight of you.

"Y/N!"

You felt the blood drain from your face as the girl raced up and pulled you into a hug. Your head began to spin as you fought to breathe normally.

"What are you doing here?" You weakly asked as the girl released you grinning brightly.

"I'm here to surprise you silly!" She laughed as she pulled on your arm, "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever, so I wanted to come by! I thought it'd be fun to hang out and see how your life is here. Maybe you can give me a tour of the city and introduce me to your friends."

You nodded half understanding what she was saying, still in shock at the sight of her, "Uh-huh."

"Y/N, come on! It's late we should get inside... speaking of where have you been?"

"Work- uh work I work nights most of the time. I usually get back around 4ish," You began, walking towards your apartment.

She nodded in understanding as she pulled her suitcase towards your door waiting for you to open it. Hands slightly shaking you put the key in the lock and twisted pulling down on the handle. With a weak flourish you gestured to the apartment.

"Welcome to Gotham... S/N."

"I'm so excited!" She squealed, wheeling her things in, "we are going to have so much fun."

"So much," You weakly echoed heart dropping as you almost saw your new life going up in flames.

______________________________________________________________

It was unfortunate to say the least that not only was your sister in town, but she wanted to meet your friends. You didn't have many friends outside of the other vigilantes and were nervous to explain that you were friends with the Waynes and never said anything about it.

Part of you wanted to brag and shove it in her face, but you knew that not only was rude but would do nothing. If you were lucky, she would be acquaintances with them in the end... if you weren't.... let's just say you wouldn't be able to have your fun little chats on patrols anymore.

You knew that Damian would never abandon you... at least intentionally. You wanted the two to meet so he could see how all you spoke about was true! So, someone else could tell you, you weren't insane. So that you could feel a sense of relief that you weren't making all this up. But you feared- you so deeply feared he'd choose her over you. You were terrified of being abandoned again for your sister.

Regardless, you knew you had to introduce them at some point because there was no way Damian was going to allow you to not speak to him for that long.

So, after an extensive two-day tour of Gotham and pointing out all of the best places to shop, eat or just relax (despite how few there were) you made your way to the Wayne manor for a brunch of sorts with everyone. To introduce your sister and finally get over with the fear.

Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel you tried to listen to your sister's ramble, but your stomach was churning.

"Sooo," She said, "After this brunch I'm going to go and meet up with some online friends... will you be okay without me?"

You tensed, but slowly nodded, "Oh, yeah! I should be okay. I probably can talk with my boss and ask for some time off so we can continue to hang while you're here. And I run a couple of errands."

S/N nodded, shooting you looks as you pulled into the Wayne's neighborhood. She furrowed her brow as you reached their driveway and the gates opened. You began to go up the driveway when she let out a slight gasp.

"Wait, is this... is this Wayne manor?!"

You nodded your chest tightening, "Uh yeah. I thought I told you I'm friends with the Waynes."

Her jaw dropped as she stared in awe at the manor. You wanted to laugh at her expression, but your nerves were wound so tight you feared it might end in you crying.

"We- we are having brunch with the Waynes?!"

"Well, a few of them. Bruce is busy at work and I'm pretty sure so's Tim. Dick is in Bludhaven. And j-" You stopped yourself recalling Jason wasn't legally alive, "and I think the rest should be joining us, along with a friend I think."

S/N did not move, her eyes wide as you pulled to a stop parking. From here you could see Alfred standing in the doorway. You gave him a quick wave and he returned it with a smile.

Unbuckling, you turned the car off and slid out of it. S/N scrambled to get out as you closed your door. She blinked a few times, shaking her head as you locked the car and began your way to the front door.

"How- how are you friends with the Waynes?" S/N whispered, having clamped onto your arm.

"Uhhh long story, I mean technically work. My boss- he uh... he put me on a project, and I ended up meeting Damian and we hit it off pretty well and I ended up meeting the rest and the same happened." You spat out your prepared lie, noticing the way she tensed upon you saying Damian's name.

"Damian... he's the youngest right?" She muttered as you began to climb up the steps.

"Yup!"

"Miss Y/N, Miss Y/N's sister, it is a pleasure to have you dine with us this morning." Alfred said, holding the door open.

You smiled and gave him a nod, "Alfred this is S/N, S/N this is Alfred Pennyworth he is the butler here and the one who actually runs things."

S/N giggled as she released you to give Alfred a curtsy. He gave you a look as she was bent, and you shrugged. The two of you then walked into the manor a clattering of shouts and chatter coming from the dining room nearby.

"Y/N IS HERE!" A delighted Steph bellowed before bouncing around the corner and bolting towards you.

S/N stepped back as Steph flung herself at you, with surprising ease you caught Steph with a laugh. She grinned wildly as a few more people rounded the corner.

"Looks like all your training is paying off!" Steph giggled as you set her down.

She then paused seeing your sister and smiled, holding out her hand, "Hi! I'm Stephanie but you can call me Steph!"

Your sister's expression instantly lightened, and she took Steph's hand shaking it.

"I'm S/N, Y/N's sister."

Steph released her hand and nodded, "Nice to meet you."

A few beats of silence occurred, and you noticed Cass, Duke and Damian, all approaching you.

"Yo, Duke!" You said almost subconsciously, "It's been a while, how are you man?"

You walked towards Duke giving him a quick side hug as he laughed. You felt Damian's eyes bearing into you, but you ignored it.

"I'm good! You know how it is, school and work. It has been a while, what about you?"

"I'm good, pretty much the same," But you paused as you turned to see your sister shooting you daggers, "My sister is in town. Duke this is S/N, S/N this is Duke! He is one of the chillest people in Gotham and the best writer I know!"

Duke flustered slightly as your sister smiled bounding towards him.

"Hi! It is so nice to meet you! I'm S/N!"

Cass waved hello and you waved back as Damian stopped at your side. Your nerves were twisting tighter as your sister looked to you, her eyes brightening upon seeing Damian.

"That's Cass, she is amazingly talented... oh man if she had one, I would take you to see one of her ballet shows."

Your sister nodded clearly not interested in Cass, she eyed Damian and you noticed Duke and Steph sharing troubled looks.

"And this is?"

"Damian Wayne, it's a pleasure to meet you S/N."

He took the hand she offered out and shook it. You were still as Damian's arm brushed past you, your heart racing. Silence seemed to buzz in your ears before Alfred cleared his throat. You blinked and turned.

"Uh, Is it time to eat alf- Alfred?"

Alfred nodded and you turned towards the dining room feeling Damian's not so subtle grip on your arm, "Why don't we go eat?"

Steph instantly grabbed onto your sister and began asking her questions. She shot Damian looks before caving in and allowing her to guide her away. Duke and Cass followed behind them leaving only you and Damian.

"Are you alright?" He muttered.

"Yeah yeah," You weakly replied, "I- i just wasn't expecting her."

He looked you over his brow furrowing before he nodded, "Alright."

The two of you stared in silence before you felt your face flush.

"Uh, okay let's go eat!"

You felt his grip leave your arm and you hurried to the dining room to find only two seats open. One next to your sister and one next to Cass, across from your sister. You sat down next to her watching as Damian took the seat across from her.

"So!" S/N instantly said, "I'm assuming you've heard all about me so why don't you tell me about yourselves?"

"Actually," Steph chirped, smiling, "Y/N doesn't talk about you guys often... none of us do. It's kinda like an unspoken rule. After all, Bruce adopted half of them and I- let's just say family troubles aren't fun!"

You had to resist a laugh at your sister's outraged expression and quickly drink from a glass of water to hide your amusement.

"Oh," S/N faltered, shaking her head, "that's okay! I just thought that Y/N would talk about us, I mean we used to be so close...anyways uh what do you guys like to do?"

You turned so she wouldn't see your eyes roll, it was clear- at least to you- she was trying to get the other's pity. Make them feel bad for her and be angry at you. Fortunately, they did not fall for such weak tricks.

"It'd be weird if she did when we have a rule about it but okay!" Steph continued, "a little about me hmmm, oh! I love sports and waffles; my favorite color is purple, and my favorite vigilante is Black Bat!"

Your sister slightly flinched before putting on her sweetest smile, "Oh that is so cool! Though... I don't know a lot about Gotham's vigilantes."

This time Duke chimed in, "That's okay, just pick someone you know. As Y/N said I'm a writer, I enjoy poetry and music; my favorite color is probably yellow, and my favorite vigilante is The Signal."

You had to practically shove your fist into your mouth to stop this laugh, your sister nodded looking a little deflated. She then turned to Damian- hesitated and looked at Cass.

"What about you?"

Cass blinked a few times before signing, "I like ballet, black and Spoiler is my favorite."

Your sister blinked a few times and you coughed to hide a laugh before you watched Damian pipe up.

"She speaks sign language, she just said she likes ballet the color black and that her favorite vigilante is Spoiler."

Something in you slipped a bit and your smile nearly dropped as all the laughter left you. Your sister grinned leaning on her arm as she nodded.

"That is very cool. So, you know, sign Damian?"

"All of us do, even Y/N." Duke replied with a shrug.

Your sister turned to you with a surprised look on her face, and you flushed feeling your stomach drop.

"I-I-uh learned so I could talk to Cass. I- I ended up accidentally catching her while practicing and it- it was ... she was so amazing I wanted to compliment her. She understood but- I wanted to talk with her, you know? Be able to hear her words and see her interpretation of the dance."

Something flickered in your sister's eyes, and she nodded her smile looking a little forced as she turned back to Damian, her brow raised.

"I do believe that you should go first, after all it is poor manners to make our guest go last."

She blinked twice before her smile brightened and she nodded, "Oh of course! That makes so much sense. Uh well... I'm in a little bit of everything. Fashion, art, music, science, math, sports. My favorite color has to be blue and uh... Batman is my favorite vigilante."

You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Damian made eye contact with you, and you could see the amusement in his eyes as you pressed your hand to your face.

"Okay, Y/n it's your turn!" Steph declared, causing you to instantly drop your hand.

"What?"

"It's not fair if you're the only one who doesn't do it!"

"Uh," You hesitated, feeling your sisters' eyes locked on your face, "Okay I guess."

You looked up meeting Damian's gaze for a moment before you looked at everyone else.

"I uh... I like Gotham, my job, spending time with you all and uh my favorite color is f/c."

Silence followed and Steph leaned on the table locking eyes with you.

"What about your favorite vigilante?"

Part of you stirred, tempted to say your own vigilante name when you had a sense of guilt wash over you. It wasn't really fair to your sister, was it? She only knew Batman and- and and now you were trying to find a reasonable way to pick Robin, weren't you?

You shrugged, "Uh I guess I'd have to say Robin since, despite the many different ones, he's just as consistent as Batman."

Steph narrowed her eyes and Damian looked at you, surprise faintly on his face. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed your sister rolling her eyes. She then leaned forwards, capturing Damians attention.

"Your turn Baby Wayne."

You winced at the nickname catching Steph and Duke miming gagging motions and shook at your held back more laughter.

"Alright," Damian said, "I enjoy art, it is so intriguing to see the different depictions of peoples inner most toils. I also revel in animals and taking care of them. While I find picking favorites childish, I will partake out of fairness. Green would have to be the most suitable color and..."

Damian stopped, looking at you for a moment before he looked at your sister.

"I would have to say V/N seems the most competent out of the newer vigilantes."

You felt a very faint blush rise on your cheeks and your sister giggled in delight.

"Oh really? That is so interesting. I love art too! And green is such an amazing color."

Damian nodded as she smiled coyly, the door to the kitchen swinging open as Alfred walked out with trays of plates in his hands. You noticed how your sister watched Damian look at Alfred, his brow slightly furrowing, before she darted up.

"Oh Mr. Pennyworth let me help you with that."

You noticed Damian's eyes following her as she approached, also Alfred's tight grin as he opened his mouth to protest but decided not to stop her from taking a tray from his hands and setting it on the table.

You knew how much Alfred prided himself on being able to take care of the household. Down to even setting food out he found it... offensive when people forced help upon him. He didn't mind if you offered, you recalled once offering to help wash dishes and his soft nod. But when people force their help- he had told you it seems as though they are saying he is not good enough- too old or incapable of carrying out his duties.

Wincing you dug your nails into your palm as your sister continued to "help" Alfred out. Thanking your lucky stars once everything was set out and she finally returned to her seat. With that, you all began to plate up food and dig in.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was around 5 pm when your phone buzzed, the familiar name flashing across the screen with all the familiar words. You were needed for patrol. Your sister had been out almost all day, her internet friends showing her their favorite spots and getting all the "tea" about her brunch at Wayne manor a few days before.

You were a tad frustrated she was using your friends to gain popularity but decided she could dig her own grave. However, upon receiving the text you knew you had to tell her you wouldn't be home until late at the very least. After all she was staying at your place... even if she was never there.

You sent a message back essentially saying you'd be there for patrol, then you shot your sister a text right before you left.

Y/N: Hey! I just wanted to let you know my boss called me in tonight. Apparently, they don't have anyone else who can cover my shift. So, I'll be getting home late.

She did not reply but you could see that the message was read, sighing as you gathered your things and headed to the cave knowing you couldn't expect to be able to leave your stuff around here for much longer.

With your bag hoisted over your shoulder you headed to Wayne manor. Finding Tim on the bat computer and Oracle on your coms.

"Looks like I've got double the help tonight, " You weakly joked.

Neither of them replied so you got dressed, commed up and headed out, half expecting Damian to already be out there. You, however, were surprised to discover that he was not at your normal spot. So, you assumed he was out chasing a criminal or watching from someplace else. Bouncing around the rooftops you looked for any sight of him.

You could have sworn you spotted a flash of his classic colors in the alleyway and descended to investigate. The alley was musty and wet, probably from the rain the night before. Looking around you didn't see any sign of Robin.

"Looks like fifth street's clear," You muttered into the com.

As you readied yourself to go back to the rooftops a figure lunged at you from the shadows, slamming you onto the ground a glint following him as he did.

"Oh shit!" You hissed your finger sliding from the com as a frantic voice began on the other end.

The figure- no, the thug raised the glint, and you realized it was a knife. Fear raced through your veins, and you instinctively pressed your distress signal. The adrenaline coursing over you and drowning out the voices on the other end of the coms.

"Come on you stupid bitch," The thug snarled, "just die already!"

He went to thrust the blade down, but you yanked your leg up and shoved him off of you. Scrambling to your feet as he fell backwards. A snarl of sorts escaped him, and you watched as he rose blade ready in hand. He swung at you again and you barely dodged, your brain beginning to wonder where the hell Robin was and why he wasn't here to help you already.

While in your stupor of thought the thug lashed out again, his blade barely catching your arm, but slicing right through your gear and causing a burst of pain and blood to spill from your arm. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to focus.

The thug readied himself for another strike and you kicked outwards, sending your foot directly for the knife. You felt the impact into his hand and heard his cursing as the knife went flying backward. You landed and felt your lungs screaming as the thug cursed louder.

Was Robin even coming? What the hell was going on, wasn't he your partner? Wasn't he supposed to be there for you in the most dangerous of moments and you there for him?!

You turned, hoping to get to a more open area so that... that if he was actually coming Damian would be able to see you easier.

However, something grabbed your hair yanking you backwards, you stumbled passed the thug heart racing as you scrambled to your feet. You backed away a bit more hoping to catch the thug off guard. You looked over your shoulder then turned back.

A fist swung out hitting your face, you recoiled chest heaving as the heartbreaking realization you were all alone dawned on you. He wasn't coming.

Reaching up you grabbed onto a fire escape ladder and swung yourself forwards kicking the thug in the chest and sending him skittering backwards. You half climbed up fingers latching onto some round you could not see, and hands grabbed onto your legs. In an act of frantic reaction. You release your grip on the latter allowing the thug to pull you down. however, as you went you slammed the object into his head hearing his faint grunt before slamming into the ground. The heavy thud noise told you he was down for the count.

Spitting out blood, you rose to your feet wobbling as the thug twitched on the ground. Something hot burned in you, and you swung your foot forwards, straight into the thug's gut causing them to go stiff.

Chest heaving and breaths more like pants, you wiped the blood away from your mouth as you heard frantic voices over the coms.

"V/N! V/N are you alright?"

Heaving out a sigh you nodded slowly and answered, "I've been better."

"Thank god, backup will be there soon, hang tight."

"I have a question."

"Uh yeah?"

"Where the fuck is Dam- where is he?"

There was silence and you felt your blood begin to boil. They knew, they knew where he was, but he didn't have the decency to tell you he wasn't going to be going out tonight.

"He's-... he's out." Tim stammered.

"I'm shocked, you are covering for him. Since when would that-" You faltered as you pressed a hand to your bleeding nose.

Oracle voice broke through your rising haze, "He's on a date with your sister."

"What?"

"He's on a date with your sister. He didn't think he'd be gone for so long. He told me he'd be back in time." Oracle remarked calmly.

You swallow, feeling something in you begin to shatter, “My sister?"

Silence followed on the coms, and you closed your eyes for a second remembering her coy smile at him just the other day. And-and how his eyes followed her.

of course... of course he's with her.

"Where are they?" You whispered feeling your throat begin to ache.

"Y/N I don't-" "Where. Are. They?"

"At the restaurant just past the park, the little Grecian style place."

Your- your favorite restaurant. They were at your favorite restaurant. You bite your lip, feeling your hands curl, nails pressing into your palms.

"Y/N don't do anything stupid."

You hissed, shaking your head, "I'm not, I just... I just wanna see it with my own eyes. ... since when, have I ever not been levelheaded?"

Despite what you had said your heart shattered as your mind screamed. Over and over again

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it

Trembling, you waited before bounding towards the restaurant. You skittered to a stop on the rooftop across from the restaurant. It took less than a minute to see them sitting at a table near the windows.

The coms went silent, and you stared through the window. Watching the two laugh together. Damian oblivious to the time and your sister's eyes glinting as she pressed a hand onto his arm. It was a tactic you knew well and noting Damian's back- his body language, it was working. You should have known, when it comes to your sister… you will never be the first choice.

You should have known she will always be chosen over you. You took in a shaky breath.

"Y/N... are you okay?"

"D-don't tell him." You whispered feeling something warm slip down your face.

"What?"

"Don't- act like this- tonight, never happened. Please. Pretend this didn't happen that I don't know... please." Your voice cracked as you moved away from the restaurant.

There was more silence than a clicking sound.

"Tracking data and video footage are gone. Com records will be shredded once tonight's over." Oracle remarks, "what do you want us to tell him?"

"Tell-tell him that you told me he wasn't coming, and I decided to take the night off. Tell him that Nightwing and Hood went out and everything was fine."

"Alright...you should probably go home Y/N."

"Okay... I'll see you all tomorrow." 

______________________________________________________________

Curled on a couch in the Wayne manor library, your eyes darted towards the door, you weren't even attempting to pay attention to the book in your grasps. You knew- knew Damian would be in here soon. And then- then you would be able to ask him what he was doing. To see if he'd try and keep it from you.

At first you weren't even going to mention the other night but... your sister had bragged- bragged about her date. Claiming that Damian had told her all sorts of awful things he thought about you. And to prove it, you should ask Damian if the two of them went out. While you knew what she said wasn't true. Damian wasn't the type to badmouth someone behind their back. Instead, he'd say it to their face, and you'd never heard anything actually awful from him. And to make it all worse, your sister declared as she left, she would be coming back after her ceremony. That- that she had things-people who she couldn't leave behind. That you had no idea what to think of, but you were unsure of whether what she said was the truth. Unsure and uninterested.

However, part of you was .... curious. Curious as to whether or not he'd tell you. He'd be honest and say that he liked your sister, that he was attracted to her. And even though it would be painful to hear, you wanted so desperately wanted him to. You hoped and prayed and begged fate, the universe and God for him to tell you.

You didn't want to lose yet another friend... no, no despite how much it hurt to think of now. Damian was so much more than a friend.

It should have been obvious to you. With how much you craved his presences and adored his smile. How you took almost every opportunity to lean against him and hear his heartbeat. How your heart would flutter when his hand brushed yours or when he said your name. God, were you always this sappy?

Groaning you pressed your face into the book, of course you just had to notice these feelings when your sister came.

"What did that book ever do to deserve, you slamming your face into it?" A familiar voice asked causing your head to snap up.

You swallowed meeting Damian's eyes with a weak laugh, "Nothing... I'm just- it's been a long week."

Damian nodded before sitting down, right next to you. Before- before your epiphany, you would not have realized how close Damian was in a setting as simple as this. And with how you were sitting it'd be hard for him to not be sitting that close.

"I concur." He replied opening his sketch book.

You shifted shooting him a few glances, part of you hoped he'd just tell you without questioning. Another part just wanted to stare at his face for a while. To take in his presence and relax. But you couldn't. Not with all these questions and worries bubbling at your mind.

"What do you wish to say Y/N?" Damian remarked finally looking up and directly into your eyes.

You froze feeling your entire face flush as you dropped your book and stuttered.

"Oh! I- I-uhm... I was just wondering what you were up to the other night patrol got called off. Usually, you asked me to come help you with some of your sketches but that night-" Before you could even finish, he interrupted you.

"I was with Colin and Jon. They wished to spend time together since we are 'friends'."

Something bitter was suddenly on your tongue as you recalled him sitting across from your sister at the restaurant, the image of his back searing int your mind.

"Really?"

"Yes, what did you find yourself doing?"

"Just reading," You mumbled eyes dropping as you felt the air leave your chest.

He was lying. Lying to you.

It almost seemed as if the world came crashing down around you as his words- his lies blared over and over and over again in your mind. A burning was in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to breathe as a single question repeated over and over and over.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Was it because he had... he had feelings for her? If so, why couldn't he just be honest? Was it because he was scared of the way you'd react? Did he not trust you? Was it because your sister was telling the truth? She was coming back to Gotham because of Damian? Were they- were they going to be in a relationship? If so, why was he hiding it, why was he lying?

Your head spun with questions and worries as your heart shattered in your chest, the realization crashing down on you. She did it again. She had taken another person from you.

You in took sharply and Damian placed a hand on your arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Uh? Oh yeah, " You lied blinking slowly, "just tired. I really wasn't expecting S/N to come."

"Maybe you should get some rest." Damian softly replied.

You nodded your mind screaming as your heart raced. You- you couldn't take this anymore. There had to be a change. Something-something had to be different.

Rising slowly, you picked your book up and set it on the couch absentmindedly waving goodbye.

"I'll see you later." You muttered as your heart jumped to your throat.

"Yes, of course... shall I tell Kent and Wilkes you say hello?"

You froze in the doorway of the library as a plan began forming in your mind. You looked over your shoulder seeing Damian's eyes locked on you. You smiled and nodded,

"Of course."

With that you walked out of the room, down the hall. Then- then you were running, running down the stairs and to an office. Panting you bit your lip and squeezed your fists.

With a heavy breath you pushed the door to the office open and made eye contact with none other then Bruce Wayne.

"Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked his brow furrowed slight concern on his face as he took in your disheveled figure.

"I wouldn't call this meeting a pleasurable one," You softly began before raising your chin, "Mr. Wayne, we really need to talk."

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The air was fresh, and you took in a deep breath hoping to admire the beginning of a new day, unfortunately that was not in today's cards. Your phone buzzed and you swallowed seeing his name flash across the screen. Slowly letting the air leave you, you answered and pressed the phone to your ear,

"Hello?" You mumbled, only to hear Damian's prompt inquiry instead of a greeting. "You are acting rather irregular as of late, is there something that has been disturbing you?"

"No, no I'm not and I'm fine... unless you know of something that might make me act strange?"

"I do not understand what you are speaking of. Are you implying there is something I have done to make you act irregular?"

You went silent grinding your teeth as you shook your head, resisting the urge to pull your phone away from your face, "Nevermind... why did you call?"

"I was curious as to why you have been avoiding me. And before you go on blathering that nonsense that you are not, I know you are."

"Why does it matter?"

"You are always saying that we are...how did you put it? Ah yes, best friends. Am I wrong in saying such acquaintances should keep in contact and even spend time together?"

"You're not wrong in saying that best friends do that."

"Then what am I wrong in saying? That much is evident by your choice of words."

"That we are best friends."

"Pardon?" Damian voice sharpened causing you to swallow.

"I'm not your best friend Damian... at least not anymore. I-I don't consider us best friends."

"Then what exactly am I to you now?"

"That... that is what you are concerned about? Not why I suddenly changed by mind or that it might have been because of something you've done?"

"Y/N, if you wish to tell me something, say it. I do not care for you beating around the bush as they put it."

"You lied to me Damian." You calmly stated feeling tears building up in your throat.

He went silent before replying his voice trembling just enough to tell you he was lying. "What on earth do you mean?"

"You're lying again..." You paused closing your eyes, "Damian, I know you too well for that bullshit to work. You lied to me about what you were doing the other night. I know you were with my sister... I know you were, on a date with her."

"I-" Damian began, before stopping

There was more silence, and you squeezed your hand into a fist, silent and painful tears spilling from your eyes, "You betrayed me. I-I should have known you were going too, that you would. Everyone- everyone always does... they always chose my sister over me. They always decide to put her first even if I was friends with them originally."

"I do not understand how going out with your sister is betraying you."

"That's the best part Damian, it's not. But lying to me about it, helping feed into my sister's taunts and torments-"

"I never fed into that, I would never Y/N. This- this is all a- a misunderstanding."

You ignored him and pressed on, "Abandoning me when I needed you most, when my life was in danger... to be with my sister at a place- a place I showed you... that is one of the most utter betrayals."

Damian went quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut finally, finally letting him know what actually occurred that night.

"I went on patrol that night, I got ambushed and attacked and and- I waited for you." You heard your voice crack as your crying spilled over into your throat, "but you never came. God, I felt like such a fool, especially when I found out you were with her. I feel like such a fool."

"Y/N I-"

"Do you know what makes this all-worse Damian? Do you know what hurt the most? What burns so deeply it hurts to even fucking breathe?"

He was silent on the other end, and you continued, half sobbing as you did,

"I actually thought that you'd come, I actually thought that you cared. I actually thought that you- that you would be different and that- that-"

You took a slow breath, "I actually thought you might return my feelings. I thought for once- for once my sister couldn't take something -someone I love from me. Yet here we are."

Damian in took but you blazed forwards knowing what he was going to say, you'd heard it all before too many times.

"I know- I know!" You seethed, "She's not just anyone and it makes me wonder, what- no who am I then? Who am I too you Damian?"

He didn't reply and you hiccupped pressing a hand to your face so- so thankful you decided to do this over a call instead of saying all of it in person.

"I know who I am, even if you don't know who I am to you. I am not the quiet girl who I use to be." You muttered looking up towards the rising sun, the pit in your stomach both growing and weakening, "I will not sit aside as my sister tramples over everything and takes what remains. And I am definitely not the girl who is going to stay friends with, let alone partners with someone who knows how I feel about my sister and chose to... and chose her. You chose her over me. Despite all we've been through you lied to me. And-and what hurts the most is had you told me... had you told me the truth? I wouldn't have cared. But you hid it and tried to make it seem as though you were on my side. You- I- I love you, Damian. Actually, and truly love you. In a romantic way. And had you told me the truth- had you not lied... let's just say I wouldn't be leaving Gotham."

"What?!"

"I, am leaving Gotham. I already resigned as a vigilante.... she is planning on returning after her ceremony and I-I can't live with the sight of the two of you together... not- not with feeling what I feel." You in took a breath hoping that this heart wrenching- this heartbreak would be quick so that in- in your new home you'd be able to start fresh.

"Where will you be?" Something almost sounded frantic in Damian's voice, but you must have been imagining it.

"I will be leaving, going somewhere my sister has- well to quote her, 'have been to enough for a lifetime.' You don't need to worry I won't try and hold this over you... in fact after this call I'm getting rid of my phone."

"I will- I will not stand for this!" Damian snarled his voice cracking on the other end, "you will stay here."

"You don't control me Damian... if fact. If I'm being completely honest after all of this- after what's happened. You mean nothing to me." The lie was bitter on your lips, and you bit your tongue to hide your sobs.

"Y/N... forgive me. It's just I-...You don't understand- please. Please, He sounded so desperate it made your heart ache in a different way, but you couldn't let him get to you, you'd come so far, "Please allow me to explain. I beg of you."

"No," You softly replied digging your nails into your palm, "No. I won't hear any explanations. I won't listen to your honey coated lies because I'm sick of it Damian. I am sick of being used and disposed of. I'm sick of being the second choice, I am sick of being thrown away the second people find 'something better'.

"I made a mistake, please."

"Are you sure it was that you made a mistake and not that you were caught lying?"

Damian went quiet and you had to press your hand to your mouth to stop more cries from escaping.

"Goodbye Damian, despite all that's happened... despite all you've done, I hope you have a good life."

"Y/N no please I-"

You ended the call before you could hear the end of his sentence. Removing the sim card from your phone, you took in a breath then threw your phone into the nearest trash can.

Pressing your back against the complex's wall you buried your face into your hands and sobbed. Letting all of your emotions and feelings out. It was a matter of seconds before someone was hovering over you and you looked up to see your new roommate's concerned face.

"Are you okay Y/N?"

"Yeah, " You nodded wiping the tears from your face as you hiccupped, "I'm... I'm much better. Thank you... seriously, thank you so much Jon."

Jon Kent sighed with a weak nod as he gave you another look over.

"Of course, I'm always happy to help out a friend... especially one who is willing to help me cut my rent in half."

You weakly laughed before rising to your feet, wiping all the stray tears from your face.

"I'm happy to have a place to stay."

Jon nodded again looking you over before he turned towards the city, "How about I give you a tour to get your mind off things?"

"Tour? hmm, yeah that sounds good. Let's do a tour."

"Alright, but first," Jon smiled as he gestured to the city, "Welcome to Metropolis Y/N."

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @krswrites @thefallingstarlights @masset-fotia @neon-scenery @ssak-i @legendarylearner18

[sharkksee]

THE BIRD AND THE CAT !!

──── Damian Wayne x Thief!Reader. 934 words. Part one here.

He had let you go. You escaped thanks to him, he didn't use violence, he didn't chase you, he didn't send you to the police. He let you go, he easily let you go with all those bills of your goal. Why? Why did you have to steal his heart?

He can't think about that, not when it's about you. You are a criminal, he should put you behind bars. But he knows he can't, and you know it too.

“You haven't been stealing in a while, fleabag.” Damian spoke coldly as he watched you approach a window that you silently opened of the jewelry store, preventing you from even entering.

His eyes look at you penetratingly, analyzing your every move. Is it attraction you feel? He can't feel that, not with a thief like you. He is Robin, he is a hero, not a hypocrite like Batman.

You turn around, seeing the young man in the Robin costume behind you. You sigh with disapproval and descend from the window that you failed to interrupt, landing on the ground.

“Oh, my bad.” You say, with a hint of sarcasm, as you leans towards the boy, attentively. “I returned to action because I knew you would come, little bird.”

His eyes watched you and studied you for a few moments, his gaze was curious, but he continued to hide it. “Were you waiting for me?” Damian asked calmly, the smile on his face becoming more subtle but more threatening, he didn’t trust someone like you.

“Yes, I was waiting for you.” You said as you walked until you were in front of him, as if you were challenging him to a duel, as if you weren't afraid of him. Because you know that, despite his attempts to catch you, he will never dare let you go to the police. This is a game that will only continue if he lets you get away with the robbery with dirty hands.

“You know, you really should leave the stealing for people.” Damian said with a confident tone. But his curiosity was winning over him.

The young hero enjoyed the fact that, despite his best efforts, the thief could escape his watchful gaze, and that the more he thought about you, the less sense it made. You seemed like the type of character he would despise the most, yet something drew him towards you, sending shivers down his spine.

“Nah, It's obvious you adore me, admit it.” You smirked at him. “You can't get bored of me.”

“You’re wrong, cat.” Damian said, looking at you intently, his words sounded cold and harsh. Damian’s voice had completely changed when he addressed you directly. He seemed unapproachable and intimidating, yet something else lurked beneath his gaze. Perhaps the little thief wasn’t as bad as he thought.

As if he couldn't do anything else but look into your eyes, he was hypnotized by their color beauty. He wanted to look away, but something about them was calling his name. He was confused, but he liked it.

“Ah, is that so?” You smile as he took a step closer to Damian, who remained still in his same spot, not moving. Damian stares at you. He watches your movements, and it seems to him that you are doing it on purpose to make him feel jealous, to make him lose your concentration. He's not sure, but the little smile on your face is adorable. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mind says another.”

He tried to hide his attraction, and failed miserably. His heart was racing as he got closer to you, his movements becoming slower. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you in his arms. The idea was so appealing, so strange…

“Don't think you can trick me, cat,” Damian said, calmly, barely moving a muscle. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you, he couldn't deny that his heart was beating at a furious pace. He wanted to do something more than just kiss you and let you go.

“How does this game end? Does the thief finally get captured and sent to the police, or does the criminal escape with the hero's heart?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You leaned closer, your breaths touching the other's face with an intoxicating softness. Damian's mind was bursting with questions, were you doing that to distract him? Or was this a real scene, beneath the veil of crime alley?

His body trembled, and he felt his heart beating wildly. You were beautiful as you leaned forward, closer to him. The heat of your breath was something else, that was it, he couldn't resist you anymore.

Damian’s heart raced, he closed his eyes and captured your lips with his own. He moved his hands to your hair and let himself go, kissing you passionately, he could no longer hold back, and that scared him. His feelings for you were real, and they weren't supposed to be.

You had captured him without even realizing it, you had conquered his heart. He knew this was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so damn right. The feeling was new to him, he never felt this way for anyone. Was there something more? Was it possible that he really liked you?

Damian opened his eyes slightly, looking at you, damn. He was doing what he swore he would never do. He was letting the thief steal his heart.

“You know what they say, little birds like you aren't too hard to catch.”

“Just shut up, fleabag.”

[sanguinessunflower]

Dick: Be careful around Christmas, don't get shot

Jason: There's a lot of people getting shot

Jason:AND STABBINGS!!!

Don't forget about the stabbings

Dick:That's my favorite thing about New York- the never ending, violent crime

Jason:Only reason I'd go to New York

---

Just a little thing because I was driving home from work and decided to listen to the radio for once and heard this

I figured to put some batboys there too

[rocker-socks]

not to be insane but Stephanie Brown is so underrated and i really do hate to say its misogyny but. well. It is.

[daddyshadowsingerazriel]

An aesthetic board of something that I’m working on for Azriel

[batfr1es]

i like to imagine the boys all try to look out for damian by trying to not let him have the same inner turmoil and trauma they have.

like:

dick had a huge responsibility placed on him as robin, even though he asked for it, those shoes were much too big for a child. it’s made him build a need to help everyone- and sacrifice his own needs in turn. he tries to make sure damian doesn’t feel the same need as well. learn that you shouldn’t set yourself on fire to keep another warm. yet dick burns to make sure damian doesn’t have to.

jason is an angry person. he knows this, but it’s not like he was ever taught how to analyze and address his anger effectively- when willis was angry, he hit. when jason is angry, he hits. and bruce never taught him the tools to grow emotionally- he made jason feel like a villain as soon as his violent tendencies showed. he tries to make sure damian doesn’t also feel like he’s inherently bad and unable of change- even if jason doesn’t believe the same for himself.

tim has had to seek out almost every bit of love he gets by proving himself useful- from his parents and failing, from bruce by shoving himself in the role of robin, from the other family members by proving he’s capable, even getting friends because he went out to build his own hero team. hell, as soon as Dick didn’t need him as robin, he was pushed out . he tries to make sure damian doesn’t also feel like if he didn’t seek out attention no one would care about him. he doesn’t think Damian really needs to be reminded, though. he tries not to let that fact sting too much.

growing up the way he did, duke couldn’t let many know of his passion for writing and making poetry- the narrows isn’t a place where you can just show that like dumb softie interests like that. who cares about the way the light of sky before the sunrise gently lights up his room when there’s violence everywhere around him. he tries to make sure damian never feels embarrassed about his art, even if it isn’t a tough guy interest to have (which it totally is, cause there they’re badasses so automatically all their interests are badass too)

[augenblicklich-lila]

boy meets girl (Tim Drake x OC)

It's been years since I really published any of my writing. It's scary. But this seems to be the year where I do things I usually wouldn't. So fuck it. Just for funsies. Be nice to me, yeah? Love y'all ♡

I am generally a person who prefers reading/writing with OCs. I do have x Reader stuff though.

That being said: Ameena is my baby but feel free to see her name as a placeholder. I didn't specify much about her tbh and it would feel like getting rid of her if I turned her into Y/N myself T-T.

These two give me 2017/2018 music vibes. Don't ask me what that means. Alexa, play I Like Me Better by Lauv or sth.

- Lila ♡♡♡

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ ♛ （ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ━━✫・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

SYNOPSIS: All Ameena wants is a peaceful night at home after a stressful day. Watch some TV until her brain is fried enough to simply pass out. Too bad a certain vigilante ends up crashing her date with her couch. Quite literally.

WARNINGS: Mentions of wounds/injuries and blood, those being treated, etc. All that shebang that comes with being a crime-fighting vigilante. Nothing graphic though.

WORD COUNT: 1957

It had been a tiring day, so Ameena settled on doing absolutely nothing but lying on her couch and watching TV, dressed in an oversized, comfy sweater and shorts, her hair in a messy bun. As she was halfway through Guardians of the Galaxy 2, the lights and every single electronic in her apartment suddenly turned off, making a not-so-silent squeak escape her.

As her hand frantically searched around for her phone, her mind already screamed at her to get some salt and make a circle, just in case. That worry intensified by a hundred times when a crash from her bedroom echoed loudly through her apartment, followed by some pained groans and then utter silence.

She jumped when the lights came back on and waited for more noises, yet Ameena heard nothing. Her body toyed around with the idea of panicking even more, but she forced the anxiousness down and, after grabbing her trusty bat, made her way into her room.

For a moment, the sight made her dizzy. The costume, the gadgets, and oh my god- "Where the heck is all the blood coming from?!" she whisper-yelled to herself, throwing all the questions and confusion out of the window, probably along with her common sense, and dropped her bat, hurriedly checking on the boy. 

There was a big cut on his forehead, more scratches on his arms and face and a gunshot wound in his shoulder. "Please have an exit wound, pleasepleaseplease-" Ameena breathed a sigh of relief when she found it and quickly dashed to the bathroom to get one of the first aid kits she always kept around, starting to clean the wounds and all the blood once she was back in her room, thanking whatever was out there that she was part of her local Emergency Response Team. 

Otherwise, she would've probably fainted. And there was no way she could take him to the ER, dressed like that and unconscious. There was also the fact that he would most likely have no way of identifying himself, and really, that was all just too troublesome.

As she undressed him and tended to his wounds, her mind didn't stop trying to wrap itself around what the hell just had happened. As much as a part of her wished it was just an extremely good cosplayer that had somehow climbed several floors into her secure apartment after he'd gotten into a very bad fight, she knew this was the real deal after seeing all the traps in the suit that she luckily didn't trigger.

"Did I get high? Is there a gas leak?" she ran a hand through her hair, getting up and throwing all the bloody gauze, bandages and towels into the trashcan, eyeing the mess that was her room. "He must've crashed into my dresser when he landed, shit." she gathered all the clothes that were strewn around, shoving the drawers back into place and picking the glass shards from broken picture frames.

The moment she stopped bustling around, the reality of what had occurred crashed down on her. "Oh my god, Tim Drake is in my apartment. What.the.fuck."

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

Six hours later, at about four in the morning, Ameena was checking his vitals once more, making sure his pulse and respiration were normal and taking his temperature, frowning when it was quite high compared to the slight warmth she'd felt on his forehead just an hour ago. 

"Maybe he was injured for a while before he even arrived here?" she wondered out loud to herself. That would explain the incoming fever, at least, because she had been very thorough with the cleaning of his wounds and dressing them properly. She gently placed her hand on his hot forehead, jumping lightly when the boy groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open.

"I was," he answered in a hoarse voice, not seeming to realize where he was, or more where he wasn't. He squinted up at Ameena, who quickly snatched her hand away to dim the light of her bedside lamp. "Who- where-?"

"Shh." she gently pushed him back down when he tried pushing himself up into a sitting position, trying to keep her movements to a minimum, not wanting to come off as a possible threat. She knew she'd be freaked about waking up in a place you don't know with a complete stranger. Well, Ameena knew who he was, at least, not that it would matter much. "My name is Ameena and you're in my apartment. Crashed in here, quite literally." she lightly joked, gesturing at her messed-up drawer.

His eyes flickered around the room, taking everything in at a rapid speed. Then they snapped to the shredded remains of his suit and his half-naked state, his chest that was covered expertly in bandages and the bandaids plastered all over his face. His fingers instantly rushed up to his face, because for some reason his dizzy brain felt the need to confirm that he was unmasked in front of this girl.

"Don't worry," Ameena held her hands up in front of her. "I would've known who's under the mask anyways without taking it off and your head wound was bleeding a lot." the moment the words left her mouth, she cringed. "Wait, I should have worded that better. I'm not a stalker or a villain if that's what you think." taking a peek at the look on his face, she buried her face in her hands. "That is what you think. Perfect. I just- I mean no harm to you or anyone, really, so please don't do anything- I have no idea how to explain without sounding like a nutjob but I have proof, I swear, and-"

"Stop." Tim placed his hands on the girl's shoulder, slightly concerned with how red her head was getting. "Breathe. Ameena, right?" receiving a nod, he continued. "Just calm down and start explaining. I'm not gonna do anything, I swear. I'm just as confused about this situation, so please go on. Slowly this time, though." he sent her a slight smile when she took a deep breath, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

"Okay so, to simplify it, you're not in your universe anymore."

Tim nodded slowly, taking this in. "Do you know another version of me?" Definitely not the weirdest thing that happened to him and also not the weirdest question he ever had to ask.

"Well, kind of?" Ameena answered, grinning sheepishly. "I think it's best if I just show you. Promise me not to freak out too much?" If it was anyone else she was talking to, she'd probably try easing them in, but Tim had always seemed like the type of person who'd appreciate the simple, hard facts delivered straightforwardly. And maybe an interesting and unique way of looking at things, so she threw caution to the wind and handed him her phone. "Just google yourself while I get some stuff." 'Some stuff' being her precious Red Robin comics and some others. "Oh and I feel like Tim Drake will be a more effective search than Red Robin. Don't want to end up looking at the restaurant info, right?" 

With that she escaped to the living room, face flushed from that awkward as-hell attempt at a joke. She gathered up the comics from the shelf, taking her sweet time to give Tim a moment to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a fictional character in this world.

She walked back into her room, setting the things down next to herself on the bed. "So, are you losing your mind yet, or...?"

"I'm very tempted to say 'what the actual fuck'"

Ameena snorted at that, smothering her laughter behind her hand. "Go ahead, I'm not stopping you. In fact, I have more what-the-fuck-material, right here." she placed the stack of comics on his lap. "Be careful please, they're precious to me and I will most definitely cry if anything happens to them."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" he carefully picked up the first volume of his own comic, staring at his own face on the cover with what looked like a mix of bewilderment, objection, awe, and a bit of confusion. "From 2009? Please tell me we're at least in the same year."

"It's actually 2018. August 22nd."

The raven-haired boy breathed a sigh of relief. "That was the date back home. That's something at least." without thinking, he dropped back down on the bed, groaning in pain. 

"Dude, you have to be careful with that." a look at his dressing told her that the wound opened again. Giving him a blank stare, she picked up the comics to bring them to safety and far away from the blood. "There goes the great job I did on that wound, Timothy." she swiftly grabbed some sterile pads, gauze and alcohol wipes, removing the bandages and getting to work.

Tim cringed, not only at the pain but also at the choice of name. "Please just say Tim. Timothy sounds-"

"Posh? Second-tier classic? An aristocrat. Or spoiled brat-" she cut him off, giggling when he let out an indignant 'hey!'. "Which is none of the things you are...probably."

"Probably?"

"Well, yeah. I don't actually know you. Just because you're one of my favorite characters in a comic series. God, this is such a messed-up thing to say." A few hours ago, all this was nothing but fiction, like theories about the multiverse and dimension travel and now- "I think I need to sleep soon." she said, rubbing her eyes once she was done cleaning the wound and starting to wrap the bandages around it again.

"You're good at this," he commented quietly, leaning forward so she had better access. "You got experience with stuff like this?"

"Wound care and first aid, yup. People crashing into my place from other worlds, not so much. But Emergency Relief and that kind of work tends to be a lot more chaotic." she yawned, stretching her arms and smiling in satisfaction at her work. Grabbing her pajamas, she left the room, changing in her living room, behind the door. 

"What are you doing?" the vigilante asked, watching Ameena grab her pillows off the bed, along with a blanket. "You don't have to sleep in the living room. Your bed is big enough, or I could take the couch-"

"No way in hell. You're injured and I gotta get some meds for you in the morning before you even think about walking around the apartment." staring at the space Tim had made for her, she huffed, throwing the pillows back down and all but throwing herself onto the bed. "Fuck it, I haven't slept in like 30 hours, I deserve this."

"That's not good for you, you know." Tim pointed out, once the light was off and the room was shrouded in darkness. He didn't need to see anything to hear Ameena lift her head and feel her incredulous stare, cracking up with laughter a second later.

"That's a lot, coming from the guy who has whole Tumblr pages dedicated to his sleep deprivation and coffee addiction." she shot back, snuggling deeper into her blanket. After a few minutes of silence, she finally dared to ask. "What are you gonna do now?"

A troubled sigh escaped the male. "Wait, I guess."

Ameena hesitated, delicately grabbing Tim's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, not knowing what to say or do otherwise. How do you comfort someone in his situation? "I'll wait with you, if you want," she mumbled, smiling when he squeezed back. 

"Okay." was all he said, sounding half-asleep already.

"By the way, if you do anything while I'm asleep, I'll kill you."

"Fair."

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ ∧＿∧ （｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨) “Hie thee home, little wanderer.”

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

[noisilyscreechingsong]

“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

**

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

[purple-writer8]

Heather - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“But I watch your eyes as she walks by. What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky… she’s got you mesmerized. While I die.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, oblivious az

1.2k words

Masterlist :)

Crushing on the shadowsinger was a bad idea, you knew that since the moment you joined the Inner Circle centuries ago. It was a family, and familiar dynamics could very well be affected by your stupid little crush, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating for him.

You were a master of lies, Azriel’s second in command as Spymaster— you were good at being a chameleon— at lying. So you’ve spent your entire life in the Inner Circle, lying to everyone, hiding your feelings for Azriel because surely you were not worthy enough for the shadowsinger. 

He was one of the strongest warriors in Prythian, the only current shadowsinger, an Ilyrian. You… you were just a sneaky thief turned spy. A lesser fae from the Winter Court, with eyes so white, you were terrifying to your enemies. Fingertips so cold, that with enough conviction, whatever you touched turned into frost. 

You weren’t enough for Azriel, or anyone really. The High Lord had found you three hundred centuries ago, you had somehow snuck into Hewn City, and then you had stolen heaps of artifacts and sold them in the Winter Court for profit. You were stealthy and quick, something he had appreciated when Cassian and Azriel finally brought you to him.

Rhysand gave you two choices: to be handed over to Kallias as a criminal, or stay in his court and serve him— because he was sure you would excel as a spy. In exchange, you got a family, gold, clothes, and a warm bed. It was a no-brainer for you.

Azriel and you were a dream team and with time, your feelings for the shadowsinger went from admiration to adoration. Who wouldn’t adore him? He was perfection, he was everything, and he was the love of your life— you weren’t his, though. 

You had never expressed your feelings because, frankly, you were not sure that you could handle rejection. So you pined and loved him in silence, hoping that one day a miracle dawned on him, and he would somehow fall for you— a frosty lesser fae. You knew you two were not mates, but cauldron, you could wish and yearn. 

It was more than wishful dreaming, though sometimes you thought that just maybe— maybe he reciprocated your feelings. He was so kind to you, so doting, so careful.

Though, that all stopped when Elain Archeron dropped into all of your lives. You liked Feyre, and loved Nesta— but Elain, you hated her. The middle Archeron was perfection, everything you were not. She was soft, kind, beautiful, High Fae, and… Azriel liked her.

You knew it was bad that you hated her for being of his interest, but you had never once claimed to be a good person. Two years into her arrival and you could not stand the likes of her. 

You were sitting in the River House, playing board games with the Inner Circle, Nesta, and Lucien. Much to your delight, Elain hadn’t joined. It was the beginning of winter in the Night Court, and though you were made of ice— you weren’t immune to the cold. You shivered as you laid down one of your cards, and it caused Cassian to laugh at you.

“You turned my room into ice last winter solstice, and now you shiver?” He teased you, making you roll your white eyes at him. “Should’ve brought a coat,” Feyre taunted you, and you nodded. “Guys, I really thought it wasn’t as cold,” you chuckled, rubbing your cold as ice hands together to get some warmth, which was to no avail because there was no warmth inside you. Frost appeared in your hands at this action, causing you to groan. 

 Your heart stopped, though, when you felt a warm sweater wrapping around your shoulders. Your eyes flickered to Azriel, who gave you a small smile, “thank you,” you said softly.

 “It looks better on you than it does me,” the shadowsinger shrugged, his shadows coiling around your frozen hands, trying to warm you up. You smiled, about to answer, but his eyes snapped away from you, as did his shadows. Your eyes followed his gaze, meeting with Elain as she walked through the living room and into the kitchen. Your heart dropped, she was a sight for sore eyes, a sight for Azriel’s eyes. 

 She had him mesmerized, and you felt like you wanted to die. Inching away from Azriel, you continued your game, dropping his sweater unto the couch behind you. You were an ice fae, you could manage. 

When dinner came around, you were quiet all through the affair. You seethed in silence as you watched him drape the very same sweater he had given you, over Elain’s shoulders. The cold pulsed through your veins, and soon your utensils were turning into ice as you watched the scene unfold.

Elain told some story about her up-and-coming garden, and you got the urge to go and freeze her flowers to death. Obviously you did not. She was an angel, a good person. 

You kind of wished she were dead. You reprimanded your mind for being so evil. How could anyone ever love you? You were terrible… and not even half as pretty as Elain. Your thoughts were dark, and your heart made of stone-cold ice. Love was not something you would ever get. 

After dinner, you seethed outside. The snow that fell over you felt like fire on your skin, and you could feel your fingertips freezing as they created small snowflakes. “Come inside, it’s so cold outside,” that husky voice you worshiped spoke from the from door, causing you to turn to him.

His shadows rushed to you, swirling around your body to shield you from the snow. You turned away from Azriel, not wanting him to see you in your essence. Your veins shone black underneath your pale skin, your eyes glowing white, while ice slipped from your fingers and wrapped itself around you. 

You heard his footsteps crunching in the snow, then large wings wrapped around you in a protective manner as he towered over you. “Don’t look at me,” you mumbled, your eyes casting downward, not wanting him to see your eyes.

“Why?” He asked softly, scarred thumb wiping away frost that had gathered on your cheek. Then it clasped around your chin, tilting it upward so you looked up at him. 

His hazel eyes skimmed over your face slowly, “what’s wrong?” He asked softly, making you tilt your face away from his grasp. “Don’t.” You stated. You wished he knew, wish that you had been obvious enough, because you were so tired of pining for someone who did not love you back. 

“What?” He asked, a puzzled look happening upon his chiseled and devastatingly beautiful face. “You gave her your sweater,” you did not care how preposterous you were being, you couldn’t hold back. You had enough of this. 

"What? It’s just a sweater, does it matter?” Azriel asked, his shadows coiling around his ear to whisper in his ear. Jealous girl, jealous fae. 

 “You like her better.” The jealousy was pouring out of you, manifesting in ice that crawled all over your body. 

 “I can’t keep wishing I was Elain.” 

-

Part Two

Author’s Note:

IK the elain/azriel x pining reader is done a lot butttttt i love this song and i wanted to write my take on the triangle with heather as inspiration!

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.

“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.

Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.

It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.

“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.

You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.

You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”

Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.

“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.

“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.

You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.

If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.

He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.

“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”

He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.

“Can you take me to my room?”

He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.

“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.

His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.

“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.

A break. You want a break.

The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.

Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.

Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.

“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.

“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost laugh.

“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.

You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.

Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.

‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.

While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.

This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.

Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.

Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?

Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.

You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.

“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.

“…What?”

“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.

“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-

Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.

You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.

And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.

…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.

Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.

You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.

Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.

The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.

You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?

You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.

The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.

This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.

Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.

There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.

This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.

The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.

Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.

Of all fucking… George.

You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.

Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.

He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.

You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.

‘You’: Why are you contacting me?

‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.

Stupidly, you reply:

‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’

You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.

No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.

You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.

You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.

You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.

You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.

‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?

Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.

You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.

“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”

There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.

Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.

And you can’t find your voice.

It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.

Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.

You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.

Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.

George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.

…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.

“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.

The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.

You included.

Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.

George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.

“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.

You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.

“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.

You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.

…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.

He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.

And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.

George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.

Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?

Well, of course, it started biting.

George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-

You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”

“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.

He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”

“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.

You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.

He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.

“I bought it. That’s mine.”

“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.

This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.

“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.

“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.

“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.

Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.

You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.

The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.

What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.

But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.

So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.

You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?

…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.

The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.

You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.

‘You’: I miss them.

‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.

You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.

You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.

And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.

What you settle on is simple.

‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.

‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[b00kdiary]

Can I please request more poly batboys x plus size reader smut? It’s my favorite thing in the universe!

Relax | Bat Boys

ACOTAR Bat Boys x Plus Size reader

Where the reader goes into the Birchin sauna for some peace– and then falls asleep. She wakes up and finds she isn’t alone anymore. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel desperately want to help her relax. (Hint: High Lady Feyre likes to watch)

Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, fluff, and major smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

Mor had told me that after my long day, an hour or two in the Birchin room would be exactly what I needed.

And she wasn't wrong.

The second I stepped into the room; the heat hit my half-bare body straight on. Clouds of slick steam melted against my skin and seeped into my sore, aching bones, and muscles. It was exactly what I needed.

The room was smaller than I had anticipated with wooden benches parallel on either side and a narrow walkway separating them. There was a box at the furthest end, where billowing clouds of hot, searing steam erupted from, thick and constant that I could just about see a few steps ahead.

I had settled into the bench furthest from the door, my eyes getting heavy as I tugged my towel off my body. I nearly moaned as the heat hit my bare breasts and the throbbing spot between my thighs. Every inch of me was exhausted.

I sent a blessing up to the Mother for Morrigan's advice.

Relax, Mor had told me.

And I found that it was so much easier to do in silence, with that blissful heat caressing my bones and the feeling of my sweat trickling down my body. It took maybe a few minutes before I was sprawled down on my back and my eyes were drifting off, oblivion calling my name.

***

I realised two things the moment my eyes blinked open.

One- it had been hours since I fell asleep. Sweat coated every inch of my skin, and the ache in my bones had completely disappeared. And a towel now covered my bare breasts and exposed core.

That led me to realisation two- I wasn't the only one in this room anymore. There were eyes on me.

I shot up the second that reality sunk in, my hand clutching my towel to my body and my wide eyes frantically taking in the room. The room where three Illyrian males now sat, half-naked, corded muscles slick with sweat and their dark eyes wholly on me.

"Hello, darling," Rhysand smirked, star-flecked gaze dancing with amusement. I swallowed thickly, dragging my eyes away from his handsome face, from the damp strands that fell so perfectly into those violet eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," I cleared my throat, not meeting their searing, unrelenting gazes. Cassian chuckled, rough and low, and something hot burned through me, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

I tugged the towel around me with shaking hands, my legs unfurling as I shifted to sit facing them. I clutched that towel to my body like my life depended on it. And it felt like it did, especially as I finally took in those three males before me.

Rhysand sat directly opposite me, and my eyes tracked his bare chest and torso, arms braced on the bench behind him, and powerful thighs spread. He shot me a saccharine smirk, that kind that told me he knew every single thought racing through my mind right now.

My hand tightened around my towel. His smirk broadened.

I tore my gaze away to where Cassian and Azriel sat on the other side, a healthy amount of distance separating the males. It was almost painful seeing their tan, tattooed bodies slick with sweat and exposed for me to take in, every hard, rippling, perfect inch of them.

Cassian grinned as my gaze met his, cocksure and pleased, especially when he glanced down and saw how white my knuckles had gone from gripping the towel to myself. But Azriel remained as cool as ever, dark eyes merely tracing up my trembling body in a long, indulgent caress.

His eyes told me he knew what was under this towel. That for a few blessed moments before they had covered my naked body, he had been enjoying the sight of me. That it was burned into his mind.

Something molten ached through my core, through my stomach and thighs at them before me, watching me, silent and still, like predators. And I thanked the Mother that they all wore towels around their carved hips, thanked the Mother for the mercy of them being somewhat decent right now.

"You know, Y/N, most females don't usually consider it a mercy to see us covered," Rhys mused, dark brow cocking. "Typically, they're thanking the Mother that we're unclothed, not clothed."

"Most females are easily pleased," I shot back drily, and the retort made all three males chuckle, lips quirking at my pointed stare. "Besides Rhysand, you should know better than to invade a lady's mind. I am entitled to some privacy, yes?"

"Angel, you're entitled to anything you want," Cassian said, bracing his forearms against his thighs and something blazed in me at the sliver of tan, muscled skin I could see peeking through the towel around his waist. "But Rhys doesn't need to invade your mind for us to know what you're thinking."

"And why is that?" I angle my head, trying to keep my voice from shaking. Gods I was wet, and my nipples were rubbing against this towel. And every place where their eyes touched felt like a brand on my skin.

"Because we can smell it, love," Azriel said, voice quiet with dark menace. I knew they could hear how fast my heart was racing and as my eyes moved to that beautiful face, I couldn't get down enough air. "We can smell every dirty thing you're thinking, just like we can smell the wetness dripping down your pretty thighs right now."

Cauldron.

Now I really couldn't breathe.

I gave all three males another appraising look, not bothering to hide the fact I was enjoying them too. I tracked the beads of sweat that danced down their carved bodies, taking in the elegant dark tattoos twining over the broad shoulders and chests, the powerful tense muscles of their thighs and calves, and their magnificent wings, erected high and foreboding behind them.

The hand that clutched the towel to my body like a lifeline loosened. Just barely. And the room seemed to thicken with arousal and dark power, rippling off those males like tidal waves now.

"If you can smell it, then why are you over there?" I murmured, brushing my damp hair back from my shoulder. I loved how they tracked every move, grumbling when my neck and shoulder were exposed. When my supple cleavage was exposed.

"Is that an invitation?" Cassian asked, and his voice was low and gravelled in a way I had never heard it before. I smiled at the General, then the Shadowsinger and then my smirking High Lord.

"What about Feyre?" I asked Rhys, guilt blooming to life in my chest. His smirk softened, and I felt a hand brush down my mental shield, as soft as a lover's touch.

"Feyre has already given me permission to watch," Rhysand said gently, and when I dropped my mental shield for him, I felt his arousal, his interest- as well as hers. "Cassian and Azriel will take good care of you I'm certain. And Feyre would like very much to be able to see it all too."

Another tender touch down my mind. A slender, feminine hand wreathed in starlight and shadows. I crooned at it, the thought of being watched by both my High Lord and High Lady.

"Yes," I panted, and I didn't hesitate to let the towel slip free from my hold. A groan of approval danced through the air, and I burned under the feel of so many eyes dancing across every naked inch of me. "That was an invitation."

Azriel and Cassian rose in unison. And as they stalked toward me, Azriel wreathed in shadows, Cassian grinning with intent and yanking free the towels wrapped around their waists, I sent another thank you up to the Mother.

I heard Rhysand's rumbling laughter in my mind, but I couldn't be embarrassed. Not as I took in Cassian and Azriel before me. Took in their cocks. My hands clenched into fists at the sheer size of them, thick and heavy and veined – powerful, and swinging with every slow step they took toward me.

My core clenched in anticipation of them being inside me. Of how full I'd feel.

Azriel's face was wholly dark, the smallest smirk tugging at his lip as he and Cassian both dropped onto the bench on either side of me, powerful thighs straddled over the wood, caging me in between these two glorious bodies.

I turned, not waiting a second before I laced my fingers into Cassian's damp, silken hair tugging his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He growled softly, large hands clamping around my waist and thighs and digging into my flesh. I moaned as another pair of hands joined, scarred and rough, kneading along the fat at my hips and stomach appraisingly.

'Look at you,' Rhys purred through my mind, voice thick with arousal. I moaned into Cassian's mouth at the praise I felt from my High Lord, the touch in my mind going straight between my legs. 'Such a good girl for my brothers.'

I was squirming and breathless as their hands toyed across my body. Cassian suckled and kissed down the junction of my throat, his hands fondling my breast. I gasped when Azriel's head ducked forward, lips wrapping around my nipple and tugging hard.

He groaned as he licked and nipped and rolled the bud, alternating between the sweet touch of his lips and the brutal, raw attention of his teeth. A breathy moan escaped me and my eyes fluttered open at the deep answering groan Rhysand released from across the room.

I looked over to where he sat, and an intense pleasure rocked through me as my eyes met his, the violet eclipsed into midnight in his gaze. He smirked, watching my back arch as Cassian and Azriel both suckled and teased each breast.

His towel was gone, and I couldn't tear my gaze away as I watched his ringed hand stroke up and down his thick length, long, graceful fingers wrapped around his veined cock and squeezing tight. I draped my thighs over Cassian and Azriel's thighs smiling when Rhysand's eyes dropped between them and his hand tightened.

"Please," I mewled, twisting my fingers into Azriel's short hair, and dragging him from my breast back up to me. He grunted, deep and rumbling as my lips captured his, scarred hands gripping my thigh as my tongue swooped in and brushed against his. "Please, please, fuck me."

"Gods, listen to her beg," Azriel taunted, nibbling at my bottom lip as his hand inched higher and higher up my thigh. His eyes flashed when he ran a digit through my slick folds, teasing my swollen clit. "Cass, you think she's been good for us?"

Another breathy moan rang from me as Azriel toyed against my clit, and Cassian chuckled at my throat, lips and tongue and teeth bruising the soft flesh there.

"Please," I whined again, not caring how desperate I sounded. I just needed them to fuck me, I needed more than the bare touch Azriel traced through my core or the lazy kisses Cassian pressed to my throat. "Cassian, please."

"How could anyone say no to this face? To this fucking body?" Cassian murmured, a feral grin lining his lips when I spread my thighs wider for him, letting him see and smell how badly I needed it. "Tell us how you want it angel, how do you want me and Az to fuck you?"

My eyes clamped shut as Azriel's fingers pressed down against my clit, callouses and scars brushing so good with every circle he made against me. I couldn't think straight as his shadows coiled up my body, toying with my taut nipples in a way that made my entire body shudder.

'Come on, darling,' Rhys said, sending another shock wave of his arousal through my mind, 'How do you want it?'

"To-together," I stuttered, fighting to blink my eyes open, to meet those expectant, primitive males staring down at me, looking like they could devour me. "I want you both, at the same time. Please."

'You filthy little thing' Rhys chuckled hoarsely through my mind. Azriel and Cassian looked feral as they watched me like the very thought of them both taking me would end them. 'Want all your holes nice and full, huh?'

Rhysand sent a shock of power through my mind, and I gasped, jolting into Azriel, a mixture of pleasure and pain rocking through me. "I asked you a question, Y/N," Rhysand said and when my eyes met his, I saw nothing but pure unfiltered power in his eyes. "Answer me."

"Y-yes," I choked on my breath as Azriel ran his fingers through my folds, something akin to a sob lodging in my throat when he squeezed my swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger – a warning. "Yes, yes. I want all my holes to be filled, please – "

"Easy, easy, love," Azriel chuckled darkly, and I knew tears were leaking from my eyes now, my body so overstimulated from their teasing, needing release.

Cassian and Azriel both helped move my trembling body, pressing sweet kisses to my skin as they turned me, so my back was to Cassian's chest and my front faced Azriel. The Shadowsinger smirked at me, and I moaned when he took his fingers, slick with my arousal, and rubbed them harshly against my lips and into my mouth.

"Have you ever done this before, angel?" Cassian muttered against my ear, canines nibbling against me. I moaned around Azriel's fingers, whining when he plucked them out so that I could reply.

"Not at the same time," I whispered, melting into Cassian's hard chest. The two males grumbled in approval like they enjoyed the idea of taking that first from me. My anticipation grew as both males began palming themselves, Cassian's length brushing my ass cheek and Azriel's tip dangerously close to my core.

I bite down on my lip hard to contain my noises as Cassian braced his hands under both my thighs lifting me, and I nearly climax when he spit on his tip, aligning himself with my back entrance. Azriel placed both my hands on his chest, shifting forward so that his cock nudged my wet hole.

"What's your safe word, darling?" Rhysand asked softly, his touch and Feyre's caressing down my mind, coaxing, comforting, loving. "How will my brothers know if it's too much for you, what word?"

"Red," I breathed, my chest rising and falling in erratic waves as Cassian and Az both pressed against my entrances. So fucking big. It's going to hurt; I know it will – and yet that excited me even more. "I'm ready, Cass, Az – I want you."

"And we want you," Azriel whispered, mouth brushing against mine in a sweet, breath-stealing kiss. "Relax for us, love."

I sighed into Azriel's mouth, letting my body turn soft with the breath. I reached around, curling my hands into Cassian's hair, pulling his face to my neck, and curling my other hand around Azriel's shoulder for leverage.

'Good girl,' Rhys rumbled through my mind, voice like honey, thick with arousal and dark intent. And that feeling grew intense as I gasped out, Cassian and Azriel pushing their tips into me in sync. Approval – stark approval from my High Lord and High Lady rippled through my mind.

"Oh Gods," I cried out at the intrusion, their heads barely in more than an inch and I was already shaking from the pain of it. "Oh my fucking Gods – "

So full. So fucking full and even though my eyes clenched shut, I could hear them both panting, teeth gritted and bodies tremoring with the effort it took to be gentle with me. I knew that it must have been like Hell, to be sinking into my warmth and not be able to fuck me the way they wanted to.

"Angel, you're squeezing around me so fucking tight," Cassian groaned into my neck, his sweat dripping down my chest and mixing with mine. They slipped in another inch, growling as my needy holes sucked them, tight like a vice. "Fuck –"

I was whining now, a sound half caught between a moan and a sob, both holes stretched beyond what I knew possible, and as they reached their limit, hitting spots I didn't know existed. I tasted metal in my mouth from how hard I bit down, my toes curling from the intrusion of them both.

"Open your eyes love," Azriel commanded, panting and rough. I blinked, my eyes fluttering, and it took so much effort to get past how my body reacted to meet those incredible, blown-out hazel eyes. "There she is."

They both paused, their pulsing lengths inside me so deep that they had no space left to fit. I sucked in breath greedily, my body cemented between them and loving the feel and smell and hardness of them.

'You're doing so good, darling,' Rhys praised softly. My gaze turned to him, a moan slipping past my lips as I watched him stroke himself, beads of pearly pre-cum leaking down his hand. He smirked at me, eyes tracking where Cassian kissed my neck and Azriel toyed with my breasts – waiting for me to adjust.

'Your High Lord is so proud of you,' I moaned again, louder when that feminine star-wreathed hand touched my mind too. Rhys laughed, fisting himself with delight in his eyes. 'Your High Lady is proud too, so fucking proud."

"More," I whimpered, resting my head against Cassian's broad shoulder, and rolling my hips experimentally. They both moaned the sexiest sound I'd ever heard as they slipped deeper into me and that pain eased into something so much fucking better. "Move, please move."

Cassian's hand braced under my thighs, kneading my flesh in his palms as he lifted me higher, and it was so attractive, how easily he bore my weight with just two hands. I gasped as both males began rolling their hips into me, in slow and steady circles, brushing my walls so good my nails bit into Azriel's shoulders to keep me stable.

I cried out again and again as their movements became surer, my arousal making it so easy, my walls adjusting around them like they were made for me. Their grunts matched as they dove their hips into me, paces almost in tandem.

"So good," I turned my head, meeting Cassian's lips. Our mouths collided furiously, a clash of teeth and tongue and spit, every jolt of their cocks in me driving Cassian to claim my mouth. "Feels so-so good."

"Yeah?" Azriel mused darkly, and I gasped, back arching when one scarred, large hand clamped around my jaw, his movement rough as he forced my eyes to his. "Who would have thought – sweet, innocent Y/N likes getting fucked in both holes? Taking our cocks like they were fucking made for her."

Rhys groaned, and I felt a tremor of pleasure slam against my mind, so strong that my eyes rolled back. I felt like all my nerves were on fire, Cassian and Azriel fucking me harder now, skin slapping skin, their tips slamming into two spongey, sore spots in me I didn't know existed.

It felt so good, so fucking good –

"Are you getting close, angel?" Cassian panted against my ear as he thrust into me from behind. I could feel how erratic his movements became, worsened by how I clamped down. "Can feel you clenching around my cock so tight, you gonna come around us? Make a mess of our cocks?"

He bit down on my ear. Hard. And I moaned at the pain, moaned at how at odds it was with the pleasure spreading like wildfire through my pussy and ass, moving along my stomach and thighs, so intense, so all-consuming I felt it down to my toes.

"I'm so close – "

My breath stutters in my lungs as they both hit those perfect spots inside me and I feel my eyes start to roll as my climax approaches and then hits me – hard.

'Don't be shy, darling' Rhys says, darkness incarnate in his voice, and I can feel how hard his body is straining, can hear the wetness as he strokes up and down faster. 'Let us hear you, don't hold back.'

"Oh Gods – "

Azriel snarls as my core clenches and unclenches wildly, my moans embarrassingly loud as I cry out into the air. Cassian curses low from behind and as that fire burns through my core, a scarred hand wraps around my throat squeezing.

My eyes roll. My back arches. My toes curl. And everything is shattering inside me. Unlike any orgasm I've ever had, it's coming from so many different places, it's spreading so far, that I can't get down my breath. 

“There you go,” Cassian grits into my ear, my head lolled back and resting at his broad shoulder, gasping my moans into the air. My body is limp, recked with my orgasm that seems to go on and on – and I can feel both these males desperately chasing theirs too.

“Please, please – “ I was near sobbing as Cassian and Azriel pounded into me, hips rocking hard and fast, and deep, so fucking deep.

Cassian reaches that crest first, his thrusts erratic as I arched my ass into him, his large hands bruising on my hips as he drove stroke after stroke into my tight hole.

“Fuck,” Azriel swore, hand around my throat, panting for breath. His cock twitched and twitched, as if in answer to the way I clenched around him like a vice.

‘Look at you ruining my brothers, Y/N,’ Rhysand moaned, a whining edge to his voice, as he fisted himself faster, harder, his own orgasm fast approaching. ‘How could they resist filling up your tight little holes?’

I choked on my breath as a shock of pleasure recoiled through my mind and my body clenched, tight enough that I suffocated those two cocks fucking me relentlessly. Cassian and Azriel roared, almost in tandem, their glorious, sweating bodies turning hard as stone and jolting.

Hot and wet and endless they released inside me, their lengths halting as they spilled and spilled and spilled. I whimpered as Azriel brought his face to mine, crushing me into a kiss one that stole my breath, devouring me as Cassian slumped into the crook of my neck.

“Good girl,” Azriel muttered against my lips, his hand loosening around my throat, letting the air rush back in. I whimpered, feeling my lungs expand and Azriel growled in approval as our breaths mixed with every pant. “Such a good girl.”

I barely registered anything as my orgasm faded away, blinking back the haze that clouded me. I winced as Cassian lifted me by the thighs again, kissing my shoulder sweetly as he and Azriel slipped free from me.

Rhysand groaned, throaty and desperate as their come dripped out from both holes, bare to his sight as they slid and mixed with my arousal and down my thigh.

“Rhys,” I bit my lip as I glanced at him, my back pressed to Cassian’s chest and my legs stretched before me, over Azriel’s lap. I eyed the red angry tip of Rhysand’s cock, his knuckles white as he stroked slowly – yet to come.

My mouth watered as I traced the beads of pre-cum leaking from his tip and down his length, almost dancing perfectly in line with the veins of his cock. I wanted to lick along it, wanted to taste him, take him into my mouth and let him fuck my throat until he spilt every last drop.

I felt another wave of pleasure and stark, unrelenting approval ripple through my mind and body, but not Rhysand’s – Feyre. She liked what I thought, she wanted it to happen. Rhys smirked, and I knew he was having quite the conversation with my High Lady.

”Is that what you want?” Rhys purred, fingers freeing his cock, letting it hang, hard and upright between his powerful thighs. I moaned as he moved to stand. “You want me in that pretty mouth?”

“Yes, High Lord,” I whispered, my pussy throbbing. Rhys growled at the title, eyes narrowing into slits as he prowled toward me. Cassian and Azriel chuckled, their hands soothing my bare skin as Rhys came to a stop before me.

My heart pounded in my chest as I tipped my head up to where Rhys stood before me, every inch of me ablaze as he gripped his hard length, smirking as he leaned forward. My eyes fluttered as he dragged his tip over my lips, spreading his pre-cum with an approving hum.

That feminine power sparked, and I could feel Feyre watching through my mind, feel her praise and arousal as she watched her mate seconds from fucking my mouth.

“Open,” Rhys commanded, tapping his cock against my lips softly. I parted my mouth swiftly, eager, and desperate enough that Rhys chuckled. He slipped into my mouth, slow and steady, groaning as he did so, “Such a good girl for me.”

I hummed at the praise, running my tongue along his shaft as he slipped in further and further until he hit the back of my throat. I gagged, my jaw aching from the thickness of him. But Rhysand’s eyes clenched shut with pleasure, his thighs tense and shaking under my palms.

“Gods-“ Rhys moaned as I began bobbing my head up and down his cock, feeling him twitch in my mouth as I suckled and dragged my tongue along him, the sounds wet and furious in the air. “Fuck Y/N.”

He was close, he’d been fisting himself for long minutes, watching as his brothers pounded my holes. I knew as he hit the back of my throat again and again, as he fisted my hair tighter and tighter growling with every stroke that he wouldn’t last long.

I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to come, wanted to taste him.

“Such a filthy whore,” Rhys growled, and my body jolted when one of his hands slipped between my thighs, smearing Azriel and Cassian’s come over my folds. I cried out around him as he began roughly rubbing my clit. “First you milk my brothers and now look at you – sucking me dry.”

My body trembles with the stimulation of his fingers at my clit, rocking me with pleasure and I suck against Rhys harder, hollowing my cheeks, scraping my teeth just barely along the sides and feeling him come undone the harder and deeper I go.

Tears leak down my face, from the pressure of Rhys’s hips bucking into the back of my throat and then more tears as Cassian begins toying with my breasts, his heart thumping against my back as he pinches and rolls my nipples.

Rhys laughs when my eyes begin to roll, my moans reverberating around him as a head slips between my legs, where Rhysand abuses my clit. Azriel’s tongue. I’m near sobbing as Azriel laps up the come leaking from my asshole – Cassian’s come.

He drags up in a broad stroke, humming as he reaches my pulsing hole and pushes his hot, warm tongue into me, tasting Cassian, tasting himself, tasting me. It was all too much, Cassian tugging at my nipples, Rhys rubbing my clit, Azriel’s skilled tongue fucking into my pussy.

“With me, Y/N,” Rhysand commands roughly, feeling his climax and mine fast approaching. I gag as he bucks his hips forward, burying himself into the back of my throat. His cock twitched, a guttural animalistic sound ripping from him as he shoots hot spurts of his cum down my throat.

His fingers circle my clit faster, harder. Azriel’s tongue fucks into me, so deep and all I can do is choke around Rhysand’s cock as I fall off the edge again. Hot white release, like stars exploding across my vision, so strong that my body goes wholly still, only upright from the hands holding me.

A wave of arousal, of climax mixes with mine, and I can almost hear the sweet feminine sound of my High Lady as she climaxes too. Rhys feels it, our melding orgasms, and the satisfied groan he releases are enough to make me tremble as the fire burning in me wanes.

Rhys slips free from my mouth and as the air rushes back in, I swallow down his thick, salty seed too. The room is spinning, my body is aching, and I can feel exhaustion sweeping back in in waves. There’s movement around me, but I can’t focus on anything but my dwindling climax.

“Eyes on me, Y/N,” Rhysand’s soft, coaxing voice greets me. I try and level my breathing, blinking my eyes open and being surprised when I see his clear, bright violet eyes before me. He was crouched now, and I crooned when his ringed hand came to my face and brushed my cheek soothingly.

“How you feeling, angel?” Cassian whispered, pressing a kiss to my cheek from behind. I smiled, no, I grinned, the euphoric feeling of a post-orgasm starting to take root. Azriel chuckled like he knew it too.

“I am so glad Mor told me to relax in the Birchin,” I smiled, my voice sounding airy and lost. All three males smirked, male satisfaction lining their beautiful faces.

“We’re glad too, love,” Azriel smiled, adoration on his face as he kneaded his strong hands across the flesh at my thighs and calves, easing the soreness and tension there.

“Feyre’s glad too,” Rhys snorted, and I giggled when I felt her star-flecked hand brush along my walls, sweet and loving and happy. “In case you can’t tell.”

“Maybe next time,” I whispered, my voice bare. All three males paused at my mischievous words, Feyre paused too, “Maybe she could join.”

They grinned at me, and I could feel Feyre’s undeniable need.

Next time.

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

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[redhead-batgal]

Damian x y/n:  y/n fell asleep at the manor while hanging out with Damian and woke around 2am, y/n gets lost on way to kitchen and meets Jason and says " hello dummy thiccc man"

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Best Friend! and Gender Neutral! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Content: Technical one-sided pinning, simp! reader, aged up Damian and reader, cursing, humor, lots and lots of fluff.

Word Count: 1,305

(P.S. I made it best friend! reader because I LOOVVVVE Best Friends to lovers. It's like my favorite troupe. I also changed it a bit, but I think it'll be fine. Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Human nature and emotions were so strange. Peculiar, how extreme they could be. It was like magic, how strange people could be or act in general. How rage could transform a person momentarily, how joy could bring people out of the darkness. Love though, Love was stronger than any other emotion. It was stronger and more powerful. A black magic of sorts that would take over and change you into someone completely different.

And you had just been hit by its spell.

Part of you didn't entirely understand why you caved to his every whim. Why the tiniest frown and gleaming of eyes could make your stomach swirl and instantly feel guilty.

The rest of you... it-it knew. Knew that you were wrapped so tightly around his finger you might shatter if you did something wrong. Knew how the smallest glimpse of his smile would send your heart racing and make you weak in the knees.

Damian Wayne had a magic of some kind, and you were completely and totally enchanted. So enchanted you sometimes forget the way the world actually works and that you should think before you speak. Unfortunately, tonight just so happened to be a night that his magic overcame you.

Drearily blinking, you found yourself curled into Damian's side. His breathing was slow and steady, calming, even. For a moment you almost drifted back into that peaceful bliss of sleep.

However, your mind jumped. Making you realize how close you were to him and that- that... you probably shouldn't be. No- no you definitely shouldn't be.

Here and now, he was vulnerable, and he hated being vulnerable in front of people. You couldn't stay, if you did, he'd be upset and- and... and you really really hate it when he's upset with you.

Slowly slipping from his grasp, you dropped towards the floor, hoping that you won't startle him awake. Sneaking towards the door you take a moment to look over your shoulder, he took a breath in before letting it out softly. Closing your eyes for a moment you let out a small sigh of relief.

He was still asleep, thank goodness. Part of you didn't want to leave, seeing him so peaceful and happy made something warm bubble in you. However, you knew you had to go, for him and for you. After all you have been here for a while... Wait, how long have you been here?

Sliding out the door you peered around the corner, hoping to see someone wandering around who you could ask. Instead, you are met by pitch darkness and an eerie quiet that shook you to your core.

Oh god, what time was it?

Half scrambling down the stairs you bit your lip. Please oh please don't be morning yet. Your mother would kill you if you stayed out all night.

Clock, clock... where oh where is a clock? Where was the closest one??? Living room? No Steph and Duke broke that one yesterday with their Wii sports tournament. Anywhere else made your mind spin and then- then a thought rose up suddenly.

The kitchen.

Yes, yes, the kitchen should have a clock... and a phone.

The more you moved through the darkness the later you thought it was. Was it four? five? Oh god, please let it be the same day. Blinking, a bit, you noted light seeping under the door rather absentmindedly.

Your hand pushed the door open, and you found the blinking numbers on the microwave. They sent a tumble of nerves straight to your stomach.

Two am. It was two fucking am.

How in hell were you going to survive this? It was a twenty-minute drive home and at minimum, a two-hour walk. There was no way you'd make it home before the sun came up.

A clatter dragged you from your thoughts and you looked up to see a man sitting at the table. He had short dark hair with a white streak through a front section. His eyes were greenish, not as green as Damian's but something about them seemed similar.

It took you no more than a second to notice he was not wearing a shirt. And your brain froze, your thoughts suddenly deciding to spill out.

"Hello dummy thicc man."

Silence followed and a snort of sorts. You blinked seeing a smile stretched across the man's face. Heat flushed through you, and you closed your eyes.

"Dammit. I said that aloud, didn't I?"

The man nodded, leaning forward ever so slightly. He winced instantly and you then spotted the bloodied spot on his torso.

"Holy shit, you're bleeding!"

A weak smile was now on the man's face, and he nodded. Your eyes went wide and your hands darted forwards.

"Are you going to be, okay?"

"Yeah, Alfie's takin care of me.'' He looked you over and snorted once again, "you're the gremlin's?"

Your brow furrowed and you tilted your head before blinking a few times.

“Uh, if you mean Damian, yeah I’m his friend.”

A smirk of sorts worked its way onto his face, and you began fiddling with your fingers.

"I'm y/n." You weakly say.

"Jason... though you probably know me as Todd."

You clamped your mouth shut as a wave of laughter built up in you. Somehow, he had managed to almost mimic Damian perfectly. Looking away from him you squeezed your eyes shut as a giggle of sorts escaped you.

Finally, you looked back to Jason- no Todd... oh yeah. You had heard about him. Nothing really bad though. Strange, though him never being around probably contributed to that.

"The gremlin does have a type. Waffles was right."

You tilted your head again, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly. Waffles? Who could be waffles? you opened your mouth to question the nickname when a door swung open. You froze, only to see Alfred carrying a tray filled with bandages and antiseptics.

"Uh, hi."

Alfred smiled at you before setting the tray on the table. Jason instantly began reaching for things only for Alfred to whack his hand without looking away from you.

"I'm glad to see you, Mx Y/n. Did you sleep well?"

You nodded and heard the door behind you open. You then noticed a strange smile slide onto Alfred's face and Jason snorted again shaking his head.

"Hello Master Damian."

Looking over your shoulder in a little bit of horror, you found Damian behind you rubbing his eyes, his hair disheveled and pointing in many directions.

"Pennyworth," He yawned, "Todd."

Jason grunts in greeting and you stand frozen staring at Damian, your mind racing. Were you too loud? Did you wake him up? Was he upset?

"Y/n," Damian then said, holding out his hand, "come on."

"Huh?"

"We should go back to bed. School starts early tomorrow. Father would be very upset if he knew I was awake."

"Uh, but- I- why are you awake?"

"You left." He said with a slight, "duh." At the end.

You went very still as his words began to run rampant in your head. Did that mean you woke him up when you left? Were you too loud slipping out the door? Did you hop off the bed too sharply?

A hand took yours and you blinked, finding Damian before you. He pulled at your hand slightly. "Come on."

"But- it- it's two. My mom- she's-"

"We informed your mother that you would be staying the night. You do not need to worry Mx. Y/n." Alfred suddenly chimed in.

Looking back towards him you raised an eyebrow; he was nonchalantly wrapping a bandage around Jason's torso. Tilting to the side you notice ripped abs. You only managed a quick glance before Damian pulled you from the room.

"It's time to sleep Y/n."

Turning back towards Damian you smiled before following after him.

"Coming."

Taglist:

@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @krswrites @thefallingstarlights @masset-fotia @yorsgf @ssak-i

[hana-no-seiiki]

Omg the dog shapeshifter ask is amazing but like- cat. i can already imagine Tim being all over you and being one of those guys where half his personality is just that he has a cat. Dick would 120% invest in those hoodies with the pouch to carry their cats, and Jason just carries you everywhere (wiggles be danmed).

The only person who has any qualms about it is Alfred because everything is covered in cat hair lmao.

meow. more pawtastic cat villain! reader w/ batfam

@sophiethewitch1 👅

You tended to take the lead when it came to your relationships with the Robins

They were just too busy with duty and heroism that they rarely ever took the time to be or get into relationships. So you would help them, cover them in that area per se.

Though there were times, like an actual cat, that you suddenly hate their asses or be indifferent. You didn’t notice it yourself really. Sometimes you were just stressed from real life problems and whatnot

or dealing with Bruce’s constant sermons about how you were a bad influence on Jason. Blaming you for all these strung up bodies across the streets of Gotham that had been tied up with yarn and catnip.

sometimes you just wanted to reel back the persona you’ve built up as a villain and just chill out

but you see, if there’s anyone who would notice the slightest change in your demeanor it would be the batboys

Tim and Jason would be the first. They spend the most time with you.

Instead of giving them a kiss or a quick fuck after a job well done, you’d just say goodbye and leave.

Not even in your signature cat joke filled way of saying goodbye

Hell you would even just teleport out of there without a word

Tim would have most likely observed you more, but Jason? Jason would be on your ass in seconds

“Hey, kitty? We need to talk.“

Did I mention that the boys love to use various cat related nicknames for you? The cringier the better.

(Damian just calls you pussy at times)

In anycase, Jason knocks on your door. But you do not respond. Like, for a long fucken time.

Ofc, he smashed the door open.

And what does he see?

Well first it was nothing. I mean his eyes weren’t directly on the floor immediately . But then he move his gaze down,

You, in your cat form.

He just about screams. Shrieks. Like I could maintain his sense of dignity for you dear reader but nah. It started as a shout of surprise before it turned into a high pitched cry, and lastly cooing.

He’s confused at first and is worried about your sudden disappearance til you cleared things up.

Something about a curse that turns you into an actual cat at random moments.

You said it interrupted a lot of your civilian business (school, work, etc.) and so your mental health and well being took a decline.

And boy did Jason go mom mode.

He’s more on the practical side. He makes sure you’re comfortable and guarded especially when in dangerous situations.

Will never let you go on a heist with this curse on going. What if you get shot by a guard? What if you get kidnapped by those horrid animal pounds? Not to mention those perverts that would… no he shook his head.

Definitely keeps you within arms reach at all if not most times.

Tim finds out soon after. You tried to ask him to respect your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself. He was scared to death that he did something wrong or exposed something he did that breached your trust.

He immediately buys a ton of cat related products for you.

Not only that he does an extensive amount of research on cat health and diets.

His rooms gets covered by different studies on cat cellular makeup before he realizes that

Oh crap, he kinda enjoyed this.

And he hasn’t looked up how to actually cure this curse of yours.

Damian soon follows. He’s got it the worst out of all members.

Prides himself with his wide experience and knowledge with animals.

He uses visits to the vet as a threat when you misbehave.

But you’re a villain, you don’t get scared easily right? What’s the worse that could happen at the vet’s?

… yeah he almost got you neutered/spayed.

Safe to say that you were much more obedient after that.

Bruce isn’t that available or good with pets, so he mostly just funds whatever the boys do hoping that it’d lead to them not destroying stuff or killing people for you any more than before the curse.

Dick is the last to find out, and that was because Tim dropped a whole thesis about why the latter should definitely have more [Y/N]-cat-duty hours!

I mean just look at those charts! Your happiness is definitely at its highest when you’re with him

(ignoring the fact that he showers you with catnip)

Dick is definitely the

Cuteness aggression that borders on abuse type of cat owner

Very touchy with you.

And yes he invests a lot of money to get have pouches on his suits for you to be in. If not you’d be like that one cat from Spiderman Miles Morales just hanging out from a backpack of sorts, designed so you’ll never fall out.

Collars.

These men have collectively spent around hundreds of thousands of dollars on cat related shit

And you’re still wondering how tf this curse came to be