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trulyhblue · 4 months

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MISS AUSTRALIA (PART ONE)

Katie Mccabe x Aussie!Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, praise kink, angry sex, dom! Katie, sub! Reader, enemies, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap.

A/N — I know Mackenzie wasn't at Camp but let's just skip past that :)

Masterlist

___________________

The game against Arsenal had been a complete disaster. No one could've prepared you for the monstrosity it turned out to be.

Two days before the long-awaited London Derby, you were in Canada alongside your fellow Australian teammates, basking in the double defeat against your Chelsea teammates Jessie Fleming, Ashleigh Lawrence, and the Canadian National Team. To be fair, it hadn't been all that bad. Some Canadian fans were dubbing it ‘revenge’ after the World Cup, but a friendly was hardly much vengeance in your eyes. They had beaten your B team with their A team, and you had only played the second game alongside the usual starters like Steph, Hayley and Alanna.

By the end of the second game, you had swapped shirts with Jessie, who smothered you in forehead kisses and walked alongside Ashleigh for the lap around the stadium. Steph and Caitlin joined shortly after, both of their jackets covering their sports bras; they had given their jerseys away.

Soon enough, Kyra filtered over. You poked your tongue out to the girl, who giggled and reciprocated the actions before hugging your waist. Dozens of fans banked against the barricade, holding out signs and jerseys to sign. Phones stacked on top of hands reached out as the group of you travelled around the loop. You still had a firm hold on Kyra as you peeled your shirt off, handing it to a little girl with big, bulky glasses. You signed her poster, took a photo, and thanked her before waving goodbye. Your boots had been cuffed and peeling after a nasty tackle by your opponent, so you didn't waste any time in unlacing them and passing them over to a pair of twin girls, who hugged each other and cried at the notion.

Steph and Caitlin mingled with their respected fans while you and Kyra continued to use markers and pens to sign anything that was within arm’s reach.

“Oi, y/l/n!” Caitlin called out, your head turning toward the girl who stood a few feet away. “C’mere, look at this.”

Kyra waddled beside you as you made your way over to where Caitlin had pointed. You couldn't help but notice the slight huddle of fans that had accumulated in that spot, several cameras filming the interactions with cheeky smiles decorating everyone’s faces.

You caught sight of the massive poster, reading it with a blank expression, knowing the cameras were trying to catch your reaction. The sign was coloured in red and blue, with a photo of you on one side, and none other than Katie McCabe on the other. You tried hard to conceal the scowl on your face, hiding behind a sly smirk. You ran your hand over the writing: ‘YELLOW CARD DERBY’

It was no secret that both you and McCabe had a notorious reputation for receiving yellow cards from referees. It was a running joke in the Football community, starting from when you had your debut for the Matildas at fourteen, against Ireland. Katie had gotten a card that game too, both of you receiving it for tackling one another. You played for Sydney FC before you moved to Chelsea, playing your debut match against Arsenal six months after your seventeenth birthday.

Katie had been sent off that match for nearly breaking your ankle, a red displayed in the air before she stopped off with a heated scowl across her face. You knew of her reputation from International games, recalling the older woman as an aggressive little shit that hated you for no reason.

London Derbys started to become all the more heated. After a while, both sides tried their hardest to not put you on at the same time, pressured into thinking that they’d end up being a player down due to your rivalry.

It got so bad that people started picking sides. Dividing the two London teams and causing hate to spread. You were younger than Katie by six years, which seemed to be the leading factor in why people believe that Katie is too harsh. On the other hand, Arsenal supporters reckon that you are immature on the pitch. In prior matches, you had been called a whinger, especially when you were around your sister-like teammate, Hayley Raso.

It is safe to say that you and Katie were not on agreeing terms, even off the pitch, with mutual friends to keep you at bay. You both competed for everything. You were neck and neck in the Ballon d'Or, scoresheet, heat maps, everything. It didn't matter if you weren't playing against one another, you were always compared.

But it didn't seem to bother either of you. In fact, you were certain Katie enjoyed it.

You did too.

“Do you agree with it?” Steph laughed beside you, swinging her arm around your shoulders, pointing towards a printed photo of you pushing Katie to the ground, blood smeared across your nose and lips. Beside it was another photo of the referee pointing towards both of you with red cards. You were looking at Katie with utter turmoil; your Australian Jersey was covered in mud, hers had streaks of dirt covering her socks, and a testing smirk written across her face. Behind the pair of you was a younger-looking Steph, her hand covering the shock on her face.

“None of those were my fault.” You answered, watching as the huddled crowd around you chuckled at your response. You didn't want to say the wrong thing, you didn't know if what you said was that funny. “I promise I don't do it on purpose.”

“Oh, yeah, right, Little Miss Goody-Too-Shoes.” Caitlin scoffed, poking your side. “I've seen you play, you're a ride-off.”

Kyra giggled like usual, swaying her hips into yours. She pointed towards the red card photo. “I don't remember that being an accident.”

You don't exactly know why, but your cheeks are stained a solid red, staining your freckles with a tint of embarrassment. Katie had pushed you over, laughing when your face met the cold, wet mud. It was not a pleasant memory you look back on fondly. “Shush, Ky.”

You felt a presence behind you lifting you up by a grip around your waist. You were pulled onto the shoulders of Macca, earning a yelp to sound from your lips, the interaction leaving fans laughing even more.

“Oh, Baby, what's wrong?” Macca said teasingly, holding your thighs with her hands. You looked down at her and frowned, the team’s nickname for you left you feeling a tad humiliated considering it was in front of people who didn't know of the handle. Kyra took out her phone, taking a few shots of the sight with the intention of putting it in her photo dump.

When Macca caught sight of the poster, she cracked up. “Oh God, that's good.”

“Put me down, Mackenzie.” You groaned, kicking your feet half-heartedly into her side. The Keeper did as she was told, but made the show of huffing and puffing as she let you off her shoulders.

“Do you want me to sign it or something?” You said to the boy holding the poster, watching as his eyes lit up as he nodded.

“Are you a Chelsea or Arsenal fan, mate?” Steph asked him, waiting as the boy shook his head.

“West Ham.”

This made Mackenzie’s head snap towards him. “Really?”

“Yeah, who the fuck supports West Ham?” Caitlin questioned, yelping when Steph whacked her in the chest. “Language, Cait.”

“You're a real one, mate,” Mackenzie said, walking up to the boy and hugging him, making him smile like it was Christmas.

“Who do you think’s gonna win on Saturday?” Kyra egged on, shoving past Macca and grinning at the boy, indiscreetly pointing towards herself and the other Arsenal girls.

The boy looked between them and shrugged, folding his sign back up when you finished signing it. His eyes landed on you. “Well, you're my favourite player, but Chelsea are always too cocky.”

“No lies said.” Kyra said, yearning you to push her playfully.

“What if I score a goal, will you go for me then?” You asked, holding out your hands.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, but that's if you get past Katie.”

You couldn't help but scoff, shaking her head. The girls around you smirked at your competitive nature, sharing knowing looks.

“I don't remember the last time McCabe scored against me.”

***

You were glad that at least you kept that statement true.

The video of you reacting to the poster had gone viral, and everyone found the interaction utterly hilarious. Not only did you have a reputation for cards, but you also had one for being a sub in important games like this.

But that assumption didn't seem to make an appearance today, as you waited in the tunnel beside Jessie, holding the hand of a little girl, waiting as you caught sight of Caitlin in front of you

“Are you alright?” Sam muttered, turning to face you with an inch of worry apparent in her eyes.

You looked back at her, nodding. “Yes, just tired.”

You said this in truth. You hadn't had much sleep over the past week due to the different time zones you were living in. Sam had an injury during the Friendly, therefore not being able to compete alongside your Matildas team. But the fatigue was apparent in everyone’s eyes. You even noticed it in Kyra when you saw her on the bench as you walked towards your starting position.

The fans were screaming at the tops of their lungs, but you slowly drowned them out as you honed in to concentrate. You looked to your left, finding Jessie throwing a thumbs up towards you. You smiled back at her, gulping down the last of your anxiety before the whistle blew.

You knew this would be a hard game before it even started, but Arsenal’s level of aggression was completely unexpected.

Fouls were handed out left and right, followed by a bit of push and shove from either side. You fought your way up and down the wing, waiting for an opportunity to surpass. Both teams were angsty with the ball, throwing easy chances away as the crowd grew in volume.

Sam hadn't come down to defend like she usually does, instead waiting past the halfway mark as the midfield continued to pass to and fro.

You grew annoyed at the lack of ball time you were receiving, even when you made a point to be out and open near the corner. Your breathing was ragged and tested, your patience running thin when the crowd of Chelsea players swarmed Victoria Pelova and leaving Beth Mead to shoot in the open.

“There were four of you, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered, dragging your hands over your face as you sighed, returning to your starting position once more.

It started to become ridiculous when you still hadn't received the ball, yelling out on the wing as the minutes passed with Arsenal in front. You hadn't been in the midst of any tackles or gameplay until the thirteenth minute when one of your teammates crossed the ball to you over the halfway line.

You dragged your feet across the ball, feeling the grass hit your feet as you sprinted toward the goal. You stepped past Lotte Wubben-Moy, leaving an open space to slot it through toward Kaneryd.

The ball had left your feet with a concentrated pass before your balance was cut short. A potent force left your legs to crumble beneath you. Your body collided with another, leaving your lungs without any air. Your head spun with nausea, the speed at which you were taken out leaving you heaving for breath. It took you a few moments to register the figure you had landed on, and how the crowd went wild at the shot that had passed Zinsberger.

“I’d never thought you liked being on top, y/l/n.”

The voice made your stomach churn even more.

“Surprised you have enough brain cells to think, McCabe.”

You rolled off her with a groan, your legs aching from the impact. You felt the hands of one of your teammates soothe the distant pain in your head, causing you to roll onto your back.

Instead, you were met by a red jersey. “You alright, Baby?” Steph asked, helping you up.

You didn't have time to answer Steph. She was bombarded with a shove from Lauren James, who turned to the ref with her hands in the air. “That’s a red, ref! The ball left her feet!”

“James, do not yell at me.” The referee fired back. “McCabe, this is your first and final, am I clear?”

McCabe shrugged her shoulders. “I slipped.”

Lauren looked like she was about to pounce. “Oh, you little-”

“What, eh?” Katie walked up to challenge the girl back. “Can Miss Australia not speak for herself?”

Kim Little, Arsenal’s captain, appeared in the mix. “Katie, that's enough! Walk away.”

“Can't handle a tackle, what a baby, shouldn't be on the field—”

“McCabe!” Kim snapped, which shut up whatever rant Katie was about to begin.

The ref turned towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder. The action was met with Arsenal boos. “Y/l/n, are you alright?” Looking concerned at your pained countenance. Lauren rubbed a hand across your back, eagerly awaiting the card Katie deserved.

“I’m fine.”

Maybe you shouldn't said no — maybe that would've landed Katie with a card. But you knew you’d be sent off if you did. You had just scored an assist to level your team. Katie McCabe of all people was not going to ruin that.

The game continued, your left ankle feeling tampered with as more tackles progressed.

It was clear that Arsenal were hungry for this win, leaving Chelsea left and right with calculated footwork and sprints across both their defensive and attacking lines.

When an Arsenal corner arrives shortly after, you run back to defend the post alongside Jessie. Steph is walking to take the corner with the ball in her hands, giving both teams time to find their spot in the box. Pelova was in front of you, Russo to your right. The majority of your midfielders banked against the goal in an attempt to stop the chances of Arsenal moving up two-one.

Steph was about to kick when you felt someone against you. Unknown hands grip your hips tightly, maneuvering them with ease that your body was stuck to them. Your breath hitched when you were pushed forward, forced to leave your place by the post.

“Miss Australia bent over for me?” The voice whispered, pricking the alcove of your neck. “With all these people watching? Guess she's not as innocent as everyone thinks.”

You weren't watching Steph’s long shot into the box, too angered by Katie to care. You didn't notice Amanda Ilestedt’s header into the middle of the goal, hitting the back of the net with a swoosh, met by North London cheers. Hell, you didn't fucking notice anything except Katie falling to the ground, your arms propelling her with so much force you fought to hide the flame that hindered your cheeks.

The whistle blew, causing celebrations to halt when both teams found the two of you glaring daggers at one another.

“Get off her, Y/l/n,” Wälti called out, running towards you and pushing you backwards.

“Nah, what a fucking ride-off.” You heard another Arsenal player say, making you stomp in the opposite direction, huffing in annoyance when the referee called you back.

Kim Little and Sam Kerr were standing by their respective players when the referee was scolding the two of you. It was obvious that you were painted as the immature one since it was made out that you needed to control your emotions more.

“I won't have you manhandling each other like idiots on my pitch. You play fair or you don't play. Understood?”

The four of you mumbled your understanding, filing back into place begrudgingly. Sam was ordering Jessie to swap with you, but you found yourself shaking your head, promising her you’d pull it in.

Turns out, you didn't.

The same circumstance of you pretty much skin-on-skin with Katie happened after Alessia Russo’s chip against Berger. 3-1 for an undefeated team was embarrassing, and no matter how many times you fed the ball well enough to become an assist, the communication just wasn't there.

“Get the fuck off me, McCabe.” You seethed, trying your best to squirm your way out of her grip, but to no avail.

“You need to stop all that wriggling, Y/l/n,” Katie responded, the smirk on her face was evident even from behind. “Those red cheeks couldn't have been from running.”

“I’m not red.”

“Ha, yeah, you and London both.”

Katie and you both got your yellow cards in the second half.

You knew people would find it funny online — the fact that you both got it at the same time — but the game felt like it had gone on forever, and at this point, all of Chelsea’s players were defenders.

You had a clear shot of the goal after Niamh Charles curled the ball to your wing, leaving you and Katie battling for possession near the sideline.

You couldn't help but notice how high her hands had gotten on your waist. Your knees were bending slightly so you could attain more balance, but maneuvering past Katie was a challenge, and proven extremely difficult.

You let out a struggled breath, angered at the lack of options your teammates offered due to their attacking absence. The ball beneath your feet went back and forth between the women in front of you. The two of you were complete mirrors of each other, both trying to nutmeg the other or humiliate them in some way. It was as if minutes had gone past when everyone was watching the two of you battle it out. It wasn't until Jessie came up behind the two of you, threading the ball out from beneath McCabe’s feet and dribbling it away that it seemed to have stopped.

You blanked when you saw Katie stretch her leg out, tripping Jessie onto the floor; leaving her limb on the grass.

“You’re such a cheat!” You exclaimed, pushing Katie with your hands. “You’re a fucking cheat, McCabe, and you know it!”

Katie surged towards you, her breath thick against your face. Your shirt was taken into her hand. She was so much taller than you. “Imagine needing your girlfriend to win your battles for you.” She spoke, her tone condescending. “The score says it all, Miss Australia. If only you weren't so distracted by me, you’d realise.”

She was looking down at you now, holding your shirt so tightly you knew that if you moved, she’d pull you right back in. Her accent was coarser than usual, sending you into a frenzy of disarray and warmth. She was towering over you, her build similar yet broader. Her smirk was minuscule, but prominent all the same. You knew you had lost the game, but you weren't going to lose this fight.

“And where’s your girlfriend, McCabe? Is she somewhere in the stands?”

You were pulled apart but Kim and Sam, the referee tramping over at the sight of the pair of you bundled up. The presence of the yellow card was something you expected, but not rewarding whatsoever.

“Get off my player, McCabe,” Sam ordered, holding a protective arm over your shoulder. Somehow, you knew what she was thinking, peeling your Captain’s arm away from you and marching off. In the distance, you could hear Katie speaking. “She's a big girl, Kerr. I promise it's never on purpose.”

Of course, she was mocking you, you thought. Of course, she saw the video.

You were replaced by Guro not long after that. The Chelsea cheers did not seep through your irritated exterior. Your head was pounding from the fall you had at the start of the game, and you winced at the tinge in your ankle as you ran off to hug Guro.

Emma Hayes strolled up to you, placing a stern hand on your shoulder. “I want you to cool off before you come back and sit down. You're going to shake each of those girls’ hands before you go home tonight.”

Without a second thought,, you stomped down the tunnel, making a point to let your metal studs echo all the way to the changerooms. At twenty-two years old, you had the most yellows in the WSL for your age. If the stats were compared, people would argue that you were higher than most of the older girls.

It was nothing you were proud of, despite the effortless compliments you gained for being potent in your determination to win. But you had been told by almost every coach that you could be too aggressive.

You kicked off your boots, peeling off your shin pads and socks to reveal the nasty bruise that was already blossoming on your ankle. Removing your clothes, you engulfed the hot spurs of water that left the shower head in Emirates Stadium. There was still half an hour of the game left when you were subbed off, so you made sure to take your time washing yourself from head to toe, soaking in the warmth that relaxed the tension in your muscles.

You replaced your game kit with some Matilda's trackies and a fitted tee. Combing your hair into a pony, washing your face with freezing cold water, you waited for your team to arrive from the game, feeling defeated and unprepared for the beating they were about to receive from Emma.

The changing rooms blocked out most of the noise from the game above, except from the thundering rumble of Alessia Russo chants that boomed after five minutes of waiting. You knew that had scored just by the sinking of your gut. The jetlag and fatigue were starting to hit you now, and you had half a mind to just pack up and go home. But you remembered Emma’s words to you before you stormed into the changing rooms. You knew she’d have your neck at training for the next three months if you didn't do as you were asked.

So you stood up, slotting your phone into your pocket, making your way back through the tunnel. The volume of the crowd was starting to get louder, and with each step you took, the less you felt inclined to follow through with the orders you were given.

You were about to turn the corner that led to the field when you were pushed back against the wall, your arms pinned above your head, your body caged in by someone tall and firm.

“Are your cheeks always so red, Y/l/n? Cause every time I see you, you look like you're on fire.”

“Piss off, McCabe.”

Katie was towering over you, unpinning your hands from their place above your head, leaning down so that you could see every detail of her face.

“You're free to go.”

“You're a right pain in the arse.”

She was laughing at you now. “Am I bothering you, Miss Australia?”

“Stop calling me that!” You knew your cheeks were flaming now but you couldn't help it.

Katie grabbed your face with her hand harshly, pulling you closer so that you were forced to look her straight in the eyes. “No, you don't like that?” Her hips met yours, and you squirmed. “What about Baby, eh? Everyone seems to call you Baby. You act like one so I guess it suits.”

“Katie—”

“Oh, so you're calling me Katie now, are ‘ya? I call you Baby and you call me Katie, is that what's happening?”

“No.”

Katie scoffed, placing her knee in between your thighs, keeping you planted between her. You had nowhere to put your hands, so you decided behind your back was appropriate. You felt the subtle movements of her knee in between your legs, her eyes watching for your reaction intently.

“No?”

You watched her head move down to your ear, her breath fanning across your neck. Her lips gradually grew closer to your pulse point, where goosebumps poured over your skin. When the warm sensation of her lips met your neck, your body subconsciously relaxed on her knee, making you jolt at the sudden friction applied to your core.

“Yes.” You ushered, pulling your hands out awkwardly as your neck reclined against the wall, your face etched to the ceiling. You were so, so stupid. What were you thinking?

“Yes… what?” You heard her say, her tongue swirling across the harsh mark she just made below your ear. You hesitantly fell back down on her knee, holding in the groan that yearned to leave your lips. This time, as you tried to regain the dispersing shards of your dignity, lifting your heat off her knee, her hands moved to seize your waist, pushing your hips down to roll against her knee.

The motion made you whine. “Yes, Katie.”

The woman chuckled as she coerced your hips back and forth, sucking and licking down your neck and across your collarbone. Feeling a slight ache from the game she just played, the sensation of the majority of your body weight rubbing against her knee made the Arsenal Victory even more triumphant.

“Is this okay, Baby?” She asked, leaving your neck cold as she waited for your response. You were so tired from the past few days that you slumped on Katie’s knee, waiting for her to continue kissing and moving you as she pleased.

“I need to shake people’s hands.” Your voice was meek but clear.

Katie looked at you, taken aback. “What?”

You wrapped your arms off her shoulders, holding them together in front of you. “Emma told me I need to shake everyone’s hands after the game is finished. She’ll be really angry if I don't.”

Katie’s smirk was back. “Will she now?”

You, too exhausted to realise she was egging you on, nodded. “Yes. So I have to—”

“Shake my hand?”

“Yes.”

Katie leaned in, raising her eyebrows. “What if I don't want to shake your hand?”

You were evidently stumped at the question, pursing your lips as you struggled to find a response. Katie's smile grew, and you grew bitter.

She moved to kiss your neck again to silence your upcoming retort. “What will Hayes do if you don't shake my hand, hm? She’d be so disappointed in you, wouldn't she?”

You tried to focus on anything but her lips led closer to your breasts. “McCabe, I need to—”

“What are you going to tell her, hm? When she asks you if you shook my hand, are you ‘gonna tell her that you tried to get off on my leg instead?”

You were at loss for words. Was she wrong? Of course, she wasn't. Katie McCabe was never fucking wrong, and here you were, pathetic on her knee, about to get off to your enemy calling you Baby, when you tell her you need to shake her hand. You really were a baby.

“Is that what you're going to say to her, Baby?”

“N-no.”

“Why not? It's the truth. You wouldn't want to lie, would you?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I'm not going to tell her that.”

She must've caught onto your honest dispute, slowly dragging her knee directly onto your clit and rubbing circles over it. You didn't expect her movements, so you moaned, pulling your head into her neck and breathing heavily.

You were so out of breath it wasn't funny. “I’m- I told Jessie I’d spend a night at her house.”

“I didn't take you for the cheating type, Y/l/n.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

Katie slowed down her movements. “I ‘spose you weren't thinking you’d get off with her knee tonight, would you?”

“No, we were just going to watch a movie.”

“How ‘bout this?” She whispered, pushing your hips against the wall. “You go and shake everyone’s hands like a good girl and I’ll treat you like one afterwards.”

You groaned when she pulled her knee out from under you, feeling your inner dread grow when you heard the full-time whistle and a tsunami of cheers.

“We won 4-1.”

“Still second on the ladder.”

“You have bite for someone who was just moaning fully clothed.”

“Goodbye, McCabe.” You snapped, trying to act Almighty and unbothered by the longing in between your legs. You had to double-check that nothing had leaked through from how wet you were, trudging up the tunnel without a second glance back.

When you found yourself on the pitch, you made a point to shake each of the Arsenal player's hands, including the ones on the bench, which had been nothing short of mortifying. Almost all of them looked at you strangely, trying to push past the obvious awkwardness and reciprocate the sportsmanship, except for the Aussie girls, who hugged you and offered warm conversation with the buzz of their victory.

“Is your ankle okay?” Caitlin asked, pulling you out of an embrace with worry smeared across her features.

You nodded, showing her the bruise by moving your sock. “Yeah, just some bruising. You guys played really well.”

Steph did the same: hug and condolences, while Kyra was completely opposite.

“LONDON IS RED!” She screamed, laughing when she mounted your back from behind.

“Get off, loser.” You retorted, pulling her into a hug as the two of you met in the middle of the field. You knew heaps of people were waiting for signatures, but you didn't care.

“What’s all over your neck?” She asked, grabbing your jaw and observing the fresh marks.

Shit, you thought, recalling the sensation of Katie’s lips tugging at your skin.

You pulled away, hoping distance would lessen the stringency of them. “I think it was from the grass. Y’know, when I fell.”

“Oh, don't worry, I know.” Kyra giggled, seemingly too full of energy to remember what she said two seconds ago. “You need to take a chill pill, Y/n/n. I’ll be sending you all the TikTok edits of you and Katie when I get home, don't you worry.”

“Please don't.” You muttered, holding out your hand to interlock it with Kyra’s. “Are you going straight home or?”

Kyra chuckled. “After this win? No fucking way.”

“You're still second on the ladder.” You reminded yet another Arsenal player.

Kyra poked her tongue out. “Boo, you whore.”

Kyra left you to celebrate with her teammates, marking her as the last Arsenal girl you needed to shake hands with.

You walked back into the changing rooms with an impassive frown on your face. Lots of the girls were already in the showers, Jessie among the few that had already finished and changed.

“We still up for tonight?” You asked, hoping your prior plans that you made before the game were still available after the thrashing they had just endured.

Jessie nodded, pulling you into a hug. “Sam, Millie, and Erin are all going to the pub to have a drink. They want us to come with them, you in?”

“Why not?” You replied, kissing the girl’s forehead before packing your bag.

You were glad that you were going out with your teammates instead of caving and finding Katie. But something deep down made you ponder whether what just happened was a one-off thing.

Spoiler: it wasn't.

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #arsenal #arsenal wfc #chelsea #chelsea women #kyra cooney cross #caitlin foord #steph catley #sam kerr #jessie fleming #auswnt #katie mccabe smut

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normal-internet-user · 5 months

Note

Sooooooooooooo~~~ I've got more DC brainworms. I have come to share. 🤲🏼

Picture this, wildflower. *throws arm around your shoulder, gestures to the empty space in front of us, envisioning* A young (eventual) bat!sibbie reader who has a very similar essence to Jason.

and I mean....... literally. a mini Jason. lmaooo listenlistenlisten — yn is a scrappy, free-spirited orphan who comes from the slums of Gotham; they've been here a while, only giving a noncommittal shrug and wry smile when inquired about any of it. same story for a lot of us 'round here.

—and wouldn't it just be hilarious if they came into the Batfam the same way Jase did? By STEALING 👏🏼 HUBCAPS. 👏🏼

except it don't gotta be hubcaps, yn is a ✨professional✨ and a 🔥savage🔥 and just straight up carjacked the Batmobile LMALAOAOAOO (they earn Jason's utmost respect right off the bat [BAT PUN 🦇]; Steph, Dick, and Duke are the runner-ups). Bruce probably gains a new neck vein but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued!

thennnnn you muck up when you give the slightest inclination that you know his secret identity bcz it'd be significantly more terrifying (read: hilarious) than if you were to fall victim to the cliche 'i saw something i wasn't supposed to and now I'm being taken hostage by these randos in masks and oh holy smokes it's actually multi-billionaire airhead himbo Bruce Wayne!? and his KIDS!!??'

time skip because seamless transition, bing bada boom, they're Bruce's newest ward and filling the tabloids. while it may be a hot story that the entirety of the paparazzi froth at the mouths at, it's a different story behind the scenes.

reader has a sweet, dear personality at the core, but they put up a detached front; if anything, their crude humor and witty deadpan sarcasm attests to their harsh emotional walls put up.

it's nothing personal to these guys, they're just... constantly in self-perservation mode. they ain't never had nobody like this before, 'cept for their fellow street rat friends who're like family.....

I imagine those walls get worn down by Jason the most.

I also imagine Jason would be.... angry?? not at you!! never at you — if anything he'd probably steal you away from Bruce every chance he gets because he's scared you'll be readily thrusted into an unwitting role as a cowl-donner — but at Bruce's initial and seemingly impulsive decision to take you in- because of just how fast everything moved. he was a bit withdrawn at first, but he became undeniably protective over you as time went on.

you appreciate this earnestly; one day on your outings with Jason, he passes by the streets where you usually hung out with your friends. sure enough, they're all there, looking horrendously forlorn. you give out the group whistle- one you all made up and agreed on a longgggg time ago- and they all look at you like you're a ghost before you're being yanked into a group hug.

some of 'em are mad tho; they all caught wind, ever since you were printed in black and white on the newspapers lil' jimmy still brought to them fresh every morning. thought you ditched us for daddy warbucks. and some of 'em are genuinely happy, not only to see you, but had been for you. thought you managed to finally get outta this hellhole. we knew you wouldn't forget us, tho.

you're smart, yvette - your bestest friend ever since elementary - murmured as she hugged you so tight you could barely breathe. you're smart and warm and so kind... i'mma miss your candy apple self not being around me 24/7 any more, but heavens above, you made it, ynnie any foster parent would be blessed to have you as a kid, y'hear? anybody and everybody. she pulls you back and rests her forehead on yours, staring into your eyes with her tear-filled ones. don't forget 'bout us, yeah? we still got your back. stay safe and take care of yourself.

and if you silently cried on the way back to the manor, Jason didn't say much about it. just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and took you for burgers.

—i feel that incident would settle you deeper into Jason's heart. he just sees so much of himself in you. in this scrappy kid who puts up such a carefree front, but is actually made of honey and caramel at their center. who has such a strong emotional intelligence at that age that Jason's sure is the only difference between him and you. in this child, who has a pure heart full of love with so much to give and just wants to be loved in return.

reader's softest with Cass and Alfred, as in they feel no need to put up pretenses with them. it's how they both find out that you're perpetually jaded and reminiscent of a long-suffering lamb: soft, tolerant, brokenhearted, shreds of innocence swirling about their heart still, maybe a little lost......

SPEAKING OF THE GRANDLER HIMSELF 🌹🎉: you get roped into baking with Alfred one day, and because Alfred is the actual MVP, you fall into his affections too.

it's when you're kneading at dough when a crestfallen expression suddenly overtakes your expression.

"mr. alfred," you drawl, inner city accent thickening with the melting of your posture. there's a heaviness to your tone that wasn't there before. it catches the elderly man's attention immediately. "you remind me a lot of my old man. not my father, but there was this elderly gentleman who took care of us street urchins. old man peaches. cuz every time we saw him, he sold us fresh peaches from his little milk carton in trade for some colorful bottle caps. dunno where he got 'em, said he grew them out the cracks in the concrete, the geezer. he was always talkin' like that — like there was some deeper meaning to everythin'. we groaned all the time, made all in good fun of him right to his face, but we all really loved it.

"one day, me 'n yvette were scouting 73rd and maryanne avenue; it's the curve that has all those connectin' alleyways that hide the abandoned warehouses, y'know? it's also where we hid out with peaches. had a small space heater and brought anything we needed from the foster care buildin'. sometimes we'd get dragged back but you keep doing something enough times, them folks who don't get paid enough for it just stop givin' a hoot... so long s'we made it back for inspections and didn't pilfer the good stuff, y'know?

"anyway. we went in there hollerin' for mr. peaches... he was usually napping by the space heater or stringing bottle cap jewelry for us, but he wasn't there. searched the whole warehouse, whole perimeter, nothing.

"then, vettie found him... " you pause, a smile that didn't reach your eyes spreading your cheeks. "right by the compost bin outside the back door of that same warehouse, chest not movin' and lips stained with blueberries."

alfred feels his stomach drop, beside himself. you looked up from the dough in your hands and simply regarded the old man, an uncharacteristic nonchalance marring your features.

"he was the only one that really understood and looked out for us the way he did. i ain't been able to eat peaches or anything of the like since then, but vettie is the one who couldn't sleep for the weeks after."

Alfie had long stopped chopping the onions for the dish at this point and all he could think was what has this poor child gone through?

TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TR

anywaaaaayzzzuh, I'm exhausted BUT yeah I just want to infect you lovingly with the brainworms of Jason bonding with a bat sibling reader who's a lot like him, and how he'd prevent a lot of pain that they ain't gotta go through because he went through the same.

And the things that he CAN'T prevent, because everyone deals with trauma differently, he's always gonna be there for you. And he wants you to know that.

reader is a bit wary of Dick because of his pure bubbliness and aura of flowers 🌸🌺🌻🌹🌷🌼💐and shooting stars — in Gotham?? — but Dick has an affinity to troubled kids and also . he's Dick Grayson, everybody loves him .

so he works together with Jason and soon enough, you're practically his respective child akshdjdhd

you and dami take a bit to come along BUTTTTT I hc that you come into their lives when Dami's a little older and therefore more matured.

I love Damian, I feel he'd be a pretty solid older brother figure.

the more time you spend there, the more you begin to trust your newfound family. (well, your pseudo siblings at least); the more you let your walls down, the more they get a peek into your true self- not just the distant exterior you put up.

you're thoughtful and generous; you like books and animals and know how to make ice cream from scratch with ice and plastic bags; you're resourceful and crafty - you learned how to hot wire cars and pick locks from the older kids down at the foster care home - but you don't try to give anyone headaches for it out of respect for Alfred, you claim solemnly.

you're a good kid.

it just takes a bit more for people to say that, and even more for you to let others see it.

I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE BUT PLEASE NOTE THAT I WROTE THIS THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, CONTINUALLY PASSED OUT, AND IT'S THE FRICKIN MORNING ALREADY LMAOAOAOAOAOOO

OH MY GOD.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

ZEEP.

ZEEP WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME-

I just- Can I just-

If Brucie EVER tried to but reader in a cape Jason would lose his MIND.

How DARE you even THINK about putting the baby at risk? How dare you?

Totally just takes reader and brings them to his apartment until Bruce apologizes for even suggesting such a proposterous thing.

He's eventually forgiven but he's on thin ice okay?

Sleepovers at Jason's are also a very common thing.

Since he lives in the Narrows, it gives you the chance to roam your old stomping grounds and see your friends.

Poor reader has to go to all kinds of fancy dinner parties now.

Public appearences.

Such a drag.

Uncomfy clothes, and uncomfy people.

So, being the feral little street raised shit they are, reader says the most out of pocket freaky crap ever.

"Yeah, living in the Narrows as a kid was hard. Especially after the accident."

"Oh, yeah. I love my new home. The velociraptor in the backyard is a sweetheart."

"What do you mean Jason's supposed to be dead? He obviously got better. I've done it more than once. Yes I've died before. They said I can't tell you what comes after. Who's they? Don't worry about it."

And literally no one can say anything because their new dad is one of the richest men on Earth.

Also their first fancy gala something definitly went wrong.

Like lets says it gets targeted for some kind of robbery 'cus, ya know Gotham. And it's full of rich people.

Reader is literally like, "Fuck no. Get the hell out."

Grabs a bottle of champagne and breaks it over the ring leaders head with a loud shout of "ANARCHY!"

ALFIE AND OLD MAN PEACHES-

OH MY GOD I'M CRYING. I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M IN TEARS-

Also, the little punk stealing the CAR is hilarious. So much potential there.

Dick *interrupting Bruce for the upteenth time*: "Hey, B?"

Bruce *Severly annoyed*: "Yes, Nightwing? What is it?"

Dick: "Who's driving the car?"

*Que Jason wheezing over the comms*.

Dickie gives all kinds of nicknames.

Little wing, hoodlum, baby bird-

Him and Jason compete for your time.

Like there is an underground betting pool for who can get you to spend more time with whom.

Jason shows you all hid hidey places around the manor if you ever need a place to just- be

Tim helps with homework when Jason's not around (which isn't very often, Jason makes a point of visitiing often just to see you)

It makes for wonderful bonding with your busiest brother.

Damian, (though he will never admit it out loud), enjoys it when you join him in taking care of his animals.

Batcow and Jerry love you, and Alfred the cat has taken to sleeping in your room.

The two of you take Titus and Ace for walks, and Damian very smugly rubs it in Jason's face when a tabloid photo pops up of the two of you in matching sweaters and sunglasses.

"Clearly I am the superior brother, Todd. Even the media agrees."

"Well then I know it's bullshit because the media says it's true."

"Tt."

I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN INTO STEPH AND DUKE AND CASS AND BABS UGGHHH

THERE'S OTHER STUFF I wanna ADD BUT I'VE MADE YOU WAIT LONG ENOUGH I'M SO SORRY-

#normie rambles #normies moots #the brain worms are SERIOUS UGGHHH #I'm so sorry it took so long 🥲🥲#batfam #batfam x reader #civillian batsis #platonic x reader #jason todd #jason todd is best brother #dick grayson #x reader #dc x reader #dc comics #baby bat is an alley cat! (^U^)#i like that tag

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 months

Note

Hi, just wanted to let you know that I am obsessed with werewolf Bruce just like I am with literally every other character you write??? Your work has a power over me that I can’t fight (not that I want to lmao)

I really hope this is one of the good days (since healing is never linear) 💛 please take whatever time you need and do whatever you need to do to prioritize yourself rn

"Let us see you home," Cass said, taking your arm. "It's too late to call a cab."

"Oh no I couldn't, I have-"

"Don't be silly," Steph said, taking your other arm. "Jason would you go and get wraps and-"

"I think Dick has already gone to get them," he said easily. He'd tried to stop Steph from running over you a few times but, in this case, he agreed. A sweet-faced young miss should not be seeing herself home.

"Wonderful," she said. "I'll just go make our excuses before they have time to bring out more of that dreadful cake."

Stephanie made her way through the crush easily, dragging Cass with her to make her way to the host and hostess, ready to smile and dimple and plead exhaustion after a lovely evening of dancing.

"I really can make my own way home," you tell Jason, not looking at him. "It isn't necessary."

"We'll humor Stephanie," he said, smiling just a little. "Besides, if word got back to our father that we didn't accompany you home after we monopolized your time all evening, he'd be furious."

"I don't- I- I had a lovely time," you assure him, feeling too warm suddenly. You aren't looking at him but you can feel him looking at you.

Before Jason could respond, he's saved by a sudden surge in the crowd. Some rowdy boys home from college. Pulling some sort of escapade, if the giggles and shrieks and raucous laughter were any indication. But when it sent a gentleman,a rather portly man a full head shorter than you toppling into you, spilling his drink down the bosom of your dress- as his face pressed into your chest- it was all he could do you pull you out of the way. Letting him hit the floor as you fumbled with your handkerchief, dabbing uselessly at the port that was staining the rose-pink fabric.

"Here," he said quickly, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders. "Good grief," he said to the man on the floor,"what's the matter with you?" Please don't cry, he thought, when he heard you sniffle. He hated it when women cried.

"Sorry, my boy-"

"I'm not the one you should apologize to," he said gruffly. "Ladies don't come to parties to be-"

"Mr. Todd," you say quietly, "I don't think anyone saw."

"That's not the point," he hissed.

"Please- I- I'd like to go home. I- just. Before the stain has time to set."

"Alright," he said, taking your arm gently, and ushering you through the crowd. It wasn't often he was grateful for his size- he felt like a brute compared to his brothers. Or even the other men who were well- smaller. But. In this case, it was an advantage. Even in your gown, so long as he kept you by the wall and moved quickly, everyone was too busy looking at him to notice you.

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm very foolish," you murmur, accepting the clean handkerchief he offered.

"No," he protested. "It's not often-"

"Jason!" Steph said demanded Arriving with Cass and Dick, "What have you done to my new friend?"

"Nothing!" he protested, "I-"

"He rescued me from what could have been a very ugly scene if anyone had seen Genevieve's uncle fall into my well- and he spilled his drink on me."

"Ugh," Steph huffed, "People who can't hold their liquor should not be allowed to drink in public."

"And on that note," Dick said, noting Stephanie's latest pronouncement had attracted attention, "I think it's time to see the ladies home before father starts sending out telegrams."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #gaslamp!au

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amorhedera6 · 5 months

Text

((this turned out longer and more in depth then i meant for it to go, tw for abusive families, suicidal ideation, mentions of death, grief, and dismembering of a body))

headcannon that steph and max were best friends as kids. his dads an important man, one that solomon wanted on his side. so he pushed steph to spend time with his son. max was a super happy kid, very exciteable, loved musicals. they were on their own a lot, since neither of their parents really gave a shit, so they’d spend a lot of time at starlight theatre, watching all the different shows and things going on. max would tell her about how shitty his dad was and she’d do the same in return.

when they got to the 7th grade, steph got really depressed and pushed max and everyone else away. and max was little, they both didn’t really know what was going on. after that, they weren’t ever really close like that again. she got on the middle school football team and was deemed a prodigy, got popular, started getting all these friends that would do whatever he said. things with his dad got worse, and without steph to help him he started bullying to corral his emotions. steph knew what he was doing, but also knew it wasn’t serious. he pushed a few people around a little, that’s all. she didn’t think she had to be worried about her friend and now that he was super popular, she needed other people to spend her time with.

she also became cool, just because he said hi to her in the hallways, so she found herself in with his group. but she never truly felt she fit in, skirting along the edges. in high school, her friends all joined the cheer squad as she joined the smoke club and stop giving a shit about school. she never made sense in the “popular kid” crowd, but she assumed they kept her around bc she was the mayor’s daughter and pushing her out wouldn’t fly. it was actually max, making sure she got an invite to every party.

steph sort of floats through high school disassociatedly, in the my-home-life-is-terrible-and-isn’t-gonna-get-better-until-college-so-i-don’t-give-a-shit way, so she doesn’t see the escalation of max knowing no one will stop him doing anything, getting a total god complex, and ruling the school with violence, until pete. she’s probably the only person in hatchetfield high that doesn’t know, but it surprised her so much. bc max? the boy who would geek out over tech production of the musicals? the kid who let her be the captain when they were pirates bc he thought it was more fun to be the first mate? who’d stay up late with her when she had a bad day to read the books their moms were had promised to read to them? that boy is this horrible bully, and she didn’t even know it? it just doesn’t make sense.

she says she’ll go to the principal bc that’s the first instinct one has about this shit, but people started doing that in 8th grade, and all that happens is max has to go to an anti bullying thing every few months. she wants to talk him down, figure out what made him go this far, but she already knows it’s his dad. he wants to be the big impressive football star that his dad wants him to be, so maybe he’ll actually give a shit. he wants his dad to notice and tell him to stop, because then it would mean he was paying attention to what he did. daddy issues recognize daddy issues, and steph sees it in max, even if she did have prior knowledge. she goes along with grace’s plan bc she thinks it’ll be a good ego check to bring him down, but then. then.

she goes home and cries herself to sleep, feeling responsible for the death of her first real friend. she gets sick for weeks with flashes of her dismembering his body with the others, and while every one else’s seems to think the school’s getting better, all stephanie can think is “did no one else fucking care about him? even a little?” all his friends, the football guys, even her friends on the cheer squad, seem to not care about max’s disappearance as much as they care about his missing spot on the field. she starts to skip more until she decides to hang out with pete instead. he must be guilty too, be haunted by these images, but then he says “everything is objectively better.”

which she gets. people are free from his torment, they can do what they want, talk to who they want, etc. the hallways are brighter, people are happier, whatever. but max was still a person. steph wonders if the plan had gone right, maybe he would’ve come back down from his god complex and been more like she remembered him. if he would’ve done the spring musical like he’d always wanted to do but never felt like he could. if he would’ve hated her for it forever. she’d rather he hate her forever than her have helped kill him.

when they have to start talking about what happened, she tries to call him jägerman, tries to disconnect her friend from what happened, because he truly was drastically different, but it was hard. after richie and ruth, shut goes crazy and max is back, but he’s not really max. she feels like the worst friend in the world when she think “he looks like his dad”

because mr jägerman has always been a being full of rage and anger, not one to hide in his own home. she’d seen him scream and yell at max for being a regular little kid, not special at all. not the perfect son he wanted. max, this weird spector of max, is all rage, no heart. even when max was at his worst, he had some heart. he kept her in the “cool group” even though she made no sense there, let grace go unbullied bc he had a crush on her. this wasn’t max. this was a personification of his dying moments, the only thing the waylon place did was preserve, and maybe further his anger.

she wants to beg pete to kill her the way he begs her to kill him. she started all this, even if she denied it at beanies, it’s true, and she is probably the only one who could have helped max stay a regular guy instead of the egomaniac ruler of the school he became. but she can’t get the words off her tongue. so long she’s been thinking about how easier everyone’s lives would be if she just killed herself, and now she can’t even do this. he gets on his knees in the football field, she raises the gun from twenty yards away, and thinks about how many people this thing that isn’t really max has killed.

she forces herself to pull the trigger.

max stops the bullet.

grace fucks the ghost, and all is well. except she’s met gods who seem like they want to eat her, and now her father’s dead too. he was an asshole, he never really cared about her, but she sobs for hours n the big empty house on pinebrook, and wishes desperately that she had made pete do it.

she and pete check on each other, because he also lost two people important to him, and they hold each other up. get each other through it. help each other mourn. she meets his older brother, he helps her clean out her father’s office. they go to funerals together and hold hands, and don’t talk about it.

it takes her a little while to realize his homecoming offer is still up, since things are technically different now. she buys a dress and tells him only the color, and he wears a matching bow tie. it’s such a ridiculously peter thing to do, and it makes her laugh for the first time in a while. they laugh together a lot that night, and she helps him breathe through a panic attack in the bathroom when ruth’s favorite song comes on.

she tells him about the images she can’t get out of her head, maxs body in pieces, the blood everywhere, that she burned the clothes she wore that day bc she couldn’t get the smell of blood and bleach out no matter how often she washed it. he tells her that he’s having flashbacks like that too, and that he wishes he could talk to his therapist about it without being sent to jail or a mental hospital.

she talks to detective shapiro and gets her to send a letter to peters therapist that he’s not gonna be arrested so pete can talk his shit out. at least the non-ghost and demon stuff. the dismembering a guy stuff, though, he can talk about.

it gets her thinking about therapy and getting some. she’s 18, she’s got more money than is necessary from her father, and she thinks she’s going crazy. she looks into it and finds one, starts going once a week. he tells steph he things she has adhd, sends her to a psychiatrist who confirms the diagnosis. she gets some drugs to take, and she feels weird about taking them. she’s done drugs, but like the cool ones. she knows not to do drugs you’re unfamiliar with when your alone, and she feels like she’s a lot of that.

homecoming was fun, but she and pete still haven’t out any label in their relationship. they haven’t said i love you, even though everything that went down means the both know it. she wants to be his girlfriend, but she doesn’t want to ask. wants him to ask. she tells her therapist as much, and then complains that she’s paying him bc she’s got daddy issues and trauma, not to hear about her high school drama.

but miraculously, he does ask her to be his gf. and then they’re dating, and it’s great. she spends more time at his apartment with his brother, less time alone in the big empty house just thinking about max and her hand in who he became. he and her therapist together convince her to start taking the meds, and it helps with some of her problems, but not all of them.

she forces herself to keep living, even when she doesn’t want to, because that’s what max (her best friend, the kid who was too scared tontry out for the musical, the asshole, the boy she knew better than herself, the adult she apparently hardly knew, the spector she could only half recognize) would want from her.

#max jagerman deserved a redemption arc #so im giving it to him #post mortem #bc this is cannon compliant im afraid #steph and max were best friends ik it #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #steph lauter #stephanie lauter #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #brief lautski bc i have no control #starkid #hatchetfield #The Rambles

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rubydubydoo122 · 8 days

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The best cook among the bats is Jason, hands down. That man LOVES food, he knows the power of a good meal.

Followed by Dickie, because my boy grew up in an interlocked community. One of the first community duties would have been to help with meal prep.

Steph is probably descent because her mom was a nurse, and she had to learn.

Dami is baby, but probably able to cook somewhat. There is no way Talia lets him run free without the ability to feed himself.

100% agree with this

New HC, Dick and Jason taught Alfred how to be a better cook.

I think Dick is the type to use recipes. He has a cookbook from his Circus family. The reason why the younger batfam members think Alfred is a decent cook is because he has copies of those recipes. But Dick always thought whenever Alfred made them, something was missing. (It's because Alfred follows those recipes to a T and the way the recipe was written was in pinches and dashes)

Jason is more of an intuitive cook. He's constantly tasting as he cooks and adds whatever he feels is needed as he goes. The first time a 13 year old Jason cooked with Dick, Dick almost cried, because Jason added just the things that were missing from those circus recipes. (I think Jason's a great cook, but he also isn't picky, because of his experience with food insecurity. But give him a can of beans and crackers, and he'll make it taste good somehow)

Aparently, Willis was a cook before he became a goon. Do with that information what you will.

I think for both Dick and Jason, cooking is a love language. and that's why they're the best cooks in the family.

and Idk why, but I feel like Steph can only make basic foods and use recipies.

Damian definitely knows how to cook, but I feel like its a mix of Talia and Dick teaching him.

#batman #batfam #dc comics #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown

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m-i-s-a-n-t-r-o-p · 10 months

Text

Things will get better with time

Hey! This is my first ever fic so hopefully it makes some sense haha. Written for a lovely soul I met here on Tumblr a few days ago, asking someone to write them a comfort fic so here i am, trying to save the day. Hope you will like it! Tell me what you think!

Ps. this is not proofread, it is 11pm here and my brain is dying:)

---

Pairing: Billy Russo x fem!reader (not canon, this Billy is actually sweet and caring!)

warnings: a bit of swearing, feelings of being unworthy (can't think of anything else tbh)

Summary: You are on a girl's trip in Greece with your best friend but things aren't really going the way you anticipated. After a fight with her, you leave the hotel and find yourself sitting on a lonely bench when a weird stranger asks if you're okay.

A lot of angst to comfort.

Word count: 2937

Greece. Greece.

You muttered to yourself as your eyes scanned over the department board once more, simply to confirm that this was really happening. Your first ever trip abroad. You were beyond excited as you continued to find your friend in the maze of people and luggage. All the thoughts of warm nights, hours spent by the beach and days of simply existing and relaxing were filling your mind. As you finally spotted Stephanie your excitement grew even more. A girl’s trip, something you have anticipated for quite some time now. She was, as usual, completely wrapped up in her boyfriend’s arms. Not that you didn’t want her to be happy, not that you were jealous, it was just… sometimes you wanted to spend time with just her, without Luke always there. But now you have finally managed to escape his prying eyes, his ever-present arms around your best friend and his snarky comments of always stealing his girl away from him. And to be honest, you were pretty happy about finally getting rid of him.

“I’ll miss you baby,” Stephanie said for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. The boarding would start any minute now and yet here you were, still in the departure hall, trying to get Steph to bid goodbye and finally enjoy herself on this trip. Luke hugged her once more while saying “Call me every day, okay baby girl?” and your friend profoundly nodded, as if to confirm something far greater than just to call her boyfriend every once in a while.

The flight, to your surprise, was quite smooth. That went without counting Stephanie’s constant cries of how she wishes Luke would have come with you. Don’t be so harsh, you told yourself, it is the first time they are really away from each other. You tried to seek some understanding within you and for the first hour you actually did find it. But when the conversation would not steer in a different direction even after two hours, you simply excused yourself from the one-sided debate, popped in your earphones and tried to fall asleep. You thought of all the beaches again, of the sea, and of course, of all the handsome men you will probably meet in Greece.

It was not as if Steph was a bad friend. She was wonderful at times. Attentive, caring, supportive. But that was all before she met Luke. After they started dating, you have been cast aside, thrown away like a used doll that didn’t fit the child’s expectations anymore. And you understood, for who you were to stand between two people in love? So you salvaged all the little time you could get with your friend, enduring all the conversations about her love life, feeling happy for her. You just hoped things would get better with time. But they never really did.

When you finally touched down in Greece, you were welcomed with gentle warm breeze on your cheeks and the sun stroking your hair gently in the late afternoon. The ride to your hotel was silent, a fact you were much thankful for after the exhausting flight. You guessed Steph was tired too but as you looked behind your shoulder to the backseat, you found her with her phone glued to her hands, her eyes fixed on the screen. “Everything good Steph?” you asked, concerned something was the matter as she was frowning quite hard. She looked up momentarily and forged a small smile on her lips as a form of wordless apology. She said, surprising you “Yeah, it’s just Luke. He was asking about the flight; you know how he is with planes” and chuckling a bit to herself as her eyes returned to the screen. You simply nodded, knowing she is not paying attention to you anyways. Luke, always Luke… even here in Greece, with all the beautiful scenery around, it’s always Luke. Yet you could not really bring yourself to feel anger, or at least not enough of it. It will get better, you thought to yourself as the car came to a halt in front of your hotel.

The first two days were weird, to say the least. Your room was spacious, beautifully furnished and with a dazzling view of the town you were staying in and of the seemingly endless glimmering sea. The food was great, the people were kind and the weather even kinder to you. You have heard quite a lot of people say that Greece is insufferable at this time of the year for its hot temperatures, but you guessed you were lucky as there was always gentle breeze cooling you down. Everything was great. Except that it was not. Stephanie, despite promising you she would reserve her daily calls with Luke for the less busy afternoons, was on her phone most of the time.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Luke’s calling me, I gotta go”.

“Can this wait? Luke and I are going to facetime now”.

“Luke’s texting me, hold that thought!”

On and on, these sentences and their versions filled your days like a plague. You were getting tired of always being put second, never really being the first option Steph would choose. Because even though she was there with you, she still decided to prioritize her boyfriend. Now don’t get it wrong, you were happy for her, you truly were. But you also thought that maybe this was not entirely fair towards you. After all this was supposed to be a getaway from your work, you busy life, from all the other people. It was supposed to be just the two of you, like the old times. And you still thought that maybe things will get better.

The late afternoon has finally begun to bleed into an endless night when you suggested going for a walk through the little town. “I suppose we could do that; it could be fun!” Stephanie exclaimed, finally agreed to doing something other than just lying in her bed facetiming Luke. You were beyond happy for finally snatching some of her attention for yourself. The two of you agreed on dressing up a bit so that you could take some lovely photos by the white houses typical for this area. You put on a beautiful flowy dress that hugged your curves perfectly and reached just above your bare knees, with flowing sleeves of blue see-through fabric. The neckline was a little lower than what you would usually go for, yet it still didn’t reveal much, only a hint, only a tease. Your hair was twisted into a simple up-do and you also put on some lighter make up, just to compliment the look. As you stood in front of the mirror, you felt so beautiful. Yet something was still missing. Oh, the earrings! You thought as you remembered you bought a pair of intricate gold earrings on the farmer’s market the other day. An old lady sold them to you, telling you they were literally made for you. And boy, was she right. You looked gorgeous.

“Steph, I’m ready!” you called out from the bathroom.

But your friend didn’t return the excitement which now began to slowly replace itself with disappointment. “You’re gonna hate me…” She didn’t even need to go on, you already knew where this was going. “Luke? Again? Seriously? You guys just spent the last four hours talking on the phone!” and this long-held disappointment and neglect has finally merged into a well-deserved anger. “But he says it’s important! Come on, you can’t be mad at me. I miss him so much…” Stephanie countered your angry statement with a response filled with sadness. “I wouldn’t be mad if it was just a one-time thing but Steph, you’ve been on your phone the whole time we’ve been here. I feel like I don’t even exist to you!” now you were beginning to fight, your emotions getting the better of you. “That’s now true!” your friend yelled back at you. “You know goddamn well that it is.” You said, voice barely above whisper, as if you were afraid that if you spoke loudly it would break. As if you stood your ground, then you would break. And Stephanie just stood there, looking at you, not really knowing what to say. Maybe she knew you were right, maybe she did really feel bad. But it didn’t matter anymore. You were hurt, you were lonely and you just wanted to hide somewhere and cry your heart out. So, picking up your purse and walking towards the door, you turned to her one last time and quietly left. There was nothing else to say.

You could not exactly recall when the tears started to stream down your face, ruining your pretty make up. And you also could not recall when you’ve abolished trying to walk in these uncomfortable shoes, or how exactly you got to the lonely bench you were now sitting on. The moon was high up in the sky now, the stars singing their lullaby to anyone willing to listen. The sea was quiet and dark, a companion for worse times. And the omnipresent wind sometimes ever-so-slightly ruffled through the leaves of the trees enveloping you like a safe haven. It was peaceful, to say the least. And it indeed was a nice contrast to the war of emotions taking place in your heart. A part of you felt bad for leaving Steph like that, a part of you felt like maybe you should have yelled at her more. And as you were crying silently in the embrace of the night, you didn’t even notice the presence of someone else behind you.

“Are you alright?

You jumped at the sound of a deep velvet voice that cut through the silence like a knife. Oh shit, oh shit. Suddenly the state of your situation started to dawn on you. You were completely alone, on the outskirts of the city, in a dress and now with a strange man. I’m fucked. You decided to play it safe.

“Yeah.” You tried to sound strong but your voice was laced with sadness and salty tears.

“Are you sure? I thought I heard you cryin’ so I decided to check on you.” The stranger spoke up, his voice firm, yet somehow gentle and warm. Maybe he was not a bad guy after all. And you so desperately needed a shoulder to cry on, you didn’t really care whose the shoulder would be.

When you didn’t reply, too caught up in thinking about the pros and cons, the man quietly moved next to the bench. But he didn’t sit down just yet. He was approaching you as if you were a scared animal, trying to get you to trust him. His scent filled the air around you; a sweet cologne, a bit of fire and something you could not quite name. It was pleasant, you had to admit.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, jerking you out of your overthinking. You silently nodded to let him know he could sit down next to you, hoping he wasn’t some kind of a creep. He sat down next to you, not close enough to let your shoulders touch, but not far enough that you could not sense the warmth radiating off his body.

“So…” he said, suddenly unsure of himself. But you could not bare the weight of all the emotions anymore and words started to spill out without you having any control over them.

“I hate it, I hate her. I hate that I feel like this. I feel so fucking lonely, on my own goddamn holiday! I thought we would have a good time, that I would relax and enjoy myself and instead I am here, sitting on a bench god knows where with a stranger listening to me because my best friend is too selfish to do that instead.” At the end you were almost screaming into the night, your body trembling, your eyes stained with tears, your heart breaking at the realisation of what was really happening. It was pathetic really. Telling a stranger things like that, how does that even happen? But you felt like you could trust him. There was just something about him that made you feel safe. And he was listening intently, not saying anything. He was just there. And that was all you needed in that moment. When he noticed how shaken up you were, he placed his hand affirmingly on shoulder to encourage you to continue. When you calmed down a bit, you resumed your rant.

“My friend and I, we agreed to go here on vacation. As a way to relax, you know. I thought it would be great. It is actually my first ever trip abroad. But she wouldn’t get off the phone. She is always talking to her boyfriend. Always. Texting, calling, facetiming, you name it. It’s as if I’m not even there! And it hurts so much, it feels so lonely. And I tried talking to her about it but we just got into a fight and now I am here, crying instead of enjoying this trip.”

His fingers were drawing gentle circles on your bare shoulder and you found it soothing.

“I’m so sorry. That’s pretty shitty.”

“Yeah, it is shitty.” It almost made you laugh. Because it was shitty.

“Look, your friend is a really bad friend. Abandoning you like this, that’s not somethin’ good friends do. You deserve so much better than this. I usually tell people that they should talk things out but if you’ve tried that and it turned into an argument, maybe it would be better if you gave this friendship some time and space. So that both of you can assess your priorities. And to also realize what is important to you.” He said, his voice calm and even, comforting your worried heart. “It doesn’t take the pain away now, I know. But it will help you a lot in the future.”

“I hate that you’re right.” you agreed and much to your surprise, smiled. “It’s just a lot of built-up anger I suppose. And disappointment too. It has been going on like this for quite some time but I never really noticed it until now.”

He took a breath as if to think a bit on what to say next, as if you weren’t going to like what he got to say about it. “I understand. Sometimes we just want to see the good in people no matter how much they’ve hurt us. And we are too blind to see that they are causin’ too much pain and not enough happiness. Sometimes it’s just better to let people go. You can be happy on your own, happier even. You know, go and see a movie alone, go to a museum or to the beach, just enjoy your own company.”

“But doesn’t that get lonely?” you asked, still looking out at the sea. It calmed you down, the repetitiveness of the waves, the sound of water and also the warmth of his hand still on your shoulder.

“Sometimes. But I have found out it is better to be lonely than to be with the wrong people.”

It were those words that made you finally turn around and look at him. And you were met with a sight worth more than words could ever describe. A man so handsome you thought he was conjured by your own imagination. But then, your imagination could not possibly produce something so perfect. His eyes, dark as the sea draped in darkness, looking warmly at you. His lips curled into the faintest reassuring smile. You could tell his hair was once neatly styled with gel, now ruffled and messy, yet still looking soft. And to top it all off, his perfectly trimmed beard.

He smiled at you, a wide and beautiful smile. “Hey there.”

You weren’t looking at him, no, you were quite intently staring. “I’m Billy.” He extended his hand towards you, waiting.

“Y/N” you said at last, smiling too. You shook his hand and suddenly felt the urge to apologise. “I’m so sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done tha-“ “Don’t apologize sweetheart. I couldn’t bear to see you cry.”

A quiet “Thank you” found its way onto your lips. And his smile grew even wider. “Please, don’t thank me. Letting you talk it out was the least I could do.”

And even though his voice was reassuring, and his eyes told you he spoke earnestly, you still couldn’t shake the feeling you should feel bad. Maybe because you were still shaken up from Stephanie not listening to you or maybe because you found yourself on a bench in Greece with this handsome man, spilling your heart out. And suddenly, tears rolled down your cheeks again and your heart felt too heavy to carry once more.

“Oh no, baby, come here.” Billy said as he wiped some of your tears with his thumbs. “Shhh, it’s all okay sweetheart, it’s okay” he whispered into your hair as he pulled you closer. His strong arms hid you away from the world, pressed against his chest, and you wished for nothing more than to simply stay in this little shelter that he suddenly became. “I’m here Y/N, I’m here. All is well, it’s okay” he repeated, rocking you back and forth, as you cried into his shirt. And as you stayed there, on that bench, talking the night away in Billy’s arms, you let yourself believe that, for the first time in a while, things will get better with time.

#billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo #billy russo x you #billy russo fluff #billy russo imagine #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x female reader

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nomadstucky · 4 months

Text

The Truth

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

WC: ~6.8K

Warnings: This is an Omegaverse fic. If this bothers you, please do not read it. Alternatively, this will include smut, so Minors, DO NOT Interact!! You are responsible for your own media consumption. I have put the proper warnings on this fic. Ari being an absolute sweetheart.

Summary: Finding out the truth. (I suck at summaries)

Divider - Firefly graphics.

It all happened so quickly. One day, she was here. The next day, she was gone. And had left you to plan a funeral, wake, and make sure the family knew she was gone. Grief can be a fickle little thing. Especially when there wasn’t much emotion. You always thought when your mother passed, there would be anger, crying, sadness, and just raw emotions. But there wasn’t.

You weren’t angry at the world for taking her, you weren’t crying every minute of the day. Yes, you missed her terribly, but the lack of emotion made you feel wrong. Like you should be crying every minute of the day, like you should be angry and cursing the world for taking her from you.

Stephanie, a long time friend of yours, was one of the first people you called after the funeral. “There’s something seriously wrong with me.” You told her.

“No, there’s not. You don’t need to be overly emotional. You can miss her without all of that.” She said, softly.

“She was my mom, Steph! She’s gone, and I haven’t even cried since I found her! I cried a little bit today, but other than that, there has been no emotion. Is it a trauma response? What’s happening?”

“You’re not the first person who hasn’t had a crazy emotional response. You cried when you found her, and evidently, today. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You sighed, “I have to go. You’re still coming with me tomorrow right?”

“To go through the house? Absolutely! After we go through it, I’m thinking maybe we can make a list of what you want changed, and we can get the supplies. I have a friend, who’d be able to help with pretty much any renovations or anything you’d need. He’s a bit of a handyman.”

“Yeah. Actually, that may be a good idea. I don’t know if I want to change too much about it though. We’ll probably have to re-paint it. But I do want the front porch re-built. So if he can do that, just get him to give me a price point.”

“Perfect! Do you want me to have him meet us out there? Or do you want to wait?” “No, you can have him meet us there. I do want to do this as soon as possible. The sooner the better!” You smiled.

“Perfect! I’ll see you tomorrow!!”

“Thanks, Steph!” You called before hanging up the phone. There was a serenity in Stephanie's words that unfailingly put you at ease. Quickly changing into your pajamas, you climb into bed. It didn’t take long before you were falling asleep.

Waking up the next morning proved difficult. You had opted to pack away the final little things, like the coffee maker, mugs, blenders, little appliances. Texting Steph, you asked if she wanted a coffee, before changing.

After her ‘no thank you’, you grabbed your stuff and walked out the door to your old apartment. You’d be back tomorrow to get your stuff. Hopping in your vehicle, you headed to your family home.

It didn’t take very long to get there, seeing Steph and her friend were already there. Stepping out of the vehicle, you called, “Hey!” walking over to her.

“There she is!” Steph smiled as she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you, “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too!” You hug her back.

Smiling, she pulled away, “c’mon,” she pulled you up the front steps, “this is Ari Levinson. The handyman-slash-friend, I was telling you about.” She then proceeded to introduce you to him.

He turned to you, and your breath caught in your throat, he was massive. Easily 6’4, and broad shoulders made him look intimidating. The soft smile on his face indicated he was anything but.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said as you held your hand out to him.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine, Sunshine.” His voice was deep, as his hand encased yours. Shaking his hand, your face heated and you weren’t sure if it was the nickname, or if it was the sheer size of him.

Clearing your throat, you dropped his hand, “no point in staying outside. Can I get you guys anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?” You asked unlocking the door and stepping in. Steph and Ari shook their heads as they stepped in behind you.

“You weren’t kidding when you said this place was big huh?” Steph said, voice in awe.

You giggled, “she loved the extravagance. You know that.”

You smiled as Steph took a look around the expansive living room. It had been a while since you had been here. Being an only child, oftentimes left you feeling alone and isolated here in the house. It was nice to see someone enjoy it.

Ari’s shoulder gently knocked into yours, before his voice washed over you again, “I hope I’m not overstepping. Steph filled me in. I’m terribly sorry about your loss.”

You couldn’t explain the sudden surge of emotion that washed over you. You had people express their condolences to you all day yesterday, but still the condolences of a stranger had your eyes misting over. “Thank you..” you whispered.

Ari cleared his throat, “Steph mentioned you wanted the deck redone. How about I take a look at it, come up with a few different sketches, and we’ll go from there?”

You nodded, and looked up into those beautiful ocean blue eyes of his. “Thank you.” You said a little firmer this time.

“No need for that.” He stated, offering a small smile as he walked back out.

Within an hour, you and Stephanie had most of your mothers things sectioned out. You had a keep bag, a donate bag, and a garbage bag.

“I think it may be time for a break?” You questioned, looking over at her.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let me take you guys out to lunch? We can take this donated bag out to the shelter. Then I’ll move my stuff tomorrow.”

“Sure! I can see if we can borrow Ari’s truck tomorrow. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Steph! You don’t have to help me move, you’ve already done enough. So has Ari.”

“I don’t wanna hear it. C’mon. Let’s go.”

You giggled and followed her after tying off the ‘donate’ bag.

Walking outside, you put the bag in your trunk, and walked over to Steph, and Ari, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“-- your truck. It’ll be a lot easier to move the boxes.”

Ari chuckled, “why don’t I just pick you up and we can head out together? I don’t have anything else to do tomorrow but grab the wood for the porch. Speaking of which,” he turns to you sketchbook in hand, “there’s 3 separate options.”

Gently take it, “You guys are helping me enough, trust me, I can handle a little bit of moving.” You glanced at the open page of the sketchbook. The first option was a wrap around porch, with a white finish. The second was a few steps, with a small sitting area, with a dark cherry finish. The third was a basic flat porch, with a mesh covering, resembling a sunroom, with a light brown wood finish. “My mother would’ve loved the first one.”

“You don’t have to handle it. Not yourself. Is the first one the one you love?” Ari questioned, eyes never leaving you, as you hand him the sketchbook back.

“Yeah.” You were interrupted by your alarm going off. “Alright. Lunch? I need to take this medication, and I can’t take it on an empty stomach!” You giggled, before hopping back in your vehicle.

The drive to the diner, and the first half of lunch, was filled with laughs, jokes, and Ari asking questions to get to know you better. Mostly family questions. He had learned that you were an only child, your father had left when you were just 3-4 years old, and that you and Stephanie had known each other for the better part of 15 years.

You pulled the bottle of medication out of your purse, dispensed a pill and took it. “So what does this medication help with?” Ari asked you, with a weird look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

“It’s to help me focus. I’ve been on it since I was 6 or 7. My mother noticed I had issues with focusing, and so here I am stuck taking it for the rest of my life.” You smiled, handing the bottle to him so he could see.

Ari took it, humming as he read the label. He passed it back to you without saying anything else. The rest of the lunch went by fairly well, except for the fact that Ari was quiet, and reserved.

You had tried multiple times to get his attention, but to no avail. He either flat out ignored the attempt, or he just hummed. The ride back to the house was just as quiet.

You hugged Steph again before she hopped in her vehicle, promising to see you again tomorrow morning. Walking over to Ari, you felt the overwhelming need to apologize. “Hey,” you said just before he closed the driver's side door, “I just wanted to apologize.. If I made you uncomfortable or anything.”

Ari shook his head, “You didn’t. You don’t have to apologize. And again, I hope I’m not overstepping, but I think you should look into that medication you’re taking.” He said, voice low as if it was a secret. “W-What..? Wh-” You began to say before he interrupted you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said before closing his door, and driving off, leaving you dumbfounded.

You hadn’t slept the night before, completely enraptured with Ari’s warning. The tone of his voice as he said it, how quiet he was after reading the label. You had read the label so many times since he put it back in your hands, you had it practically memorized.

You didn’t find anything on the medication. Nothing. Not even what you were supposed to be taking it for. It was as if the medication didn’t exist, which only fueled your confusion more.

A knock at the door startled you, but you got up and opened it, seeing Steph, and Ari on the other side. You stepped aside and allowed them in, keeping your eyes not on Ari. Anywhere but him.

“Thank you guys for your help again.” You whispered.

Steph frowned, “Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m okay. Can we just get this done, please?” You kept your voice low, grabbing a box and walked past Ari out the door.

It continued like that, all of you taking the boxes out quietly. Until Ari had cornered you in the apartment. “If you want me to leave, all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll leave.”

“Why would I want that?” You whispered.

“You tell me. You haven’t said one thing to me, or looked at me the entire time I’ve been here. I’m assuming it has something to do with yesterday.”

“You know what they say about assumptions.”

Ari whispered your name, “please”

“Look. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it’s freaking me out. I couldn’t find anything. Nothing came up in my search for my medication.” You finally looked at him.

“I’m not playing any games. I swear, I’m not. Whatever you need, any questions you have, I can answer them.”

“Why? What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

“You really don’t know…” Ari frowned, “She never told you.”

Your eyes widened, “Who didn’t tell me? What is happening?”

“I’ll tell you everything, I just can’t tell you here. Okay?”

“Why? What is going on?”

“I promise, I’ll fill you in. Just let me figure out how.” Ari picked up a box beside you and nodded before walking it out to his truck.

This was the only conversation that happened throughout the moving process. Even in Ari’s truck on the way back to your family home. The dull sounds of the music filling the car, you tried to figure out what it was that he would tell you.

The words, she never told you, floated around in your head. Who could he be talking about? What did he know? “What did you do to the poor girl?” Steph’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“What are you talking about?” Ari retorted.

“She’s glaring at your seat, dumbass. What did you do to her?” “He didn’t. Sorry, I’m just in my head.” You interrupted.

Ari pulled into the driveway, and once again it was quiet unloading the boxes.

Once everything was put in the house, “Thanks again. I really appreciate it.” You glanced between Steph, and Ari. “It’s not a problem, do you want us to help unpack?” You shook your head, “You guys have helped enough.”

Steph nodded, and gave you a hug, “We’ll have to throw a little housewarming party.”

You giggled, hugging her back, “no, but we could do like a movie night if you wanted!”

“Sounds perfect. If you need anything, I’m always here.”

“I appreciate that.” You said as she walked back out to Ari’s truck.

Ari pulled his phone out, unlocked it and handed it to you. “If you have any questions. Don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“You have yet to answer my first question.” You said taking it, and putting your phone number in it, before handing it back to him.

“I will. I promise.” “So drop Steph at home, and come back. I need to know what’s going on. Please.”

Ari nodded, “okay.” before walking out, and to his car.

You knew Stephanie’s house wasn’t all that far, and yet, the minutes stretched to feel like hours. In the time Ari had gone, you had unpacked one singular box, stuff that was supposed to go in your room.

What did you need in said box? Your laptop. Maybe Google would yield different results on your computer vs your phone. You knew it wouldn’t but you needed a reason why it wasn’t showing up. Ari knocking on the door took you from your thoughts, “Come in!” You called.

Ari bit his lip as he entered, “I knew she probably wouldn’t tell you. She hated what he was. Hated that he didn’t tell her until after you were born.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, not expecting him to come in explaining right off the bat.

“Your father was an alpha. Your mother never cared for the statuses of it all. Everyone in the town hated that he chose someone that wasn’t involved. She took you when you were 4 years old, and left. Swore off this life. That she wanted more for you.” He said, softer this time.

“You knew my dad? And you knew my mom. You… Did you know me?” Your voice shook.

“Your father introduced us. I was 5 years old when I first met you. You were 2. Your father tried to explain the intricacies to your mother, before she took you away from it all. She said that you weren’t going to be involved in this. That you deserved better.” Ari paced around the living room. “I didn’t think it was possible. Steph when she introduced you, I didn’t believe her. But you look so much like him.”

Your eyes widened, as tears gathered in your eyes, “Ari…”

“The medication is a type of blocker. Your mother must have gotten it from the doctor in town. He made sure to keep her secret. He didn’t mention where you were, or where she was. If he even knew, but he had to have. He kept refilling the prescription.” He was speaking as if to himself, as if trying to figure it all out.

“What does it block?” You whispered, completely shocked.

Ari snapped his head to you, “I… I’m so sorry. Is this. Maybe I should stop talking.”

“No!” You stood abruptly, “Please…”

Ari gulped audibly, “there are two different types. One only blocks heats. But it still keeps the heightened emotions, and senses. The other blocks everything. The one you have, blocks everything. It essentially shuts down your instincts.”

You took a deep breath, tears falling. Hastily wiping them away, “So what am I?”

“An Omega.”

A shiver zipped down your spine. “S-So… if I don’t take that medication what happens to me?”

“You’ll come into your instincts. It’s kind of like, you won’t know what that means for you until you actually embrace it.” You sat back down on the sofa. Ari cautiously sat down on the other end. “I know it’s a lot to take in…”

“What was he like?” You turned back to Ari, “my father.”

The corner of Ari’s mouth turned upwards, “He was a great man. A wonderful leader. He made sure everyone was taken care of. I wasn’t joking when I said you look a lot like him.”

“It doesn’t make sense. She said he left. That he made the choice to not be around…”

Ari shook his head, “He loved you. He hated that she took you with her.”

“He could’ve fought her for it!”

“And do what? They weren’t married.”

You shook your head, “So you knew who I was, before I knew you. I-I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you. I genuinely thought that we were just meeting for the first time, yesterday!”

“I did know you when we were younger. I left here yesterday, and went back and asked around. There weren’t many people that remembered you. But there were a few.”

You felt your breath get shallow, “I-Is Steph…?”

Ari shook his head, “No. She doesn’t even know about us. Most people don’t.”

“Us. So you’re… wait. What are you?”

“An alpha.”

“Okay, so you’re an alpha. Like my father was?” Ari nodded, “yeah. I took over for my father.”

“A-Are there female alpha’s?”

“Not biologically, but you can have an Omega in an ‘Alpha’ position. If he passes away, she would be his successor. Unless they have a son who’s of age.”

You leaned your head back against the back of the couch. “This is hurting my head.”

Ari sympathetically smiled, “it can be a lot.”

“So, I stop taking the blockers, and I’ll become that.. And if I continue taking it, it’ll continue to suppress that…?” You closed your eyes.

Ari nodded, “yeah.”

“I’m sorry to bother you with all of this.. I’m sure you didn’t sign up for it.”

“You don’t owe any apologies. It’s entirely your choice.”

“Wait. You said an Omega can be put into an Alpha position. So, that means that Alpha’s and Omega’s are fated to be together?”

“Most of the time, sometimes you have situations like your parents. Where the Alpha falls for someone outside of the circle.”

“So doesn’t that make me like half?”

Ari chuckled, “it doesn’t work like that. You have more of him in you. You have a scent. So, other Alpha’s and Omega’s can smell that you have a distinction. Normal people don’t have the ability to scent.” “So what do I smell like?”

“Your blockers prevent me from being able to tell you.”

“Oh.”

Ari looked at you, waiting to hear what you wanted to say.

“I don’t know what to do here…”

“You do what you feel is right, sunshine.”

“Okay…”

“Do you have any other questions for me?”

You shook your head, Ari nodded, “Alright, I’m gonna head out. If you think of anything you know where to find me.” He stood.

“Thanks again, for everything.” You whispered and looked up at him.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” Ari smiled, before leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

It had been three weeks, three whole weeks without contacting Ari, and you had no intention of changing that. You had stopped taking the medication two weeks ago, and nothing had changed. You assumed maybe you were more like your mother than he thought. The thought of never speaking to Ari crosses your mind.

Why does that thought make your stomach twist uncomfortably? You shake your head, walking up to your front door. “Foolish” you whisper walking into the house after your work day. Finally, being back within your space just made you tired, and sluggish. You kicked off your sneakers and climbed into your bed to take a nap. Allowing your eyes to close, you almost immediately fall into a deep sleep.

You wake the next morning, to intense discomfort in your stomach. Thinking it was just a cramp, you attempt to sit up. Only to cry out and clutch your stomach. Laying back down, you reach over for your phone, and call out of work. No way you were going in, until you figured out what it was that was plaguing you.

It didn’t feel like a typical period, but it also didn’t feel like a typical cold or flu either. The insistent throbbing was intense, and only increased anytime you moved, no matter how little the movement.

Within a matter of an hour, you were in tears; the pain was so intense. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and your neck. Your body burned, but the fan in your room was doing nothing to cool you off. Every feeling was worse. Your body ached.

Your phone chimed and you answered on instinct. “H-Hello?” You choked out.

“What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked.

“I just feel like shit.” You spoke, tears cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m coming over! I’ll bring soup, and some other things! Okay? What are your symptoms? Maybe I can bring some medication!”

You shook your head, “No. Steph, please. I don’t want any of that, I’m fine. I’m sure it’ll be over soon. I would really rather be alone.” You closed your eyes.

“No, I’m not leaving you to fight this on your own. C’mon. Please!” She begged.

“No, no. Really, I’m okay!” You insisted.

Stephanie sighed, but ultimately stayed silent. You knew she was debating going against your wishes. “I promise I’m okay. I’ll be alright.” You said.

She sighed once again, before conceding. “Okay. Okay, but if you don’t call me in a couple hours and let me know how you are, I’m coming over.” She sternly said.

“I will! I promise! Thank you!” You called, before hanging up.

Another hour, and the body aches grew worse, so did your body heat. You couldn’t sleep, because of the discomfort. You couldn’t hear him, didn’t hear the spare key unlocking the door, didn’t hear him call your name. You didn’t see him, but there he was knocking on the bedroom door, and softly calling your name. Letting out a sob, he let himself in the room. “Hey sunshine.” He called, immediately the air in the room changed.

“Go away” You whined, body twisting in the sheets to face away from him, though it hurt.

“I brought you a couple things. Steph told me where to find the spare key, and said you were sick. Given the events, I knew the truth.” He talked calmly, walking towards the bed.

“No. I don’t want it.” Your voice muffled by the pillow.

“Just some basic comfort items. A couple different blankets, I wasn’t sure which ones were your favorites. I brought some different teas, some different little snacks, but again I’m not sure exactly what you like, and some different shirts, of mine.” “Why would I want your shirts? Why would I want anything from you?” “Are you going to continue to be aggressive? Or do you want to figure this out?”

“Don’t. What do you know? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Sunshine, I really need you to calm down, and not freak out on me. Can we do that?” There was this distinction,this deep timbre of his voice, that wasn’t there before, and you found yourself relaxing against the sheets.

“How did you do that?” The ache had dulled, if only slightly, “Ari, what just happened?”

Ari chuckled, hand splaying across your back, gently rubbing, “can you turn towards me?”

You pouted, and turned your head to face him. “Oh, baby.” Ari pouted back at you. He set the bag down beside him, and moved in closer. Getting in the bed and gently picking you up, and settling you down on his chest. You were immediately surrounded by an outdoorsy scent. Pine was the immediate scent your nose caught. But what was more important, your body relaxed further into him. “It’s called a purr. An alpha pur. It’s got this ability to settle almost anyone like us.”

“No. No. I don’t wanna talk about this. I don’t wanna hear this.” Whining, you pushed off his chest. Ari didn’t let you get far, locking his hands around your back.

“This is who you are, sunshine.”

“No. No, this is who YOU are. This is who my dad was. But it’s not me. It can’t be me.” Your voice cracked. “Easy, honey. I know this is overwhelming, how can I make it better? Tell me what you need, yeah?”

“Nothing. You can’t make it better, it’s just a stupid flu, it’ll be over soon, and then I won’t ever have to see you again.”

“Why do you wanna get rid of me so fast?” Ari pouted, and you had this sudden urge to take everything you said back, to console him.

“What is happening to me?” You whispered, more so speaking to yourself than anything.

Ari brushes your hair back behind your shoulder. “You know what’s happening.” “No! Let me go. Get out of my house. Leave me alone.”

“Baby. Take a breath for me.”

“Stop doing that!”

“No.” Ari turns, pinning you to the mattress. “Now, I’ve been trying to give you space to hopefully come to terms with what you are. With who you are. But you don’t wanna do that, huh baby? So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna talk this out. You’re going to have to grasp this. Your mother knew,” he said leaning down, running his nose down your throat, before straightening out again, “why do you think she wanted to hide it?”

“No! No, you don’t get to talk about them.” Your head tilted gently. “Please,” You whispered.

“C’mon honey. Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

Your hands gripped at his shirt, suddenly the idea of him walking away terrified you. “Ari. I-I don’t.. Please.”

“Use your words baby.”

“All I have is what you’ve told me.” Ari chuckled, “So use what I’ve told you. Use your brain. Ask me what you need to know.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m glad you’re having such a good time with my misery.”

“No, no, hang on-”

“I didn’t want to ask you. I still don’t. I didn’t want to talk to you, or see you. But, here you are.”

Ari raised his eyebrows.

“What’s happening to me?” You whispered.

“You’re in heat. Or entering your heat. Your first one, because of the medication, so it’s intense.”

“So what does that mean for me?”

“That you need to stay home.”

“No. I can’t. I have to work, Ari.”

“I know, but you’re changing. You’re sensitive, both your body and your mind. To be honest with you, you’re going to be in pain and you’re going to be insanely horny, but simply fucking won’t do it for you,” Your eyes widened, “Anyone within our delegation will be able to smell you. Remember? You’ll lead them right to you. Thing is, an omega in heat is so very tempting. It’ll get worse if they can’t see or smell an alpha on you. You’ll be their number one target. So please, just stay home.”

“Why? Do you want me for yourself or something?”

Ari chuckled, “as tempting as that is. I want you to have the choice. They won’t hesitate to take you. Especially if no one has claimed you for lack of a better term.”

Your breath hitched, “how are you able to do it?”

“Do what, honey?”

“Resist. If I’m… unclaimed. That means it has an effect on you too…”

“Like I said, I want it to be your choice. It absolutely affects me. But I need you to come to terms with things before anything gets put on you. This, like everything else, needs to be your choice.”

You bit your lip, considering your next words carefully. “What if I asked you to.”

You swore you could see Ari’s brain short circuit for a moment. “No. Not until you know what that means.”

“So what?” You huff, “You’re gonna sit here and tell me that the only possible way that I can get rid of the pain is if I have someone fuck me. But you won’t help me out with that?!”

“I already told you. It’s not just fucking. Heats and ruts are similar. The same properties, just ruts are typical of a male. Men are often better at keeping their composure as pain is ripping through them. For you, the pain stops when you’re given what’s called a knot.” Ari hummed.

“So nothing else will work. Got it. But, if I can’t go out, how am I supposed to get anything done?”

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll be around, doing basic chores for you. That’s what the shirts are for. If someone does happen to smell you, they’ll smell me. They’ll think you’re claimed, so they won’t touch you.” “So you do have ulterior motives then.” You bit your lip again.

Ari merely stared at you, “I’ve already answered that.”

You pouted, “I was trying to be funny.”

Ari rolled his eyes, and grabbed the plastic bag, setting it on the bed beside you. “Here. I’m gonna go make you some food. Okay?” You nodded, “Any requests?” He asked.

You thought for a moment. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup?” You asked.

Ari grinned, “Coming right up. I’ll be back.”

You watched him walk out of the room, and smiled. You had no idea why you were smiling, but the idea of making Ari smile made you very happy.

You slowly sat up despite the discomfort, and emptied the bag in front of you. All of a sudden, you were enveloped in the same scent that you smelt when you were so close to Ari. You decided that you enjoyed it.

Carefully ripping open one of the blankets, that were softer than anything you ever owned before, you laid it out on the bed. Adding one of Ari’s shirts, it was very comfy, and you felt pride swell in your chest. Settling back under the covers, you were reminded of the pain. Doubling over, you whined. It wasn’t as bad as before, but it was still bad.

Ari came back shortly after with your soup, and sandwich. He smiled widely when he entered, seeing you laying in amongst the blankets and various shirts he brought. Letting out a soft “Here.” as he got closer.

“Well look at you” he said as he kneeled by the bed.

“What?” You asked, taking a bite of the sandwich.

“You’re already nesting.” He smiled.

You frowned, swallowing the bite. “Is that a bad thing?”

Ari shook his head, “No, Honey. It’s a good thing. It’ll keep you as comfortable as possible.”

You nodded, “I liked it better when you were in here with me.” You said, taking another bite, before your eyes widened. “Wait. I-I didn’t… I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.” You rushed to swallow the bite before looking over at Ari.

Ari laughed, full belly laughed, your face heated as your gaze settled on the sandwich. “‘S okay, Sunshine. You’re gonna be a little more direct now.”

You shook your head, but didn’t say anything. Instead you focused on eating. Ari slowly rose to his feet, and sat down next to you. “This better?”

You could hear the playful lilt to his voice, but it still didn’t help the heat in your face. You were mortified. His hand settled along your back. It stayed like that for a while, you eating with Ari rubbing your back in slow circles. It really did feel nice to have him so close.

As he stood to leave, he grabbed your plate. “Wait.” you looked up at him, “before, I-I asked you what I smelt like. You couldn’t tell me… You smell different, so does that mean I do too?”

Ari grinned, “You do. You smell like apples and cinnamon.”

You smiled, big and bright. “Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked.

Ari nodded, “Yeah. Try to get some sleep okay.” Ari leaned down, gently kissing your forehead before walking out.

You heard him rustling around, before ultimately leaving for the night. Surprisingly, it didn’t take you much to fall asleep that night.

True to his word, Ari came back the following day. The only indication being you could hear him rattling around in the kitchen. Slowly getting out of bed, you were met with the lovely sight of Ari cleaning your kitchen, shirtless.

You cleared your throat, attempting to look anywhere but at him as he turned around. “G’morning sleepyhead. I brought you a coffee, but I wasn’t sure what you took in it, so there’s creamer, milk and sugar in the bag on the table.”

“Thanks.” You said slowly walking over to the table, grabbing the coffee.

“How’re you feeling?” Ari crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter.

You felt your mouth dry, “uh… Is there a way I’m supposed to feel? I feel like shit.” Glancing up at him, you felt the air drain from your lungs.

Ari chuckled, “Par for the course. Maybe a shower would make you feel better?”

“Can a shower get rid of this itching in my bones?” You quipped.

Ari laughed, “No, but it can help with the stickiness, and sweat.”

You rolled your eyes before walking out to the shower.

You turned the water on, as hot as you can stand it, before stepping in. You stood under the cascading water, allowing it to, at the very least, relax the tense muscles. You opted to just give your body a quick wash.

You did have to admit, you felt better, still not the best, but getting there. You noted as you stepped out, and dried yourself off, wrapping the towel around your body afterwards.

Walking to the door you opened it, and found yourself face to face with Ari, who had his hand raised as if he was going to knock. “Hi.” You whispered. Ari cleared his throat as his eyes took in your lack of clothing. His eyes snapped up to your face, before he moved out of the way.

You frowned, before walking back into your room, Ari following.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Ari paced the space.

You pouted, “I didn’t even do anything.”

“You did! You come out in a fucking towel, after asking me yesterday to fuck you.” Ari growled.

“You said no. Has that answer changed?” You watched him, before, “Ari. You’re going to burn a hole in the carpet.” You attempted to make light of the situation.

Ari groaned, glancing at you. His eyes cascaded down your body, before snapping back to your face. “Fuck.” He muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

“Please” You whispered into the room.

“Sunshine, you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“I do. I want it. I want you. Please.”

“Sweetheart.”

You nodded, “Please. Ari, please.” You whined.

“You sound so sweet when you’re begging, baby.”

Your face heated, putting your hands in front of your face.

“No. No. None of that” Ari chastised, walking to you, and pulling your hands from your face. “Let me see you. Do you want it? Take it off for me baby.”

Ari moved to sit back on the bed, to give you enough space. You gulped and lifted the towel from your body. Tossing it gently to the floor. Your eyes never left Ari, as he bit his lip, and groaned, throwing his head back. “You don’t even realize what you’re doing.” You moved to sit somewhat beside him.

You pouted as he looked back at you. “In a good way, baby. A very good way.” Ari smirked, crawling towards you. “Lay back for me.”

You hesitated just for a moment, before laying back against the pillows, looking down the length of your body at Ari. He followed, stretching out over you “Such a good girl. Look at you.”

You pouted, reaching forward and pulling on his belt loops. “You’re not being fair.” Ari grinned back, pulling his pants off.

This time, you didn’t stop yourself from shamelessly ogling. Carefully, he laid down, draping his body over yours. “Is that better, baby?” You could only nod dumbly, encased entirely in Ari’s scent. “What do you want?” he leaned down, running his nose over your throat, before leaving gentle kisses up the length.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Why do you keep doing that?”

Ari chuckled. “Number 1 reason? You smell so fucking good. Number 2,” he brought his hand up, and gently pressed against the side of your neck, “right here. Is where a specific gland is located. It's called the mating gland. Biting it, essentially marks you as mine. Forever.”

Gasping, you tilt your head just slightly, but Ari tracks the movement. “You want that baby? Want me to mark you. Make you mine.”

You whined, “please” lifting your hips, you unintentionally grind down on Ari’s cock.

“Jesus, Fuck.” Ari’s head fell forward, catching on your shoulder.

You squeaked, “sorry.”

He leaned back up, gently brushing his lips against yours. “Don’t tease.” You whispered.

Ari let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan before surging forward and kissing you. It was as if nothing else mattered to him, like he’d been possessed and had to have you.

He tasted like coffee, with a slight undertone that was unique to him. You could feel the movements of Ari pulling his briefs off, before his hand settled on your hip, as his tongue laved against your bottom lip. Your arms had come up settling against his shoulders, as one of your hands weaved itself into his hair. Ari moaned, pressing his hips down into yours.

Gasping, you pulled away breathless. You whined his name. Ari grunted in return, “I know, baby, I know. Gonna give it to you, yeah? ‘S that what you want, pretty girl?” He remarked, lifting himself with one hand, before his other went to his cock.

Glancing down your body, with a muddled, “You’re gonna be the death of me baby. Fucking hell.” Ari gave himself a couple strokes, before gently lining himself up. “Ready?”

“Please, Ari, please.” You babbled. Your eyes widened, letting out an obscenely loud moan as he sank into you.

“Fuck. Shit. Relax, baby, you gotta relax for me.” Ari gritted out, “Please, fuck, you’re so tight.”

Whining, as he bottomed out. “Jesus.. Gonna move okay honey?”

A plethora of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ left your mouth in a hurry. Moaning as he pulled almost completely out of you, before pushing back in.

Ari set a soft, slow pace, making sure you felt every drag of his cock. You moaned his name, and he locked his eyes onto yours. “That’s it, atta girl. Look at you. My good girl.”

Ari watched as his words lit a fire in your eyes. “Yes, Ari. Please.” You had no clue what you were begging for at this point. But fuck, if he didn’t relish in it.

“There she is. That what you want, Sunshine? You wanna be my good girl?” He grunted out, hips picking up their pace if only slightly.

You nodded shakily, moaning.

“Fuck, you are. Need you to cum baby.” Ari gritted. “Please. Need to feel you cum.”

Whimpering, you could feel it beginning at the base of your spine, like he was in control of everything. Your body could do nothing but succumb to his command.

Your body locked, muscles tight, screaming his name as he bit down against your mating glad, triggering your orgasm.

You could distantly hear Ari chanting, over the dull roar in your ears. “Gonna give it to you, fuck gonna give you everything.” He growled only moments before his own release triggered.

You could only gasp, as you felt the heat, radiating throughout your body. Ari had collapsed on top of you, mindful to not put his entire weight on you.

You played with Ari’s hair as you both came down from your respective highs. “You alright?” Ari questioned, voice soft.

You hummed, “I feel incredible.” You smiled.

“Good. Good. We’re gonna wait a minute, and then we’ll do it all over again, and this time. You’ll bite me.” Ari smirked before flattening his tongue over the spot he bit.

“Oh!” You squeaked, causing Ari to laugh.

#ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson imagines #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #red sea diving resort #ari levinson fanfiction

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maccreadysbaby · 5 months

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

this chapters kinda short but I wanted the ANGST to have its own moment lmao, loved leaning into damian’s insecurity for this one

also thank you dami for refueling bentley’s incredibly irrational and borderline stupid idea making tendencies

part nine

❝ PITY ❞

THURSDAY — AUGUST 6 — 5:11PM

BENTLEY DIDN’T SLEEP AGAIN AFTER HIS NIGHTMARE, AND NEITHER DID BRUCE. Instead, they went back to the cave after a while and sat with Dick. All of Alfred’s swabs and tests came back clear, which meant he hadn’t been injected with, inhaled, or even misted with any kind of toxic chemical that could do this to him. (Bruce had told Bentley about fear toxin, an inhalable chemical one of their past villains used that made a person live through their worst fears in their head.) A quick comparison of current Dick’s vital charts and past-Dick-on-fear-toxin’s charts looked freakishly similar, despite one major change: he didn’t have any fear toxin in him.

Which meant, if it wasn’t chemical, he was being attacked psychologically. Somehow.

All signs pointed to it being the Secret Keeper, but she hadn’t done anything to anyone besides plaguing them in bad dreams, much less knocking them out without touching them and wreaking havoc on their brains for six hours. (Which was how long Dick had thrashed and cried and whined for in his unconscious state.) On hour seven, he went limp and still, which probably meant he’d tired himself out.

Bentley didn’t go to school on Wednesday or Thursday, and he didn’t sleep Wednesday night, either. Bruce didn’t seem to mind (he actually seemed a little relieved) and Bentley didn’t want to risk seeing the Secret Keeper out and about. His teachers posted his classwork online, anyhow, so he wouldn’t miss any schoolwork. He spent the better of the two days switching between using Tim’s old computer to do his schoolwork, playing red light green light around the Manor to avoid Damian, drifting down to the cave to check on Dick, and attempting to take power naps that never lasted that long.

Not to mention being texted… like a lot. Ot started when Nico texted early Wednesday morning to ask if he was okay, and why he wasn’t at school. Bentley simply told him he had been sick the night before. (Technically not a lie.) Then Nico took it upon himself to text Bentley all about their environmental science class, even including pictures of their worksheets, and had also taken it upon himself to ask how Bentley was feeling just about every hour. (He always just said better than last night.) Then, Bentley got a text from a random number at lunchtime on Wednesday about how Damian was, quote-on-quote, so creepy. And only ten minutes later and lots of confusion from Bentley did that number come back and say, oh yeah, it’s asten, got your number from nico. heard you were sick. sucks dude.

While Asten wasn’t as incessant about asking how Bentley was doing as Nico was, he did tell him about Spanish class and rant about Ms. Venetstantos making him speak Portuguese every day. And he decided Bentley was a good outlet for all things conspiracy and detective-y, because he kept sending him random articles about metahumans and missing people and Secret Keeper sightings and typing long, drawn out theories about what was going on that ranged from plausible to outright impossible. (Bentley only pretended he read the ones about the Secret Keeper.)

He didn’t remember until those texts that he and Asten had both put detective as their dream job on their get to know me sheets. (Nico had pointed it out on the second day of school when the teacher put those up in the hallway.) He was obviously getting started early. The amount of recon and web-surfing and conclusion drawing he did reminded Bentley of Tim.

Speaking of, Tim and Jason and Steph and Cass had all shown up at the Manor Wednesday and Thursday. Which was strange, considering they’d all been avoiding Damian like the plague. But he didn’t mind — he liked having everybody home.

Bentley started to get really worried about Dick when, on Thursday at five in the evening, (42 hours after Dick had collapsed on Patrol.) he was still laying in that same bed, not thrashing like before, but tossing and turning, still visibly distressed.

He’d been long since changed out of his Nightwing uniform and into some loose sweats, and was connected to drips and other things to keep him hydrated and nourished in his unconscious state. Bentley had finished another color-the-map geography paper about an hour ago and made his way back to the rolling chair stationed next to Dick’s bed.

He had no earthly idea what was wrong with him, but he wished it would all stop. It'd been hard enough seeing Dick during a nightmare he could wake up from — but now, when he was trapped in his own head and no amount of yelling or shaking could snap him out of it, it was practically a form of secondary torture for the entire family. Tim had retired to the Batcomputer, trying so hard to find some kind of solution, or at least a case of something similar, and Bentley didn’t think he’d been upstairs since Dick collapsed.

As of now, five in the evening on Thursday, he, Bentley and Dick were the only three in the cave. Alfred popped in and out often, and Bruce a little less often.

Bentley was sitting next to Dick’s bed, telling him about all the texts he’d been receiving. (Alfred said talking to him would help, so Bentley was trying his best.) He’d taken to telling him about Asten’s conspiracy theories and the new group chat he’d been added to not three minutes ago, with Nico and Asten, in which they were arguing about the possibility of said conspiracies and asking for Bentley’s input. (Asten’s conspiracy about aliens swapping a human’s brain for an alien brain via something he called ‘materialization tech’ and endowing them with the power of the stars being the origin of metahumans was the one on the table now. It was already segwaying into metahuman world domination.)

But eventually, even with the group chat blowing up his phone with the probabilities of metahumans turning the country into a dictatorship, he fell quiet and just took to holding Dick’s hand. He didn’t scream when he grabbed it, at least. But it didn’t seem to make anything better, either.

He was just debating on whether or not he should try to wake him up again when a voice sounded from the doorway of the medbay:

“Hey, Bentley,”

He glanced over, brown eyes locking onto Tim’s icy blue ones. He looked exhausted. Bentley knew he’d been working hard on the missing person and metahuman cases before this happened to Dick. But now? Bentley wasn’t sure if self-preservation was even on his radar anymore. He hadn’t seen him ingest anything other than coffee in a solid two days (given he very well could have when Bentley wasn’t around.) and he was pretty sure sleep wasn’t even a thing he thought about anymore. Though he looked like he needed it.

“Hey,” Bentley replied quietly, slipping his hand out of Dick’s and pulling it back to his lap.

“Doing okay?” Was Tim’s next question, and he moved forward just enough to rest a hand on the top of Bentley’s head.

He shrugged. “Have you found anything to help Dick?”

The weakly plastered-on content expression fell off of Tim’s face. “No. I haven’t been able to find anything.”

Bentley said nothing, but looked back at Dick, who was moving his head back and forth with soft whines.

“Is he going to die?”

It was a heavy question, yeah, but a question that had undoubtedly been floating around in all of their minds since his unfortunate patrol. With all the metahuman stuff out of the way, Dick would technically be classified as in a coma. And lots of people who went into comas didn’t come out of them.

Bentley heard Tim let out a puff of air.

“I don’t know,” He said, hardly a whisper, letting his hand move down Bentley’s head and rest on the back of his neck. “He’s stable, even if it looks like he’s in pain. It’s not ideal, but it’s… better than anything getting worse, I guess.”

Bentley nodded slightly, and hoped that Dick would get better soon.

He heard someone walk across the room on the other side of the cave, and both he and Tim glanced over just in time to see Damian disappear back up the stairs to the Manor. When had he come down there? He wasn’t down there five minutes ago.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Tim suggested after a quiet moment. “He might actually open up to you.”

Bentley glanced over at him skeptically. “Damian? No he won’t.”

Tim snickered. “That kid would never in a million years cuddle up next to anybody sick like he did you. And he definitely wouldn’t get up in a hospital bed with any of us except, maybe Dick.”

Bentley said nothing. He did kind of miss Damian. Like, the old, not-angry Damian, that took him around the Manor to do things and actually talked to him.

Bentley shrugged. “I’m afraid he’s gonna stab me.”

“Aren’t we all?” Tim snickered. “Seriously, though, he cares about you. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“I know, but…” Bentley trailed off, glancing down at his hands.

“There’s still a chance,” Tim finished his thought. “Yeah, I know.”

Bentley said nothing.

“It might be good for you to go upstairs for a while,” He continued, and Bentley glanced back up at Dick, who was still shifting uncomfortably in the bed. “I’ll sit with him.”

Bentley nodded. He wasn’t really in the mood to argue, and he needed to finish his schoolwork anyway.

He pushed himself out of the chair and bid goodbye to Tim, heading back up to the Manor. He took to reading the group chat messages he’d missed on the way through the house and up the stairs. Nico was currently trying to explain to Asten that aliens couldn’t use technology he’d made up, and he was arguing that they could because they could read everyone’s minds.

Bentley had nearly made it into his room when he bumped right into someone.

“Sorry-“ He muttered, glancing up from his screen to meet Damian’s ice cold blue-green eyes. The assassin’s glare alone shut Bentley up.

Damian walked past him with nothing more than a faint scowl, heading for the stairs.

He wasn’t planning on talking to him, but it was a better opportunity than seeking the angry assassin out.

“… hey, Damian?”

Bentley turned on his heel, and Damian did, too, shooting him another dagger-like-glance.

Bentley wanted to recoil and say nevermind, but that wouldn’t be very helpful. “What’s wrong?” He asked instead, really focusing on the fact that Tim said Damian wouldn’t hurt him.

“You should know well enough, Whittaker,”

Bentley nearly flinched when Damian used his last name instead of Bentley like he always did. Why in the world would he know what was going on when Damian wouldn’t tell anyone?

“I don’t…” Bentley blinked, searching Damian’s face and then looking at the floor when the unpleasant expression got too reminiscent of his father’s. He knew what that expression meant. And coming from Damian, it made him want to cry.

A moment of silence passed, and when it was clear Damian didn’t intend on speaking, Bentley muttered in a tiny voice: “You’re mad at me?”

Silence.

Bentley thought and thought and thought about all the interactions he’d had with Damian before he started getting upset, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember doing anything wrong. He’d asked Damian to teach him about throwing knives, but he’d told him yes. (He hadn’t done it yet. Was it maybe Bentley’s fault for never asking again?) He didn’t think that was enough to make Damian so upset for so long.

Bentley wished he could bring his knees up, but he was standing, so he wrapped his arms around himself instead. He hoped Damian couldn’t see the slight wetness brimming in his eyes at the very prospect he’d done something so bad the assassin didn’t even want to talk to him anymore and he didn’t know what it was.

He looked at the floor in a vague attempt to hide it. “What did I do?”

“Exactly what you’re doing right now,” Damian replied bitterly, in a tone that literally made Bentley want to start crying. “You weaseled your way into this family with nothing more than pity. All you have to do is shed a few tears and you have the whole household at your feet — the only reason you’re here is because my father and brothers feel bad for you. Because you’re exactly what your father trained you to be. A manipulator.”

Bentley did flinch, that time, like he was dodging knives made of words. It wouldn’t be any use — Damian never missed.

“Your relationships are built on pity, your place in this family is built on pity. Even Drake has contributed more than you, and I’m not shy about discussing his obvious inferiority,” Damian spat. “I am a Wayne by blood and I have to work to be part of this. If I had even considered doing anything like you did with your father, considered betraying this family like you did, they would…”

Damian trailed off.

“You don’t deserve to be here. It’s pity that’s keeping you in this house, pity that’s holding your relationships together, and once that pity is gone, what’s going to be left? Nothing. Because pity is all you are. Pity is what you’re built for, and once it’s gone, you’re going to be left with nothing, useless, just like your father created you to be.”

Bentley watched through blurry eyes as Damian turned and continued down the stairs like he hadn’t just dispatched a carefully-sharpened killshot right through Bentley’s chest.

Damian didn’t want him there.

Thank goodness he was right next to his bedroom, because he hardly had time to get inside and close the door before he started crying.

Everything Damian said was right — he was in this family out of pity. If it weren’t for pity, none of this would’ve happened.

And Damian didn’t want him there. This was his worst nightmare. Tim was wrong, Damian had hurt him.

He walked over to his bed in the dark — the lights were off but the sun was still somewhat out — and curled up in a tiny ball in it, covered his head with the blankets, and cried.

Dick had been taken in when he had nothing, and became Robin to help Bruce fight crime. Jason got taken in off the streets and became Robin. Tim got taken out of a neglectful household and became Robin. Damian got shipped here from overseas to be Robin. Cass, Duke, Steph, Barbara, they were all superheroes, crime fighters, vigilantes.

What the hell did Bentley have to do to make himself deserve being a Wayne?

Become a superhero?

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

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elizabethemerald · 1 year

Text

DP/DC Imbalanced Light

AO3

Duke was one of the first back to the Batcave when the message came through that Bruce was bringing in an injured child. He was quickly joined by the rest of the family. Most injured parties were brought straight to a hospital, no matter their age, so the entire Bat clan were curious about what made this case stand out. A potential new sibling was an all hands on deck sort of event.

Cass and Steph joined next, Dick was picking up Dr. Thompkins, Tim had been coordinating the Bats from the Cave so was already there. Jason and Damian would probably join later, they had been further out when the call came in but Duke doubted even the two angriest members of the family would miss out on the excitement.

Everyone currently in the cave gathered close when the Batmobile roared into the cave. Though they easily parted to allow Alfred through to Bruce’s side. The two of them pulled a young boy out of the side seat of the Batmobile. Duke grimaced behind his helmet. The kid may be the same age as Tim, or thereabouts, but he still looked far worse for wear. There was blood coating the front of his shirt and he looked far too small, like he hadn’t been eating properly.

With a gasp the boy in Bruce’s arms was jostled awake. He tried to squirm out of his hold, but Bruce managed to keep him in hand. Eventually the boy’s wild eyes settled on the Batfam and seemed to calm. He reached a shaky, blood covered hand out to the group as Bruce carried him toward the medical room in the Batcave.

“Signal? Wait, I need to talk to Signal! Signal!” The boy desperately cried, trying once again to fight his way out of Bruce’s hold.

Duke was honestly surprised that the kid was calling for him. Signal was hardly the best known of Gotham’s heroes and he felt like most kids were either interested in talking to one of the Robins considering they were usually closest in age, or to Nightwing because Dick was friendly. However with a kid clearly in distress Signal followed as Bruce carried the kid into the medical room.

“I need to talk to Signal.” The kid was telling Bruce, trying to push Alfred’s hands away from him.

“Danny, please-”

“No! I have to talk to him! I have to talk to him alone!”

Alfred looked carefully at the kid, Danny apparently, then stepped back.

“Please make the conversation quick. You are still in need of medical care, Master Daniel.”

“It’s Danny, and fine.”

Alfred and Bruce stepped out and the glass door of the medical room closed behind them. Duke however had eyes only for the kid in front of him. Danny was obviously in pain. He kept one hand pressed tightly to his chest, and a grimace on his face. There were also several scars that ran up his neck, the worst of which was the Litchenberg figures that crept up his neck and scattered across one side of his face, even going through one of his eyes. To Duke’s Ghost Vision the scars seemed to glow and pulse, as if still remembering the electricity that had caused them.

Danny looked at him desperately, fear marring his face as he nervously glanced towards where Bruce and Alfred had stepped out before meeting his gaze again. Duke wasn’t sure what he needed, but wanted to get this conversation over with before Dick arrived with Dr. Thompkins. She didn’t appreciate being kept waiting when she had a patient.

“So, your name is Danny right?” Duke asked.

“The forums say you’re a meta.” Danny asked instead of answering. His voice came out quiet and low as if he were telling a secret. “Is that true?”

Duke put out his hand, and created a small firework display across his palm with his photokinesis. It was the same trick he did when he ran into small scared children as Signal. Just something light and silly to break the tension and it did seem to bring Danny’s focus off his injuries.

“Yes, I’m a meta.”

“Everyone knows Batman hates metas.” Danny said, glancing nervously at the door again, his voice dropping further into a whisper. “Does he hate you? Are you forced to help him? Does he… do experiments on you?”

Duke let his hand drop out of sight of Danny as he lay on the bed in the med bay. He clenched his hand into a tight fist. Dammit Bruce. You and your stupid rules. He could see that Danny was clearly just about out of his mind with fear and just as obviously had some bad experiences that were weighing on him. Duke needed to calm him down enough for Alfred and Leslie to take of him and quickly. He took a deep breath and kept his voice soft as he started speaking.

“Batman doesn’t hate metas. He doesn’t like other heroes like Superman coming into Gotham when they don’t know how this city works. Many of our rogues are simply humans with mental illness. Even most of the goons are just poor people who are desperate for work. They don’t need some super powered demi-god smacking them down. And he’s eased up on that a lot recently.” Duke took a moment to gather his thoughts. He could hear Dick’s car driving into the cave and knew that Leslie Thompkins had arrived. “Batman has been nothing but kind to me since my parents died. He’s trained me to help protect the city I grew up in. He may not be perfect, but he won’t hurt you, and I won’t let him if he tries.”

Danny nodded a few times, his eyes downcast, as if trying to convince himself of something before he finally looked back up at Duke.

“I’m- I’m sort of like you.” Danny whispered. “I’m like a meta.”

The words seemed like they were physically painful for Danny to say, and considering how tightly most metas held onto the secret of their powers that wasn’t too surprising. Duke didn’t have the time to puzzle out what exactly “like a meta” meant as opposed to just being a meta, but he knew at least he could provide Danny with some comfort.

“Well, Danny, one meta to another, I promise you Batman won’t hurt you because of your power. While you’re here you’re safe.” Duke looked up as a knock sounded at the door to the med bay. He could see Leslie and Alfred standing on the other side of the glass door. “Agent A has helped me a lot when I’ve been injured and Dr. T has cared for a lot of people, including metas that have come through her clinic. You’ll be safe with them. May I let them in?”

Danny took just a moment longer to think about it before he nodded.

“Will you stay with me?” His words sounded so pained and scared that Duke couldn't help but agree immediately.

He opened the door for Alfred and Leslie, then turned his back to remove his helmet and apply a paper surgical mask. He scrubbed his hands just as the other two did before rejoining Danny at the bedside. Once the door was closed and the older two were getting ready, Duke addressed Danny.

“Is there anything about your physiology that would be different from a non meta?” He said the words loud enough to clue in the other two. Danny nodded and gripped the rails on the patient bed tightly in fear.

“My core temperature, heart rate and respiration rate are lower than a standard human’s.” He recited the words like he had rehearsed them many times. “My blood is considered a hazard and needs to be destroyed, preferably by incineration.”

“Is your blood radioactive?” Thompkins asked, her experience helping other metas would be invaluable with helping Danny.

“Radioactive?” Danny seemed confused by the question for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s uh, corrosive I think? Jazz didn't mention radioactivity when she gave me the script to memorize.”

Leslie carefully cut Danny free of his blood soaked hoodie and shirt. Duke again had to clench his hand into a fist at the sight of a Y shaped incision that spanned Danny’s entire torso. Like an autopsy. Or vivisection. The cut had been messily stitched and stapled closed, but Danny had clearly popped a few stitches when he panicked after seeing Bruce. Surrounding the largest injury were numerous scars. Small burns, stab wounds, the Litchenberg figures continued across his torso and several precise cuts that could only be the result of deliberate torture or experimentation.

Alfred raised his eyebrow, but didn’t comment as the two of them set to work examining the injuries. Leslie’s lips pressed into a thin line and she also kept her comments to herself. Danny seemed grateful for their reticence. Duke knew he had seen a lot of the worst of the worst during his time as a vigilante in Gotham, but this still pushed it to another level. Danny was as scarred as any of the Robins except for Jason.

The two healers worked quickly cleaning and dressing each of the wounds, though the largest still needed more work. The lights over head flickered with each deep breath Danny took as they cared for his injuries. Duke used his powers to keep the lights steady for their work.

“Master Danny, we will need to remove the old stitching and staples to properly close and stitch your largest injury.” Alfred said. “We can apply an IV to let you sleep through the procedure.”

Danny was already shaking his head.

“Doesn’t work on me.” He hissed out past his gritted teeth.

“We have meta-strength-”

“Doesn’t work on me.” Danny shook his head again. “Even the strongest painkillers and anesthetics burn off almost immediately.”

“You have an enhanced metabolism?” Leslie asked.

Danny shrugged, then pressed his head back against the pillow. “I was awake when mom did this to me, I can handle you fixing it awake too.”

He refused to look at anyone else in the room even as looks of fury and rage crossed each of their faces. He reached out blindly and Duke took his hand to hold. Leslie and Alfred grimaced but nodded. If they didn’t want Danny to bleed out they needed to fix the slap-dash stitches and staples.

Danny didn’t scream while they worked and while he gripped Duke’s hand tightly, he clearly wasn’t using even a portion of his full strength. The metal of the bed frame squeaked and whined in protest as he gripped it hard enough to leave a handprint in the metal.

Whatever Danny’s ability was combined with his own Ghost vision to create disturbing images flash around Danny’s body, like an after image on a dark night. Neither Alfred nor Leslie reacted, so it was clear Duke was the only person who could see them. Each lingered in his eyes for a moment before fading to nothingness before being replaced by the next.

He saw two people, one a woman and the other man with a build similar to Bruce’s leaning over Danny’s body, blades in their hands and macabre smiles etched into their faces. He saw a flaming crown burning in the air over Danny’s head. He saw two teens Danny’s age and someone only slightly older trying to lift and carry Danny while obviously fighting with someone.

Frozen fractals appeared in the afterimages, growing with each after image into twisting and writhing tentacles. This was the most painful part of the operation as the two healers worked to pull out a staple that had gone through his skin into his sternum. Danny arched his back, his breathing coming in slow pants. When he opened his eyes they glowed like Jason’s did. Danny’s ears grew pointed and where he was biting his lip to keep from screaming his fangs grew long and pointed. Finally Danny couldn’t take any more and blacked out fully, his eyes rolling back into his head.

For a short time the afterimages still burned their way into Duke’s vision. The fractal tentacles continued to writhe before fading. A man appeared before Duke, looking down at Danny’s body in distress. He was wearing a long, hooded cloak. In the next flash he was suddenly an old man, looking beaten and worn by the passage of time. Then he was suddenly a young child, younger even than Damian, staring down at Danny with that same distress clear on his face. Finally the man returned to his original age and looked up to meet Duke’s eyes. His head tilted to the side in curiosity before he glanced down at a pocket watch that was hanging from his cloak and gave it a firm nod and disappeared.

The last of the flickering images slowly vanished as well, Alfred and Leslie still not noticing them at all, as the two of them finished their work and settled a blanket over Danny’s heavily bandaged torso. Duke patted Danny’s limp hand with his own before he left the med bay. The rest of the Bat fam were gathered around, but Duke made his way straight to Bruce. As he went Cass came and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. He wondered idly what his body language was telling her that had her reaching out at this moment.

“You need to do some serious PR work on Batman’s views of metas.” Duke said shortly to Bruce. He didn’t really care what his mentor’s motivations were, they needed to change and they needed to let the public know.

“The kid’s a meta?” Jason asked, leaning forward.

Duke nodded, still not taking his eyes off Bruce.

“I don’t know what he thought you would do to him, either run him off or cut him open.” Duke hesitated as he examined the momentary grief that appeared in Bruce’s eyes. “Again. Cut him open again. Someone vivisected him.”

A sharp noise sounded as something snapped in Jason’s hands. Red Hood had green light blazing in his eyes as Dick immediately moved to grab his shoulder, whether to comfort him or to hold him back, Duke didn’t know. Bruce leaned forward, his face once again stoic.

“What are your thoughts on his abilities?” He asked.

If Duke wasn't so suddenly exhausted he would either roll his eyes or join Jason in trying to tear Bruce a new one. Of course when he’s distressed he falls back on old, bad habits. Examining threats and planning counter plans.

“Alfred and Leslie know enough about him to care for him for now. You can ask about the rest of his powers once he’s up and about.” Duke said. He wasn’t going to reveal Danny’s clearly hard fought secrets. “The one thing I will say is that while we can expect him to be fragile, we cannot treat him with kid gloves. Danny’s got more scars than anyone I’ve ever seen who isn’t a bat. He’s clearly a fighter and deserves to be treated like one.”

Duke turned away. He needed to be done. He needed to just shut his brain off for a little.

“I’m taking the next couple of days off patrol. Can someone cover for me?”

He was half afraid that someone would accuse him of trying to cheat his way into the spot of best brother for their new potential sibling. Instead Stephanie and Dick immediately volunteered to help cover some of the daylight patrols.

Duke walked away, calling the shadows of the cave to him. With a family half raised or trained by ninjas they were all used to using the shadows and darkness to their advantage. But none of them could command the shadows and make the darkness answer their call like Duke could. The darkness of the cave swallowed him, hiding him completely from sight as he searched for some place to sit and think about everything he had just seen. Everything that Danny must have gone through.

@starkcravingmad, @blacksea21090, @rainybyday

#Danny Phantom #batman #duke thomas #mistaken identity #team phantom researched Gotham before Danny left to hide and recover there #they determined that Signal would be someone safe to possibly reach out as long Danny could pretend he was a meta not a ghost #let me know what you think #and please reblog!

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morgansunflower · 7 months

Text

A Kind Gesture 2/2

Older! Damian Wayne X Reader

Requested by @sparklz02

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language, angst.

Words:1486

Damian and Y/N had grown distant to cause a barrier between them. She had to get away..

It was torment. Damian and Y/N barely spoke to each other. She had become distant just as he had. Neither he or she laughed or even smiled. The family tried to encourage them to reconcile though Damian believed she hated him and she believed he didn't love her. She felt it was best to leave Gotham.

There was a 6 month trip involving a team of vigilantes to assist planets in need of help. She had planned to sign up... Though she had to do something which was going to be very difficult... Telling the family...

It wasn't going to be easy for anyone to hear. She didn't want them to think she wasn't grateful.

She first wanted to tell Alfred first. She found him in the kitchen washing the dishes... She was going to miss his wisdom and kindness.. Everything about her grandfather.. Expect his waffles.

"hey Alfred.. There's something I need to tell you"

"yes my dear" Alfred said he saw her saddening expression "I shall prepare us a pot of tea"

As they sat together drinking tea he listened to every word. He was greatly saddened by her words. He worried about her safety and that this isn't what she truly wanted. After the two had a tearful embrace she had to tell Bruce and Talia.

As she told them, the couple looked to each other and than back to the woman their son loved.

"given your relationship with our son is in turmoil at the moment, we do not wish you to leave" Talia said

"I appreciate that, truly but.. This is what I want" she insisted lying

"you always have a home here" Bruce promised hoping Damian and Y/N would not follow the lonely path he and Talia took.

Y/N had texted everyone who was not aware of her soon departure to meet her at the Manor amongst the family room.. Excluding Damian. She couldn't even begin to cope with thinking of how she was going to tell him. Everyone looks to Y/N with worried gazes as they can see in her eyes that she didn't bring good news.

"I.. I don't want any of you to think I haven't been truly grateful for all you've done for me" she stammered clearing her throat "I suppose, some of you may of heard of a group of vigilantes leaving off planet to aid other planets..."

"of course, why are you?..." Barbara stammered realizing what she was trying to tell them. "is it true?" she asked

"what?!.." Jason sees Dick's face fall along with the others "are you seriously thinking about leaving?!" Jason snapped

".. I already told Alfred, Bruce and Talia.. I wanted to tell you guys before I signed up"

"I can't believe this" Stephanie cried "is this about Damian? You shouldn't leave just because things are bad between the two of you" she said

"I need to do this. I need to be on my own"

"Y/N you are so strong and you don't have to prove that to yourself or to anyone.. And if this is really about Damian. Leaving like this isn't going to help you or him" Dick said

"I know..."

....

It was 5 hours until she was to leave. She had her suitcase open as she deeply sighed. Everything was, packed...

"you really don't have to do this.." Stephanie said

She looks seeing Steph with Cass both looking to her with sympathy.

"I know.. It's not that I don't love all of you but.. I just need to get away.." from Damian.

"before you do there's something we want to show you" Steph said

She followed the girls as they locked arms together. They walk into the family room. Y/N closed her eyes tightly to keep from crying and her lips shake so she wouldn't cry. There stood Alfred, Grayson, Jason, Tim, Duke, Damian, Talia, Bruce and Barbara in her wheelchair. Among the family was snacks and food and a cake, which said ~farewell to our baby sister~

"you really think we'd let you leave without a goodbye party" Grayson smiled to her

Y/N smiled with tears in her e/c eyes. She hugs both Stephanie and Cass.

"you guys really didn't have to" she said lost for words

She hugs each tightly as she came to Damian he hugged her first. Listening to his heart rather than his head. He was utterly broken inside. As Y/N had a moment alone, Damian needed answers.

"why is it I heard only hours ago you are leaving?" Damian questioned with a snarl on his face.

"I was going to tell you... Just was waiting on the right time" she said unable to look at him because she knew she should have told him.

"when exactly is the right time? When you leave out the door and send me a message? Is it right before you leave? Or let me discover you were gone?"

"you pushed me away Damian" she cried with trembling lips "I can't do this"

"no this is your farewell party.. I'll leave" Damian snarled angered with himself

As he walker past her she takes a deep breath "please stay" she cleared her throat "I want you to stay"

So much of his heart craved to hug her and beg her to stay.

As she said her final goodbyes Damian watches her leave as his sinks further down to his knees. He left to an empty room so his pain would be able to escape.

With a heavy sigh and heavier heart Damian sits down. His heart felt as though it did when she was suffering because of him. How much must he hurt her? He loved her so deeply it made him feel joy and yet now it made him feel heartbreak.

"there is nothing to cause a barrier between you and Y/N. You have my blessing and your father's" Talia said entering the room.

"I wish it were that simple.." Damian sighed softly

"take it from my past with your father. We made it through the storm and you can to, with her. I see your heart light up in her presence. Admitting your wrong go's so much deeper than you can even comprehend"

"even if I do.. She's leaving" Damian scoffed his heart was beating rapidly by the mere thought of how much he was going to miss her. That he couldn't see her. It made him feel sick.

"you cannot let yourself live with regret son. She loves you just as I love your father..." Talia holds her son's hand just as she did when he was so small and fragile "you deserve to be happy.."

"mother she has already left.."

"if that were true why was she not among the files of vigilantes sighed to leave" Bruce said entering the room

Damian softly smiled to his, mother and kisses her forehead. He smiled to his father. Their support gave him the courage to chase after her. Damian grabs the key to his car and runs out the door.

"why was he rushing to get out?" Dick asked walking into the room

"bringing Y/N home" Talia smiled

"she's not LEAVING!!! She made us go through that emotional goodbye and she's not even leaving" Dick exclaimed

Damian knew exactly where she was. He parked by Gotham park. He walks to the bench seeing her. Y/N was sitting on the bench with her suitcase rested beside her.

Damian sits beside her bringing his hands together. He was so happy she stayed but before he could reveal that. He had to fix what he broke...

"how'd you know where to find me?" she asked

"as I recall in our younger days you loved this place" Damian kindly said

".. I was about to leave but I would have been leaving for the wrong reasons" she admitted

"when we were in the desert.. I wanted to tell you everything but ever since that moment I would think of when your heart--" he felt weakened in his throat as it shook

"I know" she said tearfully

"I was in fear of what could happen if I let you in further... I treated you as though you meant nothing, because you mean everything to me" he takes her hand rubbing the top of it with his thumb, her eyes shaking by his genuineness "in the simplest terms.. I love you"

Damian's heart leaps and his arms wrap around her as she hugged him. She let herself hide in his neck like a blanket. A large, protective blanket that is. Damian allowed his heart to beat faster and his eyes to water.

"I love you too.."

The new couple stayed together in silence holding each other for quite a while

"you know my bags are, packed.. Don't we have a private jet?"

Damian softly laughs "sounds ambitious.. I knew I loved you"

#batfamily #damian wayne #older! damian x reader #batman #batfam #angst #Leaving #Goodbyes #Love confession #batfamily x reader #Batfamily x Batsis! Reader #Batsis! Reader #Fluff #Supportive family #A Kind Gesture 1 & 2

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