#Damiane girl why u so cat

[suppernerd]

Some self indulgent genderswap batfam doodles 🦇🐥🐥🐥🐥

Been seeing a lot of this atm and thought I’d do my own take ^^

[igotanidea]

that damn gala: Jason todd x fem!reader

the graphic is not mine, found it on Pinterest, all credit goes to the author.

Summary: credit for the idea goes to @p4inis: Can someone write a fanfic of “wear whatever u want, I know how to fight” Jason x fem reader???? Like they’re going to a gala and reader can’t choose which dress she should wear and Jay is her biggest hype man.

hope you'll like it: )

A/N: this is part of my Cheshire!reader!verse. You can find another story of it here in the post: Cheshire cat. And there will be more coming for sure since I'm having a lot of fun writing this verse.

Warning: cursing, a bit of sexual innuendo, but nothing explicit, Jason being a warning of himself :D

„Please, remind me why did I even agree to this?”

“Because you truly had no other option?”

“I hate you.”

“We both know you don’t.”

“Really? Do we?” Y/N smirked. Dick Grayson was her longtime friend and it gave her one privilege no one else had. She was resistant to him charm. So when he asked her to come over the annual Wayne gala it took a lot more than a pretty please and a nice smile to actually convince her to do so. Unlike many girls, she hated having to get all dressed up, putting on make-up and heels and acting like someone different than she really was only to win over some potential investors. Honestly, for a long time she couldn’t understand why was it her business. That lasted until Bruce offered her a job, an old RD position of her late father. Of course, the numbers were tempting but the thing was finally made her say yes was the opportunity to work with the latest technology and to put her ideas into work. And use them on patrols later on. So she gave in.

And soon one thing led to another, when she was forced to get involved into those stupid galas. Dick hated them equally as much, but at least he would be accompanied by Babs and they definitely would keep each other entertained. Unlike her friends, Y/N was going to be there by herself since for obvious reasons her beloved anti-hero boyfriend could not attend. So, she would either join Tim in deep conversation concerning Wayne Enterprises, sulk in the corner with Damian scaring people away with only look or spend the night getting drunk from all the expensive alcohol. One way or another it was going to be a loooong night.

“Yeah, we do. Come on Y/N, please, I’m gonna need your help you know it.”

“My help? Dick you are making zero sense. You will have your girl to dance with, Tim to take the duties and Damian for a security system. Why do you need me?”

“Because out of everyone you just mentioned, you are the only person that is actually fun.”

“Should I tell Babs about what you just said?” the girl laughed and heard Dick do the same on the other side of the phone.

“Please don’t” he turned deadly serious a second later “but you know what I mean. We both have known every guest for years now. We know their behavior, their bad traits and can predict who, when and how will make a fool of themselves. We have our inside jokes. Come on, please…..”

“Fine, stop whining, it’s out of character. I’ll come…..

“I knew you will give in at some point.”

“shut up, Grayson. I’m not giving in. Firstly because you will owe me and you know I’m not lenient when someone is in debt with me. Secondly, Jay will not like it, so good luck with having to deal with him. And lastly, I still got my cat claws on, so don’t expect me to be an egg-sucker.”

“As for the debts, that something we’ve been back and forth with for years now, so nothing new. I can deal with my brother, and Tim will deal with toadying, he’s used to it after all.”

“I hate you, Dick.”

“I know Y/n. See you at 9. You need me to pick you? Since you are coming alone?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Cheshire will swing by earlier and change in the manor if that’s fine.”

“I’ll leave the window open. See you, Y/n.”

“See you, Dick.”

She disconnected the phone and rubbed her forehead in frustration. She really though she would get away this year, but she’s been keeping this foolish hope for the last five years, always with no desired result. She always came and frankly it was never even half as bad as she expected, not that Y/N would ever say it out loud. But now, she had to choose a dress to go in and that was the hard part.

***

“Please, tell me you’re not preparing for the gala.” Jason stood in the door, only half-dressed In his gear, watching his girlfriend hurrying-scurrying in front of her wardrobe wearing only a sport bra and a pair of leggings.

“I am…” she groaned

“Was it Grayson? Did he force you? Do you want me to talk to him?” he took a few steps closer and grabbed her hands calming her down a bit.

“Nah. It’s fine. It’s always like this. He said I should come, I object, he uses his last-year arguments and I pretend to fall for them. It’s kind of tradition now. I would hate to break it.” She shrugged

“Maybe I can make knew tradition of making Dick attend the party with a bruise or…..”

“Stop it, Jay!” Y/N punched his shoulder and he grinned “if I really didn’t want to come, believe me I wouldn’t. But it really is entertaining making quiet jokes about all those bigwigs with excessive self-esteem and watching Tim trying his best to not speak his mind. The only thing that sucks about it is that I have to go alone” she moved her hands up his arms to his neck, pulling him in and he immediately grabbed her waist and leaned his forehead on hers, swaying from side to side.

“We can have our little party here. Or you can come with me to the patrol.” He whispered

“Mhm, don’t try to play me. That offer is a trap on your side, Red Hood only works alone. If you don’t count two teammates. And he does not want or need anyone else. Let alone little troublesome vigilante that also works with the bats.”

“That little vigilante cat knows her ways around words. She can play two sides, doesn’t she?”

“Jay, come on. You will never let me go with you and I will never ask. Too much of a risk and distraction. But I’m up for that party for two idea later on….”

“Do you have anything specific in mind?” he whispered seductively and leaned in to kiss her, but she quickly pulled away.

“Maybe. Maybe not. That depends if someone will take me home after the gala tonight. I mean, I have a couple dresses to choose from and I could use man’s advice on what to wear. Even if I absolutely hate the idea of playing the bait for man’s money. And I hate getting dolled up. I’ll be much more comfortable with tee and sweatpants or my suit. But I don’t have much opportunities to look nice, so…..” she pecked Jason lips quickly and moved towards the open wardrobe “what do you think, boyfriend?”

“Babe” every word she just said stung him. He knew she would never betray or cheat on him, but the thought of all those creeps staring at her and getting dirty ideas made him want to tie her to bed and keep her in the sheets with him, reminding her who’s the one to always keep her high and satisfied. But they all had duties to take care of. So he settled on embracing her from behind and kissing her neck softly “you know you can wear whatever you want. You will look hotter than hell. And I know how to fight if anyone would like to steal you away.”

“Babs is the resident beauty not me. If anything Dick should be scared. I’m only …. Addition.”

“Addition?” Jay kissed her neck again hitting her soft spot and making her gasp “you’re the crown jewel, babe. I wish I could go with you and watch everyone getting so jealous of me having you all to myself….” his lips on her skin was sending goosebumps all over her body.

“Jace….” She whispered closing her eyes

“Yes, sweetheart?” his grip was now tighter and she loved it and hate it at the same time.

“Let go of me. Now. Cause if you don’t neither me nor you will leave this apartment tonight.”

“Would it be so bad?” he muttered against her shoulder blade but reluctantly released her. “you should wear the black and red one. You will break necks in it.”

“Bet it has nothing to do with the fact some particular vigilante got those colors as a signature.”

“Vigilante? Who? I don’t really recall anyone choosing that palette.” He smirked with the boyish grin and she could not stop herself from kissing him again.

***  It was 8 when they both left the apartment, using different exits and wishing each other good luck. No hugs and kisses since that would only make them waver once again. Red Hood was on patrol while Cheshire made her way towards Wayne Manor making sure no one was following her. Being truthful to his words, Dick left the window open and without any trouble she found herself in his room, where much to her surprise she found Babs getting ready.

“Hey there, girl.” She smiled removing her domino mask and meeting with red-head wide and sincere smile “what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, kitten. Is my boyfriend cheating on me?”

“Oh, you caught me! I only came here to tell him our little affair was over since I cannot do this to my best friend.” Y/N put her hand on her heart ��And arguably because my boyfriend was after him to hurt him, but that’s on the side.”

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Barbara smiled again and came to hug the other girl “dick told me you were going to get ready here so I thought we might as well help each other in preparation.”

“Oh, thank god for your foresight. I have no idea how to drape this freaking dress to avoid putting my whole chest on display.

“I had my suspicions about that.”

“And I am absolutely hopeless with makeup and hairdo, so yes, please and thank you for any help you can give me.”

“Don’t worry, my friend. I will make you look perfect.”

***

Barbara really was a magician with women stuff. Only because of her skillful hands and endless ideas Y/N was now looking like a real lady, classy and gentle, even if most of the times she was just a girl next door. Her dress fit her perfectly and any risk of showing too much was eliminated by cleverly used veil, draped on girl’s shoulder. Her make-up was almost invisible since Y/N had pretty skin (luckily she got no bruises or cuts for the last week so there was no problem with that) and she refused using anything more than some concealer, liner and mascara sticking to the minimum. Unlike Babs she ditched the lipstick not wanting to look like Joker after having one drink and leaving stains on the glass and all over. But still, she felt odd, especially standing next to Babs with her perfect figure and proud posture. Cheshire was used to skin tight suit that was supposed to protect her and enable all the kicks and punches, but this? Evening gown that accented all her hated curves and imperfections  made her feel exposed, not protected. And this was another tradition that was happening every single year even though after all this time she should already be used to it.

“good evening, ladies.” Dick emerged from behind and offered an arm to Barbara “Babs, Y/N.”

“Richard.” Babs smiled at her boyfriend

“Hello Grayson” Y/N smirked only to cover for her insecurity. In a second she would be left all alone like a prey while Dick and Babs will make rounds together.

“You look nervous kitten” Dick pointed out and Y/N scoffed

“Nervous? Of course I am. I’m nervous for the safety of everyone here. You know I got…..”

“claws, I know. And that is exactly why I took care of things.”

“I’m sorry you did what?” she nearly choked because of his words.

“There’s this one guy, really big fish in IT industry. We are trying to get him to share some ideas with WE. And since you are in a warlike mood, you will talk to him. Besides, you are the only one here that actually knows enough about the technology to cover the subject so…..”

“Are you insane?!” she yelled-whispered “did you even hear a word I told you about attending this gala. I wanted out of the radar not being put on the spotlight! What happened to…..” she paused when an elderly couple passed through and smiled charmingly “what happened to the inside jokes and making fun of people?!”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but it’s like I said. You’re the only one knowledgeable enough to succeed. Just this one guy, please, and then you are off the hook.”

“Where is Tim when you need him?” she hissed and reached for the nearest glass of champagne “I don’t think I can do it sober.”

“I will owe you twice” Dick pleaded

“That is tempting…..”

***

The guy assigned to Y/N was hot. Tall, dark haired and well-build, with perfect nose, lips and all face. His eyes glistened when he saw her approaching and in a real gentleman manner he turned towards the girl.

“You must be miss Y/N Y/L/N?” of course his smile was perfect as well and Y/N was almost blinded by the whiteness of his teeth

“I am” she smiled through gritted teeth “I suppose you’re the tech genius Mr. Blake?”

“ Please, call me Desmond. It would be so much easier to cut the distance this way”

“I see you are very direct Desmond. Does that match in the workplace?” he might have been a predator but she was the one who hold power over words, not the other way round.

“We are not in workplace, are we?”

“But we are supposed to discuss some RD matters.”

“Who said we can’t have a little fun while at it? This is a party after all.”

“High-class party, Mr. Blake and as a CEO you surely understand that.”

“Of course, I had nothing wrong on my mind. Tell me, miss Y/N, do you dance?”

“Only when I’m forced to” she muttered making sure he couldn’t hear her while taking another discreet sip of champagne

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I do, although I am not very good at it.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right partner. Let me guide you” he offered his hand and lead Y/N onto the dancefloor.

This was going to be a looooong night, she thought while noticing Dick and Babs moving to the music on her left. Dick put his thumb up while Barbara only smiled. This was already a torture. Hopefully, things were going better for Jay.

***

Two hours and three drinks later Desmond seemed a bit nicer than at the beginning. Y/N was not drunk, she was used to keep her senses alerted all the time so she poured away all the alcohol Desmond so wholeheartedly kept on bringing. He did not and that’s why they were now sitting on the secluded couch, far from the crowd, the man babbling about how pretty she looked and how much of his type she was.

“I think you had enough Mr. Blake” she put a hand on his when he reached towards another glass. Apparently that was a mistake since he turned her gaze towards her, his eyes widening.

“Tell me Y/N, why is a girl like you alone at the party? I mean, you are hot.” Oh, fuck. She knew where he was going now. “and everyone here is just ogling you, me included.” Fuck square since he moved closer, almost grabbing her hip.

“ You’re drunk” she said standing up “I think you should sober up. Alone.”

“Don’t you dare turning your back on me, you little bitch. Who do you think you are?”

If only he knew…..

“A woman who knows better than to argue with you. You work for your own reputation Mr. Blake and let me tell you, you are only embarrassing yourself right now. Maybe you should stop before some reporter takes a picture of you stumbling.”

“You think you are so high and mighty, huh? A strong, independent woman, working for Wayne? Acting like a whore to get some attention and you can’t even get a boyfriend?”

“Careful with words, now” she warned slowly turning into Cheshire

“Or what? What exactly will you do, huh? Cause I don’t think you will do a thing…..” he lunged forward and before she could react had her pressed onto the wall, his lips on hers “you are only good for one night stand. And you ask for it, wearing that dress, you little bitch. You only deserved to be fucked and forgotten.’ He was using the fact no one could see them in this place

“Get the fuck off me!!!” she yelled all her instincts kicking in when she pushed the man away and he stumbled back. Unfortunately, while doing so, he stepped onto the hem of her dress tearing it apart and leaving Y/N legs almost completely exposed. “Damn it.” She muttered turning red while the man started laughing like crazy which finally caught some attention and Dick immediately came running for rescue.

“What is going on here?”

“Your little wanton friend is finally dressed the way she should be from the beginning.” Blake snorted

“Mr Blake, I think you should leave….” Tim rushed from the other side of the ballroom scared that either his brother or his friend would kick the man’s ass and made even more of a scene. This was going to be a PR nightmare.

“Leave? Oh, no, no, no. Not before I have a little fun with your little rag doll, here.”

“Let me though.” Another voice interrupted the discussion and Y/N, Dick and Tim turned their gazes towards the side where it came from.

“You’ve got to be kidding me….” Dick whined

“Oh, hell no!” Tim screamed

“What the…..?” y/N said in surprise

“What. The fuck. You think. You are doing?”

“Jason…..” dick tried to step between his brother and Blake before it came to fisticuffs. All of a sudden the latter became much more sober than a second before.

“Get out of my way, Dickhead. This scumbag just humiliated my girlfriend. I will not let him get away with it.”

“I’m sorry but…..”

“You are not sorry.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry and I can’t let you through. We are trying our best to avoid bloodbath here.”

“I don’t fucking care! He asked for it.”

“Jason.”

“Back off, replacement!”

“Jason.”

Only now he stopped in his tracks. Because of her voice. Her soft, calm voice. All this time she was standing there silently watching the scene, her dress torn apart , hair messy due to the scuffle, being her calm, collected self. Fuck, she was so beautiful, somewhere deep inside he could not blame this man for wanting her. Who wouldn’t wish for this beauty to be in his arms. But she was his and only his. Only he was allowed to hold her and kiss her and love her. No one fucking else. And this one here, were not only trying to force himself on her, but also called her a bitch and a whore. And that was something Jason Todd could not let go easily.

“Jason, please, let’s just go home.” She said calmly “come on, baby. Nothing happened, all right? He’s not worth your anger. He’s just sad, pathetic man with a lot of problems, apparently. I’m safe.”

“Baby��� Jason came closer to her sneaking his arms around her pulling her close “he needs to be punished. He offended you. Let me  take care of that…..”

“Nope. Not this time. Besides, as much as I appreciate your effort, I can take care of myself and this one is just beyond are level. So why bother when we can go home and have that little party for two you mentioned earlier?” she caressed his side softly looking straight into his eyes and he was slowly melting.

“See? I told she is a whore! You better watch out for her, she will cheat on you with the first man…..” Blake did not get to finish the sentence when Dick and Jason grabbed each of his arm and dragged him out the door.

“This will hit all the headlines tomorrow morning….” Tim stammered out, his face as white as a ghost

“You can just buyout all the press companies in Gotham” Y/N said, equally white, but not because of the press.

“Are you kidding me now Y/N?!”

“Come on, Tim. Not the first PR drama for WE. We can turn this around. If not as Y/N and Tim then as Cheshire and Red Robin. We’ve done this before, all right?”

“Fine.” He huffed “One problem at the time. Now, are you all right? He did not hurt you, did he?”

“He could never. I’m better and stronger than it seems in this dress, or rather half-dress now.”

“Good. Otherwise I would have to stand against my own rules and help dick and Jason beat the man.”

“Speaking of the devils, this is taking them too long. Do you think maybe we should check out what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. The boys are making sure Blake would never come around again. And from what I can predict his company will go down soon.” Barbara chimed in

“If that’s coming from the Oracle, who are we to argue?”

“By the way, where is Damian? He was supposed to act like security. How the hell did Jason sneak in? Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather dance with my boyfriend than see him fight again ….”

“I was not the security! I never wanted to be here in the first place! I was forced!”

“Who wasn’t?” Tim scoffed

“You’re good Y/N/N?” Damian asked turning towards the girl

“Yes! God! I’m fine, please stop asking me that. I’m just a bit ….. tired.”

“You can stay at the manor than. There is always a place for you.”

“Thanks Dami, but…..”

“She is not going to stay. I’m taking her home.” Jason came into the view again, his nose bleeding.

“What did you do Jace?”

"I told you I know how to fight for you."

���Where is Dick?” Barbara became alerted and both girls exchanged looks

“I’m here. I’m fine. It’s all taken care off.” The oldest Wayne was clutching his bleeding nose as well.

“Did you two have a fight? How unsurprising…..”

"Wait, you beat each other instead of that fucking Blake?" Damian frowned "Can I do it then? I need some action, this party is boring like hell."

"He's been taken care of as well. Probably won't come around ever again" Jason stated proudly.

"What did you do him? Can you descibe in details?" the youngest brother suddenly became much more energetic and interested.

“I’m out, I’m done” Tim turned around throwing his hands in the air “you are all on your own now. I;ve got to do some damage control. See you tomorrow, Y/N. Remember your promise.” He left and so did Damian leaving Jason, y/n, Babs and Dick alone.

“Why did you beat him Jace?”

“He was supposed to watch out for you!”

“I said I’m fine!”

“But who knows what could have happened?!”

“could have, would have, should have….. How about we stop with the possibilities that never came to life, hm? How about you calm down, Jace?”

“How can I calm down?! You could have been hurt!”

“Dick? Babs? I’m so terribly sorry for everything that just happened.” Y/N decided to stop paying attention to Jason for a while.

“As much as I hate to say it, it might have been a bit of my fault.” Dick admitted

“a bit?!”

“Shut up Jason. I’m not talking to you now!” Y/N hissed and he just stood there with open mouth but did not dare saying a word. “I think we should call it a night, do you agree, Babs. We can’t let boys kill each other, right? Someone has to be smart.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We can’t ever rely on them with life choices, can we?”

“Nope. But I guess that’s the Wayne charm. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure y/n. I’ll let you know if dick’s coming after Jay to take revenge for the beating.”

“Ok. I’ll let you know if Jace is coming after Dick to avenge my honor” Y/N laughed and waved Babs and Dick goodbye before turning to Jason. “As for you….”

“Look, I did not mean to make a scene…..”

“Jay….”

“I saw you in danger and acted without thinking…..”

“Jason….”

“You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you…..”

“Oh for god’s sake!” she moved forward and cut his babbling with a passionate kiss taking him by surprise and leaving a few spare seconds for his brain to react and started kissing her back, his hands travelling up her sides. “I love you, you idiot. And I’m not mad at you, really. That was kind of…. Hot.”

“Only kind of?” he smirked

“Yes, because you still think I cannot take care of myself. You really don’t have to put  the guns out every time you think I’m in danger. Especially when I’m not.”

“but you still like me in my vigilante mode, don’t you?”

 “I never said it.” She scoffed

“Sometimes, words are not needed. I can settle on sounds.” He smirked and she smacked his head becoming red.

“Why are you even here? What about patrol? What about….red’s matters?”

“It’s a quiet night. I was patrolling nearby by accident….

“by accident?” she raised an eyebrow

“And thought I would swing by. And you know the rest.”

‘You are a child, Jason. A big child. And we definitely have a lot to work on in that area. Are you going back on patrol?”

“I wasn’t planning on, but…..”

“Good. Cause you know, I might be a bit turned on and need someone to take care of that. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Let’s go upstairs.” He picked her up and carried her the stairs to his old room, bridal style.

“Wait, here?!” she squealed when he threw her onto the bed and climbed up hovering over her body.

“Do you think I can wait? Honey, I need you right now.” He pressed his lips onto her, delighting in the way she melted into him and started letting out those sweets sounds. “now we can start our party” he smirked moving down her body, removing the straps of her dress and taking care of each square centimeter of her body.

“Jason….” she moaned arching her back “come on, don’t tease…..”

“I’m taking my time with you, babe. You will have to deal with it….”

@pinksirensong @somest1 - let me know if anyone wants a tag in any of my stories

[foundfam2754]

S17e5 live reactions!

Spoilers…obviously

- yeah Elias don’t murder anyone if you wanna be an informant

- lol he has a whole receiving parade

- oh my fucking god Elias is messing w our papa pasta :(

- oh I just realised it has been ages since he’s actually spoken to him not in his mind - you got this bud ❤️

- car sex is just not it man

- OH DEBBY RYAN LOOKALIKE AND DAMIAN I see

- the girl reminds me of cat adams - revenge murder and maybe the most brutal bc of so much hurt in the past - in fact this whole thing gives me dirty dozen vibes

- “you’ve been taking to to yourself” “I’ve been talking to myself for years” idk why that made me laugh hard

- AM I ONLY THE ONE WHO SEES THE SPENCER REID PLAQUE COMING UP A LOT??? Pls let mgg come back oh my god

- hehe garvez is standing together 🥰

- protective luke 🥹

- “no!” “Everyone’s a comedian” HAHAHA

-“hands-off asshole” yeah give me more protective lukey pleaseeeee; also gives vibes of ‘don’t touch my girls stuff asshole’ which I LOVE

- “what’s up with you two…cause there’s a vibe” OH MY FUCKING GOD PENELOPE EVEN SICARIUS SEES IT. OPEN YOUR EYES AND LET HIM LOVE YOU

- couples who bully sicarius about his hygiene together stay together 🥺 🤝

- I kinda love how they’re filming this - they’re profiling together in the bull pen and workshopping - Elias has a weird chemistry w them

- lol pen with the handkerchief

- DONT TOUCH HER

- this is too easy; I’m so suspicious: I feel like he’s gonna do the same with Bailey - say something code-wordy to hint to him

- also why does it feel like Elias is being too helpful? like I think maybe he’s so invested bc 1) he gets to mess with Dave by being part of his team 2) Damian is a loose end and has some evidence to tie him to sicarius offficially

- I TOLD U HE WAS GONNA CODE WORD IT. I KNEW THE TIPPY TAP MEANT SOMETHING

- I love smart strategic confident Em and she and Dave plotting to fuck Elias over together

- is he finally gonna shower??

- “dave” like they’re besties

- LOVE THIS SHOT

- EW THEY HAD VOIT SAY OUR PRECIOUS PHRASE - but okay no that was so impactful

- oh my god he’s fucking with them so hard oh my god

- JJ SAID FUCK!!

- OH MY GODDDDDDD they’re talking about jealous Luke they’re talking about Penelope and Tyler they’re SAYING IT OUTRIGHT I CANT TALK I CANT TYPE I AM SCREAMING I LITERALLY GOT OFF MY COUCH AND JUMPED ACROSS MY APT

- ew tynelope is so gross greencia is so much better

- Luke you didn’t say nooo?! we all know it drives you crazy agent alvez

- so chaotic Elias is so funny man; kudos to Zach Gilford

- PAPA PASTA PROTECTING HIS FAMILY. You mess with Pen, Rossi brings the heat

- isn’t “locking you in a shipping container” a confession?? why are they not more interested in that?

- oh my god Brian’s gaslighting her - falling into the conspiracy thing again - everyone’s vulnerable and only hearing what they want too

- haha lukey doing yoga

- oh my god how do they do anything without Penelope

- hey kiddos - voit is leaving?? Pls pay attention to him

- is Rossi gonna let him run??

- oh my god they’re profiling each other

- OH MY GOD DAMIAN. I KNEW ELIAS WAS GONNA CODE WORD IT.

- “Teresa is in trouble”!??

- TYLER I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU KEEP MORE SECRETS

- oh my god the sicarius smile

- aw tebecca!

- EM :(( be vulnerable babe we’re here for you

OH MY GOD THIS EP WAS SO GOOD

[uncouth-the-fifth]

cheat day - Damian Wayne/Reader/Jon Kent

Pairing: Damian / Catgirl!Reader / Jon

Tags/Warnings: aged up characters, thr*esome, deepthr*oting, face f*ck, oral (m & f receiving), vaginal s*x, double p*netration, sky s*x, Damian/Jon.

Word Count: 12,106

Notes:  This has been a fantasy of mine forEVER, so in a tiny way of celebrating Jon's Supermanhood (puns puns puns), I'm sharing it with u. I totally break the laws of dick and throat physics here, but fiction exists for a reason 🥴

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe it when Jon had given in with a big sigh, when Damian loaded you into his (Robin-branded) submarine, and when the underwater murk of the Metropolis bay seperated to reveal the Fortress of Attitude. Jon and Damian's secret mancave that you'd been hearing about for years now. No matter how much you'd threatened or begged, Jon and Damian always refused to give you a tour of their little club house. With the way they'd been talking about it, you expected a no girls allowed sign plastered on the door of the loading bay.

In the passenger's seat, the view had stunned you into silence. Damian piloted the sub into the air lock chamber and activated the draining system, which reminded you of the rainbow soap in a good car wash. He might have enjoyed it more if it didn't force you to cozy up in the sub together. He'd scowled the entire ride, clearly displeased that Jon had invited you without consulting him.

Okay. Maybe it was more about you being Catgirl than it was about the Fortress. But you'd spent months now reforming with the Super Sons, so this was probably, at least in Damian's mind, a final test of your trustworthiness. In yours, it was a gold mine of hot superhero guys to toy with.

You'd cut out the stealing. You'd been a good girl, using your skills only for Batman's war on crime. Selina had even said she was proud of you. So, to balance out all that good, you were allowed one teeny-tiny, totally inconsequential, naughty act. As a treat.

This, well. This was a whole dessert.

Robin you'd been pissing off since you were both in diapers, chasing each other in circles like a cat with it's tail. He'd gone from a little asshole who'd stab you given the chance, to a slightly bigger asshole who just boredly begged you to put the diamonds down, Catgirl, and finally to this. Damian. Your favorite toy, only because he knew he was one and pretended to hate it. He was one of the handsomest guys you'd ever set eyes on. Robin was built like a brick shithouse, stacked with abs you could scrub laundry on, pecs you could bounce a quarter off of, and a face that constantly seemed to be thinking about tearing your panties off. Or throwing cuffs on you to drag you to Blackgate. Either one. When he wasn't brooding holes in the floor, Damian was one of those boys that was secretly all sweetness and sugar, treating you special and only you.

-

Robin slammed you against the brick wall, chest heaving for breath against your back. "Caught," he panted, "you."

You'd make this last chase hard for him. Ever since you'd learned Damian's secret identity, you made careful attempts to insert yourself into his civilian life. Of course, Damian took this as some kind of hostile takeover in which you planned to blackmail him, but really all you wanted was to spend some time with Damian instead of Robin. (And okay, you were totally tailing him, but it wasn't like the creep hadn't done the same to you). Robin was dangerous and mouthy and hot. Damian had seemed to be, from your angle watching him leave his university's chess club meeting, a cute, collected college student who thought he was smarter than you. He wasn't. That was why plain-clothes Damian thought he was chasing you, when in reality, you were leading him exactly where you wanted.

"Or maybe," you pushed up on your tip-toes so your butt was completely buried in his lap, head lolled back into his shoulder, "I've caught you."

Damian didn't go tense. He was too used to your flings to tense up at new touching, but he did give a heavy sigh.

A cool nose pressed against the crook of your neck. "If you missed me, all you had to do was call."

"Call what?" You scoffed, turning against the wall to face him, and mourned how Damian's hands moved to brace against the brick instead of your body, "the bat-phone?"

Damian made a hmmph sound. Up close, the space between your bodies non-existent, he seemed softer, more touchable. This part of Robin seemed more likely to kiss you all over instead of fuck you senseless. "Fair point. I'll give you my number, if that's what you're being so coy about. But I have a condition."

"Hmm," you tapped your chin. Robin's eyes, Damian's eyes, watched the movement too closely. "Maybe. What do you have in mind?"

Looming over you, Damian glanced over his shoulder to see if you were alone on the university's rooftop, then tenderly wrapped you up in his embrace. The routine is familiar to you. Damian checks that you're alone. Damian checks a second time, mask dropping. Then he lets loose all that heavy armor so only his gooey center remains, loving and kissable. First, his large, calloused hands lifted yours and kissed them once each. He drew them over his shoulders like you were a high school couple at a dance. It was cute enough to entertain, so you folded your hands over the back of his neck and took in his next kindnessess. Damian then squeezed you against him, warm cheek to warm cheek, in a full bodied hug.

"Just this," Damian murmurs. His tone is soft and perhaps a bit croaky, all on top of the smooth, sexy voice that could entice anyone to bed. "I... missed you too."

"Really?" You let your smug satisfaction pour from your words, "Just a good, long hug? That's all you want in exchange for me being in your civilian life?"

Damian's right hand, his bowing hand for his violin, flushed tight to your body and moved up it, back to hips to ribs, so he could turn your chin up and angle your lips in line with his. A spark jumped off the hazy moss green of his eyes, which turned crystalline in the sunset. Green steam off a rainforest blown into amber dusk. He had longer lashes than most models did, and his eyes were unfairly, beautifully sharp and feminine. In some ways he reminded you of a nature spirit, with preserved youthful beauty and ancient depth. Like a desert in the shape of a man.

An incredibly sexy man.

"Obviously I want to get my cock up that cute little skirt you're wearing as well," Damian said, darkly, pressing his thumb into your lip. "I just preferred to prepare you first. What kind of fling would I be if I wasn't romantic?"

"Average," you answered.

(No matter how many times he made that jump between flirting with you then openly planning to fuck you, you still had to keep a squeak from slipping from your mouth.)

"Precisely," Damian scoffed. He took you by the hips and whirled your around, immediately shunting up your skirt so it bunched around your belly, "And when have I ever been anything less than above-average, Catgirl?"

His belt buckle rattles. After all this time, the sound still shocks pleasure straight into your core. You press closer to the wall and scold yourself. Without one word of command you've turned around, planted your hands on the wall, and spread your legs, just for Damian to see.

"Never," you gasp.

And he does a lot more than just look. Damian hooks his finger into your underwear and drops it around your ankles, taking generous handfuls of your thighs and ass as he does. If there's flesh to squeeze or stroke, he does both. Damian's hand eventually traces your aching core. He considers his options as his warm fingers wet themselves with your slick, sucking them clean with a wet slurping sound. Damian hums, like he's just decided how hard he's going to fuck you.

"Condom?" He asks.

"Pill," you reply.

Damian chuckles, low in his throat and dirty. You feel his hands brace against the brick above you, sculpted chest forcing your top half flat to the wall, and then his warm cockhead brushes your pussy. He's brutal with it. He taps himself to your clit until you gasp, he soaks himself on your slick until you pant for breath. You couldn't push back into him if you tried, too, with how strong Damian is. The hands knuckling the brick overhead slip down to pin your own, contorting you flat to the wall so you can take his dick best.

"Good girl," Damian praises, and then he slams all the way in.

You can't speak. Your breath is compressed out of you in one long blow. Your body seizes, your words catch in your throat, your pussy immediately clenches down upon the intrusion, wrapping you around Damian's massive, girthy cock. He doesn't piston or buck his hips, because even that is too slow a pace for Damian. You're piped so good and so relentlessly that you can't even get enough breath to moan. That's how you know this is for you instead of Damian. Had this been for Damian, there would be candles and mood lighting and far more kissing. But he knows you, and he loves you, so Damian snaps your hands behind your back and fucks you, railing you in a blur of speed the Flash would envy.

He stops. It's brief, but it's like being bathed in a sea of hot pleasure only to be ripped out into the cold air, exposed. Damian drops his lips onto your shoulder, then lathers his hands down your body. He appreciatively squeezes your breasts, feels along your ribs, then secures your hips in place to fuck you more solidly. Then he does.

It's wet. That's the first word that comes to mind, when your brain manages to churn out a thought in the first place. There's no thinking, no internal monologue. Your mind isn't necessarily blank. But any moment spent away from this one comes at the grave cost of missing how Damian destroys you, so you prefer to soak in your nerves and his touch instead of your mind. Juices spill between your bodies: Damian's thighs viciously snap against your sensitive, aching ass, and his cock plunges through your slick with the most obscene noises you can imagine. You could tell the sex was good based on the noises alone. Every throb of Damian's cock thrummed through your entire lower half, doubling the pleasure. Fierce hands pin your hips in place. Even with Damian's cock drilling you through the wall, his grip is so strong that you couldn't move even if you wanted too. The pleasure is even better than you'd remembered or imagined. It takes all of your effort not to cum on the spot so this moment can last, but it doesn't matter—Damian would keep fucking you anyway.

You're ravaged. Everything about Damian is physical, but this especially, claiming you with his hands and his manhood, biting your flesh, licking hickeys into your neck. Your feet are barely touching the ground because Damian is so brutally deep, keeping you squished between his broad chest and the brick. With every roll of his hips you're plastered tighter to the wall, legs spreader further and further apart. It's the ultimate, sluttiest fantasy: the hot guy you've been crushing on for years now throws you against the wall, rips off your underwear and just wails on you. Damian's not just any hot guy, either: he does you as he does all things, to excel. If sex was a skill you could critique and study as closely as art or music, Damian's technique was perfect. He knew exactly what you wanted, how you wanted it, and how to give it well. He alternates between surging inside you fast enough to make thunder, to slowly filling you in inch by massaging inch. When your squeals get raspy, one of Damian's arms cinches around your middle. His smooth, long-fingered hand cups your belly as it decends, only to seperate your folds with two thick digits and jerk them against your pulsing clit.

"Damian!" You mewl. He has you mewling, now.

"Enjoying yourself, Catgirl?" Damian growls, voice grinding against the harsh end of his throat. His smile bleeds smugness into your ear, "Fuck, you are so tight."

"You're so big," you moan a laugh into his mouth. Damian sears his lips to yours from over your shoulder, but it's not good enough for him.

You're moved sideways. Damian takes one of your legs and hooks it onto his bicep so he can squeeze his cockhead between your legs from the side, really testing your Catgirl flexibility, but it's less for the change in angle and more so Damian can kiss you. Kiss is an understatement, though. He claims your mouth with his, rooting your lips together and dragging his tongue against your own, doing all of this while moaning into your mouth like it was you fucking him. Damian's wet tongue tasted like black coffee, dominating your kiss with ease. And of course, because he's perfect, Damian's cock persists inside your pussy with the same passion as the kiss, stealing every ounce of your senses for himself. When his broad hand splays across your belly and his finger return to flawlessly stroking your clit, you lose it.

He's smirking. The fucker is smirking. Damian is fucking you senseless, kissing you senseless, fingering you senseless, and smirking. His cock is buried in your pulsing cunt to the hilt just as the wire in you snaps, and Damian smirks against your moaning lips, knowing just how good he is. Just how much you love it.

Your twitching hips are filled by Damian's seed. It was easier to tell how much he came when he did it across your face or even down your throat, but you knew it would be a massive load. Damian kept on smirking as he stuffed you with cum, revelling in the ecstacy flushed all over your face. His grip on your thigh is white-knuckle close, so you could feel his abs tense against your clit, cock pulsating back and forth with your pussy.

Damian sorts you. He pulls out, rights his slacks, then dips onto his knees to help you back into your panties. You're so dizzy with bliss that Damian has to do most of the work, but you'd done the same for him plenty of times. This time, though, was for your pleasure, so Damian pulls your skirt back in place, then licks your juices off of his fingers all for your viewing bliss. His plump lips flush just right around his fingers, and his handsome jawline catches the fading sun like his skin was made of gold.

Then, he was back to business as usual. Damian plucked up your phone, put his number into it (how had he known your code?), and left you with a sweet kiss when he replaced it in your jacket pocket.

"I had a lovely time, Catgirl," he whispers into your ear, "call me?"

"S-sure," you said.

He disappears as soon as you blink.

You sigh, grin to yourself, and let a shiver of pure pleasure roll up your body at the thought of him. His cum pours into your underwear in hot, salty globs. Your hips are as marked and appreciated as your neck is. You're left there seeing white, and when you finally start to make sense of your surroundings, even then your vision spirals with stars.

Damn him. Damn Damian Wayne.

-

Jon wasn't as different from Damian as people thought. After a pretty intense job, Selina had moved the two of you out to Metropolis to lay low. That hadn't lasted very long. Superboy was a total pain in the ass because, not only did he never yield when it came to you sneaking away with your plunder, but he made you feel guilty. He'd sit you down while you waited for the cops to show up, lecturing you about stealing like the curb outside the lab he'd caught you in was a school office, and he the principal. Superboy would do this every single time. On the third or fourth, it was kind of... hot. His round, masculine face would take on this stern look that always made you press your thighs together. Flirting as a distraction was more Selina's thing, but you couldn't help yourself. Are you gonna spank me, Superboy? You'd smirk at him. I think I deserved to be punished. Will you punish me? Jon stopped falling for that by the time it was safe for you to return to Gotham. But you could tell that you'd hooked him. He patrolled with Damian twice as often, hoping to see you.

You couldn't blame Jon. If you had a taboo crush on a sexy, jewel-thieving criminal who'd taken your virginity in the most mind blowing way possible, you'd look for ways to see them again too.

-

You deserved some serious points for this. You deserved the best dessert you could imagine and the value of all your steals in cash, just because you'd done such a fantastic job.

Catwoman had told you to distract him.

Superboy's eyes were mostly hidden by the hand sunk against his cherry-red face. You were unsure if aliens sweat, but Jon was certainly shaking, head to toe and gut-deep. At any moment he would probably crumble onto his trembling knees and collapse on top of you, cumming his suit. The only thing keeping him upright was your hands steadied on his legs. Just watching you work made Jon yelp and gasp. Under his hand, you liked to imagine Superboy was biting his lip hard enough to break skin. You didn't blame him. You were good at blowjobs, but more importantly, you enjoyed them. It was the only job you did messily. Especially this one: as deep on Jon's cock as you could go, you guzzled him down, mouth slurping and squelching. When your lips smushed in a ring against Jon's naval, his cock made a satisfying guck noise in your throat. His eyes rolled up and shut so quickly he could have passed out. Taking that as a sign to let him breathe again, you locked your mouth around his girth and sucked back, adding to the bubbles and ropes of saliva attaching your chin to his thick dick.

Jon wailed, low and erotically. "O-oh my Rao."

Needless to say, you'd distracted Superboy.

Catwoman had definitely gotten away with the jewels by now, if she was as smart as you were when it was Selina's turn to distract Batman post-crime. You'd never understood the appeal of using your body as an asset before, but toying with Superboy had explained everything to you. There was nothing more fun than showing your tits to a gorgeous man too into his "moral hangups" to stare like he wanted to. It had taken longer than you'd liked to break Superboy, but that only meant the wait would be worth it. Tonight ended perfectly, having earned two prizes: Catwoman's jewels and Superboy's huge, handsome cock in your mouth.

"No one's ever... n-no one..." Superboy panted.

"Well, good thing you choose me to blow you first, huh?" You seductively tongued Jon's balls, sucking them into your mouth one or two at a time (if you could fit them). "Instead of some geeky farm girl with her braces still in, you get a professional."

"Someone who knows," you stroked his cockhead in the welcoming heat of your mouth and slurped back your spit so you could speak, "how to take care of you."

Jon watched his dick drag against your face, appreciating how it looked against your skintone a little too much. "W-wow..."

Taking in a big breath, you locked your lips around Jon's head and gulped him down, watching his face the entire time. He moaned like the amateur he was, constant and shakily. They poured out of him each time you moved, but that was probably because you made every movement count. You bobbed your head with so much enthusiasm it bubbled strings of spit down your front, you flicked your wrists in tandem, occasionally knocking them together as you worked Jon's dick, and your tongue caught the special spot under the ring of his head with every pass. Eventually there was so much spit between your mouth and Jon that it was spilling onto the concrete, so you moved yourself closer to let it pool into your costume.

Jon watched pre-cum and drool drizzle between your cleavage, pressed to the extreme by your tight catsuit, and instantly came in your mouth.

Now, you'd been planning to have sex with Superboy for a while. You'd contemplated what it would mean to do it with an alien, so you were ready for whatever odd sexual secret Kryptonians might have. Worst case scenario, Jon would have pinchers or something and you'd have a neat story to tell. You're glad it's superstrength and an insane amount of cum instead. Very glad.

By the time it's all over, your chest feels like an entire bottle of maple syrup has been squeezed onto it. In your mouth, Jon is as sweet as cake frosting, with the sticky consistency of warm honey. He doesn't have the saltiness that a human man would have. You can't help but eagerly take the stomach-full, gulping him down like he was the first milkshake you'd ever had, dizzying your head with pleasure.

Jon collapses back against the wall, but you keep swallowing, following him back so you press his pelvis into the building with your nose. His expression is the ultimate charicature of lust, rose red, jaw lax with pleasure, brows sewn together. While you're tonguing him clean you get the full view of his throat and jawline, defined by bold strokes that soften into square turns. Jon licks his lips and gasps. You can imagine that tongue buried inside you, stroking your clit at superspeed, driving you crazy, so you're more than disappointed when Superboy disappears.

The moment you lap up his last rope of cum on your tongue, Jon evaporates into a streak of red and blue.

You sit there in shock. Was he embarrassed? Had you done something wrong? Even then, you felt like Superboy was too much of a gentleman to just leave you—

"...Here," Jon materialises just behind you, offering you a handful of napkins and a pack of mints. His face is so red it seems to cast light, coloring his visage against Metropolis's gold midnight shadows. "I-I uh, picked them up from the store real quick cause' I didn't want you to feel gross. I know it's like super icky for girls when they do that, even though it's like awesome for guys—which I can vouch for cause it felt amazing, you were like so good—and I guess I want to say thank you?"

"That's subjective, Superboy."

"Huh?" Jon blanked.

"I said," you unzipped your costume slowly as you stood, rolling your hips from side to side, and smirked as you displayed your cum-soaked tits to him, "that's subjective. Not all people think it's gross."

He was trying hard not to stare at you, then when it occurred to him that he was allowed to, he devoured the sight of your naked skin. Superboy had a handsome gradient of blue in his eyes, one that took in your body like an untamed lion ready to eat.

Jon's brain seemed to leave. "...Think what's gross?"

You rolled your eyes, but that look was exactly what you'd been searching for. So he did have a rough side. It was agonizing, standing there ready for him and waiting, so you massaged up his chest with your palms and obscenely licked the shell of his ear, breasts pressed against him.

"Focus..." you husked at his moan, "Kiss me?"

"You've got..." Jon blushed, "oh, I guess that's kind of hot. I would love to!"

He was so sincere about it that your chest flushed with liking, and because of it your kiss became a little less of a bucket list thing and more a happy thing between two people. Jon was nervous, but no one in Metropolis could call him a coward. You smiled as Jon cupped your face, asked for permission to lift your goggles, which you allowed him—just this once—and kissed you. How you'd swallowed down most of his cum not a minute earlier made Jon apprehensive, but soon enough he was pecking you like you were his little princess, sweeping his arms around your middle and helping you out of your suit. No one had ever treated you like this during sex. Superboy only got braver as the kiss grew messier, and his sweetness grew too. You felt his fingers kiss your spine in circles. Jon parted his lips for a nervous gasp, and you didn't hesitate to soak his tongue with yours, kissing him deeper, faster, more dirtly. Between the pops of your lips, your fingers toyed with his hair in long strokes. Just kissing him made you want Superboy to tongue fuck you, to bruise your legs, to make earthquakes because he fucked you so hard. You told him this as you kissed, licking your way into his mouth and sizzling against his lips, please fuck me, punish me, tell me what a bad girl I've been. Pound me at superspeed until I can only feel how good you are.

Jon pulled away from the kiss. His tremendous blush made him harder to take seriously. "Alright. We can keep going. But you... you can't tell anybody."

You playfully raised your eyebrows. "What? Ashamed of me already, Superblow?"

"No," Jon said, honestly. His voice was a sweet rumble in his throat. You liked that about him; how genuine he was made him all the more fun to tease. Jon snorted, "I like you. You pretend you're one of the bad guys, but I know that you're not. Why would you be here if you were? That's why I don't want to tell anyone."

This made you pause. Dryly, you asked, "Because it'll let all the other criminals know that you'll cave for a blowjob?"

"...Because it will let the other criminals know that you're in with us," Jon rolled his eyes.

At this, you considered putting your clothes back on. You crossed your arms over your exposed breasts. "What do you mean, in with you?"

"I want to make a deal with you," Jon cooly said. It was the most confident you'd ever seen him. A cocky smirk twisted behind his messy hair, which paired well with the gentle hiss of his alien armor opening at the waist. (You supposed to had to come off somehow). "If you start patrolling with Robin and I on the weekends..." Jon's gaze danced through the air in thought, like he hadn't already settled on his offer, "I'll have sex with you for as long as you want. How does that sound?"

Mocking him as obviously as you could, you slid both hands up his chest and pressed your body to his, pouting and batting your lashes at him, "You want this deal because... what? Spending a little time with the two of you will make me into a good guy, like lil' ol' you?"

Jon shrugged, but his eyes glinted with purpose. "Maybe. Maybe I just want to spend a little more time with the prettiest girl in all of Metropolis."

Alright. That was a little flattering. You saw through it, but still, Jon was so genuine. His hands slid solidly over your waist, toying with the waistband of your underwear.

Damian and Jon, pressing in on you on both sides for weeks... Hmm.

"Fine. Deal." You said.

And then you were more than a hundred feet over Metropolis.

You squealed. Jon laughed, startling a circle of birds flying beneath you. He already had his hands secure around your back, having hooked your calves around his hips at superspeed, but you couldn't help but scramble up him and grip his shoulders like a cat in a tree. Your vision spun, and in it the cityscape's frames closed into one, the huge skyscrapers you'd scaled hours before now capable of fitting under your thumb. The wind whipped your hair from your face and bit into your nude skin, wracking a shiver up your spine. Superboy was still chuckling.

"Thanks for the warning!" You hissed.

"I was only getting us some privacy," Superboy smiled. "Someone was coming up the rooftop entrance. The only way to go was up. You didn't want to be caught naked with me, did you?"

"Hm." You turned your lips into his ear, "But I'm not exactly naked, am I?"

Superboy's broad hands squeezed your thighs. He drifted backwards, too high to be seen but too low to freeze in the sky, and comfortably reclined like you weren't so high that you couldn't make out people on the ground anymore.

"I can help with that, if you'd like," he grinned.

Well... this was Superboy. If you were going to have sex with him, it might as well be spectacular—and a couple thousand feet in the air. And he was probably the one man who could give you an opportunity like this.

Finally, you bit your lip and nodded your head.

Scooping you into his arm's hold instead, Jon held you close and peeled off your panties until you could kick them into the wind. You went to comment on how you wanted to keep that pair, but Jon kept you quiet with a passionate tonguing, mumbling his excitement between your brows. Nothing in the world could keep your hands off him. Both because Jon was so beautiful, his voice so soothing, and you kind of didn't want to fall to your death.

"I won't drop you," Jon husked.

Brushing your thumb along the spray of beauty marks on his nose, you shuddered in anticipation, "...I believe you."

Jon couldn't keep his hands off you, either. While one arm was reserved as your seatbelt that locked you into his lap, the other fluttered across your body. It occurred to you that Superboy might've never even had a girlfriend before. His touches were too light, like he was still testing how much strength it took to caress a girl. When you saddled him long enough to feel safe, you ran your free palm over his, dragging his touch deeper into your skin. And when you grew even braver, you dragged Jon's open suit around his thighs with his boxers and began to pump his cock, which pressed against your bare naval. Settled on him right, Jon's length went all the way to your belly button. It was still slick from your blowjob, soaking the inside of his boxers with hot cum and your sticky saliva.

"Please," Jon gasped. His hips jerked up into your hand like frieght train with steel breaks, throwing your entire body up a few inches. His ecstacy was shaded gold by the nightime city glow below.

It took getting used to, but the longer you drank in Jon's features, his hair spiralling in the wind, the salty smell of the bay on the breeze, the hieght flushed your core with heat. There wasn't any real danger. Superboy would catch you, no matter how spaced out he was by a mind-blowing orgasm. But being so close to danger was thrilling. You could already imagine how Damian would try and one-up something as adrenaline-fueled and sexy as a skyfuck with Superboy.

"Don't be gentle," you warned him.

"I have to," Jon winced, "There's no way you'll be able to take it."

Taking him by the seam of his cape, you jerked your faces close, "You said we could do this for as long as I want," you grinned, "I don't want this to last. I want it to be messy, loud and super-speed fast. Either you fuck me into a hospital stay, or we don't have a deal."

Jon closed his eyes and let his head loll back. His flight tilted away, like he was reclined on a bed with you saddling his lap instead of free-hanging in the sky.

"Sorry," he said when he returned to himself, "I just had to make sure I wasn't dreaming."

"This will be better than your dreams," you smirked. Slowly, you shifted up with Jon's shoulder as support. "And I know you've dreamt about it. I'm your dirty little secret, aren't I, Superboy?" You squeezed his cock, base to tip, until it's thick head was soaked against your clit. "You've dreamt about fucking me like this, haven't you? Filling me up all the way with you as my only support, the only thing I can touch in open air..." You smoothed your palms across his abs over the armor, and then rolled his cock into your sore heat.

Jon groaned, "Ngn!"

The stretch was incredible. His first inch makes you both lose your breath, so you're both hovering against each other, moans caught in your throats. Jon lets you settle around him (warm, wet, massive him), and then with all the gentleness in the world, viscously squeezes your ass under his nails and slams in as deep as he could go, sheathed almost to the hilt. Almost—because he's too big to not have an inch or half leftover.

You wail. It's a sensual, fuck-me-more wail, which Jon gasps and chokes back with one of his own. He pulses so hard that his dick stretches out your soft core just saddled there. You let him, arms thrown around his shoulders, and wade in the cozy pleasure with a drooling mouth. Jon kisses you and gasps apologies, and you growl your ecstacy into the heat of his lips. Fuck yes, just like that, f-fuck me just like that!

After you notice the length, and the width, and the pure dimension of the above-average Kryptonian boy, you're astounded by the liquid. Jon's cum and your spit already pour from your sex, but your wetness too drowns any chance at roughness. You're so slick that Jon could twitch and slip out of you. It only makes the suction stronger, so the first time Jon lifts your hips, your pussy squelches and pops off his length, liquid sealing his cock inside you. He slaps you back down on his thighs so fast your head spins, too in love with your tightness to leave all the way. The pleasure of friction is yours, but it's the closeness that makes Jon float a little higher in the air. Just to test, you clamp down on him. Jon pulls a moan from so deep in his throat that you're almost bucked off him entirely. Inside you, his cock twitches just right against your best bundle of nerves.

Your own weight sets you deeper on him. Jon's head doesn't just poke your womb, but flushes against it, totally closed inside you. At the same time, you dip your heads to see the mess you've made of each other. You can barely see the outline of your sensitive pussy under Jon's massive meat, which flushes inside of you once, twice, and a third time, the muscles there convulsing in bliss.

"Faster, fuck, p-please," you whine. It's the opposite of a mistake.

Jon's adam's apple bobs, "Y-You sure?"

You brace your hands on the symbol on his chest, the grooves of the armor cool against your flushed skin. "Give it to me."

Nervously, Jon tests the waters with a few experimental thrusts, rolling his girthy cock hard against your good spot. Satisfied with his plan, he takes off.

In short bursts, you're fucked sensessly. Super-speed is the best kind of vibrator. Jon fills you so fast and so much in such little time that his dick hums inside of you, twenty thrusts a second. A vibrator doesn't give you the satisfying smack of flesh or the liquid, which is truly the hottest part. He gives you seconds in between to breathe, but all you want is for Jon to drill into you like a industrial oil digger. When you cum on only the third burst and beg him to keep going, beg him to rail you until his cum is pouring from between your legs, Jon finally delivers.

That's what sex with Superboy is like. You flop your head onto his shoulder and hold on for dear life, eyes rolled back into your head in your bliss. The muscular arm Jon has secured to your waist sinks low, hooking you around the hips instead, and you feel him twist in the air to hit your pussy just right. You only have the energy to tremble. Jon's strength really starts to show. You feel his other hand dig in earnest into your ass, bruising it blue as he did where the flat plane of your underthighs meets his merciless hips. His dick schlups obscenely inside you, and Jon's too lost to do anything but saw into you, mindless. You know he won't hurt you, but you can tell the sex is better than he expected. Jon slips mid-air after every solid thrust, so you're ten feet lower than you were the first time you came, and Jon almost forgets his strength when his tongue lavishes your mouth.

"M' there," Jon gasps, "Oh my Rao, m' there."

He twitches. His hands melds your hips to his, and then Jon lets it all loose, swallowing your desperate mewls as your pussy swallows his cum, throbbing and throbbing to get it all, filling you wall to wall. You feel his seed pour down your inner thighs and across his abs in a constant, never-ending stream. It could have been whole minutes before Jon showed any sign of stopping. You came purely because of his pleasure, wracked all over his hot electricity. Jon puts his whole body into a sensual kiss, cock jammed inside you to the hilt. When he finally slips free, your pussy aches with body-shuddering aftershocks. You laze against each other, and Jon is so dazed that you float along the breeze, basking in each other.

"Wow," Jon smiles dizzily.

"Yeah," you fell against his chest, closing your eyes to the flood of cum drizzling down your legs. Your smile feels equally dizzy. Looks like you survived. "Wow..."

-

You'd only had Jon once, unlike the many (many, many) times you'd had Damian. Damian was fiercer than Jon, more animalistic. In some ways he was more passionate, too, a love-making partner instead of a fuck buddy. You wouldn't compare them much, though, when they were a dose better taken together. You'd fantasized about it enough to know.

This was your naughty exception. You wouldn't steal, you'd be a good girl, and you'd have Damian and Jon together at least once.

"Hey," you said.

Damian was waiting for the airlock to warm up, the sub lightless but for the glowing blue console and the blue light of the water churning on the other side of the windshield. His face was illuminated by the array of buttons, which highlighted his sharp jawline and intense brows.

"Be quiet." He snapped. "I'm doing something."

Grumbling your displeasure, you spun your chair sideways, reclining your boots across Damian's lap. He was used to your minor annoyances, so he worked around it and ignored you. You changed tactics.

"I miss you, y'know," you whispered in the sub's humming silence. "I haven't seen you in so long. Or touched you." You slid a hand onto his arm, "...Or kissed you."

Damian scowled at the driver's handles. When you touched him, the look softened. His thumbs nervously played on the controls.

"...I haven't kissed you in some time, either," he muttered.

You unbuckled the straps that kept your cat cowl under your chin, drawing closer to him with fluttering lashes. "Then kiss me now."

Twenty minutes later, you, pristine, walked out of the sub's cockpit with a disheveled Damian in tow. Jon asked what kept you. Robin mumbled something about the airlock malfunctioning as he raced away to 'fix it', hiding a hefty bulge under his cape. He was always so easy to turn on. Damian could never resist a passionate make out session, especially if it took place in his lap.

"Y/N," Jon coughs. Being alone with you has the same effect on him as it had on Damian.

"Thanks for inviting me to your little boy's club, Superblow—" your cheeks went hot. "Sorry. Been thinking a little too much about you, I guess. Thanks, Superboy."

Jon, frankly, looks winded. The hands on his hips shock down to his sides like he's been electrocuted.

"You look very pretty," he stutters. Jon's face is already cherry red, and he's waving his hands around like the gestures will cover up what he's thinking. "I like what you did with your... hair..."

You loop your finger through the curl in the middle of his bangs, stepping into his personal bubble like it wasn't the same for him as a transition between the atmosphere and space.

You lean into his face to flirt, "And I like what you did with yours."

"O-oh, it's just like this," Jon chokes, "I don't even brush it! Well, I-I do actually, I'm not gross or anything like that. I'm actually very clean!"

Low-toned, you smile, "I remember."

Jon forgets how to speak. He squeaks for a while, and you nod along, eating up his shyness. He makes an attempt at hiding under his cape like Damian does, but the fabric isn't wide enough. You figured he would have gotten bolder since your time together, but Damian lurking around every corner seems to shy him up again.

Soon enough, Damian glides back into the room in his normal Darth Vader fashion, which you assume means that he thinks he's strong enough to resist you. He's not.

The boys give you a tour. Damian must have gotten out his spring cleaning supplies, because every room you walk into is spotless and untouched by any trace of college-age boy parties. He makes a big show of all the technical work he's done for the base, including the underwater sensors he installed himself, and a breach-plugging system he described with lots of big words. It's adorable. The two exchange excited glances whenever you seem to approve of something, and Damian's annoyance with having you there is quickly proven to be fake.

After you lay out what movies you're going to watch in the rec room as a group, you decide it's time. "Do you mind if I take a shower first? I didn't have enough time before we left."

"Sure!" Jon says. "It'll give me some time to get some snacks together."

From the couch, Damian broods, "Don't take too long, L/N. We have a schedule to maintain."

With that, you fly into the showers in the locker room, strip your outer clothes, and grin to yourself. The look on their faces will be almost as priceless as the sex. You study your reflection in the glass door to the showers. The lace Superboy bra will tempt Jon into using his x-ray vision, and your tight, perfectly fit Robin panties will have Damian right where you want him. Knee-high stockings were Damian's favorite, and Jon will definitely go crazy for them too. All according to plan. After you... prepare yourself some more... you decide it's time.

You walk the short distance from the bathrooms to the rec room at a casual, confident pace, mentally readying yourself. Two men you cared endlessly for. No matter how long you'd been fantasizing about this, nothing about executing it would make you less nervous.

Taking a breath, you leaned against the doorway and greeted in your silkiest, smoothest voice, "Boys."

Jon was lounging sideways in the corner of the L-shaped sofa, one arm relaxed behind his head. Both he and Damian had traded their uniforms for pajamas. Damian, who was reading off his tablet, wore the tightest tee he could get his hands on, abs practically spilling out of the fabric. Jon was in a loose fitting crop top that showed off his toned arms and dewy skin.

Their conversation swerved to a halt. They stared at you, then glanced at each other.

Suddenly, the two boys grinned.

"Look at this, Kent," Damian's voice glittered with dirtiness, "We hardly had to do anything and she's fallen right into our laps. Our plan worked perfectly."

Jon sat forward, brows raised michieviously. "Our plan was to lead her up to it, D. This isn't really our plan."

The two boys stood. You became very, very aware that they weren't boys anymore.

"She's wearing underwear with our names on it," he scoffed. His eyes devoured the sight of you, and there that panty-tearing look was, as promised. The sharpness in his eyes is begging to rip your underwear off with his teeth. Damian sauntered forward, closing in on you. "I say that is a success."

Your hands fumbled for a place to rest on your body, but crossing your arms puffed up your breasts for Jon to swallow drool over, and setting your hands on your hips outlined them for Damian's hungry eyes. This time, you were the one squeaking.

"No way," your cheeks flushed with heat, "You did not plan a threesome. I planned a threesome. This was my idea!"

Jon and Damian shared a look. It clearly wasn't.

"Well," Jon coughed, respectfully eyeing your exposed skin, "You want this. I want this. D wants this. Let's... let's do it!"

You look between their towering forms, underwear soaked so fast your legs are trembling, and size up your options.

"...Okay."

The two crawl closer. Jon meets you at your front, happily kissing your hands as he draws them around his neck. Damian takes the open angle to fit his iron hard-on against your ass, hands filling in your hips with the same passion his lips appreciate your shoulders with. His mouth spirals into your hair, then your neck, searing your ass backward and into his pelvis. You're kissed on the lips by Jon's angel pecks, dipping in and out to brush his lips to yours. Both are talented kissers. On top of their broader, stronger manhandling of you, you know all of your fantasies are about to be fufilled.

So you moan. You let it all out, mewling, whining and groaning, making sure they know how much you want it. And you want it like you've never wanted anything more in your life. You want Jon's cum to paint your chest and you want Damian spilling ten inches inside of you. You want to be fucked and used, to be made love to. Judging by how you're kissed, that's what they want too.

Jon tongues your teeth. He gets braver as you go, groaning into your mouth, muttering things between kisses. You dig your fingers into his fluffy hair and drag him in for more. He's enjoying himself so much he's humming, which makes you want to get on your knees and hum around his dick like that. Adorable.

Meanwhile, Damian's getting tired of being ignored. His kisses are joined by harsh bites, and his hands smooth up from your hips to your chest in circles, squeezing your breasts in each hand. The feel over the fabric isn't enough for him, though, because he quickly forces his hands up your bra and over your chest. Jon's wide palms join his, squeezing and massaging your collarbones and tits.

"Beautiful," he mumbled, "you're so beautiful."

You give him a longer, sweeter kiss for the comment, which is the last straw for Damian. One moment Jon is nuzzling your cheek with his nose, and in the next Damian is shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan, but he only likes it more. You wore a Superboy bra and Robin panties for a reason. From behind, Jon can hug you against him, warm and honey tasting, kissing your neck and cupping your chest. Your nipples are rolled lovingly through his fingers. Damian, on the other hand, leaves his love in his kissing. Your ass is grabbed viciously by his nails, which he rakes up your flesh in supple handfuls. Your ears are flooded with kissing sounds, the popping of spit, the moans between breathes. You sink into their hold in total bliss.

But this isn't only for you. Soon, you find a way to pry yourself out of Jon's hug and Damian's aggressive ass-grabbing to slip onto your knees.

"Ready?" You smile.

Damian snaps, "Get on with it." His voice makes your pussy throb.

Jon flicked Damian on the arm and tried not to look too shy. "Be nice." He touches your cheek, "Yeah... um, yeah, we're ready. Go ahead."

They're too shy to make the next move. You have no issue doing it for them, considering how fun it is one on one. But this is two on one, so there's two faces to watch as you palm them through their pants, drag them closer, then unwrap them. Jon has his eyes closed in anticipation (and shyness), lashes fixed against his cheeks. Damian's lazarus green eyes targeted you. His gaze is heaviest, so you treat him for it.

Their cocks are huge. Bigger than you remember, even. Jon is rediculously proportioned, long, thick, and smooth. He literally hangs when you pull him free, at least a foot long. Maybe half your arm. Damian is bronzey, veiny, and handsome-looking. You don't need to collect any spit, since the drool pooling in your mouth at the sight of them is plenty. Working Jon in one hand, you start with Damian's cock.

He slides himself into your mouth by the hips, studying your handiwork with malacious delight. You're all moaning too much to speak, except for Damian's low grunt of, "You know what to do, Catgirl. Take what's yours."

Like any good thief would, you do. Damian's cock immediately jolts in to press into the back of your throat. You let him through, gulping, guck-ing, and sucking with every new inch. A chill races up your body at the deadly edge in his eyes. Robin talked the law plenty, but he let you go at every opportunity for a messy deepthroat. Superboy has his kryptonite, and Damian has you, balls deep. You hit his base with ease. His cock settles perfectly in the sleeve of your throat. Every throb of cockmeat fills your entire skull, bulging under the skin of your neck. You suck spit back through your teeth and pump your head along the last inch of cock.

Of course, he's never satisfied. You're too slow for him. Damian gives Jon a smug look, nets your hair in both hands, then begins to pound into your face like a madman. You love it. You love it like you loved stealing, feeling wrong and naughty and used. Nothing feels sluttier than the heat in your belly when Damian uses you as he pleases. Damian goes until your eyes well with tears, stuffing you to the brim, and then releases you to groan, "Good girl. You've improved."

Your spit hangs from his dick in strings and bubbles. You'd lick them up if there wasn't another aching, desperate customer to take care of.

"Don't strain yourself," Jon whispers.

It had taken four times as long to get Jon to cum from a blowjob the first time you'd done it, so by now, you've learned. The spit from Damian's dick follows you to Jon's, which you waste no time popping into your mouth. He likes light kisses and lots of tongue, which you wield without mercy. The veins in his cock flutter when traced. His head is almost too big to hold comfortably in your mouth, but the wobble it puts in his lip makes it worth it. Jon mewls for more. You suckle his head faster, rolling your wet tongue along it's sweet surface. With a few more kisses and a lot more long drags of your tongue, he's panting as hard as Damian is.

"Don't worry," you grin, "I didn't forget about you."

You can barely fit their tips in your mouth one at a time, but you try both anyway. Damian smears your spit back onto your cheek with his dick, which slips easily through the slick saliva dripping down your chin. Their fat, delicious cocks squeeze into either side of your lip. Jon has to grab the back of the couch to keep from breaking something. Damian forces you into Jon's cock by the hair, sawing you onto the first few inches.

"Look at her go," Jon gasps.

"She has a very talented mouth," Damian remarks.

You hum in agreement, since your mouth is too full for you to speak properly. While you're gagging on one of Damian's balls, Jon leans down and fixes your bra. ...Then slides his dick through.

The hot, sticky flesh sizzles between your breasts. You try not to cum when you realize what he's trying to do. Squeezing your tits around him, you shudder in pleasure as Jon begins to thrust his spit-soaked manhood through the shape of your chest. The fact that it's Jon making such a bold move only makes it more panty-soaking. Taking advantage of the spare hole, Damian guides your head to the side and onto his waiting cock. You're used from two angles then, once as Jon's pair of tits, and again as Damian's slutty cock-sheath.

"She loves it," Damian grins, "What a whore. I bet you're begging to covered in cum, aren't you?"

You nodded as best you could on Damian's girth. Jon's thrusts push you back with every blow, bouncing your breasts each time. Without warning, you're struggling to gulp down Damian's load, which he only plunges deeper into your throat. You can practically feel him pumping it into your stomach. It's the sexiest thing you've ever felt until Jon cums a second later, pouring—pouring—a whole quart of seed across your neck and chest. Kryptonians came an unreasonable amount.

You collapsed backwards, spent. Slouched there, covered and filled with cum, you felt like a cream donut.

The boys recover before you do, so you're scooped up and deposited between them on the couch. In the corner of your eye, Damian disappears, no doubt to gather supplies, leaving you to sink into the cushions with Jon. Definitely for a brief amount of time. You can't think of many reasons why Damian would be eager to share you. Especially with someone like Jon, who reeks of boyfriend material. A clever suspicion forms in your mind, but you save it for when Jon isn't cutely keeping your hair out of your face.

"Damian's getting all the stuff we'll need, towels included," Jon blushed at the mess on your chest from where he sat next to the couch on the floor. "M' real sorry. I shoulda warned you ahead of time..."

You lick a smear of cum off your chin and play with crossing your legs, which easily draws Jon's eye. "Don't sweat it, J." You rub the underside of his jaw like you would a puppy. "I knew what I was getting myself into. How'd you convince Damian to do all this, anyway?"

Playing with his fingers, Jon met your gaze though his long lashes. "Oh, uh. He convinced me, actually. I wasn't sure if you'd want to, but he proved it to me."

Now this was interesting. You squinted at him, "What proof?"

"Well, we tell each other everything," Jon awkwardly laughed, "When you and I had our night together, I told him right away. (I hope you don't mind). He'da found out eventually, whether I liked it or not. He was always telling me about you two, anyway. He likes how much control you have in your life. I think he's a little jealous a' you." Jon opened and closed his mouth, unsure if he should have spoken. Your silence invited him to continue. "But, um... That time when you, uh... were in Damian's room..."

Your teeth flashed. "When I touched myself in his bed to get back at him for being mean?"

"Yes," Jon's cheeks flushed, pinned back by his smile, "He heard you say both of our names. His and mine. And I dunno, his detective sense knew that you weren't just trying to get under his skin."

Your eyes drew up from Jon's biceps, plumped out against his side. He was so muscular that he even had those sexy indents over his ribs. Jon's muscle was softer than Damian's though, more huggable. You wanted to sink your teeth into him.

"So he organizes this?" You said.

"Yeah. Like I said. We all like each other," Jon shrugged, "And it's not like we can do this kind of stuff with normal people. Secrets could get figured out, people could get hurt. This is... actually pretty healthy, I think."

"Mhm," you hummed. When your nails drag under Jon's chin, he dropped his face into your hand and tried to hide his embarrassed grin. "You hurt me real good," you purred. "I was sore in bed for a week. Gave me plenty of time to think about you..." you brushed his hair behind his ear, "use my toys..."

Jon's eyes got the slightest bit wild. "But you didn't have anything as big as me, did ya?"

You gave his chin a friendly pinch. "Don't get cocky, Kent. Damian was perfectly big enough for me."

Jon went quiet. You figured you'd hurt his feelings, revealing that you'd had sex with Damian within the week you'd made love to him, until his hand squeezed your waist. "Did he do the icepack thing?"

You examined him, suspicious, "How do you know about that?"

"When you get hurt, he puts all these ice packs on your bruises and patches you up, but he kisses em' all first. Maybe he gives you a backrub," Jon listed. He drew patterns on your hands while he explained, shyly, "And as he's kissin' you and rubbin' you, he starts kissing where the bruises aren't, telling you what he likes about you, how he'd do anything to help you feel better... right?"

You smiled to yourself, watching Jon's hand. "He drew me a bath. Read me poetry. Said something stupid about being worried about me, wanting to keep me close to him. Bent me over the bathroom counter and ripped the towel right off me."

"Romantic," Jon snorted.

"What he do for you?" You asked, arms uncrossed.

"Didn't have my powers," Jon explained, and the look on his face answered your question just as much as he did, "He played me piano, made out with me, made me dinner. And when I was all nice and gooey for him, he blew me until I was brainless. By the end of it I was so crazy for him I had to go home and deprogram myself like I was some kind of cultist."

You raised your eyebrows, shrugging, "Damian was raised to be a cult leader."

"Damn pretty one," Jon said.

You giggled together like real gossips.

"I love his morning voice," you conspired with him, "I felt like I'd been shot, holy hell. So sexy. All husky and low..."

"And then he has the guts to whisper in your ear with that stupid mouth," Jon cursed, shuddering in delight. "Somebody needs to clean his mouth with soap."

"You know," you tapped your chin in thought, "the moment Damian found out that you and I had sex, he had to have thought of this. All three of us pouncing on each other. He had the exact same fantasy I did! I would have never pinned him as the type..."

"Me either," Jon hummed, tone brimming with amusement. He snickered. "I bet he just wants to watch us, the weirdo."

Damian's sharp shadow fell over your and Jon's bodies, scaring you both out of your skin. His low, handsome voice cut through your conversation like a katana through butter. "I'm not opposed to the idea, Kent."

When you recovered, Damian smirked between the two of you and raised the things he'd brought. Towels, a bowl of water, a washcloth, and lube. He set the water bowl on the side table behind you, leaving the cloth inside. "I was going to clean you off, Y/N, but if you're inclined to this..." He gestured between you and Jon, grin almost a handsome sneer, "I wouldn't mind watching my cum drip down your chest as Kent fucks you."

"You've been holding out on me, beloved," you teased, "Since when are you so bold?"

Jon grinned impishly. "You were right. He totally wanted to do this because he's got a fantasy about the two of us."

You uncrossed your legs and moved forward onto your knees, crawling across the couch to simper into Damian's lap. "Look at his face, Jon. He totally did." You gave Damian's burning cheek a cute squeeze, "Did you think about him touching me like you touch me?" You kissed into Damian's ear. "Did you think about how making love to me like how he loves you?"

Damian gave a shy, stern nod. His expression was icy, but that just meant that he was trying harder than usual to fight down how turned on he was. The boxers he'd pulled back on twitched with the start of an erection. You didn't even bother to excite him with your hands, and sunk your head between Damian's trembelling legs to mouthe his bulge through his underwear. Jon watched from over your shoulder, mouth watering. You would have invited him to join you if you were feeling generous, but the taste of Damian's hardening cock is too good to share.

You spread your knees and hooked your calves around Jon's legs, who's already slipping your panties out of the way. He's smart enough not to take them off of you. Instead, Damian gets to watch as Jon kisses your back, your hips, hooks your Robin panties around his finger like a reign, and dizzies with pleasure as his cock sinks into your pussy.

Damian's cock gets your full-bodied moan. Large, calloused hands hook around the back of your neck and keep you on him. For a breath, both of them stop to let you settle. They could plow into you and use you until you were lungless if they wanted to, so you take the uneeded moment to laze in the feeling of them. Damian's palm pushes you deep on his girth, thumb stroking your hair. He smells like sweet oils and leather-ish because of his Robin suit, which takes you back to the nights where he would take off his belt so you would ride him in uniform. Behind you, Jon drops his hands next to yours on the couch. You feel your back press into his toned abs, his nose fall into your hair, his dick pulse within your plush center. He whines, low and wanting.

You imagine what you must look like with orgasmic delight. Damian shoving you onto his cock, the dark freckles on his wrist tweaked because of the angle. Jon's tall, muscular body stretched out over yours, his open mouth just inches from Damian's, shoulders rounded out, arms flexed. It's dirty. It's downright slutty. You're laid out, face down and ass up, for Robin and Superboy. The two men you've dreamed of having are desperate to fuck you. You're guzzling Robin halfway down your throat already, and Superboy pumps deeper inside you every second. It's a dream come true.

As Jon bounces you around Damian, and Damian thrusts you back onto Jon, you're fucked back and forth in a maddening line. You expect Jon to be considerate, and he is. He starts slow, working you with his wide tip first. Jon rolls his hips in gentle dips, wetting his head. In one thrust he could steal you all for himself, but he makes the depth worth it, earning you inch by inch. Soon he's soaked enough to take you deeper, and deeper, until you're being filled every time. The burn soaks into a pleasurable softness. His long, firm shaft flushes to your sensitive walls, filling your pretty pussy with powerful Kryptonian heat. You would try to meet his thrusts, but Damian and Jon's rythym is ruthless, and any pull away from Damian is a request to be mercilessly met by Jon and vice versa.

While the slaps of Jon's hips to yours are loud, your gagged mewls are easily louder. Damian was done letting you play with him. You were such an expert when it came to riling him up, you could keep him from cumming yourself if you wanted to. Your tongue would only offer his head playful, light licks, and you would keep him in the shallow of your lips, barely touching him even if he was completely in your mouth. Watching Jon fuck you turned him on too much to stick to riling alone, so Damian took your hair by the root and started you off like he wanted you to. Damian pulled his cock into the comfortable depth of your throat, letting you gag and swallow him to no avail. He let you go for an instant and automatically you dragged your lips sideways down his length, sucking him hard. On the second drop you slurped his balls into your mouth, expertly licking back up him to deepthroat him, thrown even deeper by Jon's timed thrust. Damian let you have your freedom, now that he knew you'd pay attention to him properly. You didn't beg him with your eyes or tickle his legs like you usually did. This was for pleasure, not for show. You kept your throat open and began to bob on his cock, around his tip, around his shaft, against his base, shuffling your wet lips low on his sensitive manhood. Damian groaned and gasped like he didn't know how to speak.

Your lips plumped around him perfectly. You could taste your spit glimmering on his long, clean bronze cock, and bubbled it down his shaft until it cloyed to his legs. Soon Damian was off his thighs and up onto his knees, where he could fill your mouth in earnest. Dark amusement glowed in his eyes at your every pop and slurp, like there was nothing sexier in the world than the way you took him so happily. His eyes would flicker from your slow, sensual deepthroating to Jon's face as he fucked you. Damian was close, if the throbbing filling your throat meant anything. There wasn't a moment where a cock wasn't inside you. On your hands and knees, you're spitroasted between their furious hips.

You swallow up your leftover spit when you pull off him, lips glazed with pre-cum and drool. "He feels so good," you whined, "o-oh my god, Damian," you pressed your cum-soaked face into his cock, gasping and moaning and shuddering, "o-oh my god, he feels so good—holy fuck he's so big—I'm so close, ah, fuck! Fill me up fill me up fill me—"

Damian caressed your face in one shaking hand, and the moment you opened your mouth for him, worshiped your soft lips down his side, and tongued his head, he bucked into the hieght of your throat and came until your stomach was full. Jon gets an eyeful of Damian's sexy, burning ecstacy, and in two seconds he's vibrating cum into your slit too. Even as he cums he keeps thrusting, and thrusting, and Damian locks your head in place so your mouth is flush to his abs. Your vision goes white. On either side, in both holes, you're stuffed to the brim. Cum pulses down your throat and pours from your slit. Jon and Damian moan, twitching against you.

And Jon keeps going.

The moment Damian cuts you loose, you're whipped onto your back and plunged into. Twenty, thirty thrusts a second, Jon steams with heat, fucking you, reaming you, while Damian watches. You wail for it, because this is the Superboy you've been waiting for. Jon is fresh over the edge, just a little too turned on to remember he can break you in half, and going totally crazy on you. You cum again and another time, spasming in pure bliss, fucked out of your mind. To your misfortune, Jon is able to come back to himself.

"Oh my g-gosh," he flushes, "What am I doing? Y/N? Are you okay? I-I didn't mean to hurt you, honey, I—"

You're too high to speak, so you shut Jon up by cupping your hand over his mouth. He pulls it away, anxious, and tenderly holds your palm between his. The soft edge of his pupil spills across your body, a treat in it's own way. He'd fucked you so fast that your body didn't have time to catch up to even one orgasm, so they're thrown on top of you all at once, leaving you breathless and plowed. Your pussy throbs, sensitive and raw.

Jon lifts his hips to get off of you, until Damian hisses, "Don't you dare pull out of her, Kent."

Furiously, Damian jerks his soaked cock in one hand. The other has pinned a knuckle between his teeth, eyes fused to the scene in front of him. Since your head is in his lap, a few flicks of pre-cum and spit land on your face. It doesn't matter much, though, because Damian lets go between your and Jon's bodies a second later. You open your mouth just in time to get Damian's cum. It drapes across your face in upside-down ropes, spilling into Jon's waiting mouth.

"More," Jon mumbles.

Cupping his face, you give him more. It's a devilish, tactical move, but you're gearing Damian up for the same ferocious fucking you'd gotten from Jon. Watching you kiss his cum into Jon's mouth has the exact effect you'd hope for. Damian goes still above you, mesmerized by the romantic kiss. Jon pecks your mouth with sweet dips. Your tongue slides against his, exchanging Damian's cum and a few soft moans.

When you pull away from each other, your sly eyes slide up to see the look on Damian's face.

"Evil," he dramatically covers his blushing face with his hands, "both of your are evil."

Giggling, you allow Jon to help you up, and together you relax into Damian's arms, who pouts at all the touching. It's hard for him not to dissolve totally into a blushing mess. None of you have the strength to say more, but it's agreed in your haggard breaths that this is only a break. Even if Damian enjoyed the show, Jon had his turn with you. Now, you really wanted them both. Damian, of course, reads your mind.

"You've prepared yourself for me, haven't you, beloved?" Damian smirked. You felt his nose brush your ear, and the closeness of his voice flushed back your arousal at an insane speed. The feel of his hot, moist breath hovering over your neck made you want him to lick and suck all over your flesh. "That's exactly what you planned for. Of course you want both of us at the same time... You've always be so greedy..."

Jon caught up with what was being said, and instantly flushed in the face. "Y/N..."

"Please?" You teased, flushing closer to Damian's chest. The warm arm around your waist became a hand possessively squeezing your ass. You covered it, and let your other cup the sweaty hair at Jon's neck. "I'll be such a good girl," you promised, darkly, "I think I deserve something for all the hard work I've done."

Damian and Jon exchanged a look. They'd known each other long enough for the glance to be telepathic, so a decision is quickly made between them.

"Alright," Jon says.

Damian's eyes glimmer with lust. "So. Where will you have me?"

-

part two.

[sturchling]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a story of marinette moving to Gotham.

And going to gotham academy and having her own boutique. Damienette pairing. Cat noir salt. You dont have to if u dont want too.

Sorry for the long wait, work has been keeping me super busy lately. I hope you like this and it was worth the wait! I had a hard time trying to work in the Chat Noir salt, so its more like Adrien salt. Let me know what you think!

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

Marinette was tired of Lila and her lies. She was tired of Adrien’s refusal to help defend her from the liar. And she was tired of everyone believing the liar over Marinette. Most of the school now believed that Marinette was a horrible bully that had been attacking Lila since she arrived. Marinette had been removed as class rep and was constantly given detention by Mr. Damocles. Marinette’s parents have been very supportive, and now realized that Lila was just a malicious liar. But even with their support, it had become to much for Marinette and she knew it was time to leave Paris.

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

Her parents were hesitant when she brought up the idea. Marinette had found a study abroad program where she could attend Gotham academy, hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. She discussed it with her parents, really hoping to convince them. They were obviously concerned for a number of reasons. The main one being the crime rate in Gotham. They knew that Marinette needed to get away from Paris, that things had gotten bad in the city for her. But they didn’t want to send her to a dangerous city where she could be hurt or killed. But after speaking with Marinette for several hours, they started to realize how excited Marinette was for the opportunity. While they were still worried, they knew this was the right place for Marinette. And they were comforted that if she was accepted, she would be hosted by and staying with Bruce Wayne. His manor is one of the safest places in the city. So, they agreed with Marinette that she could apply the program.

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

So Marinette applied to the study abroad program. She didn’t tell anyone at the school, not like anyone in the class was speaking to her anyway. She waited anxiously for news from the program, hoping to hear that she had been accepted.  The longer she didn’t hear anything, the more anxious she became. She was sure that she had been rejected and they just hadn’t told her. Marinette had just got back from a particularly bad day at school, when she noticed she had a new email. An email from the study abroad program. She raced to open the email, and started cheering when she read the line We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Gotham Academy Study Abroad Program. Marinette raced downstairs and told her parents the news. The email said that she would be expected in Gotham by the end of the month. It went on to explain details of the program. That night the Dupain-Cheng family celebrated, and began preparing for Marinette’s departure. 

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

The last month of Marinette’s time in Paris seemed to drag on and on. Everyday she had to listen to Lila’s lie all day long and the whole class fawn over here. She had to endure Lila accusing her of bullying almost daily and almost daily detentions. But finally, it was her final day at the Dupont. She was almost giddy as she walked to Mr. Damocles’ office with her parents. When she entered the office and Mr. Damocles saw her, he just sighed. “What did you do now Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Then he saw her parents in the office and straightened up. “I didn’t do anything Mr. Damocles. I never did anything Lila accused me of, but I know you will never believe me on that. We are just here to get my academic records and inform you that I will no longer be attending this school after today.” Mr. Damocles was flustered by the sudden declaration. “What do you mean you won’t be attending anymore? Where are you going?” Mr. Dupain stepped forward, barely containing his contempt for this man who had been helping to make his daughter miserable. “Marinette will be studying abroad in America for the next year at least. Now, give us the academic records.” Mr. Damocles stuttered for a while, wondering how such a bully got accepted to such an amazing program. But soon, the Dupain-Chengs got the records from him and were on their way.

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

 Marinette went down to the locker room with her parents and started emptying her locker. Class hadn’t started yet so, everyone was still in the locker room. They were confused when Marinette started emptying her locker. Adrien, who was about the only  person that still talked to Marinette from time to time, approached the young designer. “Marinette? What are you doing?” Marinette didn’t look at any of them, continuing to empty her locker as she responded. “I am emptying my locker. Starting Monday, I will no longer be here for school. I am transferring to Gotham Academy.” The class stood in shock, they never expected Marinette to leave. Sure they were happy that Lila would be able to come to school in peace, but it would be weird without Marinette here. They just stood in shocked silence, as Marinette finished with her locker and walked out with her parents. 

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

Adrien was shocked by Marinette’s decision. Why would she leave? He knew things had been tough for her lately, but he had kept telling her that it would get better soon. Soon the class would realize that Lila was a liar. That she just had to wait a little longer. But Marinette had clearly given up and was running away. That wasn’t like Marinette at all. When he had the chance, Adrien was going to go pay her a visit in Gotham and convince her to return. 

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

Marinette was already loving Gotham. She had been met at the airport by Alfred who brought her to the manor. Mr. Wayne was very nice and introduced her to his children as well. Marinette was the same age as Damian and would be in the same class as him as well. Damian had expected to be irritated by this girl when he was first informed of their guest. But to his surprise, he didn’t find her presence as repulsive as everyone else. 

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

Weeks went by and Marinette was having a wonderful time. She had made some wonderful friends in her class, though she was nervous to try and make friends after Mrs. Bustier’s class. But she was welcomed warmly by her new class. Her and Damian had also grown close over the weeks. They had started dating recently, and would often spend their time together quietly working on their different craft projects; Marinette working on her designs, and Damian working on his most recent painting. The Waynes were shocked at the change Marinette had caused in the youngest Wayne. Damian was still a very reserved person, but he was considerably warmer to Marinette and had started to act warmer to his family as well. 

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

While Marinette wasn’t aware of it, her departure brought about Lila’s downfall. Lila hadn’t been at school recently, on a ‘diplomatic trip to Achu’, and because of that, she didn’t know Marinette left Paris. So when she came back, she was planning on making her next attack against Marinette’s reputation. She used makeup to make fake bruises and called up her tears as she entered the classroom. The class was horrified to see their friend crying and injured. They raced forward and asked Lila what happened. “It was horrible. As soon as I returned to the city last night, Marinette was waiting for me outside my home. She was so mad that she got detention for a week when I told Mr. Damocles that she had stolen my book. She beat me up and said if I ever said anything I would regret it! I am so scared!” Lila was proud of this performance. It was probably one of her best performances yet. But when she looked up at the class, she was surprised to see that the class was staring at her doubtfully. 

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

Alya, feeling dread in her stomach, asked “Are you sure it was Marinette last night? No chance it was someone else?” Lila, irritated that they were questioning her, didn’t notice the tension in the room. “Of course it was Marinette. I saw her face and there is no way it was anyone else last night.” Nino, who was now realizing that this could mean that Marinette was right and that Lila was a liar, asked “What do you mean Marinette attacked you last night? Marinette moved to Gotham almost two weeks ago. She couldn’t have attacked you last night.”  Now Lila was horrified. This was a major mistake. Lila was trying to back pedal, and figure a way out of this mess, but the class had realized at this point that Lila was lying and that she had probably been lying before when Marinette was still here. The class started to yell at Lila as they realized that she had been lying to them all this time. Lila raced from the room, not wanting to face the class. The class quickly tried to reach out to Marinette, to apologize and ask her to come home, but the number they had for her had been disconnected. Adrien was disappointed that Marinette hadn’t told anyone her new number, not even him. He was going to go to Gotham soon and try to convince her to come back. He was sure their Everyday Ladybug would be willing to come back.

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

One day, weeks after Lila’s exposure, Damian and Marinette were sitting in the garden just relaxing. After watching Marinette work on a new design, Damian said, “Marinette, you should really try to open a boutique. Your work is terrific and you would be very successful.” Marinette seemed shocked for a moment. “You really think I should? I wouldn’t even know where to start. And how would I afford a building? I don’t think I could do it.” Marinette continued to anxiously ramble, until Damian came to stand in front of Marinette. “Marinette, Angel, breathe. I am sure you would do wonderfully. And as for the building, my father has multiple buildings in the city that he isn’t using. I am sure he would allow you to set up in one of them.” After more convincing, Marinette agreed to at least ask Bruce about it. When they approached Bruce, he was very willing to help Marinette set up her first boutique. He had seen the girl’s designs and knew that she would be a major success. Marinette felt bad about just taking one of his buildings and accepting his help with getting everything she needed for the boutique, but she accepted when Bruce told her to consider it a loan if that made her more comfortable. Then, they immediately started setting up her boutique.

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

After about a month, everything was set up and Marinette’s boutique had opened under the name MDC. She was an instant success and quickly became very busy with several orders from big name clients. As time went on, Marinette began to feel like Gotham was her home. One day, after she had closed the boutique and was leaving with Damian to go on a date, they were approached by a familiar face. “Adrien?” Adrien smiled and approached her. “Hi Marinette.” Damian sensing the tension, stepped closer to Marinette. “Who is this Marinette?” Adrien looked at the boy standing next to Marinette and didn’t recognize him at all. “Damian, this is Adrien, someone I knew in Paris. Adrien, this is my boyfriend Damian.” That took Adrien by surprise, but he moved past it. He was sure that Marinette would leave this Damian and come back to Paris where she belonged.

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

“So what are you doing here Adrien?” Adrien smiled again, “I am here to bring you home Marinette! Lila has been found out and she is gone. You don’t have to keep hiding here in Gotham. You can come home and back to the class. Everything can go back to normal.” Marinette just stared at him, as Damian started to get angry. Adrien didn’t pick up on the tension. “So come on. Lets go get your things. We can fly back to Paris in the morning.” Adrien tried to grab her arm, but Marinette moved back, avoiding him. “I’m sorry Adrien, but I’m not going back. I am really happy here. I still have months with the study abroad program and may stay here permanently if I can. I have friends who wouldn’t leave me for a liar. Damian is here. And my boutique is doing really well. I am not ready to go back to Paris.” Adrien just rolled his eyes. “Come on Marinette, you have friends in Paris, and you can set up a new boutique in Paris. Its no big deal. So come on, lets go.” Adrien once again tried to grab at Marinette’s arm, this time Damian got in his way and shoved him back. “Marinette said she didn’t want to go with you so that is that. You should go now, you have embarrassed yourself enough.” Adrien glared at Damian, angry that he was getting in his way. “I am not leaving. Not until Marinette tells me to, so stay out of this.” Marinette stepped out from behind Damian, looking more confident then Adrien ever remembered seeing her. “Adrien you should leave. I am happy here and I am not going back to Paris. My ‘friends’ in Paris turned their backs on me because of the liar’s pretty words. My friends here would never do that to me. Now please leave.” Adrien was shocked, and didn’t move. Damian rolled his eyes and guided Marinette around Adrien and back to the manor.

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

Adrien went back to Paris, alone, the day after his conversation with Marinette. He was surprised that Marinette wouldn’t come back with him. Mrs. Bustier’s class was sad when Adrien came back without Marinette. They had hoped she would come back, but unlike Adrien, they knew the chances were slim. While they were sad that Marinette was gone and that they had chased off such a good friend, they were happy that she had found a place that she could live happily. They tried to move on, hoping that one day they may get the chance to apologize to Marinette in person. 

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

Marinette stayed in Gotham after her conversation with Adrien. She finished her year with the study abroad program and then decided to live in Gotham permanently, with her parents blessing. She continued to stay at the manor, living happily with the Waynes. She continued using the horse miraculous to go back and forth to Paris for the akumas and soon revealed her identity to the Waynes once she realized they were the Batfam. Her boutique continued to be a major success. Her life had improved in every way it could. She was surrounded by true friends, she had a boyfriend who truly cared for her, her fashion business had started with great success, and she didn’t have to deal with the liar anymore. She was the happiest she had been in a long time, and she intended to be this happy for the rest of her life in Gotham.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

So this is something I wrote sometime during 12 to 1 AM coz i couldn't sleep and I can't get this idea out of my head. I have an Maribat obsession. English is my second language so there is bound to be mistakes.

Something to know beforehand Sabine is an assassin but not part of the League and trains Marinette in the ways of assassin stuff. She also knows about her daughter being LB cause u can't hide stuff from a former assassin. Mari is more chaotic and have Plagg's ring. This is told from both Damian and Jason's Pov.

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

Damian groaned.

He was not having a good day.

First, Father decided to pair him with Todd, TODD of all people, for patrol.

Second, while investigating the warehouse near the docks which seems to be the cause for concern and enduring Red Hood's taunts, they both were knocked out by tranquilizers and his mother face was the last thing he remembers seeing.

"Don't worry, little one. You are just fulfilling your duties as heir to the Demon's Head."

She had said, just before he fully lost consciousness.

Third, he was chained up and had a headache. Taking a bearing of his surroundings, he found himself in wedding ensembles of the League of Shadows. Red Hood was chained up next to him as well but unlike him, still had his suit and helmet on. Glancing to the other side, he saw a raven-haired girl, chained up as well and dressed in the black and gold robes of a bride. She had also retained consciousness and was staring at him.

Bluebell eyes met his piercing green.

She was petite with asian features. She had freckles dotting her button nose.

She was fragile and would break easily, he thought.

Why did his mother wants him to marry such a weakling?

"(French) Do you know where we are?" Her voice was sweet and trembling. Her eyes were wide and seem filled with innocence. She was an Angel, not fit for the world she was forcefully going to get married to.

She opened her mouth to ask again and suddenly, she slumped to appear unconscious. A moment later, he heard footsteps approaching and the door opened to reveal his mother.

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

Jason finally woke up to the sight of the Bitch Talia and Demon Spawn, face to face, in a staring contest.

Talia broke the silence.

"Damian,my son, I hope you know what is expected of you."

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting tied to her?"

Jason saw through his helmeted vision, a girl about Damian's age, across him and chained up like them.

"Marinette may not seem like it but she possesses great power that your grandfather converts. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Talia grabbed the girl's hair and yanked so that her eyes met the girl's. The girl, who unfortunately was going to be the Demon Spawn's bride,(That little shithead is getting married. Jason thought) lets out a cry and starts to tear up. Jason felt anger at how she was treated.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Demon Spawn growled out. Bride to be or not, that is no way to treat a girl and if Jason could, he would beat him for that comment. The girl starts babbling in what seems to be a mix of French and Cantonese. And Talia and Demon Spawn starts to argue about the choice of who he was forced to marry.

"(Arabic)Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian of all of them. The old Guardian, the old fool promised her in exchage for protection."

"(Arabic)That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne."

The dark haired girl had stopped crying and starts murmuring, from what Jason hears , in Latin? He caught words like "Black Cat" "Portal" "Mother" " getting Married" "ladybug" and some curse words thrown in.

And she stopped as if waiting for an answer.

Later, Jason saw a terrifying smile crossed the face of the girl chained up across him that was quickly smoothed out.

He blinked.

Talia was now choking on the chains that were previously chained to the wall and now around her neck. Fortunately, Talia had closed the door after her entrance and the guards stationed outside were none the wiser to what was happening inside the cell.

The experienced assassin tried to get free and gain an upper hand on the girl but was unsuccessful, passing out from the lack of oxygen and strangly strong grip of the girl.

Next, she breathed hard on the chains on her wrists which instantly disintegrated into flakes of rust. She somehow managed to use what remained of the chains to hog tie the assassin up. ( Talia didn't have the keys to the locks. Being crafty like that. The girl told them to call her M and used her weird ability to remove their chains.)

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

Damian had his jaws on the ground, in shock at the turn of events. He had severely underestimated his betrothal.

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

Edit: I wrote a more in-depth version if you want to read it. Here

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 17

Jason was having the time of his life.

Dick was sure of it. He might grump and sulk a lot more than before, but Dick was sure that he was having fun. Sure, guarding Damian might be a little more than tasking, after a while - especially since Damian was so certain that he could face Bane alone if it comes down to it, conveniently ignoring the fact that: a. he's ten and practically one-tenth of Bane's size; b. the Waynes most likely would detest having to clear intestines off the marble floor if Damian were to be let near a katana and/or Bane, and c. Alfred definitely would detest cleaning intestines or parts of Damian off the floor or walls.

And d. Bruce Wayne seemed to actually enjoy having Damian around and has no qualm in talking to Damian as if he was twice his age. Bruce's age, that is. Not Damian's. Dick suspected that Bruce has spent a lot of time talking to 60-year-olds.

But there were numerous forms of excitement that were offered by the Wayne Manor. First and foremost were the cars. Dick has never learned to drive - being a Talon kind of impeded the learning process of 'common human things'. Jason, however, was an excellent driver. He had mentioned something about being a getaway driver in warzones, and Dick couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or joking. Either way, he rather enjoyed it whenever he and Jason had to take Damian somewhere in town.

Except for today, as somebody seemed to have tampered with the car.

It wouldn't brake, and they were cruising really, really fast.

Hence Dick's belief that Jason was having fun. He did not look perturbed at the slightest as he controlled the car, swerving crazily over the backroads, making sharp u-turns instead of going into the city roads and went back where they came from. Within a mile from the Drake House's gate, Jason finally managed to cut down the speed to the point where the car's engines died and it rolled to a stop. On the Drake House's gate.

"Seriously, people," Tim remarked dryly as they walked in - leaving the car at the gate and settling their respective adrenaline back down. "I've heard of visiting the neighbors, but must you be like, dying and/or damaging people's property before you come here to say hi?"

"The car was tampered with," Damian reported. "Must be the brute. And I shall replace your gate, Drake."

"I think I'm down to like, eight lives. No-- seven." Dick admitted, "my heart's still beating a hundred miles per minute. Good thing, though, at least that way I know I'm quite alive."

"Dick, you're a bird. Not a cat." Tim deadpanned. His eyes never leaving Jason, who had lit up a cigarette as he walked through the house. "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since I was eleven," Jason replied. "And since I walked into a house that has laser triggers that were set up by a lunatic. Smoke worked to reveal them all."

"I'm... partially scowling because smoking kills. But I suppose laser triggers would kill faster..." Tim replied.

"The lasers are used to trigger booby traps just about Damian's height. If he were to be a common kid and run around the house, he'd be decapitated within the first few days." Jason continued bitterly. "What the fuck is wrong with that giant lump of steroids, anyway? He was ready to kill a child!"

"The nutshell version is that the child would prevent his usurping the Waynes' wealth." Tim pointed out. "The long version is that I don't think he's really the child of Dr Wayne, the Waynes know of it, and they're literally being held hostage in their own home. Also, you people are being watched, too, by drones. I've asked Harper to kill those drones for entering my property."

Tim then explained Bruce's visit and the USB. "Oracle has contacted him and told him we... the Birds, that is - are investigating the evidence."

"How long until we can punch the asshole out of the house for good?" Jason demanded, accepting a bottle of water Tim handed him. Slowly and gently. Making sure his fingers brushed Tim's. And Dick had to swallow a grin.

"That, unfortunately, would be up to the GCPD. Did you guys saw the news? Vicky Vale's article on Damian?" Tim... preened a little, waving his hair as he walked away from Jason. Dick's lips itched, he wondered if Barbara or the other girls -- if Selina or Dinah have noticed this. The two were definitely flirting.

"I have seen it. It had good pictures of my mother and grandfather, and quite... adequate descriptions of both of them." Damian replied. "Evidently father has made a comment to the writer about me looking like him when he was my age."

"Well, you kind of do look like him, except for the green eyes." Dick pointed out. Bruce's eyes were blue - like both his parents. But from the photos of little Brucie around the house, Dick could see a little of Martha Wayne in Damian's still-round face. "When did Bruce make the comment?"

"Oh, Vale called him." Tim snickered. "She still has his personal number, and she commented something about hearing a - quote: 'constipated buffalo sounds in the background' - unquote. She was also wondering if Bruce was in a bullfighting ring somewhere."

"Seriously?" Dick laughed.

"Seriously. Even Barbara couldn't stop laughing hearing that." Tim assured him. Jason rolled his eyes but looking amused, anyway.

"Sooo... a possible off-road accident for the apparent heir is in the books?" Jason suggested.

"I won't put it past Bane. Damian...?" Tim started. But Damian already nodded in acknowledgment.

"I shan't eat anything that is not presented by Todd or Grayson, nor will I frolic the manor on my own. This shall be more to bear witness to your insinuation of my 'child-like' behavior than to take care of me, Drake, as I am quite capable of sustaining my own life." Damian scoffed.

Tim paused visibly for a good two seconds, before nodding, "of course. Furthermore, I can assure you that Alfred is safe, mainly because as a butler, his focal interest would be the actual Waynes. That's in his training - unless an offspring is publicly announced, they are not to be cared for by the Butler. In Wayne Manor, the proverbial child would solely be Bruce - for obvious reasons, and Damian, whom Bruce has publicly acknowledged." Tim explained.

"He was in MI6," Jason remarked. "Alfred, that is. Not Bane. It would be safe to say he's loyal. He told me of the booby traps and that Bane has a daily dose of injection of the steroid-like substance. But I-- we shall prepare you emergency rations - just in case, anyway."

"You guys can always drop by here. And don't think that Damian would be Bane's only target." Tim reminded. "If I was him, I'd take out the big guns - that is you two - first; and then Bruce, because he'll want to be protective of his son; and then Dr and Mrs Wayne last."

"Then I'm afraid you are forgetting one of the members of the household that is most dangerous, Master Tim," a voice spoke; Jason pulled out his gun, Damian automatically hid behind him while pulling out a small dagger.

Dick wanted to lunge right toward the source of the voice until he realized that it was Alfred Pennyworth, both hands raised up to show that he was unarmed.

"How...?" Jason growled, "I didn't hear the front door open."

"Apologies, gentlemen. I should have informed you that there is an underground passageway between the two houses that were once used frequently, but now has all been forgotten." Alfred explained. "You were right that I was in MI6, Jason; as you were right that my focus will and forever shall remain the true Wayne blood, Master Tim. Not ones who claimed as such and refused to provide irrefutable evidence."

"Does Bane know of this passageway?" Tim asked.

"It is located in the staff's wing, and as he is not permitted to be there, I sincerely doubt it," Alfred replied. "I have my own... booby traps and surveillance that should tell me if anyone has been there." he smiled. "I am aware that both of you have prowled the entire house at one point or the other in the past few weeks." he nodded toward Jason and Dick. "You were stealthy, indeed."

"But not stealthy enough?" Dick quipped. "I gotta go back to training... Anyway, why are you here?"

"I saw your vehicle's mishap and its stop here. If anything, Bane is not... stealthy enough." Alfred pulled out a small memory card. "To get to the garage, one must pass the servants' hall. And the garage is my province."

Tim accepted the memory card, plugged it into his cellphone; and then projected its content to a wall. "Huh... this should be enough evidence of tampering..." Tim commented. The memory card showed a clear date stamp - that morning, a few hours before Bane and the Waynes left the house. It also showed Bane himself, jacking the car that was now resting with a dented bumper at Tim's gate, while holding a plier.

"Anyone watching our car now?" Dick commented. "Won't be cool to have it suddenly fixed, will it?"

"Harper should be. Plus, y'all are on my property. If he trespasses, I'll have his ass arrested." Tim huffed. "So... if anyone has ideas--" Jason and Damian's eyes lit up; Tim glared at them and continued "--that do not include sharp and/or exploding objects of how to remove Bane from the Manor..."

"I'm fresh out," Jason replied mournfully. "No sharp objects, no exploding objects... what do you expect me to do? Poison him?"

"But Todd, did my mother not teach you the arts of food as medicine?" Damian piped up.

The sudden silence as all eyes landed on Alfred was quite ominous.

"I will not conduct a crime, young masters," Alfred remarked dryly.

"Oh nooo... not a crime," Jason grinned mischievously. "It's just... you know that Damian was born in the Middle East, yeah?"

"I may have quite a culinary skill, but I fear that my Middle Eastern cuisine knowledge is rather limited," Alfred said demurely.

"Well, mine isn't." Jason grinned. "Besides, what else should one do to celebrate one's entrance into such a distinguished family; but hold a family dinner?"

"You're going to poison him." Dick groaned.

"Not to death!" Jason protested. Dick gave him an unimpressed glare. "Just... to the point where he would realize that he and I have opposing objectives."

"Do let me know of the ingredients you require, Jason." Alfred intoned. "Or perhaps you prefer to shop on your own? I shall fetch a new, un-tampered-with vehicle."

"Oh, please do, Alfred. I doubt we can make a single trip. But they will be fun." Jason replied, grinning.

Dick knew that the sense of foreboding was not in him only. Tim looked like he was contemplating moving away to Alaska.

"For the records, I don't know anything about cooking," Dick said defensively.

"I'm... truly and fully reconsidering my life choices," Tim admitted.

"Oh, don't worry, Drake. Todd was trained by the best," Damian grinned mischievously. "I pity the fools who think him as a brute. I pity the brute who think that small equals weak."

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 4

First   Previous   Next   Ao3

Note:  When italics are in quotations (“”) then Marinette is speaking French. If the italics don't have quotations, that’s people’s thoughts.

---

After patrol, Dick made his way to bed, mulling over the announcement Bruce had made at dinner. When he had seen that picture, he had wanted to join Jason on his Paris killing spree. That girl-Marinette, was it?- seemed to be in need of a better place to stay, and he was happy they could provide it to her. At the same time, he had no idea how to treat a young teenage girl! What does she like? Sports? Dresses? Both? None? He had no idea! As he lay there having a breakdown in a slight panic, he couldn’t force the image of her broken, bloody body out of his head. He wondered what kind of person that sort of assault would turn her into. He had seen greater people snap after such emotional and physical wounds. 

Meanwhile, Jason, Tim and Damian were facing similar dilemmas over the girl in question. 

Jason had no idea how to handle teenagers, especially ones that had been assaulted. Suffering through fucked-up shit like that would definitely leave you with some trauma. He thought to himself. Maybe we should ask her about her boundaries. His coping method involved wearing a red helmet and gallivanting around the rooftops of Gotham, looking for excuses to shoot people. He didn’t exactly think that was the best way to help her out. Sure, he grumbled, I’ll just walk over to her, hand her some Kevlar and a grapple before pushing her off the top of fucking Wayne Enterprises in hopes that she’ll get it right. ‘Cause that’s totally fucking healthy!

Tim on the other hand, was completely and utterly paranoid. Sure, he was definitely worried about that girl, considering that it looked like she had lost a lot of blood; but at the same time, he was worried about exposing their identities to her. Just one slip up, and she would know exactly what the Wayne family did at night. Not to mention that if they ended up getting injured, they’d have to figure out how to hide it from her. As he hacked into her school records, he noticed that she had filed several bullying complaints that had never been acknowledged, as well as a request to transfer classrooms that had been dismissed. Just how corrupt is this school?! He thought to himself as he saw how the principal-Monsieur Damocles- had bent to one girl’s every whim, just because her father was the Mayor! Abuse of power, and ignoring bullying reports? He thought to himself. This is not going to end well for them. With that, he completely launched himself into digging up every bit of dirt he could find on that school and it’s staff; completely forgetting about his original panic over being discovered.

And as for Damian, he was completely furious that there would be another person living in the Manor with them! Not to mention she had to go to Gotham Academy as well! He hadn’t even met this Marinette, and she was already proving to be a pain. 

---

As the day of their Marinette’s arrival dawned bright and clear, four members of the family waited for the arrival of their last member and guest. Bruce was slightly nervous. He had never had a girl so young stay in the Manor before, and he didn’t know how to greet her. Did he shake her hand? Smile and wave? Shake her hand then smile? Wave then shake? 

Dick, however, was full of excitement that their new guest was arriving in a couple of hours. He wondered if she knew any gymnastics, and if she would be willing to do some flexibility-related stretches and workouts with him.

All his other children were scattered throughout the city, doing various different things. Jason was up in the Manor library, reading his latest novel. Tim was in his office at WE, finishing up some paperwork he had wanted to fill out before Marinette arrived. Damian, thankfully, was at school, and wouldn’t be returning until later in the evening.

His thoughts were cut short by Tim’s arrival. As he walked into the kitchen and came back with a large mug of coffee, Jason trudged downstairs, and they all sat around in the living room continuing to work and read as they waited for Marinette and Alfred.

Half an hour later, Bruce was alerted to the gates in front of the Manor opening. They all lined up outside the house and watched as the sleek, black limo pulled up in front of the house. 

They waited patiently as Alfred got out of the car and headed to the trunk before opening it and taking out a suitcase, and what looked like a foldable wheelchair. The four of them were confused. Why would she need a wheelchair? Surely her classmates hadn’t injured her that badly? Their thoughts were cut off by Alfred opening the back door on the opposite side of the car. He bent down and proceeded to open the wheelchair, before wheeling it around to face the family. When they caught their first glimpse of their guest, they were absolutely floored.

They had all seen many worse injuries during their nightly patrols, and several injured children years younger than her, but when they saw Marinette, they were shocked into silence at her battered appearance.

She was a decent height at around 5’ 4”, but compared to Bruce and Jason she was absolutely tiny. She had several dark purple-blue bruises that contrasted sharply with her pale skin as well as an angry gash covered in stitches on her forehead. She also sported a clunky cast and a thick brace on her leg and wrist. With her dark hair pulled into space buns, and blue eyes, as well as how small and bruised she looked, they all felt a rush of protectiveness flood through them when they saw her. 

Their silent shock was interrupted by Jason leaning over to Bruce and whispering angrily “You said her classmates did this to her?!” At his exclamation, the other three tensed in anger at the reminder that her old friends had been the ones to injure her so severely. They were snapped out of their thoughts by Marinette speaking.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Wayne! Thank you for letting me stay in your house with you! I promise I’ll do my best to not be a bother to you and your family.” Her voice was slightly rough from when she had been crying, but she spoke sweetly, and politely. At her statement, Jason jumped in “No problem Pixie Stick! The only nuisance here is the Demon Spawn, and he’s not home yet.” She blinked up at him, before her mouth twitched up into a half-smile. “Thank you, Monsieur. I’m sorry but I didn’t get your name…” she trailed off. 

“Sorry about that Sunshine, he’s Jason, I’m Dick, and the sleep deprived one is Tim.” Dick interjected. “And you don’t have to call us Monsieur, either. Just our names are fine.” 

“Oh okay. Thank you Mister Bruce, and thank you Dick! I’m Marinette, but I’m sure you knew that already. You can call me Mari if you’d like. I’m not very picky about nicknames!” She laughed. 

“Now if the young Masters are done with their introductions, I will gladly show Miss Marinette to her room.” Alfred cut in. “Thank you Monsieur Alfred, that would be wonderful.” The girl in question smiled up at him from her seat in the wheelchair before he wheeled her inside.

---

Marinette thanked Alfred as he wheeled her into her room. He mentioned that someone named “Damian” was at school, and that she would be attending school after she gets adjusted to the time difference. After he left, she opened her bag to let the Kwami out, and waited for their excited chattering to calm down. Once they had quieted, she spoke. “Hey Tikki? Do you think it was wrong to tell Alfred about the Miraculi being active in Paris?” she questioned as she fiddled with the straps on her bag. ”I was just so excited to meet another wielder that everything slipped out!” 

The Kwami was quick to reassure her. “Oh no Marinette, it's okay. SInce you are the Guardian now, you need all the help you can get. And besides, you already recognized each other’s auras, so there was no point in trying to hide it!” She flew up to her face and patted her unbruised cheek gently. 

“Oh no! I completely forgot to tell Alfred that I’m the Guardian!” She shrieked. “What if he gets mad at me for being too inexperienced?! He’ll kick me out and I’ll have to live on the streets! Then I’ll end up becoming part of the Crime Alley hierarchy, living alone in an abandoned building with a stray cat named Tommy! Tikki this is a disaster! A disaster!!” She would have continued to ramble in french, if it wasn't for the fact that Wayzz had flown up to her and reminded her that she needed to shower because she had been on an airplane and in the airport.

Several curses, near falls, and plastic cast coverings later, Marinette limped out of the shower, exhausted but clean. She quickly tied her hair onto a messy bun before changing into warm leggings (although she couldn’t fully pull one side down due to her cast) and a sweater. Gotham was cold! She let the Kwami roam around her giant room as she put her clothes into her closet. 

After settling in, she plugged in her phone and texted her friends. 

FashionableBug: Just got everything organized and took a shower. Turns out M. Wayne has four kids! I met Dick, Jason and Tim, and apparently Damian is at school. 

QueenofMean: Maribug! How dare u not text us as soon as you arrived! Ur plane landed over three hours ago! 

Snakey Boi: Chlo’s right, Mari. We were all worried bout u.

FahsionableBug: Sorry u guys. Everything was going so fast I completely 4got!

FashionableBug: Also I met a Peacock wielder!!!!!!!

You’reUnderAgreste: Really?! Buginette thats amazingggg

DragonGurl: Wonderful news indeed, Mari. They must have lots of advice for you.

QueenofMean: !!!!!! 

QueenofMean: Nettie thats awesome!!!!!!

SnakeyBoi: Thats totally great!

SnakeyBoi: Also who is it???

FashionableBug: lol Luka its Alfred their butler. Tho hes more like a grandfather

FashionableBug: Anyways, I’m going to go find the kitchen. I wanna make the Kwami some macarons!

FashionableBug: Bye!!!

DragonGurl: Bye Marinette.

You’reUnderAgreste: Bye Bugaboo!

QueenofMean: Bye Bug!

SnakeyBoi: Bye Mari!

Marinette smiled as she put her phone down. Glancing over at the Kwami flying around the room, she stretched before calling out “I’m going to see if I can bake in the kitchen. Do any of you want to join me?” Before she had even finished her sentence Tikki and Kaalki were flying over to her and nestling in her bun. Laughing at their antics, she maneuvered herself into the chair before wheeling herself down the hall. She hadn’t gone very far when she bumped into Alfred walking out of another door. "Salut, Monsieur Alfred! Would you mind showing me where the kitchen is? I was thinking of making some sweet treats for my...friends.” At her statement, Tikki and Kaalki poked their heads out of her bun to wave, before hiding again. Smiling, Alfred turned to her and spoke. “Of course Guardian. Right this way.”  Her eyes darted to meet his hesitantly. “You aren’t mad that I’m the Guardian?” Alfred paused and looked her directly in the eyes. “Miss Marinette, I am in no way questioning your capabilities as a Guardian. You are very powerful, and I have no doubt you will do an amazing job. I am simply upset over how you seem to have no Mentor or any form of Guidance to help you.” Sighing in relief, she smiled. “Well, my old Master lost his memories because he had to give up his memories after being compromised. I do have the Grimoire though, and I was also hoping you would help me as well?” She questioned, looking up at him hesitantly. As they walked into the kitchen, he bowed to her and stated “It would be my greatest honor to assist you, Great Guardian.” She laughed and thanked him before beginning to bake. 

She hummed a simple melody designed to bring about calm and peace, and soon she was happily working in her own tranquil little bubble. 

An hour later, as she was frosting the little pastries, Jason walked in, drawn by the smell of sugar and freshly baked goods. “Hey Alfred! What cooki-” he cut himself off. “Sorry Pixie Stick, I thought you were Alfred. Only he can make something worth eating in this house!” 

“Oh it’s no problem Jason, I was just making macarons. My parents own a bakery, so I’m kinda used to just baking whenever.” She laughed softly

“Damn Pixie, macarons?! You haven’t been here a day, and you’re already much nicer than all my asshole brothers!” 

“Yeah, well these are for after dinner, so no touching ‘till then!” She warned.

He sat at the counter and scrolled through his phone as she decorated the pastries. Soon enough, she had them all completed and proceeded to carefully take the tray and wheel over to the fridge. Before she could move an inch, Jason had leapt up and placed the tray in its designated spot. “Sorry Pix, but I’ll get that for ya. We don’t need you accidentally crashing or dropping these heavenly treats!” He laughed.

She crossed her arms and pouted up at him, before her mouth stretched into a wide grin. As she wheeled herself into the dining room, she swiftly turned her head and stuck her tongue out before disappearing through the door into the room beyond.

---

Dinner with the Wayne family was a rambunctious affair. Dick and Jason bantered good-naturedly over their meals as Bruce sighed tiredly in the background. Tim moved lethargically, downing giant gulps of coffee as he ate his meal. Damian apparently was studying with his friend Jon, and therefore wouldn't be eating with them. They all smiled and laughed as they talked through dinner. Marinette told them about her friends, before adding that they’d probably video call her tomorrow so they could meet the family. Bruce assured her that it was not a problem and added that he would be glad to speak with her parents. After eating, she headed up to her room to work on the outfit she had been sketching on the plane. 

She immersed herself in designing, and ended up finally going to sleep shortly after midnight. The Kwami flew over to their little nest of pillows and blankets, and she turned off the lights before drifting off to sleep. Her dreams were plagued by nightmares of looming shadows and ethereal dark butterflies destroying the world in fire. She watched in helpless terror, stuck in her Ladybug persona, unable help as the world burned. The horrific dreamscape was shattered by the sound of her phone blaring out an Akuma alarm. 

She leaped out of bed and shut off the shrill noise as she called for Tikki and Kaalki before leaping through the portal and into Paris.

She ended up in a ravaged, unrecognizable landscape covered in flames. Looks like her dream had been semi-accurate after all. The Eiffel Tower was partially melted, and fires were cropping up all over the city. The four simultaneous thuds behind her signified the arrival of her team. As one they looked upon their ravaged city and charged the Akuma.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 22

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month

Hating LIla is apparently a family trait

First< Previous > Next

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

“Uh I hate this,” Chloe picks at her uniform like it's a disgusting growth.

“I think you look as nice as you always do,” Marion says cheerfully, turning around on his seat to look back at her and Kagami.

“Marion that is by far the worst you have ever insulted me,”

“It was a complement-” Marion doges her whack.

“Marinette! Hit your brother for me,” Chloe demands, standing up to try and reach him.

“It’s more gratifying if you do it yourself, trust me,” Marinette flicks through her phone, not bothering to look up, “I can pin your uniform to look more flattering if you like,”

“Nette you are the best!” Chloe hugs her from behind, awkward to be sure with the seat and all, yep that's the only reason, not Kagami's death glare that can be felt through the seat.

“Oh Marinette you can also pin mine,” Lila asks, as sweetly as acid, “Or weren't you going to offer the rest of the class?”

“No actually Lila she wasn't,” Marion sneers, ignoring Marinette trying to pull him back into the seat, “As I’ve made it quite clear none of you are our friends, so she isn’t obligated to do anything for you,”

“That’s so mean,” Lila sniffles, everyone is too busy feeling guilty to comfort her.

“Weren't you friends with MDC Lila?” Marion asks as sweetly as acid, “Why not try asking them?"

With that Marion turns back to his seat and starts scrolling through his phone, ignoring Lila's attempts at guilting. He gets a notification from Marinette.

I can speak for myself  

U can nicely tell them no- I  can tell them to fck off

That wasn't very nice

Im done with nice

Whats wrong?

Marion looks up seeing Marinette looking over him concerned, he sighs and texts back.

Nervous

Dont worry Bruce hasn't told them yet

Its going to be awkward

We’ll get through it- Pound it?

Marion looks back up, Marinette is smiling at him holding out her hand.

“Pound it,”

They pull up to the school, the grandiose of Wayne academy is nothing to sneeze at. Brick buildings, iron work, Marion has to force Marinette to put her sketchbook away. They are escorted around the campus by a student. They’ll be split up and put into a range of different classes to make the best out of their week there.

“3 o’clock,” Marinette bumps into him, Marion lets his gaze slide over, spotting Damian.

“Wasn't Lila saying on the way over here that she was great friends with him?”

“Mari don't,” Marinette hisses, tugging at his sleeve, “It’s weird enough without pulling him in to our grudge match,”

“Nothing bonds siblings more than a mutual hatred of Lila, exhibit A,” He points back and forth between them, “I’m going to do it,”

“Don't you dare-”

“Hey Damian!” Marion shouts, waving his hand for the entire hallway to turn and stare.

Damian turns around with a scowl, hardly lessening when he spots them.

“Marion, just what do you think you’re doing,” Kagami scolds, as Damian stalks over.

“Lila,” Marion smirks back, looking over to the girl who pales at an actual Wayne walking over, apparently she had actually decided to look up what they look like.

“Oh this is going to be good,” Chloe steps back, content to watch the show.

“Hey Dami,” Marion goes to sling an arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t call me Dami,” Damian sidesteps his attempt, preferring to stand closer to Marinette.

“How’s Cat-fred?” Marion smiles, getting Damian’s scowl to lessen slightly, so he smiles brighter.

“He’s doing well,”

“Good good…” Marion shuffles, no longer able to look directly at him, “How’s the family?”

Marinette gives him a sideways look that clearly says ‘you did this to yourself’.

“Why are you asking?” Damian narrows his eyes, and Marion knows he fucked up.

Nette help please!

“I wanted to know when I can come over next for a rematch,” Marinette gracefully lets him off the hook.

“Evidently sparring at the manor is at risk of interruption,” Damian notes, deep in thought, “We should plan an alternative meeting space,”

“That sounds great,” Marinette smiles, catching Damian in between their grins.

Damian just nods and walks away, Marion smiles and waves.

“You’re an idiot,” Marinette punches him in the shoulder, getting him to lower his arm.

“We’ve established that, thanks,” Marion rubs his shoulder with a pout, “However look over there,”

Lila having an aneurysm, surrounded by the class berating her with questions.

“Worth it,” Marion grins, going for a subtle fist bump.

“Agreed,” Marinette returns the gesture.

“Lila why didn’t you say hi?”

“Why didn’t he say hi?”

“He must not have seen me,” Lila’s lip quivers in a practiced motion, “Marinette was standing in front of me,”

“Or were you hiding behind Marinette?” Marion calls over, actually voluntarily walking towards the beast.

“What?! Of course I wasn't!” Lila shouts, her glare sending him a clear warning, one he was fully prepared to ignore.

“Then why didn’t you just move?” Marion asks oh so innocently.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Lila sounds shy but her face screams murder, as people hang around to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Then you were doing it to be polite and complaining about Marinette is quite rude,” Marion has to hold back a smirk as he hears an ‘oh snap’ from his audience.

“I- you!-”

“That’s nice Lila,” Marinette interrupts, walking away like the badass she is, “How about we get to class,”

Marion goes to class, having the fortune to be lumped in with Lila. And yes he does mean fortune because while Lila is trying to brag and get the students under her thumb they are happily ignoring her, focusing instead on Marion’s tips for learning French. When Lila switches tactics saying she can speak Italian Marion switches over to fluent Italian, something he had learned from his Nona. He then breaks out his Mandarin, daring Lila to try and fake knowing a language.

Lila goes quite, just kidding you know that's not true. She starts to pull students aside whispering to them. Marion isn't sure if she is intentionally loud enough that he can hear her or if it’s just his enhanced hearing.

“He’s a bully, I know he’s just trying to act nice to get something out of you,” Lila warns a student who looks disgruntled to have basically been pulled into the corner away from the group.

“He’s a Wayne?” Ah so he’s heard the not-so rumour, “What could I possibly have that he doesn't?”

“He’s not a Wayne!” Lila snaps, before regaining her composure, “I actually know the Waynes,”

“... because they’re in your class?”

“No!” She stops her foot, “They made up that rumour! I know because I’m personal friends with all the Waynes,”

“Alright show a picture,” The guy shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, Marion reminds himself to give them the award of ‘you’re smarter than everyone in my class, it's not much but it’s something!’.

“ What? ” Lila seethes, looking ready to tear his eyeballs out to have an excuse not to show him.

“All I’m saying is I’ve seen multiple pictures of them with the Waynes plus, I heard that they actually talked to Damian Wayne this morning!” He actually looks in awe at this fact.

“I would hardly call that a conversation,” Lila crosses her arms, looking to the side like a child.

“No you don't understand!” He employers making a wild hand gesture as if trying to show how amazing it is, “He’s the ice prince, if someone else calls his name or even tried to talk to him he would just ignore them, but he actually walked over and talked to them,”

“He saw me-”

“Look I don’t really care, this argument isn't worth having,” The guy puts up placating hands, the gesture having the exact opposite effect on Lila, “Marion seems cool, Wayne or not, so yeah,”

Marion tries not to smile as one by one Lila is shot down. Her anger rising so high Marion is sure she would have been akumatized three times over by now.

“Hey what's with Lila, she seems to have it out for you?” The first guy to talk to her whispers, turns out his name is James and was very confused when Marion gifted him a small paper trophy.

“Oh she does,” Marion shrugs, filling out the worksheet idly.

“Ok… why?” James presses, the small paper trophy sitting on his desk.

“Hmmm…” Marion leans back, tipping his seat, “It’s a paradox,”

“What is?”

“If I tell you the truth, you’ll probably think I’m lying and her accusations will seem more believable,” Marion reasons, looking up at the ceiling, “If I fake ignorance, you’ll probably just take her word for it, seems like a trap,”

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” James shakes his head, and Marion cracks a grin.

“Sorry, just happy to have some new friends,” His smile lessens, becoming melancholy, “It’s been awhile,”

“What? But you’re so,” James makes another one of his wild hand gestures,  “ Nice ,”

Marion just shrugs, but some people notice how he quickly glances over at Lila talking with someone else. Any further questions are cut off by the bell.

“Well, seems that's our cue to leave, now tell me are American school lunches really as bad as I’m led to believe?”

“You poor little french boy,” James shake his head,  “You have no idea the horrors you will face,”

“This is so much worse than I thought it would be,” Marion looks down at his tray in disgust, “This is a private school?”

“I told you so,” James shrugs, walking through the cafeteria to find a seat.

“Hold up a sec,” Marion says, spotting Damian, not talking but rather trying to ignore someone talking to him, “Dami!”

“Don’t call me Dami,” Damian pushes Marion off him this time, the person who was talking to him looks shocked that his arms aren’t broken.

He puts his tray on the table and grabs Damian's shoulders.

“I have an urgent problem,”

“Cheng-Dupain, from what I know of you that is a massive exaggeration,” Damian brushes him off again and Marion’s scared the other kid is having a heart attack, “Now stop bothering me, it can wait for later,”

“I didn’t take any pictures of Cat-fred!” Marion cries, flopping onto Damian, who doesn't bother pushing him off a third time.

“... Understandable,” Damian snatches Marion’s phone, letting Marion input the code over his shoulder, “This is an oversight on your part,”

“So you’ll send some to me?” Marion grins, using Damian’s head as an armrest as he watches him enter his number.

“Yes,” Damian passes Marion’s phone back and Marion grabs his food.

“Great, see you later!” Marion stands up, ruffling Damian's hair before leaving.

“What was that!?” He hears the other person shout as he walks away.

“What was that?!” James yells, and whoops the entire cafeteria is staring between him and Damian.

“Do you ever learn from your mistakes?” Marinette asks, materialising beside him.

“No?” Marion scoffs, putting his and on his hip, “Why would I?”

“Are you actually siblings?” James still looks in shock but at least he isn’t gaping and gasping for air anymore.

“Yes?” Of course they were siblings, they are twins? Is that not clear?

“God-fucken dammit Mari!” Marinette hisses, “That’s not what they meant!”

“Oh,” Marion says softly, totally not jumping as Damian materialises next to him.

“Cheng-Dupain, it was this absentminded nature that caused this rumour to get out of hand in the first place,”

“Yeah… you are going to have to be way more specific,” Marion looks around the whole cafeteria is still staring at them, trading whispers.

“No we are not related, that is a baseless rumour,” Damian glares at James, making him recoil.

“Right… baseless,” Marion mumbles, getting kicked in the shin by Marinette.

“Adopted then?” James foolishly asks.

“ No ,” and yep now James looks afraid for his life.

“Haha, you know you don’t have to seem so offended by that?” Marion slings his arm around Damian’s shoulder, silently rejoicing that he only gets a withered glare this time.

“Like I said,” Lila’s voice carries over the still quite cafeteria, “The Waynes were telling me how they hate that rumour, the meer idea they are connected to the twins is-”

“ Excuse me ,” Damian slams his hand down on the table, right next to Lila making her jump out of her skin,  “But who are you, and why do you think you know anything about my family and what we think,”

“I just-”

“You presume you’re of enough importance to understand my feelings towards the matter?” Damian stands tall and looks down his nose at her, “You aren’t,”

“Lila,” Alya whispers to her as Damian walks away, “I think you should just let them sort it out, it’s a family matter,”

“Who is that?” Damian demands when he gets back to them, “And how do I destroy her?”

“Don’t worry about it Damian, she's just doing it to get attention,” Marinette explains calmly.

“Lila Rossi,” Marion has other plans, “She’s a Liar, provide proof she doesn't know your family or anyone for that matter and she will be destroyed,”

Damian gives a curt nod and walks away, back to his friend who is still gaping like the rest of the room.

“ Mari ,” Marinette smacks him.

“I merely shared my wisdom,” Marion stroke his invisible beard, “What he chooses to do with it is up to him,”

“Ugh, that was a long day,” Plagg groans, curling up in the middle of his pillow.

“Plagg you slept in my bag the whole time,” Marion flops onto his bed, and it wasn't over they had to go on patrol soon.

“Which is far more disruptive than a bed,” Plagg complains, letting Marion curl up next to him, “Not comfortable at all,”

“Speaking of not being comfortable…” Marinette trails off, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Our brother insisting we aren’t related?” Marion curls around to look over at her.

“Very strange feeling,” Marinette nods, absentmindedly pulling her feet onto the bed.

“He yelled at Lila,” Marion smiles up at the ceiling.

“Does that make him an honorary Dupain-slash-Cheng?” Marinette smiles over at him.

“Yeah…” Marion’s grin drops, “... Or Dupain/Cheng/Wayne,”

“... You want to tell them?” Marinette asks in her horrible tone that reminds him of being back in Paris and trying to stifle emotions.

“I mean, yeah,” He sits up, crossing his legs, “They’re family right? I want to know them, do you?”

“He seemed upset when they called us siblings,” Marinette turns to face him, the Kwamis watching their little meeting from the outside.

“He seemed more upset with Lila, said he was insulted by it,” Marion reasons, he feels like they’re back in Paris dressed as Ladybug and Chat Noir having three in the morning conversations on rooftops.

“It’s Lila, anything she says can piss someone off,” Marinette sighs, flopping back on the bed, destroying the illusion, “Tikki what do you think?”

“This is a decision you have to make on your own Marinette,” Tikki advises sagely.

“Tiiikkkiiiiii,” Marinette whines like a three year old

“Alright, I never had a family but I have the other Kwamis,” Tikki concedes, explaining to the twins giving her all their attention, “I am separated from Nooro and Dussu, and if family feels like them I do not want you to be separated,”

“What if they get mad?” Marinette asks, fidgeting.

“Then you’ll find a way to work through it,” Tikki smiles at them, “You’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, there isn’t anything you can’t do,”

“Just do it kid!” Plagg shouts, giving up on pretending to nap, “If it turns out bad at least you know!”

“Plagg!”

“What is it Sugar Cube?” Plagg asks sweetly, getting chased out the room moments later.

“So, we doing this?” Marion asks, after all their Kwamis have left.

“I guess so,” Marinette shugs, bringing out her phone, Marion holds her hand for comfort as they wait for the phone to ring.

“Hello?” Bruce picks up on the third ring.

“Hey Bruce,” Marion says, sounding strained even to himself.

“Marinette, Marion,” Bruce answers, pleasantly surprised, “Is everything alright?”

“How do you feel about telling everyone else?” Marion cuts straight to the chase, he can’t be bothered to run.

“... are you sure?” Marion can feel Marinette tension grow at the question, “I want to but they’ll all be surprised, it might ruin your trip,”

“We got sent to the hospital the first week being here,” Marion reasons, he should technically still be on bed rest.

“... That's true,”

“So?” He prompts after a too long pause.

“When do you want to tell them?”

“Tomorrow,” Marinette speaks up for the first time.

Well I guess that's that

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd

[the-navistar-carol]

A Daminette songfic — ‘Invisible Thread’ by Matt Gould

From the marvelous Maribat AU of @ozmav, @maribat-archive where u at

Inspired by the Maribat Discord :))

Everyone had a soulmate. A black mark where they would first touch. Once the two did, the mark would blossom with color.

People would go for years with black marks on their knuckles, thinking it was from a punch, and then have their knuckles brush someone on the subway and voilá, their mark would change.

Some were more obvious, a handprint over their own (a high-five), a hand on their arm, or even one directly across their face.

~~~

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had no such obvious case. Her handprint was directly over her fingers of her right hand, as though someone had shook her hand (but only her fingers). Without a doubt, it confused her.

Once she became Ladybug, she met Chat Noir. Upon their first meeting, he took her hand directly over her soulmate mark and attempted to kiss her hand, but she had pushed him away. After the akuma attack, she had detransformed in a panic to check her hand, and in relief, found her hand was still uncolored.

The mark was still black.

It worried her, then, after her crush on Adrien started, that he did not turn her mark colors either.

So who was it?

Not like she’d ever meet who it was.

There is a long invisible thread

That wraps around my heart

And wraps around your head

Damian Wayne had an odd soulmate mark that was, thankfully, easy to hide via gloves. The black silhouettes of fingers in his right hand confused him, so he gave it little thought. Who even shakes hands like that?

During his training both with Ra’s al Ghul and the Robins, none of the ways anybody had touched his hand had made the mark change, thankfully. Soulmates were a nasty business, anyway. They were almost expected to drop everything upon meeting. Dumb.

Not that he cared who it was.

It tightens its grip

When things go unsaid

And I can't break free

Lila, upon her return to Ms. Bustier’s class, had successfully turned the class against Marinette. She made good on her promise, but allowed Marinette to keep her spot as class president — only useful when she was needed, of course, and expected to drop everything for them without looking for anything in return.

She was effectively that one tool in a closet that only was picked up when needed, and discarded as soon as she had lost her use.

She couldn’t reverse the way things had gone. If only.

Let go, let me

Little boy, break free

Leave him out on his own

Let him find his way home

When Damian had become the next Robin, he had fought many people under the mask. But his black marks underneath his gauntlets never changed, even when he met new people at charity galas and shook hands.

Clearly, his soulmate wasn’t anybody he was going to meet anytime soon.

Not that it bothered him anyway. It did.

Can't take all this pain on his shoulders

Only weighs you all down when you're older

Chat Noir had come up to her, demanding she stop pretending. Pretending that they weren’t soulmates, that they weren’t in love, that they didn’t make a good couple.

He deserved her, he had yelled. He had been nothing but loyal, hadn’t he? A good cat? So, as a reward, he deserved her love. Her lips, her hands, her body.

He didn’t. And she told him so, exploding at him atop a roof despite the paparazzi growing below.

They made sure to catch his outburst, too. It served him right.

He treated the fame of being a superhero like a game. It was only fair that he dealt with the consequences.

Let them take their pictures.

Let him run, let him fly

If you love him, then don't cry tonight

Let him learn all he can

The cameras at Wayne galas and other nonsense never bothered him. They would be pointed at him anyway, so what difference did it make if he paid attention?

Flashes of white lights were only peripheral at this point, the snaps of shutters something to be tuned out.

The tabloids would run rampant anyway. Whether it was Grayson or Todd or Drake making the headlines with their antics, he would be shoved in there anyway.

Let them take their pictures.

So when he comes home to you

He'll be a better man

When she had proposed a class outing, the class had suggested many things, but Lila had thought of karaoke, so that was that. Of course, it was all up to her to plan the outing, raise funds, and reserve places.

She had asked the class to help her out, but Lila had oh-so-innocently wondered that since her family ran a bakery, couldn’t they just maybe give a few away to help their daughter raise the money?

Never mind the fact that they would be losing money. Never mind the fact that it would stress her out more than necessary. Never mind the fact that no one person should have to run their entire outing by herself.

But Marinette was their everyday Ladybug. That should be enough to cover any problem.

But they were looking for a miraculous cure. Who in the world had one for these situations?

Certainly not her.

There is a long invisible thread

That wraps around my heart

And wraps around your head

When Damian heard that his brothers and Father were going to Paris, his original thought was one of disgust. Of course, he spoke French. But any Romance language or country made him want to vomit. Latin lovers? Please. But France, the country dubbed one of love? Absolutely not.

But it was for a League reason, something to do with a supervillain with magic butterflies. It probably wasn’t even real.

But Paris meant his brothers teasing him about love, which infuriated him to no end. Who cared if he met someone the universe deemed his match?

Certainly not him.

It tightens its grip

When things go unsaid

And I can't break free

She had the dates figured out, triple-checked with her classmates to make sure it all worked together. Thankfully, the class had agreed to help fundraise for once. A small relief in the grand scheme of things.

Patrols now were such a chore. Where she had once enjoyed swinging through Paris’s streets with only her yo-yo to hold her up and the wind teasing through her hair, there was now a demanding Chat Noir, proclaiming her as his soulmate and he should be treated as such.

Akuma fights took so much longer and so much out of her now. Chat would watch from the sidelines, taunting her with the fact that he would join in from now on if she only gave up the delusions that they weren’t meant to be.

The gauntleted fist in his stomach was so worth it.

Sadly, it hadn’t come from her.

Lord above, can you hear my prayers

If you know the answer, then make me aware

How to still love him and how to still care

And how to stay strong when I want to be over there

Upon his first investigation in Paris, he had come across an akuma victim. It wasn’t hard to find, actually, as it left a trail of destruction in its wake.

Apparently, Paris already had two superheroes clad in Spandex, Ladybug and Chat Noir. Any information he had found on the latter was increasingly negative, if videos on the Ladyblog (God, that was a dumb name) were to be believed.

The first encounter he had had with the duo was subpar. Far, far below the bar.

The increasingly negative press on Chat Noir was completely accurate. Which was why he’d immediately punched him in the gut and gone up against the akuma, giving Ladybug a chance to rest.

“The akuma?”

She started, surprised that he would know of those. “The locket! It’s on her bracelet—”

Smash.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly.”

He shook hands with Ladybug, introduced himself as Robin, and updated her that the Justice League was looking into the Hawkmoth problem.

It had felt good to punch that brat of a cat. He had a feeling Ladybug would have enjoyed it more.

Sadly, it hadn’t come from her.

Do I run, do I fly?

How can I love him and keep my eyes dry

Do I learn all I can

The next day left Marinette in shock as she prepared for the karaoke night with her class. In all honesty, she would probably be left alone. Again.

But when she showed up, they initially welcomed her, to her pleasant surprise. But it couldn’t last. As soon as she had gone to the bathroom, they had gone into the room and not told her the number.

So she was left in the main room, pathetically sitting at a table by the stage, twirling a microphone she’d nicked from the stands.

Not like she could sing with anyone.

So when he comes home

I'll be a better man

Grayson had had the marvelous idea to go to a karaoke place. Abhorable. Not like he would even sing. The entire idea was dumb. Incredibly dumb. Who, in their right mind, would go and sing in front of people completely sober? (Not like he could drink legally, anyway.)

But when he got there, it was a bit more welcoming. All the rooms were taken, they were told, so there was only a communal stage left. No matter, Grayson grinned, and led them toward the main room. There were already a number of people there, taking turns on the stage.

He sat back in his chair, and prepared to sit back and enjoy the view.

Not like he would sing with anyone.

There is a long invisible thread

That wraps around my heart

And wraps around your head

A number of people went by before she did, and when she got up there, she selected a song that would usually be considered a duet, shrugging that she would sing it herself.

What she hadn’t expected was for a trio of black-haired boys to practically drag a fourth over to the stage, hand him a microphone, and place him next to her with positively wicked grins.

He looked like he wanted to leave. Marinette offered him a sympathetic half-smile. “That’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine.” His voice was tinged with visible reluctance, but he took the microphone from its stand. “Just sing.” He was cute, she admitted, but would probably forget her after the night.

So she did.

It tightens its grip

When things go unsaid

And I can't break free

Dumb karaoke. Dumb brothers. Dumb Father, for bringing him to Paris. And it didn’t help that the girl hid certain mortification. But he wasn’t going to back down and show weakness to his brothers. “Just sing.” And get this over with.

When she began to sing, it sent a jolt through his body. She didn’t even need to read the lyrics, voice something that could only be described as melodic. Hell, she sounded better than some professionals.

After the first verse or so, she nervously glanced at him, as if making sure he was still there and hadn’t taken off into the night. Damian shrugged in response, waiting for his turn.

It came up, and he gave his voice to the music. Grayson was definitely recording.

The girl at his side, a pretty black-haired girl who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, flinched as though she had been shocked. His singing wasn’t that bad, he groused, but kept at it anyway.

His brothers had pushed him up there as a challenge, taunting him to do it.

So he did.

There is a long invisible thread

That wraps around my heart

And wraps around your head

Wow, she mused. Cute and a good voice. When she added his voice to hers in the first true duet part, their singing harmonized into something truly remarkable. Is this even my voice?

In a sudden burst of courage, she spun, pleated skirt adding to the movement.

Her classmates started to trickle out of their room, as if wondering who was singing. She could see Rose, Juleka, Alya, and the courage vanished in a heartbeat.

Oh no.

It tightens its grip

When things go unsaid

And I can't break free

Suddenly, the girl next to him spun, a giddy smile beginning to form. Somehow, he was beginning to enjoy this, too. Curses. Maybe he had been drugged.

But her spin stopped, voice faltering, and he quickly followed her gaze. A group of teenagers had exited one of the rooms, looking up to the stage, no doubt causing her to waver.

So he took her hand and spun her, certainly not missing the way her face lit up in a dazzling smile.

As soon as he released her hand, she took it again and spun him. A laugh nearly bubbled up (yeah, he had to be drugged). She was half a foot shorter, and yet she did it anyway.

Those people who had made her hesitate wouldn’t ruin her night, at least.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

Oh, no.

There is a long invisible thread

That wraps around my heart

And wraps around your head

A burst of warmth blossomed in her right hand as she danced with the stranger, voice strengthening by the note. Marinette met his jade-green eyes with a smile, left hand clutching the microphone.

For tonight, at least, maybe she could forget about her classmates and Lila and Chat Noir.

Hopefully it would last.

It tightens its grip

When things go unsaid

Her enthusiasm had returned, Damian noted, and her excitement was definitely leeching into him, too. His right hand was warm, but he chalked it up to her hand. He didn’t sweat, at least not in a karaoke bar.

For this song, at least, maybe he could ignore his brothers’ antics and the seriousness of the League.

He knew it wouldn’t last.

And I can't break free

As the song died out, Marinette dropped his hand, the movement causing her to catch her breath. Oh God.

Her soulmate mark had changed. From the blackest black, it was colored in a beautiful blend of red, green, and gold.

It’s him.

And I can't break free

He didn’t miss her gasp, glancing back to catch her reaction as she stared at her right hand — now colored in reds, greens, and golds. His colors.

He didn’t miss a beat to check his own right hand, eyes only widening as he found the mark swirled in blues, pinks, and silvers.

It’s her.

And I can't break free

[crazyfreckledginger]

Damian Wayne x Reader - "Claws Are Coming Out"

When Damian’s brothers find out that he likes you, they tease him endlessly but still help him try to get you to like him as well, what no body expected, however, was that the cat you rescued, Montey, who loved you unconditionally also felt very protective of you and cockblocked the two of you, not wanting you to like Damian. Will you manage to return his feelings?

Requested by anon: “ I think the asks are open if not ignore this but I was hoping that u could write about Damian liking this Colombian girl that rescued a cat when she was ten. The only problem is that the cat is very protective of her so he (the cat is a male named Montey) doesn’t like Damian. Also could u make the girl nice. I’m sorry if I seem to specific it’s just that I’m the rules it says to be specific and I wouldn’t mind if u changed parts. U don’t have to write this it you don’t want to. Thank u.”

A/N: I didn’t include the Colombian part because I want as many people to identify as they want so I kept it neutral, hope you like it! 

"We're nearly there, sweetheart,"

Despite her protests, her father still thought it was safer for her to stay at one of his friends houses.

And this friend of his happened to be Bruce Wayne. They met at a meeting, having had an accord with each other at Wayne Enterprise in order to cut down at the waste they were producing.

After a year or so of knowing each other, they merged their companies, finding out they had the same aims and morales.

Thankfully for (Y/N), she didn't have to meet him regularly. The girl found him too intimidating, was it because of his demeanour or position of power? She never knew -- and she didn't want to stick around too long to find out.

Even as an adult, he couldn't help but rub the wrong way off of her.

And yet now, here you were, going to spend the week with him and apparently, his sons when her father doesn't trust the neighbourhood enough to leave his daughter there. He made sure the house was secure, but he didn't want her walking out alone there to and from her work, if something happened, he wouldn't know until her parents got back.

"Please come back soon," the girl's eyes softened as her father tapped his fingertips lightly against the wheel, fixating the Wayne Manor gate gradually opening.

"We will baby, just hang in there until then, I know you don't like Bruce, but trust me, he's a good man. Although I suspect he's hiding something from me," he trailed off, deep in thought. He soon snapped out of it and followed the path before parking the car.

The girl released a breath as she got out of the vehicle. This place looked even bigger from outside the car.

"Welcome, Master (L/N), and you must be Lady (Y/N)." A British accent voice beside them. She peeked around the trunk door, her fingers tight around her suitcase as her father moved to him.

"Alfred, it's great to see you again!"

"Come, Montey," the girl whispered before closing the trunk. The small furball purred, jumping up the backseat and crawling between the small opening before it pounced on her chest.

Effortlessly, she caught her trusted friend and kept him securely in her arms.

Her other hand grasped her suitcase and she dragged it behind her towards the beautiful marble stairs.

She watched as her father casually pressed the car key, only glancing momentarily to make sure the boot was closing automatically.

"It's nice to meet you," (Y/N) gave the butler a polite smile even if she was becoming increasingly anxious at the unfamiliar environment.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you as well," He returned the smile, "my name is Alfred, and I am Bruce Wayne's butler. This way please." He opened the door wider and escorted the pair in. (Y/N) was taken aback from the splendid chandelier hanging over the beautifully paved hallway.

"I noticed to have a cat with you Miss (Y/N)," he stated.

"Yes I do, I'm sorry if it gives you more work, I'll make sure he stays tidy, he makes me feel more comfortable," she blurted out. The older man chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"I assure you Miss, it is no worried at all. Master Damian is quite fond of animals as well, I merely wanted to inquire about it's name," he sent her a reassuring smile.

"Oh," she sighed in relief, blushing a little bit of embarrassment, "his name is Montey,"

"A name that fits him well," he praised.

"I can show Miss (Y/N) to her room, I understood through Master Bruce that you have a plane to catch. I assure you, your daughter is in good and safe hands," the butler nodded.

Already, the woman started to feel at ease. Alfred started to slowly wash away her uneasiness. He seemed very reassuring.

"Thank you very much Alfred," your father grinned before he turned to his daughter.

"Stay safe for us alright, we won't be long, we will pick you up was soon as we're back,"

"Alright," (Y/N) breathed out, hugging him tightly. She watched him as he pulled away from her, waving at her before parting, disappearing behind the closing door.

"Are you always this scared?" A cold voice spoke bitterly from a high place. Her eyed peeled towards the grand staircase, seeing a slightly familiar face at the top. He had a scowl on his face, he seemed to be in permanent disgust at every thing that was within eye shot.

"Master Damian, watch your manners," Alfred scolded, grasping the girl's bag despite her protests and marching up the stairs and giving a disapproving look to the blood son.

"I get nervous in areas I'm unfamiliar with," she replied softly, hugging the cat tightly. She didn't want to get on anyone's bad side so soon after arriving -- not that she really wanted to be. Either he was acting spoiled because of this wealth or something happened to him for him to become so cold and distant. She learned to try and understand people before judging them. She had Montey to thank for that. If she didn't find him in the state he was in when she first found him, she could never have understood why he kept his distance and scratched anyone who got so close.

*****

And that is how the both of them met. They were close for countless months now. He was also going to Gotham University, which is why she was sure she had seen his face before, and, despite the different programs they were on, they still managed to make time for each other. Over the time they spent together, Damian noticed how his feelings for (Y/N) were slowly morphing into something more than friends -- but he didn't want to act on it, he didn't know what the outcome could be.

"Awwwww does little demon spawn have a crush~" Jason ruffled his hair annoyingly.

"Quit it or I'll kill you!!" He slapped his hand away and readjusted his hair.

Dick grinned at the pair, chuckling, "you'd be cute together, she's sooooo sweet,"

"Grayson!!" He grunted, "Don't you have other people to piss off??"

"Why? Because she's going to be here any minute now?" Tim snorted. Damian glared daggers at his older brother before they all pulled away and acted nonchalantly once the door opened.

"Oh hey guys, what are you up to?" (Y/N) beamed at them as Montey jumped down at her feet.

"Hey bud," Jason crouched down to scratch the kitty's neck, who purred happily in response.

"Hey (Y/N)," Dick and Tim waved before grasping Jason's collar and pulling him away to another room.

"What's up with them? Are they okay?" The girl inquired, confusion written all over her beautiful face.

"Nevermind those idiots, come," he grasped her hand, blushing slightly upon contact and dragging her up to his room. Montey hissed aggressively, racing after them. Damian let go before the kitty could attack him from being too close to the girl.

*****

"So you can't carry it out in any order? It has to be respected otherwise it wouldn't work?" Her eyed peeled away from her notes.

"Wait show me see again," he leaned over her book. He gulped when her nose accidentally brushed against his cheek and he tilted his head slightly to face hers. They were so close, their breathing mingled together. (Y/N) blushed shyly, not being able to look away from his perfect jawline and his slightly ajar lips. Daringly, he captured her lips in a hungry kiss. A surprised gasp was swallowed by Damian before the girl slowly brought a hand up to his cheek to kiss him deeply. Smoothly, he pushed the books off his bed and sunk her back into the mattress to hover over her body.

Her palms pressed against his chest as he straddled her hips to have better access to her lips.

A content, shy breath escaped her as his lips trailed down her neck. A low growl echoed through the room.

"D-Damian," she gasped.

"Hmm?" He pulled away. The sound didn't stop, he was sure it came from her. His eyes followed her finger to a familiar furball on the floor. Fur was up, uncontrollable hissing followed by bearing claws.

An angry meow tore through the room before he pounced on Damian.

Surely he anticipated that giving Montey food wouldn't last forever? Did he plan it in the first place? No, he couldn't be that smooth.

Could he?

Comments, votes and feedback improve motivation, writing and publishing, so it is in your best interest to leave some! :)  

Want to be tagged? Let me know in which ever way you are the most comfortable with!

Tagging: @lumifuer @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy @plethora-of-things @xlatinaaxx @lostnliterature @batette @pythiaaa @schweeeppess @gearsinice @mizmahlia @tina8009 @alex--awesome--22 @disa

[chaoticoconut]

BARBARA GORDON HEADCANONS THAT MAKE ME SWOON!!

(and so can you!! alfkvoekfndnej does anyone get that reference anyhoo)

I couldn't NOT post these idk I was showering and then I was hit with a mf tornado of hcs about my favorite gal and I figured I'd share :))))

Barbara and Tim are actually the most potty mouthed members of the batfam, excluding Kate. Jason is close, but only when he's upset (which probably seems trivial bc he's yk always upset but I hc him a pretty chill if not bitter and snarky guy). Tim cusses more when he's tired, but he consciously tries to bite his tongue. Barbara has no remorse and cusses very casually and openly, because she sees no point in abstaining. It releases endorphins guys. Duh. She uses those ridiculous "holy heck Batman!" lines as Batgirl unless she's genuinely thrown off her game. She limits her cussing a lot as Oracle bc she's not one to offend people, and you never know. It's most definitely a civilian thing for her, and anyone who knows Babs knows she's a fucking sailor.

Her favorite food of all time is pizza. Her dream house has a brick pizza oven. She has a food blog with every pizzeria in the greater Gotham area ranked from best to worst. Her favorite of all time is the Gotham Pizza Garden, which is located in Old Gotham near the police station. Technically it's the second best pizza in Gotham, second to Gargoyle Pie Company, which is renowned for being the epitome of Gotham-style pizza and is always busy. She has a lot of memories of GPG though, and loves both pies. GPG also has an incredible Chicago style pizza, which is her second favorite type of pizza. She does however believe Gotham style is superior and thinks less of Dick for disagreeing (@blanddcheadcanons tie-in heyo!!) Very few things make Babs as happy as gourmet pizza.

She grew up watching Teenage Mutant Turtles, Powerpuff Girls, and Star Trek. They all hold a very special place in her heart. There is totally a connection between her love of pizza and TMNT and turtles and mixed martial arts. She once got the boys to go as the turtles for Halloween, with her crushing it as April.

Speaking of turtles, she's had a pet turtle named after icon Nichelle Nichols since high school. Yes, she does call her Shelly. Yes it's cliche. No she does not care. She also has a calico cat named Cornflake that Dick gave her as a birthday present. She doesn't have pet dogs until she and Dick finally settle down. She never had them growing up because her father is allergic and her mother was a devout cat lady. She's not really sure why she never got any on her own, she's just more familiar with cats. After her mom passed away, she did get a bunch of bunnies whom she and JJ named after their favorite horror movie monsters and serial killers.

She loves slasher flicks. It's a family thing. JJ was creepy about it, Jim loves the thrill, Babs loves the mythos, and her mom was never really afraid of anything and found them funny.

She inherited her mother's love for baking. She left her her cookbook, which contains an amazing mixed berry pie recipe. Her pie baking abilities rival Alfred's. She even begins to branch out with her recipes and experiment with all sorts of fillings and even cake-pies (fanfic au tie-in heyo). Everybody loves a Barbara baked good. She knows everyone's faves and literally crushes holiday season. Dick is all about the og mixed berry pie, whereas Jay, who loves lemon everything (hc I saw awhile ago that I just love) prefers either a lemon meringue or a raspberry lemon. Tim is all about strawberry open face while Steph prefers cherry cheesecake or pecan pie. Cass and Bruce both love her cinnamon apple pie. Duke loves just about anything she bakes, but especially her more adventurous, contest winning pies like kiwi-blueberry-black cherry and other originals. Kate will die for Babs' cherry pie. Damian prefers blackberry or mixed like Dick. Alfred is a sweet potato pie kind of guy himself. There's a farmer's market in Blüdhaven her mother went with her to when she was a kid that Barbara still goes to get get all the fresh fruit.

Even better than Barbara or Alfred baking alone is them baking together. Roy Harper is also a pretty good baker. They all trade recipes with Martha Kent. M'gann brings wine to the manor and assembles them all for fun days of baking.

She's also totally the type of gal who made a shit ton of cupcakes when she ran for class prez and stayed I from Batgirl duties to finish them. Just saying.

She picks baking back up as Oracle but several hero emergencies lead her to burn perfectly good desserts.

She and Roy will always have puppy-love crushes on one another and be totally oblivious. They both did ballet as kids, love baking, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, shameless empty flirting, and tech. They're completely platonic and really great lifelong friends. They met at a Wayne gala as kids.

As if she wasn't already talented enough, she's completely ambidextrous. I'm jealous. Dick and Wally are left handed. Bruce is similarly ambi. Selina's a leftie. Maybe Alfred too.

She likes to enter contests and win for fun. She's a monster. Everything from baking to video games to weight lifting, she loves showing people up.

Dick, Babs, and Tim all snore atrociously loud. The batfam hates it. She's the quietest out of them all, but she's also a blanket hog. And a major cuddler.

Her favorite colors are grey and green. Purple does deserve an honorable mention however. Her apartment is a fair mix of green and grey decor and covered in books.

She was a total ballerina growing up, just like her mom wanted. That was until she discovered how kick ass martial arts were, and she got a little too jacked to continue with ballet as a formidable career option. Her next best option is becoming a cop at this point, but her father believes that not only would it be far too dangerous but a waste of her skills (like ballet cough cough). This upsets her so much she goes off and invents Batgirl, complete with a stole grappling gun from evidence.

In college she works as a barista and excels at it. Her dream is to open up a cafe/bakery/flower shop with Dinah some day. She wants to call her half Bean Me Up Scotty! (another hc I saw and fell in love with)

Babs is also a pretty good cook being that she became the family chef at a young age (Jim can barbeque and make spaghetti. That's literally it. Maybe some breakfast). Cooking lessons from Alfred certainly helped.

Her personality is so versatile. She can get along with pretty much anyone due to her wide range of interests and skills which is what makes Oracle so bad ass. She's also a Libra so she adapts fairly easily to any group without seeming fake.

She has a podcast where she rants about tech and feminism and politics and plays video games

She SO took Latin in high school and dominated competitions. She loves classical studies and is a dork for Greek and Roman mythology as well as linguistics. She has a pretty good grasp on all of the romance languages, and learns languages fairly quickly.

She always smells like mint and books. She has killer mint shampoo and conditioner, which is a Kean family thing (they just love the scent). She always smells refreshing.

She likes coffee but prefers tea always. She's like Ramona Flowers with tea

Her music taste is total 90s nostalgia (grunge, boybands, air pop, ska, hip hop) meets far too indie 4 u. Yes she's pretentious. Yes she loves chick rock and *NSYNC and Britney and Kurt Cobain and Biggie and deal with it. She also loves shit you've never even heard of. Was totally into the Gotham punk scene as a teen.

She collects vinyl and books and horror flicks ugh hipster queen

She loves spicy food and Dick cannot stand it. They both like sour candy though

If your Barbara Gordon didn't graduate high school at 16 she doesn't have rights

She was all of the Robin's first crush. Duh. Tim will always think she's the gold standard of women. He likes that she usually sticks up for him. He doesn't mind being seen as her male equivalent lmao

At some point Jay and Babs are roommates and it's literally the best I'll talk abt that later

Her type is guys with dark hair or blonde gals.

[ultimatetornshipper]

Okay but imagine this

And she shows up to patrol

But the whole Batfam is at their location and their like staring at her and then Jason just walks to her and hugs her and softly whispers to her and the others are standing there like what the actual fuck is happening?

And then he's like, "Well I'll see you losers later,"

And they just portal away and the entire batfam is like who the hell was that why was she crying and what's with the cat suit and aaaaah

And the can't exactly ofollow him because they used a fucking portal? A portal? Metahuman?

Safe to say they have a lot of questions

So when they get home Damian bursts into Jason's room to ask him what the hell that was only as soon as he enters Jason has a gun aimed at him and the girl is asleep on his chest

Jason makes a be quiet motion and gives him the "leave or I'll kill you" glare

So Damian slowly backs out and leaves them be

She's gone the next morning and they bombard him with questions and he's just like, "She's my sister,"

And they're like, "Bruce when did u adopt a cat? Seriously you have a problem,"

He hesitates before saying, "No no I'm pretty sure I didn't adopt her,"

And Jason's just like, "You didn't,"

"But we didn't know the Todd's had more than one kid?"

"They didn't, she's my street sister, got adopted by this amazing couple in France a lil while before Bruce found me, we kept in contact,"

And then they're like," Portals?"

"Oh she's my magic street sister, yeah. Don't worry though she's a superhero like us,"

And then he just leave, they still have questions but he's already gone

Just had either a brilliant idea or a really bad idea.

So picture close siblings, the type that would crawl into the others bed if they have a nightmare.

Now picture and older brother jason and younger sister Marinette.

Only their nightmares have gotten worse as they have gotten older and life keeps throwing bricks at them. So if the nightmare is bad enough they will still revert back to crawling into the others bed for comfort. Marinette does this more than Jason because she is in Paris and he is in Gotham and he doesn’t have a tiny pocket god to create a portal for him.

So this to several interesting scenarios.

Jason refuses to sleep in the buff no matter how hot the weather gets

They must tell eachother of injuries so has not to accidently burst stitches during a hug (once was enough)

They never speak of these night while the sun is out

Nightmare nights are not to be even hinted at because people have dirty minds

Now the sleep deprived scenario that sparked this: Jason has a girl over, they had fun, they are sleeping now. Suddenly this tiny teen is crawling into bed with them. The girl begins to freak out, Jason just shoves a pillow in her face like “she had a nightmare, either shut up and go back to sleep or fuck off.” His sister is always number one.