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ebodebo · 5 months ago

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Hey, Waiter!

NSFW CONTENT

—you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck

—jason todd x f!reader

—2.7k+

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"Honey, cross your legs."

"Honey, sit up straighter."

"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."

These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.

It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.

So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.

"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.

Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.

"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.

"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.

"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.

Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.

"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.

"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest

"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.

"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.

Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.

"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.

"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.

"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.

"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.

"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.

While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.

"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.

You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the lever and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.

Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and huffing out a string of smoke.

"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.

"You know the latch and all."

"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.

"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.

"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.

"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.

"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.

"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.

"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.

"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.

"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.

"Jason," he adds.

Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.

"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.

"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.

"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.

"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."

You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."

"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”

You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.

"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.

"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.

"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.

"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.

"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.

"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.

"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?

You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.

"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.

"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.

"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.

"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.

His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.

"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.

You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.

"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.

"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.

"Touché," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.

He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.

You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.

"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.

"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.

"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.

"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.

"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.

You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.

"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.

You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.

Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.

You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.

"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.

Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.

a/n: jason todd = thought daughter

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

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e-nonsense · 2 months ago

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TELL ME YOU SEE ME

pairing. jason todd x reader

warnings. reader is a little pathetic, character death and revival, eventual smut, sub!jason, soft dom!reader, virgin!jason, lots and lots of consent

request. here

a/n. thank you both for this ask, not sure if this is what you wanted exactly, i couldn’t really fit it all in with what i had going

you giggled as dick grumbled about the piece of gum stuck in his hair, your legs swinging over the ledge of the building he’d cornered you on.

the former robin had followed you after you’d ‘stolen’ jewels. turns out selina had taken off with hem and you were just the distraction. but that didn’t stop you from playing your usual pranks.

like that time you superglued bruce’s utility belt closed, or put little animal stickers on the cowl of his suit.

all that had changed so quickly. the lightheartedness and awkwardness you emitted had disappeared.

everyone saw how losing him changed you. you weren’t loud and weird anymore, you’d stick to yourself, keeping your weird thoughts to yourself. actually now that you think about it you didn’t have many weird thoughts anymore.

maybe they died with jason too.

“oh come on. i haven’t done anything wrong, have i?” you grinned at the robin in front of you. there was a hint of a smile on his lips, head tilted at you.

“i guess not, but i am gonna need gordon’s glasses back.”

“buzzkill, birdy.” you pout before pulling the glasses off your face and handing them over to him with a grumble.

“thanks kitty cat,” jason grins, before leaving to go back on patrol.

you were half asleep, dreams of him haunted you every night. you’d see his face all the time, flashes of his brutal state would come over you, you remember his funeral too, well the one you and dick had for him because bruce buried him without everyone.

“hey kid,” dick muttered, his hand on your shoulder as he looked down at his brother’s grave. this was the last thing the first robin thought would happen when he got back from space.

you don’t say anything, no jokes or pranks. you just stand there like a peace of you was in that grave with him.

you spun in your chair waiting for the computer to finish decrypting the information dick had brought to you. you’d broken through the locks and safety measured on the drive easily.

apparently it belonged to some new criminal mob boss, red hood, he called himself. you hadn’t encountered him yet, you assumed your turn to meet this lunatic was soon or never, seeing as nobody new about your whereabouts these days, except dick.

and there. you were in. you grabbed your phone to make the call to dick.

you heard it before you felt it, the soft click of a gun and then the cold nozzle pressed up against your neck. “i wouldn’t.”

the voice was distorted, your fingers stilled against your key board.

“you’re a hard person to find, kitty cat. very hard, i leave for six years and then you’re off the grid too. but i finally found you.”

“excuse me?” stupid, you scold yourself in you mind, what idiot snarks when— oh yeah, you would.

he laughed, a cold, creepy sound coming from what you assumed to be a voice modulator. then you heard a soft hiss of air and a thud, his helmet placed on the desk in front of you.

“c’mon kitty cat. you don’t remember me?” he uses the gun to tip your head back.

“what..?” your eyes widen as you stare up at him.

“ah, there you go. you’ve changed, not as much spunk and crazy anymore.”

you snatched the purse of some mugger, knocking him out before handing it back to the lady he stole it from. the woman smiles before going on her way. you hummed softly as jason landed in the alley in front of you, “nice work, kitty.”

you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grinning proudly at his praise, you were sure if you had a real tail it’d be wagging happily right now. “really?”

“oh yeah,” he nods, even at sixteen jason wasn’t completely a fool, he could tell how much his words meant to you.

he stared down at you. “c’mon kitty cat, i’m gonna need those files back. can you do that f’me?” was it mean to use your feelings against you like this? yes, definitely but jason was also trying to determine whether or not you still had those feeling for him too.

your shake your head, dick needs these files to stop red hood. but jason is red hood, so you’d be hurting him— no you have to help dick.

“i can’t.”

“sure you can, just take it out and give it here.”

“no.”

he pressed the gun harder into your neck, reminding you that it was an option, but he wouldn’t pull the trigger, it’d be useless to anyways. the gun was unloaded, not a single bullet inside, he couldn’t risk accidentally shooting you.

“fine,” you scoff, unplugging the hard drive and handing it over.

“i’ll see you soon kitty cat.” he leaves, leaving his helmet behind with you, the camera in it would keep an eye on you and you most definitely wouldn’t give the helmet up, he knew that.

it wasn’t long later until you saw him next. he didn’t intend to stay away anymore. this time when he came to you, it had properly registered in your mind. this was jason, jason was back.

so when you hugged him so suddenly, words tumbling out of your mouth messily. “i missed you so much.” you whisper, arms tight around him.

you sniffled and his heart broke, fingers gently running through your hair as he held you. his body tensing when the words ‘i love you’ escaped your lips. you hadn’t seem to realised because you kept going on, soft rambling, refusing to let him go.

he tried to speak, only to be cut off by you once more.

“i didn’t know how to say it, but you always got me.” you whisper, looking up at him. “tell me you see me.”

“i see you, doll.”

—

you didn’t expect him to be a virgin.

not with the looks of a god and the voice of an angel.

but you embraced the fact, you loved it even that he wanted you as his first. even though you were the one begging, on your knees in front of him, he couldn’t tear his eyes from you.

“can i touch you?” your fingers hover over his undressed body, he nodded.

“words, jay.”

“y-yeah.” he shivers under your touch, a soft groan leaving him.

“you’re so pretty,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lick a strip up his cock, swirling your tongue around his head. “taste so sweet too.”

his hand grips the sheets, staring at the arch of your back and the way your ass sticks up. you take his hand, leading towards your hair, “can i?”

“yeah, yeah go ahead, kitty.”

your lashes flutter as i pushes your head down towards his cock, you mouth falling open immediately to suck him up. you hum softly, as if you were gaining more pleasure from this than he was.

he holds your hair out of your face while you gag on the sheer length of him, his cock so thick it stretches your mouth open so far that you know your jaw will ache this time tomorrow.

he groans out your name, shameless with his noises. he pulls you off him, you whine trying to go down on him again, he thinks he could cum at the sight. “i wanna feel you, please.”

you can’t deny him, not when his big icy blue eyes stare down at you.

jason todd does not fuck like a virgin. you learn that when he can’t seem to stop fucking you into the bed. gasping into your ear while you babble on about how good he is.

how pretty he is.

how nobody could understand you like him.

how much you love him.

he can barely hold himself in but he doesn’t wanna stop right now.

“oh— oh jay.” you whimper softly, “so so good.”

he’ll wait, just to hear your little praises and whines, to hear that you love him.

“i know, i know baby. i love you too.”

#☁️ anon #♟️ anon #☁️ & ♟️#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut #red hood smut #red hood x reader smut #[📮] asks #enzo writes [📝]

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meara-eldestofthemall · 1 year ago

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Gee, thanks DC! You Just Turned Bruce Into An Irredeemable Ass.

So, at the end of Gotham War Bruce has officially lost everything. Alfred is still dead, Selina is "presumed dead" and Bruce is both financially and morally broke. Why, you may ask, is Bruce so much worse off this time? Let me count the ways.

He preformed a psychic lobotomy on Jason

The "it's for your own good" excuse only makes the mental rape undertaken by Jason's own father that much more heinous.

Just when you think Bruce can't sink any lower he does. When Dick recognizes that Bruce has lost it, he attempts to use a failsafe disconnect that Bruce himself built into the system. How does Nightwing get thanked for that? Well that brings us to number two on the list.

Batman attacks up his eldest son for doing what he's supposed to do when Batman has gone rouge.

Bruce beats him up because nothing proves you are in control of your sanity like hitting your children. While Dick is holding back, Bruce does no such thing. He hits Nightwing hard enough to send him flying. It could have gotten even worse if Tim hadn't shown up.

Tim arrives and attempts to talk some sense into Batman.

Tim tries to talk Bruce down. It doesn't go well. When Robin is trying to help, as he always does, Batman uses the attempt to reason with him to put the smack down on his son. Bruce could have killed Tim but apparently feels no remorse or guilt.

If there was any teeny tiny little doubt that Bruce will not win the Father of The Year award in 2023 it died a horrible screaming death when Batman abandons his children to potential arrest. Yes, he left a batarang for Dick and Tim but any glimer of possible hope associated with that action was instantly extinguished by Damian's reaction to Batman's callous betrayal.

Bruce abandons Damian.

Look at Dami; he's devastated. Since he came into Bruce's life, Damian has struggled with feelings that he can never earn his father's love and respect. Well, that negative self-image was reinforced in way that may never be repairable. Bruce just utterly destroyed a 13 year old child because of his inability to feel any kind of empathy.

And how does this all end? The best part is that Bruce takes all of his parental responsibilities and dumps them onto Dick.

Thank you Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard. You've taken Batman from being an edgy anti-hero and made him into a callous monster. Part of me hopes that Bruce never comes back because he doesn't deserve his family.

The only positive aspect in this convoluted mess is that Damian and Tim will be far better off with Dick than with Bruce. Yes, Tim is mostly independent but he still needs guidance (particularly since Tim's first instinct is to try and save Bruce). Damian is essentially Dick's son emotionally anyway so this might help to sustain the positive character growth we've seen in him as of late.

The point of this rant is to wonder what on earth DC thinks they're doing. This story arc has been pure character destruction as far as Bruce is concerned. It's bad storytelling too; rushed, frenetic and massively disappointing.

Hasn't the popularity of Good Dad Bruce in Wayne Family Adventures proved that fans are tired of Bruce being a dark depressed and brooding edge lord? We all accept that Batman is a character with deeeeep issues who is in desperate need of therapy. I, however, draw the line at Bruce being an abusive a**hole.

In years to come when fans wonder when Batman jumped the shark, this is the plot line they'll point to.

#bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #batman #nightwing #tim drake robin #damian wayne robin #batfam #dc stands for disappoints continually

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kurogxrix · 5 months ago

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I think a Bruce and reader meet cute/love at first sight would be cool! Welcome back! I missed your writing ❤️

Away, Away, Away

Bruce Wayne x reader

IN WHICH you accidentally stumble into the one and only Bruce Wayne on your way out of the club for your birthday. To you, it’s a fuzzy conversation with a blurry stranger you can’t even seem to recognize, to Bruce, it’s love at first sight.

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: Reader is shorter than bruce, Bruce lowkey being a perv, mentions of alcohol, reader being drunk, mentions of puke.

Bruce was tired. Exhausted even, if he allowed himself to be the least dramatic. Between being Batman, his hectic relationship with the borderline mentally deranged kids he’d somewhat decided to bring home all these years ago, and his messy on-and-off relationship he had going on with Selina, he was done.

He wasn’t often seen like this, work attire still clad on his broad figure, muscles so tense and rigid under the restraint of the tight fabric. Walking through the dark streets of Gotham where he could be recognized and nagged at any moment. Though he needed a moment alone, and maybe breathing the damned polluted air of Gotham could do him some good.

Albeit complaining, he didn’t want to be here. He craved the falling residues of black eyeshadow, the tight and suffocating kevlar suit. He craved the violence and vengeance, the freedom and enslavement of being the Bat. Though tonight Alfred had forced him into the sidelines because he had been far too distracted, and he’d be damned if he’d even think of crossing the butler.

So instead, here he was, Valentino dress shoes clicking against the concrete sidewalk as he envied those children of his that were currently occupying his favourite nightly pastime in his place. Bruce huffed, rolling his blue eyes like a child. All the most billionaire-like behaviour.

The distant sound of music began resounding in his ears, and as he lifted his head to glance at the direction in which the music came from, the yellowish glow of the overhead sign casted him like an angel caught in the midst of golden hour. Bruce stalled, hands in his pockets as he took in the sight before his very own eyes.

Apparently he had managed to walk his frustrated self all the way to the club, mid city, a whole hour walk away from the mansion. Ever the detective that he was, his sharp eyes fell upon the sight before him. He felt his shoulders stiffen upon the realisation. The sidewalk was bustling with people, and people could only mean nuisance, especially if you were the billionaire playboy that he was.

There was a crowd by the door. Some people drunk, some people high, and some busted off whatever they could get their grimy hands on. Women in tiny sequin dresses, dainty heels that made them swagger with each drunken movement that they took. Men clad in beach shorts and most likely the first shirt they’d found laying in the back of their unorganised closets.

Bruce watched as one of the women doubled over, emptying the entire contents of her stomach, lunch, dinner and probably the many drinks that she’s had before even stepping foot inside the club. He scrunched his nose at the unwanted sight, but his stomach didn’t turn, he’d seen far worse as Batman. These little things couldn’t phase him anymore. He averted his eyes as she doubled over for a second round, her short dress rose up her hips even further as her equally drunk friend attempted to sooth her.

Bruce rolled his eyes for what seemed like the 10th time tonight, rolling his eyes at the infuriating human antics asif he was any better himself. He could remember the last time he’d gotten so drunk to drown his never ending sorrows, but he didn’t want to remember, and maybe a sip of some hennessy could help drown those memories, and make new ones that he would regret once more instead.

Nevertheless, he was ready to leave the site before anyone could catch a glimpse of him and ruin his night furthermore. He turned around, sharp on his heels as he attempted to retrace his route back home, where he could only hope that the butler he considered family would finally agree to release him into the crime-filled alleys that he considered home.

Although his march was quickly interrupted as he felt a sudden weight crash into his chest, a quick yelp, then the feeling of a small palm connecting with his chest in an attempt to chase stability. He barely flinched at the impact, ever so the man that he was, but the suddenness caused him to halt for a second. Frozen in his steps, eyes wide and that frown of his etched impossibly further onto his face.

Bruce always wanted to believe he was a humble man, really, but being ranked so far up above the rest of society could only do so much to a person. He scoffed in offence, disbelief written all over his face at the fact that someone had dared to even stumble into the one and only Bruce Wayne. Sure, he felt like a bratty kid soon enough and his eyebrows unfurrowed from their tense position, but he couldn’t help it.

He gave himself a minute to calm down, before taking a few steps back to glance at his assaulter.

Though the second he glanced down, good lord…

You were looking at him with those eyes that made his breath hitch, palms sweaty in the blazer pockets that they were currently residing in. He just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, from the way your lashes were long and dark, layers of mascara coating them as you blinked up at him. Black eyeliner, eyeshadow and whatever else that adorned your face, Bruce wasn’t sure he cared at the moment.

You were beautiful, breathtaking, and soon he had to manually remind himself to take in a huff of fresh air. He remained silent for what felt like hours, taking in the way your hands were still very much planted upon his broad torso. Thick silver hoops were dangling off your ears, reflecting the yellow light coming from the club in a way Bruce believed was comically stunning. Everything about you made his heart rate excell the scale, and soon a frown settled itself back upon his lips, unaware that it had ever left in the first place, as he felt your hands retracting back to you.

“God these heels are killing me…” you muttered to yourself, and Bruce watched you with amusement. You bent down to fix the strap of the shoe that seemed like it was apparently ‘killing you’, stumbling a few steps back as you allowed yourself the space from whatever you’d just collided with. The thought crossed the billionaire’s mind that you had not even discerned that you had in fact collided into another human's chest, and not whatever inanimate object you believed you had walked into.

“I don’t even know where my friends are…” his interest peaks as you speak again, but when he glances down, you’re still bent in half trying to fix your shoe strap. ‘You’re talking to yourself, unable to even acknowledge that there’s another person standing before you’ he thinks, that’s how drunk you were.

He was going to huff, really, but before he could disrupt your peace, or at least whatever peace was left, he couldn’t help himself from the way his eyes strayed upon your figure. The way the seam of your long, black backless dress seemed to dip so low felt sinful, and Bruce felt disgusted with the way he allowed himself to glance at you in such a way. The drunk past her mind woman who had just fucking crashed into him.

He heard murmured curses coming frown below, forcing his eyes to snap back towards your still facing-the-floor face and he cleared his throat, making his presence known. In a split second, you were back up straight, as straight as the alcohol coursing through your veins currently allowed you to, but straight nevertheless. Bruce couldn’t help the tiny grin that lifted upon his lips as he watched you, wild hair from the bend, eyes wide as you stared at him like some mad woman.

Your dress was scrunched in the middle from the position you were previously in, and despite everything, you were still the most beautiful woman that Bruce had ever seen in his entire life. All thoughts of Selina, Talia, Vicki or whichever one of the hundreds of women he’d involved himself with in his years of living, vanished from his head completely. Stuffed at the back of his mind to never be found again, he felt his cold heart beating for you, and it scared him.

If only you knew that you had managed to spread fear into the one and only Batman’s heart, you’d never believe yourself. Because he didn’t even know you, and yet he burned stronger for you than he’d ever gone with anyone else.

Suddenly, the sound of a warm giggle enveloped all of his senses, and Bruce felt like he was dying. He’d never felt like this, never even for Selina, the woman he once thought he could leave the Batman life behind for, the woman who’d left him at the altar and broke his heart like she’d done just about every few months.

“What’re you made of? you feel like a brick wall.” slurring up on your words, you sent him an apologetic smile as you stuttered on your sentences.

“I just work out a lot.” he responded lamely. Watching as you rolled your eyes playfully at him, clutching onto your purse that looked like it had seen more fights than he had. And that said a lot coming from The Batman. The fake leather material was beginning to peel off, and he had a single thought at the back of his mind.

He wanted to give you a better life, he craved it in fact. A life where you’d get the highest quality purses, endless choices of Birkins, and probably shoes comfortable enough that you wouldn’t feel the need to stumble into every neighbouring stranger in search of stability.

Talking about stumbling, you seemed like you could barely stand straight for the life of you. He didn’t think twice as he saw you slightly lose balance, reaching a hand out with the help of his Bat reflexes, before you could hit the ground. But that was heavily exaggerated, the worst that could happen would be your purse slipping off your shoulder, but maybe all that Bruce needed was an excuse to have his hands on you.

He felt somewhat disgusting all over again, yet he couldn’t help himself. The skin of your arm felt so smooth under his rough, calloused palm. He could feel the heavenly feeling of your lotion under his palm, and now he definitely felt creep-ish.

“You can barely even stand straight.” he blurts out and watches as your lips contort into a smile, before that laugh of yours escapes your lips and Bruce feels like flying. Like a real bat.

“I know, it’s my birthday today and my girls took me out. It didn’t help that we drank just about the amount at the bar at home before coming here..”

Bruce hums, muttering a small ‘happy birthday’ that he’s pretty sure you haven’t heard.

He’s blurry to your eyes, just like the rest of the world currently was, but it didn’t escape you that he was covered in an attire that didn’t seem to quite fit the aesthetic of everybody else, especially not clubbing or walking around the city at this time.

“What are you doing here? You don’t seem just as drunk as any of us, and trust me, in no offence do i say but you look like you’ve just ran away from a business meeting.” you laugh again, and he can’t find it in himself to be offended. He almost chuckles, but he saves it and gives you a tiny grin instead.

“Just needed to get away for a minute.”

“Trouble in paradise?” you ask, and he shrugs, uninterested in talking about his issues with Selina. She was in the past now, and Bruce knew that he needed to move on, to think about the future.

For a split second, Bruce believes he’s messed up as he watches your face contort slightly under his words. He mentally cursed himself as he tried to rack his brain to find where he’d messed up. But honestly, he can’t quite understand why he’s putting so much effort into a stranger.

“I wish I could help you with your wife but I'm not quite sure I'm qualified for this, especially not in this state.” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders like he’d done so just a moment ago.

Bruce is more than aware of everything at the moment. From the way you try to hide your disappointment, to the way you try to avoid his eyes as you glance down at the floor before you. Hell, he’s not even sure that you’re thinking straight, but he’s hurt at you being hurt, and everything overwhelms him. He’s not used to caring like this, not this fast at least.

He’d cared this deeply for one woman in his life, and it’d taken them years to get where they were, yet she’d left him standing there all alone like a fool, and Bruce wasn’t sure he could forgive anymore.

“I’m not married.” He doesn't know why he’s blurred it out so quickly, but something inside of him felt the need to defend himself all of a sudden. He shrugs before continuing. “Things got messy, but I ended it after all.”

“Sorry for bringing it up,” you can't help but trail off, feeling guilty for making something that seemed to hurt him resurface in the span of your drunken stupidity.

“Nothing to be sorry for, I actually feel lighter now that it’s over.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence that fell upon the both of you as you stared into the void, and Bruce could see that you obviously didn’t consider his words as true, and the guilt still gnawed at you like a vulture.

Tho before he could even get a work out, a sudden swoosh of breeze rushes over the both of you, and Bruce observes as goosebumps come rising up your delicate skin. The hairs of your arms raising as you shivered upon impact. He was quick to make a work of it, shrugging his blazer and offering it to you in a quick, silent and almost nonchalant movement.

“Please, I'm really not that cold.’ You smiled sheepishly as you tried to fight the way you’re all up and shivering all of a sudden. You’re drunk and not the least worried about the fact that you’re wearing nothing but a pair of black, lace panties under the long skin tight dress, but a certain playboy took notice of it.

It’s sinful, he is aware. He’s aware that you aren’t aware, and it makes him swallow in self loathing. Still, it was a miracle that you’d managed to have this effect on the billionaire playboy. Same guy who’d had a different woman hanging at his arm just about every gala he attended. Still, he averted his eyes back to the floor as he shrugged once more, silently ushering you to take on his jacket so he doesn’t have to glance at you again. He wasn’t sure for how much longer he could remain civilised, at least not when you were standing before himself

Soon, he feels the expensive fabric of his suit jacket slip off his fingers, and onto yours. When he allowed himself to glance back at you, he’s marvelled by the way you swam in his clothing. His eyes were quickly back on the floor, feigning interest in the cracks along the sidewalk. So much for being civilised.

The conversation lasted for what felt like a minute, but in reality you had strayed from your ground and had ended up talking to Bruce for about 45 minutes, and soon you became aware of it. From the distance, the sound of your name resounded from a female voice, one that you recognized very well.

You peeped behind Bruce’s broad shoulders, and he too turned his head around at the sound of the name being called. He turned around to glimpse at you at the revelation, such a pretty name for such a pretty woman, he thought.

It didn’t take long for the taller woman to reach you, and it was obvious that even with her heels off, she was still about a head taller than you were. She must’ve been your best friend, from the way she hurried by your side, and the glare that she threw towards Bruce’s way was lethal.

The Wayne distanced himself a few steps back, if anything to show to the intruding woman that he meant no threat. She didn’t seem as drunk as you did, but he could still smell the vodka that clung to her pretty orange floral dress. Bruce watched as she clung two hand to each sides of your arms, rubbing them comfortably in and up and down motion over the fabric of his jacket. He couldn’t hear what she was hushing to you, but he made out a few ‘are you okay’s and a stray ‘do you even know who you’re talking to?’

You shrugged, not finding anything serious in the situation. When you’d wake up tomorrow morning with that imminent pounding headache, then you’d truly realise how stupid you really had been in that situation, and if Bruce hadn’t ever been the gentleman that he was, at least you thought so, then it could have ended bad for you.

A couple more minutes of conversation with your friend later and an awkwardly standing-there Bruce later and she was gone, walking back to the group of women that Bruce had deducted as your friends. He didn’t miss the way your friend had thrown him a last deadly glare on her way out, and he found it somewhat amusing.

“Sorry about that, she’s kinda the mom of the group you know…?” you shrugged, sounding confused about it yourself. The more the night gave in, the more you were starting to feel like you couldn’t understand what was going on. Nevertheless you continued. “She came to tell me that the uber would be here soon enough, soooo…” you trailed off again, staring off into the distance where your friend had walked back to.

“I don’t want this night to end, I don’t want to go back,” you whisper the last part like a hushed secret between the two of you, and if you could hear yourself talking clearly, you would’ve thought that you were really in love with this stranger you had just spent nearly a whole hour speaking to. You could’ve dreamt it but you swore that you heard a grumbled ‘me neither’ coming from the brick wall of a man standing in front of you.

“I could always drop you back home if you want to.” he’s not really sure why he’s offering, because it’s sketchy coming from a random guy you’d just met off the streets, drunk off your mind, and a part of him prayed that you declined for the sake of yourself and a near future where you’d meet another stranger, drunk off your mind again. Plus it wasn’t like he had anything to drop you off with, he had walked his frustrated self here while stomping on the concrete sidewalk like a bratty toddler. But Bruce was always one to keep his words, and if he had to find a way then he would. He was Bruce Wayne after all.

“Hey I really appreciate you and all but my mom would really smack me up the head if I accepted a ride from a stranger so..” your giggles trailed off the end of your sentence, not necessarily apologetic as you rejected his last minute offer. Maybe for the best, you could never know in Gotham.

For the first time in the entire night, Bruce allowed himself to laugh for real. Allowed himself to show the side of Bruce Wayne that he showed to the public, except that it wasn’t a public act this time, it was all real. Real for you.

The vulnerability that he displayed for you would’ve made your heart swag in all sorts of directions if you even knew who was standing before you. Though you were quite sure that in the moment, you wouldn’t have been able to spout out even a single word if you were well aware that Bruce Wayne was talking to you, of all people.

There was another call for your name, and this time as Bruce and yourself turned to glance at the caller, you were met with the sight of your girlfriends trying to usher you into the car now waiting beside them. At this moment, Bruce understood that this could be the last time he’d ever see you, and with the way you were glancing up at him, he could tell that you were thinking just about the same.

Bruce could still hear your girlfriends calling for you endlessly inside the uber, and he could see the reflection of one of them half-in and half-out the car trying to lure your drunken self inside. Though he didn’t care, he wanted to keep you here as long as he could for the night. He was selfish, he knew, but he dedicated his whole life to this city, to hell if he decided to be selfish for once in his damned life.

His eyes observed carefully as you fished your cellphone from your purse, the device crammed between what seemed to be like a keychain which was absolutely suffocated by an unnecessary amount of keys, and a few tubes of what he believed was lipgloss or lipstick. Probably the ones you were wearing right now. He made a mental note to give you an endless array of those someday, just the best he could find, not any of that cheap shit you had stuffed in your bag.

Next thing he knew, the frontal camera of your phone was stuffed in his face, and you stood so close to him that he could smell the perfume you were wearing just fine. He gave you a confused glance, and a curious raise of his eyebrow.

“Just need to know tomorrow when i wake up if you were really this handsome, or if I was just really this drunk.” you shrugged your shoulders like it was the most normal thing to spill, and Bruce felt his heart speed up the pace. Though it didn’t show on his face, ever.

You smiled at the phone, and Bruce managed to pull a slither of a grin just at the thought of the situation. He adjusted himself to meet your height so he could at least fit in the frame of your camera.

Your phone is too much of an old model for it to have the frontal flash, so instead you’d have to do with an extremely low quality, dark picture of yourself and this stranger.

You couldn’t deal with the proximity anymore, and you’re sure that this exotic smell that was enveloping your senses was that sweet cologne of his. It was hard to resist the way he was glancing down at you once you retracted the phone back at your side, waiting for you to say something as you tighten the jacket around your shoulders.

He doesn’t really expect it when you regain your position in front of him, and even less when you scurry into your top toes to press a kiss against his slightly pink cheek, the effect of the cold making itself evident on his features. He’s tall, and aware, yet he doesn’t understand why he meets you halfway when you raise yourself high off your toes and bends down to help you offer him your little token of appreciation.

The kiss is quick, and it leaves a warm and tingling feeling along his skin. He’s almost sure that there’s a large, red kiss mark on his cheek, but he’d be more than pleased to acknowledge it especially if it came from you.

Once you’re back on your feet, you lose all the confidence you’ve had before. And by now your hands are hidden behind your back as you stare up at him with that look that makes Bruce want to offer you the whole world.

“Thanks again Mr…” you hesitate, and it suddenly dawns on you that you don’t even know his name, and yet you’ve just called him handsome, bumped into him, talked his ear off for a good hour now and even kissed him. Even if it was the most innocent kiss on the cheek.

“Wayne.” Bruce replies simply. Your moment is cut short once he feels the presence of your girlfriends besides him, and soon she’s grabbing onto your wrist and pulling her towards the car as you struggle to balance off of your heels.

He watches, a smile on his face as you’re pulled off. You manage a little smile and an off-balanced wave as you’re pushed into the car. Soon all he’s left with is himself, the music in the background shifting from one song to another as everyone outside rushes back in. A summer hit, he thinks. Nothing for him.

Bruce falters for a second, before turning on his heels and dragging himself back home. Though this time, he leaves with the distant memory of the strange woman that was talking to herself, and the lipstick mark burning into his skin in a way he thought he could die for.

All he could think about at this instant was that he wanted to take you away, far away from Gotham, from the life you were both living, because he could see that it wasn't enough. He wanted to give you the best, and even if it’s miles away, then that’s where he’d take you.

A/N: Thank you so much anon for your request, this was originally supposed to be a short 1.5k words drabble but oh well… Enjoy🫶🏽

#Bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne oneshot

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yannawayne · 5 months ago

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i. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Mild sexual jokes, Making out, Blood, Explosions, Mentions of Child Abuse, Good Aunt-Mom Selina Kyle AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

 NEXT ->

༻⊰───⋅

“Uh, good morning?” you offered weakly, trying to give a casual shrug despite the mess around you. “Mom, this might sound insane. But, I think I might have accidentally discovered superpowers.”

Selina stared at you, blinking slowly as she processed the scene before her. Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hold back a laugh or perhaps some form of disbelief.

“Accidentally discovered superpowers?” she echoed. “I think you've been around your boyfriend and his family too much. Baby—”

Before she could finish, your hand instinctively reached out. With a flick of your wrist, a web shot from your fingers and latched onto the door behind her. In a heartbeat, the door was yanked from its hinges, splintering as it flew across the room and crashed into the wall with a resounding thud.

Selina’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to face the now doorless doorway. She blinked at the empty space where the door had once been.

“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s one way to explain things.”

༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 9:02 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

SELINA'S DEFT FINGERS SLID over the fabric of the dress, adjusting and smoothing it until it drapes perfectly over your figure. The elegant emerald gown shimmered softly under the dim apartment lights, the material flowing luxuriously against your skin.

"You didn’t steal this, did you?" you murmur, adjusting the necklace that rests delicately around your neck. "I’d rather not end up in jail tonight."

"The dress? No, it’s one of my old ones," Selina scoffed, turning away and handing you a pair of black heels. "But if anyone asks about the necklace, just say it’s a family heirloom. Which, technically, it is."

You shot her a pointed look. She rolled her eyes with a smirk.

"Oh, hush. I haven’t stolen anything in... at least a month," she drawled.

"A month, wow! That’s a new record," you teased, slipping into the heels.

Selina laughed and shook her head. "Don’t get too comfortable. Just because I’m on a hiatus doesn’t mean I’ve gone straight."

"Well, let’s hope your hiatus lasts at least through tonight," you winced.

She smirked, giving you a once-over. "Trust me, darling, tonight is all about you."

You were about to respond when Selina suddenly snapped her fingers.

“Before I forget...” she said, reaching into one of her drawers. She pulled out a thigh strap and wrapped the leather around your leg, fastening it securely.

Then, she slid one of her blades into the strap. You rolled your eyes but accepted the gesture with a resigned nod. It was Gotham, after all—being prepared was always a need.

“Damian’s got me covered tonight,” you say, trying to reassure her. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

Selina paused, her hands still on the thigh strap, and gave you a skeptical look. “Sweetheart, I worry about you all the time. It’s not that I don’t trust Damian—he’s solid. But Gotham? That’s a different story. Where those Bats go, trouble’s sure to follow.”

You chuckled, adjusting the strap to make sure it was secure. “We’ll manage, mom.”

Selina Kyle might not have been your biological mother, but she became your mother the moment you were placed in her arms years ago. In that instant, the blood that bound you was inconsequential compared to the unspoken promise she made to protect you.

To Selina, you were her child. Not because of any legal ties or shared genetics, but because she chose to be your mother every single day.

And to you, Selina was more than just an aunt. She was the lifeline who stepped in when everything else had crumbled around you.

Selina and Maggie, your biological mother, had both grown up in a fractured family. Their father was a vicious drunkard. Their mother, Maria, was a ghost in their lives—emotionally absent and detached.

When Maria died, the world turned colder. The sisters were torn apart: Maggie was adopted by a warm, loving family, while Selina was abandoned to the unforgiving grip of Gotham’s orphanages. Those grim streets, steeped in shadows and danger, carved her into Catwoman.

But darkness has a way of creeping back into the light, no matter how hard you try to keep it at bay. Maggie, who had managed to build a life of stability and warmth, became a target for the shadows of Catwoman’s past.

Black Mask.

Kidnapped, tortured, and left to die, Maggie was nothing but a ghost by the time the attack was done. Her husband was slain in the carnage, and the only remnant of their family was you— barely a toddler, too young to grasp the gravity of your loss but old enough to feel its weight.

With no other family to turn to, she took you in, binding her fate to yours and vowing to protect you from a world that had already taken so much from both of you.

Her life wasn’t easy. She was young, barely in her twenties, struggling to make ends meet in one of Gotham’s most unforgiving neighborhoods. The meager jobs she managed to scrape together were barely enough to cover the rent, let alone the needs of a growing child.

Selina's decision to take up the mantle of Catwoman was never about the thrill of the heist or the allure of jewels; it was about survival—yours and hers. Gotham demanded a price, and she chose to pay it herself, risking her life each time she donned the suit to give you a chance at something better.

You grew up with a keen sense of the world, your intelligence uncovering bits and pieces of her double life. The mysterious disappearances, the luxurious items that mysteriously appeared—each clue painted a picture that you slowly began to understand.

When the time came for the truth to be revealed, it wasn’t easy

Selina’s hand glided across her vanity, fingers brushing over the cool surface before settling on a sleek black clutch. With a flick of her wrist, she turned and handed it to you.

You accepted it with a gleam in your eye, stepping back as you held it close. A playful twirl sent the emerald fabric of your gown swirling around you, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer.

“Well? What do you think?”

Selina’s stern look melted away like ice under a warming sun. Her gaze swept over your outfit, absorbing the delicate neckline, the tailored fit around your waist, and the gown’s fluid cascade to the floor.

In this small, quiet moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. For just a heartbeat, she allowed herself to pretend that the two of you were simply a normal mother and daughter, sharing a simple, beautiful moment together.

“You’ve always had a way of making everything around you look better,” she purred. “You’re going to knock the whole school off their feet. Damian’s going to need a crowbar to keep the other guys away.”

Selina reached out to adjust the straps on your dress, her touch precise and caring. Her fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, the movement as gentle as a whisper.

“Just remember, darling,” she spoke slowly, “it never hurts to stay safe.”

Ruby-red manicured nails tapped your cheek as she straightened up, a knowing look in her eyes.

Pause. Your eyes widened as you caught the hint of her meaning. “You’re not saying I—”

“I was at that age,” she interrupted with a mock-serious tone. “I’m just saying you should be prepared. Especially with the way that boy looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. Make sure he wraps something else too.”

A flush of embarrassment rose to your cheeks. You sputtered and fumbled with the clutch in your hand. “Mom! What the hell?! I think that’s enough advice for one night!”

BEEP!

Just as Selina was about to respond, a car horn blared from outside, slicing through the evening’s quiet. Both of you turned towards the window, where a Porsche 911 emerged from the darkness. It looked painfully out of place against the backdrop of your neighborhood—cracked sidewalks strewn with trash, graffiti-streaked walls, and the occasional flickering streetlamp battling the encroaching shadows.

“Looks like your chariot awaits,” Selina said, her hands sliding up your shoulders as she gently nudged you toward the door. “Have a great time, but keep your wits about you. Gotham’s never as calm as it seems.”

With one final hug, you stepped out of the apartment and descended the narrow, dimly lit staircase. As you reached the bottom, you emerged into the cool night air, where Damian stood by his car parked right under a street lamp.

He was impeccably dressed in a deep black suit that seemed to swallow the surrounding light, giving him an almost smoky allure. An emerald button-up shirt peeked from beneath the jacket, its rich hue a perfect match for the striking color of your dress.

Damian’s smoldering gaze warmed as he saw you approaching, a small, approving smile curling at the corners of his lips. He lifted two fingers in a beckoning motion, and though you rolled your eyes, you stepped forward.

“Beloved,” he greeted, extending a hand to you. “You look stunning.”

“Hi, handsome,” you grinned, taking his hand and stepping closer to press a gentle kiss against his lips. Damian responded with a soft hum, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he tilted his head slightly. The kiss deepened just enough to make the moment linger, leaving a warmth that held between you.

Just as you were about to lose yourself completely, Selina’s voice sliced through the night air.

“You’re going to be late!”

Damian pulled away from you so abruptly that it looked as if he’d been yanked back by an invisible force. His face flushed a patchy red, a blend of embarrassment and irritation. He shot a sidelong glance at Selina, his eyes quickly shifting back to you.

Damian huffs, releasing a sharp exhale through his teeth. “Shall we go?”

The click of the car door echoed as Damian opened it for you, his lips twisting into a scowl. You settled into the plush passenger seat, the soft fabric of your gown rustling as Damian carefully lifted it to prevent any creases.

While you adjusted yourself in the seat, you glanced back and waved at Selina, her silhouette framed against the windows. A snort escaped you as you noticed the deadpan look Damian shot in her direction.

Damian was always somewhat awkward around Selina. As Robin, his view of Catwoman was clear-cut—she was a criminal to be dealt with. And yet, he still held a deep respect for her as your mother.

Once he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car roared to life with a smooth, powerful purr. The sleek vehicle glided down the streets with impressive speed, Damian navigating through traffic with a confidence that bordered on recklessness.

As he shifted gears, the radio flicked on, filling the car with a soft, pulsing beat.

This may be the night that my dreams might let me know All the stars are closer All the stars are closer All the stars are closer This may be the night that my dreams might let me know

Tilting your head back into the seat, your hair bunching around your shoulders, your thoughts drifted to the first time Damian took you for a drive. Both of you had been sixteen then, and his aggressive maneuvering had left you gripping the seat, your heart racing as if you were in a high-speed chase. Now, though, the thrill was familiar, adrenaline thrumming steadily in your blood.

The ride was brief but exhilarating, and soon the car pulled into the school’s parking lot. Sleek cars and limousines lined the lot, each more extravagant than the last. Students and their dates, dressed in their finest formal wear, mingled and laughed, making their way toward the entrance.

Stepping out of the car, the crisp night air greeted you like a refreshing embrace, carrying the delicate scent of fresh flowers and the faint strains of classical music wafting from the entrance. The soft glow of string lights and lanterns illuminated the path ahead, casting a warm, golden hue over the scene. Damian drew you close, his arm slipping around your waist as you walked together.

The ballroom was stunningly elegant.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their shimmering prisms scattering colorful reflections across the polished marble floor. Tables draped in white linens, adorned with fresh roses and flickering candles, lined the room. The dance floor gleamed under the ambient light, already alive with couples swaying gracefully to the gentle strains of Franz Liszt.

The whole scene practically screamed old money.

You were going to die.

You’d never quite get used to events like these. Over the years, you’d been to your fair share of galas and charity balls, mostly because of your relationship with Damian and that brief, awkward phase when Selina was involved with Bruce.

Each time, you had a knack for stumbling through social minefields, unintentionally insulting high-profile guests or spilling wine on someone’s multimillion-dollar gown And, without fail, the next day’s press would seize the opportunity to spotlight you and your social faux pas.

Gotham Academy, with its glossy veneer and elite crowd, was just another arena

It was a breeding ground for rich fucks, each one more insufferable than the last. The halls echoed with the chatter of kids who had everything handed to them, their lives a far cry from yours. The only reason you’d managed to slip through those gilded gates was thanks to the Martha-Wayne scholarship. Without it, you’d still be stuck in the middle of nowhere with your mother, scraping by on whatever scraps you could find.

“Ya amar, are you going to keep staring at the floor? Or may I have the honor of requesting a dance?”

Damian’s voice cut through your self-deprecating spiral as he snapped his fingers in front of your eyes.

Blinking up at him, you pursed your lips. “I don’t know... this is a really interesting floor.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Oh, really? Pray tell, what makes it so interesting that you’d rather stand here instead of dancing with me?”

“I don’t know. I could stare at it all night,” you hummed, crossing your arms. “Plus, we’ve got to keep our thing going, you know? I can't give in that easily.”

“Our thing? What thing?” Damian blinked.

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but still want each other carnally,” you said, throwing your head back as you laughed.

"Tt," Damian deadpanned, reaching out to grab you by the waist. He lifted you off the ground, your feet barely brushing the polished marble beneath. You wrapped an arm around his neck and giggled, holding on as he carried you toward the center of the ballroom.

“You never miss an opportunity to mortify me, do you?” Damian scolded, gently setting you back down on the floor. Both of you assumed a waltz stance, your hands finding their places on each other’s shoulders and waist.

“I think I just enjoy keeping you on your toes,” you replied with a grin, swaying gracefully with him as the music enveloped you.

Damian's lips curved into a wry smile, despite his grumbling. "You know how much I despise these games you play, Cat."

“Oh? Cat?” you laughed, the rich, velvety fabric of your dress brushing against Damian’s sleek suit as you danced. “Are we going for the classic Batman and Catwoman trope here? Because once Selina retires, I could always take up the mantle of the next Catwoman.”

Damian’s smile dropped, replaced by a look of exasperation. “Please do not. I fear what will become of you then."

“Why not?” you asked, batting your lashes coyly. “Does the idea of me as Catwoman not thrill you?”

Damian made a noncommittal sound, his ears tinged with red as he averted his gaze.

“Don’t get shy on me,” you said with a grin, your voice dropping to a teasing purr. Your hand glided up his jaw, your touch lingering just enough to be felt.

A shadow of something intense flickered in the depths of his jade-green eyes. Damian’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his gaze narrowing into a mock glare that barely concealed the warmth beneath.

“I guess I would not... be entirely opposed to that idea,” he muttered.

He led you into a slow dance, his movements fluid and graceful, reminiscent of those quiet, moonlit nights in his manor’s kitchen. You recalled late evenings when the room was bathed in the soft, silvery glow of moonlight streaming through the windows. On those nights, the world outside felt far away, leaving just the two of you swaying gently to the soft strains of music playing from his phone’s speakers.

It was moments like these that peeled away his walls. In the soft glow of the ballroom lights, the tender, affectionate side of him emerged—like a rare flower blooming in the quiet of twilight. Each layer revealed a deeper, more intimate part of him, offering you a special kind of attention that made every shared glance and touch feel intimate.

“This crazy, almost maddening attraction I have for you makes me feel like I want to stab myself,” Damian murmured as he spun you around, the fabric of your dress flared out like a blooming flower at his feet.

“Wow, you really have a way with words,” you said with a smile. “Admit it—you love every second of it, don’t you?”

Damian’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Perhaps,” he conceded. He drew you back into his embrace as he guided you across the dance floor, your bodies moved in perfect harmony, like two pieces fitting together in a delicate puzzle.

The world around you seemed to blur into a gentle haze of soft music and swirling lights. Damian’s gaze, however, remained sharp and vigilant.

“I don’t like how they’re staring at you,” he murmured, his green eyes narrowing as they scanned the crowd. His voice carried the familiar edge of possessiveness. “Perhaps they need a reminder of whom you belong to.”

“Damian, no—”

Before you could protest, Damian leaned in, closing the distance between you with a smooth turn of his head. The kiss was tender yet heated, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip.

Anyone who glanced your way would see Damian Thomas Wayne with his lips pressed against yours, making it clear who he was with. It wasn’t the first time he’d been so overt—there was that incident when you both ended up in detention because he couldn’t keep his hands off you by your locker.

You whined softly, trying to pull away, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips in a delicate, glistening thread. “We’re in public—”

“Shut up,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough yet tender, before diving back in. The breath you had been holding escaped in a slow, shuddering sigh, mingling with his as he drew you closer, his hands firmly cupping your hips.

Damian seemed to swallow every sweet sound you made, chuckling softly as you mumbled curses against his lips, your grip on his tie tightening. The world around you blurred into insignificance, leaving just the two of you enveloped in a bubble of intense sensation. Your breaths came in ragged bursts, eyes fluttering open and then closing again, lost in the heat of the moment. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless and flushed, the lingering electric buzz of the kiss still crackling in the air between you.

Damian and you locked eyes, his face blank until a shit-eating grin slowly spread across his face.

"I hate you so much," you scowled. “You’re impossible, Damian Wayne.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice a low, teasing whisper. He leaned in, using your own words against you. “Admit it—you love every second of it, don’t you?”

Before you could respond, he tilted your chin up, his lips brushing lightly against yours as he whispered, “Let them see. They’ll just have to get used to the sight.”

The kiss was softer this time, more tender, as you swayed gently against him, savoring the moment of calm.

BOOM.

Without warning, the tranquility was shattered by a deafening explosion.

The sound of shattering glass and a violent burst of energy tore through the ballroom, turning the once elegant space into a scene of utter chaos. Crystal chandeliers swung erratically from the ceiling, their light flickering in disorienting patterns as debris rained down like confetti. The room erupted into a frenzy of screams and frantic movement as everyone scrambled for cover.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, your voice barely piercing through the screams and destruction.

CREAK.

A sudden, ominous groan echoed through the room, drawing your gaze upward. The chandelier, swaying precariously, seemed to shudder as its support gave way. Then, with a heart-stopping creak, the massive fixture began to fall.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Damian’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip.

“Move!”

You scrambled to keep up with his rapid pace, but your long gown snagged on the edge of a flipped table, sending you sprawling to the floor with a jarring thud. Your hand slipped from his grip, and Damian, realizing you were no longer beside him, turned back in a surge of panic.

With no time to guide you gently to safety, he yanked you up from the floor. He pulled you both behind the overturned table, using it as a makeshift barricade.

The chandelier crashed down with a thunderous roar, sending shards of glass, splintered wood, and shattered fragments spiraling through the air. As the debris rained down, you screamed and reached out desperately for Damian. Without hesitation, he rushed to your side, enveloping you in his arms. He pulled you close, pressing your face into his chest and shielding you from the rain of debris with his body.

Finally, the noise of destruction faded into a heavy silence. Damian lifted his head slightly, peering down at you.

“Are you okay?” he panted, voice edged with worry.

Shaken up, you heaved and shook your head vehemently, unable to find the words through your trembling fear.

“What the fuck was that?”

"I don't have a single clue," Damian shrugged, eyes still scanning the room as he peeked over the edge of the table.

From the smoke emerged a middle-aged man, suspended in the air by his mechanical arms—sleek, metallic, and bristling with a variety of intimidating gadgets. The arms whirred and slashed through the air with deadly force, carving through the walls and sending more chunks of debris down.

“You think you can just throw away everything I’ve built?” the man roared. “This school, this place, it’s all been a mockery of my work, my life! I’ve sacrificed everything for this and you’ve repaid me with nothing but scorn!”

Damian cursed under his breath. He settled back down, biting off the fingertip of his glove and pulling it off with a grunt. Pulling up his sleeve, he tapped an emergency button on his wrist, activating a silent alert to his family.

“We have to go,” Damian whispered. He shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped you in the fabric, pulling you close. He lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he sprinted through the chaos.

He carried you swiftly through the building’s hallways, the shrill sound of distant alarms and the echo of your hurried footsteps reverberating off the walls. When you finally reached a safer location, he paused briefly, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any further threats.

“I’ll be okay,” you said, your voice trembling as he gently set you down. You gripped his hands tightly, trying to steady your breath. “Do—do you have your suit?”

“It’s in the car,” Damian grumbled, frustration evident in his voice as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ll stay here and start helping with evacuations,” you say, already moving to slip out of your heels, the shoes discarded onto the floor.

Damian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off, shaking your head firmly.

“No,” you said firmly, your scowl sharpening. “None of this again. I make my own decisions.”

Damian’s expression hardened. “You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not supposed to be in harm’s way.”

"It's just evacuations. I’m not going to be fighting," you met his gaze as you stood up straight again. “And I’m not going to stand by while others are in danger.”

“Fine,” he said begrudgingly, “but stay hidden and keep away from the villain.”

“I know,” you said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You met his gaze lovingly before turning to re-enter the chaos. The corridors were now a frenzy of frantic students and faculty, desperately trying to evacuate.

Damian shot you one last look before sprinting back toward the parking lot.

You slipped back into the ballroom, heart pounding in your chest. The smoke swirled around you, as decor and debris lay strewn across the floor. Amid the chaos, you spotted a girl trapped beneath a toppled table, her muffled cries barely reaching your ears. Clutching your dress in your hands to avoid tripping, you hurried over to her.

“Hey, we need to move!” you called out, shoving aside the debris and wrestling with the heavy wood. With a determined push, you finally freed her from the wreckage. She wobbled as she stood, but you swiftly caught her, your grip steady and reassuring. “You’re okay now. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Everyone’s heading for the exits. We need to move quickly,” you replied, guiding her toward the nearest emergency exit. The sounds of the villain’s rampage echoed through the room, punctuated by the distant wail of sirens.

Once the girl was able to get back on her feet and run on her own, you rushed to assist another group, directing them towards the exits and making sure they stayed calm.

SWISH.

There was a sudden, sharp slice, and you snapped your head back toward the ballroom. Damian had reappeared, now clad in his suit.

“Robin?!”

With a decisive, diagonal slash, his katana cleaved through one of the villain’s mechanical arms. The blade sliced through the metal with a sharp, resonant hiss, and the arm’s severed end burst into a cascade of dazzling sparks. Pieces of twisted metal flew through the air like shrapnel, their jagged edges catching the erratic light from the shattered chandeliers.

His cape, a deep, blood-red shroud, billowed behind him like a dark wave, trailing in his wake as he moved. The clash of his katana against the villain’s mechanical arms echoed through the room, each strike a precise blur of red and black.

Amidst the fight, your eyes were drawn to a figure huddled in the far corner. The student, paralyzed with fear, was frozen in place, eyes wide and fixed on the destruction unfolding before them.

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards them, nimbly navigating through the scattered debris and overturned tables. As you reached the student, you crouched beside them and gently placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Alright? We’re going to get through this, but you need to move—now!”

The student’s terrified eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as they slowly began to rise with your help. Their breath came in shallow, panicked gasps, each exhale mingling with the smoky haze that filled the air. You grunted, your muscles straining as you slipped your arms beneath their shoulders, lifting them to their feet.

"Move!" you urged, guiding the student toward the doors. Their feet stumbled over the debris, but you kept a firm grip on their arm, pulling them along through the chaos. As you hurriedly navigated the wreckage-strewn floor, you felt a strange tingling sensation creeping up your leg.

It started as a subtle prickle, almost like static electricity, but quickly grew into an unsettling sensation that made your skin crawl. You glanced down, trying to pinpoint the source, but the shifting shadows and debris obscured your view.

The legs of a spider, sleek and shadowy, crawled up the fabric of your emerald dress. Its tiny, pulsating body was nearly camouflaged against the rich material, and its eight eyes glinted with an eerie green glow, peering out from the shadows of the gown.

Oblivious to its presence, you continued leading the student toward the safer part of the ballroom, focused on ensuring their escape.

The spider’s glow intensified, its eerie green light pulsating with an ominous rhythm as it crawled up your arm. Just as you pushed the student to safety, a sharp, burning sensation erupted where the spider sank its fangs deep into your skin. A piercing scream erupted from your lips. The searing pain surged through your body, radiating outwards from the bite like a fiery wave. In a frantic, instinctive reaction, you slapped at your bicep, your nails digging into the skin.

Panicked, Damian’s head snapped in your direction, eyes widening in alarm as he spotted you writhing in pain. In his moment of distraction, a metal arm swung violently towards him. The arm connected with a sickening thud against his side, the force of the impact sending him hurtling through the air.

Damian crashed into a wall with a bone-jarring slam and his body crumpled to the ground, the force of the impact visibly shaking him. He lay there, gasping for breath, spit and blood spilling from his chin.

Groaning, he raised his head, feeling the crack in his mask press against his face. Strands of dark hair fell over his single exposed eye, partially obscuring his vision. Squinting through the haze of pain, he cursed under his breath as he saw the villain advancing toward you.

The spider's venom surged through your veins, a wave of searing, unbearable pain radiating from the bite. You stumbled and collapsed to the floor, struggling to stay upright. Pain tore through you as you crawled toward a nearby pillar, your fingers clawing weakly at the surface

Through the haze of your deteriorating vision and the throbbing fog that clouded your mind, you could barely make out the figure of the villain advancing toward you. His mechanical arms whirred with a menacing hum, their sharp, glinting edges catching the dim light of the ruined ballroom.

The last thing you saw before darkness swallowed you was a blur of red.

With a snarl, Damian lunged, his katana slicing through the air with deadly intent. The blade crashed into the villain's mechanical arm, the impact resonating like a gunshot. Sparks exploded from the severed joint, showering the room in a cascade of crackling light as the villain staggered, his metal limbs convulsing with malfunction.

Sliding across the debris-strewn floor, Damian executed a perfect skid, coming to a stop on his knees. He positioned himself between you and the advancing threat, his katana held in a poised, defensive stance.

“Is this all you’ve got?” Damian seethes. “A pathetic tantrum because your grandiose plans fell apart? You’re nothing more than a washed-up has-been clinging to your failures.”

“You think you know what it’s like to sacrifice everything? To watch your life's work crumble? You have no idea what I’ve lost! My research was going to change the world!”

The villain’s mechanical arms flared up in response, their whirring growing louder as he prepared to strike again. Just as an arm was about to land, the piercing whir of a batarang sliced through the air. It struck the villain’s mechanical arm with precision, a bright explosion erupting from the impact. Damian grunted as he braced himself, holding firm against the shockwave, his muscles straining to keep steady. One hand instinctively dropped to your head, shielding you from the force.

The villain recoiled in surprise, momentarily disoriented by the sudden blast, his movements faltering as the shockwave threw him off balance.

Suddenly, the room was engulfed in darkness. The lights flickered and died, plunging the space into a pitch-black void. Shadows danced along the walls, punctuated by loud bangs and the crackling of debris.

Through the darkness, Batman emerged, his imposing figure cutting through the shadows. The sound of his cape rustling was almost like a herald of doom as he got into a fighting stance.

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was a low, commanding growl, “take the girl. I’ll handle it from here.”

Damian wasted no time, swiftly scooping you into his arms. The icy chill of your skin against his own drove a spear of terror through him. The panic clawing at the edges of his mind was a monster he couldn’t afford to face, not now. He focused on keeping you as steady as possible, though your limp form felt like dead weight against him.

He tore out of the ballroom, his shoes skidding on the polished floor as he barreled into the hallway. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale burning in his lungs, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. The entrance was just ahead.

Bursting through the doors, Damian propelled himself into the open air. The scene outside was pure pandemonium. Parents screamed for their children, kids clung to each other in terror, and the harsh wail of sirens pierced the night. Ambulance lights flickered like distant stars in the dark, red and blue blurs.

Now outside, Damian spotted a group of paramedics and, without a second thought, sprinted toward them. His hands shook slightly as he laid you down on the gurney, the coldness of your skin searing itself into his memory.

“She’s unresponsive,” he rushed out in a pant. “Pale skin, cold to the touch. Vital signs are unknown. She needs immediate attention.”

As he spoke, Selina rushed over, her fur coat billowing with each urgent step. The strands of her short, dark hair whipped wildly around her face, framing eyes wide with fear.

She bent down to your level, her breath visible in the cool night air as she placed a trembling hand on your forehead. Her fingers, warm against the alarming chill of your skin, recoiled slightly at the clammy coldness that greeted them. Selina winced, her gaze hardening as she took in the stark contrast between your deathly pallor.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice taut with concern.

A paramedic, swiftly assessing your condition, replied, “We think she’s in shock. We’ll stabilize her and check for any other issues.”

Selina’s eyes, reflecting a storm of emotions, darted between you and Damian.

“Go,” she urged Damian, her voice carrying a firm edge despite the underlying tremor of her fear. “I’ve got this under control. Go take down that bastard and make him pay for what he did.”

Damian hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you. Every muscle in his body screamed to stay, but there was still a threat that left no room for hesitation. He nodded and without another word, turned and sprinted back toward the building. His cape flared out behind him, a streak against the night sky.

Selina's eyes followed Damian's retreating figure momentarily before refocusing on the paramedics. She watched them with sharp eyes, taking in every action and every word. Her hand never left your forehead, each pass of her thumb trying to provide comfort that her heart couldn’t.

As the haze of unconsciousness began to lift, you slowly became aware of your surroundings. The dim, unfamiliar light filtered through your closed eyelids, and a dull, persistent ache from the bite lingered in your arm. You winced, raising a hand to your arm to find that the pain had subsided, leaving only a faint, dull throb. There was no scar, just a vague sense of discomfort.

Was that just a dream?

Before you could think about it anymore, your aunt's face was already in your peripheral.

Selina's voice caught in her throat as your eyes began to flutter open. Her grip on your hand tightened involuntarily, a mix of relief and worry playing across her features.

"Hey, there," she said softly. "You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart."

You stared at her in confusion, teeth chattering against the biting cold. Selina’s eyes softened and she shed her coat, the plush fur rustling softly as it slipped from her shoulders. With gentle hands, she draped the coat around you, the dense, velvety texture brushing against your skin. The rich, warm scent of her perfume mingled with the coat’s embrace. As the coat enveloped you, its heat began to seep into your shivering body, gradually easing the icy grip of the cold.

“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered, the words more for her own reassurance than yours.

The night was supposed to be a celebration, a rite of passage, a milestone to cherish. Instead, it had turned into yet another brutal reminder of what Gotham’s streets truly were: a merciless battleground that chewed up hope and spat it out with a sneer.

God, this city was shit.

Selina sighed, pushing those thoughts aside for the moment. The priority now was clear: get you home and into dry clothes.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing a path along your cheek as if trying to reassure herself that you were truly okay.

“Dizzy,” you mumbled. A soft groan escaped your lips as you tried to shake off the haze clinging to your senses. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, only to snap open again with a jolt as a sudden realization struck you.

“Damian—where—” you gasped, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. In a frantic attempt to sit up, you tried to push yourself upright, but the paramedics and Selina were quick to intervene. Their hands gently, yet firmly, guided you back down onto the gurney.

“Whoa, easy there,” Selina murmured soothingly. “Don’t push yourself. The paramedics said you’re in shock. You need to stay still for now.”

You could feel the gentle pressure of her hands, steady and reassuring, as they anchored you in place. Her eyes, bright green, locked onto yours, conveying more than words ever could. She took a breath, her gaze flickering to the paramedics who were working swiftly around you.

“And Damian is... with his father,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gave you a look, the unspoken meaning in it clear.

Selina’s gaze shifted back to the paramedics with her usual air of confidence. She squared her shoulders, her tone now authoritative.

“Is there a chance I could take her home?” Selina asked, brushing her fingers through your hair with a gentle but firm touch. “It’s getting late, and I’d really rather have her safe in her room.”

The paramedic, a no-nonsense woman named Helen, gave Selina a critical once-over before shifting her gaze to you. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, took in your pale face and the faint tremors still running through your body.

“Well, she’s stable enough for transport, and we’ve done the basic stabilizing procedures,” Helen said, her tone pragmatic. “But she’s still in shock, and it could be risky to move her too quickly. Are you sure you can handle her?”

“She’s my kid. I’ve dealt with worse, believe me,” she replied with a wry grin.

Helen’s gaze softened slightly, though her voice remained stern. “Alright, but she’ll need monitoring for the next 24-48 hours. Light meals, plenty of rest. And no strenuous activity. She should see a doctor as soon as possible.”

Selina’s fingers idly traced patterns on the back of your hand as she listened intently to Helen’s instructions.

“I’ll make sure all of that’s taken care of. Thank you,” Selina said, her voice carrying a rare note of sincerity. Helen nodded, seemingly satisfied with Selina’s response. She handed Selina a card with basic instructions and a phone number to call if any complications arose.

Despite your reluctance to leave while Damian was still knee-deep in the battle, your hazy mind and Selina's insistence eventually led to you being pushed into the back of your aunt's sleek convertible.

The drive was a blur of city lights and concerned glances from Selina. You leaned back, your head resting against the cool, smooth leather of the seat. The gentle hum of the engine beneath you was a steady, rhythmic comfort, a small solace amidst the turmoil.

"Don't worry," Selina murmured, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to check on you. "Damian can handle himself. And the Bat will make sure he's safe. You rest. I'll tell you if anything happens to him."

Her words were a quiet promise amidst the rush of the city outside. You nodded weakly, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on your eyelids. As the city sped by, its neon glow and shifting shadows blending into a dreamlike haze, you closed your eyes. The fatigue finally overtook you, and you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

༻⊰───⋅

Sunday , 9:02 AM - Your room, Catwoman’s Apartment.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

There was a deep, throbbing ache in your arm, an insistent rhythm that seemed to pulse with each heartbeat, dragging you reluctantly from the depths of sleep. Your eyelids fluttered open to the soft, golden light spilling through the curtains, bathing your bedroom in a warm, comforting glow.

Through the thin walls, the distant murmur of the waking metropolis began to seep in—honking horns, the rhythmic rumble of early morning traffic, and the intermittent chatter of pedestrians starting their day. Occasionally, a siren's wail pierced through the background noise, a sharp reminder of the city's ceaseless pulse.

Faintly, through the walls, the muffled sound of the living room TV drifted to you.

“Good morning, Gothamites! Looking for another beautiful day here in the city. Clouds to start off with, but a pleasant afternoon ahead. Temperature’s in the high 40s—”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

With a groan of frustration, you reached out to silence the blaring alarm clock. As you swung your arm toward it, the clock was crushed under the force. It slammed into the table, which splintered and buckled under the impact. Wood cracked and shattered, sending fragments skittering across the floor. The sudden and violent destruction jolted you fully awake. You stared, wide-eyed and disbelieving, at the mess, your arm still extended in mid-air as if it was frozen.

“What the—?” you muttered, your voice trailing off as you inspected your hand. It looked like your hand, perfectly normal and familiar. Just a normal hand.

Carefully, you climbed out of bed, wincing as you surveyed the mess of splintered wood and scattered debris strewn across the floor.

You paused. A sudden, sharp tingle pulsed through your arm, like an electric jolt that raced beneath your skin. It was both invigorating and disorienting, sending a rush of awareness through your senses. Instinctively, you turned your head, your reflexes sharp as your hand darted out to catch a fly that had buzzed too close.

To your shock, your fingers closed around the tiny insect with a reflex you didn’t know you possessed. You stared at the fly, trapped gently between your fingers. Carefully, you opened your hand and let the fly go.

It darted away, disappearing into the room.

“Okay... That was new,” you muttered, shaking your head as if trying to clear away the confusion.

The tingling in your arm surged again, sharper and more insistent this time. You winced, the sensation both alien and unsettling, your mind struggling to grasp what was happening. Instinctively, you extended your hand, your gaze fixed on it in growing confusion.

Then, without warning, your fingers curled involuntarily, and something shot out from your wrist. A thin, silvery thread erupted into the air, glistening with a strange, iridescent sheen.

THWIP.

The web snaked through the room, swift and fluid, before anchoring itself with a solid thunk against the wall. The sight of it—a web, unmistakably organic, stretching taut and firm—left you gaping in shock.

“What the actual fuck,” you freaked out. You took a hesitant step forward and tugged on it, half-expecting it to dissolve under your touch. But the webbing held firm.

You tried to pull it away, but it stayed stubbornly in place. Grunting, you pressed a foot against the wall for leverage and yanked harder. The webbing resisted with surprising strength, and a series of warning cracks echoed before a chunk of concrete broke away, crumbling under the strain.

The sudden release caught you off guard, sending you stumbling backward. You lost your balance and fell hard onto the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of you. For a moment, you just lay there, sprawled across the hardwood, your chest heaving as you tried to make sense of what just happened.

“What the fuck did I just get myself into?” you muttered to yourself, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up in your throat.

When you finally moved to stand, curiosity got the better of you. Experimenting, you aimed your hand at different parts of the room, determined to understand this strange new ability.

This time, when you extended your hand, the web shot out with precision, latching onto a nearby lamp. You gave it a pull, and the lamp skidded across the floor toward you.

There was another tingle, and you perked up. The sensation was almost electric, a ripple of anticipation that seemed to focus on your bedroom door. As you turned toward it, the door swung open and Selina stepped in, dressed in her pajamas.

"What's with the noise...?” she trailed off and froze in the doorway, her eyes widening as they took in the chaos of the room. Broken wood and scattered debris covered the floor, interspersed with strands of glistening webbing clinging to the walls and lamp.

“Oh,” Selina murmured in surprise. She stepped cautiously over a particularly large piece of broken wood, her eyes darting around the room. Her gaze lingered on the webs, her brow furrowing as she raised an eyebrow at you.

Selina stared at you, blinking slowly as she processed the scene before her. Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hold back a laugh or perhaps some form of disbelief.

“Accidentally discovered superpowers?” she echoed. “I think you've been around your boyfriend and his family too much. Baby—”

Selina’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to face the now doorless doorway. She blinked at the empty space where the door had once been.

“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s one way to explain things.”

You stood there, face heating up as you tried to pull your hand back. “Y-Yeah, I think I need to work on my control.”

Selina shook her head, a frown on her lips. “Okay. First... Let’s get this mess cleaned up before the landlord starts asking questions. And maybe—just maybe—try not to redecorate the whole apartment with your... spider silk.”

༻⊰───⋅

A warm mug of coffee was placed in your hands as Selina settled beside you. You took a sip, but your knee continued to bounce in an anxious rhythm. She had called the school earlier to inform them that you would be taking it easy for the week, citing sickness as the reason.

You cast a glance at the puncture marks on your wrists with a mix of disgust and unease.

Oh, you felt sick alright.

"Alright," Selina said, taking a sip from her own coffee mug and setting it down with a clink. "We need to figure out what’s going on and how to handle it. The sooner we get a grasp on this, the better."

You nodded absentmindedly, flexing your fingers around your mug.

Selina sat with a laptop positioned between the two of you, its screen a chaotic mosaic of open newspaper articles and news websites. Humming softly to herself, she clicked through the pages, her eyes darting across headlines and images. The rhythmic clatter of her clicks was punctuated by occasional pauses as she focused on key details.

“Am I a meta?” you blurted out, staring at your reflection in the dark liquid of your coffee.

"Well," Selina began, her tone measured, "based on what we've seen so far, you're likely displaying meta-human traits. Though," she added with a wry smile, "I'm pretty sure I’m human despite the whole cat shtick. Same goes for your mother. Your father...well, that’s a different story."

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by that?"

"Secretive guy. Kind of insane," Selina murmured to herself. "He did genetics research—"

She paused.

"Wait a minute," she said, her voice trailing off as she seemed to piece together something significant. "Your father was involved in genetics research..."

Selina licked her lips before grumbling and typing into the laptop. The screen flickered, and she pulled up a dense academic paper with your father's name prominently displayed. The title read: "Genetic Enhancement through Arachnid DNA Integration: Potential and Pitfalls."

She stared at the screen for a moment, a mix of disbelief and concern crossing her face. "Total nutjob," she muttered, shaking her head.

You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the technical jargon. "So... what’s it say?"

Selina’s fingers danced over the keyboard, scrolling through the dense paragraphs. "It describes experiments involving spider DNA to enhance human traits—strength, agility, and reflexes. Medical use too."

RING!

The sharp ring of your phone shattered the silence, jolting you both. Startled, you fumbled with the mug in your hand, which slipped from your grip and tumbled toward the floor. Your reflexes kicked in, and your foot shot out, catching the mug mid-fall with a swift kick, sending it flying back up into your hand. You blinked.

Selina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, her gaze flicking from the mug in your foot to you. She grabbed a notepad from the desk, her pen already poised, and began scribbling furiously.

“Fast reflexes,” she muttered.

You scrambled to set the mug back on the table, your hands slick with sweat as you snatched your phone off the couch.

"Hello?" you answered, nervously wiping your damp hands on the fabric of your jeans. "W-Who’s this?"

"Beloved?" Damian’s voice crackled through your phone, sharp with an edge of worry. Arabic curses slipped through his words. “I’m sorry for calling so late. I didn’t mean to. I was knocked out after the confrontation.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You got knocked out? What happened?”

"Just a minor inconvenience for someone of my skillset," he said dismissively. "I’m fine now. But what of you? Father mentioned that Selina told him about your sudden absences from school.”

You hesitated, glancing at Selina, who shook her head vehemently. She pressed a finger to her lips, urging you to stay silent about the spider situation.

"Fine!" you squeaked. "Totally fine. Just... family matters."

Damian’s voice was laced with skepticism. "Family matters? Are you sure you’re alright?"

"Yep," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the strain. "Absolutely. Just... you know, the explosion rattled me a bit. The paramedics said I needed some rest for a few days.”

"I can head over to care for you—"

Selina rolled her eyes and extended her hand.

“Give me the phone,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. You hesitated for a moment, but the stern look on her face made it clear you had no choice. Reluctantly, you handed it over.

"Damian," she greeted him with a sickly sweet tone, "this is Selina. Everything is under control here. There’s no need for you to come breaking into my apartment."

There was a grunt before Damian responded, "Miss Kyle, I insist. It’s no trouble. I should be there to help. As any partner would."

Selina’s eyes flashed with irritation as she leaned against the couch, arms crossed. "I appreciate your concern, kid. But it’s really not necessary. She’s fine."

"Fine?" Damian’s voice took on a mocking tone. "After a confrontation like that? I highly doubt it. Recovery after such an incident can be complicated.”

Selina scowled. Her voice cut through the phone line with a sharp edge. "Damian, do you seriously doubt my abilities as a guardian?"

There was a pause.

"With all due respect—"

"I've got this!" Selina hissed. "She's safe, she's resting, and you're not needed here right now. Understood?"

There was another pause before Damian reluctantly agreed. "Understood. But if anything happens—"

"You'll be the first to know," Selina assured him "Now, go take care of yourself. I have got this handled."

"Fine," Damian said, still sounding begrudging. "Take care."

Selina handed the phone back to you, her expression exasperated. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“You couldn’t even imagine,” you snorted as you pressed the phone back to your ear. “Hi, baby.”

Damian’s voice crackled through the speakers, the faint static only adding to the gruffness of his tone.

"Tt. Hello," he grumbled, his tone falling flat. You couldn’t help but snicker, the sound escaping despite your best efforts to stifle it.

“Don’t be mad,” you whisper into the phone. “I’ll only be gone for a week. You’ll survive. Mom's right—I’m in good hands. You need to focus on recovering too.”

“Anything at all. Father and Alfred have confined me to my bed, but the window to my bedroom remains open. The sheer ignorance of their restraint measures astounds me—they failed to account for my skills in evading such confinement.”

"Please, don’t try to escape through your window on my behalf. I really don’t need Bruce lecturing us again,” you groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Very well,” Damian said with a hint of a pout, “but do remember, I am at your disposal if you should require anything.”

“Uh huh,” you hummed. “I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself, Dami.”

“And you, my beloved,” he said, his voice softening. “Until then.”

There was a beep, and the call ended. You sighed, letting your hand drop.

Selina took a sip of her coffee, her lips curling into a wry grin. “He’s just like his father—equally obsessive and protective. Must run in the genes. That or we just have a knack for ensnaring emotionally constipated men.”

You laughed, a light, nervous sound that filled the room. As you tried to drop your phone back on the couch, you were met with unexpected resistance. The phone stubbornly adhered to your hand, as if it had decided to become a permanent accessory.

“Uh…”

You squinted at the phone, wriggling your fingers and trying to shake it off. No matter what you did, the phone remained firmly in place, glued to your palm.

"Sticky hands?" Selina suggested, glancing at the notepad in her hand now filled with scribbled notes and observations. She made a note with a touch of amusement, her pen moving quickly across the page.

Grumbling under your breath, you made a few more attempts to pry the phone off your hand. “Looks like it. Just another thing to add to the list of weird,” you huffed.

With furrowed brows, you used your other hand to grip the phone, attempting to twist it away. In your distracted state, you failed to account for your newfound strength. The device crumbled under your grip, shards of plastic and glass exploding across the couch.

You stared at the wreckage in disbelief, your heart sinking. Not missing a beat, Selina quickly scribbled down “Enhanced strength” on her notepad.

You grumbled as the remnants of your phone fell to the floor, a mix of frustration and embarrassment washing over you.

"Can't we—can't we call Batman for this?" you asked, your hand nervously tangling in your hair. "Why'd you stop me from telling Damian anyway?"

Selina’s expression turned severe. Her hands gripped your shoulders firmly, guiding you to face her.

"Listen to me. Batman, Damian, or anyone else cannot know about this right now."

"What—Mom—"

"Not a word," she cut in sharply. "This is meta-level stuff we're dealing with. The Bats don’t handle metas well. We need to keep this under wraps until we fully understand it. The last thing I need is Bruce doing something to hurt my daughter."

Your face fell as her words sank in.

Selina’s grip on your shoulders relaxed slightly, and her gaze softened. Her voice took on a gentler, more empathetic tone. "Power frightens people, especially when it’s something they don’t understand. When they encounter something extraordinary, their confusion often morphs into fear. And fear... well, fear can make people see threats where there are none."

She took a deep breath, her expression grim. "Batman, in particular, has contingency plans for every potential threat, even for his closest allies. We—I can't risk him viewing you as one." Her fingers tightened on your shoulders, a silent plea for understanding.

"Alright," you said quietly, trying to steady your voice. Lying to Bruce was one thing. But Damian... Damian was different. The thought of deceiving him felt like a weight pressing heavily on your chest.

Selina seemed to sense your hesitation. Her gaze softened, and she placed a hand gently on your shoulder. “I know it’s not easy,” she said, her tone soothing. “Damian is—”

“Different,” you finished for her, the word catching in your throat. “He’s always been there for me, and now... I’m just lying to him.”

Selina nodded. “I understand. But you know, that boy looks up to his father. There’s no telling he won’t spill something. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

"I get it,” your lips pursed. “But... what do we do now?"

Selina’s expression shifted from intense to thoughtful as she took a step back, her grip loosening. She glanced at the scattered remnants of your phone, then at the notepad filled with her hastily scribbled notes.

"Well," she sighed, "we need to find another space. I think you've done enough damage in our apartment."

 ༻⊰───⋅

NEXT ->

#the suffering begins!#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman

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totally-here · 3 months ago

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Post Gotham war Jason and post GIW Danny scrap

Jason is laying on the ground. He can hear water running to his right and can see his parachute tangled in trees overhead.

The explosion must have sent him farther away than he hoped. His back hurts from the landing after he disconnected from the parachute. His hands are still shaking from residual adrenaline that in turn makes his throat constrict in fear.

Fucking Bruce. Of all the things he could’ve done to break their cycle.

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A never ending cycle of them fighting over morality, making up, then fighting again without any real progress being made. The Joker’s still kicking in one way or another, and Jason still doesn’t talk with his family much outside of vigilante activities.

And now he won’t even be able to go out as Red Hood, because his own fucking adrenaline will immobilise him with fear.

Jason never should have tried to work with Selina. He’s self-aware enough to admit that. It was stupid, trying to mess up her operation from the inside after realizing just what she was setting up the goon workforce for, even if it wasn’t her intention. She was only letting him work with her to shove it into Bruce’s face, anyway.

Because that’s all Jason will ever be to them. Batman’s biggest mistake. A Robin turned corpse turned mass murderer. Like he hasn’t been actively not killing people for at least a year now. Hasn’t shot a gun in months.

And yet here Jason is, trying to tell if his ribs are broken without moving. His ears are ringing faintly from the collision with the meteor and then the explosion at the observatory.

He ditched his comm to Oracle and the rest of the bats earlier, and the batwing is one with the wreckage now. But there are cameras everywhere in Gotham. They would see he got out, and probably send someone to pick him up. Maybe.

Jason doesn’t know if he can stomach looking at his family right now. Not when he can still feel the effects of whatever Bruce stuck in him in the back of his throat, in the back of his mind. It’s like he’s been flayed out, all his scars and weaknesses on display.

“Hey man, you okay?” A man steps into Jason’s vision. Around his age, if not younger. His eyes that verge on the edge of uncannily blue have deep eye bags, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. He looks at Jason like one would a particularly uninteresting bug. Jason shivers.

It takes a few tries for Jason not to swallow his words. As it is, he still slurs on the swear. “Just fucking peachy.”

The guy raises an eyebrow, looking very doubtful. He looks Jason up and down, then sighs. He rights himself from leaning over and runs a hand through his long black hair with white streaks in it. It’s choppily cut, and not in a tasteful way. It’s like a five year old found scissors for the first time. It’s annoying how it actually works for the guy.

“I have a first aid kit in my truck, wait here,” He orders, then walks off to the left. Jason turns his head to watch him. There is a small white truck parked to the side of a road that no cars are passing through. The guy opens the back door and digs around, then emerges with a white box.

He kneels on the grass next to Jason and slowly reaches out to help him sit up, narrating as he does. “I’m gonna lean you against the tree so that I can get a better angle for your forehead.” He does that, and Jason realizes that yeah, his forehead is bleeding. Maybe he snagged it on a branch on the way down, or maybe it was debris. “I’m going to disinfect it, brace for the sting, I guess.”

It does sting, but Jason doesn’t flinch away. It’s not the exhaustion from the back to back panic attacks that’s calming him. He knows what that exhaustion should feel like, this is not it. As the guy gently washes off the blood from Jason’s forehead with wipes and presses bandaids onto it, he feels like he’s being enveloped in a warm hug.

“Why do I feel safe with you?” It stumbles out before he can stop it. The guy doesn’t stop inspecting Jason’s arms for cuts to answer. Only when he finds traces of burns to wrap against infection does he say anything. Jason’s too warm for a November night.

“Well. There are two options. Either you’re concussed, or you’ve died before.” Jason takes in a sharp breath, but the guy doesn’t seem to notice. “Oh, three, I guess. Since it could be both.”

“I don’t feel concussed," Jason says. And he doesn’t. Maybe slightly dehydrated, but his head doesn’t hurt and he’s not nauseous at all. The slight slurring is just because he’s tired, probably.

The guy hums, leaning back to check his handiwork. There’s bandaids on Jason’s forehead and bandages along his arms. He closes the first-aid kit with a snap and stands to his full height. His face is haloed by the full moon behind him. His eyes reflect in the light. “Guess it’s option two, then. I was leaning towards that, anyway. Once Deads tend to have that effect on me, and you do give off Realms Touched vibes.”

The guy offers a hand, and Jason stares at it for a moment before taking it. It’s like touching an ice cube. “I don’t know what that means.”

The guy pulls him up easily, despite being built like a broad-shouldered twig and at least five inches shorter than Jason. Probably a meta, then. Or maybe magic. The guy lets go of Jason’s hand to run a hand through his hair again. The motion brings attention to the layer of scar tissue around his left eye. Likely scarred over in the past month or so.

“Yeah, my bad. Should’ve assumed. Um, short version: I have what amounts to a biological need to help peop-” He stops, purses his lips, then starts again. “To help the undead. And that stretches over to you, I guess.”

“And the Realms Touched thing?”

He shrugs, not looking at Jason’s eyes, but up at his hair. At the white streak sticking out against the black. “Let me guess, you had an encounter with some green not-quite-liquid stuff sometime after you died?” Jason nods once, slowly. “Yeah, that’d do it. The green stuff’s from the Infinite Realms, and doing stuff with it kinda marks you for people with an eye for it.”

“People like you?” Jason narrows his eyes, but it really does seem like this guy is telling the truth. That this is just some weird coincidence that the spooky guy (who cannot be local. Jason might have ditched the mask, vest, and gloves, but he still has his padded shirt with his symbol on it. No true Gothamite would dare to approach the Red Hood with medical supplies) just happened to stumble upon Jason. The complete blasé attitude he has toward the pits helps. A League devotee would be more reverent.

The guy tilts his head to the side, his face scrunching. “Technically, yeah. I meant more, like, formal magic users. I’m… different?”

“What are you, then?”

“It’s complicated?” As Jason’s unimpressed look, he tries again. “I’m, I’m kinda like a protector spirit and a psychopomp rolled into one? But, a psychopomp that’s not good at their job.”

Jason gets the feeling that that’s the best explanation he’s going to get out of this guy. He’s already shifting away, looking past the trees and at what’s probably Gotham proper.

“So I have a sense for dead things. ‘S actually why I ended up coming through here. Something that felt like a meal was coming here, but now it’s faded.” He points past Jason, and he follows his finger, moving to face the green smoke rising from the observatory, glowing in the night sky. “You know what happened?”

“Big fuckin’ meteor,” Jason mutters. The smoke is dispersing slowly but surely. A news helicopter is already buzzing around the observatory site.

“Sure, why not?” The guy mutters back. His eyes flick to Jason before jutting a thumb backwards. “Welp, I’m gonna get back on the road. You need me to call someone for you or something?”

Jason thinks about it. He could call someone to pick him up, or check in with Rose. But. That would mean eventually going back into Gotham. Back into the fire. Back into a city that’s being overrun with thieves he had helped support. It’s not shame that stops him, but fear.

Fear that if he goes back, it will just start the cycle again. That it’ll just take another form, but he’s just going to be stuck fighting. He’s always fighting, has always been fighting. If he goes back and he starts fighting again, it will never stop. Fear lodges into the back of his throat once again and Jason realizes that he might not be able to fight like that anymore.

And standing outside of Gotham, seeing the smoke coming out of it color the same as the Pits that still haunt him, Jason thinks that maybe fear and fighting are all he has left.

He wonders what would happen if he let himself lose those, too.

“Actually, which way are you going?” Jason asks the guy, who squints at him.

“North.”

“Sounds good.” Jason spins around and walks determinedly towards the guy’s truck. The guy stutters and hurries to catch up to him.

“Wait, what? You’re just gonna… come with me? Are you sure you’re not concussed?” He says, but stops at the driver’s side door and just watches as Jason slides into the passenger seat.

Jason smiles at him, all teeth. “Come on, Charon. Aren’t psychopomps supposed to lead the dead to their next destination?”

The guy just looks at him for a moment, then opens the driver’s side and slides in. He glares at Jason, but it doesn’t feel like there’s any real dissatisfaction behind it. “You’re not dead now, and I told you I’m bad at my job.”

Jason shrugs and swings his feet onto the dashboard, ignoring the guy’s disgruntled and insulted look. “Then you’ll get some on the job training.”

“I’m on the run from the government. This isn’t going to be a fun adventure, dude.”

That does make Jason pause. But he also knows the government. “What’d you do?”

He scoffs. “Exist. Fuckers think they’re entitled to my organs. For science, they said.”

A victim, it sounds like. Hell, maybe even a clone. Not likely to be a criminal. Jason shrugs and shimmies more into the seat, making a show of getting more comfortable. The guy frowns, then closes his door.

“You know what? Fine, guess I’m doing this now. But we gotta set some ground rules for this roadtrip, okay?” He points at Jason with his left hand, leaning over a little in what could have been intimidating if he didn’t look dead on his feet. Jason recognised the faint lichtenberg scarring on his finger. Recently electrocuted, and badly. “First, get your dirty ass boots off of the dash.” Jason obliges. “Thank you. Second, seatbelts stay on. I know how I drive, and it is not good.”

He emphasizes his point by buckling himself in and glaring at Jason until he does the same.

“Third, um, I don’t have a third one.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Oh, tell me a name I can call you. Yeah, that’s the third.”

“Jason. What’s yours?” He should have hesitated. All bat protocol for getting into unmasked situations with a stranger determines giving a fake name, and to not even think about anything close to real. But he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. This guy clearly doesn’t know who Red Hood is, if he doesn’t recognise the symbol, so Jason doubts he’d recognise the first name of Bruce Wayne’s dead son, and then connect the dots.

“Danny.” Danny starts the truck and pulls back onto the empty road. It must be two or three in the morning at this point. Maybe later. “Hope you have an enhanced ID, ‘cause we’re going to Canada.”

Jason, in fact, does. Not one that has his name on it, and it’s for New York, but the picture looks similar enough.

So the original idea for this was they head to a cabin aunt alicia has in canada, but I got like 2000 words into this then realized i didn't have the motivation to continue, plus i wasn't confident about the characterization (i'll admit i read the gotham war event in a vacuum) so i just scrapped it. But!! I figure i would post it here in case someone else wants to take the idea and run with it :P

#dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #not tagging the outer fandoms as to not clutter those tags #also i had to look up what states had enhanced ID for this i legit thought everyone had it #but ig it makes sense that states w/ borders to canada have it and not others #anyway this was mostly the product of me reading gotham war and being like what was that???#i think im still confused tbh

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bbbbbbbbatman · 1 year ago

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The thing is, no matter who you ship Batman with, there's no version of the identity reveal that's not objectively hilarious.

Whether it's Selina or Clark or literally whoever, just imagine that you have fallen in love with Batman. This is a man who is very intelligent, likely the most capable and competent person you know, one of the few humans who can go toe to toe with metahumans, and he acts a bit aloof and gruff, but as you get to know him you realize that he is an extremely caring person. He is out night after night, putting his life and safety at risk because he loves his city and feels such a strong responsibility towards making it better in any way he can. He is one of the bravest men you know and you admire his skills and dedication.

And finally, finally, he is about to reveal his identity to you. You know how much this means, how much trust is involved, and then he pulls back his cowl and it's motherfucking Bruce Wayne. Like what even--How do you respond to that? How do you reconcile everything you know and love about Batman with Bruce Wayne. That's--that's not...This is supposed to be a big romantic moment and you can't even respond because what the fuck??

You feel a headache coming on.

#bruce will remember and deeply value the face selina made when she found out forever #he can practically hear superman's head exploding #i know talia already knows but imagine the meltdown she would have if she didn't and just found out #any reaction that is not a character bluescreening after finding out is incorrect #batman #bruce wayne #superbat #batcat #dc #dc comics #mine

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thebigbadbatswife · 7 months ago

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Working For It

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne x F!Reader x Selina Kyle

Summary - Bruce and Selina love to make you work for his cock.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Thigh riding. Fingering. Face sitting. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Bruce and Selina are a little mean. Aftercare.

Word Count - 1.9k

“Come on, baby. We both know you can do better than that,” Selina purrs from where she lays on the bed. She’s on her side, one hand supporting her head while the other is between her thighs, playing with her clit.

All you can do is whine and moan as you roll your hips, almost desperately, against Bruce’s bare thigh. His back is against the headboard, eyes dark as he watches you cover his thigh in your slick. His cock is rock hard, the head red and dripping precum. He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know, Selina. I don’t think she wants my cock that badly.”

His words have you whining out of frustration. You do want his cock. You really do, but the slicker his thigh gets with your juices the less friction there is, making it harder to keep your pace and chase your pleasure.

“I do,” you gasp. “I do want your cock! I want it so badly.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless?” he asks.

You nod eagerly. You do. You really do. It’s been on your mind more often than it hasn’t all week and it’s been driving you crazy. But both of your lovers seem content with torturing you instead.

“Gonna be a good girl and come on my thigh then?”

“Yes. I want to be your good girl,” you mange to choke out. You try angling your hips differently, getting your clit to fully press against his body, but it doesn’t really work. Instead it only leaves you more frustrated than you were before.

Bruce must take pity on you because the next thing you know you’re being briefly lifted from his thigh while a towel is draped over his thigh.

“There we go. That’s better,” he coos. The hand on your hip, that’s been keeping you stable this entire time, gives you a gentle squeeze.

You have already started rutting against him again, the friction created by the towel giving you more control and feeling of it dragging against your engorged clit feels amazing and has you finally getting closer to your release.

Bruce is enjoying the fucked out expression on your pretty face as you moan and fuck yourself on his thigh. You’re so goddamn wet that you have already soaked the towel, seeping through the fabric and clinging to his skin. His attention is pulled away from you as Selina moves. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and he moans into the kiss. His free hand comes up between her thighs, his fingers easily sliding through her slick folds and he pushes them up inside of her. She moans as she starts to fuck herself onto his fingers and he takes the opportunity to wrap his mouth around one of her nipples.

Your eyes are completely focused on Bruce and Selina. You love watching your two lovers kiss and touch each other. It adds to your own excitement, adding to the pressure building up deep inside of your lower stomach. Selina’s gaze meets yours, mischief dancing in those green eyes of hers.

“I think she should only be able to have your cock if she can cum in the next 30 seconds.”

Bruce chuckles and it’s clear he’s agreeing with her. They both love torturing you so much and you’re so intoxicated by both of them that all you can do is listen to them because you want it. You want his cock. No, you need his cock. You need to feel him splitting you open and filling you up so badly, until you’re so fucked out you can’t remember your name anymore.

“20 seconds,” Selina calls.

As mean as he can be at times, Bruce is still nice enough to keep a grip on your hips, continuing to give you the leverage that you need as you continue to grind your soaked cunt against him.

“Ten seconds.”

They both can tell you’re close by the way that your moans continue to grow louder and louder.

“5 seconds, baby. Time’s almost up.”

By the time that Selina reaches 3, you’re crying out Bruce’s name, your head thrown back and your eyes shut, as your orgasm steals away your breath. He catches you as you collapse against him, your head coming to rest against his chest as your body shakes and you trying to regain control of your breathing. As you come down from your high, catching your breath, he praises you and tells you what a good girl you are for them. Selina’s hands come to rest on your hips and she presses feather light kisses to your sweat soaked skin, adding her voice to his praises.

Their words start to spark more heat inside of you, a growing need starting to build back up from deep within. There’s only one thing that you can think of that will help soothe it.

“I can’t believe the two of you timed me,” you mutter once you finally feel recovered enough. “I better get my reward.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bruce replies. You feel Selina pull away and he gently flips your positions so that you’re now laying on the bed with him on top. He presses his lips against yours in a slow and sweet kiss. You sigh into the kiss as your hands come up to cup his face.

He pulls away sooner than you would like for him to, resting on his knees as he gets you to wrap your hips around him and he lines his cock up with your entrance. You gasp and your back arches as his cock starts to push inside of you. That delicious stretch as your body accommodates his large size has your fingers gripping the bedsheets. He bottoms out inside of you and stills for a moment.

Selina kisses you before settling her legs either side of your head, facing Bruce. Her pussy is absolutely dripping with need, her clitoris red and engorged, poking out from beneath its hood. You swallow thickly at the sight, your cunt squeezing around Bruce’s cock, drawing a deep groan from him. You have to taste her. As you tug her down to get her to sit on your face, Selina laughs.

“Always so eager to please,” she purrs, already gently rolling her hips.

You answer her by wrapping your lips around her clitoris and sucking, drawing a moan from her. Pleased, you release her clit and lap up her arousal, groaning at her taste.

Your groan quickly turns into a moan as Bruce slowly pulls out before roughly thrusting back into you. He sets a steady pace, each thrust making you moan against her pussy. You’re still so sensitive from your previous orgasm you can feel the pleasure quickly building up inside of you. Your nails dig into Selina’s muscular thighs in attempt to try and ground yourself.

Though you can’t see either of them right now, you know that they are kissing. Their moans and groans are muffled and his pace has slowed, letting the pleasure that's been building up inside of you slowly fizzle out.

As you roll your hips, looking for some friction and trying to get him to move faster again, you push three of your fingers inside of Selina and wrap your lips around her clit again. You know when you have found that sweet spot deep inside of her by the way that she suddenly gasps your name and her body squeezes your fingers while her thighs squeeze the side of your head. Her nails scrape against your skin and she rides your face more insistently, chasing after her high.

Bruce’s pace slows down even more. He drags his cock against the walls of your cunt, making sure you can feel every last vein, as he watches Selina fall apart thanks to your deft tongue and fingers. Her mouth drops open as she cries your name and her entire body shakes as her orgasm crashes into her. The sight is almost enough to have him cumming right there. She rolls off of your face, collapsing against the mattress as she breathes heavily.

He sees his chance and moves forward. Your mouth and chin are covered in her release. He can’t help himself. He licks a stripe from your chin to the tip of your nose, groaning softly at the tangy taste. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss and happily letting him push his tongue into your mouth.

As the two of you kiss, Bruce starts to move again. This time faster and a little bit harder than before. Each thrust has you moaning wantonly as your nails start to dig into his back. The springs of the mattress creak with each thrust and his head comes to rest in the crook of your neck.

Slender fingers surprise you as they press against your overly sensitive clitoris and start to rub tight circles against it. You’re sure that you must be drawing blood as the grip you have on him tightens the closer you get to your climax. Pleasure is thrumming through every inch of you and you know he’s as close as you are. His thrusts are growing sloppy and his usually grunts and groans are turning into moans of your name.

“Come on, baby. Let go.”

You have no idea which one of you Selina is actually talking to. Perhaps both of you? In the end it doesn’t really matter. You get there first, your body locking up and squeezing his cock as the edges of your vision turn fuzzy and all you can hear is your heart thumping away in your ears. Bruce falls straight over the edge with you, the squeezing of your cunt too much for him, and he buries himself as deep as he can, as he fills your pussy with his cum.

By the time you come back to your senses, Bruce has already pulled out of you and is cleaning you up, while Selina has your head resting in her lap and is gently stroking your hair. The feeling of the damp washcloth coming in contact with your pussy has a sharp gasp leaving you as you realise just how sore you are down there.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your knee. “Got a bath running for you. Should help with your discomfort.”

“And I’ve ordered takeout from your favourite place,” Selina says. “You must be starving.”

“Sounds good,” you reply. She’s not wrong, you are hungry, and food from your favourite place sounds absolutely divine.

Your orgasms have left you completely boneless and exhausted, but it’s the good type of exhausted. One where you feel so content with your life and loved by the two people that you love most in this world. It also leaves you pliable and easy for Bruce to manhandle as he lifts you from the bed. You curl into his embrace, snuggling against his body, which has him chuckling. As he carries you toward the en-suite, you find yourself desperately fighting to keep your eyelids open as sleep tries to claim you.

The feeling of hot water washing over your body doesn’t help. It’s a battle the entire time to keep yourself awake. One that both Bruce and Selina seem to find amusing.

It’s only after your bath and your food has arrived that you wake up a little bit more. The smell of the food making your stomach growl and your mouth water as your body decides that eating right now is way more important than trying to get some sleep.

Once you’re full, you have no issues with falling fast asleep. Especially when you’re finally tucked in bed with both of Bruce and Selina’s bodies pressed against your own.

#batcat x reader #bruce wayne x reader #selina kyle x reader #batman x reader #catwoman x reader #bruce wayne smut #selina kyle smut #batcat smut #x reader #batman x catwoman x reader

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luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago

Text

The Wedding Planner (Blurb)

Neglected!Reader ends up planning Bruce and Selina's wedding. The wedding goes great. Reader's life does not.

GN!Reader

You should've know being a Wayne would come back to bite you in the ass. Even though you had chosen to remain ignorant to the comings and goings of the family since you had moved out, for your own peace of mind of course. It had still managed to come back and take a massive bite out of your ass.

When you had moved out of the manor and started trying to make it on your own you luckily had some wealthy and non-wealthy friends. Friends that were more than happy to let you couch surf. Or, guest room surf in some cases. Your big break came when one of those dear friends had asked you to plan their wedding. You had accepted graciously, happy to help and wanting to thank them for all they had done.

It was stressful and eventful. There were tears, a little bit of blood, a shit ton of lace, and a mountain of flowers. But, God, was it satisfying. Watching your own plan coming together. The way you had prepare for everything that could have possibly gone wrong on such an important day. The tide pens, the red wine, the back up camera for the photographer. You had tamed the volatile chaos into a gorgeous and memorable symphony.

After that, you had found your calling. It wasn't anything heroic or noble. But, it was human and all you. And, you were damn good. It wasn't long until you had built a reputation of planning The best wedding in Gotham on any sort of budget. And, all the while, that forever distant family of yours left you the fuck alone. In fact, they had forgotten all about your existence. Which you didn't exactly mind. Avoiding the bat-shit, you called it.

Still, it came back to haunt you, eventually. Things rarely stay dead in Gotham it seemed. To bad you weren't in the business of planning funerals or your might have known that.

It all started when you took on a prestigious client that made you sign NDA after NDA before the first meeting. (Your first hint.) One of Gotham's richest and wealthiest your newly hired secretary had told you. (Your second hint.) You meet with the fiancé of this wealthy individual. A lovely and vivacious woman of sharp taste and wit by the name of Selina Kyle. Who had told you her future spouse was quite the sweetheart despite his serious demeanor. (Final hint, your out.)

Imagine your surprise when your own father comes striding into your office giving your client a kiss before turning to face you. In a way you felt proud of how you could easily read the shock on Bruce Wayne's face even after years of never speaking to him. When you plaster on a professional smile - having perfected the professional persona over your years apart - and hold out your hand for him to shake, it fills you with satisfaction to watch him falter. You damn near giggle when you go over the guest list and notice your name nowhere on it. You saw the way Ms. Kyle shot him suspicious looks at how shaken he seemed at meeting you.

You'd have paid to be a fly on the wall when she finally confronted him about it after they left the meeting. You'd still pay to be a fly now. Because if you were going to be trapped in a web, you'd rather be trapped in one that would kill you quick. Not in this web that was bound to slowly choke you and move your limbs like some macabre puppet.

Suddenly, after that fateful meeting, the family that had long forgotten you it now trying to burrow their way into the life you have built for yourself. And, they don't care how many holes they leave in it. As long as they had the pieces of you in their own lives, nothing else mattered.

Not like you didn't break your heart years ago trying to give them those same pieces they’re now tearing you apart for. Only for them to have been tossed aside until you picked them back up and finally moved on.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooooo, I know I haven't posted much, but I ended up coming up with a few other Reader concepts and they have taken up most of my headspace. But, this was an idea based of of Smalltown!Reader. (The oc Smalltown!Reader is based off of always ends up a wedding planner as a back up plan.) Which I have the rough draft of Part 8 written for. I swear it's coming.

A/N: I should also start cleaning out my ask box. And, my drafts. (Been throwing things in there for later.)

A/N: I feel like I should expand on this at some point. Might be something to consider.

#Weddingplanner!Reader #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #platonic batfam #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #platonic batfamily #yandere dc

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demonic0angel · 11 days ago

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Ma'am, I need more of Dan/Wraith in Arkham 😭 and maybe him managing to get out and meeting Dick again. Pretty please with strawberry cream on top 🥹🥹

(I’m lowkey surprised by how many people like this AU XD It got rather long lmao)

Part 1, part 2

Selina stared at the man that was sitting in her living room alongside her best friends. Harley was happily chattering his ear off, with Ivy interjecting now and then. The man, Wraith, patiently listened to Harley’s ranting, with only a little objecting whenever she went off-topic too much. He did not breathe and he rarely blinked, similar to a statue.

Or she supposed he was more like a phantom, with his abilities that he had used to help them all escape Arkham when they had attracted too many guards’ attentions.

Although he was creepy and he made the temperature of her living room drop several times, he had helped them all and he was very polite. She couldn’t find any real fault in him except the way her instincts wanted her to not look at him directly, like a haunted painting.

“So now that we’re free, what do you wanna do?” Harley asked. Selina focused back on the conversation, as Wraith hummed and Ivy and Harley turned to look at her with various levels of eagerness.

“There’s a new jewelry exhibit opening up tomorrow. Want to take some diamonds?” Selina asked, speaking up as she glanced at Wraith.

Wraith hummed. “Thank you, but I think I’ll decline. If any of you need help, I am willing to offer my services, but—”

“Is Nightwing still in Gotham?” Harley asked, interrupting Wraith, who glared at her.

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s still visiting.”

“Actually, I would love to assist you three in any way. My powers are at your service. What time are we going to the exhibit tomorrow?” Wraith suddenly said, looking very eager. Selina blinked at the whiplash before looking at Harley and Ivy, who both looked amused.

It was Ivy who mouthed the words, ‘He likes Nightwing,’ to her, which made her hold back a laugh.

She could remember that little Robin that used to cheerfully break someone’s face with a flying somersault, and that same little boy had grown up into a vigilante with almost flying abilities with the way he moved and fought. Wraith was a criminal, since he was in Arkham, but he didn’t seem too bad. In a way, it reminded her of her and Bruce.

“Well. I think Ivy and Harley can take the other vigilantes, right? I can take Batman and you’ll take Nightwing?” Selina said. Wraith perked up and nodded happily.

How cute. She was so not telling Bruce about this beforehand, so she could laugh about his expression later.

A day passed, and the four of them traveled to the museum when it was night. By now, news of Harley and Ivy being broken out was already known, so security had gotten a little more strict. Still, it was nothing with all of their expertise and Wraith’s unexplained meta abilities. They snuck in easily and looted all of the gold, gems, jewelry, and antiques they saw.

“Where’s your bag?” Selina asked, as she eyed Wraith holding some pearls and gems without a bag to contain it. He was dressed in a dark leather suit that had been originally Bruce’s cat suit— it was nice to hope that he would join her one day— but was now repurposed for Wraith. Her question was answered with a small smile from Wraith as he shoved his hand into his chest, making the gems disappear. Her eyebrows rose but she just gave a nod and moved on.

After that, the bigger and heavier items were given to Wraith to keep. Selina was almost a little worried by how much they trusted him, but Harley didn’t seem to notice and only she and Ivy had some anxiety about it. However, Wraith didn’t seem to care either, and listened to their expertise without any hesitation. It was probably because he was younger than them by at least a decade, she realized.

He was extremely fascinating, and Selina suddenly understood why Harley was so interested in him like a scientist towards a petri dish.

The Gotham heroes finally arrived, just as they loaded up everything in the car. Wraith perked up when he saw Nightwing amongst the vigilantes coming towards them.

Selina couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden cheer on his usually bored or blank expression.

“Okay, Harley, Ivy, you two go back to the hideout. Wraith, you can take me away if we need to, right?” Selina asked, smiling as she recalled Wraith’s intangibility and invisibility abilities yesterday.

Wraith nodded and the other two drove off without hesitation, leaving Selina and Wraith facing the Gotham vigilantes. Wraith wagged his clawed fingers in a greeting at Nightwing, smirking broadly.

“Hello, Nightwing. It’s good to see you again,” he purred. Selina was watching the spectacle gleefully, occasionally glancing at Batman’s covered expression, wondering if she was going to see a good show today.

Nightwing faltered in his steps before he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. However, he answered pleasantly, “Hello, Wraith. I see you’ve befriended the Sirens.”

“Mhm. They helped me a lot so I could see you again.”

Nightwing’s cheeks darkened but through the shadows, Selina felt like she could see a bit of red on his face. “I see. Well, I’ll have to ask you guys to give up the jewelry you stole. We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“Please do the hard way,” Wraith purred again, even throatier than before. Selina had to choke on her giggles as Batman stiffened in horror, staring between his oldest son and the criminal.

Nightwing coughed and took out his escrima sticks. “Well, you’re under arrest, Wraith. Surrender and we won’t have to—”

“Oh my god, just fight him! Stop flirting!” Spoiler screamed and then they all flew into action. Selina took out her whip, but before she could make a move, Wraith darted at her, wrapped his arms around her, and then turned invisible before they flew off through the walls.

Selina blinked rapidly as she watched the museum grow smaller and smaller into the distance. “… you could fly the entire time?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m very strong.” There was a touch of deep arrogance in Wraith’s voice. Then he sighed, “But I was told not to make too much trouble. So it’s better to make an early escape than stick around.”

“I would’ve thought that you would’ve stayed to flirt with Nightwing some more,” Selina teased.

“It’s weird to flirt in front of his siblings,” Wraith said in distaste as they flew over the building roofs and past the clouds to Selina’s hideout. “I’ll find another day to fight him without voyeurs around.”

Selina burst into laughter. Yeah, she could completely understand why Ivy and Harley wanted to take him in now. He really was quite interesting.

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nana-luvy · 21 days ago

Text

. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 / 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 .

warnings: fluff, female!reader, cocky!Luke, daughter of Hecate!reader, short mention of telekinesis (if you're not too ok with magic), double pov, use of Y/n, foul language (kinda casual swear words but still, if you don't like em..)

In which they try to find their way to the other.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

__ His type __

It hadn’t been eventful at camp in a couple years, probably since you had come to camp. You‘d never gotten sent on a quest, as much as you would’ve loved to finally go back to the rest of the world, you had never been involved in big drama around camp, had never had your life at risk from a surprise attack in the woods and had barely even been the target of a silly prank.

Your life for the past years had mostly consisted of training, eating, sleeping and praying at the most, maybe you had squealed once in excitement the day you discovered who your godly parent was, but that was it. Over the time you’d started making friends, seeing as you barely had any half-siblings, going out with people from other cabins more than from the one you lived in, the Hermes cabin. Because, apparently, you did not deserve a half-family cabin if you weren’t child of one of the major deities. Harsh.

But over the course of the past few months, you had surprised yourself being more… full of emotions that before, and all because of a silly reason. Blame it on late blooming of teenage hormones, but you were by now knees deep in a one sided crush on Luke Castellan, a crush you considered profoundly stupid when he had basically everything to himself and could just attract anyone he’d want. You had started noticing him only recently, after years of being acquaintances ; you’d first met him a few days after reaching camp, when he apparently came back from a quest, just a 16 years old teenager, short messy brown hair and almost-chubby face in comparison to the present.

But now…. you could spend tens of minutes speaking of him, even if you would afterwards brush it off as mere observance, speaking of his looks, his personality, his habits... How he had grown taller over the span of barely a trimester, how his curl started looking so defined and shiny when he had finally started taking care of his hair after you’d spent a whole 10 minutes, at a party on the beach, dissing it. How he had this determination to him whenever he did something, like he would solely focus on it just to succeed, how he took care of the newcomers ever since he got promoted to head counselor of his cabin, making sure they had everything and didn’t feel the tiniest bit alone, even going out of his way to ensure they were comfortable after the never-ending stress that was their trip to camp. How, even through his practiced mask of kindness and laid-back attitude, he had this small tick on his face and this tilt of his head when he was annoyed, how he would always rub right over his scar first when he defeated someone during sword training…

Clarisse and Silena always made fun of you whenever you would bring Luke up, knowing they were in for a ride because it was more often than not a flow of words they couldn’t stop until it did on its own.

And it was the case just this instant.

“Argh, why do I even like guys, huh ? That’s fucking bland, I swear…” you said, throwing your arms in the air in defeat.

You were all sat at a small table, no too far from the training grounds but just a little away from the path that went towards it, so there was just a little privacy. The sun was high up in the sky and you four girls, Annabeth having joined the group after lunch, were thankful for the shadow cast upon you by the large tree above the table.

“I mean, yeah, it is, but I can’t throw the first stone at you on that one..” Selina answered, shaking her head with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“And are you reaaaally that disappointed by men, huh ? Because, weirdly, something tells me otherwise, girl.” Clarisse chimed in as she put her card down and cheered a little, playing War against an Annabeth who looked clearly exasperated by her own lack of luck. “Something with curly hair and a flirty smile.”

“Ugh, don’t even start me on him…” you replied, running your hands on your face in exaggerated frustration. “I swear, he’s so.. ugh.. Like, sure, you know, he’s cute, and he’s tall and stuff, but it’s such a pain to have a crush on a boy, you get me ? And even more when the boy knows he’s good looking and plays along. Would be so much easier with a gir-”

“Not much easier with a girl.”

“Sure, Clarisse, sure, whatever you say like you have experience.” you replied, nodding your head at her like you’d do to a child while Clarisse held back from saying something else. “I just mean, guys just feel so simple-headed but- I don’t know…”

“You do know.” Annabeth only replied in a knowing tone, not tearing her eyes from the game she was loosing against Clarisse.

“Okay yeah, I do know. It’s just- He’s so infuriating! Like-” you caught a rustle in a bush nearby on your side, head snapping towards it, but came back to the conversation when you saw nothing. “-what do you mean you flirt with every single person, you know ? I don’t mean it like I’m jealous, by the way, it’s just really misleading.” The three other girls looked between themselves with a similar, shared gaze. “It’s not even like he seems to have a type, like- bro just picks up another girl at a party, they chat or a few days and sometimes she just disappears from around him like their link never existed. What a fucking jerk…”

You mumbled the last part, furrowing your brows because it didn’t feel fair sometimes, for your heart to tug when you were thinking of someone you found so… terribly not crush material. Not that he wasn’t, but you preferred lying to yourself on the matter, enjoying the feeling of being even the littlest in control over that particular emotion that just acted on its own.

“Except he has a type- Clarisse I swear to gods, you have to be cheating ! How else do you win a war game 5 times in a row ?”

“I don’t cheat, mini-girl, it’s called talent ~” Clarisse cheered, throwing her cards in the air in victory. “And as we bet, loser cleans up, thank you in advance.”

As Annabeth sighed in defeat, crouching to pick up the cards that had slipped right under the table, you spoke up again, continuing your little dragon origami. “What do you mean he has a type ? I mean, he just seems to flirt with whatever walks his way in the slightest.”

“She’s just jealous that he doesn’t flirt with her when she walks his way.” Silena whisper-yelled at the two others, poorly hiding it behind her hand in mock confession.

“Si ? Shut up, I love you.” You did a small heart gesture your friend’s way, both apologetic and purely sarcastic.

“No I mean, I know he kinda has someone in mind, you know ? I don’t even remember when he told me that…” Except she totally remembered. Annabeth had really, really wanted it to come around naturally, but she was growing tired of the unspoken situation and the relentless talks about it.

“What- how come you never told me ? Annabeth, I plead you, give me your in-tells and I’ll give you my desserts for a whole month. During every meal. Just tell me what's his type.”

“But I can get as many as I want already, technically.”

“Then I’ll get up and go get them for you. Please.”

The younger girl raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat interested by the proposition, before letting out a sigh. “Fine, as you want, I’ll tell you what I know.”

“”Beth ? I love you too.” you said in your most serious tone.

The younger stayed silent for a little while, before parting her lips again. “Wow. You’re really love-bombing us today, huh ? Anyway, his type…” Annabeth tried her best to look like she was thinking back to find the memory, when she just had to look at the girl in front of her to find a perfect description. “He’s into girls around his age, mostly, or just barely younger, someone who doesn’t dislike fighting and even likes to put up a fight in general when she doesn’t get what she wants, dare I say kind of a lunatic-”

“Wait, what ? He’s into spoiled princesses or..?” Clarisse said, cutting Annabeth off, but it only made the latter let out a chocked out snort.

“I mean, if you say it.”

“Is there more ?” you pressed eagerly, almost gripping the side of the table without realizing.

The younger girl looked at you with raised eyebrows, but chose not to call out the obvious. “Well… he likes someone slightly crazy but still pretty nice-”

”You’re literally describing half the girls at camp.”

“Oh my gods! That’s it, I’m not helping you out. You can find out yourself if your crush likes you, girl.” she replied, trying to sound annoyed when she was totally amused by the situation. But for the sake of her sanity and her friend’s, she had to act. So she gathered the cards, threw them in her pocket, and bid her goodbyes. “See you around, and no ‘him talk’, I can’t take it anymore!”

You sat dumbfounded for a second, before looking to the two other girls who already stared at you, putting your hands up in surrender. “Yeah, alright, alright, I’ll stop…” you said, pushing yourself off the table’s bench. “See you later ?”

“See ya ~”

But the next days felt even more boring than usual, nothing happening that was out of the ordinary, so you had to entertain yourself a little. Searching for something to do while finally cleaning your bunk, which you had been meaning to do for ages, an idea popped in your mind: how about investigating to find your crush’s crush ? What could be healthier ?

You’d heard from someone who probably had heard from someone before that Luke was calmer these past few weeks, showing way less of his usual ‘flirty jock’ behavior, and many were suspecting a possible someone had been the cause. So you were decided to find out who the ‘possible someone’ was, because after all you had already come to terms with how your hopeless one-sided crush would never have a proper conclusion, and maybe this would be a way to finally get your closure.

So, pink ink pen and black notepad in hand, you went back outside to take a seat under a tree in the Cabin area, seeing campers walk around in the already hot morning, some going to the training grounds, a few Apollo kids busy with stocking back the inventory of the infirmary, a handful of demigods with their bathing suit under their camp-issued orange shirts and towels in a bag. Sitting comfortably on the soft grass, you wrote down everything Annabeth had told you the day prior, trying your best to remember her words.

“His age or a little younger, likes fighting.. stubborn, a little crazy… a girl..” you mumbled to yourself, writing it all in the bright pink ink you adored.

“Hey, Y/n! You coming to the lake with us ? Clarisse says the water is extra warm!” Chris invited, walking close to you as he got out of his cabin, a tube of sunscreen in hand. As he got closer, his eyes tried to look at the notepad before you hurriedly closed it. “What you doing ?”

“Hey- oh uh, nothing just… drawing.”

“You draw ? Since when ?” the boy continued, confused. He had known you for years now, he didn’t remember seeing you draw, you just weren’t really artsy.

“Well, since today, that’s the thing. So I’d prefer you don’t see my drawings okay ? I don’t…yeah.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I get it, totally.” Chris replied, shaking his head slowly. “Do you want to come with us to Canoe Lake though ? Clarisse and Silena are already there, and some others should be joining soon.”

The idea sounded tempting, but you were getting more and more curious as time passed, and wouldn’t want to delay you little investigation, even for hot, clean, translucent lake water. “Nah, man, sorry I’ll have to pass on that one. Maybe another day though ?”

“Yeah, sure, have a nice…drawing ~”

Chris waved before walking away, leaving you to your own mind again. You scanned over your now open notepad, trying to mentally swipe over all the people that matched the description, and writing the names down. And the names took a whole page, with a title on top of it saying “Castellan, who tf do you like (you have really generic tastes)”.

“Okay, now let’s reread it..”

‘Already dated her… they talked a while but it didn’t last.. oh maybe- no, right, already dated…’ you thought to yourself, trying to ignore the fact you had so little entertainment in life that you relied on Luke to bring the events with his misleadingly numerous relationships rumors.

After a while of crossing names out, mumbling to yourself in the shadow provided by the tall tree you were hiding under, you decided just theorizing wasn’t enough, you had to see the chemistry first hand to find the missing piece needed to unveil the answer.

So you got up, dusting the grass and dried weeds off your clothes before lightly walking towards the training ground. It felt like the boy spent most of his time there, surrounded by a swarm of little flies he did his best to keep around as he fought with all his might every time they were looking. One of your worst fear was probably to become one of said flies.

You had aimed right as you came around the training area, hearing loud cheering from a group of other girls sitting next to the wooden swords rack, Aphrodite and Apollo daughters, among others, hand in hand to cheer on their number one boy who made his personal crowd roar with a look its way.

You took a seat not too far, under a tree again, well aware that the 11am sun would burn your sensitive skin if you stayed under its rays too long, resting your back against the trunk and trying to examine the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. Luke was fighting with a boy from the Ares Cabin, his name was… Lyle ? He had been at camp for a year or so, not too bad of a fighter of course, but…

The group on the side started to loudly cheer and applause as the curly haired boy tackled his opponent to the ground, the tip of his sword right under his chin in a perfect warrior stance, and even you couldn’t help your gaze from softening in awe : you’d seen him fight and win so many times before, at training, capture the flag, all of those, but there was just something so mesmerizing in the energy he’d put in each combat and the determination in his eyes as he’d let his sword slash through the air.

From your own space, you tried to study all interactions, hoping to get anything that’d help shorten your still very long list of names: who Luke shot his flirty look too, who he’d grace with a word from his lips or a smile, as fake and empty as it may be. But you were totally taken aback when, upon barely waving at the magnificent Drew Tanaka that batted her long lashes at him, the boy started walking right your way, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Y/n, hey ~” he simply started, stopping a couple feet in front of you as you still sat on the dry grass. “What are you doing here ? I figured you’d be at the lake with the others.”

“And I figured you’d be with the others.” you quickly answered, trying to close your notepad as casually and discreetly as possible.

“Yet here you are, staring at me from afar. Who would’ve thought.”

“Yet here you are, speaking to me like this isn’t the most words we’ve ever exchanged when no friends surround us. Who would’ve thought ~” you replied, an angelic smile playing on your her lips in response.

Luke’s smile only stretched more. “Ladies and gentleman, she fights back!” he exclaimed with a laugh, talking to his imaginary crowd before crossing his arms over his chest, flexing the muscles involuntarily like it didn’t have you melting to a puddle right there in front of him. “No but seriously, what are you doing here ? Wanna spare a little ?”

“With you ? To lose with not a single hope to ever win ? No thanks, I’m g-”

“What’s this ?” the boy cut through you sentence, crouching in a second to snatch the notepad that still sat on your crossed legs, flipping through the first pages. “Waw, your commitment to living in pink is insane, hard to believe you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite sometimes.”

You heard him mutter something you couldn’t make out but brushed it off, immediately trying to catch the pages from his hands, only to fall forward on your knees as he got up and took a step back quickly. “Give me the notepad, Castellan!”

“Oh wait- That’s your special pancake recipe? I guess the peanuts really add something huh ?”

“My notepad!”

Definitely not wanting to chase after the child he was acting like, you simply used her telekinesis, the only control you had over your still weak magic granted by your goddess of a mother, sending the notepad flying from Luke’s hands right into yours. You immediately ripped the list from the little book, folding it messily and putting it in your jorts’ back-pocket. “You never act as an adult, do you ?”

“Nahhh, I still have one year of being a teenager, and I sure as Hells will make the best of it.” he said, turning around going back to you in long strides with a pout on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, turning around in direction of the Cabin Area and away from him, though you could hear him try to keep up and a small smile crept up your lips. But the smile turned upside down as the boy almost ran in front of you, raising the paper high so you could see it in his hands while he read. Your eyes widened significantly, patting your back-pockets frantically and realizing he had just swiftly took the page from you, but before you could properly react, he crumpled the paper in a ball and tossed it in his back, colliding with your head.

“You forgot the right name on that list, dumbass.” Luke started, walking away and throwing his hand up in a two-fingered peace sign. “G’luck, moonbeam ~”

After a couple seconds of standing still, dumbfounded, you roared. “Castellan! Come back here!” But the boy only let out a laugh before sprinting away, escaping your reach quickly as you were left panting, laying your back on a Cabin. “When I catch you, Luke…”

Your cheeks were heated now, probably from the running, or that’s what you told yourself, because you couldn’t help but hear it echoing in your ears. ‘Moonbeam… What the actual fuck, Castellan?’ And here you were, back to first ground, trying to convince yourself you could keep your feelings in check.

__ Her type __

The sun had been up for a while now, and Chris was doing his best to get Luke to come out of bed, but nothing would make him budge : every time the guy woke him up, the brunette would only groan, grip his pillow tighter and turn around, immediately going back to sleep.

“Dude, you’re gonna make us miss breakfast.” Chris pressed, whisper-yelling to try and avoid being too harsh, but he was slowly loosing patience.

“Shut up, ‘wanna finish my dream, go eat by yourself…” the other boy mumbled against his sheets, shuffling to get comfortable again.

But it was enough. Chris went to pick up clothes from Luke’s stuff, before throwing them right in his face. “Get out of bed right now, or I’m dunking a bucket of ice cold water on your body.” he deadpanned, and the counselor shot straight out of bed, putting a shirt on and nearly jumping in his pants.

“Ok I’m ready.”

The whole way to the Dining Pavilion, Luke was like a broken record on the verge of getting strangled by his best friend. Birds were chirping in the early morning, chatter noises were coming from further down the path and the sun already felt warm on his skin, but his mind could only think of one thing.

“Man, I can’t believe you just cut me through the best dream ever…”

“Yeah? And what was it about for you to be all whiny about it ?” Chris queried, starting to gain a forced curiosity from his best friend’s rambling.

“Uh… I...don’t remember?” The brunette said, trying to sound convincing and natural, looking straight in front of him, but the slightly unsure tone in his voice betrayed him.

Which caused a fit of laughter from his friend. “Oh-oh, man, were you seriously having a we-”

“No! No of course not! Why would you think that-”

“Yeah, sure, then about what, huh ? Because you seem very guilty of… Man, tell me you didn’t have… a romantic dream?” Chris’ smile only grew more teasing when the other boy’s face visibly heated up, not uttering a word. He put an arm around the flustered boy’s shoulders dramatically. “Well look at that, little Luke Castellan finally growing out of his heartless era ? I thought I wouldn’t live long enough to see it.”

“Awh shut up, bro…” he muttered, tearing his friend off him. “It’s not even that big of a deal…”

“Not that big of a deal? Nah, Luke, be for real. I’ve rarely seen you as… disinterested before. Like- you just wave people away instead of throwing the biggest narcissistic dickhead smile their way. And I mean it in all friendship-ness.”

“Yeah, of course you do, you little-”

“Hey, I have you seen her today? She’s so…”

Both Hermes sons turned their head in direction of a loud voice just a few feet behind them, seeing two guys from the Aphrodite Cabin walk closely behind them, deep in a conversation too.

“Who again ? Oh right, Silena’s friend. That witch girl with the…weird aura.”

Luke frowned. ‘What the hell are they talking about?’

“Yeah, gods, she just has that bod, bro… I mean, I wouldn’t even mind dating her if it means I can get her to give me some of that magic.” one of the two guys said, ending with a proud laugh, full of himself as the other joined. “Plus, I swear, she always wears those short tops and skirts, man, she’s basically asking for it at that point.”

Luke’s fists tightened as he understood who the subject of the conversation was, brows furrowing at the guy’s words, yet he knew he was in no place to say anything. Because he was one of those guys who didn’t give a crap about morals or feelings, one of those who knew the trouble they caused and played along.

He enjoyed it, the attention, having girls fawn over a practiced look, people naturally coming to him because he just had this kind of presence. But now, trying to distance himself from this persona of his, maybe he realized just how awful he might have sounded.

‘You weakling, questioning yourself because of a girl? Dumbass.’ Luke thought to himself, tousling his hair in frustration as he finally entered the dining area. Barely a few months ago, he never would’ve imagined being this kind of guy, the guy who tries to slow down his everyday life to become whatever a girl could like. But again, he knew in himself it wasn’t just any girl, because just any girl wouldn’t haunt his nights so good he’d rather sleep than do anything else.

You were… this whole deal to him: one of the most precious things he could wish to ever see, and still the one thing he rejected all he could. Because part of him was screaming that this was not the kind of guy he was, screaming that settling down at this point in life just wasn’t for him. But over time, the idea just couldn’t stop seeping into his mind, and again, you were just so…

He had first met you when he came back from his failed quest, not at his best in any possible way, when you had barely started your new life, and he just saw a part of himself in you, mirroring this feeling of being…lost. And maybe, just maybe, back then, he lacked the courage to go talk to you when he should have. But years went by, you barely interacted except for extended group hangouts and gatherings, and he forgot along the way. Yet for some reason, you had found a way back in his mind out of nowhere, like a magic so strong even you, daughter of Hecate, couldn’t conjure. It was like meeting you all over again, that one day he saw you out late at the edge of the forest, laying in the grass and watching the moon glow. He started noticing you around more after that, maybe just paying attention more, his eyes drawn to your figure in the crowds, his ears searching for the sound of you voice as you roared and fought on the training grounds during the day.

And after months of going against himself, of denying how he knew deep down he felt, he stopped fighting the feeling. And apparently, everyone around him had noticed and couldn’t stop bothering him with unpleasant questions about why, oh why, he was loosing what they called his ‘player mojo’. But he dismissed it every time, not needing anyone in his business when even him wasn’t able to take care of it.

Luke was playing with a few other guys, on their way to the training grounds while passing a ball between them all, either tossing it gently to the next or full on throwing it over their head. It was more of the second for Luke as Connor threw the ball in his direction, it landing way out of track, near the forest’s edge.

“Man, come on!”

“Hey, you could’ve tried to jump and catch it.” Travis replied with a laugh, elbowing his twin playfully.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…”

Luke wandered off the path, walking behind a row of bushes and crouching down to retrieve the ball that had rolled into them.

“…know, he’s cute, and he’s tall and stuff, but it’s such a pain to have a crush on a boy, you get me ?”

Wait, was that… you ? Luke raised his head over the bushes, forgetting all about the ball for an instant as all he registered was the voice that made his ears perk up every time he heard it. ‘What- what’s she talking about ?�� He searched for the origins of the voices for a second, before his eyes fell on a small picnic table and four girls gathered around it, some playing cards and two others just talking.

“You do know.”

“Ok yeah, I do know. It’s just- He’s so infuriating!”

Luke shifted absentmindedly as he got curious about the conversation for some reason, words echoing in his mind. ‘She likes someone ?’ But as he moved his hand, his fingers slipped over the smooth surface of the ball he hadn’t realized was there, stumbling forward into the leaves of the bush. At least the branches hadn’t scratched his skin.

He heard the girl pause for a second, probably noticing the sudden ruffle in the bushes, and he made sure to duck down as much as possible, before realizing how stupid this could’ve looked : why the Hells would he ever try this much not to be discovered over just a simple conversation between friends of his. But deep down, his mind had his answer: he needed to know more.

“-ot even like he seems to have a type, like- bro just picks up another girl at a party, they chat or a few days and sometimes she just disappears from around him like their link never existed. What a fucking jerk…”

Who was that guy? Because Luke was really starting to think that you hated your crush more than you liked him, seeing how harsh your words sounded spoken with this tone of hers. But really, what kind of jerk would that be, going around and making head spins like and leaving like it was nothing? Talk about playboy move… Who was it, really? No name had been spoken, barely a physical description… The brunette was already trying to go through all people he knew at camp that might fit the description, but-

“Luke, what the fuck are you doing ? We’ve been waiting for you forever..”

Luke snapped back to reality as Travis came up to him, his look questioning.

“Oh yeah, shoot, sorry. I couldn’t find the ball and then I just, tripped on my own leg. And here I am.” he replied, but his friend only looked at him more confused.

“Ok, whatever. Let’s just go back okay ? Because today is the day I beat your ass!”

“You wish you ever could ~”

They walked back to the rest of the small group, resuming the tossing with not much further question, before Luke spoke up.

“How much do you guys know about Y/n?”

There was a short silence, Chris keeping the ball tight between his hands as they all came to a stop, and Charles spoke first the words everyone thought.

“No fucking way. Y/n ? As in our cabin’s Y/n ? As in daughter of Hecate Y/n ?”

“Uh… Yeah? Are there other Y/n…?” Luke simply answered, not quite understanding the shock that covered his friends’ faces.

“There was another one a year ago. One you dated, by the way, you jock.” Chris threw back with a smirk. “But damn, little Y/n huh ?”

Luke mentally face palmed at the first statement. “I don’t know if I’d say little considering she’s older than you but uh- why are you so…”he started, gesturing to the surprised faces in front of him, “-expressive, all of you ? I mean, I just asked how well you knew her, I think..?”

Connor slapped his brother’s shoulder with a grin on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes. “Told ya it wasn’t an Aphrodite girl, bro!”

“Yeah, yeah, so much fuss over so little…” the other twin groaned.

As the other guys exchanged knowing looks and laughs, Luke was just standing there, confused about the whole situation. “What is happening, exactly ? I’m starting to feel a little excluded here.”

It was Charles that spoke up again. “We just can’t believe you finally admitted who you’ve been liking so much that you got off the market, bro.” The boy came closer, putting his arm over Luke’s shoulders and squeezing his arm playfully. “So, her, huh ? I mean, yeah i get it, she’s kinda-”

“Don’t finish that sentence or you’ll have to build yourself a new tongue.”

The others erupted in laughter at Luke’s threat, patting him on the back as the brunette held his face down in embarrassment, because it probably was the first time his friends could tease him on the subject, and they were catching up on all the missed opportunities.

“Would you look at that? Luke so into a girl he looses his mojo, who would’ve thought ~”

“You know what, guys ? He even stays in bed an skips breakfast just so he can dream about her for lo-” Chris started, his friend quickly shutting him up with a hand over his mouth, a reaction that only caused more laughter.

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

They were almost to the training grounds, the teasing had died down just a little bit, when Luke asked his first question again, this time the others only throwing amused looks before answering.

“Hmmm I don’t really talk to her much, y’know? I just see her around from time to time. Isn’t she lesbian though ?”

“Wha- No!” the brunette replied instantly, somewhat offended. “I’m not that stupid, thank you. At least from what I heard, she’s into a boy, so-”

“Oh so she’s into someone already ? Who ?” Chris chimed in from behind his back.

“I don’t know, I didn’t heard any name, just some tall dude that sounds like a total jerk…” Luke mumbled.

“Sounds like you to me.”

“Get back here you little-” He said, turning around to try and catch a running Chris shielding himself behind Connor. “I don’t even know why I’m asking you all, it’s not like you have anything interesting to say anyway.. Let’s just get to practice, I’m getting frustrated with all of this.” Luke continued in mock bitterness, sending them an amused smile.

Travis bolted in direction of the training grounds just ahead of them. “Race ya!”

“Morning, bro.” Chris greeted with a quick fist bump. “You doing something this morning?”

“Hmmm I got a practice this morning, and a short teaching session for some newcomers. Why ?” his friend answered, putting on his orange t-shirt.

“Ah sheep, I was gonna tell you some of us were planning on spending the morning at the lake, they say the water is particularly warm this morning. And I thought you could’ve asked you-know-who to come too, to…y’know...”

“Ha ha, you’re so fun Chris, but I’m not gonna ditch helpless kids, sorry. Also, since when do actually you censor yourself ?” Luke asked, weirded out by this change in character as he put his shoes back on.

“Well, I too am on a path to redemption, at my own level.”

The brunette let out a scoff. “Yeah, sure. See ya.”

Luke spent the next few hours on the training grounds, slashing at practice dummies in wood and straw with his dominant arm, trying to reproduce the same moves with the other and building his technique like he did almost everyday. He found a sparring partner in a younger boy, Lyle, son of Ares and at camp since barely a year but who’s blood made him a worthy opponent. Maybe not worthy enough to take Luke’s title as camp’s best swordsman nonetheless.

The Ares boy relied on brute force against the other fighter, who knew exactly how to use it against him, nimbly sliding in his back an hitting the back of his knees when Lyle lunged forward, too late to reach Luke. Falling on his knees, the brunette was quick to go back in front of him, pointing the tip of his sword right under his chin, declaring his undisputed victory while he could hear a loud clamor of shouts and applause roaring in his back. Luke extended his hand for his partner to take, offering to help him up.

“Oh shoot, who’s this ?” Lyle said in a hushed tone, speaking to Luke while he looked behind his shoulder. The curly haired boy followed his gaze, confused, before his eyes fell on your figure. You were under a tree, looking away from him and towards the small crowd on his side, the light filtering through the leaves and hitting your face like a perfect halo, enhancing your features in a way that looked surreal. “She’s ho-”

Luke instantly let go of his hand, letting the Ares boy fall back to the ground and looking down at him while he groaned in discomfort. “Yeah no, forget about her, pretty boy. She’s way out of your league.”

The blond scoffed at the advice. “And what, she’s in yours ?”

“Yeah, nice joke, Lyle, like I could ever try to compare..”

Turning his back on Lyle, Luke went towards the small wooden bench, going to dab himself with a small towel and drinking down almost all the content in his water bottle. Resting for just a second, head hanging low and elbows on his thighs, he raised his gaze just enough so he could see you, still under that tree that shielded your skin from the angry rays of the summer sun, writing away on a small black notepad. What could you be doing, ther-

“Hey ~”

Luke snapped his head up, seeing Drew standing just a few feet from him, fluttering her long lashes his way. He thought he could decipher her intentions, but if it would’ve worked just a few weeks ago, now he didn’t have any interest in whatever she could try to talk him into. So he lifted himself off the bench, barely sparring her a glance.

“Hey.” he dryly said, paired with a small wave, before starting to walk towards the tree, and more precisely the girl seated right under it. This time when he spoke up, his tone was warm, light-hearted when he said,

“Y/n, hey ~”

Luke almost jogged the last few meters, wanting to close the distance between you two quickly, before stopping a few feet away. After somewhat coming to terms with what he felt, it was almost a little weird to be close to you like that : the small fluttering in his stomach, his heart rate quickening, the warmth that was spreading through his body and plastered a smile on his face ; they were all signs so foreign to him.

“What are you doing here ? I figured you’d be at the lake with the others.”

“And I figured you’d be with the others.” you replied quickly, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see you close the notepad discreetly, your fingers seeming somewhat trembling over the cover as you nervously played with a pink pen with the other hand.

“Yet here you are, staring at me from afar. Who would’ve thought.” Luke’s eyes slightly narrowed as he joked back, subtly testing the waters to see how willing you might be to keep the conversation going, given how rarely you talked in settings like this, just the two of you.

“Yet here you are, speaking to me like this isn’t the most words we’ve ever exchanged when no friends surround us. Who would’ve thought ~” you said, and your smile, as sarcastic as it must’ve been, had Luke’s legs feel like jello all of a sudden.

His grin only widened, corners flipped up and almost displaying his pearly teeth before exclaiming, “Ladies and gentleman, she fights back!”, a laugh accompanying his statement as he threw his arms in the air theatrically. A little chuckle escaped your lips, one he could only choose to take as an invitation to more conversation, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No but seriously, what are you doing here ? Wanna spare a little ?” he continued with a more cheeky expression.

You cocked an eyebrow up, as if you were the utmost offended by the proposition, both pointer fingers coming to point at the boy in front of you. “With you ? To lose with not a single hope to ever win ? No thanks, I’m g-”

Luke took advantage of your little loss of focus to crouch down to your level and snatch the notepad from your lap, your face instantly displaying shock and.. a little look of mortification. “What’s this ? Waw, your commitment to living in pink is insane, hard to believe you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite sometimes.” he added with a little laugh as he skipped through the pages, seeing the pink scribbles and doodles adorning the pages in multiple shades. “One of the things that make me believe you are..” he mumbled, his eyes widening a little when he realized he’d said it out-loud, but you probably hadn’t heard or understood it as you didn’t bring it up.

He stood up and took a step back just before you lunged his way to reach for your belonging. “Give me the notepad, Castellan!”

But he was having too much fun, teasing you a way he wouldn’t usually try to, flipping through the pages while walking away and seeing you glowering at him in a mix of exasperation and indignation. But it was his time to be surprised when the notepad flew from his hands back to yours. ‘Right, Hecate’s kid, always so full of surprises…’

“You never act as an adult, do you ?” you asked rhetorically and Luke turned around, walking back to you with a pouty smile dancing on his mouth, seeing you slip a small piece of paper in the back-pocket of your bottoms.

“Nahhh, I still have one year of being a teenager, and I sure as Hells will make the best of it.” Luke only replied with a proud expression, faking a small bow and he couldn’t hold in a chuckle as he saw you roll your eyes. But as you started walking away, he caught up to you discreetly, nimbly getting the paper sticking out of your back-pocket before he rushed past you, starting to read the page while holding it up in the air for you to see.

But his mischievous smile faltered slightly when he read the content of the paper : “Castellan, who tf do you like (you have really generic tastes)”.

First pang to the heart, he did not have generic taste, unless you considered a witty, sweet, hard-headed, mesmerizing and all-roundly skilled demi-goddess to be generic. Second pang to the heart, all the names listed down, some crossed out, some circled to stand out… was this how you saw him ? They were all girls about his age, the removed names the ones of some he had a fling of some sort with, the names standing out being those of girls like Piper or Drew, the ones that caught most eyes at camp. But not his, not anymore, and he couldn’t see the one right name anywhere on the paper.

So he crumpled the small sheet, tossing it behind him and almost bursting out in laughter as he heard a small ‘ouch’ behind him, probably hitting you right in the face. “You forgot the right name on that list, dumbass.” Luke started, doing a peace gesture above his shoulder. “G’luck, moonbeam ~” he only said, the nickname rolling off his tongue like he’d used it all his life.

And as he heard you yell behind him, the boy quickly turned towards the cabins, hiding on the side of the Athena one. He finally let out the nervous laugh he was holding, relaxing against the cabin and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the unlikeliness of the situation. He, Luke Castellan, liked a girl he didn’t even talk to on a daily basis, with whom he was barely friends if not for their mutual ones, and that probably considered him the most obnoxious jock she knew. And just a few weeks ago, you would’ve been right to see him as such, but now that he was trying to redeem himself, a little for himself and a little for you too, he was catching you almost investigating his nonexistent love life, while putting aside any possibility of you being in the equation. How was he supposed to interpret all that ? The Gods’ design was indeed one you couldn’t predict.

“What are you laughing at like a manic ?”

The boy almost jumped in surprise, Annabeth appearing just like magic next to him, before letting out a loud exhale. “Wow, hello to you too…” he replied, dismissive.

But she appeared totally unfazed, crossing her arms over her chest in a knowing stance, like she could read all over his face what was going on in his mind when even him had a hard time deciphering his thoughts. “What’s so funny I can hear you laughing from inside the cabin? I swear it better be worth stopping me from my reading.”

“I- nothing’s funny, I’m just.. trying out laugh therapy, you know ? Stress reliever and all…” His words and his wonky smile only earned him a raised eyebrow from the younger. “Okay, what? What do you want me to say ?”

“The truth, that’d actually be pretty great.”

“The truth ? Well the truth is… I don’t even know. I told you about… you-know-who, right ?”

“Extensively, yeah.”

Luke marked a pause before continuing, throwing Annabeth an annoyed glare she chose to ignore, for his sake. “Well, I don’t know how and why, but apparently she heard that I… was interested in someone..”

“Understatement of the century.”

He did a short pause again, marking his growing frustration known. “Anyways, the problem is that now she’s literally playing Sherlock Holmes on me, Annabeth. And she’s gonna find out at some point, you know how smart she is. And then I’ll be the idiot who, out of all his very broad possibilities, likes a girl who doesn’t like him back.” As he spoke, he took his head in his hands, massaging his temples: the mere idea of this situation happening was giving him a headache, and for too much reasons.

“Ok, so, that’s very narcissistic-”

“Or does she like me? Is that why she’s writing a list? Maybe that’s the reason, yeah.. Maybe she’s trying to figure out if she has a shot.. But then why would she talk about this other guy, it doesn’t make sense-” Head low, deep in thought, Luke saw from the corner of his eyes the girl’s foot tapping on the ground, sign of her growing boredom, and he stopped his unintelligible muttering. “Annabeth do you know anything? I mean, you guys are like, really close friends, right? She talks to you about those stuff, you must know something.”

The girl scoffed, throwing her long braids over her shoulder with sass before looking up straight into Luke’s eyes, challenging him with a single gaze. “I know that you better shut up before I put my cap on and literally disappear from this conversation.” she started, getting her blue cap from her jeans’ back-pocket, dangling it around to show him how serious her threat was. “I also know that even if I knew something, I wouldn’t tell you, because seeing you struggling and at a girl’s beck and call is the gift the gods offered me, today.”

The curly head opened his mouth in disbelief, closing it as he tried to find his words. “Traitor.”

She exaggerated his reaction, openly making fun of Luke, hand hovering over her mouth in mock shock. “But but but- Desperate puppy.” she then deadpanned.

“You’re disloyal.”

“You’re stupid. Bye ~” The girl quickly waved at him, the biggest smile etched on her face, before popping her cap on and disappearing into thin air.

__ His type __

For someone who craved a day just a tad bit more eventful than the usual, now that it unfolded in front of your eyes, you just found it weird, because things just felt…off.

Maybe it was the strong heat that waved over camp since the day before, but you were finding yourself almost unable to sleep, tossing and turning, your thoughts eventually wandering to the same question: who does Luke like? And you didn’t understand why you were suddenly so obsessed with it: were you that bored of your everyday life? or… No, you were over that silly crush, you had come to terms with how it’d inevitably end, so you were obviously just bored and intrigued. But as you thought about it a couple nights in a row, you swore there was a little voice screaming at your inner monologue, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Maybe it was the heat getting to your head, but Annabeth seemed… on edge? Or maybe more mischievous than usual? She whispered with Percy when you passed by, which you clearly noticed after it happened ‘randomly’ more than half a dozen times, but you couldn’t make out any word, and it only made you more curious: why was she throwing you those side glances? What was happening?

Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks, but you could’ve sworn Luke was avoiding you. But the weirdest was that he was also completely not. Because, would it be out on the training grounds or inside the forever packed Hermes Cabin, you sometimes caught him speaking with your siblings, and by the time you got close enough to try and eavesdrop, he’d catch sight of you and flee in a hurry, and you could barely hear a faint ‘Don’t tell’ before he was gone. Sometimes, you’d go to your half-brother, who’d just answer with a small shrug and an ‘I don’t know, he just had a random question’ before throwing you a confused look and dismissing the subject. And at the same time, Luke talked to you way more than usual, it felt completely out of the ordinary: if he was not in an avoidance mood, he’d at least say hi when he was passing by, sometimes even going out of his path to just greet you, asking how you were and biding you a good day before going back to his business.

The problem was now the raging conflict inside of you, parts of yourself knowing it was just friendly, because what else could it be, and parts of yourself gaining too much hope from it, like the situation had changed and your feelings could freely full-power-resurface. But as much as you could usually be in control of your emotions, now the chaos tended to peak out, and you’d have to try not to blush like a 13 years old. Like right now.

You were simply sat at a table outside in a pretty empty area near some strawberry fields, tapping the blunt side of your pink pen against your lower lip, slightly nipping at the cap or drumming your fingers on the length of it, eyes trained to the new list in your notepad —the old one to crumpled and written on to use. But as you racked your brain for something else, you just couldn’t find it, anybody else who could make the list, you didn’t remember who you could’ve forgotten-

“Moonbeam, hey!”

You snapped your head up as you heard someone yell the unique nickname from further, coming from the cabins area towards you, and saw a head of messy curls waving their arm high up before lightly jogging your way. And as much as the more rational part of you tried to scream inside your head, you couldn’t contain a light blush : the faint idea of the boy you hopelessly liked ever running to you, a beaming smile adorning his face, was enough to make your face burn, so to see your daydreaming fantasy happening- you felt lightheaded, weak in the knees, like melting in a puddle.

__ Her type __

The last few days had been unusual for Luke, but not in the worst of ways, he just made everything he could to get used to it, because, as different from his usual self as it was, he felt like he was just in sync with himself and what he actually wanted.

But the problem was that he quickly realized that what he wanted, others wanted too.

“Hey, Cam, wait up!”

Luke jogged to the boy, after just finishing a training session he lead. He wasn’t specifically close to him, having just talked here and there since they were in the same cabin, but he knew him to be a son of Hecate, one of your half-brothers.

“Oh, hi Luke, how you doing ?” Cameron answered after turning around towards the voice, quickly fist bumping the other guy when he came closer.

“Good, I’m fine. I just had a quick question-”

“Sure, shoot.”

“I…” Luke was having a little trouble finding the right sentence, not wanting to appear as completely soft as he had gone, trying to make his intentions a little discreet, but struggling to find words. “How well would you say you know Y/n ?” Let’s just say he mentally face palmed at his words.

Cameron stifled a laugh. “Dude we’re like barely over half a dozen siblings, I would say I know her pretty well. Why ?” He marked a small pause, before saying, “You know your ears are like, bright red, right ?”

“I- no. Shut up.”

“Mmmmh, you’re very convincing.”

“Please don’t tell anyone about anything you might think you know from this conversation. Which won’t be true.” It only earned him a loud fit of laughter from the boy in front of him. “Okay whatever- Do you happen to know.. if she might like someone ? Or maybe her type ? Anything about… this field of information ?”

Cameron tried to contain his amusement, seeing the usual confident and smug Luke being so… caught up in his feels. “Nah man, sorry, I don’t know anything. I mean, I did overhear her talking about some dude but it was like, 3 months ago, easy, so not sure.”

“Really? Nothing else you might have he-” Luke cut himself short when catching the annoyed cocked brow facing him. “Yeah, okay, thanks..”

“No problem, but man, between us: I don’t think you’re the only one after her, might wanna hurry.” Cameron replied with a knowing smirk, before waving to someone behind him. “She’s coming this way, just saying.”

“Wha- who- Shit.” The boy slightly panicked, hearing your voice greeting them both, and his legs grew a mind of their own, fleeing the scene before you reached his side and turning a corner to go back to his cabin.

But as he took his post-training shower, Luke couldn’t help but wonder: what should he do? Did he even have a chance? Because, let’s face it, you two had never been more than acquaintances for years, meeting here and there by coincidence because you were following friends, and the idea that you might’ve grown the same feelings in this context was an unreachable fantasy. One he shouldn’t bring himself to hope for, even more now that he realized he might not be the only one wanting to be the one in your thoughts like you wee in his.

And yet…

There was still this spark inside of him, one that made him want to bang his head on the wall of the small shower cubicle from how stupid it made him feel. Because he knew, deep inside, he hoped that he wasn’t the only one who had taken notice so late.

So it’s in the shower, under the cold running water, that he decided that there would be no more mourning what wouldn’t happen, but rather steps in the good direction, your direction: he’d do anything if it could mean a reciprocated spark.

And Luke was a man of his words. To a certain extent. If he quickly left, tail between his legs, each time you approached close enough to hear him talking about you, asking away to anyone you knew who had their chances with you, he stood his own ground when he was the one to instigate the interaction. He greeted you each chance he’d get, going out of his way to have the most trivial conversation about whatever book you were reading he didn’t know a thing about, wishing you a good day out of nowhere or removing a speck of pollen flying in your hair while you talked to him. And his friends teasing him about it was worth any word that would pass your lips for him to hear or the blush that dusted your cheeks when his fingers brushed your skin in the lightest touch.

The brunette parted from his friends, excusing himself for what he had called ‘needed personal time after being too much with you jocks’, and they had inevitably cooed at him, telling him to spend a delightful afternoon in a certain girl’s company. And if his eyes rolled to Mount Olympus back, he couldn’t think of a clever comeback as they were totally right.

He quickly spotted you, sitting not far from the strawberry fields, the smell wafting to his nose — and yet he couldn’t help but compare it to the smell of your hair that filled him every time he passed you by —, and being who he was, he couldn’t help but yell your name from across the clearing, waving his arm in the air as he ran your way.

“Moonbeam, hey!”

Luke couldn’t help the smile that crept up his face as he came closer, seeing a fresh piece of paper covered in pink ink in front of you just before you turned the notepad facing down.

“Well, you’re that much interested, huh ?”

“I- No, I’m just bored, and-”

“And I’m so interesting you couldn’t help but do a deep dive on me ?” Luke cut you off, raising an eyebrow in the most smug demeanor you could witness, a smirk tugging at his lips;

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “And I had so little idea of what to do that I had to take the last thing left in my mind.”

“So I'm on your mind ?”

He knew it was silly, he knew it wasn’t based on anything real, but the flicker of hope was glimmering in his chest. Flirting was second nature to him and, as arrogant as it may sound, he usually didn’t have much response on the other side other than fluttering eyelashes and shy smiles, so he enjoyed this little game. Like a cat and mouse game where you were both battling to be the cat.

“Do you know you’re actually insufferable? Just making sure you’re aware.”

“I think the word you were looking for is charming but it’s alright, we’re all dyslexic around here.”

“That’s not even- whatever.” And right after you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but Luke saw a sparkle light up in them the same instant. “By the way, call me Sherlock, I found it.”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he couldn’t help but throw in a joke to keep the light mood going. “Are you high on strawberry leaves ? What do you mean ?”

“I- unbelievable.” you huffed out, cheeks dusting in pink from confusion-fueled embarrassment. “I mean I know who ‘the fuck’ you like.” you stated, mimicking quotes with your fingers to reference the title of your list. And boy did his face fall.

You didn’t miss the flicker of annoyance that crossed his face, startling you a little: that little twitch on his face with the slight tilt of his head, an expression you’d always found pretty amusing and almost endearing, now seeing it directed your way… it was intimidating. What could’ve caused him to react like that ?

Little did you know, on his end, it wasn’t annoyance, only masked apprehension, fearful apprehension.

Your guts started to twist before Luke’s face relaxed again, and you took in a deep breath.

“Okay, shoot then, I guess…” the boy replied, awkwardly scratching his nape, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes seemed to search yours.

You let a moment of silence pass between the two of you, before scrunching your nose with a smile. “Nah, I lied. But I’m close though, I’m sure!”

There was an awkward instant where he didn’t answer anything, and you thought your enthusiasm might’ve weirded him out, but his face broke in laughter the next, nearly bending in half as you stood there, unable to tell if you should laugh with him or be utterly mortified.

“Wow, Moonbeam… You’re another breed alright!” he exclaimed, simply unable to stop laughing at your reaction, and you swore you could see a glint of something more behind his fluttering lashes. “You really wanna know, don’t you…”

“Well I- I told you, I’m bored and easily entertained…” you replied, red growing on your cheeks as you crossed your arms over your chest in defense.

“That’s really contradictory, moonbeam.”

“I- shut up, I’m tired.” Again with that stupid nickname, so stupid it sent butterflies flying in your stomach —stupid blood capillaries.

Luke only rolled his eyes in response, getting closer to you and going around the table to take a seat in front of you, swiftly snatching the notepad from your loosened grasp.

“Hey-”

“Wow, you’re really off. Guess you’re not as close as you think.” Luke couldn’t help but tease, and you threw him a glare, a mix of frustration, indignation and… maybe even a tinge of desperation. Curiosity might’ve gotten the best of you by now.

“Yeah well, who would’ve thought camp’s perfect jock would actually be hard to understand…” You rolled your eyes, tearing your gaze from his figure as you gave up on trying to conceal the piece of paper.

“Wow, getting the claws out now, are we ?” The boy only spurred you on, loving the feeling of warmth pooling in him each time you looked at him with those fiery eyes he couldn’t believe he’d noticed so late.

“You’re a frustrating person, that’s all… But how am I wrong though ? I’m fully convinced I’ve thought of nearly everyone…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared down at you fidgeting fingers on the table, trying to grasp at anything you could’ve missed.

You couldn’t see it, but the way Luke’s gaze softened was noticeable for anyone that might’ve been around, his eyes almost screaming whatever was going through his head, and Annabeth would’ve smacked the back of his head if she’d seen him, from how much he annoyed her yet said nothing when he was so obvious.

“I mean, it’s impossible I haven’t put your crush’s name on the list at one point, she’s- Or are you bi?”

If he had been drinking, Luke would’ve spat his drink immediately, coughing up a laugh at your question, unable to hide the disbelief that displayed on his face. “W-what ?”

“Yeah nah okay… Or worse, are you into… a minor?”

His laugh only doubled at your statement, properly unable to hold it in as he saw the faux horrified look grow on your face. “Dear gods no! You might not believe me when I say it, but I do still have some morals.” It took him some time to calm down, a tear threatening to fall from his eye from the amusement you brought along with your bluntness. He stopped you before you could say anything more scandalous. “You know what, just hand me your pen.”

You gave him the pen promptly, your hand reacting before you registered the question and you looked at Luke, confused as to what he’d- no way.

On the other side of the table. Luke’s head was ringing, convinced he maybe should’ve thought twice before offering to solve her investigation, his hand shaking as he took the pen between his fingers, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to think of how he could get out of the situation. But maybe it was just time, he just had to come clean, to stop the faint tugging in his chest when he saw you laugh with someone else; to stop the longing he felt when he looked at the moon out the window on sleepless nights, wondering if you were looking too when you weren’t sleeping in your bunk; to stop wondering if you’d ever catch the yearning in his eyes every time he talked to you, never wanting those moments to end.

And maybe to shut up his friends too, just maybe.

He had barely started scribbling before you laughed through the heavy tension as he let out a small ‘Fuck, forgot you actually write in pink’. But your laugh died sharply when he handed you the thin sheet of paper, your hands clutching it like it was your only thread of sanity left, eyes not leaving what he’d wrote. And he’d wrote your name.

“You’re kidding, right ?” you asked in a low whisper, eyes not straying from his messy handwriting decorating the bottom of the piece of paper, your brain almost shutting down on the spot as you read each letter, over and over again.

Luke took a deep breath in, trying to calm the pounding of the blood at his temples, his leg nervously stimming under the table. Why was it suddenly so hard to say words that used to naturally roll of his tongue like a practiced poem ? Why was it making him feel like you held his heart in your hand and could crush it with a few words ?

He let the breath out.

“Do you want to go out with me, moonbeam ?”

His heart rate picked up again —if it was even possible for a heart to beat so quickly— as he saw your expression only grow, eyes widening significantly, your lips parted without a single words going past them, looking so still he even doubt you were breathing. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t panicking him. Him, the one with not a single record of rejection, now fearing for his heart.

“I mean, I don’t want to force anything on you, of course, but… I need you to know, I now I’ve seemed like the most pretentious player, I’ve recently grown a little too aware of it. But I swear, I’m not like that anymore, or at least it’s not what I feel like I am anymore: I’m not here to toy with you, I’m not saying all this just to add a name to this, by the way, ridiculously long list of crossed out names.” Luke said it all in one breath, begrudgingly pointing at the list you clutched so hard it started to wrinkle at the edges, now feeling uneasy as he looked at it.

But what he found the weirdest in this instant was how he wasn’t feeling uneasy when sharing all of this, accepting his previous behavior and how it could’ve ever mislead you, trying to convince not with calculated sweet words but with honest thoughts, for once.

You finally look back at him, staring right in his brown eyes, brows furrowed like you were trying to gauge the trust you could put in his words, and the boy stopped you before you could speak up.

“No, please just- let me finish, I’ll be quick. I promise you, that guy you like? I can be better than him, better for you and better to you than he’d ever be, judging by how you des-”

“What guy ?” you asked, your brows only furrowing further in confusion.

Luke stopped in his tracks, seemingly taken aback by your question, while you looked at him expectantly, head tilted to the side. “Well, the guy you talked about with um…” he started hesitantly, not fond of admitting he had indeed been eavesdropping on you, “…Silena, Clarisse and Annabeth. The..tall jerk?”

“YOU SPIED ON M-” You cut yourself off, closing your eyes and breathing deeply, before shaking your head dismissively, as Luke looked down at his lap, a little guilty. “You know what, we’ll talk about that later. Luke ?” His head shot up to meet your gaze as he heard his name roll off your tongue, humming in response. “You’re the guy.”

Luke’s pupils blew wide at your deadpan, brows raised up and head brought forward like he couldn’t believe his ears. He stayed like that for a lingering second, processing every recollection he had of his eavesdropping to make sense of it all. He mouthed a ‘what’, before apparently snapping out of it. “I’m the tall jerk ?”

“You’re the tall jerk.” You tried to keep your voice steady, the realization of your own confession slowly seeping in your mind.

Chris was right, that little-

“So you like me ? There’s no other guy ?” he pressed, leaning over the table, all apprehension disappearing from his eyes to make room for the blooming sparks of hope, smile stretching over his lips he didn’t even bother to conceal.

Your could now clearly feel your cheeks burning up, the red hue probably visible over your complexion, eyes darting everywhere but the curly haired boy in front of you as you felt at loss for words. “There’s no- I mean, it’s.. I-”

You couldn’t help your eyes from trailing to his lips as you caught a movement, the tip of his tongue barely darting out and leaving his lips parted in a smile, looking so…

You had to break away as Luke swiftly moved off the table, unable to stop himself from smiling profusely after he’d caught your evident gaze, walking around to sit on the edge, right next to you.

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you, before finally speaking up.

“Ok, scratch what I said earlier, that guy you talked about seems absolutely amazing. Real boyfriend material. I could never even dream of being like him. You clearly should date him, I get it.” Your eyes rolled as you slowly understood his little speech, blush still dusting your cheeks as your smile started to match his, lightly biting your lip to hold it. “But oh, wait, what did you say? Is it me?” he asked, feigning innocence and pointing at himself. “I’m the guy? Wow, incredible, so convenient.”

But you could only smile further at his antics, feeling any fear, anticipation, hidden pent up frustration, slowly leaving your body as the boy’s own joy radiated off his, contagious energy that seeped into you.

“So, would you consider going out with a tall jerk ?”

You couldn’t hold a little chuckle. “You’re a dork.”

“Yeah well, would you consider going out with a dorky tall jerk, then ?”

“I don’t just consider, Luke,” you started, a glint of playfulness in your eyes as they bore in his, “I want to.”

You stood up at the same time as one of your hands shot up to grab the collar of his orange shirt, bringing him low enough to press your lips to his in a kiss, surprising, confusing, but oh so cathartic. And for the short moment it lasted, Luke’s hands opening and closing just short of touching you as he didn’t even know what to do anymore, to the both of you it felt like perfection.

But the passion simmered down as you pulled away. “You swear you’re not gonna play me?” you mumbled, both hands gripping the front of his shirt as the bliss started to wear off and you realized how stupid you had to be to fully believe him, given the history.

“I-” Luke let out a deep sigh, hand finally moving to push a stray strand of hair out of your face, and you shivered at the contact of his warm fingers. “I’m gonna do everything I can think off to prove t to you. I’m on a maturing path, if that’s actually an expression.” And his smile grew back as he heard you stifle a laugh, finally looking up at him.

“Can I ask you something then ?”

“Anything.” And boy did he mean it. He probably was even ready to loose a sparring match against you if it would make you beam like you did just moments before.

“Why were you talking to all my siblings ? Everytime I saw you, you just… ran away.”

The boy let out an awkward laugh, scratching his nape as he looked away from your eyes. “Well I… I was asking around if they knew who you might be interested in… Didn’t exactly want you to find out.”

You looked at him in disbelief, happily surprised that he’d actually been through almost the same thing as you. “Wow, dedication, I could never. I only asked Annabeth-”

“Annabeth knew ? And she didn’t tell me ? I feel sooo betrayed!” Luke exclaimed with a laugh, head falling back with his eyes closed as he went through everything that could’ve been simpler had she told him from the start.

“Wait, she knew about you ?” Your face displayed a matching shock now. “And you feel betrayed ? Wow, she looked at me right in the eyes and told me she barely knew your type, hence the list.”

“She really is the evil genius she thinks she is, huh ?” he asked rhetorically, his arms finding your hips and pulling you closer to him.

“Myeah, gonna have a talk with you now, little girl…” you replied, resting your head comfortably against his shoulder, the feeling almost too natural to feel new, and you could only smile absentmindedly as your own arms hugged him back.

Did i feel fully comfortable writing boys down-talking a girl for that two sentence apparition? No. But for the sake of the storyyyy :D

Future partner if you have to nickname me, let it be moonbeam. Please. And if you could cosplay nightwing on a weekly basis it’s an added bonus but hey, I won’t ask too much <3

Hope you enjoyed this heheh

Love, Nana -

#luke castellan imagine #imagine #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x you #oneshot #charlie bushnell #fanfiction #lukecastellan #nana's mind ━☆#pjo luke castellan #pjo angst #luke castellan angst

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