HEY GIRL I Saw Your Comment But That Hoe Blocked Me So I Cant Reply🙄🙄 ANYWAYS You’re So Real

sparkling green eyes, dazzling green lines

word count: 8.8k

summary: "Habibti." The words slip past his tongue naturally as he reads the text on your wrist, and you stare up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, fascination all over your face— you're in love with him.

حبيبتي.

You trace it on your skin each morning, gentle smile on your face, dumb like a lovesick idiot. It reminds you that you're loved, even if you have never met your soulmate, ever, in your life. Even when you didn't know, you had panicked and asked your friends if they knew what it was, in which the next seven hours after your seventh birthday was spent crowded around a computer on your iPad, trying to imitate the foreign language on your skin.

After seven hours, your mother, bless her, had noted it was in Arabic. Your father returned home shortly after, helping you translate the word.

Habibti. It meant beloved in Arabic.

Your young heart swelled as your friends gushed over it.

Beloved. Your soulmate calls you beloved at first meeting.

You had clung onto it, heart full and spinning. You told yourself that your soulmate must be a romantic just from the fact that he would call you his love first meeting. You had dreams of a fairy tale meeting, falling in front of him in the hallway during school, accidentally bumping into him while out, a stranger offering you an umbrella in the rain, the list goes on. Your friends had gotten tired of you after the second week, all of them off to find their own soulmates. You didn't know anything about him.

But the passion for finding your soulmate wears off just as fast as it had arrived, quickly realizing that you wouldn't be able to find him if you were in a town where you knew everyone. No one would call you that upon first meeting. Even if it was halfway across the world, you stopped dreaming about meeting your soulmate after you started college. If you wanted to meet him, you'd have to travel. You don't know where, but wherever you were allowed, you went. Even if it emptied your pockets and left you desperate in the streets, you had some of the best experiences of your life, all in the name of looking for your soulmate.

Even at graduation, when you're throwing your cap into the sky with your friends, wrist out for the world to see, the characters traced and colored in gold thanks to your friends, the green of the letters shimmering, you're thankful for everything you've poured your soul into. Your soulmate was someone you no longer craved, the world at your fingertips, a job in your pocket, your life set out before you. Fate was strong in your hands, another string in your life. You followed it with fervor, spinning and chasing after it with some childish will in your life.

You push everything related to your soulmate mark back when you step foot into Wayne Enterprises, nodding slowly at the three men as they welcome you to the team. You had expected the older boys, but you didn't complain. Not when Bruce Wayne himself was part of the three men.

"These are my two sons. Tim Drake, he's my third," You shake Tim's hand. "And Damian Wayne. My youngest."

You smile at him too, taking his hand.

"Habibti." The words slip past his tongue naturally as he reads the text on your wrist, and you stare up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, fascination all over your face. Damian raises a brow at the way you react, breath catching in his throat at how enthralled you are with him, features pulled back, eyes sparkling.

"Woah." You manage, a smile breaking onto your face as the words slip past. Damian does not know you. Hell, he's just met you, yet you were staring at him as if he was your world. You had that lovesick look that he had seen on Dick's face way too many times, and he was getting a little uncomfortable. It must be some sick joke. There's no way his soulmate could look at him like that the first time they meet. Yet, as you stare into his eyes, sun sparkling in your eyes, he finds himself breathless. Shit.

Bruce clears his throat behind the two of you.

"Sorry!" You let go of Damian's hand, the loss of contact knocking the air back into his lungs. "Not many people can read my soulmate mark here in the States. I was just surprised."

"So? Is he your soulmate?" Bruce's lip quirks upward.

Damian lies through his teeth. "No. My words are different."

Tim raises a brow behind Bruce, and Damian gives him a warning look.

"Well, regardless," Bruce hums. "You'll be working closely with my two sons for the next couple of weeks. We're very interested in the medical research you conducted while an undergrad in your major, so we'd like to sponsor your research. Your updates would go to my two sons, and I'll meet with you at the end of the month to see if you need more time."

You nod. "An honor, sir."

"The honor is all ours." Tim smiles, shaking your hand.

"Damian will lead you to the lab."

You follow behind his youngest, eyes still wide, trailing behind him like a lovesick puppy. Even if he wasn't your soulmate, he had called you beloved first meeting. You were enthralled. The two of you step into the elevator, and you wait for the door to close before speaking up.

"Are we really not soulmates?" You blink at him.

He shows you his wrist, your words in brown. "We are."

"Oh." You smile at him again. Damian grimaces at how bright you are. The universe sent him a sun because he was grouchy, didn't it?

"This is the lab you'll be using. It is all yours." He hums. "Requests can be sent through the computer, just type it on the notepad."

You nod, glancing around the room, fidgeting.

"What is it?" He raises a brow.

"You're not big on soulmates, are you?" You smile apologetically.

"Not really."

"Alright. Thank you."

Damian is half expecting you to pester him to the moon and back just based on how you looked at him the first time you met. Instead, you spend most of your time holed up in the lab, desperate to replicate results from your previous study. He can't deny that his heart sours a little at how easily you respect his boundaries, but he asked for it himself, so he finds no reason to complain. Huh, he would have to register the soulmate mark with you.

He knocks on the door to your lab, silence answering him. After a couple of minutes, you open the door.

"Sorry, did I make you wait? I had to put everything back." You blink at him.

"We need to register our soulmate bond."

"Ah. Right." You furrow your brows. "When are you available?"

"Tomorrow after work."

"So like... three?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Should I meet you up at the office?"

"I will come down to find you." He glances at the way none of your hair is visible from the cap.

"Alright." You hum. "See you then."

Damian is grasping at anything he can to try and talk to you. He can't believe he's like this, lovesick like some teenager, desperate to talk to you as if you were the only person that mattered in his life. He feels like Dick. It's awful. He loosens his tie as he stands on the elevator, irritation all over his face.

"You look like shit." Tim clicks his tongue.

"Be quiet, Drake." Damian grumbles.

"Registering your soulmate bond?"

"Yeah." He mumbles. "How did your registration go?"

"Smoothly. I told you."

"If only we had met under better circumstances."

"My soulmate didn't stare at me like I was God." Tim shrugs. "Good afternoon, Mr. Strawn."

The man nods.

The two men shut up as Damian steps off at your floor.

"Hey!" You've taken off all the clothes you wear in the lab, dressed for a date. Damian wonders if he's dressed too formal for this. "I brought all my documents. Do you have yours?"

"The city hall has all of my files on hand."

"Forgot, billionaire and all that." You laugh. "Let's get going."

The two of you hitch the next ride down, Damian taking you to his car, opening your door for you, head racing.

"There is always the possibility of us being platonic soulmates." Damian finds himself speaking up as he fastens his seatbelt.

"Yeah." You purse your lips to think. "Would you be alright with that?"

"We are soulmates. The universe obviously has something planned."

"Then what if we're romantic soulmates?"

"Then I suppose we would have to try." Damian pulls out of the parking garage, handing the guard his ticket, driving off. "Are you against it?"

"Oh, definitely not." You smile. "There is no downside for me."

"Not even the public's eye?"

"I've been scrutinized by my family my whole life." You smile. "I blew all my excess scholarship money on travelling because I wanted to meet my soulmate."

"Where did you go?"

"I went to Palestine, Israel, dropped by at Dubai, Egypt, and then my friends and I drove from Istanbul all the way to Western Europe." You count on your fingers. "I had a lot of people greet us first and then notice the writing on my wrist. The emerald green really stands out. I hadn't expected..." Your voice trails off, eyes staring into his, Damian unable to stare back because of the road. "I hadn't expected your eyes to match so nicely. They're breathtaking."

"Do you speak to everyone like this?"

"No." You hum, looking back outside your window. "But I have been told I have a way with words."

"Yeah?" He stops at the red light, turning to stare at your eyes. "I wonder what your eyes look like under the sun."

"Weren't you staring at them a couple days ago?" You pull out your phone.

"That wasn't directly under the sun." He mumbles, starting the car again.

"Do you speak to everyone like this?"

"No." He breathes. "Just to you."

You try to fight the warmth spreading up your neck to your cheeks, failing miserably as you resort to hiding your face in your hand for the rest of the ride.

"Is there any specific thing we need to do?"

"My brothers mentioned that we need our words scanned, but that was it." He hums. "You have your passport and license, correct?"

"Yeah." You hum. "Is that all I need?"

"Yes." He grabs a ticket and drives down to park, the two of you getting out of his car. "Come on." He leads the way, eyes pining down the paparazzi immediately. You glance in the direction he glared, only for him to move to block you from their view. The two of you make it into the building quicker, the elevator door closing behind the two of you.

"That was?"

"Paparazzi." He fishes out his phone, making a call." Yes. May we head up immediately? We will be there."

You blink as he presses the top floor, and for a second, you understand what it's like to live as a billionaire. A single phone call puts you at priority. You shift uncomfortably when the two of you arrive at the top floor, following Damian as he steps into the mayor's room, letting you sit down first.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne." He smiles, and you detect the lack of sincerity on his face immediately. Rather, the fake smile causes you to sit straighter, a smile lacking equal truth making its way onto your face. Damian shakes the mayor's hand, sitting down as well. "What brings you here?"

"Brought my soulmate to get our mark registered." He hums. "You have all my documents, so this should be quick, correct?"

"Of course. We just need both of your words scanned, and then the soulmate's legal documents — You're quite pretty."

You smile at him, laughing lightly. "Thank you. Here's the passport."

"Not a Gotham born, eh?"

"Nope. Moved here for work."

"Do you plan on staying?"

"Well, since my soulmate is here, I don't think moving is that big of a priority right now." You hum.

"May we have your wrist?"

You hold your wrist out, scanner registering the words, and Damian does the same, your words both popping up on the screen.

"What are the characters?"

"Arabic." Your smile turns sweet, bright, even, and the words come tumbling past your lips, like you had been proud to have those as your words your whole life, holding them dear to your heart. Damian's heart stutters in his chest at how enamored you look.

"Was the "woah" first or second?" The mayor turns to ask Damian.

"After. I had read the characters, and the only reaction I was given was "Woah."" Damian hums. "Are we finished?"

"Yes." The mayor laughs. "It's very much a romantic soulmate. Have the two of you..?"

"Not yet." Damian hums, standing up, holding his hand out for you. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Wayne. I hope to see the both of you at the Wayne gala later this year."

Damian leads you back to the elevator, music filling the air as the two of you stand there in silence.

"When would you like our first date to be?" Damian steps to the side, turning to look at you.

"Oh, um." You frown. "I'm not sure. I'd go, but I already submitted my leave for the weekend. My friend and her soulmate are getting married."

Damian raises a brow. "Not here?"

"They're getting married in the Maldives." You laugh awkwardly. "Her soulmate is loaded."

"More than me?" Damian raises a brow playfully.

"Well, loaded in the millionaire way." You smile. "Not billionaire."

"Do you have a date? Should I go with you?"

"Oh." You pause. "I could bring you, huh?" You press your fingers to your lips, pursing them. "I put down a plus one because I was expecting to bring another friend... I suppose it could be you."

"Did you put down a name?"

"No. They do not have a seating chart."

"Mm." He pauses. "is it too fast?"

"No, no!" You smile. "I'll send you the details... via email?" You grimace at how strange it sounds.

"May I have your phone? I can give you my number."

"Yes." You fish it out for him as he hands you his phone. You type your name in, typing habibti under company. You text yourself as he does with himself. The two of you trade phones back, and you send Damian the packing list and details of the wedding immediately. Damian scrolls through the list, pausing.

"Is there a specific invitation I am required to bring?"

"I have both. I will bring them." You smile. "Any other questions?"

The elevator stops at parking, and Damian leads you out. You make a beeline for the car this time, texting your friend to confirm the guest you would be bringing. She asks you if it's your soulmate, and you tell her to check the Gotham Gazette in the morning. She sends you a flurry of texts.

"Will our soulmate bond get leaked?"

"Perhaps by the paparazzi. Why?"

"I'd like for it to be a good photo of me."

"I will let my publicist know."

You check the news the next morning, beaming at how good you look in the photo. Damian looks protective of you, and as you rush to your lab in the morning, your heart is warm. You're glad he has a good eye for that, at the very least. The groupchat explodes with people looking for you, asking if it was true your soulmate was Damian, your friend private texting you to check if your guest was Damian. You only respond to your friend, confirming his attendance. She tells you she expects an expensive gift out of you, and you snort. You joke about relaying her message to Damian.

You tuck everything away as you get back to your experiment.

The end of the day comes quickly, and as you close the lab for the night, you blink when you stare at Damian at the door. You click on your phone, checking to see if you had missed any messages from him, but nothing appears. You raise a brow as you open the door with all of your stuff. "Something wrong, Mr. Wayne?"

"Damian is fine." He nods. "I was wondering what I should bring for your friend's wedding."

"Mm," You frown. "I was going to bring her a nice bottle of wine from one of my travels, but I'm sure you have something much better than that in the winehouse at your place."

"We do. We have a screaming eagle cabernet from the 90s."

"Woah." You blink. "That sounds like a lot. Isn't that like 500k?"

"We have multiple bottles." He insists. "I can bring one."

You grimace. "If you insist."

"It can be our gift. From the both of us."

"The tabloids have already started calling me a gold digger." You laugh.

"My publicist will take care of that. I will have father get you one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He hums. "Where do you live? I can drive you home."

"Um." You give him your address. It takes him a moment to figure out where you live, and then the two of you are off.

"I will send someone for you tomorrow," He hums. "We can take the private jet. I already got your tickets refunded."

"Oh. Wow." You blink at him in awe. "That's really kind. Thank you."

"No worries." He hums. "You should get used to it."

"Do all your brothers spoil their soulmates like that?"

"Grayson, the eldest," Damian grumbles. "worships the ground his soulmate steps on. Todd does the same, though less obvious about it. Drake's known his soulmate forever so the two of them click too well. Duke and his soulmate are platonic soulmates, but the two of them get along far better than we do as a family. Steph and Cass both have not found their soulmates and father..." he pauses. "father and his soulmate are... an interesting two."

"So your family all spoil their soulmates?"

"There is nothing out of reach with the amount of money we have. It is not spoiling if we are simply letting them get whatever they want because it is not a burden on us financially." Damian takes a turn. "We do not consider it spoiling."

"That's sweet." You smile. "How big were their rings?"

"Grayson's soulmate got the biggest diamond in existence. None of us could believe our eyes." Damian hums. "How big of a diamond would you want?"

"I'd like you to hand make a ring for me." You grin. "Of course, if you don't have time, I want something the color of your eyes to match my soulmate mark."

"Why not both?" He stops at the door to your apartment.

"How about you?" You open the door, tilting your head at him.

"Whatever color your eyes are."

You hate how good he is with his words.

Damian drives home, your words in the back of his mind. A handmade ring. Maybe you'd be willing to wear his name on your skin if he makes you a ring with a gem the color of his eye. Though, he'd be rushing. Even if his skin burned to touch you and his heart raced to be held by you, he did not wish to rush it. Messing up with you was far scarier than getting hurt during patrol.

He texts the family chat that he would be using the jet the next day, to which Dick had asked eagerly where he was going. Damian leaves him on read. He finds you at the door in the morning the next day, taking your suitcase from you as you yawn.

"Did you have breakfast yet?"

You blink at him, rubbing your eyes. "No. Do you have food?"

"You can have some of Grayson's cereal."

You blink harder as he hands you a bowl with the cereal and milk, and you stare at the cereal brand.

"Wow. The amount of sugar in this could kill someone."

"Some days I wish it were enough to kill Grayson."

You pour out a little bit of the cereal, pouring the milk in, and then dig in. You read the ingredients as Damian goes upstairs, pulling his own luggage down the stairs, meeting you back in the kitchen when you finish. You clean the dishes, setting them to the side as Damian comes to get you.

"You did not need to wash the dishes."

"I didn't want to leave a mess." You reason.

"It's fine. We're leaving now. You ready?"

"Yeah." You grin. "Is takeoff rough?"

"It's very smooth." He hums. "I gave the pilot the address and everything already. We land in around three hours."

"Alright." You hum.

The jet, plane, was huge. You blink in surprise at the size as Damian leads you up the steps, and you blink quietly. "Woah."

"Surprised?"

"What's the use of having such a large plane? Isn't the carbon footprint huge?"

"We usually fly first class, but I figured since your friends all wanted to see what kind of a person you were dating, I shouldn't be stingy." Damian hums.

"There's really no need." You laugh.

"Also, more privacy." He hums. "I figured you deserve to know what kind of life I live outside of the tabloids."

You tilt your head at him. "Are you going to tell me you're Batman or something?"

The plane door shuts behind him, and he exhales.

"Robin."

Your eyes widen, lips pursing, surprise on your face.

"Is that too much too quick?"

"No." You pause. "No. That's. That's actually kind of hot."

Damian raises a brow.

"Are you still Robin? Because I think—"

"No," Damian shakes his head. "I run around with another name now, already graduated from the title, but I thought I would tell you since."

"Yeah." You exhale. "What about the weekend?"

"Todd and Drake are here. There is no need to fret."

"So your whole family is in on the business?"

"Yes."

"Wow." You mumble. "That's..."

Damian braces himself for the worst. He doesn't know why, your face is far from disgusted or terrified, but he still does. Maybe you would reject him or tell him to stop. That would be a nightmare.

"And you like doing it?"

"Yes." He raises a brow.

"Um, please don't come back to me dead. Ever. Please." You scratch your cheek. "If you like doing it, then I won't stop you. I'd just prefer you don't die on the job."

"Do not worry. If I were to die, my mother would simply drop me into the Lazarus pit." Damian jokes.

"That's some lore drop there." You blink. "That's real?"

"Yes." He raises a brow. "For the same reason my grandfather is immortal, by the same logic, so would I."

"Woah." You mumble. "I heard rumors of it when I was travelling. I didn't know it existed."

"Fountain of youth."

"Is that why you look so good?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that." You smile.

"And you?"

"I told you I travel." You nod. "Oh, it might be good to tell you about the friend getting married."

You tell him details about how the two of you met, telling him about your other friends at the same time, mumbling about how you thought her soulmate was actually an asshole just from the way he treated her friends, and then casually mentioning his name, Damian blinking.

"Do you know him?"

"Drake has done business with his family before."

"His family's a nightmare. The only reason I'm going is because my friend is an angel. I wouldn't go for any other reason."

Damian finds peace in the way your voice floods his senses, gathering intel on your friends, understanding who he had to avoid and who he could make small talk with. He had a feeling he'd know a couple of the people there from the groom's side, and from the way you talked about him, it wouldn't be pleasant if they found out he was your soulmate. Despite that, he finds that there is no need to worry too much. You were close to the bride's side. That's all that seemed to matter to you. You pause at some point, almost as if you were thinking of something.

"Something wrong?"

"We brought the wine, right?"

"Yes. I had the servants bring it."

"Alright." You mumble. "I'm not looking forward to what the groom has to say to me about you."

"I will stay next to you the whole time. My publicist will deal with everything."

"Speaking of which, who is your publicist?"

Damian smiles. "Grayson's soulmate."

"Ahhh." You laugh. That checks out.

There's not much jetlag when the two of you land, and you stare at the afternoon sun through your shades, hand held up. It's nice and warm, a contrast to the spring weather in Gotham. Damian leads you to the car, making a call as he does, handing you the tablet for you to choose which suite to get upgraded to.

"Are we sharing a bed?" You blink at him.

"We can order a room with two beds if you'd like."

"Would that be rude?"

"Not at all."

Damian finds that you've selected a room with a king bed instead, noticing the way your ears were flushed as you stared out the window. He confirms with the hotel on the call, putting the charge on his father's card. He wondered if you would call this spoiling. His brothers had told him that his soulmate deserved the best treatment, and Damian couldn't really tell what they had meant. He never lived a normal life. He wasn't sure if his normal was their best or if there was something better that he could give them. He opts for staring at your face instead, taking in your features.

"The upgrade." He swallows. "It is alright, right?"

"Yes." You smile at him. "It's more than okay. Thank you, a lot."

"The best, for you." He mumbles.

The two of you settle into the hotel room. Damian glances at the clothes you bring, exhaling quietly to himself when he realizes he brought a decent palette of clothes. The wedding's theme was lavender, and he was starting to get worried that he wouldn't be able to match with you at all, but he's happy to find that you've got colors similar to his.

"Do I need to call you anything?"

"It'd be funny if you call me habibti," You grin. "The bride is a friend from when I first got my soulmate mark. She was there when we tried searching up what the word on my wrist meant."

"Ah. You go back a long time."

"A very long time." You smile. "What was it like for you? Seeing your soulmate mark?"

"My family was in my room at midnight, including my mother, and everyone groaned when I got the most generic word ever. They thought I would never find my soulmate. Todd joked that my soulmate must be blown away by my face." He hums in amusement, noticing you avert your gaze. "I still owe him twenty. Dick's soulmate word was "hello" and only Drake had something remotely entertaining."

"What was it? If you don't mind me asking." You blink at him.

"I quote "We should get married." It was quite the sentence." Damian chuckles.

"That sounds funny." Your lips pull up into a smile. "I had a friend get "we should fuck" as their first sentence. Then I found out my best friend at the time had "Yo." as theirs."

"Did you like your first line?"

"I did." You beam at him, unclasping the clip for your suitcase. "I loved it. When my father told me it meant darling or my love in Arabic, I was elated. I thought my soulmate would be the most romantic man in the world, and I was ecstatic."

"Am I?" Damian raises a brow as you pull out a dress.

"Yes." Your smile stretches impossibly wider. "I'm very happy."

"I'm happy to hear that. What's the dress code for tonight?"

"You brought a polo, right? Rich boy, old money vibes. Polo shirt and khakis."

"Got it." He nods. "What color will you be wearing?"

"Everything I brought is some variation of the color palette for the wedding," You hum. "I'll be wearing this."

"I am sure you'll look dashing in it, habibti." He smiles.

You flush at the word, hiding your face in your dress.

"Is it too much?"

"No." You smile at him. "Just enough. I'll get used to it."

Damian wonders what kind of friends you had at seven. Yet, he finds himself blinking in surprise when the two of you arrive at the event.

"Woah, he's an item..." Your friend's jaw drops, patting your shoulders gently. "Damian Wayne? Pleasure to meet you. I'm your soulmate's best friend."

"No, I am." Another friend butts in.

"You're all wrong." The bride scoffs playfully. "I am."

Damian nods at them.

"We'll bring the gift tomorrow at the wedding." You smile at the bride, rushing off with them as Damian heads over to the side, making small talk with who he assumed the groom was. He finds himself with his eyes on you the whole night, only sparing glances at the people he was talking to when you would stare back at him. You look pretty. He understands why his brothers had clicked with their soulmates so quickly now. He excuses himself at some point, pressing his chest to your back, hand resting on your waist.

"Having fun? That's your second margarita, not to mention your cocktails."

You grin at him, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "It's actually my fourth."

"I think that is enough." He hums. "There's still a dinner."

"I can hold my alcohol." You mumble, and Damian takes the glass from your hand, downing the whole thing in one gulp. You blink at him, wide-eyed. "Woah."

"Let's get you seated, hm? Dinner starts soon. Cocktail hour is for after the dinner."

"Can I bring a drink to our room later?" You mumble.

"Yes." He excuses the two of you from the bride, settling down where your names were put, and he presses a patch into your skin, rubbing your arm as he waits for the neutralizer to course through your system. He probably should have asked if you were okay with it, but he has one on himself, so it's not like he was actively trying to drug you. You turn your head when you notice him rubbing the patch onto your skin, mind clearing a little.

"What is that?"

"Neutralizer. It helps with filtering alcohol."

"Oh, it works." You grin at him. "Thank you."

"Of course. I have one in my arm too."

"That sure explains why you didn't pass out from the sheer glasses of champagne you were having." You mumble.

"Who's at our table?"

"Two other girls and their soulmates. The two girls that were next to the bride and I earlier."

"Alright." He hums, letting his hand fall down to your side, staring at you as you wave your friends over. "Any exes?"

"Nope. I didn't date anyone that didn't greet me with what was on my wrist. It was pretty easy, considering that most people are ignorant. I also kept a bracelet around my wrist for the most part." You smile. "You?"

"Two. Maybe. I do not know if they count. I hooked up with them while..."

"In costume?"

"yeah."

You shrug, starting a conversation with your friend instead, catching up with her. Damian listens briefly, eyes focused on you instead, enamored with you. He's hopeless, he decides. He has no saving grace from you. He doesn't get to make fun of his brothers anymore, not when he was just like them. Your friends take notice of it, smiling when he notices their gaze. You're loved. Just from the way your friends had smiled at him and then at you, you're loved. He understands why. It'd be hard not to love you.

You excuse yourself early, exhaustion from the plane setting in late, Damian helping you up and leading the two of you back. You let the bride know with a hand on her back, and she shoos you away playfully, mumbling about how you should use protection. You sigh dramatically, telling her you'd make her an aunt on purpose. It was a joke from the way you had said it, but Damian wonders if you'd actually want kids of your own — shit, his brain was moving fast. He barely knows you.

"Were you actually tired?"

"Any longer and you would've seen how embarrassing my friends get when drunk." You mumble. "Embarassing bunch."

"How embarrassing?" He raises a brow. "My brothers are a nightmare when drunk as well."

"They won't shut up." You press your keycard on the lock. "About me."

"They love you a lot."

"They do." You turn to smile at Damian. "And I love them too, even if they don't shut up about my embarrassing stories when drunk. They're probably embarrassing the bride instead though."

"That would make more sense."

"They kept trying to get people to read the writing on my wrist last time." You hum. "That was after grad."

"So recently."

"Yeah. No one was able to read it." You laugh. "And the ones who could, they didn't say it to me. They called my friends habibti."

"You do not say it with an accent." Damian notices. "Habibti."

"Huh?" You pause while rummaging for your sleepwear. "Oh, yeah. I... my parents got me an Arabic teacher for a little while because I wanted to learn when I first got my mark. I've also visited... a lot of the countries? In part it's because I'd repeat the word to myself until I feel asleep until like..." You avert your gaze, going back to your suitcase. Damian notices you start flushing. "end of high school?"

"Ten years?" Damian exhales. "You whispered your word to yourself before bed for ten years?"

"Yeah." You finally find your pajamas in the baggage. "A little bit of a hopeless romantic, huh?"

Damian doesn't answer you, staring into your eyes instead, unmoving, barely blinking.

"Is it that bad?"

Damian breaks from his trance. "No. Not at all. It's..." endearing — but he can't say that, so he offers you a nod instead. He curses himself for the lack of game when it came to you, but as you rush to change in the bathroom, he sighs. It's hopeless. He's enamored. He understands why you had stared up at him with your pupils blown wide and lips parted upon first meeting. He does the same now, staring down at you like you were his everything, even if he knew barely anything about you outside of what you had told him. Well, he could always ask Drake to hack and gather intel on you. But it'd be a breach of privacy that he didn't want to cross with you. Ugh.

He pushes his hair back in frustration, opting for clearing his mind with work instead. Even if he had taken the weekend off with you, he should really do something that isn't thinking of all the ways he'd have your skin pressed to his at night — no, fuck. Damian opens his laptop, clicks on his VPN and the wifi, sorting through the emails from the WE teams instead. He barely notices the sound of the bathroom door opening and you step out with your sleepwear on. At some point, Tim texts him to get off his emails and enjoy the time with you, threatening to bench him. Damian grimaces, wondering how he could get benched in a company situation, but he doesn't argue back. He was trying to avoid talking to you, after all.

You're in bed on your phone, scrolling through something.

"What are you looking at?" Damian settles on his side of the bed.

"I'm watching my friend's wedding tiktoks." You smile, rolling over to show him. "The preparation ones. She's going to make more tomorrow."

Damian hums. "Can I put an arm around your waist? My arm..."

"Yeah." You grin. "You can touch me."

Damian's breath catches in his throat at how straightforward you are, arm wrapping around your torso slowly, resting his chin on your head, glancing down at your phone.

"Do you think about weddings?"

You close your phone, plugging it back in on the strand, settling yourself in Damian's arms. "Sometimes."

"What kind do you want?"

"I want your name on my skin at the wedding," You mumble, eyes already closed.

"Like bridal henna?"

"Mhm."

Damian struggles to sleep the whole night because of your words. Though, it's not like he's gone without sleep before. Instead, he spends the night matching his breathing to yours, wrapping his arms tighter around you, taking in the scent of your shampoo. At some point his eyes close, body betraying him and falling to the need. He wakes up to you shifting in his arms, turning around to get a look at his face better, lashes blinking on his skin, eyes staring up at him, sun reflecting in them.

Damian's breath hitches, and in his morning stupor, he rests his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes, nose touching yours, the love of the universe in the way he looks at you. His shoulders relax as he continues looking, sure that his pupils have expanded beyond repair, utterly enamored with how you looked in the morning. His arms squeeze around your waist affectionately, moving to bury his head into the crook of your neck, exhaling as he does.

"Good morning." He feels you smile.

"Good morning to you too, habibti." He mumbles back, smile mirroring yours, he's sure.

The wedding moves without too big of an issue, the two of you bring the wine and leave it at the gift table, Damian sits next to you the whole time, watching as you get the bouquet practically launched at you, catching it with a flinch, chasing after the bride with the bouquet as a weapon, messing up your hair in the meantime but getting a laugh out of it. Damian stands to the side, talking only briefly with the groom's family, introducing himself as your soulmate, not Damian Wayne. He was yours first before he was a businessman now. Yours. It rings nicely in his head. He was yours. He would be fine with that — being yours.

At some point you return to Damian's side, sighing with the bouquet in hand.

"When's our wedding?" You joke, putting the bouquet on the table.

"It'll take a while." Damian hums, smoothing out your hair for you. "We still have to date and get engaged."

"I should've dodged."

"You wouldn't have been able to. Your friend did it on purpose." Damian mumbles, finishing with your hair.

"Is it alright?"

"Yes." He presses his lips to your forehead. "You look great, habibti."

You smile at him, the moon behind you this time.

"When do we fly?"

"I booked the plane for tomorrow." Damian hums. "We can sleep in."

"Oh, bless." You grumble. "The shoes are killing me."

"Would you like mine?" He offers. "Or would you like for me to carry you back?"

You pause, glancing at the emptier hall.

"I wouldn't dare let you take off your shoes for me." You smile at him.

"Sit, please," and you do, settling down as Damian gets on a knee, slipping your heels from your feet, holding onto them with one hand, the other hooking under your knees as he tells you to wrap your arms around his neck. You yelp as he does, and you wave bye to the bride as he settles you in his arms bridal style, your arms around his neck for support as he holds onto your shoes.

"Please don't drop me." You mumble.

"I wouldn't dare." He steps toward the elevator, pressing your floor as you pull the room card out from your pocket. (you had shown him before, with a spin, that your dress had pockets. Damian made a note to remember you liked them.)

He sets you on bed, loosening his tie and placing your heels down by your shoes, taking off his blazer to hang up in the closet. He watches you shimmy out of the dress, naked form to his eyes, breath catching in his throat at the way the moonlight illuminates your skin. He doesn't move, watching as you pull the robe from next to him, body on autopilot as you step into the showers. He'd wash up after you, unbuttoning his shirt and ditching his pants, sorting through his own luggage to find a change of clothes.

You open the door to the bathroom, robe on, blinking at his bare back.

"You're built like a wall." You blurt.

"Am I?" Damian hums.

"Does this come with your family or something? All of you are HUGE." You rub the towel through your hair.

"I suppose it does." Damian stands up, change of clothes in hand. "It's also from the training."

"For night?" You try your best to be vague. Damian appreciates it.

"Yes." He nods. "Would you like to see when we get back?"

"Sure." You grin. "Is it big?"

"It's a cave." Damian closes the door to the bathroom.

"Woah." You mumble. "Wild."

You settle yourself in the bed, back on your phone, yawning as you respond to a couple texts, scrolling through your email, checking the CCTV footage of the experiment you were doing. You had someone checking to see if the experiment was working, and from what they had told you, everything had replicated perfectly. You let out a sigh of relief when you found out. It would be fine. You'd finish with it, and then you'd retire somewhere with the money promised you in the contract. You worked hard for the moment.

You feel the bed dip behind you.

"Looking at the updates?"

"The experiment is moving faster than before." You mumble. "I should be able to report to your father in around a week."

"And then?"

You blink. "Not sure. I was thinking of finding a high rise to live in."

"Not with me?" Damian wraps his arms around you, getting comfortable.

"Don't you still live in the manor?"

"It's comfortable there." He mumbles. "I also have an empty apartment of my own. Would you like to move there?"

"Would you move in with me?" You turn to face him, phone on the nightstand.

"If you'd like."

"Yes, please," You grin. "If you'd like."

"Then I'd love to." He mumbles, reaching over you to close the light.

Damian takes you to the Batcave first, having the servants take your stuff to the apartment without asking you, adjusting the grandfather clock and letting you inside the cave, shutting it behind him. The two of you arrive right before patrol, and you get to meet all of his siblings. All of them. Even Nightwing.

"Who's this?"

"Soulmate." Tim doesn't bother looking at you, pressing his mask on. "Showing her around already? And you call us whipped."

"Shut up, Drake." Damian spits.

"Are you on duty tonight?"

"We take turns." Damian hums.

"Are any of these liquids active?" You stare at the tubes.

"Those two are for Ivy when she attacks. Less these days, but she occasionally strikes us with sex pollen for fun. Those are neutralizers. That one's for Scarecrow's fear toxin, and that one—"

You nod along as Damian explains everything to you, waving at his siblings as they head off for patrol.

"Are you tomorrow?"

"Yes." He hums. "Did you want to come along?"

"That's too dangerous." Batman speaks up, and you pause.

"Mr. Wayne." You smile politely. "Didn't peg you to be the type to run around to try and fix crime."

"Desperate times call for desperate situations." He chuckles. "Damian, take care of her. The computer is off limits."

"Yes, father." Damian nods as he disappears too.

"Who's on patrol tomorrow?"

"Father goes every night, and then tomorrow is Spoiler, Orphan, Signal, and I."

"SOS..." You mumble quietly. "Sors. Ross. Ross."

Damian raises a brow.

"Your names." You smile. "You would be team Ross."

"If that makes you happy." He leads you back up the stairs.

"Do you have an intercom?"

"Oracle. She works every night."

"Is she a sibling?"

"No. She used to be Batgirl."

"mm." You nod slowly. "Oh, it's late, huh? I should probably head home."

"You can stay here for the night. I had the servants send your luggage to my apartment. I can drive the two of us to work tomorrow." Damian shuts the clock behind the two of you.

"You have the same hours as us?"

"Yes."

"Speaking of which, how come you and Tim don't go to work together?"

"Tim does not live in the manor. He lives with his soulmate." He leads you to his room. "This is my room. Make yourself comfortable."

You mumble something under your breath about how big the bed is before you head over to the bathroom to wash up. "Are there pajamas I can borrow?" You peek from the door.

"I'll leave them on the bed." He pulls a shirt and clean boxers from his closet, setting them on the bed, settling at his desk, reading through what he would be meeting about the next day. He had hoped Tim would've taken care of the meetings over the weekend, but he supposes he can't avoid everything. It's painfully boring. The meetings are always boring.

"Whatcha looking at?" You come out with a towel in your hair, maneuvering his shirt onto you, putting on his boxers. It's a size too big, and you have to use a hair tie to keep it in place.

"I have a meeting tomorrow."

You shudder. "I don't miss having meetings."

"Did you intern somewhere else?"

"I interned in England for a bit." You lean over his shoulder, staring at the meeting details. "Oh, on the product."

"Yes, the new birth control we're trying to release. The injection."

"It would be helpful. I can't say blocking hormones is good for the body." You mumble. "Does it work on males?"

"We're releasing both versions."

"That's good." You mumble. "It'd be really helpful."

"Dick's soulmate made us read through the entire list of possible side effects of birth control and scared us half to death." Damian hums. "Even father."

"I read through it once."

"Do you take birth control?"

"Nope. Never slept with anyone, didn't plan on sleeping with people." You shrug. "You?"

Damian pauses. "I haven't either."

"Oh, really?" You mumble. "You've dated before."

"Hooked up." He corrects. "I always felt bad after kissing."

You laugh. "That was the universe telling you no."

"Perhaps." He shrugs. "Let's get to bed."

You barely see Damian after that, the two of you busy with your own affairs in the company, busy with moving your stuff into the apartment outside of work. Damian drives you home and helps you with the boxes, but the two of you don't have substantial conversation. Even when you finish the trials and present everything to the board, Damian doesn't get to have a moment with you, invitations to speak at colleges and other locations flooding into your mail. Damian finally catches you as you finish moving into the apartment.

"Habibti." He breathes, arms wrapping around your shoulders, head resting on your head. "I was looking for you."

"You could've called." You smile at him, voice muffled by his chest.

"You were not answering."

"My bad." You wiggle to loosen his arms, smile on your face. "Bruce transferred the money to my account. I'll be taking a break for a bit before I go speak at all those invitations."

"I am going to retire." He grumbles. "I never get to see you."

"We live together." You grin. "You get to see me every day now."

"Not enough." He mumbles. "I will leave Drake to deal with the family business."

"You're needed, you know? They need you for all the charity you guys do now." You pat his chest gently. "All of the animal shelters you volunteer at too."

"Would you like to visit one with me? There's an event tomorrow at the shelter to bring a friend."

"Oh, so I'm just a friend to you?" You tilt your head at him playfully.

"A friend," He presses a kiss to the corner of your left eye. "Habibti," He presses another kiss to the corner of your right eye. "And my soulmate." He rests his forehead on yours, hands on your face, eyes on your lips. "May I?"

You press your lips to his in response.

You're a work of art. Damian finds himself with an arm around your waist much more than he could have ever thought, his own life mingled with yours to the point of no return. You meant so much to him. You were the world to him. Fingers laced with yours at events, lips pressed to your hair in the rays of the morning sun, there was little to complain about and everything to be grateful for. His own little ray of the sun to make his life a little better.

Which is why he finds himself checking for the quality of the diamond, discussing the price of the gem with the dealer, running it through tests just to make sure it was the best. The emeralds he picks are hand-selected too, calling his mother as she teaches him how to discern between the good ones and bad ones. You were still yet to meet her, but for some reason, she had not asked questions, only wishing him luck on the proposal. It would take a while between everything he had on his hands.

"You've been coming back later these days." You hum, resting your head on his chest.

"My apologies, habibti," He mumbles. "I've been busy."

"Even on the nights you don't patrol?"

"Yes." He mumbles. "I am not cheating, if you are worried."

"I wouldn't think of it." You close your eyes. "I trust you."

"I love you, a lot." He whispers, wrapping his fingers around your ring finger.

"I love you too." You mumble back, curling the finger.

Damian struggles with the first two prototypes, fingers too rough against the metal, groaning as he fails again, the jeweler only laughs affectionately, assuring him he would be fine. He tries again and again until the mold comes out how he wants it to look, the gold chosen so that it wouldn't rust. The chances of you wearing your engagement ring while working were rare, but he still wanted to guarantee that it would not rust quickly. You deserved the world, and he'd make sure of it, even in something as simple as the ring he would give you.

On his seventh try, he gets a mold that leaves him satisfied. He had gotten your ring finger fitted before on top of his nightly routine of wrapping his fingers around it, and he was sure it would fit. The gems arrive cut out perfectly, the green diamond compared to his eyes by Dick and his brothers' soulmates a hundred times, assuring him that the color matched his eyes perfectly. Damian almost got his eyes color matched had it not been Bruce himself stepping in, assuring him that it matched his eyes well. The emeralds would match his eyes in different lighting. He was fine. Only then did Damian let the jeweler settle the diamonds into the ring, making sure that the gems wouldn't just tumble out. Not that he didn't trust the jeweler — he was worried it'd fall out on accident — alright, he doesn't trust the jeweler.

On the day the ring was completed, Damian had checked it under the light, mumbling to himself about how he hoped you like it. He had made it by hand as you told him you wanted him to, and the gems were all hand selected and picked to match his eyes. You'd be happy with it no matter what he gives you as an engagement ring, he's sure, but he had held your words close to his heart. You deserved an engagement ring you had dreamed of as a child. On the inside of the band, habibti is written in Arabic, a reminder of your soulmate bond, his heart full.

"You're home on time for once!" You beam, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I missed you, habibti." He mumbles, arms wrapped around your waist.

"I made dinner for us since you promised you'd be home today." You pull him along.

As he follows you, the ring in his back pocket feels lighter, your fingers curled around his, lips pulled into a dazzling smile.

He's yours.

From the known past to the unpredictable future, he was yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

im so inlove w this guy. hes funny, generally effortlessly funny too, hes got a devil fruit, AND he can comfort and save a fucking city/place and save millions of ppl

pleeeasseeee can i get some more luffy? i love how you write him 🥺

ive grown so used to you somehow - luffy x reader fluff

YESSSSS i forgot how to read and write but im back!!!

fluff, gn reader!! no warnings, just luffy being sweet af, same old same old

Ripples of hushed laughter slipped past your split lips as you tried your best to keep hushed, two warm bodies against the dark backdrop of the night. Nighttime at sea was always eerily dark, which made the stars stark in contrast to the seamless meeting of sky and sea. It was late, the sweltering summer day cooled pleasantly by the setting of the sun. Occasionally a warm breeze would threaten the flame burning in the lanterns holding the blanket down below you, but you didn’t pay it much mind.

“Even when I do this?” Luffy warped his face into some impossible expression, causing you to slap your hand across your mouth as you fought another laugh.

You were breathless as you nodded, “Yes, I still think you’re cute when you do that face.”

“Hey, come on, I wanna hear it!” he reached to pull your hand down before you slapped his arm in protest.

“Okay,” you whispered, “Seriously, stop, we’re gonna wake everyone up,” your tone was hushed buy the sincerity of your words dampened by the laughter cracking through. It didn’t help that his smile was so infectious, his face so warmed by the soft lantern light.

You both caught your breath, lungs exhausted from hours of laughing, and a deeper silence filled the space as it always has the tendency of doing.

You sighed, and as you looked back at Luffy to catch the traces of laughter residing in his eyes, you found he was looking right at you too, gaze unwavering.

You cocked your head, “What?” He mimicked your action, smiling as you saw eye-to-eye again.

“You’re so pretty!”

You lolled your head to the other side. “So are you!”

His smile cracked his face in two as he giggled, “I mean it!”

You sat up straight, and he followed, “What makes you say that now, though?” You didn’t realize that he’d scooted closer to you until he started speaking again.

“I always say it, don’t I?” He leaned a tad closer, bottom lip tucked into his lips, the smile never leaving.

“You do, but I’m wondering what exactly do I do that makes you say it?” He’s getting really very close now, you think.

“Hmm,” he makes a show of putting his fist on his chin, scrunching his eyebrows. You laugh, touching his forehead to make the faux frustration ease away.

“You do that!” He grabs your wrist and pulls it to rest in his hand, gently lacing his fingers with yours.

“Do what!?” Your eyes widen, searching desperately to understand what exactly he’s gunning for.

“Little stuff, like just now,” his thumb starts to rub circles into your hand, “you make me smile when you laugh, and how you like when I’m making stupid jokes,” he presses into your palm, a motion that calls you to look into his eyes, away from where he’s holding you.

“I just like being around you, and how you make me feel, and I like to look at you while you do those things. You make me better.”

The heat in your cheeks is enough to tell you that you’re blushing like crazy and, with a sweltering smile, you look away.

a/n HELLO thank you for the request sm i loved writing this it was so damn cute!!! please send in more ideas and i will try my best to fulfill them! sorry for falling off the face of the earth (one year closer to my bachelors degree) 😼🏄‍♀️💪

ALSO title from the lyrics of “lovesick blues” by hank williams hehehe

— ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و the look of love.

౨ৎ batboys x gn!reader ( separated ) ౨ৎ cw . non-proof read. ౨ৎ summary . how they look at you ౨ৎ . gwens note . short and rushed fic ౨ৎ wc . 327

the amount of love in dick’s eyes was overwhelming. his gaze would dilate whenever you were near, his eyes softening, smiling in a way that felt so intimate. he looked at you like you his whole world, unwavering and unrelenting. his love poured out of him so completely it was almost suffocating. there is no hint of anything else but fondness in his eyes. this man has absolutely zero amount of nonchalance.

oh geez, the way jason’s eyes would immediately soften when his gaze meets you. everyone would’ve noticed how tender his gaze seemed whenever you were there. he searches everywhere for you. whenever you walk into the room, his eyes would light up as well. his blinks are slow, signaling that hes relaxed and calm around you. ( i headcanon that jason would sometimes avoid your gaze cause he gets nervous at times, though. )

tim looks at you as if he was studying your every move. he notices every single detail and quirk of you. yes, he pays attention to your features. and he remembers every single one of them. sometimes, he would point out some of your features that he absolutely adores. ( i feel like if tim were to come across those tiktok posts where its like ‘find out what type of pretty you are’ videos, he would answer for you and send it to you, stating which one you are. )

damian’s eyes never leave you. if he was to tell a joke and you were around, he’d immediately look at you to see if you heard him, searching for the slightest hint of a reaction. the world could quite literally be falling apart before him, and he’d still keep hold of his gaze. his eyes would always follow you wherever you go. however, his gaze is quite intense. most of the times, he looks like he’s silently judging your every move, when he’s actually just quietly looking out for you, just in case something happens.

reblogs and likes are very appreciated ! thank you luvlies for reading ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

wow

Loving on Jason Todd after a long night of patrol.

He's sitting in the bathtub, the water pooling around his limbs stained pink from all the blood washing off his skin—none is his, and you're thankful for that.

Your hands gently scrub his hair as he sighs, relaxing against the white porcelain. You take extra care in scrubbing the sweat from the white streak in his night-black hair. Soap-lathered fingers scrape at his scalp, gently ridding the grime of the Gotham streets from his body.

It's nothing sexual when you help him wash, running a cloth over his arms and legs and scarred chest, taking careful measures to not go too hard over the 'Y' that runs under his pecs and down his belly. You kiss his heart, and he breathes a huff of relief at the sheer domesticated feel of it all.

Jason loves being pampered by your hands, the ones that have never harmed him. He feels safe, even though he is in his most vulnerable state. He'll lazily follow the motions of your hands with his eyes with a little grin on his lips, leaning into every touch, soaking in every soft word.

My boy, you call him, and the world seems all sunshine and rainbows for as long as you're with him. He wishes you'd stay forever, be his forever.

Jason loves you a little too much.

Winter Series: Day 7 - Mistletoe

Summary: how  the tradition is kept when the two of you stand under the mistletoe that’s hung in front of the Christmas Tree as everyone is in the room to enjoy the Christmas party

Dick:

Duke covers Damian’s eyes, Stephanie covers Cass’, Tim rolls his eyes, and Jason asks who the hell is the culprit. Of course, honorable mentions for Alfred’s unamused expression and Bruce rubbing his forehead out of exasperation. For ten plus hours all he’s been wanting was to kiss you once. Just once. But, no matter how much he tried, it was impossible to even get a quick peck from how busy the two of you were with helping in preparing for the Christmas party in the manor. It gnaws at his mind from listening to your laughter and catching you smiling every time he passes by yet he wasn’t able to steal a quick one, much less be with you. So imagine how he feels when someone genuinely, innocently points out the mistletoe you and him stand under. With the glow of the fire in the fireplace and Christmas lights highlighting your features beautifully, his grin should’ve been obvious to what he plans next. His hand sliding from your waist to the small of your back, all his pent up frustration is released as he pulls and locks you in. There’s not a single drop of shame in him, ignoring your frantic taps on his bicep while taking in your burning face and tightly closed eyes as his fingers stay tangled in your hair. It tempts him to push against rationality and go further, only to not when he realizes you are literally out of air. With that, the kiss breaks and he pulls you up, laughing when you slap his arm while covering your face with a hand. He does complain a bit from the over exaggeration when everyone gets on his case after Alfred’s comment on how unacceptable his behavior was. He still thinks it’s worth it when your hand stays on his arm and he catches your blush remaining in your cheeks from the corner of his eyes.

Jason:

When it comes to traditions, Jason isn’t a stickler about it. As long as things seem Christmas-y and the people he cares for, especially you, are happy, he couldn’t care less. Ugly sweaters? Sure. Elv hats? That’s fine. Cover everything in gold, green, red, and white? Obnoxious, but tolerable. Mistletoe, though, is a whole different issue. He did hear about someone planning to hang mistletoe somewhere in the manor, but he needs to know whose idea it was to have it  hung in front of the Christmas tree of all places. And to make things better, it gets pointed out when everyone’s in the room while he stands under it with you whose arms are wrapped around his tricep. He was initially not going to do it despite all the crap the rest gives (Dick and Tim currently top 2 on his hit list), not wanting to put you in the center of what seems like unwanted attention, only for his brain to freeze when his eyes catch your actions. A hue of pink looking vermillion red in the warm light around your cheeks and tips of your ears, glancing up at him for a second and looking away right after. That does the trick, his mind backing up and taking a sharp detour. Silently sucking in his breath, the back of his hand brushes your face and pushes back some stray hair away before he leans down and captures your lips. It’s gentle, soft, and pure, none of the sappiness to be found as it lasts only for a few seconds. He chuckles when you instantly duck your head into his chest as soon as the two of you part, leading to some of the others to coo from the sight. Wrapping his arms around your form, he chuckles and starts giving crap back, gloating over none of them not winning like he was as he waits for you to recover. 

Tim:

There wasn’t supposed to be mistletoe. Much to Steph and Dick’s chagrin, he even made sure there wouldn’t be any, having gone through long lengths to get it banned from entering the manor and its vicinity this year. So how it got brought in and out of everyone, it was you two standing beneath it, he doesn’t have a clue. Knowing there’s no way out of it, he hasn’t stopped rubbing circles on the back of your hands as a means of keeping his sanity, color continuing to rise to his cheeks. PDA is not his strong suit, him treating intimacy being precious moments for him where he can re-memorize your features to all his heart's content without the worry of prying eyes or judgement. After all, he wants both yours and his days filled with memories of each other making every second count, not wanting a single regret left. That being said, having no contingencies for the unexpected situation, his mind starts to overwork itself to figure out how to deal with this debacle. How to make it brief but still perfect without being humiliating or gross, at what angle and pose to take that’ll be convenient for you and- oh. Eyes are suddenly wide open at first then slowly, fluttering closed. He leans in, tilting his head slightly as he melts from soft against soft, warmth against warmth. Tender yet brief, the two of you look at each other for a moment before ducking down, suddenly finding the grain in the wooden floors interesting. He’s very much aware both his hands are still holding yours. Not like there’s anything he can do about it, steam coming from his head with his blush now passing the base of his neck. He does note those that coos how he’s a “big bird flying on his own now”, swearing to get back at each of them in the most painful way. 

Duke:

It’s been over a minute since someone oh-so-kindly noticed a certain plant hanging over both of you and yet no progress has been made. Sure, some of it was from his rebellious side of not wanting to give into the pressure and the satisfaction. Really though, most of it was from how the two of you were the same red as Jason’s helmet after looking like deer in headlights. He does think credit is deserved for managing to physically face each other despite his eyes and yours avoids making contact. But that’s it. He continues to rub the back of his head and neck while you won’t stop playing with your hair, 0% confidence, 100% awkward and embarrassed from all the attention that’s being given. His mind stays conflicted and hesitant between going for it from how (and he’s pretty he’s hallucinating it) there seems to be gold reflecting off of you from all the lights while not wanting to make you uncomfortable or feel forced. So the plan was to wait for you to show some sort of sign, until he and you get pushed from behind. Initially there’s shock but it quickly disappears, his arms supporting you by the waist with your hands resting over them. The two of you stay in that position and then, slowly back away from what seems like forever when in reality, it wasn’t long in the slightest. Faces covered by one hand while the other slides down to hold the other, he swears he can hear sizzles from how badly you two are burning. It only gets worse when some start cheering, others even expressing how “cute” the scene was. He does appreciate Jason clapping Dick back when the former states something about “young love”, only for the latter to ask if the eldest had finally accepted being old. Bruce didn’t appreciate getting dragged in nor being referred to as ancient. 

Damian:

He refuses to do it. He won’t become entertainment for the family. According to what he found beforehand, it’s not even a tradition required to celebrate Christmas. It’s simply meant to romanticize the holiday and you and him are above romance for needing such a thing. He’s already having it bad where his heart won’t stop fluttering from you wearing the matching ugly sweater he’s wearing. His siblings keep pulling you away from him, curious who it was to have him wrapped around their little finger or so they said, though he fully disagrees that being the case. He tries to keep you near the snacks table so he can finally have you to himself only for it to not last long when your eyes land on the ridiculously large, yet admittingly, beautiful Christmas tree. Which of course, lands him into this situation that he completely faults you for, him having followed you when you suddenly started leaving his side. His scowl deepens when Tim and Steph go on about how it’s confirmed the two of you are really a couple for looking like matching red Christmas ornaments along with the matching sweaters. The rest of the siblings join in to egg on while Bruce and Alfred tries to mediate (Dick acted as if he was also but was obviously not when the corner of his lips kept twitching). Then, while he’s in the middle retorting back, he feels something on his cheek. He goes mute, words dying in his throat, his mind slowly processing what just occurred. Then he turns to you only for him to find your ears completely dyed, fidgeting nonstop and playing with the hem of the sweater. The moments get ruined from laughter but he eventually does your cheek back, telling you it’s his way of getting back at you with a stained pair of his own when no one looks. Or so he thought, which leads to round three of arguing to start. 

# “HOLD UP, POSE!” ── .✦ ( model!reader x batboys s/o kinda requested ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so sorry for the break and how i traumatized half of you guys with my rant (if I suffer you gonna do too && let’s move on now ) and it’s lowkeyy funny ngl but omgg, I’m finally back though soo yeah but I’m finally taking requests again for a bit too so about that yeah and also make sure to go vote on the poll, we’re at 600+ votes already for my 1k event!! Tags: (batboys x model!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Your biggest fan, no contest. He has a folder on his phone labeled “My Gorgeous Girl” filled with all your magazine covers, runway shots, and candid photos he’s sneakily taken of you (even the ones where you’re eating pizza in sweats).

Loves to drop the fact that you’re a model into conversations. Someone says something even remotely related, and Dick is like, “Oh, that reminds me of the time yn walked for Valentino. She looked stunning. Anyway, how’s your dog?”

Flirty but lowkey jealous. He’s all smiles at your shoots, but if a photographer or fellow model gets a little too friendly, he’ll sidle up behind you, wrap an arm around your waist, and casually go, “Hey, babe, everything good here?”

Runs your fan page in secret. He denies it every time, but you know it’s him posting like archive photos of you? with captions like, “Truly the most breathtaking woman alive.”

Always hypes you up. You’re stressing before a runway show? He’s holding your hands, looking you dead in the eyes, and saying, “You’re going to kill it, just like always. They’re not ready for you.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Pretends not to care, but he’s secretly obsessed. You’ll catch him flipping through your magazines with a bored expression, but the dog-eared pages of all your spreads say otherwise.

Gets grumpy when he has to share you with the world. “Do you really have to fly to Milan again? Can’t they get someone else to wear the fancy coat?” But he’s the first one to text you after your show with a “You looked amazing. Miss you, though.”

Always lurking at your events. He doesn’t do red carpets, but you’ll spot him in the back of the after-party, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, watching you like you’re the only person in the room.

Jealous but funny about it. If a male model gets paired with you for a shoot, Jason will grumble, “You know I could wear that suit better, right?”

Says he doesn’t care about fashion but definitely critiques it. “They put you in that? Really? That’s what they think is high fashion?” (Meanwhile, he still owns a leather jacket he’s had since he was 17.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The low-key proud boyfriend. Tim doesn’t brag about you… unless someone else brings it up. Then it’s a full PowerPoint presentation: “Oh, you didn’t know she walked the Paris Fashion Week finale? Let me show you.”, “it’s not that serious Tim.”

Forgets how famous you are sometimes. He’s so focused on his work that when he accompanies you to an event, he’s always surprised when people scream your name. “Wow, they’re… really excited to see you, huh?”

Pretends to be chill but panics at your shoots. If you’re wearing something too revealing, Tim’s sitting in the corner like, “Does she really need to wear that? I mean, it’s fashion, I guess, but still…”

Shows up to all your shows with coffee. He knows your schedule can be brutal, so he always has your favorite drink ready and a warm smile. “Long day, huh? Here, you’ve earned this.”

Accidentally goes viral as your boyfriend. Someone snaps a picture of him holding your bag while you’re doing a fitting, and now he’s trending as “hot model’s mystery man.” Or “Drake Spotted With L/N?”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks modeling is beneath you. Not because he doesn’t support you, but because he genuinely thinks you’re too good for it. “Tt. Why waste your time parading around in someone else’s designs when you could rule the world instead?”

Still shows up to your shows like a proud dad. He won’t admit it, but he’s ridiculously proud of you. He’ll sit front row, arms crossed, looking annoyed until you walk out. Then his face softens, and he claps (but only once).

Hates everyone in the industry. Photographers, stylists, agents—he side-eyes them all. “Do they have to touch you so much?”

Quietly supportive in his own way. You come home exhausted, and he’s already brewed your favorite tea and laid out your comfiest pajamas. “You should rest. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

Keeps all your clippings. You find a scrapbook in his study filled with your covers, tear sheets, and event photos. When you ask him about it, he just mutters, “I didn’t want them getting lost.” And even keeps some fan letters that you keep or lost along the way.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks it’s “adorable.” Bruce can’t help but chuckle whenever you mention your modeling career. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?” But he’s not teasing he genuinely admires how passionate you are.

Surprisingly knowledgeable about fashion. He knows every major designer, can spot couture from a mile away, and will occasionally surprise you by saying things like, “That’s Galliano, isn’t it? From the ‘06 collection?”

Makes every event feel like a power couple moment. When you walk a red carpet together, it’s like the world collectively gasps. He keeps his hand on your back, whispers sweet nothings, and makes sure you’re the center of attention.

Defends your career to anyone who dares question it. Someone makes a snide remark about modeling being “shallow,” and Bruce immediately shuts them down with, “Actually, it’s an incredibly demanding profession that requires both discipline and skill. You should try it sometime.”

Buys your agency. You’re stressed about a bad contract or a difficult agent? Suddenly, Wayne Enterprises owns the company, and Bruce is like, “Problem solved. You can thank me later.”

➺ 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 | ♡

With how he fights and has that scar on his scary face, people would assume he's a mean and cold lover. One that forget your anniversary date and leave your messages on read. It was an offensive accusation to him, especially when it involves you.

Joker made sure to show everyone that you deserve everything in the world. Buying you things that would adore your pretty self, he didn’t care if he had to fight a extra match. As long you were happy and content with him, then Joker wouldn’t mind getting some bruises to see that sweet little smile on your face. Sure he doesn’t show it like those cheesy lovers on tv shows, but actions speak louder than words.

Whenever you two hold hands, He would make sure to press a kiss on the back of your hand before he had to let go. Silently telling you his love and affection towards you. Even though it’s a small and simple way of showing it, it still made your heart melt whenever he would do it. Joker remember the first time he did it, the two of you were walking to your place. Joker wanted to made sure you made it home safe from your job. Walking beside you like some bodyguard with that mean look that’s always on his face, while still holding your hand with such gentle care.

Once you made it home, you gave Joker your thanks and how you would see him tomorrow. His dull eyes staring down at you and nodding before bringing your hand up to his lips. Softly placing a kiss on your skin then letting go, telling you that he will pick you up in the morning. Not moving from his spot until you disappeared safely in your home, silently enjoying the bashful look on your cute face. Which played in his mind repeatedly, quietly vowing to himself to that he will be the one who will put that expression on your face every chance he gets.

So whoever thinks that Joker isn’t a good lover should come outside and catch these hands, because Joker will fight them and prove them wrong.

SFOPP LMAOOO

JUSTICE LEAGUE AS FRAT BOYS.

characters written about in this piece : bruce wayne, clark kent, barry allen, oliver queen, hal jordan

note : sexual content mentioned but by no means smut, and definitely some swearing,, it's just kind of cracky and humorous because rhat's all what we're here for, thanks for requesting ! and hope you enjoy

requested !

BRUCE WAYNE.

probably the most restrained out of everyone, and it has you wondering how he even got in the freaking fraternity. oh you'd be surprised. on the outside he's this calm, sorta brooding, quiet type,, like seeing him with the rest of these guys he totally doesn't fit in. BUT!!!! that IS THE ENTIRE RUSE !!!! it's all an act to get clunge. like you could never admit it, but he purposely goes to the campus library, waits around the romance section and then when he spots a cute girl he goes up with all these lines. "hey, sorry, do you think you could help me locate wuthering heights ?? i haven't been able to find it no matter where i look !!" and then the girl finds it and he's like oh will you go out with me for some coffee and then we all know what really happens. but he's gripping definitely, can get your attention as soon as he walks into a room, so the girl he was plotting on was probably already plotting on him. also unfortunately the type to go after girls all nice when they've just had a breakup,, "i'm so sorry, the guy who did this should die in a hole, want to come by mine tonight and we could watch some movies with takeout ?"

CLARK KENT.

everybody meets clark and can't imagine him being as bad as his frat brothers, and he's not, except he also is worse?? he's your token meathead, brain non existent frat boy, but gets it done just as effectively, if not better than everybody else. when he spends most of the 24 hours in his day at the gym, you'd wonder where he even gets the time to pick up girls, but then you're walking through thr frat house and it sounds like a pig is getting wrangled with those noises,, and then you're walking through the dorms and find one doorhandle with a pair of hot pink lace undies hanging off and you're like ahhh okay it's clark— hang on. because no one's ever actually seen him in action,, chatting up a girl i mean. say everyone's gone out to a club or a sports bar or something, he's with the guys the whole time but somehow by the time they get back to the frat he's rawdogging someone upstairs ??? (i think it's the muscles, they're a magnet) and he's definitely a member of the football team, got there on scholarship because he's a small town baby, and the quarterback or linebacker title is definitely something he flashes from time to time to attract the huzz

BARRY ALLEN.

okay just because i said it just now for clark's one it made me think,,, barry would SO use huzz unironically. like he's texting the gc "k abt 2 go back 2 frat w huzz i found in victoria secret" and yes he also does type like that. want to know what he's doing in victoria's secret ?? oh that's a secret i'll never tell xoxo gossip girl (he hangs out in the mall to locate fine shyt and then discreetly follows them into the stores until he talks to them, and because he's so charming they go back to the frat with him). but it's true, he does have some sort of effortless air about him, more of a boyish charm than the rest, but his tactic is more so blunt flattery than anything else. big a girl's ego nice, by saying how pretty she is — are you sure you're not wearing makeup ? you're so gorgeous i thought you must be born with eyelashes like that — and then let her take you back to her dorm so she can return the favour if you know what i'm getting at 💀

overall actually i think he's quite a nice guy, and not as overly exploitative as the others, but yk still likes to have a go because he wouldn't be in this fraternity for nothing. by no means is he the type to stop his friends from the way they behave, because, like i said, he's not here for nothing, but sometimes might make a comment if he thinks they've taken it too far with a girl (but then he'll just go and cheer her up after wink wink)

OLIVER QUEEN.

more likely to date someone than the rest of the guys, but that doesn't make him any better by far. he might be the worst of them actually, because he makes all these girls think they have a proper chance with this really cool charismatic guy (rizz lol) and then dumps them with that whole "it's not you it's me" after like two months of dating, and just goes on through his college life like that the cunt. he finds cute girls EVERYWHERE like literally everywhere. there was one time he brought a girl home after the first date, and then he went to go make them coffee in the communal kitchen, so everyone was asking where they met, and he deadass says ohh she was doing community service and she ditched it for this dick lol what can i say. if he had normal friends they might say what the fuck ollie, but then everyone asked where it was she was doing it so they can find some of her peers because she "was taking it nice" like lord... but then even she didn't last long, and it was actually her fault not his just getting bored. after a week she accused him of checking out another girl and pulled a hammer to his head, so obviously that was a situation he wanted to leave asap. most of the time ollie just chooses some really strange girls to date (even tho half the point is to just have sex but actually have a label to it), so he considers a lot just having simple one night stands never to see them again, or doing what hal does, but he can't seem to bring himself to have something completely temporary. even though all his relationships are.

HAL JORDAN.

literally THEE fucking fuck boy frat boy literally THEE worst nightmare you could ever think of. it's like hal has been in the game since the womb, like his calling in life was to be a frat boy and nothing more. he's such a cunt, like he knows exactly what to say to any girl to get in their pants you know it all the whole bizz. and he'll say anything. literally pretended for a whole semester to be gay once just to score. but his favourite past time has to be bar crawls on a friday night, except the goal isn't drinks at each bar, it's girls at each bar. literally carries an entire strip of condoms in his jeans pocket to rip one off in a time of need, which could be any time obviously for him. frat boy hal is definitely a fan of public stuff, likes the rush of the possibility of being caught (and oh noooo nooo pls don't find out how good i am in bed, well... in the back of an alley but you get what i meeeeaaaan). i think he's kind of like joey tribbiani, where it's like instead of how you doin he goes up like hey you alright ? to any living breathing thing with boobies, and somehow it always works, because he's got a collection of bras or panties in his drawers, which are like trophies for every body he scores.

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking) CHAPTER LIST

✓ COMPLETED

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official playlist!

You find yourself suddenly thrown into a universe where the silly characters in the comics you read are real, living people. Now, you have to find a way back home, so try not to get distracted by all the characters you had a crush on growing up, or the fact that you know far too much about pretty much everybody. (And definitely don't think about how this means your life is probably a comic book in another universe.)

(jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne, reader is a spider-man variant, read it on ao3)

1. we're not in kansas anymore

2. spidey luck (good or bad? you'll never know) 

3. debut 

4. way down we go 

5. good old-fashioned lover boy

6. make out fake out

7. inhibition (or lack there of)

8. connections

9. warmth

10. never wound what you can't kill

11. down came the rain and washed the spider out

12. picture perfect

13. back to our regularly schedule programming

14. please please please (let me get what i want)

15. and the world kept spinning

16. long awaited

17. home

18. the talk(s)

19. intertwined, sewn together

EPILOGUE: saturn