𝘮𝘢𝘷𝘷𝘪𝘤 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you're here to see... me?" You raise an eyebrow but you try to keep a sly demeanor with the tone of your voice being teasing.

"I believe that's what I said." He crossed in arms with no further elaboration.

"And how in the world was I able to catch the Damian Wayne's attention?" You closed the distance between the two of you. Now that you were closer he didn't seem all that angry, he gave off more of an 'intensely observant' look. The way he eyed your every move, every breath, every hesitation.

But, you were never all bark, no bite. For much too long you've been knee-deep into the vengeance for your parents. You wouldn't be here familiarizing yourself with such shallow personalities if it weren't for the pain and guilt these very people gifted to you in your youth. If not their childhoods, happiness, dignity, nor lives you could take, I'd be the one thing they valued most; wealth.

Even just little by little, it didn't even have to go to you. The scandals you'd conjure up have done more than enough to jeopardize their careers, bankrupting them in the long run.

"You're not like us." He states blankly as if it didn't just cause a vein to pop out of your forehead. "Yet you're here at our parties. You wear our clothes, drink our wine, and eat our food as if you are."

"Territorial much?" You forced a grin. You did everything in your will not to take his stupid gold watch and run off for the night.

"No, not at all. You're very much welcome in my home, habibi. Though I sense that you're not here simply to be here."

Number one, what the hell did you just call me? Number two, it's none of your damn business.

"I think you've drank too much tonight, Mr. Wayne." You lean in closer, whispering into his ear. In all the times you've invaded his space in this conversation he never recoiled, just stood still, watching. It irritated you, you felt as if he saw you as nothing but a novelty. A wild animal in a zoo.

"Actually, I'm yet to drink at all."

This time, he leans in closer to you, his structured and practiced voice flooding your mind, at first reminding you of the rage, instead it was a slow all-consuming bliss. Like a starless night-sky, an ocean of nowhere, a void of love, and a crashing wave of disgust. Everything in it sank and crumbled. That was Damian Wayne. And you held no fight against the whirlpool that he is, regardless of much of yourself you felt you were losing, you kept coming closer and closer.

"You intoxicate me just enough."

You held your breath, trying to disappear from the moment. You really should've took that watch and fled when you could.

"And I thought that it was about time I'd actually get a taste of you."

A silence falls between the two of you. You both stare from each other's peripheral vision unable to face one another completely, or maybe Damian just liked hovering over the crook of your neck. The heavy breathing and intense staring was disturbed by the loud whispers of a few women in the crowd and Damian's eyes darting towards them.

Without looking back at you Damian gestures you to follow him. "Let's finish this elsewhere?" He spoke it as a question but meant it as a statement, especially since he was already 5 feet away when he asked.

You were silent as you followed, it seemed almost surreal to you, like it was him who was intoxicating. You cursed yourself for the vulnerability. The fact that you're following him, the fact that you haven't said a word since, and the fact that everything he's assumed about you has been right.

You shake it off, well, try to. You say to yourself that you're taking this as an opportunity. What better connection than the heir of one of the first families of Gotham?

Thank goodness for this giant Manor, you were able to think it all through walking from the ballroom to... his bedroom?

"It's barely even been a date, Damian." You smirked. "We can catch up on those some other day." He grins back. Your breath gets caught in your words. There's no way he's serious, right?

"For now, let's skip to the good parts." He turns around and traps you between him and his door.

He is serious. He's serious and you're... fucking ecstatic. This is exactly what you wanted. To have this kind of relationship with him. This was gold for you, you're here with another man and Damian just brought you up to his bedroom in the middle of the gala. But if that's so, why the hell were so nervous at the same time?

"Really now, baby?" You pulled him closer by his tie. Damian grabs your thighs, almost by instinct, lifting you up and pressing your chests together.

"Damn it." He groans against the skin of you neck.

"I know naught about you, yet you've consumed every waking moment of my life since I've learned of you." He admitted in a whisper so quiet it seemed to have been meant to be but a thought.

"Is that so?" You tried to tease only for all efforts to be diminished by the shake within every breath.

"And for how long exactly have you been aware of me?" You trailed kisses down from his jaw to his collarbone as you removed his tie, unbuttoning only the first two buttons before resting your hands on his chest.

"Three months and 19 days. You've been unknowingly torturing me for three months and 19 days." He said in breathless gasps as he moves his hands father and father up your dress.

"Why? I want to understand you." In the fervency that he leaned into you he practically slammed your lips together, yet it was soft and dooming like falling through the clouds and to your death.

"I wanna know everything about you. I wanna feel every part of you." He mumbled through aching panting.

"You talk as if I know the slightest thing about you."

"Then come to know me." He squeezed your thighs and pressed closer to you. Desperate for all contact and friction.

He casually invites you, he knows exactly what he wants, and so long as it gets him to it.

"Are you sure you didn't drink?" You chuckled as his lips moved down your chest.

"I already told you. It's you who I'm drunk off." He says as he lifts one hand to pull your dress down, leaving one to hold you up, as if it wasn't lightwork for him. "God, you're gorgeous, habibi."

You still don't know what that means. That didn't matter anymore though. You're now officially tangled up with the Waynes.

As the night went on he refused to let go of you. His hands and eyes were to be on you every single second. It's like he was memorizing every curve and bone in your body.

"You're quite the character, Damian." You said pushing back a moan.

"Speak for yourself" He chuckled as he quickened his pace and leaned in to whisper but he made sure your eyes were always connected, never letting you leave the void that first sucked you into his pleasures.

taglist: @jaydennicole @c1derf1sh @criminalstrawberry @clairedeselene @radheadphones @athy223-479 @itsnotjosefinaa @jaysonchan @vxllys (open!)

This series is a rewrite of this one! (unfinished as of posting this) i was too lazy to write smut heh, someday guys, someday

also... if any of you want....... maybeee...... you guyssssss..... coulddd..... send me...... requestststss..... i dunnnooooooo.... this is so freaking short... like all my other works🫠 also I'm watching The Pitt so i mightt start writing about that1??1?1

Despite the large and well ventilated ballroom, you still suffocate in the crowd of the filthy-rich and unbearable scum with their overwhelming colognes and perfumes that reek of their lies and sins. You here the clinking of glasses filled with wine, champagne, or whiskey from the top of a shelf higher than your head as you try to make yourself bigger and more confident in a crowd you need to fit into, just as you've learned throughout all your years of taking what they took from you in family, happiness, and youth back in their wealth and pride. The man you're supposedly accompanying already finished showing you off and is already entertaining himself with another young lady— probably married, just as he is. Scum indeed.

You would've been able to converse and mingle as you'd usually do if it weren't for the man staring- no, glaring at you from the sidelines, hiding in the shadows. If it were anyone else you wouldn't pay too much mind, but it's him. The infamously stoic and apathetic and handsome son of the equally infamous billionaire-playboy Bruce Wayne. You've been to quite a few of these Wayne-parties, though you've never seen him in person. Only in magazines and news articles.

The Damian Wayne is staring at you like you've just announced to everyone that you're here to kill him (and that he'd kill you first). How are you supposed to go on with the night without just one conversation?

You swallow your nerves and walk towards him with heels more expensive than your life, gifted by some other loser of the upperclass.

"Hi, noticed you looking, it was hard not too. You're Bruce's son, right?" you spoke lax and with as much class as you could find within yourself to at least seem like you belonged here just as everyone else. His glare refuses to falter as he speaks, "Apologizes. And yes, I am. Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne." He offers his hand, though not an elaboration on why exactly he was and still is glaring. You take his hand but as you were about to speak he interrupts, "There's no need to introduce yourself. I'm quite familiar with you." "Oh, how come?" You say as you pull your hand away and you swear that just for a moment he tried to pull it back. "Mr. Stroff isn't the first and certainly not the only man you've accompanied to one of my father's parties." "Is that so?" You said through gritted teeth. What does he care? He speaks like he understands why you do this in the first place. He seems just like everyone else, they may accept you into these events but you'll truly part of their class, you'll always be the impoverished, destitute, and pitiful little kid as you'd always been. They'll always look down on you, but Mr. Wayne here seems not too care about subtlety as everyone else. "Well, how can you be so sure? I never see you during parties like this." ",—And I'm sure you've been to a handful." You hold back a tsk. "I don't bother," he continues.

"It's usually a hassle for me."

"And tonight it's not?"

"No, not at all. Infact, it's proving to be very beneficial. I've just spoken to whom I came here for."

"And that is?"

"You."

taglist: @jaydennicole @c1derf1sh @criminalstrawberry @clairedeselene @radheadphones @athy223-479 @itsnotjosefinaa @jaysonchan @vxllys

to everyone on the taglist if u DONT wanna be tagged in this version of american wedding don't be shy🥹 and ofc if you to be added just say so aswell! (pls specify if you want to be on a specific one) HEY so im like so so back, missed u guys, this was supposed to only be a oneshot but i got too excited and want this out asap ahwhshs or maybe i should just leave it like this idk this is a rewrite! read the original (unfinished as of posting this) here or why not just check out my blog?

it's another long night for damian wayne. he's attending another of his father's galas filled with ignorant, incompetent, incomprehensible, rich people.

he walks in confident strides. everyone is watching, everyone always has been, he knows it.

on normal nights he would usually stay in the shadows away from the flashing lights and gleaming glasses of champagne, but tonight is no normal night.

you're here.

he knows you are, he made sure of it. you weren't a frequent party-goer either but you've always been much more interesting at them than he ever was which is why he wasn't so surprised when he saw your face amidst a large crowd, people listening in on whatever you had to say like you were a priest on sunday morning.

what did surprise him— actually, more like piss off, was the fact that one person was listening in a bit too closely. a supposed friend of his, jon kent, had his arm wrapped around your waist, looking at you annoyingly intently as you spoke.

he stepped in the crowd with ease, nobody dared to be in his away, especially not when he had that scowl on his face. You noticed him before he was even anywhere near the crowd, you turn to look at him with a knowing smile. Jon follows your gaze with the same look.

"long time no see, dami." jon says, offering his free hand.

damian ignores it. "the two of you seem much more acquainted than the last time i saw you two together." he says through his gritting teeth.

"well, we spend a lot more time together than you may think." you leaned your head against jon's arm knowing exactly what you were doing to damian.

"well, since the two of you spend so much time together i'm sure you wouldn't mind being separated for a moment. i'd like to talk to you alone."

"well—" before you could finish, damian had already pulled you out of the crowd and away from jon. he was never one to take no for an answer.

"uh, damian!" you sighed. "what?" he gritted his teeth as he continued to pull you to who knows where. you pulled back and the both of you stop.

"what?" he repeated. "why so hostile, damian?"

"what do you mean 'why so hostile'? you know exactly why." he turned around to face you.

"no, actually. i don't." "he had his hands all over you! you expect me to just let that happen?"

"yes, damian.

because you have no right otherwise."

a week before, you and damian found yourselves entangled in each other's arms on your bed. again. it wasn't anything special, that's what it was supposed to be. nothing special.

but you couldn't help yourself that night. the way he looked at you like you were the only other person in the world, his eyes shining like an emerald under a star filled night sky.

"i love you."

"what is that even supposed to mean?" he stepped closer, "you made it clear where i stand in your life. i'd prefer you stay out of mine." you crossed your arms in response. "you can't just-" he sighed and took a step back. "can't what, damian?"

"i've missed you, okay? and we both know i'm the reason you were so persistently invited here. you can't... i can't stand to see you with him— or anyone else for that matter. not when i've spent the whole week without you."

you shrugged, "you said it yourself, we're just 'nothing special', why are you so bothered?"

"that's not fair."

"it's very fair."

"hey! kind of rude to yank a lady out of a conversation like that, don't you think?" jon walks up to the both of you. you immediately grab his hand. "jon. maybe we should go back?" jon glanced at damian seemingly both seething with rage and speechless from his own bemusement.

the night went along with the tension, with every move and touch between you and jon there was damian, glaring watching from the sidelines.

the music started to slow and the air became heavy. you pulled jon onto the dancefloor. the two of you seemed to be in your own world, untouchable to everyone else as you both held each other, hips slowly swaying to the music. but, your drifting eyes couldn't be ignored.

damian also found himself on the dancefloor, hands on the hips of another woman, not seeming to care that much about her.

your eyes stay glued to each other.

'im so tired of playing'

every step and flip of the hair between the two of you is calculated, intentional, enticing.

'playing with this bow and arrow'

"you feel used every time you sleep with him so you've pivoted to eyefucking him instead?" jon grinned.

'gonna give my heart away. leave it to the other girls to play.'

"he seems to relate."

"him? feel used? after what he said to you?"

you sighed and finally looked away. you could feel that he didn't.

you and jon danced the rest of the song in silence, by the end the two of you had moved so close to each other your lips were barely even a breath away.

not for long as you felt yourself being pulled away once more. you could recognize the feeling of those hands around your wrists any day.

"damian."

you called out.

"damian!"

the second time came out louder than you anticipated making a few people look in your direction.

"be quiet." he said with a heavy whisper.

"where are you-?" he brought you up the stairs, in front of the entire crowd. you could see the camera flashes from the corner of your eye.

damian was unfazed by the apparent upcoming scandal. this wasn't the first time he'd whisked you away during high profile events.

the soft sunlight that hits your face as you flutter your eyes open is anything but comforting. you're much too comfortable with this feeling, the warmth that envelopes your entire being from skin to soul. and it fills you with dread, an ache so beautiful you can never stop chasing it.

those same glowing emerald-colored eyes stared into yours.

"you break my heart."

if it's what it takes to keep you in my arms.

the last line is genius btw please ask why

i actually really like this...

edit: i take that back i hate this

originally made this so i could get out of a writing slump.

they're both stupid

part 4 of mavvi's playlist being released before 2 and 3 oops