ⶠMONSTER IN THE CLOSET!
synopsisââ :: â when you found out about their sick obsession and yet still want them. actually you think it's adorable.
includingââ ! â bruce wayne. dick grayson. jason todd. tim drake. damian wayne. â¶
contentsââ ! â fem reader. obsession. fluff? masterlist. english is not my first language. â¶
Bruce expects resistance.
What he doesn't expect is you sitting in his lap one evening, fingers lazily tracing the veins in his hand, while he realizes you've found the files.
The ones he never meant for you to see.
Years worth of observations.
A portrait of obsession built with detective work.
Enough information to make most people run.
Bruce is already preparing for the fallout.
Already rehearsing explanations.
"That's how much you think about me?"
Because you're supposed to be horrified.
As though somebody handed you a love letter.
Bruce feels something bloody crack inside his chest.
A pressure he's carried for years.
The certainty that if you saw all of himâ
Then you lean forward and kiss him.
And Bruce realizes he's looking at the only person who has ever seen the monster under the mask and smiled at it.
Not because you didn't recognize it.
Dick laughs when he's nervous.
So when you casually mention the fact that you've noticed him stalking you, memorizing everything about youâ
Waiting for the judgment.
"Dick, that's not normal."
Instead you tilt your head.
The smile falls right off his face.
Knows the way his attention follows you.
Knows the way his entire day rearranges itself around your existence.
Knows how embarrassing it is.
Then you reach over and touch his cheek.
"I like being your favorite thing."
And Dick looks at you like you've just rewritten the laws of physics.
Because nobody has ever said that before.
Nobody has ever looked at the most excessive parts of his love and wanted more.
The realization leaves him strangely vulnerable.
Like you've reached inside his chest and found every ugly, desperate piece he kept hidden.
And instead of recoilingâ
you gathered them carefully in your hands.
Jason is convinced you're going to leave.
Not because of something he did.
Because eventually everybody does.
So when you discover just how bad it's gotten, how much blood is on his hands, how many people he have killed just because they looked at youâ
how completely his world revolves around youâ
he's already bracing for impact.
Instead you start laughing.
Like you've discovered something adorable.
Jason immediately becomes suspicious.
The silence becomes unbearable.
"Do you know how fucked up it is?"
"Nobody has ever loved me this much before."
Jason genuinely doesn't know what to do.
His brain completely short-circuits.
Because you're looking at him like he's something precious.
And for someone who spent years believing the ugliest parts of himself made him unlovableâ
the feeling is almost painful.
Like thawing frozen flesh.
Like blood returning to a limb after being cut off.
And before he can stop himself, the tears start falling like leafs in autumn.
Tim never planned for you to find out.
The way his brain naturally reorganized itself around you.
The way every room became a place he'd shared with you.
The way every conversation somehow circled back to you.
The way he knew the cadence of your footsteps before he saw you.
The way he could tell your mood from a single text message.
The way he remembered things you forgot saying years ago.
His brain just... kept you.
Like a dragon sitting on a mountain of treasure.
Tim is sitting across from you waiting for the reaction.
Now you've seen the tangled wiring.
The places where affection grew teeth.
He hates how nervous he is.
You can still cut him open and rip his heart out.
You smile like you've just discovered something precious.
And suddenly Tim feels cold.
The kind of cold people feel before shock.
Because that's not right.
You aren't supposed to look happy.
"That's... honestly kind of adorable."
Because you've misunderstood.
You don't understand how bad it is.
You don't understand why he hide under your bed at night. Why he pick up your chewed gummies from trash. Why he steal your dirty panties andâ
And that's when something inside him goes still.
Because you do understand.
You understand all of it.
Like somebody handed you a gift.
Like you've discovered proof of something beautiful.
Because for years he's carried this certainty inside himself.
That if somebody ever looked directly into his headâ
they'd find something wrong.
Like an organ growing where it shouldn't.
Something people aren't supposed to have.
Then you reach across the table.
"You're my favorite creep."
The sentence enters his body like lightning.
For a second Tim feels stripped open.
Like his ribcage has been peeled apart.
Like every secret thing he's ever hidden is exposed.
And Tim realizes he's spent years preparing for rejection.
Acceptance was never part of the plan.
Acceptance is the thing that breaks him.
Because rejection confirms what he already believes.
And suddenly he doesn't know what to do with all that fear he's been carrying.
Because you're holding his leash now.
Like it isn't ugly at all.
Damian doesn't panic when you find out.
At the fact that now you know.
Because Damian has spent his entire life treating his feelings like an exposed artery.
Something enemies can use against him.
And you've just been handed a knife.
So naturally he's preparing to bleed.
The way his entire body tracks you unconsciously.
The way he knows where you are in a room without looking.
The way his attention snaps toward you instantly.
The way every protective instinct inside him becomes absurd around you.
And now you're looking at him.
Instead your eyes are shining.
Damian immediately narrows his eyes.
Like you've discovered a secret.
The word comes out sharper than intended.
"You're so fucking cute."
The word feels physically offensive.
Because there is absolutely nothing cute about this.
Nothing cute about how violence he is.
Nothing cute about how sick he is.
Nothing cute about how he have plan to chop your legs off if you ever try to leave him.
He's spent years trying to control it.
Trying to make himself normal.
And you're calling it cute.
That's the only explanation.
You love how possessive he is.
You want the entire ugly shape of it.
you're just as much insane as he is.
The realization hits Damian harder than any punch ever has.
Because suddenly the world stops making sense.
You are supposed to want less.
People spend their entire lives asking him to make himself smaller.
Looking directly at the deepest wound he has.
And instead of asking him to shrinkâ
you seem fascinated by it.
Like you've discovered a rare animal.
For a moment Damian genuinely cannot speak.
Because his entire life he's believed love was a transaction.
Something earned through perfection.
Then you ruin everything by loving him incorrectly.
By loving the wrong parts.
The parts he spent years trying to hide.
Brush your fingers against his jaw.
And something inside Damian gives way.
Like a locked door finally rotting off its hinges.
Like a starving animal realizing the hand reaching toward it isn't carrying a weapon.
For the first time in a very long time, Damian feels exposed.
Not because you've discovered him.
Because you've discovered him and still want him.
And somehow that's infinitely more terrifying.
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