#akiwidarling

It was supposed to be your week with dad. Just the pair of you. Lois had taken Jon to Toronto to go see her Aunt Hilda, which made you very excited, as you get to have daddy-daughter time. Clark loves you, his only daughter and youngest child. Your everyrthing to him. He knows he hasn't spent much time with you lately but hes trying to! 100%! And he promised you, when Lois and Jon left for their 20 hour road trip, he would spend hours with you having quality time and fun. He even planned a beach trip for the pair of you! The sand, the sea, a nice picnic, watch the sunset, you know, the works.

So imagine your disappointment when he has to fly out of orbit, into space, to address a intergalactic threat. Out of all the times a threat comes, its when you, after maybe 8 months of barely any time with your dad, are alone with him and had a whole week of fun planned.

The transition of sunny, beautiful busy Metropolis to gloomy, dark Gotham is also adding to your disappointment and annoyance. Jon is in Toronto, enjoying himself, probably getting spoiled and cherrished by your mum, whilst your dad has practically left you with thr wolves. Specifically, one 18-year-old wolf with Spotify green eyes, black hair, and a look that could kill. A wolf who also happens to be your brothers best friend.

"Your being incredibly loud." A sharp voice hisses out from the shadows of the bat-cave. You dont turn around. You just sigh and continue eating your apple pie (courtesy of Alfred), still annoyed that your dad left. Your wearing a navy blue oversized hoodie that reaches a few cms under your waistline and has the iconic superman logo on it. Plus some denim jeans. Your back is still facing where the voice came from, as your sitting on an office chair. You spin around to watch Damian step out from behind the massive glowing screens of the Batcomputer. He was half-suit, having just stripped off his cape and cowl after a grueling crazy patrol. His dark hair was a sweaty, messy disaster (a fucking HOTTTT one sjsmsmmdhdosksyessir), and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest.

"Im eating, Damian. Im not even smacking my lips like a barbarian or anything. This cave just has a strong damn echo. And if its bothering you go sit by the big dinosaur thingy." You say, voice dripping with annoyance. You turn back around, not even caring to face his ass anymore.

"It is 3am and nobody, especially not a guest, should be entering the cave! You should be asleep!" Damian says as he grabs the chair and spins it around so your facing him. His green eyes lock onto your own eyes fiercely. "You snuck into here, eating an apple pie! We have rules, Kent. Your intolerable."

"You know what's actually intolerable? The fact that Jon is currently in Toronto, probably eating poutine and getting completely spoiled by my mum. He gets a vacation. My dad gets to punch aliens in the stratosphere. And I get dumped in a damp basement with an eighteen-year-old wolf who clearly doesn't know how to share his space."

You gesture with your pie fork at the giant cave around you. "I was supposed to be on a beach right now, Damian. I had a picnic planned. Sunsets. Actual sunlight. Instead, I'm stuck with you."

The sharp and sarcastic retort you’re expecting from him doesn't come. Instead, Damian stops. His eyes scan your face, tracking the slight downturn of your lips, the genuine frustration in your shoulders and your pretty face. The arrogant assassin posture slowly drains out of him. He doesn't pull back, though. If anything, he leans a fraction of an inch closer, his voice dropping into that quiet, rough voice he uses rarely.

''Your father is a fool. The lanterm corps could've handled it. He is foolish to save a universe that already has other saviors and ignore you."

Your breath hitches and you pause. Gosh you feel your heart race faster. And all of a sudden...you see Damian in a new light. Those eyes...that jawline...his body...the way he looks at you. It drives you crazy all of a sudden.

Damian notices the shift. His eyes notice the sudden flush on your cheeks, the way your fingers grip the armrests of the chair just a little tighter. For a second, his breath hitches too. The tension between you stretches so thin it feels like it’s about to snap. Then, he clears his throat, abruptly straightening up and breaking the spell. He steps back, running a hand through his messy, damp hair, looking anywhere but at you. "It is late," he mutters, his voice sounding a little rougher than usual. "You should not be down here. The cave air is bad for your lungs."

"Right. Yeah. Lungs. Terrible for them, heh..," you blurt out, mentally kicking yourself for sounding like a total idiot. Where did your sarcasm go?!

Damian walks back over to his desk, grabbing his discarded cape. "Go upstairs. And make sure you get some rest." He pauses at the edge of the shadows, his profile looking entirely too cinematic in the dim light. "I will be... reviewing patrol footage. Do not stay up." With one last lingering glance, he slips away into the darker training decks of the cave, leaving you completely alone.

In a rush you go to grab your apple pie and sprint up the manor stairs. As soon as you get in your room you close the door, you flop in your bed. You groan bury your face into a silk pillow. A thought then hits you. One good thing can come out of this. Time with Damian. You blush harder as another 18+ thought reaches you and you shake your head. Because now? Your crushing over your brothers best friend.

4 days later...

Bruce, for all his tactical genius and world-saving detective skills, had the social awareness of a brick wall when it came to teenagers. Clearly feeling a sudden spike of billionaire guilt for leaving his best friend’s daughter trapped in his gloomy house, he had declared it "Movie Night." Which is how you found yourself sitting on a ridiculously plush velvet couch in the manor’s private home theater at eight in the evening.

The thought was sweet, actually. But what ruined it was the fact he chose a old black and white 3 hour film based on architecture. And to make it worse? Je passed out to sleep only 10 minutes into the movie, slumped on the lounge chair across from you. Hes knocked out.

Which left you.

And Damian.

Sitting on the exact same couch in total, suffocating silence.

Ever since last night in the cave, your brain had been running a non stop marathon. You couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, or his jawline, or the roughness of his voice. You had spent the whole day avoiding him, but now, you were trapped. Damian was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, his long legs crossed, staring rigidly at the screen. He was wearing black sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. No armor. No weapons. Just him looking devastatingly casual and too attractive for your peace of mind.

You shivered subconsciously, as the room is freezing cold. Your wearing a jersey with a white singlet underneath and a pair of shorts. Of course your gonna be somewhat cold. You didnt anticipate it would be this damn freezing.

Without a word, or even looking away from the screen, Damian reached for a thick blanket resting on the back of the sofa. He unrolled it and tossed it over your lap."Thanks," you mumbled, reaching down to adjust it.At the exact same moment, Damian reached down to tuck the edge in. Your hands brushed under the fabric.It was a split-second touch, skin-on-skin, but your heart literally leaped into your throat.

You flinched back like you’d been zapped by Livewire, your face instantly exploding into a furious, burning blush.

Damian froze. He slowly turned his head, his sharp green eyes locking onto your flustered face. In the dim, flickering gray light of the documentary, his gaze felt heavier than usual. He tracked the way your chest was rising and falling, your complete lack of your usual snappy composure.

You desperately needed a defense mechanism. You needed to be sarcastic.

"Uh," you cleared your throat, your voice cracking horribly on the first syllable. You internally screamed. "Great movie, right? Really gripping stuff about... bricks. And arches. Honestly couldnt love it more. Better than titanic thats for sure. Hah."

Damian didn't break eye contact. A slow, incredibly faint smirk began to tug at the corner of his lips—a look of pure, dark amusement. He leaned sideways, resting his arm on the back of the couch and shifting his weight closer to you. The distance between you vanished. "You are not watching the bricks," he murmured, his voice dropping into that quiet, dangerous baritone. He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer, his eyes dropping to your lips before flicking back up.

"Are you nervous, Kent?"

Your breath hitched. You glanced desperately at Bruce’s snoring form, then back to the beautiful, arrogant boy practically looming over you. "Me? Nervous around a guy who wears a cape and reeks of sweat and books? My brother's best friend? Never." you whispered back, trying to regain your footing, but your racing pulse was entirely betraying you. Damian’s smirk widened just a fraction, his hand sliding under the blanket to find yours again. This time, he didn't let go. He leans in closer and whispers, "You know, for a Kent...your tolerable."

You swear butterflies are running around in your stomach right now. You bite your bottom lip, a nervous habit, and lean a bit closer to him. Embarrassment and nervousness fades away into something else. You dont know what exactly. "From anyone else id be offended. But from you?? I take it as a compliment. I mean id take anything from you as a compliment." And as fast as the embarrassment went, it came back as you slipped that last sentence out. He doesnt tease you. He grins. And before you can react?

His lips crash against yours. Its not rushed. Not rough. Its soft. Passionate yet sweet. Your eyes widen and your body stiffened...before relaxing and kissing back. After a good few seconds, you pull away and blush. "Wh...I...uh...what...wha...just happened..." yiu stammers out. This man has you whipped.

"You dont know how long I've wanted to do that for. Years, Hayati. Years. All these years of being quiet and I...I couldn't anymore. I love you. I do. You make me soft. You make me want to start smiling and laughing around everyone with all of the small things that you do. I really love you."

Your heart races and you cant even mister up a reply. You try but all that comes out is a whimper and a soft 'mmmh'. You flush up and he chuckles. He leans in and kisses your forehead. You snap out of it and kiss him back, yet again, all embarrassment and shock gone. And just like that your under the blanket, muffling the noises of wet sloppy kisses and whimpers and words of love.

The rest of the days fly too fast for both of your liking. And before you know it its time to go. You and Damian are now a couple basically. Not that Damian ir you would tell anyone out loud anyways. He grabs your bags and walks outside with you as he sees Clark get out of his pickup truck and thank Bruce.

"Hayati make sure you have everything and text me as soon as you exit the manor gates. He zips your bag up tightly and you share a final kiss. As you both exit the manor, Clark runs to you and picks you up and hugs you. "Sweetheart I missed you! Im so so so sorry we couldnt have our time together honestly I will make this up to you–" you cut him off with a soft laugh and squirm out of his arms.

"Dad its fine. Im okay. I had a surprisingly good time. Heh." You thank Bruce and Alfred as you get into the backseat of the pickup truck. Dick, Jason and Tim walk out too as you drive off. You cant help but feel a sudden pang of sadness at having to leave your new boyfriend. But at the same time you know you will see him again.

"Hey. We have a day left for just us. Dont think we can do the beach, but we can have daddy daughter activities at home!" Clark says proudly, to which you smile at.

Because in the end, you do get time with your dad. And a week at the manor has given you something you hope to cherrish forever. Damian Wayne.

"I do not understand why we must stay here at this mere child's park. I am far too superior to be swinging on monkey bars or slipping down children's slides." Damian hisses out as he sits stifly on the park bench with Jason. The sky is bright and blue and beautiful— something thats never occurred in Gotham before. So taking advantage of the weather, Bruce sent Damian out to go to the park and soak the sun up...and make a few friends too, perhaps. But unfortunately for Damian AND Jason, Damian needs a chaperone. So here Jason is.

Damian let out a sharp grunt and crossed his arms tight against his chest, radiating pure fury. "Hey, at least they have an ice cream truck," Jason mutters, trying to salvage the afternoon. "Want one? I can go grab it. My treat."

Another grunt. Jason rolled his eyes, knowing that was Damian’s stoic and stubborn version of a 'yes.' "Well? What flavor. Strawberry swirl, berry ripple, tutti frutti?" Damian looks at him like hes crazy. "Tutti frutti?! Berry ripple?! Strawberry swirl?! Those are baby flavors and I am NOT a baby. I will have a pistachio...............thanks." he grunts the last part out and Jason rolls his eyes but chooses not to reply.

He gets off the bench and walks towards the brightly painted ice cream truck parked by the curb. Luckily there wasn't a big cue or line. Thats a big win.

"Hi, yeah. Can I get one pistachio and one double chocolate, please? Thanks," Jason said, flashing a quick smile at the ice cream man. A few minutes later, the man handed over the two dripping cones. Jason paid, took the creamy goodness, and turned around to head back to the bench where Damian was already buried in a book.

When he hears a child screaming like they've been stabbed and betrayed. He turns around, only to see an adorable little girl with big doe eyes, crying her heart out as she stares at the chocolate ice cream melting onto the concrete footpath.

"Oh nooo, im sorry, Lana baby...mama doesnt have anymore cash on her and the vendor doesnt take card. Im sorry baby." You bend over, curves looking delicious in them jeans, and hold her close. Jason usually would've looked away by now but the moment he saw you he couldn't. Your...gorgeous, to say the least. And curvy. And hot. Thick.

He looked down at the pristine, delicious chocolate cone in his own hand, looked back at your crying daughter, and made a split-second decision. He walked over with a slow, casual stride and gently tapped your shoulder. Caught off guard, you spun around to face him, your eyes a little wide.

Lana tilts her head and looks at you for confirmation. You smile softly and that encourages her to shyly take it. "Thank chuu!" She says, tears gone now. She licks the ice cream like a little kitten. its so cute! He feels his heart melt by this one adorable toddler. Jason has never been one to like kids, but shes just so sweet and how can one not like her?

"omggg thank you so much. She loves her ice cream, honestly." You say with a small smile, FACING him with an expression of joy and gratitude. "Do you have venmo? I can send some money through now for the ice cream–"

Jason shakes his head and says, "No. Its fine. Seeing her stop crying is a good enough payment. Meltdowns at Parks can be BRUTAL." He runs a hand through his hair, trying his best to look hot and handsome. It works. You feel your heart beat a little faster.

"You have no idea," you let out a shy laugh, shifting the baby bag on your shoulder. "I'm [name] by the way. And this is Lana." As soon as she hears her name, Lana looks up and smiles with her cute tiny teeth. Its adorable.

"Jason," he replied. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and there was a sudden intense warmth in them that made your stomach do a tiny flip. Up closee, he was even more striking—broad-shouldered, rugged, with a cool white streak in his dark hair. "Nice to meet you. Do you guys come to this park often? I feel like I definitely would've remembered seeing you around."

You shake your head and put Lana down to stand. "No, actually, first time here. Our local park is under renovations so we thought we'd come here for a change, right Lana?" Lana looks up at Jason and opens her arms. "Peaseeeeee?" She says adorably, her tiny fists coming up under her chin as she stares with big doe eyes. Her arms open wide again and she hugs Jason's legs. "Oh, wow, uhm, sorry, I didnt know she was a hugger." You say jokingly as she pulls away. Jason is obviously a bit taken aback, but his expression goes very soft. "No problem, no problem. Shes a real sweetheart." Jason ruffles her hair before she waddles back and eats her ice cream on a bench.

"So....uhm...just you two o..or...?" Jason says awkwardly, not a hundred percent sure on how to ask if the dad is around, to which you smile gently and twll him, "Yes, just us most times. Uhm Lana sees her dad on Friday and Saturdays."

Jason lets out a small huff of relief, knowing your basically on the market still. Not for long, he thinks. Shifting so the ice cream in his hand doesnt melt, he opens his mouth to speak, but gets cut off when you speak up. "We better get going now, after her ice cream we go back home and lay her down for a nap. I mean id love to get your number or socials if your on any if thats fine with you." You say as you wipe Lana's mouth. Jason blinks, before grinning handsomely.

"Yeah yeah, uhm, no problem. Ill give you my number." He grabs your phone and types the number into your keypad before pulling away. "You both have a good day and I will possibly text you later?" You nod and say, "Definitely. Thanks again for the ice cream. Lana say bye?"

Lana waves bye, chocate over her cute cheeks and smudged on her hands. She waddle off with you and Jason can't help but feel a spark ignite within him. The air smells of roses, vanilla, goodness, love and ice cream. Specifically, Pistachio.

Wait.

Pistachio.

He looks down at the ice cream in his hands and swears, seeing all the pistachio basically gone. Great. There goes $4.50. He goes back to the ice cream van and gets another one for Damian. He cant believe he forgot about his little brother! Well, actually, he can believe it. But anyways— he approaches the bench where Damian is reading. "What took long, Todd." He says, not even looking up.

The sun sets, painting the sky in a beautiful canvas of vibrant pink and yellow hues. The crisp, clean scent of fresh rain still lingers in the air. The entire scene is breathtaking—something straight out of a painting, one could argue.Honestly, it would be much easier to enjoy if Wally wasn’t wrestling with a hundred different emotions right now.

The invitation in his pocket feels heavy—entirely too heavy. It is a sleek black envelope, adorned with a fancy stamp. An invite to a Wayne Gala, undoubtedly sent by his best friend, Dick Grayson. Under any other circumstance, he would go without a second thought.

But she will be there.

Her.

Dick’s sister. Batman’s daughter.

Shes the girl who has been haunting his thoughts 24/7. Her laugh. Her smile. The curve of her hips and those beautiful thighs. Her soft-looking skin. Her eyes, her nose—her everything. He thinks about the way she bursts into laughter at the dry jokes he tells, and how she adorably scrunches up her face out of habit. He even pictures the way her eyebrows knit together whenever she’s angry.

Honestly, absolutely anything she does, he adores.

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his ginger hair, knowing he was completely powerless against her pull. No matter how much his logical brain screamed at him that this was an incredibly dangerous mistake, his heart had already made up its mind. He simply couldn't bear the thought of someone else charming her when its HIS job.

With a mixture of dread and anticipation fluttering in his chest, he pulled out his phone before he could change his mind. His fingers moved in a blur across the screen as he types fast. “Count me in, boy wonder." he typed out, forcing a casual confidence he didn't actually feel. “Make sure you save me some of the expensive appetizers."

He sighs in relief and lays down...before adding:

"And a drink. Lots of drinks."

She is Dick’s sister. She is Batman’s daughter. Completely off-limits. No touching. No flirting. Nada," Wally repeats to himself like a mantra, chanting it inside his head over and over.

He steps into Wayne Manor looking effortlessly dashing in a tailored black tuxedo. Glancing around the grand room, he takes in the sea of wealthy elites and elderly socialites.

Uninterested in the high society small talk, he simply grabs an entire plate of appetizers and devours them in seconds."

You clean up nice, West," a familiar voice jokes.Wally turns to see Dick walking over, adjusting his bow tie with a grin.

"Hey, man. Thanks for the invite. Fancy place your dad’s got here," Wally says, setting the empty plate down with a sly, happy grin. He hasn’t seen Dick in a month, which feels like an eternity for best friends.

"Anytime. I'm just glad you could make it," Dick replies. He looks around the crowded room, his expression turning serious.

"Actually, can you do me a quick favor? Bruce is stuck talking to the mayor, and I need to handle a security glitch in the west wing. Can you find my sister? She was supposed to greet the board members ten minutes ago, but she vanished."

Wally’s throat goes completely dry.

Great. Just great.

"Uh. Sure. Yeah, I can look for her," Wally stammers out."

You're a lifesaver. I owe you one, dude," Dick says, already running off to fix the glitch.

Wally walked away from the ballroom, his super-hearing picking up the quiet rhythm of footsteps two floors above. He bypassed the main staircase and used a servant’s corridor, moving with a quiet precision that didn't require speed. He followed the sound to the dimly lit library on the third floor. He pushed the heavy oak doors open. The room smelled of old paper, leather, and her specific, delicious smelling perfume. Something sweet and flowery.

He stops in his tracks as he spots you. Eyes looking outside at the raining sky. Its gloomy and dark. Your wearing a gorgeous emerald green dress that makes you look too good to even exist.

"Soooo par-tay is downstairs princess!" Wally says playfully as he stands next to you. You dont react. Not straight away. Turning to face him, he feels his heart race a little quicker.

"I knew you'd come here. Heh. Oh wait. One more thing." You harshly stomp on his foot and cross your arms, to which he whines and holds his foot. "Thats for ghosting me for 3 weeks, Wallace!" You hiss at him, clearly bitter.

He whines and let's go of his foot. He scratches his neck sheepishly and says, "I was busy! Being a speedster comes with sacrifice. You gotta be prepared and what not. Gotta have the strength. And with great strength comes great responsibility— okay?"

You roll your eyes and sit on the red plush seat. "Whatever." And at that annoyed Whatever, Wally feels his heart melt. Guilt swirls up in his stomach, and he feels horrible. "Okay okay im sorry. I really am." He says.

Busy?" You counter, raising an eyebrow as you stepped into his personal space. "For three weeks, Wally? You're a speedster. You can literally text me back in a fraction of a millisecond." Wally opened his mouth to offer up another weak excuse, but the words died in his throat.

Up close, the faint scent of her floral perfume was completely overwhelming, scrambling his hyper-accelerated brain. He looked down at her, caught between the urge to back away into the safety of the shadows and the desperate, terrifying desire to pull her into his arms.

"I was trying to be responsible," he finally admitted, his playful demeanor completely cracking as his voice dropped to a quiet whisper. He looked away, focusing on the dark rain streaks pelting the windowpane. "I was trying to stay away. For your safety. For Dick's trust. For... everything."

Your expression softened slightly, your crossed arms dropping to the sides as you look at the sudden weight of exhaustion on his face. "Wally, I don't need you to protect me from yourself."

"You don't get it," he muttered, running a hand through his damp ginger hair as he paced a tight, frantic circle on the library rug. "If I let myself have what I want—if I let myself have you—everything changes. The second Dick finds out he will KILL me. Not to mention your dad whos FUCKING BRUCE WAYNE!"

Before you could answer, his super-hearing picked up the distinct, heavy click of the library's outer door handle twisting open down the hall.

"Someone's coming," Wally whispered, panic spiking his adrenaline. In a literal blink of an eye, he grabbed her hand, using a controlled burst of speed to pull both of them behind the massive oak privacy screen near the back bookshelves, holding his breath as the library doors swung wide open...

TBC!!!!

• he loves the absolute quietness of a Sunday morning with you. no arenas, no tribal chief vibes, no scripts. Just roman. He will wake up early just to make breakfast, moving around the kitchen with an impossibly soft, heavy footed quietness so he doesn’t disturb you. You’ll wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and find him sitting on the patio, patiently waiting for you with a second cup already poured.

• he loves sharing traditional Samoan food with you, when hes not dieting, that is (samoan food is very heavy). He has given you multiple foods, sapasui, oka, palusami and his all time favorite, pani keke. Its one of his love languages, surprisingly.

• he does all the heavy lifting around the house without you ever having to ask. grocery bags, moving furniture, opening stuck jars—he just takes initiative amd steps in and handles it. You turn around to grab your suitcases and travel bags just to find Roman carrying it effortlessly, not breaking a simple sweat. 'As long as your my woman you dont do anything'

• when he kisses you, its never rushed. Everything in his life is rushed, so with you? He takes his sweet precious time. Its almost as if he treats time with you as a blessing and luxury. His smooches are slow. Deep. Passionate. He holds the back of your head with one hand and the other always rests on your hip.

• he does this thing when he is exhausted. he wont say a single word, all he will do is sneak up behind you and hug you from behind, face buried in the crook of your neck. He always inhales your scent— something sweet and specifically you— and wraps those arms around your waist. It grounds him, the only source of comfort he gets is you.

🔞—NSFW—🔞

• he has a thing for sneaking up on you. You'd be cooking dinner, sliding the dish into the oven to cook. You feel his big hands peeling your shorts and panties down and he just feasts. His tongue slurps and licks up and down the curves of your ass, arms pining you down. He makes you cum within a few minutes, embarrassingly.

• he loves being a meanie and slapping his cock against your folds, sensing how needy you are. 'Poor baby, you wet? Hah?' He groans out, slapping his meat harder against your clit, making you squirm hard.

• he CHERRISHES your tits. He plucks your tits and tweaks them between his fingers and thumb, a little habit he has when hes horny. You could be brushing your teeth and he comes behind you, hands sneaking up your shirt, groping and tweaking and pinching. You know what it means.