#raywriting

Your girlfriend being the head of her company had its perks, she spoiled you, rotten, anything you even paid more than 5 seconds of attention to she'd buy it for you. Going abroad to sight see, spending time in beautiful villas and beaches. Driving you around in expensive cars with that clean smell. Dates in exclusive restaurants drinking wine you couldn't afford even if you worked for months. It was a lush lifestyle you never imagined until you bumped into the curious woman at your local cafe a few years ago.

However, her job also had its cons, specifically her need to travel from time to time. The job was demanding, having to go to different sites was one of them. It wasn't often but when it was it was for a few weeks at a time leaving you lonely in your shared bed, missing her comfort dearly.

The time difference wasn't much, leaving you a few hours ahead, and she called routinely in her evenings after countless meetings. Usually you'd talk about her day, useless staff not handling her instructions, or your day and how your part time job was going. Tonight however, you were missing one of her features in particular, her ability to make you feel good. You were craving her touch.

"it was an absolute nightmare, I kept telling him he needed to format the spreadsheets before printing them because of the pdf conversion but he just wasn't getting it."

Wanda's voice was smooth through the phone speaker, her subtle accent normally mesmerized you, but there was a slight hoarseness from how tired she was. The usually raspy tone she'd take with you when telling you to spread your legs or lay still.

Your thighs were mindlessly rubbing together, as you found yourself fidgeting to suppress the ache between your legs as your girlfriend spoke. You cleared your throat before attempting to respond.

"haven't you already explained that to him the last time you saw him?"

You listened to the slight groan from the other side, more lewd thoughts filtering into your mind and the idea of how she was usually under you when making that sort of noise.

"I did yeah,"

She took a sharp breath before continuing, you wanted to pay attention, but the throbbing was unbearable and the thought of Wanda next to you stroking your thighs wasn't leaving your head anytime soon.

You shuffled around, humming along to what Wanda was saying, focusing on removing your pyjama bottoms and panties.

"and he tried to argue that he hadn't had this issue before, but he absolutely did because I have told him so many times the graph gets cut off on the right hand side,"

Your focus was faulty, your hand gliding over your right breast slowly, pinching ever so gently over your nipple, all you could process was the cracking of her accent and the wetness spreading across the skin of your thighs.

You rolled your nipple a few times before placing your phone on speaker, onto your nightstand, tracing slow lines down your abdomen before your mound. You needed Wanda so badly, shutting your eyes imagining her hands on your skin.

You pick up specific words coming from Wanda's rant, "dumb" "choke" "so well" "for me" "go on", those few words usually used in a context of punishment or pleasure with you.

Your head was fuzzy, imagining Wanda's fingers gliding up your soaking folds, warm and sensitive from the neediness of the situation. You hummed in response to Wanda's sentences whenever she paused for more than two seconds.

"Are you okay?"

The question snapped you out of your trance for a moment, your fingers freezing, and you began composing yourself to answer,

"Yeah Wands," you were more breathless than you realised, "yeah just keep talking."

"okay darling, well," she paused to remember where she was, your fingers rising to rub tight circles on your clit, "after all of that she finally agreed that,"

Warm, you felt so warm, your chest rising quickly, your fingers moving faster, you weren't even aware of how heavy your breathing had gotten over the phone.

"Are you listening detka?"

Wanda's voice wasn't irritated, but rather low and curious, you began nodding before answering, gulping as you hummed in response not trusting your own words.

There was a few moments of silence before Wanda spoke again,

"let me hear how wet you are."

Your eyes rolled and you let out an audible whine at her words. Usually you'd be humiliated with how she knew what you were doing, embarrassed that you couldn't control yourself around her, but with how close you already were and how badly you needed her, you slid your fingers slowly into your pulsing hole before finding a rougher rhythm.

Wanda could hear your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, the wet sounds echoing through the phone. She reached for her own pyjamas, pulling them down before placing her phone on speaker matching you.

“Do you miss me that much sweetheart? Need my touch that badly?”

You whined down the line, your fingers moving faster inside yourself, you were nodding quickly, even though Wanda couldn't see, she knew you were, she knew you were answering like the good girl you were. You could feel yourself throbbing around your digits, feeling slightly unsatisfied knowing it wasn't Wanda's slender fingers filling you up.

“Tell me, what would you want if I was there detka?”

You hummed softly, pulling your fingers from your pussy and onto your clit, making faster circles than before, needing a release.

“I.. I would want you to be rough, make sure I knew you still needed to touch my body, feel my pussy around your fingers.”

Wanda's hand found her own clit, groping her breast firmly as she breathed out, imaging you squirming beneath her, crying for anything,

“What about my strap hm? Would you want me to fill that pretty cunt of yours?”

Her voice was broken and your eyes rolled at the idea, suddenly feeling empty with just your hand to pleasure yourself. You cried out as you pushed two fingers back into yourself, curling them the same way Wanda would.

“Please, please I need your cock.”

Your voice was dripping with impatience and neediness, Wanda knew you were close, and the moans that were falling from your lips were pushing her faster to her own climax. She could imagine the way your pussy would throb around her strap, sucking her in deeper as you twitched in pleasure from such strong orgasms.

“I miss you so much.”

Wanda let out an unholy whine at your words, squeezing her eyes as she focused on the sounds of your fingers squelching in your heat. She felt the familiar coil in her abdomen, needing to let go of her pent up stress.

“You have no idea how badly I want to taste what's making all that noise.”

You bit your lip at your girlfriend's voice, breathless and whiney. Her voice was always so commanding and stable, right now it was anything but, shaking and cracking as she moaned through her words. Even the idea of how needy Wanda was to feel and taste you was enough to push you to the orgasm you were ready to beg for,

“Can I cum? Please can I cum? Please please?”

Wanda thought it was adorable how messy you were when begging, repeating words, struggling to finish a sentence, it was utterly adorable. She waited a few seconds, successfully catching up to you before answering,

“Come for me detka be a good girl for me.”

As soon as you heard Wanda's high pitch moan leave her lips, hearing the slight ruffle of the fabric on her end from how hard she was convulsing, your body finally snapped. A white hot rush spread across your body, your limbs locking as they shook erratically, your legs squeezing your hand and arm. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a cracked moan, falling limp immediately as your legs fell back open.

Your breaths synchronised, and you ran your fingers through your hair as you caught your breath, eyes remaining shut as you came down. Just as you were ready to apologise to Wanda for not listening to her rant, her quiet voice climbed through the speaker,

Damian has a playlist of songs that remind him of his siblings, parents, and allies (friends). He started collecting songs about his siblings when he came back to life, and after being told of Dick’s supposed death, and after Bruce forgotten him, he started playlists for everyone else. The songs on the playlists represents many things: the person, his relationship with that person, or a certain memory between him and that person it reminds him of- just anything. The playlists are a coping mechanism, a crutch that Damian leans on when the world becomes to much, when he can’t go find the people his missing and wants to see.

The playlists are secret, something he won’t—can’t show, because that means he cares, means he loves them, and that means they can be used against him, it means weakness. The playlists are what Damian can’t say to them, things that he wishes he could.

 So, when Tim breaks into Damian’s private computer network, sees the playlists and e-mails them to the others as a joke, Damian gets angry—no he gets furious, throwing things and becoming belligerent in a way no one has ever seen before. Tim knows he screwed the pooch hard. Luckily the boys were upstairs in the Manor and not in the Batcave when Damian found out Tim’s little espionage.

“You, idiotic fool! You always seem to stick your noses where you and it are not wanted! This was mine! And you think you can hack into it and share it without consequences?!?!” Damian's enraged screaming could be heard from the front door, where Alfred and Dick are, as Dick was picking up some new tech for a case in Bludhaven.

“Hey, what is going on, Alfie?” Dick asks, as Damian’s yelling continues on.

“This is the first I have heard from Tim all morning,” Alfred replies, then a heavy thump and the sound of something breakable shattering resounds through the house making Dick and Alfred jump.

“You, ingrate!” Damian shouts.

“I said I am sorry!” Tim responds.

“Calm down, Demon!” is-is that Jason trying to defuse a fight? Instead of instigate one?

“That does not make your consequences go away! Get back here!”

Next thing Dick knows is that he is on the second-floor landing- Alfred on the stairs, and Dick is running towards the fight, which so happens to be the library. Slamming the doors open, he sees Tim- his back on the floor and hands covering his face, Jason standing between the youngest vigilantes- tea cup shattered on the wooden floors, and Damian with his phone in one hand, the other hand clinched for a punch and his face twisted in a snarl. “What the— What is going on?! I entered through the front door and heard screaming,” Dick asks loudly, catching everyone’s attention.

“It was a joke—!” Tim begins, yelling.

“It was an invasion of privacy!” Damian cuts off, even louder, finger pointing at Tim.

“Hey! Both of you! Look at me!” Dick instructs, annoyance creeping into his tone. When the glaring match between the youngest two end he takes a deep breath- getting his annoyance under control again- and says, “Thank you. Now, lets sit down,” he gestures to the couch and loveseat, “Tim and Jason on the couch and Damian and I will sit on the other.”

Jason groans, “I didn’t do anything. Why do I have to be here?”

Dick can feel his temper flaring up but luckily Alfred takes over, “Master Jason, unless you want to get Master Bruce, I suggest you take a seat.”

Jason pales, causing Tim to let out a slight snicker, which Dick and Jason tosses him each a look for it. Damian huffs and sits on the cushion farthest from the couch, Dick sitting next to him, Tim and Jason making their way to the couch and Alfred getting Bruce, a rag, and a broom to clean the broken cup. When Bruce walks in and takes a seat on a leather chair, he asks, “What is going on?”

Damian and Tim speak at the same time, but Bruce cuts them off, “Jason, explain,” and at Dick’s pointed look, “please.”

Jason huffs and starts, “I was reading when Tim walked in, needing some help hacking into an unknown network. He thought it looked League related, next thing I know the demon is throwing open the door and looks livid,” he shoots Tim a look, “What case was it, again?”

All eyes on Tim as he speaks up, “I noticed an unknown network when I was working on the Batcomputer security. I thought—”

Bruce cuts him off, “And you didn’t tell anyone? Tim you know better than that.”

Tim, blushing in embarrassment, acknowledges, “I know, but you were working on Dick’s tech and I didn’t want to bother you if I could ask someone else. Anyway, I know that Jason has experience with the League computers, so I asked him. When Jason and I—,”

“Do not bring me into this. I only told you one thing,” Jason protests.

“When I actually hacked the darn thing, I went looking for anything I could find.”

Damian stands up, “And noticed it was my personal network!”

At Jason’s, Bruce’s, Dick’s, and Alfred’s shocked faces (with varying degrees of success of covering up said shock), Tim’s mortification grew exponentially.

But Damian was not finished, “Then you proceeded to look through my personal files, pictures, school work, e-mails, and other things! And you sent my private playlists to other people!” After speaking Damian runs out the door and slams the door close, anger rolling off him in waves, but Dick can see the embarrassment in the slight shaking of his hands reaching for the door.

“That’s messed up, Timothy. Thought you were raised better than that,” Jason drawls, making Tim clench his jaw.

“Shut up, Jason.”

Dick speaks up for the first time, “What about the shattered tea cup? And the loud thump?”

Jason grimaces and explains, “I dropped the cup when Dames raged in here, and Tim fell backwards off his chair. Sorry Alfred.”

Dick looks at Bruce, seeing him process all the information, and says, “This was not Damian’s fault.”

“He has an unregistered network and we could have avoided this whole thing,” Bruce shoots back.

Dick’s temper finally reaches its breaking point, “After becoming Batman, I gave Damian the network! The only reason it was not registered is because Tim does not have access to my Nightwing networks from here; consequently, Damian’s did not have a name! So, there, it’s my fault!”

Bruce did not raise his voice, but did ask, “Why did you give Damian a network?”

Dick did not have time for this. He had to find his brother; his little brother that felt violated because Tim couldn’t stop his curiosity. So, when he stood, he doled out, “We can discuss that later. Just know that Damian is not at fault and does not deserve to be punished. I’m going to find Damian and make sure he feels safe,” Dick then turns towards Tim, “and Damian deems himself ready, you are going to apologize to him for pilfering through and stealing his things, not to mention violating his network.” When Dick finished his piece, he rushes out, heading towards Damian’s room.

Reaching the door, he knocks, “Damian, it’s Dick. Can I come in?”

Muffled footfalls are coming from behind the door, and Damian asks, “Is there anyone with you?”

“No, but I was thinking- you can pack a bag, we could go to Bludhaven, and spend a couple of days there? Only if you want to.”

Damian opens the door slightly, “Will the others touch my things, if we go?”

Dick’s heart began to break at the question and look on his youngest brother’s face, “No, they won’t. You know how I know?” Damian gives a small shake of his head, “Alfie won’t let them, in fact, he won’t let them come near it if you ask- or if I ask. But we don’t even have to leave, if you don’t want. We can stay here and watch movies, I can play my guitar and you-your violin, we can play with Titus, wash Batcow. Just whatever you want, whatever makes you comfortable.”

Damian nods quickly to Dick’s words, “I- I wish to stay; but I do not want people in my room.”

“I understand, how about this. I go and grab my computer and we watch a movie? I’ll stay in the hall and you can watch from your room, okay?” Dick asks, taking a step back.

“Can Pennyworth make popcorn, my favorite kind?”

Dick smiles, “I think so, I’ll go ask. Pick up some soda too,” this draws a small, barely-there smile from Damian and Dick feels accomplishment rolling through him as he gathers his supplies. In the hall, he sees Alfred and calls out, “Hey Alf, do you think you can make Damian’s favorite popcorn? We are going to watch a movie.”

“Of course, Master Dick. I will bring it up shortly. Tell me, how is Master Damian doing?” the butler inquires.

Dick’s small smile drops slightly, “Not great. He doesn’t want to leave his room; he is afraid someone will touch or grab his things. I’m going to put Hercules on my laptop, place it and myself on the floor in the hall, and ride this out till he feels safer. I’ll be right back for the snacks.” After Alfred’s affirmation, Dick begins to walk to Damian’s room, the door is closed so Dick says loudly, “It’s just me, Dami. I’m going to set up the movie, collect the snacks from Alfred, then we can start. I’ll be right back,” he waits for Damian’s acknowledgement then heads to the kitchen.

On his way, Tim is walking towards his room, “Hey Tim, you good?” Dick asks.

“Yeah, I guess. I just don’t understand why Damian acted so volatile. I mean he has done it to me, but he didn’t get in trouble for it.”

“Of course, he did. You just didn’t see it. And for the strong reaction, think about it, Tim, he was raised by Talia. His every move was monitored and reported; he could not do anything without people knowing. Hell, he slept with the thought of being attacked running through his mind, so imagine the internet restriction he had- if he was allowed to go on the internet in the first place. But suddenly it’s a one-eighty, he can’t kill, but he can sleep knowing that he won’t be disturbed till morning. He needs his own space, his own area where he knows no one will touch, in the real world and online. So, when you not only hacked into his network, but stole things from him, it rocked his sense of security and safety. Its like you know that you are safe in your room in the Titan Tower, and suddenly one of your teammates goes through your closet, dresser, and under your bed, finds your photography and showing the whole team. That is what Damian is going through,” Dick explains the best he can, watching Tim- waiting for understanding, or guilt, cross his face. When Tim’s face scrunches up, Dick knows he understands, “Anyway wait till Damian leaves his room and you can apologize and assure him you won’t be doing it again.”

Tim nods, turns away, walking towards his room, while Dick collects the snacks from Alfred and returns to Damian’s hallway. “Okay, Little D, snacks are here. Ready for a movie?” Dick asks through the door, placing his tub and cup on the ground. The door opens a tiny bit, Damian looking through slit, pushes it open more and Dick can see a blanket pallet laid out on the floor in the doorway.

“I am permitting you to use my blankets and this much space, Grayson,” Damian says, arms crossed and red cheeked. Dick felt his heart swell at the sight of Damian trusting and caring enough to allow him in the room, let alone the blankets.

“Thanks, Little D. Is Hercules a good movie to start with?” Dick asks, taking off his shoes and situating on the pile of blankets.

“I suppose. Though it is nothing like the original tale.”

Dick grins at Damian’s rebuttal of said movie, “True, but it has one of the better soundtracks.”

“TT.”

When the movie ended Damian is lying next to Dick, resting his head on Dick’s arm and sleepily lets out a, “Grayson?”

“Yes, Dami?”

“I picked out one of those songs for your playlist.”

“Really? Which one?”

Damian snuggles a little closer to Dick, and Dick wraps his arm around the teen, “’Go the Distance’ but it was the original by Michael Bolton. The song reminds me how optimistic you are, it reminds me how patient you are. But most of all, it reminds me when you were Batman and how you have protected and cared for me. It makes me feel safe, when you are not here to do so.”

Dick’s eyes begin to tear up, but he blinks them back, to have put so much thought into these playlists… it shows Dick that he cares so much, “You know, I will always protect and care for you as best I can. And I won’t open it if you don’t want me to.”

“You can, it is just…”

Dick glances down, and sees the most precious sight: Damian dressed in the cotton Batman pajamas Dick bought as a joke, his head resting on Dick’s chest, and arm thrown around Dick’s waist.