ITOTIANI. damian wayne.
damian wayne x fem!jinx!reader
summary ; easiest way to fail a chemistry test. (not clickbait) words ; 5.2k warnings ; intimacy, makeout session, chemistry, teenagers sneaking into eachothers bedrooms. masterlist ; here
the thing about wayne manor was that it had entirely too many windows for a house that was supposed to keep secrets. not that you minded, scaling the side of a gothic mansion was exactly the kind of tuesday night activity that kept life interesting.
the shimmer in your veins made you faster, stronger, more graceful than you had any right to be, and the three-story climb to damian's bedroom window was barely a warm-up.
what you minded was the way your heart did stupid things every time you saw him through the glass, bent over his desk with that little furrow between his eyebrows that meant he was concentrating. The way his dark hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips moved slightly as he read, the way he looked so perfectly, frustratingly beautiful that it made your chest tight.
three soft taps on the window. your signal.
he looked up, and even from outside you could see the way his expression shifted, annoyance melting into something warmer, more complicated. he crossed to the window and opened it quietly, stepping aside to let you climb through with practiced ease.
"you're late," he said, but there was no real heat in it.
"traffic," you replied, which was a lie. you'd fallen off the balcony ledge, 10 minutes ago while watching him study. "miss me?"
"desperately," he said dryly, but his eyes were soft as they tracked over your face, cataloguing details like he was memorizing you. "ready for tomorrow's test?"
you made a noncommittal sound and flopped onto his bed, your chipped pink and blue nails drumming against your thighs. His room was exactly what you'd expect from damian wayne, meticulously organized, expensive everything, and decorated in shades of black and gold. the only thing out of place was you, sprawled across his pristine comforter in crazy short shorts, a staple in your closet despite the weather and a long sleeve that had seen better days.
"that's not an answer, and your gonna catch a cold if you keep dressing like that" he said, settling back at his desk. his chemistry textbook was open to a page covered in molecular diagrams that looked like abstract art.
"i don't need to study," you said, which was true. chemistry was easy when you'd been your father's test subject for most of your childhood. hard to forget the periodic table when it was literally running through your veins. "the test is on chemical bonds, right? ionic, covalent, metallic. child's play."
"for you, maybe." he picked up his pen and went back to his notes, the picture of academic dedication. "some of us didn't get a head start courtesy of illegal human experimentation."
You winced. "tough crowd. but i get you need to study. so i can go—"
"don't." the word came out sharper than he'd probably intended, and he softened it with a glance in your direction. "stay. just... let me focus for a few hours. Please."
you studied his profile, the way the lamplight caught the sharp angle of his cheekbone, the determined set of his jaw. damian wayne, heir to a business empire and a vigilante legacy, worried about a high school chemistry test. it would have been endearing if it wasn't so ridiculous.
"you know you're going to ace this, right?" you said. "you're like, disgustingly smart."
"not as smart as you."
"different kinds of smart. you actually work for your grades. i just... absorb information and regurgitate it."
he looked up from his textbook, really looked at you, and there was something in his green eyes that made your stomach flip. "is that what you think? that intelligence doesn't count if it comes naturally?"
"i think intelligence doesn't count if it comes from being injected with experimental chemicals as a child," you said, aiming for light but landing somewhere closer to bitter.
"that's not—" he started to argue, then seemed to think better of it. instead, he just shook his head and went back to his notes. "i need to study."
"right. sorry." you settled back against his pillows, pulling out your phone to give yourself something to do that wasn't staring at him. but it was hard to focus on social media when he was right there, all sharp focus and quiet intensity, pen moving across paper in sure, confident strokes.
gosh, you had it bad.
five minutes passed. ten. the silence stretched between you, comfortable but charged, like the moment before a storm. you found yourself watching the way his shoulders moved under his black t-shirt, the way his long fingers gripped his pen, the way he occasionally pushed his hair back from his forehead in a gesture that was unconsciously graceful.
this was torture. sweet, exquisite torture.
"question," you said finally.
"mm?" he didn't look up from his book.
"what's the difference between ionic and covalent bonds?"
"ionic bonds form between metals and nonmetals through the transfer of electrons. covalent bonds form between nonmetals through the sharing of electrons." he recited the definition without hesitation, still focused on his notes.
"and which one is stronger?"
"it depends on the specific compounds, but generally covalent bonds are stronger within molecules, while ionic compounds have stronger intermolecular forces."
"smart boy," you murmured, and there was something in your tone that made him glance up sharply.
"are you... testing me?"
"maybe." you stretched, arching your back in a way that made your short ride up slightly. "i'm bored."
his eyes flicked to the strip of skin revealed by your movement, then back to your face. "read a book."
"don't want to."
"play a game on your phone."
"boring."
"then what do you want to do?"
the question hung in the air between you, loaded with possibility. because there were a lot of things you wanted to do, most of which involved getting him to stop looking at that damn textbook and start looking at you instead.
"i want to help you study," you said finally.
"you said you don't need to study."
"i don't. but you do. so let me help."
he set down his pen and turned to face you fully. "and how exactly do you propose to help?"
"well," you said, sliding off the bed and walking over to where he sat. "we could make it more interesting."
"interesting how?"
you perched on the edge of his desk, close enough that your knee brushed his arm. he went very still, but he didn't move away. "quiz me."
"you just said you don't need to study."
"humor me." you leaned forward slightly, just enough that he'd be able to smell your perfume, vanilla and cherries. "ask me something difficult."
he stared at you for a long moment, and you could practically see the internal war playing out behind his green eyes. finally, he picked up his textbook. "fine. what's the molecular geometry of sulfur hexafluoride?"
"octahedral," you said immediately. "next."
"what's the bond angle in a tetrahedral molecule?"
"109.5 degrees." you swung your leg, the movement casual but calculated. "this is too easy, boy wonder. give me something challenging."
"explain the concept of hybridization."
"when atomic orbitals mix to form new hybrid orbitals that can overlap more effectively with orbitals of other atoms to form chemical bonds." you paused, tilting your head. "the number and type of hybrid orbitals formed depends on the number of electron domains around the central atom. SP3 hybridization gives tetrahedral geometry, SP2 gives trigonal planar, SP gives linear."
he blinked. "that was... very thorough."
"i told you chemistry was easy for me." you leaned back on your hands, the position pushing your chest forward slightly. "your turn."
"my turn for what?"
"i get to quiz you now."
"that's not how studying works."
"it's how this studying goes." you grinned at him, the expression sharp and playful. "come on, damian. live a little."
something flickered in his eyes at the use of his name. you didn't call him damian often, usually it was boy wonder, or wayne, or nothing at all. but when you did use his real name, it always got a reaction.
"fine," he said finally. "one question."
"what causes the shimmer effect in certain chemical reactions?"
he paused, pen halfway to his mouth. "that's not... that's not a standard chemistry question."
"No," you agreed. "It's a me question."
the silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken things. what makes you different from everyone else in ways that can't be explained by normal science?
"i don't know," he said quietly.
"wrong answer."
"ok, then enlighten me."
you slid off the desk and moved to stand behind his chair, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders. he tensed under your touch, but didn't pull away. "instability," you said softly, your lips close to his ear. "when the normal rules break down. when molecules can't decide what they want to be."
your fingers found the knots of tension in his shoulders and began to work at them, a slow, careful massage that made him exhale sharply. "that's not very scientific."
"science is overrated." you moved your hands lower, fingers trailing down his arms. "sometimes things just are what they are."
"and what are you?"
the question was barely a whisper, but it hit like a physical blow. Because it was the same question that kept you awake at night, the one that had no good answer. what were you? a failed experiment? a weapon? a girl trying to pretend she was normal?
"unpredictable," you said finally.
"i know."
"so why do you let me stay?"
he turned in his chair to face you, and suddenly you were standing between his knees, close enough to count his eyelashes. "because unpredictable doesn't mean disposable."
the words hit like a punch to the chest, unexpected and devastating. no one had ever suggested that being unpredictable could coexist with being wanted.
"we should study," he said, but he made no move to turn back to his book. instead, his hands came up to rest on your hips, thumbs brushing against the plain of exposed skin between your longsleeve and black shorts.
"should we?" you asked, your own hands coming up to frame his face.
"the test is tomorrow."
"you'll pass."
"you don't know that."
"i know you." you traced the sharp line of his cheekbone with one finger, marveling at the way his eyes fluttered closed at the contact. "you're brilliant and stubborn and you've probably memorized half that textbook already."
"only half?"
"the important half."
he laughed, a quiet sound that went straight to your chest. "you're very distracting."
"am i?" you stepped closer, until your thighs brushed against his knees. "i hadn't noticed."
"liar."
"prove it."
the challenge hung between you like a dare. because this was the game you played, push and pull, advance and retreat, testing boundaries that never seemed quite solid enough to trust.
"you're supposed to be helping me study," he said, but his grip on your hips tightened slightly.
"i am helping." you let your fingers trail down the side of his neck, feeling the way his pulse jumped under your touch. "i'm providing motivation."
"motivation?"
"positive reinforcement. basic behavioral psychology." your thumb found the hollow at the base of his throat and pressed gently. "every time you get a question right, you get a reward."
his breath hitched. "what kind of reward?"
instead of answering, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "that's for knowing the difference between ionic and covalent bonds."
you pulled back to gauge his reaction, taking in the way his pupils had dilated, the faint flush creeping up his neck. perfect.
"that's not fair," he said, but there was no real protest in his voice.
"life's not fair, boy wonder." you moved to perch on the arm of his chair, one leg on either side of his thighs. "besides, you seemed to enjoy it."
"i did not—" he cut himself off as you settled more fully onto his lap, your weight warm and solid against him. "this is not conducive to learning."
"isn't it? i think you'll find that emotional engagement improves memory retention." you reached for his textbook, flipping through the pages until you found a particularly complex diagram. "here. explain the difference between sigma and pi bonds."
he stared at the page, but you could tell he wasn't really seeing it. his attention was focused on other things, the way you were sitting on his lap, the way your dark blue hair had fallen forward to brush against his shoulder, the way your perfume was making it hard to concentrate on anything except the feel of you against him.
"sigma bonds," he said finally, his voice slightly strained, "are formed by the direct overlap of atomic orbitals. they're the first bonds to form between atoms."
"and pi bonds?"
"pi bonds are formed by the sideways overlap of p orbitals. they're weaker than sigma bonds and restrict rotation around the bond axis."
"very good." you leaned forward and kissed his cheek, letting your lips linger against his skin. "you're such a smart boy."
he made a sound that was half groan, half protest. "you're cheating."
"how am i cheating?"
"you're using... unfair advantages."
"such as?"
"you know exactly what such as."
you grinned and shifted slightly on his lap, pretending to get more comfortable but really just enjoying the way his hands tightened on your hips. "i have no idea what you're talking about. i'm just a concerned classmate helping you study."
"concerned classmates don't sit on each other's laps."
"don't they? how disappointing. and here i thought i was being helpful."
"you're being diabolical."
"thank you."
he shook his head, but there was fondness in the gesture. "ask me another question."
"bossy." but you flipped to another page, scanning for something appropriately challenging. "what's the relationship between bond length and bond strength?"
"generally speaking, shorter bonds are stronger bonds. triple bonds are shorter and stronger than double bonds, which are shorter and stronger than single bonds."
"and what determines bond polarity?"
"the difference in electronegativity between the bonded atoms. the greater the difference, the more polar the bond."
you rewarded him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, close enough to his lips that he turned his head slightly, trying to catch your mouth with his. but you pulled back at the last second, grinning at his frustrated expression.
"tease," he muttered.
"i prefer to think of it as motivation."
"i'm starting to think this isn't actually about studying."
"of course it's about studying. we're learning all sorts of things." you traced the collar of his t-shirt with one finger, letting your nail scrape lightly against his skin. "for instance, i'm learning that you make this adorable little sound when you're frustrated."
"i do not make adorable sounds."
"no? what do you call this?" You shifted again, deliberately this time, and he sucked in a sharp breath that was definitely adorable.
"that's not—that's just—" he seemed to realize that arguing was only making things worse and fell silent, fixing you with a look that was equal parts exasperated and fond.
"cat got your tongue, boy wonder?"
"you're impossible."
"but i'm helpful. look how much you've reviewed in the past ten minutes."
"we've covered maybe three concepts."
"quality over quantity." you reached for the textbook again, but he caught your wrist.
"enough," he said, and there was something in his voice that made your breath catch. "you win."
"win what?"
"whatever game you're playing. you win."
you tilted your head, studying his face. "i don't know what you mean."
"yes, you do." his thumb traced across the pulse point on your wrist, and you were pretty sure he could feel the way your heart rate had picked up. "you came here with absolutely no intention of studying, and you've spent the last fifteen minutes systematically destroying my ability to concentrate on anything except you."
"that's a very serious accusation."
"it's a very accurate accusation."
"and what are you going to do about it?"
the question was barely out of your mouth before he was moving, one hand tangling in your long hair while the other pulled you closer. when he kissed you, it was with the focused intensity he brought to everything else, thorough, determined, and completely overwhelming.
you melted into him, your hands fisting in his t-shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. this was what you'd been angling for all evening, this moment when his careful control finally snapped and he stopped treating you like you might break.
because you weren't fragile, despite what everyone seemed to think. You were dangerous, yes, and unstable, and probably not good for him in any traditional sense. but you weren't delicate. you were steel wrapped in silk, and you could take whatever he gave you.
when you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard. his hair was messed up from your fingers, and his lips were swollen from the kiss. he looked thoroughly debauched, and you hadn't even gotten started.
"feel better?" you asked, your voice slightly hoarse.
"much." he pulled you down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper. when he traced your bottom lip with his tongue, you opened for him immediately, letting him explore your mouth like he was memorizing it.
you could taste the mint from his toothpaste, could smell his cologne and something underneath that was just him. it was intoxicating in a way that had nothing to do with chemicals and everything to do with the boy currently making your brain short-circuit with just his mouth.
"we really should study," he said against your lips, but he made no move to stop kissing you.
"mm-hmm," you agreed, then nipped at his bottom lip in a way that made him groan. "very important. academic success and all that."
"exactly." his hands found the hem of your crop top, fingers tracing the edge of the fabric. "education is crucial."
"critical," you agreed, then gasped as his thumb brushed against a strip of bare skin just below your ribs.
"although," he said, his mouth moving to your neck, "i think we might be learning about a different kind of chemistry now."
"that was terrible," you laughed, but the sound turned into something else entirely as he found that sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.
"you're one to talk. you've been making chemistry puns all evening."
"have not."
"bond length and bond strength? really?"
"that was a legitimate academic question," you protested, then lost your train of thought completely as he sucked lightly at your pulse point.
"sure it was."
you were about to argue further when he shifted beneath you, his hands sliding up your sides to rest just below the curve of your breasts. the simple touch made you arch into him, seeking more contact, and he took advantage of the movement to trail kisses along your collarbone.
"damian," you breathed, and his name came out sounding like a prayer.
"yes?"
"the test tomorrow..."
"what about it?"
"you're going to fail if you don't study."
he pulled back to look at you, his green eyes dark with something that made your stomach flip. "are you actually worried about my academic performance right now?"
"maybe a little."
"well, don't be." his hands moved to frame your face, thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. "i'd rather fail a thousand tests than stop touching you right now."
the declaration was so unexpected, so unlike his usual careful control, that it knocked the breath right out of you. "you don't mean that."
"don't I?"
"you're damian wayne. you don't fail tests. you don't do anything halfway."
"you're right," he said, and there was something dangerous in his smile. "i don't."
before you could ask what he meant, he was kissing you again, and this time there was nothing careful or restrained about it. this was hunger, pure and simple, weeks of tension and wanting finally finding an outlet.
you kissed him back with equal intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you tried to get closer, closer, as close as physics would allow. the shimmer under your skin responded to your elevated emotions, making the air around you ripple with heat distortion, but for once you didn't care about control or consequences.
when he pulled back, you were both breathing hard again. his hair was completely wrecked now, and there was a flush creeping down his neck that you wanted to follow with your mouth.
"chemistry test," he said, but it came out sounding more like a question than a statement.
"what about it?"
"i should probably... study..."
"probably."
neither of you moved.
"this is your fault," he said finally.
"my fault? how is this my fault?"
"you climbed through my window wearing that outfit and proceeded to systematically destroy my self-control."
you glanced down at yourself, shorts, long sleeve, the same clothes you always wore. "this outfit?"
"that outfit," he confirmed. "and then you sat on my lap and kissed me and made it impossible to think about anything except how much i want you."
the confession made something warm unfurl in your chest. "You want me?" you teased.
"are you serious? i've wanted you since the day you blew up that beaker, on your first day."
"that was an accident."
"no, it wasn't."
you paused. "okay, it wasn't. but it got your attention."
"it got my attention," he agreed. "along with everyone else's. do you have any idea what it's like, watching you be brilliant and crazy and completely oblivious to the fact that half the school is terrified of you and the other half is in love with you?"
"i'm not oblivious."
"you're completely oblivious."
"and which half are you in?"
he stared at you for a long moment. "both."
the simple word hit like a physical blow. because he was right, you were terrifying. your powers made you unpredictable, dangerous, the kind of person that smart people stayed away from. but he was here anyway, looking at you like you were something precious instead of something to be contained.
"you shouldn't be," you said quietly.
"shouldn't be what? terrified or in love?"
"either. both." you traced the line of his jaw with one finger, marveling at the way he leaned into your touch. "i'm not safe, damian."
"i know."
"i could hurt you. accidentally or on purpose, when i lose control or when everything gets too loud. i could put you in danger just by being near you."
"i know."
"then why—"
"because," he interrupted, catching your hand and pressing it flat against his chest, over his heart, "you make me feel more alive than i've ever felt in my life. because when you look at me, you don't see a heir or a legacy or a disappointment. you just see me."
Your throat felt tight.
"because i'd rather have five minutes of crazy with you than a lifetime of safe with anyone else."
the declaration hung between you like a bridge, spanning all the reasons this was a bad idea and landing somewhere that felt dangerously like hope.
"the chemistry test," you said weakly.
"fuck the chemistry test."
the curse sounded strange coming from him, rough and desperate in a way that made your pulse race. "you don't mean that."
"i mean it." His hands found your face again, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. "i mean everything i just said."
"even the part about being in love with me?"
"especially that part."
and then he was kissing you again, and you were kissing him back, and somewhere in the back of your mind you thought that this was probably the most effective study session in the history of education. because you were definitely learning things, like the way he tasted, like the sound he made when you bit his lower lip, like the fact that his control wasn't nearly as absolute as he pretended.
when you finally broke apart, the chemistry textbook had somehow ended up on the floor, forgotten and irrelevant. tomorrow there would be a test, and consequences, and all the reasons this was complicated.
but tonight, there was just this: you and him and the kind of chemistry that couldn't be found in any textbook.
"so," you said, settling more comfortably in his lap, "want to quiz me on molecular orbital theory?"
he laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "i think we've covered enough chemistry for one evening."
"have we? because i'm pretty sure we've barely scratched the surface."
"is that so?"
"mm-hmm. we haven't even gotten to thermodynamics yet."
"and what would you teach me about thermodynamics?"
you grinned and leaned close, your lips brushing against his ear. "that some reactions are so exothermic, they're practically explosive."
his breath hitched. "that's not scientifically accurate."
"isn't it?"
"no, it's—" he cut himself off as you pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just below his ear. "it's... actually, that's a surprisingly apt metaphor."
"i thought you might appreciate it."
"you're going to be the death of me," he said, but there was fondness in his voice.
"probably," you agreed cheerfully. "but what a way to go."
"what a way to go." he whispered and shook his head, but he was smiling. "come here."
"i'm already here."
"closer."
"i don't think that's physically possible."
"we can try."
and you did try, losing yourselves in kisses and touches and the kind of chemistry that made atomic bonds look simple by comparison. the test tomorrow became a distant concern, overshadowed by more immediate and infinitely more interesting lessons.
when you finally came up for air, both of you were breathing hard, and the textbook on the floor seemed like a relic from another lifetime.
"okay," you said, your voice slightly breathless. "so studying is officially off the table?"
"officially," he confirmed, his hands still tangled in your long dark blue hair.
"so then what are we gonna do?"
he was quiet for a moment, his green eyes studying your face like he was trying to memorize it. then he stood up, carefully lifting you with him before setting you on your feet.
"dance with me," he said simply.
you blinked. "dance? here?"
"why not?"
"because we're in your bedroom. because there's no music. because you're damian wayne and i've never seen you dance in my life."
"then you're about to see something new." he pulled out his phone, scrolling through something before some soft spanish song began to fill the room. nothing too loud, the walls were thick, but not thick enough to risk waking alfred.
"you're serious," you said, but you were already smiling.
"completely serious." he held out his hand, and there was something almost vulnerable in the gesture. "dance with me."
you took his hand, letting him pull you into the center of the room. it was awkward at first, you'd never been the slow dancing type, and he moved with the careful precision of someone who'd been taught proper ballroom technique. but then you relaxed into it, letting him lead, your bodies finding a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the way you fit together.
"this is nice," you murmured against his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin.
"better than studying?"
"infinitely better than studying."
he spun you slowly, and you laughed as your hair fanned out around you. when he pulled you back against him, his hands settled on your lower back, warm through the thin fabric of your top.
"you know," you said, looking up at him, "i never figured you for a romantic."
"i'm full of surprises."
"apparently."
you swayed together in the dim light of his room, the rest of the world forgotten. tomorrow there would be a chemistry test, and you'd both probably ace it anyway.
tonight there was just this, soft music, gentle touches, and the kind of intimacy that couldn't be found in any textbook.
after all, some kinds of education couldn't be found in books.
@ scarsoncherryglass 2025 . reposts, likes, and comments are very appreciated!
tag list ; @senatorpadmeamidala, @nyxisnotok
note: I LOVE LOVE LOVE THEM, guys again the titles of each one shot i write are titles of songs this ones itotiani by chicano batman i fw this song heavily since childhood imagined they danced to this song
