except i actually do it right this time
and by that i mean it actually correlates to the song... kinda
im still gonna finish writing the original (maybe)
less decorative stuff cause ehem lazy
summary: You roam the ballroom of The Wayne Manor as an acquaintance to 'some random' politician... or attorney? You didn't really care. But, you did care about the man glaring at you from across the comically large room; son of Bruce Wayne: Damian Wayne. Aside from the fact that he's eating you up with his eyes, he intrigues you, but not half as much as you do him.
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."
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 not anything crazy but there is gonna be some sexual content so, again, mdni
im so so so slow at writing, sorry, love u guys
i accidentally wrote selina LMAO like father like son
summary: A back-and-forth with Damian. The both of pushing to find out each other's motives, neither of which willing to back down— at least in your own minds, little did either of you know, you had each other whipped and longing.
"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.
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
no use of y/n, intentional lowercase, reader has daddy issues bcuz ofc
i have everything planned out btw im not going with the flow՞߹ - ߹՞
ignore what i said in part 2 idk how business days work #unemployedfinalboss
thank u everyone for the love
likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡
dividers by: @uzmacchiato
six days leading up to your marriage
synopsis:
day 1: you start the day in the kitchen where damian is preparing himself coffee. he stands right where he did last night, memories of last night cloud your mind. he offers coffee, you decline because you have plans to meet the girls at a coffee shop before you start your hunt for the perfect wedding dress (with the occasional detour).
day 2: you begin to have doubts about your relationship status with damian. you're conflicted about your own sudden admiration. All of these thoughts you had to set aside because of a wayne gala in support of your upcoming marriage. you're both excited and terrified for your first wayne gala. 'is this how i'll feel on my wedding day?'
day 1: and for many more to come
as they said they would, cass was asleep on the couch next to your bed and steph somehow made it to the floor. youre sure she's comfortable though, almost all of the pillows and sheets also ended up on the floor, it might as well be the bed.
you dragged your feet across the room and stumbled down the stairs. cass and steph somehow made you feel comfortable enough that you didn't care too much about your current fresh-from-bed look. big messy hair, heavy eyelids, slight chapped lips and a sore throat; the reason you're going back into the kitchen. if it were up to you, you'd never step foot in there again after embarrassing yourself to both alfred and damian last night.
speak of the devil. you stood in the doorway where alfred caught the two of you. damian meanwhile, stood exactly where he was last night; his tired eyes still so beautiful gazing into yours while he had you trapped beneath him. where he called you his fiance with such intimacy you almost forgot this was but a contract to be followed.
"there's no need to stare, habibti."
you feel blood rush up to your cheeks as it did last night. "i-" you open your mouth only to let out a pathetic dry sound. you lost your voice, probably from yelling at the girls last night.
he finally turns his head to look at you. "mh?" you pointed to your throat. "lost your voice?" you nodded before rushing to the cupboard to grab a glass. you felt him burning holes into your back as you moved around the kitchen. that's when you came to your senses and realized you're still in the nightgown you were in last night. the red that just went away rushed back up. you kept your back facing him as to not look him in the eye.
"are you getting shy again?"
you could feel him grin. you wanted to run away screaming again but you lowered your head and sipped on your water quietly.
"i made coffee." you still didn't face him. "it's black. i can add sugar if you'd like?" you let out a cough before finally turning "No thank you." you whispered, voice still hoarse. "I'm having coffee with my friends today. we're gonna start looking for my dress now."
his smile slightly falters at your last sentence making you perk up. "all right." he says "well. i'll see you around." you watch him walk away with his mug. 'why doesn't he have alfred make his coffee?' you wonder.
"why the long face?"
you looked up to chelsea who asked. everyone had their eyes on you.
you met up with everyone in a cafe in the shopping district where all the high-end bridal shops resided.
"i had a conversation with mr. wayne this morning." you shrugged. steph leaned closer, "when you went downstairs before cass woke up?" by the time you came back up steph was already awake wondering where you went. "yeah. the conversation was going great until i mentioned that we'd be going out shopping for my dress today. he looked upset about it and left right after."
"yeah?" asked annabel
valerie looks dumbfounded, a bit more than everyone else. "why? does he not want you to spend his money? isn't he the one who decided that he'd be paying?" you shrugged again.
"no way" cass answered, "damian isn't one to be frugal. there's no way it's the money."
"i think only part of it is." you drifted your words off
"it's just- when he and i first met... i overheard him in a conversation with his mother. he said something about my family."
valerie tilted her hair. "and what he said is why you hated him so much?"
you turned your head, unable to meet her gaze.
"i don't like to think about it too much. not anymore at least. growing up i resented him so i was just a bit skeptical when the letter first arrived."
you fiddled with the arch of your coffee mug. "he doesn't seem too bad anymore. maybe he just likes me in a more casual sense?"
you lean closer to them, whispering like you were ashamed even thinking about it, "would i not be a good wife?"
valerie rolled her eyes. "i don't know why that concerns you so much. when has being a good wife ever been important to you? you've always been the boss of things, what's with being so domestic all of a sudden?" she spoke with an underlying irritation, probably directed to damian.
"ever since now. this is one of the only things my father left for me that isn't covered in whatever dirt or blood the rest of the business was when i first inherited. yes, slightly unethical but clean nonetheless."
"i don't know, i can still feel my father judging me from wherever he is now. i don't wanna disappoint my family name now that i'm about to lose it." you bit the inside of your cheek.
"hey," mitch chimes in "aren't we supposed to go wedding dress shopping? let's kill these bad vibes, huh?"
lilie lights up, "right! wedding dresses are a magical thing. serious conversations won't cut it."
you sigh, "i guess so." with a tired smile.
"this is going to be a really american wedding,
isn't it?"
you mumbled as you stared at yourself through the large floor to ceiling windows of the third bridal shop you've been to today.
you're draped in white, lace, and pearls. something about it makes you shudder in an indescribable longing.
"i never understood that either, wasn't he still an al ghul when the contract was made? i'd expect this to be at least somewhat traditional." anna says as she observes your figure.
"well, we are in america after all. and he's a wayne now. besides, how the wedding is supposed to happen was never mentioned in the contract. i'm pretty sure we aren't even meant to have one. just pen and paper."
"then why are you having one?"
"publicity," steph answers "bruce says it'd be good of it."
cass continues, "and can you imagine that? billionaire's son getting secretly married through just a contract? people would think you're some sort of political industry plant."
anna nods.
"yeah..." you said with your voice drifting off, you turn to face them.
"i kind of like it." you smiled sheepishly as you fumbled with the fabric of the dress.
lilie grins, "i knew it. you looked unbelievable the moment you walked out of the changing room."
valerie speaks in a quick whisper, "can i marry you instead?" earning a few teases and laughs from the others
you and the girls exchange a few more opinions before ultimately settling on the dress. when you went to pay it was set aside, to be prepared for your special day under a last name that was soon to change.
your group stepped out of the store with your coats on. a shiver comes from anna.
"gosh, it's so cold. why are you getting married so late into the year?"
you shrugged, "i think that's just gotham's weather. it'd be bad any time of the year."
"anyways, what do we do now?" says mitch. "it's still pretty early."
"i may have an idea." a stupid grin forms on lilie's face. everyone immediately understands but you stood alone as an opposer.
"we already did this cliché" you whined as they dragged you to the lingerie store.
"maybe this time you can leave the 'getting caught' cliché out."
day 2: the ways of the waynes
you somehow kicked cass and steph out your room and were able to sleep in peace last night.
they kept bickering you about the purchase they you made at the lingerie store.
you spent the night and the morning since you woke up wondering how married life would be with damian. though the two of you rarely interacted you seemed to have some chemistry?
would you still sleep in a separate room? would you celebrate anniversaries? would you be invited to family events? is there any more family for you to even meet? will kids ever be in the conversation?
you sigh before dragging your feet down the stairs once more.
and like the day restarted there he was in the kitchen, making his coffee.
"good morning." he spoke up, not needing to turn from the counter to see you.
"oh... good morning."
"i checked. you don't have anything planned today." he said before turning to you and handing you a cup of coffee.
you were taken aback but you took it anyways.
"thank you. and yes, i don't."
"father has been planning something."
you tilt your head "and that is?"
"a gala. we usually have one around this time of year but it may also serve as a sort of celebration for the upcoming wedding.
father says it'll be a good opportunity for you to meet close business partners."
"that actually sounds quite nice."
'a test run of sorts.' you think to yourself
"when is this?"
"in two nights."
"oh. so soon?"
"so is the wedding. this is a pre-party, not a post-party, after all."
"right..."
he steps out the kitchen without a goodbye.
why was that so tense? were all your worries coming true? have you just been delusional in the few times you've spoken to one another.
you have to tell valerie about this.
you stood still in the kitchen for a moment, hot mug in your hand. you look down.
'it's dark. black is how he had it yesterday as well.'
you hesitantly take a sip,
'oh. it's sweet.'
taglist:
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comment if u wanna be a tagged!
thanks for waiting guys-_- i really wanted to burn this shit i HATED it at the start
now that part 4 of american wedding is in the works i want you all to know that only a day after posting did i realize that no matter if you cry is the exact plot of day 4
