I'll ask after that secret number 8!
I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅
Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?
———
It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.
Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.
Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache.
It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were.
A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.
Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.
“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”
“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.
Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.
“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”
Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too?
It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!
He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—
“I’m Batman.”
The smile freezes on Danny’s face.
His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—
“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence.
Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.
“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”
It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How?
Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman.
Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…
A little over a year.
Just under 16 months since he escaped.
“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks
Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.
Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating.
“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.
Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?
"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"
"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.
"I don't understand, why..."
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"
"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"
It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.
But it was easier than this.
"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."
"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"
"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"
"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!
Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.
"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"
Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.
Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.
But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.
Before he...
He really thought this would be different, you know?
He wanted to make it official.
"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."
"Danny, we are a—"
"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please."
Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.
"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."
"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now. "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."
"Danny—"
"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"
"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."
Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.
He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!
The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?
Steph is chewing on her thumb.
Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.
He likes them all.
"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."
"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."
"But you work with them and—"
"Who do I work with?"
"The Justice League."
"Yes, I do, but we—"
"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."
Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.
"Kill me."
"Danny? What do—"
"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."
"Danny..."
"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."
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you were never the type of person to need someone to help you fall asleep before meeting rick and daryl.
not even as a kid did you need your parents to hold your hand to fall asleep. but now? after having two men warm your bed, you could hardly stand to sleep alone.
this became a problem whenever daryl got into one of his moods of wanting to be alone or even when he went on hunting trips. usually, it could be quelled by rick holding you and lavishing you with his attention at night but when they were both gone? you hated it.
you typically spent your nights without them tossing and turning, a hand between your legs trying to relieve yourself of the itch that only they could scratch.
it was all the same that night. after eating dinner with carl and judith,and getting the toddler to bed, you skulk over to your bedroom. ready to spend the night staring at the ceiling until boredom finally kicked in like a nyquil.
you’d told rick before how you missed him when he was out on runs or taking watch shifts. his solution? count sheep.
looking back, you wish you would’ve strangled him. sleeping wasn’t as easy as counting sheep. you should know; you were the one who typically dealt with judith’s sleep troubles after all. some nights the girl couldn’t go down without another story or another hug, or being rocked in your arms.
not even judith was keeping you up tonight. she’d fallen asleep easily after a day of playing outside and running around with carl. had you regressed so much that a toddler was sleeping better than you?
you think so as you pull back the covers, shifting into the empty bed. it was unnecessarily cold without your boys. they were out on a long scavenging trip - most trips turned out to be long nowadays with how depleted everything nearby was. you’d wanted to go with, but they always insisted that you needed to stay home and take care of the kids. great! you loved hanging with rick’s brood and you loved alexandria too but was it worth being without rick and daryl? debatable.
before attempting to close your eyes and count sheep, you pop a sleep supplement, summoning the bottle from your bedside table and downing a purple capsule. you weren't the first person in this house to have night terrors and you wouldn't be the last, so you guys opted to keep some sleep medicine in stock, just in case.
it still takes a few minutes of rolling around in the comforter to fall asleep. then, you're in a deep, dreamless sleep.
you don't hear them when they come in.
you're catching up on the much needed z's that you missed the past four sleepless nights when the bedroom door opens and two pairs of feet thud on the carpet. with their muddy boots and battered outside clothing discarded, the pair of men slip into bed beside your sleeping form.
as daryl curls into your side, he's disappointed that you're not awake to witness him tucking himself in beside you not smelling like blood, or guts, or the woods for once.
they'd showered at a cabin, which actually not too far from alexandria. the cabin was nestled into a hill and some dense woods between two white picket developments, left to the dead who inhabited it. he, rick, and tara had found some bodies - middle aged - in the basement in a panic room, and evidence of a small, long gone group of survivors. their abandoned shit scattered throughout the place was the win alexandria needed. these scavenging trips weren't always successful, especially with every fucker in a fifty mile radius selfish, cruel, or insane. it was rare they met decent folk. but at least after going hours out and finding jack, they could bring back enough MREs, preserves, and siphoned gas to have those needs off their minds for a while.
daryl's mind immediately wanders to you as he lays back on the satin sheets you'd picked out. you're splayed out in the middle of the bed with your arms wrapped around a round pillow. lips parted; you look peaceful in a way that makes daryl's dick twitch in his boxers.
rick's already leaning against you, a hard outline starting to form in the pajama pants he'd pulled on before jumping in bed. odd choice given how fast they usually came off. his arms are wrapped around you as he settles in for the night.
"so glad we're back," rick exhales into your rising and falling chest.
daryl nods from where he is.
"thought i was gonna combust."
you and me both. he thinks, but just stares at the ceiling, enjoying the soft bed and the feeling of you next to him.
it's not long before the bed is creaking and he knows rick is yanking you closer, whispering in your ear, asking, "you awake, doll?" you don't stir. rick shoots him a look that daryl obliges by sinking down between your legs to work them open, testing a finger lightly against your entrance.
while your leader peppers your chest with kisses and slowly tugs down your tank top, daryl presses his finger inside of you. he hisses. "she's tight after all this time, man."
rick chuckles against your collarbone. "course she is."
you're still asleep when another two fingers are added to your cunt and you're starting to turn on like a fountain. "god, she's gushin'," daryl observes with a hard on while he scissors his fingers in and out of you.
rick has your tank top laying somewhere on the floor to make way for his mouth on your tits, alternating between the two. how you're not awake? they'll never know. not until you wake up the next morning and tell them about the sleep supplement you took before you crashed.
the sheriff's mouth rampages across your chest and up along your pulse point, before working back to your breast. when you were awake, you loved the feeling of rick's mouth on you. you loved it when you were asleep too.
"remember how wet you were when you woke up?" rick whispered in your ear, one time when he had you snug in his arms before you fell asleep, reminding you how good you would feel the next morning after they fucked you through the night.
okay, it wasn't all night but enough to make you feel the stretch the next morning and get your mouth watering at the thought of them enjoying your sleeping cunt. to get distracted during the day thinking about what you'd be up to that night, while you were asleep.
you stir now, body slightly tensing at the feeling of arms around you and three fingers in your pussy. "what?" you murmur, barely quelling a yawn.
rick holds you tighter in his arms, meeting your eyes when you ask when they got in.
"not soon enough," daryl mutters as he detracts his fingers and starts to shed his boxers.
before you know it, rick's pajama pants are nowhere to be seen and you're sinking down on his thick cock. daryl's on your left before you know it and suddenly rick's facing you toward his friend. you're met with the sight of his dick, which you take eagerly into your mouth, pumping what you were too busy waking up right now to swallow with your hand.
"you're always so good for us when we get back, darlin'," rick commends you as you slowly rise up and down on his cock.
you nod, moaning all over daryl as rick's fingers cement into your hips and he drives into you. "oh," you gasp into the man in front of you. he thumbs your cheek while you fit more of him into your mouth, thrusting shallowly.
"i'm sure you’re gonna wanna wake up like this every night now, huh, doll?"
with him buried in your nerve wrought pussy and daryl almost down your throat now, all you can do is nod and hum a sweet garbled yes. it's gonna be a long night, but at least they're back.
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