The Ultimate Soulreach :[Damian Wayne x Reader]

Heavy Is The Head That's Soul-mated To A Wayne

Hi guys,

Hope you're all enjoying the Holidays! I felt bad about not posting a chapter last week, so I wanted to give you two this week. I will warn you all that this chapter is long and heavy. We're getting into messy emotions and even messier situations.

Disclaimer: There is referenced abuse, physical abuse, and emotional manipulation.

This is mature content, some things may be difficult to read.

Hope you all enjoy it!

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(Y/N) POV:

Jason was wrong. The paparazzi haven't lost interest in me yet, and it's been two weeks since we've Soulreached. Unfortunately, it took them no time at all to discover my home address, which they have been incessantly swarming ever since. As a result, I've been forced to get creative with my evasive maneuvers, which is why I am currently kneeling behind my neighbor's dumpster. Personally, I'm not a fan of being harassed by grown-ass men with Nikons, so for the past two weeks, I've asked Sam to park in an alleyway between my row of townhouses and the next. Luckily, the paparazzi are either too dumb or too lazy to do anything other than stand directly outside the front of my house, making it easy for me to use the same escape route each time.

Now, all I have to do is wait for Thing 1 and Thing 2 to turn their backs on me so I can make a mad dash across the neighbor's backyard and into the alley. With the hood of my raincoat pulled up over my head, I watch them aimlessly meander near my lawn - but never on it - shooting the breeze – as if they aren't about to make me late for school. Finally, tweedle dee and tweedle dum turn around to engage in what I presume is a mind-numbing conversation - which gives me the perfect opportunity to dash across the backyard and quickly into Sam's deliciously warm car.

Once in her car, I release a tense breath, sling my damp backpack onto the floor of her back seat, and pull the hood of my raincoat down. Buckling my seatbelt, I say,

"Floor it." Grinning, she obliges, practically smoking the tires as I'm thrown back against the heated passenger's seat.

"I have to admit, I'm kind of loving this whole James Bond sneaking around thing." She says with a wicked glint in her eye.

"Yeah, well, you're not the one squatting behind a dumpster in the pouring rain."

"That is true; yeah, I can't say I'm envious of that part."

"I'm sure when it stops raining, it'll be a lot harder for us. I'm just glad that most of them won't come out when it rains, not wanting to risk their oh-so-precious cameras," I say while rolling my eyes and shivering. The chill from my damp raincoat seeps into my bones, making my teeth chatter. Sam blissfully blasts the heat and pushes the vents towards me.

"You know you can just put the heat on if you're cold, right?" She asks, eying me gently.

"Yeah, I know; I just always feel weird fiddling with someone else's car. It's like just not something you do."

"I'm giving you permission to mess with my car whenever you want, just as long as you don't park us in the middle of a highway." Snorting, I smile and return to looking out the window. The rain is coming down in cold, fat pellets that are creating an illusion of being blanketed by misty light. I used to find my mood to reflect the gloomy atmosphere, but ever since I realized the rain can cloak my identity, I find myself ecstatic for the ambiguity it provides me.

Watching the city blur as Sam's car races down the streets of Gotham, I can't help but think about the past two weeks. Just like the paparazzi, students are still abuzz with gossip, and rumors are swirling about the status of our relationship - but luckily, with our unspoken agreement to ignore one another in school, those rumors are just that... rumors.