Sweet But Psycho (Damian Wayne X Reader)

Chapter 9: Crime Fighting. Going Away....

A/N: This is the last chapter of "Sweet but Psycho", but don't worry there's going to be a sequel to this story. That I might take a very long time to publish? Yeah, because I just graduated and I'm going to start going to a university soon which means I'll be a lot busier than before. That I still took too long update this book recently? Yeah, I know. But it was also my Senior year which I put most of my focus on to enjoying my last year. But now that's summer I get to finally publish again, if I'm not busy with my family of course.

I want to thank every single one of you for reading this and I hope that when I publish the sequel that I see and hear, if you guys do comment, from y'all again. Don't forget to comment cause if I'm being honest when you guy comment not only does it bring me joy, but I can relate cause I'm most likely the same age as some of y'all and even if I wasn't you guys are the same generation as me meaning that majority of the time, we all relate.

Well, let's get on to the last chapter of "Sweet but Psycho"!

Enjoy mis corazones!

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(Y/N's POV)

The sound of my combat boots could be heard as I am chasing one of my father's goons, who I'm guessing they stole the last diamond needed for the plan my villainous father started around a year ago. But after the whole dilemma that happened many months ago, he must have put on pause. Until now... So here I am, chasing wait-...

Which goon is it?

That looks like Jared-

Not the time Y/N!

The goon in front of me jumps from one rooftop to another, thinking that I was not capable of doing the same thing. After a while of chasing, we end up in an alleyway, me cornering the goon. He turns around and I see that he's scanning my appearance.

I snap my fingers to gain his attention and once I do, I comment to him, "Hey! My eyes are up here, sicko!"

"Disappointing to see that the once princess clown of Gotham whom everyone fear is now a pathetic hero with the rat in wings!" He barks trying to get something from his pockets.

"Nice to see you too again, Jared! How much is he really paying you?"

He narrows his eyes at me, his hand moving from his pockets. "What do you mean?"

Exactly my point... Joker's thugs were never and still aren't the brightest.

I slowly start to walk up to him while saying, "You really think he's going to pay you enough for this work? Not even a decent amount."

His face darkened. He seemed to swell up. He exploded at me. Just lunched himself forward with his right arm cutting around in a giant roundhouse strike. I sidestepped his body and ducked under his arm and bounced up again and spun around.

The sound of something being dopped caught both of our attention.

That thing being the goon's gun. He stopped short on stiff legs and whipped back toward me. We had changed places. Now I was nearer to the gun than he was. He panicked and came at me again. Same move. His right arm swing.

I sidestepped and ducked, and we were back to where we started. But he was breathing a little heavier than I was. "You're a big girl's blouse." I spoke.

It was a term of abuse I had picked up somewhere. . . maybe one of those English TV shows Alfred watches. Who knows? I had no idea what it meant, but it worked really well with a certain fella in front of me. Once more he came at me, no hesitation whatsoever. Same exact move. This time I crashed an elbow into his side as I spun under his arm. He stood there, panting. I was warming up nicely. He was a very poor fighter. Lots of big guys are. They don't get much practice. They don't develop much finesse and they get out of shape.