Work Text:
This was supposed to be fun.
A bonding experience, if you will.
Some guys stole WayneTech prototypes and were trying to smuggle it out of the country by boat. They were a big group, sure, but definitely not professionals. They even got caught red handed by the CCTV footage of Wayne Enterprises, so definitely not your usual style, this kind of stuff was better to just leave with the Gotham PD.
Unfortunately for them, there was something they took that was of interest to Bruce Wayne, so your dear Uncle B decided to take the matter into his hands personally.
Well, not really his hands or personally, per se, since he was currently in Metropolis, so he delegated the task to his sons.
Infiltrate the warehouse. Disable the smuggling ring. Retrieve the stolen goods.
They were ecstatic at how simple and direct it was so they decided to turn it into a fun family trip, and invite you. Well, more or less, you're not really directly related, in technical terms you're their first cousin, once removed, but it's not like the Wayne family is very big, so you gotta stick together. Exactly because of this, and the fact that you don't see each other that often, made you accept their proposal even if they called you literally one hour ago, and explained to you the plan in the car.
While they were talking you were nodding excitedly. Sure, easy-peasy, 5 trained vigilates against amateur robbers. What could possibly go wrong?
But you’re a Wayne, you should’ve known better.
The night air is thick with the scent of rusted metal and salt air. Your heeled boots crunch softly against gravel as you silently move through the long shadows cast by piled shipping containers. For you, the docks are a great place to hide, your catsuit blends perfectly in the darkness.
Dick’s voice crackles in your comm, you touch it lightly, activating the microphone.
“Oleander, status?”
“North perimeter clear,” you whisper. “No movement.”
“Good. Red Robin, you’re up.” The chatter continues, but you tune it out, too focused on the task at hand. Just as you round a corner, you feel a shift in the air.
There’s someone here.
You stop right where you are, flexing your knees slightly in a loose fighting stance. You scan the area around you as your hands hover over the earpiece, ready to call the boys at the first sign of any strange movement.
The thing is, you just don’t expect to have someone right behind you.
You’re caught off guard when you feel gloved hands wrapping around your mouth and torso, yanking you into the shadows. You react instantly — elbow to the ribs, twist and pivot — every movement you learned to escape a situation like this flashes through your mind, but the grip doesn't bulge anything. It’s too strong. It’s too controlled.
And it’s actually too familiar to your taste.
The grip shifts, redirects, and suddenly you’re spun into a wall, breath caught in the middle of your throat and heart racing desperately.
“Easy, sweetheart.” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear, voice low and amused. “This way you’ll bruise me.”
Your heart misses a beat and you stop trashing against his grip. “Slade?”
“Attagirl.” Your whole face turns red.
But you have no time to dwell on it as he’s already dragging you deeper into an alley between two high piles of containers, out of sight of any prying eyes – and any patrol routes.
It's just then you actually take a look at him, oh god. Why did you do that for? You breath deeply, trying to pretend you have at least a semblance of self-control around him. He seems positively deadly in his armour, his single eye glinting with mischief, and by the tone of his voice alone you can imagine the way he’s smugly smirking at you under his mask.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you hiss as you shove him lightly in the chest, at the impact he loosen the grip on your forearms. “Same as you,” he says. “Intel led me here, these morons have been stealing things from people far more dangerous than Bruce Wayne. Still, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“It was a on spur of the moment thing—” He takes a step forward as you take a step back. “I'm not alone here, Slade.” That doesen't seem to stop him, he's getting so close you start to feel the heat radiating off him. The proximity is making you dizzy. “If they see you—”
“They won’t,” Slade says, backing you against the wall. “They’re too busy playing hero. You and I have… other priorities.”
You narrow your eyes and cross your arms against your chest protectively. “Yeah, like what?” Your voice waver slightly, Slade obviously notices and tilts his head, closing even more the distance between you two. If you looked up, even if just a bit, you're almost sure your lips would touch the cold metal of his mask.
He towers over you and tilts his head. “Like this.” You can sense the smirk in his voice, and suddenly he’s barging in your direction.
The fight is playful. You managed to dodge his jab, spinning around him and landing a kick to his thigh. The wall of a man doesn’t even flinch, he catches your wrist and pulls you in.
Well, he can be bigger, but you’re faster.
You slid between his legs, popping up behind him, with a grin you lunged at his face with your leg, Slade catches your ankle mid-kick. Using his grip as leverage you twist, flipping yourself onto his shoulders. “You’re getting slow,” you tease, hanging your torso upside down. “Must be the age.” He staggered, off-balance, and you dropped, landing in a crouch.
He laughs dryly “I’m just distracted,” he replies, stepping closer. “You’re wearing that suit.”
You roll your eyes, but can’t help the way your heart flutters and your face feels even hotter than before. “It’s tactical.”
“Yes, and it looks very good on you.”
You laugh breathlessly, not moving this time when he takes another step towards you. You drop your head back to look him in the eye, and involuntarily the corners of your mouth turn upwards.
“Woman, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He’s so close now your chest is almost touching his.
“I really hope not.” You look at him from behind your eyelashes.
Slade’s so fast you only hear the reverberating metallic sound of his mask hitting the ground, and he’s kissing you.
It’s reckless. Stupid. Dangerous. A mistake you’re repeating time and time again.
But you simply can’t help but to kiss back.
His hands are firm on your waist, and you hum when you feel the bruises blooming under his fingertips. Your hands find his collar, wanting to bring him closer than humanly possible.
When you’re separated you’re aware of how horrible of a decision it is to allow him even near you. Still, when you’re together again, It’s like your bodies were meant to be, with the way you mold around each other.
How can something so wrong, taste so good?
His thigh pushes between your legs and your back hits the cold wall of a container. You shudder at the contact and he uses that moment to slide his tongue inside your mouth. You feel his hands snaking around your back, already trying to find a zipper. “Easy there, tiger.” You lightly laugh against him as you feel his chest reverberate with a low purr. He hungrily smirks at you, his teeth look inhumanly sharp in the moonlight.
For a moment, the chaos of Gotham fades.
The feeling of him overpower all your senses.
That is, until your comm crackles.
“Oleander?” Tim’s voice. “We’ve picked up some movement near your location. You good?”
Your eyes widen as you freeze against him.
Slade pulls back without loosening his grip on you, lips brushing your ear, he whispers. “You’re not gonna answer that, sweetheart?”
You feel your face warm up while your hands tremble to reach for the comm. “Yeah. All good. Just a nightguard.” Slade nips at your neck and you push a squeal down your throat, you use your free hand to try to force him away by his forehead. “But I took care of him already.” Despite using your full force he only looks at you amusedly, “You did, did you?” he mouths.
Jason’s voice joins in. “It looked like a struggle. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, guys I just–” his sharp teeth sink in your skin and your vision flashes in white, you can’t help but yelp, accidentally ending the communication. “Slade, I swear, right now is not the time.”
You glare at Slade and try to shove him away, he slowly lets go of you, but still doesn’t loosen his grip on your waist. His face does something that resembles a pout and your voice softens a bit. “You need to go, okay?”
He only smiles at your request, his fingertips drawing patterns on your skin over your suit. “Slade.” You drag his name on your tongue, trying to make him understand how serious you are right now.
Your heart can't help but to flutter, he looks like he's fighting the urge to kiss you again.
How could he look so infuriatingly hot in a moment like this?
Distracted you don’t pay attention to the hurried sounds coming off your earpiece, until a loud shout of your name gets through. It’s only then you hear Dicks's voice, it's sharp and full of worry. “Everyone converge on Oleander’s location. Now.”
“Fuck.” You curse under your breath. “Slade, they’re coming—”
Too late.
Boots hit gravel. Capes flutter. Shadows move.
You barely have time to push Slade away from you before the whole family rounds the corner — Dick and Jason in the front, Tim and Damian flanking them. They look dangerous and ready to fight, you don't think they could look more dangerous. Still, as soon as they notice who’s by your side they change completely. Their already hard expression turn into stone, they look ready to kill. “Get away from her, you bastard.”
Slade, unbothered, adjusts his gloves. “Hello, boys.” A taunting smile starts to blossom on his face, his skin crinkling around his eyepatch.
Dick says softly towards you “Oleander, are you okay? We’re gonna get you out of this.”
It’s scary how his voice turns ice cold when he redirects his attention to the man beside you. “Back away from her.” You had never seen him this way before.
Jason tries to take a step forward, and immediately Slade’s hand shoot to the hilt of his weapon.
“Guys, really, everything is fine, I can explain–” But your protest is ignored, probably because of the six foot beast of a man that moves to shield you away from your cousins. “She’s not in danger.” Slade says slowly, something dark dripping from his words.
“Guys!” you angrily try again, only to be interrupted by Dick’s growl. “How can she not be in danger when you’re around her?” you notice how that specifically rubs Slade the wrong way, with the way a vein almost pops in his neck.
They all begin to grow restless as Slade starts to uncover the blade that rested on his back, in turn, Jason cocks his gun and Damian snarls, his teeth seemed to glow in the night.
Tim only narrows his eyes. “Let her go.”
This is getting ridiculous! Why is no one listening to you?
“Guys!” you yell, shoving yourself in front of Slade “For fuck’s sake…” Opening your arms trying to cage the man behind you, and at the same time to avoid your family killing him. “He’s telling the truth, okay? He’s not gonna hurt me.”
Dick looks at you like you grew a second head. “Why are you—”
Suddenly he notices your disheveled state, the way you seem out of breath and how your lips look red and swollen.
It’s too much for him.
For a moment, his face is blank, it looks like he short-circuited. You would probably have laughed, if you weren’t completely desperate.
“Oh shit—” he makes a disgusted face and looks away. “Eww, please— Let’s just go— .” Jason soon also notices what made Dick so disgusted, and barks out a laugh “I cannot believe this! You two were fucking making out!”.
“What?” Tim almost screams at you while Damian just keeps looking wide eyed at you and Slade. “You were making out with Slade? The Deathstroke?”
You lower your arms and it’s like your face is in flames. “Just don’t— fuck, just don’t tell your dad, alright?” Crossing your arms in a weak form of self-defence while a frown starts to form on your face. “Have you guys even— Like— Finished the mission, or something?”
Dick still trying to process the scene, scoffs. “No! We were actually too worried about you!” He vaguely gestures between you and Slade. “But clearly you were more than fine!” His words paired with Jason’s laughter makes you want to be swollen by the ground. “How long has this been going on for, anyways?” Jason asks, out of breath.
“Almost three months.” You whisper, risking to take a peak at Slade’s reaction but, unfortunately for you, he seems to be having the time of his life.
Dick makes a gagging sound at your response, while it only serves to fuel Jason’s fun even more.
“What do you mean you have been seeing Deathstroke for three months?” Damian yells. “Well I said almost, okay?” You state defensively.
Slade is smirking down at you, apparently reveling in your embarrassed state. “Shut up.” You mumble towards him pouting, his smile only widens at your reaction. You turn your head to the ground, trying to hide from him behind your hair. “I like when you're nervous.” Slade fixes a strand behind your ear and finally you notice the gaze he’s directing at you. “Oh my God— I want to rip my eyes out—” Dick stomps on the ground.
“Let’s just finish the job okay?” you say exasperated, “Whatever you say, sweetheart." Slade responds, reaching down to his mask that was still laying on the ground. Dick turns to him angrily “You’re not coming with us.”
“Dick, c’mon!” You roll your eyes. “Let’s just not make this more complicated than it already is.”
Dick eyes him suspiciously, then turns his scrutinizing look towards you. “You’re accountable for him if he stabs any of us.”
“I promise I’ll behave.” Slade flashes him a predatory smile before putting on his helmet. “Why do I find this hard to believe?” Dick hisses.
Tim turns towards him and points. “But he’s not going to the ‘after-party’ with us. It’s family only.”
“As long as I get to kill at least one of those idiots in the warehouse, I don’t mind.”
The McDonald’s lights at three A.M. are blinding, but you don’t seem to care as you devour your hamburger.
Everyone at the table is wearing some civilian spare clothes, normally this would make you scared to be recognized, but you all look so battered and bruised that anyone that even suggests you’re all Waynes would be considered completely crazy.
“You guys really promise that you’re not telling about my… Situation… To uncle Bruce, right?” you manage to say between bites.
“Since you were so kind to pay for our feast!” Jason says while loudly slurping his milkshake. “I’m trusting on you guys, if this gets out— I’ll know exactly who was responsible…” you eye all four of them, a silent threat brewing behind your eyes.
“Don’t worry. I prefer to drink bleach than relive any of those horrible moments…” Dick mutters, while Tim agrees, shaking his head positively not wanting to stop eating for even a second.
“Alright, alright… Oh— Can I get one of those?” you ask your younger cousin, already reaching for his french fries while wriggling your fingers. Damian huffs, angrily swatting your hand away. “Ouch! What was that for?” you gasped surprised at his behaviour, without wasting a second he hisses at you. “It’s what you get for fraternizing with the enemy!”
They all start laughing as a pout starts to form on your face.
“Yeah. Okay, I guess, fair enough…”