Domestic Chaos & More Stolen Shirts
Cassie was on a mission.
That mission?
Steal another one of Damian’s shirts.
Not because she needed to. But because it infuriated him in the funniest way possible—and because his shirts were big, soft, and smelled like him.
She had almost succeeded too—until she was caught red-handed.
"Cassiopeia."
Cassie froze mid-step, Damian’s shirt halfway over her head, as his unamused voice filled the room.
She slowly peeked over the fabric, her eyes meeting his judgmental green ones.
She blinked.
He blinked.
A standoff.
Cassie, unfazed, continued pulling the shirt on.
Damian crossed his arms. "You have your own clothes."
Cassie smirked, running a hand through her messy blue-black hair. "Yeah, but this one is yours."
Damian narrowed his eyes. "Tt. And what do you intend to do with all of my shirts, exactly?"
Cassie grinned. "Build a collection."
Damian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples like he was regretting all of his life choices.
"You are infuriating."
"And yet, here you are," Cassie teased, stepping closer.
Damian narrowed his eyes. "You are testing my patience."
Cassie raised an eyebrow, now inches from him. "Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Wayne?"
Before she could react, Damian’s hands shot out, grabbing her by the waist and effortlessly lifting her off the ground.
Cassie yelped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed and dropped her onto the mattress.
She bounced slightly, blinking up at him. "Oh. Okay. Wow. Hi."
Damian smirked, caging her in with his hands on either side of her. "You steal from me, you face the consequences."
Cassie grinned, unfazed. "So dramatic, Wayne."
"Tt."
Damian leaned down, his nose brushing against hers.
"You have five seconds to return my shirt."
Cassie tilted her head. "Or what?"
Damian’s smirk deepened.
"You will find out."
Cassie’s heartbeat stuttered.
Because, oh damn, he was actually serious.
Cassie weighed her options.
- Give the shirt back like a reasonable person.
- Run for her life.
- Make it worse.
She obviously chose option three.
Cassie grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him right then and there.
Damian stiffened for half a second, then relaxed, his hands sliding up to her waist, fingers digging into the stolen fabric.
Cassie smirked against his lips. "Still want it back?"
Damian pulled away slightly, eyeing the shirt.
Then, to Cassie’s absolute delight and horror, he smirked.
"Keep it."
Cassie blinked. "Wait, what?"
Damian simply kissed her again.
Because if she was going to wear his shirts anyway, he might as well make sure she smelled like him while doing it.