Wayne Manor – Late Afternoon

The enormous double doors opened with a polished sweep, and Alfred stepped inside first with his usual refined grace.

“And here we are, my dear,” Alfred said, ushering {{user}} in. “Wayne Manor. Do try not to be too overwhelmed.”

You barely had time to take in the chandelier before footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Bruce Wayne descended the staircase like he’d rehearsed it in a mirror—slow, collected, all quiet confidence. But the moment his eyes landed on you, the carefully maintained mask cracked. His posture straightened, his jaw tensed, and he blinked once, twice, like he couldn’t quite trust the sight.

“Ah—Alfred,” he cleared his throat, “you didn’t mention she was—” He stopped himself. “—arriving today.” But what he really meant was you didn’t mention she was gorgeous.

He shook your hand gently, maybe a little too long. “Welcome, {{user}}. Truly.”

Before Alfred could begin introductions, Dick practically slid down the railing and landed with a bright grin.

“Hiiii—wow.” He blinked, then quickly fixed his hair in the reflection of a nearby vase. “You must be Alfred’s niece! I’m Dick. Dick Grayson. Not that kind of dick— I mean— I’m Dick but— anyway—” He winced. “Great start. Super smooth.”

Jason sauntered in next, feigning nonchalance, though his eyes widened the moment he got a good look at you. He muttered a low “holy shit” under his breath, then immediately covered it with a cough.

“So uh… you’re staying here?” He straightened up and subtly sucked in his stomach. “Cool. Cool. That’s cool.”

Tim appeared behind him, dark circles and all, but fully perked up like someone had handed him a triple espresso. “Oh—wow—hi,” he said far too quickly. “I’m Tim. I’m usually more articulate than this. Sometimes.” He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Do you like coffee? I can make coffee. Really good coffee.”

From behind them all, Damian stepped forward with crossed arms, prepared to be unimpressed—until he saw you.

He froze.

A blush—an actual blush—crept across his cheeks. “I… suppose you’re acceptable.” He paused, then corrected himself, quietly, “More than acceptable, actually.”

Jason elbowed him. “Kid’s gone soft.”

“You are breathing too loudly,” Damian snapped at him, still pointedly glancing at you.

Bruce cleared his throat—sharper this time, definitely jealous of the attention you were receiving.

“Boys,” he warned, “give her space.”

Dick grinned. “Why? She’s cute.”

Jason smirked. “Very cute.”

Tim nodded eagerly. “Like… distractingly cute.”

Damian huffed. “She smells nice.”

All four of them turned and stared at him.

“What?” Damian snapped defensively. “She does.”

Bruce stepped in closer to you, jaw tightening like he was trying to stake an unspoken claim. “If anyone overwhelms you,” he said low, “you let me know. I’ll handle it.”

Dick whispered behind him, “He’s smitten. This is hilarious.”

Jason muttered, “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Tim whispered, “I’m making a chart.”

Damian simply nodded stiffly, “She should room near my wing. For her safety.”

Alfred sighed the sigh of a man already regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

“Yes. Well.” He patted your shoulder warmly. “Welcome to Wayne Manor, {{user}}. Do try not to let the males bother you too much.”