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glittering-moonlillie · 1 year

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My Beloved (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Word Count: 2740

Warnings: None

Summary: Not knowing how to express his feelings any other way, Damian resorts to calling you pet names in his mother's tongue in order to air out his pent up affection.

“Habibti, can you hand me the yellow frosting?” Damian was in deep trouble - absolutely terrible, hideous trouble.

“Of course!” You reached over to your left and handed him the buttercream, the arabic pet name flying over your head.

In his language, Habibti was a sign of endearment given to your lover, usually meaning something along the lines of My Love or Darling - but to you, he was utterly convinced that you believed it was a form of belittlement similar to Idiot.

Of course, Damian was too afraid to correct you and he was not sure if you would believe him if he tried. He would rather keep it a sweet secret to himself, even if his fragile heart was practically leaping its way out of his rib cage to expose itself to you.

“You know, if you want to call me something mean at least make it so I can understand you.” You laughed, a noise that would certainly haunt him late at night when he was alone and longed for your presence.

“But it’s much more fun seeing you like this.” You scruched your nose, your forehead creasing with the movement. Your lips were parted but no words came out. It was an adorable look he had grown to love despite how dorky you appeared.

You retaliated with a poorly placed handful of orange frosting along his cheek, your lips twisting into a pout that only served to make the fantasies of kissing you worsen.

Orange was an obnoxiously disgusting color but he would bathe in a lazarus pit full of orange frosting if you wished it.

He ran his thumb along his cheek and licked away whatever frosting was there. Alfred’s special buttercream frosting really was to die for. Damian enjoyed the way your eyes slightly widened, relishing in the fact that it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else. He liked to think that the scarlet decorating your face was because of him being undoubtedly sexy, and not the fact that it was because it was a hot summer’s day.

“You’re staring, ya amar.” He smirked. “And I believe that cookie has way too much frosting, it looks like Picaso threw up all over it.”

Ya Amar had to be Damian’s second favorite pet name for you, translating to my moon. He often recalled the way his mother praised the moon for its beauty, treating it similar to a guiding life force. More than anything, Damian wanted to be the sun that illuminated your countenance - to be the man who kept you steady and loved you even if you just saw yourself as a clumpy rock. The name suited you perfectly. You were his beautiful, crated moon with star imbued eyes and a body that reflected the power of an inescapable black hole.

“Hey, are those cookies almost finished? B wants them set out within the hour-” Tim walked in, his under eye bags accentuated further with the distasteful dark blue sweater he threw on.

His brother paused, rolling his eyes at the state of the dining table. Damian hoped that the kitchen disaster was enough of a distraction for him not to notice the lovey-dovey eyes he assuredly was giving his best friend.

“We’ll clean it up, Tim. Sorry about that.” You replied quickly. “But most of the cookies are done, Damian still has a few to finish though.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning wildly like the Cheshire cat.

“Just don’t get distracted flirting with each other, I don’t want to deal with an irritated Bruce.”

“Shut up, Timothy. At least we aren’t aggressively making out like how you and Conner were at the last gala.” Damian shot back.

Tim frowned. “I’m too tired to deal with this. Try not to explode anything, okay?”

Damian waved off his brother and went back to decorating one of the cookies for the large event at Wayne Manor tonight. It was a charity event to raise awareness of the increase in homeless population on the streets of Gotham, and alongside the event, his family was hosting a soup kitchen for any struggling person on the streets. Along with a hearty, full course meal, they would be served one of the cookies being decorated by the two of you.

Although Damian’s father normally did not allow any friend’s to charity events, you were always an exception due to the fact that if you weren’t there, Damian would blow a gasket and murder someone if he was in a suit for too long. Your presence beside Damian was often looked over when you were both younger, but now that a few years had gone by plenty of journalists speculated the possibility of “a secret blooming relationship.”

The common theory circulating around Gotham was the idea that his father was disapproving of them being together since you were a “commoner,” therefore excusing the lack of concrete evidence of the relationship existing. Damian had found the notion completely ridiculous; even if his father disapproved of you in that context, that would not stop him from loving you the way he always dreamed, consequences be damned.

You treated the whole situation with carefree ease, giggling at the awful pictures and wack job theories concocted by 40 year old men looking to sell half-baked news. On one hand, Damian was pleased that the unwanted attention did not bother you, but deep down he also felt a pang of poison seep its way into his bloodstream. Was the idea of being his lover that much of a joke?

The clicking of a phone keyboard brought him back to reality. Damian peered over your shoulder and saw Safari pulled up.

“What ever are you doing, habibti?”

“I’m trying to decipher what you are calling me.” You said. “Can you repeat that last word for me, please?”

The youngest Wayne felt every single pour in his body drip in sweat, excess saliva pooling in his mouth. Perhaps if his blood was functioning properly, then he would have found a better response other than a simple no.

It was very rare for Damian to be properly caught off guard. He should have thought that you would have looked up the words he was repeating, should have come up with a game plan instead of looking like a strangled goose.

His first instinct was to snatch the phone away and cut it up with the plastic, buttercream decorated knife. Damian could pretend to be possessed by a ghost and buy you a better phone with specially installed programs that inhibited your ability to look up any Arabic term. Yes, that was a wonderful idea-

“How are there zero search results?!!” You exclaimed, turning to him. “Did you make up a language or something? Why are there absolutely zero results??”

Damian looked at your phone again. You certainly took some liberties with the spelling of the pet name, letting him relax into his seat. It was nowhere close to how the word was spelled. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Why are there two y’s in the word?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Well maybe if you told me the other 20 languages you spoke I’d get somewhere.”

For the next 15 minutes, you angrily punched in 17 different ways to spell Habibti, all massively incorrect and leading to nowhere. You eventually threw your phone on the ground with a huff while he cackled.

“This is so unfair. I demand restitution for the amount of time I have lost thanks to you.” Damian hummed.

“I can’t give you back those missing minutes, but I can pay you back with your favorite meal and my full attention tonight.”

You pretended to ponder over the offer, but Damian knew you could not say no to Alfred’s cooking. “Okay, fine. But only because I love Alfred’s food and nothing else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon peered over the horizon, the stars twinkling like falling fairy dust on a navy blue canvas. Hundreds of Gotham’s richest filled Wayne Manor, most of which were dressed with gaudy colors and bedazzlements, with feathers and overpriced jewels.

Damian was dressed in a dark green suit, one that Alfred had picked a little while ago. He was fully aware of the lustful stares he was given by the woman (and some of the men) there but he could care less. There was only one person he cared about impressing and that said person was “discreetly” stuffing themselves with a plate full of food in the corner.

As an attendant of the Gala, you were in a stunning dress that fit every single curve of your body marvelously, all courtesy to Stephanie who helped you pick out the dress to begin with. Heat rose to his cheeks and he began fumbling with his tie.

Damian was not the only one there to notice your beauty either. As you were trying to polish off your plate of food, several men had made attempts to woo you onto the dancefloor. Thankfully you declined all of their advances - Damian was not sure what he would have felt if you did. If it weren’t for the hundreds of other people present, he would have unquestionably sliced off the suitors hands if they tried to touch you again.

“Ya Helo, you look…” His throat clogged as you stared up at him. “You look stunning…”

Damian was convinced that your smile was the brightest thing in the universe; he was also sure that it could cure any bout of irritation or sadness possible.

“About time you showed up! Are you done flirting with the 70 year old women yet or does your dad want you back in there?” You poked his chest, the touch feeling like an electrical transfer.

“You know that I would never flirt with those women back there, Habibti. My dad just wanted me to manipulate them into giving more of their money to charity.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he clasped it and brought it closer to his heartbeat. Your hands were a pebble compared to his own and yet they still managed to fit perfectly together like Incan architecture.

“I-I…” You looked away with a crooked smile. “I know that, obviously. I just wanted to tease you a bit!”

When you turned towards him once more, he noticed the way your eyes trailed down his visage, strawberry lips parting ever so slightly. Your laughter died in your throat. The scene felt like the ridiculous romcoms he analyzed from time to time while you were over. All he had to do was lean in a little bit closer and his dreams would be fulfilled-

The tight grip of someone’s hand seized his arm, effectively pulling him away from his darling. The movement caught Damian off guard (the second time that day). There was only a select handful of people who were able to sneak up on him like that…

“Mother.” Damian seethed, turning to gaze upon the woman with a cold glare. “What are you doing here?”

Fitted for the occasion in a sleek black dress, Talia crossed her arms and matched her son’s glare. “Is a mother not allowed to visit her son, especially when he has not messaged her in months?”

Damian stood in front of you, his hands slightly raised in case Talia decided to activate her mother bear mode. Talia’s eyes furrowed, her lip pursing.

“How about you and your little friend follow me upstairs. You can tell me all about how you two met.” She suggested but her voice made it sound more like a threat.

Damian hated how your smile disappeared and was replaced with an apprehensive grimace. He reached for your hand and squeezed.

“Dami…”

“It’ll be alright habib albi…” He whispered, squeezing your hand once again. As the three of them climbed up the stairs, the soft tune of the violin faded into nothing, not even background noise.

“Mother, I find this hardly necessary. Could you have interfered in my life some other day?” Damian groaned.

“Of course not, my son.” Talia shut the door of the room they entered. “If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to meet the girl who stole my beloved’s heart.”

Damian’s heart dropped. “I- what?”

“Y-you must be mistaken. Damian and I…Damian doesn’t like me like that!” You stuttered out with nervous laughter.

Talia raised a single eyebrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe considering what I heard him call you.”

Fuck. Damian mentally slapped himself. He should have known that his mother would have heard him call you that. The pet name was just so natural to him, slipping off his tongue like sweet honey, he forgot that his mother would have been able to understand.

You tilted your head towards Damian then back to Talia, reflexively playing with your hair. “I…maybe you misheard? He calls me these made up names, they really have no meaning.”

“Wait, so he has not told you what they meant?”

“No, he refused to tell me and when I looked it up, there were no search results.” You said.

“Mother, please-”

Talia raised her hand to silence him. “I can’t believe you have been lying to her, Damian! I have raised you better than that. She deserves to know that you are calling her Love of my heart and Darling in Arabic!”

You snapped your head towards Damian, who was internally screaming a colorful variety of cuss words towards his mother. He expected you to look horrified and slap him away, to run for the hills and never speak to him again.

Instead you had this beautiful awestruck look in your galaxy-filled eyes. Your face was a deep crimson.

“Dami…” You hesitated. “Is this true?”

The hopeful tone in your voice was as intoxicating as a few shots of bourbon.

Damian imagined that the day he confessed to you would be atop a starry hill with perfectly blooming jasmines and evening primroses. He would pull you into his arms and whisper his love for you when the moon was at its peak, ending it with a kiss if you let him. It would have been perfect, if fate allowed it to be.

However, there were no starry hilltops or sweetly smelling fragrances - no moon that would peer over them and give its blessing. But you were there with him, an arm's reach away. As long as you were there, wasn't that all that mattered?

Damian glared at his mother, who was in the background with a smug smile, pretending to not overhear the conversation. When she didn’t get the message, he cleared his throat as loud as he could.

“Fine. I suppose I’ll leave you to it - but I expect you to message me afterward since I did the hard work for you.” Talia sauntered her way out of the room, leaving you and Damian alone.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dami…” You glanced up at him with a shy smile. “Were you really secretly giving me pet names in Arabic?”

Reaching for your hands, Damian pulled you close to create a few inch gap. “Yeah…I wanted a way to show you how much I…how much I loved you without you figuring out.”

You giggled, the vibrations of it causing his heart to flutter. “You’re a dork, you know that? I would have reciprocated your feelings no matter what, but it would have been nice if you had told me sooner.”

Your finger trailed down his neck to his collarbone, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake. “I demand more restitution for the time lost.”

Damian hummed, pretending to think of the perfect solution despite him already having one. You edged closer to him.

“How about,” he began, “I kiss you until your lips are as blue as this night sky?”

But before you could respond, Damian already brought his lips to yours. The dreams and fantasies he had did not live up to the actual softness of your lips - the subtle taste of raspberries filling his senses.

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Shouldn’t we go back to the Gala?”

Damian looked back at the door, contemplating how mad his father would be if he ditched the rest of the party. It was waning closer to midnight anyway and he could just say you were tired.

He turned back to you, his smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’ll be fine. Besides, I would rather be with you than flirt with 70 year old women.”

Your attempted giggle was covered with the rougher press of his lips against yours, causing you to fall backwards onto the guest bed. After years of calling you Habibti, now he could finally say it without you thinking it was an insult.

Damian is a simp with huge dimples. Fight me.

#Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Al Ghul #Damian Al Ghul x Reader #Damian Wayne x Y/n #Romance #Damian has dimples!!#DC #Batfam #Fluff #Damian speaking Arabic #Arabic pet names #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Alfred Pennyworth #Tim Drake makes an appearance out of his tomb #Comics

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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:(( Early Adoption AUs where Dick and Jason kidnap baby Tim is such, such a good trope.

It all started when they were playing in the yard.

They miss Bruce everytime he leaves for a dumb meeting, and if they have to wait outside for him until it darkens, that's what they'll do.

They're having fun. Alfred even allowed them to turn the sprinklers on and get the bathtub toys out. It's not everyday Gotham allows sunshine showers, after all.

Jason spots Tim first.

A mess of dark locks creeping through his pink binoculars. Tim is a small kid. Jason notices the chair behind him. He also notices the inside of his house is fairly empty.

They don't agree on much, not on anything, really.

But they KNOW a baby isn't supposed to look that sad.

Bruce comes home a couple hours later, sighing in relief as moonlight shadows cool down his skin. He practically melts under the sun. Alfred jokes (or at least, Bruce hopes he is) its the vampire genes in him.

Still. He rarely, if ever, sees Alfred nervous.

" Don't you want to tell me about patrol?"

Bruce frowns, " You don't like hearing about it. I have to shower. I can't play with Dickie and Jay if I reek of blood."

" Just go to the other bathroom."

Now, he's suspicious. " In the bathroom you never let me use? Because the boys used it like a water park? The bathroom you've explicitly told me you'll make me an orphan again over?"

Alfred shrugs, " It's a nice bathroom."

There's giggles streaming through his bedroom door and Bruce pauses. He knows exactly how his babies sound when they're happy.

He knows the tell-tale mischief in Dick's bright snickers and Jason's ear popping shriek is Bruce's favorite sound.

But there's another one, smaller and thinner, yet joyful.

He gives Alfred one last look before entering, and the sight freezes him in his tracks.

Right there, there's his boys, drowning in his work suit jackets, with glitter markers smeared all over their eyelids. The bright reds and greens pop around Bruce's eyeliner.

And in the middle of them there's tiny, itty bitty Tim Drake, also smudge-eyed but GLOWING with a toothy grin.

"B!" Dick's eyes are wide, " Uh...So you're probably wondering...About this."

"Hn."

Then, Tim surprises them all when he points a finger at him, " Batman."

Oh, boy.

#basically im soft for the kids playing around with bruces eyeliner/makeup lol #bruce has a meeting with jack drake the following week. he listens to the man complain about his son's dissapearance #getting in the way of work. ' you didnt happen to see tom around anywhere. have you?' and bruce's fist twitches.#he masks surprise 'oh. i didn't know you had a son.'#bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #batdad #soft bruce wayne #writing #my writing #fluff #alfred pennyworth

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 months

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Bruce Wayne. 2

.⋆｡Batman’s Kryptonite｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Bruce works too hard but unluckily for him, you’re more stubborn than he is

Warnings: reader can be sunburnt, fluff, mentions of showering together, workaholic Bruce

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

Bruce was nothing if not a hard worker. He continuously worked himself to the bone to keep everything afloat and for that, you really did admire him. He used his privilege to help so many people both in his day job and his night job but god did you find it hard to spend time with him.

His brain seemed fixated on his goals, even in the quiet moments where there was nothing to do. Nothing ever got his full attention, not even you, his loving girlfriend.

“How long has he been down here?” You crossed your arms over your chest as you observed Bruce who was currently hunched over his new project, blue eyes firmly fixated on the delicate wiring. Alfred sighed heavily through his nose.

“Since the moment he returned from the airport after dropping you off.” Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“That-“ You took a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down. “I knew a week long girl’s trip was too good to be true. I’ll take care of this, take a couple days off.” The older man nodded and left the cave with a fatherly squeeze to your shoulder.

As soon as you heard the elevator doors shut, you shed the thick cardigan and long sleeve shirt you were wearing, leaving you just in leggings (that Bruce absolutely went crazy for) and a thin undershirt that did little to disguise the colour of your bra. Your steps were light but not completely silent, it would do you no good to sneak up on the Dark Knight.

Even centimetres away, you could feel the tension in Bruce’s muscles, like he was wound up for a fight. He jumped only slightly as you laid your hands on his shoulder blades but he quickly eased into your tough, letting out a hum of acknowledgement. “Back early?”

“Actually, I’m right on time.” His hands faltered and you knew that his dark brows were pulled up like they always did when he was coming out of a work-related trance. The chair turned yet your hands never left his skin, now resting on his strong chest as he looked up at you. His pupils dilated, slowly overtaking the stunning blue of his irises as he took in your attire.

“Are you sure?”

You chuckled. “I have the sunburn to prove it.” He grunted, obviously not quite believing you, or he just didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t obeyed your suggestion of taking some time off when you were gone.

“You were supposed to come back on the fifth.” Bruce tried to argue as his eyes flicked back to his work. You knew that look, it was his ‘I want to end this conversation so I can get back to work’ but you knew exactly what to do to distract him.

“It is the fifth, my love. Maybe you need to take a break. How about coming upstairs with me and we’ll have a nice hot shower?” Your touch slowly migrated up his chest to his jaw and Bruce’s eyelids fluttered under the attention. But he just as quickly tensed up again, catching onto your game.

“Sorry sweets, I have work to do.” He attempted to turn his chair back around but you stepped between his spread legs, pinning him to the spot with your body.

Your bottom lip turned out into a truly award winning pout and you sniffed. “But I missed you baby, I just want to spend some time with you.” You could actually see his will beginning to crumble. One more step.

Tears filled your eyes. “Do you not want to spend time with me?”

He knew that they were crocodile tears but they tugged at the mass of guilt in his chest anyway. “Do not. I said no. Those puppy dog eyes don’t work every time. Fuck- fine.” Immediately, your tears disappeared and you beamed at him.

“Great! Maybe I’ll also show you the new bikinis I got on the trip.” Bruce groaned and let you pull him to his feet, abandoning his half-finished work.

“You are a cruel woman.” He complained as you dragged him to the cave’s exit. You looked back at your boyfriend with a wink.

“I just know Batman's kryptonite.” You teased and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Bruce wholeheartedly agreed. You definitely knew how to get him to fold.

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babyyoda234 · 3 months

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Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

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ruesyblues · 2 years

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Damian doesn’t like fish.

He tolerates the meat that is served at the manor most nights, even though it sits heavily and unpleasantly in his stomach. He puts up with Shepherd’s pie and spaghetti bolognaise and pork ribs, because the others seem to love it, singing praises for Alfred’s cooking every night, and Damian doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, or unusual, or out of place.

Then one night Alfred makes steamed fish, cooked in lemongrass and ginger, drizzled with soy sauce.

“I’ve noticed you don’t exactly enjoy our usual meals,” he says, and before Damian can protest, continues, “I looked up this recipe for you, I hope you’ll like it.”

Damian doesn’t like fish.

“Thank you,” he says, and then eats every bite. Alfred seems genuinely pleased and it fills him with warmth, which makes up for the way his stomach curled at the unpleasant texture.

Damian learnt to cook at a young age.

He was always busy, with lessons and training, his grandfather always pushing him to do more, to do better. Sometimes in the evening, however, he would follow his mother to the kitchen, where she would chop onions, fry spices in oil, and roll out rotis, getting flour in her pinned-back hair.

“Why do you cook?” he asked her, “You don’t have to.”

His mother laughed. “I like to,” she said, “Do you want to try rolling the roti?”

His first attempt came out uneven and oddly pentagonal, nothing like the perfect circles his mother made. She still ate it, and told him that it was the best roti she’d ever had.

Damian learnt to cook at a young age.

He also learnt that love was when someone made you a food you didn’t like and you ate it anyways and loved it, because you loved them.

His mother came back from Delhi once and brought him jalebis. “They were your favourite when you were younger,” she said.

Damian was eight now, and didn’t like the heavy, syrupy sweetness of jalebis anymore. But his mother was holding the gold-patterned box that she’d brought just for him, her hand resting gently in his hair, and he could feel a warmth rising up inside him, feeling like it would choke him if it got too big. He would have eaten a thousand jalebis to feel like this all the time.

Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.

“Sorry I’m late, Alfred,” Richard says breathlessly. “I brought ice cream?”

Damian doesn’t hear Alfred’s reply, but it makes Richard laugh. There are footsteps, and then Richard enters the living room where they’ve all gathered, looking wind-blown and ruffled but delighted to see all his siblings together. Damian knows how rare it is for all of them to gather in the manor, and he appreciates the opportunity to spend time with his family.

“What kind of ice cream did you get?” Drake asks.

“Mint chocolate chip,” Richard replies, and there’s a general cheer of appreciation through the room.

“My favourite,” Stephanie declares.

Richard grins, and comes around the sofa to give her a hug from behind. “That’s why I got it.”

Damian hates mint chocolate chip. He’d told Richard that once, when they were up on a rooftop after a night of patrol, expressing his disgust for the mismatched flavours at great length while Richard laughed. “How could anyone hate mint chocolate chip?” he’d asked with an exaggerated gasp of offence, but he’d seemed amused.

Damian loves Richard more than he’s loved anyone in his life. If Richard brings him mint chocolate chip ice cream, then Damian will love it too.

Alfred comes into the room with a tray laden with bowls, each filled with that brown-speckled green concoction. Damian waits for his, but when Alfred reaches him, he unearths a bowl of vanilla and hands that to Damian instead.

Damian stares at it. He’s so surprised that he barely remembers to thank Alfred.

“I got vanilla for you,” Richard tells him, as he settles into the couch next to him with a contented sigh. He grins. “I remember how much you hate mint chocolate chip.”

Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.

He knows the way Richard’s arm curls around his shoulders, however, and the way his grip tightens slightly as Damian leans into him, watching the others bicker over what movie they’re watching. Damian eats his vanilla ice cream, that Richard got specifically for him, and feels that familiar warmth.

It feels like love.

#damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #talia al ghul #alfred pennyworth #headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #dc #batman #bat family #batfam #dick and damian #rue's queues

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late-nightfalls · 2 months

Text

Think about Bruce Wayne trying to do his little girl's hair before she goes to school.

The girl wanted a pretty braid or she wouldn't go to school, no way!

Bruce has no idea how to do this. He's in trouble!

Alfred is not participating! He can't!

Alfred can only watch from afar as Batman faces one of his biggest challenges: Brushing his daughter's hair.

"Boss Bruce, maybe you should ask for help"

"Negative"

He asked for help shortly afterwards.

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #batfamily #batsis #slice of life #fluff prompts #domestic fluff #Bruce its trying to be a good father #Alfred is proud of him...more or less?#What If Bruce Waynes's have a daughter #dc universe #dc comics #batman dc #dc batman #batman comics #batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader

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confused-wanderer · 1 year

Text

We all know Damian’s not one for physical or verbal affection. So I raise you: drawings

Drawings and paintings are the easiest way inside Damian’s mind. The more angry or disturbed he is, the more details the drawing is and the palette depends on the emotion. Fear? Bright lights with one pitch black spot. Anxious? A mixture of dark and light colours.

No matter what he draws, the batfam always looks for how detailed it is. On days he’s happy or content the drawing looks a bit abstract, like too many ideas were flowing and he didn’t mind making a mess (not having a specific direction) of his drawing.

But it’s also how he shows affection.

On Dicks birthday he once painted the entire circus along with a little dick laughing and swinging on the trapeze with his parents with the crew doing their acts and the animals having fun.

That was the first indication Dick had of Damian’s change in behaviour that showed him he was willing to open up, to care and change…even if it took time.

Jason found a particularly striking portrait of his favourite scene from a book, painted with a magnificent splendour with every detail and symbolism present, with the characters drawn just as he’d imagined. It’s so beautiful he hangs it in one of his most visited safe houses, and it isn’t until later when he realises it could have been the reason Damian stole his favourite book which contained notes on each scene.

Alfred catches a glimpse of Damian painting something he insists is for Bruce’s eyes only, but the palette was a mixture of bright colours.

Only on his parents death anniversary, when all his siblings are in town and sitting in a room with Bruce when he taps on Dick, Jason and Steph’s shoulders and asks them to come with him. They’re hesitant at first but the vulnerability in his eyes finally wins them over.

Damian knows how to draw, but not how to present, especially when everyone’s watching and he doesn’t know how they’ll react, or rather how Bruce would.

So they help him figure out how he wants to show Bruce, and on his request together take the painting and unveil it in front of Bruce when they’re all standing on the Balcony.

It’s a picture of the entire family, with all the newest members and in the background homages of their superhero identities, along with Easter eggs for poison ivy, Harley, the justice league and so many others.

But in the centre was Bruce, standing in the centre of his parents and all the other members in order from oldest to youngest, surrounding him.

It was the first time Damian learnt that tears aren’t always a bad thing.

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redhead-batgal · 1 year

Note

Damian x y/n: y/n fell asleep at the manor while hanging out with Damian and woke around 2am, y/n gets lost on way to kitchen and meets Jason and says " hello dummy thiccc man"

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Best Friend! and Gender Neutral! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Content: Technical one-sided pinning, simp! reader, aged up Damian and reader, cursing, humor, lots and lots of fluff.

Word Count: 1,305

(P.S. I made it best friend! reader because I LOOVVVVE Best Friends to lovers. It's like my favorite troupe. I also changed it a bit, but I think it'll be fine. Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Human nature and emotions were so strange. Peculiar, how extreme they could be. It was like magic, how strange people could be or act in general. How rage could transform a person momentarily, how joy could bring people out of the darkness. Love though, Love was stronger than any other emotion. It was stronger and more powerful. A black magic of sorts that would take over and change you into someone completely different.

And you had just been hit by its spell.

Part of you didn't entirely understand why you caved to his every whim. Why the tiniest frown and gleaming of eyes could make your stomach swirl and instantly feel guilty.

The rest of you... it-it knew. Knew that you were wrapped so tightly around his finger you might shatter if you did something wrong. Knew how the smallest glimpse of his smile would send your heart racing and make you weak in the knees.

Damian Wayne had a magic of some kind, and you were completely and totally enchanted. So enchanted you sometimes forget the way the world actually works and that you should think before you speak. Unfortunately, tonight just so happened to be a night that his magic overcame you.

Drearily blinking, you found yourself curled into Damian's side. His breathing was slow and steady, calming, even. For a moment you almost drifted back into that peaceful bliss of sleep.

However, your mind jumped. Making you realize how close you were to him and that- that... you probably shouldn't be. No- no you definitely shouldn't be.

Here and now, he was vulnerable, and he hated being vulnerable in front of people. You couldn't stay, if you did, he'd be upset and- and... and you really really hate it when he's upset with you.

Slowly slipping from his grasp, you dropped towards the floor, hoping that you won't startle him awake. Sneaking towards the door you take a moment to look over your shoulder, he took a breath in before letting it out softly. Closing your eyes for a moment you let out a small sigh of relief.

He was still asleep, thank goodness. Part of you didn't want to leave, seeing him so peaceful and happy made something warm bubble in you. However, you knew you had to go, for him and for you. After all you have been here for a while... Wait, how long have you been here?

Sliding out the door you peered around the corner, hoping to see someone wandering around who you could ask. Instead, you are met by pitch darkness and an eerie quiet that shook you to your core.

Oh god, what time was it?

Half scrambling down the stairs you bit your lip. Please oh please don't be morning yet. Your mother would kill you if you stayed out all night.

Clock, clock... where oh where is a clock? Where was the closest one??? Living room? No Steph and Duke broke that one yesterday with their Wii sports tournament. Anywhere else made your mind spin and then- then a thought rose up suddenly.

The kitchen.

Yes, yes, the kitchen should have a clock... and a phone.

The more you moved through the darkness the later you thought it was. Was it four? five? Oh god, please let it be the same day. Blinking, a bit, you noted light seeping under the door rather absentmindedly.

Your hand pushed the door open, and you found the blinking numbers on the microwave. They sent a tumble of nerves straight to your stomach.

Two am. It was two fucking am.

How in hell were you going to survive this? It was a twenty-minute drive home and at minimum, a two-hour walk. There was no way you'd make it home before the sun came up.

A clatter dragged you from your thoughts and you looked up to see a man sitting at the table. He had short dark hair with a white streak through a front section. His eyes were greenish, not as green as Damian's but something about them seemed similar.

It took you no more than a second to notice he was not wearing a shirt. And your brain froze, your thoughts suddenly deciding to spill out.

"Hello dummy thicc man."

Silence followed and a snort of sorts. You blinked seeing a smile stretched across the man's face. Heat flushed through you, and you closed your eyes.

"Dammit. I said that aloud, didn't I?"

The man nodded, leaning forward ever so slightly. He winced instantly and you then spotted the bloodied spot on his torso.

"Holy shit, you're bleeding!"

A weak smile was now on the man's face, and he nodded. Your eyes went wide and your hands darted forwards.

"Are you going to be, okay?"

"Yeah, Alfie's takin care of me.'' He looked you over and snorted once again, "you're the gremlin's?"

Your brow furrowed and you tilted your head before blinking a few times.

“Uh, if you mean Damian, yeah I’m his friend.”

A smirk of sorts worked its way onto his face, and you began fiddling with your fingers.

"I'm y/n." You weakly say.

"Jason... though you probably know me as Todd."

You clamped your mouth shut as a wave of laughter built up in you. Somehow, he had managed to almost mimic Damian perfectly. Looking away from him you squeezed your eyes shut as a giggle of sorts escaped you.

Finally, you looked back to Jason- no Todd... oh yeah. You had heard about him. Nothing really bad though. Strange, though him never being around probably contributed to that.

"The gremlin does have a type. Waffles was right."

You tilted your head again, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly. Waffles? Who could be waffles? you opened your mouth to question the nickname when a door swung open. You froze, only to see Alfred carrying a tray filled with bandages and antiseptics.

"Uh, hi."

Alfred smiled at you before setting the tray on the table. Jason instantly began reaching for things only for Alfred to whack his hand without looking away from you.

"I'm glad to see you, Mx Y/n. Did you sleep well?"

You nodded and heard the door behind you open. You then noticed a strange smile slide onto Alfred's face and Jason snorted again shaking his head.

"Hello Master Damian."

Looking over your shoulder in a little bit of horror, you found Damian behind you rubbing his eyes, his hair disheveled and pointing in many directions.

"Pennyworth," He yawned, "Todd."

Jason grunts in greeting and you stand frozen staring at Damian, your mind racing. Were you too loud? Did you wake him up? Was he upset?

"Y/n," Damian then said, holding out his hand, "come on."

"Huh?"

"We should go back to bed. School starts early tomorrow. Father would be very upset if he knew I was awake."

"Uh, but- I- why are you awake?"

"You left." He said with a slight, "duh." At the end.

You went very still as his words began to run rampant in your head. Did that mean you woke him up when you left? Were you too loud slipping out the door? Did you hop off the bed too sharply?

A hand took yours and you blinked, finding Damian before you. He pulled at your hand slightly. "Come on."

"But- it- it's two. My mom- she's-"

"We informed your mother that you would be staying the night. You do not need to worry Mx. Y/n." Alfred suddenly chimed in.

Looking back towards him you raised an eyebrow; he was nonchalantly wrapping a bandage around Jason's torso. Tilting to the side you notice ripped abs. You only managed a quick glance before Damian pulled you from the room.

"It's time to sleep Y/n."

Turning back towards Damian you smiled before following after him.

"Coming."

Taglist:

@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @krswrites @thefallingstarlights @masset-fotia @yorsgf @ssak-i

#y/n x damian wayne #damian wayne x y/n #reader x damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #reader #y/n #batboys #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #Alfred Pennyworth #fluff #requested #one-shot #best friend! reader #gender neutral! reader #batkids #batfam #batboys x y/n #cute

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morgansunflower · 1 year

Text

Slammed Doors

Bruce Wayne X Wife! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1311

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V

Requested taglist:@too-strong-to-lose

Losing her would end him. He couldn't even look at her thinking each time how close she was gone.

"what the hell were you thinking Bruce?! Again for the third time this month!" she shouted at him losing her temper.

"I did not see the urgency of a fragment of my night to be so important" he coldly said pissing his wife off more.

"look in the damn mirror! You insisted me to stay on bench for weeks after I had a little stab!"

"that is an entirely different situation!" he defended "it nearly hit your main arteries! You're blind to think otherwise!"

"different?! You're driving me insane! Bullet number one your flank, the next your arm and the third your chest. You had a minor concussion! The only reason I know is because Alfred told me after expressing that he thought you told me.. Just a dammed text or call would've been helpful or dammit Bruce send someone to tell me. Don't tell Alfred not to worry with informing me... " she takes a deep breath forcing tears back "it's bad enough that you won't even hardly look at me" she mumbled

His heart cried while his anger overcomes his feelings of remorse. "you're so damn stubborn! We are not discussing this any further!"

"oh so that's it?! You get hurt and it's nothing" He walks away from her to the bat-mobile. "we are still talking about this Bruce!" he gets in putting his cowl on "if you drive away don't expect to sleep with me tonight or any other night!" she threatened with a cry.

"fine with me" he scoffed with a, grunt and then shuts the door.

The tires skid as he leaves. Y/N kicked the ground pissed. Early in the morning. She couldn't sleep last night, Bruce didn't even bother trying to sleep. She had stayed in the gust room unable to be around Bruce after their fight. She sits on the chair in the dining room. She hears Bruce hitting his fork on his plate abruptly. She couldn't make herself look at him. They had grown distant and cold over the last few weeks. The fight was the last straw to send them into turmoil with each other. It hadn't been this bad since he lied to her about Grayson's death. They had grown busy with their lives, patrol and work. Everything seemed to pulling them apart.

"is everything alright amongst you both?" Alfred asked bringing Mrs Wayne her coffee.

"were fine Alfred" Bruce said with a angered grunt.

Fine?! She needed to get away from him. She raises from her chair. She walked away and slammed the door to her current bedroom. She hears the door to Bruce's study slam shut. That's when she feels a tear roll down her face.

"Mommmmmy.. Are you ok?" Stephanie asked through the door

"things seem pretty heated between you and B" Jay said

"can we do anything for you?" Duke offered

"talk to us Ma" Tim pleaded

She takes a shaky breath and then clears her throat. "I'm ok my loves don't worry"

That night she laid in the guest room. She sighed heavily she hated absolutely hated fighting with him. She can't sleep.. She keeps thinking about Bruce and her fighting. She hears her window door opening. She sighs heavily, she really didn't want him to see her like this.

"I don't want to see you right now B"

"mother?" Damian softly said.

"hey mom, you ok?" Grayson asked right by his little brother. He turns to shut the window.

She sit upward turning the lamp on "oh hi Damian, hi Grayson. I'm sorry boys.. I didn't know it was you. I'm ok"

"what happened between you and Father?" Damian asked entering the room.

"seems like it was a pretty bad fight" Grayson sympathized, he knew from when he was Robin. If Mom was sleeping in a different bed things were really bad.

"oh.. It's, ok. We're just... Just.. Not happy with each other right now" she sighed defeated.

"is it something I did?" Damian asked

"oh no! No.. It's just.. It's going to be OK son" she assured him.

Damian laid beside her and rest his head on her shoulder. Grayson stands by the bed and lays the covers on them. He holds her hand to comfort her. It was so hard to hide how she's feeling. Especially to her older children.

"I gotta go drag Babs into bed or she'll be up for too long again, sleep well mom. Night Dami, night Ma" Grayson kindly said

"thanks son" she mumbled

It'd now been 5 miserable days. Bruce sighed looking at the wedding photo that was on his desk. He had to fix this before there was too much distance between the two of them. His heart was heavy as he craved to be near Y/N. He walked to the room she had been staying in. He didn't see her and her purse was gone. There was a box of Crackers on her nightstand. He smelled vomit? Why would she be going out if she is sick? He stepped into the bathroom. The room was clean. He looked in the medicine cabinet to make sure she was taking proper medication. Bruce nearly gasps from shock. He holds the special vitamins. He softly smiled. That night he told the children that their room was strictly off limits. He prepared their room for a elegant evening. Alfred helped of course. Bruce laid freshly made platter on the bed. He had their wine glasses placed on the platter and the bottle in the bucket of ice. Just as he was finished, he hears Y/N stepping to the room. He opens the door taking her hand and gently pulls her in the room. She was startled and then completely surprised.

"Bruce.. You--I.. I can't believe" she nearly burst into tears.

"I want to be a better husband to you" he pleaded kissing her temple.

He guides his wife to the bed. Her face was full of emotional joy. He adjusted the pillows for her. He holds her hand as she sits down. Bruce moved to sit on the other side of the bed. He takes a wine bottle and he moved to pour it into her glass. Her heart raced. She has to tell him.

"I think I may just have water...."

"really? This is your favorite flavor" he shows her the bottle label. Non-alcoholic f/f wine.

She smiled softly "but, don't you want?.. "

He pours the wine in both glasses "I could use a break"

"you know! I can't believe you know! I promise you that I was going to tell you"

"I know" he softly smiled

Bruce reaches his hand out to hold her face, he softly smiled she looks so beautiful so full of love, he wants to embrace her "29 days ago you were almost killed. You weren't br-breathing, your heart stopped.. Y/N" he sighed letting out a deep breath as he couldn't fight how truly terrible he felt "20 days ago on a cold night in Paris we had outstanding sex" he smirks kissing her knuckles, to which she softly laughed at his words. He rubs her temple tenderly "that night... I was terrified that the closer you stood by me.. The more danger you were in. I was wrong" she began to cry, he kisses her forehead "I was angry and... I was scared. I took it out on you, forgive me?" he holds both of her hands

"Bruce" she kisses his lips covering his heart in warmth of security "please.. Don't... Don't ever push me away again"

He reaches embracing her, the moment caused his breath to be stolen. She was still here. She still forgave him.

"I will never ever do this to you again. I will try my hardest to be the one you deserve... Are you hungry?"

She laughed with tears hugging him tightly "you have no idea"

#bruce wayne x wife! reader #Bruce Wayne X Reader #Batman X Batmom #Guilt #Fighting #Make up #forgiveness #Pregnancy #pregnant! reader #Bruce Wayne X Pregnant! Reader #unplanned pregnancy #batfamily #alfred pennyworth #fluff

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nightwolf14292 · 22 days

Text

Hi this is Bruce being depressed over Jason's death and lil' Tim trying to make him feel better with hugs and cuddles as kids do because we stan Bruce not being a douche to young Tim while he's grieving 😌

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daddyy333 · 8 months

Text

Geralt of Rivia Fluff

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.6k

warnings: reader is injured at the beginning, reader is wounded, reader gets stitches (I think), clingy geralt, ?

summary: Never in your wildest dreams did you think Geralt of Rivia would turn out to be the clingiest boyfriend you’d ever had

When you first started your relationship with Geralt- actually, scratch that. When you first met Geralt you thought he was the furthest thing from clingy. He barely even spoke, much less touched you or even looked in your direction really.

After he fell out with Yennefer, he met you. He was planning to just stay in this small village for a few days and rest, knowing he had to keep moving so no one would find him and Ciri. That was until he stumbled upon you.

He found you running from some odd and probably hungry monster, looking to feed…on you. Possibly one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen. You looked quite out of place, your light pastel purple skirt gradually getting covered in dirt as you tried to escape the creature.

You yelped as you tripped over a branch, sobs racking your body as you fell face first into the dirt. You groaned, cursing frantically through sobs, trying to crawl away from the creature.

“fu- FUCK!” You said as the creature drug his claw across your thigh. You cried out, whimpering as you finally accepted your fate. Suddenly, right when you feel it’s stinky, hot breath on you it disappears just as fast.

You couldn’t see what was happening, back facing upwards and your face still buried in the ground. You felt a man’s hands on your waist and you screamed, curling tighter even though it caused more pain to pulse in your thigh.

“Miss, I’m the one who just saved your life. I’m…a Witcher. Even if you hate me right now, I’d like to help you if that’s alright?” He said as he walked in front of you bending down so you could see him. You whimpered as you said “p-please don’t hurt m-me”

“I’m not going to. I just need you to cooperate and I promise you’ll be just fine in a little while” he said and you nodded. He scooped you up and plopped you on his horse, making you cry out in pain.

“Can you…mmm- b-be gentle?” You asked and he sighed. He mumbled an apology and started leading Roach back to his lodgings that he found sufficient for a few days.

You had passed out then, and he realized that his poor excuse for a tourniquet failed. “Shit,” he said and laid you on his bed, pulling your skirt off to help him treat you better.

“Oh gods, what the hell is this?” Ciri asked and Geralt sighed. He poured a disinfectant on your thigh as he said “found her being chased by a monster. Did my job. Now I’m helping her” “why didn’t you just find a doctor to do it?” She asked, setting her bag of fruits down and beginning to wash them.

“Don’t have the coin for it. Why so many questions, Ciri?” He asked and she shrugged. She looked over and said “I don’t know, just…feels unusual” “she needs help. I’m providing it” he said and Ciri nodded, chuckling.

He treated you to the best of his abilities and waited for you to wake up, going out and chopping some wood to fill his time and also training with Ciri a bit. When he came back inside it was nighttime and you were still sleeping.

He knew you weren’t dead, he could hear your heartbeat faintly and you weren’t super pale anymore. He walked over and shook you lightly, trying to wake you up. “Miss?” He asked, and you still didn’t budge.

He sighed and then nearly jumped when Jaskier busted in, a little drunk admittedly. “Ohhhh Geralt!” He sang, stumbling in. Geralt sighed and stared at him, hoping Jaskier wouldn’t cause too much trouble because he needed to look after you.

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes and coughing a few times. You tried to sit up but moving your thigh cause immense pain. “Ahh!” You groaned, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

“Hi, Miss. Are you alright?” Geralt asked and you jumped slightly. You looked around frantically and then said “w-where is my skirt?” You asked and he cleared his throat. He showed that it was on a table and said “I had to take it off to treat your wounds”

You looked down at your thigh and winced, gently touching it and moving the bandage. “Thank- th-thank you” you said, looking up at him. Jaskier walked over with a smirk on his face and said “and who are you-” “Jaskier,” Geralt scolded softly.

“Y/n…of Aedirn” you said and smiled a little. You noticed a look of confusion on his face and you understood why. You were in a far away village near Creyden, why? “Julian Alfred Pankratz?” You asked the brown haired gentleman and he smiled. He nodded and said “that would be me. Viscount of Lettenhove”

You nodded and looked up at the white haired Witcher, sighing. “Uhm…Rivia…Geralt?” You asked and he nodded, a small smile on his face. Ciri had came out of her room and scoffed at the interaction. “Are you blushing?” She asked and Geralt shot a stern look her way.

“You should be asleep” he said and she shook her head. “Jaskier woke me up” she mumbled and he gasped. He ran over and hugged her as he said “I deeply apologize, my little pocket sized princess. Oh, you should get your beauty sleep come on”

You chuckled a little at the interaction and Geralt bent down to your level. His gaze made butterflies swirl in your stomach. “How are you feeling?” He asked and you sighed. You look down at your leg and said “sore. And dirty” “would you like me to help you with a bath? I would leave you alone but I don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly for a while” “I appreciate it. Yes, thank you” you said and he got to work.

He ended up staying for longer just to care for you and you told him your story. Your parents turned you away because you were secretly harboring magical abilities behind their back and they had strong opinions against that. You’ve been running around all over the continent trying to figure out where’s safest but it’s been tough and technically your homeless.

But he was so infatuated with you he wasn’t really thinking when he said “travel with me. And Ciri of course, and sometimes Jaskier” You shook your head and insisted you couldn’t, you would only be a bother. He insisted instead that you come along.

He was a man of mostly few words, and kept to himself quite a bit. You spent a lot of time with Ciri. You would teach her to cook, help her control her chaos, braid her hair, and even tell her stories of your travels before you met them. The two of you almost seemed like mother and daughter at times but neither of you noticed. You just felt like best friends.

You had to admit, Geralt was a beautiful man. When you caught him shirtless once, you nearly fainted. He was just so handsome, and you wanted to kiss every scar on his body till he forgot about them.

But you thought you never stood a chance with him. You knew about what happened with Yennefer and assumed that because of that you wouldn’t be able to have any romantic relationship with him. Even if you tried, you think it would be rude because of how much happened between them. Truly you are still convinced to this day that they are soulmates, and he would drop you in a heartbeat if she came back and wanted to try again. But that’s a story for another day.

Months go by, you’ve completely healed so long ago you don’t need to burden them any longer with your presence but you feel so welcomed and safe with them. However, after about a year or so you’ve started to think that maybe it would make things easier if you went off on your own again, like it used to be.

You packed your bags and made your way to the lake where Geralt was fishing from. “Hey,” you said, walking up to him. He looked over at you and grunted in response. “I uh…I’ve been thinking and I’m gonna go out on my own again. I’ve been healed for months and I don’t need to stay and bother you any longer. Im grateful fo-”

“Stop,” he said, putting down his net. He shook his head and said “what are you talking about? You are not leaving” “Geralt…I-I was only supposed to travel with you until my leg healed and it’s been over a year. I’m okay now. The less people you have to travel with the easier, so I thought maybe I’d-”

“No. You can’t go. You can’t- do not go. Y/n, why do you say such stupid things?” He asked and you shook your head. You scoffed, shaking your head as you said “why do you care so much? I’m just some strange, homeless woman you met a year ago and just so happened to save from a really stinky monster”

“You’re- why do you think so little of yourself? Stop talking about this nonsense, I don’t want to hear it” he said and you rolled your eyes. You folded your arms and said “so what? I cant go because you say so” “Ciri needs you! I ne- mmm. Go back inside, you’re not leaving” he said and you gasped.

He looked away, obviously shy and embarrassed and you blushed instantly. Did he really mean that? “Geralt…” you said and he ignored you. You walked over in front of him but he still wouldn’t look at you.

You cupped his cheeks and said “what were you going to say?” “I- I can’t. It’s- it’s not fair to Ciri” he said and you sighed. You looked over his facial expression and let go, slowly walking away. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

He decided to just say it in case he never got the chance again, even though he was scared. “I need you, y/n! Alright? There, I said it” he said and groaned as if he was annoyed. You smiled then, just slightly as you stopped walking, butterflies swirling in your belly.

“I thought you didn’t need anyone?” You said as you walked over again. He looked away, feeling so embarrassed he could run away. You almost couldn’t tell, just a small furrow between his brows aside from his usually stoic expression.

“I also said I didn’t want anyone needing me but now Ciri doesn’t get to leave my side and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I guess I lied. And I need you.” He said and you nodded, taking a deep breath. You looked over at what he had already caught and said “alright, fine”

You began to walk away and yet again he pulled you back, pushing you against a tree as he cupped your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. He looked scared, and you were just about to tell him he didn’t have to do this but then he kissed you and your mind blanked.

He slowly and gently licked into your mouth, connecting your tongues as he caressed and squeezed your waist. You were blushing and smiling so hard as your tongues swirled together, his warm hands making the butterflies in your belly worse.

You pulled away, feeling your face was going to explode and he was only making it worse. “What?” He asked as you stared at him. You giggled and said “you’re smiling,” “no, I’m not” he said and blushed, kissing you again.

He never stopped touching you after that day. You tried to keep this new relationship from Ciri but not a week later she caught Geralt embracing you as you made breakfast. He knew you were upset at him, but he couldn’t help the grin on his face as you scolded him, knife pointing towards him with your hair in a messy bun from when you slept and your nightgown still draping over your beautiful body.

She seemed a bit confused about it, clearly distracted during lessons and keeping to herself for a while after that. You never heard the end of it considering Geralt lingered around you quite a bit and had become so talkative as he got more and more comfortable with you everyday.

Eventually she warmed up to your new relationship, especially since she was seeing it all the time everywhere every day. He couldn’t keep his hands off you to save his life. Quite literally, he almost got seriously injured trying to get you away from one of the many monsters he's fought and killed.

And now, it’s high noon and you’ve been stuck in bed underneath a giant white haired man. A little sex, and a lot of cuddling has gone on in the last 16 or so hours. You assume at least. You’ve been too busy with Geralt.

“You know, I thought when we started seeing each other romantically that we wouldn’t last because I would feel insecure due to the lack of attention you’d give me. The last thing I’d expected was this” you said, making him lift his head up.

He searched your eyes as he said “do you…not like it?” “No, no, I love it, I just- well…have you met yourself? You’re not exactly very affectionate to everyone you meet” you said and you both laughed.

“I just…love you so much” he said and you blushed. He’d told you it took him so many years to tell Yennefer he loved her and you two had only been romantically involved for a little over a year. And it’s been the best year of your life.

He trusted you so much. He chose to be vulnerable and he chose to be vulnerable with you. It was the greatest feeling ever. You’d never given him a reason not to trust you and as scary as it was he reacted directly to that fact every single day he was with you.

“I love you more. My sexy, white haired lover” you said and he blushed. You kissed him and he said “the only white haired lover you’ll ever have” “for the rest of my life” you finished, kissing all over his face.

He smiled and it made you blush. You couldn’t help it. 10 years could pass and you’d still feel so shy when you could make him smile. “As much as I do love this, I am quite hungry” you said and he sighed. He rested his head back on your chest for just a moment longer and then got up, looking around for his clothes.

You smiled, rolling onto your side and admiring his body. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, turning around. It was a little bit of a strain but you reached over and smacked his ass, making him gasp and reach over to the other side of you, doing the same.

You squealed, calling a truce because you knew how quick he could turn this dirty and your ass was already sore from being slammed against so many things last night and also from having you in- never mind. If you keep remembering you’ll only get yourself worked up again and then you’ll never leave this bed.

“Dirty girl,” he said, leaning down and kissing you once he got his clothes on. You curled up in bed for just a little longer, smiling at the fond memories of how amazing it’s been loving Geralt for the last 2 years. Even when you weren’t together, you did everything you could think of to subtly show your love for him. You wouldn’t trade him for the world.

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#the witcher #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #cirilla of cintra #ciri #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz

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