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#Damian Wayne x reader
gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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You may request A batboys reacting to the death of the reader
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First time writing for Tim, so he’s probs ooc in this one.
Dick feels as though he’s failed you.
He tries to act like he was fine but he was far from it and everyone knew it as they stepped on eggshells with him during this time.
Dick would often find himself sat on the very rooftops where he’d take you on countless dates or just to star gaze and talk as though you were still with him.
It was his own way of comforting himself with your loss but that was never enough to stop the tears that fell from his eyes when he spotted a bright star he’s never seen before until now, and laughs humourlessly.
‘I see you’ve finally made your way amongst the stars huh sweetheart?’ He’d say as your star would twinkle in response, making him chuckle. ‘You’re so beautiful, the brightest of your kind.’ He adds sombrely as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as he felt his heart sing out for you, only to receive nothing in return.
Reality was often disappointing but with you it was a fairy tale.
Waking up to you was a dream within itself and getting to do mundane things with you before heading off to work was something that could only exist in a daydream.
He knew Hayley misses you as badly as he does with how he’d hear the poor dog whine and whimper at the door, as if waiting for you to walk through it and tackle her with kisses and love like you always did, only to get nothing for hours.
‘I know, I miss them too.’ He says against Hayley’s fur as she whimpers and whines at the door. ‘I miss them so fucking much it hurts.’ He adds as he allows himself to mourn for you alongside his dog long into the night.
Jason blames himself for not being fast enough or strong enough to keep you protected and safe.
The apartment you once shared with him that only recently had started to feel like home to him now felt cold and haunted with the ghost of you, so much so to the point he avoids it at all cost.
Nothing felt right without you, everything felt wrong and unjustified that he became more ruthless then before on patrols just to let off some steam and would come back from them more beaten and bruised then normal.
He didn’t care, he couldn’t feel anything anymore with how numb he became after loosing you.
Dick and Roy would stop by to see how he was doing but each visit was the same with Jason refusing his older brother and best friend entry as he held one of your plushies tightly against his chest. He knows they mean well but he just couldn’t find it within himself to hear the same thing he’s heard from everyone else; It just felt disingenuous after a while and didn’t feel as though people truly understood the impact that you had on him throughout your time together.
Jason would become more destructive with himself and going headfirst into danger without a second thought and damns his teammates for dragging him out by the scruff of his neck as he fights and kicks out of their hold. He doesn’t want to be saved! He just wanted to be with you again, why couldn’t they see that?!
After loosing you Jason becomes more prone to angry outbursts and often lets them out on the wrong person but he couldn’t care less at this point, his favourite person was gone and he was left back where he was before you.
Lost and deeply afraid.
Tim would retreat from everyone and everything by cooping himself into his room, rarely to come out.
He’d rather rot in his bed and on his phone, looking through all the photos you’ve taken together and seeing just how happy you both were, all the while a pit in his stomach grew at the thought of all the plans you’ve made but would never get to do.
He hated how easily he gave you his heart and hated it even more at just how easy it was to loose you that he wishes that he could stop himself from meeting you for the first time, just so he could selfishly save himself from the best moments of his life and the inevitable heartbreak he’d soon suffer.
Tim would do anything in his power to get you back but knew that it just wasn’t possible.
He knew Jason was given life by the Lazarus pit but he wasn’t willing to subject you to that even if he was held at gunpoint. He’d rather you rest in peace than force you to live with the knowledge that you should technically be dead.
Tim would remain in his room, wondering about the what ifs and the what could’ve beens if you hadn’t died. Would someone have taken your place? Was your death an unchangeable fixed point in time that was meant to happen?
He would only be reunited with you in his dreams where he has saved you and you had gotten to live out the rest of your life happily, rather then left for dead in an alleyway not too far from the place where you were originally going to meet up for date night.
Damian dedicated his life to getting revenge.
He had lost the light in his life, so why should he think his adversaries should live when you weren’t even given the option?
There will be more bodies pilling up on the streets of Gotham at a faster rate than normal whenever Damian is on patrol, much to Bruce’s dismay.
His anger and grief was all consuming and that left little to no room for logic to make him stop and see what he was doing was no better than the thing that took you away.
Life was black and white for a long time for Damian and you were the colour.
You were the air he breathed and without you he was gasping.
He knew about the Lazarus pit in his grandfather’s possession and its mythical properties and how it gave Jason a second chance at life. However he was at a cross roads on using it for his own selfish gain, on one hand he could have you back and everything would be fine again, but on the other hand you wouldn’t be the version of you he fell in love with…
Damian didn’t know what to do. The grief, the anger, the sadness…it was all too much for him. He felt as though he apart of him was missing and he would never get it back, it just wasn’t possible.
Bruce feels as though nothing has changed since his parents death.
He may be older, faster, stronger and wiser but that didn’t mean nothing in the face of death, and your death only proved that to be true as he held you in his arms, holding you close to his chest as he quietly sobs into your cold neck.
Much like Tim, Bruce doesn’t take care of himself anymore and it was up to Alfred to make sure that he doesn’t keep over and die unexpectedly.
‘They wouldn’t want this for you sir.’ Alfred would say as Bruce slams his hands down on the surface of his desk. ‘And what would you know that they want for me Alfred, y/n’s dead and it’s my fault.’ He would bark and bare his teeth at the only father figure he had in his life, a father figure whom has seen this expression bore on the young master’s face more times then he could count, but it still hurt him to see Bruce in pain and heartbreak.
‘They would want you to take care of yourself, sleep proper hours, eat full meals, shower, reach out to anyone,’ Alfred began to walk towards Bruce and place a hand on his shoulder, where he could practically feel the unbridled anger and pain radiation through him that he kept under control. ‘They wouldn’t want you to wallow in pain alone, Gotham needs you.’
‘And I needed them.’ Bruce replied sharply, aggressively wiping his eyes with his hand as he looks over at a framed picture of you that he always kept nearby. ‘All I wanted was them.’ He adds softly this time as he looks at Alfred, lost and confused at what to do now that his anchor was gone. ‘I miss them so much Alfred.’
Alfred brings Bruce into his arms, much like he did when he lost his parents, when he lost Jason and now you, allowing him to burrow his face into the Butler’s shoulder and softly sob into the fabric. Alfred felt his heart break even more as he rubbed Bruce’s back in an attempt of bringing him comfort. ‘I know master Bruce, I know, but you’d be doing their memory a great disservice by destroying yourself.’ The older man started as he looked over at the framed picture of you and smiled soberly, you were a beacon to Bruce and Alfred wasn’t afraid to say that he viewed you as his in law with how happy you made Bruce and that was all Alfred could ever want for him.
Now that you were gone, Alfred couldn’t help but feel that the manor got just that little bit lonelier without you.
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cherry3sblog · 17 hours
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Yandere! Damian Wayne hc
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Yandere! Damian who started by just watching you from across the class room as you laugh with your friends
Yandere! Damien who will follow you home after school to make sure you get home safe(and make sure you don’t talk to anyone else)
Yandere! Damien who in a effort to become friends with you studies one of your hobbies so he could talk to you about it(which he discovered from hacking into your phone and seeing anything you look at)
Yandere! Damien who knew you had to be his when he saw you feeding a stray cat on your way home
Yandere! Damien who will manipulate any of his family who say what’s he’s doing is wrong, using the excuses of ‘but I love them’ and ‘if you cared you’d let me keep watching them’
Yandere! Damien who will join any after school clubs you’re in even if he hates them(you like theater? Perfect, he will get the role of whoever your love interest is)
Yandere! Damien who asks to hangout when ever you guys can so you eventually feel safe at his house
Yandere! Damien who finally introduces you to his brothers after refusing to for months
Yandere! Damien who’s brothers slowly become just as obsessed with you as he is
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bunny-twirl · 3 days
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Y/N: *kisses Damian's neck*
Damian: What's this?
Y/N: Affection.
Damian: Disgusting.
Damian: ...
Damian: Do it again.
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honeyed-hedonist · 2 days
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Pairings: Aged Up!Damian Wayne x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Summary: You're always just a phone call away for Damian, so he calls when he needs you. And tonight? He really fucking needs you. Warnings: SMUT--MINORS DNI. unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, size kink if you squint, face slapping (once), oral (male & female receiving), orgasm control (kind of???), basically just 3k words of Dami tearing you apart in the best way. A/N: Hello again! Posting another old fic on mine. I still blame @heli0s-writes for sending me on a Damian Wayne spiral. I will never recover from this and it's all her fault. Enjoy :3
IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.
It’s late. It’s always late when he calls you—3am and you’re answering the phone, the pitch of his voice deepened and gruff with need. A need that only you can satiate. “Come over, darling.” You’re out the door before you end the call, hailing a cab to the manor, pulse racing because you know what’s coming.
The path you walk when you reach the gate is so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed, feet carrying you to the front door. There’s no need to knock or ring the bell, the second your shoes hit the porch Damian swings it wide open, the cowl stripped off, blackened liner still smeared around those beautiful green eyes. He’s looking at you like he wants to tear you apart, but you’ve always had an affinity for pretty, dangerous things. 
A step closer and you catch the way the warm light of the entryway bounces off of the thin gold chain hanging around his neck. It sparkles, and your mind conjures up the image of it swinging above your face when you’re folded in half on his bed. It makes you clench, taking another step while your eyes make the slow trek downward, his bare chest and rippling stomach that cuts to narrow, defined hips has your mouth watering. You know what they feel like against your tongue, beneath your fingers.
There’s no need for words, his calloused hand closing around your wrist to tug you inside, the heavy door shutting with a definitive click that reverberates off the walls and arched ceilings of Wayne Manor. He’s already hard, you can feel it when his arm snakes its way around your waist to pull you even closer. And then he’s crouching down, sweeping his other hand behind your knees to lift you into his arms.
You’re trapped in the heat of his gaze, the salty, earthy smell of his skin--still damp with sweat from his night spent in triple-weave kevlar. Fingers dance up the back of his neck, tangling into that silky, black hair, and his chest vibrates with something akin to a growl. It sends your pulse rushing between your legs, desire warm and heavy in your belly as he walks you up the stairs towards the master suite. 
The second you’re past the threshold, you reach for his face, wanting to feel his hot mouth on yours, but he doesn’t budge, the corner of his lips quirking in an amused smile at the whine that comes tumbling out of your throat when you try, and fail, to kiss him. “Patience, beloved.” Damian is gentle when he sets you down on the lush, thickly weaved rug that spreads out from beneath his bed, forefinger and thumb coming up to pinch your chin. His nose brushes yours when he speaks again, breath hot and sweet as it fans out across your face. “Be good.”
You watch with baited breath as he settles himself on the edge of the mattress, thighs spread open, palms flat against his knees, his posture perfectly straight. He looks like a king on his throne, and you’re prepared to bow at his feet. “You’re very overdressed, don’t you agree? Perhaps you should remedy that.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument, your hands falling to the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it hastily over your head. Your shorts are your next target, swiftly yanking them down your legs. Shoes, socks, and bra all join the pile of your discarded clothes after that, and Damian hums his approval. “Much better.” 
Lifting one of his hands, he points to the space between his feet. “Come.” There’s no hesitation from you, moving immediately with a step forward, but then he scoffs, eyebrows drawn down in admonishment. “Really, pet? Is that how you’re meant to approach me? As my equal?” His words make you short circuit, brain muddled with the fog of submission, because you will always submit to him--it’s not even a question at this point. He’s in charge, he owns you, and he knows it.
Dropping to your hands and knees, you crawl towards him slowly, eyes trained on his face, trying to read him--but Damian has mastered the art of impassiveness. His calves brush against your shoulders as you wedge yourself between his legs, the only sign of his pleasure is the tent in the front of his joggers and the rumbling in his chest. It’s enough--has you salivating from your place on the floor, eagerly awaiting instruction.
He leans forward, strong hand circling your throat, fingers tightening until he can feel the ripple of your swallow. “Have you missed me?” He asks, but you know better than to open your mouth, choosing instead to nod your head. Damian hums thoughtfully, free hand stroking at his slightly stubbled chin. “Hmm, I’m not sure I’m convinced. Why don’t you show me?”
“Yes, sir.” You answer, and he relents, releasing your throat to lean back on the bed, propped up with his arms extended so he can watch you--he’s always watching you--calculating, observing, learning. Damian Wayne knows all of the ways to take you apart, and all of the ways to put you back together again, but now he’s testing you, wants to see just how much you’ve learned since you began spending nights in his bed.
Shaking fingers dip beneath the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his thighs until the heavy weight of his cock springs free, slapping against the hard plane of his stomach with a dense thud. You moan, how can you not? He’s impressively large, perfectly curved towards his bellybutton, nestled in coarse, dark hair, thick and throbbing just for you. His head is shining with pre, glistening in the orange glow from the roaring fire in the hearth nearby. Your eyes meet, faux innocence batting up at him from beneath your lashes. But Damian knows better, knows how filthy you are, and he’s losing his patience.
You let your hand circle the base, tongue dragging a hot, wet line beneath his length until your lips close around the tip, precum tangy against your tastebuds. You moan again, eyes rolling back. The musk of his night perusing the city is still fresh on his skin, and he always tastes so god damn good like this. Dirty. Natural. It spurs you onward, his tip popping into the back of your throat as you take him all the way down. He reaches out after that, fingers gentle against the skin of your neck, his cock seated so fully inside the wet heat of your mouth that he can feel himself beneath your esophagus when you swallow. It makes him grunt, satisfied with your efforts.
It’s all the encouragement you need to move again, cheeks hollowed as you suck him off. The only sounds in the room are your labored breaths and the nasty, wet squelch of your mouth on his cock. Damian’s eyes are blown black, watching you like a predator tracking its prey, hand shooting out to curl into the hair at the crown of your head and shove you down until your nose is pressing against his taut abdomen. He holds you there, testing your limits, keeping you still, voice strained with his pleasure when he speaks. “Swallow.” He commands, and you oblige, whimpering while your thighs shift in an attempt to alleviate the ache in your cunt. 
“What’s wrong, pet? Do you want to cum?” Damian smirks at the desperate look in your eyes before he answers his own question. “Too bad.” He mocks your arousal, knowing all you really want right now is for him to fuck a hole right through you, but he needed to feel your warm, wet mouth first.  And Damian will never apologize for having his needs met, because he always reciprocates in kind. Especially with you.
He volleys with you back and forth, letting you have control before ultimately usurping you to fuck your face. When he’s satisfied, your cheeks are hot, the remnants of the mascara that you carelessly forgot to wash off is smeared down your face, and your chin is covered in your own spit as he yanks you free from his cock by your hair. “Tch--look at you, such a mess.” Damian’s free hand breaks the string of spittle connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick and smears it across your face. He’s not gentle, and you don’t want him to be, moaning open-mouthed when his palm cracks across your cheek. “Get up.”
Your actions are instantaneous, done without pause or thought, rising to your feet with his hand still fisted in your hair. He stands, too, spinning you both around until your calves hit the mattress and he shoves you backwards. You fall gracelessly onto his comforter, and he gives you no reprieve, no chance to catch your breath before he’s peeling your thighs apart to inspect your slit. Your panties are an encumbrance, one that has him growling as his long, dextrous fingers tear the fabric clean off, ripping them away to toss on the floor. 
He wastes no time, hands framing your cunt to peel your lips apart, leaning forward, he takes a deep inhale, the tip of his nose bumping against your throbbing clit. It makes you jolt, body bowing off of the bed, but his eyes cut to yours and you still immediately, knowing that he’ll stop if you don’t behave. “You have the most beautiful cunt, and she’s all mine.” Damian hums, mostly to himself, pink tongue slipping out of his mouth to circle your clit slowly. Your hands fist his expensive bedding, knuckles bone-white as he begins to work you over with his mouth.
He’s an expert at many things--knows over a hundred ways to kill a man with his bare hands--and can get you to gush against his mouth in a matter of minutes. Damian plays your body like a fine-tuned instrument, hits all the right notes to make you see stars. He curls those long, rough fingers of his against the velvet walls of your pussy, free hand applying pressure at your belly, while his plump lips suction against your pulsing clit. Barely two minutes in and you’re already hurtling towards bliss, whining and whimpering and writhing--all for him. 
“Dami, please!” You want your release. Want to cum all over his handsome face. He can feel it in the way your cunt grips his fingers, fluttering in time with the expert swipes of his tongue. He knows it’s only a few more licks until you’re careening into your orgasm. His eyes meet yours between the valley of your breasts, glittering with mirth as you cry out, begging shamelessly for him to let you cum. And then, like the menace he is, Damian releases your clit with a wet pop, effectively slamming you into a brick wall, your orgasm slipping right through your fingers with a pained cry.
Tears of desperation brim in your eyes and he tuts, rising to his feet, forearm wiping your glistening arousal from his lips and chin. “Do you have no shame? Begging like a common whore.” He’s on you in a flash, joggers discarded, fully naked as his hand once again finds your throat and he snarls above you. “Your orgasms belong to me, beloved. I decide when you deserve to cum, and tonight, you’ll be coming all over my cock. Do I make myself clear?” 
He expects an answer, but you’re transfixed, completely mystified by his overpowering, eclipsing presence above you. Damian makes you feel small. It fogs your brain, makes it hard to do anything other than mewl, thighs parting to accommodate his hips as he settles above you.  “Tch--useless little thing. All you’re good for is being my tight hole to fuck, isn’t that right, pet?” You nod, helpless and desperate beneath him, every nerve ending in your body thrumming like live wires. It’s a fact that he captializes on, slapping the mushroomed tip of his dick against your drenched slit, the wet sound that reaches his ears making him moan.
There isn’t a sound on Earth prettier than hearing Damian Wayne moan for you, your mouth falling open as you gaze up at him in awe. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to sluice the middle fingers of his left hand over your tongue. Ever the obedient pet, your lips close automatically, suckling as those same fingers push so far back they make you choke. Through your bleary eyes, you can see the sadistic smile that graces Damian’s face. It’s dangerous, and it sends a fresh rush of arousal leaking from your cunt. 
It’s almost like he can smell it, and he probably can, his irises disappearing until all that’s left are the whites of his eyes as he inhales deeply. There’s no warning, no preparation, just his gaze rolling back to meet yours when he snaps his hips forward with perfect aim, his cock stretching you open and filling you in a way only he can. It makes you scream, your back beginning to arch, but Damian is right there, pulling his fingers from your mouth to grip your throat and pin you back down against the mattress.
His pace is unforgiving. It’s brutal and deep, carving his way into your body with harsh thrusts that have the headboard knocking flecks of plaster off the walls until they cascade down like rain onto the comforter. “You. Belong. To me.” He spits it through gritted teeth, and it’s not something you’ll ever deny. Your relationship may be unconventional, but you wouldn’t trade it. Any time spent with Dami, to you, is a gift, especially if it means he’ll fuck you absolutely boneless in order to reassert his control on those nights when he feels like the world around him is spiraling. 
You take it all--every thrust, the gnashing of his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the suffocating grip around your throat, the drizzle of spit that falls onto your waiting tongue when he pries your jaw open. Anything Damian dishes out, you take without complaint, because while he craves control, you crave subjugation--the metaphorical yin to his yang.
Your voice is hoarse when you try to speak, breath stuttering with every powerful roll of Damian’s hips, barely heard over the lewd sounds of being fucked open. Each strike of his cock inside of you hits that spongy mound of tissue, dragging his silky, hot length against it with each withdrawal. It has you climbing right back towards your inevitable peek, the only question is-- will he let you finish this time?
“Dami--m’gonna--please, m’so close, baby.” You wheeze, and he smiles, teeth blindingly white even though the haze of your oxygen deprivation. You find some reprieve from the deliciously pleasurable pain when he finally peels his fingers back from your throat, hands sliding to your shins to fold them up and into your chest. His pace never lessens, he never slips out, following the bending of your body, the new angle allowing an even deeper stroke inside your gummy walls. It has you keening, hands clawing at his chest, his gold chain bouncing against the backs of your palms.
“Very well, I think you’ve earned it.” Reaching between your bent legs, Damian’s thumb slices through the lips of your cunt that are spread wide around his cock to seek out your clit. He’s precise, circling the aching bud in a way that makes you choke, throat vibrating with a squeal. You’re close again, rapidly approaching your release, so fast you can barely keep up, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable tightness. This time, when you meet his eyes, the malice is gone, replaced with what you can only describe as devotion. “Go on, make a mess on my cock, cum for me.”
That’s all it takes, his permission coupled with the expert swirl of his thumb and the perfect drag of his cock have you seeing stars, bursting with a cry of his name. You scream, back arching up, chest to chest with him as he cradles you close. “I know, beloved, I know. Let it all out.” He coos, still thrusting wildly through the resistance as your pussy tries to shove him out with each fluttering pulse. Damian can feel your cum weeping out around him, it wets his thighs, dribbles down the seam of his sack, drips down onto the mattress. It makes him groan, balls tightening as he reaches the point where he can no longer stave off his own release. 
With a low moan of your name he pumps into you once, twice--the third sending the first spray of his cum deep in your womb. You can feel the pulse of his length as he bottoms out with a grunt, forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your mouth. Jet after jet of semen coats your insides, filling you up so full it almost hurts. You whimper out, and Damian shushes you, cupping your face to plant a soft kiss against your lips. “Shh,” he murmurs. “You did so well for me, my darling. Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”
All you can manage is a hum, Damian’s fingers carding through your sweat-slicked hair as he peppers soft kisses over your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead. This has got to be your favorite part, because while he knows how to completely wreck you, he’s also right there to pick up the pieces and stitch you right back together again. 
He carries you into the bathroom, runs a bath for the both of you, coddles and keeps you close until the pair of you are falling into his freshly stripped bed beneath the sheets. His arm is slung snugly around your waist, his lips on the back of your neck as you settle in preparation of sleep. “I’d like you to move your things into the manor.” His voice is soft, there’s a hesitation there that is so uncharacteristic it nearly shocks you back from exhaustion. But again, all you’re able to offer him is a hum of acknowledgement, wiggling further into the warmth of his body, heavy eyelids closing as your consciousness wanes and you drift. 
You’ll tackle this moving in business when you’ve got a clear head and a full belly, but the prospect of taking the next step in your relationship with Damian brings you the most pleasant, peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.
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starboyjun · 1 day
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Batfam x reader based on Manwha isekai, reaction to reader being a saintess with powers
hihi im back lol !!
bruce wayne
i think bruce wouldn't be too shocked because bruce knows everything. he would be pretty protective over you since your powers can be taken advantage of easily. he would also try to limit your power usage, because he has a lot of enemies. he would also refuse your healing powers if you have any.
dick grayson
he would be fascinated by your powers, he has a lot of super-powered friends so he would ask a lot of questions. he would try to find more information about your powers to take care of you better. he wouldn't -like bruce- let you use your powers on him if you had healing powers.
jason todd
jason wouldn't like your powers at first. he would be wary but protective, kinda tsundere. i feel like he thinks he's abandoned by god so he doesn't really like anything to do with god. he also refuses your service of powers.
tim drake
i feel like he's like dick a lor, researching and asking questions about your powers. i don't really have much to say about him, hes just a curious little bean.
damian wayne
hes a little bruce, he is protective and he doesn't want you to use your powers on him, personally i feel like he thinks he's unworthy of being healed or protected by a saintess because he killed a lot or something.
alfred pennyworth
i feel like alfred is a catholic... is that canon? he would respect you like everyone else and ask you a lot of questions. he would treat you well.
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bomber-grl · 1 day
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Can I get number 7 with Damian? Perhaps Damián is teaching him to defend himself and guides him in his movements?
Prompt #7 guiding them with a hand on the small of their back
Recently you had a sparing session with Damian, no one else than your infamous boyfriend.
You had asked him to help you with training after your last spar.Especially since last time he helped you up from off the ground…
You were both currently on the training ground made somewhere in the Wayne Manor, made by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.
Because of your lack of skills Damian chose to fight you at first then used his observations to determine what you needed to improve on. So currently, he’s focused on teaching you specific skills to help you.
“Um Damian, you sure this is right..?” He had been showing you how to wield a sword since he was particularly skilled with it.
“Hold on” he then walked away from whatever it was he was observing and walked across the room to where you were currently stationed.
“Here let me show you” you stayed in place as Damian engulfed your hand that held the sword with his own and rest his other one on your lower back.
“Let me guide you” was the last thing he whispered before he showed you the proper ways to slash and when to do what certain scenarios.
As if that wasn’t a near death experience (from a heart attack) he proceeded to reassess your skills by doing a one on one spar match again.
This time he found other errors specifically with your stance.
He asked you to stay in place as he pressed his body against yours from behind.
He then began readjusting your stance and gave pointers on what you could’ve done to improve.
However, the whole time you were completely and utterly distracted by your boyfriend-
Who, 1. Was practically on you, 2. Speaking straight into your ear, and 3. HES YOUR BOYFRIEND
“Hey what’s wrong?” It seems he caught onto your lack of focus.
“Oh nothing! I was just thinking on how to uh- improve!” You gave some half assed excuse that he was most likely not going to believe.
“Really? Then why’s your heart beating so fast?” Geez he didn’t have to have the shit eating grin on his face.
“Cuz I’m exercising duh” even if he was smart as hell and was an ex assassin, let’s hope he bought ur lies this time.
“Mhm sure” he began walking away as if he had won the whole teasing wars between you two.
But you had one thing he didn’t know, you knew his secret.
“Shut up Jason literally sent me a video of you crying because you wanted to see me after you got your wisdom teeth removed!”
He was so caught off guard he started coughing and almost tripped.
Damn it’s a relief you won this battle..
If Damian sent a very angry text to Jason, no he didn’t.
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employee-church · 18 hours
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https://erica-518.ludgu.top/al/1oBNZU8
https://erica-518.ludgu.top/al/1oBNZU8
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nottherealmarsh · 2 days
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people are debating about Damian's skin/eye color *
me whenever seeing Damian in every shape: beauty here, beauty there, beauty everywhere~
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c1nnam00n · 1 month
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me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines
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Jason: I accidentally poisoned one of our drinks, but I don’t remember which one
Dick: EXCUSE ME-
Damian: With the way this gala’s going, I hope it’s mine
Tim: *chugs his drink*
Bruce: *quickly takes Y/N’s drink before she can do the same*
Y/N: Aw man :(
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orionremastered · 3 months
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could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep
this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have
Masterlist
Oblivious
Dick Grayson
The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.
Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.
"What are you doing here?"
The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Where is he?"
You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.
"He's grocery shopping."
"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.
Jason Todd
A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.
You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.
"What are you doing in my house?"
The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.
"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."
"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."
Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.
Tim Drake
Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.
After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.
You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.
The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.
In your bathroom.
"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"
"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.
"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."
"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."
"You never told me that," you say.
"It's a recent thing. Sorry."
You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.
Damian Wayne
"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."
Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.
When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.
You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.
Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.
"Oh. Oh."
It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.
It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.
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issdisgrace · 4 months
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Batdad Y/n: When I was like 18 I did coke off a stripper’s abs
Jason, Dick, Tim and Damian: WhAT
Cue Bruce shaking his head because he was there when you did it
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bunny-twirl · 10 hours
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Y/N: I hate you.
Damian: Wow, guess what? I hate you too.
Steph: (Narrator Voice) They want to kiss each other so bad.
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kimjun · 11 months
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Y/N: We need to get through this locked door. Bruce, give me your credit card.
Bruce: Here.
Y/N, pocketing it: Thanks. Jason kick down the door.
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superhero--imagines · 7 months
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He’s literally obsessed with you - With the Bat Boys
A/N: trying out these fucking ugly banners again because y’all seem to like them and I need the internet-good-writer validation points.
Dick Grayson
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* He’s a simp bro
* Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he isn’t hiding a whole horde of daddy and mommy issues isn’t into you
* He trails after you like a lost puppy and he would kiss the ground you walk on if it didn’t make you a little concerned
His breath brushes against your calf, a tender kiss placed on your knee.
He’s done this enough for you to know it’s not sexual.
“I can do it myself Dick,” you murmur, cheeks hot as you watch him kneel on the ground, his nimble fingers working to untie your shoes.
“I know you can.” His eyes sparkle when he looks up at you with a smile. “But I want to do this for you.” He grins when you hide your shy smile behind your hand, setting your shoes to the side and placing a soft kiss on your ankle.
Jason Todd
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* He’s in between terror and bliss
* Jason doesn’t understand how you meant so much to him so fast
* It’s simultaneously thrilling and terrifying how much you occupy his thoughts and time
* But for better or worse, he can’t seem to let you go
He can’t tell what’s warmer, the heat from your body or the heat radiating off from his face.
Here he is, face bright pink with the heart of a sixteen year old boy in a man’s body, falling in love for the first time.
And you’re asleep.
You’ve turned his whole world upside down, and made a mess of his mind—and now you’re getting the best sleep of your life using his chest as your personal pillow.
And he has no room to complain since he’s enabling you, wrapping his arms around you rto keep you pressed securely against his chest.
Because the only thing scarier than holding you close, is having you somewhere he can't reach.
“I can't believe you made me fall in love like this,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your hair.
Damian Wayne
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* He really embodies “hard to the world, but soft for my girl” vibes
* This man has never done a chore in his life, but if you’re feeling out of it or overwhelmed, watch him at your doorstep with a broom and apron
“Damian I support you in anything you choose to do,” you start, “but do you know how to use a washing machine?”
“Of course I do my love, I’m not a savage.” But the fact that he’s putting dish soap in tells you otherwise.
He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.
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