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hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months

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.⋆｡You're Gonna Go Far｡⋆.

Batsis!reader

We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost

Warnings: older sister syndrome, angst, mentions of Jason’s death (seriously Lou not every fic), hurt/comfort, all platonic

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

The letter in your hands felt far heavier than the small envelope of papers should have felt. You knew already what it said, what it meant and by god it was tempting to just shove it into your desk drawer and forget about it.

But you couldn’t forget, not when the words inked on those white pages meant that you could finally follow your dreams. Your thumb traced along the emblem at the top right corner of the letter as you read over the excited paragraph of acceptance yet again. It was a spur of the moment thing, a brief lapse into insanity when everything got to be too much and now, the consequences had come.

Could you go? Could you really leave all this behind and do the things you’ve always wanted to do? The seed of hope began to sprout in your chest, slowly weaving through the years of responsibility and obligation you had used to bury it as deep as you could.

But then, you heard muffled arguments through your bedroom door, seeping in like a thick fog. It brushed against your feet, sending a freezing chill through your body. It licked at your fingertips until you couldn’t stand the cold.

Quickly, you shoved the envelope and the letter into the bottom of your trashcan and stood. “What are you fuckheads fighting about this time?” Your siblings responded with more shouting and as you left your bedroom, you doused that little bit of hope with the poison of your duty.

——————

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” The question hung in the stale air for a moment, looming over you as you worked on sharpening Damian’s favourite sword. Your father was sitting at the massive wall of screens, wearing all of his uniform except for the cowl. A pensive look on his face, he seemingly couldn’t meet your eyes.

“A dinosaur cowboy rockstar.” You snipped back. The letter flashed through your mind but disappeared quickly enough with another pull of the blade against the sharpening stone. Bruce’s brow furrowed.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You sighed heavily through your nose as your shoulders tensed with the blowout that was about to happen. His eyes pierced into you, watching you with that same bit of intensity they had the first time you donned the Robin suit.

The leather hilt of the blade creaked with the strength of your grip and the cave settled into a tense silence. But you couldn’t feel that anger that you used to when he asked that question any time before, all you felt was that overwhelming, devastating sadness of what your life could have been.

The first time was when Dick left; Bruce wanted comfort, to know that what he had condemned you and your brother to do was right. You had swallowed down that anger, the urge to scream at him and blame him for everything in favour of telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. “I’ve always wanted to help people and being Robin was the best thing I could be.”

It was after Jason’s funeral when he asked next. Your eyes were still swollen with your tears, your shirt ruined from where Dick had been clinging to you and the bruises from the explosion that took your little brother not yet healed. You had refused to answer him, just telling him to get some rest and that the mantle of Batman would be yours until Alfred determined him fit for the field once more.

You supposed this time had been brought on by Tim’s departure to college barely a week ago. The house was noticeably dimmer without the boy genius and it had quite obviously been affecting your father. You nor Dick or Jason ever got the chance to go to college so it was a massive change.

The bite of your nails into the palm of your hand brought you back into focus where your father was watching you, unblinking. Bruce was a patient man, you’ll give him that.

“Why exactly does it matter? I have a job to do here- protect my brothers, protect the city, protect you in that order, just like you taught me.” His flinch was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye but you were far from untrained.

“Is that really what you want out of your life?” He was probing for something and you didn’t really care. The blade slid easily back into its sheath as you approached the wall of weaponry behind you.

“What I may want isn’t relevant here, I’m doing what I can- is that enough for you?” With more force than necessary, you slammed the sword into place, turning your back on your father. “I have shit to do, call me if you need backup.”

——————

You had been avoiding your room like the plague for three days now. Each time you stepped foot in there, all you could think about was the letter and how the deadline for the offer was drawing ever closer. The easiest solution would just be to throw it out or even calling the university to tell them that you were declining their offer but the easy way of doing things was not your style.

Instead, you started staying up all night and crashing on the couch whenever you needed a power nap. You weren’t dense enough to think that your family hadn’t noticed your change in behaviour but they at least didn’t mention it and you were grateful for that.

“Hey Dams, I need you for a second.” Ever eager to avoid his homework, your youngest brother perked up, his undivided attention now firmly on you. You chuckled softly. “Can you go grab my charger from my room, it should be on my desk.”

“Tt, so forgetful.” He muttered but obeyed anyway, leaving you smiling softly as you returned to your book.

You hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until it was Jason that strolled into your father’s office. Still donned in his leather jacket, hair still damp from the rain that had only just started, he looked like a mess. “I thought you vowed never to come back.” You quipped.

“Har har, you’re still annoying as shit I see.” But even with his harsh tone, Jason plopped himself next to you on the couch and leaned his head on your shoulder. “Are you ever gonna get outta here?”

Your eyes flicked to your not so little brother. “Why is everyone asking me that, I mean if you want me to move out, I can.” You brushed off with a laugh.

“You don’t have to stay y’a know, you can go if you want. No one would be angry at you.” Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. That little seedling of hope began to come back to life once again, tentatively putting out roots.

“Where would I go Jay-bird?” He shook his head, forcing his face into your neck just like he would do when he was little.

“Anywhere, somewhere far from here.”

“But then who would be around to protect you Robins hm?”

“We aren’t little anymore, we can take care of ourselves.” You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Before you could respond, the office door opened once more and most of the rest of your family filed in.

Each of them looked haunted and almost withdrawn, save for Damian who angrily stomped over to you, and shoved Jason off of you so he could crawl onto your lap. “Who died?” You let your youngest brother wrap your arms around him as you made eye contact with your father.

But it was Dick that stepped forward, a piece of paper in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice shook with that unique mixture of rage and heartbreak that it seemed only he could perfect. The paper trembled in his hands, making the embossment at the top visible.

You poked Damian on his side. “I told you to stop looking through my stuff, you little shit.”

“Couldn’t find your charger.” He responded indigently, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“This is a big deal miss, not just anyone gets into this university.” Alfred, ever the peacemaker, laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “You should have told us.”

“It’s nothing, it was a lapse of judgement. I wouldn’t leave you all.” You brushed off but evidently, that wasn’t good enough for anyone. Dick and Jason scoffed while Bruce just looked like he was about to cry.

“You could go, leave this place and you’re giving it up for some idea that we need protecting? That’s fucking stupid.” Jason shoved himself away from you, angrily rising to his feet as he ran a hand through his hair. “You have a real shot here.”

“Is that what this is, some kind of fucking intervention? My life is my own thank you very much, I don’t need all of you telling me what I can or cannot do.” You tried to pry Damian from you in some vain attempt to get away from the conversation but that sneaky shit had dug his fingers into your shirt so tightly that there was no way you were getting him off of you without ripping off your shirt.

The roots were taking hold and it made you feel like shit. Who were you to leave this all behind when it could so easily be ripped away from you? You were needed here, your purpose was here not at some college where you couldn’t be there to protect your brothers.

“We’ll be ok, you can go.” You shook your head, biting back tears that were already building. Bruce came closer, taking your face between his hands. “I have put too much on you, I should have realised long ago. I’m sorry Birdie.”

“You haven’t called me that since I was 12.” Your father laughed sadly.

“Oh my girl, I haven’t been a good father to you have I?” His calloused thumbs wiped away the tears that you hadn’t realised were now steadily rolling down your full cheeks.

“You were never a good dad.” Jason scoffed which was quickly followed by a yelp as Dick elbowed him in the stomach.

“They’re having a moment.”

“I put so much weight on your shoulders, it was my job to protect all of you but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job at that. This shouldn’t be your dream, you deserve to make a life for yourself without having to worry about all of us.” It was so strange to see your father laid so bare in front of you, freely admitting his mistakes. “You deserve so much more than this.”

You looked at your brothers as if they would give you some excuse to stay, to reject that offer but their faces remained stern if not a little sad. “You can go sis.” Dick nodded.

“You’ve done more than enough for us, I think it’s time that we pick up the slack.” Jason bumped him with his shoulder and gave you a big grin. “Besides, I think it would be nice for you to actually have a social life instead of nagging us all the time.”

Alfred spoke again. “I believe what Master Jason is trying to say is that we won’t hold you back from chasing your dreams. In fact, we are actually quite proud of you.”

A solid weight against your chest brought your gaze back down to the youngest of the group. “Damian?” You knew that boy was incredibly attached to you and would take some kind of issue with you leaving to go study somewhere else.

“If you don’t go, I will never talk to you again.”

“Well I guess that settles it.” You said thickly, struggling to speak through the lump in your throat. “I’m going to college!” Bruce didn’t hesitate to scoop you into his arms in a hug so tight you felt your ribs creak. Damian whined a slight protest but made no move to slip out from your arms.

“Good because Tim already accepted the offer for you, you start in a couple months.” As your laughter filled the room, the hope in your chest blossomed, casting your guilt and pain into the shadows of its petals.

[Verse 1] The only time I got to praying for a red light Was when I saw your destination as a deadline "This is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine" Making quiet calculations where the fault lies This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Verse 2] The college kids are getting so young, ain't they? They're correcting all the grammar on a spray paint And I even gave up driving after nightfall I got tired of the frat boys with their brights on This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Pre-Chorus] It makes me smile to know when things get hard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll bе far from here And, while I clеan shit up in the yard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll be far, far from here [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creak The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever We sure will [Verse 3] We're overdue for a revival We spent so long just getting by That's the thing about survival Who the hell— who the hell likes livin' just to die? You told me you would make a difference Well, I got drunk and shut you down It won't be by your own volition If you step foot outside this town But it's all we've had For always [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creek The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever [Outro] You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far Yes, you are (Ooh-ooh) If you wanna go far Then you gotta go far

All works

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@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @certifiedhunter @qardasngan

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 7 months

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Dips and Valleys | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x afab!female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.5k

✦ request — I was wondering if I could request a older Damian Wayne x Plus size reader nsfw? Which would be that they are experiencing some new foreplay with Damian being the sub for once by being tied up in a chair getting teased real well to the point he doesn't make it. It would be funny if Damian had enough of her teasing and skillfully untied those ropes and well... become his dom self and had his way with her

✦ warnings — nsfw, switching, teasing, chair bondage (male receiving), brief marking (male recieving), cum play, cum swallowing, fellatio, unprotected sex (please don't do this), vaginal sex, implied creampie, aftercare.

✦ MINORS DNI

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Damian was still for once, looking up at you with feigned patience.

There was something about him being tied up to your vanity chair specifically that got to you; something somewhat primal, possessive to an extent.

Tracing the dips and valleys of his toned body, something you have done countless of times before, felt new this time around that he couldn't touch you back.

You had thought about this before, about what it would feel like to have him at your mercy like he often had you at his.

Damian looked so pretty, gazing at you through his lashes, sighing in pleasure as you touched him. The look suited him, almost everything did.

He shuffled as a reflex, so used to touching you that he forgot he was tied up until the silk around his wrists reminded him so.

But he didn't complain, he liked pleasing you a little too much. And you knew he was curious.

Leaning in, you kissed him just because you missed his lips, hands firm on his shoulders. He twitched; once again reminded that he wasn't in control, that he would have to wait until next time to get his hands on you.

He let out a desperate whimper, boosting your ego and encouraging you to kiss him more firmly, to indulge him by letting your tongue slide past his full lips, purposefully dragging your hands down his chest.

Damian tried to push himself forward, attempting to kiss you just the way he liked to. You couldn't help but giggle against his lips, relishing on his desperation so much that you feared he might have created a monster.

"Stop teasing," he demanded in a poorly-hidden whine.

He sounded delightful. His accent always came out richer when he was aroused, but the lilt of his neediness could easily become your favorite.

"Will you beg me?" you lightheartedly asked against his bottom lip.

Damian shook his head yet didn't dare to remind you that he never begged.

The outline of his cock was clear, straining his underwear. You almost felt bad for him; that was until you remembered every instance he had teased you until you couldn't take it anymore.

You brushed your knuckles against his clothed cock, pressing your lips to his jaw. His cock twitched.

Damian cursed under his breath, nuzzling his face against yours as he tried to get you to kiss him again.

Resting both your hands on his thighs, you pushed your body onto him, lightly pressing your lips against his. He parted his mouth, but you didn't kiss him.

He said your name, attempting a warning tone that came out desperate. It made you giggle which earned you a pout.

Because your intentions weren't to neglect him, only to tease him, you dragged your lips downward, finding compromise on his neck. Damian started grunting the moment your hands started moving up and down his thighs, lingering upward but away from his crotch.

You would have thought it was harder for you than it was for him if it weren't for his squirms and sighs.

Not giving in to the urge to kiss him until his lips were swollen was pure torture when he sounded so desperate, when he looked at you like he needed you.

"Why do you..." he trailed off, exhaling through his mouth as yours licked up his neck.

"Why do I what?" you asked, amused.

Damian didn't answer immediately, prompting you to kiss the shell of his ear down to the earlobe. With a shudder, he gritted his teeth.

Reaching the inside of one of his thighs with your hand, you rubbed up and down as you mouthed at his neck, trying not to smile as Damian wiggled to get you to touch him where he wanted.

“Patience,” you said against his skin. Your voice lacked the command his carried when he demanded patience from you, but you didn’t seem to need it to have an effect on him.

He opened his mouth to say something, you heard —and felt— it in the inhale he took, but you didn’t let him speak as your hand made full contact with his crotch. Palming his cock, you took a couple of steps backward to lower your mouth to his collarbones.

Damian choked out a loud groan, throwing his head back. Just when you thought he would simply let you have your way with him, he canted his hips upward to force more contact.

You kissed his chest, trying not to giddily laugh on his skin as he once again sought for more friction. Trailing kisses down his torso, you slowly caressed him from on top of his boxers, feeling the rumble of his impatient sounds.

Eventually, you kneeled between his legs, hands on his hips as you littered kisses all over his thighs. Damian’s breath grew ragged and it hitched when you gave his clothed cock a kiss.

Parting your lips, you dragged them along his length. He was painfully hard, and you were embarrassingly aroused. You rubbed your face against his cock, bringing a hand down to pet him so you could go back to kiss his thighs.

Damian moaned when your teeth scraped his left thigh, cock pulsating under your touch.

“You sound so good,” you praised without thinking, wet lips almost flush against his strong thigh. A thought occurred to you. “Can I mark you?”

“Fuck,” he growled. “You can,” he consented, breathless.

Your hold on his cock tightened as you attached your mouth to his skin, suckling until you were sure his skin would bruise just to lick the fresh marks. He drove his hips forward, rutting against your touch.

Your name dropped from his lips, strangled, and you felt his cock spasm as he came. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, admiring his mouth parted and brows furrowed.

Damian’s chest heaved up and down as he recovered his breath. It didn’t take him long to go back to his silent inhaling and exhaling.

In a swift motion, he undid the silk rope around his wrists and grabbed you by the face as he stood up.

“Clean up the mess you made,” he softly instructed.

You nodded, bringing your hands up to his hips to pull his boxers down. Damian’s cock slapped free, covered in cum and half-hard.

Tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, he said, “Don’t use your hands.”

You whined.

“It’s only fair,” he reminded you, removing his thumb so you would do what he wanted you to do already.

You swirled your tongue around his tip, mixing his cum with your spit as you did so. Damian hummed in appreciation, moving his hand to the back of your head in encouragement.

His cum coated your mouth as you fully wrapped your lips around his cock. Slowly bobbing your head, you cleaned up every inch, used to the salty taste. You mewled, feeling his fingers slip into your hair, pushing yourself to take him all at once until your eyes became wet with tears and you choked a little.

He was deep in your throat, looking down into your teary eyes as you swallowed around his cock to assure him you were fine. His eyes glazed over, completely gone, unbothered by whatever had been troubling him that morning, fingers lazily massaging your scalp as you leaned backward, then forward, dragging your lips against him just the way he liked.

A part of you expected him to fuck your mouth, remind you of your place. But both of you knew he didn’t need to do such a thing, that your steady pace, his groans, and the sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat were more than enough.

Damian pushed you off his swollen hard cock. You licked your own saliva and his precum off, moving downward to catch his balls into your mouth which you found harder to do without being able to use your hands and without his guidance.

He tugged on your hair once, trying to pry you away from his balls and perineum. You gave his balls small pecks, coming back to his cock to do the same, making him moan loudly and obscenely.

“Enough,” he gritted out. “Unless this is as far as you want to go—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, moving away from his cock and gazing up at him.

Damian let out a breathless chuckle, helping you up. You reached for him, and he grabbed your wrists before you could touch him.

“Damian…”

“No touching.”

You pouted, but it didn’t tug at his heartstrings as you hoped it would. Instead, his hold on your wrists tightened.

Damian kissed the corner of your mouth and you hummed, understanding he was trying to ensure you were okay with it. Once sure, he latched his lips onto your neck, letting go of your wrists to explore your body.

“Wearing pretty lingerie just for me,” he mumbled.

You hummed again, this time in confirmation, fiddling with your fingers.

He walked you toward the bed, pushing you onto the mattress. “Hands to yourself,” he reminded you, using his own to part your thighs.

“Just…”

He cut you off by pushing your panties to the side, feeling just how wet you were for him.

“Don’t tease me,” you cried out.

Damian hummed, almost condescendingly so. His fingers explored your labia, up and down as he smeared all your slick.

“Damian,” you whimpered.

“Mmhh?”

“Please.”

He didn’t answer, too busy tracing your inner labia. Midway through his teasing, he changed his mind and pulled your lace panties down your legs, slowly dragging his hands over your skin on his way.

“Please what?” he finally acknowledged.

“Anything.”

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you, feline-like. You stared into his eyes, awaiting an indication that you would get something other than teasing. He almost smiled.

Running his cock along your folds, smearing your slick all over it, Damian told you, “I’ll stop if you touch me.”

“I won’t,” you said.

He gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe you, but he was kind enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

His cock pushed in with ease and he bottomed out so quickly you held out a slither of hope that he would just give you what you wanted. Things were never that easy with Damian, of course.

You had always loved the burn of his cock as he stretched you, and he had always loved knowing he was the only one who got to stretch you out in the first place. In some ways, he had molded you to him and yet this time he started with slow, teasing, strokes that had you hot in the face.

His strong hands grabbed at your sides as they often did. You slightly closed your legs, needing to feel him closer.

Damian’s hips pulled away from you only to slam back in without warning. You hummed, as if he needed any kind of encouragement. It took him a few thrusts to find a rhythm, hands coming down to your thighs as sounds of skin against skin filled your bedroom.

You ground your hips up against his, breath already uneven. You wanted to grab at him, to hold tight so he would fuck you as hard as you both know he wanted to.

He held your legs open, rolling his hips to push even deeper, driving you into the mattress. You cried out, partially in desperation.

“Let me touch you,” you shamelessly begged.

“Later.”

“I need to touch you now.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Please,” you whined, canting your hips up again although with more difficulty as his tight hold on your thighs made it easy for him to keep you in place.

Damian growled. “If you could hear yourself…”

His thrusts got rougher, hammering into you at a fast pace. His eyes were on you, and if you were anybody else you would have thought he was angry, but because you knew him well, you knew he was holding back from going too far.

He drew moans and whines from you like he was born to do that and nothing else, and a string of desperate curses when he slowed down to grind against you, hands kneading your thick thighs as he did so.

Leaning in, Damian pressed his face into your neck and let out moans against you, lips brushing your skin. One of his hands traveled up your body to reach one of your wrists, a reminder that you weren’t to touch him.

You almost cried, frustrated and so fucking close to coming that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The more you tried to come up with some way to convince him to let you touch him, the less things made sense to you. Not only was it hard to focus with Damian fucking you like the world would end if he stopped, but you could only think, ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop’ yet the only sounds that came from you were intelligible babbles and moans.

He kissed his way up from your neck to your ear. “Touch me,” he breathlessly commanded as he let go of your wrist. Your hands flew to his back, legs wrapping around his waist as he planted his hands on each side of your head. Damian propped himself up, pressing his lips to yours.

You gasped his name into his lips, digging your nails into his back. You were so unbelievably close that your entire torso was tense already, pressure coiling inside you as Damian’s cock throbbed against your clenching walls.

“Let go,” he told you softly.

Something about his tone drove you over the edge. As the tension inside you snapped and you came, he continued to thrust into your pulsing core, fucking you through your orgasm and prompting his.

Damian rested his head on your chest as he caught his breath, slipping a hand between your back and the mattress to hold you. In return, you ran your fingers through his hair.

He trailed soft kisses around the top of your breasts, sighing against your skin. “Blue looks good on you,” he said, in reference to the bra you were still wearing.

“Mhm. Knew you would like it.”

“I like everything you wear.” He shifted as he said it, hips rolling against yours.

“Wait,” you softly told him, “I’m sensitive.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” he assured you. “We need to change your sheets.”

“Five minutes.”

Damian relented, bringing his other hand up to your face. He caressed your cheek and asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Did I?"

"No."

"Let me see your wrists."

"Beloved, I am fine."

"Then let me see them."

Damian removed his hand from under your back and brought it close to your face.

There was a light burn on his wrist which you had known would happen the moment he had started wiggling. "Let's get that disinfected, yeah?"

"What about your five minutes?"

"I'm just a little sore, honey."

Damian kissed your jaw and pulled away from you. "I'll clean you up first."

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x plus size reader

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shivroysslut · 2 years

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can we talk about the bad representation that plus size people have??? In most fanfics the definitions of plus size are terrible and every time I want to read one (to feel identified) they are all fics with insecure readers who hate their bodies and are super submissive??? bitch I'm plus size and I love my body, I love my build and I'm not at all insecure because of who I am. And no, I'm not denying that there are insecure people, but fat people are always portrayed as people without self-esteem and ughhhh that's disgusting... LEARN TO WRITE PLUS SIZE PEOPLE CORRECTLY!!!

#peter parker x plus size reader #matt murdock x plus size reader #jason todd x plus size reader #bruce wayne x plus size reader #remus lupin x plus size reader #kaz brekker x plus size reader #pope heyward x plus size reader #dick grayson x plus size reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #nikolai lantsov x plus size reader #joel miller x plus size reader

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batfamluvr · 7 months

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Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

#yandere damian wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x plus size reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x female reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x oc #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you

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darlingdreamersworld · 1 year

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Jason Todd would have callused hands.

I think about that a lot.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x plus size reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #dick grayson x plus size reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #batfam #jason todd red hood #jason todd robin #jason todd x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne

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akairawrites · 8 months

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Can you do a jason todd x reader where they were friends pre death. and when he came back she tried defending tim from him despite being a civilian, and then they later reconcile and she confesses to him that she liked him?

I’m finally replying to this a year later and I’m so sorry! I’m more confident as a writer now. Before I felt as though I didn’t have the ability to fulfill your request, but now I do, so here you go.

Taglist

@ella-fella-bo-bella @ayoitsurfavdesigurl @luvvvjada @harleycao @aiq39 @420sprite @stvrfir3 @instabull @stvrfir3 @lumineliax @rukia-uchiha-98 @1lellykins @skyesayshi @imarimone12 @mysticalhills @deliciousfatblackcat @4arancia @bat-h-tic @luvelyxp @urmomsbananabread @strawberrycreamb @dollceesstuff

One day, a Teen Titan member called to inform you that Jason was in the Titan's tower. He had incapacitated the other Titans to protect Tim, and they believed you were the only one who could reach him. Without a second thought, you dropped everything and sprinted towards the tower, not even the pouring rain could deter you. As you entered the tower, your heart raced in anticipation. You hadn't rehearsed what you would say to him; you didn't have the time.

“When I died no one cared! No one remembered!”

His voice echoed through the halls, sounding different from when you were both fifteen, yet still sending shivers down your spine. You traced the voice to the Hall of Fallen Titans. Bursting through the double doors, you were overwhelmed with a gut-wrenching feeling as you saw him standing there, alive, while Tim lay bloodied and bruised on the floor, with Jason holding a knife menacingly over him.

The most heart-wrenching sensation surged within you as you laid eyes on him, alive and standing there. It instantly brought back memories of the day you learned of Jason Todd's passing. You recalled falling into Bruce's comforting embrace as he stood at your doorway, and the countless nights you spent yearning for Jason's presence. You even remembered the moment you realized you were in love with him at just fifteen years old.

“Jason!" His heart skipped a beat as he slowly turned to see you, the person he dreamt of reuniting with, not just through your bedroom window. Every moment you believed he was gone, he was right there with you. You cautiously approached, taking the knife from his trembling hands, letting it fall to the floor. "Jason," you said softly, uncertainty filling your voice.

Cradling his masked-covered face in your hands, you gently removed the mask, revealing the green eyes you had missed so dearly. Tears welled up in your eyes as you pulled him into a tight embrace, and he reciprocated, holding onto you as if he might lose you again.

He didn't want you to see him in this monstrous state he had become. Guilt consumed him for causing you so much pain over the past six years, even though he wasn't truly present.

“I cared, I remembered.”

⋆

A week later, Bruce finally granted you permission to visit Jason after everything that had transpired. He thought it best to give Jason some time to clear his mind. Alfred led you to Jason's room, and after a moment's hesitation, you knocked. Hearing a faint "come in," you entered and sat beside him on his bed.

He hadn't expected to see you so soon. "Bruce gave me the green light to come and check up on you. I wanted to see how you were doing," you explained, closing the door behind you. As he looked down at the floor, he sat up, allowing you to see the scars that covered his bare back. "I'm sorry," he uttered, gripping your hands as his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow.

"You don't need to apologize. I understand you were scared and angry," you reassured him. Jason wiped away his tears, gazing into your eyes. He moved his hand from yours to cup your face. "Nothing could ever change the way I feel about you."

You pushed aside any lingering anxiety, determined not to lose him again. "I love you, Jason," you confessed, giving him the confidence to pull you close, and finally, your lips met in a long-awaited, blissful kiss

Based on the comic

Add yourself to my taglist here

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battylovinstuff · 10 months

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#batfamily #batman x reader #batman and robin #dc batman #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne #red robin #richard grayson #red hood #jason todd x plus size reader #jason todd #tim drake #dc robin #dick grayson #dc comics #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne x batmom

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ms-nesbit · 1 year

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Casa Blanca

(a sequel to Blink; part of the Read It and Weep jason todd x reader series)

summary: It is reader's first appearance at the Wayne Manor, let alone a Wayne gala. A game ensues, followed by an interaction with Jason in the garden.

warnings: mentions of racism and the KKK, brief jealousy from Jason, and flirty Dick Grayson

words: 4.5k

note: jason is 23 in this series; i'm probably gonna write a third part to this, but haven't decided. if i did, it would be an ode to one of my favorite dramatic novels of all time.

AO3

Littered with conceited figures, the Wayne family - with the exception of Duke and Damian - entertained the affluent and powerful guests, easing the pressure off of Alfred and Bruce.The adoptive siblings played a game of Heads, in which the player with the greatest number of entertained guests - and fewest complaints - wins.

Dick, as charmed as he was, submitted the winning crown to his younger sister, Cass, who, for a reason she refuses to admit, wears a bubbly, charismatic allure that ensnared the unknowing (albeit selfish) company.

Yet most eyes were on Jason, his taller figure standing out from the crowd of wealth, with his arm draped loosely around y/n’s shoulders. He wore his signature ensemble: a black tailored suit decorated with patchwork of deep rouge; he knew, however, that his body and regard, or lack thereof, of the gala was not the fruitful topic of the evening; rather, the person under his arm, sporting a currant sweater dress, its turtleneck layering over her sternum and lower neck, barely catching the ends of her casually-kept hair.

Their lax appearance carried through the Wayne Manor as they strolled, unbothered by the glances (and few glares) from the visitors; Jason pridefully smirked, knowing how pleased he was with y/n’s dismissal of the dress code — as, past her dress, she wore black stockings, torn asymmetrically throughout, and tall black combat boots. Her face (bare with all but the smudged eyeliner) - along with her entire outfit, rebelled against the unspoken rules of the galas, disrespecting (and disgusting) some of the guests.

“Jason has a girlfriend?” one said.

“Not surprised. So trashy.” another spat, rolling his eyes.

And almost simultaneously, the Wayne siblings’ phones chimed (or vibrated), the groupchat exploding with outwardly suppressed emotions.

Spoiler Alert!: DUDE SHES HOT

Red robin (yumm): ikr

Dickhead: don’t harass her, please! We all know how rare it is that Jay gets a girlfriend, so let’s please not scare her away.

Duke of earl: IM COMING DOWN RN STALL FOR ME

“Master Todd,” Alfred began, holding back a grin, “I see that you have a guest this evening. I do welcome you to Wayne Manor, Miss…”

“Y/n. You don’t need to call me Miss, Sir. It’s all good.” y/n smiled widely.

Alfred nodded. “Pleasure is mine, Miss y/n. I do hope that you enjoy your time here tonight, and if you have any questions about the lavatory, don’t hesitate - I know it can be easy to lose one’s self here.” he stepped out of Jason and y/n’s path, flashing a grin and approving nod at Jason.

As the crowd subsided its murmurs, the quartet’s music rose to the air, signaling y/n to offer Jason her hand. “May I have this dance?” her eyes glistened up at him.

“As you wish.” Jason replied, slipping an arm around y/n’s back as they began to sway together. They were unbothered by the occasional glances from nearby guests, staring at each other as the lights dimmed, chatter muted, and rouse subdued into a mere moment shared between them. Jason’s middle finger traced along some of the knit pattern on y/n’s back, humming along with the quartet’s tune.

“You know,” Jason smiled cheekily, to which y/n mirrored, “if you keep this up, they may kick you out of the mansion.” his brow twitched.

“Oh, my stars.” y/n rolled her eyes sarcastically, removing a hand from around Jason’s neck to press against her forehead dramatically. “What ever will I do without Bruce Wayne’s extravagencies?” As y/n finished her last word in a mocking Southern accent, Jason pressed his lips together to stifle laughter, his eyes shifting to look behind her.

“Jason, I see you have a guest with you tonight.” a male voice spoke seriously behind y/n, startling her as she jumped a bit and turned around to face the man.

Jason’s eyes flickered at y/n before quickly moving to Bruce. “Bruce, this is y/n, my…”

“Friend.” y/n innocently grinned, her eyes unmatching her overly warm tone. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Bruce stated, voice unwavering. “I just wanted to introduce myself before Jason’s siblings do. Seems that they have met you before.”

Y/n shook her head, puzzled. “I don’t believe so…I talked with this guy Dick over the phone, but haven’t seen anyone. Though I met Alfred, who’s nice.”

“Alfred has been with us for decades.” Bruce replied matter-of-factly. “I hope you enjoy your time tonight, y/n. Nice meeting you.”

“You, too.” y/n barely spoke before whipping her head back at Jason, eyes bulging and face reddened with embarrassment.

Jason chuckled, throwing his head back. “That couldn’t have gone better, oh my god.”

“Stop laughing, you infant!” y/n teased, still blushing. “You could have told me!”

Rolling his eyes, Jason remarked, “Trust me: you are much better than the last person I brought home, who ended up stealing some of Bruce’s valuable items. And Dick’s underwear.”

Y/n gaped at the tall man, stunned. “You’ve gotta tell me that story later, there is no way—”

“Hi!” a voice interrupted y/n mid sentence, drawing the couple’s attention. “You must be y/n!”

It was Tim, wearing an all-black suit and tie, height drastic from Jason. He goofily grinned, eyes energetic. “Y/n, this is Tim, my younger brother.” sighed Jason.

Y/n grinned kindly. “Hey, Tim, nice to meet you!”

As y/n and Tim chatted, Jason checked his phone, which vibrated continuously in his suit pants pocket.

Cass: has anyone talked to her yet?

Dickhead: bruce told me he met her. Apparently, she was mocking the gala and pissing off some of the guests.

Red robin (yumm): LMAOOO why am i not surprised

Spoiler alert!: sounds like my new best friend

Duke of earl: alfred told me he met her, too. He approves

Spoiler alert!: red riding hood’s found his mate?????

Jason let out an exasperated sigh as he finished the string of messages, catching Tim’s attention from the conversation with y/n. “Everyone’s pretty excited to meet her, Jay, what can we say?” he shrugged awkwardly.

“I think the feeling’s mutual. Anyone play games here with all these fancy parties?” y/n asked, drawing a laugh and affirmative nod from Tim.

“All the time. Usually to see how many people we can distract with small talk, but we used to play other ones - Jay, remember the one you used to play with Dick to see how many ‘kick me’ signs you could stick on people’s backs?”

Jason smiled mischievously. “Sure do.” he chimed proudly. “And once I kicked Commissioner’s ass, too. Bruce wasn’t too pleased with that one.” he recounted to y/n, who snickered in response.

“Serves him right for not giving the joker the chair.” she muttered under her breath, causing Tim to nudge at Jason suggestively. “But yeah, I’m down to play. Where is the rest of your family?” y/n asked Jason and Tim.

“Letting them know now.” Tim replied, texting on his phone.

Within minutes, each of the siblings trickled into view, introducing themselves to y/n, including a timid Damian and an even more shy Duke, who barely pushed a word out before choking on his gum and abruptly leaving. While this occurred, Jason drew small, delicate circles on the small of y/n’s back, reminding her that she wasn’t alone, despite his face growing more impatient with each sibling’s eager self-introduction.

“Which one is your favorite so far?” Jason leaned in to whisper into y/n’s ear.

Y/n shrugged. “I like them all so far. Nobody’s a dick.”

Jay chortled. “Well, here he is.” as his eyes pointed to a tone man in a black and navy-embellished suit, brushing his hair back. “Y/n, this is the dickhead you spoke to on the phone.” Jay smiled boastfully, pleased with his words.

“I’m Dick, but yes, it is nice to meet you in person, y/n.” he flashed y/n a genuine grin. “I’ve gotta say that I like how you shook the dress code up a bit. It looks good on you.”

Jason sharply exhaled through his nose, jealousy bubbling in the center of his esophagus. “Oh, hi, Dick. Weird that I’d be meeting you last out of your big family.” y/n treaded her words carefully, distancing herself from the overwhelming subject. “Tim told me you guys play a game. Would you mind if we all played something a little different? I don’t want to impose or anything.”

The corner of Dick’s mouth twitched, wanting to express sympathy. “Not a problem. What kind were you thinking? I think I can let everyone know and we could meet in the back garden.” he motioned his head to the double-doors beside the throuple, leading to a display of shrubbery and distant (and mindfully placed) wildflowers.

Jason’s fingers moved to hold y/n’s hip, giving her a quick squeeze as his eyes never left Dick. “I was thinking we could try to find out who has the best gossip out of everyone?” Y/n spoke uncertainly, cocking her head to the side.

“That actually sounds—”

“Great!” Steph chimed from behind the throuple, interrupting their conversation. “Oh my god, why didn’t we think of that?” she added, rather loudly. “I’ll send the text now and let everyone know. We’re about to rile some shit up, girl.”

After Steph trotted off, phone in hand, y/n beamed up at Jason, who returned the smile. “I told you they’d like you, Baby.” he purred, pulling y/n closer to him with the hand on her hip. “Besides, even if they didn’t, that would mean more time alone for us.” He flashed her a suggestive look, emitting a wave of goosebumps on y/n’s neck and arms.

Dick noticed the coquettish attitude on Jason, along with y/n’s flushed giggle, and excused himself. “I’ve got some things I gotta do, but I’ll be meeting you both out in the gardens, yeah?”

Y/n and Jason nodded, eyes still fixated with each other.

After Dick disappeared into the crowd, Jay moved his hand to rest on y/n’s other hip, bringing her in front of him to dance; his grip remained firm on y/n, as if afraid to find out if he let go, or if she would slip from his reach; y/n noticed this, but said, with a step closer to the taller man, and a finger twisting in the hair behind his head, that there was no need to worry — his fears were fictional, and in this moment, only his desire (to be held for no reason other than to care; to be gazed at without a trick upon her sleeve, or acicular disloyalty to be soon displayed) should be realized.

Jason’s breath hitched as he realized, again, how comfortable y/n remained with him despite knowing his identity. Surely, he thought, self-doubt waltzing in his conscious, y/n doesn’t know how bad it was.

But…she did. In fact, in the period between their first exchange in the dark alley and the following at Gomez’s, y/n utilized her connections to seek more information about the hooded shadow. It seemed as if the media disliked him through and through, regardless of his obvious aversion to harming the vulnerable, the innocent. And in those police reports, eyewitness accounts, intentionally hidden in (poorly) encrypted files, y/n felt more in awe than ever that such a ‘woeful’ being had a heart, a beating one pumping compassion and morality in a reality that lacked such a necessity.

Love is a strong word for y/n, though one she glossed over in studies, or in the tales in which she’d drown herself; she felt the heavy syllable rolling from her tongue effortlessly, smooth like top-shelf scotch. But the word was silent, a secret she had yet to reveal to Jay, and she, too, danced in trepidation, watching her footwork along the grass of glass shards;

He was once a story to her, a protagonist with adventures and feats under his belt that y/n only read about; The Tales Of Red Hood were the stories she’d fall asleep to on those nights, and the ones she’d retell herself during the daytime, eyes scanning whatever building he may live in (if he did). And the nights that he would visit her, to validate her sanity (and even bring a bit of safe tidings, if he allowed her).

“They look surprisingly good together.” Cass was half surprised at her own observation as she stared at the pair dancing in the other end of the crowd.

Steph dreamily sighed and nodded. “Don’t they?”

Nearly rolling her eyes to the back of her head, Cass stuck her tongue out in disgust. “So weird.”

“Right?” Duke popped out from…somewhere, as always. “I mean, how is someone actually into him?”

“And I heard she knew about Hood, too. They’re relaxed with each other, though. Haven’t ever really seen him this comfortable with someone.” Cass sadly added, looking away from the pair to distract herself.

—-

The Wayne siblings each excused themselves from the party to congregate outside in the garden. They met before the gazebo, “just past the phallic shrubs,” as Tim put it. The eight of them gathered in a rugged circle, awkwardly standing in silence before Dick spoke up.

“I explained this to everyone in the groupchat, y/n, but you came up with this great idea for a little—”

“Tournament!” Tim completed, with more enthusiasm than usual. “This is gonna be great, guys. I think we should split up into teams—”

“No way should we do teams, Restaurant Company.” Jason argued.

“Yes! Every man for themself!” Damian chanted, fists clenched.

Barbara sighed. “And woman.”

The group snowballed into an incoherent string of arguments, y/n indecisive as to which she wanted to pay attention.

Jason, concerned for y/n’s confusion, had enough. “Okay!” The bickering stopped abruptly, followed by an exchange of glances between Steph and Cass. “How about we let y/n explain herself?”

“Thank you.” y/n whispered to Jason. “I think we should do two rounds: round one will be teams, with the losing team disqualified; round two will be the winning team broken into individuals to compete for the win.”

“How should we pick teams?” Barbara asked.

“That’s a good question.” y/n agreed, pondering for a moment before answering, “People wearing cool colors should be team one, and people wearing warm colors should be team two.”

“You only did that so you could be on a team with your boyfriend!” Steph teased, causing a ruckus of dramatic “oooh”s.

Y/n admitted, “Yes, that is true. Would you rather I be on the opposing team? I mean, one could argue that this shade of red is cool.”

Damian corrected, “Actually, it is cool, and Duke and Dick are neutral shades—”

“But I think I’m okay being cool while Duke is warm, right?” Dick commented, awaiting Duke’s hesitant nod. “So it’s settled: Duke, Jason, Damian, Tim, and Barbara are on team one; y/n, Cass, Steph, and I are on team two. Sound good, everyone?” Everybody nodded, some appearing more displeased with their assignment than others. “Cool. Any questions?”

Damian raised his hand. “How do we determine what ‘gossip’ is good? Is there a tier system we should follow, or could you give us examples?”

“I actually thought that it would be based off of what would be most surprising about each guest.” Barbara frankly answered. “I mean, if, for example, the mayor’s wife turns out to be supporting something very progressive, then that would be a medium shocker; however, if the mayor himself admits to having been a drag queen before his political uprising, then that would be top tier, at least.”

“Really? I don’t see it to be surprising at all.” Steph commented genuinely.

Dick sighed. “If we don’t decide something, then we’ll be here all night. Whoever gets the most information without the use of any devices or aid from others, wins.”

The group accorded well to the decision, immediately dividing to either group. Before Jason left y/n’s side, he snuck a peck on her cheek, and a low “Let me know if you need anything, Loser.”

It drew a gasp from y/n. “Mr. Todd, are you insinuating that I will be defeated?”

“You are going down.” Tim motioned, chest puffed out in competitiveness.

The gang of siblings returned to the gala, dispersing among the crowd of socialites. Barbara rolled to a trio of policemen, inserting herself in the conversation about pursuit expenditures; her body language was cool, but interested, her shoulders back and hands at her lap as she listened.

“Jefferson, I’m sure you’ve finished the report by now. Captain is gonna be pretty pissed if she found out that you spent most of your time at parties…”

“...and clubs.” another colleague finished, his eyes motioning to Barbara, who was still listening astutely. “Your wife won’t be too happy about the ‘investigations’ at the Gotham Lotus.” Bingo, Babs thought to herself before waving to a woman, rolling away to move toward her.

Meanwhile, Cass and Dick attracted a crowd of guests, offering up stories while acting them out theatrically.

“...and Bruce told me we’re out of milk!” Dick finished, the crowd erupting in a cacophony of laughter.

As a few of the guests returned to their individual conversations, an older gentleman approached the pair, offering advice. “When I was your age, my mother was as rough as a storm. Now, she was around long before the great dust bowl, but she made sure she gave us a wallop if we were ungrateful.

“But on her deathbed,” the man looked down, eyes full of emotion, “she told me why she was the way she was.”

Dick nodded. “You guys had it hard during your time. My parents…before they passed, they told me stories. They had little snippets of the past like train tickets, ticket stubs, all that, but the truth really isn’t found as easily as it should be.” he crossed his arms, upset at his own words.

“And she wasn’t even mine. She took me in after the dust bowl.” the gentleman finished, voice wavering with age and remorse. He exchanged a brief moment with Dick and Cass, who both offered an embrace, before Dick walked him back over to his caretaker, the man still recounting tales to the taller aerialist.

At the children’s territory, Duke and Damian entertained the kids using their individual tactics: Duke played tea party with the girls, awkwardly hunching in a child’s seat as he was fed plastic salmon and broccoli as the girls flaunted their knowledge about their parents, one alleging that she “has two mommies, one that daddy doesn’t tell my real mommy about”; Damian chose to pursue information directly, bribing the children with candy or chocolate. He handed a skittle for each ‘truth,’ one boy earning five skittles by revealing that his cousin was a henchman for Poison Ivy.

As the grandfather clock struck ten o’clock, the Wayne siblings met back in the garden, as agreed upon, wearing broad smiles (or, in Jason’s case, a disgusted look, as one widow expressed her feelings for him). They naturally parted into their groups, facing each other as they waited for directions from Dick.

“So, we’ll all take turns talking. I have the noise level meter with me here - the higher the meter, the better the points. Who wants to go first?”

Placing the noise level meter directly between either group, Dick removed a notepad and pencil from his back pocket, drawing a t-chart and labeling one side ‘cool’ and another ‘warm’. He then turned his chin up at Damian, whose hand was raised, to begin.

Dick took notes as the LCD display of the meter counted the decibels of the group’s reaction, the static noise humming abrasively. He also, on a separate side of the pad, marked a tally for each time y/n and Jason exchanged glances. The tally was at fifteen before it was Jason’s turn to speak.

“So I found out a couple of things,” he began, blowing air from his teeth. “I don’t know how to really say this without sounding crass, but apparently Representative Smith had an uncle who was in the KKK.”

The meter shook with vibration as the group exploded at the bombshell. “What?!” Dick shouted, jaw dropping.

“And he invited me to lunch last year.” Duke huffed.

“I’m sorry. He apparently thinks that it was relevant in the conversation—”

Steph blurted, “What was it even about?!”

Jason, stoic, looked right at Steph. “Separation of church and state, which he’s apparently against in his coming political race.”

Again, the group bellowed, followed by a few iterations of curses.

“The only other thing was that the old hag, Ms. Stevenson? The one whose husband, a firefighter, died while saving someone from one of Joker’s arson attempts? She hit on me, and said, and I quote, ‘she could offer a better price than y/n has.’”

The bunch fell silent, eyes wandering over to y/n for a reaction. She stood, covering her mouth with a hand as she attempted to stifle a laugh. Her focus lasered in on Jason, expression amused and harmless before she lost control and erupted into laughter, breaking the tension in the garden. “There ain’t no way this geriatric patient said that to you.”

Jason gawked, visibly offended as he placed his hands on his hips. “Excuse me, Bookgirl, but I have suitors too, y’know.”

Y/n straightened her dress, completely silent as she felt the Wayne family’s eyes on her. She stalled for a moment, staring up at the stars absentmindedly, before crossing her arms in front of her and resting her weight on her right leg, her boot toe facing out. She ran her lip along her bottom lip and bit down on it as she finally said, “That why you followed me for a month?” in a condescending manner, her nose wrinkling. The group broke out in loud commentaries, Tim and Duke patting Jason’s large back jokingly before he gave each of them quick but icy glares.

Dick jotted down the decibels, a smirk apparent on his face. He then motioned his hands up and down, suggesting the group subsided their cheers. As the emotion subdued, Dick focused on his notes, adding up each count for a total from either group. When he finished (and double checked his math), he said, “I have the totals.”

The group stared at him in anticipation, and he announced, “Duke, Damian, Tim, Jason, and Babs — you are the winners of this round. Unfortunately for us,” he turned to his own team, “we were shy just 11 points. But you all did an exceptional job.” he smiled at each of his mates individually, giving y/n a warmer grin than the others.

Noticing the glance, Jason spoke out. “Y’know, as much as I like gathering intel from these rich snobs, I think I wanna dip. Dickhead, wanna have anyone take my place?” he added.

“Cass, you wanna take his place?” Dick immediately questioned, which received a feverish nodding from Cass.

Jason offered y/n his elbow for her to take, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Wanna take a walk with me?” he asked.

Y/n obliged, and the pair saluted the group, most of whom were already shuffling back inside to compete against each other for the crown (whatever it may be).

As the two strolled on the pebbled path, the moon shone down on them; it reflected off of Jason in particular, allowing y/n to see his features in the otherwise dark night before she turned her head to look at the intricate landscaping. Her hands’ grip tightened around his forearm, instantly reminding him of their first encounter; she did not notice, however, that his focus was on her, appreciating the beacon of moonlight painting her skin; her grin shone far greater than the moon, and each smile wrinkle that appeared on her cheeks as she expressed herself sparked a heat underneath Jason’s tailored suit, in his beaten and scarred chest, underneath the cosmetic wear. He wanted to carry her, watch y/n’s hair as it floated against the gravity - wretched gravity - wearing her down, but her attention was so pure as she examined the array of rose bushes and jasmine vines, stopping briefly to smell them in their dream state. He watched her as she looked attentively, paying mind to their delicate condition.

Before she realized Jason left her side, y/n turned to lay eyes on a white lily, plucked from its stem, presented before her. With a momentary gesture, y/n stood still as Jason tucked the lily safely on her ear, kissing her forehead. “ Lilium Casa Blanca; a casa blanca lily. It has different names, but it is one of the only varieties in this garden that blooms at night.” Jason informed y/n, standing right in front of her, her eyes at level with his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her, closing the gap between them as he held her in a firm embrace.

“I begged Bruce to plant more of these when I lived here.” he stated, chin resting on y/n’s head. “I used to stay up here late at night, unaccustomed to the living arrangement, and, I dunno. Kind of bummed me out that there were no night flowers. Coming here would be my solace — other than in the kitchen with Alfred, or my alone time in the library. And when I met Poison Ivy, she told me about some of the other things we could grow here.” He felt y/n’s body relax in his arms, smiling at the reaction. He opened his mouth to continue, but closed it again, wanting to relish the moment with her instead. Y/n’s hands tucked between them, resting on the poplin material covering his broad chest.

She was his solace, Jay hoped, as she curled herself on him; she was brighter than the stars that dared try to shine brighter than she; y/n was the gardener tending to her duties, and Jason the rosebush with prickly thorns admonishing her away — it wasn’t his fault that he sported such needle-prick thorns on his skin, simply a mechanism he developed as he evolved into adulthood. And just as he turned his petals away, shielding himself from the painful jab he expected, he felt water trickling down from above, looking to see y/n replenishing him. She wore her thickly insulated gloves as she handled him, unbothered by the thorns he donned, and realized: y/n knew. She knew of his condition, his development, but chose to alleviate his troubles, becoming a sanctuary for him under her touch.

I love you bore such immense vulnerability he didn’t dare share to anyone before; Jason was a stranger to this comfort, this safety, and was terrified of her leaving. Too wrapped in his thoughts, he was unaware that he spoke them aloud, into the chilled and naked night, and to y/n.

“I love you too, Jason.” she responded, smiling into his chest as she melted in his arms.

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cloudyzeusy · 6 months

Text

Typical Mornings ||

pairing: damian wayne X top reader

warning: smut

Damian was used to the quiet and peaceful mornings alone. And today was no different the rain in the background felt very relaxing.

Yeah it was quite lonely in his luxurious apartment but it was normal for him.

He made his usual cup of coffee in only his black underwear he was by himself after all so he doesn't bother. Grabbing the cup he made his way to his living room and was shocked by the sight.

"(m/n)! what are you doing here." He said happily he carefully placed the cup down before bounding over to hug his boyfriend of 4 years.

"Eh there wasn't much to do with my group so i came here early to surprise you. Plus we can spend extra time together." (m/n) smiled grabbing Damian's ass pulling him onto his lap.

Yes (m/n) was a villain but he only truly acted at night in his day to day he was a normal person who dated the famous Damian Wayne.

"Thats the first thing you want to do after we don't see each other for days?" Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Its my favourite thing to do with you, who can blame me with this ass of yours." He smirked lifting damian up carrying him to his bedroom.

Damian giggled letting himself be carried gleefully he was gently placed down on the bed. He watched as (m/n) undressed from his dark clothes and bit his lip.

"I missed this view."

"Yeah? and i missed fucking you." He hummed grabbing the lube and spreading some on his cock.

"Do i need to prep you?" (m/n) said taking off damian's underwear

"W-wait." He said trying to stop him as he remembered what laid underneath.

"You are wearing a plug? how naughty."

"What! i get horny too just hurry up and fuck me."

''As you wish." (m/n) smiled

He took out the plug and slowly entered himself in groaning at the immediate tightness. He waited for a bit to get Damian adjusted to his size before thrusting in pressing against his prostate.

"Shit you feel so good." Setting a constant pace inside Damian he had him in doggy making it easier to fuck him. As he grabbed Damian's hair pulling him back making him fully take the dick.

Damian could nothing but moan as he was fucked to an inch of his life cock leaking precum. He was too pent up and felt himself getting to his release already he tried to stop it but the stimulation felt too good it was the first time getting fucked in weeks after all.

"ngh ahh agh ugh."

"Its too mu-much." Damian whined.

"You can take it." (m/n) replied slapping his ass before jerking him off.

"mhm im gonna cum." Were his last words before he orgasmed eyes closing as he collapsed to weak to hold himself up. Despite this his boyfriend kept going using him as a fleshlight to get himself off. He was too fucked out to complain as he kept coming over and over.

"Maybe it was better when his boyfriend left. " Damian thought to himself as he finally felt his boyfriend tense up inside him reaching his orgasm.

"We should do this again." (m/n) whispered in Damian's ear .

"Fuck no!"

@wanessaferreira677

#zeusy☁️#dom male reader #damian wayne #top male reader #sub character #nightwing #batman

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clangrogu · 2 months

Text

DC x Reader Fic Recs

It Got Worse by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, F!Reader, Wayne!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bruce is overprotective)

Office Crushes by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, SFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega!Reader, Plus size!Reader, Slight angst, Protective!Clark)

Playground Chaos by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, GN!Reader, SFW)

At the Stitches by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, Black Widow!Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader has magic)

To the Paparazzi by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slight angst, Body shaming, Mild swearing, COVID-19 mentions)

Keep the Doors Locked by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader F!Reader, NSFW, Smut, Getting walked in on, Bi!reader mention)

Just a Couple More Minutes by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slightly Suggestive)

Illegal by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Batmom!Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implication of smut, Puberty mentions)

What Is A Mother, But The Woman Who Loves Us Most? by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

I Have Too Many Children by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implications of sex)

I’ve Finally Found Something For My Shelf by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me" by @allysunny (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bale!Bruce Wayne)

A New Beginning by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Plus size!Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

Slumber Party by @bippot (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader is kidnapped and kinda traumatised, Canon typical violence, Minor injuries)

Now or Never by @whirlybirbs (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Mild depiction of injuries, Reader is a retired hero)

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

Text

Not How His Monday Was Supposed to Go

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

The new Wayne Enterprises board member has had enough of Bruce’s shit.

Warnings: Bruce is a bit of an asshole and a pig, mention of a family member needing surgery, swearing, reader is a girlboss, Bruce is low-key a sub, implied smut

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

When you agreed to act as your father’s representative for Wayne Enterprises as he recovered from surgery, you certainly weren’t expecting the CEO of the company to stroll in three hours late, dark purple bruises littering his muscular neck, dark shades perched on the end of his nose, suit and hair ruffled.

You huffed as he crumpled into the stupidly expensive chair at the head of the table, only four seats down from you. You had to admit he was a very handsome man, with broad shoulders and dark hair that seemed to curl perfectly around his sculpted face. He gave an air of intimidation but his bright blue eyes made him seem approachable. “So what’d I miss?”

And suddenly your attraction to the man was gone.

Every meeting that followed, Bruce would strut into the room several hours late, one time he was already there when everyone arrived but he was asleep and still wearing the same clothes as the day before. Most times, he wouldn’t even show up, but when he did, he wouldn’t contribute anything meaningful to the conversation, simply giving generic anecdotes that related to the women he had seduced.

The most aggravating thing was, you knew how intelligent he could be. Sometimes it would just slip out. He would say something profound and incredibly smart but he would quickly catch himself and wave it off with some half-hearted comment like “or whatever the senator told me last night. Though I could have heard her wrong, her mouth was quite full”. It irked you to no end, especially being the only woman serving on the board.

As the weeks dragged on and your father’s health was improving, your own mental health was going completely downhill and by the time your last day arrived, you were done with this alpha male bullshit that Bruce loved to instigate. So, as your final meeting ended, which Bruce conveniently didn’t attend, you stormed off, ready to give the man a piece of your mind.

Your heels clacked on the polished floor leading to the massive corner office he had claimed for himself. As you neared the huge dark gray doors, you paused for a moment, pulling down your pencil skinny so it sat lower down your plump thighs instead of bunching up, and making sure you didn’t have any of those dreaded button gaps around your considerable bust.

Taking in one last deep breath, trying to will yourself not to straggle the man right as you saw him, you gave a firm knock to the door and walked in.

Your boss was hunched over his desk, intently staring at what appeared to be blueprints. His dark Armani suit jacket was off and hanging over the back of his chair, leaving him in only a white button-up that stretched across the bulk of his muscles.

“Mr Wayne.” He glanced up from his work and a brief look of shock flashed across his face before he steeled his expression once more.

He muttered your name as he pushed his work to the side. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” The words were polite but his tone was anything but. He sounded like a typical frat boy who felt entitled to your attentions and affections. Your face fell into a scowl.

The door shut behind you with a slam, but you did not flinch. “Mr Wayne, this visit will be anything except a pleasure.” You strode forward with all the confidence in the world, anger swirling around you. “I have sat in that boardroom for weeks watching as you indulged men far below your moral and social standing. You have let them run wild, making a fool out of not only themselves but of you and your business.”

Bruce sat back in his chair, eyes wide as he watched you get closer and closer. “And I have had enough. I can see right through you Mr Wayne. You’re a smart man, you’re compassionate and generous, and yet you still act like these worms, pretend to be like them for some dumbass reason.”

You planted your hands onto his desk and loomed over the CEO. “So no matter what you do outside of this office that might redeem your flimsy character, you still let shit like this happen here and that makes you just as bad as those little boys. Fuck you Mr Wayne. Next time I see you, I will kick you in the nuts so hard your kids will feel it.”

And with that you turned and strode out like a conquering hero before realising you forgot something. You stuck your head back into his office. “Oh and go to all your meetings like a goddamn adult.” The door slammed shut on a bewildered looking Bruce who’s pants suddenly seemed a couple sizes too small.

“Wait wait wait. So the first time mom talked to you she cussed you out and threatened to assault you!” Tim exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. Dick and Jason seemed both amused and disgusted while Damian just looked at his father with immeasurable disappointment. Bruce smirked as he watched his boys have a simultaneous meltdown. The question had been a simple one, how did their parents meet, but it seems like they weren’t ready for the answer

“Yep.” He said proudly. “And let me tell you, it was the sexiest thing she’s ever done.”

“Ugh!”

“Gross!”

“Y’all are nasty!”

“Don’t talk about our mother like that!” They all screamed at once and, like usual, came to protect your honour. But Bruce just chuckled.

“She was a powerful woman, what can I say?”

“Was?” You cooed suddenly over his shoulder. “Who’s the one running Wayne Enterprises now?” Your sharp nails dragged along the skin top of his chest where his tight shirt didn’t cover. He shivered under your touch, his entire body going to mush.

You looked up from your now boneless husband to your sons. “Your father was a real piece of work when I first met him but I fixed him up real good.” You purred and pressed the tips of your nails into his skin.

Jason was the first to break, surprisingly. “Jesus Christ!” He cried out, slapping his hands over his ears. Then, they toppled like dominos.

Dick was positively green, Tim had a vein in his neck that looked like it was about to burst and Damian was glaring at the floor. “Go on boys, get out of here before I teach your father another lesson.” In a collective pile, they tumbled from the room, scrambling to get as far away as possible.

Bruce turned swiftly as soon as the boys were out of earshot and grabbed your hips to tug you down onto the chair with him. “Come on, Mrs Wayne, tell me how bad I’ve been.”

Request: Meets her at Wayne Co, she’s a new board member and have a few words for playboy Bruce who misses many meetings

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 11 months

Text

Tender | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader with chronic fatigue

✦ word count— 3.6k

✦ summary— snippets of life with chronic fatigue while dating Damian.

✦ warnings— light angst, depictions of chronic illness/disability, mentions of food, nudity implied in a non-sexual context, mentions of meds and doctors, fluff.

✦ author's note— this fic was comissioned through donation.

════════════════════════

Rain hadn't made its appearance this month; worrisome for a city like Gotham where rain seemed to be a permanent fixture.

You couldn't remember a night without rain in the past three years, or such a hot morning for that matter. So this was a first in a long time, therefore you were somewhat unprepared.

It was your fault for not checking the weather app the night before and it was the climate's fault for not giving you a truce. Although if you were to go there, we all knew the actual people responsible for the changing climate — for most problems, to an extent.

You left the bed slowly, trying not to make noise. Damian was awake already, probably training, yet you didn't want him to know you were too.

His help was always welcomed, and treasured, and he gave it with joy and ease. You hadn't imagined he would be as thoughtful or patient — you knew him to be kind, definitely nicer than he pretended to be, but this was different.

He took it so seriously, too, consulting people whose actual job was to be caregivers had been his first move and you were a tad ashamed to admit it shocked you. A part of you had wanted him to do it, but you expected him to simply read a book and go from there. And read he did, but he didn't stop there; you didn't understand how at the time.

You understood why: he loved you. But the how was elusive with everything he had on his shoulders. It would have been so easy for him to simply pay somebody to take care of you and go on with his routine, but it seemed that the thought never crossed his mind.

Showers were a little easier now that you lived with him and got to use a bigger bathroom. You tried not to rely on the shower bench too much in the mornings, partially scared you would get sleepy too early.

Damian was back from training by the time you were about to choose a pair of shoes. His hair was damp and apart from his shoe-less feet, he was ready for work too.

"You should still take a jacket."

"I hate carrying things around."

He pinched his nose. "I will take it with me, then." At your questioning look, he added, "I will be picking you up from work today."

"You don't have to. Caroline likes driving me home."

Caroline was your favorite coworker and it wasn't just because she would eat lunch with you and drive you home from work. She was just pleasant to be around, never overbearing when it came to your symptoms, and the only one who kindly woke you up after your scheduled naps.

Damian sat next to you on the grey loveseat. He picked up the top you had decided against and folded it, something you had never been able to do without a surface. "I just want you to be ready for Friday."

"I am ready, Damian."

"Fine." He leaned to kiss the side of your head.

════════════════════════

You sometimes wondered if driving was really all that fulfilling. It seemed stressful from the passenger seat. Or maybe those were your nerves speaking.

Turns out you weren't ready for your medical appointment on Friday.

"Do you want me to go in there with you?"

"I think so."

You knew how lucky you were that you had a partner who was willing to do this, somebody who cleared his schedule for your comfort. Damian must have been aware that doctors took him more seriously than they did you, or that they only believed the things you said once he corroborated them or added more details.

He opened the door for you and offered his hand to help you out of the car. You took it without a second thought, not trusting yourself or the wonky pavement underneath.

Damian rested his hand on your lower back, steadying you as your wobbly legs carried you into the building.

Bouts of pain generally made their appearance when you had appointments. Out of stress, the doctor explained. It made sense, but along came drowsiness and you wished you could simply skip one appointment or two from time to time.

Of course you never said as much. It would be pointless, honestly; Damian would simply force the doctor to see you at home and the same stress, drowsiness, and overall tiredness would keep their chokehold on you.

You always spoke more when Damian was there, and when you struggled to remember something, he filled in the blanks. He carried your tracker with him, and the diary he had started on his own for good measure. The doctor always asked if he was taking care of himself too — you used to hate the question, seeing it as a reminder that you didn't really do a good job taking care of him in comparison to what he did for you; it took a long tearful conversation with Damian for you to understand he would always ask for attention if you weren't doing a good job at providing it.

"We have different needs," he had said in that incredibly infuriating yet attractive matter-of-fact tone of his.

The elevator traveled up smoothly, barely rattling when it landed on your floor. Damian let you out first and as quickly as you crossed the doors, his hand was already back on your body. It was almost a reflex of his, he did it even when you weren't in pain, a simple 'I'm here'.

You sighed in relief as you kicked your shoes off. As comfortable as they were, they were still restricting. Damian put the keys on the console table and before you could sit on the bench next to the table, he wrapped an arm around you and coaxed you into your shared bedroom.

The sheets had been changed that morning. The faint aroma of fabric softener lingered just enough to avoid a headache. Your sleeping clothes were neatly folded on the bench in front of the bed, with the basket Damian always kept full of snacks and where he hid notes for you to find.

His notes varied from encouraging words to doodles. with fragments of poems in between both extremes. You had taken the habit of texting short messages to him in return, sometimes silly things when you knew he would have a stressful day; other times reminders of how much loved him.

Your text chain would be incomprehensible for anybody but yourselves. You liked them. You liked that despite everything, you had that silly thing to laugh about, something mundane just for you and him.

Eyeing the clothes, you twisted your mouth. Your back was killing you. "Would you... help me?"

Damian dropped his cell phone onto the bedside table, still unlocked, white glare signaling he was in the middle of drafting an e-mail. "Hold onto something."

You did so, letting him take care of the rest. Not only did he take your pants off, which was the most painful part of getting changed this particular day, but guided your legs into a pair of cotton sleeping shorts one by one. You didn't even ask him help with your top yet Damian gently sat you on the bed and instructed you to lift your arms so you could wear your matching set.

Both of you undid the bed, he let you arrange your pillows to your need and only went back to pick his cell phone back up once you assured him you were comfortable. He handed you the remote, placed a bottle of water near you, and sat on his desk chair to continue whatever it was he was doing.

Your eyes grew heavy about 10 minutes into an episode of a show you started the past week. You had hoped you would hold on a little longer, maybe until Damian had to go.

"I will be back soon," Damian announced softly, prescription in his hand. "Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Some kind of dessert?"

He approached the bed. You braced yourself for a chastising reminder that you ate too much sugar sometimes. Damian leaned in and kissed your temple. "Take a nap, beloved, get some rest. I will wake you up when it's time for dinner."

════════════════════════

Some days, a dull ache woke you up, and trying to move became a whole odyssey. Breathing exercises worked well enough to give you the drive to try it again, but that didn’t mean you were always successful.

Others, you left the bed just fine just to find yourself needing to lay down an hour or so into your day.

Today, the sun was up in full, threading into the bedroom through the only slither left by the curtains. You had already texted your boss earlier to let them know you couldn’t go to work. You didn’t know if they had answered already or not.

You could hear pencil against paper, meaning Damian was sketching near the window.

“You’ll be late,” you reminded him.

He didn’t stop sketching as he answered, "I’m not going. My girlfriend is more important than a stupid meeting."

“Bruce—”

The mention of his father made him sigh, interrupting you. “He wishes for you to feel better soon.”

You grumbled. Both of them were as stubborn and you weren't about to waste your energy on fighting either of them right now.

“Do you want to change position?”

“I want to pee.”

Damian dropped the sketchbook and the pencil onto the sofa and walked toward the bed. Wordlessly, he helped you up and off the mattress.

You slowly made it to the bathroom, turning the light on just to be sure you wouldn't fall.

“Don’t close the door.”

“I know, Dami.” You had been here many times before. He was always helpful, if not a little overbearing when it came to movement which you understood and often made things genuinely bearable.

Back on the bed, you drank water from your bottle.

Damian gave you that look that meant he wanted to say something yet knew it wasn't the time. You decided not to ask and laid down once again.

He handed you the remote in case you wanted to watch something, but the only thing you wanted was to sleep for a day or two.

Such an urge wasn't new, but you were kind enough to yourself not to ignore it when you could barely leave the bed.

"You should eat something."

There it was.

"Later," you pleaded.

You could almost hear him deflate. Still, Damian kissed your cheek and went back to the sofa, letting you try and get some sleep.

He would insist again later, no matter what you did, and you would probably get away with just having a smoothie. But you kept that to yourself, not only needing sleep out of tiredness but as a manner to pass the time.

Damian knew as much, he also knew there was nothing more he could do right now to help so he and his stubbornness focused on the sketch and only paused to watch you breathe.

════════════════════════

Panic coiled in Damian's stomach. Waking up to an empty bed at 5:00 in the morning was not only uncommon and worrisome, but one of his worst nightmares.

He always feared you would wander around the condo in the middle of the night only to fall asleep in an uncomfortable place or position, perhaps in pain, or both.

He padded his way along the hallway and checked the home office first. Your untouched desk, still donning the big water bottle he got you so you wouldn't use homework as an excuse for dehydration, wasn't as good of a sign as he hoped.

You weren't in any of the other bedrooms, nor the training room. He considered calling your parents, and as if you had visited them in the middle of the night; it wasn't insane to think you would miss your family. Yet his stomach sunk at the mere thought.

Had he done something wrong? Everything had been just fine before he left for patrol, you had even joked you would be awake waiting for him this time even though both of you knew you wouldn't last more than needed. He never expected such things from you, he didn't need them, a part of him didn't even want them because they would mean putting your health in jeopardy.

Damian found you in the kitchen. Sat on your stool, with your head tilted to the side and your mouth half-open, you read something on your phone.

He cleared his throat, but it didn't have its intended effect and you jumped. Your tired eyes bore into his and Damian almost sighed out of relief.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"It's Nicole's birthday."

He hummed. "You told me yesterday."

"I'm making her a cake. We have everything I need. Well, that's not true, but I can order everything else when the store opens and—" you interrupted yourself, frowning. You didn't like the way he was looking at you. "What?"

Inhaling deeply, he leaned his elbows on the island. Your eyes were on him and he would rather die than admit he was scared of upsetting you. He should have been past it, but he didn't know what to do sometimes. He couldn't simply forbid you from doing things, no matter how easy it might have made some situations in the long run.

"Wouldn't it be too extraneous?"

"Damian." Your 'are you fucking kidding me?' tone did nothing to placate him. "We have a stand mixer."

Right. The bulky ugly thing in the corner. He didn't mind having appliances on the countertops, no matter how bad they looked, it made things easier for you and that was all that mattered. He just specifically found the stand-mixer ugly.

"Just don't lift the bowl," he said, doing his best to not sound defeated. Your face lit up like a child who had just gotten just what they wanted for their birthday. "Call me when you're about to pour the batter. I'll do it."

Damian heard you opening and closing drawers and cupboards as he trained and although he paid more attention to the changing sounds than to what he was doing, he ended up drenched in sweat.

On his way to take a shower, he caught a snippet of the song you were humming as you moved around the kitchen and he could only hope your good spirit could last at least until noon.

The difficult parts never bothered him, nor doing the bulk of the work around the place. It wasn't like he did everything, the cleaning service came three times a week and you always left things as tidy as possible. But even if he had to do it all, he wouldn't be bothered.

He felt normal like this, useful. He liked doing things for you just like he had liked doing things for his mother when he was a child. Back then he thought that was what a man was supposed to do, protect, and provide to an extent. He didn't seek gender affirmation anymore, and he knew now he hadn't done anything for his mother out of a manly instinct; he simply loved her.

Much like he loved you albeit in a different way. Damian couldn't fathom himself without loving you, without being there for you. He had been born to fight and he had been reborn to care for you.

It wasn't always easy, he was the first to admit it. He didn't know what it was like to be in your shoes, he had no idea the kind of pain you were in or how heavy the fatigue you had to bear on your shoulders felt. He just hated that he couldn't take any of it away, that as much help as he could give, there should have been something more to do.

He grew tired sometimes. And you were oh so sweet about it, telling him to get some rest, pretending you didn't need help to get out of bed in the middle of the night just so he would go back to sleep. But Damian only slept well when you were comfortable, when things were normal to the standards you both had accorded.

At first, he had planned on being as strict as possible, to take care of everything so you wouldn't have to do anything. It didn't last. He couldn't live with the guilt that washed over him every time your face fell when he stopped you from doing something.

Learning to compromise had been the hardest thing he had done. And now here he was, about to bake a cake with you because it was your best friend's birthday.

He would do anything you asked him. It was a well-known fact about him. That meant indulging you sometimes, accepting things his brain told him weren't a good idea.

The loud stand-mixer greeted him back into the kitchen. You had a spatula in your hand, attention solely on the rotating flat beater.

"What were you going to do if I weren't here?"

You didn't speak until the mix was fully incorporated and the mixer was off. "Use a spoon."

"A spoon."

"Yes. Scoop little by little..."

He chuckled. "You are precious."

════════════════════════

"Take a break."

Damian had already walked away from you when you lifted your head to face the doorway. It wasn't an uncommon interaction. If you could call it as such.

Before you could even think to stand up, he was back with an unbreakable glass full of water. He set it on your desk, knowing full well you got nervous when people handed you things.

"I'm never finishing this," you sighed in frustration.

He stared at you, then at the glass. Once you picked the glass up and took a sip, he spoke, "Is it too difficult?"

"I can't focus. I'm not even halfway into the stupid paper, but I feel weird."

"Weird?"

"Like there's static in my head."

He nodded as though he understood. You both knew he didn't, not really.

"When is it due?"

"Monday."

You knew what he was thinking, 'What kind of professor would ever do that?' and the answer was quite simple: your least favorite professor.

Instead of asking anything about the awful faculty member of your college, he said, "We could do it this weekend."

"I'm not letting you do my homework."

"I have no intentions of doing your homework. I will help you focus, you will do it yourself."

"I had plans for our weekend."

He looked at you as though you had grown a second head. Plans weren't really a thing for both of you, not in the strict sense — a routine was needed, and medical appointments were non-negotiable, but apart from that, the mere idea of making plans was avoided.

"That movie you said looked interesting is on VOD. I thought we could watch it."

He visibly relaxed. Crisis averted. "We can watch it once your homework is done."

"You have things to do at night."

"Before patrol, beloved." Damian put his hand on your shoulder, leaning into your personal space to rest his head on top of yours as he continued making plans, "We will do your homework then take a nap, have lunch, watch the movie..."

You welcomed his touch, pressing your back to the chair just to have him a little closer. "Yeah?"

He hummed, nuzzling into your hair. "It will be a good weekend."

════════════════════════

Damian ignored your greeting as he crossed the bedroom to enter the bathroom. You heard the water running and decided to let it go, going back to the notes you had taken earlier. You had a note-taking system now, after many trials and errors, but that didn't mean things always stuck.

In all honesty, you were doing your best not to fall asleep. Between the sound of the water and the cozy blankets you were under, the words started to jumble. Your heavy eyes were begging to close and you almost gave in, but the bathroom door opened and Damian caught your attention again.

He sat on the bed, glanced at your notes, then turned to the side to put his phone to charge.

"Bad day?"

"Terrible."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He laid on his back, facing the ceiling.

You couldn't help the sigh that escaped you. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just be here."

You removed your notes from the bed. "I'm here."

He shifted to rest his head on your shoulder. The conversation was over. The awareness that came with living with him was different from anything you had experienced before, and his vulnerability was different than anyone else's.

You didn't think he was scared of it, not when it came to you, but he wasn't fond of it either. It wasn't difficult to see why. But you liked how it manifested, almost as second nature.

You almost cried the first time he swallowed his pride and admitted he couldn't understand what you were going through. He saw it, he paid attention to it, but he couldn't feel it. And it was so worth it, enough for you to understand truly what you meant to him.

If Damian was somebody else, or if he loved you any less, that would have been the first and the last time he admitted to not knowing everything.

You took his hand, bringing it close to your face. You kissed his bruised knuckles, careful not to move the bandage.

He sighed. Damian shuffled on the bed to lay on his side, head on your shoulder as he let you hold his hand for as long as you wanted.

Putting your free hand on the back of his head, you buried your fingers into his damp hair. He nuzzled into you, barely humming to assure you he was comfortable.

For the first time in your entire relationship, he fell asleep before you.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x plus size reader

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batfamluvr · 3 months

Text

Valentine's Day with the Batboys

CW❣️: riding, semi-public sex, unconventional aftercare, overstimulation, cunnilingus, bath sex??, mirror sex (if you squint, writer was rushing and it's obvious who they don't read enough of or just don't particularly like.

Dick Grayson had been fucking you well into the night, inside some abandoned building on his patrol. Your body was pressed into the chilly brick wall and his sweaty chest was pressed against your back." Fuuuck," he breathed out and continued his bruising pace.

His thrusts were frenzied and desperate now. Dick's bottom lip had retreated in between his teeth and he was purring into your ear." Perfect," he rasped," pussy." His black and blue gloved hands kneaded every piece of meat and muscle on your body.

"Good girl," he breathed out, trying to retain some sanity." Takin' me so well. So slick and wet." With that, he pulled out at the very last second and came onto your ass cheeks with quivering, tensing thighs and choked groans.

Dick had slid down the wall, huffing and groaning." Happy Valentine's, sweetie," he said, pulling a single vibrantly red rose from his suit pocket and handing it you.

Jason Todd's head was thrown back and his mouth was open in a silent moan as you rode him silly in the bathtub of the hotel he'd rented for you two. Rose petals and vanilla bubbles stuck to the small of your back." Goddamn," he groaned and smacked your ass. The sting was delicious.

" so addictive," he grunts, hands sliding up to cup and play with your tits. A sweet whine flows out of your mouth as his soapy hands circle your nipples, leaving them hardening in the cool air." You're enough to drive a man wild."

Jason almost felt toyed with after a few minutes." Sorry, babe, water sex is not what they make it out be," he coos tauntingly and plows into you. The back of your head was smacking against the mirror. He had you in missionary on the counter. He was trying to cushion the impact of your head, but your gummy walls were cradling his cock perfectly and his focus was having a hard time splitting.

With each thrust, roses and bubbles would hit the floor from where he'd dragged you out of the tub, needing more contact and pleasure. The water made it all feel dry and strenuous. His hand stroked your cheek, eyes soft and juxtaposing his sharp pace. Each snap of his hips had you seeing stars.

He'd ended up coming with his cock down your throat, getting himself a mini-blowjob in the process. Of course he finished you off with his tongue since his cock was down for the count and he's a gentleman.

"Happy Valentine's to us and us only, my love," he purred and drug his finger down your slit, over the overstimulated and throbbing clit he'd sucked dry.

Damian Wayne gazed at your cunt as it stretched over his cock. It was Valentine's Day and he spoiled you rotten. Streamers and balloons were thrown everywhere; half eaten steak and half-drank expensive wine laid on the nightstand of his room.

You'd convinced Damian to let you ride him, to finally be spoiled for once. He sucked in a sharp breath, toned stomach rippling." Beautiful," he stated in a hushed tone. If you didn't know Damian any better, his version of sex-talk would've gone over your head. But it didn't. You blushed and ran a hand through his straight, black locks.

The only sign that he was even alive was his mouth, which was parted into a silent groan. Your thighs locked into a squatting position and you began to bounce on his cock. Damiann grasped your thighs as his back arched up into you." Beloved," he rasped out.

The sheets were sliding off the corners of the bed; the roses and streamers on the mattress were swiftly getting kicked off. Damian had a grip on the ends of your hair, controlling your pace." Harder," he commanded, regaining some dominance." Do I look like I'm made of glass?" A sharp, cracking sound split the grunts and moans. He'd smacked your ass." 'M not. And I don't scare easily so break me, if you can," he scoffed.

It had been at least ten minutes and Damian hadn't cum. Damn him and his stamina. You had cum twice; your thighs were aching and your cunt was pulsing and leaking onto his pelvis. If it weren't for you being the one to convince him to be ridden, you'd have gotten off long ago.

"Dami," you moaned out, hands on his toned chest. He'd lost it; the sultry, almost pornographic spill of his name from your mouth was enough to jerk his hips and have him shoot his seed into you." Shit," he breathed out, hands falling from your hips to your thighs and caressing the aching muscles as he tries to catch his breath.

You stifled chortles at his cussing, since it was so rare. Neither one of you panicked, both so caught in the bliss, and the subconscious knowledge of knowing you were on the pill." I hope I made this V-Day memorable, Dami," you puffed tiredly.

Tim Drake (don't read much of him, sorry) had you on your back, arching up into his mouth. The night of love and passion had started slow---kisses, hickies, and sweet nothings. You'd always believed that Tim enjoyed the foreplay more than the actual sex.

With time, you were able to move the night into something more...erotic. Now your hands were carding through the raven waves as his tongue lapped greedily at your weeping cunt. Pornographic mewls and whines flowed from your lips like a ballad, seducing Tim. His hips were thrusting down into the bed; he was trying to sync his tongue and his hips.

"Yes," you moaned," right there." Tim's tongue fucked in and out of you, two fingers curled in your cunt. The soft scratch of his nails on your pillowy walls was heavenly. It felt as if the bed would levitate you straight to Aphrodite's feet.

Gazing down at him, you could see the ethereality of his features. They were soft, delicate; his pupils were blown and clashing with his electric blue eyes. His plump and supple tongue was shimmering with your body's gratitude before and after he brought you to a planet-imploding orgasm.

Your eyes screwed shut and your back hunched and thighs quivered. Tim's hands clasped around your waist, calming you, bringing you down gracefully. The position you two held looked renaissance painting worthy.

Soon, your thighs relaxed and you slumped on the mattress. With a yawn, you said," so tired, Timmy." His electric eyes flickered to your glowing face." But you haven't eaten your chocolates yet."

Bruce had you on your back, legs pressed to your shoulders as he pounded into you. It was one of his favorite positions when he was feeling passionate. He liked to see your cheeks redden and lips wet and plump from all the kissing. He thought you looked divine like this---a light sheen of sweat coating your face, limps slobbery and plump, eyes glossy and fucked out.

"Bruce," you whined sultrily. He'd already brought you to three celestial shifting orgasms." Please." The makings of a grin crawled up his face and his two of his thumb snaked into your mouth." Again, sweet one," he commanded. You moaned, skin searing with enough lust and desire to make Venus blush.

A light, nearly invisible blush spread over Bruce's cheeks. For a second, the only noises heard were the erotic and lustful sounds of his hips smashing against your used and slimy cunt. His hands were pressed on the backs of your knees, subtly pushing them up farther.

Soon, he came with a shout, falling against your chest and panting. He promptly pulled the condom off and tossed it in the trashcan beside his nightstand. Your arms wrapped around his sweaty and blistering body." Are you okay?" He asked as softly as he could, trying terribly to keep the Batman out of his voice. He rang for Alfred to start a bath and order-in.

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