γεια σας !! obsessed with fictional men and film . cat lover . future filmmaker . ravenclaw . eighteen . forever battling writer's block . cabin six . can't tell if i'm cringe or not . greedy playlist curator . unfortunately a kpop stan . mythical beast . greek (ish) . british (mostly) . bed bug . wife of too many to count . orbit 4ever .
about me ! dc masterlist !
requests are currently open !
— writing will be very slow right now as i have just started university, please be patient, thank you for your support <3
— i generally don't do part twos as i like keeping my work definitive and also sometimes i just don't have ideas for certain things you guys want part twos for, so if you'd like a part two to something please comment or send in asks for some ideas !!! if you want me to write, i need you guys' help sometimes <3
A long exhale leaves your lips as you drape yourself over your boyfriend — head lying on his shoulder and cheek smeared against his neck, breathing in deeply.
Damian doesn't say anything, doesn't break the silence and doesn't move an inch. He stays seated in the bed, back still leaning against the headrest while his eyes follow the lines alongside the book.
His expression remains solemn, almost cold in a sense that makes you shudder. "I love you." you murmur, so quietly as if you were afraid of something. You wrap your arms tighter around his neck, already lying halfway across his body.
Silence settles — unsettling and uncomfortable for you. The night was breathing, the curtains fluttered, the soft thud of his book closing. The silence comes back, this time louder.
"I must use the restroom." he whispers back.
His poise feels sharp. But his silence to your affection lays somewhere deeper, unanswered and uncertain that makes your skin itch.
As if he cared enough to open your soul yet leaves it untouched. And before you realise, you are already sitting on the edge of the bed — the door closing behind him as he vanishes into the bathroom.
The frown tugs deeper on your face, corner of your lips weighing heavier than any burden. "You are supposed to say I love you too." you whisper under your breath, "am I being too needy?"
Your gaze drifts towards his desk. The fine details of a clean and composed order, everything in place and boring. You rise from the mattress and make your way to the table.
"I shouldn't..." you trail off, hands hovering above the papers. You still do — fingers brushing against the book to let it fall open in front of you, bare for your eyes only, “woops…”
But you halt at the very page already, gaze glued to the lines stretched across the paper — the contour and the shape so perfect that it steals your breath. The shading seems impeccable, the contrast perfect.
This cannot be.
You continue flipping through the papers, fingers grazing the edges softly, eyes attentively drifting to every curve and every line. You suck in a sharp breath, too intrigued to stop.
Until you reach the very last page. This time, a painting. With expressive colours and beautiful lighting. It makes you glow. As if he has memorised every single detail of you.
"Oh." you let out, seeing his signature etched into the fabrics and your name right beside his as if it belonged.
Every drawing and painting — it's perfect. It's beautiful. But for him, you are. The very definition of perfect.
You, you, you.
The heat crawls up to your head. Embarrassment fused with fluster. He loves you in his own way.
synopsis: romantic clark? romantic clark! -> more of my works
“What?” You giggle softly.
You and Clark are in bed, slowly and peacefully ending the day together. You’re both laying on your sides, facing each other, noses almost touching.
The short sleeves of Clark’s simple white tee are wrapped snugly around his milky white arms, his messy waves fall over his eyes, this time without the barrier of the thick black-rimmed glasses. Even though you’ve been with Clark for years, it still surprises you how beautiful he is. And he’s all yours. Yours to hug, to kiss, to cuddle, to look at. Yours to love.
And for some reason, your boyfriend always finds solace in just looking at you. It’s so simple. But with Clark by your side, the little things become everything.
“Nothing,” says Clark. His azure eyes are on the verge of closing, and you can tell he’s doing his best to keep them open. You throw a leg over his hip as his warm hand wraps around said leg. “Can’t I look at you?” His sleep-ridden voice croaks out.
“Babe,” you sigh, placing your hand on his jaw, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the smooth, freshly shaved skin. “You’re tired. Sleep.”
Your boyfriend only hums in response, his lips pressing a light kiss on your open palm before mumbling, “between sleep and the sight of you, I’ll always pick you.”
a/n: based on the quote: "given the choice between closing my eyes or getting to look at you, it’s not much of a contest."
dick grayson x reader fluff, non sexual showering, language, suggestive
The steam from the shower wafted around you, creating a fog that you couldn’t see through. With closed eyes and your head tipped back, you let the hot water cascade down your tired body, making you let out a soothing sigh.
“Hi,” you heard Dick say. He peeked his head through the shower curtain next and looked at your blurred figure.
“Hi?” You replied, opening one eye to look at the shit eating grin on his face.
“Can I join you?” He asked with a smile he reserved for when he was trying to seduce you.
“Sure,” you replied and backed away a bit, making room for him.
He pulled the shower curtain back, revealing his already naked body like he wouldn’t have cared if you said no or maybe he just knew you too well and had known you wouldn’t turn him down.
His sweet grin turned into a full blown yelp the second he stepped under the shower. He jumped back and almost hit his head on the wall, making you let out a laugh.
“What the fuck!” He bellowed.
“What?”
“You practicing for going to hell or something?” He questioned. “The water is fucking boiling.”
“Don’t be dramatic its fine,” you rolled your eyes.
“Turn it down,” he said, firmly.
“No, you can leave,” you offered.
“I’m already wet I don’t want to leave please turn it down just a bit angel, you’re literally red right now,” he coaxed.
“Fine,” you huffed and turned the shower knob to the right to make the water a bit cooler.
“Thank you,” Dick said and stepped under the spray of the water –still wincing, and put his hands on your waist.
“Good?” You checked.
“Manageable,” he grumbled, grabbing your shampoo from the shelf. “This isn’t healthy.”
“Your face isn’t healthy,” you replied, sticking your tongue out at him.
“Is that why you keep sitting on it?” he smirked, earning a smack to his chest in response.
He squeezed some of the shampoo on your palm and leaned his head down, gesturing for you to rub it in his hair.
“Your hair is getting long,” you murmured, rubbing your fingers through his scalp.
“Do you want me to cut it?” he said softly, too busy moaning at the way your hands moved through his hair.
“No I like it like this,” you replied, gripping the inky black hair in your palms.
“Freak,” he chuckled standing to his full height.
“I didn’t even say anything!” You protested, closing your eyes shut when Dick began rubbing the shampoo in your hair.
You felt him kiss your forehead, each of your closed eyelids, your nose then finally your lips before he rested his head on your shoulder, letting out a soft hum.
You grabbed your lavender scented body wash –that he loved an unhealthy amount, and began rubbing it on his back while he hummed in response and planted kisses on your shoulder and collarbone and wherever his lips could reach.
“I love when you don’t have work,” he mumbled. “Quit your job.”
“So you can be stuck to me like a koala all the time?”
“Mhmm,” he let out, planting one last kiss on your jaw before straightening.
“Tempting,” you smiled.
“I can offer you many services,” he almost whispered, planting kiss after kiss on the side of your throat, your collarbones and your jaw.
“Is this why you crashed my shower,” you mused, gripping his hair.
“Maybe,” he smirked, tracing his fingers down your spine.
“Dick,” you whispered, your hand finding the tap behind him in an attempt to turn the water a bit warmer without him noticing.
“Tell me what you want,” he said in a husky voice laced with need, continuing his attack on your neck.
“FUCK!” he screamed and jumped back again, glaring at you.
“Get back here!” You protested when you saw him get out of the shower and grab his towel to wrap around his waist.
“You’re a demon!” He yelled.
“Dick come on! I’m sorry,” you giggled turning the shower off and wrapped a towel around your torso, following him towards the sink.
“Just for that, you’re not getting anything for a week,” he huffed.
“Like you can go that long without touching me,” you challenged.
“Don’t test me,” he narrowed his eyes and turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” You asked.
“To get dressed?” He offered like it was the most natural thing.
“Do you not moisturise after you shower?”
“Uh no?”
“You heathen! Come back here,” you ordered and like the obedient boyfriend he was, he made his way back to you.
“Is this necessary,” he asked when he saw you pump some pink body lotion on your palm.
“Yes! Hot water dries your skin,” you replied, rubbing it over his hard chest and abs.
“You just wanna feel me up,” he smirked and looked down at you.
“I wouldn’t need an excuse for that,” you replied, rubbing the lotion on his biceps. “You’re so large, I use all that for both of my legs.”
“Are you complaining?”
“No but-”
“That’s what I thought,” he smiled again and took the body lotion from you, grabbing the edge of the towel to unwrap it from your body.
“My turn.”
HES SO!!! hes so!!! SO!!!!
likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, hope you enjoy <3
so when a man wants to motorboat some tiddies it’s quiet but when I say I wanna stick my face between jason todd’s big ole pecs and go brrrrr suddenly I’m “being unladylike” and “ruining brunch”
Jason has tried to get rid of his white streak so many times. He hates it, he thinks he looks like a character out of one of Damian's manga books but eventually it grows on him but the thing he loves best about it? Answering the questions of people who ask why his hair is like that.
"Stress," he tells a gala attendee, "Yeah, watching my dad at one of these things, making sure he doesn't drown in the punch bowl or french kiss a reporter, it's a stressful job."
"I drank Zesti Cola and Mentos at the same time."
"I disrespected my elders and a ghost straight up bitch slapped me." he tells one of Dick's kids when he's babysitting.
"This is what happens when you wash your hair in Gotham without using treated water."
“I let Dick talk me into a ‘fun brother bonding spa day.’ Something in that hair mask that Donna cooked up was radioactive. I swear.”
“I got caught in a flashbang at close range. My hair saw the light before I did.”
“I got hit with a fear toxin variant. Apparently my hair panicked too.”
