I am quite new to the writing world on tumblr, so please be gentle.
I do intend to write smut at some point. If you are a minor on my account, please at least try and stay sneaky about it if you are reading my work. I am not responsible for the media you consume online, nor will I be policing you and telling you not to. Minors are a constant in online spaces, and avoiding them entirely is impossible.
♡ fluff
☆ smut
◇ angst
♤ suggestive
Jason Todd ��
➥ Morning kisses ♡♤
➥ Mary Jane ♡♤
➥ ANYTHING > HUMAN ♡
Bruce Wayne ⌕
➥ How deeply he can love ♡
Dick Grayson ⭑.ᐟ
➥ Edamame ♡
Tim Drake ᯤ
➥ The Man Who Stepped Up ♡
Damian Wayne ⚔︎
➥ "What are we?" ♡
➥ I know what we are ♡
➥ Friends? ♡◇
@viviansturns (for the request divider!)
Please be respectful when you request. No smut for Damian as he is a minor. You may request a character and a prompt, but please be specific for smut, fluff, or angst. If you'd like a specific AU or the reader to be a specific person, such as batsis!reader or batbro!reader, please just ask!!
No homophobia, transphobia, racist, sexist, misogynist, paedophilia, zoophillia, or just generally rude people. Do not request anything hard-core such as BDSM until I've gotten a little more comfortable and confident in my writing. However, do NOT under any circumstance request scat, vomit, necrophilia, watersports, incest, fauxcest, oviposition, or siscon.
Oh em gee, I luvvvvv what you wrote. It's so awesome, thank you so much for doing my request!! 🥹💞 I appreciate it a bunch! 🐭
No problem at all!! I'm super sorry it took me so long to do, I've had a bunch of things come up recently that have been making my schedule super busy and I haven't had much time to write anything. I appreciate your patience and I hope you feel comfortable enough to request more when you're ready! 💞
Hii, may I request a angst with fluff one shot of a Damian Wayne x Reader where the reader has ADHD, and tends to be a bit introverted in social settings (at least in the start with Damian). Taking place in Gotham Academy, they both share some classes together so they're both aquantinces as the reader tends to stick close to him as he's basically their main friend.
So, for the angst may it take place during a mandatory school pep rally, where people are cheering, music is playing, people shove as they try to get to their friends, and the reader starts to get overstimulated because there's obviously a lot going on, which Damian notices as he made sure to not stray too far away. They sneak away from the pep rally into the empty art hallway where they sit together on the floor. They end up talking about some of their shares interests, like their pets!
So, as the pair converses, they end up becoming closer friends. Which results in the following school days with the reader being more open and physically affectionate, and in turn he starts to trust the reader more which later on leads turns their relationship kinda into the one that's shown in "What are we fic".
Sorry if it's too long/too detailed, or doesn't make too much sense 😵💫
FRIENDS?
Pairing: Damian Wayne x ADHD!GN!Reader
CW: Angst, reader has a panic attack, mentions of sex.
Summary: Your day was horrible. Let Damian make it better.
"I think this is stupid." Damian growled, glaring at the flyer up on the school notice board, a mandatory school pep rally. "What even is this meant to be for? Fund-raising?" Damian glowered, crossing his arms and stepping closer to you, noticing your eyes darting all over the board, one of your feet tapping the ground incessantly. "Stop that." He put his foot over yours, gently pinning it to the floor.
"Sorry." You muttered, glancing down at your feet and frowning. You'd always been a bit hyper around Damian. But the pep rally made you feel a little anxious, the thought of having to be social with all that loud noise and so many people around sounded like hell on Earth. But unfortunately, because you went to such a prestigious school you were expected to all be the same with or without any neurological issues. "Don't be nervous." Damian assured you, nodding stiffly to you before he walked off to his next class, visual arts in practice.
You walked off to your own class, animal studies. A VET program which focused on the veterinary field of work, and just taking care of animals. As you entered the room, you were greeted by the rowdy class all talking loudly and laughing with their friends. The teacher, Mrs. Torres, nodded to you and appointed you your seat, directly in the front, smack dab in the middle. Pulling the chair out, you were surprised by the sight of a thumbtack stuck to the chair with a piece of blue tack.
The popular girls behind you all whispered and giggled about it, hoping you'd be too anxious to do anything out of the ordinary and just sit down like they'd seen you do so many times before. They knew you'd never call attention to yourself consciously. And so, you did. You sat there, feeling the prick of the thumbtack against your flesh, wincing at it. A whole 75 minutes of this. The constant giggling and whispering, the pain of being pricked by the thumbtack, Mrs. Torres droning on and on, not allowing you to go at your own pace with the work. It all got to you. Your brain was exhausted by the end of the lesson. All you wanted to do was lay down in your dorm and sleep. Maybe cry.
Yet, you had another 2 periods to go. Then allocated study time. Then you had to shower, get dressed, and attend that stupid pep rally. The worst part? The teacher droned on so much that she didn't even notice the bell ringing and ended up letting the class out a couple minutes later than usual, which meant that you didn't have time to follow the slower route to your next class, language, that you always went to get a drink of water after second period. The stress of the situation made you panic a little and bump into a few people as you rushed to get to your next class on time, the unfamiliar route causing a rising feeling of distress in the back of your mind.
Opening the door silently, the teacher, Mr. Faheem addressed you and gave you a sharp glare. "Tardiness is not tolerated here. Take a seat." He pointed to your seat. Great. Another change. Damian sat at the back of the classroom, his eyes trained on you as you reluctantly sat at your newly allocated seat. He knew you normally sat at the back next to him. He watched closely as you dug through your bag, hesitating as you noticed the teacher looking at you, as well as almost the whole class. "Don't keep us waiting. Get your book out and turn to a new page." Mr. Faheem barked, turning to the board and writing your name down under the strike system, three strikes and you'd be stuck in weekend detention.
Rifling through your bag, you finally managed to find your language book. It looked...different. Opening it, you flipped through all the pages. Every single one. Full. Flip, flip, flip. With each full page you felt panic rise higher and higher, your throat constricting. You'd grabbed your old language book from last year this morning in your rush not to be late for breakfast. "Right. You know I won't tolerate loose sheets in books. You'll need to memorize this entire lesson to write down in your correct book during the study time this afternoon." Mr. Faheem sighed in disappointment, shaking his head. "Oh, and this is crucial to your exam next week." He turned back to you with a small, sadistic grin. You swore he was out to get you. He hadn't liked you ever since you'd gotten into the school and many times, he'd disregarded your safety plan all together.
After that hellish class, you were drained. And you still had one more period to go before you could go and write everything down in your book, half of which you'd already forgotten. Damian came up to you as you walked with your head down, trying to make yourself as small as possible after the public embarrassment from Mr. Faheem. "I'll help you later." Damian spoke, his hand twitching as he fought the urge to pat your back. You looked so miserable, and he hated it. You'd been so nice to him since he got here. While you didn't talk to him much, you certainly helped him stay away from the vultures that tried to get close because of who his dad is.
Walking in step beside you, the two of you got to your next class together on time, math. He made sure that the teacher had put you two together for this class since you'd confided in him one night that you had absolutely no clue about the subjects of topics in math, and that the teachers refused to help you all because you needed a little more help understanding the topics. 'All students get equal help. If we help you more than we help others you'd have an unfair advantage.' You'd quoted to him one night, direct words from the principal when you'd asked for some help or some tutoring during afternoon study.
Mid way through the hellish class, Damian noticed your leg bouncing constantly under the table, your eyes glassy and unfocused as you stared off into space. Everything was getting to you. You could hear everyone whispering to one another, each turn of the page of other student's books, the birds chirping outside. It all seemed to be louder and more irritating than it really should've been. You were snapped out of it by Damian's hand gently pressing into your knee, slowing the bouncing of your leg. "You're shaking the table." He whispered. You mumbled an apology, going back to your book and staring at it like if you glared hard enough, the equations would solve themselves.
Half an hour more of that stupid class, and the final bell rung. Students rushed from the class, Mr. Watkins screeching about the bell not being the dismissal. Nobody listened, of course. Damian gently grabbed your hand and placed it on his bag strap, a small gesture he would do to make sure that he wouldn't lose you in the crowd of rushing students. Most students spent their allocated study time in their rooms doing...whatever hormonal teens do. You know that you've been kicked out of your door a few times during the study time so your roommate, Jess, can bang her boyfriend in peace. It always made you feel a little irritated, because that was your room too. You should have a say in whether or not he gets to come over. Having someone new in your space always made you anxious. And he always tried to talk to you about stuff. It was just awkward.
4 p.m. An hour before the pep rally started. You'd finished writing down Damian's notes in your own language book a few minutes ago, and now he was walking you to your dorm just to make sure you didn't get distracted with something else and ended up having to rush and skip out on things in your mental routine. You'd said your goodbyes at the door, and he'd left you to go to his own dorm to freshen up, just down the hall. When you entered your room, the stench of sweat and sex assaulted your senses, and you noticed Jasper, Jess' boyfriend, laying on her bed completely naked. He greeted you with a quick nod before putting his head back down on the pillow, exhausted. You quickly made your way to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh uniform and your ironed blazer, hanging it up in the bathroom.
The warm water from the shower loosened your muscles and made you relax a little more. Washing your hair, washing your face, scrubbing yourself clean of the day's events and stress made you feel a little better. But the looming shadow of the pep rally was far darker than it should've been. It had been weighing heavy on your shoulders all day. You didn't particularly want to see Jasper again, so you got dressed in the bathroom, ignoring the banging on the door telling you to hurry up. He wasn't your friend or your boyfriend. You didn't have to do anything for him.
Once you were dressed and out of the bathroom, it hit 5 p.m. You began making your way down to the football fields where the pep rally was being held. Your hands shook and your body felt too warm as you shuffled through the large crowd of people, unable to find Damian. The feeling of people brushing against your body and shoving against you in order to get to their friends winded you, your lungs feeling like they were too small, like they couldn't get enough air. It felt like you were drowning in this crowd, the loud music playing from the speakers sounding distorted and like it was aimed directly at you, your face feeling hot and your body struggling to move.
Damian eventually found you. Struggling to move between a pair of jocks who were teasing you for crying, poking your body and grabbing you to make you more distressed, hiccupping and sobbing between gasps for air. He made his way over to you quickly and shoved the two jocks out of the way, not caring how much smaller he was than both of them. The sight of the heir of Wayne quickly made the two shut up and move away from you. He took your hand and whispered to you, "Let's go." He moved, dragging you behind him, glaring at anyone who dared look their way or whisper about the situation.
The quiet and uncrowded space of the art hallway made you feel a little better. The cold air coming in from the windows cooling your overheated skin, but it wasn't enough. You ripped the blazer from your body, loosening your tie and undoing a couple of the top buttons of the formal shirt you wore. One downside of the school was the tight, uncomfortable uniforms. With all the constricting layers of clothing off or loosened, you felt like you could finally breathe, the tears stopped streaming. You sat yourself on the floor, your back against the wall, Damian sitting down beside you.
"Thank you. For...helping me." You murmured, unable to look at Damian. "It's fine. You were distressed." He noted the embarrassment on your face, also taking note of the difficulty keeping eye contact. The music coming from outside was still very faintly coherent. "It's a shame. They were good songs. Just too loud." You chuckled to yourself quietly, biting your lip as you looked at the swirling patterns of the floors. "It's not your fault. I can only get through things like this when I think of Alfred." Damian nodded, looking down the hall at the doors, trying to listen for anyone coming. "Your butler?" You questioned, looking at him quizzically. "No, my cat." He laughed. You had a strange way of asking the dumbest questions while looking like an innocent little fawn.
"You have a cat?" You asked, your voice raising slightly in excitement, perking up a whole lot more. "Yes, and a dog named Titus. And a cow." Damian fought the urge to smile at your excitement at the mention of his animals. You seemed to love animals a whole lot. The many books you had about their anatomy and behaviors certainly said that about you. "A cow?! How come you never told me this before?" You gasped, your feet tapping against the floor, a sparkle in your eyes. The two of you talked for ages, until even after the rally was over. Only moving once you were told to by a janitor, being told to go to your respective rooms for the night.
Once at your door, you shyly hugged Damian, who wrapped his arms around you tightly, finding he enjoyed the feeling of you against his chest a whole lot more than he thought he would. "Thank you, again." You smiled at him. "It's no problem. I am glad we share a lot of interests." Damian nodded, gently taking your hand in his and kissing it before stepping back. "Sleep well, Habibi. I'll meet you at the dining hall tomorrow." You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat at the nickname and the kiss, entering your room to retire for the night. Damian entered his own room and looked at his phone, a text from his father coming through. "I've been told you're making friends. Well done." Bruce's text read. Damian huffed, rolling his eyes. He wanted it to be more than just friends.
CW: Fluff, Jason has a desperate need to keep his little alien from getting themselves into trouble, but it seems that trouble always finds them no matter what.
Summary: A few years after discovering and meeting a Viltrumite, Jason had made quite good friends with the little alien. They were like his super, just not Kryptonian. But they still had a little trouble with getting the hang of using some human appliances. A toaster, for example...
"This thing....strange." You muttered to yourself, turning the dials of the toaster up and down, finding delight in the clicking noise. Jason had made himself some egg and avocado on toast for breakfast before heading to the gym, leaving you to your own devices in his home.
Jason absolutely adored you, finding your cluelessness about most of humanity endearing. And you seemed especially curious about his kitchen appliances. He's noticed more than 10 times your eyes following him intently in the kitchen as he cooked a meal for himself. He'd even caught you poking around in his cabinets.
As he worked on his arms, bench pressing 500 lbs with ease, he couldn't help but wonder what you were doing. Getting yourself into trouble, no doubt. When he got home, Jason could smell a mixture of burnt toast and your strong scent. Right. You'd seen him make toast this morning, and you hadn't really watched how he set up the toaster.
He walked in to see you slumped over on the floor in the kitchen, eating your charcoal (toast) with a defeated look gracing your gorgeous features. "Burnt..." you muttered, grimacing as you took another bite. "Strange appliance." You glanced to the side as you heard footsteps approaching, perking up a bit when you noticed Jason was home. "You don't have to eat it if it tastes gross." Jason chuckled, taking your plate of toast away and chucking it out.
He turned back to you and noticed the pout on your face, glaring at him like a disgruntled kid. "What? It was burnt! I'm not letting you eat that." Jason chuckled, picking you up and plopping you down on the kitchen counter, turning down the dial and slotting more bread into the toaster. After a couple minutes, it came out a gorgeous golden brown and crispy, perfectly toasted. "What do you want on it? Peanut butter? Jam? Avocado and tomato? Tuna?" He asked, one hand resting on your thigh.
"Peanut butter and tuna." You said proudly, beaming at Jason like you'd just won the lottery. "One or the other, 'vincible." Jason teased, using the nickname he'd come up with per the other Viltrumite superhero across the country. "Spread or fish?" He gently cupped your cheek, stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb. "Spread." You confirmed, leaning into his touch. It was nice. You loved how safe this felt. Being in his arms. The soft rumble of a purr ricocheting from your chest made Jason's own warm, his heart beating harder against his ribcage as he held you a little closer.
"Spread it is." He murmured, picking the now toasted bread from the toaster and placing it down on the chopping board next to it, grabbing a butter knife from his cutlery drawer and spreading the smooth peanut butter over the crisp bread. He put the plate in your lap and stroked your hair as you dug in, eating rabidly like you were a dog that hadn't been fed in days. "Careful. Don't choke." He chuckled, rubbing your thigh softly. As you finished the last bite of your delectable meal, Jason wiped the crumbs off your cheek gently and carefully. "You're so messy." He teased, grinning at the red flush coming over your cheeks.
"Maybe the human tradition of a lunch date tomorrow might teach you to be a little neater." Jason teased, easing you off the counter, his large hands cupping the back of your thighs as he carried you into the living room, sitting on the couch with you straddling his meaty thighs. "Whaddya say? 11 am, tomorrow at the nice little cafe next to the park? Cool? Cool." Jason smacked your ass lightly with a confident grin. He relished in your shocked little gasp, his thumbs digging into the flesh of your hip. "Say yes, little alien." He advised. "...Yes." you nodded, clinging to Jason's mammoth frame harder. "I will...go on the date. With you."
CW: Fluffy, Dami being annoying. He seriously can't leave you alone. Like, at all. A war between the two of you on who can get in the most trouble with everyone around them.
Summary: After a particularly hard night of patrol, Damian doesn't come home. At least, not to Wayne manor. No, he goes to your house because he knows you'll be awake. All he wants to do is curl up next to (or on top of) his lover.
⌕: pt 1, pt 2 ✓
You woke to the familiar sound of rain hitting the roof of your home, sitting up in bed with a yawn, stretching your arms out up above your head. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes with your fist, shuffling around to slide off the side of your bed. You waddled out from your room to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the tap, sipping on it to soothe your hoarse throat.
After you'd finished that glorious glass of midnight water, you went back to your room, spying a little flash of green jumping from roof to roof towards your house. You unlocked your window for him before laying back down, making him a comfy little spot next to you despite knowing he'd likely be on top of you the minute he laid down.
Just as you thought, the sound of the window opening was accompanied by a sudden weight laying itself on top of you. "Dami..." You mumbled, your hand coming up to tangle itself in his hair, scratching his scalp softly as he let out a sigh into your collarbone. "Rouhi. I'm not getting up." Damian mumbled, trailing his lips down your neck, his thick lashes kissing the sensitive skin of your neck, leading you to squirm under his weight. "You're too heavy." You whined, pushing at his shoulders.
"No. Staying." Damian huffed, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter. He nuzzled into your shoulder, rubbing his face against you like an affectionate cat, ignoring your whines and complaints. He leaned up to press a kiss to your lips, silencing your whines. He felt your body go limp under his, melting into the kiss.
You cupped his face, pulling away for a second before diving back in, kissing his again, needily, this time. He growled against your lips, pinning your squirming body down on the mattress. "Sit still." He growled, nipping at your bottom lip. You sighed in content, feeling him trail kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving a little bitemark just under the neckline of your shirt. Easy to hide, but also easy to see if you were looking for it.
"I have work tomorrow, you ass!" You pushed him off you, glaring at him with what you thought would be a death glare, but to him, you just looked like a grumpy kitten with a tummy full of soup in your cute little pyjamas. "You mustn't worry, Habibi. Your shirt will cover it." Damian assured you, poking your cheek.
You laid down again, covering your face with a pillow, groaning into it. Damian laid down next to you, gathering you up in your life fluffy blanket to keep you from trying to hit him or escape, cradling you close to his lean body. "I will kill anyone who dares mention it." Damian declared, rubbing your back comfortingly. "If I have one, you have to as well." You purred and practically pounced on him, giving him a mark in the exact same place. And thus, began the all-out marking war that got you and Damian in trouble many times with your families, teachers, and even your coworkers. An eye for an eye, they say. How about a Hickey for a Hickey?
Me: giggling and kicking my feet at how sweet Tim is to reader and Roxy. Curious how long Tim knew reader and how reader got the Job?
Maybe Tim’s first meeting with Roxy? Did he love the little angel when he met her? I imagine Tim just sees Roxy as a carbon copy of her mother and it endears him so much.
Tim only knew reader from after her interview with him. She'd worked for him for a few days before she got a call in the middle of a conversation with him in the break room and stepped out to answer it. Tim maybe might have eavesdropped just a little. But he heard a little voice on the other side of the phone asking when mummy was coming back. From then on, if she even hinted that something was awry with Roxy, Tim would let her leave. Kept her on the roster so she wouldn't struggle to find money for food or rent. Even threw in a little extra for Roxy to get some new toys or clothes. He absolutely adores Roxy when reader has to bring her in, showing her all the statistics of the company, the stocks, even the national demographics. Even if she doesn't understand it, Roxy always gives the best advice, such as, "If we buy more stocks in cookies, then we can have a billion more dollars!"
1. How did Damian and reader become friends? How did their first meeting went? I’m assuming the readers oblivious dense self helped in part to the friendship lasting through Damian’s rude judging comments and horrible attitude the first few years in Gotham when he was obsessed with being the blood son of the bat?
2. How did reader found out about Damian being Robin?
3. What is the family opinion on reader? Obviously they must like her somewhat for sticking by Damian side for so many years?
4. What was the moment Damian fell in love? And what was the moment he Realized he was in love with reader?
5. Also when did Damian first called reader habiti?
1. I firmly believe that reader is a highly extroverted person and wants to make friends with absolutely everybody. Damian was new to the class and reader offered to show him around and be his buddy for the day as per the system in the school. They stayed by his side all day and talked non-stop to him, trying to figure him out. His dense exterior never cracked, but the insistence of this little pest made him soften up a bit after a few weeks. He gave them tiny hints and details. Told them about his pets. Then, he was informed how much reader adored animals, almost as much as he did. That's when he really started to crumble.
2. Damian has always been superb at keeping secrets from people, hiding injuries, and creating diversions to avert their eyes from his nightly patrols. However, with those sad puppy dog eyes looking up at him as they patched him up and begged to know what was going on, Damain knew damn well he couldn't keep lying to his sweet friend.
3. The Batfamily absolutely adore reader. They're so sweet and carefree, helping Alfred cook or clean, trimming the plants when they get too bushy, and especially because they've kept Damian's secret. That was their biggest threat. Even when they'd been captured and tortured for information, they didn't let out a peep.
4. On that note, it was when reader was back in his arms safe and sound after that whole fiasco that Damian knew he'd fallen for them. Feeling their face press against his chest while they cried and assured him they didn't say anything. Told him they'd rather die than betray his secret. In that moment Damian knew he'd trust them with his life and to hold his heart with the gentle grip they liked to hold his hand in when anxious.
5. Damian first began calling reader nicknames like 'Habibi' and 'Rouhi' when he'd realised just how deeply under their spell he was. He knew they didn't know what it meant and would be too shy to ask him, so he kept it a secret. After all, they had a Nickname for him too, right?
I loved your what are we fic! But if I’m curious, how long into the friendship did reader and Damian were just comfortable sleep in the same bed and Damian hugging her like she’s his wife while she’s just oblivious to it? No wait how long did his brothers have to watch Damian basically cling to reader and watch his face drop when she drops the “oh no we just friends.” Whenever someone ask her if they are dating? He seems really chill holding her close so they obviously are use to physical affection but not in an official relationship? Seriously this is just funny in of itself. Damian doing relationship things and reader just so dense but also being chill with it.
I like to think that Reader and Damian have been friends since he arrived in Gotham to meet his father. And Damian is such an emotionally constipated fuck due to the years of conditioning that he found the only way he could express his feelings was through physical touch, and the reader just assumed he'd never really been friends with anyone before because of the league so they just let him and thought nothing of it.
CW: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff. A very stressed Damian trying to think of a way to inadvertently tell you that he likes you very much. A lot more than you really think he does.
Summary: The morning after you came over to your good friend Damian's house for a movie marathon seeing as you were both spending Valentine's Day by yourselves, you wake up wrapped in his strong arms smelling like his shampoo and body wash. You just can't help yourself from asking the dreaded question, "What are we?"
⌕: pt 1 ✓, pt 2
Your body felt heavy and warm, your eyes cloudy as you opened them, feeling a very familiar pair of arms wrapped around you, keeping you close to his body. Muscle hardened from the years working under his father, the Bat, as Robin. And from training with his mother and grandfather for as long as he can remember. Nonetheless, his large hands kept you close to him, one gently resting on the back of your head, keeping your face pressed close to his chest, his heart beating steadily against your cheek.
The soft silk of his sheets felt cooling against your body, warmed from the early humidity of Gotham's sweltering summers. Despite the reputation Gotham had for being a gloomy, grimy city, it definitely had one of the hottest, wettest summers that you think you could ever stand. It must have been forecasted that it would rain later, as you watched Alfred and Bruce haul some of the potted plants from inside out into the gardens through the gap of the curtains from Damian's room.
He groaned quietly and shifted, rolling over to lay on his other side, dragging you with him. "Dames." You poked his cheek, watching his brows furrow in his sleep. You didn't want to disturb him because he looked so peaceful, but you had to pee. "Dami." You tried again, this time gently raking his hair out of his face. Your heart beat a little harder when he opened those gorgeous green eyes and stared at you intensely.
"What?" He rasped out quietly, yawning and stretching his arms out afterwards, releasing you before bringing his hand back down to rest on your thigh. "Good morning to you, too, sunshine." You said sarcastically, shimmying out of bed despite Damian's attempts to keep you locked in his arms next to him. "I've gotta pee, genius." You huffed as you wandered over to the ensuite tucked away in the corner of Damian's room.
"Come back quick, Rouhi." Damian muttered, sitting up and shuffling back to lean against his headboard, watching your form disappear into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. He ran his hands down his face, rubbing his eyes to rid them of the heavy feeling waking up brought with it. Damian slid off his bed elegantly, walking over to his closet and grabbing a new shirt, spraying on some deodorant before pulling on his shirt, a graphic tee with the poster of a movie you both loved on it, a matching one with you, of course.
The door to the bathroom swung open again, revealing your form looking a little fuller of life, hair and teeth brushed, wearing a new pair of clothes as you carried your pajamas over your shoulder, walking over to where your overnight bag sat on Damian's floor and stuffing them inside. "Much better, Habibi." Damian smiled, that little upturn of his lips reserved only for you, like it was some holy thing that he'd only ever show before a celestial being of some kind. "What time should I head home?" You asked casually, checking your phone for any messages from your parents or anything you needed to urgently respond to from any of your other friends. Mostly just stories showing their parters and the romantic nights they had with them going on dates.
You scoffed and put your phone face down on Damian's bedside table, feeling his arms wrap around your midsection and lift you up, flopping back down onto the bed with you, wrestling you into a position where he had you pinned. Your faces were so close, you could count each and every dark lash framing those deep green eyes you adored so much, every single beauty mark normally hidden from the naked eye. Damian paused for a second, seeing the look on your face. His brows furrowed again as he sat back on his heels, helping you sit up. "What's wrong, Rouhi? You look troubled." He poked at your bottom lip as if that would make you tell him all that troubled you.
"Nothing. Just..." You trailed off, feeling your face heat up, averting your eyes from his as you held his shoulders. You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning forward and burying your face in his chest. "What are we?" You murmured. Damian's body tensed as he heard those words. The words he dreaded you'd ask. Or maybe he wanted to hear them from you. Wanted you to ask how he felt about you so he could finally stop being held back by the label of friends. "Rouhi..." Damian gently pushed you back, looking into your eyes deeply, hearing the thumping of his heart in his ears as he considered saying how he really felt. He was safe here, he wouldn't he called weak for expressing how he felt, he wouldn't be punished. He could just be himself.
"I love you. I have for a very long time, Habibi. I'm unsure if you are oblivious or just slow, but you have never seemed to pick up on it. But that's what is so endearing about you to me. Your slowness in math, so you ask for me help. How you ask me to come study with you. To proofread any of your essays. I adore how you always come to me for issues you are having. Beloved, my heart aches every time you call us just friends when I so desperately wish to be more to you. Allow me to prove my worth to you as more. Please." Damian admitted, his eyes screwing shut, pressing one of your hands to his chest over his erratically beating heart.
"Dami..." The soft murmur made his heart jump. It didn't sound any particular way. But he was bracing himself for the rejection anyway. The soft press of your lips against his had him thinking his soul was ascending. He thought he was dreaming. But he wasn't. You were right in front of him, smiling at him like he'd told you he'd bring the moon to Earth if you asked it of him, with teary eyes and a snotty nose. "I love you more." You hiccupped, sniffling as you buried your face into his shoulder once more, feeling his hand come up to cup the back of your head, this time with the gentleness of a man handling his most prized possession. "Be mine, Habibi. I'll be so good to you." Damian whispered to you, and the press of your lips to his skin was the acceptance he got. He had never been this happy. Or this comfortable.
But he'd be damned if he let this all go to waste.
CW: fem!reader, fluff, Tim being an awkward little shit. Mention of a traumatic sexual incident in reader's past, resulting in a child. Mention of past teen pregnancy.
Summary: Your boss has been giving you some extra attention lately. More paid time off, some extra sick days, even coming around to spend time with your daughter. You just didn't know how absolutely smitten he was with you and your little girl.
You sat back in your comfy office chair, glancing occasionally at your young daughter. She was turning 4 this week. But the poor thing had caught a virus and was unable to be babysat at your apartment as usual while you were at work due to it. Luckily, your boss gave you permission to bring her into work today to monitor her.
Roxy was the result of an unfortunate drunk encounter with a pushy high school classmate. You'd been drinking at a party with your friends, who'd all eventually ditched you in an effort to chat up some of the lads there, leaving you vulnerable and susceptible to persuasion. Hence why you ended up in a heated bedroom with no condom on.
You were only 16 when you gave birth to her. At first, you couldn't bear to look at Roxy. That nose and those eyes so similar to the assaulter. But, over time, you learned to love her. She wasn't him. She was your sweet little girl. The same sweet little girl that had wandered off while you were lost in thought and had brought you back a clueless present walking behind her.
"Mama!" She cooed, climbing up into your lap, gently gripping at your blazer with her sticky hands. "Yes, Hun?" You replied, placing your palm gently against her forehead to check if the Panadol was working and bringing her fever down. "Tim!" Roxy squealed happily, pointing to your clueless boss, giving you and your daughter both an endearing look.
"Oh! I am so sorry. I must've let her wander off!" You panicked, your cheeks heating at the sight of your incredibly handsome boss, Tim Drake. "No need to worry. She was merely asking me for help getting some water." Tim assured you, placing down two cups. A small plastic one for Roxy, and a large mug for you.
"Drink up, sweetheart. Can't have my personal assistant getting sick now, too, can I?" Tim smiled sweetly at you, winking before turning to Roxy and ruffling her unruly locks. "And you keep flushing that virus out of your system, you got it?"
You watched his figure retreat from your office, feeling like your face was on fire. "Sweetheart?" You mumbled to yourself before shaking your head to get back on track. Picking up your mug of cold water you took a few gulps to calm your nervous system, holding Roxy's little plastic cup so she could gulp down her water, too.
"he's right, baby. Gotta stay hydrated if you're going to sweat out the sickness." You reminded her, carrying her to the little makeshift bed in the corner of the room, tucking her back in safely. You watched as she conked out, cuddling her red robin plushie, a gift from Tim. You really needed to wash it. It's probably filthy and covered in germs.
Strutting back to your desk, you got back to work, responding to emails and checking out Tim's schedule for the next couple of weeks, moving things and rescheduling if you couldn't get enough time between them for him to recharge and grab some lunch. Although you noticed on the document a large chunk of time was taken up today by something Tim had added himself. 'Help Roxy.'
You jumped a little as you heard your doors opening again, relaxing as you saw the figure of your boss enter yet again. He glanced over at Roxy before walking silently over to you, bending down to whisper in your ear as not to disturb the sleeping child a few meters away. "I got her some more meds. Didn't know what she takes so I bought a few." Tim handed you a small bag from the pharmacist down the street. Inside, liquid Panadol, liquid Nurofen, night and day cold and flu tablets, sugarcoated Nurofen tablets, small Panadol capsules. He'd really thought of everything he could buy for her.
"Thank you so much, but you didn't have to do this." You whispered, hands trembling slightly as you closed the bag back up. "I didn't have to. But I wanted to." Tim reassured, gently cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I'd do anything to keep that kid comfortable. And you, too." Tim mumbled, his warm breath brushing over your lips. You couldn't help but lean in, closing your eyes.
You felt the soft sensation of Tim's lips pressing to yours, and in an instant, your heart felt like it was soaring. When Tim pulled back you were afraid to open your eyes, but his rough hand stroking the crease between your eyebrows pulled you back into reality. "There's that pretty face." He cooed, brushing his nose against yours gently. "Call me when she wakes up. I want to see my favorite girls being taken care of." Tim uttered.
With one final kiss, he slinked off, careful not to make too much noise. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, and your face felt hotter than a thousand suns. But you knew that had really just happened. You had kissed your boss. And he'd kissed you back.
CW: Fluff, very suggestive. Jason being a teasing little asshole. Light drug use (Marijuana).
Summary: You came over to your friend Jason's apartment, as he'd invited you to relax. You didn't expect his version of relaxation to involve rolling papers and filters.
Your knuckles rapped softly against the old wood of Jason's door, the paint peeling from the swollen wood. The past few days, Gotham had been dealing with torrential rain, pouring down from the cloudy skies, swelling most of the wood in old apartment buildings with the moisture in the air. "Jay!" You called from outside, a large grin on your face as you waited for your friend to let you in, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
You'd been to Jason's apartment many times, but mostly on strict vigilante business. Planning, getting patched up, or just showing up at his window in the middle of the night when he had a night off patrol just to fuck with him. You heard the heavy footsteps from inside the apartment approaching the door, the knob turning and the door swinging open, revealing a grinning Jason.
"Couldn't wait t'see me, huh?" He raised a brow down at you in a teasing manner, watching your eyes narrow at the strong smell of Marijuana emanating from his apartment, the ribbons of smoke still curling in the air over by the ripped and old couch plopped right in front of the TV. "You stink." You huffed, squeezing past his huge frame and finding yourself in his living room, looking around at the poor state of his apartment.
"Thought you'd live somewhere a little nice. Y'know, considering you're Bruce Wayne's son and all." You sighed, arms crossed over your chest as you turned back to face Jason, his expression darkening a little at the mention of his adoptive father. "Adoptive son. And I don't need his money to live on my own. If I want something I'll go to the manor and steal it. He can afford to buy more stuff." Jason grumbled, sliding his arm around your body, his large hand splayed out on the small of your back as he slowly pushed you towards the couch.
"Sit down, c'mon. Didn't invite you here t'insult my apartment." Jason stated, picking you up bridal style, ignoring your protests as he plopped you down on the couch. despite its old state, the cushions were actually quite comfortable. He flopped down next to you, his weight causing the couch to creak in response. "You're going to break this thing one day, fatass." You teased him, elbowing him lightly in the arm as he grabbed his half smoked joint from the table, picking up the lighter on the coffee table and lighting it again, the ribbons of smoke curling around his large fingers as he took a drag.
"You wanna take a hit?" He offered you, his eyes glassy and his lips settled in a comfortable smile as he held the lit joint out to you between his thumb and pointer finger. "Ah, no, thank you. I haven't smoked before." You responded, gently pushing his hand away. "What, like, ever?" He asked, his eyes widening. "Yeah." You nodded, now feeling a little embarrassed about your inexperience.
"It's not that bad. I promise." Jasona assured you, still holding the lit joint, watching your eyes fix on it nervously, your hands fiddling with the hem of your T-shirt. "I don't know..." You mumbled, glancing up at Jason's face again before looking back down, biting at the skin on the inside of your lip. "I'll help you. Just tell me if you wanna stop." Jason slid closer to you on the couch, his hand settling on your hip to pull you a little closer into his side.
He brought the joint up to his lips, watching your eyes track his movements, pulling in a smaller amount of air than he usually would for a drag, the red cherry on the end of the joint glowing as the marijuana inside burned, being pulled through the filter. He put the joint down on the table in an ash tray, cupping your face as he leaned in closer, pressing his lips to yours softly.
When you opened your mouth to gasp, he blew the smoke he was holding in his mouth into yours, watching your reaction as he pulled back, rubbing your back gently as you couched from the new sensation, eyes watering. "You ass!" You coughed, but that didn't stop you from leaning into his touch more. "What's wrong? Can't handle a bit of weed?" He cooed at you, a smirk gracing his lips as he watched you snatch the joint from its place in the ash tray, bringing it up to your own lips and taking a drag, managing well enough with only a few small coughs.
"Oh, good girl." he praised, stroking your hair with his free hand, taking the joint back with the other, watching as your brain got slightly fogged, your eyes going glassy as the high worked its way into your head, your muscles relaxing, sinking you further into the couch. "Good girl." He drawled out again, patting your thigh, his large hand coming to grip it as he took one last drag of the joint, stubbing out the joint in the ash tray.
"Jay..." You mumbled, looking up at him needily. You crawled over into his lap, straddling his thighs as you pressed little kisses and nips along his jaw, feeling his warm palms come to rest on your hips, not gripping but just holding you in place, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones. "Mmn." He moaned softly, pulling you closer to him, grabbing your chin and pressing a kiss to your lips.
He rolled you over without breaking the kiss, your back pressed to the couch with him on top of you, his hips slotted between your thighs. he pulled back slightly from the kiss, watching your face go red as you whined up at him. "So you're a needy little thing when high, huh?" He teased, feeling you roll your hips against his. Trying to calm the warm ache settling itself between your thighs, only worsening when you heard Jason's voice with that teasing lilt.
"Don't worry. I'll give you what y'want." Jason purred, kissing and sucking at the skin on your neck, pressing his hips firmly against yours, giving you that friction that you needed so desperately in this state. His own hips rolled against yours, matching your rhythm and intensity. Your moans and gasps echoed in the empty space of the apartment, filling the once cold space with the warmth of your presence.
CW: Fluff, husband!Bruce being a loser for his wife.
Summary: One of the baby bats is sick, and you're mother henning all over them. Bruce doesn't think he's ever been more in love.
A/N: Special Tim appearance with this! Enjoy!
"Oh, sweetie." You sighed, gently stroking Tim's hair as he coughed, his brain fogged and slow due to the illness. "Have you been taking your antibiotics?" You scolded him gently, holding up his pack of prescribed Levofloxacin, counting out the few meds he had taken. Tim had been sick for days now, his weak immune system having trouble fighting off the pneumonia in his lungs. You meticulously draped a blanket over Tim, fluffing up his pillows and helping him settle into the soft little nest you'd made for him to curl up in.
Bruce stood behind you, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the two of you as you fussed over a whining Tim. "You won't get better!" You sighed, your hand coming to cup Tim's cheek, feeling the warmth and claminess of his skin. Bruce fiddled with the wedding band around his ring finger anxiously, staring down at Tim's pale and sickly face, curled up on his bed. He coughed, wincing at the burning sensation it brought through his throat, you still fretting over him like he was an infant.
"Maybe we need to take you to a hospital, Tim." Bruce sighed with resignation, his large hand coming to rest on his wife's shoulder. You nodded in tandem. "I'll call Alfred and tell him to pack a little bag for Tim." You stood up, walking out of the room with confident strides, Bruce following closely behind, ignoring Tim's whines of protest. The large door shut behind you two, muffling Tim behind them.
Before you could wander off down the hall, Bruce caught your wrist and pulled you to his broad chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, the tip of your nose. To your cheek, to your temple, then finally, one to your lips. Smearing the lipstick you wore onto his own lips and slightly across your soft skin. "You're such a mother hen." He chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours.
"I can't help it. He looks so miserable when sick." You sighed, your hand slipping into his much larger one, relishing in the warmth of his palm against yours. "He can't keep any food or liquid down, and he's got pneumonia. But he won't even take his meds, Bruce!" You blubbered on anxiously, finally being shut up by a pair of familiar lips on your own.
"You look so gorgeous." Bruce's mouth was moving faster than his brain. He noticed you were slightly breathless when he pulled back, happy to be the one to be able to do that to you. "I need to go find Alfred." You murmured, hesitantly pulling away from your husband.
"Be quick. I want you back in my arms as soon as possible." Bruce called out as you wandered down the hall, watching your figure disappear around the corner. God, he couldn't help the way his heart pounded each time you were near. Even watching you fret over his children was endearing. He was so gone for you, and he knew it. You knew it. His kids knew it. Alfred knew it. The whole of Gotham knew it. And he wouldn't change a damn thing if it meant that everybody knew you were his wife.
Summary: You and your roommate go grocery shopping for the first time, with a surprise back at the apartment from his little brother.
@cursed-carmine (for the divider!)
Authors note: This isn't really that good, and the ending is absolute shit, but please forgive me as I was very sleep deprived when I wrote this.
"Do we really need that?" You questioned your new roommate with a raised eyebrow as he picked up a large 1kg bag of edamame, grinning at you with that perfect golden boy smile. "Yeah, its super high in protein. Gotta keep that up if I wanna keep all this muscle." Dick smirked, flexing his biceps in his tight white T-shirt.
"But we need to buy a bunch of other stuff. We can come back to that if we can afford it after the other groceries." You sighed, shaking your head as you continued to push the squeaky, unstable cart down the aisle of the closest grocery store to you and Dick's new apartment in Bludhaven.
"You're being so mean. How am I to protect the city without hitting my protein goal?" Dick whined, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking up at you through his thick black lashes, his piercing blue eyes melting your heart, making you feel a little dizzy as you looked at him longer.
"We've got tons of meat already, you dont need a whole kilo of edamame." You groaned, pushing Dick's heavy body away from you, continuining your long journey towards the feminine hygeine isle.
Dick dragged his feet along behind you, dramatic as ever. He huffed and puffed, his arms crossed over his heavy chest. "You're such a drama queen." You teased him, gently elbowing him in the arm.
Dick rolled his eyes playfully at you, taking over the job of pushing the cart and changing course, chucking some nutritional yeast and some kamut into the cart. For you, of course.
The walk back to the apartment was long, weaving through people not paying attention to where they were walking, Dick insisting on taking the stairs up to the apartment instead of the elevator, telling you it'll help 'build muscle', but you knew he just wanted to stare at you going up the stairs like a little puppy.
Opening the door and being greeting by the smell of fresh air from the open window was nice, the cool breeze blowing against your warm, sweaty skin as you hauled two heavy bags of groceries in and onto the kitchen counter.
"Did we open that?" You asked Dick, pointing to the window. "No. I thought you did?" He asked, a hand on your hip as he pulled you behind him, trying to shield you with his body.
"Well, Dickface. Didn't know you got a new roommate." A familiar drawl came from the couch, a man with a tuft of white hair in his fringe smirking up at Dick from his spot on the plush couch. "Jason!" Dick yelped.
Summary: The morning after a tiring night with your big, dopey boyfriend.
The golden light of the early Gotham morning warmed your face, the hard, muscled body of your boyfriend pressed against you from behind. It was one of the few days that Gotham wasn't overcast or filled with that gloomy feeling of dread seemingly embedded into each and every inch of the crime ridden city. You loved the city, you truly did, but the truth was that this city was one of the least favored in the world to live in. The only reason people were attracted to Gotham was due to the generous billionaire who seemed to have a slight adoption problem.
The feeling of Jason's rough hands, calloused from countless years as Red Hood and protecting Gotham, running along your soft skin made you shiver. He pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, taking a large inhale of the scent of your shampoo and conditioner. "Smell s'good." Jason murmured against your sensitive skin, his lips brushing against the soft skin, stopping when he got the junction of your throat connecting to your shoulders.
The only response he got was a quiet hum from you, the sound low and soft, vibrating the skin against his lips. Your body turned, Jason rolling you over until you were laying on your stomach, pressing kisses along your body as he slowly inched down, reaching the soft curve of your spine, poking his tongue out and licking his way back up to your neck, smirking at your squirming form underneath him, caging you in with his huge frame, laying all 225 pounds of himself onto your much smaller form.
"Jay!" You squealed, muffled by the soft pillow.
"Y'could always just give me a kiss." He coaxed, his rough hand gently grabbing your chin and turning your head to the side. "C'mon, pretty girl. Wasn't I good enough last night? Don't I deserve a reward?" He teased, giving you those puppy dog eyes he seemed to have perfected the minute he noticed you gave in every single time he did them. Your groan was muffled by the pillow, but Jason gave you enough room to squirm around and turn to face him, predicting you'd do exactly that.
He let out the softest noise as your warm lips pressed against his, the highlight to every morning he wakes up next to you. His hips twitching against yours under the soft, fluffy blanket you two were laying under. "Hey..." You scolded him between kisses. Once he had gotten one, you knew he wouldn't stop until you both were satisfied. "I've got time. Bruce isn't expecting me there till 10." He reassured, his large hand cupping your jaw, gently pushing his thumb between your plush lips, shuffling his way down to rest between your thighs, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
And you knew, you'd be in for a long morning. But you wouldn't change it for the world.