contents : drabble — what’s better than a game night with your boyfriend? A game night with your boyfriendS! fluff m!reader masterlist.
It was very late. very late. Tim is working and well—he can pretty much provide for both of you. You, and Bernard decided to pull an all nighter.. without him. He! The master of all-nighters.
“Bern! stop eating all the chips, I need some too!” Of course the blonde only laughed at you, as he doomscrolled on his phone.
“Wanna play a game? Join me.”
He pointed at his phone as he snuggled up next you. You two played for a while, not even noticing the notification that popped up saying Tim was home.
“Hi guys?” he came in, weirded out by all those lights on, though he figured you two were just getting frisky. “Hey! You traitors!! playing games without me? You know i can leave that house at any time.. didn’t even try to call me…!” He pouted, throwing his things on the floor as he flew on top of you and bern, the poor guy whimpering with the sudden weight.
“You’re gonna crush him, Tim!!” you laughed, tackling the pale boy out of Bernard.
“Join us too Timmy. Don’t eat my chips.”
Just before you notice, there’s bird chirping around, for god’s sake, it’s 7 in the morning and you three haven’t had a thought about going to sleep. I guess that’s just the dream life.
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context: the blood children first gala was.. well—something. it’s always something when it comes to this family masterlist.
It’s overwhelming, all the attention, the flashes and the fake smiles. You stick close to your brother, Damian. You two feel almost sick with it. I guess there’s no media-training in the League. He mutters that is mostly a complaint as you both sit down on your designated table.
People think they know everything about you now. They’re already taking their conclusions of who’s the quieter one and who brings more trouble. There isn’t an answer to any of these questions. Though they’re not directed at you, you both can still tell people are starring. Damian would be very much satisfied if they stopped. “Do you think we’re gonna make it to the front panel?” you ask, sarcastically. it’s impressive that people care so much. Damian clicks his tongue and nods with a small, smug smirk.
It sounds like it’s going to be a long event. Dick hypes you two up from time to time with a thumbs up and that stupid smile of his. Which you two ignore. This isn’t enjoyable, and Damian seems to be tenser than you. This would be anyone’s nightmare, now think about how bad this is for someone who has highly enhanced senses. It’s hell.
“I feel dizzy. Seriously.” you turn to him, adjusting your tie to be more lose, which Tim warns you not to, unless you want trouble. Damian rolls his eyes by your side, loosening his own.
“I told you not to drink so many sodas. You’re sugar high.”
“That’s not the point, Damian. I don’t like it here. Can we just ask father to leave? This is pointless. A bunch of rich people pretending they care about children that need charity.”
“Fine. But you’re asking.”
you huff, both of you making your way to the private conversation of your father. Just like he taught you—you put your hand on his shoulder for a second, letting him acknowledge your presence before choosing whether he has time for whatever bullshit you want now. He lowers himself to your level, tilting his head to listen to your request.
“Father.. We need to leave. I don’t feel good.”
Listen, Bruce has enough kids, he’s heard this one before. He’ll feign compassion and will take you home this time, though. He knows how whether Damian or you will get if your needs are neglected. Specially something so stressful like this. Though Tim would argue he’s just scared of the twins. Which he really isn’t wrong about.
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context :: drabble — It’s world cup season, your favourite thing in the world !! fluff.
“Are you kidding me?!!” your yells echoed across (practically) the whole house. Tim was busy on his phone that was snatched out of his hand as you violently shook him in place.
your favourite team’s goal had just been removed for what? a foul? who cares! It’s safe to say you’re absolutely gonna cry your eyes off if they lose. Like you did last time. And last time.
“Tim! Pay attention! We have to win this and if you’re distracted you’re gonna bring bad luck!!” He only groaned but obeyed your insistent request.. he’s smirking, he likes seeing you like this. It’s cute. There’s paint all over your face in the colours of the flag of your country, every four years you’re like this. Soccer’s your life. And you were so, so excited when Damian joined a team himself.
Before Tim could even blink—there it goes, you’re hugging him so tight he can hardly breathe, there’s a bit of paint that’s smudging on his own cheek. “YES!! We did it!!! You’re gonna be my lucky charm now! I’m gonna bring you to every game ever!” You beamed. Only two more games to go, to Tim’s delight.
You jumped around and even ordered a pizza, he definitely could get used to this. Well, there’s more tomorrow, he hopes!
(Though if they lose he’s gonna be your shoulder to cry on for at least a whole week)
a/n: i swear im ending it if England doesn’t win this game. they’re my last hope after brazil!!!!!! >:(
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context :: drabble — It’s world cup season, your favourite thing in the world !! fluff.
“Are you kidding me?!!” your yells echoed across (practically) the whole house. Tim was busy on his phone that was snatched out of his hand as you violently shook him in place.
your favourite team’s goal had just been removed for what? a foul? who cares! It’s safe to say you’re absolutely gonna cry your eyes off if they lose. Like you did last time. And last time.
“Tim! Pay attention! We have to win this and if you’re distracted you’re gonna bring bad luck!!” He only groaned but obeyed your insistent request.. he’s smirking, he likes seeing you like this. It’s cute. There’s paint all over your face in the colours of the flag of your country, every four years you’re like this. Soccer’s your life. And you were so, so excited when Damian joined a team himself.
Before Tim could even blink—there it goes, you’re hugging him so tight he can hardly breathe, there’s a bit of paint that’s smudging on his own cheek. “YES!! We did it!!! You’re gonna be my lucky charm now! I’m gonna bring you to every game ever!” You beamed. Only two more games to go, to Tim’s delight.
You jumped around and even ordered a pizza, he definitely could get used to this. Well, there’s more tomorrow, he hopes!
(Though if they lose he’s gonna be your shoulder to cry on for at least a whole week)
a/n: i swear im ending it if England doesn’t win this game. they’re my last hope after brazil!!!!!! >:(
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context : You have been missing for quite a while now, and after almost dying to find you, the least thing Tim expected was to find you in the Bat-cave, unconscious and bare in a hospital bed. Though there’s something about you that’s different.
tags/warnings: any description of reader here is because well.. they’re a talon, they look pretty much the save (grey-ish skin, yellow eyes.) but I tried to keep it as neutral as possible
-> angsty, comfort stablished relationship mentions of kidnapping. mention of drugging
You don’t look… yourself. That’d be a good word to use. Tim can see your veins and they’re not blue or green or whatever other colour they can be. They’re black. Your veins—black.
Your eyes are closed, but Bruce fills him in on what happened to you. You had to be drugged or else you wouldn’t sit still.
A talon. A murderer—that’s what you have been reduced to, now. He isn’t very found of people like that; as Damian is a clear example of why he wouldn’t trust them, but… it’s you.
How could he not love you?
Your tiny whimper snaps him out of his thoughts as he rushes over to you, pushing any sibling that’s in his way.
Your eyes dart around, they’re not even the same color anymore. But the way you gaze at him it’s so recognizable, that he is now sure that this creature in front of him is in fact, you.
“We’re still trying to finish the antidote. As you know, he was injected with a serum that turned him into this machine.” Bruce warned, shooting a fleeting look at Tim who looked totally detached from reality. He’s lost in your eyes. Even if they’re not the same anymore.
You don’t speak, still you stare back.
He calls your name. And you seem to snap out of whatever transe you’re in.
“Hm?” You hum, still detached from him, partially. He holds your hands and notices how cold you are. You look and feel dead.
“We’ll get you out of this, okay?”
You don’t say anything back.
What even goes right in this guy’s life?
He spends the rest of the night by your side, watching you go in and out of your unconscious state. His love would never change for you. As he has proven multiple times to truly love in life, and in death.
Twice, now. If you’re counting.
a/n: should i make this a series? but with different batboys?
this is my first time ever requesting so can i request a tim fic x omega reader
he’s always pestering reader like in your latest fic and then reader just pounds some sense into him :P
GAAHH s
💢 Bitch !! Shut Up 💢
Warning: Sub! Bottom character, Dom! Top AMAB reader, anal penetration, established relationship. No use of (y/n)
Note: OOooo, happy you enjoyed it so much to request more!! The fic referenced is linked here.
!!------------------------------------!!
It's not your fault that you're so easy to make fun of, but existing as you are? It's like you're constantly walking into openings for Tim to comment on. Oh, you wanna scent him? How possessive...he promises he won't talk to any other omegas while he's out. Nesting? Sure, honey, here's a basket of his freshly washed laundry. So warm and clean. What? Is that not what you wanted? How dirty...
Most of the time, it's light-hearted teasing. Omegas go through enough as is, but that doesn't make Tim any less annoying. The drilling never ends with him, especially during sex. Tim loves to cosplay as a domineering alpha, crowding you onto the bed, growling and snarling to get you to keen. On occasion it works; most of the time it doesn't. Like right fucking now.
Unimpressed, you stare back out at him. Glaring at the way Tim bares his teeth. He has the right demeanor, the right vocal fry, but he'll never be able to harness that commanding alpha 'scent' that makes those with said designation so god damn annoying. It only ticks you off harder that he constantly attempts to do so, regardless.
"What? Not in the mood, my omega?" Tim coos, clearly biting back a grin. His only saving grace is the amused crinkle in his eye. He's having fun, so it's not the total end of the world. You guess.
Lightly, you snarl back at him, leaning up just slightly to nip the lip he's carelessly dangling so close. Tim hums, properly meeting you for a kiss. Your own dominance is clear, even though he puts up a decent front by pawing back at you. Eventually, his hips settle onto yours, and you guide him into switching places. You slowly increase your roughness with him. "Ah! So mean..."
With a roll of your eyes, you fall into a proper position. Shutting him up with the fingers of your right hand stuffed down his throat, and using the other to guide your slick cock harder against his own. You can feel him thinking something stupid, feeling your natural arousal soaking both of you, but luckily, he's incapable of commenting on it.
With your scent suffocating his own, Tim becomes the image of the stereotypical omega he makes fun of you for. Whining, showing off his neck, trying to present his genitalia to you. Like a whore. Your whore.
"Fuck yeah," Tim moans once you've pressed inside, clinging, clawing, and pressing back against you in order to keep you close. You're doing much of the same, latching onto the pale skin of his neck to suck and dirty. Pounding into him so hard his hips never have a chance to arch off the bed. It's amazing. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." He groans uselessly.
You adore him like this. Curled up, twisted, a doll for you to play with at your leisure. Most of all, not running his fucking obnoxious ass mouth.
wc : TIM DRAKE can’t seem to catch a break from any device he owns—and apparently, neither can you. And what’s more romantic than losing your sleep (and sanity) with your partner while arguing on twitter?
warnings : cursing not proofread it’s 7 in the morning i can’t think straight fluff.
“Are you kidding me?” Tim whisper-yelled.
You looked over at him with a muffled chuckle as you came closer to look at his screen, looking at whatever was making him mad. Still—a little dumb-ed up because of the lack of sleep, you raised your eyebrows and looked back him. “What about it?”
“Can’t you see?! Fuck—I mean sorry—this person insists my favourite character was a bully. I don’t think you get it! Mischaracterization of my favourite characters is gonna kill me, I am telling you!” He spoke in a low, but stern voice. Pointing one of his slender fingers at the blue-ish screen of his phone.
“I swear!” He huffed once more and kept angrily typing at his phone.
“Wait no—give me the phone.” you said, a mischievous smirk tugged at your mouth and you grabbed his slim phone and started angrily typing yourself. The comment got bigger and bigger while you two took turns cursing the person’s family to death.
You two munched on chips that had been long in his room. Snickering and gasping with how fast the persons replies were. Calling them unemployed as if you weren’t up at two in the morning eating chips and arguing online.
Not even noticing with how loud you’ve got. You’re no longer whispering and your hollering and howling can be heard from across the manor.
It’s really not your fault you’re so caught up in the moment you jump like a deer hearing a stick break when the lights turn on.
Maybe you even let out a little high pitched scream like a girl, which you choose not to address as the one and only Damian Wayne stood in the doorway with a glare that could kill an army. You waved a little, hunching back closer to Tim—maybe so, you’d have a chance of surviving his littlest brother.
“What the hell are the two of you doing. It’s Two oh Seven—A-M! His gaze diverted from Tim to you. You just looked back at Tim as his phone buzzed with replies.
“Go back to your room! Damian. You can’t just barge in. What if we were doing… something?” your boyfriend countered.
“I know you don’t have that much game. If I hear another yell—I promise you don’t want to see me again.” He turned the lights off, slamming the door shut.
“Oh well..” you sighed, relieved.
“Oh look!” He yelped before slapping his hand on top of his mouth to shut himself up. “they blocked me. I won.” he smirked with pride.
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a/n: this is me every time i have to defend my beloved professor Snape from the REAL bullies out there. Snape slander OR SLYTHERIN SLANDER is BANNED from my household.
wc : Damian never saw the point of kissing, he’s an ex-assassin after all, has hands that were made to choke and not caress. That is—until he meets his newest favourite thing, your tongue piercing.
tags : male!reader before this causes any commotion i picture Damian to be 15+ in all my fics as well as reader. making out tongue piercings 🤤 established relationship
“Come on, just a peck.” Having to convince your boyfriend to give you a congratulations kiss after you passed a particularly hard test was so humiliating.
“You’re such a brat! I know people who’d pay to be in your position right now…” said position is sitting as straight as a cutting board after having removed your boyfriend from on top of you.
“I am not kissing you for passing a test. Talk to me about this again when you graduate with honours.” He said, shaking his head with a soft scoff.
“With honours?! Are you kidding me? Please??” You stared up at him with big eyes, pouting a little. “I’ll be honoured to kiss you, if that counts!” You laid on your stomach, facing his crossed legs—you put your hand on his calves as you leaned closer.
Damian sharply sighed and kissed you. Before he could pull away, your hand snaked up to his jaw, keeping him in his place, as your tongue danced around with his. He noticed something odd about you—it just felt different. I mean, he’s never kissed anyone, but he’s not sure if he’s supposed to feel this way.
The cold metal he can barely feel just feels so good against his own tongue. He wonders if he can suck it a little. You notice his interest for it pretty quickly, and you pull away for a second to giggle.
“You’re such a freak… You like it?” You smirk, poking his cheek.
“I do not.” He denied, even though the blush in his face said otherwise.
“Oh you absolutely do.”
And you two go at it for some time. Damian has developed a taste for playing around with it and it’s his newest favourite thing. He keeps all his weird thoughts about to himself, of course.
But everyone else can see how messy his hair is and how swollen his lips are. And obviously, no one else missed the fact on how you seem particularly cheeky at dinner.
“You two are always up to something, aren’t you?” Jason shook his head and clicked his tongue like a worried parent. Though he was more than glad his little sibling finally had some game.
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a/n: thank you for the engagement on my other 2 posts, i’m currently working on my masterlist and would be very happy in seeing what other characters you guys would want me to write for!
wc : where rebel!reader has developed a liking for the Wayne household. Spending almost every second of his time in there—and showing to everyone else he is definitely not used to this rich life.
tags : m!reader fluff.
You’re always hanging around, and doing something. Wether that’s abusing the soundproof walls by blasting your favourite songs when you’re with Damian or Tim, or napping on the big couches they own.
It’s really not your fault and they understand it, specially your silly mistakes of not being used to what’s considered normal customs of living in a mansion. Since—well. Your parents are big, big hoarders. There isn’t a single inch of your house that isn’t covered by something, including trash and even food sometimes…
So yes—they are already very much used to your antics.
As you walk through the biggest doors you’ve ever seen and restlessly ramble to Damian about something—you don’t even notice you are dragging your mud-covered black boots through the polished marble floor until your boyfriend slaps your arm and tells you to take them off.
“Ouch! You— What was that for?” you pout and look around, trying to find the thing you just did so wrong worth of that slap.
“Your boots.” he started, pointing at the floor with a sharp sigh. “Look at the mess you’ve done!”
“And you slapped me for that? I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up—alright? Ouch.. Do you know your hand is like—super heavy? This felt like a punch..” You complained as you took off your boots, and now you’re 3 inches shorter.
“Drama queen.” He scoffed, but a light smirk tugged at his lips when he said it, watching you stare up at him with a pout.
Damian feels like a father scolding a mannerless child. And it is true, you are a very mannerless child. Specially when your favourite food is served right in front of you.
The steak is made just like you love it, it’s not like you’ve eaten much steak in your life, but well—this looks great!
Your mouth is so stuffed it takes a whole minute to chew all of what’s inside it—a single spoonful has you practically drooling on the fanciest dinner you’ve ever had.
Damian nudges you with his elbow once and you pay no mind to it. I wonder if there’s a word for being food drunk?
And then Damian does it again. And you make a muffled sound because of the food. You’re mannerless, yes. But Damian has taught you last time not to speak with your mouth open.
“You look like a squirrel.”
“Hey! I do not!” You squealed.
Damian was looking at you with a loving look of disdain. “Slow down, you’re going to choke.” he continued.
wc : first of all, nobody expected Damian to date anyone—let alone a boy. And let alone a boy like you.
🏷️ : m!reader no desc. of appearance, size, race, etc, only states that reader has a more alt style and a few piercings. jason, tim, & dick (send asks if you want other members of the batfam!).
Let’s just say the way Jason met you wasn’t the best first impression. With your pierced tongue down his little brother’s throat! You hadn’t even noticed him before Damian did and obligated him to leave his room and never—ever speak of that again.
(It’s safe to say he spoke about it to everyone)
Richard was mostly supporting—before he found out about the way you acted. You liked to say you acted like a normal teenager, the bat family if far from ‘normal’ (if getting arrested twice and having one of the lowest GPA’s of your class can be considered normal—of course.)
He gave Damian a 30 minute lecture about being careful with who he hangs out with, what’s he doing, if he’s being influenced to do anything. And more bullshit Damian didn’t care about. To this day, Richard still side-eyes you before restraining himself.
Tim had a field day with it.
Seriously. He was insufferable about it—helping Richard’s worries by fueling them up with your record. Reminding everyone that Damian has a boyfriend. You hated every second of it, even if you weren’t there to see it, Damian told you all about it through messages.
Tim just couldn’t let it go. Nope. Never.
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listen here people, the problem with every fic that contains a toxic character is that you don’t like him because he’s toxic just because he looks good
so when i see your fic and the first thing i see on the a/n is : sorry they don’t look like they actin the series because he’s disgusting there
buddy that’s exactly what the fans wanna see
i don’t want a nice nate
i want NATE the one that comes with the whole nate package 😐
okay fine he’s disgusting so what … yall arent freaks enough for these men
listen here people, the problem with every fic that contains a toxic character is that you don’t like him because he’s toxic just because he looks good
so when i see your fic and the first thing i see on the a/n is : sorry they don’t look like they actin the series because he’s disgusting there
buddy that’s exactly what the fans wanna see
i don’t want a nice nate
i want NATE the one that comes with the whole nate package 😐
okay fine he’s disgusting so what … yall arent freaks enough for these men
