clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“Where do the good boys to hide away?”

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

It was my birthday yesterday( currently 2:35am,as im writing this) but i didn’t do anything big or anything me and my partner had the house to ourselves and we watched movies,baked together and refreshed my hair dye and as we were looking at eachother i realised.Holy shit i love this guy.NOW PULL YOUR PANTS DOWN!!!!!

The diner was nearly empty at 3 AM, a few lone souls scattered in booths, nursing their late-night drinks. The neon sign outside flickered softly, casting a tired glow on the cracked vinyl seats and faded menus. You were hunched over a massive burger, the kind you didn’t bother to eat with anything but your hands. Ketchup smudged on your fingers, bits of lettuce and tomato threatening to escape with every bite.

Damian sat across from you, arms folded, watching. The way you didn’t care about manners now—just the sheer satisfaction in the way you devoured the food—something about it unsettled the usual cold precision he expected from any moment with you. He’d spent so much time trying to figure you out, your serious face, your dry wit, the sharp edge you kept tucked under polite smiles.

But now, here in this cramped booth, under flickering lights, watching you, Damian felt something shift. Not the usual frustration or impatience. Something quieter, heavier.“You know,” he said after a long pause, voice low enough to not break the fragile calm of the diner, “you look ridiculous when you eat like that.”You blinked, mid-bite, sauce dripping onto your shirt, and gave him a smirk. “Noted.”He scowled, but the crease in his brow softened as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s… you don’t do things halfway, do you?” “. “No,” you said, mouth still full, eyes gleaming with amusement and something else—comfort. “Why waste effort if you’re not going all in?Damian’s eyes stayed on you, the way the neon caught the gold flecks in your hair, the curve of your jaw as you chewed thoughtfully. It was strange, because he wasn’t thinking about fighting or tactics or any of the things he usually obsessed over.He was thinking about you. How you looked alive right here, right now, not a mask or a calculation but just… you.

“I think I might be…” He swallowed, like the words were unfamiliar weapons in his mouth. “I might be… fond of this. Of you.” You laughed softly, the sound like a warm pulse in the quiet diner. “Fond?”

“Yes,” he said, serious and awkward, the usual Damian defiance gone. “Fond. Maybe more.”

You raised an eyebrow, still holding half your burger like a trophy. “More than fond?”

Damian nodded once, decisively. “Yes. I think I—” He stopped, struggled for a moment. “I think I love you.”

You paused, mid-chew, and looked at him like you’d just been handed a secret too big to believe but too real to ignore. Then you smiled, slow and soft, not the kind that teased or challenged, but the kind that made the whole diner seem warmer.

“That’s…alot,” you said, voice steady.

“No,” Damian agreed, eyes locked with yours. “It’s just true.”

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“Walk a mile in these louboutons,they don’t wear these shits from where I’m from.”

BATBOYS X READER:when reader’s feet hurt

Does anyone elses husband/partner HAVE A HUGEEE dick.like we have been together for years now and when he pulls down his pants I still gasp,like who’s horse is that.😭

Bruce Wayne

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

• He notices your discomfort before you even say a word. You shift your weight once and he’s already offering his arm.

• Doesn’t hesitate. He picks you up bridal style without a single grunt — man’s been carrying 200-lb criminals since he was 25.

• Quietly murmurs, “You’re not walking another step. I’ve got you.”

• Will literally take off his jacket, lay it over your legs, and carry you through a gala like it’s nothing.

• Afterwards: “Next time, we’ll have flats in the car. Non-negotiable.”

⸻

Dick Grayson

“Babe, just say the word — I’ll carry you like a princess or give you a piggyback. Dealer’s choice.”

• He thinks it’s adorable and also feels guilty for not noticing sooner.

• Instantly kneels down so you can climb on his back. He’d even do a fireman carry if you let him.

• “Hey, you know I was a circus acrobat, right? You weigh less than a trapeze.”

• Will absolutely spin you once before setting you down on a couch or bench. Dramatic AND charming.

• Gives your feet a massage while pouting: “Your poor toes. Betrayed by fashion.”

⸻

Jason Todd

“Why the hell are you still walking?”

• Gets mildly annoyed — not at you, but at the fact that you didn’t tell him sooner.

• Scoops you up with zero effort. Doesn’t even ask. Just up you go.

• Carries you like you’re made of gold and grumbles, “Next time, wear the combat boots. Or I’m carrying you all night.”

• Secretly loves it though. Holds you close, presses his nose to your temple, and whispers: “Don’t ever push through pain. I’ve got you.”

• If anyone stares? He glares until they look away. That’s his girl.

⸻

Tim Drake

“Oh my god. Okay. Come here, you’re done walking.”

• Panics a little. Why didn’t he notice? Was he too distracted? Are you okay? Do you need to sit?

• Offers his back or arms, whichever you prefer. He’s surprisingly strong — years of patrols will do that.

• Probably gives you a piggyback ride and is super gentle the whole time.

• Keeps asking, “Are you okay? Am I bouncing you too much? Want me to stop?”

• After you’re safe, pulls out his phone to research heel inserts and comfy brands. This will not happen again.

⸻

Damian Wayne

“Tt. You women and your impractical footwear.”

• Pretends to be annoyed but is instantly kneeling with a hand on your calf to inspect your ankle like a surgeon.

• Scoops you up bridal style in one fluid move. “You should have told me the moment it started. You are not to walk.”

• Walks you to the car or the manor like a knight escorting a queen. Zero shame, zero hesitation.

• Glares at the heels as if they personally betrayed him.

• “Next time, I’m burning them. I’ll commission something custom from Italy instead.”

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

hiii, first i absolutely loveee your fics<3.

and i was wondering if you could do ANGST jason x fem!vigilante. where the reader fight the red hood(not as a sparring, like a violent fight) and at mid fighting he reveal that he's jason aka reader best friend since his robin era.

ty!!

“And i swore i saw your face before…”

Jason Todd x vigilante!Reader

Requests open💛

The rain fell hard, soaking through your suit and dripping off the edge of your mask. The night was cold, but Gotham never truly froze. The heat of its crime, its corruption, and its endless war kept the city smoldering.You were perched on a rooftop, scanning the alley below where intel claimed a major gun shipment would be exchanged. Another wave of weapons for the Red Hood’s empire.

You clenched your fists.

Red Hood.

You’d been hunting him for months now. He wasn’t just another criminal — he was methodical, brutal, and unlike the rest. His kills were intentional. Clean. No fear, no mercy. You didn’t care what the rumors said about him being some kind of anti-hero. You’d seen the bodies.Tonight was going to end it.You dropped into the alley as the shipment began. Six men. Two crates. And himA crimson helmet, black leather jacket, twin pistols at his sides.

Red Hood.

You didn’t wait for a signal.You struck first.He barely turned before you slammed into him, knocking him back into the crates. The thugs scrambled, some pulling guns, but he raised a hand.

“Leave. Now,” he barked, his voice modulated but forceful.They obeyed.He turned back to you, cracking his neck as he rolled his shoulders.

“No warning shot?” he said, tone mocking. “You must really hate me.”

You launched forward, striking his jaw with a spin-kick. He staggered, but recovered fast, drawing a knife.

“I told you once,” you hissed, “stay out of my city.”

“Your city?” he scoffed, blade flashing as he slashed at your side. You dodged, barely. “Pretty bold for someone who hides behind a mask.”

“So do you.”

You pulled your baton, extending it with a sharp click. The next exchange was a flurry of fists, blades, and metal. You moved like shadows. Silent, fluid, deadly. Every hit was personal. Every dodge felt like fate interfering.

You hated him.

You hated how he killed. How he smiled under that helmet. How he walked around like he owned the place. How familiar his fighting style felt.

Too familiar.

You’d trained with Nightwing. Sparred with Batgirl. Been part of the network long before the Bat disappeared.

But this…

Red Hood was reading your moves before you made them.

“How do you know me?”you hissed, breathlessly, backing away with a bloody lip.

He hesitated.Just a second.

Then lunged again.

This time, you weren’t fast enough.

He tackled you, slamming your back against the alley wall. The impact stole your breath, his forearm pinning your throat.You gritted your teeth, struggling, trying to raise your weapon.

Then his voice changed.

Modulator off.

And your world cracked open.

“Because you used to wait for me on the rooftop every night,” he said quietly. “Back when I was still Robin. Back when we were partners.”

Your eyes widened.

Your body went still.

That voice.

No.

“Y-you’re lying,” you breathed, trembling under him.He pulled off the helmet.And the past came back with a vengeance.Storm-dark hair, streaked with rain. Familiar jawline. That scar on his cheek from your first mission together — a rooftop fall that should’ve been funny, if you hadn’t cried for an hour after.

Jason.

Jason fucking Todd.You shoved him off you, stumbling backward, shaking.“No,” you whispered. “You died. You died in Ethiopia. The Joker — Bruce said —”

“I did die,” he said, tossing the helmet to the ground. “Six feet under. Buried. Forgotten.”

“No,” you repeated, louder now, your voice cracking. “Don’t do this. Don’t use his face.”

“I am him!” he roared, stepping closer. “I was Jason. I am Jason! And you— You were supposed to be my best friend. My family.”

You flinched.

Because you remembered.You remembered late-night stakeouts, cheap takeout on the Wayne Tower rooftop. His laughter. His scars. His warmth.You remembered crying yourself to sleep when Bruce told you he was gone. You remembered screaming at the cave walls, begging for it to be a mistake. For Bruce to do something.You remembered bringing flowers to a grave that no longer had a soul.

And now…

“You should’ve told me,” you whispered, pain rising in your throat like bile. “I would’ve— I could’ve helped you.”

“You wouldn’t have understood,” he said quietly. “You still don’t. Bruce let him live. After everything the Joker did. He let that monster walk.”

“So this is revenge?” you snapped. “Killing dealers in alleys? Blowing up gangs? You think Jason would’ve wanted that?”

“I am Jason!”

“You were Jason.”

The silence after that sentence could’ve swallowed Gotham whole.

You saw it in his eyes — the way your words hit like bullets.

He didn’t flinch.

But his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe I should’ve stayed dead.”

Your heart shattered.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? You clearly wish I had.”

“I missed you,” you cried. “Every day! I lit that signal for months, hoping you’d show. Hoping Bruce was wrong. That you’d come back.”

His fists clenched.

“You think I didn’t want to? You think I didn’t look for you first? But I saw you. With him. Wearing the crest. His soldier.”

“I wasn’t his soldier,” you said. “I was surviving.”

“So was I,” he said. “And this is where survival got us.”

You stared at each other across that blood-stained alley.Thunder cracked overhead. The rain kept falling.

“You became everything we swore to fight,” you said finally. “You’re not the Jason I knew.”

“Then maybe I don’t want to be.”And just like that, he was gone.Smoke bomb. Vanishing trick. Gone like a ghost.You collapsed to your knees, shaking, soaked in rain and regret.

The boy you loved.The partner you lost.Back from the dead.

But not back at all.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

😏

New fic…..

CAN SOMEONE PLS MAKE A FIC WITH BRUCE WAYNE INSPIRED BY THE SECRETARY????!?!?!?!?! YES THAT ONE MOVIE FROM 2002 😩😩😩 I FEEL LIKE THAT TROPE WOULD BE SO GOOD. I HOPE I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THIS.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

requestor: they probably ignored my fanfic request :(

writer: on their bed, rereading their work again and again, while forgetting that they’re writing for someone else.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

HI! This is my first time making a request, but I found you and I LOVE your writing! I was wondering if you could do like Jason Todd and a very girly reader? You don't have to if you don't wanna!

“I wannabe a bimbo doll!”

Jason todd x Girly reader.

2 posts in one day?? Who dis.

Jason Todd x Very Girly!Reader Headcanons

⸻

Opposites Attract…

• Jason did not expect to fall for someone who wears bows in her hair and owns 30 shades of pink lipstick.

• You walked into his life like a glitter bomb, and he pretended to be annoyed — but was immediately obsessed.

• He teases you constantly. “You know, there are other colors besides pink.”

You: “There are, but why would I want them?”

• He secretly knows the difference between blush pink, baby pink, rose pink, and Barbie pink. Won’t admit it.

⸻

The Bad Boy + The Barbie

• You’re always in something cute—dresses, skirts, matching sets, heels.

• Meanwhile, he’s in black jeans, boots, and leather.

• You once made him carry your pastel purse and snapped a pic. He grumbled, but made it his lockscreen.

• He calls you “Princess,” “Dollface,” “Sweetheart,” and “Sugar.”

• You call him “Jaybaby” to annoy him. (It works, but he secretly loves it.)

⸻

LIVING TOGETHER

• Your bathroom is covered in skin care products, fluffy towels, perfume bottles… and his combat knife.

• He lowkey loves your scented lotions. He pretends to gag, but you catch him using your strawberry body wash.

• You gave him a pink silk scrunchie and he actually uses it to tie his hair back when he’s cleaning guns.

• “This is tactical,” he says, totally deadpan.

⸻

Protective Jason

• God help anyone who calls you “high maintenance” or underestimates you.

• Jason will snap necks and repaint his bike pink if that’s what you wanted. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

• If you cry, he goes full feral. “Who made you cry? Give me names.”

• He’ll wrap you in his jacket, press kisses to your forehead, and mutter how you don’t deserve any of this nonsense.

⸻

He Spoils You (Even If He Pretends Not To)

• Buys you everything you point at. “Jay, I don’t need it.” “Didn’t ask.”

• You decorated his safehouse with string lights, throw pillows, and candles. He never changed it back.

• He pretends to hate shopping with you, but he’s holding your bags like a trophy husband.

⸻

In Public vs In Private

• Public: He’s leaning against a wall, arms crossed, brooding. You’re twirling your hair and sipping a pink drink.

• Private: He’s got his head in your lap, letting you paint his nails while you talk about your day.

• He melts when you run your fingers through his hair and talk to him in that soft, sweet voice.

• “You’re my big scary baby boy,” you coo.

“You make me sound like a pit bull in a tutu,” he groans.

“Exactly.”

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

I absolutely love your fics!

My I request one where like the reader flinches in front of the bat boys

“Looks like a cat did a number on you..”

BATBOYS X READER:when reader flinches during an argument headcannons

Just got cracked💛 finally doing all my asks.This has been sitting in my drafts for ages.

Bruce Wayne

• Bruce raises his voice—not yelling, but stern and intense as always. You flinch when he moves his hand to run it through his hair.

• He freezes immediately.

• His expression softens into horror. “Did you think I was going to—?”

• The Bat persona vanishes. He takes a step back to give you space, speaking gently: “I would never hurt you.”

• The guilt hits him like a brick wall. His mind flashes to his parents and the oath he took. He failed in making you feel safe.

• Later, he brings it up again, quietly: “Has someone hurt you like that before?”

• Protective mode is on. He’ll offer therapy, boundaries, whatever you need.

• From then on, he keeps a careful distance during arguments, speaking more calmly.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick’s usually the peacemaker, but this time he’s frustrated. His hands are animated, voice rising.

• When you flinch and look away, he stops instantly. It’s like you slapped him.

• “Hey, hey—no, no, no. Oh my god, sweetheart… I wasn’t—”

• He crouches down to your eye level if you’re sitting, hands open, not touching unless you say it’s okay.

• The sadness in his eyes is heartbreaking. “I would never raise a hand to you. Not ever.”

• Wraps you in the softest hug—if you let him—and rocks you gently.

• He asks what you need from him to feel safe going forward. Over-communicator from that point on.

• The next day, he leaves little love notes, flowers, your favorite snack—he wants you to know you’re safe.

⸻

Jason Todd

• Jason’s temper flares fast. He may slam a drawer or curse under his breath.

• When you flinch���maybe instinctively shielding your head—it cuts deeper than a bullet ever could.

• His face goes blank. Voice drops to a whisper. “Did I scare you?”

• He backs up instantly, hands trembling slightly. “I’d never hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

• If you’re comfortable, he sits near you and just lets you talk, or sit in silence, whatever you need.

• You later find out he goes to punch a wall hard afterward—at himself.

• He starts managing his temper more strictly. You never see him lash out again.

• Will offer to find whoever made you afraid like that. His protective instincts go nuclear.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim’s argument style is more logical, but he’s exhausted and on edge—snaps louder than he meant to.

• You flinch when his voice spikes, and he just breaks.

• “No, no—please don’t do that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

• Kneels beside you and touches your hand gently—only if you don’t pull away.

• He’s wrecked by guilt, pulling away emotionally for a few days, thinking he doesn’t deserve you.

• You have to reassure him too, ironically.

• Starts checking in more during disagreements: “Are you okay? Is this too much?”

• Becomes hyper-aware of his tone and volume. Starts therapy again or continues it more intentionally.

⸻

Damian Wayne

• Damian gets sharp with his words—condescending when upset. He raises a hand in frustration (not toward you), and you flinch.

• He goes completely still. “Did you just—?”

• Shock flashes through his expression. He immediately lowers his gaze. “I apologize. I would never strike you.”

• Very formal in how he handles it at first—trying not to let emotion override his apology.

• You see him visibly restrain himself during future arguments. If he feels he’s about to snap, he leaves the room entirely.

• Trains harder. Tries to “earn back” your trust silently.

• Eventually sits down with you, awkwardly, and says: “Whoever made you fear touch—I hope they suffer. But I won’t be them.”

• He lets you teach him how to argue safely, with emotional awareness. It’s a slow, sincere journey.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

just had a silly little idea in mind um you can write it about any of the batboys whoever you think suits the scenario most ☺️☺️

i LOVE the idea of playfighting and like maybe they’ll let you win just to pin you down and be like “i’m still strong remember” soooo yea ☺️😁🥰 🩷🩷🩷

BATBOYS X READER PLAY FIGHTING HEADCANNONS.

sorry this took so long💔 it has been sitting in mu drafts for days.

“Fight so dirty but love so sweet.”

Bruce Wayne

• Play-fighting with Bruce is rare, but when it happens, it’s more like sparring—controlled, technical, slow-paced for your sake.

• He lets you pin him, smirking slightly like he’s indulging a child, and pretends to grunt dramatically when you “take him down.”

• You tease him about being outmatched, and that’s when he casually flips you onto the mat with one smooth, effortless move, landing you beneath him.

• He leans in close, voice low and rumbly:

“You sure you want to start something you can’t finish?”

• It’s absolutely a power move—but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that says he’s enjoying your reactions just as much as the match.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick is so playful, laughing the whole time and making exaggerated kung-fu noises.

• He 100% lets you get the upper hand, flailing dramatically as you “overpower” him.

• When you’re straddling his chest, gloating, he suddenly grabs your waist and flips you underneath him in a single acrobatic roll.

• He’s grinning down at you, hair a mess, arms bracketing your head.

“Okay, okay—you win. Until you don’t.”

• You’re breathless. He knows it. And he likes it.

⸻

Jason Todd

• With Jason, it’s rougher, more intense—but never unsafe. He eggs you on with that smug smirk of his.

• He fakes being winded when you sock him in the ribs (lightly), groaning like you actually hurt him.

“Oh no, I’m going down!”

• The second you act cocky? He grabs your wrist, twists you around, and slams you gently into the couch or mat, pinning you.

• Smirking, he hovers close and says:

“You forgot one thing, babe—I’m built different.”

• You’re blushing. He’s loving every second of it.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim’s analytical about it—he pretends he’s not taking it seriously, but he’s calculating every move.

• He lets you win, arms flailing like, “Ah! How could you defeat me?”—total drama queen moment.

• Just when you’re celebrating, he uses your momentum to flip you onto the floor, landing next to you like it was all part of his plan.

• He props his head on his hand, totally smug.

“You forgot I literally strategize for a living.”

• You roll your eyes, but he’s already thinking of ways to “spar” again—just to be close.

⸻

Damian Wayne

• Damian absolutely pretends to hate the idea of play-fighting, calling it “pointless theatrics”, but he participates anyway.

• He lets you pin him but is visibly gritting his teeth to keep from flipping you immediately.

• After a few seconds of your smug grin, he swiftly grabs your thigh, shifts his weight, and flips you under him with precise technique.

• He glares down at you (but his cheeks are a little red):

“You were wide open. You should know better.”

• You know he just wanted an excuse to show off—and maybe be close to you for a second longer.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“Helluva ride.”

Damian wayne xDemonoverlord!Reader

A hell tie is a human living on earth who is bonded to a high ranking demon(An overlord, a noble etc…)Hell ties are used by Demons to cross between earth and hell.Lesser demons do not need hell ties due their weak power.Humans often ask for something in return like wealth,Health or anything they desire.To use a hell tie,there are many ways to do so..through the release of sexual energy,manually drawing a pentagram or making the hell tie recite a spell!!

This will be a multi-part series,Please PLEASEE leave chapter ideas and if you’re confused say so.

“Helluva ride,chapter 1:Gate”

Damian Wayne wasn’t a fan of surprises.

Especially not the kind that came with sulfur in the air, a shimmer of red light across his penthouse walls, and the sound of stilettos clicking uninvited across his marble floors.

“Miss me?” The voice was velvet and brimstone, laced with danger and desire.

Damian sighed, not even bothering to look up from the batarang he was sharpening. “I installed three layers of magical wards, you know.”

You think a few sigils and a snarky Latin inscription is going to keep me out?” she purred, rounding the corner into his living room like she owned the place.

“Clearly not,” he muttered. “What is it this time? Another war in the Ninth Circle? Or did you just get bored tormenting your underlings?”

She smiled, a little too sharp, a little too knowing. She looked completely out of place in his minimalist apartment — all leather, infernal energy, and curves that didn’t obey mortal logic. She plucked a grape from his untouched fruit bowl and bit into it with casual, deliberate sensuality.

“I need to get back home,” she said with mock innocence, licking juice from her fingers. “You’re the door, remember?”Damian’s eyes finally flicked up to meet hers — cool, calculating, and a little irritated. “There are other methods.””Sure,” she said, sauntering closer, her smirk deepening. “But none so… reliable. Besides, we have an understanding. I don’t burn Gotham to the ground, and you let me use you as my personal hell-portal when the mood strikes.”

“That’s not the deal,” Damian snapped, voice low. “You use me because, unfortunately, I am the deal.”

“A deliciously inconvenient one,” she said, crouching beside him now, running a claw-tipped finger along his jaw. “I don’t like waiting in lines. You’re the express lane.”He stood, knocking her hand away, jaw clenched. “We are not lovers.”

“Of course not,” she whispered, eyes gleaming. “We’re… coworkers. You just happen to be the only organism that opens the gates of Hell.”

Damian grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her closer — not rough, but firm. Dangerous.

“You don’t control me.”

“No,” she agreed, smile wicked. “But I do need you. And you, darling, no matter how much you deny it… enjoy being needed.”

A long pause.

Then he exhaled. “Make it fast.”

“Oh, baby,” she said, pulling him toward the bedroom with an otherworldly grin. “It always is.”

Damian’s bedroom was like the man himself — cold, spartan, and ruthlessly clean. But she didn’t need warmth. She needed him.

He shut the door behind them with a firm click. No words. No fanfare. Just that tight jaw, that unblinking stare, and the low burn of resentment in his eyes that only made her grin harder.

“You really hate this, don’t you?” she cooed, shrugging off her jacket — black leather melting away into wisps of shadow as it hit the floor. Underneath, she wore little more than sin and confidence. “Yet here you are. Always opening up for me.”

He grabbed her by the waist, spinning her against the wall in a blur of motion. His mouth was on hers — not soft, not kind. It was the kind of kiss that came with teeth, frustration, and the weight of an agreement neither of them could break.

“You think this is power,” Damian growled against her lips, fingers digging into her hips. “But you forget who’s letting you through.”

She laughed, low and throaty, pressing her body against his. “You keep telling yourself that, darling. But your cock’s the one with the key.”

His hands slipped under her thighs, lifting her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him, grinding against the hardness already straining through his sweats. She could feel it — the slow, reluctant arousal blooming under all that icy control. It thrilled her.

Because no matter how much he resisted — how much he tried to stay cold and above it — the gate would always respond.

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “You’re getting hard already. Poor boy. So tired of being used.”

He dropped her onto the bed.

“I said fast,” he muttered, stripping his shirt in one clean motion. His body was honed — muscle, scars, and divine geometry. She licked her lips as he pulled down his sweats. No hesitation now. No teasing.

Just function.

She opened her legs for him, already wet — not from need, but anticipation. The moment he came, the gate would split, and she’d be free to return to her realm. But damn if she didn’t enjoy the ride.

Damian climbed between her thighs and pushed in without a word — deep and unforgiving.

She gasped, nails raking down his back. “Mmm, someone’s in a mood.”

He fucked her hard — rhythmic, efficient, grinding deep with every thrust. But no matter how mechanical he tried to make it, there was always that moment when his breath hitched. When his brow furrowed. When his control began to slip.

She felt the heat start to build at the base of her spine — a shimmer of hellfire licking at the edge of the room. Her realm knew. It could feel the seal weakening.

“Come for me,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, biting his shoulder. “You know you want to. Just once, Damian — give it up.”

He groaned, pace faltering. She clenched around him, dragging him closer to the edge, faster, hotter—

He buried his face in her neck, breath ragged. “You’re a demon.”

She laughed, breathless. “And you’re a Helltie. Now open—”

He growled, hips jerking as he spilled inside her. A deep pulse of magic surged through his body — the moment his orgasm hit, a burst of heat ripped through the air. The windows trembled. Shadows bled along the floor.

A crack split open behind her — red, molten light spilling through, the scent of sulfur and ancient fire flooding the room.

The Gate.

She smiled, breathless, sweat-slick and satisfied. “Mmm. There it is.”

Damian collapsed beside her, chest heaving, already regretting everything.

She sat up, brushing his hair from his face, smug and glowing with post-coital power. “Thanks for the ride, sweetheart. I’ll be back when Hell gets boring again.”

She stood, completely unbothered, walking naked toward the portal. Just before she stepped through, she turned back over her shoulder, eyes gleaming.

“Oh — and next time? Try to last.”Then she was gone — swallowed by fire and shadow, leaving Damian alone in his bed, aching and furious, and once again… used.

PLEASE LEAVE IDEAS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“Salt water kisses.”

Damian Wayne x Reader.

Sorry…for disappearing again.My stupid husband cut off his hair because it was “Too hot”and now im in mourning 💔💔He had dark curly hair and now they are gone😭😭😭IT WAS MY HAIR!!!!I LOVED THAT HAIR.

Anyways enjoy💛💛

The sun shimmered like scattered gold over the rolling waves. The beach wasn’t crowded—just a lazy weekday afternoon—and Damian had grudgingly agreed to come, though he’d pretended like he wasn’t the least bit excited. You knew better.

You were already barefoot, digging your toes into the warm sand as Damian slowly peeled off his shoes beside you, scowling slightly at the sensation.

“You don’t like the sand, do you?” you teased, tilting your head with a smile.

Damian glanced at you from under dark lashes. “Tt. It’s coarse. It gets everywhere.”

You laughed, clearly recognizing the quote. “Okay, Anakin Skywalker.”

He smirked—just a little. “I’m much more competent with a blade.”

“I bet.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “But let’s see how you do with beach games before we declare victory.”

⸻

An hour later, you were both breathless, chasing each other in a splash war through the shallows. Damian had eventually caved into the fun, shirt damp and clinging to his chest, hair dripping, smile rare but real.You slowed down, panting lightly, and sat in the wet sand where the waves lapped in lazy rhythm.Damian plopped down beside you, silent for a while, just watching the water with furrowed brows like he was reading the ocean’s secrets.

You looked at him. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Dangerous,” you said softly, teasing.

He turned to face you. “Not always.”

Something about his tone made your heart stutter.

The wind played with your hair. Damian’s green eyes traced your face, stopping at your lips before darting back up.

He hesitated—just a second—before saying, “I’m glad you brought me here.”Your lips parted in surprise, a soft smile growing. “I’m glad you came.”Damian looked like he was battling himself. “May I…”Your breath caught. “Yes.”

His hand brushed the side of your cheek—hesitant, surprisingly gentle for someone trained to kill. And then he leaned in and kissed you.It was awkward at first. A little unsure. But warm—sun-drenched, sea-salted, and real. Like something blooming slowly in the heat of summer.

When you pulled apart, you both laughed—nervous and happy all at once.He didn’t stop smiling the rest of the day. And neither did you.

“You’ve got salt on your lips,” he murmured.

“So do you.”

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

When you’re looking for an X Reader fic at 2 am for some me time but instead see some dumb @ss complaining about fanfiction that has dark/taboo themes clogging the tags and the top posts.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

omg could u talk about how you and your partner made the decision to get married at 16?

It was dumb,I dont recommend 😭

So….. we were dating since we were 12 and like were” inlove” with eachother and my husband kept telling his parents that he was going to marry me.Then at 16 his parents agreed as a joke and saying it was a phase and would just anull(because we were technically under age or atleast i was, i was 15 turning 16)our marriage when we got sick of each other.News flash…we never did. 😭😭😭 and now we have been married for 4 ish years and have a kid together.I love him with all my heart.

Anyways💛

ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS

I will post fics soon💔

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

BATBOYS X READER HEAD CANNONS AND SCENARIOS

Yall know the drill by now.

Sorry for being gone so long.That fanfic writer curse is real,tell me why i got pregnant **AGAIN** even though my son is barely 4 months old. Then i was stressing about having another baby and then i have a fucking miscarriage 😭😭😭😭 like cant make this shit up.Anyways💛 requests are open

Watched the superman movie.wow…

10000/10

anyways yall have a clear favourite i put Jason every time knowing hes gonna win by a landslide.Show my man Dick and Bruce some love💛

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

AO3 is DOWN

WHAT DO I DO WITH MYSELF

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“Jealousy is one hell of a drug.”

Jason todd x reader

Warnings:slightly suggestive

This is shit😭im sorry.i can’t sleep but im so tired…writing this at 1:12am.

⸻

The night had started innocently enough.It had been your idea — drag Jason out of the apartment and into something that didn’t involve guns, alleyways, or the inside of his helmet. You practically had to bribe him with the promise of decent music and his favorite bourbon.

And surprisingly, it worked.

You’d barely stepped inside the club when the bass hit, the lights danced across your skin, and Jason’s warm hand found the small of your back. The place was pulsing, packed, alive — nothing like the brooding silence Jason normally wrapped himself in. But you were thriving.

You wore that outfit — the outfit — the one that made his jaw tighten when he first saw you tonight. Short, clingy in all the right places, the kind that made him want to be the only one looking at you.

Too bad the rest of the bar hadn’t gotten the memo.You’d only been at the bar five minutes when it started. Eyes trailing you like smoke. Drinks offered “on the house” from strangers who lingered too long. A guy in a designer shirt had even dared to lean a little too close when he asked if you were single.

Jason just watched. Quiet. Unmoving. That dangerous stillness in his body that meant a storm was brewing behind those glacial blue eyes.You caught his expression in the mirror behind the bar — clenched jaw, one hand wrapped too tightly around his glass, and his gaze locked like a sniper on every man who looked at you for more than half a second.

You leaned in, a teasing smirk pulling at your lips.

“Jason,” you purred, pretending not to notice the guy who just tried to wink at you. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” he muttered, eyes still fixed on the crowd behind you.”You sure?” You swirled your straw, watching him over the rim of your glass. “Because I’m starting to think you’re—”

“—Jealous?” he cut in, snapping his gaze to you. “No. Not jealous.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised a brow, trying not to laugh. “Because the guy who just gave me his number is still limping from the death stare you hit him with.”

Jason leaned closer until his mouth brushed your ear. “I could make him limp for real, if that helps.”

You laughed — loud, amused, tipsy. “God, you’re such a caveman sometimes.”

“Cavemen don’t wear leather and carry Glocks.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were flushed — from the alcohol or the possessiveness, you weren’t sure.

Still, you stood and dragged him out onto the dance floor before he could get any bright ideas involving fists and blood.It was crowded, hot, the kind of sweaty chaos Jason usually hated. But with you pressed up against him, your arms around his neck, he didn’t complain.

“Look at you,” you teased, lips close to his. “Mr. Broody letting loose.”He didn’t respond right away. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you felt the shift in the air. That sharp, barely contained tension — not just lust, but something deeper.

“I just don’t like sharing,” he said quietly, his voice rough in your ear.

You smiled, softening, and ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to.”Then — bold, in the middle of the crowded floor — he kissed you.

Hard. Hot. Unapologetic.

The kind of kiss that said mine.

You melted into him, barely noticing the way people parted around you or the music thumping louder. The kiss was a claim, yes, but it was also a warning.Jason Todd didn’t do halfway. Not with his love. Not with his fury.When he pulled back, his eyes were still dark with heat. “You wanna get out of here?”

You grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

⸻

Later That Night…

You barely made it through the door before his lips found yours again, this time with less restraint. Your back hit the wall, and his mouth trailed down your neck.

“You love it when I get jealous,” he growled, hands sliding under your top.

“Maybe,” you whispered, breathless. “But only because I know you’ll prove I belong to you.”

His eyes met yours, feral and full of fire.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a low laugh. “I’ll do a hell of a lot more than prove it.”

And he did.

All. Night. Long.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCHHH YOU ARE MY FAVORITE PERSON IN TGE WORLD 🩷🩷🩷

I love you guys so much😭😭😭😭PLEASE REQUEST STUFF/ASK questions( within reason ofc) 💛💛

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

Hi!

I wanted to request a batboys x reader where they grapple/swing around with reader to get them out of a situation or whatever, but due to all the quick moving around, as soon as they land reader gets really sick and the boys try to comfort/help reader

Ps. Love your writing!

“Swinging from the chandelier…”

Batboys x reader:when they make reader feel sick by swinging/grappling too fast

I can’t believe you guys actually like my writing 😭i love you guys sm💛💛

⸻

Bruce Wayne

Grapples you out of an exploding situation with one arm, full Bat-dad mode activated.

Lands with expert control — you stumble off and immediately gag behind a trash can.

Bruce goes still. His hand is on your back in two seconds flat.

“Easy. Breathe through it. I moved too fast.”

Peels back his cowl just a little so you can see his concerned expression.

Offers water from his belt, crouches beside you so you don’t feel small.

He feels terrible and just keeps repeating:

“That was my fault. We’ll go slower next time.”

⸻

Dick Grayson

He’s so confident while swinging. Chatting the whole time like it’s a theme park ride.

Doesn’t notice your face going pale mid-air until you land and you immediately bend over and groan.

“Oh my god—was it the triple somersault?! Babe? Baaabe?”

He’s instantly at your side, fanning you with his gloved hand, pulling your hair back, muttering:

“I’m never doing that again. Okay, maybe just a double next time.”Feels horribly guilty but is also trying not to laugh out of sheer panic.

Brings you ginger chews, presses a forehead kiss, and promises:

“You say the word and I’ll walk you over rooftops next time.”

⸻

Jason Todd

Grapples you out of a crumbling warehouse like a goddamn hero.

You’re both panting as he lands on the fire escape — until you promptly double over and retch into a bucket someone left behind.

“Sh*t, are you—oh crap, that’s not good.”Holds you steady with one arm, other hand rubbing your back.Is lowkey freaking out but masks it with:

“Guess the Red Hood thrill ride’s off the table, huh?”Takes you straight home (slowly this time), throws a blanket over your shoulders, gives you Gatorade, and mutters:

“You throw up one time and suddenly I’m a criminal again.”

⸻

Tim Drake

Pulls you into his grapple line mid-chase, not realizing how fast he’s going until you land and you stumble like a ragdoll.

“Oh no. Oh no-no-no. Are you gonna throw up? Please don’t throw up. That’d be—oh, yep. Okay. Yep.He’s panicking so hard but trying to be calm for your sake.

Googles “how to help with motion sickness” while holding your hair.Once you’re okay, wraps his jacket around you and insists on calling an Uber instead of grappling back.

“Screw the rooftops. We’re taking a regular car. With seatbelts. And ginger ale.”

Doesn’t stop checking on you for the next 12 hours.

⸻

Damian Wayne

Snatches you mid-danger, full-on ninja swing mode. Lands flawlessly. You do not.

You lean against a wall, wheezing, then abruptly throw up into a planter box.

Damian stares, silently horrified. Then mutters:

“I told you to brace your core.”But despite the sharp tone, he instantly takes off his cape and drapes it over you for warmth.

Has a tiny bottle of electrolyte tabs in his belt — offers them without a word.Very gently helps you sit.

“Next time, you stay behind me. Or I carry you upright like a civilized person.”

Secretly shaken by it, though. You find hot tea and a note on your bedside later:

“You were very brave. I’ll improve my speed and angle calculations next time. —D”