#Adult!Damian Wayne

[n0cturn4]

Character: Adult!Damian Wayne x Reader Summary: “I offer you my heart,” he murmured, his voice now an intimate whisper. “And the freedom to do with it as you will.” Word Count: 1185 Music: Habibi

It was a night of scorching heat in the infinite desert, where the sky, dotted with stars, reflected the glow of a fate written long before the birth of kingdoms. In the palace of Al-Nadir, grand and carved in marble and gold, Prince Damian Wayne, now a grown man, wandered silently through its vast corridors. His firm steps echoed like a whisper of responsibility and power. Damian, the prince who carried the weight of two legacies within him, had always been an enigma, a man made of shadows and steel. But that night, something beyond the throne unsettled him. He felt an emptiness, an absence that neither gold nor glory could fill.

The festival of Al-Nadir pulsed like a living heart in the city below, where the people celebrated, and the arts flourished under the desert heat. On that special night, dancers from all corners came to showcase their talents, but there was one in particular, a presence that stood out among all, like a rare flower in the sands of destiny.

And then he saw her.

You, a dancer whose movements seemed to defy the very stars. Your feet glided across the stage like a gentle breeze over the dunes, and your eyes, burning and mysterious, revealed stories that words could never contain. Your body, adorned with veils and jewels that shimmered in the torchlight, moved with a grace that did not belong to this world. Every gesture, every curve of your body was silent poetry, a promise of freedom and power.

Damian, a man accustomed to hiding his emotions, felt his heart waver. The serenity he always carried like armor shattered before your dance. He, a prince of steel, was captivated by a flame he did not understand but could not ignore.

When the music ceased and the applause echoed, Damian knew he had to meet you. He ordered to be taken to you, not with the arrogance of a prince, but with the curiosity of a man before a mystery he longed to unravel. In the palace’s private gardens, beneath the shadows of exotic trees, he waited. The sound of water running through the fountains was the only noise besides his own heartbeat.

You arrived, your eyes raised, firm and fearless, as enigmatic as your dance. There was no fear in your posture, only calm curiosity, as if you knew this encounter was inevitable.

“You called for me, Your Highness?” your voice was a thread of silk, as soft as the night breeze.

Damian tilted his head, his green eyes analyzing you as if he could read your soul through every subtle movement.

“There is something in your dance,” he said, his voice deep and controlled, “something that goes beyond art. There’s a story behind every one of your movements. A battle... a freedom.”

Your lips curved into a slight smile, something enigmatic, like a moon partially veiled by clouds. You observed him with the same care, surprised by his insight.

“Every gesture I make carries the weight of my own story,” you replied. “Dancing is the only freedom I truly have.”

Damian stepped closer, his words like veiled promises in the warm night air. “What if I could offer you more than just that fleeting freedom? What if I could give you something greater?”

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What exactly would you offer me, Your Highness?”

He did not hesitate, his words were precise, like the arrows he so skillfully wielded. “A choice. Stay by my side. Not as a prisoner of my will, but as an equal. Someone who challenges my spirit and shares the burden of power with me. I see in you what few would—strength that deserves to be honored, not tamed.”

The night seemed suspended between you, the wind carrying only the echoes of something forming, something neither of you had anticipated.

“And if I accept this offer,” you asked, your tone low but filled with meaning, “what do I get in return, besides power and your wealth?”

Damian took another step closer, until his eyes, intense as the desert itself, penetrated yours.

“I offer you my heart,” he murmured, his voice now an intimate whisper. “And the freedom to do with it as you will.”

You stepped forward, reducing the distance that still remained between you. Your eyes, deep and mysterious, met his with firmness. It was like looking into a distorted mirror—you, the free dancer, and he, the chained prince. Two worlds so different, yet drawn to each other as if the universe had conspired for this moment.

“And what would you do, Prince,” you began, your voice flowing like a soft melody, “if I took your heart and turned it into my own dance? If I made it part of who I am?”

Damian smiled, a rare smile, almost imperceptible, carrying both melancholy and hope. There was something vulnerable in his stance, a man who had always been a fortress now lowering his defenses before a stranger, yet still, a soul he seemed to have known forever.

“Then,” he replied, with a soft gleam in his eyes, “I would become part of your freedom. Because in the end, there is no greater power than being in the hands of someone you trust.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to stop. The sounds of the festival in the distance, the murmuring fountains, even the soft breeze among the leaves, all silenced in the intensity of that moment. The moon poured its silver light over the garden, as if the heavens were watching and approving of what was unfolding.

You stepped even closer, until you were so near that you could feel the heat emanating from his body, his presence strong and solid. Your fingers, delicate and skilled like in your dance, gently touched Damian's chest, right over where his heart beat. The touch was light, almost like a breeze, but the connection that formed was deep, instantaneous.

“Your freedom and mine are like two stars dancing in the sky, Prince,” you said softly. “I accept what you offer, but know that I will not be a silent companion. My soul is not meant to be contained.”

Damian breathed deeply, as if your words had the power to ignite something deep within him. His eyes never left yours for a moment.

“That is exactly why I chose you,” he murmured, his voice dense, full of promise. “I don’t want someone who bows, but someone who walks beside me. I want someone who challenges me, who makes me question the world as it is.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, as if deciphering the final secret hidden in his soul.

“Then, Prince Damian,” you said, a light smile on your lips, “we will dance together.”

And so, under the stars that silently watched, the bond between you was formed. The Prince of Al-Nadir, with his heart in the hands of a dancer, and you, with the promise of a love that could not be contained by borders or duties. The night, a silent witness, became the stage for the first act of a story that would defy fate and time.

And in that dance of souls and hearts entwined, Damian Wayne's world began to change, one step at a time.

[totallynotashieldagent]

Kinktober 2024 - Manhandling

Pairing: Adult!Damian Wayne/Reader

Damian had had enough. He’d been watching you all night. Mingling with the guests, letting them- allowing them to touch your arm, offer you drinks, guide you through the room by the small of your back and through it all, you just smiled and laughed and were so fucking polite. Not once did you tell any of the men to not touch you or that you had a boyfriend. Even when he met your gaze, you just raised a brow at him and then continued on. It was as if you were doing it on purpose. You wanted him riled up.

But so far, he was able to manage it. It was fine- really- no, the glass isn’t cracking under his grip. He was managing it. He was- He was until- until he saw you talking to Conner fucking Kent. Damian could never stand that clone-boy. 

His grey eyes met Damian’s green and it was as if he was testing him. Come get your girl, he almost goaded him. And Damian was so easy to rile up for all his emotional repression, he was just so easy to tease. 

“Kent-” He said tightly, his arm wrapping around your waist, his palm gripping your hip a little too tightly. Possessiveness was obvious. 

Conner just smiled and winked at you, “I’ll see you later, gorgeous,” He said and left you alone with your boyfriend. 

“What was that about?” Damian all but hissed. 

“Nothing-” You said too quickly, making him scowl.

Your name dripped from his mouth like venom, laced with warning. “What was that about?” He repeated, his teeth gritting together, his hand now holding your bicep in a vice grip. 

“N-Nothing, Dami-” You said again, “Wh- Calm d-” His hand tightened even more. “Damian-” 

“You’ve done nothing but parade yourself around this party.” He whispered at your neck. “You’ve let men and women touch you. Touch what’s mine.” 

You dry swallowed, “Damian-” Trying to build a case but it came out like a breathless plea.

He wasn’t wrong. You had been doing it. But it wasn’t because you were parading yourself. It was because it was fun to rile him up. He always fucked harder when he was riled up. But tonight, talking to Conner, maybe you’d overdone it-

You tried to say something again but his glare quieted you instantly. 

“We’re leaving.” His tone left no room for argument. The ride back to his penthouse was painfully silent. 

You could see his tan hands clenching so tight at the wheel that the knuckles were white. Every time you did try to say something, anything, it was met with a glare that shut you up.

“Out.” He said when he parked the car. 

Usually, he would’ve circled around and opened the door for you. But today, oh, today you knew you were fucked. It scared and thrilled you. 

His hand circled your bicep painfully again as he led you to the elevators and punched the button for the top floor. 

“You- You really test my self-control at times.” He spoke through gritted teeth. 

You wanted to laugh, honestly. That it wasn’t your fault he was snapping because you laughed with Conner. But his grip was like a vice that would bruise tomorrow and fucking hell, the idea of being marked was shooting straight to your pussy. 

The moment you both entered the penthouse, you were pressed against the door. Your tits squished to an almost painful degree, your neck craning against the hardwood. 

“Now- what were you talking to that clone about?” His voice was low and controlled but his body was flushed against yours and you could feel his belt buckle digging into your back. 

“Really- It wasn’t-” You tried and his hand twisted your wrists together, your shoulders squishing together, making you gasp. “Dami- It was just-”

“You like it, don’t you?” He growled, his other hand pulling up the gown. “You like riling me up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re doing it on purpose.” His fingers reached the edge of your panties. Teasing the dampness slowly, sending shockwaves through your spine. “Look at that…” He whispered, his finger hooking the underwear to the side to gain access. 

You could feel his signet ring as he bottomed out his index finger into your tight hole. Clenching involuntarily around his finger, pushing back for more. He grunted and pulled out. 

“You think you’ll get more after behaving like that?” Damian chuckled darkly against your neck. “Not tonight, princess. You’ve been a brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He let you go, making you almost falter and slump down. “Sit on the couch. And if you touch yourself-” He warned, pulling off his jacket, draping it onto a chair and folding his sleeves to the elbows. 

You swallowed and sat on the couch, your hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

Damian took off his rings and gestured for you to stand. Sitting down behind you, his hands guided you back into his lap. His hardness was obvious but you knew you couldn’t say a word right now. 

“Now, you know before we start what you like, I need to punish you-” He said sweetly, kissing your shoulder, one hand held you in place and the other’s knuckles glided over your arm. You nodded a yes and he gently guided you over his lap. 

Your face squished against the cushions and your ass laid across his muscular lap. 

“Count for me, darling.” He said softly, pulling your gown up to reveal the damp underwear that was still twisted to the side uncomfortably. 

One arm was draped over your lower back and the hand was tucking your underwear so your ass was fully exposed and your folds were peaking out. 

“Ready?” He asked, his hand caressing your behind. Before you could even say yes, a hard slap cracked down your ass, making you yelp, clenching your thighs together. He kneaded and massaged the flesh gently, a sharp contrast to how hard he’d just slapped you. 

“One-” You croaked out softly. Your hands grip the cushions tightly, and your breath is already getting ragged.

“Good-” He mused and then came another hard slap on the other ass cheek. You again, yelp and gasp. He’s not giving warnings before striking down. You whisper a moaning two. 

“Now…” His fingers gently caressed your folds a little. He pulled down the underwear just till the thighs and one finger started to tease at your entrance. “Drenched already, my love. You like being punished, don’t you?” 

You whispered a desperate yes as you waited for another spank but it didn’t come. Instead, his finger just traced the edge of your pussy’s hole. Making you clench on air but not giving in. Before you could try to understand why he wasn’t finger fucking you already, a light slap landed on your cunt. The moan that escaped you and the way your ankles twisted together even surprised you. 

“Well, well-” Damian fingers rubbed you carefully to remove the soreness. You mumbled three, not to rile him up any further. You’d just gotten yourself to calm down a little when the second slap came, the shock it sent through your clit made you clench harder, whining against the cushions.

“Damian- Please-” You rasped. Needing more but still at his mercy. 

“Please, what?” He goaded you, his index finger still circling at your hold but not going in. 

“I need- need more-” You whined, trying to push back, force his finger into you but he held you in place easily. 

“Misbehaving again?” He laughed softly. “Seems like it’s going to be a very long night, my sweet.” The fourth slap that hit your clit made you dizzy. You were on edge and nowhere near it either.

"Three?" You gasped.

“You lost count, my heart. We’ll have to start again now.” He cooed at you sweetly.

Kinktober 2024.

[koganexx]

REQUESTS

༊i’ll write most scenarios you ask!

༊dont worry about which show you’re asking for, ill list all the fandoms i’m in

༊i’ll only do fem!reader or gn!reader because i don’t know how to portray mlm

༊i won’t write weird crap though: incest, unnecessary age gaps, sexual assault, rape, abuse etc

༊no smut, only suggestive situations

༊if you’re more specific with your request it’ll help

༊don’t be afraid to ask me to write smth😚 vague requests are fine too

༊characters I won’t write for!:coran, mahito, panda,(i might add more)

dividers all made by @cafekitsune

[prlssprfctn]

Dick is a type of person who gets very (even more than usual) dramatic when he falls sick. His attention span reduces to zero, he is in the middle of writing his will, and he is constantly over-bored, bothering everyone with random calls or by spawning behind their backs out of nowhere.

(It doesn't help that Bruce is paranoid, and every time his kids get sick, he is like in full-time helicopter mom mode as if they are actually about to die in a second, but that's beside the point.)

When Tim gets sick, it is a catastrophe. He is so stubborn about everything that he ignores half of the house. He doesn't even tell others he is sick until he coughs out his lungs or something, and when they finally realize it, he is battling for the right to get everyone off him, because, hey. Nothing happened. He is fine.

If Damian gets sick... It is the cutest thing ever. He becomes so clingy. He comes to put his head on someone's lap or curls on their chests. He huffs a lot too, and mutters something, but he loves to sleep and be hugged, when he is sick, and that's the most charming shit ever.

When Jason gets sick?

Everyone expects him to be the most troublesome person in the world. Because, well, it is Jason. He kicks everyone away, when he is poisoned, he rarely asks to patch him up, unless things go to rough, and he can be flippant as hell when he feels too vulnerable.

But then, Jason actually gets sick, and everyone is an awe, because he is so quiet? His voice becomes smaller, he does whatever Alfred asks him to do, he takes all medicine without throwing a tantrum or asking to sweeten it with something else. He accepts anything, really.

Because when he was a child, long before Bruce found him, he had no place or time to be sick. His mother needed him. He needed to take care of things, he heeded to continue acting like he was fine, like he didn't need help or medicine — he walked around with a fever, and spend restless nights coughing out his lungs.

But then Bruce came. And he was finally allowed to rest. Explained that he needs to be taken care of, and someone in this manor, always will do that for him.

So, when Jason stumbles in the Batcave in the random night, sniffling and trying to suppress cough, Bruce is not surprised in the slightest. If anything, he welcomes him as fast as he can, before Jason can overthink what he did (out of pure instincts, really) and leave again.

Jason came, because Bruce taught him that.

As simple as that.

[frownyalfred]

thinking about a Damian who was raised his entire life hearing how much he looks like his Father, how he's the blood son, how he's better than any other child Bruce Wayne has taken in, starting to buy into it like a kid does, only to hit puberty and turn out looking like 80% Talia.

[fantastic-nonsense]

"Damian should be a veterinarian when he grows up" this and "Damian should be a doctor" that….I think he should take advantage of his wealth and be an art major

[firerose18991]

Literally anyone meeting bruce and his family for the first time: So how did you get so many kids by 30?

Dick: HE WAS A TEENAGE DELINQUENT

Jason: *shouting over him* HE LEFT MY MOTHER AT THE ALTAR

*tim is sitting, just happy to be included*

Bruce: BE-quiet.  They're ADOPTED!

Jason: *not a beat missed* Because he’s never known the touch of a woman.

[rxbin-iii]

Damian al Ghul

older!Damian concept where he leans more into his mom’s aesthetics and also has a sick ass sword

i still don’t really know how to draw muscles 🫡

[uncharted-constellations]

It’s been a minute, (both post wise and design wise) so decided to update the fam + a couple additions compared to last time

[luca-is-a-pengu]

The Robin and the swift

Damian was studying at the university of gotham but passed out with a swift on top of him

[robintherobiner]

Love the idea of Gotham knowing there's different Robins and giving them titles (Flippy Robin, Happy Robin, WTF DID HE GET REBORN OR SOMETHING WAIT NEVERIND ITS ANOTHER DUDE LOL Robin, Girl Robin)

The batfam make bets on what Damian will be called. Angry Robin? Stabby Robin? SWORD Robin?

They're all wrong. They wake up after Damians first night of patrolling and theres a new hashtag trending on Twitter.

#CuteRobin

[totallynotashieldagent]

Hey! I saw the valentines event and thought I’d request #2 for Damian if possible. I adore ur writing btw ❤️

💕valentine's day drabble special💕

This was supposed to be just an undercover mission. That's it. It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out thing. Pretend to be dignitaries at this masquerade ball, gather intel and then leave. Don't make contact with anyone, stick together, and simply observe.

However, all that had gone to fucking shit the moment one of Bialya's Senators had put his hand on your hip, pulling you a little too close for comfort and tried to get a dance with you.

The next thing you knew was that Damian was throwing a punch and both of you were making a run for it.

And now, you were hiding in a supply closet, bathed in absolute darkness because Damian had to be a chivalrous gentleman.

"What was I supposed to do?" He tutted. Even in the absolute dark, his green eyes seemed to almost glow. "Mother taught me that if a man touches your woman, that hand should be cut off. You're lucky I only broke his nose."

"That's not the point!" You hissed, "You almost blew our cover and extraction is still 20 minutes away."

"You will not tell me to not defend your honour!" He whispered angrily.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You knew this was a bad idea. Coming here- Doing this mission with your boyfriend. You knew you should've come with Bart or -

Your thoughts were interrupted as the noise outside the door suddenly grew loud. You pulled away from the door and Damian pushed you behind himself. His body taut with his battle-ready stance if anyone came through. Your hands were clenched at his waist, pulling out a weapon from his person. Whilst he was a master assassin, trained in every way possible of fighting. You still needed a blade or a gun.

The noise soon faded and his body slowly relaxed.

After a few beats of silence, you spoke. "I'm not saying don't defend me. But where's the boy who tore down people with words?" You ran your fingers through his hair, fixing the pieces into place. "You didn't have to punch him."

"Tt- I know." He sighed, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. "I thought I grew out of that instinct but when I saw his hand on you, all I saw was red, habibit." He pressed a gentle chaste kiss below your ear. That was as much of an apology as you were ever going to get.

Damian's arms wrapped around your waist and he took a deep breath. One hand was the small of your back, the other trying to find the edge of your dress.

"Dami... What are you doing?" You asked softly with no intention of stopping him. You looked at your watch. Extraction was still 15 minutes out.

"Nothing, azizum." His tone was still so nonchalant. As if his rough hand wasn't slowly working it's way up your thigh.

"We really shouldn't be doing this..." You whispered, letting him hoist you up. Your legs wrapping at his waist as it was the most natural thing to do.

"Mhmm- We really shouldn't." He agreed but his mouth was on your neck. "How long until extraction?" He licked a stripe across your throat.

You gasped, your nails digging into his suit jacket. Fuck. What was the question? You tried hard to focus and looked at the watch again.

"12 minutes." You swallowed, meeting his gaze.

"We can make it work." He smiled, "If you don't make noise."

[science-lings]

I feel like ppl focus on Bruce training the robins to kick ass from a young age when that’s definitely not all that was. He had to teach them field medicine and how to pick locks and sneak around silently and how to notice things, sure he taught them how to hit things with sticks of multiple sizes, but he also taught them how to grapple around and land from a fall.

They probably had intimidation lessons and interrogation lessons and sessions where they just meditated for hours straight. They’re taught how to calm down civilians and to train their voices to sound different in costume and so many things that would make them the most terrifying children to live with.

Bruce is actively training them to be good at bothering him because they like trying out their new espionage skills at Galas and trying to sneak around him while he’s asleep to prank him.

When we think of training to be Robin it’s easy to think of sparring and gymnastics equipment when it’s fun to remember the other parts of it. Some days Bruce would probably just give the kids a Hunt a Killer box and a time limit.

[demon-at-peace]

DP + DC Danny and Bruce have a grudge

So short Twink Danny, you gotta love him, but I want more tall Danny. Give me Eliie at GA and Danny this scary dude with scars coming in to pick her up. Ellie who got in a scuffle and the other kid wants her in trouble.

And the other kid is Damian duh. And it's a face of, Danny Nightingale nee Fenton who would sooner die than let Ellie get hurt, and Bruce Wayne, who would do anything for his sons. It gets resolved but they take snips at each other at galas.

Danny talks about him rudely, Bruce returns the favor, he makes snips about his behavior, how he's far too happy. Bruce of course digs deep and hits hard. Talking about Vlad, how he's living of another money, how his parents kicked him out. So Danny talks to the dead, mocking him by quoting word dead people said to him.

Both are convinced the other knows their identity and is after them, eventually they figure it out and the beef continues. In the JL Phantom, the eldritch entity who is calm is constantly sniping at the Bat. And the bat responds, they bicker constantly arguing.

The JL thinks they are exes, how else would Phantom know that much about the bat? Why else would the emotionless bat hate Phantom. So they bicker, they take insults, and everyone is like dude they are totally exes. They try to steal each other's side kicks too, as a like punch in the face. The robins follow Danny around and Danny is all smug. Until Bruce bribes Ellie and it's a war.

The JL thinks they are trying to win back the children from the divorce, the lore. the chaos.

idk I liked it, also I wrote this vibing to the Life is Fun song, and now wondering what my taste in music is? also I tried the story in the tags thing, it's officially my new favorite thing

bye :)

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [2]

Danyal returns to league, he was sent to the Fentons for a mission and after gathering all that they know about lazarus/ecto he figured he was in an unique position. Either he revealed himself and was accepted and after that would have to do what he could to keep the league off his back. Or he'd be rejected and he could simply finish his mission and return to the league. Sadly for Danny. The second option ended up happening, and with crushing disappointment and new hardened resolve he made his way back to Nanda Parbat.

At first he's surprisingly at peace with the situation, he misses his friends and Jazz but this is sadly how it's meant to be.

Damian isn't there, he has been sent to train under their biological father. Or at least what mother says. Perhaps now that he's successfully finished his deep undercover mission he'll be allowed to know the truth and go as well.

Ra's doesn't want that, for body snatching reasons. But he doesn't know that Danny is half dead. Nobody at the league does.

It's basically the only secret Danny keeps. After having to stay quiet about it and the explosive aftermath with the Fentons it just doesn't occur to him to speak up about it anymore. After all, here he has everything to lose.

And he feels vindicated when he finds Respawn. Tied up, hanging, looking so much like him and Dami, but wounded, with damning white hair and when he opens his eyes and notices Danny it's only the green green green he sees.

In Danny's mind the league must know, they are bidding their time or... or Danny was always meant to end up like he did or this is yet another damn clone someone made of him.

None of Danny's thoughts about this are good, and it figures, he's aware of what this place is. Jazz did a good job deprogramming him. So perhaps the thought that things would be better here was laughable. But somehow, for some reason he thought blood relation meant something.

So far all parental figures are bad, the Fentons. Vlad, now Ra's and Talia. So what does that mean for his twin, what does this mean for Damian?

Well, at the very least finding out who his biological father is and where he lives isn't hard with ghost powers. Neither is freeing Respawn.

And after that all that's left to do is making sure Damian is safe.

And by the ancients, may the gods help Batman if it turns out he's not.

[hood-ex]

So anyway, since Bruce abandoned his family, are they gonna let Damian go live with Dick in the Tower orrr is DC going to keep being dumb and not take advantage of such a golden opportunity...