#Older!damian Wayne x reader

[msjaeger]

Whipped Like A Motherfu- (Older!Damian Wayne x Reader)

Description: The boys never thought it was possible for their youngest brother to have a soft spot for a woman. Or a soft spot in general. So how will they react when they witness their brother being lovey-dovey first-hand?

This was requested by @beatriceshadowmarvel2 so enjoy!!!

The only warning I got for this is that it has explicit language.

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Damian could be hot-headed. And very irritable. Also not to mention annoying at times. Overall he was a complete dick to almost everyone around him. Keyword: Almost. There was one person he would never and could never show any harsh emotions towards. The love of his life, the one he'd die for, the one he'd kill for. You.

The two of you had met during an attempted robbery. But not in the way one would probably assume. It was Damian who was getting robbed, not you. For obvious reasons, Damian could handle himself in these situations. But also for obvious reasons, Damian is the one who usually initiates the attack. It's been a while since he's been jumped out of nowhere. So he was a bit rusty on his reflexes.

You, on the other, had grown up on the rough side of Gotham so you had gotten a headstart on having your reflexes in tip-top shape. At the time of the incident, you had a fresh can of mace. You were walking past when you noticed the man get struck on the back of the head and were taken aback by surprise. On instinct, you reached into your purse and whipped out the black can. Then the rest was history.

That was approximately two years, six months, five weeks, and twenty-two days ago. It was that long ago since Damian realized that he could never love and long someone as much as he did you. But somehow, after all this time, you're finally meeting the infamous Wayne. His family.

And he was not excited.

"Of course, I'm not going to be excited, sweetheart. You didn't have to live with them for eight years of your life and for another two, having to meet up with them for every fucking holiday to exist." Damian scowled as you flipped his eggs onto a plate. He had just entered the kitchen and sat down at the bar of your shared apartment.

You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other lying his plate in front of him.

"C'mon Dami. They can't be that bad if you didn't run away." You offered, running your hands through your boyfriend's messy hair. He picked up his black coffee and muttered:

"Trust me. I tried."

You sighed and kissed his cheek, his freshly shaved jaw still having shaving cream in random areas of his face. "Did your father ever teach you how to shave?" You chuckled, wiping a smidge of cream off his face. You walked out of the kitchen and stood next to him, silently urging him to eat.

He grumbled something Arabic before grabbing your hips and pulling you down to his level. He started rubbing his cheek against yours, which usually you would be fine with. If shaving cream still wasn't on Damian's face.

"Damian! I was finally ready to go and now my makeup is ruined! I think you got some on my sweater, too!" You whined as he let out a laugh. He pulled away and stared into your eyes, his hands on both sides of your face. His green eyes kept observing each little feature you had on your face. The confused posture on your lips. The twitch of your nose as words came out of your mouth but he could only focus on your face.

"You don't need makeup, my love. You don't need anything to change how you look. You're already the most beautiful thing to bless this Earth." Damian said mindlessly, staring into your eyes.

You chuckled, confused about what made Damian come to those words or thoughts. "I'm not too sure what you mean by that, Dami. But I love you as well.". You stood up to your full height and tried removing the shaving cream from your sweater. "But not as much as I love looking presentable for your family so they don't think I'm a South Side junkie." You announced while walking back to your bedroom.

After your little situation was fixed, the two of you left the penthouse and started your thirty-minute journey to Wayne Manor. The drive gave you time to publicise your concerns.

"Dami, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or what if they think I'm using you for money? It doesn't help that I'm from the poorest side of Gotham and possibly the entire fucking country. Should I swear in front of them? I know they're all guys and probably swear worse than me but they-" Your rambling was cut off when your boyfriend kissed you right on the lips.

"Damian! You're driving, from the last time I checked. That's how people crash and die from a cell stroke or something." You reprimanded. Damian only chuckled and removed his hand from the wheel of his favorite Corvette.

"One: This is the car that was partnered with Wayne Enterprises to create the first self-driving sports car. It was in Hands-Off mode, sweetheart. Two: You can't die from a cell stroke because there is no such thing. Three: They'll love you I promise. Because if they don't, I can guarantee they will die a slow and pai-".

"That's enough, love. I'll stick to them not liking me." You compromised, knowing it was the best option as you were aware of Damian's threats becoming a reality.

"That's the thing, Y/n. There shouldn't be a reason for them not to like you. You're beautiful, both book and street smart, and the kindest person to ever walk this Earth." Damian was about to continue his rant about how much you were worth when he noticed he was already parked outside the place he too wasn't sure how to feel about.

A part of him wanted to walk in and reminisce on the memories of his youth. The other part of him wanted to drive his car into the side of the house (without you in it, of course), put it in self-destruct mode, and blow the house into pieces.

"I'm gonna fucking kill myself." Damian groaned as he put the car in park. You glanced at him as his face contorted into one of horror as he stared at the now wide-open door.

Four grown men walked out of the door, a prideful aura radiating off them. Damian's eye twitched as he swung the car door open and flicked them off before they even got the chance to utter a word to him. He made his way to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

He reached his hand out to you and helped you out of the car. You readjusted your skirt and reassess your outfit choice.

'Does this make me look like a hooker?' You wondered to yourself as the group approached your boyfriend and yourself.

"Wow. Little demon managed to find a girl that will put up with his attitude. And he... opened the door for her?" The one who you knew was Dick Grayson and your boyfriend's oldest brother. Only because he was on the best terms with Damian that he actually talked about him. But not in the brotherly way people would consider.

"Fucking Grayson. He's always showing off."

"Dick? Just assume the name comes with the job"

"I will not talk to him. Just because he's my brother and helped me out when I was younger doesn't mean I forgot he threw up all over me when he got shitfaced the last time I saw him."

"Guys, don't tell me the spawn of Satan himself actually learned manners and pulled a good-looking chick. I think I'm gonna cry." The one next to Dick wiped fake tears from his eyes. Damian's scowl deepened.

"Here's an idea, Jason. Go fuck yourself." Damian retorted. The new speaker, Jason, rolled his eyes and chuckled. He was the first to approach you formally and stuck his hand out.

"Hey, I'm Jason, Damian's older, hotter, and smarter brother so if he fucks up, you know where to find me," Jason smirked while you shook his hand.

"I'm Y/n. I would gladly take your offer if I didn't know Damian would never fuck up." You replied back, silently wincing at your use of vulgar language.

But instead of sneering at you or commenting your foul language was 'unladylike', Jason howled in laughter and shrugged.

"Offer still stands. Your accent. You grow up on South Side?" He asked, crossing his arms after you dropped his hand. You nervously glanced at Damian, who nodded in affirmation.

"Yep. Born and raised. How'd you figure it out? I'm usually pretty good at hiding it. That and I don't go around at night, begging for a cigarette and three cents in change."

"I'm from there too. At least before Buck-for-Fuck here adopted me. Grew up on Crack row or whatever it's called by the rich." Jason shifted his gaze to his brother. "You got a good one, Demon. You already know how we turn out." He gestured to himself with up and down hand motions.

"It's a good thing she got out before you, then."

"Fuck you, man."

Jason whimpered in fake pain before being shoved out of the way by Dick and the other brother. Dick introduced himself to you in a very formal way, starting it off by kissing your hands.

Damian did not take it well. He pushed Dick's cheek away from your knuckles. "At least ask her first. Don't you have any self-dignity?" Dick frowned but backed off nonetheless. "My bad, little man. I-", the first thing you've picked up from this family is they don't seem to let each other finish as you watched Dick get shoved by his father, who was clearly embarrassed.

You didn't need an introduction from Bruce motherfucking Wayne. 1. He owns the biggest technology company in the world. 2: It's Bruce Wayne. He's probably the one person on the planet who doesn't need to introduce himself. And he knew that too.

But he introduced himself anyways.

"Hello, Y/n. I'm Damian's father, Bruce. I've heard a lot of things about you." Bruce held his hand out as you shook it respectfully. You glanced at Damian, who scoffed at his father.

"All good things I hope, Mr Wayne." Bruce grimaced when you spoke. "Please call me Bruce, dear. Mr Wayne makes me feel as if I was alive when the Civil War was still being considered." Jason snickered before saying, "You probably were. You'd think with the amount of money you earn, you could afford getting rid of those crow's feet." Damian rolled his eyes at his family's antics before pointing at the last brother that wasn't introduced.

"The emo one who hasn't said a word is Tim. He's a bit odd and stays in his room jacking off or playing with Father's computers." Damian wrapped an arm around you as he explained his brother's habits. Tim's face became stoic as Damian shrugged.

"I hope all your stocks drop completely," Tim grumbled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Damian's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to send a comeback towards his brother before Bruce chuckled nervously.

"Why don't we all go inside and catch up? Also so we don't embarrass ourselves even more in front of Y/n." The boys seemed to all agree and Damian and yourself followed the rest of the family inside.

After settling down inside the manor's living room, Bruce poured you a cup of tea and sat down in between Jason and Dick, Tim sat on the floor, and Damian and yourself sat on the couch.

"So Y/n. Tell us more about yourself. You didn't seem to have any time to do to certain people in the family. You said you were from South Side, right?" Jason clapped his hands and hollered. Bruce gave him a nasty side-eye while Dick slapped his chest.

"I think the more important question is... how the fuck someone like Damian ended up with a sweet little angel like yourself," Tim spoke while drinking something that obviously wasn't tea. Your boyfriend's frown deepened.

"I wouldn't call her a little angel, Timmy. We met because she maced a guy trying to rob me." Jason jumped out of his seat and started a handshake that was created for South Siders to identify each other with. Surprisingly, you still remember the whole thing.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about! You make everyone who still lives in Shitville proud!" Damian pushed Jason back into his seat before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Please refrain from tainting her with your filthy hands." Damian had little spurts where he would switch from casually talking to someone to as if he was talking to the president. Of course, Jason had a knack for making fun of it.

"My dearest apologies, my lord. May I offer my condolences for my idiotic acts?" Jason bowed from his seat.

"Okay, we can try this again. Please don't fucking touch her with your nasty ass hands that we all know you 'forget' to wash. The next time any one of you touches her without her permission, I'll be sure the Lazarus pit can't bring you back to life." Damian snapped. It suddenly became quiet despite the conversation being between two people.

Although it was only two sentences, it was enough to leave the family of undercover heroes speechless. Not about the fact that the youngest member snapped at them. No, they've gotten used to that.

It's the fact he snapped at them over a girl, let alone anyone else in general.

Jason's jaw was slacked and his eyes were wide in surprise. Tim had lost all his secret stash of alcohol as he not only spit out the liquor in his mouth but his water bottle dropped onto the shiny floors. Dick's face was stoic as he processed the fact that his baby brother could actually care about someone as much as he cared about himself. Maybe more.

Bruce's expression was possibly the hardest not to laugh at. His eyes were wide, an eyebrow was arched, and overall just looked weirded out.

Damian groaned in irritation and his fingers twitched in annoyance. He tapped your thigh a few times and stood up with your hand in his. "We're gonna head to my room and sleep off the bullshit from today. Don't bother us." Damian dragged you along like a lost puppy up one of the many staircases throughout the mansion and disappeared behind the thick walls of the hall. Not before hearing:

"Use protection, please! We don't need any more demon spawns running around when we have Damian and Jason!" "Fuck you, Bruce!"

Bonus:

You laid on Damian's bare chest, his pecs acting like a pillow for your head. Your legs intertwined with his and your hands were in the pockets of his black sweatpants.

You were fast asleep, the warmth from his upper body acting as a sedative for comfort. But Damian wasn't asleep. He couldn't fall asleep. Not while admiring the beautiful soul on his chest.

He ran his calloused fingers through your hair, dismissing the tangles in your hair by prying his fingers apart at the ends of each strand. He knew you'd be pissed about the sudden frizziness when you woke up but he didn't care. Not when he'd at least hear your voice.

"Words cannot describe how much I love you, Y/n. You saved me more than the day we met with your can of mace. You changed me and I will always be grateful for your love and affection towards someone like me." He whispered into your ear. He kept whispering poetic words into your sleeping ears. He suddenly stopped when he heard a creak from the corner of the room.

His vision sharpened to see into the darkness of his old room and immediately reached over to his nightstand and switched his lamp on. It illuminated the room just enough to see his family in the corner of his room, recording the scene in front of them.

Damian wrapped his arms around your waist and gave the nastiest glare possible towards the boys. Tim was about to say something, maybe lighten up the approaching argument but Damian brought a finger up to his pursed lips.

"If you wake her up, I will play tic-tac-toe on your throats with my katana." He blankly threatened.

Dick realized there wasn't any bluffing behind his brother's threat, as he had doubted threats from Damian before and that's how he ended up with thumbtacks in his ass and tried to escape the impending doom.

Jason, on the other hand, wanted to see the world burn and tripped his older brother, causing him to trip and eat shit. A thud echoed throughout the room, causing you to stir in your sleep.

"Dami? What was that?" A dagger was whipped out of the nightstand and held by Damian in a way with the intent to throw it at an unsuspecting victim. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep, okay beautiful?" You drifted back to sleep as if under a spell, your hands now on his defined chest.

There was a brief moment of silence that gave Damian time to admire the love of his life. That was until Jason decided to open his mouth.

"Dude, you're whipped like a motherfu-"

A knife flew across the room and landed right next to Jason's head.

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This is the first thing I've written in almost a year so lmk if it's ass or gas. BUT KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS I LOVE HEARING OTHER PEOPLE'S IDEAS!!!

[superhero--imagines]

Wear what you want I can fight

A/N: Surprisingly this one won so here you go, just did the boys I thought fit the best. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoy 💖

Dick Grayson

You can feel his gaze on you as you secure your accessories.

“Do I look bad?” You ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

He fidgets.

“N-no, of course not.” It’s true, you could never look bad, not to him — not even when you woke up with drool dripping from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin.

“I thought you were going to wear that blue outfit though? The one with all the sparkles.” You flush at the mention. The blue outfit had been your first choice, but—

“It’s kind of…revealing, don’t you think?”

The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Baby, you know you can wear whatever you want right? I can fight”

Jason Todd

Jason gives out a lie wolf whistle when you walk into the room, an eyebrow quirked up as his eyes shamelessly roam over your body.

“Wow, you’re trying to turn everyone on, huh?”

You roll your eyes. You’re wearing a turtleneck sweater and a pair of modest black pants—not anything eye catching, let alone revealing.

You smile when he walks closer, his arms wrapped around your midsection and his lips pressed against your temple.

“Don’t worry babe, dress as slutty as you want—I can fight.”

Duke Thomas

He covers his mouth the second you step out. Shoulders trembling as he purses his lips.

“Hot right?”

He can’t hold it in anymore. The laughter tumbles out of his mouth is barks and howls, he laughs so hard tears fall from the corners of his eyes.

“Where’d you even get a Pokémon onesie?”

“Is it to promiscuous? I mean, I know you can fight babe, but I’m not trying to get in the middle y’know?”

Another wave of laughter.

Damian Wayne

“Damian,” you hiss his name, calling his attention down to you. Your lavender ensemble sways around you. A moment prior you’d been happy with it—that was until you noticed everyone else attending the gala was wearing white and black. “Why didn’t you tell me this ball had a dress code?!”

Damian doesn’t even flinch, plucking two champagne glasses from a waiter nearby.

“You look good in it.” Like that’s all there is to the matter, you look good in this outfit and you like it so what does it matter what the dress code is? “Drink.” He presses the champagne flute into your hand, and since it can��t get any worse, you down it all in one gulp, grabbing the second one to sip from.

“Trust me beloved,” his eyes narrow at the participants that were eyeing you with snickers earlier who immediately flinch away when his gaze flits to them. “No one will dare criticize you—not if they know what’s good for them.”

A/N: As always please leave a like, reblog, or comment if you enjoyed and stay tuned for my next poll to pick what blurb I do!

[luwritesomething]

Damian Wayne x Reader: slow mornings.

Words: 596

Reader pronouns: not stated (was coded as black reader since this was written with my oc in mind)

Warnings: None, just fluff. Like, a lot. Also, too short.

Edited?: Not yet, sorry.

Summary: Damian has get out of bed and workout, but you're too bewitching.

Author's note: I wrote this with my DC oc, Blake, on mind. She's black, so I guess you could find this little blurb somewhat black-coded. It accepts every type of reader, really, no skinny or hair or skin or eyes mentions, so there you go!! If you've liked it, know my requests are open w the anon option. I also mainly listened to Farewell, Neverland by TXT while writing this lol. OF COURSE, this is older!damian we're talking about.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! The list for the characters I write is HERE.

Damian always woke up before you did. His routine was rather strict, but simple if he followed it right, and he had enough discipline to follow through with it everyday. A quick breakfast, a heavy workout, a proper breakfast, a heavier and more physical workout, showering and meditation, then the rest of his day. Considering the amount of responsibilities he had as Wayne Enterprises’ VP, he had to wake up really early to fulfill his routine during work days and still arrive on time to the building. Weekends were easier, because they were slower and lacked obnoxious work meetings, and he almost never missed his workouts. Almost.

When he woke that morning, early enough for the light coming through the window to be still weak, his first impulse was to slide out of the bed — pushing the white sheets off his body. But he had barely moved in order to do that, when he noticed your arm around his torso. It made him smile slightly, lovingly, watching your hair all messy around your face, semi buried in the soft, silk pillow.

Damian had had to go to bed before you had even been able to get out of your company’s meeting. In one of the intense but short lived breaks in between your meeting, you had called him and asked not to wait for you, and out of pure exhaustion Damian had actually listened to you and gone to bed once midnight striked. So, this was the first time he was seeing you since early the morning before that.

At least you hadn’t been tired enough not to take your makeup off out of sleepiness, given now she was barefaced. Your skin shone there where the sun, shyly coming in from the barely pulled together curtains, caressed you; and Damian couldn’t help but follow with his eyes the path of happiness on it. His smile widened as his eyes moved slowly, thumb coming to caress your arm again and again and again and again. Damian knew he should have forced himself to lift from the bed more than five minutes ago, but how could he when you could bewitch him by just existing?

Damian’s fingers drew patterns everywhere he could reach, gently easing up as you awakened as you snuggled closer to him. You hid on the crook of his neck, groaning quietly when Damian tickled you slightly, but a smile blossoming on your face because God, it was hard to be mad with Damian when he was this soft. You looked even more precious now to him, as your eyes fluttered, fighting to keep them close.

“Good morning, beloved.” He whispered to your ear, ticklish enough to make you chuckle cheerfully and writhe involuntarily against his body.

You rolled to the side to face him better, but you didn’t open your eyes just yet. “I thought you had to workout today.”

“Something more important came up.”

With that, your eyes opened, glimmering sweetly — Damian’s breath almost caught on the back of your throat. He wanted to stay like this forever. “Oh, yeah?” You hummed, eyebrows up and slightly teasing. Damian just stared, knowing well you appreciated the way he would include you in his mornings from time to time, putting his discipline aside. “And what is that?”

Damian’s lip corner twisted slightly, prompting that charming grin of his. His hand came to your waist, squeezing with the right amount of strength to make you feel terribly loved and important, and then his grin twisted to a genuine smile. “Why don’t you stay and find out?”

[plethorawrites]

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

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Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

[m3ntally-unstable]

Why is it that everytime I search for a certain thing I GET THE OPPOSITE. I SEARCHED FOR ANGST NOT SMUT, I WANT ANGST. I AKSED FOR SMUT NOT FUCKING FLUFF AND SHIT 😡😡😡😡 please update your system tumblr I beg of you

[nosyrobin]

Imagine omegaverse au! Older damian Wayne

Tw:Yandere Damian tossed around like pepperoni

Imagine Damian making you wear his clothes. Just so the other alphas know you have a mate, because he’s tired of having to kill those alphas that dare touch his territory. Damian always sniff your neck, scenting you in lots of ways. He can’t have you not smelling like him around Gotham. Damian just marks you in places you consent to, he doesn’t want to make his beloved uncomfortable. His glare towards other alphas who dare challenge him have a death wish. It’s clear you belong to him, so why on earth are you attracting a lot of other alphas. Guess he’ll have to mark you again tonight.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Damian x reader but reader is a very awkward but kind person. they are awkward around people, hell this is their first relationship, and generally doesn’t receive good attention from others because of it. but he loves them despite it. i hope this makes sense

Graceless

Damian Wayne x Reader

wc: 2.2 K summary: Being in a Gala his father threw with your dear boyfriend. Also, sneaking out from it. warnings: literally so much fluff I threw up, no y/n used a/n: ThANKYOUSOMUCH FOR THE REQUEST OMG, literally such a cute idea, I hope I could write it as cute as you described it. Enjoy! (Divider)

»You're stiff. No need to be nervous, beloved.« Damian tells you quietly, hand on your back as he stays by your sidesince the beginning of this event. He had been trying to console you and let loose the entire time, having been nothing but patient with you. Sighing out, you look at him and attempt to relax your shoulders. You are not used to such Galas, being especially awkward now with so many people around. There is no reason why you said yes to this. Really, you've been dreading going here with him, but you also didn't want to mess up or make him upset by declining his request.

He looks to you as well, expression soft and understanding. You have no idea how you scored such a jackpot. But truth is, he thinks the same about you. Damian would be lying if he said he didn't find your slight awkwardness and shyness adorble. In fact, he cherishes it.

»We can go, get some fresh air, if you'd like.« You perk up at his suggestion, trying not to make it obvious that you would do anything to disappear for a moment.

»Sure.«

The crisp evening air winds past you, making your hair fly into various directions and you move your hands to unruffle your hair. This action only makes Damian's heart flutter even more, watching your every move while he stands beside you on the spacious balcony.

»What are you looking at?« He blinks out of his stare and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly.

»Just enjoying the view.« Now it's your turn to look away, being mostly flustered by his attempt to flirt with you. »Thanks.« You manage to mumble out, earning a soft chuckle from him. It makes you a little confused for a moment before you realise that it may have sounded slightly out of place. How else are you supposed to react to flirting? What was there even to say in general?

»Oh, you are so cute...« In the next moment, you are pulled into his arms, a hug if you will. There are rare moments for Damian to let loose and be affection, but with you it comes naturally. He can't help but always want to squeeze you tightly in his arms every time you are being more adorble than he thought you can be. You return the hug and melt into it shortly after, loving how dreamy the mix of his cologne smells like, wanting to drown in it.

Soon, the chatter from the Gala becomes louder for a moment, followed up with a click of a door before it becomes more quiet again. »Gremlin, B wants to see you. He doesn't want you sneaking out again.« You recognise the voice to be one of his brother's, glancing behind your shoulder to see Tim. You are getting better at their names.

Damian groans and reluctantly lets go from around you, leaving you alone on the balcony for now as he goes to his father to discuss something. Not that he cares, really.

As your alone, you settle on leaning your hands against the cold railing and looking out to the cityscape. It always amazes you at how big and shiny Gotham looks like from the Wayne Manor, the river that goes around the city makes it look even more stunning. The cool wind goes past you once again, this time not as aggressive as before. It helps you cool down from the social gathering, finally having some alone time, even when you would prefer it with Damian.

You focus on the calm stream of the river, not noticing more people pile onto the balcony. Soon enough, you feel someone tap your shoulder which makes you turn around. Dick? It is Dick, right? Damian didn't trick you?

»There you are! Enjoying the evening? I hope we didn't scare you off or anything.« He chuckles lightly, hoping to get to know his youngest brother's girlfriend more without him interrupting every other sentence. You only saw his brother's one time when they invited you to a dinner, and Damian didn't let anyone talk to you for more than fifteen seconds. Not that he was jealous, he was just really annoyed with how teasing and stupid they are, which only makes you more shy around them.

»No, not at all. It's nice.« You respond back in an attempt to come off as relaxed and totally not awkward around him, hating the fact that it's most likely not working. But Dick is polite enough not to mention it.

»I see. You know, Damian can get really grumpy at times.« He starts and leans against the railing beside you, a rather amused smile on his face.

»How do you keep up with that?«

You never expected this question and you have no idea how to respond to this at all. Or is he messing with you? He definitely is with how light he is talking about it.

»Um... well, he is not as grumpy all the time.« You smile back in response as best as possible, making the man beside you laugh a little. It's a mystery for the whole family on how he got a sweet girlfriend like you. You don't seem to talk too much around them, getting out of your shell only sometimes when they directly talk to you. And even then, you still seem more reserved.

»Hm, I have that different in mind. Maybe he is- « He can't finish his sentence as he gets punched behind his back, making him gasp for air and turn around confused.

»Who- «

»Father wasn't even looking for me, what are you doing here?« Damian steps away from Dick and goes to your side, placing his hand around your back like before.

His brother quickly recovers and purses his lips, trying to come up with a quick excuse.

»I was just talking to her! I wasn't even trying to interrogate her or something...« Damian rolls his eyes, wordlessly dragging you back inside the Gala to escape the antics of his brother.

As you're walking away, you glance behind your shoulder and give the other an apologetic smile, hoping you didn't upset his brother. He luckily doesn't seem as upset and just gives you a thumbs up in response, flashing you a shiny smile in return.

»I apologise, they can tend to be a pain in the ass. He didn't try to ask you something stupid, right?« He tilts his head at you lightly, still walking through the Gala and out the hallway to escape this place all together.

»No! No, just...« You answer back, trying to explain to him briefly what your small conversation was about, »uh... he talked about the weather. And stuff.«

He doesn't buy it at all and just gives you an unimpressed look, waiting for you to spill the truth. »Okay, he did ask me about your grumpiness. And how I keep up with you.« You sigh out, biting your inner cheek as you watch his reaction. He is rather amused and shakes his head, tugging you along outside with him.

»Don't mind him... he is stupid.« He mumbles back, reassuring you while wrapping his arm around your waist fully. You both exit the building and make your way to your usual hang out spot near the river, liking the way the moon reflects against the water. The sky is clear, giving you an even more pleasing view. You both walk to a nearby bench and sit down, getting a brief chill down your spine at the cool wood. Damian, ever the oberserver, shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over you shoulder before pulling you close again and relaxing with you.

The close proximity and comfort makes your cheeks flare up, being glad it's dark enough so he doesn't see it. Either way, your subtle reaction of sighing out made it clear you enjoy this.

The comfortable silence is something you both adore, being able to be relaxed and calm with just the other's presence. You don't need to say something to the other or do anything, happily being leaned against his side like that. You don't need to worry about being weird for fidgeting with your hands in your lap. There is nothing you need to worry about or be afraid with him, being the only person you trust with yourself. At first, it didn't seem like he liked you at all before you started dating. But it turns out that he was just trying to mask his feelings in front of you. He noticed you in his class every day and just couldn't help but feel drawn to you. It was scary, but soon learned how to approach you and quickly realised you were probably more cute than he thought you are. All that pining came to an end once you both started to date, but it surely didn't stop entirely.

You sometimes forget that you can be affectionate with him because in your mind, it's still hard to believe that you two are an actual couple. Like now, you finally realise it again and want to do something together with him. Not just sit around and stare at the lake.

»Can we walk around?« He looks at you, not really having expected this suggestion. But who is he to say no to you? He'd be a fool to deny you anything.

»You mean take a walk? Of course we can.«

With his jacket around your shoulders, you both walks side-by-side by the lake and don't talk much again. Neither fo you mind, once more. Damian takes a few steps away from you, making you stop and stand while watching him approach something a bit further away. You uncertain of what to do but decide on standing on your spot and wait for him to come back. He rips something out from the ground apparently, being lightly amused from the sight. Eventually, he returns to you with a small smile, basically skipping up to you again.

He hands you a smaller boquet of white, wild flowers, making you smile even more at how sweet his gesture is. There is no reason for him to pick up some flowers for you, but he still did.

You take the boquet from him happily, unsure of what to say but really grateful for the few flowers he gave you just now.

»You like them?« Without thinking too much, you nod quickly and hug him tightly.

»Yes... thanks. It's sweet.« Was that enough to express your gratitude? You really hope so, but you also feel a rush of affection wash over you as you both hug.

»Not as sweet as you.« He murmurs back and nuzzles his nose against your hair, making you feel even more flustered than before.

»Why do you always say something like this?« Damian smiles against your hair and squeezes your wasit softly in his arms, speaking into the top of your head.

»You don't like it? I can stop.« Of course, that makes you react even more. You quickly shake your head and lean off him to look into his eyes. The subtle shine of the moon makes your blush more apparent for him.

»No! I-I mean, just... you're making this more difficult.« You manage to mumble out before averting your gaze towards the water, huffing out defeated. His expression softens and he gently puts his hand over your cheek, carefully making you look back to him.

»Or maybe you are just need to learn how to deal with flirting.« He teases lightly, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone in a gentle manner.

This just made you blush more, pouting at him. He can't help but find this even more adorble, feeliing a little bad for teasing you. »Sorry... didn't mean to sound rude.«

You don't want him to feel bad on the other hand and shake your head, leading you to lean you head more into his hand. »No, I... probably need to learn how to deal with it. You're right.«

You both smile at this and silence falls above you, just studying each other's eyes in the moonlight, getting lost in the proximity of the warm hug.

Finally, his thumb brushes over you lower lip, hand still cupping your soft cheek. His eyes rake over your face, getting stuck on your lips and you feel your heart speed up at the realisation. Leaning in slowly, your free hand supports you on his chest, other arm still around his neck with the small boquet of flowers in it.

After hesitating just for a moment, you press your lips against his own and he could swear he feels a firework errupt in his chest and entire body. He kisses you back without a second thought, pulling you flush against him with his hand by your waist. You're unsure who breaks the kiss first, but you are left a flushed mess in his arms. And he finds it cute all over again. Your slight awkwardness never made him feel annoyed or anthing like that. He's not like most people, he is more patient and sweet with you. Damian doesn't hate that you need a little more time for affection, he doesn't feel worried over you uncertain moves. He is more than happy to guide you through it and show you how to love yourself and express your feelings more freely.

»You are... gripping me a bit too hard.« you break the silence first, a rather sheepish expression on your face as you wait for him to stop gripping your waist so much. He snaps out of his stare and replaces his hand onto your back.

»Sorry... got carried away.« He scoffs lightly, being the one being sheepish now.

a/n: I never felt myself cringe so hard before while writing, but I also tried to make it as believeable and cutesy as possible. Hope you enjoyed it though!

←MASTERLIST

[bomber-grl]

Feeling the Waves

~ Damian Wayne x Gn!Reader

~ 1.5k words

As much as you’d normally love to eat the rich, you really couldn’t decline Damian’s offer. Your boyfriend had invited you to go spend a week at his family’s private Island and you just couldn’t help taking up on the offer.(which you later learned was in possession of a secret base somewhere)

The private jet contained everyone in the Wayne family and finally landed on the island after a good 6 hours. From Tim, Jason, dick, and Barbara all the way to Cass, Stephanie, Duke and obviously bruce. Of course we can’t forget about Alfred and Tim’s boyfriend, Bernard.

As soon as you landed, attendants on the island began getting your bags and you were guided in. The heat alone was no joke and if anything you felt like melting as a result wouldn’t be an improbable outcome.

The estate alone was to die for, worth more money than anything you’d probably ever own. The building was huge and the exterior design was only what you could describe as similar to that of Italian architecture.

The inside wasn’t much different either. The front desk was right up front and so was the extravagant stairs that welcomed you all in. The stairs were enormous and split into two different directions.

Chandeliers, fountains,and a snack bar??? They were all calling your name but your ears were drawn elsewhere. There was a vast amount of staff right besides the stairs you were admiring not so long ago, they addressed “Mr. Wayne” in unison and welcomed you all in.

You were all quickly sorted and escorted to your individual rooms. They were extremely gorgeous and you quickly learned that the view from your balcony rivaled their beauty.

You were bursting with energy as you looked through your abnormally large bathroom, and you were delighted to see your stuff all moved in.

Not to mention how Damian had gotten your rooms next to each other

It was barely 2:00 P.M but with the heat stroke you almost suffered in all about 5 minutes paired with you looking around, you were stumped.

You plopped onto your king sized bed on your belly and began to truly relax. The AC was blaring in all the right ways and sleep was calling your name.

-

6:00 P.M

A rapid knocking at your door was what scared you awake. Your body felt sweaty despite it being freezing inside and you quickly wiped away the drool on your face in favor of grabbing your phone.

“6:00 P.M” you’d been asleep for the past 4 hours???? What the hell???

The person at the door’s patience seemed to quickly thin as it opened. The face of the person that barged in was familiar, and someone you knew as non other than your boyfriend.

“Hey we’re going to the beach, wanna go?” Damian was already dressed for the beach and had a bag and a sun hat on him, presumably belonging to either steph or Cass.

Still riddled with sleep you responded “uhh sure let me just get ready”. Damian nodded and left to let you do your thing.

After a good 10 minutes of you quickly rushing to get your things for the beach you made your way down the stairs. Just for Jason and Dick to be spraying each other with water guns.

-

“Hey” Damian approached you while you sat at a common area that was on the first floor near the entrance. “Hey,… why’re you wet?” You couldn’t help but ask since he was drenched in water. He sighed “no reason let’s just go now” and he began walking towards the back where you knew glass doors that led to pools were, and basically the beach was.

It was only then that you realized that he came from where the stairs were, where Dick and Jason were.

You giggled at the fact that he got essentially jumped by them and the assumption was only reinforced when his face and exposed shoulders flushed.

-

You finally made it to the beach and made your way to where everyone was. There was a big canopy spanning over the large group you knew as Damian’s family. There were a several chairs spanned under this canopy and had a comfortable set up with some outside couches and coolers with drinks.

Bruce, Alfred and Cass were under this canopy while Tim was building sandcastles with Bernard, Jason was swimming out in the ocean and Dick was just chilling. Others were either lounging or spraying each other with overly tampered with, water guns.

The rest of the day passed quicker than you realized as you were swimming with Damian one moment, making seashell jewelry, and eating pizza at another moment (while simultaneously avoiding the beer that was currently being jugged down by a good amount of others)

Either way, the sun soon set and the night air was more humid against your face than dry. Cass, Barbara and a few others already went in so you decided to do so too. The cold air of the inside was more than jarring as you tightly wrapped your towel around yourself and made your way upstairs to shower and change.

As you passed the dining room you also passed the buffet that was filled with enough people you assumed it was the after party. Once arriving to your room you quickly made work of your soggy, wet and sand filled clothes and took a well deserved warm shower.

You probably would’ve went back down to the second level to get some wings, pasta or maybe some sweets like cookies, brownies, flan or even ice cream. The thoughts were washed away as you washed up and put some comfy pjs on along with some slippers.

Your bed was as appetizing as your favorite dish and you indulged in laying in it. The sheets were light and airy as to not suffocate you in heat. You sighed in content, you could hear the ocean waves clashing, you might as well have felt them against you as you laid here, too.

You quickly reached over for your phone on your nightstand and the time read “11:23P.M” A familiar knock reverberated throughout the room. The door from which it came was letting in light from under the door crack. Two feet shadows were smeared across the floor of your room as it faded into the darkness surrounding you and everything else.

It was Damian, you already knew and although you’d love to see him, you really didn’t have it in you to get up. Your phone began angrily buzzing and as you opened it you read three messages, each second adding a new one.

“You awake?” Seen 11:24pm

“Open the door”

“Bruh”

“Cmon it’s locked “

As if he couldn’t just unlock it himself…

“I know you’re awake 😾”

You sighed and grumbled as you moved the sheets away and made your way to the door. “whattttttt” you whined and Damian quickly pushed his way in. He laid down onto your bed and made himself comfortable. All you could bring yourself to do was stand there like a toddler.

“What?” He pat the spot next to him, the spot you were previously laying in. You grumbled and just made your way under the covers next to him. You two began talking about whatever came across your minds and somewhere along the way, the hallway light was turned off. You were in pure darkness.

“Hey” you asked, you and Damian were facing each other and your legs may or may not have been intertwined. “What’s up” he obviously moved his head but you couldn’t see beyond the light that seeped in through your balcony window.

“Were you wet because-“ Damian quickly covered your mouth with his hands and when you managed to peel them off he quickly pulled away from you and tried to escape. “Haha cmon damiannnn” you held onto his waist and tried to get him to lay down again.

After a little while of you prodding at him he finally answered “yes….” It was practically a mumble. “Huh? Sorry I didn’t hear you” you teased him and he grumbled and said it loud enough to be normal so you let it go. God forbid he get so fed up he leaves to his own room.

A long silence followed and you had assumed Damian was already asleep but then you felt him scratch his arm. “Damian?” It was the only time you might get to yourselves….

“What?” He moved again to face you and give you his full attention. “I love you” he grumbled and faced away while mumbling a small “you’re cringe.”

That seemed to have been the end of your conversation as it faded and your consciousness began to slip away. Before you could fully sleep, you fortunately felt Damian kiss your forehead and whisper back and ‘I love you too.’

-

The next morning you and Damian happily managed to get up early and eat breakfast together at a bar table that had a baristaon duty that made you and Damian some smoothies to go with your breakfast. While eating, the zombie you knew as Jason made his way towards you.

Clearly the beer consumption from last night was finally taking a toll on him…

[ur-so-mine]

Y/n : So your name is Damian Al Ghul Wayne?

Damian : Yes

Y/n : Woah your name is bigger than your cock.

Jason , spits out water : Wait What!? You saw his cock!?

Damian : ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

[super-marvel-dc]

Y/N: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff and got distracted.

Dick: I'm stuff!

Damian: I'm got distracted.

Jason: We had sex.

[comfyrhyme20574]

Clary & Jason talking about Damian

“…And God help anyone who disrespected the queen.”

[rainnyydaysworld]

Reader: Are we fighting or flirting?

Damian: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Reader: Your point?

[thotsofadepravedwoman]

Bird bomb

Authors note: I have no idea what this is, I’m sleep deprived and thought of this and jotted it down. It’s probably ass, but if you want to see more, let me know.

Trigger warnings: mentions of nudity, possibly OOC!Damian, Nothing else really.

~~~

It was wrong, Damian knew it. His father would never approve. But something about her laugh, about how her long blue braids bounced as she tinkered with her inventions, something about how she giggled when she pulled that trigger had captivated him heart and soul. He knew if his father ever found out about her, he would lock her up in Arkham with her father for all intents and purposes. Damian knew Bruce would never understand. He just couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t take that chance. So he kept his escapades with her a secret.

“Birdie boy~” her singsong voice echoed around the abandoned warehouse she had transformed into her own personal hideout away from the prying eyes of Harley and Joker. She had taken him there the first time they met, before Damian knew who she was or who she was involved with.

Damian sat up on his elbows, the soft blankets and pillows piled on the bed sunk under the weight. “Yes, Habibti?” he called out, looking over to her work bench that she sat at, nothing but his cape covering her body.

“Should I swap the cores from nitrous to ionic for my firelights?” Damian knew she was only asking to confirm her own thoughts, after all, she was the expert on explosives.

“I do believe you were telling me earlier that Ion cores have a softer explosion, but a larger shockwave.”

“Ooooooo…” She trailed off, bobbing her head to the music in her head as she twisted the head off of the mechanical bug she had invented. “True, true, true…” her humming bounced around the warehouse.

Damian sighed, falling back on the bed, his head bouncing on the pillow. He wished he could stay here with her forever, away from the responsibilities of being Talia’s son, of being Bruce’s son, of being Robin. When here, surrounded by her graffiti and plushes and her endless string of new and improved explosives and demolitions, he was nothing, just Damian, her Damian, and she was just his Powder, not Jinx.

She giggled over her shoulder, her bangs falling over her eyes. “Oh, you big baby. I'll be back in bed in a second.”

Damian rolled his eyes, the fairy lights and candles illuminating the place bathed everything in a sweet, warm glow. “I haven't a clue what you speak of, my love.”

She bounced over to Damian, the cape falling from her shoulders when she reached the edge of the bed, leaving her naked, as was he. Damian threw his arm out, closing his eyes with a content sigh leaving his lips as she settled back into his side. Her braids fell over the side of the bed, his arm pulling her closer to his chest, still ever so slightly flushed from their previous activities.

“Whatcha thinkin ‘bout?” she asked, placing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

He sighed, weighing the options of telling the truth, or obfuscating, “How much I wish this could leave the confines of these four walls.” Damian looked down at her, watching carefully for her reaction, small relief washing over him when she smiled up at him.

“I’d love that, Dami.” She said, placing more chaste kisses along his jaw and cheek. “I'd love to see your fathers reaction.” Her giggles pulled the corners of his mouth up as he leaned down to place a warm kiss on her plush lips, still messy with the remnants of her purple lipstick.

“I would rather not lose you on our first outing, Habibti.” Damian tried to play his words off as a joke, the reality of his words still sticking on his lips like tar.

She shifted, sitting herself on Damians lap, her hands coming to rest on either side of his head, his gold chain hanging down from her neck. “I'd come crawling right back if I had too.” she placed a kiss on his lips, “You know i would.”

“I know, beloved.” He leaned up placing another kiss on her lips, his hands gripping her hips, his contentment pouring out of him in his every action. “Not even death could possibly keep us apart.”

~~~

“Where have you been?” His fathers words cut through the haze of Damians happiness like a knife, leaving behind only anxiety masked as indifference.

“Good evening, Father.” He sighed, pulling the domino mask from his face, the smudged black eyeliner around his eyes only serving to heighten the look of disinterest on his face.

“Answer my question.”

“I've been out on patrol.” Damian answered. It wasn't exactly a lie. He had been on patrol for an hour before he went to see her.

“Wrong, Demon brat,” Jason peaks out from his chair, a burger in his hand, “I was out on patrol, and I didn't see you once.” Jason points his finger at Damian, taking a bite out of the half gone burger.

“Then work on your observational skills.” Damian began removing his armor, placing it back into the case, stripping himself down to everything but the underlayer.

“Damian,” Bruce warned. He knew that tone of voice, he only heard it used once before with Jason when Bruce caught Jason intentionally killing people.

He rolled his eyes, sighing and turning to walk out of the cave. “Goodnight, father,” He shoots a glare over his shoulder at Jason, “Todd.”

“We will talk about this in the morning, Damian.” Damian had already entered the elevator, the doors closing before he allowed himself to lean back against the back wall, looking at his reflection in the door, catching a glimpse of a purple lipstick mark half hidden by the neck of his undershirt. The reminder of her making Damian realize.

He left his cape with her.

[plethorawrites]

So we’ve seen all of the batbros as cats but what about the reader? What would happen if they were turned into a cat?

This took forever, sorry! But yes, I totally can!

Bruce: Weary and worried.

• Before all else, he's concerned with making sure you're alright. He calls Zatanna immediately to ensure it's not permanent and then after he knows it's not, he can relax enough to try to comfort you.

• He was never a cat person, only ever owning dogs, so he really has no clue how to take care of a cat. Let alone a cat who's really the love of his life. He tries, though. He gets Alfred to make you dinner, something that's fresh and not gross Tuna or Salmon from a can. He gives you your choice of every throw pillow in the manor to tear up when he sees you get antsy, your claws flicking in and out in stress. And of course, everything poisonous to cats like the peace lilies in the living room are moved far away.

• Bruce still has to go to work, unfortunately and with no idea how to keep you entertained, puts on those "Soothing cat videos" on the big TV in his bedroom for you to watch. A six hour loop of a fishtank is less than ideal but seems to work well enough.

• You're in the same place as when he left you, so he assumes you didn't mind too much. He notices you grooming yourself, not because you want to, but out of some strange instinct you've developed and he can tell you're grossed out by your own actions, so he does his best to clean your fur himself. You might be a cat, but you seem to like water so he puts you in the bathtub and scrubs your fur with your normal soap which makes you pur.

• Until he takes you out of the warm water and you're absolutely freezing, shivering from the cold. He wraps you in a towel and holds you to his chest until you're mostly dry, then, despite the dampness of your fur, let's you curl up under the covers since you're still a bit chilly. It makes his own skin wet, but he doesn't mind since at least you seem a bit happier.

---

Dick: Amused and empathetic.

• He tries not to laugh. He really does. It's just...so much harder than it should be. You look so small, so adorable, so fuzzy. You have a tail, for God's sake. How could it not be hilarious? He only stops chuckling when you swat your paw at him, catching him with sharp claws, cutting him. He doesn't get upset since he knows he deserved it.

• Goes to the pet store with you, letting you sit in the cart and pick out your own things, which, he can tell you dislike but reluctantly comply—otherwise he'd buy you a rat themed toy instead of the feather one you wanted. You gurgle and growl repeatedly when he picks up those stupid cat costumes, but he still buys them anyway.

• And yes, he does force you to wear them. You resisted, at first, of course, but eventually gave up when he gave you those puppy dog eyes. If you thought being a cat was humiliating, you couldn't have prepared for being a cat wearing a sombrero and poncho. "Those are our Christmas cards this year," he tells you, kissing the top of your head while you meow in protest.

• Despite that, he's still sweet to you, apologizing for you having to go through this and swearing he'll fix it. In the meantime, just try to stay positive. He'll say you can rip up the drapes if it makes you feel better. You do and it does. You always hated them and he refused to get rid of them, but now there was a valid reason to.

• He sits on the floor with you, swinging the feather toy around as you chase it, gaining a good amount of height the longer you play. His arm gets tired but you're clearly not, so he sits there until you eventually get sick of it and he sets it down while you crawl into his lap for a nap. He was going to make something to eat, but he supposes he can wait.

---

Jason: Paranoid and terrified.

• His initial response is to reassure you that you'll be fine. He'll do whatever it takes you turn you back into a human, no matter what. His second response, is to freak out. He has no idea how to take care of a cat, let alone his partner who's a cat! What if he hurts you? What if he can't fix it?

• Being a cat, you, unbeknownst to him, sense him apprehension and almost immediately start rubbing against his legs until he hesitantly picks you up, cradling you in his arms as gently as possible. You rub your head against his jaw, trying to soothe him and he takes a few deep breaths, relaxing and nuzzling your fur.

• It takes him a while, and a lot of trial and error to figure out how to take care of you, be it buying food you don't like, to accidentally leaving the window open and panicking that you escaped (you were under the bed, because it was warm and safe) but he eventually calms down once the day is finally over.

• Cuddling with you on the couch, he can barely even feel your claws kneeding on his arms because there's so much scar tissue it's too hard to scratch and hurt. Your purring is what calms him down the most though, after an extremely long, stressful day. You sitting on his lap, his hand resting on your back as he slowly and accidentally falls asleep.

• When he wakes up, you're still a cat, still sleeping on him. He picks you up carefully, taking you to the bedroom so he can sleep in his bed and you aren't left alone in the living room. He has a feeling you'll be yourself soon enough, even if he doesn't know exactly when. He'll keep you safe until then.

---

Tim: Shocked and Frantic

• He immediately starts to panic. You're a cat. A freaking cat. How? Why? What does he need to do to fix it? He has a million questions and no answers. But his stress only adds to your own and he quickly tries to calm down before soothing you: "No, no, no. It's fine. You're gonna be fine. I swear."

• Still, the second he gets you out of the room, convincing you that you'd be more comfortable in the living room than in the batcave, he starts to pace and freak out again. It's actually Damian, of all people, who gets him to snap out of it, literally slapping him across the face and telling him to be there for you instead of worrying about the details.

• He listens, to an extent, going back upstairs to where you were chewing on the fern in the living room, ripping a leaf apart. Pulling you away from it as you meow in protest, he cradles you in his arms, apologizing for fretting and promising he won't leave again.

• And he doesn't. He does, however, keep working on a way to fix you. He tries to be annoyed when you start knocking things off his desk, pushing stuff into a water bowl, jumping into his bottom drawer, laying on his papers, but he can't do it. You're just acting too cute to genuinely be mad. Eventually, he takes a break, closing the drawer you were sitting in and hauling you to his bed.

• He'll admit, he threw you with a little less caution than he probably should have, but you didn't mind, crawling onto him the moment he laid down, eager to close your eyes after being awake for far too long. Aka 5 straight hours, which, for a cat, was a lot. He didn't quite realize that, but notices almost immediately how fast you fall asleep once you lay down, curling into a ball, tucking your nose under your tail to keep it warm.

---

Damian: Is both fascinated and prepared.

• He has over a dozen pets, so when you're turned into a cat, he already knows everything there is to know and gets you anything you could possibly need. A nice cat bed, toys to keep you entertained, a post to scratch so you don't ruin any furniture.

• His others pets want to play or chase you, but he scoops you up before any of them can get even close to you. And he insists you stay close to him and not wander off, because you could get lost, kidnapped, or hurt.

• You always knew his knowledge of animals was extensive but didn't realize how much so until he was petting you, explaining how the hair follicles on cats work, which is why they never like to be pet in certain areas.

• Despite having an extremely nice bed, you'd really rather prefer his and he allows it, reminding you not to scratch the pillows or the sheets. "They're Egyptian silk. Don't ruin them." Still, when he catches you clawing at them in your sleep, unaware you were doing it, he doesn't stop you.

• In the morning, he switches feeds you breakfast, in a human bowl so it's not so degrading and takes you with him while he works on a way to fix you. He quickly gets distracted, though, by how you're looking around at everything like it's the most interesting thing ever.

[zombbean]

"Wait until it is my turn, my *dear*," a dark chuckle leaves the guild leaders throat as he eyes you with a predatory stare.

Ever since I saw the comics that had older Damian in them I've been wanting to draw him. (I couldn't see his shirt design very well so I left that out.)

[nosyrobin]

Yandere Older!Damian narrowing his eyes at his beloved husband who is getting checked out by the cashier. As reader goes to pay with his non-ring hand, Damian force switches it quickly to reader having to show his left hand. With Damian’s initials on it as well. The cashier frowns while Damian smirks.

Later on……

Damian: I should’ve had that lady’s head off for looking at you my beloved….

Reader who is nervously holding Damian’s hand: Dear…please. She’s only a cashier..

Damian who has a mean glare: Low life cashiers steal money from the cash register. What makes you think they won’t try to steal you from me..

Reader who is now baffled: Damn..