#dc comics drabbles

[axstoria]

Jason Todd taking off his shirt before slipping into bed with you for the first time ever.

He's nervous you'll hate him and the sight of all his marred skin. The 'Y' cut under his pecs and down his stomach stands out like a sore thumb, red and angry despite years of existence.

All his scars are on display: bullet wounds and cuts from knives and glass, some jagged and others sharp. They span his arms and chest, stomach and back, trailing up his neck and face.

Yet, you can't help but see him as the most beautiful boy you've ever laid eyes on, pulling him closer with a hand through his hair.

The tension leaves his body the second he realizes you just don't care about how he looks, melting into your arms like he could find all the solace in the world pressed against your chest. (And maybe he can.)

[bats-and-the-birds]

I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.

When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.

When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.

Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.

And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.

Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.

Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.

Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.

That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.

Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.

Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.

Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.

Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.

[logicallyblind]

you don’t understand l. i need batman to be weirdly good with babies. i mean, objectively when in a group of people the one dressed in an entirely military level reinforced fighting suit with a bat cowl should objectively be the last peroson someone should hand a baby to and yet. batman was the only one in an entire unit of 17 people who could calm the hysteric infant while waiting for child services to arrive on the scene and take the responsibility off the bat.

but it keeps happening. any incident which involveds a child in any form it is sent batmans way if the means allow it. and batman just,, let’s it happen. you’re not going to see him complaining in participating an experience like that was prior, inheritely one that one would be saved for couples only but,,, idk batman just chilling with a small army of toddlers and infants who fear no god so why would they fear the man that just emits safety and care yk?

the adults in the room are both terrified and impressed by their gaul lmfaoo

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

warnings: overstimulation (shocker)

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

for someone of his size and strength, jason todd gets pussydrunk so easily. what starts as him generously preparing you to take his huge cock quickly devolves into a feast for him—and torture for you—as he pins you to the bed with one arm and makes a mess of devouring your cunt, the thought of fucking you long lost in his mind.

your eyes water as his plump lips suck at your overworked clit while his free hand fucks you slowly, his large fingers coated in your slick as they slide back into you. you’re incoherent as you try to wriggle away from him, the ache of another unbearable orgasm forming in the pit of your belly. you buck your hips against his face, trying to delay the inevitable as he curls his fingers inside you.

undeterred by your squirming, jason puts more of his weight on you as he buries his face deeper in your cunt. his chin is glazed with your arousal and his saliva, and his dark lashes rest on his cheeks as he releases your clit with a lewd pop. he flattens his tongue and drags it up your folds, letting out a gravelly moan against your pussy at the way you taste. you can’t help the heat that spreads over your cheeks at the obscene display he’s putting on, but you find yourself unable to look away.

he withdraws his fingers from your entrance and uses them to spread you apart, pulling back from you so he can admire the glossy mess as you clench involuntarily at the loss of contact. embarrassment has you trying to clasp your legs shut, but he easily blocks you with his arms. “so fuckin’ pretty, ma,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he uses his thumb to smear your slick all over your sex, transfixed by the sight. “all mine, hm? all fuckin’ mine.”

you cry out as he latches back onto your clit, sucking hungrily while his hands keep you in place. you knot your fingers into his hair as your spine raises off the bed with the force of another overwhelming orgasm that has your thighs trembling around his head and your pussy gushing onto his tongue again, which he accepts with another moan. you can feel his smile against you as you breathe shakily, letting your legs collapse onto his shoulders.

“jay,” you whine suddenly, feeling him trail his lips along your inner thigh. “I can’t—”

“c’mon, princess,” he coos sweetly, grazing his thumb over your slit lightly. “just gimme one more, hm?”

[ochibrochi]

spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

[robinsfilm]

“Good news,” you chided, “the swelling should go down in a few days.”

Jason’s seafoam green eyes trail your silhouette from the couch he rests on. You fuss around the medicine cabinet, fingers wrapping around the Ibuprofen and anti-septic cream.

He sees the dull shine of your eyes as you approach him in the living room, taking a seat across from him and placing the medicine on the small oak-wood coffeé table.

“You should have come to me sooner.” Your nose scrunches up seeing the purple-green blooming on his marred skin.

“I could have helped. Instead you settle with—” you ramble on while staring down the frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise. “—frozen peas?” you deadpan.

Jason chuckles and shows his crooked grin, sly hands reaching out to you and wrapping around your free hand. “I apologize to you, doc.”

“You better be sorry!” You let out a shaky laugh, “I'm worried, Jay.”

The worried tone of your voice strikes a cord in Jason's heart. He takes the cream and carefully tries to remove the cap, being sure not to disturb the wrapping around his two broken fingers.

“Jay—” you breathe out, hands carefully wrapping around his own, “—let me help, please.” you plead, your voice reaches deep in the corners of his body and buries itself in his heart. He was always weak for you and this moment is no different. He hands you the cream.

You open your mouth, words on the tip of your mouth. Jason's eyes settle on your lips, they thin in concentration as you gather the ivory-colored cream on your fingers.

“You're lucky I’m crazy in love with you.” Your tender hands graze his bruised skin. You hold onto him like he's something worth protecting and taking care of.

“Better than frozen peas.” He mumbles as your hands lull him in a hazy sleep.

“They better be.”

“Yes, they are. A kiss should be better at healing me, though.”

“You really are lucky I love you.”

[ahfrickenfrick]

everyone who knows dick personally knows he is very smart, analytical, and geeky

however the news outlets have been spouting off ‘richie wayne’ ever since dick was taken in as bruce’s ward, and tend to write him as the ‘dumb hot’ stereotype

one night talk show gets dick onto it, under the premise that the money from that show would be going to charity, they put him up against random college students about topics they are majoring in

everyone expects dick to flirt or joke his way through the questions, so when he starts buzzing in first and answering correctly, they eventually question him

and with a shrug he says, “grew up traveling around the world, was vice president to the mathletes club that took nationals in high school at 14, and was actually in training to take up either a head aspect or a tech aspect of wayne enterprises; had to do classes and work for that, my best friend and i played video games and coded our own, also social media is easy to keep up with with my siblings and such” he finishes with a dismissive wave and smile, quickly running through the subjects that he was quizzed on

it quickly goes viral, and dick left that studio with a lighter chest and a bright smile

[yandereunsolved]

— Yandere Damian Wayne —

"D-Did you kidnap me again?"

"I hope that question was rhetorical. Then again, I didn't fall in love with you for your intelligence."

"Damian—"

"Yes, I'm in love with you. I said it out loud. I practically had to force the words out of my lips. You're welcome. You are extremely lucky to have captured my affections."

"I'm more worried about the kidnapping thing, I'll be honest."

"I did it for your protection."

"..."

"Don't give me that look! I'm an adult man. I can kidnap whomever I like."

"This isn't how people show that they love each other."

"I have been killing whoever I like for you. I will continue to do so. You don't get an opinion on this. You will stay in this manor as my new spouse, forever."

[eldritchdreamss]

Dick is good at hugs but I just know that Jason is all soft muscle until he flexes, which means he gives the best hugs. One of the Crime Alley kids finds out about this when they hug him after he saves them from being mugged and word gets around to the other kids about it. The first few times he’s asked for a hug when he checks on some of the kids shelters he’s a little surprised but obliges anyway, now when he’s out on patrol and one of the street kids sees him and asks he doesn’t hesitate. He knows there could be a million reasons why they’re asking, and if it helps them, then who is he to say no?

One night it happens while he was on patrol with Dick, they had started taking a break together semi-regularly, Jason still wasn’t at the manor often because he still felt awkward around the family, and Dick is just happy to spend as much time with his brother as he can get. So imagine Dick’s surprise, when they’re waiting for their food at a food truck, one of the kids comes up and asks Jason for a hug and he gives one without a second thought. Dick is just standing there like “????”, thinking there’s no way he saw what he just saw. That is until the kid leaves after and Jason immediately turns to him and threatens that if he tells anyone what he just saw he’ll never talk to him or the family again. Dick, of course, says he won’t tell anyone. And he doesn’t. He’s just glad his brother has people there for him.

For a few weeks Jason is ready for someone to ask or start teasing him about giving out hugs while on patrol when they address him, but no one even comes close to mentioning it. The next time he’s on break with Dick he asks why he hasn’t told anyone when he very easily could have.

“You asked me not too Littlewing.” he said, as if that answer meant anything at all. Dick must have seen his confusion because he spoke again. “You care about them Jason, it’s clear they care about you too. Of course I wish you’d open up to the family a little more, but I’m not going to tell them something you clearly didn’t even want me seeing. Knowing our family they’d push for an answer as to why or something and they’d only end up pushing you away instead of letting you open up on your own time.” he explained. Jason stared at him, that was the last answer he was expecting to hear.

After a few moments of finishing their food in silence they got up from the edge of the roof they were sitting on and threw their trash away. Jason watched as Dick started to the edge of the roof before finishing patrol, stopping at the edge to face Jason to say something. Jason wasn’t listening, one second he was watching his brother leave the next he was hugging him. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. “Thank you..” he murmured, vaguely aware of Dick’s arms hovering around him almost hesitantly for a moment before squeezing him back. They stayed like that for a few moments before they had to let go to finish their patrols. If Dick heads back to the cave more chipper than he usually is after patrol then that’s nobody’s business but his own that he just got a hug from his little brother, something they hadn’t done since even before he had died.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

By the Fireplace

BRUCE WAYNE X READER

MDNI wc: 1.2K summary: Finally snapping the sexual tension between you and your best friend. warnings: alcohol comsumption, dry humping a/n: It's not perfect but it's also nearing midnight so i don't care. Enjoy!!

It‘s been a relaxing evening so far, hanging out with your long time best friend in his lounge by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, and some deep talk. Bruce will never openly admit it, but he feels like you are the only one who understands him. While being slightly drunk, it‘s easier to relax and shut his mind off. Especially sitting beside you on the comfortable couch; he wants to stay like that forever.

The shared comfortable silence almost makes him fall asleep, but his mind can‘t seem to find complete peace beside you. Even when his head is leaning against the top of your head, he can‘t seem to fully relax yet.

You feel almost the same. You do feel relaxed, safe even, but something keeps stirring inside of you when you are so close to him. Ignoring it and taking another sip of your drink, you watch the fireplace crackle contentedly in front of you.

Bruce sighs out beside you, indicating his tiredness after talking about everything and nothing for hours.

»Want a refill?«

He leans off of you for the first time in probably half an hour and reaches for the whiskey bottle by the coffee table. You shrug and sit up more, letting him fill your glass with the dark liquid.

His movements are slightly disoriented, but he manages to get all the liquid into your glass, and then get more for himself. With a low hum, Bruce sips on his drink, eventually leaning back on the couch. His once perfectly put together appearance became more dishevelled, some strands of hair sticking out in different directions while his tie is resting somewhere in the room; long forgotten.

You also take another quick sip, already used to the bitterness and set it aside for now.

»So… I think it‘s time to go, isn‘t it?«

The time on your phone shows that it‘s well past one am, but Bruce thinks otherwise. A small whine leaves him, completely uncharacteristic normally, but very on point in his drunken state.

»C‘mon, you‘ve only been here for what… two hours?«

He sways on his spot as he leans up and turns to face you fully.

It‘s not exactly true, you‘ve been in his living room for six hours by now, talking nonsense with each other. Gossiping, mostly.

But with your intoxicated brains it‘s hard to tell anymore. So, logically, you sigh out and give in. How could you resist your best of bestest friend anyway?

»A few more minutes, then...«

And that‘s how easily you can make him smile again. It‘s crooked and his eyes are mostly unfocused, but he is satisfied with your easy compliance. And tonight, he seems to be bolder with his actions.

»C‘mere… please,« sighing out, he opens his arms and almost tackles you down with his hug, »such a good friend.« He mumbles against your shoulder, basically squeezing you tight with his arms. If it wouldn‘t been the alcohol, you would‘ve pushed him away by now and pretend to find the physical affection cringe. Not that he does it a lot, only rarely when he is sure you are both absolutely alone.

A second after, you hug him back and sigh out in relaxation. You both melt together into one not too long after, refusing to let go of the other while basking in the comfort.

»I‘m definitely sleeping here tonight.«

You are not sure if you refer to his arms or couch, not caring at this point. He takes your words seriously and squeezes you lightly, almost making your breath hitch.

»Mhm… damn right, you will.«

His voice drops lower, getting into a low whisper as he keeps you close to his chest, refusing to let go of the comfort and sweet scent of you.

Even though you didn‘t mean your words at first, you find yourself quickly accepting the fact that this night will be spend here. Hell, you wouldn‘t mind falling asleep right now like this.

A small groan leaves him and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck, searching for more warmth and most importantly your scent. He needs to make sure you are actually still there and not just a silly imagination he came up with.

Following his actions, you wrap you arms tighter around his neck, shifting to press closer. Your clouded brain can‘t help it, neither does his own and soon enough, your limbs are tangled with the other in a more chaotic way. Thanks to Bruce‘s master-brain, he finds a more comfortable position and lets you straddle his lap.

Finally seated, you both relax and simply enjoy the presence of the other. You don‘t know what changed exactly, but in the next minute he is all over you.

Hands groping gently at your curves and fats, lips tracing your skin down your neck and shoulder. Your shirt seems to be in the way, but he is also too lazy to tug it off just yet.

Your brain catches up on what‘s happening and by the time he already started, you can‘t just stop. Acting by logic and pure desire, you give into the act and tangle your fingers into his hair, guiding his head around a little.

Soon, the room fills his soft grunts and your heavy breathing. His hips desperatly jerk up and try to get friction, but it‘s harder in this position when his chest is pressed against yours and you are also pressed completely against him. Deciding you have enough of the friction that‘s barely even there, you lean him back into the back rest and do it your own way.

Hips grinding and sliding against his crotch earns a groan from both of you. The new friction feels more intense and delicious, soon getting breathless from it. His hands settle on your thighs and the small of your back, guiding you in a steady rythm.

Due to the effect of the alcohol, it‘s actually more sloppy than anything, but you both couldn‘t care less. It‘s sloppy, messy, hungry, whatever; you both need this.

Your heavy breaths turn into small whimpers, getting him riled even more than he already is. And then it happens, the final knot snapping without warning. You never came so fast before, maybe it‘s your intoxicated brain, maybe it‘s just Bruce alone, but it feels heavenly either way.

Your hips stutter and thighs shake on either side of him, and for a moment he stills too. A primal groan leaves him before he grabs onto your hips and continues, the pace faster and rougher. His brain immediately went to mush the second he realised what happened.

»Oh, yeah— s‘ good f‘ me… just like that, a little longer,« Bruce mutters under his breath, sucking new marks against the exposed skin of your neck and suddenly drags your hips painfully slow against him, trying to draw out as many needy sounds from you and milk out as many possible aftershocks from you at the same time.

The way he does it is enough to draw a second orgasm out of you, but your body simply gives out. A few final trembles and jerks, then you slump limp onto him.

Sighing out deeply, he caresses over your back and settles back comfortably with you. Your brain shuts off at the same time and are on the brink of falling asleep until he speaks up, voice low and dangerous.

»That‘s not all, doll… gonna stay the whole night, aren‘t ya?«

←MASTERLIST

[grr4wr]

I’m here to say Jason motherfucking Todd has praise kink, thank you very much.

Not even sexually.

Like that man lives in such darkness and terror that a small “You did great,” was making his knees weak for you.

What? He fixed your broken lamp? and you’re being a normal human being by saying “Thank you, Jay, I know I can count on you” and his whole face is red as the hoodie he’s wearing but he just grumbled and shrugged it off per usual but repeating those words mindlessly throughout the day— maybe even weeks.

Oh he saw you talking with other men? and you’re just clarifying that— “You’re the only guy that caught my heart.” he makes sure he knows your ring size in the next hour.

And if he had hard time with his bubbling jealousy, tell him your standards in men. By describing him, — “He’s big and tall, also has a pretty puppy eyes when he’s pouty and and, maybe a bit grumpy. I like my man that way,” and he’s all putty and mushy.

ALSO tell him he’s been doing good. melted. instantly. groaning and begging for more praises.

again, not even sexually, just throwing a simple compliment to him for “being such a good boyfriend to me,” and he will drop on his knees in front of you.

Just saying :/

[axstoria]

Bruce Wayne kisses like you're the last thread of sanity holding him to this world. He'll cradle your face in his hands, lips making long, languidly slow movements over your own. By the end of it, you're pushed against some kind of furniture and panting, while he's already leaving to pull on his cowl. It hurts to see him go, yet you know that he'll be home again to kiss you senseless until the world makes sense.

Richard Grayson kisses like he'll be dead tomorrow. Little pecks along your cheek, forehead, neck—anywhere he can get those plush lips on. He'll kiss you until you're both breathless, chests heaving and faces flushed. He'll love you until the day he dies, and he makes sure that you know that. Every day, he spends like it's his last, and every day, he makes sure to give you so many kisses, you're drowning in his love.

Jason Todd kisses like he doesn't know how. Sure, he's had a few hookups, especially during his early days as Red Hood, but he's never kissed a person like you. He loves you, it's as simple as that. With others, he is rough and fast, not knowing how to slow down and just enjoy the presence of the person beneath him. With you, all he can do is be gentle, because you're the only person who has stayed and loved him as the broken man he is.

Tim Drake kisses you like he's trying to study you. He'll nip at your neck and jaw just to see how you react, just to grin to himself as he observes the way you melt into him when his lips meet yours. He'll let his hands wander to see what makes you relax, what makes your lips stutter against his. He enjoys every interaction like you are his subject and he is the scientist. He needs to know everything. Knowledge calls for him in his blood, and you, his love, are the doorway to it.

AgedUp!Damian Wayne kisses expensively. He starts at your jaw, making soft motions towards your lips until he finally claims them with his own. His wide hands hold you in place by the waist and his dark hair tickles your skin. He'll take his time, loving on you the way you deserve. He knows just how to kiss you like he knows just how to kill a man. He kisses soft and slow, because why would he have to rush? He has his beloved in his arms, whispering his name against his lips; what more could he want?

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: Had this in my drafts and i just needed to know i'm not alone.... Just thinking about possessive Dick Grayson being a sloppy and disgusting kisser. PLEASE HEAR ME ON THIS. errr this is a drabble that is kind of unfinished but you get the vibesss. There really no plot...just wanted an excuse to draft up this though so.....

Warnings: suggestive not full blown nsfw....

request: always open

masterlist

He'd have you pinned under his body the moment you entered the apartment. Your wrists were pinned together by just one of his hands and your legs were locked in between his muscular thighs. It hadn't taken much to completely subdue you like this, though you fought as hard as you could, you were helpless up against someone as skillful as he. He's ever so cocky about it at first too as his hot tongue trailed down the side of your neck until your body slightly twitched. ugh! He found a new sweet spot and it peaked his interests. You probably thought your loving partner wouldn't notice, huh? Oh, he notices everything, no matter how minor it may have been ...just like when he noticed how that person was eyeing you earlier.

"Be good and stay still for me. You don't wanna make me unhappy, right?"

You could feel his lips purse up into that cocky smile of his as he let out a chuckle. It was sly, maybe even a little twisted in the way he let it out. His mind was revisiting how good it felt to put them back in their place. Oh just how terrified they looked realizing how much they fucked up by having the audacity to even think they had a chance with you. And for Dick be on top of you like this right now while they were probably limping home? Man, that creep would flip his shit if he could see this. It gave Dick too much of an ego to be the only one in the world who'd ever have the pleasure to do whatever they wanted with you.

While he soaked in moments like this, you hated it. His arrogance left a sour taste in your mouth. Dick didn't deserve to be rewarded for this poor behavior and think this was okay. You tried once more to fight and tell him how you seriously needed to talk about boundaries but it was useless.

That didn't surprise you tho. Dick had selective listening and was too self righteous to ever admit to his wrong doings. He was like a puppy who desperately wanted to play but couldn't grasp the concept that he just destroyed the living room and you're pissed off at him. . You could punish, scream and threaten him but Dick will never fail to get what he wanted in the end.

His tongue met with the crook of your neck and slowly made circles in place.

"i'll let you curse at me all night but please just be still and let me just-"

He let out a breathy plead before he was sucked back into his selfish desires. It was pathetic how quickly he could melt into you. He hadn't even done anything yet but the taste of you was enough to send his body into overdrive. Suddenly he was the one struggling to stay still. It was far too hot in this damn apartment and his clothes were too restrictive. It was evident he didn't exactly know what to do with himself even though he's done this a million times. He couldn't stop himself from becoming overly excited each and every time he had you like this. So eager to explore your body like it was the first time all over again. His one free hand slithering under your dress and grabbing onto anything that was soft and plump.

You could feel your neck being pulled at as his lips sucked on your sweat spot. You tried to remain upset and stiff as he left his love bite but it was hard when you had someone as disgusting as Dick all over you like this.

Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head when his lips crashed into yours, shoving his perverted tongue as far as he could inside your mouth without any warning. The sounds of Dick's lewd moaning and smacking of each others lips filled the apartment as he sloppily made out with you.

He was so shameless in the way he handled you. He constantly craved more. More attention...more affirmations....more you.

Dick doesn't stop until he's begging you with his big, blue eyes, hoping you'd forget all about what he did to upset you. come onnn and be a good owner....he really...reallly wants to play right now.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: the picture on the left is michal mrazik who i edited to look like jason so i’d appreciate it if u didn’t use it.

JASON TODD who humps your ass any chance he gets. Not that he’s desperate for relief like some hound, but that it’s his own personal bit that sometimes reaps benefits. You weren’t trying to catch his eye when you were stretching out, on your hands and knees to extend your spine in a deep arch. Inhale after exhale, each breath relaxed you, until a perfect visible curve to your back sloped into your succulent backside and lured your boyfriend in like a fly trap.

As if he could smell that you’re in a compromising position, he comes up behind you on the mattress. You can feel his weight shift as he walks on his knees to you, dick first. “What’re you doin’?” he asks coyly, and his hips bumps yours. You roll your eyes with a scoff; only he could assume you’re doing this for him. Easily, like he’s done a thousand times before, his thick fingers slot in the folds where your thighs connect to your pelvis, wedging between the fat there because of your stance. He keeps you steady as he swings forward, giving you congratulatory little humps. “Uh, uh, uh,” he orates with each thrust, as if narrating his entry with feigned moans. Each one’s harder than the last, and as he knocks against your tailbone, your body reminds you of the times you’ve been in similar positions.

The powerful placebo shoots through you with each connect, and you whine from the memory of him rearranging your guts in doggy style. He dry humps you yet you’re squirming and whimpering like he’s inside you, burying your heated face in the covers. He doesn’t fully register the extent of it, but he starts getting the picture, and he muses, “Yeah? Yeah, baby? Feel good?” while he’s rutting harder. You’re so stupid for him, you respond to him with all your pathetic confirmations. You’re banging against him, you can practically feel every inch of him plunging in you, his balls rapping against your folds. Both of you are playing the game, his cock hardening with each gradual increase of pace, and every manic thrust against you. The sensation of sex isn’t confined to memory, traveling through you like lightning, like he really is fucking you. It’s all imaginary though, clearly reminding you of cruel reality when he stops. Only to kickstart up again when you hear the familiar sound of his belt.

[aangelinakii]

EVER SEEN.

— you have the prettiest eyes i've ever seen.

summary : you've been by damian's side for so long, you've seen everything. one night, the sun is lowering below gotham, but damian is watching something else.

note : if you can't tell i LOVE basing my fics off bea songs i literally laurv her saur muchhhh

whenever wayne manor got too loud, too crowded, too overwhelming, damian always found himself making his way back to you. this wasn't a now-thing, this has been happening since he was still a feisty young kid, constantly underestimated, constantly jabbed at. but you were the calm in his hectic life that taught him "normal" can be possible for someone like him.

someone raised by assassins, someone whose father is the richest man in the city. someone you appreciated nonetheless.

tonight, after a rather tedious dinner (jason was upset at bruce again for letting the joker kill him that one time, and stephanie was hogging the roast potatoes), damian shifted away to his bedroom and fled the mansion through a crack in his window.

you remember the first time he appeared on the other side of your window, knocking. living in gotham, you'd immediately assumed these were going to be your last living moments, but when you saw the spiky hair of your best friend on the other side, all worries subsided.

it had happened after a few months of friendship – when you were unsure where exactly you stood in his eyes, whether you were friends, best friends, or acquaintances – and damian had opened up about home, how it could be a lot. of course it could; no matter what type of household you live in, it can always become a lot.

"come round mine," you'd said, and saw damian physically retract. confusion? disgust? you'd never know. "here's my address. just knock on my window, my roof has an amazing view of the city, and no one knows it's there."

no one would know he was there. so, later that night, he appeared.

although the first time, it wasn't the last.

almost ten years later, damian was escaping from his bedroom at wayne manor, a mansion overfilled, overloaded by now. it had started off as once every couple of months, but, as the two of you grew, and damian's heart began to swell each time you spoke, it turned weekly. if you're lucky, maybe twice a week.

room dark, save for the dim lamp lit on your bedside table, you were focused on your phone. gotham outside your window had been shut out, locked away, blocked by a curtain. nothing could come in and get you tonight. not until...

knock, knock, knock.

eyebrow raising, you placed your phone down carefully onto the sheets and sat up. damian didn't say he was coming round tonight, but, then again, he never said when he was – but it was expected. he's already been round three times this week, already out of the ordinary.

you approached the window and carefully peeled back the curtain, eyebrows furrowed, but the tension in your forehead dissipated once your gaze set on the boy on the other side of the glass, his cheeky smile recipe for one of your own.

reaching out to unlock the window, you pushed it up, allowing a cool breeze to flutter in. that impish smile on his lips, damian moved to rest his elbows on the ledge.

"roof?" he hummed, peering up at you with his pale green eyes, which spiked as the darkness was vaguely illuminated by the lamp leaking out from your room.

despite trying to play off as annoyed – surprised, even – you struggled to keep the smile from your lips as you looked down at him, fingers gripping the plush material of the curtain. "this is, like, the fourth time you've come round," you chuckled, corner of your lip twitching with the ghost of a smile.

damian merely shrugged, resting his chin on his arm, tilting his head until his cheek met the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

the way he looked at you caused your heart to pang, and it hadn't stopped for ten years.

allowing a few moments to pass for effect, your gaze lingered on his, before you carefully pushed his elbows off the window ledge, and shuffled onto it yourself. damian took a step back, holding a hand out for you to take, helping you to the metal grating of the fire exit on the side of your room, which would lead up to the roof; your place.

just as you had told him that one day however many years ago, the roof of your apartment had an amazing view of gotham; the best, if you wanted to argue that. it was just a flat, no one would expect it, which was why it was so perfect for the two of you – no one to disturb you, perfect to just talk.

before you could even sit, damian was tugging off his grey sweatshirt, and placing it down on the tile beside him.

you gave a chuckle. "what are you doing?"

"don't want your pyjamas to get dirty," he responded, patting the cotton as he peered up at you, before turning to look at the pollution of lights along the city skyline.

your eyes lingered on him for a moment before you sat down on his folded sweatshirt, tucked to give you just enough room to stay clean. he was always casually thoughtful like that, not even giving it a second thought before doing something, and then acting like it didn't just change the entire trajectory of your perspective on him.

"so, what happened this time?" you hummed after some comfortable silence, but damian only gave a croon as he looked over at you, and you glanced back. "i mean, i'm assuming you didn't just want to come see me."

"oh," your best friend replied, a soft chuckle to his response as he turned back to the skyline. "yeah, just..." he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his raven hair. "a lot going on. wanted to get away." damian took a break in his words and looked back curiously at you. "if that's okay?"

you gave a laugh, prepared to tease him. "oh, so you only want to see me when there's "a lot going on." typical."

"hey, you know i don't mean it like that," damian groaned, elbowing you lightly in the side, his words unable to disguise the smile in his tone.

once the joking energy had faded from the air, you turned to him with a calmer voice. "you know it's always okay to come round, damian," you smiled. "even when there isn't a lot going on. just whenever you want. for you, there's always time."

as you peered over at him, front of his face just barely illuminated by the distant gotham city lights, his eyes trailed over to you, small smile upon his lips. he focused in on you for a moment, vaguely nodding, before turning back to the view.

after knowing him so long, you recognised that as gratitude, and you didn't comment any further, simply turning to look at gotham, too.

you gave a soft sigh, bringing your legs up to your chest, to rest your chin upon your knee. "if you ignore everything wrong with this place, gotham could be one of the prettiest cities in the world."

"tokyo's pretty nice," damian hummed in return, leaning back on his hands against the tiling of the roof. "not sure if gotham could compare to that."

"never seen tokyo. that would be nice."

"we could go one time." damian looked over at you, the ghost of a smile along his lips.

"you'd do that with me?"

damian nodded softly, expression shrinking, sort of bashful now. his thoughtful eyes lingered on yours, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious, so you turned away.

"you know, you've always had the most amazing eyes," damian piped up, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the vroom of cars below.

heart catching in your throat, you looked back up at him, lips parted in a quiver. "sorry?"

that expression on your face, he mistook for horror, and the soft smile on damian's mouth disappeared almost immediately. "oh– i'm sorry, i... shouldn't have said that." he quickly turned away, horror visible in his own eyes, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth in distaste.

all these years... did his heart pound in his chest each time you spoke his name, as yours did when he spoke yours? did he have to brush his palms against the knees of his pants before knocking on your window? was his first thought every morning as he opened his eyes.. you?

"hey," you hummed, shuffling closer to him, not minding that your pants were half-against the tile, carefully taking his wrist in your fingers to peel his hand away from his mouth. "it's okay, i'm... i'm not mad, i just..."

you felt yourself begin to shrink up. take a breath.

"thank you." his eyes met yours, and, at the sight of your smile, his own mouth melted into a soft twinkle. "i'm not mad. at all. i just... you feel the same?"

a flicker of recognition flashed in damian's green eyes, and his fingers absently moved to lace into yours.

"the same?" he hummed, hopeful.

[chaotic-birds]

silly kitty

Jason's forced to use the only bandaids you have at home.

🩹 G/AUs: fluff, est. relt. 🩹 TW: blood, gn!reader but is called cute/adorable/pretty 🩹 WC: 1.6k 🩹 A/N: I've combined my (strange) love for bandaids and Jason Todd in one fic... also inspired by all the fanart of Jason with bandaids on his face 🥺 he's so cute i wanna eat him nomnomnom

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

masterlist

Jason wakes startled.

He senses eyes on him which makes him jackknife up and reach for his gun. Though before he pulls it out, your face registers in his brain.

You’re staring down at him with a frown.

“What is that?” you ask, beating him to his own question.

“What is what?” he asks, still tired. He rubs a hand over his face to try to wake up.

“That.” You point to his face.

“My… face?”

You huff and connect your finger to his cheek.

“You’re bleeding on our couch,” you say.

Jason frowns. He hadn’t meant to get blood on the furniture. He didn’t even realize he was still bleeding.

“So, to answer your question: A scratch.”

You grab his shoulders and pull him into a seating position. When he’s situated, you leave for the bathroom. You come back holding something in one hand and a damp rag in another.

“What are you doing?” Jason asks, gaze moving up as you stand in front of him.

“Playing doctor,” you simply reply.

“I’m fine—”

“Hush,” you command.

He does.

His eyes stare into yours as you gently wipe away the small amount of blood. His hands rise to your hips, giving them a massage while you work.

He shouldn’t be surprised. This isn’t the first, nor the last, time you’ve fretted over a simple cut. Sure, the cut on his face was more than a paper cut, but it wasn’t deep enough to get stitches or anything.

“This was the only one they had at the store the other day,” you explain as you gently adhere a bandaid to his cheek.

Jason’s brows scrunch in confusion. He’s not sure exactly what you’re talking about.

Once done, you take a small step back to assess his face.

“That was the only one, babe,” he says, knowing you’re looking for more injuries.

Then an odd smile creeps on your lips and before he can question it, you’re pulling your phone from your back pocket with one hand and cupping his chin with the other.

You tilt his face up and give the lower part of his cheeks a squeeze—avoiding his bandaid.

Jason sits still in utter puzzlement, staring up at you. He can feel his cheeks squish and his lips pout at your action. Then he hears the click of the camera.

“What was that about?” he asks. His voice is slightly muffled since you’re still holding onto him.

You giggle staring at your phone.

Without answering, you lean down and peck his puckered lips.

“Your job to clean the couch,” you reply instead and saunter off to the bedroom.

Jason watches you and tries to understand what just happened.

The sleepiness from before soon washes over him. He’s about to lay back down when your words ring in his ears. He needs to clean the couch.

Grumbling, he pushes off the cushion and moves to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth.

As he’s about to exit, he catches his reflection in the mirror.

He scoffs lightly.

On his cheek is a Hello Kitty bandaid.

The cat’s face is repeated over a pink polka dot pattern.

He takes a detour and pushes open the bedroom door. You’re sat on the bed, laptop on your lap.

Hearing the door open, you glance up. You bite back a laugh.

“Seriously?” he huffs, although not mad.

You shrug. “I told you that’s all they had.”

“The cut’s not that bad. I don’t need this on,” he points to the pink and white bandaid.

You set your laptop to the side and slide out of bed. You grab his wrist that’s lifted and give him a glare.

“You take off that bandaid and I’ll redecorate this entire apartment with Hello Kitty merch, plaster Hello Kitty stickers on your helmet, and make it known to the world that Red Hood adores the silly cat.”

Jason stares at you. He tries really hard not to smile because he knows you’re threatening him. But holy fuck do you look cute mad.

“I’m serious, Jay!” you exclaim and give his wrist a little shake.

“I won’t take it off,” he concedes.

You tilt your chin up in victory. A smile grows.

Jason’s heart flips.

He thinks you’re so adorable. Way more than the damn cat he has on his face.

You quickly lean in and kiss his lips then the bandaid.

“Good boy,” you tease with a wink and climb into bed again.

Your focus stays off him but he can tell you’re doing that on purpose. Jason almost joins you in bed when he feels something wet hit his thigh.

Right… the couch.

Jason lingers in the doorway. You’re still ignoring him, but there’s a small smile on your face that he wants to wipe away with his mouth. Shaking his head to rid the temptation, he leaves to clean up the mess on the couch.

When Jason takes his helmet off in the batcave after patrol, snickers erupt around him.

“What?” he grumbles.

He stares at his family who eyes him with mirth. No one says anything for a few seconds.

“You, uh,” Dick begins to say as he tries to suppress his laughter. “You got a thing for cute little cats now?”

“What?” Jason huffs and runs a hand through his helmet hair.

“I knew he was a softie on the inside,” Stephanie says, her gaze flickering down slightly.

“I bet he loves red because it’s close to pink,” Damian pipes up.

Jason narrows his eyes.

“You wearing pink undies too?” Dick asks.

It’s then it finally clicks.

He reaches up to tear the stupid bandaid from his face, but then your victory smile flashes in his mind.

He curses under his breath and flips them all the bird instead.

Laughter fills the cave.

Jason shakes his head and goes to his motorcycle.

“Wait,” Stephanie says between laughs. “What about our meeting?”

“Let him go, he probably misses his Hello Kitty stuffie,” Tim says.

Jason scowls in Tim’s direction as he climbs on his motorcycle. He leaves without a word, but their laughter echoes in his mind. He’s chucking that Hello Kitty bandage box in the nearby dumpster tomorrow.

When he gets home, he finds you asleep. He tries to be quiet while getting ready for bed, but you stir awake anyway as soon as he slides under the covers.

Your eyes barely peel open and Jason smiles at the sight.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he murmurs and wraps his arms around you.

You snuggle against his chest.

“You’re still wearing it.” Jason hears you mumble.

“You told me not to take it off,” he chuckles.

“Hm, yeah,” you reply with a smile, falling back to sleep.

Jason holds you tight. He recalls the teasing he got from his siblings, but knowing the silly bandaid made you smile was worth it.

The next morning, he sees your phone light up with a notification on the counter while he cooks. He takes one peek, not really caring to see the alert, but the light catches his attention. Just as the screen fades to black, he sees the picture you took yesterday.

Jason taps on the screen and stares down at himself. He looks ridiculous wearing a confused expression with puffy cheeks and pouting lips.

“What is it?” you ask while coming up behind him. You snuggle into his side, tapping your phone to see what got his focus.

“You couldn’t have chosen a better picture of me?” he asks.

You laugh, clearing the YouTube notification to see the picture in all its glory.

“I love it,” you smile then look at him. “I love you.”

You lean in and steal what was meant to be a short kiss, but Jason’s hand holds you in place.

“Hm, Jay—” You try to pull away.

“What?” he mutters against your lips, holding you tighter.

You push his chest until you finally free yourself.

“The eggs.”

Jason glances at his pan and sees his once fluffy eggs are now dark and shriveled.

“Fuck,” he sighs and turns off the stove.

“Was that the last of them?” you ask while he tosses the burnt eggs in the trash.

He nods with a frown.

“No worries,” you say. Jason hears you move about the kitchen.

He leaves the pan in the sink, making a mental note to clean it later, before turning and leaning against the counter to look at you. You’re smiling and holding up two cereal boxes. There are bowls, spoons, and milk on the counter behind you.

“Which one?” you ask.

A wave of affection suddenly washes over Jason. Whether it be from the domestic morning, or your cute stance with your pretty smile, he’s not sure. He just knows he can’t hold it in.

“The one in the middle,” he says and takes one step to close the distance.

“What? I’m not ce—” you begin to argue, but Jason kisses you passionately as he lifts you onto the counter.

You try to set down the boxes, however, one manages to slip off the edge and fall to the floor.

Jason doesn’t care one bit and keeps you in place. His mouth moves against yours quickly, hands slipping beneath your shirt to rub your bare skin.

Your hands raise to cup his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. When one of them grazes the Hello Kitty bandaid, you smile and giggle against his mouth.

Jason can’t help but chuckle and pull you even closer, chests flushed with each other with your legs wrapped around him.

Maybe he’ll have to keep the Hello Kitty bandages after all.

A/N: If anyone wants to draw the pic reader took... PLEASE FEEL FREE TO AND TAG ME OMFG. the image in my head of it is TO DIE FOR CUTE. anyway, i'll shut up now. i just luv him ur honor *weeps*

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.