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#Bruce just wanted to apologize
dcxdpdabbles · 16 days
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omg i love everything you write why you so gooddd
i wanted to know, if requests are open? i dont know how it all works, i rarely use tumblr ^^"
if yes, can we have another part of Why Ten?
Damian does not want to do this, but his father is giving him no choice in the matter. Apparently, the man thought he owed Daniel a proper apology for his behavior while under the effects of a concussion.
Why does that mean Damian was the one suffering? Ugh, he should turn back. Tell his Father he failed in the mission assigned to him and take whatever punishment it would earn him. Surely it would not be as nerve-wracking or as nauseating as standing here would be?
Damian is about to do that, turning towards the run-down porch steps when the front door swings open. Only his training stops him from stumbling in place like a fool.
A man in a purple shirt raises a brow at him. He is shockingly handsome in a near-offputting way. The part that ruins his beauty is his lack of emotional expression. Damian had seen plenty of ninjas who trained years to craft the perfect impassive mask, but even they showed some signs of humanity.
This man does not.
Damian scrambles to straighten his back and raise his chin, cursing his palms for becoming sweaty. It's a nervous tick he's never been able to control, and he really hopes the other can't tell.
After all, he is Daniel's aloof uncle. As much as he questions how involved he is in his friend's life, this man still means a lot to Daniel. Damian wants to make a good impression on him.
"Can I help you?" His voice belies his humble station, reminding Damian of the aristocrats of his upbringing.
"Is Daniel Fenton home?" Damian asks back, fighting to bite his tongue at what could have been disrespectful. He meant to ask if it was alright to see his friend, as he had come calling for him, but somehow, his panicked voice became more biting.
More like the aggressive Robin than the spoiled Wayne.
The man's face doesn't twitch, mouth firmly shut. Damian waits a few seconds before pushing more words out of his mouth. "Does Daniel Fenton live here?"
Nothing. Just a dead-set stare that seems to drag Damian's very soul out of his body. His heart rate picks up as he suddenly wishes he had brought his katana along. This is the worst mission he's ever been on.
Taking a few steps backward- not cowering! Damian Wayne does not cower- Damian stammers. "Does Daniel Fenton even live on this street?"
He is about to run for it when the man finally speaks. "Danny is in his room. You brought flowers. Why?"
Damian risks looking down at the bouquet Alfred recommended, clutched in a death grip. He had nearly forgotten about them.
Damian was unsure of the proper custom for inviting a friend for dinner as a formal apology for past behavior. His father had insisted that he be the one to request Daniel's presence as he was the one the other boy was friends with. Despite not being anywhere near prepared, he had thrown Damian out of the manor with the instructions to extend the invitation.
The young Robin quickly realized that he was severely underprepared and had chosen to seek wisdom from the sanest family member. The old butler assures him that the flowers are a class act, even if few youths participate in the effort.
The dozen red roses would make Daniel feel special and increase his chances of success.
None of which he could tell Mr. Clockwork about. So Damian settles for a helpless shrug which makes the man's other eyebrow raise. It's a bit unsettling how little emotion that action causes.
"Danny! Can you come down here?" The man doesn't raise his voice but somehow sharpens it. Damian finds himself standing at attention upon hearing it without real thought.
Was Mr. Clockwork in the military?
"What's up?" Daniel calls from further in the house. At the sound of his voice, butterflies appear in Damian's stomach. He fights not to fidget, especially with Mr. Clockwork staring him down like the grim reaper valuing a soul.
He used to think Father was intimating. Fool he.
"Dami?" His friend appears over Mr. Clockwork's shoulder. His hair is upkeep, his clothes are old and withered, and he not wearing shoes or socks.
In all cases, he does not look his best, yet still, Damian could find no fault in his appearance. Just like his uncle Daniel was unfairly, inhumanly attractive.
His heart launches in his chest when Daniel's face lights up, recognizing him a second after his confusion. "Dami! Hey, what's up?"
"I have a message for you," he hears himself say from far away, staring helplessly into his blue dazzling eyes. Mr. Clockwork narrows his eyes as Daniel tilts his head.
"Why didn't you text me then?"
"It would not be formal to request in a text. I wish to invite you to dinner." Damian blurts, watching with small horror as an emotion finally starts to build on Mr. Clockwork's face.
It's rage.
"Dinner?" Daniel repeats, his eyes flickering to the flowers in his hands. Damian, with a start, remembers he forgot to give them to him before asking. He thrusts them towards his friend, his heart actually starting to hurt from how fast it's racing. Is it hot all of a sudden?
One of the rouges must have done something to weather again.
Daniel is frozen in the doorway, staring at the outstretched flowers and Damian like he's grown a second head. This is all horrible, and he truly wishes he would die right this very second to spare him.
Father has forsaken me, Damian thinks in near hysteria It's the only explanation for forcing me to do this.
"Oh." Daniel finally breathes, taking the flowers as gently as he can. He presses his nose to them, taking a soft sniff that does not hide the tiny but bright smile growing on his face. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Dami."
Damian is fighting bile as the butterflies decide that right now is the perfect time to revolt in his stomach. He once climbed a mountain with a broken arm and no food or water, and yet, somehow, this was far more difficult. It takes three attempts to get the saliva down his throat before he can speak. "Splendid. This Friday, at seven. I shall have a car arranged to pick you up. Does that work for you?"
"It's a date," Daniel confirms, his eyes soft in a way Damian has never seen. It's a beautiful sight were it not for the utter death stare that Mr.Clockwork settles him with. Damian can't explain it, but he is sure he felt years fall off his lifeline.
"Wonderful. Good day. You too, sir." Damian doesn't fully run, but it feels like he does as Daniel waves him goodbye and Mr.Clockwork yanks him back inside, one last glare thrown his way.
It's not until hours later when he lies in his room after doing an insane amount of training to burn off the sudden energy, that Damian realizes he failed the mission anyway.
He forgot to inform Daniel that it was a family dinner hosted by his father, and the entire Clockwork/Fenton household was invited. He would have to go back tomorrow to correct himself.
He grabs a pillow to smother his scream.
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Bruce jerks in his seat. "Was that Damian screaming?"
"Let the poor lad be, Master Bruce," Aldred tells him without glancing up from his gardening magazine. "He is trying his best.
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fandom-drake · 14 days
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Jason in the manor for movie night: How'd you convince B to let me in anyways? I thought I wouldn't get an invite till I dropped the real bullets.
Dick busy trying to wrangle Damian away from Tim and Titus away from the snacks: B is really bad at facing the words he throws around ya know? So I told him since it's my fault you died I should be responsible for bringing you home- Tim don't!!!
Jason: B said what!?!?
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bonerot19 · 22 days
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"Jason was the angry Robin" this and "Dick was the golden child" that
is it not so much more painful, if Jason was a good, kind, caring, sweet kid? is it not so much worse, that he died horrifically while trying to do the right thing? isn't it terrible, that he came back but forever changed? angry and traumatized and in so much pain? unrecognizable?
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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year
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Ghost!Robin Part 7
All right! Here's part 7. I hope you enjoy. I don't think I really have any opening notes to go over this time, so I'll just leave it there. Check out the ask game I posted yesterday if you're interested.
This week you get a bit more than usual at 1.6k words.
First, Previous
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“What was that you meant about me being Jazz’s second dead boyfriend?”
Over his surprised laughter, he heard Jazz’s groan from across the hall. Yeah, he really did like Jason more than Johnny.
“One of my former rogues, Johnny 13, pretended to be human and started dating Jazz for a period. He was trying to mold her body into a vessel for his equally dead girlfriend Kitty. He had a similar bad-boy vibe to you but was actually awful. We might be cool now, but I’m still pissed he did that.”
Jason blinked at him before a slow grin took over his face. “So Jazz has a history of bad choices, does she? She always acts like she’s always had it together.”
“Oh definitely not. No child raised by our parents could have it always together.”
“Jazz refuses to talk about your parents, will you tell me what they did?”
Before Danny could answer, Jazz shouted his name. “Danny! If you’re done apologizing to Jason, start helping me explain!”
Danny rolled his eyes to Jason. “Later, I suppose. Duty calls! Come on, you’ve got to have a lot of questions, dead boyfriend number two, and yours will get priority answers.”
Jason’s surprised laugh made him grin despite the deepening glares of the other Waynes.
Surprisingly, it was Duke who blurted out a question in a high, freaked-out voice first. “Why do you have a crown?”
Danny, who’d turned and took all of one step in the direction of the dining hall, paused and turned back around. “How can you see that?” And then he realized the ground was still littered with broken glass and ceramics. “Never mind. Later. Let me clean up the broken glass and stuff first. Least I can do.”
Bruce’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder. “No. You will answer our questions now.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no. Look, the short of it is that I died when I was fourteen because I was stupid. It didn’t take and now I’m only half dead. I have a ghost form and a human form and all the standard ghost powers. The main ones being invisibility”—he turned invisible for a moment—“intangibility”—Bruce’s hand fell through his shoulder—“and gravity manipulation.” He raised in the air until he was floating a foot above the floor. “I also have some more unique powers, such as ice.” With a wave of his hand, ice grew around the shards of glass.
Alfred and Duke quickly backed away from the mess, but once every piece of broken china was encased, the ice stopped growing.
“So, if you’ll just tell me where I can dispose of the shards, I’ll be happy to do it. And this way no one has to be at risk of hurting themselves cleaning broken glass. Plus I got up all the fine powder, too. No little bits that can barely be seen but will fuck up your vacuum cleaner.”
“A handy skill,” said Alfred before anyone else could speak. “I will lead you to the bins.” To the rest of the group, he said, “Jason, would you and Duke collect the desserts from the kitchen and set up the dining room? As it appears we are all allies here, there is no reason to have this conversation standing in a hallway when we could have it sitting down with good food.”
“Alfred—” started Bruce.
Only to be cut off by the butler. “Master Bruce, I will be quite safe with the young man, I am sure of it. Jason’s… ghost has explained a few things already.” Only the slight pause before the word ghost betrayed that the man wasn’t entirely at ease.
Tim stepped forward. “Let me come with you both, Alfred?”
With a put upon sigh, the man agreed. “Very well, Master Tim, if you must. Mr. Danny, please follow me.”
“Yes, sir.” Danny followed obediently, the ice floating along behind him with barely a thought.
“You don’t need to make any sort of gesture to control the ice?” asked Tim.
Danny shook his head. “Nah. It’s my ice. It’ll do what I want it to. Most ghost powers are based on thought and emotion, honestly.” They took another turn. His castle didn’t even have this many hallways.
“So when you said the ghosts in Amity, you meant that literally.” Tim acted like it was a revelation.
“Of course I did. Shortly after my accident, ghosts started attacking on a regular basis. Took years for me to get things under control and by that point I’d already failed out of high school.”
“But if it was so hard… why didn’t you call the Justice League?”
Danny threw back his head and gave a hysterical laugh. “And then have to fight an overshadowed Superman? Or, worse yet, speedster? No. No thank you. Never. A representative of Justice League Dark stopped by about six or eight months after I got my powers and I told him to keep everyone out of my haunt. He gave me a phone number in case I came across something I couldn’t handle. But I kept being able to handle it, so I never used the number.”
“Overshadowed?” asked Alfred, “I do not believe we know that term. Ah, here we are.” He opened a door that led outside to a drive where a collection of garbage bins sat. “That container there”—he pointed—“is for glass recycling. Will the ice leave the bin filled with water?”
“Not at all. It’ll be completely gone.” Danny had the ice hover over the bin and made it disappear slowly enough that the shards were released without any falling outside the container. No water remained to show how he had transported them.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Danny. Now, overshadowing?” he asked as he held the door open for the boys to precede him inside.
“Oh, um. It’s like possession. Ghosts can take over a living being’s body. But when we do, we don’t have access to memories or knowledge or anything. And after the ghost leaves, the human just doesn’t remember anything from the time they were overshadowed.”
“And is this another of those basic ghost powers you have?” Tim’s voice was hard.
“Yes,” Danny answered simply. “It feels gross, though, and I’ve only done it a handful of times. Ever. First on my dad to get out of some school trouble, but I kept making things worse. After that on my friends and Jazz, with permission, so we could document limitations and if it hurt humans. Far as we could tell, it doesn’t.”
“You sound like a very conscientious young man. I have no doubt you use your powers responsibly.”
Danny laughed. “I screwed up more than a few times before I found ghost mentors. And ghosts are always a little chaotic, so some messing around is not only expected but encouraged.”
Alfred smiled. “I’m sure we will love hearing some of those stories as we get to know you and Ms. Jasmine better.”
“I can’t… I can’t tell you everything. There’s far too much and so much of it just doesn’t matter on Earth that it’d be pointless to go into.”
Danny saw Tim open his mouth to speak, but Alfred cut him off before he could. “I only want to know one thing: will Jason be all right?”
Danny smiled in relief. “Yes. That I can promise. I don’t know for sure how best to help him, but I’ve some ideas and I’ll consult with my doctors. They’re the leading experts in human-ghost biology.”
“Then I am glad you came tonight and were able to notice something was wrong. Thank you.”
With a shrug, Danny just said, “It’s literally my job. This is what I do.” Up ahead, he could see the doorway back to the dining room.
“If it’s your job, how much do we owe you?” asked Tim.
That question brought Danny up short. “Owe me? What are you talking about?”
“If you’re doing this for work,” said Tim as they entered the dining room, “Then you need to be paid somehow. If not by us, then how?”
“What are you lying about now, Danny?” asked Jazz, shaking her head at Tim’s question.
“Nothing! Tim asked why I’m planning on helping Jason and, besides the fact that he’s dating you and I’ll obviously help, I just said it’s literally my job. You heard his reaction to that!”
Bruce grunted. “Then I suppose you know where your explanations should begin. What is your job? A full explanation this time, please.”
“Right, yes, I can totally do that. I’m so great at explaining things.”
Jazz snickered at that statement and Danny poked her as he sat down next to her. Tim and Alfred took their seats as well.
“Now, Mr. Fenton.”
Danny winced at the name. “Don’t call me that. I’m not allowed that name anymore.”
“Danny, your job,” repeated Bruce, face expressionless.
“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”
Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
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Next
Looks like Danny found another excuse to delay the interrogation! (I honestly forgot about the broken glass before Duke spoke up and asked about the crown. But I did always plan to have Danny clean it up.)
Tag List: I'm getting posting errors, so I'll be splitting the tag list in two.
@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks
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vermillioncrown · 5 months
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snippet of tpac ch 11
who wants to see bruce being bullied? doesn't matter, here you go
...
“—per my last missive, Sir: if you want this equation to exist, then the principles of linear algebra must necessarily exist.” Korvin waves a thin stack of ruled paper—covered with sprawling formulas, symbols, bullet lists, and patchwork paragraphs on both sides—like he’s trying to banish a demon. That demon, in this instance, is “Batman being stubborn.”
Bruce looks taken aback, like something is happening outside of his set parameters. From how Dick tried to explain it: apparently, Bruce and Korvin have a whole “pen pals” routine going on, and it’s still thriving despite them sharing the same living quarters for the past few months?
Do they actually waste stamps on this? Where do they hide the envelopes?
(Dick raised his hands in surrender at that line of questioning.)
Tim knows Bruce is a creature of habit and standards of operation—of which he completely respects because it’s efficient—but his staunch adherence to routine is next-level neurotic. Normally, he'd be furious about being sidetracked.
Yet, Korvin’s thrown caution to the wind and got so mad over math, like the fussy nerd that he tries to hide being, that he’s directly confronting Bruce—full “David vs Goliath” vibes here. And he's winning.
“I trust your work,” Bruce finally says, holding his hand out for the papers.
That only makes Korvin’s face twitch harder. “Sure. Why not. Everyone needs a bit of make-believe. Escapism in these trying times and shitass economy.”
“‘Shitass economy,’” Cass murmurs, of course latching onto the bit that everyone reacts to.
Babs sighs in disgust.
...
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betterthanbatman1 · 6 months
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No <3
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yaoicoreren · 14 days
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we'll grow out of it, surely
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marielle-heller · 2 years
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Ash vs Evil Dead 3x07: Twist and Shout
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cephalog0d · 8 months
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Me: I'm not going to keep reading Gotham War as it releases, I'll just wait until it's over and just get angry once at the end instead of being angry every week.
Also me: *does not do that, keeps reading the garbage fire, keeps getting angry*
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magentagalaxies · 1 year
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since i've gained a lot of new kith followers since all this insane saga happened would any of y'all be interested in me making a post recapping how i first met paul bellini/scott thompson/bruce mcculloch? bc i've realized a lot of new people don't know the context when i casually mention getting an email from bruce etc and it's also a super funny story how i just kind of kept accidentally getting into behind the scenes kith-adjacent jobs through the power of adhd so i'd love to have the full story in one place
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starlooove · 3 months
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I will never care about besties tim and Damian or a good relationship between Damian and Bruce until everything tim and bruce did gets seen with the same weight and vitriol everything Damian did. Y’all dragged that shit for years on Damon’s part but now you think ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t understanding of you even tho I was right and you were evil but it was just bc u were brainwashed and refused help and I should’ve done more but that’s not my JOB that’s just the kindness of my heart so really the person who’s wrong is you but aren’t I so nice and understanding and emotionally mature for saying sorry?’ In every fic for Bruce and Tim is appropriate for them to move on 😭
#tim gets to be mad suspicious and lame for YEARS after the dinosaur#which I’m not saying isn’t valid#but damian just has to be like ‘yeah the hitlist was on me 😬’#and have tim apologizing equate to being hard on himself in that scenario?#btw in my ideal version of canon they don’t talk about these things ever and brush them under the rug and allow that resentment to fester#so even when they’re on good terms there’s still that underlying ‘fuck you’#bc in my ideal version of canon these sibling shenanigans are far and few in between bc a they don’t live together and b there’s always smt#going on and even if they desperately want to be close and a family they can’t. bc of the issues they allow to fester#BUT TALKING FANON AND FICssss#if they’re gonna be all buddy everyone’s gotta put work in#it can’t be ‘im sorry I didn’t idolize you in the right way father 💔 instead of propping ur white ass up for being murderous now I’ll do it#for being so nice and kind and…kind of like a savior. my white savior :)’#And bruce going ‘sorry I didn’t trust u. but not rlly.’ etc.#like whenever u hve tim or bruce feeling guilty it’s always with the underlying ‘aren’t they too nice/too understanding’#but Damián has to fall to his knees and do BLOOD OATHS (u racist ass fucks) to even be kind of deserving of kindness#it’s crazy bc as always this does reflect how y’all see black and brown ppl irl but I digress#anyways I’m not even against buddy buddy tim and Damián or tim and bruce#it’s just as always the way things get skewed in favor of white characters is always…always.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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cloudystevie · 2 months
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scary my god you're divine
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 3235
summary || he would do anything for you.
warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex
author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
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Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.
Sometimes literally.
Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.
Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.
You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 
The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.
Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.
“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 
Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.
He doesn’t.
“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 
The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.
Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.
In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 
“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.
You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 
Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.
On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 
“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 
He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 
The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 
His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.
You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.
You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 
“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 
You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 
“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 
Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.
If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.
Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”
Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 
“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.
He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 
His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 
A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 
A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 
“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”
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incorrectbatfam · 3 months
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I need unhinged gen alpha Damian with the fam
Dick: *spills his cereal*
Damian: Womp womp.
———————
Jason: *lights a cigarette*
Damian: You smell like you're being cremated.
Jason:
Jason: *puts it out*
———————
Damian: I'm done with my part of our mission report.
Tim: That was fast. Let me see.
Tim: *reads it*
Tim: Did you write it with an AI? Damian, I know you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself.
Damian: But Jon's Twitch stream is about to start.
Tim: I don't care, I'm telling Bruce.
Damian: Not if I do it first. FATHER, DRAKE WROTE HIS MISSION REPORT WITH AI!
———————
Duke: Remember Subway Surfers?
Damian: Remember when your bones were silent?
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Steph: *eating a burger*
Damian: All mammals are related to a common ancestor on the evolutionary tree so eating meat is basically cannibalism.
Steph: *takes out a paper bag*
Steph: *puts it over Damian's head*
Steph: *continues eating*
———————
Cass: I need cash.
Damian: Imagine using paper currency in 2024, couldn't be me.
———————
Barbara: I'm undergoing routine security checks. Can I get your computer?
Damian: *hands her his iPad*
Barbara: ...You don't have a PC?
Damian: What do I need that for?
———————
Kate: *enters*
Damian: Is it just me or did it suddenly get geriatric in here?
———————
Alfred: Master Damian, could you kindly enlighten me on what this "Skibidi Toilet" the children are talking about is?
Damian: *pulls up a slideshow with the full lore*
Damian: You may want to sit down.
———————
Selina: *doing her makeup*
Damian: What's your skincare routine? My friend Maya wants it.
Selina: Come back in eight years and I'll tell you.
———————
Gala guests: *milling around*
Damian: You must be my father's NPCs.
Bruce: I apologize about my son.
Bruce: *drags Damian away*
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in-som-niyah · 2 months
Text
Attentive!Jason who feels you toss and turn away from him in the night, signalling that something was wrong. He didn't know what, but upon feeling you curl into a ball, holding your stomach, it clicked.
Attentive!Jason who turns on his side to pull you back into his chest, hoping the warmth would soothe you enough to go back to a deeper sleep. Sighing sadly, he realizes that this time might be worse than he thought.
Attentive!Jason who kisses your hairline and slowly untangles himself from you in order to get up. He goes and puts the kettle on, fills a glass of water and brings your painkillers of choice, making a mental note of buying you more the next time he's out.
Attentive!Jason who sets the glass and painkillers on your nightstand, then slowly makes his way back into bed. Gently, he wakes you with kisses and firm strokes on your back, soothing some of the ache.
Attentive!Jason who, upon gently waking you, helps you to the bathroom to get cleaned up and take a hot shower.
Attentive!Jason who kisses your lips every time you try and apologize for ruining the sheets followed by a "no more tears querida, just let me take care of you"
Attentive!Jason that fills up your hot water bottle and a cup of herbal tea with extra honey just how you like it, and brings both items back to your room. He wraps the hot water bottle in a thin, fuzzy blanket, as to not burn you.
Attentive!Jason who puts your towel and clean pyjamas in the dryer for 5 minutes to warm them up for you before you get out of the shower.
Attentive!Jason who helps dress you when your shower is done, but leaving you to do what you need to privately. He just wants you safe and comfortable.
Attentive!Jason that guides you back to bed, not in a smothering and demeaning way, but just to make things easier on your aching joints.
Attentive!Jason that bundles you up snugly after you finish your tea, and reads to you to help you fall back asleep. The painkillers seem to be working, and he knows his voice soothes you.
Attentive!Jason that kisses your forehead and presses the hot water bottle to your sore abdomen once you begin to stir again, in effort to ease the tension.
Attentive!Jason who will, no matter what time it is, get up to get what you need. This boy is so madly in love with you, nothing you could ever need is too much for him. It doesn't matter if he just came back from a gruelling patrol, a fight with Bruce, or recovering from his own ailments. Jason Loverboy Todd is going to bring you tea at 4am. No complaints. No questions asked.
Attentive!Jason who secretly researches new ways to help you when you're hurting, always wanting to learn and improve.
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a/n: answered this ask that disappeared for some reason???? it was from some general attentive!jason hcs when reader was on their period/cramping but i genuinely have no idea where it went....
anyways time for bed its 2am
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ryssbelle · 3 months
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Had a silly dream where JD and Floyd came back to the troll tree before the last trollstice but after singing killed their grandma and decided to doodle and expand upon it a bit
Clay never left the tree but was too scared to return to the families pod since he didn’t want things to go back to how they were before, he did try to find his brothers during the escape but got separated by the cave in.
John Dory was the one to find Clay and see him get caught by the cave in, when he came out of the tunnel without Clay and holding his wristband they all just assumed he was dead. Even so JD still searches for Clay with the hope that he might’ve escaped and is alive out there.
They know Bruce is alive but after JD got the post card he assumed Bruce didn’t want to be found
Some more doodles that kind of show their dynamic
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Also-
JD always brings home souvenirs for the brothers both as an apology for being gone for so long and also because of this:
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