#damian wayne dc

[damisaybats]

on patrol

[vianawaits]

Melt into the Kiss

Summary: You decide to do a tik tok trend with your boyfriend. Unfortunately, you didn't realize how seriously he took your instructions.

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warning: fluff, cursing, established relationship, secret relationship, yearning, tik tok trend, batfam finding out

A/N: This is for this request by @dclover567 you are so sweet and this was so fun to write! This will be my last fic till after exams! I hope you enjoy my lovelies

•───────•°•[¯◉°]•°•───────•

“Damian come here.”

You watch as he pops his head out of the door frame from your shared bedroom. The use of his full name spurs him into an immediate reaction.

He was wearing grey sweatpants and a loose black long sleeve. You had about thirty minutes left with him before he leaves for the cave. Tonight, he had some training with Tim before they all went on patrol.

When he sees you trying, and failing miserably, to hide the smirk on your face, he raises an eyebrow.

“What are you up to my love?”

A hum comes from your lips, as you prop up your phone on the kitchen aid mixer. Noticing that the camera is open and facing in your direction, his arms stiffen at his sides.

This had not been the first time he had fallen victim to your shenanigans.

Realizing that he’s suddenly as stiff as a tree, a laugh escapes you. It’s a harmony to his ears when he’s blessed with the sound. The sight of your smile, causes a slight twitch of his lips. If you hadn’t been looking for it, you would’ve missed it.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything you ask beloved.” His answer was immediate, it always was when you asked him for something.

Damian would have burned the world to the ground if it meant you would smile at him like that every morning. There weren’t enough words in any language that could properly capture how he felt about you. It was more than love, more than devotion, it was something he was convinced only existed in the way you chose each other.

“Lift your arms in the air, straight up.” When he does, your palms rest on his bicep with a feather light touch. There’s a small amount of force in you pushing them together, so they’re parallel next to his head. “Okay perfect, make sure to keep them there.”

The eyebrow is back to being raised. The other one joins it’s partner when your arms wrap around his neck.

There’s a subtle flush dusting the beautiful tan skin of his face when you’re centimeters apart. There’s a subtle glint of mischief in his eye that he is too used to when your lips meet his.

He wasn’t sure what the test was, but he would retake it every night if it meant your lips never left his.

This was his favorite part of the day. When it was just the both of you in the intimacy of the night, sharing kisses stolen from his dreams.

He kept his arms in the air, a proper soldier following his orders. There was no wish he wanted to be granted more than for you to allow him to drop his arms. He yearned to hold you against him, the woman he dedicated himself too.

This was torture.

After a few more seconds, you slowly pull away. His swollen lips go to chase yours, for another kiss before he has to abandon you for some hours of the night.

When his eyes flutter open, he sees the small ounce of disappointment behind your eyes and his heart sinks.

Without hesitation, he goes against the only orders you gave him and his arms drop. The warmth of your lower back is more comforting than he’ll ever allow himself to admit out loud.

“What have I done qalbi?” His eyebrows furrow together.

At the term of endearment you shake your head with a small smile. His only response is to hold you tighter. It was common for you two to have conversations with little words, spoken in actions and longing glances. Damian had never been one for many words, but with you, he tried.

“It’s nothing.” When he pulls you tighter, you knew then that he wasn’t going to let it go. “It’s a stupid trend, basically you test your partner to see if they drop their arms and melt into the kiss.”

Understanding flashes across his face with a singular nod. His eyes catch the time on the oven clock and then glances back at you, in his arms.

“My love, I only kept my arms up because you instructed me too. Believe me, if I knew this was the test, I would’ve failed it immediately, or passed. I’m not sure which result is which.”

A laugh passes in between you. Something small and breathless, enough to make him debate on telling his father he cannot attend the patrol tonight.

“We have twenty seven minutes until I leave for patrol.”

A beat. Then,

“Okay…”

“What would you like me to do, to make it up to you?”

“Damian-”

“Please,” he rarely pleads. Even with you, he has never allowed himself to end up in a position where he has to beg for forgiveness or anything similar to it. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

“Well if you insist…” There’s a cheeky smile that appears on your face. “If you would like to cook up a quick dinner for your lovely amazing girlfriend who hates to cook, she would be very happy!”

And for the first time that evening, he laughs. Your hatred for cooking came in handy most days. Richard had told him once “happy wife, happy life.” While Todd advised him the way to anyone’s heart was through their stomach.

He took both of the recommendations to heart. They had worked so far for him, but he would never let them know that.

He drops a kiss to your forehead, holding you tighter. “Anything you desire.”

•───────•°•[¯◉°]•°•───────•

Damian had been in the cave for a little over forty five minutes. He had wrapped up his training and now they were waiting for him his father to join them in the cave.

Bruce had been on a date with Selina, but they should be back any moment now. Everyone was here for patrol and Selina was going to be joining them tonight.

“Wha….”

Stephanie’s voice echoes through the cave as she sits up in the chair she had been previously lounging in. Timothy, being as nosy as ever, looks over at her phone. His jaw drops and a sputtering noise comes out of him.

They now had the attention of all the occupiers in the cave, including even Alfred.

Tim and Stephanie look at each other, then his heat skips a beat as they both look to stare at him. Betraying no emotion, he merely moves his head the slightest bit, a motion to get them to explain their sudden hysteria.

“Damian, what the fuck is this?”

The use of foul language confuses him. He hadn’t done anything particularly out of the ordinary recently. Stepping closer to the odd pair he bends down to look closer at Stephanie’s phone.

Ah.

It was the video from the trend you had asked him to participate in earlier. When you asked him if it would be okay to post, he assured you that he wouldn’t mind.

He did however not factor in the possibility of his family finding out. A rather stupid thing to forget.

“From what I am told.” His throat bobs while he swallows, attempting to keep his cool. “That is a Tik Tok Trend.”

“Well no shit.” Timothy remarks. “Who’s she?”

At that, Damian cannot do much to hide the way his face could pass for a rose bush.

Richard, seeing the reaction, throws his arm around Damian’s shoulder with a wicked grin. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say our little Dami has a girlfriend.”

Todd snorts. “We gotta take the girl to Arkham and run a test on her. She’s gotta be messed up to go out with Demon spawn.”

“You will do no such thing.” Damian’s head snaps in the Frankenstein wannabe’s direction. “If I found out you even lay a hand on her, I will personally-”

“What’s going on?” Father steps off the elevator with Selina on his arm. Both of their eyebrows are about to fly off their face when they take in the scene.

“Damian’s got a girlfriend.” Cassandra says from her new place behind Stephanie.

“Oh, that sweet girl that works at the record store off Broadway and Seventeenth?” Selina asks with a faux innocent tone.

Damian’s eyes narrow in their direction. It was foolish of him to think that his father and Selina were not aware. He did however not enjoy that they had spied on her without his permission.

“Yes,” he swallows. “Her.”

Father nods with a small twitch of his lip. “She’s a nice girl, you should invite her to dinner.”

“I…” Damian pauses. “I will consider it.”

Father accepts the answer and directs Selina to the changing room. While they both change into the suit, Pennyworth approaches the young master Wayne and asks in a low voice,

“I assume, I should not mention that I have already met the young miss?”

•───────•°•[¯◉°]•°•───────•

A/N: Yes this is me projecting my hatred for cooking. Also say thank you to my bsf who sent me a video so I could write this bc I don’t have tik tok LOL (I was going to include duke in this no i didn't forget about him but i wasn't sure if it'd fit bc he patrols through the day im sorry )

taglist All: @gglouise23 @demigod-jack-hearth @batslilwhore @t1mbits @princessak @slut4hotppl @bat1nsignia @starr-jazz @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @mystiquevoid Damian Wayne: @angelicwing @clownstheyreeverywhere @gusseppi @valinat

[fromrory]

𐔌 ⋮ “He gives you things, doesn’t he?”

– or, the language of devotion from a boy who was raised to conquer, not to love ✶—Masterlist

It starts with the ring.

An emerald, cut sharp like a blade, set into gold with ancient Arabic filigree etched so fine it’s barely visible unless the light catches it. She finds it on her nightstand one morning—wrapped in black silk, warm as if it had been held in a palm all night.

The note is in his handwriting. Neat. Small. Precise.

“For your hand, which should always be protected.

She wears it. Of course she wears it.

She doesn’t expect the next gift—two weeks later, an anklet. golden, thin and elegant, a tiny د (the Arabic letter dāl) dangling from the chain. Damian doesn’t say anything when she finds it.

He just kneels down during a quiet hour in the Manor and clasps it around her ankle himself. His hands are steady. His touch reverent.

“I want them to know,” he says simply, eyes flicking up to hers. “Wherever you walk, you’re mine.”

She forgets how to breathe.

“Okay, but like,” Steph says later, eyes wide, “that’s not just romantic. That’s spiritual warfare.”

Jason whistles low. “Man’s out here forging rings like it’s Lord of the Rings, but hot.”

Dick smirks. “I told you. He’s an intense little poet when it comes to her.”

There are other gifts. A hair comb, made of dark wood and inlaid with jade. A carved pendant with lines from a pre-Islamic Arabic love poem, words so old they taste like desert wind and firelight.

He gives her a dagger once.

Not large. Not flashy.

But beautiful.

Etched down the spine, in Arabic script so fine it’s almost hidden, it reads:

“Whoever touches what is mine will bleed.”

She isn’t scared. Not of him.

She understands what it means—what he’s never been able to say without wrapping it in old language and older steel:

That he was raised by people who saw love as weakness. That he is fighting to unlearn that. That when he gives, it isn’t casual. It’s sacred.

They sit alone on the rooftop again.

Gotham sprawls below. The stars are faint. She’s wearing the anklet. The ring. A new necklace now—another gift, this one with a pressed green stone the color of his eyes, suspended above her collarbone like a vow.

“You’re mine,” he says softly, fingers brushing the pendant.

“Mm,” she murmurs. “Yours, huh?”

“I don’t mean that lightly,” he says. “I mean it the way temples mean prayer. The way altars mean blood.”

She smiles. “I know.”

“I would kill for you.”

“You have,” she says.

“I would die for you.”

Her hand finds his. “You don’t have to.”

Damian looks at her for a long moment. The kind of look that feels like burning incense and ancient gods and poetry that doesn’t rhyme.

Then he says, voice barely above a whisper:

“You are not mine like a thing to be owned. You are mine like breath is to lungs. Like fire is to a blade.”

She closes her eyes, heart thudding. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours too,” he says.

Tim finds the dagger a week later.

Jason reads the inscription and whistles. “This boy’s out here writing Arabic death vows.”

“Poetic menace,” Steph mutters. “I love that for her.”

Dick just grins, arms folded. “Told you. He doesn’t love. He consecrates.”

And maybe that’s what it is.

Not love like hearts and flowers and Hallmark cards.

But love like carved emeralds and sacred steel. Love like an altar. Like devotion. Like the whole world could burn—and he’d still reach through the smoke to clasp her wrist and whisper:

“rūḥī…”

i don't really what how i feel about this one .Taglist🏷️: @simpingmyassoff , @shootingstargirl2001 (if you want to be added,comment down below!)

[pomegranatelifethis]

The Waxing Incident

1 episode(You are here) - 2 episode

You'd faced down assassins, defused bombs, and survived family dinners with the entire Bat-family. But nothing—*nothing*—could have prepared you for this moment.

"Absolutely not."

"Damian, please—"

"I said *no*."

You stood in the doorway of the manor's bathroom, holding a wax warming kit like it was a weapon of mass destruction. Which, given Damian's expression, it might as well have been.

"It's just your back!" you protested, trying not to laugh at the sheer horror on your boyfriend's face. "You said you had that mission next week where you need to go undercover at the beach, and you complained about—"

"I did not *complain*." Damian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I merely stated an observation."

"You literally said, and I quote, 'this excessive body hair is tactically disadvantageous.'"

"That was a private conversation."

"Babe, you said it in front of Alfred."

A strategic mistake. Damian's jaw clenched. You both knew that Alfred had immediately sided with you, commenting that "Master Damian would benefit from proper grooming" in that dry, unflappable way of his.

That's how you'd ended up here, with Damian shirtless and scowling, perched on the edge of the bathtub like a particularly angry gargoyle.

"If you tell *anyone* about this—"

"I won't!" You crossed your heart. "I promise. Now just... sit still."

You'd watched exactly one YouTube tutorial. How hard could it be?

The wax had reached the perfect temperature—you'd tested it on your wrist and everything. You applied the first strip to Damian's shoulder blade with what you thought was professional efficiency.

"This is undignified," he muttered.

"You literally wore a traffic light costume for years."

"That was a *tactical uniform*—"

You ripped.

The sound that came out of Damian Wayne's mouth could only be described as a squeak. A high-pitched, utterly un-Robin-like *squeak*.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF—"

"Shh! Do you want the whole manor to hear?"

Too late.

"MASTER DAMIAN?" Alfred's voice drifted up from downstairs, concerned. "Is everything quite alright?"

"FINE!" Damian shouted back, his voice cracking slightly. He whipped around to glare at you, his eyes promising retribution. "You said it wouldn't hurt!"

"I said it would hurt *less* than laser removal!"

"That is NOT—" He stopped mid-rant as you held up the strip, now covered in dark hair. His eyes widened. "Is that... is that all *mine*?"

"Yep! Look how smooth!" You ran your finger over the newly bare patch of skin. "Like a baby's bottom."

"I will end you."

But he turned back around.

You got through three more strips before Tim walked past the bathroom, did a double-take, and immediately pulled out his phone.

"Don't you *dare*," Damian snarled.

"I'm not doing anything," Tim said innocently, definitely taking a video. "Just admiring the... bonding experience."

"Drake, I swear on Father's cowl—"

"You know what? I think I hear Dick calling me. From the other side of the city. Bye!" Tim disappeared in a blur of laughter.

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. "Okay, this next part might be a little more sensitive—"

"They're all sensitive!"

"—because it's closer to your spine."

Damian took a deep breath, his shoulders rigid with tension. "Fine. Just... make it quick."

You applied the strip. Counted to three. And pulled.

This time, Damian shot straight up off the bathtub, whirled around, and you found yourself suddenly pressed against the wall, his hands on either side of your head. His face was flushed, whether from pain or embarrassment, you couldn't tell.

"You," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "are *enjoying* this."

You couldn't help it. You grinned. "Maybe a little."

His eyes narrowed, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Tt. You're lucky I love you."

Your heart did a little flip. He didn't say it often.

"Lucky enough for you to let me finish?"

Damian stared at you for a long moment, then sighed with the weight of a thousand tactical disadvantages. "Fine. But if Todd finds out about this—"

"He won't!"

He did.

(Jason somehow acquired the security footage and played it at the next family dinner. Damian didn't speak to you for three hours, but forgave you when you offered to train him in creative revenge techniques.The revenge, of course, involved waxing Jason's chest while he slept.It was beautiful.)

[mayhemiiii]

thinking about.. damian wayne with an anxious reader.

you began picking on the skin of your thumbs, without even realizing it. the anxiety creeping up in your body, making you skin to your stomach.

"beloved?"

damians voice called out, his voice tired and groggy with sleep. you look up, snapped out of your anxiety induced trance. seeing him standing at the bottom of the stairs, still wearing his pajamas. his black hair, messy and wild from sleep.

"yeah dami?"

he yawns, walking towards you. eyes flickering towards the tv, than back too you.

"what are you doing beloved.. its 2 in the morning..?"

"just.. watching tv, I couldn't sleep."

damian didnt speak, he just sat next to you on the couch. damian looked down at your hands, which were down in your lap, he sighs. seeing that you have picked your thumbs too the point they are bleeding.

"beloved. I really wish you would stop doing that."

he spoke, his tone soft. taking your hand in his, rubbing over your thumb.

[violetsnowdropp]

Boyfriend!Damian who when he first meets your dad, he’s worried he’s the “run him off the porch with a shotgun” overprotective type, but he’s the complete opposite. Your dad had to be the most chillest, most genuinely nonchalant dude he’s ever met. Funny, too.

Boyfriend!Damian who’s actually quite shy around your family at first, who your mom has to get him talking, and takes him time to realise that the nicknames your dad gives him aren’t teasing or because he dislikes him.

Boyfriend!Damian goes to play pool with you and your dad, and it becomes a hobby of theirs. They end up going to play at the same sports bar every Friday, and every pub or dive bar you go to with a pool or snooker table, Damian’s putting money in.

Boyfriend!Damian eventually asks your dad for his blessing, which he laughs at at first because it seems so old fashioned, and no one’s daughters boyfriend seems to do that anymore, but of course he gives it. Why wouldn’t he? Anything to see his daughter so happy

Boyfriend!Damian who asks your dad to help with ring shopping, sending him and your mother photos of references and colours - he would get a matching colour with you whether it was gold, silver, white gold, platinum, he didn’t care. It was all about you.

Fiancé!Damian who watches and helps your dad fix odd things around the house — something Bruce or Alfred never really showed him — and learns how to do the same things, those same skills that normal people can do. And now as you and Damian buy your first house, you’re doing DIY wallpaper, painting the rooms yourself, fitting panelling, fixing the light switches and waving off your worries just moments before he shocks himself.

Fiancé!Damian who feels a bit awkward standing between his own dad and your dad, only because he knows he’ll have more fun talking to your dad. He feels really guilty for that, but that’s just how he saw things: your dad liked him for who he actually was, and never really doubted him.

Fiancé!Damian who loves his own dad, obviously, but he’s closer with yours. His dad offered him many things: knowledge of good and bad, morals and perspective, money, status, he gave him shelter and love when Talia sent him to live with Bruce. But through his tween and teenage years, the years that mattered most since Damian was coming to a new world of galas and cameras, the complete opposite of what Ra’s taught him. Bruce didn’t like him, not as a person. Which hurt. A lot. Somehow that was worse, more painful because Damian never tried to be anyone else but himself. Because he was trying to be ‘normal’, trying to be what Bruce wanted so Bruce would like him; a carbon copy of himself, a son to take his name as Batman when he gets too old and ruined. That wasn’t Damian anymore — he didn’t want vigilantism anymore. Damian was a good man, and a brilliant Doctor.

[tarta-de-limon]

He’s gonna keep it, he’s gonna name it and NO ONE WILL STOP HIM 😾😾😾

That’s a weird looking dog…

[gothamwing]

WILDEST DREAMS - 

DAMIAN WAYNE

PAIRING Damian Wayne x League of Assassins! Fem.Reader (Both adults) SYNOPSIS Before going to Gotham when he was twelve, Damian promised you that he would see you again, that he would, forever, keep you in his mind and always remember you. As a proof of his promise, he gave you a special compass as a last gift, telling you that he had the twin compass of that one, so you two would always know where each other is. It passed ten years and you started to think that he probably forgot you, wishing that at least he remembered you in his dreams... or you thought, right before the magnetic needle started to move. WARNINGS Childhood sweethearts, a kiss in the end. DIVIDER by @uzmacchiato A/N: I am not an expert in physics so please just let me romanticize the idea of the compass. This was a request from my special 500 followers!(From last year, I know I AM SO SORRY)

A/N 2: I deleted the request by mistake but this was a request from @fromrory 😭❤️❤️❤️

“You really have to go?” Your voice came quietly from your lips, as you could make him change his mind. “Dami, I…”

“My mother thinks it is the best for me.” His emerald eyes find yours in the dark. “I have no other choice.”

You two were in the training ground, past midnight already and just a few soldiers next to you, assassins trained to kill and have no mercy. This was your life. Waking up every day, training, talking to Damian, practicing more and then observing the stars till is time for both of you to go to bed.

And now, he was going away.

“Will I ever see you again?”

For a brief moment, his sharpened eyes became soft. He rarely does that expression, almost never actually.

Softness wasn’t something his mother taught him, but in all his life of swords, blood and death, you were his only solace.

“I hope so.” His hands flew to his pockets, taking out two golden compasses, handing you one of them. 

When you looked at the needle, with both the objects close to each other, the needles were spinning like crazy. “They are connected.” He said, wearing the thin chain of the compass like a necklace. “I promise I will be back one day, just promise you will wait for me.” 

Your cheeks were warm, but you nodded, doing the same with your compass. “I will.”

And as a goodbye, he smiled. “Thank you… Hayati.” He whispered, and the nickname didn’t pass unnoticed by you, but you just looked away.

You were too young, and he was going to another place tomorrow, too far away.

As the years passed, you were an adult now, and you knew that Damian was as well. The needle never moved again since he went to Gotham, and it showed no will to move.

Your training became harder, but the comfort of that old compass was the only thing keeping you together.

“Do you still have that?” You looked at Hassan, an assassin that, after Damian went to Gotham, started to train with you. “You know that he probably forgot you by now, right? It’s been ten years.”

You were in the training ground, it was almost sunset, Hassan was training while you were observing him, or well, you were looking at the compass and ignoring Hassan before he called you.

“If you can talk, you can run twenty laps, right?” He rolled his eyes, but didn’t complain when started to do as you said. You were responsible for his training, and you were ready to put the compass in your pocket when suddenly…

“What the…” You murmur, seeing the needle spinning fast.

No way… Is he…

“Hassan, finish your laps and then you are free to rest!” You didn’t even give him the chance to answer when you started running to the gates.

“No way…” You ran the fastest you could, hoping to see him, hoping that this wasn’t just a bad joke, but when you finally reached the gates…

“Welcome back, my son.” You saw Talia greeting a tall man, his body was perfectly sculpted under the dark clothes, his short hair the same as always, but something in his expression were different, were calmer.

“Will you stay until tomorrow?” The woman smiled, her hands fixing his hair as he answered.

“Yes, I just came back to get something.”

And then…

His eyes met yours.

And just like that, the time stopped, as if just you two were there.

The sunset light touched his body like a painting, the most beautiful vision you ever saw.

“Dami…” You murmured, trembling hands squeezing the compass like a lifeline.

But he didn’t give you the time to think of something to say.

In some steps, he reached you. Strong arms holding you by the waist and his face found the curve of your neck.

Your arms hugged him by his shoulders, with one hand crawling to his hair.

“I missed you.” You murmured against his cheek, feeling the softness and warmth of his skin. 

He stepped back enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his smile more natural and even his appearance was healthier.

“I yearned for you.” His words came out like a prayer. “Three thousand, six hundred fifty-two days.”

You couldn't hide your surprise, eyes widened as he confessed his feelings just for you to listen. 

“Why did you come back?”

“You.” He said, cupping your face. “Come to Gotham with me.”

“Me?” You murmured. “Why, I am just…”

“Please.”

Please? Damian was really… pleading?

What happened in the last ten years?

“Is it another one of my dreams?” You closed your eyes, waiting for your alarm to ring or something to say that it was all a dream.

But soft lips touch yours kindly and you melt with the touch, kissing him back. 

When you open your eyes again, Damian is looking at you with a small grin, then his lips peck your forehead.

“I promise you, this is not a dream.” His breath is warm against your skin and the contact made you shiver. “It’s real, Hayati.”

And for the first time in ten years, you let yourself lean the head on his shoulder, resting in the comfort of his arms.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Do NOT repost, copy, translate or use my texts on AI!

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