Description: You’re no hero.
Requests: Okay I get Damian having a badass vigilante s/o BUT JUST IMAGINE Damian with a completely innocent civilian so who has a knack for running into trouble in the most inconvenient ways, they’re super clumsy but still fierce and sassy & Damian is just like?? how are you not dead yet??? Bonus if they ever get kidnapped and just start shit talking the kidnapper & dami is in the rafters like why???He literally has u at gunpoint?? I live for sassy civilian s/o and protective dami FiGhT mE
ok but imagine a picnic with damian or jon in smallville that ends up being a makeout session
Words: 4512 (i think you’ve come to expect this)
Notes: A different spin on stuff. I’m learning that it’s okay to be a damsel in distress sometimes, just as it’s okay to be the oppisite.
Taglist: @followeroonieclassic @instantangelstudent @puggleprincess @robincoalition @peteyparkerr @clearly-crystall @itstoastytodd @skymoonandstardust @littleaussiecupcake @geeksareunique @chromium7sky @perforabuntsaggittis @l-horizon11 @chiefqueenenthusiast @imaginepoc@warrioredqueened @robincoalition @lonewhitewolf488 @korindrs @poison-for-breakfast @redrobynhood @dammianwayne @milkywayheartcupcake @queenayles @ginger-queen-24
Everybody has childhood nicknames. Maybe something sweet like Benny as opposed to Benjamin. Or something odd like Dick instead of Richard. There were the kids with the bad intentions, like Ears because of how big someone’s ears were, or Gluey because somebody had too much fun during craft time in kindergarten—that was your crowd. Although yours wasn’t exactly a childhood nickname. It was a term of affection, but it did happen to call upon one of your many, many shortcomings; your clumsiness in particular.
Damian’s Lamborghini Murcielago was certainly what he had promised it would be. At 80 miles per hour it had been idling, and through the soft leather of the seats you could barely hear the 632 horsepower engine tearing down the outer streets of Gotham. Too quickly had the ride from Wayne Manor to Robinson Park ended, for the air conditioner had only just begun to warm in contrast to the fall-like weather when Damian parked. Gotham’s air was thicker than usual with whispers of a spring storm rolling in soon. He had wanted to get out before the drizzling began: he had a debt to pay.
“Damian, we could have always stayed home. I would count lying around in bed as a date, y’know.” You said, pressing a thumb into the unlocking mechanism of the seatbelt. It came apart with a soft click.
“I promised you a picnic, and I am determined to follow through. I am a man of my word,” Damian said, words bleeding with the full intention of fulfilling his promise. He looked lovely adorned in a favorite black turtleneck and gold-trimmed coat, layered in designer fabrics, but when had that ever been new? More importantly he looked comfortable. Frown lines had since left his face and put him into a state of something akin to serenity, or at the very least relaxed. The unbreakable knot of stress woven in his back had lost a few threads.
Normalcy | Damian Wayne x Reader
Published
Toad's Cave 