Description: Damian Wayne is suddenly being very affectionate, and the moment he drops and “I love you” you know he’s done something wrong. But what is it this time?
Words: 2349
Notes: I sorta had this idea… and sorry guys, I won’t be doing a part two XD
Taglist: @followeroonieclassic @instantangelstudent @puggleprincess @robincoalition @blue-streak-dolan
Have you ever entered your home, or a place that was familiar to you in an instinctual sense, and then felt like something was off? Like something miniscule was gone and made the picture incomplete, or everything had been moved a couple inches to the left, making things look normal but just… slightly different? Because that’s how it feels right now as you stand before Damian Wayne.
There is the rigidness of his form that you are accustomed to, but it is not caused by the tautness of his muscles and his overall stance. Damian seems anxious. He keeps rubbing his hands up and down his legs. His eyes flutter about the room, and he jumps when he hears you enter.
You drop your backpack on the cushion beside him, bending over the couch to wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind. When you press your lips and nose into his cheek you can feel his skin heat heavily. Making Damian Wayne blush was one of many of your favorite pastimes involving him, the others needing a more… private setting to occur. He tenses slightly at your touch, which you aren’t surprised by considering how he usually is with everyone. He doesn’t smell how he usually does though, but like a mock copy of his normal scent of metal and some kind of aftershave. Must be trying out new body washes.
You smile against his cheek, kissing the skin beneath his eye,”Happy Friday, Damian Wayne.”
Damian turned his head, watching your expression with a one coated in failed-to-hide surprise, but he swiftly concealed it more professionally. Damian murmured,”Happy Friday, Y/N.”
At not being called “beloved”, your stomach twisted oddly; you were alone and Damian had not seen you all day… did he not feel safe enough to call you by the nickname you had fallen in love with? It was customary. It was his own special kind of “welcome home”. At this thought, you unravel your arms from his shoulders and walk around the couch. Damian looks you up and down, either impressed with your appearance, in awe, or utterly terrified. You can’t really tell because he’s never shown so much emotion on his face at once. It’s overloading even you.
“I missed you today.” You confessed tenderly. His lips part and his brows raise when you plop down in his lap innocently, hooking your arms around his neck. It is a little unnerving, seeing him show even you so much of what he’s thinking on his face. Damian Wayne must not be feeling well, because when he looks at you he becomes a little dazed and distracted, and after you sat in his lap he looked more than pleasantly surprised. He fingers flutter unsurely, before settling on your waist and pulling you deeper into his lap.
“Is that so?” Damian questioned. He smirked, but the way he performed the action didn’t seem strictly him. Figuring he’s just going through something—nothing you couldn’t help—you glance down at his lips, placing a playful finger on his bottom one. You hummed a yes. Damian hummed back, distracted with… something, and probably you. He had told you how beautiful he thought you were, but he had never exactly acted it out as he was now, or stared at you with so much lust and wonder. Your heart raced at his newfound openness; you are thrilled.
Damian’s lips part, eyes never leaving your mouth. His gaze flicks upward and at your pupils, where you take in the emotional colors showing on Damian’s face. When you lean down and accept his lips in a kiss, he responds near too eagerly, hands jumping up your back and squeezing every part of you he can. The kiss is little awkward too. That might be what first got you thinking, as Damian is such a fluid and smoothly romantic kisser that, even when you shared your first kiss, he had always been an expert.
You giggle when he plants a kiss against your jaw, fingers gliding through his hair, down his neck and back up again. Damian smiled.”Go out with me.” He stated instead of asked. You don’t exactly complain when he starts to leave slow kisses on your neck and shoulder. You laughed,”We’re already dating, Damian.”
“I mean on a date.” He clarified politely. Politely. As in without the customary added,“obviously” or “idiot”. Damian’s palm flattened on your back.”Like we go out to eat or something.” Damian smirked again, this time more familiar. His tone turns sensual.”I want you all to myself.” He whispered.
“D-Damian!” You laughed when he kissed your chin. He’s never been so affectionate before. Before you can question what triggered it, he grabs your jackets from off the couch and urged you to stand. When you are faced with the entirety of his height, Damian opens your coat and helps you put it on, smoothly wrapping his arms around you when the fabric pulls around you. He kisses your neck once more,”You are so beautiful, my beloved.” He murmured.
“Thank you, Damian.” You blushed deeply. Where was this coming from? What had he done to warrant the need to make you extra happy? You tried not to frown.” But what’s gotten into you? Why are you being so… affectionate?” You asked, laughing awkwardly in your confusion.
Damian only shook his head, body suddenly tense. Regardless, he dismisses this and tilts your chin towards him, then smiles,”TT. It’s because I’m in love with you.”
He states the words like they are an everyday thing. You know for a fact that Damian Wayne has only said “I love you” to you twice. Once when he thought you were dying, and another time when he was heading into a suicide mission. Those had been private moments, where he was feeling and almost bleeding a need for the acceptance and love that you always gave him.
In desperate times, lonely nights, or moments of weakness you thought of the most recent time he had spoken those words to you. You can visualize the scene like one could visualize a loved one’s face; the engine of the Batwing fired up and humming behind you both, the coarse material of his gloves pressing into your palms, his cool lips molding against your knuckles before he pressed them against his heart. You can still hear him say it even after months since that night,”I love you, Y/N L/N. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
That’s the moment you begin to realize.
“…Did you really rent out the entire place on such short notice?” You questioned.
Damian nodded smugly, your shoes tapping in unison against the dining room’s floorboards. It’s elegant and probably about the size of a ballroom, filled with tables that waiters and waitresses scurry around silently as they prepare for an event later in the day. Two finish up preparing a table for the both of you and they disappear by the time you reach the table blanketed in sunlight. Damian pulls out your chair, positioned just in front of the large windows, and the boy kisses your temple as he passes in order to sit down in his own chair.
A waiter delivers you both menus, and by the time you choose your drink Damian has locked you into conversation, which you don’t contribute much to. Something is off. Something must be off, because he keeps flashing you crooked smiles, playing footsie beneath the table, smiling more, and even daring to stroke your hand while he listens to you speak. To make matters more mysterious, he keeps looking out the window as the sky darkens. You’ve started counting now. He’s glanced at the entrances at least five times in the last four minutes of your conversation.
“Is everything okay, Damian?” You asked. You set your fork down on your plate, the silverware clinking in the nearing-uncomfortable silence. His phone buzzes just as he’s about to answer. Damian stands from the table and removes his phone from his pocket, shifting his eyes about the gallery on the second floor of the room.
“Everythings fine, beloved. I just have to take this call—”
A shadow casts over the window, and you have just enough time to leap out of your chair and out of the way. Glass becomes painful rain and crashing is the only sound you can hear. The window shatters, the cutlery on the table flies, and the china you were eating on splits apart as boots crush them. Something metal rings as it is swung, and then you are meeting eyes with Damian Wayne.
For a split second your mind questioned how Damian had managed to change clothing so fast and “hey, since when does he look so beat up?”. That is, until you spot the other Damian Wayne, still dressed in a suit and holding his phone. His odd behavior all afternoon suddenly made sense; the affection, the “I love you”, the awe of your own appearance—you were an attractive girl, and technically it was the clone’s first time seeing you for himself. He was a clone or a shapeshifter of some kind. And you had kissed him.
Your Damian looks down at you; he’d probably been captured, or at least someone attempted to kidnap him and replace him with a look-alike. His lip is bleeding and he already has a couple bruises forming and puffing up his face. The sword in his grasp reflects the clone’s eyes, and Damian’s don’t stray from the enemy.
“Y/N?” Your Damian called.
You stole a steak knife from one of the tables, raising yourself into a defensive stance,”I’m fine.” You assure,”Y’know, except for the fact that you never told me you have an identical twin.”
Damian jumps off the table and lands solidly a few feet before the clone. You join his side as he said,”I didn’t know either.” He huffed.
The clone’s expression darkens once he understands he’s been caught. Your questions can wait until later, but it seems that the sickness rising up your throat doesn’t like that idea. You kissed a copy, let a clone touch you and even sway you to believe his identity. You knew something was off. Why hadn’t you noticed it?
“Who sent you? Why are you doing this?” Damian hissed.
The clone grits his teeth, suddenly dropping the surprised deer-in-headlights look. The action seems too right on Damian’s face. Damian’s copy drops the phone and crushes it under his heel,”That will be revealed in due time.”
You and your Damian exchanged a look. Damian turns his glare on his counterpart,”Wrong answer.”
Damian reels back his foot, swiveling into a sidekick that narrowly misses his clone’s cheekbone. The clone steps back and ducks all of Damian’s strikes. He even manages to avoid the knife you hurl at him, and the several following forks. Damian kicked the copy backward and into your dinner table, but the copy manages to get the upper hand and rolls over its surface, gripping the table’s edge and throwing it at the two of you with enough force to distract you. You spot the flurry of panic in his eyes, but the feeling is accompanied by a strong sense of high. Adrenaline high.
When you recover from the blow, pressing yourself to your feet only to find your Damian already standing, you are too late and too far away to reach the window in time. Damian’s clone smirks at the both of you, wiggling his fingers in a wave of goodbye,”See you later.”
”By the way,” His smirk transforms into a malicious grin that digs under your skin and roots there. He winks at Damian.”Your girlfriend is an amazing kisser.”
Damian releases a cry of anguish just as the clone leaps from the broken window. You both rush after him, looking through the shards of glass, down at the lower floors of the building, and the non-stop motion of the street below. The clone is nowhere in sight.
You both stand there, suspended in time and coming down from the rush of emotions and energy. Damian tightens his grip around his sword’s blade and breaks the silence,”You kissed him?” He hissed.
“I thought he was you.” You moaned in distress. Collapsing onto one of the tables and putting your face in your hands, you try to ignore the blatant disgust your body wants to display when you can still taste the clone’s kiss. It hadn’t been him. It hadn’t been your Damian at all. You hated how much you liked the new breeds of affection the clone gave you, his gift of those rarely-spoken three words, the sweet and tenderness you wanted Damian to show you more than anything.
Pushing aside your thoughts, you pull your hands from your face and try not to act as repulsed as you feel. You search your boyfriend’s visage for anything that could indicate an even more dangerous situation. It’s surprising to see the honest worry in his eyes, the jealous tenseness in his shoulders, and the obvious disregard for himself as he asks,”Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“Yes, Damian,” You laugh without humor. When he comes closer, you hesitate to put a hand on his arm.”Really, I’m fine,” You told him, despite feeling sick… Could that be considered cheating on him? Even if you didn’t know? You scan his face for something distinctly Damian, and half-heartedly joke to make everything better,”And how do I know you’re not a second clone to trick me again?” You asked him.
Damian wordlessly cups your chin with one hand and kisses you, firmly and more to prove a point than to express love or devotion. You tense with the sentiment regardless, stiffening in the same way Damian does when you kiss him out of nowhere as well. After he realizes you’re uncomfortable he retracts from you. The second he pulls away and finds his breath, he rolls his eyes,”That’s a stupid plan and I highly doubt anyone would do that.”
“Yep,” You smiled crookedly at him,”It’s definitely you.”
“Now, come on.” Damian scooped up his discarded grappling line and retrieved his mask from somewhere in his clothing,”We have a doppelganger to find, beloved.”
The Other One | Damian Wayne x Reader
Published
Toad's Cave 