quillsareswords:

Paws

Damian Wayne (Fluff)

Requested (@jasnxtoddsideblog )

Because you are listed as my “number one fan”, I wanted to get this to you as fast as I could to show my appreciation. If you don’t like it, let me know, and I’ll try again. And I’ll have you know that I do recognize your picture and name when it comes up on my likes. Thank you for being my first non-anon request and a wonderful supporter!

   Damian crossed his arms, blue-green eyes boring through your [E/C] ones. “Truthfully, [Y/N], I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

   You mirrored his stance, but cocked your hip to show just how annoyed you were. Despite your efforts, the gleam in your eyes told a different story. “Damian Wayne, I have known you for too long. You’ve lost the ability to lie to me.” Your raised an eyebrow, inclining your head towards his bedroom door, which he guarded as if it were hiding mounds of gold. “Open it up, or tell me what you’ve got in there.”

   With a second’s debate, and a heavy sigh, he grabbed you by the hand and shoved the door open. You were prepared to find just about anything, from the world’s most beautiful painting, to the world’s deadliest creature. He pulled you in behind him, making sure to shut the door behind you both.

   “Is that … Where did you get a pit bull puppy?” You were truly astonished. The little white wriggly ball of fur and loos skin bound over to you, viciously attacking your shoelaces. You shifted your foot to give him more of a challenge, which earned a muffled grumble.

   “Father and I broke up a dog fighting ring. He was the only white one of his litter.” He stood at your side, hands on his hips, watching the tiny animal pounce to your other shoe. “You had mentioned wanting a dog to keep a watch over your house, so …”

   Your smile immediately vanished, your head snapping up to face him. “You don’t mean that.”

   “When have you ever known me to say something I don’t mean?” The mischievous smile crawling across his face was almost enough to make you slap him.

   You deadpanned, temporarily ignoring the ankle-bitter gnawing on the toe of your shoe. “When we first met you told me-”

   “I said a lot f things back then.”

   “That time at the park when you-”

   “I was joking.”

   “Then, on our first date-”

    “Well-”

   “And that other time on the bus-”

   “Alright, alright, you win,” he groaned, crouching down to scoop up the little beast. “But I am serious this time.” He held it out to you. “Will you accept my gift, beloved?”

   You beamed, snatching the little thing from his hands, “Yes!” You cradled it to your chest, scratching its back. Damian reached over to rub its head.