|The D.C Collection | Imagines, One-Shots, Preferences, and More |

Back To The Future | Part iii | Damian Wayne x Reader

Description: The ease of their family and the lack of discourse and growling almost makes Bruce Wayne jealous. His son has managed to create a family that works and fights together, and he can already sense and see an incredibly strong bond between he and Cyra. The closest Bruce had ever gotten to one of his Robins was with Dick, and Dick lives miles away in Bludhaven and they rarely talk anymore. Even better—Damian has a wife, and one that loves him and is currently brushing her fingers through his hair.

Words: 3648

Notes: Hey I don't know why but I love this series please make Damian have a cute family i love him. Also, please call them the Damfam. Thank you and goodnight.

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"Thank you for your assistance," Damian breathed formally and awkwardly, adjusting his tie and sparring a few unfriendly glances at the girl as she stomped off snootily into the bustling crowd of gala-goers. He shivered uncomfortably—he could still feel and imagine the phantom touches of her hands on his arms. I hate it when people touch me, Damian thought irritatedly. You smiled and set your hand on his arm as you began to speak. Damian smiles, a true, forced but a Damian Wayne "I-don't-like-smiling-but-I'll-do-it-for-you" smile regardless, not even the "billionaire's son" smile either.

I hate it when most people touch me, He corrects himself.

"No problem. I figured that kind of stuff would happen with you, especially because you're such a pretty boy." You teased, scanning the area in the subconscious manner that your training had drilled into you. When your gaze returns to his face your eyes light up. Playfully mocking, you do that stupidly attractive thing where you put your hand on your waist and smirk at him,"Woah, Dams. You must be really happy to see me if you're smiling."

The smile evaporates from Damian's face. For a moment you believe it's your comment, but then his widened eyes cloud with seriousness. You follow his gaze across the ballroom. In the path his eyes create is two teenagers. Both unnerve you.

One is only slightly shorter than her taller counterpart, with slick, pixie-cropped locks of raven hair, skin the color of honey-dipped caramel, and beautifully sharp eyes. Their color is astounding, possibly the purest [E/C] you had ever seen, even purer than the same shade you see in the mirror every night. But their color is not what makes you uneasy, but the emotion held within them. This girl does not just act like she knows she can do everything, but knows she can, and you believe her. Her face is a face of contradictory and contrast; the soft curve of this girl's cheekbones creates a thin but harsh shadow beneath them, her visage heart-shaped. Hard heart-shaped. She is built like a lithe soldier, or possibly a spy hidden beneath that black dress.

Her companion is so similar in looks you know that they are blood-related. They both share similar skin-tones and sharpness, like two shadows of knives come to life—utterly gorgeous knives. His lanky but somehow muscular arm emerge to push up his half-framed glasses. These glasses cover another marvel. His eyes confuse you just as his sister's did, for they seem to be a dozen different colors in the light. When his head upturns they are spun gold and orange silk, when he faces the crowd they are brown, but then the moment he hides them behind his incredibly messy bangs they are green. You know by his body language he shares a similar mindset with his kin... but this time, he rules the chess board and conquers any machine. He smiles at you across the way. His eyes shine with something magical.

"Where is father?" Damian asks. You cannot seem to hear him.

They radiate something you understand better than anyone as a time-traveler. These children are not from this time. They were not born today or yesterday, but tomorrow. You find your signature shape-shifting butter knife slipping out from the depths of your own dress. You glance at Damian, but only briefly; you cannot lose sight of them."Damian, I think we might have some unwanted visitors." You told him.