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

The Swan | Damian Wayne x Reader

Description: You're unsure if he's insulting or complimenting. Turns out, it's usually both.

Requests:

Sunshine Anon here! I was wondering if maybe you would write a Damian fic where S/O LIVES off of nicknames and especially adores Damian's Arab ones, but is only vaguely aware of the meaning, and then they get more context and realize they haven't been showing him enough verbal appreciation and start calling him REALLY over the top, stunningly romantic nicknames? (E.g. My sun, my soul). Very fluffy please. Love your work so much!!! 😍😍😍💖💖💖

May I request dami with a reader that's secretly hiding a wound they got earlier, but totally getting found out? Thank you for your time, and for writing all of these wonderful stories!!

Can I get a damian wayne x reader, where robin is trying to figure out a case that is impossible because there is another case that links to it but doesn't have enough info, the reader (his lover) finds love letters that have clues that help solve both cases (but she doesn't know) so one day damian finds them with her you can continue it here Please and thanks

I would like to request some fluffy post mission cuddles with Damian, please :)

hey can i request a damian x fem!reader where the reader is a vigilante and she gets injured and so damian takes care of her and talks to her in arabic? thanks!

Words: 2253

Notes: Hey! This is a big collection of requests, and sort of a warm-up for the fics to come up. I recommend you listen to the video afterward! =D

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"Hobbi," he says. Damian's voice echoes like the waters of a pond rippling, the liquid filling your ears and creating a barrier against your hearing. He sounds far away. He sounds stern and angry, but you've known him long enough to know the difference; he's worried. You don't know where you are, you don't know where he is, but the power of the emotion gives an easy visual. Damian's thoughts are a storm and his head is swimming, but he's calling you by that name again.

The bindings of sleep begin to come loose. You soon recognize the feel of your mind in your body, of your fingers wrapped around hard sheets, of how you've been asleep and you don't want to wake up. The word turns into a story in your mind and you're almost ready to succumb again. Then, Damian speaks again.

"You idiot," he spits, probably sitting beside the bed (bed?) you're sleeping in. It takes a moment to register that he's not speaking to you, but himself. The suggestion shuts you up immediately. There are railings on either side, and Damian's watch brushes against them when he speaks."Letting them risk themselves for your case. Fool."

He paused abruptly when you shifted, gaze shooting up and widening when he realized he'd been caught. The moss turned quickly to jade,"Stop pretending to sleep, L/N. I know you're awake."

"Barely," you groaned, rubbing your hands down your face."But... what happened last night? Why am I...?"

The morning sun pooled over your bed and cut across Damian's face, temporarily blinding you when you glanced in its direction. The movement showed you where you were; the in-home infirmary. All of the sounds you heard in your sleep settle onto your shoulders as the water pulls back. The washing machine from the next room rumbled dutifully, the clock on the wall chirped and ticked with each passing moment, and the morning birds were calling to each other loudly outside the open window. It had to have been at least six in the morning.

"The medication will make you struggle to remember things, but considering the size of the bullets Alfred pulled out of you, you're going to want to need it," Damian said smartly.