Batboys x Reader

Under The Influence (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Hiya everyone! Here's a happy little short one for you guys! This was requested by @ScarlettBarton and uses prompt number 7 (You're really cute and it's ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time.).

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(Y/N) Pov

Damian is half shadow, every muscle on his torso flows from the light into the dark. A deep wound is sliced in the flesh of Damian's left arm. It had once been heavily oozing blood but thankfully it had been stitched up. There's a bluish-purple bruise forming around it. He lightly presses his index finger against the centre of the cut for some stupid reason. I notice how Damian's face is more purple than any other colour. His nose had once been new shape entirely but had been reset.

"You look like shit," I smirk.

"Well, you look...pretty adorable." He retorts.

I run my hand through my hair and sigh as I quickly make an escape. I have no idea what Damian was given but he was clearly given too much. My usual (S/C) skin burns a deep shade of red as Damian's drug-induced words repeat in my mind. Why would he say that? I thought he only liked me as a friend. I mean, the only time your crush likes you back is in some movie or some make believe Wattpad book, it doesn't happen in my life. I enter the Batcave to be greeted by the sight of Dick and Jason in deep conversation.

"Why the hell do I have to watch a drugged up Damian while you two are here?!" I exclaim, attracting their attention.

"Did you have anything better to do?" Jason asks.

"Well, no," I mumble.

"Then stop complaining." He replies sassily.

"What's wrong?" Dick asks kindly.

"He called me adorable..." I reply.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait...Why are you angry about that, aren't you his girlfriend?" Jason interrupts.

"I...uh, well...er...I um," I stammer.

Blushing would have been no problem if we were in a pitch black room. But in the dim light of the cave, I know the red hot blush on my face is visible. I want the earth to open up and swallow me whole. I silently wish to 'do a Daphne' and drop through a scooby-doo style trap door in the floor. I turn on my heel and speed walk out of the cave, heading back to where Damian should be.

His bedroom is mostly blue with beautiful murals on the walls, hand painted by someone who knew what they were doing, most likely Damian. The colours are like nothing else, vibrant, strong. No washed out hues and insipid baby colours are used in the designs that decorate the walls. My eyes sweep across the room, in search for him but only find his dog which lay on his bed. I turn to exit the room but find it blocked by Damian. 

"If Father focused more on his company, job creation, better salaries, hiring more people and giving to charity, he'd probably do more good than as he does as Batman, tt." He says as he chews on his cookie.

He does make a good point. I laugh at the half of his cookie falls to the ground without him noticing. Titus jumps from the bed, exiting the room and leaving us alone. Damian yawns. Perhaps if he just sleeps I can go before he comes to his senses.

"You're really cute and it's ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time." He announces.

"Alright buddy, I think you need a nap." I sigh.

"Tt. You must stay with me then." He says.

"Just this once," I reply.

"You're really cute and it's ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time." He whispers.

 His eyes glisten in the dim light. I look down at my feet, afraid if I stare any longer, I'll ruin this moment. I sit on the edge of his bed with a sigh. Although Damian's eyes are soft, I notice the feelings behind them, as if he is longing for something. He touches his forehead to mine. My heart flutters for just a moment. I sigh softly and pull away before placing a kiss on his cheek. 

"I'll take a rain check," I softly reply.

I curl up on the bed beside Damian, my limbs becoming tangles in his. Damian doesn't seem to be satisfied until his head is on my arm and he has his hand entwined in my sweater. His fingers curl into the fabric, clasping it tightly. Every time I even twitch his fingers grip my sweater tighter. For the most part, he keeps his head buried in my sweater, his black tufty hair sticking out at odd angles. He moves his head, his blue eyes now looking at me.

"You don't look like everyone else's definition of pretty; you look like my definition of pretty. You have the look of adventure, of a spirit that can soar, and to me, that will always be more attractive than any colour or shape in the universe" Damian mumbles.

"Tell me that when you're sober..." I giggle.

The silence between us is somehow comforting and speaks for itself, it is peaceful in a way where you can feel comfortable. This type of silence is golden. I watch the corners of his mouth lift up into a smile, it looks like it hurts because of the cut on his bruised lip.

"I will Beloved." He promises.