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

Weak At The Knees | Damian Wayne x Reader

Description: Damian starts to overthink because Jon is such a hugger.

Words: 3175

Notes: Howdy all! I'm so sorry that I kinda went on a mini-hiatus there. I lost a bit of inspiration, but I did that thing again where I woke up at 3 AM with a writing idea and did the writing. I really really like how this one came out (it actually has a plot lmao) and the uses of descriptive language are 10/10!! Posting here is gonna be a little bit more butchered bc of the blog, but I will try my best to keep up.

_ 

The Watchtower wasn't often a place one could describe as hollow, but the space-station's air suddenly felt very absent, making Damian's heartbeat faster or his breathing pattern change. He dismisses the swell in his chest for a break in the oxygen-delivery system, but he knows better by now. Everyone else was fine. The air only felt thin and fake because Damian needed something else to blame for the deep breaths he was now taking. You, of course, were the real cause.

Though Damian had always felt that the Justice League's headquarters were too... active, the space gained a serenity the moment that you teleported onboard. While Earth was suspended over a bottomless abyss two minutes ago, you were now approaching Damian and it's suddenly floating peacefully among the stars on its route around the sun. Conversation wavered into something akin to the soft twittering of morning birds. Sunlight sunk into the metal walls and flooring like it would with a chocolate bar. Now that you were here, Damian could vividly imagine laying in the middle of a spring-seasoned clearing. It made him want to hit something.

He tries to block it all out. At once, the tranquil world forced itself upon him. He couldn't escape from the way he puffed up or preened, already falling under your spell like a bird during mating season. There is a brief moment where he regains control of his body language again, forcing his knees away from you and shrinking back into a brooding stance, only for your voice to unwind him.

"Robin," you said, tone collapsing in relief.

Is his head spinning? It feels like it. He's unsure if you say anything else, as the blood pounding in his ears with your attention makes it impossible to hear. Today's reactions are more severe only because of the distance that had hung between you lately. A night of your fingers scoping the dips in his back would leave him settled until the following morning, but he'd now gone a week without your touch and found himself jumping at the chance to receive it.

"Sparrow." Damian returned, short and cut as if he'd chopped off the end of the sentence with a knife.

You immediately took note of his taut stance; worry, no doubt, for the mission you were now waiting for. If you had just stayed the weekend at his house and were now saying goodbye, you would wrap your arms around his neck and kiss all over his stupidly pretty face. Come to think of it, you'd probably do that anyway—but right now he's far too stressed, and doing something so eagerly affectionate would embarrass him. (You personally wouldn't give two shits if Hawkgirl or Martian Manhunter saw you squishing Robin to death with hugs, but Damian would sink into a puddle of shame the moment you got home). At the very least, you can give a small touch that only he will notice.

"It's good to see you," you confessed, laying a hand on Damian's wrist and sweeping one of the spades with your thumb.

Damian's face heats, as uncontrollably fiery and sudden as a solar flare. A shock enamors every nerve near your fingers. It's silly to see just how much such a small touch affects him. A graze against his arm is distracted but sings with subconscious liking, like you're not thinking about wanting to touch him, but wanting to touch him enough in some part of your mind that you actually do it. Damian's suddenly caught in lazy memories, feeling the pads of your fingers trace lines along his skin and press to feel the bones underneath. It makes him dizzy.