Damian Wayne—Do Robins Really Eat Spiders?~

The heavy Gotham downpour was identical to the night you two first met. Cold, miserable, and thick with the smell of wet asphalt.

What felt like an eternity ago, Damian Wayne had tracked your silk lines through the shadowy backstreets of Old Gotham — Todd's territory. Back then, he was just Robin: an overly serious, aggressive kid with a Katana, scowling at you from the shadows and demanding to know what right an unregistered 'spider-guy' had to jump across his roofs.

It had taken ages to break the ice. First came the chaotic co-patrols, where you'd trade snarky jabs over who stole whose arrest. Then came the Batfamily — who, naturally, figured out your mutual crushes long before either of you admitted it. Dick immediately acted like an ecstatic big brother, winking whenever you left the Cave together; Jason took bets on who would confess first; Tim just smirked from behind a mug of black coffee every time Damian got flustered; Steph constantly dropped loud, unhelpful hints; Cass gave you a subtle, knowing nod that meant she saw right through both of you; Duke offered to cover your patrol shifts just to give you two 'alone time'; Barbara hid her laughter over the comms; Bruce silently observed it all with rare, approving quietness; and Alfred always prepared a second cup of tea with a subtle smile, remarking how Master Damian was remarkably less disagreeable on the days you visited.

Somewhere between getting patched up in the Cave and beating each other up on the sparring mats, the hostility turned into something else. Damian was actually the one who broke the tension — after a brutal night fighting Firefly, he’d grabbed you by your collar in the middle of an argument, pulled you down to his height, and kissed you so hard your teeth almost clacked together.

Now, six months into a real relationship, the Gotham rain didn't feel half as bad.

Standing beneath the shelter of a rusted billboard high above the streets, Damian was leaning against the metal framing, his domino mask pulled up slightly so he could breathe. He wiped a streak of rain off his cheek with the back of his glove, looking at you with a mix of exhaustion and that familiar, sharp smirk.

"You know..." Damian started, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice dry and casual, "I was just thinking about the absolute mess of a tactic you used the first night I found you in Old Gotham. You almost slipped off that ledge."

He pushed off the beam and stepped right into your space, sliding his warm hands under your jacket to rest on your waist, using his heat to warm you up. He looked up into your eyes, his green eyes flashing with genuine mischief.

"I pulled a sword on you back then and told you that Robins eat spiders. I meant it as an insult," he hummed, his thumbs stroking the sides of your hips. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours with a light, warm laugh.

"Times have changed," Damian whispered, his lips brushing against yours before pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. When he broke it, his gaze was dark, focused, and completely undivided. "Patrol's done. Let's go home — I'm done sharing your attention with this city for tonight."

The heavy Gotham downpour was identical to the night you two first met. Cold, miserable, and thick with the smell of wet asphalt.

What felt like an eternity ago, Damian Wayne had tracked your silk lines through the shadowy backstreets of Old Gotham — Todd's territory. Back then, he was just Robin: an overly serious, aggressive kid with a Katana, scowling at you from the shadows and demanding to know what right an unregistered 'spider-girl' had to jump across his roofs.

It had taken ages to break the ice. First came the chaotic co-patrols, where you'd trade snarky jabs over who stole whose arrest. Then came the Batfamily — who, naturally, figured out your mutual crushes long before either of you had the courage to say it out loud. Dick immediately treated you like a little sister, teasing Damian about his 'spider-girlfriend' until Damian went red; Jason set up a betting pool on who would crack first; Tim just smirked behind his coffee whenever Damian stumbled over his words around you; Steph became your instant hype-woman, dragging you off to talk about him; Cass gave you that silent, gentle smile that proved she saw right through your nervous body language; Duke purposely stayed out of your assigned sectors to give you two space; Barbara snickered quietly over the comms; Bruce just silently approved of your combat integration; and Alfred always had an extra plate of warm cucumber sandwiches waiting, dryly observing how much calmer the Manor felt whenever you were around Master Damian.

Somewhere between getting patched up in the Cave and beating each other up on the sparring mats, the hostility turned into something else. Damian was actually the one who broke the tension — after a brutal night fighting Firefly, he’d grabbed you by your collar in the middle of an argument, pulled you down to his height, and kissed you so hard your teeth almost clacked together.

Now, six months into a real relationship, the Gotham rain didn't feel half as bad.

Standing beneath the shelter of a rusted billboard high above the streets, Damian was leaning against the metal framing, his domino mask pulled up slightly so he could breathe. He wiped a streak of rain off his cheek with the back of his glove, looking at you with a mix of exhaustion and that familiar, sharp smirk.

"You know..." Damian started, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice dry and casual, "I was just thinking about the absolute mess of a tactic you used the first night I found you in Old Gotham. You almost slipped off that ledge."

He pushed off the beam and stepped right into your space, sliding his warm hands under your jacket to rest on your waist, using his heat to warm you up. He looked up into your eyes, his green eyes flashing with genuine mischief.

"I pulled a sword on you back then and told you that Robins eat spiders. I meant it as an insult," he hummed, his thumbs stroking the sides of your hips. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours with a light, warm laugh.

"Times have changed," Damian whispered, his lips brushing against yours before pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. When he broke it, his gaze was dark, focused, and completely undivided. "Patrol's done. Let's go home — I'm done sharing your attention with this city for tonight."

The heavy Gotham downpour was identical to the night you two first met. Cold, miserable, and thick with the smell of wet asphalt.

What felt like an eternity ago, Damian Wayne had tracked your silk lines through the shadowy backstreets of Old Gotham — Todd's territory. Back then, he was just Robin: an overly serious, aggressive kid with a Katana, scowling at you from the shadows and demanding to know what right an unregistered 'spider-person' had to jump across his roofs.

It had taken ages to break the ice. First came the chaotic co-patrols, where you'd trade snarky jabs over who stole whose arrest. Then came the Batfamily — who, naturally, figured out your mutual crushes long before either of you had the nerve to admit it. Dick immediately welcomed you into the fold with overly enthusiastic hugs, winking whenever Damian stood a little too close to you; Jason ran a betting pool on when you two would stop dancing around each other; Tim just smirked from behind his coffee cup whenever Damian got unnaturally quiet around you; Steph constantly dropped subtle (and not-so-subtle) remarks; Cass gave you a small, knowing nod that meant she read both of your heart rates; Duke offered to cover your rooftop shifts to give you two privacy; Barbara suppressed chuckles over the comms; Bruce silently watched your combat logs with rare approval; and Alfred quietly served tea with a gentle twinkle in his eye, remarking on how remarkably well-behaved Master Damian became whenever you joined them for dinner.

Somewhere between getting patched up in the Cave and beating each other up on the sparring mats, the hostility turned into something else. Damian was actually the one who broke the tension — after a brutal night fighting Firefly, he’d grabbed you by your collar in the middle of an argument, pulled you down to his height, and kissed you so hard your teeth almost clacked together.

Now, six months into a real relationship, the Gotham rain didn't feel half as bad.

Standing beneath the shelter of a rusted billboard high above the streets, Damian was leaning against the metal framing, his domino mask pulled up slightly so he could breathe. He wiped a streak of rain off his cheek with the back of his glove, looking at you with a mix of exhaustion and that familiar, sharp smirk.

"You know..." Damian started, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice dry and casual, "I was just thinking about the absolute mess of a tactic you used the first night I found you in Old Gotham. You almost slipped off that ledge."

He pushed off the beam and stepped right into your space, sliding his warm hands under your jacket to rest on your waist, using his heat to warm you up. He looked up into your eyes, his green eyes flashing with genuine mischief.

"I pulled a sword on you back then and told you that Robins eat spiders. I meant it as an insult," he hummed, his thumbs stroking the sides of your hips. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours with a light, warm laugh.

"Times have changed," Damian whispered, his lips brushing against yours before pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. When he broke it, his gaze was dark, focused, and completely undivided. "Patrol's done. Let's go home — I'm done sharing your attention with this city for tonight."