summary: an unexpected guest finds you during your shower..?
warnings: fluff, est. relationship, they’re both sappy af, arachnophobia (?), use of pet names (hayati, habibti, beloved), v short
A thud. A scream. A bang.
Is what Damian Wayne heard coming from the bathroom which you were occupying.
His heart jumped, as did he off of the couch as he ran over to the bathroom door. He quickly turned the handle, wasting no time before barging into the steamy bathroom.
He saw you, eyes wide, skin still damp from the shower as you shakily held onto the towel around your body.
“Hayati, what happened?” He said, hurrying over to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, trying to calm your clearly stressed form.
“Damian!” Your arms flew around him. No, not in a hug, but in an attempt to run behind him and hide.
He caught your wrist before you could head to the door.
“What are you doing?” His eyes were filled with confusion, even more so concern.
“Dami! There’s a spider in the shower!” You said with a twinge of mortification in your voice.
Damian stared at you for a moment before letting you go, his expression deadpanned.
“A…spider, habibti?”
You groaned, “Yes! A spider! Oh- don’t look at me like that, I’m not crazy!”
He couldn’t help it as a grin tugged up on his lips. “Now when did I say that, hayati? Come on, I’ll get it for you.” Damian turned around, making his way over to the shower as he pulled the glass door open.
You huffed and crossed your arms as he examined the marble tiles for any chance of an arachnid. That’s when he saw the small 8-legged creature hovering right above the shower head.
He stared at it. It stared back at him. It’s many eyes blinking at the tall specimen in front of him. Damian sighed as he reached his hands out, clasping the spider into his hands.
You watched as he turned back from the shower, eyes wandering up to yours while his palms guarded the bug. They were dangerously close to each other, threatening the spider with a fate he couldn’t possibly escape.
You stared at his palms with your eyes wide open, tracing every little twitch in his fingers. Like if you looked away even for a second it would find a way onto your skin.
“Shall I throw it away?” He tilted his head lightly.
Your eyes flew to his face as you shook your head repeatedly. “No. Don’t kill it.”
Damian raised an eyebrow, yet he knew what he had to do. He carefullly walked past you and out of the bathroom before arriving at the tall window that lead to your balcony.
The window was skilfully opened by his elbow as Damian stepped out into the cold air. His bare feet met the chilling tiles and a shiver ran up his spine.
He crouched down in front of one of the plants, placing the small arachnid on a rustling leaf.
You watched the whole scene unravel from inside of the apartment, an awestruck expression forming on your face. Damian walked back into the warm apartment when he noticed you.
“What is it belov-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentences as you enveloped him in a long hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“You’re so sweet, Dami.” you sapped into his collarbone. “Love you.”
He chuckled, “All of this just because I got rid of a spider?”
You didn’t answer, just sighed further into his skin.
Damian smiled, “Love you too.” His fingers crept behind your neck, swiping a line of bubbles your body wash had left over.
“But you should get back into the shower.” He whispered and you nodded, letting him go almost hesitantly.
Damian looked around the now empty living room as he heard the shower turn back on. His eyes trailed over the wet droplets you had left on the floor from all the scurrying you did while you were still dripping wet.
He just sighed and trotted over to the kitchen to grab a mop.
a/n: idk I feel like Damian can be such a loverboy when he gets close enough to someone😙
(^.^) ...runs across three state lines to grab your hyper-specific favorite pastries and coffee before your morning alarm even goes off, still acting like he barely made it back in time to slide under the covers next to you.
(^.^) ...acts like a living radiator because of his hyper-metabolism, meaning winter nights consist of you casually using his legs as a foot-warmer while he just pulls you closer.
(^.^) ...dramatically sighs and pretends to complain when you steal his oversized athletic hoodies, but low-key gets the biggest, dorkiest smile on his face every single time he sees you walking around the house wearing his clothes.
(^.^) ...celebrates every single one of your personal victories like you just saved the entire multiverse, scooping you up into a spin and bragging about you to literally every member of the Justice League.
(^.^) ...kisses your cheek before running off to a crisis and swears, "I'll be back before your tea cools down"—and actually zips back in time to take a warm sip, kiss you again, and head right back out.
(^.^)...scoops you up in a protective slipstream the second you mention having a stressful day, carrying you off to watch the sunset from a quiet, windy cliffside three states away just so you can breathe.
(^.^) ...considers the absolute best part of his day to be lying completely still beside you on a slow Sunday afternoon—because for a guy who lives at a million miles an hour, nothing feels better than slowing down with you.
Damian Wayne is the clingiest sleepy boyfriend imaginable. though, he'd never admit that. every night he is practically your body guard.
The manor was quiet in the way only deep nights could be — the kind of silence that made every creak of the old floorboards feel louder than it should. You woke up slowly, blinking against the darkness, your throat dry and your mind fuzzy from a half-remembered dream. The clock on the nightstand read 3:42am. You’d only been asleep for a few hours, but your body was already demanding water.
You tried to slip out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Damian. He was curled up beside you, one arm draped possessively over your waist even in sleep, his breathing deep and even. His dark hair was messy against the pillow, his face relaxed in a way it rarely was during the day. You smiled softly, brushing a stray strand from his forehead before easing out from under his arm.
The second your feet touched the floor, he stirred.
“Mm… where are you going?” His voice was thick with sleep, rough and low, but his hand reached out immediately, fingers brushing your wrist.
“Just getting water,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”
He made a small, discontented sound, but his eyes stayed closed. You padded to the bathroom, the cool tile under your feet a relief. You filled a glass from the sink, sipping slowly, listening to the quiet drip of the faucet. When you turned to leave, Damian was standing in the doorway, hair even messier, eyes half-open, wearing his sleeping shorts and an old t-shirt.
You nearly jumped. “Damian? What are you doing up?”
He shrugged, stepping closer. “Making sure you don’t hurt yourself." fall in the toilet.”
You stared at him, trying not to laugh. “I’m not going to hurt myself getting water. I’m a grown woman.”
He crossed his arms, looking adorably stubborn even half-asleep. “The floor is slippery at night. And you’re tired. I’m just… being cautious.”
You smiled, setting the glass down and stepping into his space. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. His chin rested on your head, warm and solid.
“You’re clingy when you’re sleepy,” you teased softly, fingers tracing patterns on his back.
“I am not clingy,” he muttered, but his arms tightened around you. “I’m… protective. There’s a difference.”
You laughed quietly, nuzzling into his neck. “Sure. Protective of me falling into the toilet or something at 3am.”
He huffed, but didn’t let go. Instead, he walked you back to the bed, still holding you close, and pulled you down with him. You ended up curled against his chest, his arm draped over your waist, leg tangled with yours. He pressed a soft kiss to your hair, already drifting back to sleep.
“Stay,” he mumbled. “Please.”
You smiled against his skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He made a small, contented sound and held you tighter.
The next night, it happened again.
You woke up around 2am, needing the bathroom. The second your feet hit the floor, once again; Damian stirred beside you. This time he didn’t even pretend to be asleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, voice gravelly.
You turned, smiling in the dark. “Damian, I can go to the bathroom by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
He frowned, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “The hallway is dark. And cold. You might trip.”
You laughed softly, but let him follow you anyway. He walked beside you the whole way, one hand on your lower back like he was ready to catch you if you stumbled. When you reached the bathroom door, he waited outside, leaning against the wall until you came out. Then he took your hand, leading you back to bed without a word.
Once you were both under the covers, he pulled you against his chest again, arms wrapping around you like a shield. His chin rested on your head, breath warm against your hair.
“I'll say it again. you're clingy,” you whispered, smiling.
“I am not,” he muttered, but his hold tightened. “I’m… ensuring your safety. That’s all.”
You kissed his collarbone. “Well I love your version of safety.”
He made a small, pleased sound and fell back asleep almost immediately, holding you like you might vanish if he let go.
It became a pattern.
Every night, no matter how deeply he slept, the second you moved, Damian was awake. If you got up for water, he followed, standing in the doorway like a silent guardian. If you had a nightmare and sat up gasping, he was there instantly, pulling you into his arms, murmuring soft reassurances in Arabic until you calmed down. If you simply rolled over, he’d reach out, hand finding yours under the covers, lacing your fingers together like he needed the connection to stay asleep.
During the day, he was the same reserved, slightly arrogant Damian Wayne the world knew — blunt, focused, keeping everyone at arm’s length. But at night, in the quiet dark of your shared room, he was soft. Clingy. Needy in a way he’d never admit.
One particularly cold night, you woke up shivering. Before you could even reach for the extra blanket, Damian was already moving. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a human blanket, his body heat seeping into yours. His face pressed against your neck, breath warm and steady.
“Cold?” he mumbled, half-asleep.
“A little,” you whispered, smiling as you snuggled into him. “You’re warm though.”
He made a small, contented sound, nuzzling closer. “Stay close then. I’ve got you.”
You fell back asleep like that — wrapped up in Damian Wayne, his arms around you, his leg thrown over yours, like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you.
In the morning, he’d wake up first, as always. He’d slip out of bed quietly, pretending the clingy boy from the night before had never existed. He’d make coffee, set out your favourite mug, and act like nothing had changed. But you’d catch him watching you with that soft look when he thought you weren’t looking. And when you’d smile at him across the table, he’d blush faintly and look away, ears pink.
But at night, he’d reach for you again. Every single time.
Because no matter how much he denied it during the day, Damian Wayne was the clingiest sleepy boyfriend in the world. And you wouldn’t have him any other way.
A/N: lil guy so cute I love him sm. sorry for constantly disappearing im lowkey setting up a queue rn
Hiii! How are yall doing? I'd like to make a request: I'd love for you to write about Aged Up! Damian x Tall! Reader! Thank you! Have a great day!
(English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!)
(Also, I'd like to know if you accept anon emojis, and if so, I'd like to be 🪷 anon)
Kisses 🩷🩷🪷
I got you 🪷
I want a dream lover, so I don’t don’t have to dream alone
Aged up Damian Wayne x Tall! Reader
Thank you so much for the request!
: ̗̀➛ When Damian Wayne met you let’s just say he was a little…awkward at first. He always considered himself tall after he turned of age until you came into his life standing a good few inches above him.
: ̗̀➛ You two met in one of his college classes. The class being full and you seeming like the best person to take a seat next to. He found your company endearing and had a short conversation with you. Then it was time to leave and you stood up. He is quite embarrassed to admit he had to look up at you to look into your eyes when you stood. He lowkey stuttered in awe.
: ̗̀➛ From that day on you two became good friends and then lovers. You have expressed to him multiple times of being insecure about your height but he always makes sure to tell you it does not change anything to him.
: ̗̀➛ He is constantly teased by his family about you being taller than him but to be fair you are taller than most people.
: ̗̀➛ He learns you intimidate people because your height, not intentionally of course but it still happens. He though was not intimidated just a little shocked. He does not understand why people are afraid to interact with you. To him you are the sweetest person he’s ever met.
: ̗̀➛ He does get flustered when he has to look up to keep eye contact with you. He gets even more flustered if you look down to keep eye contact with him.
: ̗̀➛ He defends you with his life. He will throw hands if someone tries to make a sly comment about your height.
: ̗̀➛ He genuinely does not get why do guys are so weird about having a partner taller then them. He’s having the time of his life lowkey.
i had a thought about teen!r x tim just acting like dumb kids idk… like they’d call each other husband playfully and joke about stuff, they weren’t even dating when that whole thing started and the relationship just kind of slowly morphed without needing to say anything (maybe some batfam cameo too, tim gets teased so much but he’s still in denial) ouhhh i’m so soft rn feeling emoshunal teen love is so cute :(
-🪸
CASE FILE 001-A: “Red Robin’s Domestic Crisis.”
PAIRING: Tim Drake × Male Reader
CASE STATUS:
▪️Closed
CASE TYPE:
You and Tim are not dating. The “husband” thing is just a joke, obviously, and anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong (according to him). The Batfam, unfortunately, is more than happy to point it out and he has to deal with the fact that everyone else came to terms with it before he did.
Well, it starts like a joke.
“Move, husband,” you say, nudging Tim’s shoulder with yours as you squeeze past him in the hallway.
He barely looks up from his phone. “Rude. I’m literally carrying all of the weight of this entire operation.”
“You mean the group project you’ve redone five times because you don’t trust anyone else to breathe near it?” You raised a brow slowly.
Tim finally glances at you, flat and unimpressed in the way only he can manage. “Be a good husband and appreciate my dedication.”
That makes you snort. “Yes, dear.”
It isn’t even consistent at first. Just the little things.
You steal his pencil, he calls you “ungrateful spouse.” You sit next to him in the library, he mutters “oh, hey, my beloved showed up.” You bring him snacks, he smiles like you’ve fulfilled a lifelong vow.
“Fix your posture,” you tell him one afternoon, leaning over the table in the library.
Tim doesn’t even look offended. “Is that how you speak to your husband?”
“Yes,” you say immediately. “Be good and sit up before you turn into a cashew.”
“You’re impossible.” He obeys, but only to prove a point. No other reason.
“And yet you married me.”
Tim mutters, “Regrettably.”
…
Later, he starts doing it without prompting.
You’re half asleep when he taps your forehead lightly. “Wake up… your spouse requires urgent support.”
You blink at him. “That’s.. not how marriage works.”
“Well, too late for that, we already signed the paperwork in my head.” He smirked.
“You forged legal documents?”
“I’m a Drake. We’re efficient.”
You laugh and he looks satisfied, like that was the goal more than the joke itself. And it keeps going like that. Small and stupid like:
“You’re failing your husband duties by laughing at me.”
“Ughh.. my spouse is neglecting me again.”
It’s late evening in the kitchen when Tim walks in, still half in suit from patrol, grabbing a glass of water. Dick is already there, perched on the counter.
“So,” Dick says casually, swinging his legs, “how’s married life?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Dick’s grin widens. “Oh, you know. The whole ‘be a good husband’ situation you’ve got going on.”
“It’s a joke,” Tim says immediately, too fast.
“Sureeee,” Dick replies, dragging it out. “A very committed joke. Real lifetime partnership energy.”
“We’re just messing around.” Tim murmurs into his cup of water as he takes a sip.
“Uh-huh.” Dick hops down from the counter. “You mess around like you’re filing, I don’t know, joint taxes.”
Tim doesn’t respond to that, asides from a sigh. Which, unfortunately, is also an answer.
…
Jason hears about it later, and of course he hears it wrong first. He’s in the training room when Tim passes through, and he doesn’t even look away from the punching bag.
“So you finally got hitched, huh?”
Tim stops walking. “No.”
Jason smirks. “That’s not what Dick said.”
“I’m going to assume Dick said something stupid.”
Jason finally looks over, amused. “He said you’ve got a husband now.”
Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s a joke.”
“Yeah? You call him that in the field too?”
“That was once.”
“That’s once more than zero.”
Tim walks away before it can become a full interrogation.
Jason watches him go and calls after him, “Tell your spouse I said hi!”
“He’s not my—”
But Jason was already laughing.
…
Tim finds Damian in the library later, sitting straight in a chair that looks too big for him, sharpening a pencil like it’s a blade.
Damian looks up. “Grayson says you have entered into a matrimonial arrangement.”
“No.”
“A mock marriage?” Damian tilts his head slightly.
“Yes.”
“A foolish one?”
Tim exhales. “It’s a joke, Damian.”
Damian goes back to sharpening. “You are unusually tolerant of this individual.”
“I tolerate all of you.”
“That is false.” Damian continues, unbothered. “You respond faster to him. You allow physical proximity without irritation. You have never corrected his usage of marital terminology in a meaningful way.”
“It’s not meaningful,” Tim says.
Damian finally looks up again. “Then why do you hesitate before denying it?”
Tim adjusts his sleeve. “It’s just funny.”
“Denial is inefficient.”
…
Stephanie is also worse.
She sprinted towards Tim in the hallway with both hands full of equipment bags. “Ooooh,” she cooes instantly. “How’s married life treating you?”
Tim groans. “Not you too.”
“Yeah! I heard you’re domestic now.” She leans in like it’s classified intel and whispers, “Do you cook? Do you fight over chores? Do you say ‘yes dear’ yet?”
“It’s not real.”
“Sounds real,” she practically sings.
“It’s seriously just a joke!” Tim said indignantly.
“Sure,” she says, stretching the word. “A joke where you’ve basically adopted a boyfriend.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Tell your husband I said hi!”
He doesn’t respond but his ears are turning red.
…
Barbara doesn’t ease into it either, which of course, sucks for Tim. It’s another late call and the screen glows faintly in the background, green code reflecting off her glasses. Tim is mid-report, standing in the cave with his tablet, trying very hard to sound normal.
“You’ve been syncing patrol routes around his schedule,” Barbara says.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” she cuts in, calm but certain. “And you don’t do ‘not deliberate’ things, Tim.”
Silence.
Barbara leans back slightly in her chair. “Also,” she adds, like she’s switching topics but absolutely isn’t, “I know teen love when I see it.”
She continues, tone far too casual for what she’s saying. “And you? Totally soft for that guy.”
“I’m not—” he starts.
Barbara lifts a hand. “Don’t.”
That single word shuts it down more effectively than a screaming argument ever could.
Tim exhales. “It’s not like that.”
Barbara watches him through the screen, expression gentler now, but still knowing. “Then what is it?” she asks.
He hesitates for too long, and that’s the problem because whatever answer he was going to give… doesn’t come out to be believable anymore.
“It’s a joke,” he says finally, quieter this time.
She just nods. “Sure. A joke.”
And through all of it, Tim keeps insisting the same thing.
It’s a joke.
A simple running bit.
Something stupid between two people.
But jokes don’t usually make him look up when someone walks into a room. They don’t usually stick around this long. And they definitely don’t make everyone else start noticing before he does.
Tim stares at the screen a little longer than he means to.
The message is simple—just four words that feel heavier than they should.
“I want to talk to you.”
Before he can overthink it further, the phone buzzes again.
“Yes, my darling husband?”
Of course.
Tim exhales through his nose, something between a laugh and resignation. His thumb hovers for a second, then starts typing.
“Stop calling me that.”
He deletes it and tries again.
“Are you busy?”
Too casual, so he deleted it too.
He locks the screen for half a second, then unlocks it again like that would reset his brain.
This is ridiculous. He’s faced down armed criminals and dismantled hacking networks—and somehow texting is what’s breaking him.
He finally types:
“Can you meet me? Tonight.”
Almost immediately, the reply from you comes through.
“Yeah. Where, honey?”
Tim shuts his eyes for a second. Stop calling me that, he almost types. Instead:
“Roof. The usual one.”
No reply after that. He just hopes you listen.
…
He gets there first.
Gotham air is cold enough to bite through fabric but Tim barely notices. He’s already running through every possible version of this conversation in his head, none of them good enough.
Footsteps approach behind him a few minutes later.
You step up beside him. “So,” you say. “This is serious business or just emotional support husband duties?”
Tim lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Serious,” he finally says.
“Okay,” you say, quieter. “Talk to me.”
Tim looks out over Gotham for a second longer, like he needs something steady to focus on before he says anything.
“I think… I think I might actually like you.” He looks at you softly. “I don’t know when it stopped being a joke, but it did.”
A pause as the wind moves between you both, sharp and cold.
Tim continues anyway, “And I don’t expect anything from you. I just needed to admit it.”
“…You feel it too?”
He just blinks. “What?”
You look just as surprised as he feels.
Your brows lift, your expression caught somewhere between disbelief and relief, as though you’d expected almost any response except the one he’d given.
“Do you feel it too?” you repeated.
“…Too?”
You scratch the back of your neck, suddenly looking a lot less confident than the boy who’d spent months calling him husband and all those pet names without a second thought.
“I mean…” You let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Um, I kind of thought I was the one who accidentally ruined the joke.”
Tim just stares. “You like me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ve been calling me ‘husband’ and ‘honey’ this entire time while actually—”
“Yep..”
Another pause.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was funny at first. Then I started looking forward to hearing you say it back.”
Tim’s heart does something deeply inconvenient.
“I’d catch myself wondering if you’d text me that day.” You smile to yourself, small and sheepish. “Or I’d hear something dumb and think, ‘Tim’s going to roll his eyes so hard at this.’”
Tim can only gape at you.
For someone who always has a response, always has another angle or argument ready, his mind is completely blank.
“You seriously…” he mumbles at last.
“I seriously like you.”
Tim lets out a slow breath. “I spent four days trying to convince myself Dick was imagining things.”
“He wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Jason?”
“…Unfortunately not.”
“The rest of your family?”
“They’re going to be unbearable.”
“So… they figured it out before we did?”
“…Yeah,” he admits.
“Huh.”
“Hm.”
“Sooo…” You nudge his shoulder with yours, almost experimentally.
“So.”
“Does this mean I was being a good spouse this whole time?”
Tim groans, dropping his face into one hand. “You had one chance to be serious.”
“I was serious for, like, two full minutes!”
“You lasted eighty seconds at most.”
“I think that’s a personal record.”
Against his better judgment, Tim laughs.
You brighten immediately at the sound. “There he is.”
“Oh, don’t start.”
“I can’t help it.” You bump him again. “It’s nice hearing my husband laugh.”
Tim shakes his head, already smiling.
“…You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” you say, reaching over to lace your fingers through his with effortless certainty, “you still like me.”
Tim looks down at your joined hands.
Then back at you.
“…Yeah,” he says, giving your hand the slightest squeeze. “I really do.”
I saw this picture and I thought: DAMIRAE! So I did what I had to do and boy, was it worth it! Also, I’m new to tumblr and I have no idea what the etiquette for posting here is?? But if anyone would like to help here, it’d mean the world to me🫶🫶
Just here to let everyone know I am indeed alive and working on something 😂 Next short is a fully animated frame-by-frame piece so it's gonna take a pound of flesh and a buttload of time bleh. Late July at best. Summer is a busy time 🔥
And yes, although she doesn't officially appear here, Damian and Raven dating was canon in the Harley Quinn Show! (ain't he cute lol tis the inspiration for this doodle)
So it has come to my attention that Bruce is getting a new Butler!!! I wonder what she is like???
She looks like the sassy type and would happily mess with the BatFam!!! But is very doting for Raven lol (because Rae is nice)
~~~
Talia: “What do I have to do to get some milk for my coffee?”
Miss Pennyworth: “Hover over a bucket.”
~~~
Miss Pennyworth: “And what would you like to eat for dinner?”
Bruce: “no need, I have a standing invitation with a certain senator.”
Miss Pennyworth: “hmm, what some politicians won’t do for a vote” 😏
~~~
Jason: (trying to get some gossip on Damian to blackmail him) “Come on, you wouldn’t leave me hanging!”
Miss Pennyworth: “No we’d cut you down in a week or two.”
~~~
Dick: (on the phone) “God, I have to move out of my apartment. To get the floors redone and I cannot find a Kennel.”
Miss Pennyworth: “Oh treat yourself to a hotel.”
~~~
Tim: “Miss Pennyworth, would you keep an eye on my bags.”
Miss Pennyworth: “Alright!” (Looks at Tim’s eye bags)
Tim notices
Miss Pennyworth: “Just tell me when to stop.”
Damian smirking in the background
~~~
😂😂😂 she won’t hold back!!! I mean can you guys imagine working with the Wayne’s!!! 😂😂😂
I can imagine how Miss Pennyworth and Raven meet for the first time!!!
Damian is inviting girl over for the first time and he is freaking out!!! He wants everything to be perfect.
Miss Pennyworth in her snarky way of reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. Though she isn’t looking forward to this, believe Damian has the same taste as Bruce the “playboy.”
Miss Pennyworth is expecting some Pretty girl from an affluent family. If that is the case…should she be surprise? Though if she is being honest with herself, unlike his father. Young Master Damian doesn’t have Master Bruce playboy character. It makes more sense if Damian is being with a girl if it benefits the Wayne Business and social status.
~~~
Meanwhile Raven is freaking out!!! She is visiting Damian place. Please understand she isn’t visiting a regular friend’s house.
She’s visiting a billionaire friend at his million dollar mansion!!!
What should she wear? What should she bring? The last thing she wants is to make a fool out of herself!!!
~~~
Miss Pennyworth was pleasantly surprised to see Raven!
Raven was such a polite girl, she even brought a gift! 🎁 Lol, I can just see Raven giving Miss Pennyworth an enchanted orb that controls cleaning products, allowing the house to clean itself without Miss Pennyworth having to lift a finger.
damian wayne stood at the end of the aisle, waiting,
you had spent months planning the wedding, making sure every small detail was perfect. he had stayed by your side through each process. he has helped you pick a venue, theme, and wedding colors.
the wedding, truly, was beautiful. light filtered in through the stained glass windows, painting the scenery with golden light,
all of your friends and family were there, chattering softly, he was barely even listening to the other groomsmen chatter, he was just taking it all in.
he sighs, bouncing on his heels, and adjusts his cufflinks.
this was it, the day you were officially a married woman.
the orchestra began playing softly, signifying the beginning of the ceremony.
you walk out, and you look like the definition of grace. the veil covering you framed you like a halo. the white dress you had chosen fit you beautifully.
heavens, you were devastating.
damian fights back the lump in his throat as you approach, watching you look around and giving him a small smile.
his heart stops for a beat, and he wishes he could frame this moment forever.
but, maybe in another life, you're walking towards him, that he's the one you're about to marry.
so, for now, he'll watch as the love of his life marries his best friend, and he'll watch supportive as you will grow to raise children that aren't his.
he will babysit them, and he will painfully accept that they will call him, "uncle damian," instead of "dad."
so he turns towards the altar and will watch as he feels what is left of his heart break.
because, you always had his heart, and you were the one that got away.
wally stared at you as you laid on his bed with your eyes closed and a slight frown, hearing your small pants and getting hit with the warm puffs of breath you let out against his shoulder as you still tried to recover your breath, and he smiled to himself. it was one of his favourite sights and just one of his favourite moments, in a way the evidence of the manifestation of his love for you. he reached out and placed one hand on your waist to tug you closer to him, so that you’d rest against his chest. “baby?”
“hm?”
“i love you.” he kept his gaze locked on you, watching as you made yourself comfortable on top of him.
you smiled softly at his words, finally looking up to meet his gaze, your cheek pressed to his collarbone. “yeah?”
“mhm.” his smile mirrored your own.
“you do?”
“yeah, i do.”
“you love me?”
“of course i do, sweetheart.”
“you do what?”
he narrowed his eyes at you, knowing what you were doing, but he humoured you anyway. “i love you, baby.”
your smile widened at his quick response, a light blush colouring your cheeks despite your teasing. “that’s nice.”
wally’s brows furrowed as he saw you nuzzling your face back into his chest, but he still planted a peck to the crown of your head the moment it was in front of him. you could picture his pout even facing away from him. “do you?”
“do i what?” you did your best effort not to laugh in his face. he rolled his eyes.
“do you love me?”
you looked up again. “do you?”
wally grumbled, wanting to kiss that playful smile off your face. “yeah, i do, baby.”
“you do what?”
“i love you.” he practically whined, in his pouty face.
“cool.”
you tried looking back down but he was quick to grab your face in his hand to force it back up, pressing his forehead to yours, and this once you just couldn’t hold your giggles at his frown. his lips unconsciously quirked up too at your reaction, despite his annoyance, but he tried his best to suppress the smile. “do you love me?”
you hummed at the question, pretending to think about the answer, with his face still pressed to yours. “what do you think?”
“oh, i have no idea. i’m clueless. would you mind enlightening me?”
you were struggling to hold in more giggles, he obviously knew the answer already, you reminded him daily, which is what made his insistence so cute.
“i think you should know by now.”
“do you love me?” he pressed.
“well, now i don’t know.”
wally’s face dropped. you weren’t sure if that was even funnier or just scary. “don’t even joke like that.”
you once again broke in laughter, endeared by your whiny excuse of a boyfriend, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as you pressed a loud kiss to his face, but he was still complaining.
“do you love me?” he tried again in an exaggeratedly whiny tone, his voice muffled by the deep pout on his lips.
“do you?”
“of course i do, babe! more than anything!”
“what more than anything?”
wally grumbled, but still played along, convinced that you’d finally give in if he did. “i love you more than anything.” he muttered, not so enthusiastic anymore.
“i love you more, baby.” you spoke between giggles.
wally raised an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk showing up on his face. “oh, you don’t wanna start that now.”
“yeah, i don’t, actually.”
“well, that’s too bad because i definitely love you more.” his arms tightened around your waist and he started peppering kisses all over your face.
“shut up!” you laughed despite yourself. “i don’t love you anymore!”
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