Obsessed Fangirl

💞😽

-🌺

I’m great!! Currently trying to get back into art, so I’ve been focusing on that for a few days. Thank you so much, I’m glad you liked it!! 💕💕

Not proofread so there’s probably mistakes.

Damian looking at you, his pregnant wife. His beloved, carrying his babygirl that will be here in less than a month. (GIRL DAD DAMIAN)

You look beautiful, in a yellow sundress that accentuates your bump. He admires you as you walk to the freezer in the kitchen. He’s leaning on the counter, just watching and waiting just in case you need help with anything.

He prefers you sit down and rest. You’re tired, sore and just cranky as hell. But you’re nine months pregnant, it’s to be expected.

So when you open the freezer and find your ice cream gone? You turn to him with a glare. It was there last night, you sure as hell didn’t finish it off. The culprit, is staring at you lovingly while leaning on the counter.

He should’ve known better than to eat the last bit of your ice cream and not replace it. To be fair, he meant to go out shopping but he wanted to stay home with you today.

And now here you are, scolding him in your native language.

Você acabou com o sorvete que eu estava desejando e não comprou mais?! (You finished the ice cream I was craving and didn’t buy anymore?!)

You throw your hands up in the air in frustration as you speak. Your bottom lip juts out and your eyes get watery as you rub your bump.

Eu queria muito aquele sorvete, Dami. (I really wanted that ice cream, Dami)

All he does is smile and embrace you while mumbling an apology into your hair. He loves when you speak to him in Portuguese. Of course when the two of you first started talking, he learned it immediately.

He loves when you do it, doesn’t matter if you’re scolding him or praising him. He thinks you sound so beautiful when you do it.

The past nine months, you’ve asked for a lot of things that you’ve been craving. He has brought home every single one of them.

He left in the middle of the night to go ask Alfred if he could make you spinach and artichoke dip. When he came home with it, you kissed him happily.

Meu homem perfeito, eu te amo. Obrigada. (My perfect man, I love you. Thank you.)

He smiled and brushed your hair behind your ears. Pecked your forehead and went to sit on the couch with you as you ate the dip with some chips.

Minha linda esposa. (My beautiful wife)

He muttered, staring at you. You smile at him, you feel your babygirl kick and you quickly grab his hand to place it in your belly. He places a kiss onto your bump as he mutters.

Do you think you could do a Damian with a foreign reader when you have time? (In my case, I'm Brazilian! But you can choose.)

thanks! <33

-🌺

Hi lovelie!! I’m good 😊, I hope you are too. Happy pride month!

I’m currently working on it, I wasn’t sure how to start it but I’ve figured it out!!

(To anyone that wants to make anon requests/suggestions. Please choose an emoji you’d like to be referred to as.) 🌺 is obviously taken.

Until his eyes glaze over you, and his heart stops.

He stops in his tracks and turns to look back through the glass almost desperately. Searching for you.

He thinks he hallucinated, until he sees you typing on a laptop. He stares. His hand lowers the umbrella that he was holding. His movements automatic as he closes it.

The rain hasn’t stopped, It’s pouring. But he’s too stunned to see you. The rain soaking his hair and his clothes.

You look the same to him, just a bit more refined.

Fucking ethereal

He’s trying to get the courage to actually go in, say hi. Catch up. Something

But he’s stuck in that spot, reminiscing of what could have been if he didn’t dump you years ago.

You were too good, too sweet, he cared so much about you but he became robin. He couldn’t juggle you and being robin. He was hurting you. He kept lying about his whereabouts.

You brought it up to him. He lied. You could tell, but you didn’t say anything. He was young, he didn’t know he could have both.

His thoughts are interrupted when your eyes meet his through the coffee shop window. Yours widen in shock, as you witness the man you love, standing there. You tried to date, a little over a year after he left you. It never worked out.

He was it for you and now he’s outside. Staring at you, like you’re going to slip away. He is soaked, head to toe and it doesn’t even seem to register in him.

You wave him inside, a bit worried he’s going to get sick. He comes in and makes his way toward your table.

He sits down across from you and is at a loss for words.

“Hi, Tim”

He breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Hi….wow, look at you!”

You chuckle awkwardly, heat rising to your cheeks.

“I didn’t realize I had that effect.”

You tease lightly.

“On me? Yeah, that never went away”

He spoke earnestly. You raise an eyebrow, a bit shocked at the honesty coming out of him.

He smiles as he combs through the hair on his forehead. Still as handsome as ever.

He stares, like he’s memorizing every bit of your face.

He did that before he dumped you. He catalogued every line, every freckle, every small scar, the specks in your eyes. He hasn’t forgotten you. To see you in person again, god his heart is beating out of his chest.

“You okay Tim?”

He clears his throat and looks down at his hands on the table.

“Yeah I uh— I just want to be honest about everything….Can I?”

You smile softly and reach for his hand.

-🌺 anon

I’m glad you loved it!! 🌺

That man is so secure and confident, even if he was average/below average height for a man, he’d have no problem with a tall partner.

So when you first started dating, you wanted to wear shoes that you loved, but gave you an extra inch or two. The second his saw those thoughts run through your head, he put a stop to it.

“Beloved, you don’t need to worry about being taller than me…” he spoke gently.

You stare at him blankly for a minute, you really wanted to wear the ones that gave you a bit of height, they matched your outfit really well.

He can tell you’re still doubting it.

“If not for yourself, then for me beloved”

Your heart practically stops. You slip them on, awkwardly staring at your feet before looking him in the eyes.

He’s leaning against the door frame to your room, smiling at you.

“You look stunning, let’s go show you off”

———————————

Honestly I think he loves having a tall partner, he can put stuff in his eye level and not worry about them getting mad they can’t reach or can’t find it. (Personal experience right there)

When you two decided to move in, you were both annoyed at the height of the counters in the kitchen. What do you mean you have to break your back just to chop some vegetables?

Bathtubs? Yeah yall need a custom one. Can’t really lay down to soak. Couches? Same dilemma. A lot of things are made for those of average height and it’s a problem. (I’m putting my husbands frustrations to good use here)

So custom build a house was a decision the two of you made. A new beautiful house, that was made perfectly for the two of you. The fact that it’s the coziest house ever. The big ass couches that are essentially day beds, the huge blankets that lay around.

You tried so hard to find really big blankets, you would go to order after looking at all of these really good reviews only to realize after it came in, that yes the blanket is huge….for short people. So the minute you found one that actually fit, covered your legs all the way to your chest and had room for Damian too, he told you to order as many as you wanted.

Damian making sure yall got an Alaska king bed, the two of you trying to lay comfortably in a queen bed was not working. Someone’s limbs would be off the bed if not both of yours. He immediately ordered the Alaska king. He just wants to lay in the bed comfortably with you.

I know that both of you love not having neck/back pain trying to lean down to kiss each other.

Oh god and just thinking about how this man would come home with custom tailored outfits for you!

Literally just bringing home clothes in your favorite colors and then colors that he thinks look phenomenal on you. CUSTOM MATCHING OUTFITS!!!!

Because let’s be real, clothing that fits perfectly is hard to find for anyone but especially for tall people. The waistbands of pants, the length of dresses. It’s uncomfortable in certain areas. You just know this man would be like, no, it needs to fit you perfectly. You’re not pulling at the seam under your arm pits anymore. You’re not buying a shirt that says it’ll fit but then it’s kinda cropped even though it wasn’t supposed to be.

As much as you see that there are men that love short partners, in my head, Damian is 1000% loving having a tall partner. He sees it as just one more understanding the two of you have together, another way to be close. I fear this may be canon in my head and nobody could convince me otherwise. That man would be a devoted loving partner and to have his partner have one more thing in common with him, he’d love it.

Also, I'd like to know if I could get an emoji to represent me (🌺 maybe). Thanks again!

I really should put that I 100% will be okay with requests!

But yes let me get to that!! Thank you 🌺

HI!! I’m pretty good now that the family drama has settled! I hope you’re doing well :)

Thank you so much, that means a lot more than you could imagine and has definitely motivated me to continue to post more! :’)

Damian coming home to find you staring blankly at the wall. Curled up under a blanket on the couch. You don’t even process that he’s home.

You look drained….lifeless. He’s never seen you like this before, god is he worried. He racks his memories as he closes the door behind him. His heart clenching at the sight of you. You still haven’t spared a glance. He doesn’t remember upsetting you. He doesn’t think it’s his fault…but boy is he worried it is.

He sits on the couch, in front of your view of the wall. You’re not looking at him still. This isn’t normal. He’s normally greeted with a big smile and questions and a few kisses. He reaches out to caress your face, a call of your name alongside it.

Your eyes find his slowly, but they’re so empty. Glazed over. You’re looking right through him.

“Beloved” he speaks gently, a hint of worry escapes with it. He’s almost desperate to have you look at him normally, smile. Anything.

He sees the moment your eyes focus onto his, realizing he’s there. There’s a gloss that coats them, tears building up in the corner and your mouth turned into a frown.

Your hands quickly cover your face. He moves, pulling you into his chest. Arms wrapping securely around your body.

His heart shatters as the sobs break through you.

His partner, his world, his beloved.

The rest of the night, he caters to you. You ask him to let you off the couch so you can go to the bathroom? He’s carrying you there himself. He has any drink you want, ready and in your hands in a few minutes.

He’s scratching your scalp and massaging your back. Complimenting you every few minutes.

You tell him that you should probably cook the food that’s been thawing in the fridge? Nope he’s ordering your favorite take out.

He saw his beloved with the weight of the world on their shoulders and wasn’t going to let that stand. He didnt do anything wrong, you explained that. He was happy to hear but he came home to a shell of his world and he had to fix that.

So he’s able to read you before you even know what you want. He’s always prepared.

He notices you’re quicker to frustration and agitation? A bubble bath is drawn with rose petals in the water and some epsom salt. He’s got your favorite wax warmer on, lights turned off with food and a drink on the tray for the tub. Your nice, fluffy, robe all ready for when you decide to come out of the tub.

If you’re out shopping or just having a date night, there’s always an extra pair of clothes and shoes in his car. He’s had spares in the car since your very first date where you knocked over a glass of wine onto yourself.

You never run out of your shampoo, conditioner or body wash. He notices before you do, it’s always under the sink in the bathroom. There’s been multiple times where he’s brushing his teeth while you shower, you’re talking about your day and you pause as you try to squeeze out some body wash. You’re about to open the door to ask him to grab you a new bottle but it’s already open and he’s handing you the new one while throwing the old in the trash.

You’re about to ask him to change your laundry to the dryer because you forgot? It’s already done. He knows you don’t like laundry and it slips your mind a bit, so of course he makes sure you have clean clothes for the next day.

Don’t worry, you can read him really well too. You notice the taught shoulders, the lips in a thin line, the glare at nothing in particular. You drop what you’re doing, pull him into you and lay down on the couch. He protests, saying he’s “fine” but you don’t let him up. You just continue to run your fingers through his hair, he eventually falls right asleep on top of you.

Even if you weren’t directly on his mind, it would always go back to you, one way or another. Everything after you came into his life, was compared to you.

He wouldn’t say you have taken over his life, but you most certainly have. Alfred baked his favorite cookies? Yours tasted better. Exact same recipe, exact same ingredients. But yours, tasted. Better.

His fancy expensive sheets that he used to be very particular about? Nope. Your sheets. He made sure to get the exact set you have and now that is on his bed. Washed in the very same detergent you use.

A cologne he hadn’t worn in years, it just wasn’t his scent. A bit too, earthy, for him. But the first time you went over, you tested his colognes. You said you liked that one the most. He began wearing it around you, eventually he just wore it all the time.

He was at a family dinner but you couldn’t make it. He moped. Picked at his food, interacted with his family but the second you texted him saying you finally got home. He excused himself from the dinner early and practically raced to your place. He pulled you into a hug and inhaled your scent.

The rain brought a sense of comfort, laying under a blanket hearing the pitter patter of the rain on the windows.

The thunder that you can’t predict when it’s going to happen. Beautiful in its loud way, moves you a bit in your seat once you hear it and makes your heart beat just a bit faster.

The chill that the cool rain brings to the windows, bringing goosebumps to your skin.

All of it enough to be relaxing. All of it reminding him of you. You’re his rain, his thunder and his chill. You bring him comfort, you make his heart beat a bit faster. You give him goosebumps when you give him even the slightest touch.

Life got a bit crazy, pipe burst and finally got my car fixed. Reminder to be kind, I’m not the best writer but I’m trying to pick up old hobbies again. This was a bit rushed (im sure you can tell) due to bad things happening and I will be busy for the next two weeks. I’m incredibly thankful for love the first two parts got. Also I am finally getting the hang of writing on this app again, kinda lol.

Part one Part two

Aged up!Damian Wayne x reader

Part 2

Part one

Aged up!damian Wayne x reader

You don’t know what to do. He wants to talk and a part of you does too, but maybe ignoring it is for the best. He didn’t even let you get a word in the last time you saw him.

You didn’t blackmail him, obviously. You liked him!

~Flashback~

You stare at the photo on his laptop. Yeah it was the two of you kissing, late at night in his office, but he’s angry?

“Damia-“

“Mr. Wayne.” He corrects again.

You furrow your brows, a bit hurt. You’ve only called him Mr. Wayne at work. But since you two started seeing each other, he insisted Damian was okay.

You watch as he runs his hand over his face.

“I trusted you, I let you in and you blackmail me.” He scoffs.

“Damian I didn’t do that-“ You try to defend yourself.

“No. It’s done. What we had is done. Clean out your desk tomorrow.”

“What?!” You were shocked. You couldn’t even try to defend yourself to him, he wasn’t allowing it and now you’ve somehow lost your job.

All you can do is stare at him as he walks through the apartment door and shuts it behind him. Your heart breaking little by little.

~End flashback~

Why does he want to talk now? He didn’t let you speak last time, is it going to be more accusations?

You kind of miss him, he showed genuine interest in you. He was, as he put it, ‘courting’ you. That kiss. The one in his office before everything went wrong. That was your first kiss since seeing each other. He always seemed so put together, almost robotic.

~Flashback~

You knock on his office door a few times before letting yourself in.

“Mr. Wayne?” You look around, he standing at the window looking out into the night sky.

“Damian.” He corrects. You chuckle.

“We’re on the clock, you’re still Mr. Wayne as of right now” You tease as you place a few Manila folders on his desk. You feel his eyes on you as you straighten up his desk. He steps towards you with a few clicks of his tongue.

You finally look up at his face and soften your voice.

“It’s late, you need to rest.”

He looks lost in thought, his eyes stuck to yours. You furrow your brows as you speak.

“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been just a bit off all day.” You ask softly. His right hand comes up to the side of your face, his fingers gently brushing your jaw.

“I have been plagued by you all day. You are distracting.”

“I’m sorry…”

“A good distraction. You are ethereal. I wish to kiss you. Please” He breathes out.

“I- yes.”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair. You melt the second his lips touch yours, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

He pulls back breathless, you stare, wide eyed as you feel your skin burning under his touch.

~end flash back~

Blackmail?

Part 2

Aged up!Damian Wayne x reader

Finding flowers on your doormat after lugging two, overfilled grocery bags, up the stairs of your apartment building was not what you expected.

Your heart skips a beat and your steps falter, the fumble of the keys in your hand as you try to locate the key to your door.

Please don’t spill, please don’t spill.

The only thought going through your head as you try to unlock your door, clutching the grocery bags tightly against your chest. A successful drop of the bags on the counter but you stay still. You should go and bring those flowers in.

They have to be from him.

Come on, of course they’re from him.

Who else would’ve sent you flowers, you’ve only lived in this godforsaken city for two years. He’s the only person you had taken a chance on.