#girly!reader

[dolls-self-ships]

is this anything

[unreasonablerobin]

HI BARBIE

Damian Al Ghul x Girly!Reader

Synopsis: Damian and his... very girly girlfriend??

W.C: 4.3K

Tags: Fluff ♡

Something was different... everyone in the manor could tell that there was something different with Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

Considering he lived in a manor full of detectives, you really wouldn't think he'd have gotten away with his secret rendezvous.

7 months ago...

It all started with Alfred noticing new smells on his clothes as he did the laundry. At first, it seemed that Damian had simply switched to a new shampoo or maybe gotten a cologne. Then, the sharp scent of cologne started to come mixed with floral. Alfred did what any good butler would do. He ignored it. If his master wanted to indulge in wearing floral scents, he wouldn't shame him for it.

Alfred wasn't the only one who noticed the change in scent, though. Dick had been messing around with Damian in the training room. They always liked a good spar with each other. Everything was going as usual until... SNIFF

"Dude, are you wearing perfume?" Dick suddenly asked as he blocked a punch from his little brother. Damian's composure faltered for just a moment before he pulled himself together, grabbing Dick and tossing him over the shoulder. The poor vigilante was too distracted by his discovery to catch himself. He fell to the floor with a thud.

"Don't be ridiculous Grayson." The boy clicked his tongue as he began to walk out of the training room.

"It's one of those Britney Spears ones, Kori has a few," Dick said more to himself than Damian as the boy was choosing to ignore him the more words tumble out of his mouth. "Hold on don't tell, is it the pink one with the little green gems on it?"

Damian had to fight back the urge to inform him that the perfume he was thinking of was called Fantasy. He'd become quite the enthusiast simply from listening to you go on about all sorts of perfumes, and other products, sat at your vanity as he admired your reflection through the mirror.

"Why do you know so much about Britney Spears perfumes Grayson?" Damian retorted.

"Cause I have a very gorgeous girlfriend, Dams. I got her the perfume for her birthday, the bottle reminded me of her." He replied a lovesick grin already forming at the thought of his alien lover. The former assassin took the opportunity to sneak out of the training room as his older brother got lost in a train of hopeless romantic thoughts over his lover.

Once he made it back to his room he sharply inhaled. Yep, it smells like your perfume. Very clearly, like you'd jumped around spraying it before sneaking out this morning. He took a handful of his shirt and lifted it to his nose. Yep, also smells like your perfume and your setting spray. If he wanted to keep your relationship hidden from his lunatic families he'd need to do a better job of covering it, he thought to himself as he began to light any scented candles he could find. An attempt to cover your traces. One of them was a gift from you, so not entirely hiding your presence.

5 months ago...

The two of you were walking through the mall. Hands intertwined and a bundle of shopping bags in his other. He'd insisted on carrying them. No matter how ridiculous he looked. It was a funny sight. His cold hard expression paired with cute bags of clothes, makeup and a Sanrio plushie peeking out from one of them.

"Are you hungry, beloved?" Damian turned his head to face you. You pondered for a moment until your stomach decided for you by making a growling sound.

"Yes..." You said slightly embarrassed. A downturned smile spread on your face.

"Where would you like to go?" You were about to respond when your phone started ringing, a cheery pop song blared from your charm-adorned handbag.

"Sorry, one sec," you reached into the bag. Shoving all sorts of things around to get to your phone. "It's my mom, you pick I'll be back in a minute!" You stepped off to the side and answered the phone.

Damian huffed at the feeling of his empty hand as he began to scan the mall food court up ahead.

'Burger King, McDonalds, Stephanie and Cass, KFC...' He paused his train of thought. Oh shit, he didn't realise Stephanie and Cass would be here and walking towards you both, unaware of your presence.

"Mom, I promised I'd be back home for dinner. 6:30, I know," You laughed at her antics before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

You didn't get the chance to turn around as your hand was being grabbed and you were getting dragged away.

"Damian?" you looked at the boy as he swerved between the crowds. "Is everything alright?" You watched as he occasionally looked behind the two of you. Taking a small glance back you spotted two girls you recognised from a photo he'd shown you.

"Hold on, is that Damian?" Stephanie stopped Cass in her tracks and pointed ahead. Cass looked up from her milkshake and saw the head of her little brother.

"We should go say hi! Wonder what he's doing in the mall?" Stephanie had taken Cass' arm and was pulling her towards Damian, both unaware that he wasn't alone and trying to get away from them.

Damian noticed the two getting closer and took a sharp left turn into a random clothing store. He used the clothing racks to hide from the persistent girls following them.

"Why's he gone in here?" Stephanie wondered out loud. "It's a women's clothing store." Cass shrugged her shoulders as her mind went to Dick's theory on Damian trying out more feminine things, and being ashamed of it, after the perfume incident. She thought the theory was ridiculous.

Cass looked around quickly to see if the shop was even worth spending time in, but nothing was to her taste. As she scanned the store she spotted what looked to her brother... and a girl? Sneaking into the dressing rooms.

'No, it couldn't be,' Cass thought to herself watching the figure of a boy that looked exactly like her brother disappear into a dressing room with a really pretty girl. 'Could it?'

You and Damian crammed into a little dressing room with all your shopping bags.

"So..." You began, turning to the mirror to fix any out of place hairs.

"We'll have to wait a while, they are unfortunately persistent."

"How long?"

"I do not know, beloved," He shoved your shopping bags into the corner. "Longer than you'd like, I'd imagine."

You stood in silence for a moment.

"I can think of a couple ways to pass the time..." You turned away to prevent yourself from laughing at Damian's flushed face.

3 months ago...

Damian and Jason had been giving each other a hand during patrol that night. Damian was chasing some low-life thugs and they managed to slip out of his grasp and dash all the way to Crime Alley. Thankfully Jason was there and helped him catch the guys. After dealing with them Damian stood up, a vibration surged through his pocket. He reached in about to immediately hit decline. Why would he answer the phone on patrol? That's what he thought until your face graced his peripheral. He quickly turned his back towards his brother. It was a photo of you and your closets friends. (Obviously the contact picture was only focused on you). It was taken on your birthday. You were all dolled up in makeup and a gorgeous outfit you'd insisted you needed his opinion on before going out. He was about to answer when, "Who's that?" Jason called out from behind.

'Oh Shit.' Damian thought to himself. There are so many excuses to use when your brother smells your girlfriend's perfume on you, so many ways to hide from your sisters when out on a date. How does one convince Red Hood that 'Beloved <3' isn't what it looks like? That its no one special on the other end of the line?

"No one," Damian tried his luck with lying anyways. "Mind your business!" He possessively clutched the phone to his chest. Hiding the caller ID and contact photo. That was only for him to see.

Jason stared at him through his helmet, "Uh-huh, sure," Damian could feel the bullshit look on Jason's face behind the helmet. "No one at all."

"No one for you to concern yourself with Todd, mind your business." Damian stuttered out sharply before disappearing into the night. Away from prying eyes.

Jason couldn't help but grin as he watched his brother run off, phone clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

"Idiot."

Damian had perched himself on top of an apartment building. He brought his phone in front of him and called his last missed call. You. He sat in the silence of dawn, only the buzz of his voice and the tires of some earlier commuters to be heard. Until he heard the sweet voice of his favourite person.

"Hello? Damian?" God, how did your voice sound so angelic this early in the morning, through a phone speaker?

"Good morning, beloved," He sighed contently, "Apologies for not picking up when you first called I was finishing up something." He felt at peace hearing your voice and the ruffle of your bedsheets. Even if it was only through a phone and not in person. It would do.

"Oh sorry!" You whisper yelled. The sun was only rising, your family were probably still asleep. "I didn't mean to bother, we can talk la-"

"Nonsense, you are certainly not bothering me, beloved. I'm more than happy to make time for you at any hour of the day or night." He cut you off. It was silent on your end of the line for a few moments. A couple of giggles and some sheet rustling could be heard. Damian could see it in his mind you going slightly rouge and hiding your face in the pastel duvet.

"It's just," you trailed off, "I had a stupid nightmare and I couldn't go back to sleep."

"If my presence is what you seek in order to feel safe than I will always be available." You smiled at that looking out the window by your bed.

"I will be there."

"What!?" You shot up in your bed, shrinking in on yourself when you realised how loud you were being.

"Damian, there's no need-"

"Yes there is very much need," You sighed at his persistence. "You require my comfort to fall back asleep, I know how much you enjoy your weekend sleep." You fell back k down into tour bed with a smile. He was so right. You loved your weekend lie ins.

"I am finished patrol so I will make my way to you."

"Okay, I'll see you in a few, my windows open," you bit your bottom lip for a moment, hesitation filling you, "I love you." There was silence on the other end of the line until the call ended. You looked at your phone in confusion worried you'd accidentally hit the red button or if Damian had decided he actually hated you. A shadow replacing the sunrise light that had been beaming onto you stopped your train of thought. You looked up to see Robin perched on your windowsill. Strategically, as to not damage your flower boxes.

"I love you too." He whispered before he crawled through the window, landing on your bed.

2 months ago...

Damian was sat in the back of the Batcave as Bruce and Tim discussed something about an ongoing case. He was cleaning one of his katanas. Deciding it was clean enough he picked it up and set it to the side. A small sound of metal hitting metal made the two detectives perk up. The sound came again as Damian picked up another blade to clean. Tim turned his head ever so slightly to glance at the boy and in the corner of his eyes, he spotted it. A small ring on his left hand. He gave a small glance to Bruce, who was still staring at the screen before him, but he could tell the scrunch of his face wasn't from the confusion of the case. Damian completely unaware of his brother's and father's change in demeanour continued to clean his blades. The metal ring subtly caught the light as he carefully rubbed the cloth against the sharp edge of the blade. A gentle smile graced his face as he stared at the ring. His mind wandered back to the day he gave you the promise ring. He knew you'd love it but he was still so nervous. He would rather die than let anyone know that though. Little whispers snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up he spotted Tim leaning in towards Bruce muttering something.

"Can I say something?" Tim questioned in a hushed teasing tone.

"No, you can not." Bruce sternly replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh come on," Tim looked from him to his brother out of the corner of his peripheral. "You can't not be curious about what's up with him?"

Bruce gave the young detective a quick glance before returning to the screen with CCTV footage playing.

"Of course I am, but it is none of our business." He said curtly. "Damian is very capable and I trust that he is independent and mature enough to do as he pleases."

Tim sighed in response to that. He'd have to lay off on the teasing for now, but just know that when he gets a moment alone with his little brother he will become the biggest pain in the ass.

Damian couldn't help but let his smile grow back after hearing his father's words. He spun the ring around his finger for a brief moment before setting his blades aside and exiting the cave.

1 month ago...

Another rare day where you manage to spend the day in Wayne Manor. Today was much easier than all the others. Dick was in his apartment with Kori'ander, Bruce and Tim were away on company business, the girls were all out, and Jason was god knows where. You didn't really care if they were in the Manor or on the other side of the world at this moment. You were sprawled on top of your boyfriend in his bed. Nothing could possibly ruin this day for you. Your head was rested on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat. His hand held yours and the other played with the ends of your hair. You both layed in the silence of the day as you quite literally watched paint dry. Over on his desk, which was supposed to be used for homework and not art or makeup, like it you had previously been using it for. Two small paintings lay drying; one of batcow and the other of a sunset. A huff of laughter from the chest beneath you made you look up.

"What?"

"There is paint on your face, beloved."

You shot up from his body and where about to run into the bathroom. Damian gently grabbed into your face. The red paint streaks where mostly dry now so he was easily able to rub them off. Even when your face was paint free, you both sat there, your face in his hands and his thumb caressing your skin.

"You are so beautiful, Habibti." You stared with a lovestruck look right back at his lovesick one. He leaned in a little closer.

"May I?" He asked, ever the gentleman. You nodded.

He brought his lips to yours not caring about the sticky sensation of your lip gloss. You sighed into the kiss and brought your hands up to rest of his. They slid down and held onto his wrists. Neither of you would get Iver this feeling. The butterflies, your lips on eachother, the fear that enters your body when you hear a knock of the door. Oh my god. You immediately pulled away.

"Master Damian," Alfred's muffled voice came through the door. "Would like some cookies? They are freshly baked."

"No thanks, Pennyworth." Damian quickly replied. There was an uncomfortable silence for a second before-

"Would your friend like some?" Both of your eyes bulged out and your jaws dropped.

"I won't tell, no need to fret!"

You looked to Damian nervously, who nodded his head, telling you that Alfred really meant what he said.

"Yes please!" You piped up. You could smell those cookies and my god, you wanted them so bad.

"Very well, I'll prepare them and some tea." Alfred laughed before heading back to the kitchen.

Present...

Yesterday had been another one of those rare days where nobody was in the manor, so you had come over and Damian persuaded you to stay the night.

You sleepy made your way into the bathroom attached to his room. Deciding it was time to get ready for the day. Your eyes scanned the counter top covered in skincare and makeup products left here overtime by you. You couldn't help but smile thinking of all the smalls ways you two had been intertwining your life's. You had things in his place, he had things in yours, he carried hair ties for you and you carried bandages for him. It was simple and sweet. It got you thinking about why he didn't want you to meet his family as you did your skincare. He'd met yours, plenty of time at that. He'd spent the night, he'd had dinner with them, hell you're mom bought him an Easter egg! You swore up and down to yourself he didn't have any problem with you or his family. Now picking up your primer you couldn't help but be confused. Why is he so desperate to hide you and your relationship? You shook the thoughts away when you spotted your frown in the mirror, now just focusing on getting ready.

An hour had passed and Damian was awake. He could hear you in the bathroom as he rolled over in the now cold bed.

"Babe, can you help me?" You softly called out as you nudged the bathroom door open. "I can't get my earing in." You informed with you hands at your ear.

He got up from his bed a maneuvered you back into the bathroom, where the lighting was good, shutting the door behind him.

"I can't get it through, it shouldn't be closed up though!" You handed him the earing and stood beside him under the ceiling light.

He tilted your head and began what would be an annoyingly long process of trying to perform the simple task of getting a piece of metal through a hole.

Alfred was in the middle of cooking breakfast and asked Dick to go wake his brother up. Unaware that you were still here. You usually snuck out earlier but you're phone was dead when you woke up so you never checked the time.

Dick trecked up the stairs, past Jason leaving his room and towards Damian's. He softly knocked on the door before swinging it open.

"Uh, Jason?"

"What?" Jason grumbled at the end of the hallway.

"Who's phone is that?" Dick asked pointing towards a phone that definitely wasn't his brother's. Unless he'd taken a sudden liking to charms and bows.

Jason sleepy stared at Dick until the image of Damian's phone with a picture of a girl and suspicious caller ID appeared in his head. Now he was sprinting towards his brother's room.

Jason and Dick stood in the doorway examining the unknown phone plugged in and rested on the nightstand. Jason gasped and pointed at a woman's bag, say on the floor, leaning against the desk leg. Dick dramatically took hold of Jason and put a finger to his lips. He then pointed to the bathroom door.

"Damian it's fine!"

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"It's not going to hurt, babe I promise!"

A girl? Babe!?

This had Dick and Jason turning to eachother, shock written all over their faces as they sprinted to the stairs.

Bruce, Tim, Stephanie and Cass were all sat at the dining table. Bruce was reading the newspaper, Tim was chugging a coffee, Stephanie was talking to Cass while they waited for the other three boys. Same as every morning. At least it was, until-

"Damian has a girlfriend!" Dick shouted like he was the final girl just after discovering who the killer was.

"She's upstairs!" Jason skidded into the kitchen behind him.

Alfred froze, as he watched Tim and Stephanie sprint faster than he'd ever seen before. Dick and Jason following right behind them. Cass subtly followed. She didn't want to be nosy but... she needed to know! Her suspicions were driving her crazy ever since the mall. Bruce sighed, folding up the newspaper and setting it down before heading up to Damian's room as he heard screaming.

You were mortified. Six people just barged into the room and saw you in your pyjamas; your underwear and one of Damian's shirts. You screamed and immediately bolted back into the bathroom. You were panicking. Damian didn't want you to meet his family and you just did it in the worst way possible. Half naked and screaming. What a way to meet the future in-laws. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you slid to the floor. Atleast your hair and makeup look good.

"Drake, what the fuck!?" Damian yelled.

"Hold on, why am I the only one getting yelled at?" Tim retorted.

Stephanie nudged his shoulder. "You scared her stupid!"

"We barged in at the same time!"

"You're a guy!"

Damian stood there with a frustrated expression watching Tim and Stephanie bicker and the rest of his family pile in. Cass's small smile at him help him relax a little, but only a little. And just for a moment, cause then Dick and Jason piped up.

"So..." Dick began. "Who is she?"

"None of your business."

"That's what you told me when someone named 'beloved' called you on patrol." Jason chimed in with a teasing tone. Damian could only stare at more frustration than before. His cheeks began to flush and that just passed him off more. Stephanie wasn't helping with her "awww's in the background. Damian was about to scream for them to all get out, get physical with Tim if he needed to.

“Damian.”

Everyone turned towards the stern, deep voice in the doorway. Bruce stepped forward to his youngest son.

"Father," Damian started a tangent before Bruce even had a chance to say anything more. "Her name is Y/n. We have been dating for 8 months, and I love her. No matter your approval or disapproval I will continue to see her." Damian informed his father in a stern and determined tone.

“If it’s alright with you I would like to meet her. Properly.” He requested. “I believe the rest would also like to meet her.” Damian didn’t know how to respond. He thought his father would have a bigger reaction to lying and sneaking around with a girl. Especially considering the occupations of everyone present.

“Of course only if she’s alright with it as well.” Bruce added with a light smile.

"Allow me to check." Bruce ushered all of his children out of the young boy's room.

Once they’d all left he slid into the bathroom where you were still sat on the floor.

“Habibti,” he called out softly. “We don’t have to go down there if you don’t want to.” He knelt in front of you.

“No! I want to, I’d love to meet your family.” You countered quickly. “Only if that’s okay with you, I don’t want to overstep.”

“Whatever you want, beloved.” He said with a smile identical to his father’s.

You were now dressed and sat beside Damian at the Wayne dining table. All of the Wayne's were staring at you. It wasn't daggers or disgust. You'd figured it was curiosity.

"How the hell did you even meet?" Jason asked the first question.

"School." Damian answered coldly.

"No offence, but I didn't expect you to end up with someone so..." Dick trailed off as he swung is fork around as if it would conjure up the words he wad looking for.

"Girly?" You suggested. "I get it, you probably thought he'd end up with someone like yourselves."

Everyone at the table felt a bead of sweat drop from their foreheads.

"What?" Stephanie asked with a nervous laugh.

"She knows." They all snapped their necks to look at Damian and then their father at the head of the table.

He sighed, "Damian I trust that you thought about all this before giving us away?"

"Of course I did. Do not suggest that they are not trustworthy." Bruce and Damian had a bit of a stare off. While that was happening Stepahine had kicked Tim out of his chair beside you.

"You're hair is so gorgeous! What do you use?" She asked as she held a strand in her palm.

"Oh, I cannot think of the name! But there's some up in Damian's bathroom, I'll show it to you."

Dick leaned over the table, "I thought I was going crazy when I started smelling perfumes off him!" You laughed at his comment.

"What do you use? It smells similar to the one Kori uses."

You began to chat with the vigilantes about all sorts of things. Telling Cass and Stephanie about the products you use and where you shop, listening to stories about Dick and Kori. Jason chimed in with a few book recommendations and reviews after learning you like to read. Quickly you found yourself having conversations with all the Waynes like it was as easy as breathing. As you were laughing at some Internet joke you and Tim were discussing, you spotted a poute on your boyfriend's face. And it finally clicked.

Damian Al Ghul was jealous of his own family.

He kept your relationship a secret and avoided introducing you for so long because he didn't want them to steal your attention.

You couldn't help but smile at that.

A/N: First piece published!! I welcome back feedback with open arms. Please just don't take this opportunity to be rude. I'd love to know if I write ooc or if my grammars incorrect, ect.

Shout out to Damian Al Ghul my gatekeeping king🙏

[its-me-em28]

[juicykvnture]

MONEY HONEY

Bruce Wayne x camgirl!reader

tags: AFAB reader, brief age gap mention (reader is in her 20s), Bruce is low-key a little jealous and down bad, nicknames (sweetheart/baby) mutual masturbation, praise kink, webcam use, phone sex,

a/n: the DILF propaganda has gotten to me..

wc: 2.7k | part 2 | masterlist

Your whole camgirl side gig isn’t exactly something you shout from your rooftops about. But, it keeps your lights on, your ass in a nice apartment, and your feet in Louboutin heels.

You don’t tend to tell your friends what you’re at. Respectfully, that isn’t their issue. Weekly dinner reservations at Nobu and bottles of Dom Perignon should be enough to keep their running mouths occupied.

You have your own rules, you stick by them.

You pick and approve who watches your content, you pick how far you go, grateful that you’re in the position to do so. You don’t meet them in real life.

All you are is a fantasy to them, and you keep it that way.

You’re a pretty girl on a screen with a penchant for men with big bank accounts and more money than they know what to do with.

One of those men just so happens to be Bruce.

He came across you by accident, really. It was a couple of months ago by now.

You didn’t really know him, you didn’t really care. You never saw his face or heard his voice, all you saw was his money. He was always there when you did your regular streams, silent apart from hefty donations and notifications that he’d just ordered sets upon sets of pretty, lacy lingerie to your p.o box.

It’s started to shift recently. More money coming into your account, more matching sets, a new ring light since you’d grumbled under your breath about yours not working properly at one point, flowers.

Fuck, when’s the last time a guy even got you flowers?

He always made sure to outdo your other followers - tips of ten dollars sometimes, a twenty or a twenty five here and there. That’s cute and all, but to him? literal pocket change.

Not good enough in his books, not good enough for a pretty girl like you.

He has no reason to hate it, he’s just as bad as they are. But the green-eyed monster on his shoulder just has to prove he’s better, sending hundreds when he felt like it, just to watch your eyes widen.

Then came the messages.

They were few and far between but felt different than the thirsting, basement-dwelling idiots who usually drooled over your streams.

He kept it classy, always.

Less of the “show me your tits” and more of the “you look gorgeous, the pink lace suits you” followed by an “I’m sending you the blue next”

You like it, more than you’d really want to admit to yourself.

He likes it too. He likes watching your pretty face, your lips curling up into a soft smile when you open up all of his gifts, showing them off on your streams. He doesn’t mind that everyone watching can see them, it doesn’t matter. It matters that he bought those for you and that he’s the one getting his own personal photoshoot later.

You watch notifications pop up on your laptop with a sigh, your inbox flooded with messages, and questions from anything from where you live to why the hell you’re not streaming tonight.

You’re not streaming tonight cause you’re fucking tired, a girl needs her rest.

You’re just gonna take a few photos for your number one fan and call it a day. There’s a bottle of Chardonnay and half a pint of Ben and Jerry's in your freezer just calling your name.

As you fix up your nightgown, reaching over to turn off your laptop, a notification catches your attention.

@BRUCE_W: Hope you got the flowers in one piece, no stream this evening I take it?

You blink, staring at your laptop for a moment.

You hesitate, your nails dragging over your keyboard.

@CHAMPAGNESWEETHEART: I wasn’t planning to, but for you I could ;)

Three little dots come and go at the bottom of your laptop screen, like he’s typing and then pausing once more.

In reality, he’s just trying to get his words together, trying not to come across as weird. He doesn’t really know how to do this kind of stuff. He’s out many women through his mattress in real life, but this whole online thing? fuck no.

@BRUCE_W: is it alright if I call you?

You don’t usually take private calls. They take away both time and money from regular streams you could be doing.

But this is Bruce of all people. He’s solely responsible for the overpriced wine you’re sipping on and the LaPerla set you’re lounging in. You didn’t even know underwear could cost that much..

@CHAMPAGNESWEETHEART: gimme two seconds ;)

That sudden, random burst of confidence has you piling on another layer of mascara for good measure, pushing your tits up a little in reflection of your screen before cringing slightly - he’s just another guy, it doesn’t matter.

@BRUCE_W IS CALLING

You push your laptop down your mattress slightly, pulling your robe open a little more, just so he has some more cleavage to look at since he pays you so good.

You lean over, accepting the call and holding in a breath.

It goes unsaid, the sight of this Bruce guy before you isn’t entirely what you expected.

He’s much hotter, much older than you thought he would be.

It kinda clicks now, the fact that even in your comments he’s had more gentlemanly manners than your other regulars.

Luckily, you like your men like you like your wine, rich and.. slightly older.

Perhaps it’s the salt-and-pepper stubble or just the way they carry themselves, relaxed like they’ve done this all a million times before.

You observe him for a moment longer, noticing the dark room he’s in, his tie loose around his neck as he adjusts his own laptop.

He grips his whiskey glass a little tighter, words escaping him for a moment as he eyes you before offering a curt nod.

“Hey,” He seems a little uncertain at first, taking a drawn-out swig of his whiskey before leaning back in his chair.

“You're new to this I take it?” you offer a small smile into your hand, watching the screen from under your lashes.

“Wow, I thought I was subtle.” Bruce murmurs, setting his glass down for a moment.

He’s cursing himself silently. He’s never had any problem talking to women in his whole life. It’s ridiculous how a pretty girl on his screen has rendered him speechless- you’re what? twenty-something? It’s fucking embarrassing.

He can’t help letting his eyes wander down his laptop screen, shifting his thighs slightly when he sees the set he got you peeking out from under your robe.

“You look gorgeous, the pink set is to your taste, I take it?”

“It’s my favourite so far,” you nod, pushing your robe down your shoulders slightly, just a little bit, just to tease.

He makes a mental note to buy you more, to send them to you in every single colour he can get his hands on. He’s trying not to spiral thinking about it actually, imagining you modelling every single thing he wants to dress you up in.

But now just isn’t the time to fantasise about that stuff, not when he has you on the screen in front of him. Just for him, for once.

“How does this work?” He clears his throat, setting the glass down and trying to ignore the way his slacks feel tighter.

“However you want it to work.”

Your answer has his hands sliding down to rest on his thighs, leaning back in his chair.

You leaving it up to him like that has a way of making his spine tingle, he can tell you’re a little bit tired at least. It’s nice actually, it doesn’t feel like you’re putting on as much of an act.

"Can you talk to me first, for a little bit?" He managed to reply, his eyes taking in the view in front of him.

“Please?”

“Anything you wanna hear about?”

“Not really,” he swallows, his eyes fixed on your cleavage.

“I just like your voice. Is that a strange thing to say?”

You feel your cheeks heating up slightly, shaking your head as you pull your robe open by another little fraction.

“No, not at all.”

You can tell he doesn’t want this to feel like a transaction.

After a few minutes of back and forth, a lot of his initial hesitation has dissipated. You do genuinely seem like a sweet girl. He likes the way you act on your streams anyway, but since he’s technically calling you after hours it feels a lot more intimate, real even.

“Tired?” He rasps softly into his glass, arching a brow when he hears you trailing off slightly, watching you move to lean back against your plush headboard.

“A little."

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to keep you up too long, sweetheart.”

You’re not one to really care for pet-names that randos on the internet give you but good God, does that make you feel things.

It has you pressing your thighs together, more than it fucking should.

“I don’t mind.” You murmur, thankful that he isn’t there in real time to notice the way your cheeks heat up.

Seeing your reaction made his eyes soften.. and his cock throb a little, letting out a small sigh as if he were relieved, glad he isn’t bothering you. He didn't realise how on edge he was until you took that weight off of his shoulders.

"Good." Bruce murmurs, his eyes watching your hands fiddling with the sleeve of that robe, his mind wandering.

"Can I ask you to.. take that off?"

“You can ask for anything you want.” You nod, gently twirling your fingers around the tie of your robe, pulling it open.

Your compliance, along with the sight of the soft lace pressed against your skin has him swallowing, his narrowed gaze roaming over every single contour of your body.

"Good girl." He muttered under his breath. Those two words felt almost foreign to say, but he said it anyway, seeing you like this.

You shouldn’t care. It’s just work.

But fuck, does it feel like more than that.

His hands fidgeted on the arms of his chair, resisting the urge to undo his belt, his cock straining in his slacks getting harder to ignore.

Noticing his discomfort you shift slightly on your bed, running your fingers over the lace of your bra.

“I’m not gonna stop you, you know that?”

Bruce's eyes flickered up to the screen, seeing your small smile, your fingers gently playing with the lace. Those words alone were enough to make his hands immediately move to work on his belt, fumbling with it to take it off before popping the button of his slacks, letting out a groan under his breath.

"I was just... trying to be polite."

Watching him makes you bite your tongue slightly, trying to hide the way you press your thighs together again, your eyes locked on his through the screen as you slowly slide your hand down lower, running your thumb over the bow at the front of your underwear.

“I never asked you to be.”

“Fuck, I feel like I buy you dinner first,” His hands quickly went to the opening of his slacks, not wasting time to pull out his hardening length, giving himself one firm stroke.

Your mouth is agape for a split second, staring at your screen with wide eyes.

It’s just work. None of this is real. None of this matters.

But you know what does matter? The fact you’re wet and can’t even hide it under that thin, pastel pink lace.

"Shit." He murmured, trying to keep his eyes on the screen.

His left hand moved from the armrests to grab at his whiskey to down it in one go, taking in the sight in front him.

"Are you wet, sweetheart?"

“Yeah?” Your nod is less confident than you’d like it to be as you run your fingers over the lace again, letting out a shaky breath. You shouldn’t care - this is literally just part of what you do.

"Take them off for me, baby." He panted out, his dick now straining in his boxers so hard it’s almost painful. His other hand gripped onto his thigh, his fingers digging into his legs to ground himself as much as he could.

"Let me see you."

You’re repeating your mantra over and over in your head. You’ve got zero reason to be as turned on as you are, it’s just work.

But your pussy seems to disagree on that one.

With another nod, you hook your fingers into the thin fabric, gently pulling your underwear down your thighs, the sight making Bruce bite his fist to hold back a groan.

He literally can’t take it anymore. He can’t be polite.

“Holy fuck,” He lets out another groan as he takes himself in his hand, spitting into his palm.

Okay, you liked that more than you should’ve.

"You have no idea how... good you look right now." He rasps out, his head tilting back against his chair.

"All... for me, yeah?" His hand on his thigh moved up to his chest, fumbling the top few buttons on his shirt. He needed to feel a little cooler or he’d have a literal heart attack.

“Yeah,” you manage another nod.

“Spread your thighs, baby. Show me how wet she is.”

Well, now it’s your turn to almost have a heart attack, spreading your thighs open as your fingers curl into your bedsheets.

“There she is, good girl” Bruce moaned under his breath, his hand on his cock starting to move faster.

"Pretty girls... like you.." His tongue came out to swipe at his lips, the sight in front of him making him lose his train of thought, reaching a hand up to loosen his tie.

"They deserve to be taken care of, right?”

“Right,” you echo, unable to hold yourself together at this point, going against your usual logic and reaching your hand down, groaning under your breath at how your body betrays you with how embarrassingly wet you are.

Your arm instinctively goes to drape over your eyes, shaking your head as you mumble something incoherent, your fingers rubbing over your clit.

“No no no, look at me,” Bruce chokes out, biting down on his tie to hold back yet another groan.

“Your hands are mine, alright?”

That makes your head fall forward, your back arching at the thought of it.

“Uhuh,”

You don’t care that you’ve never met him, you don’t care that you probably never will, but fuck, the things you’d let him do to you if you ever did.

He bites his tongue for a moment, brows knitting together as he feels himself starting to leak even more, giving his cock another hard pump.

“But my hands are probably bigger than yours, aren’t they?”

That makes you whine under your breath. You know he’s right and now you can’t get that fucking image out of your head - his large hands holding your thighs open, holding your neck maybe, his fingers in your mouth, his fingers against your pussy-

You’re trying not to drool at the thought of it, it’s not working and he can tell exactly what you’re thinking.

He’s thinking the same thing.

“Poor girl, everyone gets off to you but no one to get you off? You just wanna get fucked, don’t you?”

You can’t tell if he’s being condescending or not - but he likely is.. unfortunately, you like that.

“F-fuck,”

Progress, he’s made you lose your composure and swear. Not so classy now, are you?

Watching your back arch and your fingers move faster when he says that has his mouth falling open, sweat clinging to his chest under his open shirt.

He’s been through enough women to know what it looks like when one’s about to cum, but dear god you might just be the prettiest one he’s ever seen.

It makes him lose his shit altogether actually, a dishevelled mess when he sees your thighs shake, too distracted to realise that he isn’t far behind you, groaning under his breath with his mouth agape as he stares at the mess he’s made of his tailored slacks, chest heaving as his own cum drips down his fist, he’s embarrassed, fumbling with his laptop to shut the screen off.

Jesus Christ, he’s Bruce Wayne. Not some 20-something year old. He’s been around the block! He should be able to do better than this!

It’s like you’re blacked out for a good while, regaining a sense of reality with slick dripping down your thighs as you come down from your high, mascara pooling under your eyes as you stare at a notification on your laptop, making you press your legs together again.

@BRUCE_W: I’m serious, I owe you dinner.

He owes you a lot fucking more than that.

a/n: DILF ERA IS COMING SEND ME INSPO IN MY ASKS I BEGGGG!?!!?? I NEED IDEAS (lmk if u want more Bruce idk??) 🙏 (John Constantine I have my eye on you with ominous intent..)

also wtf thank u for 200 followers I love you!!

part 2

Bruce Wayne m.list

[cranberrv]

dallas bought a lesley gore vinyl just because girly!reader likes her n he’s really down bad

[m1stm3]

mdni!! (ﾟωﾟ)

satoru pauses in the middle of when you’re fucking to squeeze his eyes shut and thank whatever higher beings out there that he has a big dick.

because despite literally being born the strongest, he’d be damned if he couldn’t fuck you the way he does. he could handle living without the six eyes and limitless but not being able to fuck you correctly?? he’d rather drop dead on the spot.

[tempobaekh]

texts with aaron hotchner and his younger unhinged girlfriend

author’s note: i'm considersing making this into like a series because i really fell in love with unhinged reader while making this and the choosing a theme part was so fun!! but anyways let me know if you guys want more of them?? also apart from a mention of reader being short there isn’t any specific appearance i had in mind while making this:)

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[cherrynflowergarden]

dealer!matt x doll!reader headcanons

an; hi babies!!!! i missed y'all sooooo much my tumblr was acting up sorry i wasn't active since forever:( plus my schedule is super hectic w uni and all anyways does anyone know why tumblr is not letting me see my inbox it's been ig around 2 months and i can't check my inbox:((( i'm so sorry if i missed your request or message but believe it's tumblr who wants to keep us away

taglist; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-belle @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf @huffleighpuff @blahbel668 @my-dinos-life-is-good @ssturniolo92 @lilly6110 @lou-larcher5 @arminluvrr @mxryxmfooty @gabri3la-sturns @bellsboops @f1-and-shiz @t1llysblog

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

dealer!matt who thinks doll!reader is genuinely an angel.

dealer!matt who met doll!reader when he was half unconscious and high and seeing doll!reader being concerned and helping him in that state, he quite literally fell in love.

dealer!matt who is in denial of his feelings for doll!reader.

dealer!matt who finally snaps and kisses doll!reader when he saw his client get uncomfortably close to doll!reader.

dealer!matt who will go on dates, buy her gifts, kiss, cuddle, make love, do everything a couple would with doll!reader but still didn't ask her to be his girlfriend.

dealer!matt who calls doll!reader his girl infront of others and would not deny when someone asks if she's his girlfriend.

dealer!matt who acts tough infront of others but is a total softie for doll!reader.

dealer!matt who buys cute bows and accessories for doll!reader all the time.

dealer!matt who wears a matching hello kitty batman bracelet with doll!reader.

dealer!matt who can't get enough of doll!reader's kisses. he will kiss her till her pretty pink lipgloss is transferred to his lips.

dealer!matt who keeps doll!reader's photograph in his wallet as well as his phone.

dealer!matt who loves recieving sweet handmade gifts from doll!reader. he appreciates them so much that sometimes he too makes a quick craft for her.

dealer!matt who is inked and lets doll!reader colour them.

doll!reader has really low pain tolerance which is why she can't get the bow tattoo, so imagine her surprise when dealer!matt gets a small bow tattooed on his bicep. (damn me and who)

dealer!matt who was intimated by doll!reader's closet in the beginning of their relationship. don't get him wrong, he loves her clothes on her so much but he can't help but feel a little insecure seeing her soooo dressed up for him while he's just wearing some normal jeans tshirt.

dealer!matt who takes some time to understand doll!reader likes him the way he is. he doesn't need to change his closest or mannerisms to make her find him attactive.

dealer!matt who quite literally but subtly worships the ground doll!reader walks on.

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

simon 'ghost' riley x girly!innocent!reader..

when he fucks you you get so overwhelmed, ur body raising with goosebumps, ur nipples pert and sensitive as they brush against his scarred tattooed chest. u cry n whine, making small cute gasps everytime he bottoms out into you, drool leaking from ur mouth as ur mascara makes small streaks down ur face.

he alternates between slow n hard thrusts and fast and hard thrusts, his cock making ur tummy flutter as he manhandles u (sort of accidentally, he kind of forgets how much smaller than him u are), he'll stick his thumb in ur mouth, his other fingers grasping onto the side of ur face as he forces you to look up at him with doe eyes. its a sweaty, slippery mess between the two of u as u sniffle, digging ur light-pink polished manicured nails into his bulky biceps, rutting ur hips upward as u now have no control over what ur lower body does. ur swollen button rubbing gently against the dark curls of his lower region.

everything feels so good, ur eyes crossing n closing as u wrap ur arms around him, his scent intoxicating and surrounding you.

when u cum, ur cunt fluttering around his dick, ur hole stretched so wide u can feel him in ur tummy, ur whole body stiffens, and u havent realized that u have not taken a breath yet until simon shushes you through his grunts then runs his large hand along the side of ur torso as a means of trying to calm u--even though his hips are stuttering and hes pounding into you, using u. "breathe, sweet girl, breathe." his voice is strained as he fucks ur hole, ur cunt tightening around him. ur back arches off the mattress, ur breasts rubbing against his chest, furthering ur intense climax as u gasp for air, small sobs escaping ur throat as simon kisses ur neck then ur lips messily, his cock still driving inside of you. he holds u close to him as he teeters off of the edge, ur hips bucking wildly, ur cum dripping onto the sheets underneath you, ur eyebrows pinched upwards as u hug simon closer to ur body. u have never felt anything like this. not before him, at least.

"i got you, baby..I got you," he whispers gruffly, his accent more prominant as he comes, his seed warming ur pussy as he fucks it into u, choking on a moan as he grips ur body closer to his, ramming into u animalistically-- the act of him using u and his fingers bruising ur hips making another wave of ur orgasm rock through ur body, whines and moans leaving ur throat. "that's it..good girll." he whispers, slowing his hips. "did such a good job, didn't you sweet girl? such a good job. 's okay know it's alot.." u slump onto him as u come down from ur high, whining softly as ur drool gets on his shoulder, his rough hands roaming ur body as he gives u lots of kisses, praising u <333

[iamgonnagetyouback]

mattheo gets clingy the second you stop pampering him, demanding kisses mid-makeup routine because apparently, your attention is his favorite luxury

0.5k cw: clingy!mattheo, fluff, possessiveness in the cutest way possible

mattheo riddle is completely infatuated with you, his high-maintenance girlfriend who has him wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. you live for pink, makeup, long nails, and every glamorous touch, and mattheo? he adores it. the upkeep, the attention, the endless pampering—he loves treating you like the princess you are. he proudly carries your bags, ensures your makeup is perfectly stocked, and always knows exactly when it's time for a nail appointment.

but there's one rule. mattheo's just as high maintenance in his own way, only in the form of your undivided attention and affection. the moment you stop pampering him—whether that’s running your fingers through his hair, spoiling him with sweet words, or letting him cling to you like a koala—he turns into the neediest boyfriend alive.

one morning, you’re sitting in front of your vanity, carefully applying lip gloss when mattheo saunters in, his eyes immediately locking on you. his face falls slightly when you don’t greet him with your usual kiss.

“why aren’t you paying attention to me?” he whines, crossing the room in two strides and resting his chin on your shoulder. “i’ve been waiting for my turn for ages.”

you laugh softly, twisting in your chair to face him. “mattheo, i’m just doing my makeup. i’ll give you attention in a sec.”

but that doesn’t fly with him. before you can finish, he’s scooping you up from the chair, plopping down on the bed with you tucked in his arms. he nuzzles his face into your neck, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. “i don’t care about your makeup. i care about you.”

you grin, brushing a hand through his messy curls. “you’re being dramatic. and you act like i don’t give you enough attention, matt."

"because you don’t," he pouted dramatically. "you can’t just look this good and not let me have you all to myself. it's unfair."

you giggled and kissed his cheek, leaving a faint pink lipstick stain. "i’m almost done. what, you miss me already?"

"i always miss you," he mumbled.

“i need my pampering too,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “i can’t function without it.”

you know his antics, but it’s still the cutest thing in the world. you lean down and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “poor baby, did i neglect you?”

he nods, lips pouting in full force. “so much. i don’t know how i’m even surviving.”

you giggle, but comply immediately, peppering kisses across his face until he’s smiling lazily. “better?”

“almost,” he mumbles, pulling you even closer. “don’t leave me.”

"i’m just going to meet up with some friends, matt," you giggled, running your nails lightly through his hair. "i won’t be gone long."

he lifted his head, giving you a pout that was far too cute for someone who looked as dangerous as he did. "i don’t care. i’m coming with you."

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny how much you loved his clinginess. he always wanted to be near you, touching you, even when you were doing something as simple as getting ready. it was endearing, the way he never wanted to be without you.

"fine," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "but only if you promise to behave."

"no promises," he grinned, holding you tighter. "but you’re stuck with me, princess."

and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[hissweetest]

boyfriend!john b is a biter!!! doesn’t matter if it’s during a make out or if you guys are just sitting in each others company. he will bite!!

you two were in the chateau on the couch. everyone seemed to be away today, but out of danger. so perfect opportunity to make out, right?

your hands connected at the back of his head while his hands cupped your cheeks. he was laying on top of you, slowly trailing his kisses away from your mouth and onto your neck. you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, fingers running through his hair.

you were lost in the utter bliss of the feeling. you didn’t know making out could actually feel good until you did it with john b. your thoughts were quickly drawn from your mind when you felt a slightly painful pinch followed by a wet kiss. you tilted your head back up and pushed his head up to meet your gaze.

“did you— did you just bite me?” your words came out through giggles. he didn’t answer for a moment, he kissed your jaw and hummed.

“maybe”

his tone was smug and it only made you wanna laugh more. you couldn’t tell if what he just did was cute or if you were just in the heat of the moment.

no, it was definitely cute. attractive, even. sloppy kisses began to pepper your skin again, the occasional pinch of his teeth and the soothe of his tongue after.

you were so obsessed with him it was insane. it kinda made you wanna bite him back.

[springtyme]

hii sage :) hru? i just found your blog the other day and saw your post about wanting spencer reid reqs/thoughts, and was wondering if you could write a blurb for girly reader who’s dating our favorite nerdy, sweater vest wearing fbi agent dr. reid ofc, hanging out in his apartment and while he’s setting up the board, intent on teaching her how to properly play chess, she surprises him by whipping out her own pink chess pieces. i’m not sure if this would be something you’re interested in writing, if not then i totally understand lol and i hope you have a good day !!

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 ♡

Hi, hun! I'm doing good and hope you're too. This is such a cute scenario, and I had such a good time writing this! ♡

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

You love weekends, always have, always will, but after you started dating Spencer they've only become all the more special to you. This weekend you’re staying over at Spencer's and he teaches you to play chess. Part two 💕

word count: 1.7k

You are slowly pulled out of sleep, the soft mattress cradling your body as you begin to wake. You stretch your limbs, feeling the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the blinds of Spencer’s bedroom.

As you open your eyes, the room comes into focus, familiar and comforting. You take a deep breath, relishing the peaceful moment that only a Saturday morning can bring. With a contented sigh, you sit up, ready to embrace the day. You can hear the sound of Spencer moving around in the kitchen, and a smile tugs at your lips knowing that he’s already awake and starting the day. 

You love weekends, always have, always will, but after you started dating Spencer they’ve just become all the more special to you. Now you spend most weekends over at Spencer’s apartment. It’s the time when you two can finally be together without any distractions or obligations, and nothing else really compares to that.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, the cool hardwood floor sending a shiver up your spine before slipping your feet into your spare pair of slippers that now reside next to Spencer’s bed. As you stand up and stretch once more, you can’t help but feel grateful for the peacefulness of the morning and the presence of Spencer in your life before you tiptoe out into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before joining Spencer in the kitchen. 

The sunlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the room while the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. 

Spencer is standing in the middle of the kitchen, flannel pajama pants, mix matched socks and a cozy sweater on. He looks so pretty, he is wearing his glasses and you feel how your heart flutters by the sight. The golden morning light, lighting up his brown mop of hair creating a warm and inviting halo around his head. As he hums a tune to himself while pouring the coffee into two mugs, you can’t help but smile at how content he looks in this moment. 

You lean against the doorway, watching him with a fondness in your heart before joining him in the kitchen, your pink fluffy slippers padding across the hardwood floor, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your chin against his back.

“Morning, Spence,” you say softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. He jumps slightly at the unexpected embrace, but quickly relaxes into it, leaning back into your touch. 

“Good morning, love,” he replies, his voice still a bit groggy from just waking up. You press a gentle kiss to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his shampoo mixed with the aroma of coffee. Spencer turns around to face you, a soft smile playing on his pretty lips as he gazes into your eyes. 

“You ready to play some chess?” he asks, handing you your mug of coffee. You chuckle softly, knowing how excited Spencer has been for teaching you how to play. 

“I’ll give it my best shot,” you reply, your smile widening as Spencer’s face lights up with excitement. “But I think I’ll need some breakfast first, need that brain food before I can take on the reigning chess champion.”   

Spencer laughs, a sound that warms your heart, as he leads you over to the small table set up in the corner of the kitchen. He pulls out a chair for you, and you sit down, sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful moment with him. As you eat your breakfast, chatting and laughing with Spencer, you can’t help but feel grateful for the simple joy of spending weekends with him. The way he looks at you with adoration, the way he makes you feel special and loved, it’s something you will never take for granted.

After breakfast, you both make your way to the living room, Spencer signaling for you to take a seat on the couch as he pulls out his board from the overstacked bookshelf.  You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, knowing how much he loves sharing his knowledge and skills with you.

“So, chess is all about strategy and planning your moves ahead,” Spencer explains, as he sets the chessboard down at the coffee table. “I’ll show you the basics first, and then we can play a practice game.”

You nod, eager to learn from him. “I’m ready to learn. Teach me, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer chuckles, you know that he secretly loves it when you call him doctor. “Alright, let’s start with the pawns…”

But just as Spencer begins to set up the board while starting to explain the different chess pieces, you jump up from your seat, remembering the little gift you got for yourself the other day. “Wait a minute,” you yell over your shoulder already halfway out of the living room, running into the bedroom to get the little packet out of your weekend bag. A set of 16 perfectly carved chess pieces, the same shade as blooming cherry blossoms, each one adorned with little crowns.  

As you run back into the living room and set the pieces down on the coffee table, Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Oh wow, those are beautiful,” he exclaims, reaching out to pick up one of the pieces and inspect it closely. “Where did you get these?” 

You settle back down on the couch next to him, crossing your legs under you, a smile playing on your lips. “I saw them at a shop I was in the other day, and I just knew I had to get them.” You grin mischievously. “I thought they might make learning more fun. Plus, who says chess can’t be girly?”

You don’t tell him why you were in the shop to begin with. His birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks, the first one after the two of you got together, and you have been wracking your brain, trying to think of a good gift for him. You had finally come up with the perfect idea. You’re going to get him a new chessboard, a real pretty one. You had found a place where you could get one handcrafted, and you had been in their shop to order it, it is going to have his initials carved on the side and a beautiful design, including handmade pieces to go with it. 

It is why you had asked him to teach you to play. You know you’ll never be as good as him, but you want to be able to spend time with him at things he enjoys. You’re so excited to give him his new set, he deserves pretty things. He really is the best boyfriend in the world, so compassionate and understanding , always patient and kind. 

He had been so insecure when you first started dating, he didn’t think that he was good enough for you, that he was too weird or too much. But oh, how wrong he was. You couldn’t imagine anyone better for you than Spencer. He had first thought that you had been joking when you had first told him how you felt about him, that a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy like him. But you had shown him time and time again just how much he means to you, and slowly but surely, he had started to believe it himself. You love making him feel special, loved, and appreciated because that’s exactly what he does for you every single day.

As Spencer sets up the pink chess pieces on the board, you can see the excitement in his eyes. “You never cease to surprise me, you know?

You shrug nonchalantly, a smile tugging at your lips. “What can I say? I like keeping you on your toes,” you tease, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. Spencer’s smile widens at your gesture, a warmth spreading through his chest at the affectionate gesture, cupping your cheek as you pull away and captures your lips in a soft and tender kiss. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Spencer whispers, his eyes shining with adoration as he gazes at you. You feel your heart swell with love, knowing that you have found someone who truly appreciates and cherishes you for who you are. 

“I could say the same about you, Spence,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity, before leaning in to plant another kiss on his soft lips before finally pulling away. 

Spencer’s eyes shine with love and adoration as he gazes at you, his hand reaching to cup your cheek again. “Thank you for being in my life,” he replies softly, his words carrying a depth of emotion that leaves you breathless. “I never thought I would find someone like you.”

His words resonate deep within your heart, filling you with warmth and a profound sense of happiness.

You gaze into Spencer’s eyes, feeling the depth of emotion between you both. “I love you, Spence,” you say softly, your voice filled with love and sincerity. 

Spencer’s gaze softens, his eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. He reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, a gesture that speaks volumes without the need for words. “I love you too,” he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and sincerity.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft morning light and the comforting presence of each other, you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love.

“So you’re not gonna be mad when I kick your ass in chess?” you tease, a playful grin on your face, knowing damn well that he is going to deck you.

Spencer chuckles, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he finishes setting up the board, your pink pieces opposing his. “Oh, it’s on,” he replies, his competitive nature coming to the surface with a cheeky smile. 

You can’t wait to show him the other thing you got yourself. A new set of lingerie waiting in your bag, a matching lacey set in the same pink shade as your new chess pieces, just waiting to be revealed to him later that night.

But for now, you’re content to just enjoy the simple joy of spending a peaceful Saturday morning with the man you love, playing chess and basking in each other’s company. 

[unreasonablerobin]

PUCKER UP!

Damian Alg Ghul x Girly!Reader

Synopsis: It's hard to believe this cold, ruthless assassin would let someone even think of putting eyeshadow on him... not after they found out about you.

W.C: 3.0k

Tags: Fluff ♡, some brief mentions of blood/injury, smau

"Damian, are you wearing," Stephanie paused. "Polish?"

Tim looked up from the computer in record speed at the question. His brother, demon child, wearing nail polish? Whatever direction this conversation was about to go he needed to be involved.

"Don't be ridiculous Brown." Damian spat back.

"Very defensive for a supposedly innocent man." Tim quirked a teasing brow. Damian's scowl deepened at the sight

"And the questions have only begun!" Stephanie added with a clasp of her hands. Damian's tormentors took a deep breath in preparation.

"What's with you smelling so good recently?"

"Why do you have specks of glitter on your face?"

"How are your hands soooo soft?"

"I really need you to be honest with me on this one Damian," Stephanie said rather sternly. A serious expression on her face and a finger pointed at Damian.

Okay, that made him a tad nervous. Is something wrong with Stephanie? Did he upset her in some way?

"How are you glowing?"

What.

"You're a vigilante! You barely sleep and spend your days and nights sparring! You're skin should be awful, you should reak of sweat!"

"Wow, thank you." Damian deadpanned and Tim chuckled.

"But you're not! You're..." She swished her hands around trying to find the word

"Radiant!"

"How'd you do it?" She plopped herself into a desk chair. It skid across the floor a little closer to Tim's from force of impact. She stared in awe waiting fir her answers. Damian sighed, really not wanting to tell them about probably your most common date; spa and makeup nights. Self care nights as you called them.

This morning...

Frantic footsteps echoed through the walls of your home as you scurried around trying to get everything you needed. Picking up makeup products just to drop them remembering that you already had it over at the manor. Your hair was somewhat done, you were dressed and had all your jewelry on. So at the very least you looked presentable.

'What else do I need?' Your eyes scanned the now messy bedroom, you'd have to clean it when you get back. A ring from the doorbell had you rushing down the stairs.

'Doesn't matter haven't the time for anything else." You flopped down onto the bench by the front door and grabbed your favourite shoes, chucking them on as quick as possible. After taking a deep breath you slipped out the door.

"Hello Alfred!"

"Good morning Ms. Y/n," Alfred greeted with a smile. "May I take your bag?"

"Oh, thank you!" He took your bag from you and opened the car door. You always forget that Alfred actually does butler things and isn't just a member of the Wayne family.

The seat belt clicked and you gave it a quick tug to make sure it was secure. Can't risk having anything happen to this pretty face!

The car came to a slow stop at the tall, metal gates leading to the Wayne Manor. You'll never get over how beautiful Damian's home is. The gates opened slowly. The grande and detailed architecture loomed before you as you stepped out at the steps to the front door. Alfred handed you your bag and headed up the steps to open the manor door.

It was a magical feeling everything you came here. The manor always smelt so clean, but rich, and yet cosy.

"Y/n!" A voice boomed from around the corner of the entrance. It was Dick.

"It's nice to see you again." He leaned in a gave you side hug.

"It's nice to see you too!" You reciprocated. "How are you?"

"I've been good, what about yourself?"

"Eh, alright. School has me busy."

"Yeah I imagine. Damian's been swamped with assignments."

"Beloved." Damian called from the top of the stairs before he made his way down. You met him at the last step. He took your bag from you and turned away.

"Come on." He began to head back up the stairs and to his bedroom.

"You're a real romantic, you know that Damian." Dick deadpanned at his little brother's actions. You laughed to yourself as you followed Damian.

Damian sat on his bed, scribbling some notes down, whilst you took up the space at his desk. He has a perfectly good bathroom with a mirror, but you choose to use his desk and your compact mirror. Simply so you can stay in the same room as him. If you hadn't already set yourself and your products up he would've offered to do his work in the bathroom, on the floor beside you. It's inefficient but it's with you.

He looked up and realised you were almost done. You were finishing up your mascara. All that was left was your lips. Remembering he was in possession of one of your lip glosses he reached into his bedside locker.

"You're lips gloss, beloved." He called and stretched his hand out with the clear and silver container rested in his palm.

"Thank you!" You shuffled over in his desk chair. After snatching your lip gloss you took a moment to stare.

"You have very nice lashes." Damian stared back in confused silence for a second before responding.

"Thank you."

"I should do your makeup!" You gasped.

"Absolutely not."

"Oh come on!"

"No."

"Babe please!" You begged as you hopped onto the bed beside him with a pout. He quietly examined your face. Several beats of silence passing before he spoke with a sigh. He was going to regret this.

"Fine."

He just couldn't say no. I mean, how could anyone say no to a smile like yours? That gorgeous toothy, smile that makes him weak in the knees. You could be dripping head to toe in blood and he still wouldn't be able to deny your heart of what it desires. So here he was, hands settled on your thighs, occasionally leaving to grab some sort of product for you. You were working your magic, eyes locked onto his tanned face. One hand was settled under his jaw, hoping his face up and your dominant hand held a small brush coated in concealer. He had learnt that this was possibly your least favourite step, after eyeliner, carving eyebrows. No matter what they just never seemed to be even.

You leaned back and held his face infront of you like it was your newest oil painting.

"Damn, I'm cooking so hard right now." You smirked at the sight. Symmetrical eyebrows.

"You're not cooking beloved, we are not even on the kitchen."

"No! I mean," you cut yourself off laughing. Damian didn't spend much time on social media. He just didn't find any entrainment in it. "It's slang for doing something really well."

You stretched your back and took another moment to simply look at him. My god was he beautiful. You don't know how you managed to bag someone so handsome and so repulsed by everybody.

"Beloved?"

"Hm?"

"You're staring." Warmth rushed to your face at the comment. To be fair, you were staring, hard. It's not your fault though! He's just so gorgeous!

...

"It's not fair!" You suddenly shouted.

"What do you need such nice brows and lashes for?" Your hands wildly gestured towards his face. He didn't flinch at any of your antics. Just quirked the corner of his lips up.

"For you to admire, I suppose."

"You better not get them seared off during some misson." You warned.

"I'll cry!"

"Please don't cry over something so miniscule." Damian pleaded with some concern. You actually crying at the sight of him with his eyebrows and lashes seared off is not an impossible scenario.

He sighed in contentment as your train of thoughts slowed and you picked the makeup brush back up. Your hands cupped his face again and he subconsciously leaned into it. He remembers the gallery of texts that had been exchanged that eventually led to these spa and makeup dates.

1 month ago...

He lazily held his phone above his face. His costume was torn up and discarded on the floor of his bedroom. He was lying to you again. Patrol was not fine. He was not fine. A concerningly deep gash was hidden under some already bloody wrapped bandages on his upper left arm. He had not gotten a wink of sleep in two days. He was exhausted, in every possible way. But you sending pictures of your cat in hopes it would cheer him up, really did work. You couldn't make the physical pain of his injury and exhaustion go away but you could always take it off his mind.

The morning sunlight shined through your open window. You squinted reading the texts from your boyfriend. Sighing, you got up to get ready for the day. You didn't know what to do. Damian was always drained from his vigilante activities and there's no way you can persuade him to take more days off than Bruce already forces him to take. The big mirror on the bathroom wall reflected you thinking face, that was also covered in toothpaste. As you spat it out an idea came to mind. Skincare, snacks, and time together. That's what makes you relax, surely it would help Damian out too. You're a genius.

The summer air was warm against your skin. You opted to walk to the corner store since the weather was so nice. You'll grab some of his favourite snacks and some face masks for you both.

Upon entering the shop, a cool breeze from the air-con and the refrigerated section hit you. It was refreshing. You headed for the snack section picking up some crisps and sweets for you both to share. After scanning the whole shelf of food you nodded in satisfaction at the collection in your arms and made your way to the hygiene section. You nabbed some deodorant and two green tea face masks before going to the counter.

$19.50, the economy's gone crazy.

The handles of the paper bag crumpled in your grasp. Damian would've given out to you for texting while walking, but he wasn't here so it was fine. You pulled out your phone, it's charming swinging about, and sent him a text, inviting him over for the night.

That evening...

You forgot to mention that the snacks you got earlier included face masks. He needed a break. A moment to relax. What better way than a night with his amazing girlfriend, a cool and hydrating face mask, surrounded by tasty snacks? That sounds like a dream to you. You had all your usual skincare set out on your bathroom countertop. You swayed back and forward awaiting Damian's arrival. You couldn't exactly continue you're routine without your toner. As you plugged your phone in to charge, the sweet chime of your doorbell rang through your home. You padded down the stairs, nearly slipping in your fluffy slippers. The lock was undone and the door was sung open quickly, like it held the cure to all you're problems on the other side. You'd say it did.

"Hi!" Damian had the bag of shopping tucked to the side before the door was even open. He knew you'd jump straight into his arms. It was routine at this point.

"Hello beloved." His greeting was muffled by your shoulder. Damian stepped inside and gently kicked the door shut. A quiet wince escaped him as he dropped you back onto your feet. Unfortunately for him, the noise didn't escape you, but you held your tongue for the moment.

"I got what you asked for and some popcorn," He handed the bag to you and knelt to remove his shoes. "I know you always forget it."

"I knew I forgot something!" You looked down into the bag to see your favourite popcorn. As much as you love it you never remember to buy it.

"Thank you!" A loving peck was place upon Damian's cheek. He gazed down at you as you took his hand, leading him up the stairs and to your bedroom.

He sat himself down on your plushie-infested bed. The pink duvet dipped beneath him. You hummed to yourself as you continued your skincare routine now that you had your toner.

Damian subtly shifted his arm. That gash from last night (this morning?) still hurt like hell. Alfred had stitched and wrapped it up for him. He removed his hoodie to see the bandages had been soaked through with blood. They really needed to be changed.

'I should've done this before I came here.' He internally groaned as he grabbed a box of bandage wraps from his bag.

'Need to be quick.' Damian used a blade he always carried to slice off the dead bandages. He shoved them into the bandage box and made a mental reminder to toss them out later. He didn't like lying to you but he hated seeing you worried more. As time went on Damian found that wrapping a wound is a lot more difficult with one hand.

You re-emerged from the bathroom to see Damian trying to wrap his arm back up as quickly as possible. Old, bloody bandages discarded somewhere he hoped you wouldn't find. He knew if you saw the quantity of blood he'd lost you freak out. More than you were about to.

"Oh my god, Damian!" You yelped. "You said your patrol went fine!" The face masks were abandoned onto your vanity as you bolted over to him.

"This is no big deal Habibti," He groaned as he accidentally grazed his nails across the gash. "I've dealt with worse."

"Just cause you've dealt with worse doesn't mean this is fine!" Damian didn't have the opportunity to rebuttal. His injured arm was being gently cradled in your hand as you gripped the other and dragged him into the bathroom.

"Sit here." You gestured at the closed toilet seat. You began rummaging through your drawers. A bottle of saline solution was in your grasp. You picked up some cotton pads you typically use to clean off your makeup.

"I use this to clean my piercings when they're new. It should be fine to clean around your stitches." You informed him as you poured some onto the cotton pad and leaned forward.

"This'll sting."

"I'll be fine." His body tensed up at the contact of the cold liquid. It did in fact sting, but he was too busy focusing on the smell of your perfume. As you clean his wound he distracts himself from the irritating feeling by gazing at your perfume collection and trying to figure out which one you were wearing. The bang of your small trash can against the wall as you discarded the cotton pads brought him back. You threw out the bandages that he had begun to wrap around the wound a moment ago and grabbed a box of fresh ones. He watched as you carefully wrapped his arm up. You certainly weren't as familiar with the task as he was, thankfully, but you were doing a better job since you had two hands to work with instead of one.

"And, all done!" You sang with pride as you stuck the end of the bandage with a Sanrio plaster.

"Really?"

"It's my personal touch," you placed your hands on your hips. "A reminder of who's always here to take care of you." You finished softly. He couldn't help but let a little small find its way onto his face.

"Thank you, beloved." Damian stood up and glanced at his left arm. If any of his family saw this he wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Wait here!" You scurried out of the room and returned with two packets of face masks in your hands.

"No."

"Oh come on!" You pleaded.

"It'll feel nice, and it'll be fun!" He stared at you slightly displeased.

"I'll give you a kiss?"

"You'd do that anyway, you are my partner."

"I'll give you a lot of kisses." He took in your swaying figure and tight-lipped smile. You desperately him to relax and have a bit of fun with you.

He sighed, "fine."

You hugged him, leaning into his good arm.

"No pictures though."

"Ugh, fine!" You pushed away and propped yourself onto the sink countertop. You giggled to yourself as you opened one of the packs.

"C'mere!" He situated himself between your legs, his hands holding the edge of the counter.

"Put this on." A colourful headband was shoved into his hands as you put your own on. He glanced at you to see if you were serious. All he saw was your giddy face. Reluctantly he put the headband on, pushing his dark hair out of his face.

"You can't touch your face once this is on, okay?" You held his face as a brush covered in green rubbed along his skin. What has his life come to?

Here you were sitting on a countertop with your boyfriend between your legs. Both are sporting green face masks. You couldn't help but laugh at Damian's serious expression. He was counting down the seconds until he could take the concoction off his face.

"When do you plan on fulfilling your end of the deal?" He asked very seriously. Did I mention he's very serious about this?

"When we take these off."

He exhaled roughly through his nose, like a fire breathing dragon.

"You'll live until then!" Your arms were thrown over his shoulders and your fingers fidgeted with the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Maybe."

"You're lucky I didn't make you wear cucumbers on your eyes." Damian huffed from beside you. The two of you were snuggled under the covers of your bed and surrounded by snacks. It was basically heaven. An action movie Damian had heard Dick talk about with high praise played in the background. He turned to face you, you were rested on his right side, his good arm loosely around your waist.

"What?" You questioned as he stared at you.

"The deal." As interesting as the movie was he had some other priorities. He watched as a grin spread across your face.

"What deal?"

"Oh come on."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" You shrugged your shoulders theatrically.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue and brought you closer by the arm around your waist. You braced one hand on his chest and the other on the mattress. The bags beneath his eyes were so much more visible from this distance. They made you remember why Damian was here to begin with. So you leaned him and pressed your lips to his.

A/N: So happy I got back the motivation to feed the Girly!Reader fans. Idk what to do cause I've got so many other ideas and fuck all Girly!Reader ideas... I'm not stopping Girly!Reader series, but I don't think I'll be posting any Girly!Reader stuff for a while. Especially since I want to try to write for some non DC characters. (Tim Drake x Slasher!Reader is burning in the background.)

[ysrjune]

SCOTT BARRINGER X GIRLY!READER [ 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 @dollfilmz ]

#🌸🎀🩰

WARNING: SEXUAL THEMES @ THE END

#🩷 ENJOY ! ♡

💌 scott, like a lot of other boys at school, had a crush on you. maybe it was the way you never failed to pull off different hair styles every day, or maybe it was how nice you were to everyone. the blond only knew that he wanted to get his hands on you and make you his pretty little girlfriend. he wasn't bad with getting girls.. like at all. he's on the football team and! he's super cute!

FEBRUARY 5TH @ 8:49AM.

first period, journalism. this class was an easy A for scott. he was just a cameraman for reports on whatever the reporters wanted to talk about for their video of the week. it's not that he didn’t like to be on camera, it's more like he's just awkward and doesn't know how to act normal when he's being recorded for a report or an assignment where he needs to be on camera. luckily he didn’t have to do anything for the rest of the week since his partners Kenny and Laura decided to film their video on Monday.

"remember everybody," the teacher says, causing everyone to look back at her. "valentines day grams are on sale this week. get your partner one if you don’t know what else to buy." she smiles and walks over to her desk to take attendance. a few people around scott start talking about the $5 gift. "I heard that they're better than last year," "yeah, they are! im in ASB. it comes with a rose, love letter, chocolate and other candies." says a girl named Marilyn. scott turns back and taps the top of the computer in front of the other kids. "hey, I can buy one from you, right? since you're in ASB?" he asks.

thats where it all started between you and scott. instead of the $5 option, he chose the $15 dollar one. the only thing different from the first option was that it included a teddy bear and a gourmet cookie. when you had received your gram during 2nd period on February 14th, your friends teased you about who it was from.

“to my beautiful *name*,

everyday I see you and wish that you were in my arms. I wish that I could call you mine. I wish I could kiss your soft lips and shower you with all my affection. I'm a little shy to say this in person, so I sent you this gram. Happy Valentines day.

yours, Scott Barringer.”

that day during lunch, you went to the classroom that scott hung out in and started talking to him. It only took you a week to start going out on dates with him. he was a sweetheart and such a good guy to you. always paying for things you wanted, never not touching you (holding hands, arm around your waist) at school or wherever you went.

💌 scott LOVES watching you do your makeup. he doesn’t admit it though. on the weekends when you have something planned and you do your makeup, hes there. hes laying on his tummy on your bed, watching you apply blush and highlight to your cheeks. he watches close and carefully. and when you start doing your hair? he offers to help out. "need help with that?" he stands up from the bed and walks over to you, taking the curling iron from your hand. "I dont need the help, but you can go ahead and do it for me." you smile at him through the mirror. scott smiles back and starts curling the ends of your hair. hes done this a couple times already.. practice makes perfect.

💌 scott also loves how girly you are. skirts, tight blouses, nails and hair always done.. he would rather have a girl like that instead of one who goes out in hoodie and sweats all the time. he really likes your jewlery too. necklaces, rings, earrings.. he buys you matching diamond earrings since his ears are also pierced. they werent pierced for too long though. his dad kept bothering him about how they made him look gay, so he took them out. bit he still has his pair.

💌 (modern) scott posts you on his story a fair amount. dates, selfies you send him, videos he takes of you at school, gifts he buys.. everything like that. theres more on his close friends story since he knows there are girls out there who stalk his profile just to see who his girlfriend is. its not that he doesnt want to show you off and let everyone know who his girlfriend is, he just doesn't like when girls who like him try and stalk your profile.

💌 babe, baby, beautiful, cutie, all nicknames he calls you buy. he has you saved as 'angel face 🩷' in his phone.

💌 he likes when you put on lipstick. he loves when you kiss all over his neck and leave kiss marks. he especially likes it when you leave them places other than his neck. his chest, collarbones, arms, face, COUGH! near his 🤔.. 😊

💌 you're a little shorter than him and it makes him feel some sort of way. he doesnt really know why he likes the height difference, he just does, and so do you. everytime you walk past a mirror at a store or somewhere theres a mirror, you ask him to hug you from behind so you can snap a photo. you have one of those photos set as your profile photo on Instagram.

💌 just because you're his girlfriend doesn't mean hes not a little mean/teasing. "whats with you wearing pink all the time? too scared to try another color?" he'd say. you roll your eyes. "and whats it with you always wearing plad? you too lazy to go out and buy something different?" and just because you're his usually sweet girlfriend, doesn't mean you WONT be mean to him back.

💌 you're like his own personal cheerleader at his games. his friends always stare at you like you're doing too much, and maybe you are.. but thats your boyfriend out there winning every game for the school. how could you not smile and yell along with the other people when he caught the ball from so far away?

💌 he likes to lend you his jersey a lot. obviously only when its washed. but you bet that after he washes it, he spritz on his cologne so you smell like him. he doesn't only do that with just his jersey, he does it with his varsity jacket as well.

"you're lucky you're cute, princess." he kisses down your neck. "cause you've been pissing me off all damn day." being too teasing. whispering things to him in the middle of class where he cant do anything but hold your hand and pretend like you didnt just tell him that you wanted to go on your knees for him.

now, you were in his room on a Friday afternoon, home alone. scott lifts your skirt up and stares at your lacy white underwear. "guess you do wear something other than pink," he chuckles to himself. "God, im gonna ruin you." he whispers and kisses you through the fabric. "make you forget your own damn name."

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaas-xo @anakinca ⭐️

[juicykvnture]

MONEY HONEY (2)

Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

tags: AFAB reader, brief age gap mention (reader is early 20s), praise kink, mirrors, manhandling, light choking, semi-public

a/n: I heard the people were yearning for more DILF!Bruce..

wc: 2.7k | part 1 | masterlist

“I thought you said it would just be dinner,” you let out a huff as you awkwardly shift your heels, staring at the rows upon rows of stores before you.

“Dinner, a side of shopping - same thing.” Bruce shakes his head, glancing down at his watch and then at you.

You’re pretty, no you’re not pretty - fuck that.

Bruce really finds you to be nothing short of gorgeous.

Sure, he has a set of eyes and he could tell through the screen that you were a looker but nothing could’ve really prepared him for how you look in real life.

He just hopes for the sake of his own ego that you didn’t notice how much his palms were shaking when he met you outside the restaurant - or the fact that he was literally holding the bouquet of roses he got you so hard the poor stalks almost snapped.

You’re making that face again, that slightly stunned little smile.

It’s cute, more than cute - he’d tattoo it inside his skull if he could.

“The floor is yours,” he holds his hand out, leading you up to the escalator.

You don’t miss how his eyes trail down to your hand in his, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand.

His gaze lingers on your nails a little longer, admiring the pearlescent sparkle under the dim department store lighting.

To say you were nervous to meet Bruce for dinner would be the biggest understatement of the millennium.

To put it plainly, you were a total wreck.

You were running on leftover lash glue and a dream, actually.

You couldn’t remember the last time a man had you acting like this, it had your dearly concerned girlfriend on FaceTime with you playing out an episode of Say Yes to the Dress for hours before settling on the very first option.

Oh, and when a friend of yours enquired how old he was?

You just smiled and nodded.

“Where to first?” you break the silence, glancing down at your hands and then around the store as you step off the escalator.

“Wherever you want.” Bruce shrugs, his hand moving to rest at the small of your back, listening to the almost soothing click-clack of your heels until it comes to a stop, your eyes lingering on one of the makeup displays.

He soon finds himself sitting on a chair in the corner with makeup swatches all over his hand, watching in mild amusement as you run laps around the NARS display, dropping various lipsticks into his lap so he can help you pick a shade.

To him, they’re all pink, they’re all pretty.

He’s just more puzzled, trying to figure out why on God’s green earth a makeup brand would settle on “deep throat” and “orgasm” and deem those appropriate names for blush shades.

He’s almost rethinking his life decisions, is this what the youth is into nowadays?

But whatever makes you happy, right?

“Which ones better?” you snap him out of his momentary moment of contemplating the state of the world, making him crane his head up as you stand over him.

“Well, I’m partial to the deepthro-“

He sputters slightly, staring up at you,

“I’m sorry, you’re asking me about lipstick, aren’t you?”

When you nod he just stares up at you, smoothing out his tie when presented with both opinions.

“The pink one?” He clears his throat, hoping it’s the right answer.

“They’re both pink, Bruce.”

“Ah,” he offers a slow nod, still staring at you.

“Get them both.”

Your brows furrow a little and he just grins, he can tell you’re about to tell him not to bother, that it’s all too much - blah, blah, blah.

“Don’t even think about it.” he’s already rising to his feet, settling on which card he should use.

“I’m getting you both.”

“Bruce, don’t be silly. You can’t tell the difference between those two shades!”

He just shrugs, his hand sliding up to rest at the small of your back again, walking you over to the cashier.

“I’ll learn the difference.”

He’s serious, he’ll buy out every single one ever made if he has to. Maybe he’ll even dig his glasses out from whatever drawer they’ve been banished to.

“Are you alright in there?” Bruce calls out from outside the changing room, watching over all the shopping bags you’ve amassed in the last few hours like they could grow little legs and run away.

No, not on his watch. All your precious lipsticks and blushes and that new wallet are staying right here, neatly wrapped up.

“..yeah!” you call out, awkwardly drumming your fingers against your knee as you try to keep your voice steady, clutching the pink lace in your hands.

Okay, maybe you’re not okay.

There’s a slight chance that you may be having a nervous breakdown inside a changing room with Bruce right outside that sliding door.

Bruce always had a habit of sending you various gifts, including lingerie. Hence, it’s no surprise your impromptu shopping trip resulted in the two of you taking the escalator up to the next floor, landing in a Victoria's Secret.

It’s not that you’re scared he won’t find you pretty, he’s made it abundantly clear that you’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever met - he’s said that over text and to your face, repeatedly.

It’s just, this is real life.

You can’t angle your camera a little differently, you can’t change your lighting, you can’t pose a certain way like you normally would.

You don’t have the control like you usually would.

“You sure?” he calls out again, softer now - noticing how long you’re taking in there.

“I’m sure.” you insist, awkwardly fumbling with the lacy corset straps to try to tie them up, bending every which way like it’s the first time working your way around something like this.

It isn’t, you do it all the time.

Just with him outside that door and not behind a screen, it feels different.

The gentle knock on the door makes you panic, fumbling around to throw on a dressing gown and fix up your hair, offering Bruce a practised smile.

“You need help with that?” he offers, glancing down at the tangled ribbons in your hand, arching a brow.

With an awkward chuckle, you extend your hand, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he starts to untangle them.

“I’ve made a mess of them, I don’t know how you’ll untie that,” you huff under your breath, fidgeting with the sleeve of your dressing gown.

“Mhm,” Bruce mumbles, preoccupied with undoing the knots.

“I can do many things, I have many skills.” he shrugs, holding the now untangled ribbons in front of you, tilting his head to the side.

You glance down at the floor and then at Bruce, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

“..do your skills include lacing up bras?”

That has Bruce pausing for a moment, blinking slowly as he stares at the floor.

“Possibly.” he nods, adjusting his tie to have something to do with his hands, something to focus on, other than the woman standing in front of him - scantily clad to say the least.

You glance over at the mirror, fingers curling into the sleeves of the dressing gown before you pull it open, letting the silky fabric slide down your back, still holding it in place at your hips.

“So,” Bruce clears his throat as he takes a step forward, his eyes briefly meeting yours in the mirrors reflecting before he averts them, focusing his attention on pulling the ribbon through the top loops of the corset.

“Any other stores you want to stop by?”

You’ve been to almost all of them, but he just can’t deal with the silence.

When your only response is a shake of your head, he frowns slightly - eyes drifting to the mirror to get a look at your face.

“You’re tense,” he observes, holding the satin ribbon between his fingers.

“I’m tired,” you shrug, clutching the dressing gown a little tighter, trying to ignore the feeling of him breathing down the back of your neck.

Bruce offers a curt nod, but he can’t miss the way your shoulders tense up again when his fingers ghost along your spine, his expression softening for a moment.

“Similar colour to the one I sent you last time, no?” he murmurs under his breath, running his finger along the strap of the bra you’re wearing.

He’s got the image of you in that other pink set drilled into his head, so much so that the sight of something even remotely similar has his slacks feeling tighter.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, glancing towards the mirror “they’re both pink, I guess.”

Bruce just nods again, his hand mindlessly following the slope of your torso, fingers almost reaching the hem of your underwear at your hip - breath ghosting over the side of your neck.

“Sorry,” he catches himself after a moment, mentally berating himself - he’s probably making you uncomfortable.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Bruce clears his throat, pulling his hand away.

“I know,” you speak before you think, your hand moving to rest over his, the dressing gown pooling at your feet on the floor.

You swallow.

“I know I don’t - still.” you rest your hand over his, subtly pulling it to rest at the top of your underwear.

Bruce hesitates once more before his thumb runs over the soft lace, his chin moving to rest on your shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

He really, really hopes you are.

He lets out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding when you nod, letting his hand slowly slide down under the thin lace, the cold metal of his watch pressing against your lower belly.

“Is this you trying to be polite again?” you breathe out, breath hitching when you feel the tip of his finger circle your clit, his crotch pressed against your ass.

“Maybe.” Bruce murmurs, a muffled groan into your shoulder soon following when he feels you lean into his hand.

“Stop.”

He blinks, about to pull his hand away before he feels your fingers encircling his wrist.

“Stop trying to be polite, Bruce - or is that beyond your skill set?”

That’s all it takes before his other hand finds your neck, gripping it hard - forcing you to tilt your head up.

Not necessarily to choke you or anything, more to convey the fact that you’re not getting away from him any time soon.

“Are you doubting me?” his eyes remain locked on the way your body moves and the expression on your face when his grip on you tightens.

“No,” you swallow, his firm hand on your neck has you pushing your thighs together.

“Good.”

His knee slots between your legs, leaving you no choice to almost fall back against him before his arm locks around your waist, making you choke out a shaky “fuck”.

His eyes narrow, staring at you under his dark lashes.

He likes that sound, he wants to hear it again.

He will hear it again.

His hands grasp your hips so hard they could bruise if he isn’t careful, staring at the wet patch in those brand new panties with a small scoff.

He was planning on buying you those anyway, but now he has to - considering your pussy has managed to soak them through already.

“This impolite enough for you?” his breathing is ragged, his question rhetorical as his lips find yours, more spit and teeth than anything else.

You just offer a dumb nod, your hand reaching down to fumble with his belt, trying to pry the clasp open - he isn’t helping you.

“C’monn, you said you’d fuck me if you ever met me,” you sound more desperate than you’d like, your back pressed against the cold panels of the changing room wall.

“Did I?”

You swallow, offering another dazed nod.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Please,” you slur out, trying to grind yourself against his thigh to no avail.

“Nicely,” Bruce repeats, gripping his belt so hard his knuckles turn white.

“Please, fuck me like you said you would.”

That has to be the best sentence he’s ever heard in his whole life.

“Good girl, was it that hard?”

Maybe not, but know what’s hard?

His dick.

His tone may still be composed but his actions are far from it, it’s like he’s desperate under all that practiced suave as he pulls himself free from the confines of his slacks, giving his aching cock a slow stroke.

When he pulls your underwear to the side, his breath hitches for a moment, letting out a shaky groan under his breath as he lines himself up with your sopping pussy, your shaky hand gripping his tie hard.

“Fuck,” Bruce hisses under his breath, as he feels your body press against his, your cunt around his cock as he sinks into you.

Without wasting any more time, he pushes all the way into you in one swift motion, his hands firm on your hips as he keeps you pressed against the wall.

"Oh, sweetheart," you could feel every thick inch of his cock stretching you, his pace immediately hard and fast as he slams into you with barely hidden desperation.

He’s barely been inside you a second and your little sounds are already making him almost delirious, one hand finding your thighs to wrap your legs around his hips.

It’s embarrassing to admit but ever since that call, you’re all he could think about.

It got to the point he was up at night fucking his fist like an idiot cause you weren’t there with him, he couldn’t handle it.

And now that he’s inside you? Fuck.

You can barely think, clinging onto his tie like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality, trying to muffle your whines into his neck in that cramped changing room.

Bruce Wayne thought his billionaire playboy days were long behind him.

But right now?

Fuck, he might aswell be 25 again with how he’s pounding into your poor cunt, fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs to keep you braced against the cold wall.

He’s trying to keep his hands from shaking, cursing under his breath about how well you’re taking his cock - how pretty you are - how long he’s been thinking of this exact moment.

It’s actually kinda sweet how you think hiding in his neck will do you any good.

You’re in a changing room with a mirror that takes up half the wall space, why not put it to good use?

“Sweetheart,” he leans in closer, punctuating his words with a thrust of his hips just to watch you watch your back arch, his hand moving to give your hair a gentle tug.

“Watch the mirror,”

Bruce was a pretty rough guy; his voice was always gruff, he was always firm, but he knew when to soften the way he spoke. He didn't want to frighten you or push you away.

He just wants you to see how pretty you look when he fucks you, is that too much to ask?

It takes another little yank on your hair before you finally open your eyes, lips parted in a shaky whine as he holds your jaw steady, giving you no option but to watch how you arch into his touch.

You’re so much better in real life - so is your pussy.

“You look pretty, huh baby?...” he mumbles into your jaw, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip.

He can only smile when you manage a fucked out “yeah” - each thrust of his hips coming with another mumbled praise.

His thumb pushes into your mouth now, his hand on your thigh starting to squeeze even harder.

“Uh-uh, you’re not gettin’ away from me that easily, sweetheart…” he mutters.

“You’re gonna keep those eyes on that mirror, and you’re gonna watch yourself while I fuck you again, and again, and again.”

It only occurs to you after he’s fucked you any way possible and your head is spinning - despite being in a literal store, you haven’t been interrupted once.

Perhaps when he said the floor was yours, he meant it.

The bastard probably rented the whole mall out for you.

a/n: over 700 notes on the last one I love u wtf??? Thank you for reading!!

another day of work at the DILF factory and this era is going strong and my suggestions are open..

Bruce Wayne m.list

[cranberrv]

sweet

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston sneaks into your bedroom

( a/n : this request was so cute! i want dal so badly HOLYY but anyway i hope u cuties enjoy )

the smoke of a candle danced through your room, coating it in a subtle smell of vanilla. the beatles was playing on vinyl, the record spinning endlessly. your vanity was covered in expensive makeup and one of the lightbulbs on the fairylights strung to your wall was flickering, slowly burning out. the new pink pyjamas that your mother bought you sat comfortably on your skin, and the pages of a book were flipping every few minutes.

you feel a sense of calm as you relax. it’s storming heavily out but you’re safe inside, your parents are asleep, and it’s just you and your little dog hanging out on your bed. you’re almost ready to blow out your candle and head to bed.

until you hear a knock on the window. you jump at the sudden sound disrupting your quiet time, but ignore it, thinking it’s just the wind. but then it happens again multiple times. your head is going to worst-case scenario. serial killer? kidnapper? you don’t know, but they’re impatient. so you hesitate, but peak through your lacy curtains. your lover, dallas winston, is staring at you.

you relax your shoulders and sigh, opening your window. “you scared me,” you whisper-yell so you don’t wake your parents. “how do you know where i live?”

“two-bit told me,” he tells you, talking in a normal voice. you elbow him, and he whispers as he continues. “i should be asking you why another man knows your address.”

“i babysit his sister, he drops her off all the time,” you whisper. you’re annoyed at him for showing up at midnight, and you’re about to force him out, until you notice how drenched with rain he is. “you’re all wet, dal,” you sigh. “are you cold?”

he shakes his head and shrugs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “nah, i’m alright, sugar,”

you sit beside him and gently rest your hand on his cheek for a second, checking his temperature to see if he’s lying. “you’re freezing,” you have a worried look in your eye. he knows it all too well, you get nervous for him easily. “i’ll go get you a towel. do you want hot chocolate?”

“baby, i ain’t gonna die of hypothermia,” he assures. “i don’t need hot chocolate.”

“okay,” you give him a kiss on the cheek, then stand up and walk out of the room to grab a towel.

as you walk out of the room and into the hallway, careful not to step on creaky floorboards and wake your loved ones up, dallas sits up from the bed, and starts looking around your room. he’s never been in a rich kids house before. he picks up your expensive lipstick from your vanity, the one you wear everyday, the one that stains his face when you kiss him. he picks up your perfume — he loves your perfume. he loves how you smell, rosey and feminine. the smell of you makes him feel serene, relaxation washing over him. you have this way about you that makes him feel so safe.

after he’s done looking at your vanity and your shelves of books and crystals, he catches a glimpse of himself in the vanity. he doesn’t fit in with you or your room. his hair is wet, his jacket is dirty, his shoes aren’t shiny and he looks roughed up. but what’s funny is that you don’t even care. most socs care about their reputation, they would never want to be seen around a greaser, but you don’t care. he’s never experienced unconditonal love like yours before.

you walk back in with a pink towel and see him looking at himself. “doing your makeup, dal?” you tease, and he playfully rolls his eyes in response.

“very funny, sweetie,” he sits back down on your bed and takes off his jacket.

you sit down beside him and start drying him off, because frankly, you don’t trust him to do it himself. you brush his bare shoulders and you pat his hair with the towel. he’s watching you do it all, admiring your focus and your need to take care of him. he takes your free hand in his own calloused hand, gently rubbing it with his thumb. he has so much love and thankfulness towards you, he just doesn’t know how to express it. him taking your hand causes you to lose your focus and look up at him. his gaze doesn’t drift, a soft smile on his face as your cheeks blush.

“i think i’m dry enough,” he whispers.

you nod, and set the towel down. “okay,”

he takes a breath before speaking again. “can i stay over here tonight?”

you hesitate. you would love for him to stay over, you would love to talk to him all night and spend time with him, but it’s a school night. “my dad wakes me up during school days, dallas, he’ll see you,” you whisper. “and i don’t really want him to know that a boy snuck in my room.”

“what? why? you’ll get grounded or somethin’? c’mon, doll, nothing is gonna happen,” you shrug, and he continues. “i just want to spend some time with my girl, is that a crime?”

“he’ll be mad—“ you start, but he interrupts you with a compromise.

“i’ll be out at 6:00, your old man won’t see me. i gotta help buck clean up the bar, anyway,” he insists.

“..fine.” you agree, a little smile growing on your face at the excitement of dallas sleeping over.

he gives you a peck on the lips. you guys continue talking for a little bit longer, about how he didn’t know you babysat two-bit’s sister, and about how your teacher got you in trouble for chewing gum. and when your beatles record stops and you change it, he tells you he’s never listened to them before because they’re a “soc band.”

after a while, you two are lying down, still talking in hushed whispers. it’s mostly you talking, but he loves your voice, so he doesn’t mind. his arm is around you, pulling you into his side. you let out a small yawn as you start to get tired, and he gives you a gentle pat on your back.

“go to sleep, sugar,” he tells you.

you disagree with him. “i like talking to you,”

“yeah, well, you can do that all you want tomorrow, doll,” he takes a breath. “you wanna swing by buck’s tomorrow?”

“yeah,” you nod. “i’ll come after school.”

he rubs your back gently, and adjusts himself to get more comfortable.

“can you blow out the candle?” you ask him before he gets too tired.

he nods, and leans over to your bedside table to blow it out, then he turns off the lamp. his st. christopher necklace and the smoke are the only things you can see in the darkness hugging you two. the beatles continues to play in the background, and you two stay close together, a feeling of serenity in the air. dallas chooses to stay awake for a bit longer, watching you fall into a peaceful state as you sleep.

dallas isn’t the same person with you as he is when he’s in public. when he’s with his friends, or even walking around town, he has this intimidating aura that can scare anyone who has the mispleasure of walking past him. he has a dangerous reputation around tulsa, and he’s seen as a teenage dirtbag who’s been to jail more times than you can count.

but when he’s around you, he’s completely different. his walls are torn down the minute he smells your perfume. he lets you take care of him, he doesn’t wipe off the lipstick stains on your face, and he’s oh so sweet.

so as he watches the candle smoke dance through the room, he can come to one conclusion. he will never leave the safe place that he calls you.