Brain On Ten Right Now. Slumber Party Podcast Is Getting Finished Today Bc The Dialogue Hit Me In The

brain on ten right now. slumber party podcast is getting finished today bc the dialogue hit me in the shower

"That it, Bossman?"

Chile, I been gone so long, I'm just gonna post and go.

Series Masterlist

Taglist [OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole121919

Rating: Pg-13

Warning: naughty dreams, cursing, obsessive Bruce Wayne

She’s been haunting his mind ever since that meeting. This was an outcome even the greatest detective could have predicted. Morning, noon, and night, her visage ghosted around the empty halls and intersections of his mind, interrupting his day to day thoughts with a coy smile and trail of department store perfume.

The growing desire to jolt his head up and scour his surroundings every time he heard her laugh was getting hard to control. His heart couldn’t cope with the delusions of his mind. Everything reminded Bruce of her. 

Torture sessions replaced his sleep schedule. After his patrol in the dank underworld of his city, Bruce would return home to his estate, shower, then sleep. That’s how it’s always been since he became Batman. Injuries and catastrophic events would interrupt this routine, of course, but Dove ripped it to shreds. His silk sheets buried him like waves, drowning him until the oxygen in his lungs were depleted and the hallucinations started.

“Bruce…Bruce...please Bruce,” It always started with pleading. The begging in her raspy tone would be the initial strike, the first nail in the coffin. 

Brown skin, gleaming with sweat, shining under the spotlight. Her marks and moles painted illustrations on her skin, something that his mouth wanted to trace to perfection. Her body twitching, bared and naked for his eyes only. The images were overwhelming. 

“Touch me, Bruce. Please.” The fingers, smaller and more delicate than his, cleaner than his could ever be, blessed his rosy skin with featherlight touches. Moans flooding his ears, taking over his senses. 

“Touch me here, Bruce.” After the second request to feel her form under his fingertips, he would always wake up tangled in his bedsheets. Even in his dreams he couldn’t take the plunge. It felt wrong somehow, his morality had drawn the line in the sand. Searching up personal information on the batcave’s computer system was one thing, touching dream Dove was another. 

Breaking into the security feed of a small ethnic grocery shop that sold a specific brand of popsicles he found in Spinelli’s shop one night after an uneventful patrol? 

That toes the line.

But ultimately, could be overlooked. If anyone asked, and no one could or ever thought to question the respectable Bruce Wayne, a casual remark about the growing diversity in Gotham City would explain his sudden detours to that side of town. No one could fault him for being curious.

Especially when the curiosity paid off in the board meetings. Everyone fawned over his dedication to creating strong cell towers throughout the city. No one needed to know that Bruce only discovered the discontinuity in connection strength by dealing with the five second lag he experienced watching closed footage from his batcave. 

Today was like any other day. Waking up from a dream that left him unbearably hard in his silk pajamas- an issue he would have to address in his morning shower-, completing his tasks at his company, shaking hands and making deals with Gotham's elite. A simple routine he’s followed for years. But now comes with a twist. 

“I think I’ll go visit that deli again for lunch. Want something, Fox?” The older man shifted his focus from the prototype blueprints on his desktop to gauge his boss’s movements. Swift, everything Bruce Wayne could be studied and classified as efficient. He never moved excessively or put in more work than required. A trait few picked up, fortunate for him or else everyone would see him for what he really was.

A walking contradiction.

“That little shop off Westward? Isn’t that a bit out of your way, Mr. Wayne? We need to finish these plans as soon as possible.” Lucious reasoned. The small food court within Wayne Towers had more than enough options to satisfy the evolving palate of its well traveled owner. 

“I won’t be long. I’ll bring you back those snack cakes you like so much.”

Bruce smoothed his overcoat topping his suit, slyly wiping the sweat that had beaded up on his palms away. There was nothing to be nervous about. Bruce just wanted to get a sandwich and return to his office. 

This had nothing to do with it being late lunch hour, which just so happened to be what Dove favored to avoid heavy mid-day traffic. 

The world class chef’s at Wayne Towers couldn’t replicate the sauce only available at the small hole in wall deli. Or offer the variety of international snacks found in its compact aisles and fridges. Like the popsicles he tried the other day. The same ones he found in Spinelli’s trash. 

The bell dinged and the men grunted a hello from behind the counter. Their idea of good service and Bruce’s idea were on two different planets, but the billionaire knew a thing or two about being cocky. The type of cockiness he wielded at socials and galas, where all his peers and onlookers whimpered at his feet and laughed at his pisspoor jokes. The type of cockiness being the best breeds in a person. Knowing no matter what you do, you’ll still be untouchable.

It was a heady feeling, akin to consuming the finest absinthe. 

“Yo! What can I do for you bossman?” Cold steel eyes scanned the walkways and mirrors in the corners of the store, searching for that familiar head full of tamed hair. Did he come too late? Too early? Is she not on her lunch right now? Maybe, Bruce reasoned as the man fixed up his order while talking loudly to his coworker, maybe she went to another shop for lunch. 

Still, this would be his third time coming to the store without laying eyes on his current object of intrigue. At this point, going back to the footage and coming up with a new plan seemed like the best next step-

The bell dinged.

“Oi, there’s our little princess! Where you been at?” Following the cashier’s gaze, Bruce’s heartbeat picked up with a shy bit of hope racing through his system.

Pretty brown eyes. Hair covered by a neon yellow beanie. Black stockings with the smallest rips along her outer knee and a pretty red scarf that had seen better days. 

“Po, you know I have to wait until the fifteenth to afford one of your sandwiches. Don’t play dumb.” Bruce’s ears perked. There was a sharpness in her voice he had only heard from tapping into audio tapes from around the city. How familiar was she with these two?

“You talking to me, the man that makes your food, like that?” 

“I never said a word to Sammy.” A raspy chuckle trailed her response. “Sammy, how are you darlin? Po not working you too hard, right?”

“He not, but you could.” Dove snorted, tapping along the laminate wood counter, bringing the line count from one to two. In front of her, A sharp dressed man dug in his pocket for his wallet and collected his sandwich. 

“Boy, stop playing with my emotions like you don’t got a husband at home and make my food.” 

“That it bossman?” Brown eyes finally took notice of the figure at the register and the woman felt her body temperature drop. Of all people to catch her outside of her work persona, it had to be the most important man in the city, the possible key to her upward mobility if she impressed him enough. 

Should she speak up? Call his attention and butter him up with her hopefully endearing personality? Would it be best to act like she didn’t recognize him? But, Dove scrunched her nose in agitation as her eyes tracked Sammy slapping her sandwich together behind the glass barrier, who in Gotham wouldn’t recognize Bruce Wayne? The real dilemma was would he remember her? 

Sure they shared a meal one time, but a man like him must be drowning with dozens of shared dinners with women. Nothing made her special-

“No caviar this time?” As if sensing her internal dialogue, Bruce’s smooth voice startled her and solved her issue at the same time. Their eyes met, and everything outside of the woman next to him faded away from his vision. It was alarming how she could fog his brain with a simple look, which only made Bruce want to be around her more, orbit around like the moon does the earth, tethered to her gravity with no desire to break free.

“Not this time, Mr. Wayne-”

“Princess, want it toasted?” Sammy asked, breaking up the beginning of what Bruce thought to be a beautiful moment. His trained ears could hear the swallow of saliva being forced down her esophagus.

“Yes, add it to my total.” Too distracted by the thought of a warm lunch for the first time in ages, Dove is blind to the intense look her sponsor gives Sammy. 

“Mr. Wayne, you keep paying for my food and Gotham will start talking. I’ll end at the top of the gotham gazette web page.” Dove protested lighty, enough to say she tried but not enough for him to change his mind about buying her lunch. 

Bruce fought the goofy smile looking for a place on his face, sliding his card over for payment. Buying things for pretty girls was familiar territory for the billionaire. He could consider it foreplay at this point. In his experience, nothing made a woman want him more than getting a feel for how big his pocket bulge was. 

A decorated palm rose to wave at the gentlemen behind the counter. Wordlessly, the pair exited the shop with Bruce holding the door for her, the door chime signaling their return to society, one where a man like him didn't pay much mind to women like her. But Bruce had so much more he wanted to say.

Every parting with her tugged at his heart, demanding he take drastic action to keep her in his sights.  A more impulsive man would clasp her hand and smooze her number out. 

“If anyone ever gives you trouble, kindly send them to my office. I’ll take care of it, Dove.” What a man, she thinks. There must be something wrong with him. She found it hard to resist his charm, or believe that the persona he donned for the general public and the man on a midday lunch break were the same person. 

“In that case, maybe you should give me your number.” Bold. He liked it.

Thank goodness.

🌎 Close to Orbit:

Make This Count | Ukai Keishin x Star(OC)

We Flock Together Pt. 6 | Bruce Wayne x Dove(OC) ARRIVED

Boss: Prelude | Levi x Tiny(OC) ARRIVED

The Race: Lap Two | Sukuna x Bunny(OC)

Mrs. Big Shot | Nanami x Bambi (OC)

wips to be completed in no particular order at no particular time frame.

eren fucking his dairy cow hybrid bc her milk production getting low and he not losing his prized milk source and yeah thats what my dream was about before i woke up,,, good morning😊

Well, you see dear Cassie. After some villains attacks, you get use to it and staying in Gotham kind of becames a funny game of who can survive longer.

need kenma breathing in my face telling me to relax bc we’ve been cockwarming for ten minutes and im bout to lose it.