One Shots (Damian Wayne x reader)

Painted Heart (Painted skin pt2)

 A cup of tea was fuming on the table. The light coming from the window gilded the white walls and the wooden furniture. I was trying to capture, with my camera, the curling steam coming from the hot beverage as well as its almost invisible shadow on the wall. I was quite fascinated by the movements of the steam, raising, splitting in stripes, curling, rolling in the air before disappearing forever.

A knock at the door. Too immerse in the ephemeral steam, I almost dropped my camera. I looked at the clock on the wall; quarter past two of the afternoon. I opened the door, revealing Damian Wayne in a black suit.

"Hi Y/N, how are you?" he asked as he entered the room.

I closed the door behind him and turned toward him a frown on my face.

"You're fifteen minutes late." I stated. "I told you I need you to be punctual."

"Sorry" he said with a playful smile.

"Don't be if you're going to be late again. Time is precious and even more when I need natural lighting." I tried to explain.

"Dully noted."

I sighed, offering him the cup of tea.

"Today we're going to try different paints and colours. And if we have time, we'll try some settings."

He nodded, while sipping his drink.

I went to the table, taking a big piece of grey fabric and put it on the floor. Then I put on hair clamp to get rid of eventual annoying lock of hair. I was turning my back to him, but I could fell his gaze on my shoulders. I took a few clean brushed and set them on the table.

"So, take off your shirt now and step on the fabric. I don't want to ruin the floor with paint." I said without looking at him, too focused on trying to find the paints I wanted to try.

I heard the rustling of clothes being take off.

"Usually, I'm the one who ask girls to take their clothes off."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I could hear his smirk as he said these words.

Turning around with a brush and a palette, I saw him standing half naked on the grey cloth. I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Well, you might want to take off your pants too, if you don't want me to accidentality stain them with paint." I answered. He chuckled but took them off, not breaking our eye contact.

At first I just looked at his body. I asked him to move his arms, then his legs to see the shapes of his body, to see his lines and his shapes. Then I tried different colours on his skin. He was quite pale and some colours contrasted more than others on his skin. I could feel him shiver a few time when the brush was in contact with him. The paint must be cold.

Hours passed. We were both silent, but it wasn't awkward. I was taking notes from time to time on my notebook. My fingers quickly get covered by paint.

With a small brush, I was tracing the traits of his jawline with a cherry red paint when I met his deep green gaze. I stopped my movement, holding my breath. I hadn't realize that I went so close to him. My own chest was almost pressed against his. I hadn't realize how intimate our position looked like. He hadn't say a word since I started working, not even when I pressed my own fingers on his lower back to see the way the yellow paint was holding on his skin.

I blinked, my eyes glancing at a black lock curling on his forehead. I took a step back to put some space between us.

He had a shadow of a smile on his face, not a smirk nor a playful smile. I couldn't really define it not knowing all his facial expressions. I licked my lower lip.