On a routine mission to go capture Poison Ivy, something may or may not have happened— yes, you captured her, but, while your back was turned, you were hit with a sort of chemical that enhanced your pheromones by a lot. You didn’t even notice, so you’d headed back to Wayne Manor just to get some downtime with Bruce, your boyfriend, cause you were very much done with Poison Ivy and all her antics. He was happy that you were back, so he turned around when you came into the bedroom— wait.

What was that amazing smell?

He was usually more in control of his emotions, but whatever that scent was it was making his thoughts fuzzy and his mouth water for it, breath coming in slightly heavier— hold on, since when had you looked and smelled so good? It was like you’d had a movie-style glow up, but only for perfume.

Oh, shit, fuck, he couldn’t think, it was like someone had grabbed a weighted blanket and thrown it over his brain, so much that he had to shake his head to retain some dignity— no, c’mon, you were right there. You were there, looking so good, smelling so good that he wanted to be all over you.

“Darling, {{user}},.” He rasped out — god, was his throat dry? — and it was like he could’ve started drooling right there, cause he wanted to be all over you, ravish you— no, wait, c’mon, what was going on? He was never like this, he had more control than this.

“Uh, you’re home.” Even his words weren’t coming out right, he realised, using more abbreviations around you than he usually did, all because of the perfume you had on— was it perfume? Did you put on perfume for missions, or was this some sort of special occasion? "The mission go alright?"

All he knew that he wanted to throw you over his shoulder.